So much to be thankful for

I can't believe it is here again. Thanksgiving.  I love bringing the family together. I love all the wonderful food, but mostly I love hearing the ones I love talk about what they are thankful for.

I always thought, years ago, that blessings were found in perfection. I didn't realize blessings could be found through heart ache, or happiness could be felt after fears. I am starting to realize that one thing I am the most thankful for is joy. Joy cannot be taken away by heart ache, or cried out through tears. Joy is still possible even after we feel broken. Joy has the ability to come, even after the hardest days. So this year, I am thankful for joy. It is not one of those emotions that can always be felt, but when it lightens my heart there is nothing better.

Those moments give me strength to keep looking for the good.

Even through the tears and the smiles, life is full of amazing blessings. 

I am so thankful for the lessons I have learned through the tears that I have cried. For the gratitude I have felt through the days that I have smiled... And for the bright rays of hope that surround me each day to remind me . . . I am right where I am supposed to be. 

Even if today was one of the hard ones... Many tomorrow's will bring the smiles again! So don't give up. There is so much to be thankful for.

Last years post about Thanksgiving: 

Our first Thanksgiving as a family

Wait For Me

Dateline had just aired; the twins had just been baptized (I am going out of order big time). Shawn and I felt as if we finally could get away for the first time, and go on a honeymoon.

Our bags were packed and the kids' schedule was set. The drive to the airport seemed surreal—I kept looking at him as if he were not real. Besides the few days we had stayed in a hotel in our own town, we had never gone a day without the daily tasks of our household and raising our six children.

We held hands when we walked. We smooched in every seat we sat that day. We didn’t care that people surrounded us—we didn’t notice them as they walked by—all we could see was each other.

We had lists of things we were planning to do during our week in Hawaii; we had grand places we were told we had to see. As the week progressed—and our list still remained unchecked—we realized we didn’t care about seeing the world . . .we had come to see each other. We didn’t end up going to any of them. We sat by the pool, dove in the waves on the beach, snorkeled, relaxed, ate good food, laughed, hot tubbed, and went on a nightly walk hand-in-hand on the beach.

It felt like we were newlyweds—not the kind with six kids, a divorce and a murder in our past—real newlyweds. There was a sparkle in our eyes unlike any I had ever felt. A few people asked us if we were on our honeymoon—apparently our first time being able to even pretend we had just gotten married was displayed all over our faces.  Little did they know the baggage we carried. We always just smiled and said, “Yes! We are!”

It was amazing having nothing to see but each other—a blessing all couples should have . . . one we need to do again.

I remember at one point looking across a quiet table at a small little local restaurant in Maui, and thinking: I have never loved anything more.

It is amazing what we can see when our view is not obstructed by dirty dishes and laundry.

I have a theory. I believe that this is one of Satan’s greatest tools: blinding us. He gets us so in over our heads that we forget to see each other. We can hear bits and pieces of what we want to hear, but our vision of each other gets so foggy. Why would he want us to not see each other? That is easy . . . because the minute we stop seeing each other, we lose sight of what is worth fighting for when things get hard.  When we stop seeing each other, all of the sudden we are opponents instead of team mates.

Shawn and I have had our share of fights. With scars from the past, comes a lot of fear for the future. Our fears have ignited more battles than I care to count. Sometimes it has been my fears that have waged our wars—other times it has been his, but it is always the same and it always starts with one or both of us not seeing each other.

Our week in Hawaii was the most perfect week I could have imagined. It was almost as if we were seeing each other for the very first time. We didn’t have any battles with fears of the past, we didn’t even talk much about the future . . . we lived in the moment—a place that doesn’t even acknowledge the past or fear the future.

One night while walking on the beach hand-in-hand, tears began to fall down my cheeks. Soon Shawn noticed my silence and glanced my way. He stopped and turned me around to face him. I looked into his eyes and it felt as though I could see his soul. This spiritual giant looked back at me. I didn’t see his addictive personality, or all the times he forgot to take out the garbage like he said he would. I didn’t see the pile of clothes he had strewn all over the dresser, or his wet towel on the floor—I just saw him.

