i have a rough history with new year's. in years past, i have dreaded the arrival of a new year and have struggled to flip the calendar and stare down the barrel of a fresh year that begged for living.
i am usually a die hard optimist. i can look at most situations and see the slice of silver lining- however thin it may be- and readjust my attitude to reflect that hope and expectation. but for some reason, the tiny realist who dwells deep within would always run to the forefront and demand attention each year as the calendar crept towards january 1st.
due to the basic fact that i am human... i am aware that i will face loss. the thing we humans try the hardest to avoid in life is pain and loss... and so each year as i raced towards that fresh slate... i would wonder what the following january 1st would look like... and who might be missing from my life.
i would become paralyzed with fear and anxiety and scan the lives of my loved ones and try to rate the risk of loss in each of their lives. i realize that loss will come... someone will pass from this life and i will be left behind... and i can't begin to formulate how to prepare for that.
but this year? i know loss. while i've not buried someone in the soft, wet earth, i have seen the death of my marriage. a death i thought would never come to pass... and one that has rocked my entire world. i have also stood by my best friend as she laid her mother to rest. she was in her early 60s and no one was prepared to say goodbye to her this soon. i have lost much of my physical 'stuff'... from furniture, to housing, to clothing and even weight... and have held my children as they cried for the 'normal' life they thought they were promised just by being young and innocent. i know the heaviness of loss, and i know the ache of grief. and through it all? i am still alive. i can see the goodness of God in the middle of the loss... i can feel the heaviness of authentic community and gracious family. i have embraced a few friends as life long blood now, and i have said goodbye to others who couldn't handle the heat of my dramatic pain. i know loss and i know grief... .and what's more... i know that i can live through it. i now know that i have strength that doesn't break... it bends and wrinkles in the struggle, but it isn't brittle and fragile. i see myself as a strong rope... flexible and strong. able to hold and support more weight than should be physically possible. i have faith in me. but... it's because i have faith in Him.
so this year, i am eager for the new year. the fresh slate that used to overwhelm me with negative possibilities now stretches before me with endless possibilities. the freedom and grace and love and peace that i long for could lie nestled within the months to come. i hope to see more healing, strength, intimacy and provision as i tear month after month from the wall calendar. i pray that as those pages are folded up to be preserved as family history, that there will be entries encompassing dinners with friends, work that will feed my children, events that celebrate events with people i love, and even some adventure. i'm excited for what can happen over the next 12 months. this year still might hold loss and grief for me... but i now know that i can survive... and that is the gift i take from 2013. happy new year's dear ones. may this year bring growth... peace.... love that is authentic and deep... and joy that defies explanation. (and a bit of adventure as well!) i can't wait to meet you back here in a year and compare notes. i'm thinking we'll all have a lot to share and we won't believe where we'll be sitting. cheers!!!
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Thursday, December 26, 2013
resolved
i am blessed with people in my life who encourage me. i'm thankful for friends who know when to reach out and say things that will lift my spirits and build me up.
i had a sweet friend send me a note this morning thanking me for helping to teach her to talk to her children more, and get to the bottom of their hurt.
i am humbled.
the reality is.. i do talk with my kids- a lot. i have many friends who come from broken homes, and the common thread seems to be that there was no real discussion of emotions, or changes, or why things were happening the way they were. i can't imagine being a child whose life is turned upside down and not know something about why everything was shattering. i decided very quickly that i would make space for my children's questions and hurts, and i would do my best to answer them at their appropriate age levels and ability to understand. it has not been easy. there are a lot of things i'd love to tell them when they are angry with me for 'sending their dad away'. so many things i want to yell at them to justify why i've made the choice i did, knowing that when you know the details.... no one would condemn me... but also knowing that ultimately, i want to preserve the relationship they have with their father, and railing against him- even in my own defense- would only serve to layer on more hurt, confusion and anger over hearts that are already raw and wounded. i am living in a place of waiting- praying and hoping that when they are older they will see some of the reasons i've made the choices i've made. that maybe they might even thank me for doing what i'm doing. but today? right now? they are angry and i am an easy target.
i'd like to tell you that i always just talk to them. but that is so far from the truth that i can't even pretend that it's real. i yell far more often than i wish i did. my own fear and anger and pain leaks into our interactions, and while i wish i responded with grace and love, i often respond with pain and shouts. sometimes i feel that our family is one codependent pod of pain that moves around the house bumping into one another, and ripping new wounds in each other as we all try to find our place in the new landscape that has become our normal. many days i feel like a failure. when the rise of emotion and anger begins to bubble up in my children and seep out onto one another, and that leads to hitting, and yelling and name calling- i sometimes shout above the noise... knowing as i do that it is out of fear and hurt. i hate to see them ache. i hate to see them try to make sense of this in their limited understanding, and hate to see them lash out at each other and even me as they try to let off some of the pressure of the hurt. some days i can see the good that i'm doing... and i'm glad i am able to talk to my kids, and that they often talk back.. but other days... i feel overwhelmed with the reality that my own anger and pain often adds to the mess rather than being the one to absorb it and make sacred space for their hearts to rest.
i don't really do new year's resolutions. i do a good enough job of whipping myself emotionally over perceived failures, and am in no hurry to add more potential failings to the mix. but this year... if i were to choose anything.. it would be to respond in a more quiet manner. to remember in my own anger and pride that the response i see in my children is usually birthed in pain that manifests in anger. i want them to remember me as a soft place to fall... not as a yelling, angry, hurting woman who scared them and added to the chaos. i want to be a place of peace and grace... leading my family into new frontiers as we figure out the journey with new roles. any progress is good progress and i will celebrate small victories. the encouraging note from my friend was beautiful and kind, but also serves as a challenge to me- to continue to do the hard, exhausting work of talking and listening, and to remember that the yelling and hitting from them is a symptom of deeper pain. i will address the pain and not the symptoms. here's to a more peaceful 2014!
i had a sweet friend send me a note this morning thanking me for helping to teach her to talk to her children more, and get to the bottom of their hurt.
i am humbled.
the reality is.. i do talk with my kids- a lot. i have many friends who come from broken homes, and the common thread seems to be that there was no real discussion of emotions, or changes, or why things were happening the way they were. i can't imagine being a child whose life is turned upside down and not know something about why everything was shattering. i decided very quickly that i would make space for my children's questions and hurts, and i would do my best to answer them at their appropriate age levels and ability to understand. it has not been easy. there are a lot of things i'd love to tell them when they are angry with me for 'sending their dad away'. so many things i want to yell at them to justify why i've made the choice i did, knowing that when you know the details.... no one would condemn me... but also knowing that ultimately, i want to preserve the relationship they have with their father, and railing against him- even in my own defense- would only serve to layer on more hurt, confusion and anger over hearts that are already raw and wounded. i am living in a place of waiting- praying and hoping that when they are older they will see some of the reasons i've made the choices i've made. that maybe they might even thank me for doing what i'm doing. but today? right now? they are angry and i am an easy target.
i'd like to tell you that i always just talk to them. but that is so far from the truth that i can't even pretend that it's real. i yell far more often than i wish i did. my own fear and anger and pain leaks into our interactions, and while i wish i responded with grace and love, i often respond with pain and shouts. sometimes i feel that our family is one codependent pod of pain that moves around the house bumping into one another, and ripping new wounds in each other as we all try to find our place in the new landscape that has become our normal. many days i feel like a failure. when the rise of emotion and anger begins to bubble up in my children and seep out onto one another, and that leads to hitting, and yelling and name calling- i sometimes shout above the noise... knowing as i do that it is out of fear and hurt. i hate to see them ache. i hate to see them try to make sense of this in their limited understanding, and hate to see them lash out at each other and even me as they try to let off some of the pressure of the hurt. some days i can see the good that i'm doing... and i'm glad i am able to talk to my kids, and that they often talk back.. but other days... i feel overwhelmed with the reality that my own anger and pain often adds to the mess rather than being the one to absorb it and make sacred space for their hearts to rest.
i don't really do new year's resolutions. i do a good enough job of whipping myself emotionally over perceived failures, and am in no hurry to add more potential failings to the mix. but this year... if i were to choose anything.. it would be to respond in a more quiet manner. to remember in my own anger and pride that the response i see in my children is usually birthed in pain that manifests in anger. i want them to remember me as a soft place to fall... not as a yelling, angry, hurting woman who scared them and added to the chaos. i want to be a place of peace and grace... leading my family into new frontiers as we figure out the journey with new roles. any progress is good progress and i will celebrate small victories. the encouraging note from my friend was beautiful and kind, but also serves as a challenge to me- to continue to do the hard, exhausting work of talking and listening, and to remember that the yelling and hitting from them is a symptom of deeper pain. i will address the pain and not the symptoms. here's to a more peaceful 2014!
