Sob Stories or Testimony? You Decide.

One of the biggest differences between my current life and life a mere year ago is the financial aspect of things.  (I know I addressed this in an earlier blog, but that writing was basically from the perspective of fear of the unknown and this time I feel I am writing a bit more from experience and with reflection so please bear with me.)  The fact of the matter is I cannot stand to live my life in survival mode, watch my children hurting, give up all we’ve given up and not at least try to have something good come from it.  Something that can help someone in some way.  Maybe me, but maybe not.  Something that rings true for someone, helps them see things from a different perspective, and hopefully something that illuminates the evidence of God in the most unlikely of places so that when someone else is surrounded by trouble they will remember His faithfulness.

So here I am, stuck between the proverbial rock and hard place.  Do I share details of our life and risk having them labeled as "sob stories" or do I keep everything private?  Do I put on a smile and pretend everything is fine or do I allow people to see the hard stuff and the struggles and give testimony to God's interventions?

If you are reading this you probably already know that I have chosen to share details, to a degree, about certain aspects of my life, but you should also know that I have an ulterior motive.  No, I'm not trying to characterize myself as needy or solicit your pity.  I’m not trying to make anyone feel sorry for me or beg for presents.  (No, not even chocolate..)  I’m not trying to be a martyr, get people’s attention or even trick people into saying how strong or how brave I am.  Honestly, I don’t share for any of those reasons.  And truth be told, on the occasion that someone does respond to me in any of those ways I really don’t know how to respond to them.

My honest to goodness, completely legitimate, reason for sharing where we are, what we do, or what we do or do not have is merely so people have a reference point for when God does something amazing and I want to share my excitement and witness to His goodness.  You see, God is good.  Really good.  Beyond believable good.  Great.  Marvelous.  Absolutely FANTASTIC.  And no matter how messed up I am, how sad I feel, how frustrated I get, how scared I can be, how much I worry about my kids, or how limited my view of the future, God doesn’t change.  He is the I AM.  The Risen Savior.  The Prince of Peace.  The Mighty God.  The Everlasting Father.  In a world of doubt and unknowns, He is unchanging.  Unflappable.  Unfailing.  And Unshaken.   As my big girls say every night at bedtime, “He holds us in His hand, He never lets us go, and He NEVER breaks His promises.”  He is the real deal, and He deserves to be praised for all that He does.  And that is why I share.

Honestly, how cool would you think it was that my laundry detergent still has not run out if you didn’t know how many crappy things I’ve dealt with in the past six months?  How excited would you be that someone bought all of my children new shoes if you didn’t know I would have had to pull money from my savings account to do it myself?  How big of a blessing would you think the mailman delivering a box of chocolate was if you didn’t know that my budget expects me to take money from that same savings account at the end of each month just to keep milk and fresh fruit in the house?  You see, events that would otherwise seem trivial or mundane take on a completely different meaning when you put them into perspective.

Recently I was criticized for posting on Facebook that someone had “blessed” my family with tickets to Sea World.  I am sorry if such a gift seemed frivolous or if my public posting about it gave the impression that I am somehow looking for others to give me “stuff” or finding comfort through material gifts, but I can assure you that is not the case.  But just to clear up any confusion, let me lay out a bit of the realities for you…

My kids did not ask for this.  Any of this.  It is not their fault that adult issues have led to adult decisions which have led to life altering changes in their realities.  No, my kids do not need stuff.  They don’t need tickets to the zoo or to Sea World or dinner at a restaurant or a trip to the movies or even an outing to the ice cream store.  But they are kids.  And doing things outside of their own home is what they see as “normal” and fun.  Because they are kids.  And all of them, even Jack, experienced lots of those types of things prior to April of this year, and they simply can’t (and don’t need to) understand the complexities of why those types of things don’t happen anymore.

Now I’m not saying my kids should be concerned about keeping up with the Jones’ or should get everything they want (and I assure you they do not), but it is also a very new reality to them to not have any of those things even in the realm of possibility anymore.  And it is a very new reality to me to be unable to even consider such things.  Remember how I said my monthly budget assumes I will have to take money out of savings just to buy those last couple gallons of milk each month?  Well, guess what?  That’s not because I have budgeted what could be milk money for eating in restaurants, buying new toys, paying for ballet lessons, grabbing a latte, or taking my kids to the movies.  All that budgeted money is going to pay for things like rent, electricity, water, gasoline and a car payment.  You know, all those things that the kids don’t really appreciate we are paying for…  My kids need clothes, food, Band-Aids, toothpaste, and (eventually) even laundry soap, and those needs are what I stretch every dime to cover.  And that, my friend, is why it is such a big deal when outside forces are generous enough to help me provide the un-needs for my five kids.  

