June

June is a time for dreaming, setting out, and rest. So many things are happening and have happened and will be happening, and these activities repeat themselves every year like a poem. June is hope-filled.

. . . . .

We have two birthdays at the beginning of June, Sophie and Will. We will be having a third this year and forever after with the birth of our new son, Asa. When will that be? Only God knows. Asa's due date is June 19, but the baby don't have no calendar in utero. This child will be our eighth (still with us), and our fourth boy. We are excited. Laura is physically ready, or has every appearance of being so. So ready and yet, as always, so un-ready. A baby jars the teacup. We have so much planned for this summer and hope that it will all play out at least somewhat as we suppose. The best thing happening is this baby boy, of course. And part of me wishes we could just rest with him as we are, where we are. We have other responsibilities, however, and they will be nearly as demanding as a hungry baby.

. . . . .

We are finishing up the school year - a year at home this year. Sophie started the year in public middle school, but we decided together that it would be best to pull her out mid-year and let her finish at home with her sisters and brother. We're happy we did. It has been a good year. We have all learned how important learning is and how difficult it is at times with the interruptions of family. But it has been a good start. I can't imagine sending them back to school at this point, which is saying quite a bit given the time of year it is. Teaching them at home is difficult. It is not perfect. It is far from perfect. But it is certainly good. I have learned quite a bit. They have learned as well. Not all of that learning has been academic, but all of it has been necessary. And we have a long way to go. I have told the kids that we would be finishing up this week, which we will, but that we will also be working throughout the summer - reading, readings, prayers, some math, and the learning that comes through life's tectonics.

This summer is set to be a particularly disruptive one, though that is not to say that it will be bad. The disruption here will be good, as far as I know. The baby, primarily. And then Laura and I will be celebrating our 20th anniversary with a quick jaunt to Italy (we wish) and then we will be heading up to Michigan for a couple of months (!) to help my parents with their ice cream/pizza shop that they recently acquired. I am looking for work in Michigan as well. If that work doesn't pan out, at the end of the summer we will be back here for another year in North Carolina. If it does, we will be back and forth some to ready the house for sale and say our goodbyes. I am not sure how much free time there will be this summer as I will be working a lot, but it will be a nice change of scenery if nothing else. We are hoping and praying that Laura does not have to go back to teaching and can stay home with the baby. She's ready for that change, though her being ready for eight children 24/7, I'm not so sure. But who is ever ready for that? Child rearing is part of our theosis and, therefore - though, definitionally a struggle - a beautiful journey.

. . . . .

I need to write more. I feel less without it consistently, in some way, as part of my life. A friend sent a link via Facebook of Neil Gaiman's recent commencement address and it was refreshing and insightful. I am a writer. Writing is what I do. And while I do not always do it well, there is something in me that demands I do it. Now there are more important callings in my life, certainly. But these callings are not mutually exclusive. In fact, they lean upon one another. Writing is a strange profession in that I am not sure it will ever provide for our family. I am not sure it needs to. I am quite certain, however, that money is not the point of it. And I am certain I need to write. I know it.

. . . . .

This past weekend William received Holy Communion for the first time. How beautiful! I always get wet-eyed during one of my children's first participation in a sacrament. It is a wonderful thing to see them entering more fully into the life of the Church, into Christ's very life. It doesn't get any better than that. It was a good weekend.

. . . . .

Thanks be to God.