Why?

We've been in our new house in Pinehurst for almost 2 weeks now. Moving and unpacking is the worst - I feel like things are under control and then stumble across another couple of boxes which unearths stuff I have to find a home for and pretty soon the whole house is in shambles again. It's like a jigsaw puzzle that never ends!

But other than that, we are settling in nicely. The kids and I love the house, we love the area, and I can't wait to get involved in things once I have this baby.

So...why Pinehurst?

This is a tough post for me to write, mostly because I don't know what to say or how to say it or even if I'm ready to talk about it. But with Harper coming soon, it feels like I should address it.

With his permission to share everything below, I think most people know Todd and I have been separated. Some really hard things led to our separation and while I have battled hurt, sadness, betrayal and fear he has been battling an addiction.

For the last 9 mos, as I've prayed for direction, I've heard a lot of "be still."  I knew that separation was the right choice, without a doubt. I knew that Todd needed to get healthy, and that in small ways I was enabling him to stay sick. I am not, by nature, codependent - but it's almost impossible not to adapt codependent tendencies when you are married to an addict.

The good news is that Todd has completed an inpatient treatment stay and moved on to a recovery program where he's been since April. He's pursuing sobriety hard and with intention and commitment and I've seen him change significantly. I've seen the Todd I knew when we dated, the one I married and committed my life to. I've seen a vibrance in him that has been missing for a long time.

His recovery program is in the Sandhills area, not far from where we are now living. It was a hard decision for me, but one guided by the most loving and caring Heavenly Father who has taught me so much during this process. He has taught me about unconditional love, forgiveness, grace and even empathy.

I am a work in progress on all of those fronts by the way - I am also battling a lot of other feelings: fear, anger, resentment, betrayal, abandonment, embarrassment, sadness...

And I've had to let myself sit right there in those feelings occasionally, because they show up when I least expect it. They're real and they're valid feelings and I have learned at this point in my life that stuffing them does no one any good. And you know? It sucks. It sucks to be looking back over the last year at pictures and have them trigger memories or moments that are hard and painful. I want to delete everything about the past year and fast forward to the better stuff. I hold on to hope that there will be better stuff.

So what does this all mean, really?

I don't know.

My personal experience with shared custody of my oldest son has been a painful one in its own right. It's a painful situation to share your child across state lines and over holidays and summers. When Todd began to take the correct steps to get well, and continued to maintain his sobriety I felt the gentle nudge that reminded me my children need to be near their father, as long as he was healthy. And I knew that with a newborn coming, I would not only need help, but that I deserved help.

So the slow process began - one of starting the healing process as a family. A process of understanding, forgiveness, grace and learning - really learning - about addiction. It hasn't been easy. But it's been so good to see the boys happy and excited and truly enjoying things they have missed out on for a long time.

I don't know what this means for my marriage just yet. Todd and I are living in separate residences still. He is spending a lot of time with the family, helping out, just being with the kids, and we are slowly seeing where things go. It's been a time of rest for me, just having him healthy and well and here to help. I know that as long as he works on sobriety, our family has a chance at surviving this. I am hopeful for him and for my children.

But I am scared. Addiction is...almost impossible to describe. It's hell. It's insanity. It's indescribable. It's baffling and mind boggling and twisted and just really, really sad.

There are parts of our story that will be painful for a long time to come. Things that will take me probably years to get over. But in all my time on my knees, searching for the peace to officially leave my marriage, I never got it. All I ever felt was that my job was to be still. To continue on the path I was on, but to wait. And I got angry many, many times. I had so many reasons to be angry, and I knew that I had every biblical reason in my back pocket to sign divorce papers and move on.

But God's message to me was to be still. So I am practicing that as often as I can, and learning the
very complicated art of grace. For a long time, I thought grace meant blindly accepting and forgiving and ignoring what my inner self was screaming, but I have learned that sometimes before we can extend true grace, we have to be able to put up boundaries.

