This is me: A Single Mom Stereotype

Once, I had a dream. Of finding love, and getting married, and having a family.  Of cooking meals in a kitchen full of children, and building traditions, and holding hands through the hard times. Of growing old together, and enjoying grandchildren, and kissing each other goodbye as we left this world for something better.

A dream that ended too soon.

So this is me now. And, I am a stereotype.

I had a dream of teaching Sunday school, and Bible studies, and leading the Women’s ministry. And though we once worked hand in hand, your eyes no longer meet mine in the hallways of the church I love. Because now, I am a stereotype.

I had a dream of reconnecting with my girlfriends as my children grew. Of time to slip away and go enjoy some down-time laughing, and reminiscing, and enjoying the company of other moms. And though I’m still the same person who stood by you when life threw you curve balls, you can’t relate to what I’m going through, and have slipped away as quietly as you can. Because now, I am a stereotype.

I had a dream of cookouts with our families. Of our children running through each other’s yards, and us bringing baked goods covered in plastic wrap to the table. Of swatting mosquitos, and mending scrapes, and all the things that neighbors do. But I see the way you move in now when I speak to your husband, even though we were all friends at one time. Because now, I am a stereotype.

I had a dream of cheering our children on at school events. Of being on the sidelines with you at field day. Of class parties, and field trips, and parent lunches with you and your children by my side. But, I’ve heard the comments you make about the problem children at school, and the way you turn from me and suggest under your breath that it’s simply because they are being raised by a single mom. Because now, I am a stereotype.

But you are wrong about me. You are wrong about all of us.

You see, I haven’t changed. Though the things in my life certainly have. My kind of tragedy is common, and expected, and unnoticed. My kind of pain is overlooked, and shooed away, and not even recognized. I should have seen it coming, after all. Because it is all a stereotype.

Now, I am a single mom. And I’m chasing my dreams anyway.  I’m rebuilding my family. And my home. And my finances. And my self-esteem.

I’m connecting with new friends. And ministering to a different group than I ever thought I would be. I’m building a new idea of family. I’m giving my kids every ounce of me. And they are watching in real time what it looks like to fall to the very, very bottom in life.

And then, to overcome.

Because I refuse to be your stereotype. So,this is me. I am a Single Mom. But, I choose to live free.

Stop by Proverbs 31 Ministries, Suzie Eller's, blog this Live Free Thursday to discover more stories about living free. <3

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Guilt-Free Underwear

If I could have been born into a different family, I think I would have fit in well with a large Jewish clan. The mothers, I’m told, are masters at laying on the guilt. And I, sweet friends, am a sponge.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve never been able to put myself first without repercussions of serious guilt. If there was a last cookie on a plate, I couldn’t eat it without feeling it should be someone else’s. If there was extra money available to buy something I desperately needed, I still couldn’t buy it without guilt. If there was a work trip that took me away for more than twenty-four hours—even though my job was providing for all of our needs—I’d feel terrible for leaving my kids.

As a mom, guilt followed me like a shadow, ready to taunt me at a moment’s notice if my thoughts moved even one centimeter off of others and onto myself. When I became a single mom, that guilt somehow (as if it was even possible) magnified. And no matter how often I heard it, or how many voices in my life suggested it, I couldn’t seem to put even the tiniest focus on myself.

On the selfish act of taking care of me.

Until one day, I went to pack for a work trip and realized that I didn’t own a single pair of underwear that didn’t have holes in them. And, I don’t mean tiny ones from initial signs that I needed new ones. No. I mean, big, gaping, embarrassing holes that made them so ratty, they might have looked like lace from a distance. Ok, they didn’t. But remembering it that way makes me feel better.

And it was that drawer full—and I mean full—of expired underwear, that made me realize the truth: though my family never had to worry about running out of toilet paper, milk, deodorant, clean socks, or bread, I was living as if I didn’t deserve to have my basic needs met. As if taking care of me somehow took something away from someone I loved.

The real kicker? I realized the number of times I’d literally walked past the underwear aisle in my local Wal-Mart (hint: did you know that they sell it for just a few dollars?), perusing the aisles three to five times a week while locating items that the rest of my family needed—and didn’t take care of my own needs.

“Don’t you realize that all of you together are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God lives in you?” 1 Corinthians 3:16

I closed that drawer, determined that I had to start taking better care of myself. One look down the hallway would show three children who were continuing to grow, who would someday leave my home. When they did so, I didn’t want to be a deflated balloon that they had spent 18 years sucking the life out of. Because leaving behind a shell of the mother they once had, would only cause me to fill that empty space with mourning for what I’d just lost.

