The sky is crystal today, the sun shining so bright it hurts to look at the blue. If I look outside long enough, I can see fall. The colors are changing. There's yellows and browns and reds. It's also quieter. There's a stillness that hits whenever the temperatures drop below 80.
I'm scrolling through Spotify, searching for songs to add to a playlist I haven't touched in years. I've spent the last hour deleting songs that don't describe our season anymore — songs speaking of daughters, of theology I don't agree with, of trite explanations to a life filled with nuance.
I get a text from Russ.
I found a song, he says.
I click on the link and tears begin to fall.
Well, I traveled a long way
And it took a long time
To find you
But I finally found you
Alabama Shakes knows how to get to the root of it, and I laugh thinking about when I first added the song to our list four years ago. Four years ago, the title was different. Four years ago, I thought our wait of two and a half years was excruciating. Four years ago I thought there was no way I could wait another minute.
But I sure did find you
And He blessed my soul.
We're refining the songs for our baby shower. In a little over three hours, some of our closest friends and family will gather to celebrate a wait that's nearly over. Our little lion man is coming home in just over a month, and every day it feels like we're careening into another stage of our lives at a faster pace than before. I know this like I know the season outside: my emotions are warring with each other. I'm wanting to savor what I have now while simultaneously speed toward what (and who) is coming. Just like the change of season, it's gotten quieter around us. We're rooting down. We're preparing. We're stealing glances that mean the same thing: This is really it. My heart is kinda freaking out too. After all of this you're still my home. You still feel like earth and sky.
We grab each other's hands when we pass in the kitchen. He's making cake balls and I'm eating cereal. We know the truth: we're building our roots because the air around us is about to explode with magic.