Loved

It’s been five months since I’ve returned to my old friend The Blog, a place where I try to inspire single moms and other readers, update my family and friends on my life, and record things as they happen. It is difficult not to go back and delete some entries, but I want to keep everything here. Life is a story, and we do not get to delete the parts that we are embarrassed of or wish we had written differently.

Blogs are scary for me because I have no idea who is reading this or how it will be taken. I hope that if you do have a question or even a differing opinion, you will speak up about it. I hope that if you misunderstood me, you will allow me to try to explain it. I want to learn from you (!!!), and maybe even have a real-life discussion instead of just liking each other's Facebook posts! :)

Today I want to talk about the hardest things of all. I know I always talk about the significance of the missing member-of-the-opposite-sex (See The H Word, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera- said in the grumpy voice of my high school Latin teacher), and thankfully that lack in my life has brought me here today, even more aware of my weaknesses.

 Actually, the hardest thing in my life of all is not the lack of a significant other. The hardest thing is the one thousand things that I still try to replace God with. Sometimes it’s obvious, like recently, when a love song made me feel so lonely and unloved, and I wondered why I do not have that kind of love myself… Or how I burst into tears while trying to get A ready for bed, or while taking a quiz, or in the car before work, because I have been trying so very hard to do everything on my own without God’s help and without spending time with Him.

(Run-on sentences are necessary sometimes, guys.)

Sometimes it’s not so obvious, like the pounds that have slowly and steadily crept up on me, or the yucky, sneaky feelings of codependency, resulting in manipulative or hurtful words spoken to someone else. When I care more about what others think than anything else, or when I’m willing to die on the hill that is the least significant thing, or when I find myself in a very frightening place mentally, or even after one too many drinks.

And that's when I wonder, how on earth did I get HERE?

I want to say here, loud and clear, that nothing is ever going to work for us... We can try to fill our lives with a relationship with a guy, food, shopping sprees, physical exercise, working, organizing, friendships, family (all have the potential of being good things until we abuse them), and we can fill them with the “less acceptable” Christian sins such as promiscuity, lust, drinking, drugs etc... I have tried all of these things and more. We can fill our lives with good and bad things, until all we care about is getting more and more and more of them (that good old dopamine release!).

When I saw A running across a field today (well, it was more like speed-trotting over lumpy grass in her red cowgirl boots; it was kind of terrifying to watch), I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that no matter what she does in her life, I will always love her. I do not love her for her actions, I love her for just existing. I think she is adorable, smart, and gifted in ways I cannot even begin to know, but beyond that I think I have a tiny understanding of her worth in each one of these moments of normalcy, as all loving parents must have. Whether she draws me a picture or she disobeys me and runs into the middle of the road, I love her. Whether she has an accident in her Frozen underpants or rubs my back with her tiny hands until I fall asleep, her life is priceless to me (and even more so because I feel like she is what saved me from my darkness). The most difficult thing in my walk with God is trying to wrap my head around the fact that He has ALWAYS loved me as much as I love A, and much more. I do try, and try, and try, and try to paint Him a picture of my actions… “See God, see what I did for you today? Do you love me? Do you think I am beautiful? Do you think I am worth knowing?”

His answer is, “Are you kidding me? I DELIGHT in you! You’re so amazing!  Honey, I loved you when you were still pooping your pants and eating your boogers!”

But seriously, when nothing is working, please join me. I am already on my knees. I have nothing more to give to anyone, not my child, not my coworkers, not clients, not to my school, or friends, without my Heavenly Dad. And I can promise you more often than I have prayed anything else, I have prayed the simple words: “Please God. Please help me just get through today.”

You are not alone. You are not to live in a state of condemnation. You are free. 

These photos were done by Creative Image, Pullman, Washington.

When Dad Is Not There

"Who's dat?"

"The mommy."

"Who's dat?"

"The daddy."

"Who's dat?"

"The kids"

"Where's my daddy?"

So today A asked The Really Hard Question..
I thought she would ask this at age six. That's not very realistic of me, but I was hoping to put it off for awhile until I was better "prepared". I know that some single mamas (as well as those who are children of a single parent) are kind enough to take the time to read this blog, so I just want to take a second and have a real moment: It hurt. Amidst all of  my statements and feelings that God is our father and how we can do hard stuff and I love being A's mom and I'm so supported by my family and community and we'll be okay, of course it's still very hard.
There was about a five-second pause after she asked this that felt like maybe a year. My brain tried to register a few things-- first, that my barely 2-year-old child was capable of understanding that something was missing and is able to vocalize that, and second, was just.. pain in my chest.
I can't describe it better than that. Then I said, "A, who is your daddy?"

