Savoring the suffering

Ecclesiastes 7:2-3 It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of everyone; the living should take this to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better and gains gladness.


Let me just put this out there:  I love eating.   Going out to eat, cooking for people, holiday meals, sharing dinner with a friend...all of it.    All-inclusive food in resorts and on cruises? Yes, please.  YES.  I just LOVE it.  I read this Twitter post yesterday and it made me laugh:  "Dear men, Actually our dream isn't finding the perfect guy, it's being able to eat without getting fat. Sincerely, women."  True story!


So, when I recently read Ecclesiastes 7 (after listening to the song story for this song - more on that later), I was confuzzled at first.  Based on experience, the logic struck me as a little strange.   A house of feasting is fun.  But, I've been to the house of mourning on a few occasions.  Not so fun.   When I think of mourning, I think of September 11.  I was still living in NYC on what started off as a perfect Tuesday.  After the planes hit, I saw fear and disbelief on the faces of people in the streets.  I watched those buildings fall with my own eyes.  I know people who lost loved ones.  I know people who survived.  My brother-in-law was a cop who worked down there in the days and weeks that followed.  I have never seen so much mourning in my life as I did in the time following that horrific day.  


But I have also never seen so much hope. I remember that my church was packed for months after that.  Heroes abounded.  Random acts of kindness spread.   New Yorkers were actually nice to each other.  Even though I deeply wish it never happened, that Tuesday changed a lot of people, for the good, forever.  Tragedies have a way of reminding us how short life is.  That's what Solomon is talking in that verse.  Mourning reminds you to live well.  Now. 

Chances are you've dealt with intense sorrow at some point in your life.  There are plenty of things worse than divorce, but divorce is one thing I can speak to.  The sorrow of betrayal is deep.  The humiliation is terrible.  Life is interrupted, lies are exposed and confusion abounds.  Sometimes the hurt is so heavy that it truly is hard to breathe.  If you've been there or in a million other places of pain that doesn't make sense, you know. Yet, I can say this now:  More than three years after the worst of the worst days, I wouldn't trade that pain for the world.  I've never felt closer to God and I've never felt God was closer to me.  Friends surrounded me.  My kids gave me unspeakable joy and most days, they were the only reason I smiled.  That pain helped me more than it hurt me.  It taught me some very valuable lessons about life and love, and made me appreciate times of "feasting".  The tears stung but, like a good cleaning, they scoured my heart (Ecc. 7:3 MSG) and made it glad.


I guarantee you, at the time I wasn't thinking "Phew! I'm glad life SUCKS right now because my heart really needs some scouring!"  I'm not that wise (at all).  Looking back though, I see the good in it.  I see how it's helped me help others and how I'm a better woman and mother for it.  I'm still learning (sometimes the hard way), but definitely an improved Sarah.  


The other day something happened that hurt me. Minor, but it just opened up a lot of other wounds and I found myself sulking around and wanting Ben and Jerry's.  That night I heard the song I've linked to below (which led me to the chapter in Ecclesiastes) and it reminded me that there is no hurt on earth that God can't handle.  And just when you think you can't take one.more.second., the hurt and the Healer collide.  


Whatever you're facing today, as painful as it may be, savor the suffering.  Breathe it in 
deep and know that not a tear is wasted.  Let your heart be glad.  You're alive.

Changes

The title of this post is less than impressive. And it bothers me.  But my brain is pretty much fried today, so just pretend it's some witty, creative, enticing title.

In the six or seven months since I've been blogging, I've gotten a lot of feedback from my posts. Some have poured their heart out to me. Some have told me they laughed (with me, I hope haha).  Some I've even talked to on the phone, random strangers brought together by a common journey.

Many people have been asking and encouraging me to update it more often.  There were a few things that made this difficult. First of all, like most of us, my life is just all kinds of busy.  My day usually begins around 5:45 am and ends after midnight.  And like most mothers, working or not, I do about 3,402 things in that time period.  Second of all, the topics here are quite heavy.  I can't just decide I'm going to talk about forgiveness and come up with some words that stir you.  Usually, if I post on something like forgiveness, its because the previous day I have FLIPPED out on someone I was having trouble forgiving.  Just being honest...

One of my closest friends, Jenn,  writes a blog that is a great read.  Check it out when you have a chance!  Anyway, she started a little schedule on hers and I'm totally copying off of that idea.  So, here is the schedule I'm going to try to follow from here on out. Obviously, when I flip out on someone and realize I need to blog more about forgiveness (or anger management classes), I will. This is just a short list for now, because I want to ensure I can keep with it.  As usual, if there's anything you'd like to read about, feel free to comment on my Facebook page, letting me know your thoughts!

Here they are (excuse the cheesy alliteration of the titles...but, we all need to be cornballs once in a while):

Motherhood Mondays - Blogs about the ups and down of single parenting.  Sharing the laughs, misfortunes, near-death experiences, meltdowns, smiles and lessons learned.  Even married moms can relate on some level, but no matter how much your husband works, single parenting is a different BEAST altogether...so this should be fun.  You may also think I'm a psycho mom.  Again, fun.

Winning Wednesdays - I'll be sharing some of the ways I'm winning in this journey.  I've only dedicated one day to it because, well, guess.  Every so often, though, the stars align and I find myself winning some battle.  I also look forward to hearing about how you are winning in this game of life.

Thankful Thursdays - I love and am slightly obsessed with the book One Thousand Gifts.  It really is probably the best book I've ever read.  Therefore, I really wanted to dedicate some posts to focusing on all the things I am grateful for because there are many!

Fun Fridays - Something funny.  My life is full of fun and awkwardness and randomness and more fun.  I also have funny friends.  Laugh with me. Laugh at me. Whatever!

Singleness Sundays -  When inspired, I'll try to pay homage to my excellent adventures in singleness.


Stay tuned for more!

Peace out.

A Love Story

Happy belated Valentine's Day!  Hope it was, as my son says about nearly everything, "awesome"!

You've read the title of this blog and efore you get all excited, let me burst your bubble.  I am not about to tell you I met someone.  Not even close.  Not even close to close.  Actually, I'm pretty sure my 6 year old has a better love life than I do.  Oh, many an awkward moment I've had, that's for sure...but no one even slightly acceptable (on a good day) has crossed my path.  When my ex-husband moved out, everyone asked me when I would start dating again.  Date?!  I'd rather scratch my eyes out with a spork, thankyouverymuch.  My feelings aren't that strong anymore, but the opportunity just hasn't presented itself.  I said I wouldn't date until I was 30 (I was 27 at the time).  30 just came.  I now joke that every birthday, I will start saying "well, I didn't want to date until I was 31 anyway...".

However, there is a love story in the works here.  The story began before I was born.  A God who formed me and knew me in my mother's womb. Who carried me through to a healthy birth, all 9 lbs. 12oz. of me (my poor mother).  A God who brought comfort when I lost my mom.  A God who was near in the years that followed, both good and bad times.  A God who protected me in my comings and goings, safety I too often take for granted.  A God who was with me when I lost two babies, practically unknown and unseen to the world, but so very real to me.  A God who smiled with me when my two living babies were born.  A God who was with me during some very dark, confusing and humiliating times, a comforting and constant presence in the midst of chaos.  A God who has provided for me financially, who has protected my children, who has given me all I ever need and even some things I don't.

This is so hard for me to admit, but there are times when the beasts of loneliness and disappointment hurt like you can't imagine (well, you probably can).  It's that familiar weight on the heart that I can physically feel.  Usually I'm too busy to deal, but sometimes I have to allow myself to feel it.  I'm a huge joker, so most people can't even imagine me being all weepy and hot-mess-ugly-cry-ish, complete with dripping snot and what not.  But it happens.  It isn't too often, really.  Most days (yes, even Valentine's day) ridin' solo is just fine with me. I don't even think about it.  But then I pop in some stupid Nicholas Sparks movie.  Or I can't take one more nanosecond of my daughter's attitude, and there's no one to save me (or her).  Or I have to drive my tired self home from the airport after midnight when returning from a business trip.  Or my car makes noises that I'd rather just ignore.

There are certain roles husbands are supposed to play such as protector, provider, leader.  Though it'd be nice to have that in a human, God has been that and more.  A lot of it is too personal to blog about, but I have been through situations that could've been much, much worse! Protector. I have a job that allows me to work and earn a decent living, but also be home to meet my kids when they return from school.  We have a home, a car in the driveway, food in the fridge, toys well...everywhere.  Provider.  The kids have somehow, some way, made it to their 4th and 6th birthdays.  They're healthy, they're happy and they drive me nuts.  There are times when I feel like I'm 'bout to LOSE MY MIND up in here, but they are also my greatest joy (omg, I'm a sap).  He's constantly giving me what I need to raise them and I have to lean on Him, because in reality, I don't know what the heck I'm doing!  Leader.

Just before Christmas, the women's ministry at my church felt led to give all the single moms a financial gift, along with praying for us.  Like me, I'm sure many single moms feel forgotten, especially around the holidays.  While they prayed over us, I just kept hearing the phrase "love story" in my head. This was such a beautiful love story.  (Well, I also ran out of deodorant that afternoon, and while they prayed, I was also thinking how the bright lights were making my pits sweat...but I digress.)  A lover remembers you, thinks of you, places value on you.  Even in seemingly insignificant times. Again God showed that His lasting love is tenderly caring for me.

It's a love story that life can imitate, but never reproduce.  Sure, it'd be nice to meet someone (under 50 and not socially awkward) one day.  There's a beauty in human relationships I can appreciate and marriage is His design. Yet I also know that this love story is as good as it gets.  His love runs deeper than any human's ever can and I can rest in it, because it is as sure as He is.

Seven times seventy

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The shame game

Imagine the bacteria.

I was ashamed, He called me beautiful...now I'm Yours, You call me beautiful. -  Forever and a Day

_____________________

Here's something that's outrageously pitiful to admit (and probably reason why I'm single #192), I often lay down at night and my mind won't stop producing clever status updates.  It's obnoxious.  Sometimes, i just can't turn off the jokes.  The wheels in my heard are constantly spinning.  Unfortunately, the short term memory wheels are a little rusty these days.  They're pretty much, wait...what?

I also often think of what people think of me.  "What?", you say?  "The girl that feels the need to stick her head under high-powered hand dryers just for laughs...she cares what people think?"  I do.  And I think of what it is they're thinking.  Most of which they're probably not thinking at all, but in my head they are. And then I stress.

As an example of the absurdity, here's what it's like to be inside my head sometimes:

Jane Doe:  Hi Sarah, <insert ever awkward side hug here> where are the midget wrestlers?

Me:  "Heyyyy girl (cause I always have to say that)...they're with their dad today."

My brain:  Good one.  She's probably going to think you had them out of wedlock or something. Maybe you should say "ex-husband" next time.  Oh, but ex-husband sounds so...bitter.  She'll probably think you're some bitter divorcee, on the prowl for a new man, probably her husband.  Great.  

I often play this game with myself.  I'm sometimes embarrassed when people see me out in public, wrangling in two wild animals (children), with no wedding band on.  Oh, it's not so bad when the midget wrestlers are behaving like angels, but that happens (way) less often than I'd care to admit.  I feel like people eye my ring finger and think "tssk, tssk, tssk".

When I first started going to my new church, I was a little embarrassed by my marital status, or lack thereof.  No one there knew my story.  Many still don't.  Its not like you want to sign your kids into Sunday school, and promptly announce the reason for your divorce. It's not cool. And it's not necessary. Oh, but it's tempting.

