Thanksgiving week is here and I am so glad. The past two holiday seasons have been fairly hectic for us and this year, so far, it feels blessedly languid. Of course that is largely due to my limited mobility I am sure. I went to the doctor today and found out that I have been a little over zealous in my quest to "get back to normal." Two more weeks of crutches for me. I cannot even put a bow on this news. It was pretty disheartening.
Because I cannot do a lot of moving around and getting up and down, I am trying to find activities that I can do while sitting. During this holiday break I am trying to find crafts, recipes, and family activities that are easy enough for the kids to play a vital role in helping with. Essentially they have to be my feet. This is hard at times on all of us, but I am proud of my boys and their willingness to help me no matter the task.
Yesterday Wylie and I made this simple Thankful mobile. I drew and cut out the leaves, attached the yarn, spools and pom poms (some of which were made by Miles.) Wylie wrote out what we were all most thankful for- our home, our pets, our family, our faith, our friends and our food. I love that he included the food. That just made me smile.
We attached it all to a twig from the yard and hung it in the breakfast nook. A good reminder of what we are celebrating this week - and the place we should always live from - to see first thing in the morning.
Because I have pretty much been house bound since Thursday, with a few short excursion to dinner or the Dollar Tree, I asked Sweet Man to take us all on a drive this afternoon. I wanted some fresh air and a new view. We drove through the country, down towards the delta where the land is low and wide. Here and there were tree lined portions of the highway. Beautiful hundred year oak trees in an assortment of autumn hues created a canopy over our car. Miles kept pointing to empty fields, saying how each spot was perfect to build our farm and my heart broke all over again.
Have patience I told him. Have patience. One day baby, one day.
I am saying it for him, but I mean it for me.
Most days this is enough. This little urban cottage life. The sun shines through my kitchen window, and I think "this is it. This is what is best." And other times- fewer and fewer times- my chest hurts from the weight of longing to be there. To go. To try our hand at wide open spaces.
It is hard to even write about because I do not want to seem ungrateful or as if I am pining for something beyond my grasp, stuck in the muck of selfish desire. But maybe I am. Hard to tell, this close to the emotion. After all we have a home, a roof, beds, a yard, and indoor plumbing and I am longing for a different home, roof and yard.
I think the truth is this: I am thankful and happy with this life here on Ridge Road and there is still part of my heart in the country, a little part that holds on to a hope for that life someday. I don't know why, but there it is regardless.
Only time can tell -or heal- the outcome.
So here I am Reacquainting myself with life where I am, using what I have, making do and mending little bits at a time, giving thanks everyday for the blessings and the lessons in staying put, one day (and currently one foot!) at a time.
As I enter this new season of staying-put I wonder if Ann Voskamp had it right when she wrote that “...life change comes when we receive life with thanks and ask for nothing to change.”
I cannot help but wonder if I give thanks with the idea that I will be blessed and things will change because of my words? Do I offer my thanksgiving with strings attached?
Maybe that will be the instruction for how I enter Advent and Christmastide. Maybe I should practice receiving life with thanks and asking for nothing to change. Giving thanks where I am, as I am, with no strings attached.
Now wouldn't that be a challenge?