From Ashes to Beauty

September 20, 2015

It's been stirring in my heart for a long time now to share "my story", but I've battled the desire to share publicly my struggles and triumphs.  After all, it puts me in a vulnerable spot, and how people may see me after I put it out for all to see could be very different.  I guess I still have some strand of "people pleaser" in me... after all, don't we all?  But recently a well meaning friend made a comment to me saying "well, that's YOUR side of the story.  I'm sure the other side has a different one."  But although she didn't mean that to hurt me, it did.  See being a survivor, you quickly recognize that sometimes sharing your story makes you vulnerable to the looks and judgement of others.  But more importantly than that to me, it gives me a place to relate to others walking in the shoes I've walked.  Shoes that may appear strong on the outside, but on the inside, women (and sometimes men) like me are shattered and broken and desperately need someone who's walked thru the brokenness, and come thru the fire to become a voice willing to listen and fully understand their pain, believing them instead of doubting their story.  I've always said that if God can somehow use my pain for HIS glory, then it's worthwhile.  Little did I know when I first said that 2 years ago that God still had SO much work to do in me, but also how He would use my heartache and healing to speak to my kids in their loss of innocence and bleeding hearts as well.

So I want to backtrack to my childhood.  I was raised in an amazing home with 5 brothers and 1 sister, all super close in age, and with parents who loved us and loved Jesus in a genuine and tangible way more than anyone I have ever known.  My parents are a living breathing walking Jesus.  They are the definition of people who let their actions speak louder than their words.  They walk their faith daily.  They're prayer warriors.  They're the type of people who sacrifice and give to unending measures.  They love fearlessly.  I can't remember exactly how old I was, but I do know all my siblings and I were still spread between elementary, middle and high school, and my dad felt God called him to quit his full time job in computer management to step down to a part-time position so he could go into the inner city of Columbus and serve the homeless.  From that day forward, I remember my family always had a "less fortunate" family living in our home.  Some were there only for a short time, and others stayed months, even years.  We learned to love each family as my dad and mom tried to be a tangible Jesus and teach them life skills and help them find jobs so they could be on their own and be a "productive member of society".  There was everything from single moms with their kids, to addicts trying desperately to get clean, to Satanists who were trying to escape the cult of lies to spare the lives of their 2 beautiful children who were meant to be born to be sacrificed, to college students from a foreign country who had no family so were lonely and needed a family away from home to love on them.  My parents were that and more to each of them.  Each lonely and hurting in their own ways, and just needing a tangible touch of Jesus' love.  A God kiss as I call it.  My parents are the reason I learned to give and love.  They didn't just talk the talk.  They walked the walk.  They weren't afraid to love, and to show tough love too.

I learned to love without boundaries at a young age.  Love didn't see color or status in society.  Love just loved for who they were.

It was during those young years of life that my innocence was first stolen.  I think that's why it breaks my heart so desperately watching the innocence of my own 4 kids be taken from them thru the nightmare of the circumstances surrounding my divorce.  I used to love to play school with my friends.  We had a room in the basement that we set up with desks and a giant chalkboard and we'd play for hours.  I guess that's a perk to having so many siblings and neighbors... there was always kids to have to be your "students" in class and I could play teacher :)  I remember vividly playing with my best friend at the time.  We were setting up our class and the person staying at our house at the time was downstairs in his room.  I don't remember all the details of what happened next, but the next thing I remember was him touching my friend and I in ways I knew were totally wrong but I didn't know what to do.  Fear kept us quiet.  I don't know how long after that I got up the courage to tell my dad, but I remember the anger in my dad's face as he put that man in his car with all his belongings and drove him to the bus stop and told him to never come back.  I was damaged more on that day than I would ever realize until much later on in my adult life.  I buried that day deeply.  Honestly so deeply that I "forgot" about it until just a few years ago when going thru some intense counseling I'll share about a bit later.  But I realize now how it began to shape me.

I became an insecure teen.  I struggled to "fit in" through middle and high school.  I desperately wanted what I think everyone wants deep down... people to love them, think they're fantastic, and admire them.  I always tried to "be the best".  I played Ice Hockey on an all guys team in an all guys league.  I sucked, but I played :)  I played Lacrosse and loved every minute of it (that one I was actually decent at!  lol).  I partied with the best of them, and could drink most of my friends under the table, and then hid it all from my parents and would show up to church the next day and sing with the best of them there.  I moved on to college to do the same.  I was supposed to go to Ohio State and play lacrosse, but I had a big knee injury playing ice hockey and ended up changing plans at the last minute due to having to have surgery, and headed off to Liberty University instead.  For those who know Liberty back in the day, it was a school FULL of rules.  I guess I made it my mission to break every one of those rules as fast as possible. :/  I continued my party lifestyle.  I remember getting caught by one of the deans at the time, and he made me call my mom and tell her what I'd done (I had gotten caught drinking at a guys house off campus).  I remember sobbing, not because of what I'd done necessarily, but because I knew I had disappointed my parents.
My insecurities continued to grow... from a struggle with anorexia, to a serious relationship with my best friend at the time.  We dated 2 years and planned our wedding for after graduation.  God had different plans up His sleeves though... I've come to realize that happens often :)  His plans aren't my plans.  My senior year of university, I got sick.  Excruciating pain daily sick.  My hands and feet swelled to twice their normal size.  I lost total feeling in my left hand and right foot.  Doctors had no clue what was going wrong.  I refused to stop school, so I would scoot on my rear down the stairs of my apartment, hobble with the help of my roommates and/or boyfriend to my car, and then to class.  Doctors were at a loss and just kept increasing my doses of prednisone to try to kill the pain.  Before long, I was up to 80mg a day and still fighting incredible pain.  They ran test after test.  And after what felt like ages, they finally came up with a diagnosis... Systemic Lupus.  They said it would be bad and I needed to plan accordingly.  My boyfriend couldn't handle that and jumped ship.  Honestly, who could blame him.  But I was determined to fight the odds.  I up an moved to Colorado with two of my best friends right after graduation.  I was determined not to let the Lupus control me.  I lasted a few months before the pain became unbearable and I had to catch a flight home to head to the hospital for what ended up being a month of IV treatments.

What I left out above was that right after that breakup, I met the person who would soon become my husband.  It was a long distance relationship from the start.  There was no cell phones or e-mail back then, so we wrote letters and talked on the phone.  I lived out west, and he lived out east.  I moved back home to go to the hospital.  He stayed east and came to visit.  Before the end of that summer, we were engaged.  I've realized now that there's some of us who so desperately want a relationship that we just jump into the first available that seems to "feel" right.  We don't take the time to step back and evaluate and listen to the counsel of others.  We think we know best and plow forward.  Hindsight is always 20/20... but I fully own that I plowed ahead.  By January of the next year, less than a year after meeting, I was married.

