"I just want things to go back to normal."

Just a quick background for this post if you haven't been keeping up.  Towards the end of July I injured my left hip, but I didn't really know what was wrong, and it wasn't too bad at first, so I continued to use it normally for the next 3 and a half weeks.  It got steadily worse until I could no longer put weight on my left leg.  I was diagnosed with a stress fracture just below the joint in my left hip.  I cannot put weight on my left leg at all while it heals, so I have been on crutches or in a wheelchair for the past six weeks.  I still have at least six weeks to go until I am crutch free, as my doctor told me I need to stay off the leg for six weeks AFTER I no longer feel any pain in that hip, and currently I do still have some pain.

Last evening while Daddy was heating up our dinner, this precious girl of mine, Anne (age 5) had a meltdown and climbed up onto my lap sobbing and saying that she "just wants things to go back to normal."  I was pretty sure that I knew what she meant, but I questioned her further just to be sure.  Through her tears she told me that she wanted things to go back to to normal when Mommy did all of the work and she had more time to play.  She didn't want to have to help me carry things all the time and always be the one to let the dog out.  Now granted this was a very tired little girl at the end of her second full week of Kindergarten, but she was breaking my heart!

Now I feel my child's pain.  I have really been struggling the last few weeks, trying so hard to be patient, trying so hard not to let my depression creep in and take over, and wishing so hard that I could just get up and do all the things I am supposed to be able to do.  I want to sleep upstairs in my own bed!  I want to walk my children in and out of school every day instead of having someone else do it for me.  I want to clean my own house.  I want to take a real shower.  I want to take my dog for long walks in the woods on these beautiful fall days.  I want to make dinner for my family.  I want to be able to pick my kids up off the floor when they fall, and walk my rascally son back into time out over and over and over again.  It has been six weeks, well longer than that if you count the three weeks of pain before that.  I am really trying to learn this lesson in patience that God is trying to teach me.  God is always trying to teach me patience.  I must be pretty bad at it!  He is also trying to teach me to let go of control, to let other people help, to let HIM take over.  I must be pretty bad at that too!  BUT, I am trying.

I really have struggled with the extra pressure that this has put on my children, especially Anne.  She is more sensitive and because she is older, more has been expected of her.  And while she says that she doesn't want to do everything to help, she worries about who is helping Mommy when she is not there.  And she wants normal again.  I don't think that she understands that our normal has changed.  The old normal wasn't so great.  There were wonderful things about it, and many things that I took for granted, but I can sit here now and say that there were many things in my life that were normal for me, but that need to change.  It takes time for "normal" to change.  I need to change for a healthier me.  I need more time with God, I need more exercise, I need to eat better, I need more quality time with my husband, my friends and my kids.  However, I spend most of my life sitting in safe and comfortable ruts, doing things the easy way.

I feel like this experience is giving me the opportunity to change my old normal for a better normal, and honestly, I am so afraid I am going to screw it up.  I am afraid I am going to forget when I am free to move again.  I am trying to use this time to better my mind and prepare myself to have a whole new normal.  I feel like that is the reason that all this is happening, because I needed a drastic intervention to change and wiggle out of my comfortable old normal.

So my poor precious girl, this has put too much stress on a five year old.  She worries that I am going to get hurt worse if I fall, and about who is going to take care of me when she is not around, and then she is five, and just wants to play sometimes, so when we ask her to help she feels like she has to do everything.  So we had a long cuddle and a long talk, about being patient, and about what it means to do things out of love, even when you don't feel like it.   Even though it feels like it is taking forever for this hip to heal, it will.  In the meantime, I have been listening to Andy Stanley's series, "In the Meantime (Meantimeseries.org).  It is all about what to do when you can't do anything.  It is very inspiring.  So I am trying to be inspired and to plan out my new normal, while I patiently wait to heal.

There was a little girl....

I wrote this post a few months ago, but didn't feel ready to post it at that time.  After reading it again tonight, I decided it was time.  It has been a challenging month and a half for me as I recover from a stress fracture in my hip and I haven't been feeling my best emotionally.  Life has been challenging for my husband and my kids as well.  But through all of this my family has been loved and supported by our family and friends and OUR AMAZING CHURCH FAMILY.  So, I couldn't think of a better time to share the story of how we came to join our wonderful church and found such a loving home there.  Here it is:

This post is one that has been on my heart to write for the longest time, and recent circumstances in my extended family have brought it back up again in my mind and in my heart, so I figured it was time.  I just never knew exactly what I should say or how I should say it.  What do you say when a stranger's tragedy literally alters the course of your life? Would you want to know?  Would you want to know if a loss that you suffered ended up saving someone's soul, and maybe even their family?

