She opened her window.

My beautiful Sweet Pea has been emotional for the last 10 days or so, quite clingy, and not quite herself sometimes.  I've been wondering what was going on, but was unable to pinpoint it.  Tonight, I think I am better able to understand. Tonight, after bedtime prayers, my sweet, sassy, perfectly quirky little princess opened the window to her heart for me, for one of the very first times in a way that both nearly broke my own heart, and amazed me with the depth of her self-knowledge and ability to articulate her emotions with clarity beyond her young three-years.  I had kissed her goodnight, as she said to me (roughly, edited to remove some names), "Mama, my friends don't see me anymore and play with me and don't like me anymore.  They're my best friends and I love them and I miss them."  

You see, almost two weeks ago, she went through a big transition at daycare, where she spends the majority of her time.  She moved from one floor to the next, from young toddler rooms to older rooms where the preschoolers are growing up.  And, while it isn't a big deal geographically, or in many ways, it dawned on me tonight, that it's a big change to her.  

She's been making it seem pretty breezy and not that big of a deal, even though her mama was sad about it at first.  She loves the kids and staff upstairs and will thrive and flourish in the new environment, and I haven't been worried about it at all.

But tonight, as I tried to calm her fears that her friends do in fact still like her, love her, and even miss her too, I realized that she was feeling her first real insecurity.

That time and distance mean people don't care, don't like you, don't miss you, or don't love you.

It's a common thought, even for adults, so I was blown away by her innocent little saddened heart.

After comforting her and reassuring her that she is loved, that her friends miss her, and some will soon be back in the same room as her with the new schedule, teachers, friends, and environment, I left the room and began thinking about what had just occurred.  I understand where she's coming from.

Her previous transitions at daycare have all been on one floor, with schedules that are relatively similar, where she would see the same people passing in hallways.  Her last transitions were done at a younger age where, while still forming attachments to teachers and children, she wasn't as mature and able to process and fear things like she does now.

So this was her first big change at daycare.   She still sees some of her most beloved people on a regular basis, but there are a lot of empty spaces in her day that used to be filled by people she had grown exceptionally close to.

Not only that, but on another level, I can feel her equating that to some of her past experiences where he dad was absent from her life.

And I can understand why she may feel that gaps in time and distance can affect relationships.

I mean, really, they often do.  Only the strong ones survive and grow, I suppose.  It's amazing to me that she is so young and already experiencing these sort of friendship quandaries. 

So, to my darling little three-year-old, her heart is in some sort of jeopardy, and it's my blessing and burden to calm her fears and speak life, truth, and love into her heart, just as with her brothers.  I try to build up their store-houses with these things, to help build their self-esteem, knowing that the way of the world is often to bring you down.  I never want my children to feel worthless, unloved, or anything other than of exceptional value and worthy of the deepest, most sincere love on earth.

They're treasures, and they should know it.

While this moment where the window was open was over an insecurity, I am so fortunate that she chose to open up to me, share her deepest fear at this moment with me, and trusted me with her heart.  I wish I could make her feel better, but aside from praying, which we did, only time will heal.  

And, my darling, my sweet, sweet girl, I can assure you, you are worth missing, and you are loved by those that you  miss right now.  

You've Got a Friend

It's been said many times that as we get older, it gets more difficult to make friends.  Maybe it's not necessarily difficult to make them, it just isn't as easy to come across them, I suppose.

I have found this to be true.  I look at my children, and they will make friends almost instantly. Sure, most won't be lifelong friends, and half of the time, these "new friends" are people they'll never see again, but they're so non-judgmental and uninhibited in their friendship making that it's something in which I find myself awestruck.

I remember being in kindergarten, like my oldest is now, and making new friends.  Thanks to the technology of my generation, I am actually still friends with many from my youngest school-age years, even if we aren't close, we can connect on Facebook and keep up with each other's lives.  I am still friends with my high school best friend, and my college best friend as well.  I have a handful of online best friends who have also been there for 16 years or so.

I have been blessed with the fortune of making a few really close friends in the end of my college years, as well as a really close friend in the beginning of my motherhood years.  I have one close friend from my the end of my childbearing years as well (that makes me sound much older than I am, I suppose).  

I then found my world quaking and myself withdrawn and secretive about it.  My walls and my guard went up, and I shut myself down in many ways.  I got a new job and met new people, but I didn't really allow myself to make friends with them for a while. I was terrified that what they would find, they would not like, and then I would be an outsider who was nothing but drama and chaos.  

As time went on, I opened up to some, and grew quite close.  I gained a few of my current closest friends in life at that job, and I am so very blessed.  Through that job, I began attending my church, where I have met even more people, that I would consider to be more than just acquaintances, they're my friends.

Much of these friendships, while I wouldn't say are superficial in any way, are not deep-rooted at this time, though many have the potential to be so.  I hope that more become rooted as time goes on.

That said, this evening, I had an experience that caught me off-guard.

It was a transitional experience, I think.

I think I made a new friend.

This friend.. well, I've known her a while, and I thought of her as my friend at church anyway, but as I said, not necessarily a deep rooted friendship.  But tonight, I found myself feeling like a school-age child as I went home, realizing I had exchanged phone numbers with my friend and text her a couple times.

Now, this friend, I've seen her and conversed with her many times, topics both light and deep, and we've exchanged quite a few hugs. I always enjoy seeing her, and I have hoped she felt the same.

Tonight though, I don't know what really switched.  Perhaps nothing really did, except that I really sat down and realized I had this friend, who had been there for quite some time, and she really did want to pursue my company and my friendship.  She told me "I love your heart."

Immediately after, the enemy was on my back telling me that people couldn't really "love my heart," it was just something you say to be nice.

Ugh.  At least I knew it was a lie.