Both of us were stubborn and strong willed.  Within the first 2 years of marriage, and an overwhelming amount of conflict, we moved 6 times within 2 states.  Tension continued to rise when we started having kids.  We sucked at communication.  I knew every button to push that would make him angry, and he knew mine.  "Discussions" became quickly heated, and voices raised.  I wasn't a very good wife in a lot of areas.  I was good at shutting down and putting up walls when arguments started.  That only added fuel to the fire, and I quickly was labeled with various unpleasant, nasty names.  What started as verbal abuse quickly escalated with kids on the scene.  It was then the physical started.  I was slammed against walls and thrown onto the sofa so that I could be pinned in a spot where I would "listen" to what he wanted to say and I wouldn't just walk away (as I was good at doing when my walls went up).  I've heard it asked a million times over "why didn't you just leave".  Great question.  And from the voice of a victim, I don't have an answer.  Maybe it was fear?  Maybe it was that I desperately wanted my marriage to work?  Maybe it was because I really did make those vows before God and wanted to honor them?  Maybe it was because I had some glimmer of hope every time an "incident" happened and then the apology and "it'll never happen again", that once and for all that really would be the end of it?  I don't know.  All I know is that I stayed silent.  For 10 years I never breathed a word to a soul.  I remember when the final straw happened late one night... after being wakened by shouting and my phone being crushed before my eyes because my phone records had been searched and I had talked with my best friend out west for 8 minutes and 22 seconds that I hadn't reported that day, I knew it was time.  After a heated argument, I dodged and locked myself in the commode of the master bathroom.  I knelt at the toilet and sobbed, begging God to wake me up and make this all just a bad dream.  When the pounding on the door finally quieted, I heard footsteps go back downstairs and I vividly remember climbing quietly back in bed, tears still streaming down my face.  But the battle wasn't over.  Suddenly I was pinned to my bed with an arm bar across my neck, and my quiet tears turned into desperate sobs of fear.  "God let me breathe.  Please.  My kids need me."  I fought and wrestled, begged and cried.  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but in reality was probably only a few minutes, he stormed out of the house.  I remember finding an old cell phone (we didn't have a home phone so all I had was internet and some old phone I found) and calling a friend at the time who lived nearby.  I sobbed and begged for help.  They found him out driving around, and came over to mediate.  I was told I was disrespecting my marriage by talking to my friend, and although his actions were wrong, if I hadn't talked to my friend (who was a male, yes, but my best friend since middle school!), then this wouldn't have happened.  I can honestly say that night, I threw in the towel.  I don't give up.  Ever.  But that night, I was done.  My walls went up full force.  I was determined that I would just walk on eggshells to get by until my kids graduated from high school and I could leave.  I didn't want my kids to face divorce.  That's not what I wanted them to see.  I was determined to pretend... fake it until I made it to their graduation.  I started counseling.  I'd never opened up to anyone about my struggles before.  I grew up relating to men better than women, probably because I had 5 brothers, so I just seemed to relate better.  But I wasn't "allowed" to have friendships with men anymore, so I had female "acquaintances".  Nobody I could fully trust though.  Except my counselor.  Over the course of the next 2 years, I gradually opened up to her.  She was my safe place.  She invested hours upon hours into my life, helping me uncover the incredibly deep wounds of my past.  She encouraged me to find women I could relate to.  Women who would push me closer to Jesus.  We had changed churches, and the church we attended had a women's Bible study so I thought I'd try that.  It was incredibly out of my comfort zone.  The women cried a lot.  I didn't cry about anything.  They poured out their hearts.  I didn't trust anyone enough to even scratch the surface of that.  At first.  Over the course of the next year though, God worked in my heart.  I began to soften.  I began to trust tiny pieces of myself and my story with these girls.  Some of them even became my good friends who I ended up taking little "get away" trips with and girls nights out with.  My schedule began to change as his job changed... again.  He was now on to job #5.  We had now gone thru another half a dozen moves, and multiple other job changes, and my schedule became increasingly difficult to escape during the day to get to Bible study.  Tension continued to be like a pressure cooker at home... I would walk on egg shells for a long time, and then I'd slip and say something that would make the pot explode.  One day, when that pot exploded, but instead of me being the brunt of the anger this time, it was one of my kids.  It was a nightmare unfolding in front of my eyes that still haunts me to this day.  The terror in their eyes and the trembling sobs of my babies are burned into my mind forever.  I can't begin to describe how many times I've begged God to remove that awful night from my kid's memories.  I still pray He does.  I won't go into detail because I honestly can't bring myself to put it onto paper yet, but it was the breaking point where I knew that the marriage was over.  There was no way I would make it until the kids finished high school.  I was done.  And for the emotional health and safety of both myself and my kids, we needed out.

And so it was over.  I asked him to leave.  My dad came down and helped me.  Now when I say that, please know that my dad did not in any way support divorce.  He just wanted us to separate to both work on our own messes.  We were both a train wreck and needed serious help.  In all honesty, I don't know that I even realized just how much of a toll it had all taken on me until now.  We had been married 14 years.  I had only begun to scratch the surface of my pain with my counselor that I'd been seeing for nearly 2 years at that point.  I needed help.  So did he.  So did our kids.  I had the separation agreement drawn up, mainly because I was terrified about what could happen.  I spent the next few months making myself as busy as possible to kill the pain.  The more busy I was the less time I would have to think about the pain.  And on the nights I was alone while my kids were with him, I drank so I could fall asleep and not just toss and turn as my mind raced.  Not healthy I know.  But it's honest.  I met with my counselor weekly.  I had begun to have horrific flashbacks at night, and was fighting unrealistic fears.  PTSD was real in a whole new way.  I found myself alone in so many ways I couldn't even begin to wrap my head around.  I poured my time into my job and my kids when I had them.  Those girls I had started to trust and hang with... they turned their backs and walked away.  I received letters of judgment and hate from ones who used to say "I love you" and "I'm so thankful you're family".  I guess in hindsight I was too much drama and hurt, and after all, who really wants to hang with "Debbie downer" all the time.  I was alone.  Me.  God.  My kids.  And a whole lot of people that I could put on a brave face and smile for, but would go home and lie down and cry because none of them really knew what was behind that smile.  I decided to join Divorce Care.  It was one of the best decisions I ever made during those months of pain.  Little did I know God had a precious friend in that group that would soon become on of my closest and dearest friends.  And two other girls who had been "acquaintances" up until then, suddenly began to invest in my life and share their personal stories with me.  Both had walked thru painful divorces.  One, multiple divorces.  The other, a marriage and divorce from a narcissistic abuser where our stories are eerily similar to the hell I was walking.  All three women, God gave me to push me towards Jesus.  They wrapped their arms around my broken and messy self, and gave me courage to hold on.

