Thanksgiving Day

It's been a little while since I've posted, but what better day to return to my Gratitude Diaries than Thanksgiving Day?! I'm trying to fully grasp that this is our last holiday season as a family of two, although, in a way, I already feel like we're a family of three.  It's hard NOT to already feel like a mother when I have this life growing inside of me, a life I can actually feel moving around now!  At our ultrasound this month, we were overjoyed to discover that we're having a little girl.  I completely understand the reasoning behind wanting to wait until the baby's birthday to find out the gender, but there's something so magical and joyful in being able to refer to our little one as "she" and "her" now.  And in this case, it feels like we have been waiting to welcome our "Nina" into our family for years now.  Nina is a name we chose about five years ago!  While we would be equally blessed to be awaiting a son, I think we somehow always knew our first child would be our Nina.  We recently chose the middle name "Arabella," which means "answered prayer" or "yielding to prayer."

As for Nina: Nina is as multi-ethnic as you can get; she is a young girl in Spain, a common nickname in Russia, a Babylonian goddess of the oceans, and an Incan goddess of fire. Nina means "grace, beautiful eyes, mother, powerful, strong, mighty, fire, friend, flower, 'God was gracious' or 'God has shown favor.'" It is a Christian name derived from the original Georgian form Nino, dating back to Saint Nino and imported to Western Europe from Russia and Italy in the 19th century. This name also coincides with the Spanish word niña meaning "little girl."

With each passing week, it somehow becomes simultaneously easier to have faith in a beautiful future and more difficult, if that makes any sense at all.  With each amazingly happy development and each new little piece of wonderful news about this pregnancy, the stakes are raised that much higher.  I wish I didn't have to think about it in that way.  And much of the time, I'm able to just be grateful and excited. But there are still those moments of fear, sometimes even panic.  I know that gratitude is all about being grateful for the moment, this moment right here, right now.  I know that the best practice is to keep a gentle grasp on all circumstances, good or bad. But I think it's only human to be afraid of happiness slipping away, of an uncertain future.  I don't take my blessings for granted, but I realize there's a fine line between not taking them for granted and not believing in the "legitimacy" of those blessings. The former embodies a humble and thankful spirit; the latter embodies doubt in God's plan.  On this Thanksgiving Day, I resolve to be in the moment, to observe the blessings I'm enjoying today, regardless of what tomorrow may hold.  I have a husband who takes care of me when I'm sick, makes me laugh when I'm sad, has faith when I'm unsure, and admires me so much that he cannot stop compulsively telling me what a good mother I'll be.  I have parents who support me, friends who enrich my life and give it meaning, gifts I use on a daily basis and gifts I have yet to discover. And I have Nina Arabella, 21 weeks along--I've read she can hear quite a bit, so I hope she hears all the songs I sing and the kind words people are already saying about her.

Another thing I'm thankful for this year is that Galo and I are reaching common ground in regards to simplifying our life and minimizing our material possessions.  We are working on going through our apartment, wardrobes, etc and donating those things we do not need and could be better used by others. For every new item we purchase, we strive to donate something else.  I'm enjoying preparing our home for our child so we can all live a calm and clutter-free life.  The less clutter we have, the freer we feel.  The less we feel compelled to own, the greater appreciation we have for the priceless pieces of our lives.  Each holiday season I experience anxiety and dread when I think about shopping lists.  It just doesn't seem like it should have to be that way.  Every time I see a Black Friday commercial or advertisement email I get angry and a little sick to my stomach.  With all the problems in our country and the world, it just seems like we could all stand to realize that materialism is a temporary distraction, nothing more.  We will never find the happiness and peace we hunger for through Black Friday purchases, expensive Christmas presents, or stressful shopping lists.  All the time spent planning and purchasing throughout the holidays could be better spent together, finding common ground, reflecting, and helping each other access hope for the new year to come.  Oh, and singing Christmas carols, of course.

Holding on Lightly

I have heard of people saying their kids are "on loan" to them from God.  I find comfort in thinking about it that way.  First of all, it's a reminder that my child is God's and He will take care of him/her with me and my husband.  It is also a reminder to hold onto all things lightly, because everything really belongs to God. Our gifts, our relationships, our loves.  During a recent Sunday evening homily, our priest posed the question, "Is there anything God could ask us to give to Him that we would refuse to give?"

Of course, there are things we would want to refuse to give, and I think that only makes us human. But it's good to reflect on the people, experiences, talents and possessions we think belong to us in our life.  My husband and I celebrated one year of marriage yesterday (so much gratitude!) and we have been a couple for over six years in total.  After such a length of time, it's easy to start viewing each other as a presence we're entitled to, a source of stability that belongs to us. And I suppose for someone with anxiety--someone like me-- it would seem very scary to admit that love and stability doesn't in fact "belong" to us.  But actually, to me, the idea that everything belongs to God is a comforting and reassuring one because He is the One who truly knows how to take care of everything.  He is the Shepherd of our relationships, our marriages, and our families, and He will not lead us astray. I don't think "holding on lightly" to the people and relationships we cherish means we don't fight for them or show our fierce devotion to them.  God wants us to be devoted to our relationships, above all our relationships with our life partners and our children.  He challenges us to love like He does, unconditionally and unselfishly.  But part of that kind of selfless love means maintaining a gentle hold and being open to God's path for that person.

For example, I am trying to hold on lightly to my friendship with one of my very dearest friends, Megan, who is moving to Minnesota next week.  Since this move is a very positive life step for her, it makes it much easier for me to focus on the gratitude I have for our friendship instead of the sadness that she won't be living within walking-distance from me anymore. She has bravely faced a number of difficult life situations in the time I've known her, and now it is time to celebrate positive change.  I am someone who often experiences others' struggles almost as my own, and have a heightened awareness and sensitivity to their suffering.  But it has occurred to me that sharing in people's hopes and joys in addition to their pain not only helps refresh me when I have compassion fatigue, it establishes a balance and serves as a reminder that life is made up of a lot of good in addition to suffering. Being happy for people in their good times is just as important as being compassionate to them in their times of despair. That is also motivation for me to share my hopes, joys, and dreams with those around me so others can share in those positive things in addition to being there for me in difficult times. Sometimes I hold back and don't share moments of happiness in an attempt to be sensitive to those who aren't happy. But in the right circumstances, happiness and a hopeful outlook can be contagious.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do."

~Marianne Williamson​