“How are you guys doing?”
Nearly everyone who asks that question is well-intentioned.
They know about what our family has gone through for the past five months. They
genuinely want to know that James has found a job, that we’re out of this
dreadful holding pattern, that things have worked out for good.
I can’t help but dread answering them. We have no answers.
Everything – literally everything – has fallen through for James. We don’t have
a next step. I wonder every day how long we can keep on keeping on. I certainly
didn’t think we’d make it this far. I didn’t want to have to make it this far.
But we are still here. “Because of the Lord’s great love, we
are not consumed.” God hasn’t shown up the way I hoped. I can’t say we’ve seen
any crazy miracles. The whispers I’ve heard from God have been just that:
whispers. So whispery, in fact, that it’s hard to be certain I’ve heard
anything at all.
Professionally, I feel inadequate in every way. I’m not
feeling much better about homeschooling. Or running. Or general fitness. Or
housecleaning. When James’ job went away, it took more than our income with it.
God has been here. He has sustained us. But it still sucks.
That should be a verse in the Bible, I think.
We are in a stage with Violet where she questions everything.
EVERYTHING.
She wants to be touching me at all times. She’s bothered by
things that shouldn’t bother anyone. She definitely doesn’t trust me to act in
her interests. The other day, she mistakenly thought Caleb had taken all the
chicken nuggets, and she threw herself across the table and tried to grab them,
screaming like a hyena the whole time. I had her full plate in my hand, just on
the other side of the bar, but she couldn’t see them and didn’t want to. And
when we went to walk at the park on a breezy Sunday afternoon, she cried for
half an hour. The wind, she was certain, was going to “bwow her away.” I shushed
her. I reminded her that I would never keep her in a situation where she was in
danger of being blown away. I pointed out that other kids her age were playing
happily and not blowing away. I asked her if she trusted me, and she shook her
head “no”.
She has no reason not to trust me, but maybe she’s learned
from her mama. She likes calm air, and I like a stable income and medical
benefits. I get where she’s coming from, but as her mama, I’m sad that she
wasted sunshine and warm air sobbing because of a little breeze. What a wasted
hour!
I’m trying not to waste this hour by staring at the bank
account balance and trying to figure out in my head how it will all work out.
There’s literally no human possibility of redemption in this circumstance, so
it will have to come from God. Today I soaked up the sunshine and prayed that
God has a plate for me just on the other side of the bar, whatever that might be.
