The last time I was settled and at peace I was 22 years old living as a nanny in New York. And only then it was a partial attempt at peace and rest. It wasn't my home or my family or my car or my city or my state or my kids. But this was the last time I was settled. Pretty shoddy attempt.
For the past 18 years I have been living in a state of discombobulation. I lived with my parents before I married the first time in 2005. I suppose that was a firmer attempt at being stable than being a nanny in a different part of the country. But it was still shoddy.
I had three years of a tumultuous marriage. Katrina hit in 2005 and for the next three years we moved multiple times, finally settling into a house that we renovated. During the time of renovations, we were living in the upstairs Master suite (the only thing that was upstairs) and had our kitchen in an RV behind the house. And along with all of this was our difficult marriage...we were two very different people under a tremendous amount of stress. Even the best of marriages could not have made it through that without scars. I prayed for three years that I would have the peace to stay or the peace to go. One day I woke up and the door to leave was standing wide open. I walked through and didn't look back.
I lived with my parents for a few short weeks, then with a friend, then on the seminary campus, then found a house to rent. I met my second husband immediately. I had a roommate and we moved into another house a year later. I was married two years after I left my first husband. I moved into another house with my second husband. We bought a house and renovated it, moved in and had Brady shortly thereafter. We stayed in that house until our marriage dissolved into a sad puddle that could not be soaked up with Bounty. The duration of our marriage was again a tumultuous time. During all of this madness I was building a business. I had two little boys, a step daughter and a husband that I did not get along with. My brain was on overdrive.
I have lived in 12 houses in the past 12 years, 17 in the past 17 years. I am tired of moving.
When I moved in with my parents after leaving my second husband, I vowed to stay until my brain had calmed down again. There was no better place for me to take a time out. When I thought of my happy place, it was in my parents' living room in front of the fire. I was finally in a position to heal.
And that was what I did. I fought it for some time by being in yet another unhealthy relationship. But God smacked me in the face and forced it on me. He knew better than I what it would take for me to recover. And that was the absence of a significant other.
I remember my brother telling me when I was considering moving in with this erroneous mate that I needed to establish stability for my boys without anyone else assisting in this. At the time his words scared me and slightly infuriated me. I remember thinking that he had no idea what that meant...to be a single mom and be solely responsible for your children. Not just financially but in discipline, health, their spirituality, their emotional well being, their education. (side note: they are with their dad 50% of the time so this fear was only about when they were with me.) It was too much for me at the time to consider doing alone. I desperately needed a partner. Or so I thought.
Those words ended up aligning completely with what my picture of health would be. (I hate it when my brother is right... just sayin'...love you Poops...) It took my brother being honest and what I felt was slightly insensitive (at the time), and a man I was interested in telling me that I had too many red flags to date seriously to make me look at what I was terrified of facing. That I had chosen to walk a path that required my full attention and stability. And I ALONE had to fulfill this task.
I love my alone time. I crave it. I get grumpy when I don't have it. But actually being alone...not so great. I rely very heavily on the approval of others. I need affirmation more than I should. I can't make a decision about much without hashing it out with someone. So why in the world would I choose this solo road?
Because being solo is mandatory to my healing. God wants to arm me with the ability to make decisions without assistance. He wants to be the one who makes sense of my chaos. He wants to be the one to calm my tumultuous soul. This is no one else's task but His and mine. And whether I was aware of it or not, my decisions have brought me to this place where I am able and equipped to do this.
He is the one holding this Solo cup. I'll drink to that.
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