Let me give you a few examples.  In July, my brother’s family treated Jack and I to a trip to Legoland.  By coincidence (which I don’t believe in, by the way), the day we went Legoland was trading all tickets for a return trip ticket for another day.  Legoland – not in my budget.  Six free tickets for use this fall – BLESSING.  A friend of ours from Maryland provided money for my entire family to have annual passes for the San Diego Zoo and Wild Animal Park.  Tickets to the zoo – not in my budget.  Free admission to the zoo and animal park for a year – BLESSING.  An anonymous donor gave us $100 worth of Target gift cards the same week my fifth child’s shoes wore out.  New shoes for every child in the same month – not in my budget.  Replacing every worn out pair on the same day – BLESSING.  Finding a new strategy the other day to help Jack feel more secure at home regarding our food supply, I was anxious to jump right in, but being the end of the month money is tight.  Buying unexpected food supplies – not in my budget.  Having an anonymous person send me a $20 bill the same day – BLESSING.  You see, some things just have to be shared.  From the most frivolous things, like amusement park tickets, to the most necessary items, like a personal food supply for an adopted child’s security, God is providing for us in BIG ways.  And the fact that I have yet to actually delve into my savings account as expected to purchase milk is why I feel the need to brag on God so much.  The way we have covered our monthly expenses so far certainly doesn’t make sense on paper, but He is certainly providing.

And all of that is just the financial view.  I have not even approached the issues of trauma and adoption residing in my home.  You have no idea how exciting a trip to Sea World is for four little girls who regularly miss out on simple trips to the neighborhood park because their brother is processing hard things from hard places again.  Or how exciting a shopping trip to buy something for everyone is to a group of kids who go everywhere as a pack of five.  Fact is, finances aside, my kids don’t get out much due to the single-mom aspect, and they put up with way more “not for you today”s than most kids ever dream of.  Honestly, when was the last time you went grocery shopping with FIVE children under the age of 10?  Or to get someone’s haircut?  Or even to a public restroom?  There are five of them and one of me.  Where one goes, we all go.  When one cannot handle the grand scheme of an outing, they all lose out on that outing.  And for the older girls it’s even worse for in essence I have two three-year-olds (and only two hands) so whatever isn’t three-year-old appropriate, no one gets to do.  My kids love to go to the library.  They love to take walks, visit my sister’s house, play board games, and do puzzles; but they also love to get out of the neighborhood and see the world.  So, in my opinion, it would be my own failing to not share God's action in our lives and praise Him for His continuous provision.

So here is what I’m left with.  There are those who are tired of hearing my sob stories.  They think I should just “get over it” and move on already, and they really don’t understand the enormity of all that is out of kilter in my children’s lives right now.  They feel I’m unappreciative of the blessings I don’t publicize and skeptical of those I do.  They will be offended if I continue to make simple statements about needing prayer, but would be more offended if I were to publicize the down and dirty details of the actual need for those prayers.  Needless to say, with those people I will never win.  I’m damned if I do, and I’m damned if I don’t.

But then there are the rest of the people who, I believe, actually understand where I’m coming from.  The whole point is this isn’t about me.  It’s about Him.  It’s about His providence, and His caring, and His complete faithfulness to His promises to provide.  Sure, I’m not really happy right now and I could find things to complain about all day long if I chose to, but what good comes from that?  None.  Zippo. Zilch.  So why bother?  But James 1:17 states that “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”  And THAT seems far more worthwhile to spend the day talking about.  And, truly, there is no better way to appreciate just how good He is than to compare things to just how different they were before He touched them.

So, I guess this means I keep on telling my sob stories for a while.  Sorry to those who don’t like them.  I guess you will have to find some other blog to read from now on.  But for those of you who are with me in this appreciation of God's mighty hand thing, I look forward to walking along with you a bit further.  Because who knows, tomorrow might just be the day He does something even more incredible and I'm gonna want to tell someone. 

But as for me, I will sing about Your power.  Each morning I will sing with joy about Your unfailing love.  For You have been my refuge, a place of safety when I am in distress.  O my Strength, to You I sing praises, for You, O God, are my refuge, the God who shows me unfailing love.  Psalm 59:16-17

Such confidence as this is ours through Christ before God.  Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God.  2 Corinthians 3:4-5

For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for when I am weak, then I am strong.  2 Corinthians 12:10

 

Tsunamis and Head Wrapping (a.k.a. I Totally Understand if You Don’t Understand)

When my husband first told me he was leaving our family I was in complete shock.  It, and the days that immediately followed, was like an out-of-body experience.  Nothing seemed real.  My body moved, my mouth spoke, my heart continued to beat, but I was completely numb.  It was as if the neurotransmitters in my head were stuck in some sort of surreal loop trying to process something unprocessable.  I couldn’t move forward, yet I couldn’t move back, and nothing seemed to compute.

