Since the miscarriage, I’ve been thinking lately how my life is changing seasons. I’m no longer the young woman taking my fertility and youth for granted. I’m also no longer the girl who was so challenged by what other people thought of me, it guided what I did, said and wore. I’m finally comfortable being the person that some people love (xo!), and the same person that others hate (xo to you, anyway!). I am learning to become more content every day with who God has made me to be, and it is a lovely and restful place to be.
So it seems appropriate as I think on things that the leaves outside are about all blown from the trees, and the smell of winter is in the air. Fall is bowing out, winter coming in. And God is so gracious in it all, directing and orchestrating changes both in creation and in me.
One thing I’m doing more of is reading and writing snail mail letters. I love getting mail in the mailbox! It’s so lovely to see my writer’s handwriting, to steep a cup of tea and then just focus on my friend and her words. It’s so different than reading a blog-click-reading a blog-click-reading a blog… I know, I’m a dying breed. It’s ok. I don’t mind what others think 😉