Counting My Blessings

Watching White Christmas on Thanksgiving night is becoming a tradition in my family. It seems like once the turkey is eaten, and everyone has had second helpings of pumpkin pie, we allow ourselves to dream of Christmas to come. And White Christmas is a perfect way to do it! I don't intend for this post to be a movie review, but I have to say, this film has meant a lot to me. This classic has drama, romance, incredible music and dancing, and an overall "feel-good" story. I love watching it with my Grandma especially, because she relates to the era in a way the rest of us can't. Each song creates a mood in me: bouncy and happy, contemplative, or just beaming with a big smile.

The song "Counting Your Blessings" had special meaning to me today. Thinking about leaving New Hampshire tomorrow night leaves me feeling sleepless and worried. And the simple lyrics and beautiful tune are like a soothing lullaby.

When I'm worried and I can't sleep,
I count my blessing instead of sheep,
And I fall asleep, counting my blessings.

When my bankroll is gettin' small,
I think of when I had none at all,
And I fall asleep, counting my blessings.

This Christmas, I can't give all the gifts I wish I could. We don't have the "bankroll" for a fancy Christmas party or tickets to a holiday show. But I feel so blessed for what we have this season: a chance to visit with both our families on special holidays, a new home to move into in a few weeks, and a husband with whom I get to share our first Christmas together!

I'll count these blessings, and so many others, tonight and whenever I feel that ache of sleeplessness, worry, or homesickness. Happy Thanksgiving!

Giving Thanks in All Things

I'm not alone in thinking that the best Christmas season starts with celebrating Thanksgiving. Hollywood concurs! While many Christmas movies start with a Thanksgiving feast, my favorite example is Miracle on 34th Street. It always made me feel like I was there, experiencing New York City on a bright sunny Thanksgiving morning, watching the parade from Mr. Gailey's window. The magic of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade has always been a highlight of my family's Thanksgiving. The festive music, lively performances, and colorful floats and balloons were always in the background of our meal preparations. It added to the excitement of the morning, anticipating the feast to come.

I'm a huge fan of Christmas. And no, I don't think it's wrong to listen to Christmas music before Thanksgiving. Like I said, Thanksgiving is a key part of the Christmas season in my eyes. It's the first family gathering, the first party, of hopefully a long string of "happy meetings when friends come to call!" Thanksgiving prepares our hearts with gratitude for the greatest gift of all--the coming of Christ Jesus. Maybe that's why I love Christmas so much: It reminds me of the joy and peace that can only be fulfilled with Christ's coming into my heart. And it helps me look forward to His second coming. That's a reason to celebrate both holidays with gusto!

And celebrate we will! Hubby and I are on our way home to New Hampshire today. There's a mix of stress and excitement as we prepare to go. That adult side of our brains keeps nagging, "Did you pay all the bills? Is all the trash taken out? Did you finish the dishes? Are the boarding passes printed? Did you pack enough warm layers?" We scramble to answer, wearing ourselves out in the process.We think of the red-eye flight, the few precious moments of sleep that must carry us through the following day. And I'm thankful for ALL of it, because those adult naggings are what help us stay on track, and take care of ourselves and this home we've been blessed with.

At the same time, the childlike side of our brains keep squealing, "You get to see family! You get to see friends! You may even get to see snow! There will be wonderful food to share and songs to sing. You can relax, laugh, play! You will give and get hugs! You will savor the moments, giving thanks to God because He's given this to you! The holidays are a gift, for you! For everyone!" Thoughts like that make me want to just hug that side of my brain, scoop it up and cover it with kisses, because it's so precious. It helps balance the weight of responsibility with joy in the journey. Thank you, Lord, for bringing me safe into adulthood and for keeping alive that childlike wonder and awe of You, and all You give.

Do you know that feeling? You're heading home. And it feels like your heart might sprout wings, returning to what you know. Isn't that what it feels like to think of Heaven? Everything I thought was familiar will pale in comparison to the fulfillment of being with my God. That will be the best homecoming of all! And all these beautiful, excitement-filled reunions are but shadows of the joy to come.

The Huntress

I've been on the hunt a long time. In the past year alone, I've hunted for...

