The Most Difficult, Most Beautiful, Grief-filled and Joyful Decade

December 31st, 2009

We were on the precipice of a new decade.

However, I hardly noticed it.

The last six months of 2009 were a whirlwind:  Within days of returning from a mission trip to Kenya with my oldest girl, our world was shattered by the arrest of my ex-husband, for evil crimes of abuse.  The media were camped out in our church parking lot (which was also the parking lot to the parsonage, where we lived.)  I told the kids to fill up two suitcases with summer clothes and just the toys that were most dear to them, and then I drove them to the airport to send them to their grandparent’s home in Hawaii, to remove them as far as possible from the chaos as I tried to figure out what to do.  I went into hiding.  I turned 40.  I gave most of our belongings to Goodwill and to a fundraiser yard sale for a friend, because I knew we would have to travel light for awhile.  My children enrolled in school in Hawaii, under a homeless act law – because they fit that profile according to Hawaii’s law.  I joined them out in Hawaii, in time to take my youngest to a “safe house” to be questioned by detectives, to determine if she, too, was a victim.

After a month or so, I realized I could not afford to stay in Hawaii – we had no money, no job, no insurance, no home, and few belongings. We returned to Virginia, and our beautiful church allowed us to move back into the parsonage, and helped us to refurnish it with beds and couches and dishes and lamps.  The Presbyterian minister found someone in his congregation to help me pull my resume together.  He also traded his mother’s car, for my ex-husband’s car, so that the kids would not have to use it to learn how to drive.  He connected us to a counselor, who became a lifeline.  Friends bought me some clothes for interviews, and shared job openings with me.

I had absolutely no idea how I was going to raise these four hurting children, on my own.  I worked as a substitute teacher by day, and retail by night.

The end of 2009, was a blur.  A grief-soaked, terrifying, how-are-we-going-to-survive-and-why-would-God-allow-this-and-will-we-ever-know-joy-again end to the decade.

We were crushed.  Broken.  Despairing.  I couldn’t even fathom how we would survive the next day, let alone the next ten years.

December 31, 2019

A day is just a day.  A year is just a year and a decade is just a decade.  Is tomorrow, really any different from today?  Remember when we thought the world would end, during Y2K, yet when we work up on January 1st, everything was…normal?  The world’s economy hadn’t collapsed, no one needed their doomsday provisions they had stored up in their basement.  The sun rose, we said “Happy New Year” and life kept marching on.

Yet, tonight, I feel myself pulled towards some reflection over the last ten years.  I am compelled to stop, for just a moment, and breathe a prayer of gratitude.

The decade started off in dark anguish and hopelessness.  I wasn’t at all certain that I….that my crew and I….would make it through the first few years of the decade.

How grateful I am tonight, that I was so very wrong.

But I am only wrong, because God’s grace and mercy and faithfulness are sure.

The lyrics of the second stanza of the hymn “Come Thou Fount” reference raising an “Ebenezer” – weird language to our ears, for sure.  It points back to a passage in 1 Samuel, when the prophet Samuel set up a stone after God destroyed the Philistines and Israel won a major battle.  The Israelites, when seeing the stone, were to remember that “Thus far, the Lord has helped us.”

It is a bit odd – we aren’t much in the habit of naming stones here in 2020 – but the purpose was to remind the people of what God had done.

A milestone.
A signpost.
A memorial.

I can’t think of a better way to close out this awful, beautiful decade, than placing my own, virtual stone in the ground, and taking time to remember how God has “helped us thus far” – because His grace and mercy have been sweeter than anything I could have imagined.

A Decade Review – What God Has Done

Single parenting was so very hard; and I failed my kids so many times. But here we are, 10 years later – and I am so proud of what my crew has accomplished, and who they are.  They endured so much, yet in those difficulties, have developed a resiliency and appreciation that they might not have gained otherwise.  They are closer to and enjoy each other more than any other sibling groups that I know – because, they had to learn to depend deeply upon each other.  They are launching out into the world and cheering each other on as they do so.  My oldest daughter is newly married.  My oldest son is in the Navy, serving our country while stationed in Japan.  My youngest son is in college, pursuing an engineering degree while also working hard at his job.  And my youngest is at The College at Southeastern Seminary, studying music.  All four work hard in their jobs and studies.  All four love fiercely and protectively.  All four treasure life and adore each other.

Out of the pain of our experience, I have had the honor and privilege to walk beside others who have found themselves in similar nightmares – precious, hurting victims of abuse.  Wives of husbands accused and subsequently found guilty.  Parents and grandparents struggling to care for their victimized children.  Churches blindsided by similar evils that have seeped into what should be protective walls.  Other churches, looking to put safeguards in place, to help prevent such awfulness.  At times, these relationships have been difficult and draining – but every single contact and request for help is dear to me, because the help I was given by my church family and this community that I live in is dear to me.  It is my way to repay the care given to my family and I, in our desperate need.

I’ve had the opportunity to write throughout the past 10 years – a children’s book, an article for Leadership Journal (a publication by parent company Christianity today), an article for ERLC, an article for a professional journal in the UK, and various other opportunities for different websites.  Writing is how I process the world; and to share my words with others has been both terrifying and life-giving.

For several years during this past decade, we lived in our dear little house provided for us by Seaford Baptist Church (our church family) and Zion United Methodist Church.  (You can read more about our little home here:  Our Dwelling Place).  In that home, we circled the wagons and our hearts began to heal – I will always be grateful for those four walls.

Seven years ago, I took a job that changed all of our lives.  It allowed me to quit working 2 and 3 jobs to survive.  It was a work-from-home position, which meant I was no longer away from the kids morning, afternoon and evening, trying to make enough money to pay our bills.  I was finally able to monitor things like homework and what was for dinner – everyone’s grades improved immediately, and ramen was no longer the staple meal.  I was able to use my degree and experience in life, to help build a successful team while also grow developing a career.

And, through my new job, five years ago, I met Ken.

Ken, my “Dark Shadow”, who has loved me with a selfless love that I had never known before.  He cherishes me.  We will have been married for two years, in February.  Everyday with him, is a joy.  He makes me laugh, he spoils me rotten, he provides for me and for our family.  He invests in my (and now, really, our) kids’ lives.  He tells me that I am beautiful, and that he wants to grow old with me.  He makes me want the years to slow down, because I want to experience so much of life with him – traveling the world and teaming up on projects and enjoying adventures and goofiness and ministry and grandparenting and…….all of it.

January 1, 2020

In just a few hours, this incredibly beautiful, unbelievably difficult, terrifying, , grief and joy filled decade will come to a close.  Some of you may be staring at the year(s) ahead, with despair and fear, shrouded in a fresh cloak of grief.  Others of you may be looking toward the days ahead with excitement and anticipation.

Yet in reality, we don’t know what the next ten years holds.  None of us do.  You don’t.  I don’t.  Tomorrow, any one of us could find our worlds shattered.  Or, we could experience joy beyond our wildest imaginations.  We simply do not know.

What we do know, though, is that God is good.  He is sovereign, in the midst of the joys, the griefs, and all of the the mundane, exhausting, peaceful, exhilarating, and terrifying moments.

And, He is faithful.

The hymn “Great is Thy Faithfulness” has become very important to me, over the last decade.  And, at midnight tonight (if I am still awake – I did turn 50 this year, you know…staying up to midnight is getting harder and harder!), I fully intend to sing these words quietly in my soul: