Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Easy...


I have been doing a lot of soul searching lately. And trying to listen to everyone, and yet really no one at all. And, if you think this seems contradictory, just wait. It will only get worse.

I saw recently something that said "Easy really isn't a four-letter word." At the time, I laughed, thinking how strange the sign was worded. Easy will always be a four-letter word. Despite what our eyes or ears may perceive about easy, you will never be able to spell it differently.

Someone made an off-handed comment to me about a certain situation being easy for me. And, it hit me hard. It stung, like I had literally been slapped. It wasn't intended this way, but it still stung. And, someone else made the comment to me that I am impossible to make happy. Again, it wasn't intended to sting, but it still stung.  My heart knows none of this was said to attack me.  My heart was a little stunned at the honesty about the statements, but made me think.  And, I am going to be honest, I am gonna be blunt.  I am going to pour my heart out.  I am not angry.  I am not bashing anyone, just trying to process. 

Easy seems so simple.  Easy.  Uncomplicated.  Stress-free.  Simple.  The thought that from the outside, my life looks easy.  I really wanted to shout from the roof, really???  This season of my life looks easy?  I didn’t.  I didn’t want to bring attention to the struggles I am going through.  And, then, I thought, you know, people don’t see it because I do not allow it.  I want them all to think I have it together, that I am walking this life with ease.  While it hurt like something else because of the way I handle my thoughts, it probably was intended as a compliment. 

As I have said before, I love words and their meanings. Easy means: 1) not hard or difficult; requiring no great labor or effort; 2) free from pain, discomfort, worry, or care; and the list goes on. And, again, the sting still smarts. I feel like at this point in life, I am struggling to keep my head about water. I daily quote Isaiah 43:2-4. I tell myself I cannot be afraid, God has called my name, and is holding my hand. I am his, and he is with me. Regardless of how high the waters may seem, I will not drown. When my boat starts to rock with adversity, it will not sink. These rough waters are nothing, because God is going to be with me, strengthening every move I make. Even when I can’t see the road in front of me, the path I am going to take, it will not be a dead end. He knows exactly where I am going, because He has already planned out my next step. I am so valued to him, he would give up everything to have me. He will not leave me. Ever. Regardless of who or what I am, where I have been or what I keep doing. I am His.

So, in the middle of the night, when I am trying to soothe away nightmares of three precious babies, he is there. When three little girls want to sleep with the light on for a week after they get home, it is okay. He is cradling their heads in his lap. When they are out of my physical reach, and battling things I will never know about, he is right there with them, surrounding them with his strength and his shield. How do I know this? How can I walk this out? His word says it, I read it, and I am beating it into my brain. Easy?  Uncomplicated?  Stress-free? Simple?  Not one bit. But, baby step by baby step, it is happening.

When my girls leave, I pray. When I go to bed and they aren’t home, I pray. When something silly pops into my head and they aren’t with me, I pray. It seems like that is all I do when they aren’t home. And, I have little to no fear about what they are doing or if they are safe. However, I do it quietly. Sometimes it is a whispered ten second prayer with them, and other times, I wait until they are gone before praying. This last Friday night, I felt the urge to take them all into my arms (and what an armful!) and pray with them. And, I am so thankful I did. I prayed God’s love and protection around them. I thanked God for His promise never to leave us, reminding each of us girls how we have nothing to fear, that we are to be strong and brave, because God is with us. I took longer than normal, and was surprised when not a single child fidgeted or tried to hurry me. Right before they left, Sara thanked me for praying so long with them. While part of my struggle started right after they left, I prayed, made my heart right and left the girls right there, safe in God’s hands.