But, if instead, I began to fill myself up by taking better care of myself, becoming healthy both on the inside and the out, and even spoiling myself from time to time, I would still mourn the loss, but would have so much more to offer them as we each went into the next season of our lives. I would be so full of other things I’d allowed into my life, that the passing of that season wouldn’t consume me.

Sweet girls, don’t buy into the lie. We are called to take care of ourselves so that we can set out to do the work God has for us. We honor those we love when we respect ourselves enough to take care of our own needs (and sometimes wants).

So you know where I started?

With new underwear.

And you know what? It was the most fun-filled shopping trip I’ve ever had. Hands down. Because not only did I get rid of that drawer of undies-past-their-prime, but I got rid of the guilt. I refused to accept it anymore. And decided from that day forward that it was ok to take care of myself, to remember the things I once enjoyed, and even to make a plan that went beyond mothering my children.

And the undies? Some even had lace on them, people. Actual. Lace.

Stop by Proverbs 31 Ministries, Suzie Eller's, blog this Live Free Thursday to discover more stories about living guilt free. <3

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When Questioning Your Faith is the Only Faith You Have Left

Being a Christian is not a cake walk.

If you’ve ever met someone that made you feel as if being a follower of Jesus meant that everything fell into place, your burdens no longer existed, and that you were somehow part of an priveledged inner circle, you were being misled.

Christian’s struggle with their faith at times.

The past few months have been one of those times for me. If hearing this from another believer somehow makes you nervous, or worry that you’ll question your own faith to the point that you can’t bear to read on, then stop now. Because I’m a truth talker. Not a glazer.

Because the truth is that sometimes—especially in a season of long suffering— the only faith we have remaining, is our ability to question our faith.

When we’ve been through the ringer, too many times than we can bear.

When we’ve witnessed tragedy in those around us that send us reeling with questions.

When we’ve looked heavenward and wondered if anyone is there. If anyone was ever there.

And you know what? God is okay with that. Because questioning your faith can actually be an act of faith. Questioning your faith, questioning God, and even railing in anger over your situation is still among the actions of the faithful.

Because it means that you still believe enough

to question the reasons you believe.

And that, sweet friends, is the core of our faith: Believing in what we can’t see, even when all other indicators would suggest that it’s not there.

You see, sometimes even Christians get to the end of a long hard road, thinking that they are about to come out on the other side, only to realize that there’s a cliff they didn’t see. Sometimes they hit bottom so hard, so fast, that they get angry that the road wasn’t what they expected. And, if they are honest with you, sometimes they question the role God is playing in their lives.

Kinda like a guy in the Bible that no one ever wants to read about—yeah, that guy named Job.

So, I started reading Job. Because I was pretty sure we were soul siblings, to be honest. And while my loss and pain of divorce and single motherhood did not come anywhere near his losses, it did show me one thing:

Job is proof that bad things can be redeemed.

Maybe like me, the one thing you feared most in life has actually become your day-to-day reality. A slap in the face it seems. Maybe you feel like Job when he said in 3:25-26,

“What I always feared has happened to me. What I dreaded has come true. I have no peace, no quietness. I have no rest; only trouble comes.”

But, what if the thing you’ve dreaded like the plague, is actually the one thing in your life that can lead you to the most real relationship you’ve ever had with your Creator? If you become so close to God that you feel you can get real with him? That you can even—dare I say it?—question him. Isn’t that a gain?

Job thought so. At the end of his rants—though he didn’t accuse God, he complained relentlessly—he sat back and realized that the situation had put him in a position of relationship with God that very few were allowed. Job said,

“I had only heard about you before, but now I have seen you with my own eyes. I take back everything I said, and I sit in dust and ashes to show my repentance.” 42:5-6

While we may not always understand why things happen, they don’t mean that we’ve lost God’s love, companionship, or protection. In fact, he may be using the situation we are in to show us those very things.

Job wasn’t punished for anything he did wrong, just as we are not being punished. No guilt = suffering as the world would like us to believe. God works differently.

• Job was good man, loved by God.
• Job was hurt by unimaginable losses and felt defeated.
• Job was abandoned by those he thought loved him most.

But, the true showing of Job’s faith was that despite his situation, despite the fact that he didn’t like it, or even understand it, he didn’t turn away from God. Nope, in fact, he got real with God. He questioned him.

Did God then magically remove the trauma Job had suffered? No. But, he drew near to Job, even in his misinterpretation of what was happening. And he blessed him again.

Give him the chance to do the same for you.

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