I read last summer that time spent beside large bodies of water is good for your mental health. Perhaps this is why I've found myself waterside several times this week. Not only are we in the in-between of this move -- waiting to move into our own place and for Adam to get put on his new schedule of four nights on, four nights off -- but this week my grandmother died. I'm not really sure how to process it all. I am aching for relief from this limbo, this in-between-ness, but I don't think I'll find it for awhile. None of this is what I expected.
I've spent a lot of time in prayer and staring off into space. That's where the water comes in handy, though of course Lily doesn't let me drift off for long. I want a routine, something we can rely on, but more changes are coming and all I can do is wait as patiently as I can.
So we head out the door to explore our (new) hometown. We walk along the lake, the river, the canal. We feed the ducks and play on playgrounds and make the best of it. Because, really, it's not that bad. This is the life we wanted.