I found out only about 3 months into our separation that my ex was seeing one of those Bible study friends.  Talk about a painful stab.  But it also explained why the others had walked away during my time of crisis.  I'm not going to dwell on that because it is what it is.  I have worked thru a lot of pain and hurt from that betrayal and from the betrayal of others thru it all.  I honestly pray she's able to be something to him that I could never be, because God forbid my poor children (and hers too) have to walk thru yet another nasty divorce.  I've told my kids over and over, forgiveness lets you out of your own prison.  I've walked it.  I know it's true first hand.  It's a daily choice, sometimes hourly.

So I come to today.  Less than a week away from my ex getting married to that girl.  My emotions have gone from extreme highs to lowest of valleys.  But I sit and look back and honestly am completely overwhelmed with thankfulness for how far God has brought me.  I've no where near arrived, but I can see a rainbow after the storm now.  It's still drizzling rain, and sometimes pouring, but the hurricane has settled a bit.  I'm surrounded by the most incredible prayer warrior and encouraging team of my family that anyone could ever ask for.  My parents have stepped up to love on me, encourage me, and surround my kids and I with DAILY strength and scriptures.  My siblings have loved hard.  They've all asked me tough questions and loved me with unconditional love.  They've gone to bat for me when I feel like I have nothing left in me to fight anymore.  My incredible support network of friends both far and near have loved on me like I've never felt love before.  I can honestly say I've never had such incredible love from female friends in my life as I've been flooded with the past 2 years especially.  And my male friends continue to keep me grounded... pushing myself with my competitive side and knowing this girl needs to get a solid hardcore sweat on before she can face a tough day :)  And my kids... whoever said kids are resilient was right.  BUT I would argue that behind that resilience, they are fragile and innocent little miracles who just need stability and to know that they're loved beyond a shadow of a doubt.  I'm SO thankful God picked me to be that tangible face of strength and love to them right now.  I've wiped more tears from their weary eyes, and pinched more snotty boogers from their drippy noses the past few months than I ever wanted to see fall from their precious faces in their lifetime.  I've pointed them to Jesus because I have no answers for their hurting hearts.  A lot of the questions they ask are the same ones I ask.  They've slept in my arms more nights than I can begin to count.  And I wouldn't trade a single night for the world.  Because it's in those dark nights when the lights are out that their tears fall and they ask the tough questions and bare their bleeding hearts.  They're perceptive.  Bright beyond their years.  Innocence has been robbed from them.  But I hold to Hope, believing that God will use them and their story in mighty ways one day, for HIS glory.

If it weren't for my years of brokenness, I wouldn't know my Jesus like I know Him today.  I wouldn't believe it were possible to have friends like I do.  I would have never been able to see God provide in literally miraculous ways for the kids and I for our basic needs like food and money for bills.  And my kids would never have been able to see a mom who went from a bitter and broken victim, to a woman who can stand tall and smile and know that with forgiveness and letting go, healing comes.

Lessons Learned

August 30, 2015

Yes... shocker I know that I'm posting 2 whole blog entries in less than a month, but I feel like this one has been burning in my heart for a while now, and when my oldest daughter became a teenager just a few weeks ago, I think the thoughts started to overflow.  So this post is more of a brain dump that I hope and pray one day both of my girls read and take to heart.  It's wisdom from their mom, who's learned most of life's lessons the hard way because as those of you who know me already know... I tend to be stubborn and hard headed at times and most things for me have to be learned by doing and making mistakes and learning from them.

So I've been a single mom for nearly 3 years now.  As I write that, I look back and the time has gone by incredibly fast at times and also painfully slow at times.  I never wanted to be a single mom.  I never wanted to even have the "D" word spoken in my home.  But as I've said over and over... the past cannot be changed.  It's amazing how much people immediately come to conclusions and judgments about you when they hear you're divorced, not to mention if they hear you have 4 kids and one with some extra special needs.  Most guys run the other way.  I've decided that's because they aren't strong enough to face it without even taking the time to get to know me.  And that's ok.  See if they, or anyone for that matter, really take the time to sit back and see, every child has special needs.  Every child needs something special that only genuine love and affirmation will fill.  It's just that some have what I call "extra special needs" and need a few extra hours of your time for doctors and therapists.  I guess that leads me in to my lessons learned the hard way.  I hope and pray my girls don't have to learn them the way I've learned them, but instead will take to heart the words of their mama... and for the other single girls reading this, I pray a few nuggets stick with you too.

Discover who YOU really are.  What do you love?  What inspires you?  What makes you smile?  Never be ashamed of that uniqueness.  Don't conform.  That's the way God created you to be and it's what makes you special.  You don't need another person to affirm that or make you who you are.  Stand tall and confident that God created only one of you.  I spent years of my life trying to make myself into who I thought my friends wanted me to be, and who I thought a certain man wanted me to be.  In doing that, I lost myself.  I was an insecure woman wandering around trying to make everyone else happy, yet inside I was dying.  These past 3 years I've done a lot of re-discovering.  Everything from what I truly valued in friendships, to being satisfied with my looks, to my favorite types of music... the list goes on and on.  I've found a "me" that I had lost, and I'm still discovering parts of me that were buried, and each discovery makes me smile!  So be YOU.  Unashamedly YOU.

Listen to your friends and family.  So much of our life gets wrapped up in our feelings, and we have blinders on to reality of what road we're really walking in our life.  The ones who know and love you may call you on the carpet on some pretty tough stuff, but don't shut them out.  They see what we often don't see when we're walking in our own tunnel.  Many of them have already experienced the road we're walking and have learned lessons the hard way and are trying to prevent you from walking the painful road they've walked.  So listen to them.  Sit and think on their words before you react or defend yourself.  They're often right.  (ok if I'm honest, the majority of the time they're right!)  And speaking of friends... choose them wisely.  Don't just pick friends who agree with everything you say and do.  Pick friends who seek Jesus with all that they are.  Those are the ones who will walk the tough stuff with you and help steer you in the right direction.  They are the ones who aren't afraid to confront you on your choices and hold you accountable to making changes.  Your friends are your family that you get to choose.  So choose wisely and trust carefully.

Never pursue a man.  Let him pursue you.  I'm not dumb.  I know the day and age we live in and all this feminine rights stuff.  But if you have to chase a man, you'll spend the rest of your life chasing him trying to convince him you're worth it.  If he doesn't see your worth, he's not worth having you!  That's his loss!  I've learned this the very hard way, and my close friends will tell you I've learned my lesson.  Know that you are a beautiful and unique soul.  There's only one in the world of you.  And whoever (if there is one?!) that right man is... be patient.  God'll bring him to you when the both of you are ready.  Let him pursue you and ask you on dates.  Real dates where he picks you up and plans something special with you in mind.  If he's worth it, he'll want more than just to take you home to his bed.  He'll want to get to know you for who you are and he'll make the effort.  He won't be intimidated by your strengths.  Rather your strengths will inspire him!