"Unca Bian." She said confidently. Honestly, I think she just said this knowing that Brian is Asher's daddy, but I am so glad that she knows how loved she is and that he is a father figure.

This isn't going to be an inspiring, completely well-thought out post but I just want to say...thank you to all the dads out there who are loving the little ones, whether they are related or not, whether they get praise and honor for it, or are simply do it without thanks. Thank you to all the dads who know that they are not enough and ask Christ for help. Thank you to my dad for loving me. Thank you to the famous Unca Bian.
And thank you to all the people who are dealing with the empty space of a missing person in their life, but are walking in faith believing that God is more than enough.

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." Isaiah 41:10

That is all.

Monday.

Hello my friends. It's almost been a month.
I'm still learning the meaning of WE CAN DO HARD THINGS, my current favorite saying. It's echoing in my head with each problem that pops up..
This morning I had to laugh (in my head) because I drove to work singing
1) Pippi Longstocking theme song
2) Oats and Beans and Barley Grow (trust me, you don't want this in your head)
3) Baby Beluga
4) Call Me Maybe (COMPLETE with dramatic hand motions.. "Where ya think ya goin' baybay!)

All upon A's request.
I then successfully dropped A off at her babysitter's. I'm ashamed to say that when I saw the beginnings of tears, I pondered aloud on the possibility of her getting a snack and watching Pippi Longstocking at her babysitter's (unheard of) in order to prevent the fountain. (she hasn't seen this babysitter in a few weeks, and she is unfamiliar with their house).
Whilst driving to work, this amazing hip-hoppy Christian song came on complete with rapping, and I was so enthralled of the truth in the song that I started tearing up while simultaneously thinking that some people would probably make fun of it. Too bad. It's amazing.
So then I got to work and gave a informative speech on emergency contraception and the abortion pill to my two victims, faithful coworkers Charlene and Jeannie who are both moms and very supportive and encouraging and listened to me talk for ELEVEN WHOLE MINUTES (the speech was supposed to be 5-7 minutes).
Anyways,

I'm
     Thankful.

Because earlier this week after a really hard day I called Lucy sobbing that I really didn't like A right now, and she told me that it was.... NORMAL. She even gave me examples of normal women who had a normal problem of occasionally normally, not liking their normal child.
Because for the first time I am living from paycheck to paycheck and it's really not that bad because I have everything I need and ten times more support than most people do.
Because it cannot ever be overstated that God still loves you through your (REPETITIVE) mistakes, and He is always, always willing to give you opportunities to learn and grow and have more faith that you did last week.
Because I worked hard for my 85% on my History midterm exam and I am darn proud of it!
Because I gave that speech, and I made it through the hard spots!
Because my boss payed for my awesome haircut! (see below)
Because one hard, tired, yucky day at a time I am proving that single moms CAN do school and work!

In Christ Alone!

The Facing the Music Clique Just Got Real

I'm an extrovert.
There are a hundred things I would like to do. There are a hundred dreams. The last thing on my list is to be real. The last thing on my list is to sit down and have a heart to heart with God.

We CAN Do Hard Things

I zoned off after a long day of work, helping clients and entering data and making too much coffee.

My mind jumps from Ellis Island immigrants hoping to inherit the promise to dirty diapers to my dirty car to planning staff birthdays at work to Avalon's friend's birthday party to finding a babysitter to my big assignment due to volunteering to being able to pay the bills next week to finding winter boots for Avalon to spending enough time on schoolwork to not sleeping at night to....

I looked over my events on Facebook and found another invitation to a Halloween party, and tears threatened to overflow as I thought about all the things I need to do this weekend. 

On top of it all, school.. although I love it, it threatens to dominate my life and has been the cause for my stress levels climbing higher and higher up the mountain of papers and facts and textbooks! 

The thought of climbing (or squeezing) into a Halloween costume and making merry is terrifying and seems ridiculous to me when faced with the rest of my week. At the same time I really want to, I mean, AM DYING TO/LONG TO, have fun and forget about my life for awhile, and have a real, meaningful conversation that is not cut short by demands for milk and "Hold me!"

The theme of my week has been casting my cares on God, a concept which I have been ignoring until today. Today, I fully felt the weight (again) of what it means to NOT do this (I felt like one of those huge, buzzing Idaho beetles that no one knows the name of, squashed under a bowling ball). 

I can't be all these characteristics-- a good mom, a good student, a good employee, a good daughter, a good sister, a good friend, a good volunteer, a good..person, and on top of that, be in shape,  be self controlled, look fabulous, and use my time wisely... 

It is a crushing burden that I don't know how to bear. I am juggling things that are very important to me, but sooner or later I continue drop the ball in certain areas.

