Divorce

The greatest of these is LOVE

/ Hope and Dave / 2 Comments

the greatest is LOVEPosted by Hope

It’s a tricky thing to be honest with those around you. We walk a tightrope of comfort and transparency when we consider sharing our authentic selves. When I have shared life with a friend, I sometimes walk away having a review conversation with myself about what I should have said differently or kept to myself. As a woman, I know I’m not alone in that struggle. With that said, I would like to share how very conflicting it is to carry on this blog. I read a lot of personal stories and realize more and more that every single person has so much to give. Why would what I write, or don’t write, make a difference? I had a post written for Mother’s Day that was a celebration of the two years we have clocked in our journey as a new family. I didn’t post it. The reason, I felt it would be hypocritical. I had a complete meltdown on Mother’s Day evening. Timing is everything.

For the last six weeks, I have grown in an area that is private to most and disappointing to me. The ugly parts of me have been exposed in my interactions with my step sons. I have found myself in a season where reality is sinking in and the cost of giving up my single and childless lifestyle is hitting home. My head now understands that there is rarely room in the schedule for just catching my breath, finances are usually tight and boys are a different breed than girls altogether. It’s stretched me out of my comfort zone and quite honestly, I haven’t stretched quietly. I feel like making it to the end of baseball season with my marriage and sanity intact was a complete miracle. I have no idea how families that do travel ball make it. I have found resentment, selfishness, un-forgiveness and doubt in my heart and it is disgusting to discover. What I realized is that an old track that played in my head in a prior life had found it’s way into this one.

On Mother’s Day, as we returned home from a road trip, I couldn’t wait to deliver them to their mom’s house and regain the peace and quiet of MY home. So many things are wrong with that sentence, but it’s the truth of what was on my mind. I had spent the last 30 minutes of the drive home stewing in frustration at the lack of peace and quiet. When we reached the driveway, they exited the car and walked to the front door, without a glace back or a good bye. The moment I had waited for had arrived and instead of feeling relief, I felt loss. As I watched them disappear behind the door, I felt the tears come. The drive to our driveway was short and by the time we made it into our house, a wave of grief washed over me. Dave asked what was wrong and through my sobs, I told him, “I can’t talk right now, just pray for me.” I walked into our bedroom and collapsed beside our bed into a heap of tears. The waves of emotions washed over me and as I heaved the sorrow from my soul, I had no idea or understanding about why such a simple act could produce this kind of reaction. Slowly, as the moment brought calm and the storm began to subside, I felt a quiet knowing that this grief was bigger than the simple driveway incident. The timing of the day and the act of departure was no coincidence. It was THE purge. The emptying out of years of pain and disappointment for what would never be for me. No sonogram photos, no protruding belly, no girly showers with matching cookies and ribbon, no tiny fingers wrapped around my finger or smiling responses to my voice. This was the reality of my motherhood. Caution, trepidation, desire for love met with shallow response, competing affections and tender hearts.

In the following weeks, through personal study, amazing preaching and the secure voice of God, He unwrapped what this lesson held. I got lost in romanticizing the idea of our family. I had begun to rush us to become and for me to be. The timing of the blend has to move at it’s authentic pace or it is forced and will disappoint. God showed me that He would not have called me to this life if He had not already provided every single tool I would need to cover every need. My impatience with the gift He has given me in my new family had brought me to a place of careful consideration. When I was arrested by the willingness of my heart to discard what had been given to me as a blessing, I felt breathless at how I could even consider a trade. As a trade off, this past weekend, I was given a glimpse into not one, but three tiny hearts that was earned through trust. Because I could admit my faults and apologize, I earned the right to listen when they opened up.

I am in awe of single parents. Their ability to wear so many hats and keep it all spinning is miraculous to me. They don’t have the option but to keep going and to find the beauty in their situation. Getting acquainted with parenthood has been very conflicting for me because of my tendency to romanticize the whole experience. As I live the reality of the cost, I have not done a very graceful job of transitioning. My three step-sons and their father have extended so much grace toward me as I pout and react with passive aggression until the mirror of the Word is held up to me and I have to repent to them. What truth lies in 1 Corinthians 13!

