This Season

To every thing there is a season,

and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and a time to lose;

a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and a time to sew;

a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time of war, and a time of peace.

Ecclesiatstes 3:1-8

My students had to memorize and recite poems for class today.  Megan found a website that had a lot of poems with literary merit listed and we gave them the link and asked them to choose from the list.   Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 was on the list, and since it’s fairly easy to memorize (or should have been!) several of my students chose it.  My first period is not honors, so they didn’t have to memorize, but were to attempt a dramatic reading of one of the poems.  When the first student read the verses out loud, this mama’s eye welled up with tears. 

I claimed these verses two years ago when I was weeping, mourning, breaking down, hating my circumstances, processing death.  Christmas two years ago was the worst of my life.  We decorated our house and went through the motions and missed our baby boy like crazy. Last year we had both girls, and although we were so grateful, the stress of sharing Amoura was exhausting, and the events that actually transpired over the holiday cast a shadow on our first Christmas with Layla.

But this year is different.

We spent last night at the Village Park riding the train with Layla, her bestie, Quinn, and her parents Kimberly and Jason. 

The picture says it all: we moms had been waiting far too long to snuggle bundled up babies under the glow of giant trees and fake snow falling.  I kept thinking to myself as we smiled for pictures and encouraged the girls to look at all the pretty lights, “what a difference a year makes.”  Christmas of 2014 was tough for Jason and Kimberly.  They’d gone through three failed adoptions and still had empty arms.  Now they have a nine month old, and we get to freak out together over awesome Christmas bibs and “bow of the month” clubs for baby girls. This is our season of “getting” and it feels incredible.

When I warned my students today that I might cry, they wanted an explanation.  How can you NOT cry at the promises in these verses?  Even in my saddest season, I believed that a time to dance was coming.  I knew I would laugh again.  I didn’t know when or what it would look like, but I knew it was coming.  And now that it’s here and it has a name and calls me mama, I am so grateful and humbled and ashamed of myself for not always giving thanks. This Christmas season, may I not forget for one second what a gift I’ve been given, not just in my baby girl, but in the baby boy who was born in a manger and became not just the Savior of the world, but the Savior of a small town English teacher who cries when her students recite poetry. 

Advent Season

My blogger idol/virtual friend/person I adore most who I’ve never met in real life, Brooke, made a commitment in November to blog everyday.  It was like a month long early Christmas gift to me from her.  I love reading her blog.  I love how honest she is and how funny she is and how she can put into words exactly how I feel about so many things.  Each day when her post showed up in my email, I felt like I was catching up with a friend.  I also felt a little jealous because she had time was making time in her day to write and I was not.  Yes, she has a full time job (as an English professor), a husband, two kids, and a dog. And, yes, she found time every day in November to write something down and share it with the masses.  I’ve been thinking if she can do it, I can do it, too.

One huge difference between Brooke and me is that she is not a Face.book user and I am.  That’s really the only major difference time wise I can come up with, although since I don’t know her personally, I’m just guessing here.  If I put down my freaking cell phone and pick up my laptop (and manage not to look at Face.book on it either) I can easily put enough time in my day to write.  And, let’s face it, I NEED to put the phone down and write, talk, exercise, DO SOMETHING other than staring at a phone screen.

Today is the first day of the advent season.  For some reason, this year more than any other year before, I want to celebrate each day that leads up to the Savior’s birth.  My in laws made us adorable advent “rolls” to open each day and I have committed to a scripture copying plan that will take me through Christmas.  I also purchased a digital download of an Advent Devotional (you can check it out here) that I’ll be going through this season.  I want to really focus on the reason for the season this year.  We have so much to be thankful for and sometimes-lots of times- the fact that a baby was born in a manger to save me from a punishment I deserved gets lost in the monotonous “thank you for this day” and “thank you for this baby” prayers. 

So, my goal for the Christmas season is to dwell on the real reason we celebrate Christmas.  My goal is to make more time to do things I love the are good for me like writing, reading my Bible, praying for others, and serving others for heaven’s sake. Next year at this time, Layla will be ready to start learning about the Jesus’ birth and I want to prime the pump this year to begin advent traditions with her.  Hopefully, there will be more to read from me in the next days and weeks as I try to put down the phone and pick up an old habit and remember what’s important is rarely read in a newsfeed.