I hope to dig into the topic of addiction more on this blog. It's an extraordinarily confusing issue which is often misdiagnosed as a host of other mental illnesses or problems and statistics tell us that twenty-three million Americans age 12 or older suffer from alcohol and drug addiction. 23 million is a staggering number. It's a prevalent problem but one that very few truly understand. A problem that has directly affected my life, my marriage and my family and one that I am still working hard to understand every day. 

I remain cautious and unsure on this journey. How could I not? I know that a happy outcome is not guaranteed. I know that recovery statistics are grim. But I also know that I follow and trust an amazing God who wants healing and recovery and wholeness. And for Him, I take a giant step forward.

Love is a Verb

Boy social media has been fun this week, hasn't it? (sarcasm)

I can hardly scroll through my feed without being told how to feel, think or act about Caitlyn Jenner, especially because I call myself a follower of Christ.

And since my opinions and thoughts on the whole thing aren't generally aligned with what seems to be popular thought, I don't even want to go there - this isn't a debate about what she should and shouldn't do with her life and what God says or doesn't say about it in the bible.

But rather this is a plea to my friends to stop using social media as a way to be lazy Christians.

It's fine to have opinions, we all do. Our thoughts, experiences, feelings and emotions shape who we are and how we feel about things. I personally don't care what you think or don't think about this whole thing.

But what saddens me is the blatant disgust, attempts at shaming and name calling I have seen from so many people. Shouting bible verses behind the relative anonymity of a computer screen is not really what I believe God had in mind when he commanded us to love others. Assigning greater weight to certain sins over others is not our job.

Last night, I responded to a comment thread about this whole thing, and about the concept that those of us who aren't in an uproar about someone else's life must surely be confusing love with acceptance - that we can love without agreeing with someone's actions. That whole love the sinner, hate the sin thing.

And while I suppose there is truth to that line of thought, to ME, it seems that so many people think love means shouting your opinions on Facebook while sitting on your couch in your pjs watching Netflix. Because as long as we are talking about what God thinks, we're getting the job done right?

Sure I'm not a theologian or a gospel scholar but see, I'm pretty convinced that isn't love at all.

A few years ago, a pastor friend of mine (Holla Jared Kirk!) gave a sermon about love - I don't remember much of it (sorry, Jared...mommy brain and all...) but I DO remember him saying that love is a verb. I've heard this several times since then, so I know you've probably heard it too - but it always sticks with me.

Love isn't just words. It's actions.

Saying you love someone isn't enough. As humans, we respond not just to words but to touch, to kindness, to actions. We observe everything around us and we internalize it and it shapes who we are.

It has become far too easy for us to say passively that we are praying for someone. To talk about our faith on social media or in blogs and think that's enough. To shout about what we are against instead of what we are for. To point fingers and act like someone else sins more than we do.

But the truth is, Christ died for my wretchedness as much as anyone else's. And I don't know about you, but if you really stop and think about that - that'll kick you in the gut. He died for MY sins. For MY wickedness. When you get right down to it, we are all the same in that way.

No, you don't have to agree with someone's actions to love them. But I do have to wonder - isn't it critical to get in the mess with someone you claim to love? Get down in there, sit there with them, try to understand what's happening and what they are struggling with. Listen to their heart, their feelings, their emotions. Learn who they ARE.

In my personal life, I can attest that over the past couple of years I have harbored a LOT of anger towards someone I'm supposed to love. And some of that anger was justified, some of it came from a place of hurt because I had been deeply hurt.

But if I'm being honest, a lot of it came from a place of fear and of misunderstanding.  And yes, my fear and misunderstanding was normal and justified. Most everything I feared would happen DID in fact happen. I felt angry, disgusted, and furious because I didn't want to truly understand what was happening with the other person.  Some of it - a lot of it even - was justifiable.

But if you want to live out the gospel, you have to stop thinking about your own fears and embrace the unknown. To open your mind and listen to what God tells you.

