What are you waiting for?

I remember being a child waiting in line at Disneyland.  The excitement and anticipation of what lay ahead was often more than a child, like me, could handle.  And Oh! - the joy when I finally reached the front of the line and it was finally my turn!  The rides never let me down, and it was always well worth the wait.

July 5, 1998.  A girl cannot put into words the mixed emotions that come with waiting to walk down the aisle.  Jason and I had been friends for years, and I just couldn't wait to be married.  He is my best friend and the help-mate I was given to share my life with.  But the wait leading up to that day was such a mixture of happiness, excitement, anxiety, and anticipation. I will never forget standing at the end of the aisle with my father and seeing Jason at the other end.  Pure joy.  And here we are, almost 13 years later.  I can happily and confidently say it was worth the wait.

Not long after our wedding, in fact just a few days, I began a long journey.  I began the journey of learning to wait.  O.K.  So the truth is I still haven't learned how to wait.  I'm terrible at it.  I'm that child at Disneyland jumping up and down and whining.  "Is it my turn yet?  How much longer?"

It started with the wait during the drive across country on the way to our new home in upstate New York.  I was sure we would never get there.  I was so excited to be a new wife, in a new home, on a new side of the country, on our new adventure.  I just couldn't wait. 
Then there was the wait, a few months later, when Jason was deployed to the Sinai desert, Egypt.  Talk about a wait!  There I was a newlywed, all alone in a strange place - waiting for my beloved to return.  What a long, agonizing wait!
After Jason's enlistment, we returned to Washington to finish college.  Unfortunately to complete our degrees and follow our "dreams," we went to two different schools on two different sides of the state...five and a half hours apart!  Oh! the wait to see each other on the weekends!  It was painful!  The anticipation of spending time together seemed to make the wait seem even longer.  And no amount of striving or trying made the wait go any faster.  It just resulted in a few speeding tickets near Ellensburg.
Then there's the ten months of waiting - three times.  There is nothing that can replace the joy of finding out I was pregnant.  I've always loved children.  But I had no idea about the instant, overwhelming love for my children.  Nor did I have any comprehension of how long that ten months wait really feels.  I was so excited to see and hold those babies.  I just couldn't wait!  Why the long wait?  And towards the end, with swollen feet and short nerves, I was sure the wait would never end and I'd be pregnant forever!

All of these waits have been exciting.  Sure some were harder than others.  Some involved tears and "are we there yet?"  But I almost always knew when and how the wait would end.  It was a wait of anticipation, joy, and delight.  But what about the waits for the unknown?  What about the times I've waited for unknown results with unknown time lines? Those have not been such joyful, happy waits.

There's the pain of waiting to hear about a job.  We've been sure we were following God's call in our lives.  But the wait to get an answer causes such stress.  And the fact that you don't know if you are the one the employer is looking for causes some real sleepless nights.  Jason and I, both, have been through this a few times. 
There's the wait when you apply to rent a home.  I distinctly remember the wait.  There have been times we finally found a home that met our wish list.  We liked the neighborhood and the house.  We get excited about the move and getting a fresh start.  We could picture ourselves in this new dwelling.  But waiting to hear back from the landlord can be long and tough.  Several times we didn't know what the answer might be or how it might turn out.
There's the wait when our children have been sick.  When will he ever get better?  Will this get worse?  Is something going on in his body - worse than what it appears to be?  That unknown can get scary.

But the toughest waits are the ones that shake the very foundations of who you are.  These are the waits that interrupt your life.  There you are, cruising along with your plans for life.  When suddenly something comes along and stops your whole world.  And then you wait.  Wait for it to end.  Wait for life to move on.  Wait for the result so you can restructure the route you were taking.  Wait for some sort of answer...some sort of wisdom...some sort of plan.  What next?  Where do we go from here?  What should I do?  How should I handle this?  Will I survive?  Will this season ever end?  This is the worst kind of wait.  The worst.