You see, I thought I did everything right. Dated for two years. Went through pre-marital classes.  Took personality tests to analyze our compatibility. Got my dad's approval.  Got my pastor's approval.  Married in church.  Waited two years before babies.  Yet still, it all blew up in my face. And I think "how did I not see it?!" And then I feel stupid.  And ashamed.

I sometimes feel the need to justify myself.  Justify the divorce.  Explain that I waited over two years before I even went through with it. Explain his unwillingness to change. Explain the fact that I called my pastor in NY to get some counsel about it.  Explain how difficult asking my ex to move out was for me.  And a million other things I dealt with during that time (none of which are blog-appropriate).

During those times though, I often call that familiar verse to mind:  "Do not be afraid; you will not suffer shame.  Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated... (Is. 54)".  

I have felt shame. And I most definitely have been humiliated.  Those times were moments though, not a state of being.  Not caused by my decisions.  And not who I am.  I know that I know that God and I have dealt with this.  I know that, to the very end, I honored my commitment to God and to my spouse.  I know that I received Godly counsel from my pastor in NY (which was a godsend, love you PJR and Evelyn!) and that it meant more to me than they'll ever know.  I know that the few friends I love and and respect and trust more than anyone in the world supported me.  God doesn't condemn me, so why do I feel like if others do, it matters? More over, why do I feel I condemn myself?  

Instead of lending myself to those feelings, I want to let my life speak in the here and now.  I can have joy. I can have peace. I can attempt to raise normal human beings.  I can speak to others going through similar situations, telling them there is a light at the end of the long, dark tunnel.  I can live without shame, leaving the past where it is, but appreciating all it has given to my present and future.

Choosing to see...

What if your blessings come through raindrops, what if your healing comes through tears?  What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise? 
____________________

I heard a commercial for a jewelry company the other day. The last line said "you shouldn't have to settle on the engagement rings of your dreams."  Really??  It's crazy to me that some may consider "settling" on a diamond to be so cruel.  Yet, sometimes we (I) get so comfortable in how lucky we are, that we begin to have a very warped perception of suffering.

Suffering isn't a smaller diamond than you'd like (hey, you're getting married).
Suffering isn't singleness (you definitely won't get in a fight tonight).
Suffering isn't that there are no Starbucks within a 1 mile radius (you just saved $4.00).
Suffering isn't the fact that Josh Elliott hasn't realized I'm the woman of his dreams yet (oh...he will).
Suffering isn't the inability to buy the shoes I want (I have plenty).
Suffering isn't turning 30 (you're alive).

How many times have I allowed foolish discomforts to take away appreciation of my blessings?

I've often shaken the proverbial fist at God, wondering why I've faced some of the situations I have.  I  wonder why I had to grow up without my mother.  I'd look at friends who'd gotten married around the same time as me, and I'd wonder why I was the the unlucky one.  Before I had my two living children, I lost two. I wondered why are other people had healthy babies and I was losing mine.  Why do some people seem to have the good life and some people have it so hard?  Why do some people experience so much suffering, and some experience none?

Despite some trials in my life, the past couple of weeks have reminded me about how blessed I am.  I've been reading One Thousand Gifts, challenging me to count the gifts in my life.  I was also recently reminded of how fleeting life is. Two people from high school passed away recently, one leaving three small children.  Then one of my closest friend's friend went to be with the Lord this week.  I'd only met her once but she had kids around the same ages as mine, and I remember us comparing parenting survival stories.  She was a beautiful woman who passed way too young, leaving two small children and a husband behind.

It was another opportunity to ask God, WHY?  Why do this woman's young children have to grow up without their mother?  It brought up feelings that linger from experiencing my own mother's death as a young girl, never really having an opportunity to grieve the loss.  In your head you know God is good.  In your heart, though, you can't make sense of tragedies like that.

Do you have a hard time making sense of your life?  Why that husband left?  Why you lost that job?  Why you're still single?  Why you're sick?  Why you lost a loved one?

I'm beginning to learn that, in situations like that, we will sometimes never see the sense in it on this side of eternity.  God's ways are higher than ours. He works ALL things together for our good.  Sometimes we just have to let go and trust Him.   Believe me, I have NOT mastered this.  Yet, when I look back on the past few years, purposefully looking for the good things, I notice that so many blessings have flowed from my pain.  I have strength and self-confidence and trust like I've never known.  I am closer to God than I ever was.  I know He is protecting and providing for my children and I.

And then there are seemingly little things, but they are huge. Warm homes.  A cup of coffee in our hands.  A tiny voice begging to play.  A baby's squeals of joy.  Tea parties using plastic utensils covered with God knows what.  Health.  A job.  A good song.  A sunny day.

Sometimes it's hard to see blessings with our bare eyes. Search for them.  Choose to see them. They are worth finding.

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This song has such great lyrics...will you choose to see His "mercies in disguise"?

Sharing is caring

I'm reading a book titled One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp.  It is one of the best books I have ever read (I only recommend books that I love) and is changing my life! Oh, and yes, there's an app for that (One Thousand Gifts by Zondervan, available in the App Store).  Anyhow, the book is really helping me to deal with emotions I've been stuffing down for years! Yes, I'm a stuffer.

I've been kind of quiet on the blog, on facebook and twitterland because I've been so into the words of the book, and blown away by what God is saying through the author!  I could write a thousand blogs on it, but for now I am going to share one of her blogs.

I so identify with the feelings she expresses here.  Take a look and tell me if you can relate...

A Holy Experience:  When you wonder if you disappoint

Being Supermom

When you get a chance, check out this blog!  A friend posted it earlier this week and it's probably why all this "supermom" stuff was on my mind.   It speaks to every mom, single or not. 
__________________________

The other night, the midget wrestlers came to dinner dressed in their superhero costumes.  I joked on twitter that if my kids were Spiderman and Supergirl, that must make me Supermom.  I say "joked" because I know I am anyone other than Supermom or Superwoman.  And because I'm pretty much always joking around.

