Redefining the Journey

I continue to take steps forward on my journey of obedience, but my path has changed. God has moved my path and my direction. I would by lying if I said that I was thrilled that He has changed what He's doing in my life. I think I have finally come to realize that the dreams that I've held so tightly to were mine and not His. About four weeks ago, I began a wrestling match with myself. I don't have any idea what started it, all I know is that one day I looked up straight into the face of this monster that I'd become and decided I was finished. The exhaustion that overtook me was incredible. I knew that it was time to make some changes in my life and in my thinking.

Recapping for those of you who may have forgotten, or who may not even know. . . I'm single. No children. Do not want to be single. Want children. But want to be obedient to all that God asks of me. I had felt an urging that I felt was God to pursue adoption several years ago. Many doors have been closed on my journey.

Having my best friend and her boys live here at my house has been a blessing to all of us. I have learned so very much about myself by having them here. What's that? You'd like to know what I've learned? Well, you know, learning about yourself is never easy. . . but here goes nothing. . .

* I am lazy. (if someone's gonna do it for me, I'll let them.)
* I am the principal. (I want things the way I want them, and by golly, you're gonna do it my way.)
* I am lazy. (my computer and my naps are much more important to me than I had ever imagined before.)
* I'm worthless in the kitchen. (setting off the smoke alarm while boiling water and cooking on an outdoor grill that is located outdoors - true story.)
* I am lazy. (have I mentioned this one already?)
* I'm a horrible housemate. (if it's not mine, I'm not picking it up. If it's yours, I'll badger you to pick it up until you do. If it is mine, I'll pick it up when I want to, so don't you dare tell me to pick it up.)
* I am lazy. period.

All of these things are things that may be true, and of course I try to make a joke out of them, but when the rubber meets the road, they aren't funny. This isn't a joke. These actions and activities hurt those who are around me and who I love.
I have a hard enough time keeping my own room clean and my own laundry done (which I don't do often. . . my best friend can attest to that.) so of course I can't imagine being responsible to or much less FOR someone else in my household.

I absolutely adore teaching music. I can see that God has molded me to be a music teacher for a long time. I love giving all I have in the classroom. Creativity (which I don't have much of) comes out and I love to create something out of nothing. I love to see the light flip on in the eyes of the little ones. But I'll be honest - I give it ALL when I'm in the classroom. My focus is TOTALLY on what I'm doing and making an impact on those little ones that I've been entrusted to. After 6 hours of high energy, excitability, and passion, when I get home, I want to be quiet. Very quiet. I turn the volume of the tv down. I sit quietly and look at the computer. I relish the quietness of the house. Until a certain 14 year old that I love with all my heart comes bounding through the room with a bouncing ball, a weird song, or mindless chatter. And then I become this person that I do not love. I become this person that I do not even like. I become the grouchy old man that no one wants to be around. And it grieves me. It deeply grieves me.

Through my grief, I realized that maybe, just maybe, this quiet urging was God's voice saying that motherhood wasn't for me. Put together all of the things that I am (you know, lazy, ect. . .) with the need that I have for quietness, calmness, and serenity when I get home and I began to really look at myself as those who live with me see me. How on earth could I ever be a good mother if I can't even drag myself off the couch to make myself a grilled cheese? I know. . . I know. . . everyone says, you just do what you have to do. . . but would I?? I mean, really??

All of this soul searching has been very private the last few weeks. Some friends who are very close to me (M, A, G, and S) have all noticed that something is not right, but I haven't allowed them to break in quite yet. It's not easy to come to conclusions and realize that what you've been pining for your whole life is not what God would have for you. But now I am free to let them in as well as anyone else who cares to know. Being a mother is a blessed gift, but not one that I will be recieving. I have been given immeasurable and countless other gifts that I will continue to embrace. Isabella. Finn. Penelope. My new little one coming in Septemeber. The love of friends. The devotion of family. Laughter. Teaching. Chorus. Oh Lord! The blessings flow!!! How have I been so selfish to not embrace these gifts as they've been given to me??

For years and years and years, it's been my prayer that if being a mother was my desire for my life and not God's, then I asked that He'd take my desire away. That desire is fading. Am I sad? Yes, I think I am a little bit sad. But the desire is fading. . . and that's exactly what I asked God to do!!! He's answering prayers for me. The last few weeks have been a true struggle for me because I have seen God answering my prayer.

"I want my desires to be your desires, and if my desires are not yours, please move me out of the way and change my heart."

BUT - when I saw those desires changing I grasped tightly to the strings and wouldn't let go.

"No God! I said it, but I didn't really mean it!!!"

"My child, let them go. They're not mine. Let me heal. Let me love. Let me show you."

"No God! I'm scared!! It's all I've ever known!"

"My child, let them go. Let me heal. Let me love. Let me show you."


How appropriate that on Resurrection Sunday, during the service at church, I had a bit of a rebirth. The song "Healer" by Kari Jobe has always been a favorite song of mine. I had always thought of it as a healing song, asking for physical healing or healing of the heart, but this morning, I saw it in a new light. As I raised my hands (both hands - odd for this old Baptist gal) in surrender, I saw my broken heart with a man-made hole in it the size of my desire for children being lovingly covered by the hands of my Savior.

"I believe You're my healer. I believe You are all I need.
I believe You're my portion, I believe You're more than enough for me.
Jesus, You're all I need. . ."

I sang as loudly as I could. I stretched my arms as high as I could. I allowed the tears to flow freely. I allowed them to drip down my broken heart and allowed my Savior to collect them. And He did collect them. Each one of them. And His gentle hand began a healing that is like none other. I know He did.

So, the journey is being rewritten. My obedience journey continues to follow Him. My journey continues to seek where He will lead. But with my healing heart, God will show me what He has for me. He will lead. I will follow.

and the healing begins. . . .