Which has brought something to my attention: this is the first November that I am not six weeks pregnant (2007), waddling through my last trimester (2006), waiting to see what direction my life would take (2005), moving to another state (2004), or getting the feel of a new city (2003) in a long time. In other words, November normally means something big is about to happen. This year it doesn't. And while it feels weird - funny how stillness requires the same adjustment as transition - it is a relief. It's the first year I've been anywhere two years consecutively in five years (got that?). Stillness is nice.
It's given me the chance to regain some energy and interest in things that used to shape me, like spiritual disciplines and reading new books and serving others. It has also left me incredibly grateful for ordinary life. Every day I kiss Silas's downy little head and pray, "Thank you Lord for this healthy, happy boy." Most of my days have no agenda except digging through the Fun Box and the occasional load of laundry. Would this life mean as much to me if I hadn't spent so many Novembers trying to get here? I can't imagine it would.
Thanks be to God, for November and for being still in it.