​Novembers leave me grateful for flannel blankets, apple orchards, first snows, and cozy novels. I woke up this morning before the sun did, but my socks were warm and coffee smells especially amazing when all the rest of the house is asleep. Chocolate is delicious, my favorite song just surprised me on shuffle play, God didn't have to make ice sparkle but He did anyways, bury your nose in the pages of a brand new book if you want to smell adventure... 

It's the little things that make life incredible. Especially the hidden ones.

But this year, along with all the goodness of life, I want to be thankful for the hard things.

​I am a North Dakota girl. I love the open prairie and endless blue sky. I love the little pockets of history waiting at the end of every country road, and magical little hollows full of wildflowers and memories hidden in every cow pasture. I'm even a little attached to the people - especially those born and bred country - who love living five miles from their nearest neighbor and pride themselves on being able to survive blizzards in October and freezing wind chill all winter.

Speaking of winter...

Watching the last autumn leaf fall and grey clouds beginning to creep across the prairie, it can be daunting looking forward to "what comes next". Cold, dark mornings. Short overcast days. Snow drifts that tower above my head...

It's enough to leave one curled in a shivering ball underneath the nearest blanket, crying because I may never see the sun again. (Overly dramatic? Sorry... I am a writer)

On the other hand, I've never been one to back down from a challenge, and there is Christmas. (It's the most wonderful time of the year!)

In the same way that I love and dread winter all in one breath, it's easy to do the same with life. How do I enjoy looking forward to "what comes next" when I can't see the big picture or even the next step? Am I doing the right thing? What if I don't make the right choice? If only I hadn't... maybe I should've... do you think I could've...

Thoughts like these have more than once left me ready to give it all up and stay hidden under the bedcovers forever.