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
christmas musings
it's christmas. the end of the day. the presents have been opened, food eaten, kids spent time with their paternal grandparents, and this mama napped some.
when life changes... when the structure of the life you've created somehow slips and cracks, and begins to hurdle towards leveling... holidays have no choice but to follow. changes have to happen, and new patterns emerge, and everyone wriggles towards the most recognizable normal that can be grasped.
i have to admit, i was a bit nervous.
this is the third house we've been in on the third christmas in a row, and the likelihood of being in yet another house next year is quite high. i feel dizzy with the speed of change that we've experienced, and like my children, i yearn for some stability, some solid ground on which to get my footing. all of the change, and difference smears together into one big blur, and i try hard to pull out some thread of familiarirty that i can offer my kids to assure their hearts that we are ok.
their dad spent time with us last night and again today. it went better than i had anticipated, and i'm thankful for that. i pray that the two of us can find a road to navigate that will be paved with friendship and shared love for our kids and that we can provide some landscape of familial love for our kids. i feel that we did the very best we could this year, and the kids seemed fairly adjusted.
but then they return home after an evening with him and his family, and the oldest son starts wailing away at us both emotionally and physically. i've learned that this is his coping skill when he's angry and hurting, and i am learning to speak honestly and firmly to him to try to allow space for his hurt and anger while also protecting the hearts and souls of the other children who often become the target of his pain. it's a complicated dance we have here now... with me as the dj- trying to offer melodies that will bring joy and peace rather than dissonance and grief. i work hard to allow him to have space to hurt, but to recognize that we are not the enemy, and as sweet Jesus reminds us in his word- we can be angry and still not sin. we managed to bumble through this hurt and get to the other end of it where he was tucked in warmly and loved, and i pray his wounded heart would be carried by the father as he sleeps. this life of fractured family has tentacles of pain that reach far and wind hard and i beg God to please extract my children from the pain and grief and try hard to instill in them the solid knowledge that they are dearly loved.
i was loved graciously today by people who don't know us.. and in God's amazingly creative way... we were given a net on which to fall. presents and gifts and love poured in and they cradled us in the physical which reminds us that we are also held tightly in his arms.
i'm filled with gratitude, and yet also ache. glennon melton, who writes so beautifully at the blog called momastary, calls life like this 'brutiful'.... and i couldn't agree more. i am living proof that this messy, bloody, painful, beautiful life is both gorgeous and brutal. i am laying claim tonight to that title over my family. we are in the the very center of bruitful. and while that hurts... and while it rubs, and gapes, and bleeds... there is also such grace here... and i'm not sure this amazingly close fragrance of God can be experienced outside of the brutiful life. it is here that we find not only ourselves... but the essence of Him.
merry christmas dear ones.
when life changes... when the structure of the life you've created somehow slips and cracks, and begins to hurdle towards leveling... holidays have no choice but to follow. changes have to happen, and new patterns emerge, and everyone wriggles towards the most recognizable normal that can be grasped.
i have to admit, i was a bit nervous.
this is the third house we've been in on the third christmas in a row, and the likelihood of being in yet another house next year is quite high. i feel dizzy with the speed of change that we've experienced, and like my children, i yearn for some stability, some solid ground on which to get my footing. all of the change, and difference smears together into one big blur, and i try hard to pull out some thread of familiarirty that i can offer my kids to assure their hearts that we are ok.
their dad spent time with us last night and again today. it went better than i had anticipated, and i'm thankful for that. i pray that the two of us can find a road to navigate that will be paved with friendship and shared love for our kids and that we can provide some landscape of familial love for our kids. i feel that we did the very best we could this year, and the kids seemed fairly adjusted.
but then they return home after an evening with him and his family, and the oldest son starts wailing away at us both emotionally and physically. i've learned that this is his coping skill when he's angry and hurting, and i am learning to speak honestly and firmly to him to try to allow space for his hurt and anger while also protecting the hearts and souls of the other children who often become the target of his pain. it's a complicated dance we have here now... with me as the dj- trying to offer melodies that will bring joy and peace rather than dissonance and grief. i work hard to allow him to have space to hurt, but to recognize that we are not the enemy, and as sweet Jesus reminds us in his word- we can be angry and still not sin. we managed to bumble through this hurt and get to the other end of it where he was tucked in warmly and loved, and i pray his wounded heart would be carried by the father as he sleeps. this life of fractured family has tentacles of pain that reach far and wind hard and i beg God to please extract my children from the pain and grief and try hard to instill in them the solid knowledge that they are dearly loved.
i was loved graciously today by people who don't know us.. and in God's amazingly creative way... we were given a net on which to fall. presents and gifts and love poured in and they cradled us in the physical which reminds us that we are also held tightly in his arms.
i'm filled with gratitude, and yet also ache. glennon melton, who writes so beautifully at the blog called momastary, calls life like this 'brutiful'.... and i couldn't agree more. i am living proof that this messy, bloody, painful, beautiful life is both gorgeous and brutal. i am laying claim tonight to that title over my family. we are in the the very center of bruitful. and while that hurts... and while it rubs, and gapes, and bleeds... there is also such grace here... and i'm not sure this amazingly close fragrance of God can be experienced outside of the brutiful life. it is here that we find not only ourselves... but the essence of Him.
merry christmas dear ones.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
you matter
i went to the movies today. it was a matinee in a small theater here in my small town. i got there a bit early, and was all alone for about 10 minutes while previews played. then a mother and her teen daughter came in. they were a bit loud and silly and they sat across the aisle and to my left. the daughter seemed to be animated, but not overly so.
a few more people came in, found seats, scrolled through their phones,and chatted as they waited for the show to start. the daughter was a little chatty, but while i thought she was a little loud, i wasn't offended in any way. as the previews ended and the movie began, the two women who had sat in front of the girl and her mom made a show of getting up and moving- and sat behind me.
they were annoyed with the girl, and were frustrated that she was making noise during the movie. instead of extending grace, they made it obvious to everyone that they were annoyed.
i was heartbroken.
i had noticed very quickly that the girl was a little different. if i had to guess, i would place her on the autism spectrum. her behavior was normal to me as i live with kids who are on the spectrum. she wasn't overly loud, she wasn't always loud, and i wasn't annoyed with her at all- just aware of her. i knew that when those women moved, that there must have been a reaction of some sort in the heart of the mother... who was being a great mom by bringing her daughter to the movies to spend time with her. the girl was excited, and engaged with the story, and while she had to be shushed by her mother several times during the show, she was never offensive, or over the top in any way. in fact, her innocence and gaiety was pleasing to me. the entire time i was at the showing, i was distracted because i knew that the mother had noticed the actions of the other women. i know from experience that my child's behavior in public might not always be "appropriate" and yet, it's also not always "appropriate" for me to share that with strangers surrounding us who are staring and judging. i've learned after a decade with a special needs child, that ultimately the judgement of strangers matters little in my life story and well being, but sometimes it still stings.
as the movie ended, the girl jumped to her feet and clapped wildly. she told her mother in a very loud whisper that "you stand and clap when you like the movie!" i smiled at her excitement.
i stood up and walked towards the two of them. i looked the mother in the eye and just said- 'you're doing a great job mama.' i rubbed her arm and turned to walk away. she had been a bit embarrassed and looked down, but i was thankful for the chance to speak to her, if only for a moment.
the reality is that all of us have struggles. some of us are good at hiding them, and others of us can't hide them. this sweet girl did nothing wrong..... and yet the women in front of her were more concerned with their own comfort than pausing to think that maybe the noise wasn't meant to be offensive. i was glad i had been there to speak to the mother, not because i am anything wonderful, but because i know from experience how a word of encouragement can spare me from unnecessary pain. i would encourage you to follow that voice that prompts you to smile at the mom who is pushing the cart with a screaming toddler, or to say hello to the elderly man in line behind you checking out with his sardines and toilet paper. to bend over to pick up the piece of paper that the lady walking ahead of you dropped, or to make eye contact as you hold open the door for the family behind you. small moments of connection like this make a world of difference... and as someone who has been scraped raw over the last couple of years, i have to tell you that those moments are healing salve to a tender heart. you absolutely matter.
a few more people came in, found seats, scrolled through their phones,and chatted as they waited for the show to start. the daughter was a little chatty, but while i thought she was a little loud, i wasn't offended in any way. as the previews ended and the movie began, the two women who had sat in front of the girl and her mom made a show of getting up and moving- and sat behind me.
they were annoyed with the girl, and were frustrated that she was making noise during the movie. instead of extending grace, they made it obvious to everyone that they were annoyed.
i was heartbroken.
i had noticed very quickly that the girl was a little different. if i had to guess, i would place her on the autism spectrum. her behavior was normal to me as i live with kids who are on the spectrum. she wasn't overly loud, she wasn't always loud, and i wasn't annoyed with her at all- just aware of her. i knew that when those women moved, that there must have been a reaction of some sort in the heart of the mother... who was being a great mom by bringing her daughter to the movies to spend time with her. the girl was excited, and engaged with the story, and while she had to be shushed by her mother several times during the show, she was never offensive, or over the top in any way. in fact, her innocence and gaiety was pleasing to me. the entire time i was at the showing, i was distracted because i knew that the mother had noticed the actions of the other women. i know from experience that my child's behavior in public might not always be "appropriate" and yet, it's also not always "appropriate" for me to share that with strangers surrounding us who are staring and judging. i've learned after a decade with a special needs child, that ultimately the judgement of strangers matters little in my life story and well being, but sometimes it still stings.
as the movie ended, the girl jumped to her feet and clapped wildly. she told her mother in a very loud whisper that "you stand and clap when you like the movie!" i smiled at her excitement.
i stood up and walked towards the two of them. i looked the mother in the eye and just said- 'you're doing a great job mama.' i rubbed her arm and turned to walk away. she had been a bit embarrassed and looked down, but i was thankful for the chance to speak to her, if only for a moment.
the reality is that all of us have struggles. some of us are good at hiding them, and others of us can't hide them. this sweet girl did nothing wrong..... and yet the women in front of her were more concerned with their own comfort than pausing to think that maybe the noise wasn't meant to be offensive. i was glad i had been there to speak to the mother, not because i am anything wonderful, but because i know from experience how a word of encouragement can spare me from unnecessary pain. i would encourage you to follow that voice that prompts you to smile at the mom who is pushing the cart with a screaming toddler, or to say hello to the elderly man in line behind you checking out with his sardines and toilet paper. to bend over to pick up the piece of paper that the lady walking ahead of you dropped, or to make eye contact as you hold open the door for the family behind you. small moments of connection like this make a world of difference... and as someone who has been scraped raw over the last couple of years, i have to tell you that those moments are healing salve to a tender heart. you absolutely matter.
