The school year has begun, and the boys are off on a wild adventure of learning, growing and discovering more about themselves. Kevin has begun his fourth year of teaching, embracing his dream career and all the amazing things that has come from it. And, I am sitting here in a silent house feeling something I wasn't expecting: loneliness. I was excited to have quiet, something I didn't experience much at all during the summer. But, now, the reality is this quiet is deafening to me...
Over the past few months, there has been a lot of change for me. Most of the change is good stuff, and yet my adjustment to the change has not been exactly smooth. Back in June, I officially stepped down from one of the two positions I held at the church. I no longer work as the childcare director, which allows me more time to focus on our Special Needs ministry, as well as participate in church classes and events. It was a much needed change for me, but the lack of juggling and the calmness of my work schedule surprisingly left me feeling out of sorts. I had been accustomed to chaos and craziness since I first started working for the church, as I had always held multiple roles. Now, I have one role. And I feel lost...
This school year brought change as well. For the very first time in my career as Mama, all four boys are in school ALL DAY. My little shopping buddy, Ben, has made his way to 1st grade, and I must do the grocery shopping and errands all by myself. I was SO looking forward to having the house to myself so I could truly get stuff done. I was SO looking forward to having quiet time and nap when I needed to. And design my schedule around how I want it, not around a mid-day bus schedule. All of these things are awesome, but the adjustment to it is apparently going to take some time. My role is changing at home. And I feel lost...
Our business is taking off. Who would've thought that we'd be running our own sign business? It has been fun, scary, and crazy all wrapped up into one! The chaos of starting a business has subsided, and we are in a good groove. We've worked out many of the kinks, and are now settled into a routine. Now it's time for future planning, dreaming, growth... And I feel lost...
I have struggled with physical exhaustion and weight gain and over all feeling crummy for the last 4-5 months. I have worked at eating better and working out, and I continued to gain. Lo and behold, all the effort was almost pointless because my thyroid meds were out of wack! It left me feeling defeated and frustrated. With the doctor's help, we've fixed the meds issue, and I can hopefully get back into a healthy swing of things. But at the moment, I feel lost...
The last several months have also brought sadness and heartache and immense pain to those I love. I have been unable to fix any of it. I have only been able to sit on the sidelines and support my friends, my family. My heart breaks. I am disappointed in humanity. I am angry over sickness. And I feel lost...
Sitting in my silent house is giving me a wonderful gift... the gift of connectedness with God. Which I NEED badly! It's giving me time to dig down deep and find myself again. To redefine what I want this stage of life to look like. To reimagine how to do day to day life again. It's giving me an opportunity to dream and to realign myself with God's plan for me.
BUT, in THIS moment, I feel temporarily out of order.
The good news is that "temporarily" means it will end. And "out of order" certainly is better than broken forever! I know that the place I am in currently will pass with time and effort. It can't be fixed without work and a repairman. Thankfully, God is pretty darn good repairman! I have a long way to go to be functioning the way I know I am designed to function and to find a place of flourishing.
This daily gift of quiet will lead me to finding myself again. To be less lost, more focused. Until then, my lost self will continue to take one step at a time and find the blessings in the midst of change.
Monday, August 28, 2017
Friday, August 4, 2017
Even if...
If you can believe, summer is slowly coming to an end, and a new school year is just about upon us. Our summer has been filled with adventures of many kinds, none as exciting as our week away in Ocean City, NJ! We all had a blast playing in the ocean, building sand castles, fishing, site seeing, and let's not forget the most important thing: eating ice cream!! Somehow, ice cream tastes so much better when the air smells like the ocean!
This summer has also been filled with a lot of personal deep thinking, seeking and alone time with God... I've wanted to write about things before, but never felt it was the right time. I didn't have the right words to express what I was thinking and feeling. Everything felt jumbled and confusing. But today is different. Today, I'd like to share with you all some of what's been going on. (I will tell you this will be one of those "open and honest" posts...)
There are times when I really wonder what God is doing... What He's thinking. It comes in forms of how He could ever trust someone like me with four beautiful amazing boys. Sometimes it's more wondering what His plan is for me and my family and those I love. Lately, it's been more serious, like how some people can be healed from cancer, while other's (no matter how hard they fight) cannot. Or how families like mine can have a child with significant Spectrum issues progress in such a way that it is barely noticeable to strangers, while other families never get to hear their child mutter a single word or receive a single hug. I find myself struggling with the idea of fairness. It's not fair that people get sick, and others don't. It's not fair that some families struggle with Special Needs, while other families are never impacted by it. It's not fair that some people struggle every day to get out of bed, while others are living the dream.
But, is my struggle really about fairness, or lack there of? I have come to the realization that although I hate how unfair things can be, that's not ultimately what keeps me up at night. Sure, it might not be fair, but life in general is never fair. No matter what's happening, who's fighting for certain rights, LIFE IS NOT FAIR. It's just not. And as a realist, I accept that (for the most part).
For me, it's more about the heart wrenching truth that there is absolutely nothing I can do to fix life's unfairness. When I watch the families who are a part of our Special Needs ministry struggle, besides listening and lending a shoulder to cry on, there is nothing I can do to help them. I can't change what is. When I connect with families who have lost someone way too soon or who are facing insurmountable obstacles, I feel their pain, I hear their cries but am left with nothing that can change the radical unfairness in their lives.
