Day 8: Blessing in Disguise

Yesterday I confessed to feeling completely overwhelmed.  Today I awakened to a 12 item to-do list, a full day of homeschooling (4 students, 7 subjects, do the math!), a grandmother to tend to, a taillight in need of repair, a possible trip to "town" (50 miles away), a volleyball game in the afternoon (9 miles away), a soccer game in the evening (25 miles away), and two very sick kids.  I also awakened to a fresh reminder that God loves me beyond measure and has planned every detail of my life to perfection!  Let me explain...

Most days I feel like hamster on a wheel -- racing frantically at breakneck speed, but never getting anywhere.  And some days I toy with the idea of leaping off the wheel, with little regard for life and limb.  That's where I was yesterday.  But today I woke to two sick kids, and the wheel slowed to a stop.

I hate that my kids are sick, but I love that God know exactly how to stop my wheel.  There have been other times in my life when God has used sickness, cancellations, breakdowns, snowstorms, and the like to stop my wheel because I wouldn't.  And I love that He loved me enough to give me sick kids today in order to make me stay home -- in my pajamas, no less!  (The kids and I were just showing our school spirit; after all, it is spirit week at the middle school, and today was pajama day!)

And how was my day?  Well, I completed 10 of the 12 items on my to-do list, taught a full day of school, trusted God to take care of my grandma, cancelled my trip to "town", sent my daughter to her volleyball game (They won!), skipped my son's soccer game (because he was sick), and made chicken noodle soup for dinner!  Not only that, but my uncle fixed my taillight (Thanks, Duane!), I had a wonderful visit with my brother, I played games with my kids for the first time in a long time, and the sick are being made well!

Yep, God is good...even to stubborn little hamsters like me!

Day 7: Do the Next Thing

For the last couple of days I have been feeling completely overwhelmed.  I am really starting to notice my husband's absence, and the burden of responsibility for my entire family is weighing heavily on me.  I feel pressed in on every side, and I actually ache physically.

In counseling on Saturday, my counselor encouraged me to really feel what I'm feeling, but it hurts, and I find that I am becoming frustrated and irritable.  I don't know how I can possibly take care of everything that is now my responsibility.  I can't do it all, and I feel like I may burst into tears at any moment.  I'm sorry.  You've been warned.

In the week before my husband entered treatment, I found myself paralyzed in the supermarket fighting back tears because of a stupid Rob Thomas song that was playing over the sound system.  ("Little Wonders", if you must know.)  I couldn't move, and I could hardly breathe as the reality of my husband's imminent departure came crashing down on me.

The only thing that saved me from melting into a puddle of tears was something I heard Elisabeth Elliot say on the radio years ago, "Do the next thing."  And at that moment, the next thing was finding the Clorox Wipes, because they were on sale for $1.99.  (Praise the Lord for Elisabeth Elliot and Clorox Wipes!)

But here I am again, where the only step is the next step. And I must confess that this is getting really hard.  And in spite of all the heartache and chaos of the last several years, I miss him...

Day 6: FAQ

I suspect that some of you may have questions, so today I will attempt to provide answers.  Consider this my FAQ post.

Where is your husband?

As stated in an earlier post, my husband has entered a faith-based, residential program for the treatment of chemical dependency and other life damaging issues.  The facility where he resides is located on the west side of the state.  We are declining to give more specific information at this time, just know that he is in good hands.

Why is he there?

For the better part of our fourteen-year marriage, my husband has struggled with addiction to marijuana and prescription pain killers.  When I married my husband, he was clean, but over the years, a predisposition to chemical dependency, a prior history of recreational use, devastating loss, multiple surgeries, and a myriad of poor choices have created the perfect storm of addiction.

Will you able to contact or see him?

YES!  But not yet.  My husband is currently going through what they call "blackout" -- a two week period when new entrants adjust to life away from home, learn the ins and outs of the program, and detox.  Once my husband has completed blackout, we will be allowed to visit him twice a month.  He will also be able to make phone calls to family each Sunday and send and receive mail from authorized contacts.  (Please do not be offended if you are not on the contact list.  It is restricted to family and clergy ONLY.)

What about finances? Who's paying for all of this?  What about you?

We have an amazing family, incredible friends, a wonderful church body, and we serve a GREAT God!  In short, we are blessed beyond measure!  God has provided all that we need for this day and this month, and I have no doubt that He will continue to do so.  Thank you to each and every one of you who have been His hands and His feet to us.  May God bless you richly!

And probably the most pressing question of all:

How are your children doing?

Remarkably well.  In fact, better than expected...so far.  When my husband sought counsel about entering treatment, it was recommended that we tell the children right away and be completely honest about why he would be going away.  That was quite possibly the wisest counsel we received, and as a result, our children had almost a week to prepare for his departure.  During that time, they each wrestled with his leaving in their own way -- some more constructively than others -- and now that he is gone, they continue to wrestle, but all in all they are doing well.  Please keep them in your thoughts and prayers.

What can we do to help?

That's easy...pray, pray, PRAY!  And please be gracious to us as we make our way through this wilderness.