My love for him felt so overwhelmingly huge—and for the first time in a long time, I was vulnerable and willing to give my whole heart to him. I finally managed to get a few words out into the night air. I whispered, “Shawn. I want to see you like this every day. Why does it take coming to Hawaii for me to feel so much love for you? I have never loved anything in the world like I feel for you at this very moment. I have never had a more perfect week in my entire life. But one thing about you doesn’t make sense. How do you love something so broken . . . you know? How have you been there for me through all of this . . . why? Why haven’t you run away and just given up? I went every day to a courtroom of a murder trial of my husband who you never met. I agreed to go on Dateline to tell our story. There have been days that I have been a shell of a person . . . and still you stayed. Why? What makes you love me, when I am not even sure how to love myself? One day . . . I want to love you with all my heart. I want to let you in . . . and I want to be the wife you deserve . . . but I am not . . . but you are still here waiting for me. Why have you waited for me . . . how . . . how have you loved me even when I didn’t always know how to love you back?”

(Don’t tell Shawn I told you this part J) He had a tear in his eye. He looked out over the ocean and gripped my hand harder than he ever had. His words were like poetry, “Ashlee Ann Birk . . . love isn’t always about what is easy. You have to work every day to make it last. I DIDN’T know it was going to be this hard. And I would be lying if I said some days I wasn’t tempted to just walk away and go back to the simple days before I met you . . . but Ash . . . it would never be the same. I fell in love with you back then, and I am going to fall in love with you over and over again. Life was not complete before I met you—yes it was simple, but it was lonely and empty. Would a conventional family have been a way easier route—hell yes—but then we wouldn’t be us . . . and that is what makes you and me so special.  I didn’t just marry you because I think you are beautiful . . . I married you because you are worth fighting for. So, maybe sometimes it has been hard waiting for you, and sometimes you have had to wait for me . . . but hopefully we never stop waiting for each other . . . hopefully we never lose sight of all the reasons our love is worth fighting for. I will wait for you, and I will do my best to stand by your side through all life has to bring . . . because I love you Ashlee.”

 I had never felt so safe. I didn’t know much about who I was in those days, but I did learn the power of feeling protected—truly feeling that no matter what was to come . . . someone had my back.

It is a powerful emotion . . . LOVE.

It can break us, and it can make us feel whole. It can challenge us to our core, and it can be a rock for our weakened hearts to lean on. It can strengthen us, and it can leave us empty when it is gone.

But is it ever really gone? Even when love is taken from us, does it just disappear . . . or does our ability to give and receive it stay inside of us?

So many people have asked me how I was able to love again after losing so much. To that I answer this: we never forget how. Love is a gift from God—not man. If it feels impossible, that has little to do with our ability and more to do with our connection to a gift that God has given to us. The times in my marriage to Shawn when I have wondered how I was ever going to love him as he deserved, was not because of my inability to love him—but because of my inability to see him how Heavenly Father sees him.

It is that view we must strive to have in our marriages, because quite frankly there will always be something negative trying to block our view of that pure love. But here is the catch: we have to ask for it. We have to get on our knees in those moments where we cannot see that other person and we have to pray for that view to be cleared. We can pray for angels if we have to—to come and clear our view.

Whether your marriage has got you feeling disconnected, uninterested, alone, scared, wandering, empty, and/or frustrated—you are not alone. We will all, at one time or another, experiences these temptations. They are real, because literally they were orchestrated for each of us. There is not a marriage on the planet that has not felt a low time.

It is these low times that remind us of all we have to fight for. When life is going smooth, it is easy to get complacent and lazy—forgetting that love is a project we have to work on every day. If your marriage (or any relationship for that matter) is not the Hollywood version of love you always thought it would be, maybe you need to find someone else—or maybe you just need to clear your view and remember all the reasons you picked that one.

It doesn’t take a trip to Hawaii to be able to see each other—just an adventure around the fog. Fog is filled with hate. The answer to love is not hate. It never has been and never will be.

If love is what we seek—it must be what we are willing to give.

I have learned a few things about love: no matter what I will never live without it. I know that sounds crazy—I, of all people should know that I cannot control what will happen to me in life. But as an expert on losing love, I can promise you it is never gone. Love isn’t a person—it is a gift from God. One I will never stop fighting for.

One thing is for sure—those days when we can really see each other, we are never more close to heaven. God’s love for us never ends—and neither does the gift He has given each one of us. Love is eternal—it has no end. Sometimes we will take a turn waiting around for love, sometimes others may wait for us  . . . but love is never truly lost.