Monday, November 25, 2013
so thankful
i just got home from picking up food from the kids school. the counselor's office sent home paperwork a few weeks back asking if we needed help for the holidays. i didn't opt into the gift of food for thanksgiving because we didn't really need it. i knew i'd be with my family this past weekend and the kids will be with their dad and his family on thursday. i didn't want to take from others who may need it more than we do. i did opt into the christmas help and am overwhelmed that the school will provide a gift for my children. it's hard sitting here. honestly? it's a giant affront to my pride. it's hard to be in need, and i struggle with where the line is. we have food in the fridge. i have a place to live right now. i am lower than i've ever been, but we're not hungry- so... when is it ok to say 'yes, in fact, we could use some help?' i'm trying to use wisdom and honesty and allow God to fill in the cracks.
there had been a clerical error and a box had been prepared for my family. i got the call today to come and get it, and they were gracious and kind and i didn't feel overly embarrassed.
why is it hard for us to accept help? why is it hard for ME to accept help? a friend emailed recently to ask if she could send a little money to help with christmas. my pride wanted to say 'oh, thank you so much, but we don't need it. we are just fine without any help'. but my mother's heart that wants to be able to give to my children on christmas humbly said 'yes, and thank you ever so much for thinking of us'. we did do operation shoebox this year, one box for a girl, and one for a boy. i want so badly to be able to give, to help, to not be a drain on others... and that was one way i felt that as a family we could make christmastime about something other than what we might receive. it was fun, and my kids enjoyed packing the boxes for children who will get nothing more than what we picked out for them.
but the reality is that we are in a hard season. it's hard for me to admit that a year later we are still in a hard season. it's hard to admit that i can't really do it all alone, and that the help that is given is such a relief and so impactful in our everyday lives. it's hard to go to the school in my north face jacket (that i bought 2 years ago for 30 dollars from a friend) and wonder if there is judgement on their side. it's hard to answer my kids as to why we live in a basement when we used to live in a big home. the whole thing is just so damn hard.
but there are places where i am given the chance to let my head bob above the waves to draw in a deep, gulping gasp of air. places where my heart is given the chance to be still and loved and acknowledged. i wish those moments came more often than they do, but they come, and the sustaining power of that survival instinct gasp allows me to press into the next day, and the next. today i am choosing to be thankful for the food we were given. i vow to give again when and where i can, knowing that when people are hurting, each small act of love and grace and kindness carries much more weight than just a can of soup, or box of pasta... those acts of love and grace remind us, remind me, that i am not alone. that i am not forgotten. that God and others remember that i am struggling and they care enough to ask if they can help. i'm thankful for that help. and maybe a deep gash into my pride is just what i need in order to grow into the woman i want to be.
there had been a clerical error and a box had been prepared for my family. i got the call today to come and get it, and they were gracious and kind and i didn't feel overly embarrassed.
why is it hard for us to accept help? why is it hard for ME to accept help? a friend emailed recently to ask if she could send a little money to help with christmas. my pride wanted to say 'oh, thank you so much, but we don't need it. we are just fine without any help'. but my mother's heart that wants to be able to give to my children on christmas humbly said 'yes, and thank you ever so much for thinking of us'. we did do operation shoebox this year, one box for a girl, and one for a boy. i want so badly to be able to give, to help, to not be a drain on others... and that was one way i felt that as a family we could make christmastime about something other than what we might receive. it was fun, and my kids enjoyed packing the boxes for children who will get nothing more than what we picked out for them.
but the reality is that we are in a hard season. it's hard for me to admit that a year later we are still in a hard season. it's hard to admit that i can't really do it all alone, and that the help that is given is such a relief and so impactful in our everyday lives. it's hard to go to the school in my north face jacket (that i bought 2 years ago for 30 dollars from a friend) and wonder if there is judgement on their side. it's hard to answer my kids as to why we live in a basement when we used to live in a big home. the whole thing is just so damn hard.
but there are places where i am given the chance to let my head bob above the waves to draw in a deep, gulping gasp of air. places where my heart is given the chance to be still and loved and acknowledged. i wish those moments came more often than they do, but they come, and the sustaining power of that survival instinct gasp allows me to press into the next day, and the next. today i am choosing to be thankful for the food we were given. i vow to give again when and where i can, knowing that when people are hurting, each small act of love and grace and kindness carries much more weight than just a can of soup, or box of pasta... those acts of love and grace remind us, remind me, that i am not alone. that i am not forgotten. that God and others remember that i am struggling and they care enough to ask if they can help. i'm thankful for that help. and maybe a deep gash into my pride is just what i need in order to grow into the woman i want to be.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
There is no rescue
do you ever get to the place where you think that there is nothing left? you have nothing else to give? i feel that way often.
parenting 4 children is hard work.. and several of them have challenging issues beyond just kid stuff. add to that the grief of their parents being apart, and you have the perfect storm for chaos, pain, frustration and struggle.
i adore my children.. but the reality is that it can be easy for me to look outside of our family into the surface level of other families and begin to think that we are missing out. it's like looking through a window screen on a sunny day- you can see inside, but you can't make out the details... so i see in others what appears to be fun, functional, normal families, and then i look at my family through the macro lens of our lives and begin to think that we're all doomed, and i'm failing.
i know i'm just getting back into blogging again, and all of this has been heavy, and i promise- i don't always sit here- in fact, i am a perpetual pollyanna which is probably part of the reason i've been able to stay standing over the last year+ instead of rocking back and forth on my bed.
my kids are difficult. we have patterns and behaviors in place that aren't so great. we have codependencies and unhealthy leaning on one another that i know isn't the best for us. but we've been through hell. we've moved twice in the last year. we gave away our family dog. the man in our house is gone. we moved from a 4 bedroom 2000+ sq ft home to an 800 sq ft home with only 2 bedrooms. then- we moved again. living with friends so gracious to us that they are sharing their home with love and grace. the kids have changed schools. we've changed churches. we don't have much income. we got chickens this summer and the neighbor dog thought them tasty treats. we've struggled. we've ached. we've yelled, and cursed, and screamed and cried, and rolled around on the floor. and some nights i thought we might not make it.
grief is tiring. it takes best intentions and wads them up into a wrinkly ball of trash and drops them on the floor. the desire i had yesterday to implement family chores can be decimated today by the sheer weight of the kids emotional neediness. i'm tired. lonely. hurting and frustrated.
it hit me a few weeks back that ... there is no rescue. there is no sound of the cavalry in the distance racing to save me from the stress and struggle. there are no winning lottery tickets being dropped at my door, no maid to clean the mess and no supernanny here to help me start the boot camp for better behavior. it's me. just me. i don't mean to say that no one helps- that's not true. we have people who love us and serve us.. but at the end of the day... i am parenting alone. and that is an overwhelming reality.
i vacillate between believing that we will not only be ok, but be stronger as i lead us all through murky, rapid waters... and then thinking we will all surely drown in the deep with no chance of survival. it is a bipolar existence precariously balanced between utter fear and soaring hope... and i am learning to breathe as i row the boat and work to keep it from capsizing.
the last couple of days have been really challenging. we have highs and lows- like anyone i guess. it feels more intensified in the ever present blanket of grief and pain, but i have hope that we will come through it.
stay with me. i promise i can be funny and witty. but i'm also honest. and this evening... this is where my heart is perching.
parenting 4 children is hard work.. and several of them have challenging issues beyond just kid stuff. add to that the grief of their parents being apart, and you have the perfect storm for chaos, pain, frustration and struggle.
i adore my children.. but the reality is that it can be easy for me to look outside of our family into the surface level of other families and begin to think that we are missing out. it's like looking through a window screen on a sunny day- you can see inside, but you can't make out the details... so i see in others what appears to be fun, functional, normal families, and then i look at my family through the macro lens of our lives and begin to think that we're all doomed, and i'm failing.
i know i'm just getting back into blogging again, and all of this has been heavy, and i promise- i don't always sit here- in fact, i am a perpetual pollyanna which is probably part of the reason i've been able to stay standing over the last year+ instead of rocking back and forth on my bed.