That wait, while Jason was in Egypt, was one of my first experiences with really difficult waits.  I knew this wait was coming, but I had no idea how truly difficult it would be.  I was all alone.  I made a few new friends, but no one that seemed to really "understand me" the way Jason always seemed to.  He knew me.  He knew my history and my present.  I was so lonely without him.  I remember crying for hours, wishing he could just come home.  I was crying for my weakness too.  What kind of person cries and carries on like this?  What kind of person feels so all alone in a room filled with people?  What was wrong with me?  Would this wait and struggle ever end? 

Years later, I experienced one of the most terrible, life altering, knock-you-off-your-tracks and change your identity waits.  I was just plugging along in life.  I had a wonderful husband who had a job he was finally enjoying and a new baby boy that I was lucky enough to get to stay home with.  We were in a new town, in a new home, and were spending time getting to know the area.  We had found a church body that seemed to really match our walk, at that point.  Life seemed pretty good.  I was happy.  But slowly, that all seemed to start shifting.  And sometime was wrong.  Terribly wrong.  Without any warning, my marriage began to unravel and fall apart.  This perfect marriage that I had placed on a pedestal was falling to the ground.  I couldn't believe it was happening and neither could anyone who knew us.  We all watched it slowly slip, and before anyone could grab hold and catch it the whole thing hit the ground and shattered into a million little fragments that no longer resembled our beautiful union. I was completely devastated.  This wasn't supposed to happen; not to Jason and Christie.  Not us.  This happened to other people.  And now what?  What was I supposed to do?  Fight?  Walk away?  I had no idea.  All I could do was wait.  It's all I had.  I didn't wait well, though.  I started out waiting a few days on my parents' couch in a fog.    Then I spent several weeks waiting in bars and at parties.  Drunk made the waiting not so painful.  With no answers and no idea how I got to this place, I just kept waiting.  I continued my wait burying myself in parenting and work.  I cried out to God for answers.  I cried out for the waiting to end.  I drank, cried, smoked, prayed, screamed, cried, prayed some more, and hurt a whole lot.  This wait was more than I could handle.  I was sure I was being punished for sin in my life.  So I would spend hours and days re-hashing all the events that had lead to this waiting trying to figure out what I had to do (striving) to make the season of waiting come to an end.  People around me couldn't understand what I was waiting for and thought I was crazy for waiting.  I needed to just walk away from the wait and move forward.  It was a lonely wait once others gave up on my waiting. But something held me there, waiting.    And there was no guarantee as to how the waiting would end.  That was the worst part.  It physically hurt to not know what I was waiting for.  I know what I wanted more than anything.  But the reality is, that was very unlikely.  I was waiting for a healed marriage.  But there was no guarantee that is what was going to happen.  So, I just waited.  Two and a half years of waiting.  And when God knew I could not trudge through the wait any longer, He healed the marriage and moved us out of that season of our life. (Not that is was a quick healing, but that's a discussion for a further post.)

Another life-altering, world-stops-moving wait occurred in an ER.  It was December 2008 and I rushed in carrying my lifeless baby girl, Anna, in my arms.  She wasn't quite one yet, and something was terribly wrong.  She was extremely pale and lifeless, yet her heart was racing out of control.  When the on-call doctor had asked how many beats per minute her heart was beating, Jason hadn't even been able to count.  It was going that fast.  What was wrong with my baby?  And talk about waiting!  I've never seen such slow moving nurses and doctors.  O.K.  So, in hindsight, they probably were moving at a normal emergency pace.  But when it's your child laying there on a gurney no one can move fast enough.  And no one had any answers.  They didn't seem to know what was causing Anna's racing heart or how they should go about slowing it down.  I remember crying out, again.  God, please make this waiting stop!  Fix my baby! When the doctors finally came up with an idea, they needed to insert in IV into my baby.  But her heart had been working so hard for so long that her veins were all collapsing; not to mention how small they are to begin with.  So getting an IV into this child took forever!  Why was this all taking so long?  Why was the room spinning?  How could this crazy ER be so loud and so quiet all at the same time?  Why did I have to step outside and find some air?  Fix my baby, please!  Finally, after hours of a lifeless Anna, several failed attempts to insert an IV, a couple of failed drugs, much screaming, crying, praying, and waiting....it was over.  Anna survived, we had a diagnosis, and we began our journey of a child who had episodes of SVT.  Anna currently takes medicine three times a day and we now wait for her to outgrow it or for an age when it will be safe to operate on the nerves that cause her heart to race out of control.  One wait ended, but another continues - in regard to our baby's heart.

