Advent Mornings

Looking back on all of the previous Advent seasons of our family, I will say that this, easily, has been one of the busiest. Busier, even, than the 2012, where I was immensely pregnant with Simon and requiring monitoring nearly every other day of the week.

This year, I am not immensely pregnant, only what I would call very pregnant. I had to move my seat at the table because I couldn’t pull my chair near enough to the table to allow people to pass behind without bumping the kitchen counter,  and rolling from my left to my right at night is becoming the kind of Olympic training event that shakes the bed and wakes my husband. But I can still stand near enough the sink to wash dishes without standing parallel to the faucet, and I drove our manual transmission car the other day with no issues. So not immense. I’m only reporting to the OB weekly. At 32 weeks, I will begin going in twice a week. But for now… just weekly. Much more manageable in terms of scheduling life with a family.

Part of the feeling of motion here has been the early mornings. Christopher’s Zoom training schedule has been relentless this week. Much of his international work takes place in the very early hours, which means I lose my quiet time in the dark. It’s funny how much I depend on this slow, solitary window to set a feeling of peace to my day. I come down, set the percolator to boil for my coffee, light two or three candles, and read my Bible by their dim light.  Afterwards, I sip my coffee and pray over my day and my people while knitting before greeting the kids as they wander downstairs, bleary-eyed, with bowls of yogurt or oatmeal and cups of hot cocoa. The house comes to life around me, slowly, and we all move into the rhythm of what the day holds.

Usually.

This week, my night owl husband has risen a half hour before me. Because he is a saint, he has made my coffee for me, and retreats to a quiet space of his own to work. So really, I would not lose my morning of solitude except…

Mary Hannah is working at a nearby Farm and Feed store and leaves at 6:45 a.m. to arrive at opening time. Jack’s job at the Base requires him to report nearly at dawn, as well. So mornings have looked like a delicate ballet of bathroom time, children being awakened by rustlings in the dark much earlier than their norm, and me, grabbing snatches of Scripture as I discuss the day, answer inquiries, and keep little people out of the way of those on a timetable.

It feels, well… busy.

Busier, at least, than I prefer at 6 a.m.

But it’s o.k. It is, as I’ve said, a season.

And while what I want is my sacred little hour alone with Christmas lights and candles, soaking in the story of the nativity and feeling the depth of that holy miracle, God has decreed that what I need is to coordinate who is taking what vehicle, who is responsible for picking up whom when, and reminding small people that others might still be asleep and no, practicing the piano is not an option.

So I am holding my mornings loosely, letting them be what they need to be. I am not mourning the loss of the quiet too much, realizing that in a handful of weeks, I will no longer have work boots staged by my front door each morning, or be watching the level of the water boiling in the kettle to ensure that enough remains to eek out just one more pour over for someone on their way out into the chill. My mornings will be my own again.

Until of course, they aren’t. God willing, in 10 weeks, I will be struggling through the haze of interrupted sleep to rise each morning with a new little one. I will return to the long season of a needy babe in the wee hours, and drinking in whatever bits of silence and Scripture I can grab in between nursing and changing diapers and walking through not just my mornings, but whole days with that precious little body wrapped warm against my chest.

Tolstoy said that true life is lived when tiny changes occur. We are reminded again and again throughout the Bible that everything but God Himself changes. Embracing change can be hard, but in clinging to the One who is steadfast and seeing His hand in all that shifts around us, we can find and feel peace in all things! This is where I am this week. How about you?