my kids are difficult. we have patterns and behaviors in place that aren't so great. we have codependencies and unhealthy leaning on one another that i know isn't the best for us. but we've been through hell. we've moved twice in the last year. we gave away our family dog. the man in our house is gone. we moved from a 4 bedroom 2000+ sq ft home to an 800 sq ft home with only 2 bedrooms. then- we moved again. living with friends so gracious to us that they are sharing their home with love and grace. the kids have changed schools. we've changed churches. we don't have much income. we got chickens this summer and the neighbor dog thought them tasty treats. we've struggled. we've ached. we've yelled, and cursed, and screamed and cried, and rolled around on the floor. and some nights i thought we might not make it.
grief is tiring. it takes best intentions and wads them up into a wrinkly ball of trash and drops them on the floor. the desire i had yesterday to implement family chores can be decimated today by the sheer weight of the kids emotional neediness. i'm tired. lonely. hurting and frustrated.
it hit me a few weeks back that ... there is no rescue. there is no sound of the cavalry in the distance racing to save me from the stress and struggle. there are no winning lottery tickets being dropped at my door, no maid to clean the mess and no supernanny here to help me start the boot camp for better behavior. it's me. just me. i don't mean to say that no one helps- that's not true. we have people who love us and serve us.. but at the end of the day... i am parenting alone. and that is an overwhelming reality.
i vacillate between believing that we will not only be ok, but be stronger as i lead us all through murky, rapid waters... and then thinking we will all surely drown in the deep with no chance of survival. it is a bipolar existence precariously balanced between utter fear and soaring hope... and i am learning to breathe as i row the boat and work to keep it from capsizing.
the last couple of days have been really challenging. we have highs and lows- like anyone i guess. it feels more intensified in the ever present blanket of grief and pain, but i have hope that we will come through it.
stay with me. i promise i can be funny and witty. but i'm also honest. and this evening... this is where my heart is perching.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
thank you
i could never have imagined that by simply stepping back into the sunlight with my voice trembling and heart open that i would receive the outpouring of love and grace that i have been given. thank you. for that healing love.
the difficult thing with a marriage failing is that no one knows what to do, or what to say, and so a place that already feels painful and suffocating and surreal and lonely can become even more desolate as you watch well meaning church friends or work friends and fringe people in your life begin to back away. grief makes people squirm, and most people shy away from the opportunity to hurt.
i remember when i was a young teenager and my family started going to a new church. there was a mother there whose two year old son had recently drowned. while she felt loved by her friends, family and church, she had a conversation with my mom a few months into our time there. her words have haunted me as i've begun my own grief journey. she said 'people don't know what to do with me. they have stopped coming around, or talking about him. they pull their children close, almost as if they think it is contagious'. i have felt that ache. watching as many discover that my 'beautiful, strong marriage' failed from many hidden sins i never knew existed. they began to look at their own husbands or wives with a measure of fear, worry, and slightly-raised suspicion. they began to rationalize that 'if it could happen to them... it could happen to me'...... logically- i get that. when a child dies, or a seemingly strong marriage collapses... our brains race and flip and stretch and scan, trying to make sense of it all. we desperately want to make sense of it all, and when no sense can be found (as it never can be in the presence of early death or betrayal) a part of us wants to run. to protect the safe space we've created in our hearts, homes, souls, and minds that doesn't allow for that kind of event. being in the presence of a real person who is walking that road can be painful as we get to see first hand the devastation of grief written on their faces, and the faces of their children. it's hard to look into the depth of that pain in others.
but when that happens. when people leave. a beautiful thing happens too. those sweet few. those precious souls who love your soul for exactly what it is, where it is, whenever it is... they stay. they weep. the don't sling worthless, painful words against your spouse as you navigate the tearing apart of hearts and lives. they listen. they give copious amounts of grace and love. not expecting much in return- which is a relief because grief is consuming, and self indulgent, and inwardly focused. but there they are. aching, and fearing and crying and grieving right along with you. and they get the amazing experience of watching you begin to learn you again. begin to see miracles happen even in the face of overwhelming odds. the reality is, that where hope is, miracles can be found in the darkness... and for me, some of the most amazing things have happened through this last year. indescribable. grace in a way that makes me weep with the weight of my unworthiness. and yet. there they are. those precious souls. and there he is, precious God. and somehow, in the dark, and ooze, and ugly, i am just beginning to get a glimpse that there really can be beauty out of ashes.
the difficult thing with a marriage failing is that no one knows what to do, or what to say, and so a place that already feels painful and suffocating and surreal and lonely can become even more desolate as you watch well meaning church friends or work friends and fringe people in your life begin to back away. grief makes people squirm, and most people shy away from the opportunity to hurt.
i remember when i was a young teenager and my family started going to a new church. there was a mother there whose two year old son had recently drowned. while she felt loved by her friends, family and church, she had a conversation with my mom a few months into our time there. her words have haunted me as i've begun my own grief journey. she said 'people don't know what to do with me. they have stopped coming around, or talking about him. they pull their children close, almost as if they think it is contagious'. i have felt that ache. watching as many discover that my 'beautiful, strong marriage' failed from many hidden sins i never knew existed. they began to look at their own husbands or wives with a measure of fear, worry, and slightly-raised suspicion. they began to rationalize that 'if it could happen to them... it could happen to me'...... logically- i get that. when a child dies, or a seemingly strong marriage collapses... our brains race and flip and stretch and scan, trying to make sense of it all. we desperately want to make sense of it all, and when no sense can be found (as it never can be in the presence of early death or betrayal) a part of us wants to run. to protect the safe space we've created in our hearts, homes, souls, and minds that doesn't allow for that kind of event. being in the presence of a real person who is walking that road can be painful as we get to see first hand the devastation of grief written on their faces, and the faces of their children. it's hard to look into the depth of that pain in others.
but when that happens. when people leave. a beautiful thing happens too. those sweet few. those precious souls who love your soul for exactly what it is, where it is, whenever it is... they stay. they weep. the don't sling worthless, painful words against your spouse as you navigate the tearing apart of hearts and lives. they listen. they give copious amounts of grace and love. not expecting much in return- which is a relief because grief is consuming, and self indulgent, and inwardly focused. but there they are. aching, and fearing and crying and grieving right along with you. and they get the amazing experience of watching you begin to learn you again. begin to see miracles happen even in the face of overwhelming odds. the reality is, that where hope is, miracles can be found in the darkness... and for me, some of the most amazing things have happened through this last year. indescribable. grace in a way that makes me weep with the weight of my unworthiness. and yet. there they are. those precious souls. and there he is, precious God. and somehow, in the dark, and ooze, and ugly, i am just beginning to get a glimpse that there really can be beauty out of ashes.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Here
i have been stuck. i'm tired of being stuck. i still write. often. because that is what writers do. we write. we have to. we can't not.
but i don't write here. and i've been so frustrated with myself for not showing up here, because here is where i get to connect with you, and here is where i want to be.
it hit me tonight.
i haven't been here, because i'm not being authentic. i have been writing on paper where it is safe, and where nothing has to be shared or explained, i can just be heather. broken. motivated. shattered. hopeful. but here? i have to pretend. protect. evade. and i just don't have the energy for that anymore.
so.
i'm taking care of business today. i'm punching fear in the face so that i can drag my weary soul out of stuck and bring it here. where i can share. be heather. broken. motivated. shattered. hopeful.
i have a secret.
i didn't mean for it to be a secret. it sort of became one because life is messy and painful and jagged, and slippery, and when do you ever think that you will wind up here? and when you wind up here, how do you tell people you are here? so. here is my secret.
i have been separated from my husband for more than a year.
i said it.
it's out now. i'm not taking it back.
how do you share that? there are no announcements from shutterfly to say that 'we're separated!' there are no delicate and non dramatic ways to post it on facebook. and so... those who are in my regular life know, some on the fringes know, and some will be shocked. but this is my reality. i am a single mother, this year has been hell on earth, and i don't see any sign of relief.
i have struggled with writing here, and have allowed the cotton mouthed feeling of fear to stop my waterfall of words with its soul sucking power. i have been afraid to wound my children should they ever read my writing in the future. i'm afraid for people to pity me. i'm afraid to hurt him, even though so many hurtful things have been done to us. i'm a dramatic person, but i don't like drama. i won't go on facebook and share the hurts of my heart at his hand because it does nothing but make me look small and create drama. i have to admit that there is a small part of me that would like to tell you some of what has happened, to hopefully 'get you on my side' and hope that maybe you will judge me a bit less, and maybe feel more gracious towards me- but really? that shouldn't matter. i should be able to show up and say that i am not with my husband, i have been deeply wounded, i am afraid, i am parenting 4 children alone, this is really hard...... and find space for my heart to rest. even without all of the painful, ugly, rancid details.
so. my secret is exposed. i feel freedom to write again. because now you can relate to me where i am.. and i won't have to bend and maneuver my words to protect the secret any longer. it can float free and my words can swim effortlessly around the truth. bringing relief to my heart. clarity to my mind. and maybe even some healing to you.
i am overjoyed at the thought of being here again and writing from my raw heart. i have so very much to share. hard things. amazing things you can't even fathom. things of God's goodness that seem only to show up when the depth of the pit is so deep that only the hand of God can pull you out. thank you for indulging me. thank you for staying in my silence. even over years. this blog that has long sat dead, waiting for me to take back life again will change and grow over the next weeks and months. for now- this is the start.
i'm back. here.
