Thanksgiving is by far my favorite holiday. I love the reminder the month brings of being thankful and really find it at the front of my mind. Thanksgiving in my family was always about spending time with family and friends, not football or shopping. My mom always, and still does, welcome anyone who doesn't have a place to go into our home. Our Thanksgiving always means having new people to meet and the possibility of having anywhere from a few to many many people. It's the holiday for true hospitality, being happy to share what God has blessed us with to whomever wants to join. I've grown up seeing that excluding others is really missing the point of the First Thanksgiving, and really isn't showing true thankfulness for what God has blessed us with. So in our home you typically won't hear, "Our family only" or "This is just close friends." For as much as my mom doesn't enjoy having to try to figure out if she's having over 8 people or 15 the night before she cooks everything, there always is an open door at the Harper house. This is how I want my kids to see Thanksgiving. I want them to see the month of November as a month of reflection. A month to give God the glory, to be thankful, generous, and selfless. I want to challenge them, just as my mom did us, to be thankful for more than just home, family, and friends. While we should be thankful for all of these, they are easy things to be thankful for. They are those things you don't have to put much thinking into or to really search your heart and see all those tiny overlooked blessings God has given you throughout the year. Family, pets, friends, food, home all make a kindergartener's thankful turkey. My mom always wanted to push up to mature in our thankfulness and not just stay on the more superficial basics. To actually see what makes your heart ache with gratitude, you have to spend some time in thought, something I unfortunately only do in November and would benefit from doing it more. Last week I posted the below post on Instagram. The superficial level of thankfulness (although not any less important) is the blessing of this baby. I prayed to be pregnant again by November, not thinking I could face the month my last baby was due without another on the way, and God graciously answered. However, the deeper level of thankfulness, the one that makes my heart ache, bringing me to my knees before God, is the peace he's given me through this pregnancy. God has not promised me this pregnancy will go any differently than the last. There is no promise I won't lose this baby. There is no promise that it will be healthy, or that there will be no complications. No matter how much faith I have that these things won't happen, doesn't guarantee they won't, but God promises he will never leave me. He will be with me through the good times and the bad, just as he already has. After a miscarriage I expected extreme amounts of anxiety. I didn't know how I could go through pregnancy again "normally." The emotions this time are much harder, there is definitely a helpless uncertainty, realizing there is no promise things will go how I want, yet in it all I have peace. There is no crippling anxiety, but I'm ok with letting things fall in God's hands. I still can't go to an appointment alone. I have nightmares the week leading up. Thoughts of my last delivery put me into a panic attack and I truly cannot handle thinking about it, yet at the same time I have peace with God. A peace that I cannot explain. A peace that isn't blind, but clearly seeing the facts, knowing there is no promise of getting it all my way, yet accepting to believe God is good. A peace that almost scares me to admit exists, in fear I'll destroy it somehow. A peace that isn't of me or anything I have done on my own. It's an answer to prayer. A proof of the existence of God in my life. A peace somehow being able to exist while I still have those fears, those desires for it all to be ok. A peace that exists with normal fears, but frees me of the control of anxiety. I am not controlled by anxiety as I expected, obsessing over doing everything in my power to make it all ok. I know I can do nothing. I have no promises of the outcome, but I have the promise that God has it in control. God sees it all. God loves me and my family. God knows what is best for me and my family. He is love. He is The Creator, all-knowing, all-powerful, compassionate, forgiving, the perfect judge, my defender, my comforter, and will never leave me. The reality is, even with the pregnancy all going well, I could and should still be a disaster. I couldn't enjoy the blessing of the new baby without the even greater blessing of God's peace. Without Him I couldn't make it though this pregnancy. My last one I was doing EVERYTHING right. I was eating healthy, on my vitamins, no stress, no anxiety, working out, getting sleep, none of which was true with my pregnancy with Danny. With everything I was doing I should've been golden with the last one, and I lost the baby at 9 weeks. Why? I don't know. And I won't know. But what I had to understand and accept is it is all out of my control. I am not growing the baby, God is. I can obsess and try to control it, doing everything in my power to be as healthy as possible, but it promises nothing, and empty promises are never good to stand on. After extreme anxiety with my first pregnancy, still constantly battling pain from the complications, then losing my second pregnancy, somehow I have the more peace now with my third one than I did with any of the others. That doesn't and shouldn't make sense. It is only from God and I praise him for it.
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Halloween was always one of those things I was excited for as a kid. I loved dressing up in costumes, getting glow sticks, and carving pumpkins. We had a lot of friends growing up who didn't participate in it and everyone was always surprised my family did. My parents were known to be more conservative on a lot of issues, but we were the Christian family that did participate in Halloween. My parents felt there was a way we could have fun without welcoming all the death and creepiness in our home, and when do you ever have so many neighbors knocking on your door and out and about socializing. As kids we had conversations with friends about why we couldn't be certain things, giving us the opportunity to share our faith. We've taken the same approach with baby and he's following the same rules about how to celebrate. 1. No gross, death, or evil promoting costumes. It's pretty much open game on costumes as long as it doesn't fall in the above categories. This means no witches, demons, goblins, etc. in our home. My child is extra sensitive to the the creepy stuff, and I was the same way, so I definitely feel for him. Personally, I wish others would take into account the children that are more sensitive to scary things and save those outfits for times other than trick-or-treat. 2. You have to actually dress up for it to count. A soccer jersey over jeans doesn't make the cut. My mom always encouraged us to have fun and not allow insecurity to make our lives boring and I'm so thankful she did. You've got to know how to have fun in life and not be a drip about everything. There are plenty of ways to make cheap costumes that are still creative and fun. Most of the time, kids don't do anything because they're lazy and/or want to be cool. Let's face it, my kids are going to be homeschooled, so they better give up on being cool now and just learn to have fun. So as you can imagine, when baby refused to dress up this year I was bummed. Originally he said he wanted to be a moo moo cow like last year, but once he saw the udders it was all over. I was no way letting him get away with the OSU jersey over pants, no matter how easy it was so if he was participating this year he had to be something. Danny didn't quite get it, but I said if we start that now what is he going to do when he's 10. My brother was always particular about dressing up and every year managed to find something he liked, so I was willing to work with baby on his costume. I suggested a chicken, chipmunk, skunk, trash man, fisherman, horse, and several other things. After getting all rejections, finally in frustration I said, "Well what do you want to be?!," not expecting any suggestions. Well, Mr. Independent looked right at me and quickly responded, "Hay, fluffy hay." I didn't believe he'd do it but Danny said why not give it a try. He got a pampers box, painted it yellow, and used a rope and baling wire to hold some loose hay around the box, and attached his suspenders to it, costing a whole $4. Much to my surprise, that little stinker wore it proudly, especially when he discovered he got treats. At first he wasn't getting the concept because we kept saying candy, but once we called them treats he was all on board. (Amazing what a word swap and do!) He did trunk or treat until he got scared of the other costumes and wanted to go home. On Halloween he rode in the wagon while my dad pulled him right up to the door. He'd then hop out, put on his costume, say "Treats Please," and climb back in, telling my dad to "back up.". We made it to five houses and then turned around, but he got some Snickers and a tub of blue Playdoh so he was happy. Passing out candy at home made for some great sharing practice anyway. He still seemed to enjoy helping my dad make cappuccinos for everyone over getting candy, but I'm fine with that. Despite not getting another year of him as a cute animal, I love that he came up with his costume idea all on his own. And he was definitely the cutest hay bale I've ever seen.
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