• the perfect wedding location, dress, decorations, etc.
• the furniture items our apartment lacked (mostly on craigslist)
• a church to call home
• a job
• the best deals on groceries
• and lately, a house!

Mostly, the search is thrilling. But after many disappointments, and even some triumphs, it can drain you. I admit, I've thrown in the towel far too many times these past few months, consoled myself with a self-appointed break from the hunt. But that only made me more restless. 

Then I realized that TRUST is the only true salve for the burns of worry and anxiety, the only thing that gives you joy in the hunt, and peace because you have the Master with you at all times. I was reminded to trust God with the details, and as a result...

• our wedding was a joyful and blessed event
• our apartment has everything we need, and then some!
• we became members and fellow servants of Christ at a wonderful church
• I got an editorial internship with a Seattle book publisher, and a few potential freelance job leads
• we have plenty of food to eat and share, our pantry and fridge are always full
• we have had a smooth house hunt, and possibly an accepted offer!

Don't be fooled; I didn't have one single moment of trust and all these things just fell into place overnight! It's a daily struggle with my sinful self, that part of me that finds worrying easier than action, that believes the evil one's lies that I am inadequate and incapable. I've found the desperate need to lean on His Holy Spirit to fill, uphold, and guide me. I falter...often, unfortunately...in this trust. But if I'm open to Him, God uses His Word and His children to speak affirmation and reminders to me.  

This happened recently through a book I read ("No way! She read a book? That's so unlike her!" *wink*). Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts talks about her own journey of building a habit of giving thanks for everything, the good things that are easily viewed as blessings, as well as those difficult things in life she refers to as "hard graces." And it's more than just a habit. It's an emptying of expectations, self, your anxieties, and fruitless striving, to be filled with His joy, with true thankfulness for His grace, so we can better trust and glorify Him. There were so many "quotables" I found in her book, things that resonated with me or pointed to scriptures I knew, but of whose weight I'd forgotten. But here's just one that speaks of the hunt:

This is what I crave; I hunger for Beauty. Is that why I must keep up the hunt? When I cease the beauty hunt, is that why I begin to starve, waste away?.... How I want to see the weight of glory break my thick scales, the weight of glory smash the chains of desperate materialism, split the numbing shell of deadening entertainment, bust up the ice of catatonic hearts.... I want to remember how badly I really want to see. ~Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

There have been many times when I give up the hunt, and I feel that nagging ache of sorrow and hunger. And unless I realize it's a hunger for more of God, Beauty Himself, I keep despairing, and worrying. If I acknowledge that the hunt is really about seeking Him and His will, there is joy in it, and I trust. He brings an end to my little "earthly hunts," like the job or house search, and spurs me on in the "heavenly hunt"--the seeking after Him and His Beauty, sharing the blessings, and being the blessing to others.

From the restless searching in my youth for adventures and wonders (through books, movies, music, art, and imagination), to my more mature search for more of God's beauty, in the ordinary and extraordinary places, the outside world I've only begun to explore--I'm a lifelong huntress. So, as my newlywed life unfolds, and I learn more about who I am and who God wants me to be, I find I am meant to be a lifelong huntress, so long as I'm hunting for Him in all places, things, and circumstances.

Smells Like Dating

My parents, aunt, and grandma came to visit a few weeks ago. When I took them to Pike Place Market, Mom and Dad bought us a lovely bouquet, with pink lilies. The aroma was so strong (and no Dad, I'm not talking about your deodorant *wink*), and reminded me of the bouquet my husband (then boyfriend) brought me at the airport during one of my visits. That's why when I took a big whiff of the bouquet, I told them, "Smells like...dating!"

And the funny thing is, they understand that, because they were the ones waiting back in NH when I came out to see my love and his family. Now they're the ones coming out to see me, and they still brought us flowers. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

I loved showing them as much of my new world as possible, and seeing some new things even my husband & I had never seen! It was a blissful week, full of the loving understanding, hugs, and humor of my family. I miss that daily. I could go on about how wonderful their visit was. I filled up a hefty chunk of my journal with the tale. But I'll spare you the details. Suffice it to say, we made a plethora of memories, enjoyed pristine weather, and drank in the sweetness of togetherness. In fact, it was too sweet! When they left, I had a hard time moving on.

