The rain pours steadily, as cars splash through the puddles on the street below our open window. Impatiently the people rush by, embodying the feeling we are thankful to avoid. We are waiting still, in the rush of summer, for any news on the house that fills our favorite conversations. Whichever way the news falls, we'll be happy to hear it, but this silence as we wait: too quiet for too long. Still though, there are boxes to pack, jobs to work, and smiles to collect. So we sit and wait, praying all the time for babies and open doors.