Swaddled

Currently, our most relaxing room in the house is the nursery. I'd say this is a great accomplishment save for the fact that it speaks of the other aspects in our life that are not relaxing- a kitchen full of dishes from my cooking adventures today, items in various "staging" areas to pack away and store or donate (all accumulated from cleaning and prepping the nursery), an office that is in dire need of attention.

Ugh...

But... there is peace in the nursery.

The green paint color that we chose for the walls is called "dancing green." It's vivid, yet quiet; much like how the leaves on the Aspen dance in springtime from the slightest breath expelled from the Colorado Rockies. We have a "sleep sheep" on Baby-D's crib which emits noises to lull you to sleep too: Heartbeat, Rain, Ocean... and whale calls. Whale calls? Well, not sure about that one, but it is there nonetheless.

I suppose Mel and I have great anticipation of what's to come. As we should. As I ponder the future, I consider how I desire to offer our little one a place of refuge- not only in this nursery, but in our arms, in our lives... engulfed by our love. I want to keep him safe. I want to keep my family safe. Financially, emotionally, spiritually, physically.

In light of my dad's recent cycling accident, I have come to the realization that I have entered into a new era of adulthood. It's given me pause to not only consider how to provide for Melissa and Baby-D, but that one day (hopefully in the distant future) we'll be considering how to care for our parents as well.

There is much responsibility to be had and I don't always feel like I am up to the task; however, sitting in the nursery this evening, and the security that's felt here, helps me to realize that we're doing a pretty good job and that it's gonna be okay. It's just that even though I know that God is my rock, and I have the most incredible family collective in the world, I still find myself asking sometimes...

.... Who will keep me safe?