Wednesday, March 10, 2010

four days in my thirtieth year

First thank you Mary, for kind words are so dear and very few and far between are they that each is more precious than gold or diamonds.

2010 has opened with a bank balance so low we are afraid of ever penny spent. February brought condemnation for not doing better than we are. It is hardly fair to expect us to give coherent answers when cornered like rats so I put my answer here realizing it may only be read by a few if at all. I say we can do only our best and if it is not good enough for us to do our best and wait and hope and rely on the Lord to open another door then nothing we do will ever be good enough for those who see us as failures already. To say my husband and I are not trying is to say we never did anything worthwhile. Our achievements may be small but they should not be discounted out of hand.

March has brought a good deal of anger into my life. Anger at myself, at my husband's misfortune, at my relatives and his for judging what they should not because they cannot understand. I may not have the thick lush grass yards that suburban housewives are supposed to, tended by a gardener that I barely know but I have pea plants just sprouting. I have broccoli ready to harvest. I have seeds sprouting. That is enough of God's blessing for anyone. To expect more is unfair.

They want for us to release our foolish dreams and get down to the business of a career. I have watched my mother's career ruin her health. She hates it and though the pattern never changes she still is not used to it after nearly 20 years of it. I know from experience that this is something I cannot do. I've tried many times before to be untrue to myself to bend my will into a job, any job, and have found that I make myself sick doing this. I would rather be poor and do what is best for me and mine than rich as a king and hating every minute of it and those around me who have forced it on me. People are too fond of money. They act as if this world spins on it but it doesn't. The trees bloom no matter what we are paid.

I have always trusted that God knows what he is doing. No matter what happens, the fights or the friendships, I know that all things work to His good. They have to. I cling to that almost desperately now. I have to. I struggle with a constant disappointment in my life, I should have this or I wish I'd done that. It wears at me like sea water on the coast, as others impress their idea of success onto me. So I cling to this, all things work to His good, hard and hope for the best while preparing for the worst. Only now I can't prepare anymore, there is nothing to prepare. So I wait. I watch. I suggest and make phone calls and wait some more.

Loss of hope is what I fear the most. I never expected life to be easy, I know the difference between work and play, but for there to be added struggles from other people? This I was not expecting. It seems as soon as we are out from under the thumb of one group another takes it's place to shame us. My choice in particular has come under great onslaught. As if this were a choice made out of selfishness. I worked while pregnant when I could but such a difficult pregnancy made it hard. We discussed at great length before I became pregnant and again when the newspaper fired my husband. I've been pushed one way and the other over being at home with her and I'm sick of the constant condemnation over a simple well thought out choice. Childcare took a leap in price between the day I found out I was carrying her and today. In order for her to go to a good early childhood learning center I'd have to pay nearly 500 a month, in some places well over that. That doesn't include clothing, snack and supplies, birthday gifts, or the volunteer hours needed to ensure she is treated well. Where would there be time to write, time to work on my college credits, where would there be time to work the hours necessary to make what my husband makes and still cook dinner and pack lunches for my family. I can barely get into the kitchen as it is. Part time work would only just cover the price of her schooling and full time would afford us no more than maybe an extra 3 thousand bringing us to 15 thousand a year and putting both of us into an early grave.

But this is the wedding all over again. A constant justification of a choice I made because the alternative was not possible. I will not ask for help now. I was loath to ask it before and now I have no intention of asking anyone for help ever again. The help is next to useless when the price for it is so damned high.

God is teaching us, this is a lesson to be learned. There are lessons for my husband and lessons for me. Once we have learned these things will take a new course. Life is a series of rises and falls, hills and valleys, this is a valley, nothing more.

There was a day a day long ago in a life I've never forgotten when I'd stand in the rain letting it soak me because each drop was like a kiss. My father was a brute and a destroyer so turned often to the Father. My life did not improve simply because I believed but he was someone to talk to who loved me and listened without judgment. He still does. If faith is nothing more than this then why is it so hard to obtain? Mostly He is treated like Santa Claus, we sit on his knee at night and ask for things but what about our secret hearts, what about those desires we think He can't see. I learned a long time ago that you couldn't hide anything from mom because she cleans the house. I figure if He sees it all anyway why not let it all out and not pretend with Him.

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