On early mornings

A newly mobile Asher wakes me up early most days. He no longer wishes to cuddle in bed indefinitely. He's gotta get out, get going, eat some paper and chew on some power cords.

The coffee maker greets me in these early hours, a somewhat significant purchase that signals I am not going anywhere anytime soon. The taste and the buzz are slightly familiar, reminding me of home. We are where we are for the next six weeks or so. Suitcases are mostly unpacked, clothes in drawers, clean laundry waiting to be put away. Signs that point to normalcy for a family of five. The temptation to get comfortable, settle in, and stay awhile floats overhead, slightly out of reach. It's nice to be here, to be near family, to see our children get so much love and attention from the grandparents they've been deprived of for so long. But we know the plans are different for us. Not exactly typical, not exactly home. Not exactly meant for this.

So today, we go back to work. Doing what we do, working towards the future and relying more on faith than on the works of our hands. In these early mornings, it feels both daunting and exciting. The day is open before us, waiting to see what God will do and where we'll go and how we'll get there. In this place, again, with Ireland waiting on the other side. There's something strangely odd and comforting, seeing day to day that our journey - literally - is not done, yet. God is not done with us, yet.

I go for that second cup of coffee. I'm gonna need it.