Seriously. Every month I set a goal to write weekly (whether I post it or not); every month I mentally pen all day and only get snippets actually out of my mind and into print.
In the past six-ish months, I have lived beyond the 5th anniversary of my husband's passing, bought a house {a super nice one too!}, celebrated the holidays as a budding new family, planned an impromptu wedding, took the family on a magical Hawaiian vacation, had a second wedding {you read that right}, sold aformentioned super-nice house, moved the entire family into the house I built in my hometown after my first husband's passing, and much much more. Six months will change a girl.
In the past six-ish months, I have created a home of stability and consistency {within my means of control} for some precious babes that I want to help grow into kind, thoughtful, capable, wise adults who walk in truth.
In the past six months, I have reached out to new widows that I have met in person as well as widows who I've never laid eyes on, offering to be a resource or a source of support to in the wake of the new club they just joined. The way God led me to the ones I had yet to meet was incredible and undeniably Him. I pray that I can actually be a help and I'm not operating in a disillusioned world where I think they need support, but I'm actually just another nosy person {fairly certain that's the devil talking}.
In the past six months, I was hit with a guilt and a fear that I wasn't expecting. In the days after marrying my new Mr., I was overwhelmed with a sad heart and feelings of guilt that I thought I would've worked through years ago. No, I didn't date a lot after Aaron died, but I did date some. Yes, Brandon was the only man I invested any real time in, but I saw that as another way God shepherded me. I expected and experienced the guilt during that time, but not really at all when we got engaged. Yes, I walked through moments of doubt and sadness, but never guilt. Thankfully, it has passed. I can't be certain it won't come and go {since it swooped in without warning before}, but at least I've seen the monster once and I'm confident I'll get better every time.
In six months, I've stretched myself in ways I sought out, but didn't fully grasp the realities of. I've become a wife again. I've gone all-in to two additional children that need a stable force in their lives. I've started sharing my space in ways I thought I was going to avoid by having two homes {hey, I promised to be honest!}. I've added permanent fixtures to my biological children's lives and forced them into, yet another, new reality.
In six months, I've become even more thankful, even more gushy, even more eyes-wide-open about blessings, even more like a girl about this second love, second life, second chapter. I'm fairly certain Brandon thinks I'm nuts when he catches me staring at him. I'm positive I make him uncomfortable when I'm debriefing each night on what I'm thankful for. I don't care. He doesn't fully grasp what wound I have. He doesn't understand the gratitude and wonder that move into my head. The way tears rush in when I think about how thankful I am to not be where I once was. The magnitude of having someone else that I answer to in some way. The knowledge that opening myself up to love again means that I'm increasing the number of places I can get hurt. A widow knows pain that is unique and most that I speak to wouldn't wish it on their worst enemy and hesitate to sign up for anything that would bring it to them again. Control becomes the name of the game. "I can't fix this, but I can tie this other thing up and keep it at bay."
In six months, I watched God do something so incredibly funny. I watched Him release us to find a home. I watched Him offer Brandon an opportunity. I watched Him do a change in Brandon that allowed Brandon to demonstrate his love for us. I watched Him sell our new home in under 15 hours. I watched Him merge two families, not in the way we had planned, but in the way He would, bringing us together in marriage in our home church with only a few witnesses as a precursor our planned, beach wedding. I watched Him create a completely loving family relationship between the children and the parents, right down to the names they call us. My ears don't immediately know Kennedy is talking to me when she says, "Mommy!," and I get just a bit confused every time Aidan asks, "Is Daddy at work?," but it's beautiful and completely melt-worthy. The purchase of the home gave me pause of His intentions... "Why would He allow us to buy a home only to move us less than three months later?" The answer is persistent. He pushed me. I showed I was all in and committed before He came with His answers and He blessed the transaction abundantly, as only God can.
In six months, I gained a new identity, new responsibilities, new life.
Six months. Six people. One family.
There is a void still that requires prayer and, likely, fasting, but it too has been consistently prayed for since 2011 and with a renewed vigor since 2015. I am confident that God will move on my behalf and perfect those things that concern me, bringing restoration and healing while knocking off pride. I haven't received a release to act yet, but He goes before me.
