It's official - I am nesting. I'm a nester. I nest.
It started a few weekends ago when my mother and I went shopping for Hannah's* bedroom furniture.
Until now, Hannah's room has housed some spare bookshelves, a few well-loved, hand-me-down Barbies, and not much else. It's been a sad, barren space dutifully vacuumed and dusted, prayed over and hoped for.
But now it's barrenness is filled up with daybed and dresser and all the girly wonder I could find during my multiple nesting trips to Target. (I've been to Target at least six times in the past week and already have a plan to go back as soon as I can find a few spare moments.)
From the minute the new bedroom suite arrived, it instantly transformed the barrenness into the room of a spunky, little diva. Every angle, every curve, every surface perfectly framed for childhood imagination - castles, fairylands, ships and thinks yet to be thunk. A once empty room is becoming hers. It will be her sanctuary, her playground, and will tell the stories of her youth.
I'm amazed by the intensity of the nesting - this all without pregnancy hormones. It's like my mama's heart has taken over the logical, patient, think-it-through part of my brain, and all I can do is submit to the need to prepare, purchase, clean, and, yes, even craft side of me. (Seriously, I bought pretty pink ribbon to make ties for the drapes and pretty pink paint to repaint a few old items of mine. I said pink! I don't do pink!)
I'm so deep into nesting, I am afraid a few weeks from now, when the last twig is perfectly entwined in the nest, I will plop down on a basket of Easter eggs and wait to see what happens.
Preparing is all I can think about. It's all I can concentrate on - thinking and rethinking, How can I make the barrenness better? How can I take the once empty space and fill it, beautify it, make it seem full?
This nesting place is a place of melancholy mixed with hope. A place of trepidation mixed with longing. A place of little knowing mixed with faith. It's the tension we live between the kingdom of God has come but is yet still coming. It's the "I am going to prepare a place for you". It's the in between, the becoming.
It aches and it rejoices. It laments and it praises. It weeps and it revels.
It's another of the in between places of our lives.
I've always believed life is lived in the arrivals and destinations, but lately I've come to understand that most of life is not lived in the arrivals and destinations. Most of life is lived in the in between places. Life is lived in the preparing for, the persevering for, the striving for. Life is lived in between the momentous destinations. It's lived in between the births and the deaths, the weddings and the graduations, the birthdays and the anniversaries. Life is lived in between.
When we total up all those hours waiting in line, we're all going to spend a few years of our lives just standing around - probably a few more on hold, a few sitting in traffic, a few months waiting for webpages to load, a few more waiting for the kettle to boil.
We spend a lot of time in the in between.
And so I think the who we are in the in between matters. It matters a lot. Our character in the in between. Our faith in the in between. Our patience in the in between. They all matter far more than who we are when we arrive at the destinations of our lives.
Right now, nesting away, is the perfect opportunity to learn to be better at the in betweens. It's the perfect opportunity to practice diligence and patience. To refine my character. To go deeper in my relationship with God. To practice faith, hope and love. To be everyday more the me I was created to be.
It's an opportunity to stop hating the in between places and start embracing them as I'm refined in the Refiner's fire.
*Hannah is a pseudonym. In order to protect her identity until she is fully and legally mine, I use "Hannah" in all online activity regarding my someday daughter and her adoption.
Please consider helping us raise the last bit of Hannah's adoption fees:
1. Buy a t-shirt from AdoptionBug.com.
2. Buy coffee from JustLoveCoffee.com.
3. Send a check to Oasis Haven US: (Your gift through Oasis Haven US is tax deductible.)
PO Box 28362
San Diego, CA
*Please write "adoption support" on the memo line