And yeah, sometimes it sucks. Because when you get right down to it - we are all failing. And to admit that God sacrificed His Son for you as much as He did someone else will shine a light on your own brokenness faster than you can blink. But that's what is beautiful about the gospel. Our failures, our sins, our mistakes don't define us.

Hey friends, let's not just preach love. Let's actually give it. The gospel is so much more beautifully lived out through actions and not just words. We have an incredible message of radical love and grace. And if we are commanded to love others, that means we have to try to live life with them and not against them.

(Also y'all - Snopes is a fantastic website to verify what you're posting as truth...just sayin)

anger

Many - if not all of you - know that I was a single mom for 10 years.

For the majority of those 10 years continuing into the last 3, I received little to no financial support from Logan's father.  He owes thousands and thousands and thousands and thousands of dollars and no one holds him responsible.

This used to make me really, really angry.  Like punch a hole in the wall (or wishing I could) kind of angry.  The kind of rage and anger that builds up inside and makes you feel like you could be physically violent towards someone.  Seriously.  I'm the least violent person on the planet, but knowing that my son's father didn't feel it necessary to help me out much made me feel VERY angry.

I let this anger fester and build for a long time, honestly.  As every month passed, and nothing changed, that anger grew.  It made me question a lot of people, a lot of things, even God.  It wasn't FAIR.  As a parent with full custody, if I decided to stop investing money for my child's wellbeing - for food, for clothing, for daycare while I worked - DSS would be at my doorstep hauling him off to foster care.  How come his own father wasn't being held to a similar standard?

I wasn't wrong in wanting there to be two parents who cared equally for their child.  In a perfect world, two parents would both contribute equally to the child's well being, financially and otherwise.  The problem came when I let it fester and get to the point where it bubbled under the surface all day, every day.  That anger was always there.  It affected a lot of what I did, what decisions I made, what actions I took.  Although I was extremely careful never, ever to say anything negative in front of or to Logan about the situation, I acted like a child in other areas of my life.  I wasn't doing it intentionally, but in many ways I was seeking revenge. I wanted SOMEONE to pay.

There was a point in my life where I worked a full time job and a part time job.  I would work 8-5 and then head to a bar where I waited tables until about 3am.  I would get home with just enough time to scarf food and fall asleep for 4 hours before getting up and doing it all over again.  I rarely saw my son.  I was barely keeping my head above water.  And while I was struggling, working my butt off to provide the bare necessities, Logan's father was taking vacations to Mexico with his girlfriend.

I am not even kidding, people.  I wish I were.

But that's not the point of this post.

I woke up one morning and realized I had to let it go.

And I know that it isn't this easy for everyone, but I honestly did just that.  I LET IT GO.  I decided right then and there that HIS crappy actions were not going to affect my life negatively for one more second.  Was it fair?  Hell no.  But this was where my life was at, it was the card I'd been handed, and it was time to stop walking around like a big ball of anger at someone who wasn't the least bit affected by my anger.  He didn't know how angry I was, and if he ever started to realize it, he sure didn't care.  So who was the anger affecting?

Just me.

That saying about 'holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die...' - that was true in my life.  I was walking around, this big ball of anger and it was affecting no one but me.

So I let it go.  That was probably 5 years ago.  The only child support I've received since then was one payment from a tax garnishment.  It wasn't a voluntary payment, it was a forced one.  And it was JUST ONCE.  But I'm not angry.  In fact, I still go out of my way to ensure that Logan spends time with his Dad several times a year, sometimes on our dime.

I changed my mentality.  I decided to not expect anything from someone who clearly didn't care to give me anything, even though Logan and I both deserved help.  I decided that *if* I ever saw a check in my mailbox, it would be an added bonus, some sweet relief that month that I wasn't expecting.

Changing my perspective changed my life.  It sounds dramatic, but I'm serious.  I felt a weight lift off my shoulders.  I felt happier.  I still had to work hard to provide for my son, but it was easier to do it without the anger hovering above me all the time.

