November Blue

Lovers,

The first day of a new month is always minty-fresh, isn't it?

Winter is coming, and I'm excited for the stark newness it always seems to bring with it.  The past three months have been rough, to say the least.  I can't help but remember late last year, when I forecasted 2013's theme as being one of "Solitude."

Over the past few months, I've felt the reality of that word in a maddening sense.  Solitude wasn't intended to mean isolation, but rarely do predicted emotions work out the way you intend them too.  "So it goes, so it goes. "

October is over.  It is done, it won't come around for another 12 months.  With it, I also say goodbye to the crisp tear-stained nights spent hugging my pillowcase in quiet moments of frustration, and I say goodbye to the crinkly sounds of Nat King Cole teasing my tired heart to sleep only to wake suddenly a few hours later in the deadest hours of night, worrying about things I cannot control. 

Goodbye, tiny hurts.  November marks the beginning of a new season in which I plan to practice thankfulness and exaggerated amounts of prayer. 

"Just a closer walk with thee, granted Jesus is my plea. Daily walking close to thee, let it be, dear Lord, let it be."

Life is spurring us all onward, lovers. 

For me, this looks like new papers to write and new classes to enroll in and Christmas holidays to be spent in warm places.  It looks like falling in love with my new puppy, Moseby.  (Photographs to come soon after his arrival into my arms next weekend.)  It looks like a few excruciatingly difficult conversations which God is prepping me daily for, despite my fears and hesitations on the changes those conversations might bring. It looks like unforeseen, exciting expansion at work, it looks like saying goodbye to life as I've known it over the past two years, and holding my own hands as I toddle carefully into the future. ( I can't hold your hand anymore, dearest, to keep me strong.  I have to hold my own now. I am sorry. )

It looks like singing hymns in the shower.  It looks like laughing again, really laughing.  It looks like new journeys, previously known as adventures. It looks like dressing up my puppy in sunglasses and capes and driving with him to new places. It looks like making the distinctive shift from freely sharing to carefully guarding my precious heart. It looks like sipping Water Avenue coffee in my pajamas while perusing Pinterest and setting new personal goals for my life.  (Such as: get a French Bulldog, marry a man with an impressive bearding ability, convince that man to build me my very own tree-house. For those of you wondering, I am 1/3 of the way there.  Or I will be as soon as Moseby comes home next weekend.)

It looks like letting go completely of the past two years and all their overwhelming significance on my life.  Yes, the past two years have changed me completely- I have come a strangely full 360 degrees since I left for Ecola two years ago.  Those years were beautiful, and life-changing, and they swelled and surged as powerfully as the stormy ocean they were set by....   But they're over.  They're over, just like the month of October is finally over, and I cannot cling to them as my buoy anymore. 

I must stand on my own two feet from now on.  My eyes cannot be turned over my shoulder, yearning for that one summer filled with those heartbreaking people anymore.  My eyes are upward, forward.  "My chains fell off, my heart is free- I rose, went forth and followed thee. "

It's freeing, and sharp, and scary, and sometimes I feel throttled by fear, but I know it is right.  It is good.  I am trusting the Lord, and that is all-consuming, as it should be.

Today I am thankful for the first day of a new month.

I am thankful for the emotional roller coaster this year has been.

I am thankful for hymns.

I am thankful for the word "yirgacheffe" even though I have no idea what it means.

I am thankful for this space and the words I choose to fill it with, words you are so loving and caring to receive.

Happy November, lovers.