Forgive.  Even when they don't apologize and don't deserve your forgiveness.  Forgive.  Learn to let it go and know that God'll handle them.  Your bitterness and holding a grudge doesn't do anything to hurt anyone except yourself.  Forgiving doesn't mean what they did was ok.  It just means you aren't letting their actions or words destroy you.  You're giving it to God and letting Him handle it.  After all, He does a much better job at handling it than we do anyways :)  Then pray for that person.  Trust me.  That's one of the hardest things you'll ever do.  But I promise it helps.  It makes you continue to let go and give it to God.

Last, pursue Jesus.  Never be ashamed of your faith.  Others may think you're crazy, but when life gets so hard you just don't know how you can take another moment, He'll be your strength.  He is faithful.  He never fails.  He provides.  He's got your back.  Hold on tight to His promises when the going gets tough.  He'll get you thru the storm so you can see the rainbow on the other side!

The Road of Life

At first, I saw God as my observer, my judge,
keeping track of the things I did wrong,
so as to know whether I merited heaven or hell when I die. He was out there sort of like a president.I recognized His picture when I saw it, but I really didn't know Him.

But later on when I met Christ, it seemed as though life was rather like a bike ride, but it was a tandem bike, and I noticed that Christ
was in the back helping me pedal.

I don't know just when it was that He suggested we change places,
but life has not been the same since.

When I had control, I knew the way. It was rather boring, but predictable . . .
It was the shortest distance between two points.

But when He took the lead, He knew delightful long cuts,up mountains,
and through rocky places at breakneck speeds, it was all I could do to hang on! Even though it looked like madness, He said, "Pedal!"

I worried and was anxious and asked, "Where are you taking me?"He laughed and didn't answer, and I started to learn to trust.

I forgot my boring life
and entered into the adventure. And when I'd say, "I'm scared,"He'd lean back and touch my hand.

He took me to people with gifts that I needed,
gifts of healing, acceptance and joy.
They gave me gifts to take on my journey, my Lord's and mine.

And we were off again.
He said, "Give the gifts away; they're extra baggage, too much weight."So I did,
to the people we met,
and I found that in giving I received, and still our burden was light.

I did not trust Him,
at first, in control of my life. I thought He'd wreck it; but He knows bike secrets, knows how to make it bend to take sharp corners, knows how to jump to clear high rocks, knows how to fly to shorten scary passages.

And I am learning to shut up and pedal in the strangest places, and I'm beginning to enjoy the view and the cool breeze on my face with my delightful constant companion, Jesus Christ.

And when I'm sure I just can't do anymore,
He just smiles and says . . . "Pedal."

~Tim Hansel
Holy Sweat

Heartache and Healing

August 14, 2015

As I sit thinking and writing, the view I gaze on is my taste of heaven on earth... sun twinkling off the still and glassy waters of the Muskoka lakes as a Loon calls in the backround.  A soft breeze blows thru the screen door and the smell of the previous night rain mixes with my morning coffee smell to wake me up to my final full day in my paradise.  I'm winding down a week of much needed healing and rest with my 4 precious kiddos and my incredible parents, who have given of themselves selflessly the past week to love on my kids and with amazing patience and love, continue to point them to Jesus thru every moment of our days here.  It's been the simple things... no flashy purchases or shopping adventures.  Just enjoying God's creation.  Walks along the hilly and winding dirt roads to gather wildflowers for our kitchen bouquet each morning, canoe and kayak trips along the shoreline to see the handiwork of The Creator in every rock and boulder and tree lining the lake, the blanket of millions upon millions of stars that seems so low you could reach out and touch them... the list goes on and on. I knew my body was worn out and needing rest before the week began, but I didn't realize just how desperately I needed it until my mind finally unwound enough to process.

Have you ever had someone give you something with good intent, but you just weren't ready to receive their words or gift at that moment?  The time just wasn't right?  You knew they were right but your heart and soul just weren't ready.   It seems like that's been my story a lot lately.  I've walked a pretty ugly past few years.  If I'm fully honest, there were plenty of times I thought it would never end.  People with good intentions would tell me to just pray... give it to God... forgive... let it go.  And all that is good and true, but sometimes I wanted to just scream in their face that they had no clue the agony I was wrestling with deep down inside, and their words only made it worse because in the depths of my being I knew what they were saying was right, but I just couldn't do it.  There was so much buried pain that I didn't even know how or where to begin.  It was like the onion... layer upon layer as I would process would reveal more buried pain and heartache.  I had been "strong" (or at least I thought I was strong... putting on a good strong front) for so many years, the onion was gigantic.  It seems to never end as the layers came off.  Nearly 2 full years ago, my mom mailed me a book.  For those who know me well, you probably just giggled knowing full well I HATE reading so someone giving me a book is quite humorous in itself.  It's called "The Heartache No One Sees" by Sheila Walsh.  I remember trying to start to read just a page a day, and I couldn't do it.  It sat on my bedside table for well over a year and a half.  So in packing for my trip (which I packed for in all of 20 minutes for myself and 4 kids!  LOL!  Yep... I'm not your typical girl by any stretch!), I threw it in my bag thinking maybe, just maybe, I would read more than a page.  Little did I know what God knew... THIS was the perfect time for the book for me.  For a much deeper page of healing and freedom.  A whole new meaning to "letting go".  (Ps... for those of my friends who have walked a tough road... this book in AMAZING and I highly recommend it!)

So as I write, this is a reminder to myself more than anything.  See I carried on as "strong" for years upon years.  I was ashamed of my hurt and pain.  I was too proud to let on that deep inside there was battles raging.  The were wars behind closed doors of my home.  There was heartache upon heartache that I thought I should be strong enough to "fix" or "get thru", but the reality was much different.  I needed help.  Much more than I even knew just a few years ago.  I'm so thankful and humbled by the incredible Godly counselor I have, who's walked thru the onion layers with me for nearly 5 years now.  And I'm learning sometimes you need more than even just a counselor, and that's ok.  The fears and anxiety I faced were real.  Caused by things out of my control.  But real all the same.  And in order to be a healthy mom to my 4 precious kids, I needed help.  The more layers I peeled off, the more the pain of reality set in.  I struggled to "stay strong".  But as sleep got less and heartache became more uncovered, I realize that my view of "don't medicate a problem" was living in a fairy tale world.  I realized depression and anxiety was real.  PTSD was real.  And sometimes it's more than we can handle on our own, even with God's help.  So I got brave and got help.  It's been just under a year ago now, and I've been too ashamed to let others know.  But this week as I read the words of the book that was that gift so many months ago, I realized it was ok.  My giving in to taking a medication to help me overcome my PTSD anxiety and struggles was not a sign of weakness, but rather a sign of strength.  Admitting when we need help, and getting the help we need, it not a failure.  It's owning that we can't do it on our own.

