The Tension of Uncertainty

I'm living in the tension inherent to single motherhood. The struggle between wanting what's best for my children and the reality that what I may be able to provide might fall impossibly short of that desire.

I have been living on my own, without a man, for more than two years.  I have a college education that follows my name, but after being a SAHM for so many years, it is virtually useless.  With four children who need some level of daycare should I be in a more traditional 9-5 job, I have found that my only viable option to provide is to do it in a non-traditional role. I live in a very expensive area.  I live in a more rural part of the suburbs and apartments aren't on every corner. We have many townhouses in this county, but those often cost as much, if not more, than the single family homes found in traditional neighborhoods.

This is the second home we've lived in since we had to leave the military base so quickly back in 2012.
I had no job and was shell shocked from the news I had been given, and no idea how to begin to take care of my kids on my own.  As God often does, the path out and into new life began to illuminate one step at a time.  I was offered a place to rent by someone I was connected to in my church community.  It was about half of the more traditional rental homes (in size and cost) but it would house us.  My family came and helped me wade through 12 years of marriage and family 'stuff' and pack, and purge, and store everything so that I could move my family forward.  The military housing we had been in was 2000 sq feet with a three car garage, and we had managed to fill every corner of it.  The new home was about 800 sq feet with no added storage, and the change felt daunting.  Somehow, I managed to figure out what was necessary and what could wait, and we filled the cozy space with our sagging, broken hearts.  That small space proved to be a healing island as we bumbled into a new life together.  The tight space held us close, and I think we all drew comfort in the small rooms as we desperately needed to trust and depend on one another.

I babysat some through my time there and did odd jobs to start creating provision on my own.  Seven short months after we settled into that space it was time to move on and we were blessed to be rescued by the family I had been babysitting for.  We moved into their basement. It had a partial kitchen, and two much larger bedrooms than the ones we had been squeezed into before, and a gigantic yard to run in.  It also was about 1100 sq feet, and it felt like we were moving up in the world. The five of us brought our noise, our angry hearts and our stuff into the home of another family. I helped babysit their son throughout the next year and when they moved out, we were able to move into the whole house.  We were now stretched out into 5 bedrooms and 2500 sq feet. I finally exhaled.  I had no earthly idea how I would be able to pay the rent that was more than any house I'd ever lived in.  I was providing almost fully on my own as our child support is a small fraction of what the children need.  I was willing to do anything I needed to do to provide and keep them out of day care.  I mowed yards, cleaned houses, babysat, and worked as a photographer.  I sold more things that I discovered we no longer needed and prayed hard that God would see us and remember us. Somehow, since last summer, I have been able to take care of my family.  Some months brought checks in the mail from strangers or friends, some months brought unexpected work for me, some months were complete miracles, but here we are, going on 7 months since we took over the house and I am not behind on anything I am responsible for.  But change is at my doorstep again. The homeowners own two homes and have a large business, and selling this house is the best option for their family. The buying/selling season for real estate is coming in mere weeks, and so we are to be out of this house by the end of February.  I am struggling to find someone to rent to us because my income is so new.  I don't have years of rental history or work history to prove to them that I'm not a risk.  My good references could fill a book, but homeowners want a sure thing. A single mom with many part time jobs and four children does not look like a sure thing. It's the end of January, and I'm not sure yet where I will take my children.
These kinds of jagged places in life have a way of growing and challenging faith. I vacillate between feeling hopeful that I will again see miraculous provision, and utter despair when I absorb the feelings of inadequacy that hover over my heart looking for any entrance to bring decay to my faith.  Friends and family champion me with 'God's got this Heather!' and 'I'm praying for you girl!' And while both of those statements bring some comfort and truth, the reality is that my faith in God and love of who He is doesn't promise me a life without struggle. There are millions of moms who love God who are living with children in places that would make me want to curl up and die. There are many mothers whose love of their children and love of God wasn't enough to buffer their children from incredible heartache and pain, and yet, I still say… God is good.