A week or so later I would describe this experience in an email as an “emotional tsunami”.  A complete drowning and upheaval of reality washing over me while I was frozen in time and helpless to act.  I stood anchored, watching the devastation occur - the walls of my life crumble around me, the future of my family wash away with the tide - all the while powerless to stop it.  A tsunami.  Nothing else came close to describing the feeling.

A few weeks later I would run across this term again.  Tsunami.  This time it came in a book I had picked up in my mad grasp for answers, Runaway Husbands by Vikki Stark.  I was shocked to learn that I was not the only one who had feelings like this.  Other women experiencing the same Shock and Awe attack on their marriages had felt it too.  As Ms. Stark defined the stages of recovery associated with sudden abandonment, the first stage on the list was TSUNAMI.  “You take the first hit when you are informed out-of-the-blue that the marriage is over.  You feel like you’re drowning and go into shock.”  (pg. 13)  This is precisely how I felt.   And as much hurt and pain as there was involved in the whole ordeal, the mere fact that I was not alone in my stupor provided a very faint glimmer of hope in a very dark place.

It is not an enemy who taunts me -
then I could bear it;
it is not an adversary who deals insolently with me -
then I could hide from him.
But it is you, my equal,
my companion, my familiar friend.
Psalm 55:12-13

It has now been over eight months since the initial waves of that tsunami rolled over me.  The flood waters have receded in many ways, but unlike in nature this tidal wave has a way of rolling in again and again as life attempts to move forward.  I survived the initial deluge, but it is still a daily battle to stay emotionally afloat and some days I need a much larger life preserver than others.   

All to say, I am not out of the water yet.   Heck, most days I can’t even catch a glimpse of the shoreline, but I am gradually getting better at treading water and the raft I am desperately building out of scriptural driftwood is slowly coming along.

But then there’s the head wrapping.  As more and more people learn of my family’s situation the response I get more often than not is, “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing.”  Now don’t feel like I just singled you out if you yourself have shared that thought with me, it is literally what I hear from most everyone in some form or another.  As people hear the timeline of events, the details of the separation, the swiftness of the whole ordeal, they simply cannot process what they are being told.  They want to take me at my word, but simply cannot image there isn’t more to the story.  Perhaps I’m putting on a self-protective spin, or leaving out details that would make me look bad.  They wonder how this could have happened without me knowing it was coming, and that’s okay.  I understand.  I get it.  The disbelief, the initial shock, the confusion and the questions.  It is the same tsunami effect… just in a lesser degree.

You see, lack of comprehension is one of the few things these days I understand.  While the initial emotional responses here resemble a tsunami, in her book Ms. Stark insightfully compares the actual series of events encountered to a sudden tornado.  “It’s as if, one minute, you’re enjoying a relaxing family picnic on a cloud-free summer day.  Ten minutes later, after the tornado hits, you’re dazed, battered and bleeding, your kids are traumatized and your life lies in shattered splinters on the ground around you.” (pg 47)  And that is the incomprehensible part - from one extreme to the other in a blink of an eye.  Unexpected news that leaves you astounded.  We were literally on our way to Disney World for a family vacation when my life was changed in an instant.  So, again, I get it.  I totally understand if you do not understand the reality of it all.  It’s okay if you can’t wrap your head around it.  I am no way claiming that I have no responsibility for the status of my marriage- I was part of a team and a partnership, but truth be told I can’t wrap my head around it either…  Nor can my children, or my family, or my closest prayer warriors… and we’ve all been watching the events unfold from the first sign of high water. 

The fact is no one understands it.  And no one can’t fix it.  You can’t make it better.  You can’t explain it away.  You can’t answer all the questions, solve all the problems, or comfort it into feeling better.  You can’t really do much of anything about it at all.  And that is okay.

The one thing you can do though is pray.  Pray for all those directly involved – my children, my husband, our extended families on both sides - and pray for the many more who have been affected by a vast ripple effect.  This situation has broken hearts and damaged relationships in my own home, but it has also done devastating damage to many peripheral relationships as well.  And sadly it has impacted hearts and minds literally around the world. 