but i don't write here. and i've been so frustrated with myself for not showing up here, because here is where i get to connect with you, and here is where i want to be.
it hit me tonight.
i haven't been here, because i'm not being authentic. i have been writing on paper where it is safe, and where nothing has to be shared or explained, i can just be heather. broken. motivated. shattered. hopeful. but here? i have to pretend. protect. evade. and i just don't have the energy for that anymore.
so.
i'm taking care of business today. i'm punching fear in the face so that i can drag my weary soul out of stuck and bring it here. where i can share. be heather. broken. motivated. shattered. hopeful.
i have a secret.
i didn't mean for it to be a secret. it sort of became one because life is messy and painful and jagged, and slippery, and when do you ever think that you will wind up here? and when you wind up here, how do you tell people you are here? so. here is my secret.
i have been separated from my husband for more than a year.
i said it.
it's out now. i'm not taking it back.
how do you share that? there are no announcements from shutterfly to say that 'we're separated!' there are no delicate and non dramatic ways to post it on facebook. and so... those who are in my regular life know, some on the fringes know, and some will be shocked. but this is my reality. i am a single mother, this year has been hell on earth, and i don't see any sign of relief.
i have struggled with writing here, and have allowed the cotton mouthed feeling of fear to stop my waterfall of words with its soul sucking power. i have been afraid to wound my children should they ever read my writing in the future. i'm afraid for people to pity me. i'm afraid to hurt him, even though so many hurtful things have been done to us. i'm a dramatic person, but i don't like drama. i won't go on facebook and share the hurts of my heart at his hand because it does nothing but make me look small and create drama. i have to admit that there is a small part of me that would like to tell you some of what has happened, to hopefully 'get you on my side' and hope that maybe you will judge me a bit less, and maybe feel more gracious towards me- but really? that shouldn't matter. i should be able to show up and say that i am not with my husband, i have been deeply wounded, i am afraid, i am parenting 4 children alone, this is really hard...... and find space for my heart to rest. even without all of the painful, ugly, rancid details.
so. my secret is exposed. i feel freedom to write again. because now you can relate to me where i am.. and i won't have to bend and maneuver my words to protect the secret any longer. it can float free and my words can swim effortlessly around the truth. bringing relief to my heart. clarity to my mind. and maybe even some healing to you.
i am overjoyed at the thought of being here again and writing from my raw heart. i have so very much to share. hard things. amazing things you can't even fathom. things of God's goodness that seem only to show up when the depth of the pit is so deep that only the hand of God can pull you out. thank you for indulging me. thank you for staying in my silence. even over years. this blog that has long sat dead, waiting for me to take back life again will change and grow over the next weeks and months. for now- this is the start.
i'm back. here.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Naked Soul
I have always had good friends. Like, good friends. Friends who jump into the mess with me and help me keep my head above the water as it rises.
Yesterday my long time BFF came to visit. I showed her around the new place and we settled into the worn couches for some girl talk. She's a born counselor, and I feel badly at times, because it's so easy to share my heart with her... and really let go. She shares too, and gets vulnerable and deep right along with me, but she has a way of making space for my real soul to show up and get naked.
This has been a hard year. I've been separated for almost a year now, and while some things have gotten easier, some things have gotten harder, and in many ways, some of the grief is just now settling into my weary, fleshy, mashed-up heart. She made space for me to talk through some of my frustration, and held my eyes and heart with her grace while words poured out like blood from a gash. She let my ugly moments sit in the sacredness of her attention, and she allowed it to rest. I heard myself. Do you have friends like that? When you actually hear your own heart mirrored back to you and those amazing clarity filled moments crack into your headspace like a shooting star on a crisp night? That was one of those moments. I felt the weight of the recognition of decades of pain shoot into the center of my heart where I could see it, feel it, acknowledge it and give it the attention it needed. I saw her eyes alight to the realization that this was happening and she talked me through it as I dug out what needed to be said. It was powerful, grace-filled, and sacred. I dropped barrels full of emotional baggage in that room as we sifted through shards of pain and recognition that I had never seen before. As we unpacked it together... I saw myself more clearly... she was handing me my truest self as a gift- urging me to love me, and be tender with me, and protect me.
I've had the blessing of having had several of these friends through my life. Some are no longer active in my life, some are related to me by blood or marriage, some I rarely see but talk to often, and others have sporadic connection in the day to day circumstance. But... I have those who are willing to give grace to my heart, my work, my efforts at growing. I have no idea where I would be without them. They sing me the anthem of my heart when I lose my way.... they champion my effort forward into healing and destiny, and they give grace in heaping doses. I pray you have someone like this in your life.. but if you don't.. that you would think about how to be vulnerable with the right person, or pray for that friend.. or begin to be that friend. My friends are truly my on-earth saving grace... and I am rich with their love.
Yesterday my long time BFF came to visit. I showed her around the new place and we settled into the worn couches for some girl talk. She's a born counselor, and I feel badly at times, because it's so easy to share my heart with her... and really let go. She shares too, and gets vulnerable and deep right along with me, but she has a way of making space for my real soul to show up and get naked.
This has been a hard year. I've been separated for almost a year now, and while some things have gotten easier, some things have gotten harder, and in many ways, some of the grief is just now settling into my weary, fleshy, mashed-up heart. She made space for me to talk through some of my frustration, and held my eyes and heart with her grace while words poured out like blood from a gash. She let my ugly moments sit in the sacredness of her attention, and she allowed it to rest. I heard myself. Do you have friends like that? When you actually hear your own heart mirrored back to you and those amazing clarity filled moments crack into your headspace like a shooting star on a crisp night? That was one of those moments. I felt the weight of the recognition of decades of pain shoot into the center of my heart where I could see it, feel it, acknowledge it and give it the attention it needed. I saw her eyes alight to the realization that this was happening and she talked me through it as I dug out what needed to be said. It was powerful, grace-filled, and sacred. I dropped barrels full of emotional baggage in that room as we sifted through shards of pain and recognition that I had never seen before. As we unpacked it together... I saw myself more clearly... she was handing me my truest self as a gift- urging me to love me, and be tender with me, and protect me.
I've had the blessing of having had several of these friends through my life. Some are no longer active in my life, some are related to me by blood or marriage, some I rarely see but talk to often, and others have sporadic connection in the day to day circumstance. But... I have those who are willing to give grace to my heart, my work, my efforts at growing. I have no idea where I would be without them. They sing me the anthem of my heart when I lose my way.... they champion my effort forward into healing and destiny, and they give grace in heaping doses. I pray you have someone like this in your life.. but if you don't.. that you would think about how to be vulnerable with the right person, or pray for that friend.. or begin to be that friend. My friends are truly my on-earth saving grace... and I am rich with their love.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
New Start
I'm stepping into a new venture today. I have a life coach. The way it's come about is pretty amazing, but the end result is that I'm getting time and energy from someone... for no cost. I'm so humbled and blessed that she chose me. I have several dreams and ideas that I'd like to see come to fruition, and I could use the help in keeping me focused and aware of what needs to be done.
I struggle with focus. I tend to be a dreamer... and while I'm not lazy, I do have a hard time getting things pushed through all the way to the end. I get caught up in the details, or overwhelmed, or distracted, and my best intentions wither and crumple and fall to the ground into the pile of other well meaning ideas. I'm hopeful that with her accountability and structure, that I can get past the hump of fear and boredom and move into that place where I begin to see fruit come from the things I desire to do. I want my life to matter. And I need to provide. To me, those things can coincide.. and I want to make the effort to have that happen.
She had me start with the Myer's Brigg's personality indicator. I've done it multiple times before and have always typed out as an ENFP. I was curious to see if that would stay true in light of the stress I've been under for so long, or if anything would change. I wound up still being an ENFP.
If you've never heard of Myer's Brigg's, I would highly encourage you to take the indicator. It can be found here: http://www.humanmetrics.com It's an amazing tool to begin to understand yourself more, and why and how you do the things that you do.
In a nutshell ENFP's are:
ENFPs are both "idea"-people and "people"-people, who see everyone and everything as part of a cosmic whole. They want to both help and to be liked and admired by other people, on both an individual and a humanitarian level. This is rarely a problem for the ENFP, as they are outgoing and warm, and genuinely like people. Some ENFPs have a great deal of zany charm, which can ingratiate them to more stodgy types in spite of their unconventionality. (Typelogic.com)
I struggle with focus. I tend to be a dreamer... and while I'm not lazy, I do have a hard time getting things pushed through all the way to the end. I get caught up in the details, or overwhelmed, or distracted, and my best intentions wither and crumple and fall to the ground into the pile of other well meaning ideas. I'm hopeful that with her accountability and structure, that I can get past the hump of fear and boredom and move into that place where I begin to see fruit come from the things I desire to do. I want my life to matter. And I need to provide. To me, those things can coincide.. and I want to make the effort to have that happen.
She had me start with the Myer's Brigg's personality indicator. I've done it multiple times before and have always typed out as an ENFP. I was curious to see if that would stay true in light of the stress I've been under for so long, or if anything would change. I wound up still being an ENFP.
If you've never heard of Myer's Brigg's, I would highly encourage you to take the indicator. It can be found here: http://www.humanmetrics.com It's an amazing tool to begin to understand yourself more, and why and how you do the things that you do.