If you are new to life with kids, know that it will challenge every selfish place inside and cost you dearly. However, when you receive a piece of their hearts, it makes every sacrifice worth it. Also, I highly recommend finding humor in it. There’s plenty of it flying around so don’t take yourself so seriously. Trust the process and don’t even THINK about attempting this without Jesus Christ at the center of your relationship with your spouse. These days pass quickly and it will be quiet before you know it. Don’t waste the opportunity to shape a life.

How Did I Get Here?

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Post by Hope

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HOW DID I GET HEEEEEERE?! HOW did I get here? Um, how did I get HERE? I’ve asked it these three ways and probably a hundred times differently in the past two years. The part that you don’t see in this picture is me questioning if I could actually pull it off….living the self-less life I’ve promised them I would. Going back over the vows and rehearsing to myself all of the reasons why I stay. The times when the entire house is pulsing with some form of media and quiet cannot be found in my own home. When my preferences are not considered and when choices that affect my life are made by others.

How about the times Dave has found me crying in a ball in our room and watched without words until the storm passes. The nights we have lost sleep because I am rocked to my core with yet another request for stretching beyond all limits I have set. Or the ball games where she has been within feet and the awkwardness of watching the kids decide who they will sit with and show affection toward. It’s all the part that we don’t air.

What I learned, very quickly, when my former life ended, is that there IS NO “grass is greener” on the other side. It doesn’t exist. Everybody has dead grass in their proverbial yard. The difference is those who dig up the dirt, find the poison and make room for life again. We weren’t surprised by the fact that there is turbulence in our home. We weren’t shocked to find that taking one step forward, usually comes with two steps backwards. What has surprised me the most, is me. When the heat is turned up and too many things are happening at once, I almost always withdraw and resort to survival mode. In survival mode, I wall off my heart and identify the enemies and how to avoid them until the threat has passed. The problem with that in this life, is that those “enemies” are people. The people I have pledged to love unconditionally.

I grew up as a transient, gypsy, Army BRAT. I have an internal clock that is set for 2 years. This was the cycle of an assignment for most of my dad’s career. This clock governs my comfort zone as an adult. Like a predictable cuckoo clock, it goes off every two years to let me know it’s time to move on and discover the next challenge. In my first marriage, I uncovered this weakness and learned that roots are a good thing. In this marriage, I am not only challenged to re-grow roots, but to stay when the hurricane blows at a Cat 4. This is year #2. The question about who I am and what I’m made of is staring me in the face.

For the faint of heart, this life is not for you. Find a way to fix your broken relationship because if you leave or make him leave, the next marriage will break you the rest of the way. For the selfish, get over yourself. If you choose to live the only trip around the sun you have for you alone, your story will be short, no matter how far you travel. For the lost, if you can’t find your compass and true north outside of a relationship, you’re going to be led astray by anyone that wanders onto your path. This will ruin true love for you. Now for you brave souls who are living in the reality of balancing it all….in your head AND your heart, do the work. There’s no shortcuts. Do the work lads and lasses. The quality of the love, the time and the memories will pay you back in multiples.

Love hard.

The End

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Rocky

Posted By Dave

“How did I end up here?” was the question that the voice in my head kept asking. I came home from work to see only my clothes and open space where some of the furniture used to be. Sadness, anger, frustration, it all washed over me. I was like a fighter who had taken a right hook that I didn’t have a chance to brace for. As I crumbled to the canvas, I was pissed and hurt. How does 13 years of marriage, three children and a home together, a life built together, end up here? Sometimes there just isn’t an explanation. Sometimes there just aren’t any answers. Sometimes bad stuff happens to people who tried to do everything right. It doesn’t make any sense.

After the separation began, my boys would go spend the agreed-upon days with their mom. Instantly, a house that was full of the sounds and activity of a young family was as quiet as a funeral home. Appropriately, I felt like I was dying inside. Toys left where they were played with last. Their clothes in the laundry, Capri-Suns in the refrigerator. The TV left on the last channel they watched, the baseball laying in the front yard. I couldn’t wait to talk to them, but despised having to tell them “Good Night” over the phone. I missed them so bad, I felt like someone was using a vacuum to suck the life out of me. I would lay there in bed and be enveloped in the silence. It made me sick to my stomach. It was in those times that I began to experience the love of my heavenly Father like I never had before. I have been a Christian since 1997, yet I discovered during those lonely nights that my faith had never been tested like this. I began to beg God to make His presence known, I was having a real crisis of faith, wondering if all of the stuff I had said about Jesus through the years was really true or if I was just repeating what everyone else was saying.