I admit it.  I'm not one of "those" moms who makes a homemade advent calendar that I sewed together with thread I found on clearance.  I don't make perfect little color coordinated chore charts.  I don't make my kids' birthday cakes from scratch.  I work.  I probably have unknown species of dust on my wood floors at any given time.  I shout at my kids' sometimes.  I forget snacks for their class.  I don't do 20 minutes of reading with them every single night.  I don't do coupon clipping (yet).  The idea of homeschooling makes me twitch.  J's scrapbook of his first year is only 3/4 finished.  He's about to be 6.  Don't even ASK about the second child.  Oh, and there is a lot more. Add that to the guilt of them growing up in a single parent household and it's obvious -- they've been cheated in this life with me as their mom.

Or have they?

Us women are so quick to beat ourselves up.  I, for some reason, have a hard time accepting compliments.   If you tell me I look pretty, I joke around about how I'm really not as pretty as it looks and I spent an ungodly amount of time doing my hair that morning.  If you tell me my outfit is nice, I start announcing where I got every piece and how much it cost (because it's always inexpensive). I even have friends who tell me "you look pretty and just say thank you before I hit you."  I don't know why I do that..but I do.   Have you diagnosed me yet? Good, bill me.  When people tell me I'm a good mother, in my head I think "ohhhh, but you don't live with me."

You see, this is never the way I envisioned my motherhood experience. I had visions of driving a minivan. My daughters would all go to ballet and my sons would all be in little league. I'd be a stay at home mom and drive them around wherever they needed to go.  We'd go on annual vacations to tropical locales.  I'd have time to volunteer.  On every holiday we'd make a perfect little craft and then I'd save it in my perfect little bin and store it in my perfectly organized garage.  My husband and I (yes, there'd be a husband) would have Christmas parties every year and I'd make 193 homemade dishes for said party.  We'd have movie nights where the whole family would pile up on the couch and stuff popcorn down our mouths.  My children would always be well-behaved. I wouldn't dare co-sleep.  We'd all wear matchy-matchy outfits for Easter.

Ah, life.  It didn't turn out quite the way I planned it...at all.  In reality, my daughter loudly announces every occurrence of her flatulence, no matter where we are. They fight.  Every night, at some point before dawn, my four year old still climbs in my bed.  I don't drive a minivan (nor will I ever).  And, I don't have a husband.

I think every mother, single or not, struggles with guilt at some point or another.  Every time I travel for business, I feel like the worst mother in the world.  Every time they eat fast food, I can almost imagine their little insides rotting away.  When I microwave food, I think "how about if this is the time the radiation is a little too much?"  It bothers me that their dad gets to be "fun Chuck E. Cheese dad" and I have to be "for the 100th time, go upstairs, brush your teeth and get your pajamas on" mom.  (What the FLIP is so fun about Chuck E. Cheese anyway? It reeks of sweaty kid feet and old cheese...but I digress.)

Last night, I took my son to one of those snazzy self-serve yogurt joints.  He dug some change (and lint balls...and a candy wrapper) out of his little pockets and paid for $.65 of the bill.  I told him I was so proud of him for being such a gentleman. He hugged me and said "you are just the most super mommy there ever was and you're the most beautiful mommy in the world".  (Tell all your daughters to take a number.)  I thought to myself "I must be doing something right."

For a change, I thought of what I had done right recently.  I packed his lunch with a little note saying I loved him.  I let him buy a Rice Krispies treat.  I met him at school for lunch.  I bought 20 cans for his school food drive, so his class could win a pizza party (oh yea, and so that hungry people could eat).  All three of us had an impromptu dance party...I even did the Running Man (and no, it wasn't pretty).  I made Josiah mashed potatoes the way he likes them.  I bought E a(nother) fabulous outfit.  We did morning devotions.  I prayed for them before they walked into school. We prayed before they went to bed. I read them a Christmas story.  I listened to my daughter's Christmas wish list for the 104th time.  We made silly (ugly) faces and took pictures of ourselves.

I don't say all that to brag because believe me -- for every thing I've done right, I've done about 100 things wrong (see, I can't even accept my own compliments!).  I only say it to encourage you to think of the things you are doing right.  Push back concerns of everything you can't offer your children, and celebrate what you can.

What makes you supermom (or superdad) in the eyes of your children?

Enjoying the ride

"Snowstorm" in Charlotte

I've learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I'm just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I've found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.  - Philippians 4:11-13

______________________

Ever been lost?  My sister, Amy, gets lost everywhere she goes.  And by everywhere, I mean everywhere.  When we were younger, she never had to rely upon any sense of direction because I was older and where I led, she followed.  Actually, she hopped incessantly...but that's a whole 'notha blog.  When she started college, she was a mess. She'd get lost on the same subways we had rode since middle school.  She couldn't understand how the whole uptown/downtown thing worked and assumed if a train said it was going to Queens, it must be the right one.  One year, NYC experienced a citywide blackout. I instructed her she needed to walk home across the 59th Street bridge. Her response?  "WHERE IS THAT?!" (And yes, it was on 59th Street.)

Luckily, I rarely get lost. I've also never really had a hard time feeling like I "fit in."  I've had moments of awkwardness, sure.  However, until all the infidelity was discovered, leading to the separation and divorce, I never felt "lost".