I don't have a beautiful miraculous ending to this story.  March may find me in yet another basement of friends… filled with both relief at having a warm home, and anger that the life I thought I'd be living is so far from my reality that I can't even see it through the tears anymore.  I have full faith that my life story is still being written, and that it is beautiful, but as with many rich, full stories, there are often chapters that pull at the heart, and take the breath away… I just happen to be living inside of those chapters. I'm ready to see what's on the next page.

Living in the Tension

Yesterday a few guys came to the house to help me truly move in.  The other family moved out in the middle of July, but I wanted to paint some, and needed some muscles to move around our furniture and to bring in some large pieces that I had in the garage.  Until yesterday, we were all still living downstairs for the most part. 
 I scribbled their names onto a box in my calendar for August 6th. They came to serve me with kindness and skill and in a few short hours, the house was looking like home. 

After they left, I sat at my antique farm table and stared out through the big front window.  The amazing reality of giving my children their own space again and moving into my own bedroom for the first time in 20 months was settling in.  I breathed deeply with the realization that we are truly on our own, and sat in the serenity for about 3.6 seconds before anxiety tried to barrel in with guns blazing. 

Nothing about my life makes sense on paper right now. Financially, my life is a mystery. I do the best each month with what I have, I do the work I'm given to do, and somehow, by some incredible miracle, each month everything is taken care of that we truly need. I have yet to get to the end of my resources and I haven't yet had to ask for help. We've been without my ex-husband now for 22 months. Some months have brought surprise money in the mail from friends who felt like sending me a bit extra. Other times, I've received food, or gift cards, hand me down clothing, or toys. Several times, I have even opened the mail box to find a care package filled with treats and surprises for me to encourage my weary heart.  Somehow, God takes the little I have and stretches it in such a way that there haven't been any cracks. But our minds can be a scary place to linger, and in that moment after the guys had left, and my kids had scattered to their own spaces, I began to rehearse how utterly ridiculous I must be to think that I could do this alone.  The joy of being in my own space was robbed by the anxiety that lurked, ready to pounce into massive disastrous thinking.  In the span of a few seconds, the track record God has in my life of providing for us was smashed under the weight of the fear I let descend upon my heart.  

I talked with a dear friend later in the day. She has been a single mother for several years now after a 25 year marriage dissolved when he chose to walk out.  She has been an example to me of learning to do with less than she ever dreamed and yet seeing her needs be met as she goes.  I told her that the fear of knowing tomorrow could hold complete financial disaster was a heavy burden to bear.  But as I spoke the words aloud, I finished the thought by saying, the reality is all of us are one moment away from disaster or destruction. None of us are immune to difficulty or struggle, it is just that living the lives that we have, we are more acutely aware of it on a daily basis.  We live in the tension of the now.  We don't have the luxury of planning for much, or banking the excess for future calamity.  We have the responsibility of weighing this day's choices and needs against the near future that we know will bring more want.  Just today I was faced with the decision of whether or not to buy the epipen I now need to carry as this year has revealed a bee allergy.  It was hundreds of dollars, and I've put off picking it up because the amount made me anxious. Today I had the money. So today I chose to get it.  I know that in one month I might wish for the money I spent today, but knowing the power in that life saving medication, and having the money for this day, I made the best choice I could make for today. I'm slowly learning the lesson of doing the best I can with what I have and trusting that I will get enough grace, enough mercy, enough provision for the next day, and the next, and the next.  

My Dad sent me this quote today, and it's an eloquent statement about living in the now, in that tension of living as we go:

"The heart of spirituality isn't safety and security. Instead, it is what Dorothy Day called 'precarity.' In the mind of most, precarity (or precariousness) is a bleak state of uncertainty and danger. The word connotes instability, poverty, marginalization, and the absence of a safety net....It also suggests radical dependence: the Latin 'precarious' is the state of being dependent on another's will, being upheld or sustained by another's force. So a spirituality centered on precarity acknowledges the radical uncertainty or contingency of human existence and our utter dependence on God." — Kerry Walters in Jacob's Hip: Finding God in an Anxious Age

The beauty of living in precarity is that I am faced with a simple choice. Either I trust that God is who He says He is, and He will provide for me and my family, or I fight it and try to conjure up miracles for myself. I don't have a good track record of creating something out of nothing. I haven't yet figured out how to open doors for work and influence when there seems to be no knob on the door. I do have almost 2 years and a notebook filled with line after line where I've documented the incredible ways my family has been seen, cared for, loved, and provided for. I still don't know how this will work. My rent is up now in this house, and I'm truly on my own. But each day brings what I need for that day. Each job I'm offered, each bit of mana I'm showered with has been enough. My Mother's heart longs to race ourselves out of this place of precarity, and yet the beautiful, miraculous story that is being written is one I would never have experienced otherwise. I'm learning to sit in that tension of precarity, and choosing daily to fling my hope and faith on the one who has seen me.

