almost

it's 'almost' lots of things.

almost the one year anniversary of our move here.
almost the 19th anniversary of our wedding day.
almost time for school to start (okay already time, but it will come soon).
almost have rose's birth certificate.

and these things, these almost's, bring reflection.  what have we done with this year?  what have we done with these 19 years? when will these children go back to school? will we ever get roses paperwork together and be able to get home for christmas?

reflection is good and sometimes bad and always different for different people. mike and i are reflectively different.  i have high frequency and amplitude and he has low.  i have quicker peaks and valleys and steeper and deeper ones- he is steadier- more gradual - basically less manic. 

we've come to realize that both ways have their strengths and weaknesses and thank God we balance each other out- we compliment each other. 

my reflections are quick and change quickly- his are thought out, held on to and reprocesses- i'm like ping pong, he's more like cricket.  so in the season of almosts- he's reflecting in his way- and the stretched-out-ness of it, makes it seem big and encompassing. 

today i went into kampala with the 4 kids to meet a friend and do the grocery shopping.  i had spent the first few hours of the day hearing about mikes reflections and then walking with a friend and hearing her reflections and when i got in the car for the hour long drive, i just wanted to think and process all of it- while listening to music of my choice- but with no kid talk.

"mommy?"
"yes bryn."
"why can't you tickle yourself?"

"mommy?"
"yes jude."
"do you think a car could run over a giant turtle?"
"i don't know maybe."
"what about 17 giant turtles?"

oh. dear. Lord.

"mom!"
"yes zoe."
"how exactly do our noses smell things?"
"ummm..."
"mom, you're a doctor! you should know that!"

do i really have to go there? can't we just listen to the soothing voice of adele?

so i called upon divine intervention.
and this time i didn't say 'help'.  this time i was specific.

"God? if you can shut the mouths of hungry lions and protect daniel- surely you can shut the mouths of my children for the next hour, and protect me, or them from me. please??"

and if you ever thought God doesn't care about the small stuff? you are wrong.  because for the next hour, nobody said a word, and they weren't sleeping. nobody spoke. at. all. and i hadn't even told them to be quiet.  they just were.  not even to request for a different song- or to repeat a song, or to complaint, or to ask if i had any food.  they were silent. 

it was unheard of.  it was delicious.
it was surely a miracle- an early august almost anniversary miracle.

amen.