None rings more true for me than right now as I watch my sister and her husband face the cruel and brutal reality of cancer. He was diagnosed years ago, went through treatment, thought he was on the mend, only to learn it was back with a vengeance. A few months ago they were faced with the decision of either pursuing more grueling treatment that could cause even more issues, or to pretty much surrender to cancer. And with all the love they had in them, they made the mutual decision to surrender so that he could spend his time on earth enjoying the time he had. This morning I learned that the cancer is spreading rather quickly, and is now in his lungs and in his liver. The doctor said he has maybe six months... THIS is UNFAIR. It's unfair to my sister to witness her husband getting sicker. It's unfair to her husband that he ever got cancer in the first place.
All of it is unfair. And yet, here I am struggling more with the fact that there is NOTHING I CAN DO. The only ONE who has the ability to change any of this is God, and although there is still the possibility of a miracle, I am thinking He has a different plan. And He promises it's a good one in the end.
As I struggle with the sense of helplessness for my sister and her husband and the many families I connect with and work with, I am left with the realization that all I can give is my faith in a God who loves them dearly. No matter what the situation, no matter what the pain, God deeply loves them and call them His own. I can pray for them. I can remind them of the goodness and blessings amidst the pain and ugliness. It's not always enough, but it's something. There is HOPE beyond the pain and tears and loss and struggles. More accurately, there is hope DURING the pain and tears and loss and struggles. And, I guess, despite my desire to make things better (or to make it less "unfair"), I am here to share His hope and His love.
There's been a new song playing on the radio (and now on repeat on my cellphone) by MercyMe called "Even If". It's left me feeling a lot of things that I can't quite put my finger on. But I so definitely feel it is pertinent for this time and place... It talks of pretty much the unfairness and junk in life, but how even if God doesn't change anything going on, He is still good and faithful and is our Hope. The chorus goes:
Even if God doesn't step in with a miracle for my brother in law... Even if those I serve in our Special Needs ministry never receive healing... Even if life continues to be unfair forever... My hope is in a deeply loving God. Even if it's hard to see how much He loves us.
Even If by Mercy Me
This summer has also been filled with a lot of personal deep thinking, seeking and alone time with God... I've wanted to write about things before, but never felt it was the right time. I didn't have the right words to express what I was thinking and feeling. Everything felt jumbled and confusing. But today is different. Today, I'd like to share with you all some of what's been going on. (I will tell you this will be one of those "open and honest" posts...)
There are times when I really wonder what God is doing... What He's thinking. It comes in forms of how He could ever trust someone like me with four beautiful amazing boys. Sometimes it's more wondering what His plan is for me and my family and those I love. Lately, it's been more serious, like how some people can be healed from cancer, while other's (no matter how hard they fight) cannot. Or how families like mine can have a child with significant Spectrum issues progress in such a way that it is barely noticeable to strangers, while other families never get to hear their child mutter a single word or receive a single hug. I find myself struggling with the idea of fairness. It's not fair that people get sick, and others don't. It's not fair that some families struggle with Special Needs, while other families are never impacted by it. It's not fair that some people struggle every day to get out of bed, while others are living the dream.
But, is my struggle really about fairness, or lack there of? I have come to the realization that although I hate how unfair things can be, that's not ultimately what keeps me up at night. Sure, it might not be fair, but life in general is never fair. No matter what's happening, who's fighting for certain rights, LIFE IS NOT FAIR. It's just not. And as a realist, I accept that (for the most part).
For me, it's more about the heart wrenching truth that there is absolutely nothing I can do to fix life's unfairness. When I watch the families who are a part of our Special Needs ministry struggle, besides listening and lending a shoulder to cry on, there is nothing I can do to help them. I can't change what is. When I connect with families who have lost someone way too soon or who are facing insurmountable obstacles, I feel their pain, I hear their cries but am left with nothing that can change the radical unfairness in their lives.
None rings more true for me than right now as I watch my sister and her husband face the cruel and brutal reality of cancer. He was diagnosed years ago, went through treatment, thought he was on the mend, only to learn it was back with a vengeance. A few months ago they were faced with the decision of either pursuing more grueling treatment that could cause even more issues, or to pretty much surrender to cancer. And with all the love they had in them, they made the mutual decision to surrender so that he could spend his time on earth enjoying the time he had. This morning I learned that the cancer is spreading rather quickly, and is now in his lungs and in his liver. The doctor said he has maybe six months... THIS is UNFAIR. It's unfair to my sister to witness her husband getting sicker. It's unfair to her husband that he ever got cancer in the first place.
All of it is unfair. And yet, here I am struggling more with the fact that there is NOTHING I CAN DO. The only ONE who has the ability to change any of this is God, and although there is still the possibility of a miracle, I am thinking He has a different plan. And He promises it's a good one in the end.
As I struggle with the sense of helplessness for my sister and her husband and the many families I connect with and work with, I am left with the realization that all I can give is my faith in a God who loves them dearly. No matter what the situation, no matter what the pain, God deeply loves them and call them His own. I can pray for them. I can remind them of the goodness and blessings amidst the pain and ugliness. It's not always enough, but it's something. There is HOPE beyond the pain and tears and loss and struggles. More accurately, there is hope DURING the pain and tears and loss and struggles. And, I guess, despite my desire to make things better (or to make it less "unfair"), I am here to share His hope and His love.
There's been a new song playing on the radio (and now on repeat on my cellphone) by MercyMe called "Even If". It's left me feeling a lot of things that I can't quite put my finger on. But I so definitely feel it is pertinent for this time and place... It talks of pretty much the unfairness and junk in life, but how even if God doesn't change anything going on, He is still good and faithful and is our Hope. The chorus goes:
I know You're able and I know You can
Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
But even if You don't
My hope is You alone.
Even If by Mercy Me
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