Yellow Wreaths and Health Insurance

My body is betraying me.

In more ways than one sometimes.
But lately, in its rebellion to nearing a quarter of a century, I awoke at 4:30 AM.

I tried lulling myself back to sleep by laying quietly.


Only thoughts of a sweet bungalow in one of our favorite neighborhoods with a perfectly cutesy blue front door.

This is Josh’s fault.

Normally I’m the one dreaming of bungalows, stalking them on Zillow, finding the one (albeit minute) detail that completely flaws the whole house rendering it useless to us. (“It’s not that we don’t have the money, it’s that those countertops are just ALL WRONG.)

But last night that man showed me the dreamy bungalow in one of our favorite neighborhoods with the perfectly cutesy blue front door and I did it.

I fell in love.

And at 4:30 AM I decided how wonderfully sweet that bungalow would look with a yellow flowered wreath on its door.

Which inevitably spiraled down to, “Well that’s not going to to happen. How are you going to afford a home when you’re not sure how to afford health insurance in a year? How are you going to have children if you don’t have health insurance? How are you going to have children when you will just have to drop them off at childcare for 80% of their day?” And so on and so forth.

There are a lot of things we have.

Healthy families.
(Reasonably) healthy bodies.
A place to call “our own” even if we are paying a landlord and not the bank.
Work we enjoy.
Friends and community to share joys and sorrow with.
Food in our cupboards and in our refrigerator.
(Reasonably) reliable transportation.

There are a lot of things we want.

And to be present in their lives.
A home.
Small is ok.
Internationally and around America.
A new bike.
Wait. That’s Josh’s.

So the fight for contentment and gratidude, while still working towards our goals continues.

Because sometimes it really does feel like a fight.
And you reason with yourself.
“There will be more dreamy houses in one of our favorite neighborhoods when the time is right.”

And sometimes you just get out of bed at 6:00 on a Saturday morning, adjust the dining room chair you’re using as a living room chair in the best position to see the sun come up through the classic sliding apartment window.

And sit with Scripture.

We have so much to be thankful for.


^^This photo always sparks gratitude in my heart. Not because I was feeling especially grateful. Our “yard” is in the bleak brownness of winter and my husband is using a tiny grill on our front stoop which is an instant reminder of how long we’ve been in the same apartment. But I’m so grateful. I’m grateful for that tiny grill making some delicious hamburgers to share with my husband. I’m grateful even for this season of waiting and working.



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