So if love has left you wondering where it has gone—a little hint . . . it doesn’t take a trip to Hawaii to find it. It is wherever you are . . . behind the fog. Find your way through that—and you will see it again. The gift of love is more than a powerful emotion—a piece of our hearts. It is the gift to see another person through Heavenly Father’s eyes.

Thankful

Tonight I had planned on spending a few minutes working on my post about the murder trial, but instead I have other thoughts that have been on my mind about Thanksgiving and what it has been in my life.

-The definition of Thanksgiving is: the expression of gratitude, especially to God.

-Gratitude is defined as: the quality of being thankful; readiness to show appreciation for and to return kindness.

I have so many memories of the Thanksgivings of my past . . .

I remember cramming sixty or so people into my grandma and grandpa's farm house and eating the most delicious food ever. I remember cousins and aunts and uncles, and most of all, my great grandma who lived in a little house next door.

I remember staring at her paralyzed arms that hung by her side, and listening to her stories of Thanksgivings gone by. I would sit in her living room for hours—and watch her little space heater light up and turn off—as she repeated old stories and remembered new ones. I studied her white hair and her wrinkled skin. Every word she spoke to me was filled with life, and so many memories of her past.

I never thought about the memories I was creating—that they would one day be the stories I would sit and tell my great grand daughter some day. I just figured life would always be the way it was. It never crossed my mind that each holiday I spent would one day be a distant snap shot in my mind. I always thought I would be the young carefree child running through pastures and chasing pigs. I had no idea that Thanksgivings would ever be any different—but I soon learned that truth.

When my parents got divorced our traditions changed. Everything that once seemed concrete and secure—was all the sudden different every year. I came to understand my new normal and appreciated the different kinds of memories that were created each year—at the two different houses. My parents both remarried and our families grew. New relationships brought an even broader spectrum to the memories of my holidays gone by.

I remember Thanksgivings at my mom’s with our blended family. They were full of people, and full of love. We had so much to be thankful for—and we were.

Every year was a different group of siblings, and different memories created.

Soon I was off to college. I stuck to the rotations of holidays with my little sisters—switching off at our parents' houses each one. A few weeks after Emmett and I started dating I planned to go to my dad’s for Thanksgiving—by chance his dad lived in the same town. We decided to go together. We drove a few hours out of our way to pick up my little sisters, and headed to see our fathers.

By the time we were half way there snow had begun to fall—and we were in a full on snowstorm. We could barely see the road and I started to get nervous. Emmett reassured me that everything was going to be ok—that he could see the tracks of the truck in front of him and he would follow them closely.

Way past midnight we rolled into town. We met each other’s fathers for the first time the next day. That was our first Thanksgiving together, and the first time Emmett told me he loved me.

The next time Thanksgiving came around we were married. We went down to Arizona with Emmett’s mom to visit his stepbrother and their family. We hadn’t found out I was pregnant with twins yet—but my belly was huge! Everywhere we went people would ask me when I was due. . . I was only three months along! A few weeks later, on Christmas Eve, we found out there were two babies—and they were identical girls!!

The next few years of Thanksgiving traditions were filled with babies. We always traveled to see family—switching between our four sets of parents. With so many parents, we always had somewhere fun to go and celebrate. I loved watching our babies with the extended parts of our families that meant so much to us.  

Thanksgiving 2009 we moved into our house. The next Thanksgiving, before Emmett died, we went and stayed with my Aunt Diane and Uncle Dave. The house was filled with people. It reminded me of the Thanksgivings from my childhood—filled with cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents.

So many memories of Thanksgiving bring peace to my heart. It is weird to look back, and hard to not wish to have a piece of those days come to life again. So many family members, in my memories, have passed away. It is strange sometimes to continue to celebrate without them.

Thanksgiving is a tradition that has always meant a lot to me, but one memory in particular stands out in my mind—the moment I felt in my heart the true meaning of Thanksgiving.

Shawn and I had not been married long when Thanksgiving rolled around. We had no traditions together—and frankly we were both a bit scared to share any traditions from our previous marriages—neither one of us wanted to feel like a replacement in the other person’s holiday celebrations.

My brother Josh invited us over for dinner. My sisters, and dad were all getting together there, so we decided to go and take Shawn’s parents with us.

Walking in I was a little bit nervous. It was our first real family event all together. I didn’t know how everyone was going to respond to each other. Everything was so new. I didn’t want any awkward conversations that made any of the parties feel uncomfortable—or not part of the family. I hoped no one would bring up Emmett, or things from the past we used to do with him. I worried Shawn would feel like a replacement if anyone was to say how they missed Emmett.