I saw the spot on the couch where Gramma sat, with her feet propped up after a long day of sightseeing, or my aunt's chair at the table, with the deflating balloon we had to celebrate her birthday. There were the "housewarming gifts" Momma showered us with, and the now bare desk where Dad worked a little on his computer. In a way, their presence here haunted me...in a completely non-scary way. There were signs of them everywhere, and I missed that strange comfort of a full house. My hubby was at work, as usual, and I had my list of laundry, dishes, and job applications to get through. But it was just too much. I needed to grieve.

The day before they left, my husband told me how he was looking forward to coming home to all of us. He too understood this strange love of "invaded space." Dad kept saying how we'd love having our own space back, but the truth is, we both felt the loss. It wasn't an inconvenience. It was such a JOY to share this place with them.

And as I walk around the apartment, now that they've been here, I feel like it's more complete. They've left their fingerprints and now it's a true home. It feels like there's a part of them here now. For months I've struggled with my east-coast family not having seen where we've begun and share our married life. Now they've been here, and in spite of the pain of their leaving, it gave me a peace about this place.

The Pike Place flowers have since dried out, a few pressed for safe-keeping in my journal. The beds have been put away, and the extra towels in the bathroom have been taken down. I finished the last of Dad's left over soy milk in the fridge, and we have returned to long, long-distance phone conversations. But there are still things that trigger a memory, either of our vacation week or my old life back east. They're bittersweet.

And now, I think the next time my husband brings home Pike Place flowers, the ones with pink lilies, I'll think it smells like dating and family. They'll mean that much more to me.

Another Letter of Interest

Dear World,
After months of writing letters of interest, polishing my resume, scouring the web for job postings, I decided it was time to address one of these desperate epistles to you. I have searched through every job search engine known to man, and even some of those less known. I thought you should know, all of them have offered me nothing but the following discouragement: "0 results found" or "2 jobs matching your search criteria" (which turn out to be located in a completely different city or state, or not at all related to my skill set.) Could you do something about that? Maybe send me a list of "perfect jobs for YOU" to my doorstep? That'd be nice. Thanks.

To my alma mater's career services center, I just want to say I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I let you down. Even with those resume seminars, consults, and mock interviews, I couldn't seem to grab the interest of any potential employers. I'm sorry I didn't actually follow your neatly organized "Four Year Plan" packet. This is partly due to the fact I didn't receive one until senior year, and mostly because I didn't go searching for them in your handy little resource library. I'm sorry I didn't take you up on your plethora of internship and job options (plethora, that is, within the glorious state of Pennsylvania). On a positive note, I did have an internship, granted it was after I graduated, in my home state, and offered me because of a friend's recommendation. No, it wasn't paid, and it didn't lead to employment opportunities within the company. In fact, I've even had one interviewer tell me my time there was nil in terms of "experience." I know it's not what you'd hoped for me, but I enjoyed it. Too bad I no longer live on the east-coast and couldn't use any of that networking you emphasized so often. Oh well. You'll have plenty of other model students to send you their success stories and boost the college's ratings.

Now to all of the employers in the Seattle area (and beyond) that have received my letters, resumes, and recommendations: I hope you don't mind the inconvenience of actually reading what I sent you. I know, two pages is a lot to fit into your busy schedule. And I wouldn't dream of asking for a short email or written reply letting me know you don't want/need me. Forget phone calls--we both know those are just awkward. Oh, and if you do decide you're interested, can you please not call for a telephone interview when I'm in my pajamas and folding laundry? It's hard to think in professional terms when you've got your husband's socks sticking to your pants (that darn static cling). Like I said in my letter, I don't mind coming in for an in-person interview. Really! In fact, I think you might find me quite charming in my hardly-ever-worn business suits that my grandmother custom altered for me. I could send you a snapshot instead, if you prefer.