Let me rewind to a Saturday night a few months back.  A friend had invited me over for a girls' night at her house, but I couldn't go because I had no one to watch my kids.  I stopped by to drop off something I had bought for the party and as I left, I felt that familiar feeling wash over me again.  It was the feeling of being lost in between two worlds, seemingly having no place to belong. Yes, I have a family.  I'm incredibly lucky to have two children I'm raising, experiencing both the glamorous and the not-so-glamorous moments in parenting.  We do the family things; food shopping, cartoons, baths, meals, tantrums, hugs, kisses etc. Although they drive me insane sometimes, I am unbelievably privileged to be their mom.  However, I'm also a single woman.  Here in suburgatory, single parents aren't found too often.  It's sometimes awkward going to family and school functions, being the only single parent there.   Almost every single mom (and maybe single dads too) I know identifies with this feeling of being caught in between two worlds.  It's easy to feel forgotten. Life as you planned it is passing you by and there is nothing you can do about it.  

On that Saturday night, I ended up taking the kids out and had a great time just being with them.  A outdoor band was playing and my son shook his bony little butt like nobody's business. (I don't know where he gets it, I swear.)  I laughed, but I had no one to share the moment with and once again, that feeling returned.  I looked around at all the families walking around that night and couldn't help the "why me?".  This is never the way I pictured my life looking and it sure isn't the way I wanted it.

As soon as that thought passed in my mind though, I immediately regretted it.  I looked at my kids.  They were happy, healthy and exhibiting pure tomfoolery in public. Parenting them is tough sometimes but they also bring me joy like I have never known. I am healthy.  I have a great job.  I have wonderful friends.  I have a nice car.  I have a nice house.  I have a great family.  And on this night, I really could not ask for more.

I'm not lost. I've just detoured off the planned route.  However, I'm learning to enjoy the detour, because life is still happening here.  I don't want to miss out on this part of my life, and especially of my kids' lives, because I am so worried about getting back on track.  Even though there is sometimes rough terrain, I know that I am right where I'm supposed to be.

What have you learned on life's detours?

Redemption (and the book you NEED to read)

I know it's been, um, forever since my last post!  Life is crazy and full of school, report cards, birthday parties, book fairs, school lunches and a very active social life...and that's just my kids. As for me, you can find me on any given Friday night in front of an episode of Dateline.  Lucky me.  Anyway,  I promise I have a few coming down the pike very soon!  


Now, if you are a single mom and have a pulse, you NEED to read this book:  My Single Mom Life by Angela Thomas.  Buy it...now. It's $6.00 new on Amazon...you'll live (maybe) if you give up two cups of Starbucks to buy this book.

Ok, done?  Great.

So, when my ex-husband first left and I was in an unbelievably confused and stressful emotional state, my friend, who had been through a similar situation, recommended this book (big shout out to my fellow Queens girl, Rachel!).  It sounds a little crazy now, but when it first happened I was so worried about my kids.  Although I still worry about them, my worries are a little more rational now.  Back then, all I could do was picture them as adults on an episode of Intervention, sticking a needle in their arm and explaining, through high-induced drooping eyelids, that this all started when their parents divorced.  I've since learned that, although divorce is never what you want for your children, God is bigger than anything this world will throw their way! They are safe in His arms.  

Okay, Im going off on a tangent here...bear with me! As I was saying, I love this book so much that I have read and reread it numerous times.  Sometimes I read the entire book, sometimes just chapters at a time.  Today I picked it up and although  I had highlighted this portion before, it really blew me away today.  I believe it's because I am now 2 1/2 years away from what was probably the worst day of my life.  I am looking at it from this perspective now, instead of being inside it. I know I've made it out of things I'd never thought I'd make it through.  So, hold on to your hat and read this:

Making a trade (page 26)

Redemption is when you bring something of little value or which has become a liability, and an exchange is made for something better. You trade in wounds and consequences for astounding, lovely blessings, in spite of the negative, or maybe because of it. In the fullness of redemption, brokenness is mended by love. Aimless wandering becomes satisfied, visionary living. Lies are traded for truth. Mourning becomes dancing. A million broken pieces are rearranged into a vibrant, intact, beyond-your-wildest-dreams journey.

That kind of redeeming trade has happened for me.  And the exchange just keeps on going.  The One who is making the trade, the Redeemer, is the One I call Perfect Love, God, the only One who can turn broken into beautiful.  Apart from his faithfulness to me, there would never have been redemption.  I am convinced that His mercy is the means by which my life began again.  Without His precious love, I'm sure I'd be in an unmarked cave somewhere, probably all moldy by now and nearly blind from squinting in the dark.  Instead, I am incredibly grateful that God wouldn't let that happen, even to a woman like me.  And what He has done for me, He is ready to do for you.

He redeemed my soul from going down to the pit, and I will live to enjoy the light  - Job 33:28

Good, right?! I told you.  Oh, by the way, you should really buy the book.

Reading through it, again and again, made me focus on the ways I have experienced redemption in the past two years.

• I used to cry every.single.day.  Now, I don't! Speaking of, do you ever cry at those new Fisher-Price Christmas commercials?? No? Me neither.
• I'm not constantly consumed by who, what, when, where and why.  When everything first happened, I was completely obsessed with finding out the truth.  I never found out too much.   These days, I have learned to be okay with the fact that I won't ever know everything.  And that's okay.  Actually, I don't think I WANT to know much more.  Each little piece of information tears out a piece of your heart, and I've learned the hard way that the knowledge isn't worth the price.
• The peace I have now is something I felt was completely out of reach for me.  
• I'm getting a little wiser.  Wisdom is something I've really been trying to pursue recently. I've been reading the book of Proverbs and making a conscious effort to KNOW wisdom.  Proverbs 2:10-11 says "For wisdom will enter your heart, and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul.  Discretion will protect you, and understanding will guard you."  Homegirl, I don't know about you, but I want my soul to be pleasant and I want my little family to be protected and guarded by wisdom. As a single mom, you need LOTS of wisdom. I'm definitely not a expert on wisdom...I let my son bring a water gun into the bathtub the other night. NOT wise.  However, I'm pursuing it and I know God has redeemed my worry for His wisdom.  What a bargain! 
• My kids have survived thus far...and are happy and healthy.
• I have survived my kids.  
• I have had numerous people approach me with difficulties they are experiencing in their marriage. I have been able to offer them words of advice and pass on a little bit of the hope I have acquired in the past few years.  I remember how a few friends were my LIFELINE back then, and I am happy to be someone else's.

