When Change is in the Air

This has been the most transformative season of my life. I have learned things about myself that I was not aware even existed. Qualities I like. And those that need to go. Things I was once passionate about are those that have been put on the back burner, tossed aside so life with three children can take precedence. I’m not even going to admit to how I tried to spell precedence. But that’s how tired I am. If you know me, you know that writing is how I get everything that has been building up inside me OUT. But I haven’t had time to write, or sit, or do anything that feeds my soul. Ok, I sit a lot, but I’m usually nursing and that is not conducive to productive writing.

I just tossed my kids outside in pjs and winter jackets. I’m done. I woke up this morning with a sore throat, an upset stomach, and general malaise feeling. Crap. I’ve been trying to avoid this at all costs, but when I started to see the drippy noses of my children I had been praying against it, and yet waiting for it to advance upon me all at the same time. My rationale is that the Lord is fighting for me, and I probably don’t have the flu, just a simple head cold. Crap, nonetheless.

One of the things that has been paramount in my belief system as a Christian is that children are a reward from the Lord. It’s true, I still believe that. What I tagged onto this belief system is that if indeed children are a blessing, who am I to limit the Lord and His goodness? Now that I just wrapped up my third pregnancy I am certain more than ever that children are a blessing. I love Cori so much. In fact, I had a dream last night that I set her car seat down in a public arena and someone kicked her over and she fell out. I am still shaken by this dream. I love the maternal instincts that come with new baby, the cuddling, nursing, watching her enjoy her cute little baths while I massage her tiny feet, and kiss those toes. I love having her around. But I can’t help but to feel like now, I only want one more kid. Because I’ve been dying a lot to myself lately, thanks to my children, and while I am convinced this is part of a divine plan, I need a break. The funny thing is, me releasing this ethic that I have to the Lord has been sort of freeing, pure example of what it looks like to break even more. It’s me saying, “I can’t do this.” Maybe I will change my mind one day, but for now, I do not foresee myself being pregnant 15 times in my life. Sorry Above Rubies.

Don’t get me wrong. Do I want 15 children still? Yes, I do! I do with all of my heart. But I am starting to see that the avenue for getting to this place is through foster care and adoption. Not pushing out a 14 inch diameter head through my you know what 15 times, every 24 months. No thank you. For all of those friends that I possibly insinuated that you should share my “Full Quiver” philosophy. Forgive me? I was an idiot. I believe it’s a special calling. I am not Michelle Duggar and am more and more convinced that the grace for that calling does not rest on my life. (I still do not condone birth control pills or IUD’s in my own life, so looks like I’m becoming a Natural Family Planning expert or nursing Cori for three years.)

I have also decided that my dog is a spawn of satan. Stop barking, you lunatic! I know I used to worship him, but I think my change of heart is worth recording.

A couple of weeks ago a stirring took place in me. I decided I wanted to finish my degree. There is a college program up here with a fast track for students wishing to continue their studies. Since I will not be pushing babies out for the rest of my life, I now have the opportunity to really explore some dreams. Once upon a time Paul took me by the shoulders and shook me, “What do YOU want to do with your life?” He wanted me to shake out all of the things that others had wanted for me. I answered that I wanted to be a mom first and foremost, and so he gave me permission to stop pursuing school and stay at home with Jake. It is what I wanted, the best decision at the time. But stumbling onto a program designed to help busy people continue their education sparked something in my heart. A desire to help troubled teens, and bless others with a ministry of reconciliation. Except I’d have a degree, advanced training in the area of Psychology. The idea provoked me to joy in this season of sacrifice since we’ve been in Redding. I could get my bachelors now, my masters in a couple of years, and possibly my doctorate. We want to be a foster family when our natural children are older, how much more can we walk in this calling if I have this degree, we can reach out to behaviorally challenged kids, the ones who are often shunned. I was up for the challenge, still recognizing it was at least 15 years away! I immediately inquired about the spring semester. I began the application process and turned in my fasfa information only to realize that I actually couldn’t afford the $35 application fee. Nor the $7.50 fee to have my transcripts mailed to me. Then it occurred me, I probably wouldn’t have gas money to make the once a week commute. Yes, we are that in the hole right now, still committed to not going into debt for this venture. We have what we need to survive, thanks to gracious people that love us and my husband who is committed to sticking out a job that thoroughly torments him on a regular basis. But it’s been difficult. It was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do out here, take a step back and realize that despite the stirring in my heart, this may not be the season for school. It’s my season to stay at home with my children, while Paul goes to school, at least until we can afford to get our second car’s registration updated.

