As I am in the process of a new chapter in my life, I believe that in attending this conference I would greatly benefit from learning more about what it means to live a better story. Watching my story unfold around me without any real intentional purpose or action on my part makes heavy my heart. I could use all the added encouragement I could get as I pursue new endeavors! Of course it also makes my heart leap to know that much of it will be personally delivered by Donald Miller! Well, here goes! Enjoy!
The last few years of my life have been a roller coaster ride to say the least. I think it all started when I decided to sell my home, sell most of my belongings, and head to the west coast. It was rather impulsive, without nearly enough planning going into the venture. Truly the writings of Donald Miller spurred much of my inspiration. While reading any of his books I have moments where it feels necessary to put them down briefly, breathe a big sigh, and ask myself where he has been my whole life. Then there was the belief that God was calling me there. Today I have to honestly look at the situation and laugh at the idea that God might actually have wanted me to sell everything I owned besides what would fit in a 4x8 Uhaul, have a hitch put on my Toyota Yaris and head for Portland in January with my daughter, and without a job. Pedal to the floor, cruising through the mountains in blowing snow, going 25 miles per hour. Ha! Oh how I have deceived myself. Then there’s the fact that once there I went out one lonely night, traded 4 years of abstinence for one night of passionate lust, and conceived a child with a complete stranger. You can pick your jaw up from the floor now. Yes, this is a true story. It’s part of my story. For far too long afterwards I lived in shame and self-contempt. My next act of impulsiveness, driven by shame, led me back to the Midwest. Many lonely dark months followed. Adoption crossed my mind. I wondered if I would ever be able to love this child. Then I began to feel him move within me, and I knew. He was mine. He was a part of me regardless of how he got here. I still had days filled with doubt and fear, but as my womb grew, hope grew with it. I remember my first thought the moment I held Romeo in my arms. “How could I have ever had a negative thought about any of this? He’s an absolute miracle.”
My life began a slow, steady progression in a new direction from that point on. For the first 8 months of his life Romeo screamed incessantly, with colic we all presumed. Amazingly my love for him never faltered. I would hold him in my arms for 3 hours bouncing him, patting his back, speaking words of love. Then he would finally fall into a deep sleep and I would lie him down and plan to begin the day’s housework. Until a glance at the clock told me it was already 2am. How God must have held me in His arms all those months. Looking back now I realize I would not be sane today had I been going it all alone.
Time has gone on, and I’ve spent it all doing a very thorough moral inventory. I believe only God can take something that felt so tragic, and unfold it all into something so beautiful. Now I am once again looking forward and wondering what direction I will go from here. Lately I seem to have settled into a stagnant swamp in at least one area of my life. I have a job, I love my children, and I’m growing through counsel every week. I’ve even joined a single mother’s support group! Yet that quiet whisper has returned to me saying, “There must be more to life than this.” Sure I’ve been striving towards emotional maturity and healing. Growing love and stability within my home have been a primary focus. However, change is on the horizon. I’ll soon be applying to a graduate program back on the west coast where I want to study to be a counselor. The cost of living in that region makes me wonder if it’s even possible. I’m also reminded of the intense loneliness I experienced during my last move. I could drive myself mad thinking of all the details; childcare, starting over, making new friends, building a new support system, homework, student loans, scholarships, housing, time, energy, parenting, etc., etc. AAAHHHHHGGGG!
Alright, so I take a few deep breaths. One day at a time, right? Most of my family believes that a single mother of 2 has no business running off and chasing such ridiculous dreams. Grandma says, “How will you ever come cook meals for me if you live that far away?” Truly I am ready to pursue a life beyond what everyone else thinks is best for me. Especially when so much of their support and advice comes wrapped in pretty little packages full of selfish motivations. I love them, but I have never belonged to them! Even in my youth I would cry to the pages of my diary that I was a piece in this puzzle that did not fit. As an adult I now see the puzzle as a dysfunctional cycle that circles around from one generation to the next. I want to experience the breaking of these shackles and be filled with a new hope for the future of my children: Hope that is free of this curse of addiction, abuse, and denial. This college believes that in order to truly be able to counsel others a person must dive into his or her own story first. God, how I need this! The idea of it is terrifying and beautiful really: Standing face to face with all the monsters within me as I gaze into the mirror of my life. However, I realize that all the pain, suffering, overcoming, and joys I’ve experienced are meant to be shared. What a shame it would be to keep it all to myself.
I’ve found some scholarships for single moms, some others for Psychology majors, and the college offers reduced tuition for single mothers as well! It looks like soon I’ll be studying to take the GRE tests and begin the application process. Personnel in the admissions office have even spoken of some sort of co-op childcare between students. A little I’ll scratch your back, you scratch mine. Sounds superb to me! Therefore, where this time I’ll have a better plan I hope, I’ve also learned a thing or two about God, and how His plans can look incredibly different than my own. My therapist calls this surrender. So, surrender I shall. And I pray this time I won’t confuse my human frailty with my faith.
Living a Better Story Seminar from All Things Converge Podcast on Vimeo.
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