Traditions, new and old.

 As many of you know, my dear mother passed away from cancer on December 5, 2019.  I wrote in my previous post about my struggles with my emotions this past year.  I have been open in my mourning, knowing that many try to keep those feelings to themselves.  In my sharing I have heard many stories of shared experiences from others.  Many of you have joined me in voicing your own grief, whether you lost a loved one recently or years ago.  It's beautiful to be able to share that with you.  

A friend recently made a post about having to form new traditions in the absence of a loved one, especially if so many of your holiday traditions centered around the one you lost.  How very true.  This is the second Christmas without my mom, and I haven't a clue what new traditions will emerge.

My mom loved Christmas.  LOVED it.  She collected ornaments and had so many Christmas decorations that yearly she would have to decide on a theme, knowing not everything could come out of storage.  One of my last precious memories of her, if you'll indulge me in penning it to paper, is decorating her Christmas tree.  Last year I flew from Montana to Texas because mom was once again in the hospital.  Cancer had spread to the liver.  We knew time was running out.  The week before Thanksgiving I broached the idea of going ahead and decorating for Christmas.  Mom was hesitant at first, it's against the rules after all (her rules, not mine), but she quickly came around to the idea.  After all, if it raised her spirits but a bit it was well worth it.  I put up the skinny little tree that she had downsized to years ago and then brought out the many tubs of ornaments.  Every year when we were children, mom would take my sister and me to Hallmark and we would all pick out an ornament.  For a few years we continued the tradition with our spouses and children.  Mom still would buy herself a new Hallmark ornament every year.  So, as I opened up these tubs with mom looking on, I asked which ornaments would she like me to put up.  We sorted through them and before we knew it, both of us were in tears.  There were so many emotions, so many memories tied to not only the ornaments, but also to the practice of decorating.

We took a break and sat and cried together and I gratefully got the opportunity to thank mom for instilling such a love of the holidays in me.  So many traditions she began with us that I now do with my own family.  Her legacy carries on.

Today I decided to do my baking.  Nothing worked well for me.  Cookies I've baked hundreds of times failed to turn out like they should.  I let the temperature of the candy I was making get away from me and scalded myself when it boiled up.  Another batch of cookies I let burn.  And through it all, all I could think about was my mom.  Cooking was another part of our holiday tradition.  Fudge and candy, tea cakes, cookies, sausage balls.  We would set the menu and then cook together, each of us doing our own thing.  Talking when we had something to say but being comfortable in our silence too.  Cooking today, making recipes that I once made in her kitchen, in her company, of course nothing went right.  A big piece was missing.

I remember sitting at my Granny's kitchen table, watching as she cooked.  I quietly observed as she bustled around, as my sister and cousins ran around playing, as my mom and aunts did their parts to get a family meal on the table.  Soon, she was giving me little jobs to do.  When my mom started taking over the family dinners, I made Granny's fruit salad.  I made, and still do make, her butterscotch roll.  Those pieces of her are still here.

So, just as with my precious grandmother, I know mom is still here with me.  I know that she will be a part of the holidays for the rest of my days.  No, it's not even close to the same.  Yes, it hurts and springs on you in the simplest of moments, that loss.  New traditions will also emerge as we try to figure out how to do life with out her.  It hasn't felt like Christmas this year.  Part of that is Covid.  Part of that is a new town.  Mostly its missing my mom.  I have done my best to "fake it" this year, mostly for the kids sake, but I'm going to be honest my friends, there is no part of me that has any Christmas spirit.  I've worn the silly sweaters, listened to the music, watched the movies, sang the carols, decorated, baked, wrapped and shopped, but I still feel a bit scrooge-like.  And you know what?  That's okay.  It's okay to not be okay.  It's okay to not want to celebrate this year.  It's okay to be sad, and missing someone.  It's okay.  