This week has been rough. And, we are only on Wednesday. Not sure the events of the weekend, but the girls are not adjusting well. All three had terrible nightmares Sunday night. Jess has cried every single night before bed. Cassie has asked to sleep with the light on. My heart is breaking at the thought of the demons they are battling in their heads. And, easy? This friends, is worse than the entire process of divorce. I want to change it. I want to fix it. I want to fight their battles for them. I can’t. Not because I am not capable, not because I am a failure. But because it isn’t my battle to fight. God has a plan for them, just like he has a plan for me. I have to trust him with them, regardless of how much I want to take their battle and make it mine.

What may seem easy, uncomplicated, stress-free, without any labor, is actually me fighting my hardest, holding it all in, feeling the weight of so much weighing me down. Afraid to say what my mind is thinking. Afraid to vent, because I do not want fear to come in. I do not want to let bitterness overtake me. I do not want fear to replace whatever joy or hope I have. I know God is going to use every single detail of my life (and the girls’, too) and use them all for good. Because that is how big my God is. He is able to do above all. Not only is he able to, but he is in the process of.

Bringing me to my second issue at stake, I realize I am complaining, criticizing and trying to control so many other things around me. Not because I really think there is anything wrong, but because everything else seems so out of control. And, for that, I really am sorry. I hate to think that in my moment of pain, I am hurting those around me. It seems so selfish. And, I hate it. I don’t want to be seen as miserable or unhappy. And, really I am not. But the truth of the matter is, when my kids are suffering, there isn’t much that will make me happy. It is hard to fight the battle going on in my mind, and even worse to do so when I am tired and trying so hard to keep smiling through it all.

If my walk seems easy, it isn’t because it actually is. If it seems as though I have this single mom thing nailed and am succeeding, it isn’t because I am. It is because I am too tired of the fight to admit there is one. It is because I am trying so hard to keep anyone else from knowing what the storm looks like from my standpoint. While I am glad it appears as though I am floating on air, but in reality, I am on the verge of tears every time I turn around. Not sure really what else to say. My heart feels raw. 


Now that I have laid it all out, I am gonna think about this thing Sara and I have done every morning this week.  It starts with me rolling outta bed a little early and starting a pot of coffee.  It ends with Sara, ready for the day, anxious to share a cup of coffee (mostly cream, in reality) with her Momma.  Not because this season is easy, but because we so desperately need each other through it.  And, in all honestly, I do not want to allow anything to stop that.  No, let me rephrase that.  I will not let anything stop it.  Even if it means I get up early, and lose a little more sleep, I have finally found something that connects us together, makes her feel special, and helps us both wake up.  It makes her happy to get out of bed, and it makes me feel like an amazing Momma.


After I think about those incredible moments, I'm gonna remind myself of a second sweetheart of a girl that I fought for 13 long weeks, on my back the entire time, to stay inside of me, terrified she would make her way into the world too soon.  I think about the colic she and I fought through, praying it would end before she turned one and I would survive (seriously, I prayed this...).  I think about her dreams of being a real cowgirl one day, her positive outlook on everything, and her constant reminder to "Bee strong."  Lol, while flapping like a bumblebee.  You wanna see it? Click here. She is one of the brightest rays of sunshine in my whole world.  Love this girl to pieces.

Then, I move on to this face.  And I just know that God is up there laughing with me.  I have a feeling this little surprise baby was nothing more than a miracle.  While so many times, I find myself near tears and exhaustion with the trouble she has created, I also find myself laughing in spite of the mess and ensuing chaos.  She is a hoot.  A comedian at heart, a monkey with no fear of falling, and one of the most compassionate little girls ever.  She caused me so much heartache and stress, and while I wish I could have been different, I have learned that she really is a God sent miracle.  Even if only for moments like right now when I need to laugh instead of cry.  Like this second right now, knowing I only have to look as far as this picture for a laugh. 

I know I am blessed beyond measure.  I know that I am far better now than I was a year or two ago.  And, I know in another year, this season will seem like nothing.  I can do this, because the weakness I feel right now is going to be turned into God-strength.  And nothing can beat that.
 


 


 

No comments:

Post a Comment