Along with my other assignments, I've also been pursuing a major in Facebook, and I think that has caused more damage than I even know. Comparison is the thief of joy. Using all my mental energy on conversations and comments and likes and videos and friends, who simply cannot go beyond the virtual screen, is so unhelpful. Can we get together in real life now? 

With every Christian blog post, there should be some "sound Biblical references", right? Well, too bad. Go look in your Bible! That's where I need to be now.

And then back to the books, and then I will stay up too late and fall asleep hard, and I will probably wake up with A poking me in the back with her feet and saying, "GET UP NOW MOM". And that will be okay. 

Because I am small, and God is big, but He does care about the little things, and He will give me the rest I need in unexpected ways.

The H Word

One of the most unhelpful things that has been said to me repeatedly, by beautiful, loved and well-meaning friends..and acquaintances..and strangers, is this:

I don't know how you do it. I've been praying for a husband for you.

In addition to:
When I met my husband, I wasn't looking. It just happened.
Have you met anyone recently?
Are you interested in anyone?

I know these dear people can not possibly know the discouragement these questions bring to me. I do not want to rebuke them or hurt their feelings by telling them not to say it, either. I appreciate their thoughts and prayers and kindness so very much, but I need to write something.

Please do not pray for a husband for me.

I know, I sound crazy. Who does not want to be prayed for? Me. I have spent a large chunk of my teenage and young adult years longing to find someone to fill the void in me. I have been absolutely off-target for all of these years. I have crossed boundaries to feel loved and valued, and experienced devastating consequences from my own pursuits. Even as a mom of a newborn, I have looked around every corner for my "future husband" (a familiar phrase in my vocabulary).
 I have also grown up thinking that, as a woman, it is the most important thing for me to get married and serve my husband. It is not. Actually, the most important thing is to experience intimacy, perfect friendship, and immeasurable love in a relationship with God. The rest can follow, if He writes that in my story.

I would much rather you pray that I surrender myself to be totally dependent on God and experience true fulfillment in my soul, body, and heart.
(And nope, I will not be wearing one of those "I'm dating Jesus!" T-shirts).

Another struggle after hearing these words has been an ongoing feeling of guilt for my daughter's missing father. I cannot give her that. But I have to laugh at myself here: Seriously? A has entire verses in the Bible dedicated to her (see Ps. 82:3, 64:5, Jer. 45:11, Deut. 10:18, and many more). My brother, grandpa, and dad are obsessed with her and regularly hug her, hold her, and give her words of affirmation and quality time. A has several other fatherly guys at church who go out of their way to pay attention to her. And, for the heck of it, I guess I will mention that her biological father has been served court papers and could easily pursue rights to see her at any time, but he has not. That is also up to God... not me. When people say to me, "We are just praying for a husband for you", they do not know how vulnerable I am in this area. I relapse into thinking that what I am is not enough, that I am incomplete. It makes me feel like my problems can be condensed down into the simple solution of getting married. 

In the last year I have recently come to the joyful discovery and relief of understanding that I do not need to be married until God specifically puts a guy directly in my path, preferably wearing a blinking sign that says,"I am The One". I am experiencing contentment, joy, and peace while being a single woman and a single parent like I never have before (you can ask me if I am still feeling this next week, and give me a smack if I am a little low again). I do not know why it took this long to have this perspective, but I am so thankful.
The only reason I want to be married right now is for the sake of convenience- which is not a bad thing. I would love to have the choice to stay at home with A more often, have some financial support,  and be loved and wanted and desirable to someone. Right now, I do not have any sacrificial thoughts or selfless dreams of assisting my future husband; it's all about me and A. I am just trying to get through school, work, relationships, and parenting. If I married now for these reasons, all I would be doing is taking from my husband. There would be high expectations of his giving, without getting anything back from me.

When I am going through daily difficult things, I think about my future husband (the big F.H., I'll call him), and pray that he is also discovering things about God and about himself. I pray that F.H. is standing strong against temptations. I pray when he hits rock bottom that he will receive strength and hope like I always have! I pray that God would shape me into the woman that this man needs, and vice versa. I do not pray that I will meet him tomorrow.

God has already picked him out. He already knows the date we will meet, our wedding songs, the names of our grandkids, our many rough days, and our good days, too.

And the answer to the question, have you met someone?
No, I have not. In fact, I have never, in a single moment of my life, known what it was like to be fully loved by someone. No one has ever committed to me, just me, nor have I treated them the way I should treat a brother. Oh, and this is not how I ever thought it would be, but I've basically been a kind of reluctant nun as of two and a half years ago. Looking behind me, I am confident that the best is yet to come. 

There you have it.

                     “I’d rather have the right God than the wrong man.” – Christen Rapske

~Kallie