What is the measure of a life?  I suffered a loss, a miscarriage with my first child.  The child of my heart, the one I will always miss.  I only knew that she existed for six short days.  Then she was gone.  I grieved for her with all my heart and all my soul.  And I wondered, what was the point?  How could her life have any purpose at all.  Now I know that it did.  Loving and losing her has helped to shape the person that I am today.  I know that talking about her and what I went through has helped others, and in that, my child's life did have a purpose.  My arms still ache to hold her, but I know that I will someday, and that knowledge does give me peace.

But there was another little girl, one that I never met, that had a greater impact on my life than I could have ever even possibly imagined.

When my son was six months old, my postpartum depression was just starting to get out of control. I was very lost at this point, and over the next two months it was only going to get worse.  But it was when he was six months old a tragedy happened in our town and a family that I had never met, lost their five year old daughter to an illness.  The loss happened pretty quickly after diagnosis.  Somehow this little girl's story spread all over the local area.  I remember holding my babies and sobbing, hurting so much for her parents.  We wanted to do something to help.  I talked with my husband about it and he reached out to help at a local fundraiser that was going to help the family with the medical expenses.  But just like that she was gone.  The event still happened and the money went to help the family and to also start a foundation in the child's name.  A foundation that continues to do amazing things for families in our local area.  I am forever amazed by these parents who took their grief, and used it spread love in their daughters name.  My husband continues to help out with events for this charity whenever he can.

Aside from the impact of being sad for this family, this little girl affected our lives in an overwhelming way.  But how do you say that to somebody?  How do you tell someone that them losing their child changed the course of my family's lives forever.  Sometimes I feel guilty when I think about the impact that this child has had on our lives.  I know that I would give it up in a heartbeat if this family could have their baby back.  But life doesn't work that way.  God has this incredibly intricate plan for the world that we cannot fathom or understand.  Lives intersect for a reason, many reasons, and only he knows why.  I know this, but would still give her back to her family if I could.

The initial fundraiser that happened to raise money for the family happened at a local church.  One we had never been to before.  My husband performed for the children at the fundraiser and I, and some friends took our kids there to support it.  We had never been to this church before.  And we didn't go back, not for 7 months.

This is what happened.  My husband and I had been sporadically attending the Roman Catholic Church that we were married in.  We were both raised Roman Catholic, and that was all we knew.  But we both knew that it just wasn't working for us.  I still had a relatively strong faith, but my husband had been doubting and struggling for years.  We asked to meet with the priest once because we needed some help and guidance, and he didn't have time for us.  We didn't really know what to do.  We never felt like we were part of a community there. We never really wanted to go to church.  The times we went we just felt like we were spending an hour trying to keep the kids quiet, so what was the point? It was so frustrating, and we felt so empty.  And the more my depression took hold, the harder it was for me, and the emptier I felt.

Then one day, in November, out of the blue my husband suggested that we check out that church...you know the one that we went to for the Fundraiser.  I was doing way better with my depression at this point, but was still a little wary...not as much for myself but for him.  What if he didn't like it?

So we went the Sunday after Thanksgiving for the first time.  I went in nervous, they had nursery for little ones, but I had a kid with a severe food allergy, could I leave her there?  Would she be safe?  I felt completely at home within 15 minutes of entering the building, we were welcomed, brought to the nursery, our fears were addressed, we left the kids, went to the auditorium.  Our family has been attending the church ever since.

Over the next few months I watched my husband's life change dramatically and mine did too.  He found support, people to talk to, people to ask all of his questions to, and then quietly, without fanfare (because that is the way that he is) he came to Christ.  The prayers I had prayed from my heart for six long years were finally answered.  My husband came to know peace, the peace that comes from having a meaningful relationship with God.

Since then my family has flourished.  Many things that were once struggles started to work themselves out.  Both my husband and I have continued to grow in our faith.  We have found a loving church family with an amazing support system.  I joined the moms group there and both my husband and I have found ways to volunteer at the church doing things that we love.  We became official members of the church and were baptized together six months after we started attending.  Our kids love the church, and are already learning to know God and develop a relationship with him.  I am constantly taken aback by the heartfelt, spot on prayers that come from my five year old.  I love watching her grow with God.

So many areas of our lives have changed for the better since that day in February 2012.  My heart aches for anyone whose child has left this world too soon.  I know that pain, and I share it.  I am so sorry for your Mama and Daddy, sweet girl, and for all those that love you.  Thank you precious girl, for being such a bright, shining light in our lives.   You have been the brightest beacon on my Journey to the Light and because of that I will ALWAYS carry your light in my heart.