This Christmas season, I’ve felt the thrill of hope in a very real way.
There’s a surge of something—I can’t quite describe it—that goes through me when I get a bit of good news or when the fog clears and the way ahead becomes more obvious. It’s not just emotional or mental; there’s almost a physical sensation attached to it.
Life is happening, prompting me to take an unscheduled break from blogging these last few weeks. There’s a lot crowding my mind and my schedule right now, so rather than stress about when I was going to squeeze in time to write, I just let it go.
I’m in full-on, do-the-next-thing mode, on multiple fronts. I have no endings to share—happy or otherwise; the stories are still being written. I’m waiting, watching, helping, trusting and praying—always praying, especially in the middle of the night.
Thanks to my daughters’ holiday spirit and a November blizzard that kept us homebound a few Sunday afternoons ago, my whole house is decorated for Christmas. Before I wave goodbye to fall once and for all, however, I’m going to ease back into blogging by jotting down a few realizations from the season just past.
• I love fall, but fall is hard for me.
Fall is when I start to sleep better. Fall is when everything gets cozy and nesting begins in earnest. Fall is when the Holy Spirit slips my new OneWord for the coming year into my mind (more on that in the coming weeks).
But fall also tends to be exhausting, discouraging and depleting for me, though I can’t fully explain why. And when I’m in the middle of this, it helps me to remember: I’ve been here before. This too shall pass.
• I don’t handle stress as well as I thought.
I’m trying to do better, and I’m grateful for the grace my family extends to me when I’m frayed and frazzled. When my girls are grown, though, I hope they are more inclined to remember the times I apologized after overreacting rather than the overreactions themselves.
• When you have every reason to believe the upcoming season is going to be easy (or at least easier than it was last year), don’t hold on to that expectation too tightly.
If we were seated across the table from one another at a comfy coffee shop, I’d explain how this has played out in my life recently. But I have a feeling you might understand what I mean, even without further elaboration.
• Help is my new love language.
For me, love languages are all tied up in the understanding that someone is thinking of me—enough to call, to text, to send a card, to buy me something her or she knows I would love, and now, to offer to help.
This help thing is something I’m just realizing about myself as I’ve been juggling the balls of caring for my family, supporting my dad and trying to see my mom when my dad can’t. Even if my only answer is, “Please pray,” when a friend inquires about how she can help, a piece of my burden rises off my heart and drifts away knowing she cared enough to ask.
• Snow on fall foliage is beautiful.
I didn’t take any pictures of our rather unusual mid-November weather because I simply wanted to enjoy it while it was happening. But red, orange and yellow leaves peeking out from under a blanket of white is truly something to behold.
• I miss blogging when I skip a week or three.
It’s true, dear readers. I have missed writing and interacting with you here. This realization has been a blessing, because there have been times this year when I’ve wondered if I still had the desire and/or the gumption to continue blogging.
Turns out, I do. I haven’t been writing much lately, but I have been thinking—a lot. And I’m very much looking forward to fleshing some of those thoughts out and sharing them with you soon.
• • •
That’s my list. What did you learn this fall?
♥ Lois
When my children are grown, I hope they are more inclined to remember the times I apologized after overreacting rather than the overreactions themselves. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with Emily Freeman, Let’s Have Coffee, #TellHisStory, Faith on Fire, Faith ‘n Friends and Grace & Truth.
When my girls were small, we used to listen to a CD of Bible verses put to music. One of my favorites was based on Psalm 56:4-5a—“When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise.”
The point of these songs, of course, is to give children a fun way to memorize scripture. But the added benefit for me, as the parent, was that I learned the verses too. Quite well, apparently, as I still sing the verse from Psalm 56 in my head when the cares and stresses of life start making it hard for me to breathe.
Right now, my days are full of the usual and the unexpected. And as I drive down tree-lined streets on the way the next task on my list—or the next thing I didn’t plan to be doing today—the brilliant reds, yellows and oranges of the fall foliage are bringing joy to my spirit.
It’s true. Leaves make me happy.
Like so many others, my heart has been touched as I’ve read accounts of Eugene Peterson’s last days, final words and spiritual influence.
I appreciate his contributions to Christendom, of course—the 85-year-old retired pastor was the bestselling author of The Message Bible and A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, among many other notable titles.
I’ve asked the question. I’ve heard other people ask it. Maybe you’ve even pondered it yourself. What is God trying to teach me through this?
I understand the idea behind the words, but lately, this question has kinda been bothering me. It makes it seem like God is some kind of novice instructor who doesn’t really know the best way to get through to His struggling student.