The pain and discomfort of such waits had worn me out.  And yet I, again, find myself in a place of waiting.  I'm tired and don't know how much more uncertainty I can handle.  I feel like I am being dragged through this season of wait and I'm can't see the finish line.  Sometimes I find myself wondering if this is a season or if this is the permanent state of my life.  We have been living with my parents, without permanent, steady employment for over two years now.  The small contracting company we owned went under with the economy and we have been in this 'season' ever since.  What we thought would be fixed and healed within a few months has now gone on for years.  I know we are not alone in this wait.  Many families are dealing with this struggle and pain, right now.  And sometimes that lessens the hurt.  But other days it doesn't seem to matter; I want it to end.
I continuously go from optimistic to trusting God to anger to doubt to feeling hopeless and back to optimistic.  I feel guilty for doubting God's plan for my life and then spiral down into depression and extremely low self-esteem.    I cry out, shout out, and strive.  I get mad, sad, confused, and weak.  My body and soul feel physically ravaged.  I can't stand this wait.  There are days I am paralyzed by this wait and the unknown.  I feel like getting out of bed, in the morning, is the biggest chore.  I feel guilty that there are days the wait wears me out to the point that I just can't/don't want to be a mom and my children spend time in front of the square baby sitter.  This wait just makes me feel weak.  And I find myself thinking, "What is wrong with me?  Why can't I get a hold of my faith and my emotions?"
But parts of my waiting have 'grown-up' and changed.  I have learned to find some joy in my waiting.  I have three, happy, beautiful children and an amazing husband.  I have a roof over my head and food in my tummy.  My children are getting irreplaceable time with my parents.  I live in a beautiful area of Washington, close to my mountain.  I'm meeting new people and making new friends.  And I'm really enjoying small town/rural living - something I kind of despised after growing up in a small town.  And my faith has stretched and grown to places I've never thought possible.  I feel hopeful and full of faith, knowing that God is using Jason, the children, and I right now and will use this in the future.  But all of that doesn't change the fact that I'm still stuck here; waiting.  I'm waiting for a finish line that I can't identify and have no idea when we will reach.  And I find myself asking,  "How much longer?  Are we there yet?"

Are you waiting?  What are you waiting for?  Is your wait going well?  Or is it uncomfortable and painful? 
Please know that you won't always wait.  And you won't always be so unsettled.  I don't have all the answers, but I can confidently say that Someone is in charge of this chaos and waiting.  That Someone has a plan.  And more often than not, His plan is far better than ours. 

Verses for encouragement:  The Psalms are filled with patterns of despair and distress followed by God's mercy and love.  Here are just a few that I hope will encourage and strengthen you.

• Psalm 25, specifically verses 4-5
• Psalm 27:13-14 speaks volumes to painful waiting: "I could have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.  Wait for the Lord; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes wait for the Lord."  (NASB)
• Psalm 31 speaks of the Rock of our strength
• Psalm 33:20-22
• Psalm 34:17-19
• Psalm 37 speaks of the wait and rest in the Lord
• In Psalm 78:11-20, the Sons of Ephraim forgot God's deeds/miracles in previous, seemingly impossible situations.  Let us not forget God's power even when we can't see a solution to our wait.