I can think of a hundred more, but I don't want to bore you. I want to know from you now!  Look back on your life. In what ways have you been redeemed?  Even if you dont want to share in a public forum, I encourage you to write them down.  I promise you that you will be so encouraged!

Explaining the unexplainable



My "favorite" son



Proverbs 24:14
Know also that wisdom is sweet to your soul; if you find it, there is a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off.

My firstborn, Josiah, is the sweetest little guy.  He has such a soft heart and as a baby he'd often cry when my sister sang him lullabies.  Sometimes, when he laughs so hard that he cries, he often ends up actually crying...it's hilarious to watch.  Josiah was only 3 1/2 when his dad left, but he remembers him living here.  He doesn't remember much of the tension that was in the house at that time (or he doesn't mention it) but I know he felt it back then. 

After their dad left, I had no idea how to explain it to my children.  My daughter was only 18 months so I couldnt really tell her much, but I knew Josiah needed an age-appropriate explanation.  At the time, I just held him over with short answers and at times, changed the subject. I just didn't know what to say.  He was still seeing his dad regularly, but I knew one day I'd have to explain the situation in a little more detail.

One night when he was about 4, we were driving home and out of nowhere, Josiah burst into tears.  "I miss my daddy!"  Without knowing how to handle it, and without being able to comfort him while driving, I just kept saying "its okay, Josiah...its okay to miss daddy."  By the time we got home, he had already stopped crying but I knew his little heart was still aching.  For a second I considered putting on a cartoon, reading a book, playing a game; anything to take his mind off of it and to save me from having to explain the unexplainable.  However, I knew I had to confront the issue.  How do you explain divorce to a child? I could barely wrap my mind around the questions of "why?" so how was I to explain the unexplainable to a preschooler?

I went up to his room and sat him down. I quickly asked (begged) God for wisdom, hugged him and told him one thing:  "it's okay to be sad".  He looked at me as if to say "Really?!"

As moms (or dads), we want the best for our children.  Unfortunately, its impossible to go throughout this life and not experience pain.  The important lesson I'm trying to teach my children (and trying to learn myself) is to allow themselves to feel the pain and embrace the lessons they're going to learn from that time.  I feel bad for them often. I hate that they're hurting.  I hate not being able to protect them from that hurt. I hate that they don't get to experience a "normal" family (whatever that is these days).  I hate that they may one day experience the issues that having stepmom or stepdad may bring. I hate having to explain someone else's bad decisions to them.  I do know one thing, though...this will not define them.  I never want the term "divorce" to be a crutch to them throughout their lives. 

Yes, its unfair.  However, if handled wisely, hard times can often bring about stronger people.  Even if this never would have happened, difficult times would have still come knocking at their door at one time or another.  I hope that, through this situation, they will gain great wisdom.  I hope my son will learn to honor and treasure his future wife.  I hope my daughter learns to choose her mate wisely, and isn't led astray because she is looking for love in all the wrong places. I pray that they value marriage, even if they don't marry.  Most of all, I pray that they are confident in their future knowing God walks alongside of them, in the good times and the bad.

How do you deal with your child's hurt, whether divorce related or not? 

Mourning the loss

Psalm 71:20-21
²⁰ Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again;
from the depths of the earth
   you will again bring me up.
²¹ You will increase my honor
   and comfort me once again.
 

It has rained at almost every funeral I've ever been to.  I was only seven years old at the time, but I can still remember the day of my mother's burial.  My mind can still picture being inside the black limousine, watching the rain fall in sheets outside the window.  There was a dark grey sky and a cold chill in the air.  Depressing, and rightfully so, because my mother was only 38 years old.  She was a wonderful, godly woman and loved by all those around her.  My sister and I were only five and seven.  It wasn't fair. No mother should miss out on raising her children and no child should miss out on having their mother around. 

The day my divorce was to be finalized, I woke up to another dark grey sky, the ground wet from rain.  The day was almost full of torrential downpours and powerful thunderstorms.  After an over ten day stretch of sweltering hot weather, I'm sure many people were happy to see the rain. I wasn't one of them.  I figured a little sunshine would've made the day more bearable.  I wasn't surprised by the rain though, since today was the day I was to face the burial of my marriage and all that came along with it; hopes, dreams, promises, lies, hurt, betrayal, etc.

The day I got the first legal papers, a few months prior, was harder than I thought.  Something about seeing my childrens' names on a legal document broke my heart.  "It wasn't supposed to be this way" I thought to myself.  On this day, however, I didn't have to go to court to sign anything.  I didn't have to face my ex-husband who, at one time, promised to love, honor and be faithful to me.  I didn't have to walk into a courthouse and watch a judge take two seconds to sign away almost eight years of my life; both happy times and sad times. I wasn't going to hear the truth about things that were and are kept secret.  I wasn't going to get any answers to the countless questions I had.

The only way I could describe my feelings that day would be to compare it what I think it would be like to have a terminally sick relative.  You know they are sick and you know their final breath is imminent, but its hard to wrap your mind around the actual threat.  Somewhere, deep inside, you hold out hope.  The day they actually die, there is considerable sadness but there is also some relief.  That's how I felt that day.  Over two years went by between the separation and divorce.  In a lot of ways, I knew that the marriage was beyond help and I already felt divorced in a lot of ways.  Still, the nonchalant email I received from my lawyer's paralegal sealed its fate:

"Dear Mrs. Xxxxx,

I just wanted to let you know that your divorce has been finalized and I have mailed a copy out to you.

Thanks and have a good weekend."