It got me thinking about making friends as an adult.  As a mom.  As a single mom.  As someone who had recently let down her guard in a big way, and is allowing new people in without them really having to "prove" that I could trust them, because I'm not nearly as guarded as I was even a few months ago.

Where I am in life, I do not get out much. I go to work most hours of the week, I go to church, and I go to the grocery store.  That's pretty much it for any invested time regularly.  So, in line with my invested time, most of the meaningful friendships I've been blessed with over the past two years are through work, and one that was mostly through church.

But tonight, I realized I made a new friend, in my new season of life, with my new hope and my new faith.  And for some reason, that seems like a big deal. I am excited to get to know her better in the time to come, and I am so very thankful that she feels the same way.  

I have been so very blessed by the rich friendships I carry in life, especially through the hardest struggles and deepest valleys I've been through.  But, there's always room for new friends, too.

A Healed Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a big deal to my heart, and has been for a long time.  It's a family, love, and gratitude focused holiday that I've always adored.

Thanksgiving this year was a bigger deal than I realized.

A year ago at Thanksgiving, I was still married to a man who had gone MIA.  I was brokenhearted, on the verge of feeling defeat, feeling a bit like a failure, feeling lonely, feeling anxious, and feeling a bit out of place in my own world.

The children and I were invited to Thanksgiving dinner with our friends and some of their family.  I accepted, knowing that my friend knew my heart and emotional state quite well, knowing I would feel safe, and that my children would have fun.  Still, I was nervous, not knowing how the others at dinner would approach the fact that he was not with us this time, as he had been months before when we were over for Easter.  I was cautiously optimistic that no one would ask a single question or even mention his absence in our lives.  The day, as far as I remember, was wonderful, filled with joy and laughter, friends and great food.

But I missed him.  I felt like our family was incomplete in some way.  I came home that evening, without my kids, I believe, and cried as I realized I went the day without him and made it through.  I longed for the vision of life that I had thought we were creating.

I spent a little bit of time over the past few weeks in prayer, trying to prepare myself emotionally and mentally for what this year might be like, whether the children and I were home alone celebrating in solitary fashion, or if we were fortunate enough to be surrounded by people we cherish somewhere.  I knew in my heart I would be emotionally and mentally okay if we were going to be celebrating alone, although I hoped we wouldn't be.  It wouldn't have been devastating though, like I may have felt it would have last year.

This year, he's still missing, and I am divorced.  This year, we were invited to the same family home for Thanksgiving dinner.  I've not been feeling well, so I was a bit quiet this year amidst all the hustle and bustle, but I felt at home anyway.  My friend still knows me well, and I know her family accepts me and my children for who we are, as we are, how we are, even without him.

When the children and I arrived home tonight, they were all fast asleep in the van, and I sat there for a bit, realizing that it was my first Thanksgiving as a divorced, single mother.

I didn't cry.  I didn't even emotionally flinch.

I then realized that I didn't miss him at all today.

This year, he was mentioned.  We discussed how the son who used to look so much like him looks less like him this year, and how my other son looks much more like him now.  I talked about how some of their mannerisms are very much like their dad.  I mused over how my daughter doesn't have close attachments to men, except my friend's husband, my dad, my brother-in-law, and she's somewhat close to a co-worker and her uncles.  But she's never felt a relationship with a dad that she would remember, and it affects her, somewhat, I think.

I was even asked by one of the family members if I would ever consider remarriage or having children in the future if "the right guy" came along.  I didn't freak out or withdraw really, although I was completely taken aback, I didn't act like it.

I didn't cry.

I didn't miss him.  Not like I used to.  I mostly miss him on behalf of my kids, and I feel sorry for him missing out on them.

But I didn't hinder me.

It didn't overwhelm me.

It didn't cause me anxiousness or nervousness.  I didn't even think about him before going.  I didn't sit and wonder if anyone would ask about him or mention him or worry about how I would react if it happened.

That's a lot of healed wounds.

Thank you, Jesus.

If it weren't for the Cleansing Stream retreat less than a month ago, I am sure I would be in a different emotional state tonight.

But I'm okay.

The kids and I are okay.

I don't long for him to love us.  I don't feel like we are missing out on his love.  I know we are, realistically, but I don't feel that soul-crushing overwhelming longing that was there a year ago.

Because we don't need his love.  It would be nice, but it's not a necessity.

We have God's love, first and foremost, and because of His love, we are loved deeply by many others.  It's obvious to me that we are loved more deeply by others in our lives than we could be by him at this point anyway.  My children are lacking their dad, but they're not lacking their Father's love; they're not lacking love at all.  Today, they were surrounded by love, like they are every day.

Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, to me, are especially important emotional holidays.  They flood my heart with appreciation for God, family, friends, love, memories, laughter, and companionship.

For the last 15 years, up until this year, a huge portion of all of those holidays were invested in him- even the last two, when we was sort of here and then not here at all.

This year, that chain is broken.

This year, I see so much more clearly the love that we are showered with.  I saw it last year through clouded lenses.  This year, it's more real.

I can see so much more clearly this year that I am not alone.  I wondered a few days ago, while the enemy was after my mind, that I would be alone eternally, spending holidays without adult cameraderie, huddled up with my children, forgotten by the world, because I was just a pity case or that people were sick of the burden I am, wishing for interaction aside from only children (I know that sounds horrible, and I love my children dearly, so please don't assume I hate spending time with them).

But that's just crazy. I have family, and friends that are family, and friends beyond that who love us so much.

I am not alone.  We are not alone.  And God wouldn't allow us to go through this life alone anyway.  I get reminded of that on the regular.  Sometimes, I just get in my own way of seeing it.

Thank you to the many friends and family who have sent me messages of love, empowerment, gratitude, prayer, and blessings.  Your love is deeply felt and appreciated more than I find myself able to express at this time.

I think...

