A little while ago a very close friend said, “I’m so sorry you aren’t doing well. I hadn’t heard from you in a while so I assumed you were busy and doing well.” I think that makes perfect sense. If all you see is the skim of my social media all you know is that my daughter is pretty adorable and we go outside often. There is no reason from that to know otherwise. And I know I’m not the only one is this position.
Instagram is a great way to share your highlights and show true gratitude for your life, but not where you admit how overwhelmed you are.
Because I’ve shared so much of my life and grief journey on this site, I want to be honest about the bad times too. I’ve made several attempts to write a post being real about my current struggles, but I always fall asleep before I finish writing.
So before I share some of the highlights of the amazing things Zoya is doing and saying and ways God is providing, I want to be honest that it’s not all butterflies and sunshine. I’m struggling. This isn’t easy. Solo parenting. Solo home ownership. Being in charge of an organization. Daily grieving. If I were to rate how I’m doing this year on a scale of 1 to 10, I’d give myself a 2.
Zoya is doing fabulously. She is truly amazing. Um but well, she did just explain to me in detail how she was going to take my car and run away when she got bigger when she was angry about my pulling her pants too low when she got on the potty (woke up three hours before she should have this morning). I’ve been very careful to monitor every story and every show she has ever watched so I don’t even know how she knows what running away is. I just calmly looked at her and said a prayer under my breath and she started crying saying she would miss me if she ran away. We had a lot of important talks today.
So she’s far from a perfect child, but compared to all my other responsibilities, she is a bright star. My house, despite decluttering, is a disaster. Sure, it’s a million times better than it would be. Thursday night my angel sister kept Zoya over night so I stayed up late cleaning. But Friday was glitter paint night and there are probably 20 26 inch paintings all over the living-room now.
The yard makes me angry.
The car is embarrassing.
My job, well I work in the pro-life field, and I’m at a point emotionally where I’m nearly paralyzed by fear of verbal attack with every email, text notifications and phone call.
My health … well it’s nice to have a daughter to hide behind and cropping is my friend.
In the last few weeks, I’ve finally gotten angry. My husband was killed by a carjacker and I’m just now getting angry. I’m not mad at the guy. I don’t even have the energy for that. He’s too low on the radar.
I realized, as God so faithfully revealed my sin during lent season, the season I really don’t “agree with” at least as explained by most, I’m angry with my life, which means I’m angry with God.
I know God can handle my anger with even more understanding and wisdom than I handled Zoya’s this morning. But I don’t want to live in the excuse of “I’m hurting, so I’m angry.”
I want to have the peace that Job found in saying, “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord.”
Job wasn’t happy in his situation, but he found peace. I am having to learn to trust God to provide at a whole new level. Nearly every time I think I’ve found someone or something that will help share the responsibility of this life, it falls through and I have to go from anger through hurt, back to trusting God.
I’m ready to learn this lesson and move on to a place with more God provided reliable human support. But I know it’s an important lesson. I know it’s one worth learning. I know it’s one that will the bring freedom that comes from unwavering confidence that God will provide.