I know now that it is all true. I can’t explain it in words so that anyone else would understand. I just know because I’ve sensed the presense of my Savior in times when I just wanted to curl up in a ball in the floor. I know because I was broken down and stripped of everything that I held dear, and yet still knew that there was a reason for it. I know because He waited for me to ask Him for forgiveness before He began to reveal His new plan for me. I don’t ask “why?” anymore. That’s because I know the answer. It wasn’t so I could start over. It wasn’t so I could get answers to all of my questions. I’ve learned over time that the specifics don’t matter. Who did what, who said what, who was wrong and who was right, none of it matters. I spent plenty of time being self-righteous about my circumstances, and it still left me empty. The reason I don’t ask why anymore is because every day I live this life completely differently than I did prior to the day my first marriage ended. It is encompassed in this quote from author Ken Gire:

“When suffering shatters the carefully kept vase that is our lives, God stoops to pick up the pieces. But he doesn’t put them back together as a restoration project patterned after our former selves. Instead, he sifts through the rubble and selects some of the shards as raw material for another project – a mosaic that tells the story of redemption.”

The End was The Beginning for me. I made the choice to get up off of the canvas, spit the blood out of my mouth and get back in the fight. The fight for me was to figure out what I did to cause what happened and fix it. I went to counseling for months to open up those places that were in the shadows and bring them into the light. The fight for me was to lead my sons through a traumatic situation. I could not leave them behind as I jumped back in the ring, I had no choice but to be a healthy Dad for them. I fight for them every day, even when they aren’t with me. Someday they are going to have to fight too. It is my job to be their Mickey, to prepare them for the day they are going to step into the ring. Now the fight for me involves my young marriage to a woman who is my Adrian. I refuse to let my past or my enemy win, and that means fighting for what is good and right. Even though my greatest fears were realized, they were also defeated the moment that stopped trying to control what wasn’t mine begin with. Freedom and power are my assets thanks to Who I serve, not who I am.

It all began the day that it ended.

Step By Step

/ Hope and Dave / 2 Comments

footprints-in-the-snow

Posted By Hope

It begins with one step. One foot in front of the other. This is what it felt like to start over.

After ten years of marriage, I found myself unpacking in a tiny one bedroom apartment in Charlotte. Not in the nice part of town, but not exactly in the bad part. I used up every bit of fight I had left as I unloaded the trailer with the last of my furniture. The drive out of my old neighborhood was a mixture of loss and hope. As I opened the door of my new place to begin moving all that was left to begin again, I began to run out of strength. It was the last half load that was the hardest. I remember carrying in a box that was heavy and as I carried it through my living room and out onto the patio storage, I began to cry and felt like I couldn’t make one more trip out. As the tears began to fall, I stopped in the doorway and couldn’t fight them anymore. I felt a small whisper tell me to keep going. He said, “Just take one step at a time. Just one step Hope. One step gives way to another and you make your way to that last box.” I made my way through the living room and out to the trailer and picked up more and carried on slowly and with tears. With that last box, I depleted the reserve tank and collapsed into a spent, crying mess. As I sat there recovering on my couch, I realized that I had kept going for another hour, with the strength from one step at a time.

That wasn’t the last time He gave me rest in that concept. There were moments of such loneliness and rejection when I felt so completely lost in my divorce that I questioned if He even remembered me. I cried so often and for so long that it felt like I would always be sad. That the idea of life turning over a new leaf or that cloud having a silver lining was not for me because I had sinned by going through a divorce. For me, the hope of full joy did not apply any longer. That season ended. Thankfully that was not the case. I just needed time. What He taught me in that place was that we prepare for what is next, in the now. He carefully showed me the concept of one step at a time. I didn’t have the strength for more than that during my broken season, so I listened. As I began to heal, I saw that the concept applies to every season. Even when it’s good.

As I face the challenge of doing life as an awkward semi-quasi-partial parent, I apply this principle often. When I get selfish, when I get rejected, when I am overwhelmed and when I just plain don’t want to do this anymore. In my planning, in my waiting, in my hope and in my fear, I recognize that all I have light for is the step I am currently taking. Living like this means that I have no idea where the journey will take me, but I know from experience that I’m not alone and the destination isn’t the part that matters.