Then on the other hand, I didn’t want anyone to feel like they had to pretend they didn’t miss Emmett. There was a hole in our family from his death. He had brought many of them together and had been the glue to so many of the relationships in our family. I wanted to be able to honor their grief . . . but I was so scared it would push Shawn or his family away.

I became so worried about what others were saying and doing . . . I was hardly enjoying the day.

Dinner was great. The food was amazing. Everyone was kind. Nobody brought up Emmett, or said anything to make things uncomfortable. After dinner we were all sitting around and each person began to say something they were thankful for.

When my turn came I stood up. I did not know where to begin. I felt a lump in my throat as I pictured memories of Thanksgiving past. I stared around the room. Gratitude filled my heart as I looked at each face in front of me. Tears came to my eyes as I fumbled for the words to express the thankfulness that was in my heart. I said, “This has been a very hard year for us . . . As I look around this room I am overwhelmed with so much emotion. When Emmett died . . . we were broken—we were lost. That was really hard, trying to be everything for everyone—and wondering how we were going to make it through. Because of everyone in this room, we didn’t do it alone. I am thankful for each one of you. We have been blessed with so many blessings. One in particular—we were given a miracle. This amazing man who swept us up and gave us a reason to find good in this world. Shawn, you didn’t come to replace Emmett—you were sent as an angel to give us hope. You believed in us in a moment anyone else would have walked away.” I looked over at his parents, “Your son is what I am thankful for this holiday—and I am thankful for both of you for raising a noble man who was worthy to be such an angel. Life has not been what I thought it would be—but I have so much to be thankful for. Thank you to everyone in this room for being there for us—and giving us a reason to remember all that we still DO have. I am thankful for this amazing family and the many blessings Heavenly Father has sent us . . . each one of you.”

I hadn’t planned a single word—but once they hit the air, my fear of anyone else making everyone uncomfortable by mentioning the past . . . was gone. I was so afraid that the past was going to ruin the moment—but it was in that moment that I realized  . . . it was the past that had brought us all there.

 (Pictures from our first Thanksgiving)

Every Thanksgiving I had ever celebrated made up my memories—but the things that were in front of me that day—were going to help make up the future. And I was thankful for them all.

Thanksgiving—a time to give thanks. There will be memories of the years gone by; there will always be hopes for the years ahead . . . but really all we have besides a snapshot and a hope—is today.

Wherever you are this Thanksgiving—make it count. Find the beauty in the room with you. Don’t worry about the memories you are missing, or the ones gone by—focus on the memories you are making. Live in the moment. Put away your phones and your computers—and live for today. Make a memory you can tell to your great granddaughter someday as she sits on your couch . . . not knowing all the memories her life will bring.

Life is not going to be the same every year. People will come, and others will go. Traditions of the past are fun—but they do not make a holiday. Holidays are for relationships—strengthening the bonds of the people we love. Don’t let your fear of losing traditions stop you from creating new ones. Embrace the imperfect things you are thankful for just as they are. No year will ever be just like this one—so that makes today pretty dang special.

Thank you for finding hope, for seeking faith, and for embracing your story.The ideals of our pasts and the hopes for our future are only a little part of our lives. 

Thanksgiving is giving thanks for what we have right now. I am thankful for grandparents who have given me so many memories. I am thankful for my parents who have taught me so much and given me life. I am thankful for Emmett and the love I shared with him that brought me five of my babies. I am thankful for my healthy body that made it possible for me to bear each one. I am thankful for my children and the different gifts they have brought into my life. I am thankful for Shawn and his willingness to see past the fractured parts of me—and find the good.  I am thankful for Jordyn who came to complete my motherhood. I am thankful for our very imperfect family that continually teaches me about patience, hope, and hard work . . . but most of all LOVE. 

I am thankful for the broken road . . . that has lead me to today—because without it . . . I am not.

Here is to new traditions—living the stories that will one day just be a faded memory of the past.

God has given us a lot to be thankful for . . . the hope that all of these memories can last forever. The grace of His Son—Eternal families—Life that does not end. And for that, this day—I am so thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving. May your day be filled with gratitude—and your heart be filled with love, for the memories of Thanksgiving past, for the hope of Thanksgivings to come . . . but mainly for what we have to be thankful for today.

Thankful by Josh Groban