I think about that last day, a year go.  The sky was cloudy. The wind was blowing. You were in yellow.  The kids were anxiously excited. They hadn't seen you in many days. Their laughter rose over the rustling leaves as they squealed your name and ran to you, jumping into your arms.

You followed them around, playing occasionally on the park equipment.

 After 40 minutes or so, you asked briefly about your daughter's hospitalization the week before. After another twenty minutes, you declared you had stuff to do and had to leave. 

The laughter subsided and smiles faded. The kids all protested as we walked them to the van. You helped buckle them into their seat belts after giving them a hug. You told them you loved them, and you would see them soon. You promised to call your oldest son the next day, and planned to see them after the holiday weekend. 

I closed the van doors. They cried. They didn't want you to go. They missed you so deeply already. My heart ached for them as you drove away.

They never heard from you again.

I have been thinking about that day, the last times, frequently throughout this past week. I think of their joy and subsequent sadness. I think of your lies and broken promises. I wonder how much truth was in your salutations and hugs. 

I think about the days that followed. I think about how our son waited around for you to call. I think about how he asked me over and over to call you, and call you again, and you wouldn't answer. I think about the fury burning in my heart as you silenced the last calls and I told him daddy didn't want to talk today. I think about the next two days before you text me the last time. I think about how I asked you why you didn't call or answer and your response was an illegitimate non-answer, and when I pointed that out, you never corresponded with me again. 

I think about how I tried so very hard for the next few days, and weeks, and months to get answers. I tried to find meaning. I longed for even a stupid excuse. I tried to help your children find you and tried to foster a relationship between you and them.  

I think about all of the "I don't see daddy anywheres" I heard, or the "I miss my daddy" cries, or the "where'd daddy go" questions. I think about how I had to explain to our daughter who the man in the pictures was and how he had no idea what I was talking about, and decided to just call you Jake instead.

I think about all the cries at night. I think about all the prayers that we have said for you.  I think about the hours of therapy our sons have undergone trying to make sense of your absence.  I think about all the anger and sadness and frustration that they have and how they take it out on me, because I'm the constant in their lives, I'm their safe zone.

I think about how they used to say you were lost or missing, and how in the last week and a half, our oldest has realized that you're not just lost.  He has told me that his daddy ran away.  He knows it was a choice.

I think about how much I have struggled knowing you chose to leave.  I used to sit and doubt myself, my sanity, my mothering, my friendship, my love.  I used to think how much easier it would have been if your disappearance hadn't been a choice that you made, but just a circumstance of life or some other means, because a choice feels like abandonment, like being tossed into a dumpster, then crumpled and burned before buried in a landfill.  I think about how I am an adult and I can hardly wrap my mind or heart around it, and how our children are too young to comprehend as well as I do, knowing full well even I don't really comprehend.  It slays my heart to know they're going to question themselves and doubt and wonder why they weren't good enough for you to stay  or to even send a birthday card.  I pray that a miracle will prevent it, but mentally brace myself for what feels like the inevitable.

I think about how much I loved you, how I still house some love for you, and how badly I wish I could run you over with a piece of farm machinery, knowing full well that is completely an unGodly thought, and knowing it wouldn't really solve anything anyway.

I think about how I want to see your face.  I think about how I want to get answers.  I think about how your answers would probably be non-answers anyway, or lies that I would have to try to decode again, and how I know that maybe it's better that I can't ask you questions because the agony of trying to trust your answers would wring my heart dry.

I think about how I want to forgive you, and how often I feel like I have forgiven you, and other times I realize there's more I haven't dealt with that I need to deal with in order to forgive each piece.

I think about how people I know run into you, and tell me they run into you, and how you act like nothing is out of the ordinary and everything is normal.  I think about how not once in a year have we ran into you.   I think about how you were literally blocks away from our children last night and had absolutely no idea.  I think about what would have happened if you knew that or even cared about it enough to see them again.

I think about how much I wish you could see them now, but how much I do not want them to see you.

I think about all the lies you've spread about me. I think about your boyfriend and how he claims you tell him I'm a great woman, and our kids are amazing, and I think about how he was so excited to spend time with your children.  I think about people telling me you're both good guys, but how I know that can't be true if you can abandon and he can support it.  I think about the lies that have been told about me or are told about me, and the lies others believe about the situation.  I think about the webs you're still weaving and the messes you're still making.

I think about all the effort I spent trying to find you to divorce you, and all the effort I still have to spend in order to either find you again so that the state can force you to pay all the support you owe, or how I have to work my butt off to make ends meet all on my own indefinitely.

I think about all the ways, the words, the time you spent trying and often making me believe this all my fault, like I had this intense power I had no idea about while I felt crippled by weakness.

I think about how you walking away and shattering our lives and pulverizing my heart brought me closer to God, and how God brought such dear friends and supports into my life that I had never imagine I would find.  I think about all of these people who care so much for and love us all so much when for months I thought we must be completely unlovable.  I think about how your absense has given me freedom to gain mental clarity and personal strength and control.

I think about all that you've taken away, but I think about all that we have gained.

I think a lot.

I still think about you. 

Great Blessings

 I'm sure each of you has heard countless analogies and metaphors about friendships and what a true friend is.  True friends are like diamonds, true friends are like stars, true friends are like mornings, true friends are like angels, true friends are like a high school algebra word problem on the homework you almost forgot to do last night before bed...  So forth and so on.  Yes?  I know that I have.   

There are so many inspirational quotes that tell you how to be a good friend or what a good friend looks like.  If you're looking for some sort of wall art or a nice little closing to a greeting card to let someone know you care, you don't have to look much further than an internet search and you have thousands of sayings to choose from, from Oscar Wilde to Winnie-the-Pooh.