Liberating The Patterns

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Posted by Dave

crochet-ripple-pattern

When I was a kid, I remember watching my mom crochet different things like blankets and pot holders. Although being a boy kept me from ever wanting to crochet anything on my own, I remember being amazed at how these different spools of yarn could turn into a big blanket or a coaster for the coffee table. The different colors of yarn formed a pattern that held the final product together.

During January, we’ve been in a sermon series about the patterns in our lives. This series has focused on how the patterns in our lives play out on a day-to-day basis. We’ve been studying how the growth and implementation of our faith determines the patterns that are displayed as a result.

This got me thinking about the patterns in my life, and in my own family. This is something that I’m very passionate about, as I believe the lives we live are determined by the patterns we were taught during our upbringing (both good and bad), and by the patterns we learn as we experience life itself (both good and bad). For example, a daughter grows up with a father who doesn’t know how to love her and never shows love to her. She grows up not understanding affection from a man, and then spends the rest of her life seeking this love from other men in an unhealthy way. A son grows up with a mother who criticizes him and never approves of what he does. He grows up feeling like he’s never good enough, then spends the rest of his life trying to gain approval from women in an unhealthy way. And so on. On the flip side, the positive things from a child’s upbringing have a postive impact on their lives.

With enough self-reflection, the patterns in our lives become evident. What about your marriage, divorce, family, or step-family? Can you see any patterns in those? Being sensitive to the patterns in a traditional family are important enough. Some of those patterns are born into a traditional family, there is a genetic pattern that cannot be broken. In a blended family, you’re trying to patch a family together without the genetic bond that is present in a traditional family. Identifying these patterns can make or break the well-being of your family. If you’re in the middle of a season that has you wondering if that “patch” is going to hold up, just give it some time. Patterns aren’t completed or determined overnight. As our pastor said recently, “you hear me preach for 45 minutes and expect to undo 45 years of bad patterns in your life? It doesn’t work that way.”

The challenge then becomes taking the time to look objectively at the patterns in your life. Do I have enough time or energy to change what I see? Is it worth the effort that it will take? It’s just like exercise. You have to start somewhere. There is no quick fix to fixing the negative patterns in your life or family. There’s no pill to take. There’s no 30 day diet that will give you that supermodel body. It will take work, and lots of hard work, to turn the tide. What’s the alternative? Pretending that everything is fine, and that you don’t need to examine the fine print. If that is your choice, not only do you miss out on the opportunity to change the negative patterns in your life, you also miss out on seeing the positive patterns in your life. Don’t let the fear of seeing things you don’t want to see keep you from seeing things that you need to see.

As you look at the patterns in your family, try to steer away from blanket statements, generalities, or decisions instead of taking each individual person into account. This doesn’t mean that one individual is more important than any other in the family. The pattern of the family is set by the individual patterns. To change the patterns in the family, it begins with transforming individual patterns. It would be much easier to make one decision or change of direction that would affect everyone the same. Because we’re created with individual temperaments, personalities and needs, it just isn’t that simple. One person’s positive or negative patterns can affect the entire family. Take a family of four with an alcoholic father who is abusive when he drinks. The patterns of the other three people in the family will be affected. Mom will either become codependent (where one person supports or enables another person’s addictions or irresponsibility) or she will reject Dad’s behavior, causing major conflict between the two of them. Whichever direction she goes will determine the patterns of the lives of the children. This is exactly why so many problems in families are generational, because these patterns show up very early in our lives. If they aren’t confronted and dealt with, you have teenagers and then young adults repeating the same mistakes. Then they carry those patterns into their relationships and marriages, producing children who will carry them as well. And on and on it goes. Dad’s alcoholism and how it manifests itself in the family has determined the pattern, and it has affected everyone. Mom can stand up and say “we’re going to change the pattern of this family” and try to stem the tide of how everything is affecting the children, but until Dad makes a choice to change, the pattern will always be there. This is why you have to look at each individual in the family when looking at the patterns of the whole family.

