Sage Burning

I woke at 5am this morning, excited for my yellow house.

This is the home I got to design and build for a family I didn’t even have yet, but that I knew from temple visions… and now bring home.

The biggest thing for our children is knowing they belong.  

They know Alex and Anber lived here, that this is where Anber was left on our porch in an EMSA blanket while the caseworker ran back to the car for paperwork, that this is where Alex met her that first morning when he leaned over the pack-n-play and whispered:

Where did you get that little brown baby? At the gift shop?

They know I dreamed of them living here before I met them, and they have even visited here a few times between renters.

We even came already to assess my garden space, which canned up fed us through three years of medical crises.

They know we will have to start the garden over, and they know we called it the Jubilee years, where my bit of Earth got to rest so it will be fresh and replenished and ready for us again.

But yesterday we packed backwards, pulling out three days of outfits, and then loading up the rest and bringing it here so their closets are ready.

This is more than convenience.

For our kids working so hard on attachment, this is safety.

The last thing these children need are more changes and more uprooting, but we are coming out of Kyrie’s two years of hospitals and doing the best we can.

It’s good to be coming home, even if only for a respite as promised.

You will have a time of rest, and of celebration, even peace.

So even though we are all excited, there is underlying anxiety and we want the children to transition as smoothly as possible.

One thing we are emphasizing is how much they are growing up, and the individuality and independence that comes with such maturity.

For this, we made them each their own hygiene basket!

Kyrie’s is the most simple, of course, with just her toothbrush and toothpaste and some pretend chapstick, and with Mary’s already being the most complicated with her preteen supplies and satin hair net for sleeping with braids and all those things that are changing her from child to tween when she isn’t even 9 yet (but any day now, as she reminds us frequently).

We are super excited to bring the children later this morning and show them their claim on the house, and of course we are making a music video to help process like we do everything else.

I started bringing instruments this morning: my cello and hammer dulcimer, and Nathan’s violin, and the children’s violin.  

Shower curtains are up and new bathroom floor mats are down. 

Utilities are transferred and internet is on its way, a necessity for us because of our work, though we still choose not to have cable or satellite or television.

We are ready to start functioning here in the chaos, with furniture coming Thursday night (which is super annoying to everyone but became necessary because of scheduling conflict with the stake’s father-son campout).  We load up at 430 and unload at 730, if anyone wants to help!

Even the ducks are excited to see us home!

About Emily

I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints since 2009. I serve as a Chaplain, and work as a counselor. I got bilateral cochlear implants in 2010, but will always love sign language. I choose books over television, and organics over processed. Nothing is as close to flying as ballroom dancing - except maybe running, when in the solo mood. I would rather be outside than anywhere else, especially at the river riding my bike or kayaking. PhD in Marriage and Family Therapy, and currently doing a post-doc in Jewish Studies and an MDiv in Pastoral Counseling. The best thing about Emily World is that it's always an adventure, even if (not so) grammatically precise. The only thing better than writing is being married to a writer. Nathan Christensen and I were married in the Oklahoma City temple on 13 October 2012, and have since fostered more than eighty-five children. We have adopted the six who stayed, and are totally and completely and helplessly in love with our family. Nathan writes musical theater, including "Broadcast" (a musical history of the radio) and an adaption of Lois Lowry's "The Giver". He served his mission in South Korea, has taught song-writing in New York City public schools, and worked as a theater critic for a Tucson newspaper. This is not an official Web site of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

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