Dear Lizzie... (16)

Dear Lizzie,
Well, we are here. We live within your walls now. It's been a bit over three weeks. I've been meaning to write you, but we have just been so crazy busy and disjointed. The projects haven't stopped since we moved in, and I started school back up with the kids. I know you sent your little ones off to the country school. I actually keep mine home with me and teach them myself. Most days I am pretty happy about this, some days I wonder what I was ever thinking.
The best thing that has happened since we moved in? Having a birthday party here. My youngest two both have August birthdays. Just having a gathering here again, with kids and games and sugar - it was so much fun. The house hasn't had a fun gathering in a really long time.
I keep thinking of all this noise here now. These wild kids within these walls. I wonder what sounds your children made when they played, got a little too wild, or ran in to tell you some news at full volume. My father was the last kid that lived here.
I look out the north window that is in the living room. I hardly ever look out that window that I don't think of you gazing there too, and the door that is now gone slamming shut beside it. Were there grazing bison, billowing thunder heads, men on horseback, curious Indians?
There is a bustle here again. The curve of the circle that the events of life trace, it keeps flowing on. I know you are gone, but you live on here, with us. Though I visited your resting place just a few days ago, I picture you as my age, managing your offspring, working hard just to survive.
I hold this Baptist hymnal of Frank's in my hands. I picture his work-worn fingers clasping it, singing the words in a clear deep voice. Your faith, his faith, they were strong and sure.
So, I am glad to be here. There is a lot of work to be done. A lot of projects to finish, and so many more that still need to be started.
I think, hope, that you would be pleased with what we've done, and happy that this place didn't rot and fade, but gained a new lease.
Rest well, Lizzie. Maybe you sing these words in this well worn book on the table beside me.

Yours truly,
Charity

I haven't dipped my toes in the water here for over a month. It was the first of July when I last hit "publish." July was hot, dry, busy, exhausting, and left me frazzled. We did a month long push to get the house to a move in state. My dad's mother moved in, so we needed to get out. Nine people in a three bedroom, one bathroom house just doesn't work for too long. The temps were in the triple digits. The days were long and the nights were short. I felt like I was in a desert - literally and spiritually. It was just as hard, if not harder, for me spiritually and emotionally as it was to do all the physical labor. I just wanted rain and relief - but it just wouldn't come. There seems to be a lack of direction and answers in this household. It is wearing on us, and I feel thin. Nothing over the last year has gone the way I viewed it, though not all surprises were negative. We now have a very comfortable house to set up camp. All six of us are together. We have privacy, the ability to be a family unit, a place to call our own. I get to unpack boxes and rediscover my stuff. Though there is a lot of work yet to get accomplished, we have hit a place where the pace can settle a bit. 

It has rained a bit since we started sleeping here. Real rain from the sky, and unexpected gifts too. The direction I (we) lack - it still nags met. Chris and I both need jobs, and neither of us really know where to look. God in heaven, He knows, He sees. I am not worried that He might be confused about what we need. And this lack of resources we have, see, it hasn't left us homeless, hungry, or unclothed. Many can't say that.

So, we are starting over again. It's the next chapter in Fontaine family life. We are walking into it, like most of our chapters, without really knowing where we are going. But, the music has stopped for a bit, and I have a chair to sit it. I have a place to stack my rocks, and God is still good.

It has been another transition. Wouldnt' we all expect it? That we are tackling it together, as a family, I am very thankful. As always, I appreciate all of you that find this, and travel a bit of the road with me.