When Hope and I decided to get married, we had an expectation that it would take plenty of time for our family to be “crocheted” together. In a step/blended family situation, the tendency is to try to put it all together overnight. That puts so much pressure on the individuals in the family that no patterns have time to emerge. Everyone is simply reacting or trying to keep the peace. Our approach hasn’t changed from Day 1, and now we’re starting to experience the fruit from this patience. This doesn’t mean that we’re without conflict and that everything is smooth sailing. This doesn’t mean that we won’t have tough days ahead, especially as our three sons transform into those monsters known as teenagers. What it means is that instead of reacting only to situations and circumstances, you go further into what is happening. Is there a deeper pattern as to why this happened? Does that pattern need to be changed for the family to be healthy? You have to allow the tapestry to be woven slowly as everyone adjusts.

Take a look at your life and your family today and see if you can identify the patterns. Look for the good ones and the bad ones. Look for the ones that you want to change. It might be as simple as changing your diet & exercise plan, or choosing to stop watching or listening to things that are preventing growth in your life. Or it could be as big as making the choice to not be an addict anymore. If your marriage is going well, or going not-so-well, know that it isn’t circumstances that have caused that. It’s the patterns. Sew the good ones into the pattern of your life and tear out the bad ones. Then wait for the change to happen.

Two Christmases

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Two Christmases

Posted by Dave

If you’re divorced with children like me, it is likely you have a separation or custody agreement that tells you when your kids will be with you and when they won’t. My copy of this legal paperwork also spells out what will happen with the children on Thanksgiving and Christmas. For me, these holidays rotate. On the years I have them for Thanksgiving, they are with their mother for Christmas. I had them for Thanksgiving this year, which means that we will spend this Christmas without the boys.

This is year #4 for my boys having “Two Christmases”. It is a constant reminder that our family isn’t like it used to be, and that we’ve had to make adjustments to how we celebrate the holidays. It is a constant reminder that we aren’t a “traditional” family. Because my parents divorced, I remember what it felt like to have a Christmas with my Dad, and a Christmas with my Mom. Even though this is becoming normal for our family, I must admit that on the Christmases that the boys aren’t with us, they are missed terribly. A traditional Christmas is all about the kids, from the myth of Santa, to stockings, to waking up early to unwrap presents, to playing with new toys. Nearly every Christmas movie you watch has some element of Christmas that focuses on children.

If you are spending Christmas without your children due to divorce, I’m here to tell you that if you let it, it will send you into a tailspin. You’ll start to feel emptiness, regret, and you’ll be miserable this Christmas. You’ll get angry at the “other” house or your ex-spouse, and you’ll be jealous that they get to spend Christmas with the kids. Not a great way to spend the Christmas holiday, is it?

I’m not an expert on the subject, but I want to encourage anyone who is going through this during the Christmas season. There have been some things that we’ve done in our home to adjust, and to make Christmas special even when it isn’t our year to have the children on December 25th. On the years we don’t have the boys for Christmas, we always have to plan our family Christmas for another time. Depending on where Christmas falls, we will usually do this the weekend before or after December 25th. We work hard to make sure that this day feels special to them, even though it may not be December 25th when we give our gifts. We build the anticipation. We make it exciting. This year, my mother- and father-in-law got into the act, and made a huge deal out of “our Christmas”, which happened to be on December 20th this year. That really made it feel like a special day to us and to the boys. It really is important to start some new traditions like this to make sure your children understand that you will continue make this time of year special for them. If you try hard enough, you’ll be able to identify ways to do this in your situation.

On the bigger picture, there are some other perspective adjustments that you can make to help you if you share your children with another home for Christmas. First of all, don’t get into a competition when it comes to buying gifts. Don’t go into debt to try to outdo their other parent. Trust me, the kids will pick up on that, and eventually could start to use it against you. Also, if the other home is able to buy more expensive gifts than you, the worst thing you can do is dump this on your children. Saying things like “well, it must be nice for them to afford that”, or “if I wasn’t paying them all this child support or alimony, I could buy you that too” is a sure-fire way to make your children feel guilty about the gifts they get from the other house. It is a sure-fire way to make sure that when they’re older and are able to choose who to come visit on Christmas, it will be with reluctance that they choose you. The bottom line is that no matter the circumstances, no matter how painful it is, you must get above it and be happy for your children for the Christmas that they have in the other house.

