Lifelines and New Beginnings
2018 was quite the year. It reminded me of a bad morning that wouldn’t end, like a scene out of Groundhog Day. You know, those mornings when everything goes wrong. The kind where you wake up late and go to make coffee, realizing you are out. You look like an extra from The Walking Dead as you get the kids ready for school. You get them out the door, everyone looking semi-decent (messy buns for the win), do school drop-off, then head to Starbucks for that glorious cup of caffeine you have been craving. Only to order your tall cafe latte and extra shot of espresso at the drive-thru, get up to the window, and realize you don’t have your wallet. That brutal morning is the kind of year 2018 was.
I went into it excitedly as I knew it would involve some big life decisions for our family. It would involve a huge personal goal of completing my first half marathon. It would involve family reunions at two different weddings we had on the calendar. It would involve our oldest getting baptized and publicly declaring his faith in the Lord. It would involve us completing our first (and only) year of homeschooling. Yes, I’m still alive. It would involve a career change for my husband and a move more than 1,000 miles away. So many sweet memories. And yet, those sweet memories were hard to see in my rearview mirror as I closed out 2018 with despair and hopelessness.
A move we made in a step of faith collided with the reality that God’s plans differ from mine. Following months of angst in job searching and earnest prayer, we left Virginia and headed to Missouri in early August. We moved with no house or job waiting for us but a thirst to try this thing we thought we were supposed to do. After about 7 or 8 hotels, we arrived at the Airbnb we were to stay while my husband looked for a job and we looked for a home.
Now let me tell you, I would have preferred to stay in a tent over this house. A distinct smell emerged from the walls when we entered. Leftover food and dog hair awaited me in the fridge. The shower had a weird low window that would leave us exposed to neighbors. To create some privacy, the owner had hung a oversized maroon curtain that would become drenched every time we took a shower. In the narrow stall, washing my hair and body without accidentally brushing up against the curtain was impossible, making me cringe with disgust. The living room seating area was old patio furniture. Let’s just say it was not comfortable for this thirty-something-year-old body. The septic tank overflowed twice during our stay. I would only realize this when I went down to the dungeon, I mean the basement, to do our laundry. I would open the laundry room door and realize I was in a puddle of stuff that belonged in a toilet. Not to mention the toilet leaked, and the water heater went out once during our one-month stay. And there was a locked portion of the garage you could not access, which I’m sure contained hidden dead bodies infested from whatever disease the shower curtain held.
Things did not make sense as I grasped for some rationalization as to why things were playing out the way they were. After almost two months, my husband finally found and started a job, and we put in an offer on a house we could afford after our fifty percent pay decrease.
Thank goodness we had some amazing friends who let us live in their basement while we closed on our house so we didn’t have to endure the awful one on Abbey Street anymore. To say the least, our outward appearance and circumstances were nothing short of chaotic. But the true disarray was on the inside. Not only had we endured a career change and a move, but I entered into a new season of life as our youngest started school, and the three kids I had been at home with for the past five years to a decade were now in someone else’s care. This should have felt like an exciting new chapter. Yet, due to all the outer circumstances, it only brought me more confusion. So many life changes. I started the year running my first half marathon yet somehow ended it the most physically and emotionally unfit I have ever been.
I continued to question why God had us here instead of holding onto the faith that moved us here in the first place. One afternoon, I was babysitting for a friend at our new house. The house I was so appreciative of after months of being homeless, yet a house that had many needs to make a home. When she had returned to pick up her littles she asked how our transition was going. I’m not sure exactly what she heard on her end, but on my end, it felt like I threw up a jumbled tumbleweed of words describing every emotion I was feeling while fighting back tears. She looked at me and said, “I’m staying here with your kids and ordering pizza for dinner; you guys need a date night!” This friend had three little ones AND was experiencing extreme morning sickness with her fourth. I tried to dodge the lifeline she was throwing me but reluctantly agreed. Mexican food and a margarita helped, but my raw conversation with my husband that night was the real game-changer.
I didn’t leave the restaurant suddenly knowing why we were there. But I left with the recognition that if it hadn’t been for the move and its destitution and a friend who could push me in the right direction, I wouldn’t have understood the areas I desperately needed help in. It was a sweet reminder from God that he knew why we were here and what I needed.
In my attempt to stay afloat, I hadn’t realized I had begun to sink. Given all the changes, I assumed all the tears over the past few months were normal. I hadn’t realized that I had been treading water for a while, and the change was just enough to pull me under. For the first time in my life, I was aware of the importance of emotional health. I guess I always assumed it would be a sudden change, like a tidal wave if someone were emotionally drowning. I now believe that emotional things tend to simmer. It can take years for them to come to a boil and overflow suddenly. Leaving you vulnerable and exposing your need for help.
So, as 2018 ended and I reflected on its hardships, I became appreciative of God’s goodness in showing me some areas I have probably needed work on for a while. As you begin your 2019 with a clean slate, remember this: as good as goals, dreams, plans, and pursuits are, you have no idea what this year holds. There is a good chance some of it may not make sense. Some of this year may even be hard, leaving you feeling as if you are in uncharted waters alone, but it makes it all the more sweet when God throws you a lifeline. Remember, lifelines come in different forms. For me it was circumstances that only would have happened by moving here. After the fajitas and conversation with my husband, it took the moment to reach out to someone I could trust and ask her to recommend a counselor. That was one of the hardest texts I’ve ever sent. It is difficult to admit you are overwhelmed and need someone to talk to. What I want you to know is it is not admitting defeat. It is declaring triumph over life’s storms. It is pursuing new beginnings even through the waves.
Happy New Year Friend,
Sarah