A few weeks ago, my sweet 9 year old asked me why God allows struggles to people who love Him. I told her that was a question I wrestled with as a grown woman too.  I had shared with her how God says that "...in this world we WILL have trouble..." and "When you pass thru the waters, I will be with you; and thru the rivers, they shall not overflow you.  When you walk thru the fire, you shall not be burned, nor shall the flame scorch you." (Isaiah 43:2)  I loved how Sheila Walsh put it in her book... "Hold on to that promise when your feet are wet and the smell of smoke is in your hair.  Hold on to Christ, for He is holding on to you."  I can honestly say I've felt Him holding on to me more in the past year than I've felt in all my life.  It blows me away to see His daily God kisses to remind me that He's holding on to me!

And thru that healing comes a letting go... giving the pain and hurt to God and not taking it back.  It's a daily thing, sometimes even hourly, because for people like me who like to have things make sense, sometimes surrendering that pain doesn't seem to make sense because I want to see justice.  But holding on to it I've realized only takes me to places I don't want to be.  It keeps me in my own prison.  Sheila says it this way... "God can take the most evil act perpetrated on you and use it to prosper you in body, mind, soul, and spirit."  A few years ago, I would have argued that there's no way that's true.  But this week, I've realized in a whole new way the truth of those words.  If it weren't for the heartache of my past, I would never know the arms of my Jesus like I know them today.  I'd never really know the depths of my need for HIS strength and daily provision like I do now.  My kids never saw a mom that needed Jesus in her daily walk before.  But I pray that now that see that and know how much God meets us right where we are, and we can still worship in the storm.  I pray that somehow thru this storm, they can see a mom that's changed and still changing.  A mom that's learning to forgive and let go even when it doesn't make sense.  Because forgiving doesn't mean what happened to you was okay.... it just means you're simply being obedient.  It's the butterfly... it brings you out of the dark cocoon and allows you to fly free.

"It's never too late to be who you might have been!"

God Kisses (for a warrior son and worn out mama)

July 16, 2015

So yes, I do know it's been a long time since I last blogged.  Not because life slowed, but more that it's been INSANE busy and my mind hit what I guess you could call a "writers block".  I struggled to put into words the thoughts and emotions racing thru my head every minute of every day.  A lot has happened since April... I have primary physical custody of my 4 kiddos, I'm working 3 jobs, I now have 2 preteens (Kai turned 11!), and my kids have finished one school year and started up another!  Yep... gotta love year round schools with their 4 day break between grades!  Kalia is now at the top of her school... grade 8 (terrifying thought to think I have a high schooler next year!).  Kai moved from the top of his school, to the beginning of a new chapter... grade 6!  Yep... 2 middle schoolers in the same house, and I'll be lucky to finish this school year without a full head of platinum hair ;)  Peyton is now in grade 4, and Thayne moved right on up to 1st grade.  Talk about wild after-school adventures of homework!  And me... well yes, along with being a full-time mom of 4 incredible monkeys, I've also now started a new job coaching and working for a local triathlon store.  I LOVE it!  I'm still working my other 2 jobs as well, so life is definitely lacking many quiet moments, but I'm learning to find joy in the chaos.  And as those of you who follow me on Facebook may already know... I've applied to nursing school!!!  I can't wait!  This is a lifelong dream of mine that I've finally stepped up to begin to fulfill.  I'll be cutting back on work and doing a mix of classes online and at school, so it'll be a juggling act, but I'm excited to finally have a career path I can use to also help Kai as his challenges progress.
 

So speaking of Kai... As many of you know by now, his disease has continued to present increasing challenges for his ability to get thru each day without extreme fatigue.  Although there's still minimal research about his disease, there IS 2 doctors in the United States who research and have a fairly decent knowledge of his disease and what I can expect as I help him function as best as possible thru each day.  One of those specialists is out at UCLA in California, and I took him out there a few years ago shortly after he was first diagnosed.  The other of those doctors is at Johns Hopkins, and I took him there as well.  So this past weekend, I made the trek up to Baltimore, Maryland, to see Dr. Crawford again and try to gain a bit more wisdom and understanding of his ever progressing disease.  Dr. Crawford is one of the leading Ataxia specialists in the world!  After waiting 3 hours, we were finally greeted by a warm smile and sincere apology by Dr. Crawford himself.  In a nutshell, he spent the next hour and a half talking with both Kai and myself, listening, answering questions, doing functional tests, and sharing his knowledge and wisdom.  He was a wealth of knowledge that I cannot even begin to put into words!  I wish I could explain how comforting it is to talk with someone who understands the struggles Kai faces because he knows the depths of his disease, and the struggles and challenges it presents.  I must admit, I drove there wrestling with whether or not traveling 6+ hours to see a doctor was really worth it, considering every other doctor I take my little fighter to looks at him, writes notes, and never has any form of advice because they know less than I do about my precious Kai's disease.  To finally sit one on one with a specialist has spent his life researching and documenting other patients who struggle with various forms of Ataxia as well... it was almost as though it was comforting.  Rabbit trail here... but I've often said walking thru the past 3 years of a hellacious (is that even a word?!) divorce, it's incredibly comforting to just spend an hour in the presence of someone who's walked a parallel road to mine and fully understands the pain and agony of the betrayal and abuse I walked thru.  They just get it in a totally different way that you can't put into words, and I'm SO thankful for my precious friend God has put in my life for that role.  It's a place where I've often said God uses the pain they walked thru for His glory, to reach out and hold a broken girl like me walking thru the nightmare they've already lived.  So back to the doctor... it's like that with this specialist.  I didn't have to start from scratch with him.  He got it.  He watched and listened and answered my hundreds of questions.  He talked to Kai.  He asked Kai for his thoughts and opinions.  I LOVED that!  Kai felt valued as a patient rather than a science experiment that everyone usually examines and takes notes on, but then talks to me as if he's not even in the room.

