For the record, I dont think it mattered how old I was when it happened. I've been told of all kinds of studies that suggest adult kids adjust to it better than small kids, and the long term effects on and adult aren't as great...or something. But I, for one, am not up for debating who's experience is worse...a 4 yr old? or...well, someone, let's say, in the last year of their twenties. As it stands, for another month, I am in that year. At any age, it is completely out of the child's control, and that, in its self is a struggle!
Before "the event that happened with my parents that I still find so ridiculous I shall not speak it out loud, ever, to anyone," I fancied myself to be quite mature, emotionally stable, super self-confident, pretty...well, yes, darn it, I had my stuff together!! But when this life altering, faith shattering, God questioning moment hit, there really was nothing I could do to fix it. It is not a respecter of person...age or life status. Even with a cute husband, perfectly wonderful kids, amazing friends, a nice house in the suburbs, it sucked!! Hurt so bad it knocked me to the ground in a way that made me feel like I might never get back up...and even if I could, why would I? It's crazy, the giant hold on me the pain and hurt had taken. Well, really, it hadn't taken hold of me at all, I had been quick to turn myself right in; to latch the chains of anger, self-absorption, and despair right around my own wrists. I was happy to throw my hissy fit that things were absolutely not going the way I thought they should, and I hated it!! It wasn't even until I started to rise from the egomaniacal fog I so easily ushered in that I began to see how tightly I was bound, how much freedom and life I had lost.
It occurred to me one morning that it had been a month since I had taken my kids to school. A month!! Actually, I'm quite certain I wasn't out of bed before they were eating lunch...hey, their lunches??....how had they been getting lunches in their lunch boxes!?! And where had the food come from that went inside? Forget cleaning, I'm already the world's worst house wife, so how was it that we had not developed a serious mice infestation, nor did the bathrooms require hazmat suits, and how in the world did everyone still have clean socks!?
I also had about 17 unreplied emails, 3 missed coffee dates, and luckily for me, the kindest, most gracious friends. I have some of the most truly, incredible friends. The kind that say they'll pray for you, and then actually do. Friends who send you kind, encouraging words and powerful, on-point scriptures, aren't offended if you don't reply more than, "thank you," and still keep sending them!!
One evening, a few months in, as I was reading one of those very scriptures, Psalms 139:1-18; (David's prayer to God about how intimately God knows every detail of him, inside and out.) I looked up and saw my sweet husband, smiling at me...and folding laundry. Yup, there I was sitting on my phone, in my own self-pity, for months on end, but there he was, being wonderful, keeping the world spinning on its axis, and still loving me through it. Every single second. In the far too frequent seconds that I hadn't been the kindest person to him, he was there, on my side, picking me up when I didn't want to get back up. And at that moment God breathed in my heart..."I do know you, inside and out. And I knew you'd be right here, where you are today. And I know him, inside and out. And thats why he's right here, right by your side, today. Trust him. Trust Me!" Well, ok then!!
Now, I'm not saying all the hurt, disappointment, and pain disappeared. It's still a process, a daily journey. It's ups and downs of one day, "ok, I recognize it is what it is." and another day, "Nope! That's unacceptable!" But in that moment, I knew I now have to choose to take steps forward, stop looking back, and let go of the things I can't fix or change. I'm learning I can't be in control of everything, all the time...and, for me, that's pretty tough. But I'm trusting that the God of the universe, who loved me enough to take care of little details, like a man who folds laundry, makes lunches, and loves me anyway, also cares about the big stuff in my life too. He hasn't let me fall without helping me get back up. Even in the darkest depths of my pain, He's pulled me back on solid ground. And for that, I am learning, ever so slightly, to trust and even, rarely, enjoy the fact that there are things in my happy, little life that are completely out of my control.
