everything has changed: or, i have plenty to be thankful for

Happy Thanksgiving from the Trivits family!

I know it's typically at the end of the year that we reflect and "see how far we've come" and all that, but it seems all too appropriate to express thanks on the day that's set aside specially for giving thanks.  We have been so very blessed this year - in some crazy and unexpected ways.

It has been monnnnnths since I've posted, and that's because I was in the midst of transitions.  A lot of 'em.  And I've been processing through them.  Mostly to myself.  Or, mostly to Kevin.

Some of these transitions you probably know about.  Like being me being pregnant.  It was a textbook pregnancy (barring that hiccup of PUPPs at the end that seemed to signal my imminent labor).  But in the span of those nine months, Kevin and I have moved twice; had a total of three roommates, a slew of visitors; had issues with finances tax-related, tire-related, rent-related; had changes in our work situations, good and bad; had highs and extreme lows in ministry; and have strained to keep our marriage a priority throughout it all.  Bear in mind, all this with my overload of hormones and a natural bent toward deep introversion.  

I stopped singing.  I stopped reading.  I stopped journaling. I stopped trying.  I watched Friends for hours upon hours.  I cleaned like I was certifiable.  I sulked and whimpered and lamented the state of things.  I tried to buck up.  I tried to power through.  I tried to submit to God's will, which clearly all of these transitions were.  I tried to be transparent with Kevin and my close friends.  I tried to be an understanding, gracious, loving person.  But I just wasn't… feeling it.  During this time of huge transition, in this regard, nothing changed.  I had a bad attitude, secretly or not-so-secretly, for nine months.  

Then, a week before our precious miracle, Daphne Rose, was born, I realized that none of this was me.  None of this was mine.  Not my house(s), not my time, not my money, not my job, not my ministry, not my friendships, not my space, and not my will.  These are things that are given to me; I'm a sort of steward not owner of these gifts, responsible for using them for others not selfishly hoarding them till I see fit.  Nothing is mine.  

And for this, I am grateful.  It takes all the pressure off, doesn't it?  When I don't have to question how I "use my resources"?  It's answered for me.  Use them for others.  God gives me permission to bend over backward for people: it's not just something I'm allowed to do when I'm on the clock at Starbucks, where customer service is actually everything.  I'm allowed to serve others without reservation, without expectation of return, and without thought for my personal convenience, or even happiness.  

This newfound understanding was the pièce de résistance to my nesting.  This home is prepared, as much as it can be, for the arrival of our daughter.  And by home, I - of course - mean myself.  If I'm not willing to sacrifice all for this child, what am I doing with this life?  Who am I?

So, I am overwhelmingly grateful.

I'm grateful for the transitions.

I'm grateful for the hardships.

I'm grateful for a husband who stands up to me, prods me, but doesn't take my feelings for granted.

I'm grateful for a healthy, beautiful, precious baby girl (I can't get enough of her! Thanks for letting me plaster your newsfeeds with so many pictures)!

I'm grateful for learning experiences: roommates, financial decisions, and communication with friends.

I'm grateful for supportive family members and friends who in turn encourage and admonish me.

I'm grateful for times to reflect, evaluate, redirect, and move forward.

Now, as I look toward the end of the year, Kevin and I are settling down in our home sans roommate, avec baby.  After nine months of transition, we are landing somewhere.  Settling down.  And we are receiving blessing upon blessing with the understanding that it's all for the purpose of giving it away.

 And now, another picture of my adorable little pink princess.  Just for fun.  :)

abiding at advent

'Tis the season.  

Advent.

The coming of our Lord.

The great miracle of Incarnation.

The monumental shift of history.

And how do we celebrate?

By waiting.

Hoping.

Preparing.

We look forward in anticipation, certainly,

but these actions are hardly exciting - or even active, for that matter.

Not what you might expect for an event so huge we're still talking about it millennia after the fact.

Celebration, this season, is mere attitude, perspective, or inward reflection and preparation?

And yet, no amount of active striving will make Christmas come any sooner.

I feel this way sometimes.  

No, rather often.

That my life is just a waiting game.

It's all about to change, 

truly, everything is about to change.

The coming year will hold great things.

But I'm in-between.

I'm here, the important and monumental life-changing-points are out there.

Out there, beyond my control.

I can use no 'exciting' or 'active' verbs to get myself closer.

No striving will make it happen sooner.

It's a waiting game.

Hoping.

Preparing.

But what if this next big thing is just like the last big thing?

I reach it (finally), 

adjust, get comfortable with the change, 

and then I'm in-between again.

It's like the slight let-down after Christmas. 

All the presents are unwrapped, and there are no more surprises.

Ah, well - 365 days till next Christmas.

Maybe what I'm trying to process is the idea that maybe Advent is trying to teach me something else.

A different lesson altogether than just waiting, hoping and preparing.

Maybe the lesson I'm learning is to abide.

That because of (and in spite of) my hopes, even when the end is in sight,

it is possible to live in a state of perpetual contentment, and active progress.

This is my own type of preparation.  

Continuing, progressing through time in a particular condition or attitude.

At this moment, 

I could very easily launch into a trite tirade on how we should live as if every day is Christmas.  

That's not what I want, though, really.

I can't live every moment as if it's a mountain-top experience, 

a monumental change in history.

How exhausting.

I just want to be ready for those moments, 

while still loving and living the life that I have.

Make the most of the in-betweens.

The periods of waiting.

Celebrate Advent.