This has been quite the month. My will, resilience, and faith have been tested quite a few times as I have struggled through, but as my brother pointed out - so far my success rate of surviving hard times has been 100%.
Little reminders here and there that I have a tribe out there, that God does watch out for me keeps me putting one step in front of the other. My life is tricky, often exhausting, but not impossible. I am grateful for family that cares, for friends that take time out of their daily lives to serve me, and an unfailing companion that hates to see me struggling, even as he struggles too.
After my jaw incident where an infection raged through me, I was out for an entire week during a highly critical time. Following that we came to the realization that we would most likely not find a renter for our home. Looking over everything I couldn't help but walk around in despair, thinking of what idiots we were to have faith in something we just were hoping against hope would come together, and decided to put one foot in front of the other. I was so blessed to call my friend and ask if she had any positions available, and luckily she did. So back to work I was going.
The day before our move I completely threw my back out. I was in so much pain but popped enough pain pills to probably murder my liver sufficiently, and then put one foot in front of the other as we tried to pack up our house. I wasn't enough. My husband wasn't enough. But then my brother, Jonathan, and a friend showed up. Then I called another friend, and soon we were on our way. Walking around the house I felt so lost, overwhelmed and quite a sense of despair. Did we make the biggest mistake doing it this way? I had felt so calm and ready to plow forward and felt like things were going to work out. I sat down to pay my tithing and took a huge breath. I felt like an idiot paying that much when I knew things were going to be really tight if we couldn't find a renter, but I sent it over praying that God would accept my offering and help us too.
Then I realized I was bribing God, which is NOT how tithing works. And He probably realized that too. And He probably rejected my offering because our prayers haven't been answered.
Two days after we moved I started a job teaching preschool. I'm going to be honest. It was one of the top 5 worst weeks of my life. I keep walking in and handing my sweet baby over to strangers as he sobbed broken hearted on the floor. My back is in so much pain that I come home wanting to collapse, but instead need to tend to all the needs and errands here at home. I find myself completely drained by the needs of 12-16 4 year olds by the time I get home and have little left over for my own family. They are loud, and unrelenting with their activity, screaming, fighting, and I feel overwhelmed and not happy to face the day. I beg for help from other co-workers and usually am met with sighs of annoyance. They don't come. So I battle it out. Today as the kids ran around me screaming and I tried to get them under control one of the other teachers came over and "helped" by telling me class they were too loud. She left and then they returned to the cacophony of screaming. I have tried ALL my tactics, but they are 4 and lack self control, so I keep trying for 8 hours straight.
I'm not sure why I am in this position, aside from my own stupidity in buying a house and assuming somehow things would work out like they usually did. BUT laying down the negativity is getting harder and harder. Each day I'm going to try and start fresh. To put aside my feelings of the day before and look for something good instead of allowing my pain and frustration to fester.
On another completely separate note, I have been thinking a lot about FB and how I have wasted so much time on there and what a distraction it can be. I want to get back to blogging. To journal in a more meaningful way. Few people read this, so it creates a safe zone to catch up on my thoughts, but doesn't cut those I love off from my life.
