We spend the entirety of our lives in this middle place between birth and death. A place where the most majestic sunset can punctuate your worst day, where laughter and tears can walk hand in hand in a comically confusing dichotomy, where aspects of death can be beautiful in the same way that parts of life can destroy you.

Rocking one daughter to sleep as the other tells me about shark races while dressed as a unicorn princess is sacred chaos. Washing the piles of clothes that now include the tiny onesies I thought would never come out of storage is mundane and miraculous.

It’s easy to pray for what you want and envision a specific outcome, not unlike a preschooler asking for a snack and expecting said snack in exactly .3 seconds. But offering up those same hopes and desires and then trusting God completely with whatever his response may be? Well, that’s the opposite of easy.

Resting in those mountains, in the silence and refreshing separation from the world we were able to feel the joy of the life set before us. It was there that we agreed that it was time to dive into life with Lora and close our family building chapter. We wanted to focus on the path we had been placed on, one where we get to enjoy life with our miraculous, wild little girl.

God’s response? A knowing smile. And maybe a little laughter.

We’re in no way more equipped to handle this ridiculous life than anyone else; I promise our day-to-day is just as uniquely chaotic as yours. But at this point we have a cabin in the valley of the shadow of death. Maybe you’ve found yourself here too. So stop by. Let me pour you some coffee while rest your feet a minute. Our stories might have more in common than you think.

Our leader's experience allowed him to see those brutally imposing formations as a welcoming, familiar pattern of peaks and valleys. By trusting his guidance, we spent days adventurously exploring the craggy landscape, landing in places with views that took our breath away almost as much as the altitude did.