The visit was an answer to prayers.  A God kiss.  Dr Crawford affirmed me like no other doctor has done. See, as a mom, there's days I ask a lot of questions to God.   "Why did You choose my son for this battle?  Why me as his mom?  And walking this alone without the support of a spouse like You intended it to be?  Why, God?  Why don't You just heal my boy?  How much longer do You think I can stay strong?  How am I supposed to work multiple jobs in order to make ends meet as a single mom of 4 precious monkeys who depend on me daily for their every need, yet I have this son who requires more of me than I even have for 1 child, let alone 4?  Do You really care God?  Am I really fit to be the mom of this little dude who depends on me daily for everything... doctors, therapies, school advocate, meals, specialists, cook, laundry, chauffeur, comforter, and his constant stability right now?  I'm broken and beat down God.  Don't you see that?  Don't you get the pain of betrayal and hurt that I'm already trying to process, let alone watching my child struggle with the simple tasks of every day living that I take for granted?  Do you hear me God?  Are you really listening?"

I've learned, and am still learning, that God often answers in unexpected ways.  He provides in miraculous ways for my needs and the daily needs of my babies.  He encourages me thru the precious time spent with friends loving enough to understand my exhaustion and inability to get out because of my responsibility to be with my monkeys every day and night, so they give up their evening to come sit with me and love me right in my own home.  He provides cards, letters, texts, phone calls, and e-mails from just the right family and/or friends at just the right time to encourage my weary heart.  He provides unexpected meals from friends who listen to His gentle whisper to her heart to "throw His girl a bone" (yep... that was her words! lol) and provide bags of groceries and a pizza treat for my kids on a night when this mama had just sat at the table with her kids that very morning and shed tears and prayed that God would provide dinner that night before their swim meet because this mama didn't have a single dollar to put it on the table.  (talk about a miracle that my children will never forget!  God provides!)  And in this doctor visit, God provided again.  Dr. Crawford looked at this weary and beat down mama, as my kids did somersaults off his exam table and blew up his gloves into balloons which they then proceeded to make fart noises with as they let out the air, and said a few sentences that meant more to me than anything else... "Heather, you as his mom know more than any doctor or specialist or therapist out there.  This is YOUR child and only you get to see him day in and day out.  YOU have a voice.  He's confined by his disease, but he's given freedom by you as his mom helping find modalities that can allow him to be "normal" in spite of his struggles and minimize his fatigue."  He then looked at Kai and said "You are confined by your disease, but not defined by it.  Your wheelchair will give you freedom!  You can use it and save your energy to run and play like you want to with your siblings and friends."  Then he got to the best part... "Kai, you do not have to wear your AFO or SMO braces, or your DMO body suit for the entire next year!  You don't have to take your meds for the next year!  We're going to see how you do, and if it progresses quickly, I reserve the right to change my mind on that, but for now, I want you to be free using your chair.  I want you to keep swimming, because it's the best thing for you.  And I want you to keep playing soccer and jumping on the trampoline and riding your bike and doing  your rock climbing.  Those are the best therapies you can do!"

I'm pretty sure Kai was fighting back the tears of joy, just like his mama... although he did a much better job of fighting them back, because they rolled down my cheeks. :)  No, he hasn't improved.  In fact his disease has progressed significantly.  I'm working to figure out a way to buy him the motorized chair (saying electric chair doesn't sound very good!  lol) that he wants... it looks just like a motorcycle, but is a pimped out wheelchair!  But something only an Ataxia specialist would recognize, is that a patient with Ataxia like Kai's (he has Ataxia with Oculomotor Apraxia Type 2 for those new to my blog... and although there's hardly any research or info available on his AOA2, it very closely resembles Friedreich's Ataxia, which there is loads of info on)... these patients need to allow their body to be unstable and unbalanced and they need to be able to figure out ways to accommodate, because otherwise they lose muscle tone in those very muscles used to stabilize them, causing their disease to progress even quicker.

So Kai is on cloud 9 right now!  No braces, no suit, no meds!  Only God knows for how long, but for the first time in 6 years now, I don't have to help him get ready in the morning before school.  You have no idea how "new" this feels to me!  Again... a little God kiss as this mama was feeling worn thin getting 4 kids up and ready and out the door to school 5 days a week every single week on my own!

So the journey continues... and the challenges continue... but so does HIS faithfulness.
And so do His kisses.

Birthdays and Ballrooms

April 26, 2015

WOW!  What a whirlwind of a past few weeks it's been... yet full of incredible blessings beyond words.  I'll back up to my post just a few weeks ago (yes I know, try not to go into shock that I'm writing two posts in such a short time frame!).  So as you know now, I've got primary physical custody of my 4 kiddos.  I won't lie, it was very unexpected, but God is in control and I'm totally and completely at peace with it, in spite of the overwhelming chaos it presents at times.  Just for a snapshot.... imagine getting 4 kids up and out the door to school before 8am every single morning, but before that even happens, 4 lunches have to get packed, school backpacks have to get checked and loaded, kids need to get dressed and ready, I have to get showered and ready for my work, and Kai needs to have his meds given and suit and braces (2 separate braces now!) all put on.  Never a dull moment in our morning to say the least... and I'm ever so thankful for my morning pot (yes I said POT) of coffee!  That's just the start of the day too :)  The rest of the day is filled with work (also often job #2 and 3 for me as well), homework, doctors, therapies, dinner making, sports practices, etc... and somewhere in there squeeze in a few showers for the kiddos so their teachers aren't scared away by their dirt ;)  BUT in all that, even in the overwhelming moments when I need a clone or two of myself, I look at my kids as they lie their heads on their pillows to rest and we say our prayers together, and my heart is overwhelmed with love and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt I'll get up and do it all over again the next morning.  And when for the first time in over 1.5 years, my kids sleep thru the night for 10 days straight in their very own beds, my heart is at peace knowing God has my babies and loves their tender wounded hearts even more than I can ever imagine loving them as their own mama!

So rewind a few days now... April 21 marked a very special birthday of a very special little man.  My little fighter, Brayden Kai, turned 11!  I realize more and more daily how much of a blessed mama I am to be honored with the privilege of being picked out of all the mamas in the world to fight along side this little man.  His story is pretty well known by now, but words really can't describe the battle this little man of mine fights daily to do the little things you and I take for granted.  His struggles don't hold him back though.  He fights thru each of them...and overcomes.  He's an inspiration to me daily, and his determined spirit and sweet smile (mixed in with his little preteen attitude... I won't paint him as too much of an angel since his halo is a little tarnished!  lol), drive me to be a stronger and better mom to him daily, and to teach him daily to turn to Jesus for his source of ultimate strength even when he feels so weak.

