January Needs a Rebrand
The one where we pivot once again
I feel a little bit bad for January.
There’s snow on the ground here in Colorado, and we’re expecting more snow later today (along with half of the country it seems). But January snow isn’t magical like December snow. And somehow it’s the longest month of the year, even though it has a normal amount of days. By the time we lumber into January, we’re tired, full, and cold.
Poor January.
I’ll add that I now harbor an added layer of resentment toward January. Just as we settled into my favorite thing ever (the entire family under one roof), January showed up and made everyone go back to college. Now the house is quiet, Christmas decorations are boxed up, and I have to eat salad because enough is enough. Boo for January.
The last month has been a glorious flurry of reunions and family time and hosting guests. Routines went out the window weeks ago, starting when our girls arrived home from college for the long Christmas break.
They walked in the front door loaded down with laundry and a semester’s worth of new life experiences. A few days later, we traveled to Texas to see family. Then we shared a quiet Christmas at home. After Christmas we hosted dear family friends, which involved lots of out-of-the-routine activities and eating (my jeans hate me).
I made family-sized meals again after just recently mastering the art of cooking for two. We enjoyed the familiar routine of seeing our girls emerge from their childhood bedrooms each morning, spent face-to-face time with them every day, and lingered over conversations…some casual and others full of depth.
The last month has been delightful, comforting, and bucket-filling. But short-lived nonetheless.
This week we sent our daughters back to their respective universities. Back to the lives they’ve begun to build for themselves. The familiar knot in my stomach in the days leading up to it forced me to admit that I still really, really miss how things used to be.
It’s not even the first time we’ve sent a kid back to college after a break. And of course I know it’s how things are supposed to go. Kids grow up. They pursue their gifts and passions. Parents get the house back. We pursue our own passions and interests. Parenting takes on a completely new role.
But I do have some questions: Is it ok if I still don’t like it? Will watching them leave ever feel normal? Why is college so stupid?
The house is quiet for the first time in a month, and I realize that it’s time to pivot, once again. This season is a constant pivot. I don’t know if I just forgot, but the way it caught me off guard is almost embarrassing.
So…how do we do this again? The back and forth? Empty house, full house, empty house, full house? It’s emotional calisthenics, and I probably need to train more.
After watching our daughter’s car pull out of the driveway, I went back inside and headed down to the basement for on a long walk (on the treadmill, because it was 14 degrees outside and I’m not a lunatic.) As I walked, I let tears well in my eyes just for a moment, but they didn’t fall this time. I noticed an ever-so-slight shift, a little surprised that my heart wasn’t as heavy as I expected.
This time, the pain of letting our kids go back out into the world was a little more balanced by the excitement I feel over what they’ll both experience this year. For a brief second, I thought to myself, “Maybe I’m slowly starting to figure this out.”
That first evening after our kids left, my husband and I went to dinner. A little date night was the perfect buffer for my general mopiness.
We talked about the break, and reflected on how much growth we’ve seen in our kids (growth that would never happen if they were still at home, by the way.) We brainstormed ideas for a few new house projects and mapped out plans for some short trips together this spring.
God gently reminded me (for the hundredth time) that it’s ok to miss what used to be, but there's also so much more ahead for all of us. I’m learning that it’s not helpful for me to cling too much to the past, because it can easily cause me to miss what He is doing in the small moments of today.
As we pivot our way back into this just-the-two-of-us season once again, I’m trusting God for what’s ahead. January (bless her heart) really is a great metaphor for new beginnings and learning to be content where we are, even when we may not like it just yet. And even if we can’t quite see what’s next.
Here’s to walking expectantly into a new year, clinging to the thrill of hope, the gift of grace, and the promises found in every new season.