Slipping Sand

Parenting is one of the most challenging jobs in the world.  Part of the design is that usually you don't fully grasp the gravity of how challenging it is until you've already added another one or two or three to the brood.  Baby land and newborn land is a hazy place that is physically draining and punctuated by moments of incredible bliss, discovery and joy.
I've learned that parenting gets harder, not easier, but by the time you learn that, you're in deep, and head over heels in love with the multitude of small people who have joined your life.

Being a single parent makes everything that much harder.  It's a lot like scooping up large handfuls of sand and trying to hold on to as much as possible as some inevitably slips through the cracks between your fingers. The larger chunks stay, as do the shells, and rocks, but the silky smooth sand that can't be grasped falls steadily no matter how hard you clench your hands together and will it to stay put.  Working with your spouse is like having his hands under yours, to catch much of what you're spilling, and while he too will lose some, there is protection in knowing that where you are weak, he can cover you.  Single parenting means that those places you know you should be able to work on, change, address, those places you can see slipping through your fingers get dropped and so you desperately pray for grace to cover your weaknesses.

I have the awareness that chore charts, allowances, and nightly reading is important, but many times keeping peace, getting everyone fed, bathed and tucked in with prayers is a monumental task when I've already mowed someone else's lawn, cleaned someone else's house, edited photographs and tended to our own home.  I feel like a sponge that is needed for cleanup and yet cannot wipe up the spill because it is already completely saturated.
I can see how many single mothers completely fall apart.  Staying in bed, or turning to less than desirable activities with less than desirable companions.  Women who have little support, even less self confidence, and no good places to draw from can create the perfect storm for not just lost sand, but total annihilation of the handfuls they have tried to hold on to.  I have moments of anger, I have moments of self pity and frustration and even moments where I let my mind wander into the homes of friends where money is assumed, furniture came new from a store and not handed down or picked from a curb, homes where women feel safe, and children feel adored by both parents and wonder what that feels like… but I don't stay there long.  Wishing and dreaming and spending time wondering what might have been brings nothing but grief and sadness, and won't get me where I want to be.  I can see many places where my sand is sliding through my fingers, out of my control, but I take heart knowing my children are well loved, we are knit tightly into a community who long to see us succeed. I am doing the best I can and God's grace makes a way where there seems to be no way.  While I never would have written this story for myself or my children, I'm so proud of how we are adjusting, growing, and learning how to embrace the life we've been given. The sand that slips through is minimal in light of the beautiful shells that are staying behind.

Camping anyone?

I don't always have to write with a deep, brooding tone.  I can be silly. In fact, in real life, I'm pretty hyper and silly a lot of the time.  So to lighten the mood a bit- here's a post about my adventure.

I took the kids camping last night. Alone. For the first time.
I really love being outside.  I love hiking, and swimming, and being in the forest. I always wanted to go camping as a family in years past,  but often I was the only one who wanted to go.  Since life has changed, and I can make the decisions now, I decided I would take it upon myself to get out there and do it.  It was awesome. It was enlightening. Fun. A good education.

Here is my fun list of our Family's Camping 101.

1.  When setting up your tent, either be super humble and ask someone for help, or be super confident and just pretend like you know exactly what you're doing.  Sneak glances around you to see if it looks like everyone else's and pray that no big wind comes and carries it away.  (I did both. I set it up very confidently, and then asked one of the guys in the registration office to pop on by and make sure I did it right.  Guess that thought that I needed a man to tell me if it was right or not is taking a bit to go away. He came by and guess what? I had done a great job!)

2.  I can make a fire.  Really!  I can.  And not a smoky, smoldering mess.  A real roaring fire that calmed into a slow burn for hot dog cooking and s'mores. It was beautiful. And yes, I'm very proud.

3.  Remind your almost-a-teen son not to wander around the site with his swiss army knife drawn.  He said he was looking for wood to whittle, but all I could see was us getting kicked out of the campsite for brandishing a weapon.  Next time I'll remind him before he goes exploring.

4.  I'm not too prissy to sleep on the ground.  I may however, be too old and bony.  I took my yoga mat, a blanket and my sleeping bag. My hips didn't like digging into the earth and while I did sleep some, I think I will need more padding in the future.

5.  Birds are noisy in late evening and early morning- and I loved it.  So many songs joining, and so incredibly beautiful.

6.  I like the smell of fire, earth and even sweaty kids all mingled together.

7. Drunk people were annoying in college and drunk people are still annoying now.  (Go to sleep you silly annoying drunk people! )

8.  Sleeping through the night in a tent with four other people under the age of 13 will not happen. You will be awakened at 3am by a naked child standing over you shivering and loudly whispering that he has had an accident and is now frozen and wet.  You will sit up and realize that your 'extra' blanket choices are limited and will try to bundle him up as best you can, without waking anyone else, and then pray that he doesn't die of hypothermia as you settle back into sleep.

