So this past Monday we gathered up every document we could think of, combed the kids' hair, and headed back out to the public school down the street.
We were supposed to be there at twelve-thirty on the dot. We were. We sat in the waiting room and waited for a really, really long time. Selma colored. Malachai read his book. Josu sat on my lap and fretted "What time is it? When will it be our turn? Why aren't they here?"
I held him tight and whispered to him:
"God is near, sweet boy; He is not outside of this; we can trust Him"
We were finally called up, only to be told by the secretary that she had no idea who we were or why we were there. Neither the afternoon principal nor the morning principal were present; they had been gone for a while . . . we needed to leave.
And on our way out the door, we ran into both principals. The afternoon principal greeted us warmly and introduced our kids to the morning principal as future "academic olympians" for the school (it was like a reunion of old friends! crazy, I tell you!)
Ah yes, they still wanted to make room for us, but they couldn't guarantee anything yet. We needed return in the fall . . . on the first day of school. They could only tell us for sure then.
So, we keep slowly moving forward with our school plans; we'll show up on the first day of school with neatly groomed children and hearts full of hope.
Meanwhile, we are preparing ourselves for a possible last minute "no" from the school. We've been checking our budget numbers to see what line items could be cut if we needed to find a private school for the kids; we make mental notes of schools that we stumble upon on our afternoon walks . . . and very often, I whisper to my own heart:
"God is near, Naomi; He is not outside of this; you can trust Him"