What makes a good friend, I suppose, is in some ways, subjective.  You may think a good friend is one who will give you the answers to your psychology homework, or maybe you think a good friend is one who will help you change a tire when you have a flat.  Perhaps your best friend lets you borrow her dresses or your books.  Whatever you think makes a good friend, I would hope that you have someone in your life who fits that bill.

I have been richly blessed with friendships in my life.  I say that not to brag, but as a reflection after a wonderful, laid back day with my college roommate, one of my best friends in the world, after a year or so of not being in the same room together.  She is one of my "lifelong" friends.  I met her 14 years ago, nearly, and despite the fact that we can go a year without seeing each other or weeks without texting, when it comes down to it, I know she's there and she has been and will be through thick and thin.

But, I am so enormously spoiled that I know it doesn't stop there.  I have a friend from my childhood that I moved next door to in 1991, and she is still one of my dearest friends.  I have friends that I met as an adult that are equally important and wonderful to me.  Some I see nearly weekly, others less frequently, but their love for me and my family is immeasurable, and I am reminded of it often.  I have met friends through my job of 18 months that are some of my closest friends in this life.  I have friends that I only know through the internet and have for over a decade that I consider my some of my very best as well.

And I have blood family that are some of my best friends.

Growing up, I know a best friend could change day to day, depending on whether you like the same boy band, book, color, food... you name it.  Friendships seemed easier to come by and somewhat more trivial as a child.  You broke up and made up more times than you can count, I'm sure.

As an adult, it seems much more difficult to find true, dear friends that you trust with your deepest secrets and your most broken bits of heart.  

Somehow, though, I have this amazing group of best friends.  I can't choose just one best friend like I could as a little girl. I have a handful.  God has blessed me so richly.  He's given me women all over the country who I could reach out to in an instant and they're there for me, emotionally, physically, spiritually, and so much more.  It's an invaluable blessing, when I so often find myself feeling overwhelmed and lonely, living this life of a single parent with such young children.  It's something truly special to have a select group of friends who can read through the lines of a text message and know when you're not really doing as okay as you claim, or that can almost read your heart as soon as you enter a room, even if there's a smile on your face.

I have known this for quite some time, but it seems that as I grow older and as I have gone through so much in the past few years, losing the one who meant the most to me, I see these friendships more clearly and with so much more value and gratitude.  These people chose to stand beside me and stay with me even when the one who promised to stay forever walked right out. They have seen me at my best and my worst and they love me through it all.

I've been told many times that God knows what he is doing.  It's true.  Even when it's hard to trust him, especially knowing that, although he has reasons for what He is doing, you don't always get to know on this side of life.

I'm so thankful to my very best friends for all they bring into my life.  But I am thankful also for each one of my friends, not only the best ones, because the prayers and love that I've been showered with, from friends near and far, old and new, have helped shape me into the woman I am today.

I pray that my own children are equally blessed in their lives, and that each of you are as well.

Breathe. Overcome.

Overcome, overcame, overcomer... this is a trio of words that two friends consistently call me, or refer to as my words.  I hear them say this, I feel where they're coming from, but I don't always see it or feel it as truth.  

Here's a little story of the last 18 hours or so, and how I went from feeling defeated and overwhelmed to realizing that I really am an overcomer.  I apologize in advance if at the end it really was hard to follow or see the point.  But, I just need to type.

I never really chose these words as "mine" but they keep coming back again and again.  Now, yes, I have a relationship with God, but as many, I often have times hearing what he's trying to say to me.

I wrote recently about doorways, and how I'm closing one door from the manipulative marriage I was in, and moving forward to whatever is beyond the next door.   I have been through fires and trials, and somehow, I'm still able, most days, to laugh, smile, and relish in the many joys that God bestows upon me.  

Some days, though, I still falter.  I grapple with negative thoughts, fears, and worries.

This past week was a week filled with the grappling.  I've stayed up late mulling over the what-ifs and fearing what may or may not come in the future.  It's been EXHAUSTING.  I had a beautiful reprieve yesterday when I was able to spend a few hours with some long-time friends, allowing my children to play with theirs, and to voice some of these issues and talk through them without children in ear shot.

But for some reason, when I left their house last night and my children fell asleep in the van, they came flooding back, more intense than before.  Fears like... "if I were to die on a weekend, how long would it be before someone was wondering where I was, and how long would my children remain scared, hungry, tired, and alone."   

Now, this fear has plagued me since I first had a baby, and my husband worked overnights.  It would fall into the background from time to time, but it's always been there.  

When I finally returned home, the children were all still asleep, and I had a text from one of my friends who speaks "overcome" to me.  She was asking how I was, and my fingers flew across the keypad on my phone as I emptied my heart to her again.

I had been only half-clinging to God throughout the week, and more clinging to myself, my mind, my strength, my fears.  I knew it even if I couldn't say it.  But, then God reached out and grabbed me, and brought me back to Him.

She called, I didn't answer the first time, but she called again, and I laid down my pride and I answered.  She talked with me, let me cry, and prayed with me.  When she was done, a song I cling to that comes to me often at the perfect time, started on the van radio.  It was the first song I think I heard the entire drive home.  

"Lord, I need you.  Every hour I need you.  My one defense- my righteousness..."  It hit me, as it always does, like he was calling out to me to call out to Him.

She suggested I listen to one specific song when I got home.  I never got to it, unfortunately, because the three children all woke up very upset, and I went through and extensive bedtime routine before getting them to sleep.  At that point, I opened my Bible, which I have admittedly neglected this week, and began reading where I left off.

I laughed to myself as I realized God was showing me what just happened in the van, (as it has many times before) and how it's been His plan for me all along to have that sort of thing happen when I need it most.  As my friend says frequently, I'm not meant to go at it alone, after all.  It happens when I start feeling like I'm crumbling, I find a friend or two that build me up.   I sat there, amazed, though I shouldn't have been, I'm sure, by the verse.  I prayed then that I could be that person for someone else who may need it.  I still pray that.  I've always prayed that, actually.

