Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Emotional... overwhelming post. If you aren't prepared to read a real response, please don't read this.

I have avoided the blogosphere in the last six months first because I was super busy, and second because my entire life fell apart in a few short months. There are times I have thought about sharing how I feel, but it is pretty ugly in this head and heart right now. I have a hard time being positive about the things that have happened and how we are to get back on track in the future. I cannot seem to see the reasons as to why this has happened, but it has.

We were torn apart. By a church. We were left on the side of the road with nothing but harsh words and no answers. It is really difficult to see a “plan” in all of this, although I keep being assured that is the case. I know this in my head, but my heart tells me it’s lying. Some days I can be really faithful and know that God is present with us in our suffering, then other days I cannot help but be angry that after years of giving ourselves over to the Lord’s will, everything went crazy anyway.

It seems as though one day I am just expected to wake up and everything will be okay again.

When people ask me how things are going, I think to myself, “Can I give the real answer? Or do I tell them what they want to hear?” I feel painfully alone no matter how many times people tell me they are praying for me. The truth is, prayers don’t pay the mortgage. Prayers do not keep the electricity going, the water bill paid, and my kids fed. The harder we work at finding jobs, the more we are penalized for having them through the government programs we must enroll in to support our family. 

We apply for childcare assistance, and our food stamps balance goes down by $300. And we have to pay a $157 co-pay. That is $450 a month that we do not have, all because I am working a job that pays me around $1000 a month. Seriously? I work full time, not spending any time with my kids on a daily basis, just to spend half my paycheck on other people watching my kids.
Even with a Bachelor’s degree, I am “unqualified” to be a medical receptionist or work as a food preparer at the local hospital (two of the highest paying jobs in our area). I am constantly looking for other work, yet it is nearly impossible to be paid anything more than minimum wage. This is the struggle for most of the working poor in our country today. It is not only my burden.

The problems are so big and the solutions so few, that I have little time to even comprehend what is happening in my life. The bruises are so deep, and the pain so real, that I have difficulty breathing some days.


I hope that one day I will be able to look back and see how silly all of my worry is. I hope that there will be a day that I can see how we got through this situation and moved into something incredible, but some days I really doubt that will happen.