Running up and down grassy mounds, biking around the park, see-sawing, climbing and digging up some mud. All in a day’s play because apparently the weather is about to change. I’m told that we have just a couple of weeks until temperatures drop, wind chill kicks in and we won’t want to be outside.
So, in anticipation, we’re making the most of every park and back yard possibility and running, and crawling off, as much energy as possible.
We’ve got a little way to go in acclimatising to the imminent shift in weather, as Rufus has suddenly started resisting all coats and insists on taking his shoes and socks off whenever he encounters a playground.
Billy, on the other hand, is proudly enjoying pointing to his head at any opportunity, and so hats are on trend.
Anticipating the cold chill is accompanied by our ongoing wait for visa news, and whether we’ll be able to stay. While the process ploughs on, the business is getting going and our lives are beginning to intertwine with others here, and it feels like we have an Illinois rhythm.
And we like it.
But, in a strange way, the uncertainty that comes with the wait has kept us sharp. Our faith is alive. We pray frequently, speaking to our compassionate, listening God about our situation. Asking him to help us trust Him with our now, and with our future. We feel the reality of our dependence on Him. We know, and love, that He is in charge rather than us. We’re running towards Him, rather than giving Him complacent backwards glances every now and then.
Our snow-wait is running, climbing and biking. Our visa-wait is praying, trusting and hoping.