Before last year November always felt like a cozy month set aside for pumpkin pie lattes, birthdays, Thanksgiving, and the beginning of sweaters and wool socks season.
Then last year happened.
November was a month to survive. Survival was really my only aspiration for November and December last year. Crying myself to sleep night after night. Longing to wake up the next day to find it was all just a nightmare. Then I did wake up,... and reality was still real. Something to merely survive. And I achieved survival. Many days I didn't FEEL alive. But life and faith moved me forward despite how I felt; and brought us through Jude's life and death and into a new year.
This year was something different entirely. I didn't really know what to expect of this month full of painful memories. I've mostly just gritted my teeth, put my head down and kept moving through each day; pushing myself to stay busy. For the most part it hasn't been too bad. I often catch myself wondering if I'm grieving "enough" at this point. I know there is no right or wrong when it comes to dealing with loss. I'm choosing to place my hope in Christ's redemption on the situation and trust that He'll make clear if I need to slow down.
So, that's November.
Here comes December.
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