(To which my sarcastic little mind replied, "Oh, you too!")

That day, I had to make a decision in my heart to once again grieve the loss. This time it was final.  Like an actual death, there was some sadness and then there was a small sense of closure.  That chapter of my life was now over.  I could finally exhale.

Just because I have mourned and buried this part of my life doesn't mean I won't ever feel sadness again.  Just like I still cry for my mom sometimes, my kids and I will cry over this.  As sure as I know my future holds some sadness, I also know it holds good things!  Hard times and happy times are on the horizon for my kids and I, and we are not staying at the cemetery!

You reap what you sow

Whose kid is that?

Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. - Psalm 126:5

This picture always makes me laugh inside.  It was Thanksgiving day and all was right with the world, except that Ella left her other stuffed animal inside the house and I wouldn't let her go back in to retrieve it.  Mean mom, I know...but one incessantly barking stuffed animal with freakishly long lasting batteries is about as much as I can take!

I have often felt the way Ella looks in this picture.  I was never a person who cried easily, but now I'm one of those girls who cries at Disney movies and baby commercials. I do have things to cry about, some significant and some insignificant.  Crying when I hear my son talking to his friend about how his daddy doesn't live with us?  Significant.  Crying because I'm PMS'ing and can't find a cheeseburger joint when I really, really, really want a cheeseburger?  Insignificant. (I wish I was joking.)

The verse above was written in my journal and dated July 24, 2009...only six weeks after my husband had left.  I spent every day consistently on the verge of tears.  I was so concerned over how all of it was going to affect my children. I worried about their future, my health, what people thought, finances, etc.  On this day in particular, I was looking for hope past the tears.  I longed for the day when the happy moments outnumbered the sad ones.  I found this verse and wrote it in my journal, anticipating the day when the harvest of joy would be reaped.

I didn't really read all the words to this verse.  All my mind saw was "tears" and "joy".  At the time I thought in my mind "sad now, happy later". However, "sowing" involves labor.  Forgive me for knowing close to nada about sowing, but I was raised in New York City aka the concrete jungle...there are no farmers to be found.  I can, however, imagine that sowing seeds must be backbreaking work.  You have to do whatever is required to make sure the ground is fertile, then you have to bend over and get the seeds from whatever you hold them in and scatter them across the ground across miles of acreage.  Then you have to wait.  If you do it all correctly, you gather up the bountiful harvest you have worked for. 

