Letting it be

God, I look to you
I won't be overwhelmed
Give me vision, to see things like You do
Give me wisdom, You know just what to do - Jenn Johnson

"But mommmm-mmmm-mmm-mmmm-yyyyyyyyy..." my four year old whined, complete with the melodrama that usually accompanies her cries for justice.  I knew what was coming next. "It's. Not. Fai-www".

She and her brother were fighting over something meaningless.  As usual. I'm convinced that if there was an actual piece of crap laying around, and there was only one, they'd fight over it.  But I digress.

Usually they fight, one wins, and the winner does a victory dance and teases the other incessantly.  The other cries because it is't fair.  And it usually isn't. Life isn't fair.

Sometimes I feel like they feel.  I spend the day waking sleepy children, making breakfast, packing lunches, running for buses, driving to preschool, working, conference calling, picking up from preschool, working more, cleaning, picking up from the bus, working more, making dinner, forcing homework, making snacks, serving dinner, threatening no dessert if said dinner isn't eaten, cleaning up tables, playing referee  and...and...and.  Just when I'm about to wave my white flag in surrender, their dad's visitation time arrives and he gets to swoop in and save them.  From me.  And you know what comes next?  Mother's guilt, for coming very close to losing my mind. Again.

Keep in mind, I want to be very careful how I word this because I love my kids more than anything in the world.  I love that they love their dad and I don't want to get in the way of that.  I want them to choose their feelings for him based on their experiences, not mine.  And I never want to write anything I don't want them reading later, about him or about our situation. So, I'm trying to craft my words wisely, while also trying to explain how I feel.

When they are with their dad they have little rules or discipline because it's just a few hours per week.  They don't spend nights with him, so they're stuck with me at bedtime too.  When I do discipline them or set rules they don't like, I often hear "I want daddddddddy."  And though I hate to admit it, inside I am suddenly the one screaming: "It's not faiwwwww!"

And it's not.  So what am I going to do about it?  What can I do about it?

Recently, I've been struggling with this more often than I'd like to admit.  All I ever wanted to be was a mom.  All I still want to be is a mom, just not a single mom.  And definitely not responsible for the large majority of the parenting.  Currently, it's not quite happening that way, but as you know, this is not the way I planned it. It's easy to get caught up in anger and resentment.  I guess I have every right to be angry...every right to feel like I've been left with a huge responsibility.  Yet, living in a place of anger won't (and can't) do me any good.  Being resentful won't change the situation.  It will keep me, and eventually my kids, in a prison of unforgiveness and that is the last place I want us to be.

All I can do now is let it be.  Keep on keeping on.  Do the best I can.  Make meals.  Drive short people everywhere. Hug my babies.  Stop focusing on everything I lost and focus on everything I have.  Stop thinking of everything I wanted and dreamed of and planned for, and be thankful for more time with  these healthy, beautiful, patience-wearing, impressionable kids I have here.  I'm lucky that I get to be their mother.  No, life isn't perfect.  And rarely is it fair. For now, though, I choose to let it be.

What are you learning to "let be" in your life?

Motherhood Mondays: New dreams

She's got spunk.

Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God. - Corrie Ten Boom

My daughter loves to hear the "stowy" of when I was pregnant with her.  I love to tell it, because it was one of the best times in my life.  It was also the last few months of my "normal", before the truth of her dad's infidelity began to unravel.

On a summer day in 2007, I went to my doctor for a routine sonogram. I was 19 weeks pregnant and knew they'd be able to tell us the baby's gender.  I walked into the examination room, cautiously optimistic.  I wanted a little girl so badly.  I'd lost my mother as a young girl and really wanted an opportunity to have a mother/daughter relationship I'd seen others enjoy, even if it was from the other side.

When the nurse casually announced "you got your girl",  I was beyond thrilled!  That weekend, I went shopping for all the cute little outfits I could find.  And in four years, the shopping hasn't stopped.  Really.  It's the most ridiculous kind of fun.

