Sunday, August 28, 2011

Remember Me???

Remember this post?

My grit is spent.

I am not in the business of comparing crosses and I know that life throws curveballs with completely objective equality. But I am not above saying that this curveball stinks.

I've been a high school teacher now for a couple of weeks and have two whole days of teaching under my belt. They went fairly well, but the chaos of getting kids to school/preschool in the morning, packing lunches, making meals, teaching, grading, prepping, being enthusiastic about spanish, picking kids up, making a dinner, spending quality time, and then prepping to do it all again rendered me completely useless this weekend. And somehow I'm trying to squeeze exercise into the mix. What a mix it is.

And then my four year old says her throat hurts. And I break down. It isn't that I think she is really sick. It is that I have to worry about getting a sub, and I can't just stay home and keep an eye on her. I've never realized how much I have loved being home with my children. It is a precious gift. It is exhausting, draining, repetitive, thankless, and messy. But, now that someone else is spending 8-9 hours a day watching my little girls laugh, twirl, and play, all I can feel is loss. It is breaking my heart.

I generally can take it all one day at a time. If I think about the next ten months of this single working mom gig it knocks me over. So, I won't. I will pray. I will try to trust God and stop asking why our family has to go through this. I've given up anticipating any sort of change. I keep thinking that each time I have a sort of clarifying revelation, that I would have learned that magic lesson this was all designed to teach me. And so it would end. Daman would get a job down here and we'd be able to live together as a family, and while it wouldn't become magically easy, it would get much closer to happily bearable.

And still, I am thankful. I am thankful that my children are alive, active, and healthy. I am not sitting by their bedside in a hospital. My husband is distant, but alive and well. I believe God is in His heaven and feels the pain of our little family. I do not feel abandoned. I feel confused, strained, and pulled. But, I do not feel despair. Gratitude, I believe, will get us all through this. And get through it we will. What choice is there? The home-cooked meals might be few and far between. My laundry pile might get awfully large. But, we will pray together. We will not give up our faith. I might lose my temper, my patience, and large chunks of my mind. But, I will not lose my faith. And I will not lose my family.

Maybe I haven't lost my grit after all.


  1. remember this, too: it, like running, will get easier the longer you do it. i empathize with your strain--working from home with maggie has pulled and pushed me in ways that i can't describe. but it does get easier and you do find your way, somehow, even if it is a way that is punctuated by stumbling around, bleary-eyed and sleep-deprived.

    it WILL get easier.

    it will get easier faster if you don't try to do it all yourself, like i have. i have been humbled and brought literally to my knees by the whole thing and i realize that if i had stayed there in the first place, life would have been a lot easier for the last four and a half months.

    so, no, you haven't lost your grit. it's still alive and well.

    stay on your knees. pray always. let Him pick up your slack. He will. His yoke is easy and His burden is light--because He takes ours.

    you will make it.

  2. Holy cow (wish I knew how to say that in Spanish, but oddly, growing up in Texas a fluent Spanish speaker does not necessarily make)!

    I had no idea you were going through all of this. I hope things work out for you and Daman. It's amazing what we find we are capable of when put to the test. I'm sure you'll find you're capable of a lot!

  3. Have I told you lately that I think you're one of the awesomest and most inspiring people I know? What a crazy path you're on and yet you still manage to do it with grace and grit. Miss you!

  4. I have learned - the hard way - that it is in the toughest of moments that I find out just how strong I am. Or - better yet - just how much the Lord can magnify me.
    I am so sorry, dear. So, so sorry. Love and prayers for you, dear friend.