So if you rewind just a few days before his birthday... you arrive at probably one of the most memorable honors I've ever had the privilege of being a part of.  Saturday April 18, Kai was honored at the Make A Wish gala in downtown Raleigh!  Words can't begin to describe what that evening felt like to walk the red carpet, be greeted by name by the most loving people, and enter a stunning ballroom decorated in the most thoughtful and beautiful ways, by a team who has a passion like none other for kids facing lifelong and often terminal life challenges.  The theme was "Around the World in 80 Wishes", and my son, Kai, was honored by being the featured bio sharing his story of struggle and triumph to a room filled with generous and loving people who had helped make my little man's dream to learn to surf become a reality.  I wish I could sum up the emotions that overwhelmed my heart that evening.  Make A Wish and their incredible partners had the most stunning evening imaginable planned.  From the incredible meal, to live band, to silent auction (that Kai got to be the honored bell ringer for!!), every detail had been planned with great love and care.  And in the midst of all of it, they showed the film they had made to share Kai's story.  (link is below!)  There wasn't a dry eye in the room, including mine.  See, for the first time ever, I took a step back out of my normal roll of "mama bear" taking my little man to every doctor and specialist and therapist under the sun, and I watched my story from the perspective of an outsider.  And it hit me.  Hard.  I don't even think it hit me as hard that night (as I was stunned and amazed!) as it did the second time I watched it thru with my kids later that weekend.  See for me, it's life.  It's the daily battle I fight with my Kai boy.  I don't know anything else, and neither do my kids.  But as I sat at that table, honored with the presence and support of my incredible dad and mom, and 2 of my incredible friends, and my 4 beautiful kids, I had to fight back the tears that overflowed down my cheeks.  My little man is the most courageous fighter I know.  Hands down he's an overcomer.  He's walked a hell road that only continues to become more challenging to do the most simple of daily tasks like eating and brushing his teeth, but yet he never quits.  He hardly ever complains.  He never gives up.  He fights.  And when they called me on to stage with my little fighter and the entire ballroom of hundreds of people stood to give my Kai a standing ovation, I had to struggle to catch my breath.  I felt as though I should step back because my little man deserved that standing ovation all on his own.  He's the one deserving the honor.  And after the dinner and film, as the band started playing and people started dancing, a sweet young girl came up to my boy and beamed as she said "I want you to know I have a disease that has bad balance struggles too, but I've always wanted to learn to surf and never thought I could because my balance was too poor.  But I watched you on that movie, and you did it!  And I already talked to my dad and now I'm going to try too!"  My little fighter is inspiring people of all walks!  THAT is a God thing... how a little 11 year old boy can change the world one precious person at a time!  I just love how God does that... and I'm just honored to walk along side of him and witness it first hand :)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jnNyk16xCX8

(the above link is the incredible video sharing Kai's story...)

So to Make A Wish... thank you.  From the bottom of my heart I can't thank you enough for recognizing my sweet boy in his struggles and for blessing us with the incredible gift of the trip to Hawaii for him to learn to surf.  And to Becca, thank you for loving my little man like he was your own brother and wrapping up my babies with love.  Jerry, thank you for all you've done for me and for my kids, for your patience and understanding and compassionate heart.
And to each of you who have loved and prayed... thank you.  Dad and Mom Rule, thank you for everything.  Words don't describe how much the sacrifices you made to be with me thru that incredibly emotional weekend, not to mention all the incredible love and prayers and support before hand to just get there.  Bob and Kerry, thank you for being you and for being there for me thru the thick and thin.  Teri and Eli, thank you for your love and support leading up to the evening, not to mention your help getting myself and my crew ready, and fixing my hair into a sassy yet classy up-do :)  Chrissy, thank you for loaning me all the fabulous sparkles and shoes to make my outfit just right!  And to the rest of my family and friends who prayed me thru that incredibly emotional evening, thank you!  I couldn't have made it without your prayers.
And to those of you who don't know me or my precious 4 fighters personally... especially my warrior Kai... what's your excuse?  NO EXCUSES ALLOWED!  Get up and do whatever that has been tugging on your heart... no more "maybe tomorrow"... you aren't promised tomorrow so get up and make a difference TODAY!  With faith... ANYTHING is possible!

Brokenness and Butterflies

April 15. 2015

So before you go any further in this post, pause and scroll down and read my entry from Jan.11, 2015.  I'll wait... you'll need to read that first to fully grasp this journey.... so I'll sip my coffee (ok in reality, it's after 10pm as I write this and more like my red wine) while I wait...

Ok, now that you are all caught up, I'll move on :)  So "surrender" has been my life lesson these past few months.  It's been an incredibly tough lesson for stubborn old me.  Learning to rest quietly, not defend myself, and let God take the reigns, is something I've never been good at.  But these past few weeks I've seen God prove Himself faithful over and over in the most amazing ways, and I've been reminded again and again how trusting Him and letting go is the key to true joy.  Back in January of this year, I can honestly say it was the first time in my life I can remember fully 110% opening up my hands and giving Him my nightmare situation of this ending marriage, my PTSD from the abuse I'd walked thru, my stubborn and broken soul, and my kids and all that was jumbled up in the brokenness of the journey they were walking thru... I opened my hands and my heart and gave it to God.  Ok, in reality it was probably more like I threw it at His feet, because just giving it sounds too gentle after the agony in my soul, but I let Him have it.  All of it.  And I walked into that courtroom in January with open hands and not a fight in me.  Just begging God from the depths of my soul to give me what was best for the sake of my kids.  I knew He knew my mama heart, and He would fight my battle for me... if I would just be still.
Fast forward to the past few weeks.  April rolled in, and we had still not heard any word from the judge as to a ruling from our case in January.  In all honesty, it had been an incredible roller coaster of a past few months, so I was just riding the wave... surfing the storm as they say.  At times feeling like I had been knocked off my board and was smashing my head against the bottom of the ocean floor, and at other times, I was standing strong catching some of the strongest waves of my life.  Then last week I got a call.  I was at my office working job #1 of 3, and quite honestly, completely exhausted without a scrap of fight left in me to face the day at hand.  What followed was a God kiss that blew my socks right off.  The orders were in.  Four full months after our initial hearing, we finally had a ruling.  The judge had given me primary physical custody of my 4 precious babies.  The ruling not only left me speechless (a rare thing for those who know me well!), but it flooded my eyes with tears.  You see, if you read my post from back in January, you remember how I walked in wanting to fight, but in the quiet wee hours of the night before court, God had whispered to my soul to just be still and let him fight the battle for me.  So I hadn't fought.  I had defended my kids, but had surrendered my fight and just given it to God.  And yet again... He had stretched my patience and made me wait 4 full months for a ruling.  But as always, He has a plan, and He is faithful.  He fights the battles for us.  And I'm learning slowly but surely, that His plan IS always perfect.  Maybe not always what we planned for ourselves, and not always what we envisioned, but if we are willing to let go and let Him have control, He shows up.  Big.
So in the waiting... I've seen Him prove faithful over and over again.  From hugs, emails, texts, and calls from friends and family far and near... to incredible generous gifts that gave me enough money to put food on the table for my kids and pay the bills... to stunning rainbows thru the sky in the middle of horrible thunderstorms... He's faithfully reminded me that He makes beautiful things from our darkest times.

