In Which God is Writing with Invisible Ink

I'm beginning to see the faint outlines of God's pen writing our story.  You know, the outlines that show up when one writes with invisible ink.  Or water on paper.  I'm not sure what exactly he's writing but I know he's authoring an amazing tale.  I've been given glimpses into the story, but He hasn't quite revealed it all to me yet (or I haven't been paying close enough attention to see it if he has).

Last year when we returned from Tanzania I was slammed with photo sessions.  It was Crazy with a capital C.  We didn't understand why, especially because it lasted all the way through winter - which is very rare.  And then we heard God tell us to return to Moshi only 9 short months after our previous trip.  He was writing.  He knew we would need the funds, and he was writing all those sessions into our story so we would have the push we needed to continue fundraising.  He was writing all those people into our story so we could share our hearts with them and spread the word.

This time around we've been here for a week, and I've already scheduled three sessions (two stateside).  I've over-booked myself through the end of March and April and am almost booked up in May.  I've offered sessions to the missionaries and other families that live here and I've already got at least four families interested.  I wonder, what lies beneath these outlines of invisible ink I'm seeing?

As we observe the other family here transitioning into living here full time I can't help but think what it would be like if that were us.  And frankly: I feel like we're {extremely close to being} ready.  I want to jump right in, I want to learn to drive on the opposite side of the road.  I'm reading a book titled "Simplified Swahili", reading signs around town, and eavesdropping on conversations that Peter & Mary have and picking up a lot of the language.  I want to go to language school in Arusha and immerse myself in the study of this language.  I'm making friends and lunch dates and even going to a playgroup with O and I want this.  I cook on a gas stove with or without power.  I wash dishes by hand in a basin filled with water that was just boiling in a pot.  I watch O play with a stick, writing in the dirt and banging it, watching the dust fly.  And he's happy.

He sits down automatically to take his sandals off at the doorway and I see his dirty little feet pitter-patter across the tile.  And he is happy.  I go to the market and I want to remember which vendors are the best and fill my countertop with fresh produce.  I give O a bath in a tub filled with cold water, then a pot of boiling water to make it warm for him.  I want this.

I know there is SO much more that goes into coming here full-time, but I'm learning, we're learning all about it right now and I'm taking notes.  I know we aren't actually ready, but I also know we're pretty darn close.  The other night Bill (jokingly?) said, "So we're gonna move here in August so you can start the school year?".  I scoffed at his silliness.
But I kind of can't stop thinking about it.

I'm ready to hold this paper to the light so I can see black-on-white ink and know what, when and how God has this story unfolding for us - I want the invisible ink to be revealed, and that is my prayer as we head into our second week in Moshi.