Alianna is learning to walk. On September 4, she took her first steps, 2-3 at a time, between Jason and me. She did it about 10x that evening. Now we can stand her up and once she gets her balance, she’ll stand for quite a while, then take a few steps, then fall. We’re so proud of her and she’s been a trooper about it all, not really getting frustrated but willing to try it over and over again. She’s in this in between stage. Between crawling and walking. Between baby and toddler.
We’ve been in between homes for 7 months now. It’s getting old. Really old. I feel like a jerk for even complaining because I know the new house is going to be a great blessing and worth the wait. In addition, we’ve really got a great situation here living with my parents who help with Ali and cooking and charge us less rent than we’d be getting anywhere near here. But I’m really ready to be in our own home again, you know? I look at pictures of our old house and I miss it. I miss the feeling of coming home. I go inside our new house in the midst of construction and I’m excited…and impatient. I feel stuck in between.
Separation. It’s the step in between married and divorced. Jason and I have some friends who are separated right now after 10 years of marriage. It’s painful to see them hurting, even nauseating at times. I feel so helpless. We’re brokenhearted for them and want so badly to see them come back together. All we know to do is to pray and to be available as friends when they need to talk. I think separation is stupid; it’s one foot into divorce and it’s really hard to move backward. The space in between them is killing their marriage.
I’m beginning to despise the in between.
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