Some might say I've let myself become a doormat in this situation.  And truthfully, I probably have.  Legally and morally, a father SHOULD provide for his child.  But for me to invest the time, energy and money into pursuing it - for me it wasn't worth it.  I am happier now that I'm not wrapped up in the drama of being angry, of wanting justice, of being judgmental.

I let myself hit almost rock bottom in my personal life before I realized how much holding on to the anger was affecting me.  When I said goodbye to that anger, it was like opening up every door and window in a house for the first time.  Fresh air and sunshine flooded in.

That's not to say that life has been smooth sailing since then.  It's not to say that it hasn't been difficult and that at times, I haven't wished for a check to show up every month.  And, just recently I decided it was time to pursue child support again.  But it's not from anger or because I want to seek justice.  I know in my heart probably nothing will change, and I probably won't see any money in my mailbox.

And I'm ok with that.

I learned a lesson when I let go of the anger.  I learned to let God be the judge.  I learned Grace.  I learned that above all, people WILL disappoint you.  They will mistreat you, they will be unfair to you.  At some point, someone or SOMEONES will do this to you.  And I learned how to forgive, how to move forward and how not to let someone else's actions consume me.

I'm a happier person for it.

Sinking

Back in 2007 (ish) I first heard the song How He Loves. (If you've ever felt really, really angry with God, you should totally check out that link by the way) It was during this song that I prayed to receive Christ for the first time.  I was moved to tears by the lyrics, by the imagery, and by this verse in particular - 

How beautiful a concept is that?  

Todd and I try to make it a priority to see the ocean once a year, and I am never more in awe of God's creation as I am when I stare out at the ocean.  The vastness, the expansiveness, the beauty of it  - it's magnificent and inspiring and awesome.  

Hearing that verse, and imagining God's grace in that way was - and still is - an incredibly powerful way for me to view Him.  To know that He is a God that offers all encompassing love, all encompassing forgiveness, all encompassing compassion.
English theologian Richard Sibbes once said, "There is more mercy in Christ than sin in us."

Don't you just love that?

It's easy to keep score.  In our own lives, in the lives of others - to pull out that invisible little checklist we all secretly keep in our heads.  To record a black mark when we screw up, when our friends screw up, when people we trust screw up.  And if you've been immersed in a religion or culture that pushes works as a value over grace, that's a hard habit or thought process to get past.  

But the truth is we ARE all sinners, each and every one of us.  And the even greater truth is that God knows us intimately and He still offers each one of us that all encompassing, as big as the ocean kind of grace, love and forgiveness.  

One of the things I love most about being a parent is the real life glimpse I get into what God's love must be like.  

I've held, nursed & cared for 3 newborns in my life and here's what I know.  Babies need their mothers. There is something primal about a newborn's need to be held close by a mother.  In the last 10 days of Declan's life, I have observed - again - how he is most easily calmed simply by me stopping what I am doing to nurse him, tuck him inside my shirt for a little skin to skin time, or wear him in a wrap close to my chest.  

In Isaiah 49:15 it says:

       “Can a woman forget her nursing child
           And have no compassion on the son of her womb?
           Even these may forget, but I will not forget you.
16           Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands;
          Your walls are continually before Me."

I love the imagery in this verse - how God compares His love to that of a mother and then takes it a step further by explaining that even if a mother's love fails her child, His love will not. His love never fails, He will never forget us and He will never give up on us.  

How powerful is that?  How incredible a promise to consider.  It's hard for me even comprehend that, because the love I feel for my own children is a crazy big kind of love and God's love is bigger.

There aren't many times in life that 'sinking' could be thought of as a positive.  If you're sinking, it's usually a bad thing.  But sinking into God's grace, into His love can offer you peace and rest.  It can and should calm your fears, your uncertainty and your guilt.  Sink into it and embrace it.  Offer it to those around you.

And remember the promise that God has given you - He knows you more intimately than a nursing mother knows her child and He has inscribed you on the palms of His hands.  He will not forget you.  

