You know the stories of people who are in horrific accidents; the ones where the person just gets out of the car and starts wandering around the scene staring at seemingly nothing while thier wounds just bleed out. They don't have a clue they are even hurt nor about what is even happening around them. Or there is the person who is so focused on lending aid and rescuing others they do not even know that they themselves are severly wounded and in need of help. Adrenaline is pumping and keeping pain at bay whilst keeping energy and other senses hieghtened and functioning. That is what I mean by shock.
Since I have last posted we have found ourselves (through numerous generous people and only by God's grace) back "home" in Missouri. We left behind so very much that I had held onto over the years. Some things were so difficult to let go of. I had a crib that each of my sweet boys had slept in, the nice double stroller I took on cpuntless walks with my sweeties, the cup from the hospital I delievered my first and second child at (not to mention worked one of the best jobs of my life so far at). I know the cup seems like such a petit thing but it is just one of those things that was a memorial I held onto. I left many of my things but the hardest part was leaving the boys' things. The mountain of toys and clothing they had to leave behind was mind numbing to me. They were such troopers and didn't complain. Part of me believes they didn't understand as C still asks from time to time about something left behind and he just sighs and says it was left at the "old house" and maybe we could buy a new one sometime. J really hasn't seemed to miss stuff except for his blanket I mistakenly put in a bag we left with my sister and will have to retrieve once we are able to.
My heart felt so burdened by what we were having to leave. Thankfully the pangs are few and far between now that I am away from it all and know it cannot be undone. I have a couple moments of "wish I had kept that..." but then I remember what I got away with in our little SUV and the generosity that got us here and I have to just be thankful and in awe.
My in-laws have bent over backwards for us by allowing us to share their small home. They feed us and provide shelter and love and a sense of stability. I found work quickly upon moving back and my husband shortly after. We are saving and searching for a place that will rent to us inspite of our recent rental record. I keep thinking if these landlords understood the circumstances they would be more forgiving, but so far it hasn't proved very successful. I keep reminding myself that God has this undercontrol. I will not remain homeless and we will get back on our feet and one day we will be ready to get back into full-time ministry if God wants us there.
So far I am learning that I have been wounded even though I did not realize it at first. I am deeply hurt. I believe I was in such shock at first. I kept dealing with my husband's wounds; trying to lick them and see to his mending. I attempted to keep everything together by uplifting my boys and allowing "normalcy".
However, when your attempt at normal becomes you carring pots of boiled water upstairs to the bath tub countless times one night just to allow your little boys a "normal" bath at night after they have turned your hot water off and eating by candle light in the evening praying that the cold front doesn't move in like they say because the heat won't work, you probably need to re-evaluate your level of hurt. But I didnt allow myself to think about my pain. I had too much to focus on. I kept sending C to preschool pretending that was going to help him feel less of the stress, pretending it was helping him feel safe and normal.
It was not often I allowed anyone to get me to speak about my pain in it all. The pastor at our church in Akron had mentioned how my pain is worse than my husbands and I couldnt wrap my head around that. It was not until I was standing before the congregation here at home, presenting our family for membership, and I heard pastor say that we had been wounded and had come home and needed loved on that I allowed myself to realize my pain.
I am so thankful to be "home". I had people show such kindness to me in Ohio as well and I am in such immense awe and joy from their gifts and hugs but here is family. Something about needing to be wrapped in that warmth and security that touches a person's core.
I am still struggling through this process. I am not quite at home here as of yet. I do know I am loved here but I did not grow up in this church nor do I know many of the people in it very well, but knowing it is my husband's home and being around his family (even with them being different from mine) I feel a stability that can't just disappear in a horrible day on what feels like a whim.
Do I want to go back to full-time ministry? One day I would LOVE to, but time is needed. I dont know if I would feel secure yet. I don't know that I could give it my all. Hopefully that fear will ease quickly, hopefully I can remember my leading is from God and my stability is found in Him. He is the one who allows the changes to come and I need to rebuild my trust in His perfect plan and timing.
I am getting there. But until then, you can find me by the river in the desert being fed by ravens. Soon God will command me to go...right now I have to rebuild my strength.
