Autumn usually turns out to be the antithesis of the imaginary quintessential autumn in my head. In my mind, autumn is slower, cozy, bundled in plaid, filled with extra blankets, time around a fireplace, and afternoons of leisured reading that lull into naps. Why do I have this disillusioned idea?
I have yet to have a day like this ever. Much less in autumn. I have never used my fireplace, and while I own way too much plaid, it is still hot as hell here in Texas. My October days have become a frenzy of papers to grade, meetings to attend, social obligations, and haphazardly planned meals (or lack of meals). Our anticipation of the metaphorical warm and fuzzy season quickly dissolves under the obligations and rush of the quickly approaching holidays. And yet, this morning on my walk, the air had snapped and more leaves had fallen across my usual path. In spite of the chaos I cannot push back, I can't help but question why do I feel like I instinctively yearn for autumn to be a time of rest? It is not a calm, tranquil time. Our circumstances don't lead us to a slower pace. Yet, I realize, do I need my circumstances to construct a pace for me to be tranquil? This past month has been crazy, yes, but I have also had moments of paused, encapsulated authentic conversations with people. I have (in my rush) seen glimpses of ways to show patience towards people. I've started to plan for the holidays and instead of anxiety over details, I feel gratitude, not for the activities, but for the people I know I will get to see in the next few months. As I hunch over stacks of essays, I feel a bittersweet pride in my students, thankful to teach them another year but saddened by the fact that 1/4th of my time with them has passed. What is truly more reviving-- my concept of a fireplace and flannel blankets or the gratitude I can choose to have for the people in my life during this season? We might be increasingly busy in the next few months and we might not get that afternoon nap by a warm, cozy fireplace. But can we still rest and be grateful? I think I can.
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Whew. It's been a long time since I posted anything. Any updates or any adoption news.
And this isn't because I haven't wanted to or because things haven't been happening. They have. When decisions like this are held in the balance by life, writing about the turmoil and unknown in the midst of turmoil and unknown can prove challenging. Even impossible. I kept delaying a post because I kept waiting for a definitive answer. Finally, I came to a point where I accepted that for now, the unknown is not yet ready to be unknown. Should I share that? Should I share that I am really ok with the fact that I am at peace with no answer? To summarize the past five months: Tom and I reached the home study phase of adoption. As we delved into studying what would happen in that stage, we realized that if at any point during the adoption process we moved homes, we would have to repay a portion of our adoption fee (read: thousands of dollars). Currently, we live in a cozy townhome with two bedrooms-- perfect for us. But what if we are matched with a family of three siblings? Or two older children of opposite gender? We would have to move. For the past five months we have wrestled with this question: "What will happen next? What is the next step?" Are we going to move? If so, should we wait on adoption? Should we move now (and by default, use money that could have been put towards adoption)? Do we even want to move now? This morning, I ran through a plethora of possibilities for what the next year of my and Tom's life might look like. When I was about to graduate from college, I remember thinking that the exhilarating unknown of possibilities was likely a temporary circumstance of my specific time in life; eventually, I would get married, settle down, and have children. The unknowns of the current time were embraced because I assumed eventually possibilities would be replaced by certainties. But here I am almost a decade later, enthralled with the fact that I don't know what is going to happen. There's is nothing settled about the Novcove life. Nothing settled or settled down. While we wait for the next step, the next answer, we have peace in the unknown circumstances because we rest in a known Creator. |
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