Together Again.

Daman got the job!

We will be back together again as a family within a month. Hip Hip Hooray!

Perspective is such a wonderful thing. As we progress with stages we look back at times and wonder how we thought a certain way.

Like when I thought I was busy with a newborn that slept 3/4 of the day

Or when I thought teaching one seminary class of 26 sweet highschoolers was a draining challenge.

Or when I thought a mission was certainly the hardest thing I would ever face in my whole life.

Or when I got married and thought I loved my husband in such a deep way. I didn't know depth yet.

Or when I thought getting three kids ready and out the door to the gym by 8:30 was hard. Now it is 7:15 and I have to be dressed and showered too.

Being a stay at home mom has some draining challenges. Cooking and cleaning and planning and shopping all demand something. But, I look back now and wonder why I felt overwhelmed, because now I am doing all of those without a husband and with a job--a really demanding job. I don't mean AT ALL to say that one path is busier/harder than the other, I'm just learning so much about appreciating the stage you are in, recognizing that those challenges are unique and singular, and you never know what is going to come next. If anything these last six months have taught me, it is that there is peace in embracing the present wholeheartedly. I often forget, but when I do take things one day at a time--or one class period at a time--I begin to believe I can pretty much do whatever I set my mind to. I don't know how I will look back on this time in a few years, but I can say that I look back on these six months and as flawed as they are, I really do believe I've done my best. I've gained weight, watched more tv than I should, yelled at my kids a few times, and in general lost it more than once. But, I have not quit. I have not shirked. I have kept the faith. I have fought a good fight. And I believe I will continue.

HOPE

Faith creates hope. Hope begets charity. And charity somehow convinces us that faith is worth having. That is a precious cycle. Lately hope has been a real struggle for me. I have prayed and asked for so many things. Things that, to me, have seemed like no-brainer-will-of-God sort of things. For my husband to pick up more clients so we could move back to Virginia. . . for me to get a teaching job so we could move back to Virginia. . . for my husband's headaches to stop. . . for my husband to get a job here so we could be together . . . for strength, patience, charity. . . and hope.
And nothing.
Well, the last one I feel like comes through once in awhile. But if I don't feel it, that is my fault, not His. So, my question is, why do we keep praying when we fully recognize that only the best thing is going to happen anyway and apparently we have zip idea of knowing what that best thing is? I think the reason we keep praying is because when we pray--we hope. We are saying to God "I'm telling you what I'd like not because I'm demanding it or even because I claim to know it is exactly what we need, but this is my little way of saying that I still believe." Sure I'm crying while I'm saying it, but I do, I do still believe. I'm not sure why, but I do. So, I don't know what to pray for or ask for, but I am realizing that I can hope even if I don't have a plan. Hope can give me a steady optimism to keep asking and keep trusting and keep trying to become someone who believes when life seems utterly unbelievable.
I've never been so strained. Being a new teacher, teaching a subject I've never taught and feel like I barely grasp, handling a sprained back, kids throwing up and coming up with plans for a substitute teacher when I barely know how to make them for myself has left me completely worn out and at times. . . hopeless.

Then I Step Back.

Then I count my teeth and move my body and realize that I am lucky to be alive. I look at my children and remember that even if someone else is reading them books, at the end of the day I am still their mother. And I think of a husband that is hopeful, supportive, and trying so hard to get us back together as a family again.

I don't know who all reads this blog, but might I ask for your prayers? Daman has a job interview next Wednesday. We feel great about his chances, but the many slammed doors of the last year has left me skittish and bruised, and I feel awfully nervous. This could mean being back together as a family. This could mean having our own place to live and a bed that isn't half empty anymore. This could mean alot. I am completely comfortable with the phrase "If it be thy will" and I do not pray to change God's will. But I don't see the harm in asking Him for something that perhaps He is completely okay with giving us. So, if you could keep us in your prayers, I'd be grateful. It could be a very good day. Come what may. I have hope, and I believe that is a gift that God will always give us.

Have a hopeful day.

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.

An Unlikely Peace

Yesterday was a very hard day for me. The reality of the path set before me sort of settled in and a sharp sadness followed. Another ten months of living separate from my husband, my children in childcare and going from being a single mother to being a single working mother felt a bit overwhelming. I was sad, weak, and tired. But, through it all, I continue to feel a settling peace. I believe that is a language only God can speak. Satan can duplicate all sorts of emotions, and we can sometimes convince ourselves of a variety of responses, but only God can deliver a true, constant, peace. And that is what I feel. I feel at peace. That doesn't mean I don't feel sad about it. And I don't think sadness weakens faith. Perhaps it only enhances it. Perhaps when we are sad and are still willing to move forward, we earn an even greater trust with the Lord. I hope that He trusts that I will do what He asks. Perhaps with shaky knees and a trembly heart, but I will try. I will try.


And on the flip side, I am SO happy about someone else potty-training Emma. That is a serious bright side.

decisiones y preguntas

It looks like I am going to be a teacher. A Spanish teacher. Como? I know. This is quite a turn of events, a turn I certainly would never have anticipated, but one I seem to feel oddly at peace with. I can't really explain this sense of serenity I have about a direction that in some ways seems to make no sense. I mean, I have my Masters in ENGLISH Lit, right?

