Tuesday, August 1st –
I keep waiting for the hands to be taken off my mouth so that I can speak but more hands keep piling on top of each other; I am silenced, alone with my thoughts. I keep holding on to the feeling there is movement in this place, that fate or God is playing a hand in this crap shoot situation. Hope that a providential moment is building and all I have to do is hang on just a little bit longer.
But then, I am filled with fear. Fear of the unknown but mostly that which I already know. The plans I have to lay out for any given outcome.
People are uncomfortable. They text me asking whats going on but they already know and they are sick of it. Just so you know, I am sick of it too. I am so, so tired. Does anyone actually believe I choose this? Choose this daily fight? That I don’t want peace and laughter in my life? I have been called a liar to my face. I have been the one solely to blame because the truth is unbearable.
Last night I wrote a beautiful letter to my family asking to come home. Now, stop right there. Stop thinking you know me! My family is a forest and my home is a camp I went to as a child.
Wednesday, August 2nd
Last night I stopped writing because the words would not flow; it was not yet time. In my heart I knew I was waiting on something bigger than myself. My instincts told me to be still, to be quiet long enough to hear the water coming. The words would flow, but not in my time. I saved what I wrote last night because I thought I would be coming back to it to finish later but my moment is now; not last night when my heart was breaking.
Where does my hope come from? Who is holding my heart together? The day after the incident reality set in. I was no longer walking in a fog going through the motions. I thought my world was over and in a desperate attempt for immediate answers ( the curse of my generation, instant gratification) I paid for a tarot card reading. I had no faith in the cards but I did it anyway. I apologized to God and dove in, allowing a deck of cards dictate which direction my life was going in.
But today, I felt forgiven for misplacing my faith. This entire incident I have felt stronger than I would have normally been. I have felt my heart being cradled in the hands of someone bigger than any circumstance this life can dish out. I sense something coming, something beautiful and this particular incident had to happen to bring it about.
I realized something while talking to my therapist. My oldest son was in the session because he was at the center of the incident. My internal struggle was based on feeling like I had to choose between my oldest and my husband. But I do not have to choose either of them because I choose them both. My fifteen year old has had a rough go at life so his anger and resentment is understandable, those feelings were validated. He left the session angry because he heard a truth spoken he did not like. That he can not blame everyone around him for his actions and with that said, he is not to take all the blame.
This evening we went for an orientation at a new school. Dash (what I will call my oldest to protect his privacy) is a square peg that can’t be shoved into a round hole that is America’s school system. This new school is half independent study, half on campus learning with teachers on campus to help with tutoring, gather the curriculum, and to monitor work progress. Before the orientation we had dinner and talked and talked more on the drive home. Before today his heart was so closed off it was enslaved to its anger and bitterness. But I saw all that melt away as we made plans for his future. He opened his mind to family therapy and I saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes when we discussed a game plan we had to follow in order for him to be accepted into the military when he turns 18.
* After putting the kids to bed tonight I stumbled across this blog post I will share below. It is funny how God speaks to you at exactly the right moment.
No matter what happens later down the road I am holding on to the hope that we will be on the exact path we need to be on. Without hope in our lives, there is nothing to anchor our hearts to and we drift aimlessly across a volatile ocean. This is the providential moment I promised myself; the one that was promised to me when God picked my shattered heart up off the floor and told me to walk.