Making change

"For everything there is a season.." 

[Old photo, new adventure]

This season I've meditated a lot on Mary's life and calling, considering our similarities at Christmas- being pregnant and doing a lot of traveling (no full-term donkey rides for me...). It was the waiting with eager expectation that made me think of her, accompanied by the human tendency to fear the unknown. And then my thoughts turned to Jesus and how this eagerness and fear gives me a better insight into his coming to earth. In pregnancy there's an umbrella of impending pain that's always in my peripheral. I can usually focus on other things acutely enough that I don't see it..but when I lose focus, there's the umbrella...the thought of labor, delivery, and the aftermath of those things. There are thoughts of sleepless nights and the possibility of postpartum depression. There's the fear of something happening to this precious little helpless person. When Jesus came to earth, his umbrella of impending pain was unfathomable. At first glance, knowing that he came as a sacrifice for our insufficiency, it seems like his death would be the beauty of his coming. But the journey itself was beautiful, with redemption coming to some even before the cross. He taught and loved and forgave and healed, all the while knowing what the future held. Jesus was able to be in the moment, with the people he loved. There was pain and sorrow along the way, but that didn't prevent him from meaningful relationships or joy-filled reunions or hilarious analogies.

I was so moved by this quote the other day:

"Joy and sadness can walk hand in hand, one doesn't need to bow to the other." Annie F. Downs

I love Minnesota. The distinct four seasons and the unpredictability within those seasons (the identity crisis when spring thinks it's winter...or summer thinks it's winter) are such a delight. So why is it so difficult for me to accept that life also has seasons? We're coming to the end of our home school journey- the 3 oldest start public school January 27th, Winnie will finish out kindergarten at home- and I have cried more tears over this decision than probably anything. We Toftnesses typically roll with change, rather than making change. Sure, we have lofty ideas of adventure and the hunger to shake things up...but we always end up choosing the familiar over the unknown. When we decided to choose this public school adventure, a myriad of emotions came in a flood. I felt like I was walking through a mental deluge for weeks. But through a lot of learning and praying and seeking, the co-mingled emotions are becoming less intimidating. I can be grateful for our experience with the extraordinary families we've grown close to through our co-op, and yet mourn the passing of this chapter. I can be happy for what's to come, and sad for what's being left behind. These last few weeks were like the gestation of the idea- I stared hard at the impending umbrella of labor...when I actually drop my kids off at school and say goodbye for the day. I've been home with a child or children since Oliver was born 1.31.07...like literally HOME WITH THEM. And yet, because of the Advent meditation God pressed on my heart, I can look at Mary, Joseph, Jesus, other saints, and know that joy and sadness can work together to draw me closer to Him. Can you even imagine the emotional roller coaster that Mary went through knowing she was carrying the Messiah and raising him to let him go? Or the human part of Jesus that didn't want the pain that was guaranteed if he was going to fulfill his calling? My current umbrella is made of gold compared to the shadow that they were under and the daunting tasks that such a great cloud of witnesses were asked to be active in. What's your umbrella?


P.S. There are many factors that went into this life-style change. If you're interested in all the reasons, stick around. I *might* write a post about it. ;)