Dear God, make me a bird, so I can fly; far far away from here....

I know I already wrote a bit about the movie Frozen- so just bear with me once again...

The movie really speaks to me and the message is haunting... in the best sort of way.

There is a scene where the younger sister has gone after her older sister to get her to come home.  The older sister essentialy has a meltdown and flips out... from fear. The song ends dramatically with the older sister yelling "I can't" and hurting her younger sister with her magical powers (which she has yet to learn to hone properly.)
The reality is, that the sister has strong powers... and they can be used for harm, or for good... but her fear becomes her greatest enemy and keeps her from living life and benefiting those around her.  So instead of using her powers and gifts, she hides them. Thinking she is protecting herself and everyone else.  The consequence is that the beauty that comes from her power is also lost.

I am sitting in a place in life where I can completely relate.
When my life veered so violently off course almost a year and a half ago, I needed a place to go. To start to breathe. To heal.  I had nothing. No resources, no job, no plan, nothing. Somehow, God always showed up and threw out the net just as I was about to hit the ground.  I've been saved from complete destruction in ways that still astound me.

Life isn't easy for us.  I've been slammed down and had the wind knocked out of me, and it's been hard to try to catch my breath. Thankfully, I've been in a place for the last 7 months where I can rest a bit.  I'm still working hard and trying to figure out my role as a single mom of 4 while also acquiring the new role of main provider.  Due to the fact that my children are still fairly young, I would need child care for them, and the reality is, I can't afford it with any job I could get outside of the home.  Thankfully I've been able to piece together photography, babysitting, writing, ebay, some help from others, some child support, and lots of grace in order to provide for my children.  But the time of hiding is coming to an end... the time to stop being afraid and jump out into a new world is looming large on the horizon.

I have been feeling paralyzed by fear.  The reality is.... that at the end of your life you look back and see that it's been a series of choices, and I'm in a place where my choices are going to pave the road for myself and four other people.  I'm excited and also terrified.  Fear can lead to complete lock up.  I can see the things I feel I've been gifted with and I want to use them to provide for my children, but the fear of failure, and the fear of success, and the fear of the unknown, and the fear of rejection, all swim together in my mind and prevent me from that giant shove against resistance into movement forward.  Any movement. I've been working through some of this over the last weeks, and have talked with my counselor, a couple dear friends and my parents and I know that I have amazing support.  I'm thankful that in a time when I have to provide for my children in a nontraditional way that I have skills that can translate into provision.... but I've never sat in this place before.  I've never had to be the provider. My identity is shifting, and I am having to lean into it in order to survive. I have had my share of meltdowns when I too have screamed "I can't!", but thankfully, there have been people who love me standing right there to turn me back around and push me forward and remind me again that yes, I can.

I don't want fear to stop me and push me into the darkness in hiding. Rather I want the uncertainty to be motivating, and pressing and powerful in the best kind of way. I have a lot of days where I am completely terrified, and when I look at my life on paper, nothing makes sense.  I am having to walk through doors I never dreamed I would even be knocking on and trust that on the other side of them, I will know which room to walk into.  I am having to trust that the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior when it comes to God's faithfulness; knowing that the miraculous ways I've been provided for won't dry up because I've used up too much grace. I'm having to believe people when they tell me that they love me and won't let me fall. I'm standing in very thick fog but I can see the halo of light off in the distance.  My job is to keep moving towards the light.  The time of my incubation and hiding is coming to a close.  I would be lying if I told you I felt ready.  But I will trust that as I jump from the nest that the wings I've been resting and tending to will unfurl in strength and steadiness and that somehow, fear will fall and I will fly.

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.