Hopeless

There is an evil word that is forever being whispered in my ear.  Hopeless.  I know better than to listen to this quiet voice, but sometimes my humanity takes the reins and listens.  I hear it often.  And when you hear something for long enough, you begin to believe it.  Right?
Lately, I've been hearing that word quite a bit.  I have so much on my proverbial plate, lately, that it's easy for the liar to tell me how hopeless it is and how useless I am in all these current situations.  It is really wearing me out.  I feel like I'm running on a treadmill and getting nowhere fast.   And my esteem is taking quite a beating too. 
How can I possibly be a good mother with all the other "stuff" I've committed to?  How dare I commit to all these things, when I'm so devoted to raising my children?  What kind of wife doesn't give more attention to her husband?  How dare I rely on him so much right now? How am I supposed to be a good sister, daughter, and friend when I can't even handle all the stuff in my life right now?  Who do I think I am?
Well, let's not even go there.  Along with helpless, the lies just continue to build.  All the things wrong with me seem to be magnified when life is feeling hopeless.  Can you see how this lie snowballs?
This liar who whispers to me tries to remind me how often my life has felt hopeless.  Unfortunately for this liar, it tends to work against him.  Because when I look back on all the times my life has seemed hopeless....it has NEVER ended like that.  In fact, it has always ended with the exact opposite; Hope.
I look back at a hopeless situation from my childhood.  Turned out just fine, and those involved continue to heal daily.  I look back at our hopeless situation with our educations (Jason and mine), and that turned out with two, separate degrees.  I remember the hopelessness of an extremely broken marriage.  From the outside looking in, there was truly no hope.  The world wrote our marriage off.  But here we are, years later, with the hope of two more beautiful siblings for our son and a far stronger marriage than we ever thought possible.  I look at our hopeless idolizing of money, and although we struggle without, our view of money and our money management has changed drastically for the better.  I look back at the hopeless feeling of a child with a heart condition.  Yet this child is full of hope and will live a long, healthy life. I am reminded of the hopeless feeling of sick grandparents.  But am filled with comfort and joy in knowing they are no longer in pain and are Home.  I remember the hopeless feeling of losing a family business and watching two of the dearest men in my life struggle.  Yet, daily, I am watching these men grow stronger and heal from their loss; hope.  I could go on and on....
But here I am.  And I feel like I am facing a hopeless situation.  I know the truth is there is Hope.  I know it will all turn out.   I know the winning pattern of my life will continue.  But when you are in it, the liar whispers and it takes all my strength not to listen.

Hi! How are you?

How many times have you answered "fine," "good," or "great" to this question, only to hear that voice in your head scream the word "LIAR!!!"?  It's the answer we all give and it's the answer we all want to hear.  By hearing or giving the answer "good" there is no obligation.  We don't have to give or take any more information.  And it's easy.  It's easy because we don't have to open up and share how we really are doing.  We don't have to really listen to how someone else might be doing. 

Are we afraid?  Are we afraid that if people really knew how we are doing they might judge?  Laugh? Point? Hate? If people knew the real story, behind this mask that I wear, they might just walk away. 

I know that veil.  I've worn it my whole life.  And to an extent, I've worn it well.  But as days and years pass, I realize that I wasn't designed to hide behind a mask.  The veil was torn, and I was meant live ....well, to be honest, I don't know.  But what I do know is that I was not designed to hide. 

You may be surprised, if you follow this blog, by what you will read.  Some of you have never met me, but your story is very similar to mine.  Maybe you are struggling through something and are tired of saying "I'm fine."   I hope you are happily surprised to find there is someone who has been there and has survived.  Many of you may do know me, personally. You may find some things about me surprising, humorous, offensive, or just plain shocking.  It might change your opinion of me.

But, in obedience to the One who designed me, I'm going to remove my veil and share me.  This is a very big risk I'm taking.  And it's scary.  Yet it's been weighing on my heart for several years now, and it's time I do something.  I meet people all the time who benefit from hearing my story, and I hope this small blog will do the same. 

This is not an attempt to make myself look or feel better because I somehow "survive."  And it's not about pouring out the sad ramblings of a thirty-something.  This is about sharing me in attempt to glorify Him.  Plain and simple.  Besides, I'm not a sad thirty-something.  I'm truly happy.  You might even say I'm "fine."