In closing, World, I feel like we've had some sort of misunderstanding between us that I'd like to clear up. You see, when you work hard for 18 years of your academic career, get good grades, and achieve highest honors when you finally graduate, it's kind of normal to feel like you've got a chance. You with me? I don't think I'm asking too much--just a nice M-F 8am-5pm job, perhaps with a desk (no screaming children or cash registers please), and a little bit of income. Please no more crystal-ball reading, long-haired, aged hippies who tell me I have no future in publishing, but offer an unpaid position a few days later. That wasn't fun. I'll even take one of those cubicles I hear so much about! I like working in a box! What do you think? Can we work something out? I'm sure we'll both benefit from the result. Have I mentioned I'm a hard-worker?

Anyway, I have more fruitless searches to do, so I'll let you get back to laughing at my feeble attempts. As always, I am available for an interview at your convenience. You will find my contact information at the top of this letter. Please leave a message if I am not in, and I will promptly return your call. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,
Me

Divenire

Half a year ago, I became a Mrs. I can't believe we're already half-way through "our first year," which most claim to be the hardest year of marriage. I can see that, but I also see how joyful and incredible it can be.With all the adventures, high and low points, failures and triumphs, I still find myself awed into silence when I consider this man who is my husband. He is patient, kind, fun-loving, adventurous, strong, and insightful. No matter how many times I break down into tears over homesickness, or lose my temper over something gone wrong, he is ever faithful in holding me, loving me, and reminding me, "I didn't just marry the happy you."

On our wedding day, I walked down the aisle to "Divenire" by Ludovico Einaudi not only because I LOVE the beauty and majestic swell of this song, but because of the very title: Divenire means Becoming. On that day, I was becoming a wife. I was becoming one with the love of my life. I was leaving behind my old life and my maiden name in order to become something new.

Six months later, I find myself still very much moved by this song. Not only does it remind me of that most sacred day of my life, but also who I am becoming. I'm realizing that "becoming a west-coast woman" means more than figuring out all the nuances of "Seattlite living" (which route to take to avoid tolls, which grocery store has the cheapest produce, how to navigate the bus system, where to find great coffee). It's an adjustment to the rainy winters and springs. It's learning to see the sunshine in my husband, when the days seem too grey. Many times, I've referred to my husband as a moon, reflecting the Son.  I want to become more like him, like Jesus Christ, whom he reflects.

I have so much more to learn. And there are days when I feel so overwhelmed by this reality. Becoming someone's wife and a member of the independent, adult world is difficult. The challenges arise from day to day--sometimes as small as deciding what to make for dinner, other times as big as dealing with personality differences. But do you know what I hear in the refrain of Einaudi's song? Grow. Burgeon. Learn. Change. Become who God created you to be. That's why I chose it for my bridal procession.

We're weaving together the separate threads of our lives. It's a process. Difficult, yes. But full of blessing. My husband takes me as I am, "in laughter and tears," as we vowed. But for him, I want to become better, more the woman God wants me to be, the best Christlike wife I can be. My new motto, on this half-year anniversary: Ogni giorno, divenire. (Every day, become.)

Go Figure

I'm having one of those days where I realize, too late, that I've missed so many prime opportunities. This morning I found the perfect song for our winter wedding that I should have used sometime in the day. I turned down a perfectly good job offer that I should have taken, because now I can't get another anywhere else. I had this brilliant entrepreneur idea that would utilize my talents, skills, and passions all in one, only to find someone else had the idea first. And they implemented it so well that I don't think I can make my service/product any better or different. If only I'd had this idea two years ago, I would have been the only person (at least in what is available online) to be offering a similar product. I should have been more proactive in my ideas and job search.

But, as my Dad so wisely reminds me, "Don't should on yourself!" Thank you, Dad. It's just so disheartening to find out, too late, something that could have changed your life has passed you by. Well, on a positive note, I'm glad I seized the opportunity to go to a college in Pennsylvania, to meet my Washingtonian husband there, and to enter a long-distance relationship even though it's a tough thing. But I give God the credit for those "opportunities." They were very well orchestrated by the Master. And I know He has all of these disappointed hopes under control. I'm just learning how to take the seesaw ride of thinking you've found your purpose/goal/right thing only to find you were wrong. Mind you, that's after you've wasted hours, perhaps even days (or in my case, weeks and months) thinking about and preparing to take the leap. Go figure!