Single mom shares her thoughts about life, love and loss. It's an emotional journey, but it's healing.
When I was 15, I worked in the guidance office at the high school I attended. In my spare time, I would spend hours in the career center library, where they stocked college catalogs for the most popular colleges, universities and communities colleges in the state. A few were from out-of-state. I remember wanting to go to Oregon to study Architecture. It only took me a minute to realize I couldn’t move that far away from my mom without putting a huge strain on my umbilical cord.
It was about this time that I began hatching a plan to get out of school. I tricked my parents into signing the consent form for me to take the California High School Proficiency Exam — which back then was available to students 15 and older. Students who pass are legally allowed to leave high school with the equivalent of a diploma once they turn 16 or finish their sophomore year. Of course, I passed, and after my 1st semester of my junior year, I left high school… much to the surprise and disappointment of my parents.
I did go on to college though… but it was too soon. I wish I had known then that kids are not necessarily ready for college straight out of high school. I certainly wasn’t ready at 16 years old. I thought I knew what I wanted to do, but I was still so young that I hadn’t been able to experience life and all the wonderful things in it. After a couple semesters of struggling, I quit school and began working. I was 19 when I went back to college… this time knowing what I wanted to do but not having the discipline to see it through. After three wonderful semesters at a private art school in San Francisco, I gave it up because of an interfering engagement that ended up going nowhere.
My plans have never quite worked the way I had envisioned them, which is why to this day, I hate planning for the future. Sure… it’s nice to daydream and wow, the things I imagine. But time and time again, I’m disappointed and let down. Oh, the list of things I have visualized, began and failed to accomplish. The harshest reality came when I lost my dream home… the one dream bigger than all the others — to not just become a homeowner, but to pick a lot and design your own home from the ground up. After I lost that home six weeks before escrow was to close, along with my marriage (which was much less of a loss than the home, I’m afraid)… I discovered something.
First, and most importantly, I rediscovered God after a 15-year absence. On my knees I came home to welcoming arms and a loving embrace. In the year that followed, I then discovered that my plans never worked out for me because they were not God’s plans for my life. Some things I lost in the past may be a part of His plan for my future, such as owning a home, but it will all happen in His time.
I have a hard time remembering this, so I’m always bummed when things don’t go my way. In the last six months, I saw plans for a single mom’s ministry and two of my top career choices go down the drain after an injury to my wrist. Even with freelance writing, my hand hurts after a day of typing. I’ve come to the point where I’ve realized writing will not sustain me forever. I also find it’s time to admit to myself that there’s so much more I could be doing for myself and my kids.
So, I’m doing it. I’m going back to school in the Fall, as I have planned for more than a year now. Waiting had a lot to do with the divorce and financial aid, but I’m ready and excited. I’m trying not to form expectations, though. I’m also trying to remind myself that I can’t make firm plans about what will happen after I complete the program I’m going to attempt. I’m going to remain flexible and prayerful, believing that God will lay my path out for me. I believe He has already shown me the way and I’m walking towards it, but I also know first hand how straight a path looks until you get to that very end and see a 90 degree turn.
One step at a time. I’m enrolled and next month I’ll be registered. We’ll take it from there, the Lord and myself. For now, I know what I want and what I am physically capable of at this point — to get back to my original love. Before writing, before law, before being a mommy was a twinkle in my eye. A love I discovered in an A-frame cabin on Bass Lake in Minnesota during a cross-country vacation with my grandparents when I was 14… the same trip I discovered the truth about my father’s suicide. And only now looking back can I see just how life-altering that trip was almost 20 years ago.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take.” Proverbs 3:5-6
Lately I’ve noticed that I’m being leery of my suitors and their intentions. If you know anything about me, you know I do have good reason for that; however, I am starting to wonder if I’m being a bit unfair. I’m striking them out before they get up to bat — or worse — judging whether they’re even fit to enter the ballpark.
Stupid baseball analogies.
I don’t want to be single forever, but I’m still scared to let this season of singleness end. How do I put my heart into prayer for something when I have so much fear over it actually happening? I end up having to pray that the Lord takes away my fears of having my dreams come true. There is something wrong with that, I’m certain.
I watched a movie today where a young lady told it how it is — relationships are messy. Someone always gets hurt. Been there, done that. But really, who hasn’t? While most people dust themselves off and start over, I sit right where I fell and begin to wonder if it’s worth it to get up.
I am scared to love again. I don’t know if my heart can stand to be left again.
The Bible says that when two people are married, they are joined as one. When one person leaves, it rips a hole so wide and ragged in the heart of the deserted that it seems irreparable. Even once healing has begun, it’s easy for the ragged edges to catch and tear on something. A year and a half later I still don’t feel whole though I have come so, so far.
A new relationship isn’t going to heal me, I know that. Only Christ can make me whole… and it will take a lifetime I’m sure. I don’t want to wait until I’m fully healed to let another man into my life, but with that said, I suppose it’s going to take one hell of a man to understand how hard it is going to be for me to trust and how hard he is going to need to work to earn that trust.
I am going to need a man who can accept me as a broken human being… who can accept that he can’t change me and won’t try… who will point me to who CAN change me… and who will fight for my love — because I don’t think I’m willing to accept any less than someone who can prove they are in it forever.
I do want to love again, but I don’t know how to get my head and my heart into agreement about whether it’s time. All I can do is pray and trust that God is taking care of my love story. It will happen, in His time, whether that’s now… or later.
Meanwhile, I’m trying to be fair to all the wonderful men out there by giving them the benefit of the doubt. If someone is willing to break through the gates and brave enough to step up to bat, I’ll let God be the umpire, the judge, the jury. I know He wants me to play ball… I feel it. He’s pushing me out there, but I just need to find the courage to leave the dugout.
“I prayed to the Lord, and he answered me. He freed me from all my fears.” Psalm 34:4
