Cold Mornings and Hot Coffee

I am nearly 27 and nowhere near where I thought I would be in life at this age, so many years ago. but when I sit back seriously think about it, I have no idea what I had really imagined. Did I see myself as a career woman? a mother? a wife? a grad student? single? in shape? working? sipping coffee with friends? Did any of us really know what we imagined?


What I know now is that I am happy to be where I am today. I am sitting next to my amazing, handsome, supportive husband, in a classroom full of intelligent, God-loving and serving believers where I am free to worship and praise my Father...and have enough money to call home, skype with my sister, and sip coffee with my besties.

Taken by Kristin Boyd 2010

With the days becoming shorter every minute and the mornings colder, it is easy, so easy, for me to get down about my situation and want more. I am always wanting more. It is easy for me to throw myself a pity party (and sometimes I do) in the dark with a movie and ice cream. But when I step out in the cool breezy mountain air, see a dry leave land on my arm, and feel the crispness around me I can only think of joyful things.

There are so many memories. Some good, others not so much. I remember going into work at the coffee shop, doubling over in the bathroom and fearing that I had lost a baby that I never knew about and never celebrated. I remember pulling out my baby clothes and crying into onesies. But for some reason, today, these memories are far beyond my thoughts. These are just things that had happened to me.  I am taken to a place of leaf piles and early snowballs that fills my life -- my hopes and dreams.

I remember early mornings at the bus stop with my sister, playing on the playground at school with my friends (running from the boys then chasing back). I remember one day, in the fall, my lunchbox spilled out on the bus floor so I missed out stop and cleaned up my mess. Being the smart and efficient young girl I was, I picked it up and got off at the next stop...half way down the block...and returned to a locked door and empty house. I waited for about 45 minutes outside, played in the leaves, walked the fence around the yard, twiddled my thumbs and finally my mom came back. Upon hearing that I had missed my stop from my sobbing little sister, my mom locked up the house, jumped in the car and frantically followed the bus around town. My sister continued to sob in the backseat. She demanded to be let on -- imagining that I was crying, alone in the back not knowing how I would ever get home -- and searched every seat and the floor for her cowering, scared little girl. Guess I wasn't as wimpy as everyone thought!  I can still picture the terrified look on my sister's face when skipping, in her pink jumper and thick bangs, she suddenly stopped and stood in the driveway, looking for me then watched the bus pull away with me still riding. She gasped and ran into the yard!!


I remember late nights of sledding off of the picnic table with my dad until it was dark and finally walking into the warm steamy kitchen smelling dinner cooking on the stove.When i got glasses in third grade I thought it funny for a time that I could not see when I came inside for fog on my lenses.  I remember raking leaves (and mostly pine needles) with my family. There is something familiar about working up a sweat yet feeling coldness on your skin. I also remember long adventure hikes in the woods where we would try again and again to take the same picture: one of us standing in the foreground looking like we are holding those in the backgroud in our open hands. s something familiar about working up a sweat yet feeling coldness on your skin.I remember dancing onto the football field and feeling the icy grass crunch beneath my bare toes (I was in colorguard). I remember late night chats with Jason, and our first kiss. I remember flagfootball and my pregnant friends waddling around campus. I rmember pumpkin carving with Dexter and how he didn't want to hurt his baby pumpkin, then how he dropped it on the ground as we headed out to play in the leaves and counldn't care less.


I remember so many things and so many ways I have been blessed. How can I throw a pity party for myself when every breath I take in this autumn air brings me back to a time of laughter, joy and happiness?


Autumn is a time for preparation and quietness. The hustle and bustle of harvest time stills, the hibernation process begins. School shopping is done and routines are established. Family and friends are now gathering inside around the fire, the kitchen table, in the kitchen...and an intimate closeness settles in as we hover over hot cocoa and coffee and cuddle up with those we love. We hunker down for the winter --- the deadness, the cold, the quiet, the isolation, the sharp pins of frostbite against our cheeks and noses.

I used to begrudgingly make my way through and passed the autumn season, now it is a time of quiet, joyful celebration in a slower pace of reflection. For me, it is a time to remember the not-so-good in light of and alongside the good. To prepare, with a thankful heart and grateful attitude, for the winter seasons I will undoubtedly encounter in the months and years to come. It is a time for me to remember where I have been, where I have wanted to be, and ironically, how blessed I am to have not gone where my heart so desired. Autumn is a time for me to remember what I am thankful for and for whom I am grateful. And, most imprtantly, I remember how great, good, just, loving, powerful, kind and faithful God has been, is, and will be...always.