Good and Hard; Hard and Good

This holiday season is chalk full of firsts. There have always been traditions, plans, expectations, but now it's just a matter of what Austin and I want to do. We get to rewrite our holiday traditions, and that is simultaneously freeing and terrifying.

When Austin and I were dating, we would ask each other about family traditions: which ones we'd want to keep, and what other ideas we had heard or seen that we might want to add. And at the time it all made sense. Now here we are, our very first Christmas spent together, and we have no clue what we're doing. A large part of that is because of our work schedules and how we only get to spend about 20 hours a week together. But I am not entirely sure why else this is so weird to me. I've known for several years that we were going to have a Christmas together eventually, and now that it's here it just seems so foreign and so right both at the same time.

Maybe it's because we won't be with family.

Maybe because it's just the two of us and we have so little time that starting mew traditions seems silly.

Maybe it's because we're too lazy.

Maybe it's because the reality that this is home for us is just now sinking in, and it feels weird.

And maybe this year is just a "let's figure out Christmas" year, and next year we'll be good about being intentional and starting traditions.

Maybe we HAVE started a tradition at some point and just don't know it yet.

I don't know. But this feels weird. In some ways, it feels wrong or fake. In other ways, seeing our tree in our tree stand, lit with our lights, in our window, from our parking lot hits me right in the middle of the feels every time I wish someone "Merry Christmas". (No joke, several times I've teared up in the grocery store wishing the cashier or a fellow shopper merry Christmas. WHAT SENTIMENTAL WOMAN AM I BECOMING, MOTHER?!?!)

And then there are those tiny whispers of "This isn't a real Christmas. You're not doing it right yet." when I really look at the tree and realize we haven't put a single ornament on it. When we work all day and clean all night and finally fall into bed completely exhausted from what the day has held and haven't read (or even started) an advent book.

Does any of this make me sad? In themselves, no, because I know why each thing is the way it is. But combined, they seem to undo the mirage of Christmas I'm trying so hard to return to.

Christmas will always be my favorite, but my favorite is changing. I like change, but I have to process it. Every aspect of this season has been irrevocably entwined with Austin, and for that I will forever be grateful. But there will always be a small part of me that longs for those childhood Christmases where the spirit of Christmas was almost tangible, and the magic, love, awe, and appreciation unparalleled.

In other news, I have a new job! **

It's humbling.

I've always thought of myself as someone who's pretty much "seen it all" when it comes to what the world has to offer. In the best way possible, of course. I've seen parts of Europe, Africa, Asia, and the Americas. Large parts of most of them. I've seen births, deaths, adoptions, moves, poverty, wealth, sin, sanctification, community, hatred. I've seen cultures, traditions, hurts, and pains. I didn't think I could be much surprised.

I was wrong.

There is more hurt in the world than I ever realized before. I think deep down inside, I believed that because Americans lived so well and the country as a whole was so wealthy, they didn't really know what pain was. Deep, emotional, physical, psychological pain. I'm ashamed to admit it, but it's the truth. So there it is. I believed that while they could understand the concept of those words, they didn't really know what it meant to be terminally scarred from a life experience.

I was wrong.

I was very wrong.

My job is humbling in the best ways possible. It has opened my eyes to the hurt in everyone. It has given me an unforgettable glimpse of the hidden pain that people expertly hide away. It has showed me that I. am. not. enough. It has taught me love, forgiveness, and advocacy on a whole new level. It has taught me more than anything else to look past the failures or difficulties and to first see capabilities and gifts.

It's not an easy job. It's chaotic. It's exhausting. It's personal. It's relational. And it's hard.

AND it's good. It's so very extremely good. Good for my heart, mind, and soul. It stretches me more than probably anything else has before in my life. I'm exposed to so much, and given a split second to decide how to handle it. I'm absorbing so much.

It's good and hard; hard and good. I was wrong, and I'm still learning that.

**Please message me if you want to know more specifics about the new job. I'd be happy to talk about it in more detail one-on-one.**