I digress.  I then began apologizing to God for not trusting Him through the week and worrying so much about things I can't control, that He has under control, and things I can't begin to work on yet while I'm still before the next door in my journey.  I felt a sense of relief, and started sobbing. 

God often speaks to me through music, and right before my friend text me to check on me, I started humming a melody.  It took me only a few moments before I realized what song I was singing.  It's an old favorite called "Breathe on Me" by Jennifer Knapp.

The key lyrics that came to my mind were:

No temptation seize a man that he can't overcome.

Who am I to be fallen?

Crack your back on a slab of wood

come freedom, nail it down, I come crawling

I come crawling.

Come trickle down and save the world

two hands that I can't see

come breathe, come breathe, come breathe on me.

Split rib water, blood and bone,

come now, come Calvary.

Come breathe, come breathe on me.

Testimony come now quickly, whisper in my ear

Celebration

Peace at last not far away, 

empty sheet, a borrowed grave

Salvation

Come freedom come.

Exhausted, I fell asleep on the couch.

This morning, when I woke up to Norah in my bed, stealing my covers, I realized she had slept better last night, than she had in weeks.  She only woke up once (yes, she still sleeps like a newborn).   I went to church, excited as I am every Sunday for that last 8 or so months.

Two songs brought me to tears.  The first was the song that my friend suggested I listen to last night but never did, "Great Are you Lord," by All Sons and Daughters.

She even quoted it to me last night, "It's Your breath in my lungs."  Another breath related word.  Breathe is another message I find myself getting often because I really forget to breathe in the right air sometimes.  

The second song, talked was "No Longer Slaves" by Bethel Music.

You unravel me with a melody,

you surround me with a song

of deliverance from my enemies

til all my fears are gone.

I'm no longer a slave to fear,

I am a child of God.

As I mentioned, I have been dwelling on fears.  Last night, when we prayed, we prayed that be broken.  And here it was, again.  That, and the first line... that's totally me.  I already mentioned that also, God speaks to me through song quite often.  I find he speaks to me through song, through a few close friends especially, and through the Bible readings when I get over myself and my need to do other things with my time and sit down and read it.  I'm working on it.

Today, the message was about overcoming offenses.  I immediately flashed back to a book, "The Bait of Satan" that I had borrowed from my friend and read a few months ago. When I read that book, I felt such a release.  I forgave and moved on from offenses I had been holding onto at the time.  It was such a blessing.

I had said to my friend last night that I wasn't sure what else was burdening me, and we prayed I would see it so I could release it.

Well, there it was.  As soon as I saw the title of the sermon I knew.  I had latched on to new offenses since then, and I needed to overcome them.  A fresh freedom is what I needed.

So, I listened, reflected on the book and the message.  And when the pastor prayed, I released again.  I still need to work, I will admit, because some offenses run deeply. But, I truthfully don't want to hold onto them.  So, I'm working and praying on it in the days ahead.

He mentioned this verse:

This verse, for a few months, has been the screen lock on my phone.  "I have overcome the world."  I see it daily.  Today, I realized I have been seeing it, but I haven't been really reading it.

After church, my other friend said to me again, something along the lines of "how'd you like that?  It was your word again."

It was. 

I sit here, this afternoon, my children with their aunt and uncle a few hours so I can clear some of the clutter from our apartment, and I feel much lighter, not totally.  I still need to figure out what else is burdening my heart and work through it.  But, I'm sitting here with clearer mind, again, seeing my words.

Overcome.  Breathe.

I can do both.  I have done both.  God's done the overcoming for me and He's the air I breathe. 

And my weary heart is going to be okay.

More than a job.

Today is my work anniversary!

One year ago today, I started a job. Despite someone complaining to me how stupid it was for me to get a job (even though at the time we were without our own home and I was without him helping provide for three kids), I began working at a daycare.

When I got the job, I needed a job. I would have taken almost any job that paid me enough to account for daycare and bring home some income so we could find a place of our own. It was s rough month trying to find a job before I was hired.

From the beginning I thought this job was a God thing. I had interviewed for other positions and not heard back from most, and at a visit with a friend was telling her of my search. She told me about this daycare she worked at once upon a time and loved, so right then I searched it up and sent an email. I received a reply that there were no openings, but that they would keep me in mind for the future.

Later that day, or perhaps the next morning, I forget, I had s follow up email that there was an opening, and that the director would like to meet me. Days later, I interviewed and was offered the job. There was room for all of my kids to attend, too! It happened so quickly and perfectly that I knew it was God.

As I have expressed to my dear friend turned sister (by heart), when I started, I had no intention of really getting close to my coworkers, and especially letting any of them know how messy my life was at the time. I put up a front that all was okay, which was easier because at the time my husband was (begrudgingly on his end) my ride to work every day (except the random days he wouldn't show up to get us and I couldn't get ahold of him, and there were a few. Thank you to those dear friends who helped out on those days...) so everything seemed fairly normal. Especially because he's a charmer.

Eventually, and it didn't take long, I began really loving my job, the daycare, and my coworkers. It pained me so much, like an anvil on my shoulders and chest, to keep the secret of my life falling apart, but I was terrified they would all hate me when they realized I had been hiding. 

I made it through Christmas, had moved the kids to the homeless shelter and then to the transitional housing, and no one at work had a clue.  But one evening, I couldn't hold the secret anymore, and I poured it all out to my aforementioned friend. I felt so embarrassed and ashamed. She called me and I cried (for the first of many times) to her. And she told me it was a God thing that I was there and had opened up to her. That God had me at the daycare and the room I was in for a reason.

