Sometimes it's just that Time of Year

It's that time of year again... When the leaves are supposed to turn colors, the snow is supposed to start falling, and the fireplaces are supposed to be being lit once more. I say "supposed to" because if you live in Austin, Texas (or someplace similar) the majority of leaves are still green... or dead... And the snow is a foam people use to decorate with. Now fires just may be lit in the fireplaces, but instead of being cozyed up to they are politely admired from across the room.

This will be Nathan's and my third holiday season together, our second with Tucker, and of course our first with Maddie... And hopefully it will be the first we actually decorate for and start our own family traditions... Fingers crossed!

I love traditions, probably my most favorite part of the holiday season growing up was that it was dependable and predictable. It came once a year. Thanksgiving was spent at my Uncle's ranch outside of Bracketville- everyone (with the exception of me and whoever was too young at the time) would go bow hunting. We would also roast marshmallows, eat tons of enchiladas, watch the Thanksgiving day parade, and of course the dreaded anticipated football game of the season (A&M vs. UT), while enjoying the most amazing food ever. Seriously, I am not sure a better Thanksgiving tradition exists... Hence it's hold on my heart as my favorite holiday.

The drive from the ranch back to Colorado would consist of Christmas music... Nonstop Christmas music (which was probably the least looked forward to tradition of the holidays by both my brothers and me), however I have found I have become the initiator of that tradition in our house now... Dancing around every evening the past few days singing songs from Michael Buble's new Christmas album with Tucker -who now recognizes different songs and will even shout "oh boy!" for his favorites- during which times of joy I feel a small pang of guilt for not being equally enthusiastic when my own mom would turn on the festive ensembles when we were growing up...

...And then the Christmas season would get underway. In Colorado that meant chopping down our own tree (always one that resembled a "Charlie Brown Christmas tree"), drinking hot chocolate with extra marshmallows in Santa mugs, and watching Christmas movies while my mom strung cranberries and popcorn to decorate it's weathered boughs.

Christmas Eve we would receive our Christmas pj's and again drink hot chocolate after attending the Christmas Eve service in town at the local Presbyterian church. And on Christmas morning we would come downstairs to find our "Santa" gifts and stockings. We would eat another amazingly delicious meal, and then unwrap presents... Leisurely cherishing the snow covered day.

Now it's time for me to figure out which traditions will be the ones my children grow up with. That's a lot of pressure. It seems impossible not to keep every tradition exactly as it's always been... Except for the fact that we don't really get white Christmases here...

You're Gonna Miss This

Ok, so for my first post on this blog you are going to have to forgive me. For you may just find me repetitive, redundant, and rambling. There is much to say, and I don't really know how to kick this off so... Here it goes...

The Thanksgiving holidays were about a week ago, and everyone knows what that means: pack up the car, strap the kids in their seats, and settle down for a long road trip to see the extended family. And my husband and I did just that. Starting two Saturdays ago we packed up my grandfather's Yukon, clicked our nine-month old's car seat into place, and began the semi-short treck to Austin, TX. (Yeah, I know, it's a great city.) 

I grew up travelling back and forth from Colorado to Texas, and occasionally from Colorado to Florida. I'm used to the roads, and, if I'm honest, I would say I love the road- because that means a nice, long nap- and, generally, a sound asleep baby. It's a chance to take a nice deep breath in, exhale slowly, and just let the stress slip down to the floor-mats. (sigh). 

If you travel to Austin by I-10 to 71, then you will be familiar with the old pumpkin carriage that will be on your right hand side. The airplane up by the fence line with Christmas lights on the propellor, and the Chocolat Chocolat Chocolat log cabin. The road to my husband's parents' house is one of my favorites. I get a kick every time we pass a certain restaurant- because every time we do it's changed its name, and I love the salon with the purple door that will probably never change. 

Travelling to Austin gave me time with my husband, time to laugh with him, admire him, and be thankful for him. It's hard to be thankful sometimes, really hard actually. This should have been our senior year of college. We should be feeling all kinds of sentimental with the thoughts of the previous holiday seasons, and knowing this would be our last before we entered the "real world." But, in June of 2009, our plans changed. It's funny how one little plastic stick, and one little word can set the universe spinning. 

That was a hard time, for both my husband and I. We kept the news to ourselves for about a week, trying to decide what to do. Pro-Choice suddenly seemed to appeal to me, it didn't sound like such a bad idea. I would be able to keep on the path I had set for myself, and my then-boyfriend now-husband would be able to live his dream as well. The more I thought about actually taking that choice into my own hands, however, I began to realize that it wasn't for me to decide. I had made the decision already, I chose to be in a physical relationship while being fully aware of what the result might be. 

It's still hard. And a lot of people say things like, "I wouldn't trade one minute of it," but I honestly don't know if I can say that, because it truly is difficult. It's complete surrender of the self, which isn't easy, and it's not something I can just do once- I have to choose to do it on a daily basis. And a lot of times I don't- I live in the day or week, just completely depressed by the fact that I am not able to live out my plan for my self. 

And then I see my son smile, or laugh, or make a funny noise, and suddenly I am thankful for my plan not working out. I know that God will use my son's life to make an impact for His Kingdom, and ultimately, (though I may never fully understand His plan), His plan for me is best. So my life isn't the life I planned, but may I be so bold as to say that the best moments of my life are the ones that have been unPlanned? 

It's true, think about it. The greatest things that happen in life, at least for me, are the things that I didn't plan on. And, yes, generally they are also the hardest things that happen. But I like to look back to the past, and when I do the times that I recall, and the instances that I reminisce most are those that, at that point in time, were some of the most difficult things that I went through. 

So, looking forward, I look forward to looking back at this time in my life, and saying, "Wasn't this a great time? I miss that..." I just hope that when I am able to look back at this time of my life, I won't regret missing out on one single thing. 

It's hard to die to self, and live for Christ. It's hard to give thanks in EVERYTHING. It is, trust me, I know, because I am so not thankful in everything.... But I need to be. 

Let me encourage you. In this time of your life, whatever time that it is for you, to live it. Don't take choices into your own hands that aren't yours to take, but rather see the unplanned forks in your road as a better alternative than what you had planned for yourself. Trust that what is unplanned to you, isn't to Him. He's got you, it's ok.