Another thing that may help is to remember that there are plenty of families this Christmas who would give anything just to hear their child’s voice this Christmas. You may have to wish your kids a Merry Christmas over the phone, but some parents aren’t able to wish their children Merry Christmas at all because they’ve passed away. Remembering this will help you cherish that phone call on Christmas day, and will help you maintain a perspective that keeps you thankful and grateful for what you do have, even if it isn’t “traditional” or “normal”.

Lastly, we don’t make it a secret on this blog about our belief in Jesus Christ. If you read the Bible, you see that Christmas itself is about a child who came to earth as a baby. That same baby grew into a man, and ultimately died on a cross, separated from His Father. Keeping this in mind reminds you that your Heavenly Father knows how you feel. He knows what it is like to let go of His child. If you have to let go of your children this Christmas, do it with the understanding that the One who created you had to let go too. Just as with Jesus and His Father, the hope of Christmas is wrapped in reconciliation. Keep that hope alive this Christmas for your children, no matter the situation.

The “D” Word

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Posted by Dave

D Block

As I sit here typing this, they’ve just wheeled my wife Hope back for her hysterectomy. The healing from years of struggling with infertility begins for her. Her post from several weeks ago, The M Word, chronicled this journey. She has been hesitant to share her story at times, and understandably so. If there is anything I’ve learned since we’ve been together, women who struggle with infertility deal with a deep sense of hurt and loss. Sometimes it is painful to uncover that, like when you go to the women’s clinic and you’re surrounded by baby and parenting magazines. When Hope and I began discussing marriage several years ago, I told her that I wanted to be there for her to walk through the pain that she still experienced. I had no clue what that meant then, but I now realize that the past six weeks have been that time.

If anyone can have a favorite letter of the alphabet, “D” is my favorite. Lot’s of important things in my life have happened that start with D. David is my first name, and David is my favorite person from the Bible. D is the first letter of divorce, and this seemingly negative word has shaped and changed my life. D is the first letter of my job description and the most honorable title I’ve ever held: DAD. God has blessed me with the opportunity to raise three sons, something that changed the course of my life. I don’t take the responsibility lightly, understanding that God has chosen me to be the one to launch them into manhood.

When Hope and I were dating, we waited three months before we introduced her to my boys. We didn’t take this lightly. Deep down, I wanted to get to know her character to see if I wanted her around my sons. I never take off the “Dad Hat”, so I knew that the woman I chose to have in my life would be responsible for shaping the lives of my sons. I’ll never forget the day that she met my boys. That was the day I knew I wanted her to be my wife. She was a natural with each of them, and over the next several months their response to her confirmed that she was perfectly capable of raising children. Her body didn’t work properly to give her children of her own, yet her motherly instincts are evident in all that she does.

So, not only was I chosen to be a Dad, God also chose me to be Hope’s husband. Meaning that her struggles become my struggles. Meaning that her pain becomes my pain. How do you find the place inside yourself to both be a Dad, and support the one you love who wasn’t able to have children? How do you identify with someone who desperately wanted children but couldn’t have them, and know that you were chosen to be a Dad? These questions have swirled around in my head many times. For me, I’ve discovered the answer to these questions. Another D word: DEVOTION. It is impossible for me to identify with the struggle of infertility. It is impossible for me to put myself in the shoes of someone who desperately wanted children but couldn’t have them. It IS possible for me to be devoted to her.

Being devoted means being committed, it doesn’t mean I have to come up with all of the answers. It isn’t my job to be the “solutionist”, it is my job to be her companion. Sometimes all it takes is just being there.

The “M” Word

/ Hope and Dave / 1 Comment

Mom Blocks

Posted by Hope

Why would I take my pain public? I am not the only one to face infertility. Others live with the hurt I have, and much much worse. You may read this and wonder how or why I’d say the things I say. I’m positive if you were given this same set of circumstances, you’d be a superstar and rock this job like a champ! Me, I’m like the fat kid in gym class that is horribly uncomfortable in the spandex shorts and undersized tee! It’s gonna just kind of hang out there, y’all.

So many ways to make a family in this day and time. With technology and science, there are so many ways we can blend under one roof. Let’s not forget those who chose to be defined as a family without children. I received a reaction to my statement that Dave’s boys “are not mine” in my previous post. I will expand more on that point in a later post, but for now, know that there is a healthy understanding and respect for the title “Mom”. In their life, that position is filled.