This post has been for me.  If you can relate, I'm sorry, but I also understand.  As another friend once said to me, it's a crummy club to be a member of, but at least you're not alone.  May your holiday season be just what you need it to be, and if it's not, then that's okay too.

The skinny tree sporting the ornaments we finally decided on.

                                               The older tree, after a fun day of decorating.

Reflections

 It's been so long since I sat myself down to write something that I almost don't know where to begin.  I imagine most people forgot I even had a "blog" (is it even considered a blog anymore if you haven't written in it for years?).  There have been moments throughout the past few years that I thought to myself that I should sit down and pen those thoughts to paper, so to speak, but have either lacked the discipline, motivation, or thought that some things were better left unsaid.  So here I find myself, not knowing for sure what has made this moment any different than before. 

I read over my last blog post, in which I discussed our big move to Montana, and all the emotions that went with that transition.  Now, here I am again, months after another move, this time to Wyoming, having experienced many of the same emotions, only now coupled with this year being, well, it being 2020 (you guys feel me).  

This morning I have spent time working on my calendar.  Every year I create a calendar on Shutterfly with all our favorite photos from the year before.  I will hang it in my kitchen and use it almost as a journal, recording important, and not so important, moments that happen.  I always get nostalgic when I am looking through all the photos I have taken but this year I felt something akin to sadness.  Why?

Just a couple weeks ago I was having a conversation about this year with someone.  She made a comment that was something like,"I haven't done a thing this year!"  Of course we did acknowledge the big election which was...something. And, of course, I understand what she was saying, many people didn't have a lot of activity happen.  Most of us dutifully stayed at home, we quarantined, we refrained from travel.  However, that doesn't mean things didn't happen to you.

As I looked over my year in picture form, starting with January, I noticed many things.  I had literally no pictures for the month of January.  For one short moment I questioned this.  How can I have no pictures? Me? Then it hit,  I was in mourning.  I don't know that I could tell you anything that happened that month.  I remember going to therapy once a week, and that's about it.  February was better, we took the kids skiing and being in the outdoors, even in the snowy cold, did (and still does) wonders for my soul.  Spring came and with it so did COVID and the shutdown.  We tried our best to make the best of this new reality we were living.  We powered through at-home learning, played outside when weather permitted, did our best to celebrate three birthdays in the most meaningful ways we could, and spent a lot of time as a family.  Man, it was hard.  In the midst of all that, we also learned we were moving.

Moving was NOT on our radar.  It was scary, and sad, and frustrating, and exciting all at the same time.  We had to buy a house!  We had to buy a house a state away in the middle of a pandemic!  We had to say our goodbyes, pack, and try to get in as much of Montana as we could, in the midst of a pandemic.  I wouldn't recommend it.  Once more, as with every move we have made, we had to face the hurt and pain of being immediately "removed" from peoples lives.  We had people immediately unfriend us on facebook, others just ignored us if we say them in public.  Others were much more upfront, and told us how angry they were, and still others, said they were angry but understood.  Even now, months later, I mourn those relationships.  It's never easy to move.  All of our moves have been difficult, but as I looked at the pictures, capturing our last moments in Montana, I grieve all over again.  Zach and I both have found that we call Montana "home."  I also grieve what we had, the memories we made, the adventures we went on.  It's another byproduct of this year, our adventures have all but screeched to a halt.  Those activities we did, the places we visited during our time in Montana were meaningful for a number of reasons.  They helped us heal from a bad situation in New Mexico.  They helped distract us from not being able to help out with our families in Texas.  They gave us moments of clarity and cleansing when the world became too much to bear.

Now, I don't want you to think the move was all bad.  It hasn't been.  Wyoming has its own beauty and we have lots of plans to get out and adventure more when the world calms down.  The church here has been very welcoming, even with all that is working against us.  The kids love their schools and have found ways to get involved and fit in.  We love our new home and the fact that it is ours. We have found joy here in many ways.  