So while in the waiting and learning, I did a lot of healing.  As those who know me know well, I love art, especially ink art... on the body :)  So I designed a tattoo to represent my letting go.  It's my symbol of HOPE.  Of new beginnings.  As you will see in the picture, the base of my two dandelion flowers form a cross,.. the foundation of my HOPE.  Because without Christ in this journey of healing, I don't know where I'd be (and not sure I even want to begin to imagine that!).  And the dandelion is only a weed, but in the wind and under pressure, it's seeds spread and bright and cheerful flowers (and yes I  know they are weeds, but they are pretty still!) grow.  :)  But also thru this storm of my life, I've claimed that God makes beauty from our ashes.  I've claimed it because if He doesn't, my journey has been a waste.  And I don't believe for a moment that the pain of this road has been a waste.  So the butterfly hangs out in a cocoon for a while, in a dark and confined space, not knowing what will become of itself and really just thinking that life is over.  But just at the exact moment when the time is right, that cocoon cracks and a stunning butterfly emerges.  So in my ink art, my dandelion seedlings transform into butterflies... because with HIS strength and healing... with brave wings... I fly...

Letting Go and Pressing Ahead

March 26, 2015

It's been another long while I know... I often avoid writing when I'm processing and it's been a whirlwind month of change.  Lots of amazing and wonderful days, balanced out with lots of incredible challenges being used to stretch and grow and strengthen me.  A lot of hours and tears spent alone with God, questioning, seeking and healing wounds that ran incredibly deep in my soul.

Valentines Day of 2015, I officially became a divorced single mom.  I was served my final divorce papers that morning.  (for those who've read my older blogs... Yes, I was served divorce papers on Christmas Eve, but he filed them wrong so he had to correct the errors and I was served the corrected and final ones on Valentines Day) It was officially the start of a new chapter in my life.  It was a bittersweet day, I won't lie.  The finality of it all set in hard.  I struggled with feeling like I had a "scarlet letter" and would always be defined by that.  I waged war on that thought, realizing that it was a lie being used to eat at my soul.  I was not labeled with a big "D".  I am defined 110% by God alone and who He says I am.  I am a free, strong, daughter of the King.  My painful past does not define me.  It is scars, yes, but scars that make me unique and beautiful.  A woman who God will use in amazing ways in His time.  So the past month has been a month of God gathering all the pieces of my broken self and putting them back together... a mosaic of sorts... something new and beautiful that's still a work in progress.  I jokingly told a friend the other day that I'm pretty sure this past month God has made himself a new and stunning salt water aquarium in heaven this past month... after all, He says He gathers our tears in a bottle, but I'm pretty sure mine overflowed that bottle so He went ahead and filled the aquarium (with stunning sea life too I'm certain!!) :)

But to be honest, I wouldn't trade these desperate broken times for anything, because I know God has used them to change me.  I wouldn't wish them on my worst enemy, but I wouldn't trade the lessons I've learned.  He's worked on areas in the depths of my soul that I never would have allowed Him to touch before.  I've learned to let go and look up (yep!  new ink coming to remind me of that too!!).  I've found that a lot of the time, my looking up comes when I'm lying flat on my face on my living room floor.  When I feel I don't have the strength to stand to face another one of the battles waging war on my precious babies and I, and when my body is racked with sobs, God reaches over and touches me there.  There's a sweet healing that comes from just letting go and staying quiet.  I can't put it into words, but there's a peace that just holds the broken pieces as HE whispers "I am here.  I've got this."

I've learned to enjoy the God kisses daily... to look for them as His sweet reminders that He is faithful.  I said it earlier I know, but I spent a lot of the past year of my separation before the divorce was actually final, questioning God.  Why God?  Why did you choose me to be the mom of a child with special needs that are so rare nobody even knows what to say or do for my sweet boy except document him as though he's a science experiment?  Why did you allow me to move to NC, away from OH, from all my family who would drop everything in a heartbeat to help me and cry with me and fight along side of me, but instead I'm here, over 8 hours away?  Why did God allow me to get into a marriage that was full of struggles and pain and abuse?  Why couldn't the good in the marriage win over the bad and make it last?  Why did God allow a former close friend of mine to start dating the man I was separated from when she was supposed to be walking this painful road with me?  Why did a whole circle of my closest friends abandon me in my darkest hour without even a single word?  Why God?  Why did you choose me to be a single mom of 4 precious kids who desperately needed a family?  Why?

I grew up thinking it was wrong to question God.  But I have come to realize that asking God the big "Why" questions is ok.  Because for me, it was in those desperate moments of asking why that I discovered a whole new relationship with Jesus.  I realized He wants the real and raw me.  He already knows my hearts questions and desires and hurts, so voicing them gave me a new and real relationship with Him.  And in those moments, I realized that there's not a lot of answers to my "whys".  Many of the things were just things allowed because of poor choices, and others were just because God chose me out of all the women in the world because He has a special plan for me as His daughter, and He wants to use the pain to grow me and bring Himself glory through my story.  And I am trusting that somehow, and someway, He will.

I've heard it said that a butterfly is only beautiful because it has gone thru the darkest of times wrapped tight in the cocoon, only to emerge as something stunningly beautiful.  So I guess God just has me in the cocoon... but I'm also pretty sure I am seeing some peep holes of light from my cocoon :)

There have been SO many of you who have covered myself and my precious kids in prayer thru this journey.  And especially over the past week, you've prayed, and some of you have even wept tears with me over the incredible pain.  Thank you.  Each of you know who you are and I'm grateful beyond words.  As the week winds down, I'm thankful as I can look back and see His faithfulness.  There's the verse in the Bible (I'm horrible with where verses are found) that says "He covers us under the shadow of His wings."  I love that... it means we are held tight by His side, right by His heart.  This week He held my kids and I tight.  On Monday afternoon, my ex of a month announced to my kids and I that he's engaged to that girl.  I won't lie.  I wanted to hurl.  My kids were a train wreck.  God knew I would need my sister to just hold my hand as I shook and wept and begged God to take away the pain.  He knew my kids would need their cousins to bring smiles thru their tears.  He brought just the right friends to both myself and my kids this week to help them process thru their confused and aching hearts.  God kisses.  And last night as my sweet little 8 yr old curled up in my bed in the middle of the night and I dried her tears for the hundredth time this week, I thanked God for choosing me to be their mom, and for giving me the strength to take this journey one moment at a time and to point my kids to Jesus.  So although the hurt hasn't stopped and that aquarium is still growing in heaven :) ... I'm finding joy in the moment, thanksgiving in the storm, and God kisses in the rain.