Oh, you want to know where I've been?
Just a little vacation...
Or at home hanging out on the waterproof tablecloth with my little lady...
Whichever answer you think is more likely.
I almost did go to Costa Rica once.
I was seconds away from clicking the purchase button for my airline ticket.
I couldn't do it.
My parents had been gone for three years, living in Brazil, and they were coming home the day after I would have left.
I debated and debated and finally chose to stay home.
I couldn't miss my parent's homecoming.
It was the right decision.
But I still want to go to Costa Rica.
Anyone have a home there they want to loan out to a guy, a girl, and an adorable one year old?
* * *
One of our favorite things to do as a little family is take a walk on Sunday evening.
We walk through my parent's neighborhood and dream about our future.
Tonight while Emily slept in her stroller Jason and I talked about our ideal...what would happen in the best case scenario.
When our walk ended, and while Jason put Emily in the car, I ran into the house and found Mom and Dad talking in the front room.
I sat down and said quickly, " I just want to remind you that my future depends on your future. Make it happen!"
It doesn't matter what 'it' is...not really.
But I didn't want them to forget what I had schemed up so many months ago.
My dad looked at me skeptically and said, "You really think all of that is going to happen?"
"Dad, this is me trying to have faith. Don't ruin it," was my reply.
My dad sighed and said, "I don't want to have faith anymore."
He wasn't implying that he was losing his faith.
Not even a little bit.
What he was saying is that he wants the thing my family has been praying for FOREVER to finally happen...he wants our faith in this one aspect to be rewarded.
I thought about our short conversation all the way home.
It's good to know that even someone as faithful as my dad has his moments of wanting to throw his hands up in the air and direct a 'really?' heavenward.
It somehow makes me feel validated...like maybe I'm not as wimpy as I thought I was.
Thanks Dad, for reminding me that it's okay to be human.