.

.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

To the Stars and Back

"I love you to the stars and back"

It's something my baby (who's not so baby-ish) and I tell each other every night when I tuck him in.

Because the moon isn't far enough away to express that love.

Sometimes when he's feeling cheeky he says he only loves me to the grocery store and back.

And this is my night, almost every night.

I tuck him in and he waits and I sit on the couch with my book and wait.

Then he sneaks out with a grin and jumps in my lap for one more snuggle. When I tell him it's really truly bedtime his legs fail and he needs to be "carried like a baby" back to his bed.

I let him get away with this.  Just like I let my daughter run out to me a few minutes later, like she always does, to sit next to me for a few more minutes of time. 

Maybe I'm a softie. I probably am.  

I've been critiqued for my permissiveness many times.

I've come to accept my parenting mistakes these days though and quit beating myself up so much. Though I have to say, I disagree with the idea of late night cuddles being a mistake.

I've realized that in someones eyes I will always be doing something wrong no matter what.  What one person sees as too stern another will see as too permissive. 

I realize it...and I realize that I'm doing my best and making the best decisions I can for them. 

My children are kind and loving and polite and generous most of the time.  And just like me they are sometimes rude and ungrateful and selfish.  

They are just tiny humans after all.

I don't know what it is about single parenting, but I've found people are far more opinionated about my parenting now than what they were back then.

I want to be the best mom I possibly can be to these guys.  I want them to be brave and speak out for justice and protect the weak and love, love and more love.

Today was a day of hopelessness when it came to my parenting.  It was an ugly day. Not because of anything my kids did. But because of my situation.

I was told to give up hope.

I mean that literally as in I was directly told that I needed to quit hoping because I'm just making it harder on myself emotionally and I sobbed big ugly tears and refused to give up. 

I may feel hopeless in this moment and in my situation.  But I know I'm not.

It's just now I know that I can't hope in people.  They are just human. Not that I didn't know that already, it just got pounded into my head again today.

God is my ONLY hope.  

This is just my thought, with no real theological backing, but I have this belief that God secretly loves drama. Not like reality TV drama, but the kind of drama like in a Marvel movie. 

I think He likes to swoop in last minute and be the hero.  We think He's too late. The heroine is going to be crushed by the oncoming train. We just know it. Yet His timing is perfect and He swoops in and pulls her out of harms way and the train misses them by inches as it speeds on by.  

I hope I'm right.  I hope that God is the hero that I've spent my life believing He is.  I want so badly to have more faith.  


(Is his little cheese face not the cutest?!? Taken during one of our late night/he snuck out of bed moments together.)



























Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Change

When I think of where I was in 2010 and where I am now, a lot has changed.

I mean besides the obvious divorce and accompanying drama. 

I've changed.  My heart has changed.  My desires have changed.

When I came back from Africa in 2010, my heart was broken but in the best way possible.  I looked at the world differently and I was married to someone that would never get it.  

My world fell apart as he fell apart and then God held me and kept me together as I watched him self destruct.  I don't even recognize the person he is now.  I'm probably unrecognizable too.

Africa changed me.  Surviving abuse changed me. Living in a women's shelter changed me.  Testifying in a rape case changed me. Having to rely on state assistance for a season?  That really changed me.  

In 2010 I was most engaged and excited when I was talking about photography.  I could go for hours discussing lenses and cameras and photoshop techniques.  I was ridiculously passionate about it all. 

Life changed.

Now?  The things that fire me up have to do with justice, poverty, violence against women and children and what we can do about it. I get all sorts of fired up and excited. 

I guess I'm realizing that while I still love what I do, God is pulling me towards something that involves more than f.stops.  

I've been feeling the pull for awhile now.  

I'm not planning on leaving my job, I still love what I do.  But I'm realizing that the idea of throwing a bunch of extra time and money into being some ridiculously amazing creative photographer doesn't excite me like it used to.  It's still a creative outlet for me, yes.  And I do love it.  But I know things are changing.

What I've gone through is not unique.

What I've gone through is pretty damn disgusting.

I will be real.  I will speak out.  I will tell it like it is.  If I am silent, this fight was for nothing.  

I don't know what this looks like, but I know I'm excited about it.

Whatever it is that God is calling me towards, I want to say "yes."  

It's time for me to dream again, and this time my dreams are a lot bigger than pretty photos.  

So here I go....

The exact path isn't clear yet.  But  things are going to be changing. I may have been kicked down for a season, but I'm on my feet again, and I will fight for justice. 

I would love prayer and even advice.  God has given me big dreams, and it's a little intimidating.