In a nutshell ENFP's are:
ENFPs are both "idea"-people and "people"-people, who see everyone and everything as part of a cosmic whole. They want to both help and to be liked and admired by other people, on both an individual and a humanitarian level. This is rarely a problem for the ENFP, as they are outgoing and warm, and genuinely like people. Some ENFPs have a great deal of zany charm, which can ingratiate them to more stodgy types in spite of their unconventionality. (Typelogic.com)
I'm interested to see where this goes. I hope the time spent with her will translate itself into movement forward here in my day to day life. I'll let you know.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
bigger than me
I'm in a place where i need God to be big. bigger than I've ever seen Him. i need to be able to provide for my family over the next year (and beyond) in ways i never dreamed I'd be providing.
I have always been an anxious person. Worry was a way of life for me. I spent a huge part of my life projecting into the future and planning out each road that life may possibly take. Now, I am in a season where there isn't much I have control over. I am being forced to live each day as it comes, and enjoy that day for what it is.
I am blessed to be living in a place now where my living costs are down. But, by next spring (summer at the latest) my expenses will go up quite drastically, and I have to figure out how to pay the bills.
The incredible thing is that I can see the thread of His provision throughout my entire life.. and over this last year He has come on strong in such incredible ways that I can't doubt his care for me. I know without a doubt that He has made a way for me through this year. I've kept a notebook of the amazing ways He has provided, and they knock my socks off. One day, I'll share some of them here...
the incredible thing is that because I have seen Him make a way so practically and perfectly over this last year, my anxiety is almost nonexistent. On paper, I know I should be terrified, but deep in the dark places of my soul where fear and doubt try to dwell, I have solid peace. Knowing that though this is bigger than me, it will be ok. I remember telling Him in prayer one evening when I didn't know where I would be living and needed to find a place quickly, that because things were so desperate, I knew without a doubt that the way out would have to be through Him. He didn't disappoint. He created a scenario for me and my kids that has been better than I could have manufactured on my own. I'm blown away by the way He has cared for the details, and am overwhelmed with the knowledge that this newest need is not lost on Him. I can't wait to see where it leads, and I know again, that however I get out of this will be clearly an act of God. We'll watch and see.
I have always been an anxious person. Worry was a way of life for me. I spent a huge part of my life projecting into the future and planning out each road that life may possibly take. Now, I am in a season where there isn't much I have control over. I am being forced to live each day as it comes, and enjoy that day for what it is.
I am blessed to be living in a place now where my living costs are down. But, by next spring (summer at the latest) my expenses will go up quite drastically, and I have to figure out how to pay the bills.
The incredible thing is that I can see the thread of His provision throughout my entire life.. and over this last year He has come on strong in such incredible ways that I can't doubt his care for me. I know without a doubt that He has made a way for me through this year. I've kept a notebook of the amazing ways He has provided, and they knock my socks off. One day, I'll share some of them here...
the incredible thing is that because I have seen Him make a way so practically and perfectly over this last year, my anxiety is almost nonexistent. On paper, I know I should be terrified, but deep in the dark places of my soul where fear and doubt try to dwell, I have solid peace. Knowing that though this is bigger than me, it will be ok. I remember telling Him in prayer one evening when I didn't know where I would be living and needed to find a place quickly, that because things were so desperate, I knew without a doubt that the way out would have to be through Him. He didn't disappoint. He created a scenario for me and my kids that has been better than I could have manufactured on my own. I'm blown away by the way He has cared for the details, and am overwhelmed with the knowledge that this newest need is not lost on Him. I can't wait to see where it leads, and I know again, that however I get out of this will be clearly an act of God. We'll watch and see.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
why we write
We write to normalize ourselves. To hold up the fabric of our lives to others to see if we're normal, okay, or good enough. We long for that acceptance. To be assured that we are enough. We need that understanding, or that nod to our suffering. We are desperate to know that there is more to come, fuller experience, greater love. Writing allows us to put it out there-to lay bare that which often needs to be said, and yet can't stand under the sound of the voice. It sits, stays, gives us the chance to look again; absorb, and understand more deeply than we can through words just spoken into silence.
When I write, there is a flow of emotion and thought that doesn't usually get hammered out properly in my head. There is some obstacle in thought alone, and the discipline of writing allows the thought process to work its way out straight, giving me a glimpse at where i am emotionally and spiritually. I learn about myself. i see things more clearly and am often surprised at what i discover.
When I write, there is a flow of emotion and thought that doesn't usually get hammered out properly in my head. There is some obstacle in thought alone, and the discipline of writing allows the thought process to work its way out straight, giving me a glimpse at where i am emotionally and spiritually. I learn about myself. i see things more clearly and am often surprised at what i discover.
Monday, August 12, 2013
I have so many posts waiting to be finished.. things i want to say.. but i'm not sure i'm ready yet. so they wait. and my blog sits silent. the reality is that i'm NOT being silent... behind closed doors. so today? i just want to be able to lay my head on my pillow and know that i posted something for the public. it's not life changing, or witty, or even something that pulls at your heart. but i'm here. writing. working up the courage to live a more public life once again... letting you in in ways that might challenge you in your own struggles. please come back. i will be here. i have so very much to say.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
educational fun
i went on a field trip with my son's 5th grade class yesterday. we live near washington, dc so we often find ourselves in one of the many museums, or somewhere in the city. i enjoy dc, and there certainly is a lot to see, do and learn, but it's intense, often crowded, and i usually feel that the field trips are spent herding hyper kids instead of really learning.
this week we went to stradford hall. i am from central va, and had never even heard of it. stradford hall is where robert e. lee was born, and is a plantation that has been restored and preserved. i had an amazing time. i was hesitant to go, as i assumed it would be another chaotic trip with little value outside of just time spent with my son- but it wound up being wonderful. it was an hour and a half drive, and it's located in the middle of nowhere. there are more than 2,000 acres of beautiful, rolling green pastures, and it's flanked by forest.
we went on a tour of the great house and part of the grounds. the kids got to sit in the schoolroom and be berated by the schoolmaster in full costume. it was fun watching them try to decide if she was being serious or not. they got to sign a contract with quills, and wash clothes with a scrub board. they had a short lecture on fossils (the plantation is by the potomac river and there are many fossils that wash up on the shores there) and then top off the day by hiking down to the river and looking for sharks teeth. they were engaged, they learned some fun trivia, and had a really fun time. i'm so glad i was able to be there with them. i thoroughly enjoyed it! we plan on going back as a family and taking the full private tour, fishing some, and looking for more shark's teeth. if you live around here- you should absolutely check it out!
http://www.stratfordhall.org/
this week we went to stradford hall. i am from central va, and had never even heard of it. stradford hall is where robert e. lee was born, and is a plantation that has been restored and preserved. i had an amazing time. i was hesitant to go, as i assumed it would be another chaotic trip with little value outside of just time spent with my son- but it wound up being wonderful. it was an hour and a half drive, and it's located in the middle of nowhere. there are more than 2,000 acres of beautiful, rolling green pastures, and it's flanked by forest.
we went on a tour of the great house and part of the grounds. the kids got to sit in the schoolroom and be berated by the schoolmaster in full costume. it was fun watching them try to decide if she was being serious or not. they got to sign a contract with quills, and wash clothes with a scrub board. they had a short lecture on fossils (the plantation is by the potomac river and there are many fossils that wash up on the shores there) and then top off the day by hiking down to the river and looking for sharks teeth. they were engaged, they learned some fun trivia, and had a really fun time. i'm so glad i was able to be there with them. i thoroughly enjoyed it! we plan on going back as a family and taking the full private tour, fishing some, and looking for more shark's teeth. if you live around here- you should absolutely check it out!
http://www.stratfordhall.org/
Friday, April 19, 2013
pink: the philosopher
i've alluded a bit to the fact that my marriage is not in a good place. i've been separated for right about 6 months now. that's hard to look at in black and white. never in a million years would i have ever believed that i would be where i am today. we both come from intact families- parents who are still married- for more than 40 years. but, he lost his way. maybe he never had direction to begin with. i'm not sure. i discovered on a painful day in october of last year that most everything i thought to be real, was really a lie. he had slipped down a dangerous road of self preservation, and it led deeper and deeper into deceit. he finally self destructed, and all of it came pouring out, like pus from a wound. oozing, and sticky, hard to look away from, and disgusting to see. it seared my heart, it changed my life, and my future. my world view, and my family will never ever be the same again.
healing can be slow. slower than i'd like. but, i really want to heal from the inside out, not scab up for the immediate relief that later gashes open and pours red and ugly- but really heal. scarring up with soft, pink flesh that is healthy, strong, a forever reminder of the road i've traveled. many things contribute to my healing.... and music has been a part. i adore the artist pink. i love that she says things many of us are thinking but might be afraid to share. i know she's edgy, sometimes raw, but i feel like she's authentic. that means a lot to me. i don't like flashy, or edgy for sensationalism's sake- but pink is out there. honestly. one of her recent songs could have been written by my own hand. i like to sing it loudly in the car, and let the soothing, healing balm of words carried on melody touch my heart. the song i love is called simply 'try'. you can hear it here, on youtube.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pPtlSF4TlJE
the lyrics are perfect for me...