  

Protection

(Yes, that is me on the bottom left - younger, thinner, tanner, blonder.  Heh.)

 I'm the oldest of four.  I have 2 younger sisters and a younger brother - and my brother was born with multiple medical issues.  I won't get into them all here because they are complicated, and even after 30 years of being his sister I'm not sure I understand them all but I will tell you this - he had brain tumors and has been through multiple brain surgeries.  He dealt with seizures for most of his childhood.  Behavioral and impulse control problems resulted because of the tumors, surgeries and endless medications.

As a child, I remember our house almost always being in a state of emergency.  My brother was, in many ways, a normal highly spirited and impulsive little guy.  But a lot of that impulsivity was exacerbated by his condition.  Sometimes I'm not sure how my parents made it through those years.

We have legendary stories to tell about my brother, but this is one that always strikes me. I think he was maybe 3 or 4 years old and disappeared one afternoon.  This was pretty common - he was a magician at finding ways to sneak out of the house and take off from a very young age.

On this day, my Mother got into our car to head out and look for him.

In the city we lived in at the time, there was a busy intersection at the bottom of a big hill.  And when I say big, I mean BIG hill.  It was a 4 way stop, 2 lanes at each light - heading into a busy shopping center.  She recounts her experience of sitting at the stop light, waiting for the light to turn green so she could head into the shopping center to look for him.  I believe it was around rush hour, because she tells of how busy the intersection was.  Cars whizzing by, constant movement.  As she sat there, she noticed in the rear view mirror a blur coming down the hill that was my little brother.  Perched on his big wheel, and completely oblivious to the absolute danger that awaited him, he went careening down this hill full speed towards a busy intersection during rush hour traffic.

I can't even BEGIN to fathom how her emotions took over at that moment.  I can almost feel the dread in my own stomach as I think of one of my little ones heading full speed ahead towards such obvious danger and destruction.  As she sat in her car, panicked, stuck in traffic and unable to stop the tragedy that she was sure was to unfold, I'm sure she could do nothing but pray.

The second my brother hit the intersection, it was as if time stood still.  The road fell silent and cars seemed to vanish.  No cars whizzing through the lights, no cars turning into the shopping center.  Just a happy, oblivious little 4 year old boy on a big wheel flying through at break neck speed.  He made it through that intersection without a scratch and as soon as he hit the sidewalk on the other side, my Mom will say how almost immediately traffic picked back up and cars began whizzing down the road again.

I think of that story often - the way he was protected as he unknowingly careened towards what should have resulted in certain death or at least severe injury.  I think of our Heavenly Father looking over him at that moment - seeing my Mother in the car, fear grasping her heart.  I think of Him casting a tunnel of protection over my little brother in the moment he flew through that busy intersection, keeping him safe.

I wonder to myself how many times I have been like that oblivious little boy on a big wheel - without knowledge of what certain destruction was waiting for me.  I wonder how many times my Heavenly Father cast a tunnel of protection around me and let me fly gleefully through what should have been a terrifying and devastating moment.

It is easy to focus on the moments we know went wrong.  It's easy to be angry over things we KNOW caused us pain and despair and tragedy.  Those are tangible, in your face experiences.  I, like so many of you, find myself crying out to God demanding to know WHY He put me in this place.  I want to know WHY He wasn't there to protect me from it.

But the truth is, I am sure He has been there countless times before when I had no idea.  Deep down, I know He is always there, always with me. I will probably never know just how many times he paused life around me and let me experience happiness and pure oblivion.

T. D. Jakes once said, “That thing that is not coming to you may seem good. But either the timing is wrong, or from His position He can see that the future of it is bleak. I have always believed that people who thank God only for delivering them from what happened are just scraping the surface of praise. The real praise comes when you start thanking Him for what could have happened but didn’t because of His swift grace!"

Today, I choose to praise God for his unending grace, love and protection.  I have no doubt it has been rained down upon me in moments that I was completely and utterly unaware.