It is not fun living under this blanket of financial misery. I am not sure if it’s our fault or not, despite the fact that the very reason we are here is so Paul will have credentials for a job. It’s about picking and choosing, frantically awaiting our tax money which was once going to send both of us to the dentist, but will probably have to go towards bills, a mission trip, and tuition for next year. We are standing on shaky ground right now, trying to decide if everything we’ve been learning at Bethel, the “Kingdom minded Christian,” is really true. Because our faith feels so maxed out, and Paul and I are both tired. We’re still chugging along, grateful to have this opportunity, but it is infinitely more stressful than we had anticipated. We thought we came out here for joy, and a greater measure of grace. Not a war. But war has been the case and I guess the best we can do is assume that this is where God wants us since we are facing such opposition. If someone even starts a sentence with, “Consider it all joy…,” just know I don’t want to hear it right now.

So instead of mother’s groups and play dates, instead of attending school, I have decided to get a job. Not 40 hours a week, just something over the weekend to help ends meet. I don’t know the difference between pride and wisdom here, but I cannot have my hand out when I have perfectly good hands and feet. I love my kids, and I love my job at home. I also love my husband, who is utterly miserable at his job. He spends his days in a place that cares significantly more for numbers than people and it is taxing on both his conscience and his spirit. He has been searching tirelessly for another job and in this economy has found nothing. Who is to say that I will have any better favor? Well, we’ll just see what the Lord opens up. I am tired of hearing my son cry when Daddy is gone from 3:30am-6:15pm, because he’s barely with us mentally by the time 7:00 rolls around. And even though rotten circumstance got me to this place of reasoning, I am looking forward to having a viable excuse for not wearing the same pajamas for 6 days in a row. And brushing my hair, because at this point, I may have to literally cut out the knots I have from neglect.

I am not depressed, or downtrodden here. I am tired, for sure. Confused, a little. But I feel like there is fire in me to do something about what we are experiencing. I don’t know what else to do, but fight back. The Bible says that when you’ve done all you can, just stand. But I haven’t done all I can. There are a lot of things that I fear right now, like not being in the will of God. Or doing something hasty out of fear. Or out of the need for control. God is meeting all of our needs, but I feel helpless. I feel useless. And while the Kingdom mentality is that God will provide, I don’t think it is that God will provide while I sit here. Even if He doesn’t provide a job, at least I knocked on the door. At least I am trying to change my circumstance. And in my opinion, I’m not taking the reigns from God as much as I desire to partner with Him.

I needed to vent. I have felt for days that I need to talk to someone (besides my Mom, who hears me sing my woes daily). I want to cry because things aren’t going my way, and if I’m at all knowledgeable about the Kingdom, I can’t imagine the life I’m living is doing much for the Kingdom either. Unfortunately, an attitude of “fed up” sounds very much like not being grateful. I am grateful to be here. My husband loves school, he is learning so much. He loves it so much that now we’re trying to figure out how we can stay for third year internship. But we can’t help but to feel like the constant draining of our finances is robbing us of our experience. Because I haven’t gone to any Wednesday classes, because I’m too tired. Because I’ve had the kids from sun up to sun down by myself with no car. Because Paul is so stressed by the atmosphere at his job, he’s weeping at school, not rejoicing. He’s missed all of his Revival Group parties, the retreat, the day at the ropes course because he has to work. We came here for an experience that we feel like we’re getting very little from because 500 pounds of not being able to afford food, insurance, rent, and utilities is sitting on top of us. Does God come through? Yes, or at least I’m hoping so this time around, He has numerous times before. This stuff we’re learning is either true or it isn’t, we shall see. But in either case, I’m hoping to find a job. Pray for us, please, that my sanity would remain in tact despite all of the identity crises I have been facing on a daily basis.

A lot of people warned me that this is the wrong season for Redding because I had a baby. I have to say, having a baby and seeing her sweet face is sometimes just the amount of prodding and grace I need to make it through another day. Just saying. The season is perfect, it’s just the battle we seem to be falling behind in.