try
ever wonder 'bout what he's doin'
how it all turned to lies
sometimes i think that it's better
to never ask why
(chorus)
where there is desire
there is gonna be a flame
where there is a flame
someones bound to get burned
but just because it burns doesn't mean you're gonna die
you've gotta get up and try, try, try
you gotta get up and try, try, try
funny how the heart can be deceiving
more than just a couple times
why do we fall in love so easy
even when it's not right
chorus
ever worry that it might be ruined
does it make you wanna cry
when you're out there doin what you're doin
are you just getting by
tell me are you just getting by, by, by
chorus
healing can be slow. slower than i'd like. but, i really want to heal from the inside out, not scab up for the immediate relief that later gashes open and pours red and ugly- but really heal. scarring up with soft, pink flesh that is healthy, strong, a forever reminder of the road i've traveled. many things contribute to my healing.... and music has been a part. i adore the artist pink. i love that she says things many of us are thinking but might be afraid to share. i know she's edgy, sometimes raw, but i feel like she's authentic. that means a lot to me. i don't like flashy, or edgy for sensationalism's sake- but pink is out there. honestly. one of her recent songs could have been written by my own hand. i like to sing it loudly in the car, and let the soothing, healing balm of words carried on melody touch my heart. the song i love is called simply 'try'. you can hear it here, on youtube.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pPtlSF4TlJE
the lyrics are perfect for me...
try
ever wonder 'bout what he's doin'
how it all turned to lies
sometimes i think that it's better
to never ask why
(chorus)
where there is desire
there is gonna be a flame
where there is a flame
someones bound to get burned
but just because it burns doesn't mean you're gonna die
you've gotta get up and try, try, try
you gotta get up and try, try, try
funny how the heart can be deceiving
more than just a couple times
why do we fall in love so easy
even when it's not right
chorus
ever worry that it might be ruined
does it make you wanna cry
when you're out there doin what you're doin
are you just getting by
tell me are you just getting by, by, by
chorus
Thursday, April 18, 2013
more than you ever wanted to know.. about ME!
i thought i'd share a little about me!
i don't know about you- but usually when i go to a blog, or when i'm reading a book, i like to scour the 'about me' section. i like it when there are photos, and i love it when there is more than just a list of "mother, wife, writer, loves coffee'. i like it when writers add something in the description that tells me a little more about who they are- what they enjoy doing- more than just drinking coffee and reading books. i already assume that- we're writers. what would life
be without the black inkiness of coffee and the sustenance of other people's words?!
like anyone i suppose, there are many layers to me- but i'd love to share just a bit with you.
the obvious is that i'm a mother. i have four children - my oldest, a son, is 11. the next in line is also a son and he's almost 8. third comes the last son, and he is 6. my baby is a daughter and she is closing in on 5. i've moved out of baby land and into full-on kid world, and parenting life is simultaneously wonderful and the most difficult thing i ever do. right now, i'm a single mother. biggest shock of my life. i've been married for 13 years, still am married, but in october of last year, a day changed my life forever. due to a series of challenging events, my husband expunged information he had been hiding for our entire relationship. news that i never dreamed was sitting below the surface. news that continued to trickle out over the next almost 5 months as i withstood wave after wave of pain and grief. we aren't living together. i don't know what the future holds. many things are unknown right now, but i am here, doing the work, being present. learning to function in a role i never wanted or expected i'd be filling. but i'm proud of myself.
my sons seem to have some struggles. my oldest is diagnosed with asperger's syndrome (on the autism spectrum) as well as adhd. my middle son looks like he is probably on the spectrum as well- we see a specialist next week- and my youngest son is absolutely adhd. my daughter? she's just sassy and hyper. i used to be judgemental about families with multiple children struggling with mental/behavioral/emotional difficulties. i made assumptions about the parents that sting me now. the reality is, nothing i've done has caused this. and nothing i do can 'fix' it. my sons are amazing people, and they are also complicated, and challenging. some days are pure chaos from the overwhelming sensory needs, social misunderstandings, and brain struggles. i'll talk more on this as time goes by.
my husband was a marine- so for my entire marriage, i was a military wife. i have friends scattered all over the world, and miss the marine corps with all of my heart. it's a special family, and after 13 years, i'm sad that we're no longer a part of it.
by myer's briggs standards, i'm an enfp. look it up if you don't know what that means- it's good stuff. basically that means that i think too much, i am sometimes loud, emotional, hyper, not so organized, creative, fun, moody... to list a few.
i'm 35- and not afraid to admit that. while it's going entirely too fast, i'm not embarrassed of my age, and not overly afraid of aging. i'm proud of who i'm becoming- and that has taken time. prayerfully in 10 more years, i'll be that much further along in my capability to love, and serve, and grow.
while i'm not big on astrology, i am a gemini- the twins- meaning i have a 'double personality'- and, i have to admit- it fits. i simultaneously love anne of green gables, and band of brothers. i love healthy, green, organic food- and junk food too. i like to read deep, educational books, and adore lots of reality tv. maybe all of that balances me out. yeah, let's go with that.
i'm honest. i say things that sometimes make people squirm. i ask hard questions. i love fiercely, have a quick temper (which makes me sad), and am learning how to really cry. i like makeup and dresses, but love to hike and get dirty. i can be flaky, but there's nothing i love more than a conversation that dives into the deep- emotionally, theologically, and topically. i like to be with people, but i also love alone time.
that's enough for now. if you stay, you'll learn more. my heart will begin to fill up the screen again. i used to blog. daily. for about 4 years. i loved interacting with my readers, and hope that i can build some of that again. i aim to speak about hard things- my separation, God, parenting, mental illness, but i also hope to share silly things too. write to me- tell me who you are. i love to meet new people.
much love my fellow storm dwellers!
-H
i don't know about you- but usually when i go to a blog, or when i'm reading a book, i like to scour the 'about me' section. i like it when there are photos, and i love it when there is more than just a list of "mother, wife, writer, loves coffee'. i like it when writers add something in the description that tells me a little more about who they are- what they enjoy doing- more than just drinking coffee and reading books. i already assume that- we're writers. what would life
be without the black inkiness of coffee and the sustenance of other people's words?!
like anyone i suppose, there are many layers to me- but i'd love to share just a bit with you.
the obvious is that i'm a mother. i have four children - my oldest, a son, is 11. the next in line is also a son and he's almost 8. third comes the last son, and he is 6. my baby is a daughter and she is closing in on 5. i've moved out of baby land and into full-on kid world, and parenting life is simultaneously wonderful and the most difficult thing i ever do. right now, i'm a single mother. biggest shock of my life. i've been married for 13 years, still am married, but in october of last year, a day changed my life forever. due to a series of challenging events, my husband expunged information he had been hiding for our entire relationship. news that i never dreamed was sitting below the surface. news that continued to trickle out over the next almost 5 months as i withstood wave after wave of pain and grief. we aren't living together. i don't know what the future holds. many things are unknown right now, but i am here, doing the work, being present. learning to function in a role i never wanted or expected i'd be filling. but i'm proud of myself.
my sons seem to have some struggles. my oldest is diagnosed with asperger's syndrome (on the autism spectrum) as well as adhd. my middle son looks like he is probably on the spectrum as well- we see a specialist next week- and my youngest son is absolutely adhd. my daughter? she's just sassy and hyper. i used to be judgemental about families with multiple children struggling with mental/behavioral/emotional difficulties. i made assumptions about the parents that sting me now. the reality is, nothing i've done has caused this. and nothing i do can 'fix' it. my sons are amazing people, and they are also complicated, and challenging. some days are pure chaos from the overwhelming sensory needs, social misunderstandings, and brain struggles. i'll talk more on this as time goes by.
my husband was a marine- so for my entire marriage, i was a military wife. i have friends scattered all over the world, and miss the marine corps with all of my heart. it's a special family, and after 13 years, i'm sad that we're no longer a part of it.
by myer's briggs standards, i'm an enfp. look it up if you don't know what that means- it's good stuff. basically that means that i think too much, i am sometimes loud, emotional, hyper, not so organized, creative, fun, moody... to list a few.
i'm 35- and not afraid to admit that. while it's going entirely too fast, i'm not embarrassed of my age, and not overly afraid of aging. i'm proud of who i'm becoming- and that has taken time. prayerfully in 10 more years, i'll be that much further along in my capability to love, and serve, and grow.
while i'm not big on astrology, i am a gemini- the twins- meaning i have a 'double personality'- and, i have to admit- it fits. i simultaneously love anne of green gables, and band of brothers. i love healthy, green, organic food- and junk food too. i like to read deep, educational books, and adore lots of reality tv. maybe all of that balances me out. yeah, let's go with that.
i'm honest. i say things that sometimes make people squirm. i ask hard questions. i love fiercely, have a quick temper (which makes me sad), and am learning how to really cry. i like makeup and dresses, but love to hike and get dirty. i can be flaky, but there's nothing i love more than a conversation that dives into the deep- emotionally, theologically, and topically. i like to be with people, but i also love alone time.
that's enough for now. if you stay, you'll learn more. my heart will begin to fill up the screen again. i used to blog. daily. for about 4 years. i loved interacting with my readers, and hope that i can build some of that again. i aim to speak about hard things- my separation, God, parenting, mental illness, but i also hope to share silly things too. write to me- tell me who you are. i love to meet new people.
much love my fellow storm dwellers!
