Sarah Laughed (Laura Cried)

When God told Abraham he was going to bless his wife, Sarah, with a son in her old age, Abraham must have thought he’d heard wrong.  “Just bless Ishmael,” he responded.  And God had to spell it out more clearly: “No, I’m giving you another son, this one by your wife, Sarah.”  Abraham thought what God promised was impossible, so he gave God a pass.  “This will be good enough, God.  I don’t want to get my hopes up.”   Sarah overheard the conversation, and she laughed at the absurdity.  She was ninety years old, after all; she was well past the time frame for God to show up.  Still, God made good on His promise.  By that time next year, ninety-year-old Sarah had given birth to a son.

This is the story I found when I Googled doubt and God.  We visited the daycare today…the only daycare that will pick Eli up from half-day kindergarten.  It happens to be the same daycare I was so overjoyed to rescue Eli from five years ago.  I knew I’d never go back.  As August 10 tightens the noose around my neck, I’ve pretty much given up hope that God will provide a way for me to stay home.  I mean, there’s optimism and then there’s stupidity.  Those little blessings that happened earlier in the year – an unexpected paycheck, and then another – they stopped long ago.  The confirmations I prayed for – a blogging job, a writing contact – they have ceased happening, too.  Even the joy I felt about writing the advent calendar is just…gone.  I feel like I got one chance to stay home with my kids and I wasted the time trying to make it permanent, trying to follow where I thought God was leading.  I can’t help but wonder if I misinterpreted God back in December.  He gave me a little extra time at home; my mistake was loving it too much.  And so lately, my prayer has been more along the lines of: If I have to go back to work, please just provide good care for my kids.  And now this…this place.  Will they be safe there?  Probably.  Will they eat good food?  No.  Will Caleb be academically challenged by the teacher who has never taught four-year-olds before?  Nope.  Will Violet nap?  Not a chance.  I know what is coming and it has two –l’s at the end of it. 

I wonder…am I pulling an Abraham?  Am I looking at circumstances (2.5 weeks) and thinking God decided to go a different direction?  Am I giving him a pass on the big miracle?  Am I doubting Him and settling for second best?  Or am I being a realist?  James says I need to find my way to reality.  It seems God wants to prove him right. 

I just don’t know.  I have worked this over in my mind night after night; I seem to find peace when I decide to pull my retirement and finance the next five years.  But then James enters the equation, and the bottom line is that he won’t be happy unless I am working outside the home, too.  Because all that matters to him is not working…and sooner rather than later.  Retirement.  The collateral damage to the rest of us doesn’t enter his equation.  Perhaps I should act on what I feel God leading anyway, but I'm not strong enough to fight that force.  When we started this experiment, I told James that I believed God would provide, and he agreed that if we were really following God, yes, He would.  And here we are in July, and by all accounts, it seems that He hasn’t.  At least not financially.  The kids and I have made great strides emotionally and spiritually, but that doesn't change the balance in the checkbook.  So maybe we weren’t following God?  Of course I don’t know what He’s doing in heaven…I only know that on earth I cry so much that the boys ask why I am crying NOW, I can barely eat, and I’m missing out on my last weeks with my kids because my heart hurts too bad to let it feel anymore.  I wouldn't be so angry if they were going back to Pam, but they’re not.  She was taken away, too.

I’m so afraid that this year will set Caleb on a course I don’t want him to take.  I firmly believe that negative school experiences damage a kid, and I don’t want that for his exceedingly sensitive spirit.  I am just now getting us into a rhythm after the glorious disruption of Violet’s birth, and now we’re going to send everyone into a tailspin again.  I feel like I’ve wasted my year of turning off the TV, making food from scratch, and relentlessly pursuing God.  In the scheme of things, what does any of it matter if we go back to what we were before? 

And I’m so afraid that if I miss this chance (was there a chance?), I’ll set the course for the rest of my life.  I will always be working a job or two that I hate, doing what has to be done while ignoring what is best for my children.  I do know this: I am out of costs to cut, I am out of resources, and certainly I don’t have anyone to help me.  So if I did hear right and God does want me to stay at home, He is going to have to speak so loudly that I can’t mistake it.  And he’s going to have to hit my husband over the head.  And maybe give him a promotion he isn’t supposed to get. 

So I don’t know what to do.  The anger and hurt have hijacked my heart.  Do I hope and believe what I thought God said?  Or do I assume I heard wrong, turn my heart from God, and go on with my life devoid of trust?  Sarah may have laughed at the absurdity, but I am crying at the impossibility.  And I hope I'm not selling God short.