On Friday, October 10th, my doctor sat across from me and explained that due to endometriosis I need to have a hysterectomy to address the horrible pain that is plaguing me. Since I couldn’t have children anyway, to him, it made sense to move this direction. This news sent me into a tailspin for days. I couldn’t think, sleep, eat or process a rational thought without applying extreme effort. I have exactly two weeks left to process the loss of my reproductive system. There is part of me that has been begging for this day for decades. Then, there is the woman deep down inside that is grieving terribly. You see, I wanted to have children.

I’d like to think that this means there’s a countdown to the sadness and when I emerge from that hospital on December 3rd that I will have left behind all of the pain. Gone will be the days of slipping into a fantasy about what my own child would have looked like, been named, what their voice would sound like and what they would want to be when they grew up. Left behind would be the dream of them running to me with a skinned knee and being the first person to celebrate moments of discovery with. I romanticize the idea of motherhood alright. In my heart, it is sacred. In my intellect and experience, I know better. I’ve watched the reality from a distance and laughed at the comedy of my fantasy. They talk back, ruin good furniture, change your plans and sometimes end up blaming you for all the things that go wrong in their life. Inevitably, that would’ve been my kid. The Alanis Morrisette song “Ironic” comes to mind when I think about the reality of how my whole Mommy journey would’ve gone.

The fact is that I am more than my body says I am. I have more than I will ever need. I have three little boys to impact with my love. I can be an example to young women in my sphere of influence, can speak into their destinies, provide counsel, guidance and become a “mother” to many. This is truth. But there are days, like today, when the reminder of that tiny package with my DNA on it will not be handed to me. That brings me back to the dark of the soul. The ache that hurts into my bones. Its weight can feel crushing and leave me physically spent.

Supernatural things happen in this kind of grief. It is only here, in hurt like today, that I can be reminded of what is needed to get me off of the floor. It is only by the strength of God that I can walk through a day like this knowing it is just a day and that the hurt will pass and life will move forward and I will be stronger tomorrow. I can allow myself these moments to purge the pain and then exhale, straighten once again and continue the march.

What awaits me? How long will it take to heal? Will I change? Well, I guess that remains to be seen. For now, I’ll take each moment as it comes. While I wait, I worship. Regardless of my pain, regardless of my preference, I worship.

Family UnPlanning

/ Hope and Dave / 2 Comments

Posted by Hope

Family planning is taught early in today’s public education arenas. Beginning in grade school, we learn the function of our sex organs and how they operate (…are supposed to operate). I don’t recall my teachers discussing any of the things that can disrupt fertilization or that conception is actually a complete timing miracle. My sisters and I were raised “not to”. Heavy petting could lead to pregnancy and dad would kill us. So, don’t. I spent most of my young adult life casually planning when my children would make their appearance. It didn’t go as I had planned.

I was told in the second year of my marriage, at the age of 27, that IF I wanted children, I’d better begin trying. After three months of negative tests, I started asking questions, then plunged headlong into two years of fertility treatments. I daydreamed of life as a mom and looked forward to my own brand of Brady Bunch chaos (funny, they were a stepfamily too).
Yes dear friends, I prayed, believed, had faith, fasted, had anointing oil poured on me and prophecies spoken over me all believing for complete healing. I broke curses, renounced unknown sin, repented until I felt bad for feeling human and still was not healed. Finally, after the last negative test result, I became suicidal.

That afternoon, I spent my time thinking about my death. I was shaken sober by my soul screaming that my body did not determine my value. I got up off of the couch, walked into the nursery that I had prepared and gathered up all of the parenting magazines, baby toys and a few baby books and threw them into the garbage. Shaken by the realization that I had sunk to that depth, I spent the next few months dissecting my life with God and made changes in my warped understanding of what a woman was supposed to BE. Through years of building an intimate relationship with God, He tenderly addressed my hurt. Don’t get me wrong, it still hurts. It hurts often, but in time, living with the hurt became easier by getting to know the God who walks through it with me. Even in this special place, it never addressed the big question……WHY?