-H
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Showing Up
Usually when I sit down to write, i have some idea of where i'm going to take it. today- no clue. my brain is fried, i'm very tired, and i'd like to go to bed. but i have more work to do, and want to keep writing because part of the struggle as a writer is to just show up. each day. over and over. writing. pouring heart and soul and fluff and deep onto the screen. splash across with many words in order to mine out the nugget that is waiting in the dark ready to be unearthed.
so today, i write. for writing's sake.
my friend found a job for me to apply for. i need to get a job, as i need to help support my family now. it's a writing job, right here in my town, and i am qualified for it. my paralysis comes from the actual resume writing. how i wish i could just write an essay about how i'd be the best suited for the job... given the chance to weave words around my story and let them see my heart and strengths. unfortunately for me, resumes are intended to be an at-a-glance look at who i am and what i have to offer. so, my writing to impress the people at the writing job will have to be succinct and strong. i pray i can do it.
just yesterday i timidly told God that i wanted to write. i wanted to be able to support my family with words, but that i recognized that it sounds frivolous and far fetched. easier to call myself a waitress, or a receptionist... those are tangible things. writing is open ended.. has no real boundaries... anyone can claim to be a writer- so, it's frightening to think that by the use of language that i might be able to feed my children. i said i wanted to write, but i knew that if i am able to, it will be by his hand. he will have to open doors and shine the light telling me 'walk this way'. through fear and doubt, i told him i would write what he would have me write- but to please bring the opportunity. this morning i awoke to the job ad from my friend. i love those moments. the ones with the big flashing arrows that point the way. i realize that this might not be my job in the end, but i don't think it a coincidence that i asked for opportunity and hours later one was laid in my lap.
i'll keep you posted. i need to stop stalling and work on my resume. glad i was given a shove.
so today, i write. for writing's sake.
my friend found a job for me to apply for. i need to get a job, as i need to help support my family now. it's a writing job, right here in my town, and i am qualified for it. my paralysis comes from the actual resume writing. how i wish i could just write an essay about how i'd be the best suited for the job... given the chance to weave words around my story and let them see my heart and strengths. unfortunately for me, resumes are intended to be an at-a-glance look at who i am and what i have to offer. so, my writing to impress the people at the writing job will have to be succinct and strong. i pray i can do it.
just yesterday i timidly told God that i wanted to write. i wanted to be able to support my family with words, but that i recognized that it sounds frivolous and far fetched. easier to call myself a waitress, or a receptionist... those are tangible things. writing is open ended.. has no real boundaries... anyone can claim to be a writer- so, it's frightening to think that by the use of language that i might be able to feed my children. i said i wanted to write, but i knew that if i am able to, it will be by his hand. he will have to open doors and shine the light telling me 'walk this way'. through fear and doubt, i told him i would write what he would have me write- but to please bring the opportunity. this morning i awoke to the job ad from my friend. i love those moments. the ones with the big flashing arrows that point the way. i realize that this might not be my job in the end, but i don't think it a coincidence that i asked for opportunity and hours later one was laid in my lap.
i'll keep you posted. i need to stop stalling and work on my resume. glad i was given a shove.
Monday, April 15, 2013
It's a Brutiful Life
wonderful. lovely. dropped my children off at school this morning after a morning filled with fighting, yelling and hurt. it started off as any other morning, but my oldest was tired, and not happy with me waking him up for school. i let him sleep in a bit- but he was still frustrated, and in short order, he had everyone here whipped up into an emotional frenzy. he was focusing in on my next son, which is a common occurrence. after he went after him several times, and i had scolded him and tried to redirect him several times, he went after him again and hit him. my middle son then cried out in desperation, 'mom, please can i be in another family. please. i want to be in a different family.' he was sobbing, and my heart was shredded. this is mental illness. this is the face of the pain it can inject into families. this is the fallout of a brain that works differently than others do. the pain that those words seared into my heart won't soon lessen. i looked back at my oldest son and yelled- 'do you see what you're doing to him?! your bullying is killing his spirit!' my middle son just sobbed as he clung to my leg, and i stood in the middle of the storm wanting to die. wanting a do-over. wishing that i could somehow change, or stop or reverse the struggle we've had for so many years.
my oldest blinked- recognizing to some degree that he had hurt both me and his brother- i know he didn't mean to, and hurting our hearts wasn't his intention- but it was the result of his anger, his impulse, his irritation. the saddest part is that my angry response to him, provoked by the hurting heart of my middle son, poured acid into his soul. i hate this cycle. i hate that i'm not more patient. mature. gracious. i hate that i get so angry, and so hurt, and am so easily jerked around by his mood.
the truth is, that my anger isn't really with him. i hate the behavior, and i get angry about the drama it creates in our home, but I'm not angry with him as my son. sadly, i don't think that's the message he hears. i try hard not to stab with my words- words that would make me feel justified in the moment, but that would create a crust of oozing pain over his heart. but i do yell. i try so hard not to... and then he hits his brother, and through the broken hymn of a shattered heart, my mama bear instinct kicks in and i yell to defend the wounded. it's a sick dance we share, and one that is often repeated multiple times in a day.
it's night now. i started this early this morning. when the pain was fresh, and the hurt was raw. i wound up writing him a letter telling him what i need him to hear. that i love him, that i am proud of him, and that i hate our fighting. he received it well... then on his own went to his brother to apologize and to tell him that he loves him. thankful for those victories. it's messy here. if you stick around, you'll begin to see- but it is also beautiful. as momastary blogger Glennon Melton says- 'life is brutiful'. a thick mixture of being brutal and beautiful. i couldn't agree more.
my oldest blinked- recognizing to some degree that he had hurt both me and his brother- i know he didn't mean to, and hurting our hearts wasn't his intention- but it was the result of his anger, his impulse, his irritation. the saddest part is that my angry response to him, provoked by the hurting heart of my middle son, poured acid into his soul. i hate this cycle. i hate that i'm not more patient. mature. gracious. i hate that i get so angry, and so hurt, and am so easily jerked around by his mood.
the truth is, that my anger isn't really with him. i hate the behavior, and i get angry about the drama it creates in our home, but I'm not angry with him as my son. sadly, i don't think that's the message he hears. i try hard not to stab with my words- words that would make me feel justified in the moment, but that would create a crust of oozing pain over his heart. but i do yell. i try so hard not to... and then he hits his brother, and through the broken hymn of a shattered heart, my mama bear instinct kicks in and i yell to defend the wounded. it's a sick dance we share, and one that is often repeated multiple times in a day.
it's night now. i started this early this morning. when the pain was fresh, and the hurt was raw. i wound up writing him a letter telling him what i need him to hear. that i love him, that i am proud of him, and that i hate our fighting. he received it well... then on his own went to his brother to apologize and to tell him that he loves him. thankful for those victories. it's messy here. if you stick around, you'll begin to see- but it is also beautiful. as momastary blogger Glennon Melton says- 'life is brutiful'. a thick mixture of being brutal and beautiful. i couldn't agree more.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
I totally CAN'T handle it!
After reading this article http://natepyle.com/confronting-the-lie-god-wont-give-you-more-than-you-can-handle/ I felt compelled to speak again.
Have been waiting for the 'right time' to begin writing in blog form, and this gave me the emotional shove to do it.
I'm sitting in a big pile of crap. I am. My life has forever changed, I am grieving, things have happened to me and my family that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. And, in this pain, people want to help. They want to give me a solution, or extend hope, or even placate me so that they can feel better and not have to absorb any of my grief. It's scary to sit with someone when they're hurting. It's easy to feel inadequate, or useless or intrusive if you have nothing to offer but kind eyes and a quiet tongue. However, I can tell you, that often that is all I want or need. The things that are pressing into my life and causing pain are things that will not be easily solved, erased or fixed. There is no clear solution, and in every way it looks as though my struggle will continue for a long time to come. That's just life. Loving me (and others who also wade through pain) sometimes means just sitting with us and hurting some too. Shouldering a bit of the burden. Reminding us that we are not forgotten, or less than, or alone.
One of the things that has been said to me often through this is that God doesn't give us more than we can handle. I know that this sounds lovely coming off of well intentioned lips, and is meant to be some sort of strange compliment in the middle of pain, but... it's just simply not true. Walk it out- continue down the road of what that means- if God doesn't give us more than we can handle- then are those whose lives are fairly easy less competent? Are they less faith-filled, reliable, intelligent? And if God gives us what we can handle then does that mean that those who have pain heaped into their laps in lions shares are saintly? special? set-aside? God has no need of us. It is we who need him. And when do we recognize this more clearly than in the middle of searing pain? Often it is our pain, our inability to 'handle' it that pushes us into his lap, crying out for mercy, relief, comfort. Because ultimately we are unable to comfort ourselves sufficiently. We need him. He knows we need him. My circumstances have driven me to need him to handle it. I know I am unable to handle what I am experiencing. Strangely enough, there is comfort in that. Knowing that to get out of this crisis, He will have to move mountains. That my life itself will speak to his grace because there will be no way i can take credit for handling it.
I'm thankful I can't handle it. I'm thankful that I am close to the one who can. Now I just have to remind myself of this in the moments i think I'll never make it to the other side.....
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