On a windy Monday morning in November, she finally arrived.  The first time I laid my tired, puffy, a-human-just-came-out-of-my-body eyes on her perfect little face, the dreams I had for her filled my mind. Fun dreams of bows and ballet, sharing shoes, and shopping for prom dresses.  And then the more intent dreams.  I wanted her to have a "normal" family, a healthy upbringing.

Yet, even before I had given birth, the "normal" had already begun to unravel.  At age 4, the idea of a mommy and daddy living together is foreign to her. A broken home is her "normal". And that's not what I wanted for her. Ever. Who does?

If there's anything I've learned in the past few years, it's that I can't control some events that happen in my life, never mind theirs.  At first, it was easy to get wrapped up in the statistics of children who grow up in broken homes.  I mean, google them (at your own risk).  They're heartbreaking.  Divorce affects kids physically, socially and psychologically.  Single parent households are at risk for a number of different things.

I also become concerned when I look back on the issues I was dealing with when I was young, and how they affected my relationship choices.  I met and married my ex-husband seeking emotional protection and refuge...looking for what my heart needed in a human, and not in God.

However, greater than those statistics and experiences is a God who loves her more than I ever could.  A God who has her best interests at heart and has already given her all she needs to deal with life's joys and hurts.

Even though I've had to let go of some of the dreams I had for her, that's not going to stop me from dreaming new dreams.  Above all the new dreams I have, my greatest dream is this:  when she faces life's storms, I hope she rests in knowing that God is carrying her through them.

And she is watching me.  She's watching to see if I trust, if I rest, if I make it through life's storms.  Dr. Phil (who I love...don't judge!) always says the greatest role model a child has is the same sex parent.  Even if I don't notice it, she's observing every thing I do, learning how to be a woman.  That alone makes me want to do better, try harder, and most importantly, trust God more.

What are the new dreams you have for your children?

I thought I'd share these tips for single moms raising daughters.  They were taken from the same site I used in my post about single moms raising boys.  What are 



1) Don't punish the girl because you see things in her that you hate about yourself. Learn how to deal with YOU first so you can more effectively help her.

2) Being hard on her doesn't automatically equate a virtuous young woman. I'm not implying to let her do anything, heaven forbid, however; I'm implying that you should provide structure and boundaries, but not act as a prison warden.

3) Don't live your life through your daughter. Just because you were a cheerleader, doesn't mean she has to be one. Just because you were in the band, doesn't mean that she has to play an instrument.

4)When it comes to boys, she is looking at you to see how you treat (your husband, boyfriend, etc). She is listening to how you talk about men (good or bad) and this is what she is going to model in her life.

5) You can control what she wears. It's important that you train your daughter to have value in herself, long before someone "whispers in her ear." Don't say, I can't help what she wears or does. This is the door way for a long life of regrets for your daughter.

6) Just because you may have had bad experiences with men and/or relationships, don't raise your daughter to hate men, or be distrusting of everyone that she meets for the rest of her life. She is not you, even though she may have some of your traits and attributes. You can't raise her to be a "second you."

7) Build her self esteem continually with positive words and affirmations. She needs to know that she is complete all by herself and that she doesn't have to go looking for wholeness in another person or thing.

8) Spend time with her outside of school, housework, and the day to day, especially when she get older. She may not say it, but she still needs you. Spend some quality time, go out to eat, to the park, for a walk. You can't get those moments back once they are gone.

9) Raise your daughter in love and NOT fear. When you fear if she is going to get pregnant, meet the wrong guy, make the same bad choices you made, that's often what we attract. Raise her with the love of God and the faith to know that after you have done all that you can do, God will intervene and bring it all back to her remembrance.

10) Teach her how to love herself, love God, and how to remain pure and virtuous in a society where everyone is compromising. Remember, when you teach your daughter...you teach your daughter's daughter.

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.

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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

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!

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.