Commuting home one day, I was pouring my heart out to God in worship. I was out of words, out of prayer, out of strength. As I sang aloud the words to the song that came on, I began listening to what I was singing, “You deserve it all. And I give everything. I have no intention of holding anything back from you.” I broke. The dam burst. I cried from the floor of my soul. As I emptied my grief onto my dashboard and cried with no sense of propriety, I realized in that moment, the WHY didn’t matter anymore. In that moment, the need to understand was of no consequence. I sat in the strong presence of the Lord, knowing that one day, I would understand it all, but it would be diminished in the light of eternity. I embraced the moment and allowed Him to replace my deep need, with Himself. I felt peace wash over me in that moment and the next few days following. Up until that time I felt like God owed me an explanation. If I was going to continue to give my life to Him, it seemed like a fair deal to ask Him to show me why the “Giver of Life” had CHOSEN not to give life to me. But when I was out of fight and in the raw broken place of hurt, it just didn’t even matter anymore. In the breathless place of grief, all I needed was Him. For my very life. And He responded, big.

Years later, as my first marriage died, God reminded me of that place as I navigated separation and divorce. I lived in a broken place for a season again, but this time, with the knowledge and awareness of His faithfulness and sovereignty. I eventually healed and found love again. My second husband has three sons. I am now a step mom. Many believe that I now have my “children”. Although they provide me with an inexhaustible opportunity to love, they are not mine. I am confronted with that regularly. Living in this delicate balance of vulnerability and selflessness has been a challenge. I have failed, but I have conquered too. I lose ground and gain it on a weekly basis. But the dance is so beautiful.

Sold Out

/ Hope and Dave / Leave a comment

sold-out3

Hope and I decided to start this blog in the middle of September. We set up the site, started a Twitter account for our blog, and were all set to get started. The following week, an opportunity came up for Hope that had an impact on her first post, and will have an impact on our family for a long time. She mentioned it here, and I want to use it as an example of what I believe the secret is to making a remarriage and a blended family work. That secret is simply this: be sold out.

We’ve now been married for a year and a half. It seems like time has gone into warp speed, but I can look back and see where we’ve made little decisions and big decisions that have had a positive impact on where our marriage and family is headed. Decisions like taking the time each week to sit around the table as a family and just talk. All five of us. Decisions like getting involved in a church after we moved to a new area. When Hope made the decision to go to the Stepmom Conference, it made an impact both on me and the children. That kind of decision sends a message: “I want to learn how to do this right, whatever it takes.” Making decisions like that ensures that there is positive momentum, which is important when negative forces come into play, and we all know that they do.

Being sold out to your spouse and family isn’t some new idea. This doesn’t only work for remarriages. We know that is how you make a first marriage work too. There are different dynamics in a step or blended family, but the principles are still the same. That being said, they are more difficult to implement in a remarriage because of loyalties to the children, the relationship with the “exes”, and all of the complications/drama that come from divorce. Hope and I have learned that we have to make each other the priority first, be sold out to each other, and that our relationship sets the tone for the entire family. If the children see any disharmony or disunity between her and I, the consequences of that would be immediate and damaging. That doesn’t mean that you have to agree all of the time, it means that when you disagree, you do it in a discussion that takes place without the children around. You keep the emotions out of it, you let the dust settle. Being sold out to each other and to your family means putting your desire to be right aside, making a commitment to come together to discuss the situation.

My mom passed away two weeks ago. Because of our custody arrangement, and the circumstances surrounding her death, Hope ended up being the first from our home to have any personal contact with the boys after her death. I was four hours away, and had been gone for nearly a week while my mom was on life support. Hope became the one responsible for picking the boys up after school and riding four hours with them as they dealt with their grandmother’s death. This is a tough situation for a step-mother to be placed in, yet she handled it perfectly. A lesser woman would have backed down, would’ve said “you need to drive home to get them, I can’t handle this.” Never once did I sense any fear from her, she remained sold out to the boys and to our family.

Being sold out to the family means being placed in difficult circumstances and handling it with grace. It means putting the fear aside and conquering whatever the situation is without letting your feelings get in the way. If you are struggling with your remarriage or your blended family because you operate in protective mode, it’s time to let your guard down. The only way to make it work is to make yourself vulnerable to your spouse, your children, and your step-children. When you’ve been divorced, this is tough because you’ve already been burned. Don’t let the scars from the past keep you from looking forward and seeing what is in store. Be sold out completely to making it work, and that will go a long way toward making sure that this time around you get it right.