But, the thing is, there are so many English majors and they all seem ready and willing to teach high school. But suddenly, up popped an opening in the Spanish department at my old high school. It will take some work and prep to pass a big competency test in October, but I interviewed today with the principal and it looks like we are a go.

This means daycare for my kids. This means ten more months of not living with my husband. This means I have no idea what God has in store for us. But, it also means some income, some productivity, and I get to have a taco party with a bunch of high school kids and enthusiastically help them learn the hacer verb and all it can do for them in their lives. Glorious.

So, will this be a blessing wrapped in another character building experience that makes no sense? I have no idea. But, I really do feel good about this. I have never wanted to work full-time. I really do love staying at home with my kids. Is there guilt? Of course. Good grief I cried almost every time I gave Lucy a bottle when I couldn't make breastfeeding work. But, the moment that changed that whole I-am-a-terrible-mother-for-filling-my-child-with-demon-formula mindset still holds true today. As I was letting my sweet girl sup her artificially contrived beverage, I sang to her. I sang "Teach Me To Walk in the Light of His Love." And suddenly I realized something very vital.

That song does not mention breastfeeding.

I realized that there are so many beautiful, powerful, and loving ways that I care for my children, that I raise them in light and truth. And that was the last time I felt guilty about not being a decent jersey cow for my kids. I give it my best effort, but I am happy to accept that said effort is good enough.

I think that principle applies now. I am realizing that as many children as there are in this world, there are that many good ways to raise them. Every single person learns, parents, serves, guides, and progresses in their own unique way. I stand in judgment of noone. This little path of mine isn't what I envisioned, and I probably wouldn't have picked it out of a lineup. But, it is mine, all mine, and I plan to run it in the best way I know how. And I have a funny feeling that everything will be just fine if I do.

Solo Time

Once in awhile I get them. Strokes of genius. Of course other times I worryI might get another kind of stroke, but this was a good 'un.

For the last week or so I've been spending a half hour of solo time with Isaac after the two little ladies were in bed. We've played Monopoly (he trounced me) and watched Disney channel and in general reminded each other how cool we are and how fun it is to hang out. Then, I had the idea to spread the joy. So, we've begun the rotation. Two go to bed, one stays up with me for a half hour for whatever they want to do. Last night, Lucy and I played Fancy Nancy. Tonight, Emma and I had ice cream and she put stickers on my legs. Fabulous.

As I was spending time tonight with Emma, a thought ran across my brain, that perhaps this is what the Lord wants when He asks us to "draw near unto Him." Maybe He just wants some solo time. In all His omnipotence, He is available for personal time whenever we want. I have no idea how that works, but I do feel confident that when I pray, I have His attention, no matter how many other millions of worthy souls are clamoring for comfort and communication as well. In that moment, I am truly important to Him. And that is how We will come to know each other. That is how I can be reminded how wonderful He is, and He can hear, from me, all about my day, my fears, my joys, and the deep thoughts in my heart that only He can understand. That is a pretty precious solo time for this daughter and her Father. I think I can make more of it.

I am so grateful to be a mother. It teaches me about God every day. I have three hilarious, creative, loud, energetic, bright, happy kids. And I really love being their mother, especially every night between 8 and 8:30 over a bowl of ice cream and a game of Monopoly.

Therewith To Be Content*

I am really grateful for the last 3 months of my life.

Here is what I am grateful for:

-My children are healthy, bright, creative, and relatively well-adjusted
-I have abandoned the habit of wasting time searching for houses in areas that I think we might one day be interested in living
-I have learned that beating yourself up about past decisions is a complete and utter waste of mortality. We do the best we can and then we move on. I have wondered if we made ill-informed decisions that have thrust us into less than ideal circumstances, but then I remember that every step of the way we have searched, pondered, prayed, and done our very best. And I believe God would have stopped us if our direction had been bad. In these last few months, perhaps learning has been more important than success.
-My marriage is stronger. We appreciate each other more. We love each other more deeply. We laugh and enjoy and have become prolific texters. I have a fabulous, caring, sensitive, funny, and super hot husband. And I think I know that more today than I did three months ago.
-I have a profoundly generous mother who lets us live with her, reacts gracefully when my children break her things, and is trying hard to be positive as she watches her daughter grapple with some very difficult things. In some ways we look at life in far different ways, but I have learned how blessed I am to have such a generous mother.

In short, I have become a better person in the last few months, and I don't know that this growth would have been possible in any other way. I don't anticipate that we are moving out of this phase anytime soon. And that is okay. I think that perhaps what I am most grateful for is that I am living in the present more now than I every have before. I am truly taking each day for what it is. Perhaps it will go well, perhaps it will not. Perhaps my kids will be calm, quiet, and love all my ideas. . . but most likely they will not. And still, life goes on. Still, I can glorify God. I can be content. He has brought me a long way in learning how to do that. I feel a new tranquility settling into my soul. That is a miracle. God is a God of miracles. Even the ones we thought we didn't want.



*PHILIPPIANS 4:11