Just checking in

 No one cares. It's fine. It's just a diary or blog or something. 

Shout out to the weary moms

Let's face it. Every once in a while, a mom goes missing. Her time away ticks on too long and her family becomes worried and then the police are called and the media begins to post her picture. Three or four days later, she's found; or she calls; or she just shows up. Then the hatred begins.

"She could have at least called someone."
"She knows everyone was looking for her. Why didn't she say something? Why did she just let everyone worry?"
"She should have to pay back all the resources she cost."
"Well, I hope she gets the help she needs."

Blame. Blame Mom because hey, the family pleading for her to be found is really honestly missing her.

But what is Mom's story? A few thousand moms at any given moment know how she feels and they all whisper, "I feel you, Sister."

They all know what drove her to drive away and think she could keep driving and not look back. They've all hit the brick wall, sat back stunned and wounded to insensibility, and thought they might just go to Mexico maybe. New life. 

There comes a point when Mom has been the garbage dump one too many times. Maybe she's taken the blame for yet one more thing going wrong and she just can't take it anymore. Maybe there's a husband who thinks he's supporting her, but in her eyes he's not taking any of the weight and maybe adding just a little more to her hurt.

And she's tried to tell them she needs a few minutes but they don't take that well because, "Hey, she's MOM. She's supposed to be here when I need her!" 

And then just like that, she's full. She can't figure out how she's going to do this one more time. So she goes off in her car. At first it's just a drive around town. Then she stops at a park and takes a walk. She finds a bench and sits in the quietness. Quietness. And there she thinks her thoughts and she realizes something horrible about herself in that quiet place. She isn't sure she wants to go home. Maybe she will just drive a little longer. And before she knows it, she's in another city. Then she's in another. 

And she has her phone. But if she looks at it, she doesn't see anything. Her eyes are full of tears and hurt and enough. And she leaves her phone in the car. She may even leave her wallet. And she parks. She locks the doors and begins walking. She doesn't know where she's going. She doesn't know where she's sleeping. She's just walking. She's trying to find a reason to go back to the car and turn toward home. 

Most of them do find their reasons. They go back home. They know it will be the same old same old, but they go. 

"I hope she gets the help she needs." I say that if you are a husband/father saying these words, then look at your wife, the mother of your children, and be that help she needs. If you are a wife/mother saying these words, and you have no idea what drove her to that point, then go kiss your husband and thank him for being there.  

Be there. Be THERE. BE there. Be there for each other because you never know when John Denver is singing their anthem.

Where do I even begin?

It's been a year. There's been a lot of processing and a lot of soul searching and there's been a lot of  change.

I had to admit some of the hardest things anyone could ever admit. I had to give God my deepest, darkest hurts. Hurts I didn't even want to admit to myself. It was a painful process. There was a lot of weeping. But in the end, it was freeing.  I'm not free from the hurts, but I am being freed from the power they were exerting over me.

I might, someday, be free to blog about the process and the pain. But not today. Today, understand that God is good. He may not put me in the easiest places, but He is good. And where He puts me is a place that is good for me. He has, in many respects, made my feet like hinds' feet and set me upon my high places. Places where I must struggle.

I've been able to have some very open conversations with a couple of my kids about the hurts. There are hurts we've endured together. I'd always hoped to spare them some of the pain. But I couldn't. I could only be here for them and show them how to keep going in spite of it all.

I don't know if that was enough.

But what I do know and am sure of is this: God is enough for them too. His grace and his mercy and his strength is always enough. He is the author and finisher of our faith. We'd have nothing to struggle and fight the good fight with if He wasn't there.

In the meantime, it wasn't all hardship.

My oldest got married. I'm a mom-in-law. She's got a great guy.

My youngest is beginning to show that old ornery self again. I've missed that kid.

My son is senior in high school.

My middle kid earned her 2nd degree black belt. And she got rear-ended. And she bought her first car.

My second child has started taking courses at PCC and got a promotion at work. Her confidence in her strengths is growing.

And I turned 50. Fifty isn't a bad place to be when hope covers you like a blanket. My hope is in the Lord.

Haven't seen you in a while

We've been dealing with life, one day at a time. There  are good things; there are hard things.