But still, sadness hits today.  I know I'm not alone in mourning what once was.  I think it's okay to have those emotions, especially this year.  I am grateful for each of you, for allowing me to process through those feelings.  So often we force ourselves to push through, without proper reflection and commiserating. Im a big believer in feeling your emotions and then choosing not to dwell in the bad ones.  This year has been harder in practice, I've lost my mother, I've lost my home, I've lost relationships, but I know I am not alone.  This year has be wrought with divisions, arguments, political strife, death, illness, anger and so much more.  I hope that for many of us will come to realize that if nothing else, we are not alone in our many emotions. 

Now, I will pack up that sadness and lay it down.  I'm going to find joy and excitement in what is to come for us.  I will find hope in the unknown and peace in the knowing that we are never, ever alone.

Thanks for reading.

Greetings from Big Sky Country

It's been a long while since I last wrote and it's been almost as long since we moved across country to our new home in Montana.  So much about our lives have changed in such a short amount of time, that the abruptness of our new life has stunned me into a writer's block. 

I've been struck at how quickly life can change.  It's never easy.  Thankfully, this new path we are on, we feel 100% called to, called to Montana, called to this place, called to this new ministry.  That belief has made things easier. 

We love this new home.  It's different here, and not in a bad way.  So much of what I have longed for can be found in this small, charming town.  I finally feel like my kids are able to enjoy aspects of my childhood that I thought they'd forever miss out on.  The kids have settled in nicely, enjoying school, making friends, getting involved in activities.   It feels...settled.

It hasn't been completely easy.  We are a long way off from anything that used to be familiar.  There was a time that I would expect to see someone I knew when I went to a local store, only to be reminded that I didn't know anyone for thousands of miles.  That's a very lonely feeling.  There were many days where I lingered at our new house, unpacking boxes, settling our belongings, and would be overcome with homesickness.  If only I could have gone "home" for a weekend, I thought, just a couple of days with loved ones...

It's been six months since our rushed move north.  We have experienced so much.  We saw two new states that none of us had seen before.  We drove into a new town, up to a new house, that we had only seen in a few pictures.  We experienced the loneliness of not seeing family for many months.  We have seen scenes from this country that take your breath away with it's grandness and beauty, experiencing nature in a new and amazing way.  We have lived through the worst winter (and still not over we hear) that we have ever imagined.  We have made many new relationships, been embraced by three church congregations in three different towns.  We have also lost friends we thought we had, people from previous churches who refused to even say goodbye to us before we left town.  We have experienced the heart ache of being misunderstood.  We have seen the confusion in our children's eyes as they struggled to understand why there were being discarded.

It's never easy. 

Being in this profession, and living this life, we expect challenges.  We know change will be coming around the bend.  We know, never to get too comfortable.  We also know that this is a life with great reward.

For know we can say, we are home.  We are where we belong.  We know this part of our path is true, and good, and exactly where we are supposed to be.  We know who loves us, and we know Him who loves us most.  It may never be easy, but it is definitely worth it. 

We are living our adventure. 

Journey Together

A few years ago, when Zach was finalizing his decision to become a Pastor in the United Methodist Church, and going through the steps to make that decision a reality, we had lunch with a, at the time, dear friend.  It was during this lunch that I was told by this friend that I was not cut out to be a Pastor's wife.  I was told that I could very likely hinder my husband's ministry unless I chose to change who I was.  This conversation, which was less a conversation and more an attack (in my honest opinion), left me feeling many things.  Anger, indignation, betrayal, and, most of all, insecurity.  It was the last thing I needed to hear at this point in our lives.  We had already accepted a job at a new church, in a new town, things were already in motion, there was no going back now.

I returned home from that lunch and promptly cried buckets of tears.  Zach and I discussed, at length, whether or not we thought this friend was correct in his assessment of me.  My dear husband reassured me repeatedly that I would not hinder his career in anyway, which, I'll admit, I only half believed.  I didn't choose this life.  I married a man who was going to school for business.  When we got married we both only worked part time at the church, helping with the youth.  There was a time when Zach worked full-time in sales, both of us thinking that this was his future.  I never would have thought that God would call him into full time ministry.