It's the truth. I've seen it over and over again. I learned the dark secrets of my husbands abandonment, but I didn't have to carry that load alone. I now had a confidante that I saw almost every day. And I gained more friends and relationships with other colleagues after I opened up. I was finally able to admit to my childrens' teachers what was going on, and how very much I appreciated the love and stability they provided my children in their topsy-turvy lives. They finally had an understanding of some of my kids' behaviors and emotional days. 

I eventually was able to have a vehicle of my own, which meant the kids rarely saw their dad. Eventually, he disappeared all together. But my work family supported all of us as we watched him slip away and replace us with his boyfriend and darker, new life. 

And when the day came that the kids and I found our new home, I was here, and my work family rejoiced with me. Many even helped while moving, either helping pack and haul, or watching my little girl so I could take care of things (the boys were on vacation with my family at the time). 

I have found out the majority of all the heavy news and information while inside these walls. I've never been alone though. 

My job is so much more than a job to me. It provides financially so my children and I can have a home again, among other things, but it provides so much more.

It provides a another branch of family when mine is far away. It brought me meaningful friendships, filled with support and encouragement, laughter and tears. It gives me adult interaction that I lack when I'm home with three young children by myself.  It's helped me feel like I can accomplish things again. It's been a sense of security. I have found such joy here. I've started to find myself again. I feel loved here, and I feel that my children are all loved here as well. There have been so many big and little things that are marked in my heart.

And... It's brought me to a place closer to God than I think I have ever been. I go to church here now, too, and my children Sunday School. Yes, I still struggle occasionally, feeling so very far away, but I can call on God, a friend, work, or church, and get through.  

It's been a year since I stepped foot into this job, and I am 365 days and millions of steps away from the woman I was when I started.

It's a God thing.

Thank you to all of my dear coworkers, my friends, my work family, for all that you've done over the year. You may not see what I see, but the blessings are endless, and each of you is a treasure.

I know that as childcare workers, we do not make a lot financially. However, we make a difference in lives. We bring love and stability to the children we see daily. But you also made a difference in mine.

In Thanks

I cannot seem to fall asleep, for my mind is reeling. I have prayed, and yet feel compelled to write. 

As it is past midnight, it is now Thanksgiving Day. 

I have had conflicting emotions leading up to today for quite some time now. It's the first major holiday where the kids and I are without their dad. Earlier today, I was having flashbacks to last year, and how wretched it started, and suddenly, for a while, I didn't miss him anymore. I prayed that my children don't remember times like those, and was thankful that this year we will not experience a beginning of the day like that. 

But, still, I go back and forth.  

Last Sunday, in church, our pastor spoke on being intentionally thankful. 

We were challenged under the call of this verse (pictured above) to be thankful in all circumstances, for even in the worst, there's something to give thanks for. We were challenged to make a list of 100 things we are thankful for (this is my evening project later today), but to also practice intentional thankfulness for 40 days (up to the new year).

As I wrote a few days ago, I have been walking through a valley. Knowing that, I gladly accepted this challenge. I am now four days in, and I already feel a shift. I am not on a peak yet, but I am getting there.

This year, through the sadness and heartache and the lingering fear that I may burst into tears at a friends house over dinner, I know I have much to be thankful for in this valley. 

I am thankful for the valley, for I know that in the valleys, we draw nearer to God. We are humbled and broken and rebuilt in strength, hope, and faith. We grow in patience. We become resilient. 

I am thankful for our neediness. Yes, it is a struggle to live paycheck to paycheck, with sick children keeping me from work many days, but in our neediness, I find true friendships, humility again, and the boundless grace of God's provision.

I am thankful for sadness, as it reminds me that my heart has not become calloused, and I can still love and care deeply.

I am thankful for exhaustion, because it's a reminder that I have three children who love and need me enough at all hours of the day, and that I have a job to provide for these children.  Consequently, I am thankful for sleep, even if it's only a couple hours at a time. 

I am thankful for struggles. They are showing me my strength, and showing me God's never-failing love and companionship, and He keeps reminding me of these things, often through the words of others, because sometimes I just can't hear His voice on my own.

I am thankful for this continued and recently increased wrist pain, as it reminds me to take it easy on myself sometimes, and that it is okay to relax. It also has taught me resourcefulness and ingenuity.

I am thankful for this lingering fever, because it's a sign my body is still doing its job to fight off the many illnesses I come in contact with throughout the week, and that I am fortunate that nothing has taken me down.

I am thankful for the huge mess the children have strewn throughout the apartment, as it is evidence that they have enough clothing to keep them warm, and a vast collection of treasured items they are excited to play with day after day.

I am excited for a slippery wet, flooded bathroom floor. It shows me that I have taken control of utilities myself and we have warm, running water every day for the kids to splash around in.

I am thankful for stubborn children and mischief, because they keep me growing, learning, and they are mine, even though I was told I may never have them.

I am thankful for more "typical" things too, of course.

But this year, I feel like they hear more weight than years before. I'm thankful for a home, knowing now what it was like to be without one. I am thankful for food and the ability to feed my children. I am thankful for a job, even though it meant giving up my life of staying home raising my children. I am thankful for friendships, while some have faded away, others have strengthened, and new, beautiful blessed ones have formed.

I am thankful for family, both blood family and "adopted" family. Family has anyways bean important to me and this past year has been rough on some levels. There have been family I  thought would always be there regardless who have faded off to the distance, but the majority, especially my mom(s), sisters, and brothers, have poured out their love in countless ways. 

I could go on and on, I know.

I am thankful. I am blessed.

I hope you all can see the same is true for your own lives.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Not-so-secret Admirer

Last weekend, in random passing conversation, I heard someone tell her nephew that when she was growing up, she admired another little girl and wanted to be very much like her.

Tonight, on the way home from a day trip to my aunt's house, that same person, my cousin, told me the same thing, again, with a little more detail.