I was listening to a sermon over the weekend where the guest speaker spoke from Mark 4, referring to the four types of sowers.  My pastor made the point that, if you do the math, 75% of those sowers won't bear fruit.  That got me thinking about this verse again and I saw it a little bit clearer.  A lot of people use the phrase "you reap what you sow" with a negative connotation.  However, I think there can be a very positive harvest, if you sow the right thing.    What am I sowing into my life through my tears?  Am I sowing disappointment? Discouragement?  Bitterness?  Failure?  Am I resigning myself to the idea that my kids are virtually screwed because they now come from a broken home?  Believe me, at one point or another I have done all of these and on occasion, still do. Sowing things like that will reap me nothing of value. Instead, I'm now making a conscious effort to sow hope, love, peace, laughter, happiness, faith, humor, gentleness, discipline and other virtues into my life, the lives of my children and those around me.  Anyone who is around me knows I am not 100% succeeding in this area yet, not even close.  I am making the effort though, and I can see joy now and on the horizon!

~~~~~~

Crying is all right in its own way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do." - CS Lewis

I am woman, hear me roar (or cry...whatever)

Now that's a superwoman!

Jeremiah 29:11 (MSG) - ...I'll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for.

"Moooooommmmmyyyyyyy, the toilet won't flush again!"  With a sigh of frustration, I made my way up the stairs and prepared for another plunging session.  First try, nothing.  Second try, nada. On the third try, the toilet finally cooperated.  I couldn't celebrate the victory, though. The tears were already welling up in my eyes and I began to once again murmur the lies I was beginning to believe..."I'm not made for this.  Men are supposed to unclog toilets.  I didn't sign up for this.  I don't want to be superwoman anymore."

I practically stomped back down the stairs and my blood began to boil thinking back to the reasons why I was in this situation.  "He needs to know what he's done...that'll teach him!" I thought foolishly.  I called my ex-husband at his job and began to unleash my anger on him.  I must've missed the memo on the whole "not keeping a record of wrongs" thing, because I had his listed in chronological order and reminded him of every.single.one.  The funny thing is that was when I was done, I felt worse. Now I was an angry, bitter, psycho non-superwoman with a punk toilet.

Situations like this have played out in my house countless times in the past two years.  This day in particular though, I was overwhelmingly overwhelmed.  Many single moms identify with that feeling.  I hate to admit it, but at times I do wish there was someone with me, someone to take care of those things, to take care of us.  And then there's that realization...wait, there IS someone. 

• Isaiah 43:2 - When you pass through the waters, I will be with you...
• Matthew 28:20 - And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age...
• Joshua 1:5 - As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you...

His promise is that whoever you are, whatever you face, He is with you.   You may be walking through a very dark place in your marriage, He is with you.  You may be walking through the grief of infidelity or the horrors of separation or divorce.  He is with you.  You may be at the end of the rope with your children, overwhelmed and feeling like a failure.  Yet still, He is with you.

I can't always count on my household running smoothly (as if!) or a man being there to save the day.  I can, however, walk this unknown path laid out before me with full confidence in knowing that God walks with me every step of the way.

Update: July 29
Heard this on the radio last night and it reminded me so much of this post :) Enjoy!

A picture is worth a thousand words...

 

A mom and her midget wrestlers

...or so they say (whoever "they" is anyway).

What they didn't mention was just because a picture is worth a thousand words, doesn't mean those thousand words are worth anything.  Exhibit A: the picture at right. If you find it in your heart to get past the hideous glasses, what words come to your mind as you look at me?  Happy?  Fulfilled? Has it all? Perfectly beautiful little children?   (Oh wait, that's just me).

My sister posted this on Facebook a couple of years ago and I remember one of the comments reading "You look so happy!"  Yet, at the time this picture was taken, I was anything but happy.  I was still trying to get over my husband's first indiscretion, yet evidence of further indiscretions were starting to surface.  Sometimes, when I think back to that time, I can see this photo in my mind.  I know how sad I was on this day.  I know that almost every night after I crawled into bed, the floodgates of my heart opened and silently cried myself to sleep. The hopelessness of my situation was getting hard to bear.  The stress of hiding the truth from those I loved was eating away at my soul.

But this picture doesnt speak a thousand words about heartbreak or hopelessness or tears or broken dreams. So how about the pictures you see on a daily basis?  We're usually so fast to judge photos or be jealous of the seemingly perfect lives displayed in those photos.  Yet no one's life is perfect.  I saw this quote recently:   Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.  That's what I think when I see this picture. I was fighting a hard battle.  Even now, I am fighting hard battles.  And believe you me, I am NOT the only one fighting battles! Mine pale in comparison to others'.  That's the funny thing about life.  No matter who you are, there are hard times.  So make an effort to be kind today, even to those who don't "deserve" your kindness.  You don't know what battles they are facing.

Proverbs 17:17
A friend loves at all times...

Lasting love

Isaiah 54
You were like an abandoned wife, devastated with grief,
   and God welcomed you back,
Like a woman married young
   and then left," says your God.

 ^7-8Your Redeemer God says:
   "I left you, but only for a moment.
   Now, with enormous compassion, I'm bringing you back.
In an outburst of anger I turned my back on you—
   but only for a moment.
It's with lasting love
   that I'm tenderly caring for you.

...
I'll never forget the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, the day I first realized I was a casualty of infidelity.  It was December 14, 2007. I dont know if I remember the date because it was my sister's birthday, or because the life I thought I created for myself was about to explode in my face.  I had noticed there was a difference in him, but I could chalk it up to lots of things. I had just given birth to my second child four weeks earlier, he had just started a new job, I was recovering from a c-section, we were still in culture shock after moving from our hometown of NYC to Charlotte, leaving most of our family back home. Still, I never saw it coming. I don't know if anyone ever does. 

I won't get into the details of what happened here because my intention isn't to bash him and his choices.  However, going by what little information I had at that time, I decided to stay with him.  I tried to get over it but never really could.  I sank into a pit of loneliness, confusion and insecurity. Most of my friends and family never even knew what was going on.  I put on quite a show. It hurts to look back at pictures of myself during that time.  I can see the broken heart behind the smile. 


I switched over to emotional survival mode and never checked out. I worked and took care of my 2 year old son and newborn daughter, becoming extremely protective over them, especially my new baby girl.  At that time he paid her very little positive attention, and mostly complained about her...she cried too much, pooped too much, woke up too much.  Of course, the day she had explosive diarrhea and shot it all over him was a vindication of sorts. "That's my girl!", I thought!  Looking back, he wasn't in his right mind.  You can't live two lives and live them normally.  He didn't hate her, he just didn't know how to love her in good conscience, knowing he had another life outside the home. 

That went on for 17 more months.  I can count on one hand the number of happy days there were in those 17 months.  Of course, my babies were like little rainbows that peeked through after the storms...but there were lots of storms.

To make a very long and soap opera-ish story short, hidden things began to come to light over those 17 months and he began to fall deeper and deeper into the pit (and it IS a pit) of infidelity.  Here was a man I met and married in church, yet he pushed God further and further away...you can't serve God and lust at the same time. Finally, on a Sunday afternoon in June 2009, I found out what was going on and asked him to leave.  In short, that was the beginning of the end.

I never really grasped the term "heartbroken" until then.  It literally felt like my heart had broken. I could feel the pain in my chest day in and day out.  My stomach was in knots for weeks and I lost over 10 lbs...which at 5' tall, makes a big difference!  For almost a month, I spent almost every day in tears. And when I wasn't crying, I wandered the house aimlessly.  The news spread and I suddenly had to tell close friends and family what I had been hiding for 18 months.  I looked at my children and hurt for them, because I never, ever wanted this life for them.   There was and is so much more involved that I won't get into here, but suffice it to say I wouldn't wish divorce on anyone.  Recently, I saw a commercial for a tv show entitled "Happily Divorced".  Thats an oxymoron.  Divorce rips your heart to shreds and doesn't only mark the breakup of a relationship, but the mourning of hopes, dreams and a million other things.  It has ripple effects on people you love and you are never, ever the same.


Isaiah 54 was a passage God had burned on my heart for years.  I highlighted it in my Bible as a teenager and had read and reread it so many times.  I didnt know why. I always had a burden for young, unwed mothers but I didnt know I'd soon be one myself.  A couple of days after he left, I reread that passage and it was like God wrote it just for me...

"like an abandoned wife, devastated with grief...a woman married young and then left...It's with lasting love that I'm tenderly caring for you."Lasting love.  LASTING love.  Many search the world over to find that kind of love.  Many chase it and look for it in all the wrong places.  Many still are blessed enough to find a spouse who can offer them the best love a human can offer...lasting for a lifetime.  But that's all. Humans are limited by time but God is not.  His love is perfect and more pure than any human can ever offer. His love stays and stands the test of time. His love doesn't know the limits of stress, sickness or death.  His love lasts.


There are many reasons I wanted to start this blog, but the most important reason is so that, whether you've been divorced one day or fifty years, whether you're happily married or hopelessly miserable, whether you're a single mom struggling to make it through the day or a mom who's amazingly content with her life...there is still hope in His lasting love that this world can never offer.  Chase after it and pursue it.  He waits for you.