Since that afternoon three years ago, I have met many Pastor spouses.  Each one has taught me that there is no one way to live this life.  Each one is different in personality, in gifts, in weaknesses.  Each one has a different opinion of their role in the church and in the ministry of their pastor spouse.  I've been told by more experienced spouses that I have permission to choose my own path.  True, not everyone in the church we are sent to will like me, not everyone will agree with my chosen path, regardless of what it is.  You simply can not please everyone all of the time.

Still, with this knowledge and with these great mentors in my own life, the insecurity persists.  I have not been able to rid myself of the voice of that friend, hearing it in the back of my mind each and every day.  There have been moments, times of despair and uncertainty, that I lament "I am not cut out for this life!"  I cry out to God,"How could Zach be so obviously called to ministry, to being a Pastor, and I am not called to go with him?!"  These moments occur more often than I would like to admit.

However, last week I was able to go to the Annual Conference of the New Mexico United Methodist Churches.  This was my first time at Conference and I quite enjoyed it, despite the long business sessions.  There was a special speaker at Conference, Pastor Jorge Acevedo, who said quite a few things that was life giving to me.  One such thing was, "Comparison is not of the devil, it is the devil."  I would imagine that all of us are guilty of comparing ourselves with others.  It doesn't usually lead to anything good.  Pastor Acevedo had many good things to say, particularly at the Ordination Service.  I found myself getting inspired, inspired to do ministry.  Inspired to do ministry with my husband, excited and emotional, thinking of the day when he will finally be ordained.  Then, like a light turning on, sitting in that service, it occurred to me.  I am called to this life.  Sure, my calling looks nothing like Zach's, and it looks nothing like the spouses of other Pastor's, but it's a calling all the same.  I know I help Zach do ministry when I am at home with the kids feeling useless.  I help when he can go where he needs to go, do what he needs to do, and he knows that I have things handled at home.  I help when I support him unconditionally, when he knows I am willing to go with him wherever his ministry takes him.  I must stand firm in the faith that God has called all of us, in some fashion, and I must not be tempted to compare my calling with others.  I also must remember that as we continue along our paths, the view will change but the destination is unwavering.

I can not promise that I will not have moments of insecurity, of doubt, of worry, moments where I compare myself with someone else.  I can not promise that everyone will like me or agree with my choices.  I can only continue on the best that I know how, hand in hand with my husband, in the full and comforting embrace of our Father, enveloped in the unending and unwavering grace that is offered to us all.

May I please offer a plea to all my church going friends, laity and clergy both, to stop comparing, but to love one another, encourage and uphold the calling in one another, even if it looks different that what we expect or desire?  Thank you for reading.  It means more to me than you know.

You do You

I have a confession to make.  I am addicted to podcasts.  Guys, it's serious.  I don't know why I waited so long, but I fell for them and fell hard. I don't watch tv hardly at all anymore and my time on social media sites have decreased considerably. I listen to a variety of podcasts, mostly true crime (don't judge), and a few comedy.  One I really enjoy and put on when I need a laugh is called the Dollop.  It's an American History podcast that takes a story or a person from history, both distant and not too distant, and breaks it down into a laughter filled hour or so.  I wouldn't recommend this podcast if you are thin skinned or if you can't handle listening to views that may not necessarily match up to your own or are sensitive to bad language.  I love it though and I've learned quite a bit.

One great thing about listening to podcasts is I can put in my earbuds, turn on an episode, and get things done.  I've found I'm much more productive.  Today was a day that I needed to both laugh and get stuff done so I turned on The Dollop and got busy.  Interestingly enough, one of the topics spoke to something that has been on my heart lately.