My cousin, Tarah, one if my best friends post-high school, my "Bean," told me something she had never told me before.

She told me that when we were little girls, she admired me. That she pretty much always has. That she wanted to be like me growing up. That it was a big deal and honor to be able to hang out with me in my room. That she played the clarinet in the school band... because I played the clarinet in the school band.

I never knew these things.

Growing up, we played together, loved each other, and were friends for many years. She's about 2.5 years younger than me, but it didn't matter. My cousins were some of my best friends. There were a few years that we weren't close, due to distance and some other issues, but then in college, we found each other again.

We found similarities in interests, life events, activities, passions, etc.

We became best friends.

We realized we are, in many ways, very much like each other. So much alike on ways, that we joked once to her mom over the phone "it's like we were spawn from the same being."

Yes, we used that particular phrase... because we are cool like that.

Her mom replied something to the effect of, "what do you mean you were spun from the same bean?!"

Oh, how we laughed.

And then, we got matching spinning bean tattoos.

Talking tonight, hearing her tell me those words... filled me with gratitude, joy, awkward embarrassment, a sense of awe, a paradoxical combination of humility and ego boost, and also reciprocity.

I think I was so blown away with the comment that I didn't tell her that I admire her too. I don't genuinely feel that I'm that admirable, and certainly don't see myself as such, but goodness, it felt absolutely magnificent to hear it. I felt (and still feel in the regular) like a socially awkward nerd.

I truthfully may not have wanted to be just like her growing up, partially because I was older... but there were things I admired about her all along. I always thought she was beautiful, funny, smart, strong, and brave.

And she still is. And I still admire her for those reasons, among others. She perseveres. She's a hard worker. She's compassionate. She's outgoing.

She's pretty spectacular. I'm lucky to have her.

So, in case I didn't say it aloud to you in the truck tonight...

Tarah, I admire you, too. Love you, Bean.

Thank you.

The Abominable Ice Storm/Treepocalypse

The past few days have been somewhat surreal, in my opinion.

South Dakota has been smacked with a strange winter storm. It's like one I do not remember experiencing and it seems to have wreaked more havoc on the city than any storm I've experienced.

To make it even more absurd... I don't think it really even felt like a winter storm.

Normally, when I hear or experience a winter storm, I think blizzard. Lots if snow and high winds and sub-zero temps, and white out conditions.

This ice storm, in my limited experience (as in from inside the house), was more like a gentle rain.

Except it seemed to freeze as soon as it hit anything.

So... Every little inch of world seemed to be encased in inches of ice by Wednesday, which was pretty, but kind of creepy. You would go out and look around the neighborhood to see tons of trees had lost branches the size of small trees. This was in every yard as far as I could see.

I actually watched a tree branch fall a split second after a moving car passed under it. Nearly hit it in motion.

I watched three branches fall in neighbor yards, and watched one snap from our tree and land on the suburban. Thankfully, the beast, 'Burbie, is tough and nothing happened to it really.

As all this happened, power was going out all over town. When I called this morning to hear the update, 420 workers from four states were here trying to repair damage and restore power, and approximately 90,000 had been affected. Though, they are down to about 15,000 only (haha) being without power now.

Unfortunately, sometime before I woke yesterday morning, our house had joined the ranks of the power-less. We held out until about 3pm when it was 59 degrees and Jake had to work. Then, bless her heart, Jenn welcomed us all into her family's home.

The storm has ripped the power line away from the back of our house though. It's still connected, but dangling. So, when I called in yesterday to report the loss of power and the dangling line, they said they'd send someone to check it out. At that point they were hoping power would be restored at 11pm last night. Unfortunately, that was not the case for us.

Not only that, but we were told our house is a big fire risk with the line as-is and not to be there until they've repaired it. They said they would try to have that done by noon today.

That still doesn't mean the power will be on. This morning's automated update from the electric company states they hope to have it restored by tonight but will still be working on individual problems through tomorrow.

We are fortunate, really, for a few reasons. The first in that we held out until Thursday to lose our power. The second, that while there was power in the dangling line, our house didn't burst into flames. Third, no huge branches have fallen onto our house at this point, and I'm hoping it remains that way. And fourth, that we had a few options as to warm homes, and even though Jenn is incredibly busy working (she is a WAHM for Butterfly Designs- search it up on Facebook- she's amazing), that she opened up her home to us yesterday, not really knowing how long we might end up being without power, has helped provide food and drink for me and the boys because we didn't being ours not knowing we would be here this long, and for giving us a warm place to sleep last night, and still be yet this morning. We are incredibly thankful.

I'm hoping to be back home by tonight. Not that I don't love Jenn and her family, but it's always hard being away from home unexpectedly, and I think everyone is feeling that way a little bit, and I know that it's equally hard having people crash your home unexpectedly, too. Thank God for patience, grace, compassion, and understanding, right?

Here are a few photos from around my house/neighbors from Wednesday and Thursday. I've seen more on Instagram and Facebook also. When we drove over here yesterday, it was so... surreal, to see trees down everywhere, or huge trees broken in half right down the center with half standing and half laying down, and others bent over looking like giant umbrellas. I told Jake that I've never seen such sad looking trees.

A Box of Love

November is the month of Thanksgiving, officially.  On Facebook, I'm participating, as are many others, in the 30 days of Thankfulness movement where you state something once a day, in a status, that you are thankful for.    I've so far, covered the basics, my sons, my husband, and my family and friends

But, today, I received a surprise.  Well, sort of. I was forewarned by my friend Ang that I would be getting a package in the mail.  I didn't think much of it, or tried not to, and just be surprised when it arrived.  Well, surprise number one was that it was a day late.  No big deal.

I feel like this post is going to be a bit... of  jumbled mess.  I'm going to back track first.

