Four

At one time, I came to the realization that I wanted to have four children.

Or not so much wanted as was destined to have four children.

And I use the word destined in a vocational/called/listening-to-God's-voice sort of way.

Though there could be heavy debate whether it all works that way or not.  I am always reminded of those who feel called to something and then it doesn't happen.  Or happens in a completely unexpected surprising way.

But that's God for you.


Scene:
I am brushing my teeth in the bathroom of a college dorm at the University of Idaho.  I am a youth director.  I have a handful of high school youth in my charge.  We are learning about leadership.  I am around three months pregnant with my first, but I haven't told the kids or anyone at church yet.  It is 2005.  A high school girl named Tewsdey (which, isn't that a pretty sweet name?) runs up to me and excitedly tells me about her dream, which I was in.  I had four boys.

Uh oh.


But that number four has stuck with me.  And (conveniently) my husband too.  That helps.


There are days when three kids feel like three too many.

And there are many, many moments when I feel like I'm missing someone.  I'll think, "Oh, one of them is in their room"  or  "one is in their crib" or "I need to go get one of them."

And then I look around and realize all three are already in the room with me.

It's like a phantom pain, or something.  This missing, unfulfilled person.


We already have a name, for goodness sakes.


Of course, life is full of twists and turns and what-nots.  We don't get to choose in matters such as this.  Child number four may never exist at all.  Or may come in unexpected, surprising ways.  Who knows.  Not me.  Not any of us.

It is a lovely number though.