Back dating number cinco- summing it up so far

It's been 3 1/2 weeks.  Home in my instant thoughts still takes me back to Florida.  To those surroundings, those friends, that house, that backyard.  That season of life.  I continue to feel out of place.  Somewhat lost in my surroundings.  I have nothing to be proud of in the way that I've more often broken under pressure instead of shining or growing.  Perhaps there is growth, of course there is - it's all fogged over for right now.  

          It all feels so temporary.  

But it is.  All of life is.  Florida was, and we knew that.  This feels more so, though.  Like we'll be here just for a few short months with this loaner furniture in this gorgeous house right by the ocean and then we'll pack back up and head back to FL.  Maybe once our furniture gets here?  Will it become more real then?  Stuff.  Does stuff make us feel at home?  It shouldn't.  It's just world.  We aren't home.  Not truly at "home".  Not the home designed for us.  

We went on an island tour last week.  There was the option to leave all three boys behind for free childcare.  I thought it was only for the two youngers.  It was too late.  Joel stayed behind, the olders came.  It was a long day for them, with no naps.  I have so completely trained daily naps into them.  Mostly its wonderful and convenient, but not on days like that day.  Not on some days.  

They took us all around the perimeter of the island, to all the little cities.  White washed houses with red terra cotta roofs.  So beautiful, picturesque.  So foreign.  The mountains were stunning - feeding my thirsty eyes.  The expanses of the ocean were glorious, intimidating and awe inspiring - still and looking like a blue wheat field, shifting ever so slightly in the breeze of the day.  The water had no detail from that high.  Hughes of blue stretching further than seen.  Boats propped up on top moved along the shifting field of blue.  Silhouettes on the expanses, three other Azore islands can be seen from up there.   Way up where the majestic cedar forests take over.  Where the hydrangeas grow like Aspens in the Rocky's.  They stretched out toward the skinny roads and fanned out their pedals as we drove by, littering the way with glorious sprays of color, hurriedly twirling in the trails of wind behind the vehicles.  Stacked stone fences guide the way, aging in the unpredictable island elements but holding strong - preserved lava, jagged and unforgiving.  Smoothed out only down along the shores from the constant, relentless pounding salty ocean.  Some even withstand - remaining unforgiving - to be avoided.  Clouds touch the tops of these peaks, pouring over them on the misty mornings as we watch from our windows in the house by the ocean.   The tour day is crystal clear, but these cedar tree tops have touched the clouds, stretching high and reaching into them, drinking the tiny water droplets.  

There's beauty here - designed by the most creative of all.  The Creator of creativity.  This world that he's given us while he prepares the next.  To think of the beauty that will be there - not to mention Him!   

Some of these days I've felt robotic - some I've felt like I'm thriving.  The hormones growing our 4th precious son don't help me feel stable.  They toss to and fro just like the volatile ocean out our back door.  But they aren't an excuse.  We can't make excuses for our gracelessness. 

  Some days the waves gently place themselves atop the jagged rocks, some days they pound on them, mercilessly and without grace.  Perhaps thats why watching those days is hard for me.  Those lava rocks the circumstances, and some days I charge forward lacking grace.  Pounding at them trying desperately to smooth them out despite my inability to do so.  Other days I'm more connected.  More connected with the One that teaches me grace, the only One with perfect grace.  He shows me how to cover over the jagged places slowly, and gently.  No relentless, pointless pounding.  There have been more volatile days for the ocean and I, since we moved here.  I don't look at the ocean much on it's volatile days - it's uncomfortable.  

We've experienced a lot of culture in these past weeks.  

We've eaten incredible food.

We've been a lot of places.  

We've met more people that I can remember names for. 

There's been a lot of tears.

There's also been laughter.

There's been frustrations.

But there's been fun.

Thats all in a nutshell.  Hopefully I'll keep up better now - write when I have something to say instead of trying to trail back and remember. I've left so much out, I know, but it's all too much to remember - the emotions and experiences - all more than I expected, though I had no idea what to expect.