9. Take more blankets next time.

10.  The thought to take .97 cent solar torches was brilliant.  I used one set on top of a jug of water (which softly illuminated the whole thing) as well as one in two different corners as really low nightlights.  It helped the kids a ton.

11.  None of my children are too old to be sung to sleep.  My lullabies saved the night.

12.  Bug spray. Even more than you think.  Ticks? Oh they are already having parties.. some of them were having parties in my kids underwear. yeah.  For real.  Thank heavens for the tweezers on the swiss army knife.

13.  I should have asked for more help setting up our site, but I was so excited to be alone in the QUIET that I kicked them out. Made them go play. It was heaven.

14.  Insist that every child use the bathroom before bedding down.  See #8.  Enough said.

15.  Don't let the kids go in and out of the tent in excitement before it's time to bed down. What seems so fun will turn your tent into a bowl of sand and dirt, and you will be using your car broom to try and get it as clean as you can before realizing you're just going to be lying in it all night and what the heck, we're made from dust, we go back to dust and tonight? We sleep in dust.

16.  Keep expectations low.

17.  Remind children at 6am that it is still time to be quiet and the sides of the tents are not, in fact, solid walls. Whisper loudly to them that their exclamations of 'There's a tick on my testicles' and 'I need to throw away my pull-up' can be heard by everyone within a 1/2 mile radius.

18.  Don't make eye contact with anyone after you emerge from your tent when everyone has just heard about the tick and its choice of location.

19.  Decide that the tent WILL in fact go back in the bag. Refuse defeat.  You will do this. Shake it out, fold it up, pull it into the bag where one lip of the bag will always slide off until you realize that you do not, in fact, have the super power needed to do this particular camping task, ball it up and put it into your car. With the bag on top.  To fix at home. Or, to ask your neighbor to help you fix it.

20.  Cheer the kids on and tell them how wonderful they did.  Chuckle at the preteen who arrived with an attitude that it wasn't rustic enough who is now sitting by a morning fire with a mouth full of pop tarts exclaiming that 'This is my most favorite place ever'. Decide to do this. Again, and again.  Healing comes amongst the trees.

Baby Steps Forward

I have tried several times to start a post and then can't get it out the way I want to.  A lot has happened, and I'm emotionally tired.

I told the kids last week about their Dad and I getting divorced.
It went... ok.
How good can that moment go?  I prayed a lot before, during, and after. I'm painfully aware that this will be a moment that is forever seared into their memories and I wanted to control it as much as possible.  I wanted to do it in a beautiful outdoor sanctuary.  But.. it's been so cold. The kids were starting to ask hard questions, and I couldn't keep avoiding it... so I drove to the place, but we had to stay in the car. It was.. anticlimactic.  It was hard. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done. But we lived.
As I have moved through my grief, the hardest part of this process has been watching my children hurt. It's been doubly hard because I haven't shared many details with them. I talk about it as much as I can, but I am very careful to protect them from many of the details because I want to preserve their relationships with their Dad.  The hard part is that there isn't a lot for them to cling to in way of understanding because the details are too ugly for me to share.  I struggle to find the words to satiate their curiosity and hurt while still preserving their innocence. It's an awful place to be and I pray often that God would give them peace in those broken and confused places that I can't soothe.
I do talk with the kids about our circumstances fairly often.  I have learned from listening to friends of mine that many families who go through divorce do it without talking to one another.  While I'm not offering many details for my children, I am being available to answer questions, to listen, and to let them know that it's ok to hurt and to be angry. I am doing the best I can to make space for their pain and allow it to be in the open now. I'm praying that that effort will prove to be healing for them as the years go by and that it will lay a foundation of trust for them that will allow them to share with me in years to come when they are hurting as older kids or teens and processing through the pain of this divorce.

I am learning so much through this process. About myself, my children, and the utter lack of control I have over other people.  At the end of the day, we all are responsible for our own actions and behavior, and nothing I can do can change his behavior and his actions.  I've never wanted to change someone so badly in my life.... I want to 'fix' him, and 'heal' him and make it all better for my kids sake, his sake, my sake.... and yet I am powerless to do so.  To watch someone you care about make choices that harm themselves and ultimately the people they love is the most awful and powerless feeling in the world, and I am learning the ultimate lesson in letting go.

This life is so drastically different than the one I had mapped out in my head.  I sometimes feel as though I've fallen asleep and woken up in another person's life... surely this can't be my reality!  But it truly is, and as I navigate these new waters of single parenthood, and single adulthood, I am learning to fall in love with myself and also fall in love with God.  I am living in a place of complete faith and also independence at a level I've never been required to before.  I'm learning to trust myself and make hard choices that not everyone understands or likes, but are choices that need to be made for the care of my children and myself.  I'm learning that I am enjoyable, dependable, human, strong, resourceful, and motivated. I'm learning that I can do hard things.  Harder than I ever dreamed.  And I'm learning to live this life as Heather. Not as someones wife, or mother, or friend, or employee.... but as myself. And I'm learning that I really do love that girl.

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.

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!

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.