We've remodeled. We've done a proper remodel. We hired an architect to help us create something. And he did. The kitchen is opened now. The dining room is open. There is a lot of light coming in. I've got double ovens. I have counter space. Lots of counter space. We installed a raised bar to add some counter space, but my kids love it. They gather there and chat with each other and with me. The baking is fun now. Bread, cookies, cakes, crackers...there's space to do these things.

I graduated from minivan driving. I'm driving an Elantra now. I love that little car. She's peppy. She likes going places. She's comfortable. And she's got heated front seats.

Tabitha is engaged. I'm going to be a mother-in-law. I like him well enough. I don't think he's ever met any family like us. We do things a little differently. But then again, he was basically an only child. Doing things the big family way can be overwhelming. But he's easy going enough that he's learning to take it all in stride.

And Becca's close to testing for her 2nd degree. She's pretty excited.

 But there's still Hannah's heartbreak we are working through. She's still a bit blown about trying to find her way. Retail is not it. She's good at it, but so many angry people is just about more than she can bare. There is a path for her. She's efficient, she's organized, and she does her job well. But chaos undoes everything. The Army was good fit for the organization; retail is not a fit at all.

Heartache comes like a tsunami

Hannah's coming home. She's being discharged. Apparently the medical board decided that her condition wasn't a risk they were willing to take.  My child is crushed. 

She's feeling things that normal people would feel, mostly that she's a disappointment to people.

But let me tell you.

She's as far from a disappointment as the earth is from the sun. 

She dared greatly. She got up and tried something most people would never dream of doing. She left the comforts of home and put herself in the hands of yelling, cussing drill sergeants who were bent on shaping her into something they needed. Now really. That's kind of crazy isn't it?  

She shared stories of the decisions others were making that got everyone into trouble. Things that got them out of bed at 2 am to enjoy a little PT time; things that lost them those precious phone calls home...then there was the time they had locker/personal inspections because of a contraband cell phone. Yes, the hours of no expectation of privacy. Who volunteers for that? Very few. 

The few weeks she got there have been life-changing in ways beyond description. 

She's no disappointment. This was a thing beyond her control and something we'd never even heard of before. What could she do? 

She'll come home. She will eventually get her head back in the game and figure out what she's going to do. 

I know that God's way is perfect; and I know that His way isn't easy.  

But I wonder, does Hannah know this? 

You will probably get tired of my Hannah updates

But I'm incredibly proud of her.

My faith dictates that it is God who directs the path of man and when I look at Hannah's path, I see very clearly that her way is His choice.

So, when I'm asked about how hard it is to have a daughter in that place, I can honestly say that it's okay because God put her there.  

She is currently squad leader (which is good for her because she has natural leadership qualities.) She is the locker/equipment example meaning her things must always be beyond expectation and she has that ability.

It's actually a joy for me to see her find in herself what I've always seen in her.

In a large family, there are certain places. In my house, Hannah and Tabitha are switched. Tabitha has certain qualities of the average firstborn child, but Hannah has more.  She has always been in competition with Tabitha for firstborn status.  It's rather odd to watch, but I think it explains Jacob and Esau to me in a way. 

But let it be known that I believe God chose this path for her and my soul is at rest. I'm not saying I don't miss her because our home has a hole now. I'm not saying I don't worry about her because I do. I need to know she's thriving. But her first letter home from BCT shows that she is thriving. And this lifts my spirit.

You're in the Army now...

Hannah's ride through reception has been utterly nerve wracking and insane. She didn't ship the first week because there were a lot of National Guard and Army Reserve women in her bay. They go first. Each battalion has room for 37 women. Hannah got to wait. The next week, she got news that she was going to ship and on her way to meet a drill sergeant to escort her to the PX, she began vomiting. That prompted a ton of tests. They determined she had the flu, but they found something else they needed to more seriously check. It was such a serious thing that it could have caused her to be medically discharged before she ever got to BCT. That guaranteed her a third week in reception.

Tonight, she got the call. She has been cleared and is assigned to a battalion.

My little girl is grown up. Sort of. She has some long hard days ahead of her, but I am so glad she's moving on now.

I'm full of emotions that really have no names. That's okay, though, because I'm Mom. I've earned these emotions.