Way back when... years ago... I forget how many years ago, but a long time ago, in high school, I joined an online blogging site: Kiwibox.    There, I really entered into online journaling and in the process, made quite a few friends that I still am friends with this day.   So, over ten years ago, I met a great group of girls, now women.  After Kiwibox was starting to go... downhill, or really, we got old enough to think it was getting lame, we moved onto message board communities.  One of my friends and I decided to purchase a domain and run our own.  I forget, right offhand, how long we ran Bijouxmb, but it was quite a while.   Another message board, a sister site, almost, was born as well, Quarantine, run by a few of our friends.  For quite a long time, friendships formed, lives were shared, and we became close.   Now, I will admit, when we decided to let Bijouxmb die, and I was pregnant with Spencer, I stopped frequenting the boards.  Facebook was bigger and easier and it just sort of replaced it for me.  But, these women have since and always will had/have a place in my heart.

That said, confession time:  After Collin's birth, we realized that Jake's new job, the one he took at the beginning of the summer to better our financial future as well as provide more family time, wasn't going... as hoped.  It really wasn't working out for us.  We have an old suburban as our vehicle after our van went kaput and it would cost nearly as much to fix as it did to buy it.  The suburban is a gas hog, and was eating away his income, really, from this new job.   As of October, as sad as I feel admitting this, we've been really struggling, as Jake has been unemployed.  It has been quite a struggle.  We've been pretty stressed about finances and everything related to it.  We've dabbled between who should get the full time job.  Currently, we're trying to find Jake one.  When we only have one vehicle, it makes it a challenge.   And if we both work and were to work same shifts then we'd have to put the boys in daycare, which we just don't want.  We're praying about it, and hope others can do the same.

In the meantime, we're doing what we can to get by. We've disconnected our internet, since it barely worked anyway being a cheap wireless type thing.  We no longer have our smartphones and are doing a month-to-month pre-paid service on cheap flip phones.   We don't go out, we can't really.  We've been very blessed to have family and friends helping to look out for us, as embarrassed as I feel admitting that.  Our church, too.  I go through days where I am very upset and pessimistic about it all, an other days where I feel very hopeful.  Jake has had a few interviews, and the most recent ones went very well, he believes, so we're waiting to hear.  I know things will change, and I know we will be okay.  But, it's not easy to feel that way always.

I made the 'gutsy' move to tell a few friends about the situation in October.  I didn't want to, but I was tired of being silently stressed and not knowing where to turn to cry and express my fears.  I felt better knowing there were others out there praying and thinking of us and keeping my head above water emotionally.

Well, I didn't know that one of these friends was a blabbermouth.  Haha.  I mean this in a good way.   One of these friends, Ang, let my "secret" out to Q, the aforementioned message board (that I didn't own and run).  I really had no idea, until today.  

Today, this big, heavy box appeared on my doorstep.  "For the love of Q!"

Right away, I was... well, I was nervous to open it, honestly, because Ang wanted Jake to take a video... and I was afraid I wouldn't have a "proper" reaction to whatever was inside.

If the reaction she was looking for was to cry, well, then I had the proper one. Haha.

Inside was various items, mostly clothes for Spencer.  Warm clothes that are the right size for him this winter.  TONS of them.  There were pacifiers for Collin, and a chew toy for him too.  Haha, that makes him sound like a puppy.  There were a few gift cards.  One, I will donate for gas for Jake to go to job interviews.   One was for Starbucks, which gave me a "reason" to get out of the house, which I truthfully, really needed after a few emotional breakdowns this week, where I am now, blogging, using my cousin's laptop and the free wi-fi.  There were a few nail polishes for me, which made me very excited, because lately, I've been really into painting them.  It keeps me not only from chewing them due to stress and nerves, but also keeps them from breaking and hides my ugly nail that I crushed in a garage door this summer.  There was a candy bar and some gum.  There were a few notes.

The part that started my tears, of course, was the letter Ang included.  In summary, she wrote that there is a belief out there that way you do, or contribute in life, multiplies three-fold and comes back to you.   So, if you're nasty, three times worse might head your way.   In her opinion, and apparently that of a few of my other friends from afar, is that I've been "good."  I've been caring, despite circumstances right now, and I guess I have been that way for a while.  I guess, they think I have a big heart.

It's funny to me to think that I had organized care packages for others during hard times in their lives, all in the same fashion, via our message board communities.  Truthfully, I don't remember how many I orchestrated or helped orchestrate.  Two at least, maybe more.  It just... didn't stick with me, I guess.   I just did it and lived on without thinking twice.  I never in a million years expected something to come my way like this.  Not once.  I don't feel like I deserve it.   Of course, I am grateful beyond adequate verbal expression, thinking about how much my son benefits from their generosity and hearts of gold, as he grows out of the clothes we have for him.

I think what shocked me most about receiving it, though, is the fact that I haven't really been an active part of that message board in over two years.  I am  not a daily part of their lives anymore, and somehow, they still care.  I guess that shows something negative about me, really, because I know that even though I don't interact often, I still think of them often and wish them all well.  I guess, I really shouldn't have expected anything less from them.  I apologize that I somehow did.  I am truly, truly sorry if I doubt anyone.  Truly.

It's true, sometimes, I feel like I'm a good friend.  More often than not, I am more critical of myself, though.  I feel like I can't give enough or do enough for others, especially now.  I guess, really, it doesn't always matter if I can give monetarily or concrete items.   I know I pray, and I send regards, love, warm thoughts, when I can, regardless.  It took their box of love to remind me that those things count too.

My mind is scattered all over again, so I think I'll (finally, I suppose) stop this post.

Thank you, to anyone and everyone for any small or large thing you've done for me and my family, recently, or in the past.  I can assure you, it does not go unnoticed, and I hope that, as the belief I mentioned earlier goes, it comes back to you, threefold, or more.