Six months at a time is a vast improvement over the one day at a time.
In the past six-ish months, I have lived beyond the 5th anniversary of my husband's passing, bought a house {a super nice one too!}, celebrated the holidays as a budding new family, planned an impromptu wedding, took the family on a magical Hawaiian vacation, had a second wedding {you read that right}, sold aformentioned super-nice house, moved the entire family into the house I built in my hometown after my first husband's passing, and much much more. Six months will change a girl.
In the past six-ish months, I have created a home of stability and consistency {within my means of control} for some precious babes that I want to help grow into kind, thoughtful, capable, wise adults who walk in truth.
In the past six months, I have reached out to new widows that I have met in person as well as widows who I've never laid eyes on, offering to be a resource or a source of support to in the wake of the new club they just joined. The way God led me to the ones I had yet to meet was incredible and undeniably Him. I pray that I can actually be a help and I'm not operating in a disillusioned world where I think they need support, but I'm actually just another nosy person {fairly certain that's the devil talking}.
In the past six months, I was hit with a guilt and a fear that I wasn't expecting. In the days after marrying my new Mr., I was overwhelmed with a sad heart and feelings of guilt that I thought I would've worked through years ago. No, I didn't date a lot after Aaron died, but I did date some. Yes, Brandon was the only man I invested any real time in, but I saw that as another way God shepherded me. I expected and experienced the guilt during that time, but not really at all when we got engaged. Yes, I walked through moments of doubt and sadness, but never guilt. Thankfully, it has passed. I can't be certain it won't come and go {since it swooped in without warning before}, but at least I've seen the monster once and I'm confident I'll get better every time.
In six months, I've stretched myself in ways I sought out, but didn't fully grasp the realities of. I've become a wife again. I've gone all-in to two additional children that need a stable force in their lives. I've started sharing my space in ways I thought I was going to avoid by having two homes {hey, I promised to be honest!}. I've added permanent fixtures to my biological children's lives and forced them into, yet another, new reality.
In six months, I've become even more thankful, even more gushy, even more eyes-wide-open about blessings, even more like a girl about this second love, second life, second chapter. I'm fairly certain Brandon thinks I'm nuts when he catches me staring at him. I'm positive I make him uncomfortable when I'm debriefing each night on what I'm thankful for. I don't care. He doesn't fully grasp what wound I have. He doesn't understand the gratitude and wonder that move into my head. The way tears rush in when I think about how thankful I am to not be where I once was. The magnitude of having someone else that I answer to in some way. The knowledge that opening myself up to love again means that I'm increasing the number of places I can get hurt. A widow knows pain that is unique and most that I speak to wouldn't wish it on their worst enemy and hesitate to sign up for anything that would bring it to them again. Control becomes the name of the game. "I can't fix this, but I can tie this other thing up and keep it at bay."
In six months, I watched God do something so incredibly funny. I watched Him release us to find a home. I watched Him offer Brandon an opportunity. I watched Him do a change in Brandon that allowed Brandon to demonstrate his love for us. I watched Him sell our new home in under 15 hours. I watched Him merge two families, not in the way we had planned, but in the way He would, bringing us together in marriage in our home church with only a few witnesses as a precursor our planned, beach wedding. I watched Him create a completely loving family relationship between the children and the parents, right down to the names they call us. My ears don't immediately know Kennedy is talking to me when she says, "Mommy!," and I get just a bit confused every time Aidan asks, "Is Daddy at work?," but it's beautiful and completely melt-worthy. The purchase of the home gave me pause of His intentions... "Why would He allow us to buy a home only to move us less than three months later?" The answer is persistent. He pushed me. I showed I was all in and committed before He came with His answers and He blessed the transaction abundantly, as only God can.
In six months, I gained a new identity, new responsibilities, new life.
Six months. Six people. One family.
There is a void still that requires prayer and, likely, fasting, but it too has been consistently prayed for since 2011 and with a renewed vigor since 2015. I am confident that God will move on my behalf and perfect those things that concern me, bringing restoration and healing while knocking off pride. I haven't received a release to act yet, but He goes before me.
Six months at a time is a vast improvement over the one day at a time.
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