Rainy days and a 500mm f4

So this day? Crazy bi-polar.  Seriously.

I opened up my day with public speaking and that's not really a good opening in my world.  

Granted I don't hate it like I did in college.  But a room full of sophomores gives me a case of nerves and somehow makes me talk 10,000 miles an hour.   No really.  My co-worker recorded me and I sounded like a chipmunk.  

So by 11 my nerves were already toast.  

Then I had to drive to two of our most far off schools in the pouring rain.  I despise driving in the rain thanks to a hydroplaning accident I was in at 18 (I should have been completely smashed by a semi and somehow God saved me -total miracle). 

So nerves? Double fried.

Then came the dealing with personal drama and that can definitely bring on anxiety.  Thankfully I have amazing friends, my pastors are incredible people, and things got resolved to a point where I feel peaceful and even better than I did before the drama started. 

Then I got home and checked my bank account to discover that I'd finally recieved a very late and smaller than it was supposed to be child support payment.   Annoying.  But at least it's something right? 

The shortage meant I was going to have to pull savings out of my far to small savings account to fund my babies birthday this weekend.  So I was sitting here all stressed about it when I started getting texts from people wanting to buy my jeep.

Sweet relief.  Whatever little bit I may have to pull from savings I'm going to be able to replace and add even more to it.  

It was such a good little reminder to me that even when crap happens, or the ex shorts us again, or whatever little drama rips at my emotions, God has a plan to bring peace to the situation.  

Sure, receiving support on time and in the right amount would be cool, but it's even cooler that God is coming through with 10 times the shortage.  And the drama? God is turning wounds into scars that no longer hurt through His beautiful way of healing.  Plus the lessons learned are hopefully making me a wiser woman, though time will tell on that one.

All that to say, I'm glad that God does what He does, and glad that I'm finally able to see the positive even in the days that are less than awesome. 

Oh and as far as the rain and public speaking? I turned on a sermon when I started driving and didn't want to look at my phone for the rest of the trip, so my typically ADD brain was force-fed a great sermon.  

The public speaking thing? I got to play with this cool lens that made my little nerd heart happy and almost made up for the fact that I had to actually SPEAK in front of REAL PEOPLE.

(Sorry for the iphoneography)

I really wasn't trying to flip off the camera.  

My day may not have been the greatest, (though I almost feel like I need to follow that statement with #firstworldproblems) God still showed up and made my rainy, public speaking and little bit drama filled day a good day.  

Like an onion

We all have layers like an onion.  And I kinda feel like God has been peeling off my layers of issues just like one peels off those outer layers of an onion to get to the good (and tear-making) parts of the onion.  I'm allowing myself to be healable.  It's hard, but so good.

Some of it has involved me taking steps back from relationships and people.  Reprioritizing.   Realizing that giving away myself to others doesn't mean I have to die in the process.   Making my kids a priority, shutting down my phone when I'm with them.  Even when this means I ignore messages.  Utilizing the "do not disturb" feature.  Unplugging more and plugging into my kids and my life. Not that I want to shut people out, but I need to focus in on my babies more.

Each day I've been making the conscious effort to set down the phone, to say no to the things that take away from my family - not to be confused with giving back as a family....that's another topic!  To utilize my spare time wisely - mid-day coffees (decaf of course!) with friends vs. late extravagant nights out that mean the babysitter puts the kids to bed.  Honing in on my job when I'm at work.  Honing in on my kids when I'm home.   

It's tough.  I love being social.  But I know that my focus in this season of life is my kids and their lives...not mine.  Being their parent.  Being their friend too. 

My oldest boy confided things in me this week, things I won't share, but things that made me so proud of him, and myself a little too as a mom. I'm so happy that him and I have the kind of relationship that he can't wait to talk to me about things that most kids might not want to share.  

And my baby this week? He told me that "when you're little and old mommy, and I'm big and strong, I'm gonna take care of you and be your mommy."

Sigh.....He may have the gender and aging facts confused, but his little heart just melts me.  

All that to say - I'm digging the things God is working in my heart.  Some of them have been hard.  But when I listen and obey I'm finding peace and it's beautiful.   

Settled

I've had one of those weeks.  Not a bad week.  Not a good week. Just kind of a in-the-middle week.  Maybe it was the caffeine withdrawals that made it this rather foggy and not very many ups and downs kind of way.  Or maybe it's just that life had been so bi-polar for me that an average week just kinda feels a little strange.  Normalcy? I don't know what that is.  

