Slowing down and thinking about the Advent season, leading directly into the celebration of a most wondrous birth….that of our Christ child. I am grateful for this season. It doesn’t hurt the way it used to, Christmas is painful, but not the same sort of pain I am comfortable with. This year it is pain like labor, that of being stretched to the outer most comfort zone of myself, and not the pain of past hurts and grief, though that does show it self at times, usually when least expected.

I am grateful for the pain I am feeling this year, the pain of giving into the long quiet before a birth of new ideas, new lifestyles, new hope, new convictions, new habits in a New Year. Labor is painful, in my experience it has pushed me to go to my soul, deep in my spirit, to the inmost of my being, to the Spirit of God with a silent crying out to God…I have liked quiet in my labor. This labor of my spirit hasn’t been much different, I have wanted to sink inside, to stay in my cozy clothes, read about the quiet things in life, meditate on the word and deal with the pain without words or audible groaning, but groaning there has been. I have groaned that I am not comfortable with who I am anymore, that I need more, that I wanna stretch and walk, I need to sing and draw. I am aching for good art, sweet music, peace that passes understanding and space to figure out all that God wants me to be. I am embracing children more tightly, while letting the loose at a speed that leaves me dizzy with confusion and question. My heart aches out for the child that Iwas, while my spirit reaches out to the woman I am finally becoming, I am both comfortable and most uncomfortable…..full of anticipation, laboring over my life. It isn’t a burden or a heavy yolk, I know that this is from my Father, in this I find sincere comfort during the most uncomfortable pains, I know that God is producing in me a woman by His design, that will be born, that is being born out of this story, His story in me. I am drawn to the idea that Christ, the babe was born after a labor, on the back of a donkey, in a stinky stable…..to hang on a cross for the sins of the world. I am only being asked to become a new creation, to be available to the work in my spirit that a Godly woman would be born out into this world, making the Father proud. I will labor with gratitude.

Sometimes I have no doubt that others question the sanity of many decisions made for our family. That is perfectly fine with me. I am coming to the final thought more everyday, that the only opinions that matter when I lay my head down to sleep are my Lord’s opinion and my husband’s opinion. It isn’t so much that I don’t value the thoughts of others or consider the ideas of the masses, but that being said, I only hang my hat on the peace I find when I know that we have done what we are called to do.
This past week with the support of our surgeon 5 of our 6 sweet darlings had tonsillectomies. Many folks,nay sayers even, chose to be a bit discouraging. We heard everything from “I only did it with one and it was horrible,” to “are you sure about this?” We were sure of what we did and am grateful that over the years we have become very practiced at ignoring the masses and listening instead to wisdom of some who know more than us, praying and leaning on the support of equally passionate people who love us. I likened doing the surgeries separately to pulling labor out for 10 weeks and frankly I didn’t find much wisdom in that.
We even encountered one nurse who made her opinion known, I was gently reminded that she didn’t have to come home with us, to just move on.
Facing opinions head on has become part of who we are as a family. Every time we all pile out of our 12 passenger church bus we have eager eyes, full of question, some who are brave enough to speak and others only speculate.
People offer up opinion long before they know us, depending on what side of the box some sit, we hear varying pre-conceptions.