Summer Journal No. 2 | The Three Brothers' Room

After nearly 10 years, we no longer have a nursery. It’s an end of an era. The twins are officially moved out of the nursery and into Elias’ room, which has become the “three brothers’ room”. I would have held onto that season longer if not for a nudge telling me, “It’s time.” They enjoy being all together and I pray it grows a strong bond. Their room holds my collection of old ship paintings, which albeit is not very large or valuable, but it means something to me. I’ve always loved ships and the sea. It feels both calming and adventurous. As we are learning Latin, I found out the word adventure comes from the same root as “advent” and means “about to happen”. And so, while I am sad that the last of my babies’ babyhood is fading quickly away I also see the adventure coming for them in their little kid years: forts and knights, cars and trains, laughter and wrestling when they should be in bed. I see adventure for our little band of brothers, and I am excited for their adventure in brotherhood as they grow into strong, brave, and compassionate young men.

For now, they are figuring out the dynamic of existing together. At bedtime the boys always ask for a “three brothers story” where they open an invisible story cabinet with their hidden keys. (Usually stored in their bellybuttons for lack of pockets.) In the stories, the incredible “three brothers” live in an enchanted forrest and have the ability to talk to animals. They use this super-power to rescue creatures in need. It’s always a thrilling adventure, complete with acting out all the scenes and making every animal noise. Boys, you know. As I tell them these stories I imagine my boys growing up and actually using all their strengths for good in a similar way. I hope they are strong. I hope they know how to work as a team. I hope they have ears that listen out for those in need. I pray for many real adventures as they travel through life together. Though they’re still little, their older years are just around the corner and I can see it coming in the distance.

In the now empty nursery I choose to see the “about to happen” too. With hope and expectation, we’ve made it a recording and work space. I hope a different kind of thing will be birthed and cradled there. It’s not for me to know the times and seasons, but to simply follow God’s leading by taking the next step. Though I don’t see what’s coming, faith in God’s goodness gives me excitement for what is ahead.