pleased as punch

today was rosie's first day of "school" and let's just say she was pleased as punch.  last week when ambrosoli started and the other three were settling in- she was jealous- she so badly wanted to be in the pack- it hurt my heart a little.  but our funds were too short for her to go to international school this semester, so she is going to "school" at the campus daycare.  i think as long as she is getting out of the house to be with a group of other kids, she is happy. 

today she was up with everyone, waiting by the door. she looked so big and happy and ready. it was adorable.  and that little pink thing in her hair? that is the tiniest pigtail i've ever made. but again, pleased as punch.

with the big kids off and my littlest one now at school too, i felt newness breathe into me, and it was delicious.  it's a newness that i'm beginning to embrace but it requires courage. 

"courage to change the things i can...."

it's easy to bury that mustard seed of faith in the palm of my hand and grip it with all my might as i anxiously await things to fall apart.  as i sit, tightly wound, and prepare for the worst.  as i allow my greatest fears of what could happen keep me immobilized.  "what if i start something, and then zoe can't handle school?"  "what if i commit, and then have to back down?"  it's scarey.  it's risky. it could go terribly wrong.  yes.  all true.  but.

in life, we are invited to step out in faith, not to hide in fear.  we are asked to be bold, to trust, to take a chance.  i was walking down from monkey hill the other day, thinking about what to do next with my days with all kids going to school, and there is such great need medically in uganda.  i was trying to be reasonable, to be thoughtful, to consider the possibilities.  then i heard it: plant the seed. make your move.  put your time where your words are.  step out in faith.

when the Israelites stood before the open red sea, parted for them to cross, they had to step out into the  mire. God moved the water, but couldn't cross it for them.  they needed to walk on their trembling legs across that sandy path.  imagine it. water piled up on each side, something they never expected, something very scarey and new, a situation rampant with the potential for disaster. they walked and they kept on walking.  if it were me, i'd have been running. fast.

i don't think God cares if we are running through the bottom of the red seas's of our life, or stopping to meditate in the middle- as long as we enter in- as long as we trust- and get muddy.  goodness comes with the combination of the open sea and the walking.  it comes with an invitation for zoe to attend school, and my ability to let my girl go, and to let myself go.  it comes with a willingness to open my hands and to plant my little mustard seed of faith.

so i'm breathing into this- i'm holding my arms open in a yoga pose - reaching out for stillness and embracing a new season.  maybe i'll be pleased as punch.