So the topic was a silly one, titled Straw Hat Riot (episode 129 for you Rubes), and basically it spoke about a time that people were so concerned that men not wear their straw hats passed a specified date, that they would literally take and destroy said hat if one was caught wearing it.  It became a real issue, people were arrested and injured because of a hat. One of the hosts of the podcasts (and I paraphrase because language) said, "Why do people care what other people are doing so much?"

That's what's been laying on my heart lately.  Why do people care what other people do so much?  Maybe I've mellowed with age, or maybe I've encountered enough people who are different than what I grew up with, or maybe it's life experiences, who knows, but honestly folks, I don't care very much what other people choose to do if it doesn't harm anyone.  For instance, how many posts have you seen regarding fashion and you just can't wrap your mind around why someone would choose to wear it?  Or, perhaps you can't stand a certain celebrity, and cant fathom why someone would look up to them.  How many times have you glanced at the comments of that cute puppy video you shared and saw commentors who somehow found something negative to say about it.  Even those recipe videos some of us love (guilty) will have comments along the lines of "Why would anyone eat this" or "wow, this cake is really ugly, who would want it?"

Whatever it is, so many people feel the need to take a stance on the silliest of issues, becoming keyboard warriors against anyone who would dare be different.  I'm here to tell you, I DON'T CARE!  I don't care what you wear, how much makeup you wear, how your hair is done, what shows, music, books you like.  I don't care if you prefer a certain type of vehicle or type of pet, if you can't stand a certain type of food or hobby.  I don't care if you are a Baptist or a Methodist, if you prefer one type of worship music over another.  I don't feel the need to turn everyone I meet into Mikel clones, who believe in the exact same way I do.  Let me enjoy the things I enjoy, and I'll be glad to return the favor.

Try as you might, you will not find anyone who agrees one hundred percent with you in any given topic, be it politics, religion, current events, how you raise your family, or how you live your life.  That's OK.  I've learned so much from people who think differently than me.  There is so much negativity in this world, why add to it?  Why bring misery to yourself and others over insignificant things?  Why, when there are so many real issues going on today that are much more deserving of our concern and attention?

Friends, there is so much darkness in our lives, in our world, why can't we all choose to stop finding issue with our neighbors, stop adding to the negativity, and instead bring much needed light and love into our lives and into the lives of those we encounter, even if it's just with strangers on the internet.  It's okay to have differing ideas about things.  It's okay to not like everything we see.  However, ask yourself, would this negative thought benefit anyone else?  Is it worth my time to comment about something I don't like or think is silly?  Are my negative comments online or in person the witness I want to give?

May your days be filled with goodness and may we all be the light in a world filled with darkness.

Peace in Chaos

If you are a reader of this blog, you probably know that Christmas is a favorite time of year for us.  I have written many a blog post over this season, the traditions we have, the joy we find in celebrating.  However, in true transparency, I must share that finding joy in the holiday season has not always been easy.

Last year, for example, was such a challenge.  It was the first year that we weren't with family for Christmas Eve.  It was also the first year that Zach had to work on Christmas Eve.  I really struggled with finding balance for our family with all the obligations we had.  I had a list a mile long of things I wanted to do as a family, activities and memory makers for our children.  I was so consumed with making Christmas as memorable as possible for our family, I was sucking the joy out of the entire season.  I broke one day, when all my well thought out plans went awry.  I was so focused on my ideas of what Christmas could and should be, that I forgot to even consider what my family wanted and needed out of this time of advent.

This year I vowed to not allow that to happen again.  However, now I find myself, two weeks from Christmas, and not at all in the holiday spirit.  Something is missing and I haven't quite been able to put my finger on what it is.

I smile to myself just now, reflecting on the ways God speaks to us.