Pray for yourself, that you can use it.  That you can grow from what I share, that you will be better for it and that the experience as you know and understand it is not wasted as a victory for Satan, but is instead used in a way that brings glory to the One who created us. 

And please, pray for me.

On page 51 of her book, Ms. Stark sets forth a frighteningly accurate description of a wife struggling through that tsunami stage.  I share a partial quote here as she describes it far better than I can.

“In this state of shock, time becomes malleable, the body feels strange and the world becomes unfamiliar.  She can’t make sense of what she’s hearing, because she can’t think straight – she’s too numb to think at all.  Her brain just can’t handle it.”

I honestly cannot tell you how my children were fed, clothed and cared for last December, January or even February.  I just don’t know.  That time period was an enormous challenge.  It literally took conscious effort just to get up and remember to breathe.  I passed through the days on rote action and prayed constantly.  I did not eat.  I did not sleep.  I spent hours searching scripture for strength and answers, and if I did manage to catch a few minutes or hours of sleep I would wake up literally already praying.  It was not uncommon for me to put food on the table (after the girls reminded me to) and then go upstairs and cry while the kids ate.  I would put the little ones down for naptime and then sit and stare into space feeling completely lost and overwhelmed.  I would drive people places, grocery shop, show up for church, take Jack to the doctor – all the things I was supposed to do – all in an impenetrable fog and always on the verge of tears.  I would come up for air long enough to beg for more prayers and then just as quickly retreat to my emotionally-numb stupor.

So, you see, I get it.  I totally understand if you don’t understand.  I get that the whole thing is overwhelming and unfamiliar and probably makes you uncomfortable.  And, again, it’s okay.  You’re off the hook.  The whole situation sucks.  It does, and there’s no nice way to say it.  Talking around the issue to protect the sensitivities of those who don’t know what to say about the big pink, elephant in the middle of the room isn’t going to do anyone any good anyway.  Reality is reality, whether we like it, choose it or approve of it and thus let’s just call a spade a spade and be done.

As you can probably tell, by the mere fact that I’ve managed to write down the words you are now reading, I have now somehow moved past that Tsunami.  It still comes rolling back in now and then, but I’ve even made progress through the Tornado where “your thoughts are spinning wildly as you try to come up with some desperate plan to make this not be happening…” and the Thunderstorm where “you feel attacked, raw and fearful and don’t know when the next thunderbolt will strike…”  These days I spend most of my time in an Ice Storm.  “Life is hard, cold, unrecognizable and unforgiving.  You’ve lost your footing.  There is no future and time slows way down.  You’re frozen, just trying to make it through each day.  You wonder if you’ll ever feel normal again.”  (all quotes - pg 13) 

Bleak as it may sound, that is actually a very apt description of where I am.  I know many people wonder about me and my running.  I’ve had many tell me how inspirational it is for them, but the reality of it all is that it gives me the ability to mark the days.  Each day of training I complete is another checkmark on a calendar that would otherwise stand frozen and obscured by the ice.  True it is great exercise, it is good therapy, and it is time to myself, but ultimately, right now, life is about survival.  Taking one day at a time.  Giving each day a tangible success.  Providing my cold, unforgiving days with a small glimpse of normalcy.

So how about we make a deal?  You don’t worry about trying to wrap your head around all of this, and I won’t worry about you needing to fully understand it.  Instead we will just pray together over the hearts and minds living through or encountering it and we’ll go from there.  Because the truth is, I still have a long way to go, and every time I feel like I’m moving forward I inevitably slide back a little too.  I don’t mean to be anti-social, I’m not ignoring your emails or your messages, I‘m not trying to keep any secrets or hide my new life, it’s not that I don’t want to talk to people or visit or chat, but at this point I still just can’t.  The tsunami has rolled back out to sea, the tornado has dissolved and the thunderstorm has cleared for now, but the ice storm is pervasive and although I can put a name to it, it isn’t something I can simply walk away from.  It’s a process. It’s a path through unchartered territory.   And it’s a very long, winding one at that. 

But… ultimately today is another day, and this day gets a checkmark just like the one before it so I must still be moving somehow.  I mean if you think about it, just getting this blog post written is a monumental achievement given my recent track record so I say we call today a success, and offer up a prayer of thanksgiving.  And then one for wisdom.  And then one for comfort.  And then we will go from there…  Okay?

Better is the end of a thing than its beginning; and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit.  Ecclesiastes 7:8

For God alone my soul waits in silence,
for my hope is from Him.
He only is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress; I shall not be shaken.
On God rests my deliverance and my honor;
my mighty rock, my refuge is God.
Psalm 62:5-7