I do know something kinda profound though that I finally realized today as I was cleaning my house.

I'm settled.

This is a kinda of a female thing here so bear with me. 

When my ex and I bought our house in 2006 I made it a home.  I painted every wall, hung over 200 photos, made and bought curtains, garage-saled for furniture and it was just "us."  From the black and white canvases on the wall of the family, to the messiness of the office, to the damask curtains, in the living room, to the abundance of lemon decor that littered every spare inch of my ginormous kitchen.  It was home. 

When we finally got out of it, we stayed at a shelter for domestic violence victims. Of course that wasn't home for me.  Then we stayed with my family as I tried to get into a home.  We lived out of suitcases from August until the end of January, and when we finally unpacked in our new place I thought "maybe this is it."

But I never settled.

We stayed there for a year and a half.  When I moved in my next door neighbor was dealing (of course I never actually SAW this happen....but the never ending stream of Cadillacs through our driveways was a good indicator).  He left and two registered sex offenders joined the area.  Then two women with a steady stream of different men every night (no comment) moved into the two houses adjacent to mine.  Then I found out my ex was living in close proximity to me.  Then one of my neighbors informed me that he caught a man spying on me through my window.  And that was the last straw.  

So we moved.  And then moved again.

This place I'm in now, it's the third house I've lived in since my divorce started.  It's small.  It's secluded.  It's peaceful. It's affordable.

It's not quite as decorated as I want, but some photos are up, some curtains too.  I bought a (used) couch and a new rug, painted my garage sale coffee tables new colors and suddenly it feels like it's mine. 

My budget says I can stay here and afford it and actually live a little instead of just survive.

It feels peaceful.  We feel safe.  Lord willing no monsters will come and take this from us.  

I'm excited to see what God has for our future.  But for right now? This is a good place to be and I hope it lasts. 

For not leaving me alone.

Yesterday I had an appointment that filled me with dread.  I was anxious, stressed, and worried.  I sat in the waiting room, fidgeting and tapping my fingers. Checking Facebook.  Re-checking Facebook in case anything changed from 30 seconds earlier.  Wiggling.  Unable to sit still.  And finally I said screw it, and posted a status update that was just a little raw.  It was where I was at - scared, terrified, and watching an oncoming train directed straight at my kids and not having the power to stop it.

Then I put my phone on silent and the meeting started. 

I sat for an hour and a half re-living things that died four years ago.  Things I don't care much to talk about.  Abuse.  Betrayal.  Abandonment.  Pain.  Denial.  And grief that cut like a knife. 

That stuff could all just die as far as I'm concerned. 

My kids and I are safe, happy, settled, content.....moved on.  Why bring up old crap? 

"In Washington state parents rights trump kids rights.....even convicted sex offenders can still get visitation."

Oh.

That's why I'm here.  

So I'm doing everything I can to give my kids the best life I can right now.  Though it's far off in the distance there's a chance that this peaceful home and settled-ness we have in the moment may not last. 

I hope not.  I pray it never comes to that. 

But it may.  

When I left the meeting I looked at my phone.  Not one, not two, but dozens of messages, texts and Facebook comments had lit up my phone.  

"Praying!!!!" 

"Can I do anything" 

"What's going on?"

"God is with you!"

"Psalm 91."

and many more.....thank you.  

Thank you all for being my friends.  For believing in me.  For praying for me. For defending me. For those many mornings spent in courtrooms holding my hand.  And those many hours listening to my exasperated venting.  For the unpublished editorials that were written and sent in defending me and my babies. For reminding me that God is bigger than money.  For the times I've gone to pay bills and discovered someone somewhere paid a bill for me.  For the times food has been provided when I had none.  For the surprise birthday parties.  For the help with my nemesis - the laundry.   For the men in my life that give my boys a Godly example of a man.  For the women that try and guide me towards being a more Godly mother.  For the many girls nights full of laughter.  For all the inside jokes we share.  For the dinners that make my life so much more simple.  For all of the hugs. For the cleaning and organizing.   For the times you've all helped me relocate.  For the coffees.  For the late-night movies.  For the help with childcare.  For the hand-me-down cloths.  For the hand-me-down furniture.  For asking.  For caring.  For never letting me forget that I'm not alone in this fight.  

Despite this battle.  Despite this journey. I am abundantly blessed to have you all in my life. 

Thank you.  