Many of my friends and family know that my husband, the incorrigible Zach Bechtold, has a podcast with his good friend, Matt Franks, known as the Bearded Theologians.  Again, in true transparency, I admit that I am not a faithful listener to this podcast. (Sorry guys)  It's not because of anything other than I live with Zach and I listen to him all the time.  I mean, I have to hear his sermon twice on Sundays.  I love the guy and think he has thought provoking things to say, usually, but putting on their podcast isn't usually at the top of my to do list.  Today, however, in the midst of dealing with finishing Christmas shopping and tending to two sick and pitiful children, I pulled up a couple of podcasts and gave them a listen.

God finds ways to speak to us, even using our husbands.

The podcast I listened to came from last week and was about peace.  Finding peace. Finding peace within our self and through the gift of Jesus Christ.  There is no amount of decorating, baking, caroling, gifting, or cups of hot chocolate that can bring peace to this time of chaos and busyness.  Peace comes from one place, God, and we are responsible for allowing that peace to work in our own lives.  When we welcome peace into our own lives, that peace will be poured out into everything we do.  The chores of Christmas will become joyful, and that joy will seep into all that we do.

Welcome the peace.  Encourage others to find peace.  Take joy in the quiet times, realizing that we need those moments to hear what God is calling us to be, in that moment, and in the days to come.  Listen to who God is calling you to bring joy, happiness, and peace during the season of highs and lows.  Take the time to remember what is truly important, during this Christmas holiday and throughout the new year.

May peace be with you.

Take a listen to the Bearded Theologians podcast on peace below or at the Bearded Theologian website, where you can catch all their content: https://beardedtheologians.com

and give them a follow on facebook here:
https://www.facebook.com/BeardedTheologians/?fref=ts

Christmas Traditions

It's that time again!  Christmas season has begun.  My Christmas countdown gives us 27 days to go.

As we work to prepare for this holiday, I have been giving a lot of thought towards traditions.  Christmas traditions have always meant so much to me.  Each little act that my family would do would help get me into the Christmas spirit.  There were some traditions from my childhood that I couldn't wait to continue on with my family.  One of these is decorating the tree.  We crank out the Christmas songs, fight with the strands of lights, wondering why only half the strand is working, the kids fight over who gets to put up the Christmas star, and we pull out the ornaments, remembering where and when we got each one, as we take turns hanging them on the tree.  Each year we let the kids pick out new ornaments for the tree.  We also try to get a new ornament from our travels.

I love seeing other people's Christmas trees.  Each family does this in a different way.  Some are like my family, you have a collection of mismatched ornaments that are meaningful in some way to you.  Some families have a tree theme, maybe you have many trees, all with different themes.  Some people have beautifully put together trees with ribbons and balls.  It's all wonderful, no matter how you choose to decorate.

One thing that I didn't anticipate in my youth was that as we get older, as new people are added into the mix, and as things change, traditions will need to be changed as well.  I don't fear change, generally, but messing with my traditions is something different all together.

This year marks the first time in my entire life that I am not sitting at my parents for Christmas dinner.  Our little family of five will be by ourselves this Christmas day and I don't even know what to do.  I tell the kids that we will develop new traditions, a new way of doing Christmas, but as of right now I do not know what that looks like.  I do know, as I have learned from experience, that I can not force new traditions on my kids.  There will be things we do, that I feel like the kids should love, but really I'm doing it more for me than them.

So, help me out friends!  What are somethings that your family does, or has done, that you love, that really put you in the spirit of Christmas?  How have you handled change to your Christmas routine?  How have you explained those changes to your children?

This holiday season will be full of change, full of memories, and full of new experiences, of that I am sure.

I'll leave you with a few pictures of our ornament collection.

Nativity star from Vatican City

Zach and mine's first ornament and Ryann's first ornament.

Penguin family I got when I knew our family was complete.

I love our little handmade ornaments!

I had a picture ornament made this year.  I love how it's nestled between
Iron Man and a bell from the Polar Express!

Zach and I received this little tree on our first Christmas as a married couple.  Zach's grandmother gave it to us as a gift and it has fit perfectly in every home we have shared together, 6 houses!