The Last Diaper...

I found the last diaper today....

Not meaning a state of emergency in which I need to rush to the store for more...my kids are way past the diaper stage at 9,7 and almost 5, although I have thought of putting a diaper on the cotton-pickin' puppy, sometimes.

We are moving, and being in a state of denial, I have been lax and leisurely about packing. Probably because it seems such an insurmountable task. So I thought I could conquer the front hall closet. Small space, not used much, and if I just succumbed and gave up, I can just shut the closet door, and no one is the wiser. :) Perfect place for lax-leisure-lady to start.

So, I did. And I actually finished it, except for Mary's hanging dresses which I just plan to transport without packing. .... On the top shelf, untouched for 5 years, I found my second mini-diaper bag. This was the emergency on the go, type bag. Opening it up, I did not even remember it was a diaper bag, looked more like a camera bag.

What did I find inside? The last, lone diaper. Anthony's. AKA Tadpole. One last diaper and vestige of his babyhood. ........ A reminder of what has transpired in this house, the past five years, as we get ready to move....

Nicholas changing from a 4 yr old to a 9 year old boy....Tadpole from my toddling baby boy, to a first grader, and Mary joining our family. We have had such times in this house. Growth, love....struggles, triumphs...and the very presence of El Shaddai. I have never loved God as much as I have these past five years in this house.

So I am keeping the last diaper. Putting in my treasure chest....to treasure the last stage of babyhood, and to remember this season.

Bittersweet...nostalgic hope. I love my kids so much right now. The stage each of them are in. I look so forward to the stages to come. The plans our Abba has for us.....for hope and a future....

My heart encompasses the past, the future, and the moment......

(And look how much time I got away from packing, by writing this!!!! :))

A picture of Tadpole (in the yellow in the back) and Nicholas, reading, when we moved into this house....4 and 2. Hearts raw from a broken family, yet so young to not understand why....old enough to feel the pain.

(Amusing....Nicholas' chosen reading. I wonder if it helped?)