Lent.

I clocked in this morning at work and sat down at my desk. My computer seemed to take forever to boot up and while I sat there waiting to get started on an exciting day of making posters I browsed through Facebook and saw Ann Voskamps post today on lent. As I read through it I felt moved. Of course who doesn't feel moved when reading through Ann's writing? Lent is something that I've never observed. I guess I always viewed it as a Catholic thing and never really took the time to understand it. Fasting? That comes up frequently. Though I will say, I am not good at it. I've tried and failed many times. But I know the benefits. There was one time I did a rather imperfect 40 day no-dairy fast. It was SO hard to stick to. When I started it I was fasting for my marriage and by the end of it I had completely surrendered it all to God. Instead of God fixing my marriage God worked on me and somehow managed to root out crap in me that I didn't even know was there. It was a beautiful, hard, heart-wrenching, heart-breaking and amazing experience. And oh the way I devoured that Pepper Jack cheese and that cows milk latte when I was done? Sweet bliss! Until I threw it up and realized that dairy has to be re-introduced SLOWLY to one's system. Lesson learned. This post from Ann got me thinking though. Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday and I feel like God has me at this turning point in my life. I'm not sure what it looks like or what will happen. But for the very first time I've decided to observe Lent because I want to know. From my experience with fasting I know that God can use the fasting of things in life to reveal to us our great inadequacies and our need of a Savior. He can also use it to root out sin and bring healing. I mulled over her post throughout the day. I read it again when I got home and thought some more on it. Yes I know that this doesn't change how God views me. My works don't get me to heaven. My success or failure on this does not define who I am in Him. But it does convict and make me aware of my inadequacies and deep need for His power in my life. Knowing God and God's grace is what I am after. Knowing my Savior in a deeper way? I can't go wrong with that. Like she said - “Don’t think of lent as about working your way to salvation. Think of it as working out your salvation.” No coffee. No fast food. Please forgive my sleepiness and potential grumpiness thanks to the epic headaches I will be facing over the next week.

(And just because he is cute and adorable and I don't have a good lent related photo, here is my baby about to pray over his grilled cheese sandwich after he obviously already took a bite out of it).

Moving on

Last year my good friend Tyler shared a sermon with me from Elevation Church called "The Horn, The Sword and The Robe."  It was probably one of the best sermons I've heard in my life.  It was applicable to everything I was going through at that time and it actually moved me to tears at the end.   

I shared a quote from it on Facebook back in January when I re-listened to it again.....

"Moving on doesn't mean you stop caring, it just means you can't change it. Moving on doesn't mean you stop hurting, It doesn't mean you stop wishing it could have been different, It just means you can't change the circumstance. You lift what's left of your life to God and say I'm empty, I'm disappointed in that, or I blew it, or they hurt me, I'm hurting but here's my heart. I'm hurting but there's still a joy." - Steven Furtik 

Moving on seems like such an easy thing for some people, and I'll admit there is a part of me that is a little jealous of the people that can just up and get over tragedy and heartbreak.  

I'm not one of those people.

I struggle with moving on.  I struggle with forgiveness.  I struggle with letting go.  I struggle with anger.  Not anger, like the "blow up and throw things" anger, but the kind of anger that gets suppressed and ends up haunting me in violent nightmares.  It's not fun.  

I pray about it often.  I also wonder why God wired me this way - this way where I feel so much for people that I just ache.  

I was watching the show Dexter last night (I'm only about 12 episodes in) at the point I'm at in the show he is a sociopath with no feelings.  He just pretends to feel.  I'm found myself wishing I could shut off the feelings, shut off the rawness of life and just be more logical and methodical like him (minus the serial killer thing).

Yes I realize that Dexter is that way because he saw his mom get chopped up with a chainsaw when he was 3.  So maybe I don't REALLY want to be like that.  

But being able to look at a situation with logic, and choose wisely would be nice.  So would being able to just shut the door on someone or something that's causing pain to my soul.   

When I heard that quote I shared above? It resonated with me.  It made me realize how "okay" it is that I am this way.  That feeling for people and situations, feeling heartache and loss, crying over tragedy?  That this pain I'm feeling? I can ignore it.  I can stuff it.   I can pretend it's not there. Or I can lift it up to God, give Him my rawness, my ache, my tears and see what He does with it. 

He is the master of turning ashes into beauty and I hope so very much that he can paint some sort of beautiful picture out of this heartache that I feel.