Missed Opportunities

I can be impulsive. I can be reactive. I can be scared to move forward and make big changes. I am prone to thinking about how a change in my life will affect my kids, most of all. 

I regret not moving forward with the teaching credential. I was scared last fall, and unsure of my next steps. Instead of chasing a dream, and jumping out on a limb, I froze. I stopped myself from moving forward. Now, months later, I'm seeing things in my current job that remind me of why I did not want to keep working in this field. I see missed opportunities to make a change in my life that would impact my mental health, my relationship with my kids, my relationship with my husband, and my sense of self-worth. 

I feel as though I am always reaching for the next thing, but then when it gets close enough to my grasp, I give up. I'm afraid to make that big leap. I'm afraid of failing. I'm afraid of not being perfect, or making a mistake and everyone seeing me fall. 

I don't want to live my life looking back at missed opportunities to make things better. To do better. To make a difference.

I've recently stopped my volunteering with Safe Families and El Roi Foster Ministries. I felt called to pursue becoming a CASA. I think my pull towards that is to have an impact on a child's life in a way that doesn't impact my family by bringing a child into our home and disrupting everyone else's lives. The more I think about becoming a CASA, the more I think I should have pursued the teaching credential so I could make an impact daily with kids that came through my classroom. 

Turning 40 has been a bitch. I feel like I've missed so many chances to be something more, to claim victory over decades-long battles and depression and self-doubt. 

Now that I'm recognizing and realizing this, what's next? Do I start over again? Do I just "stick it out" for 25 more years? 

Have you ever felt like you just missed the biggest opportunity to change your life, and you're frozen out of fear? What did you do? Did you settle or did you chase that dream, and prioritize your own happiness over others that you love? 

Strong Families & Foster Ministries

I'm so thrilled to be writing for a cause! I recently started assisting El Roi Foster Ministries with their social media content, and was able to share my own story with Strong/Safe Families through Olive Crest and El Roi. I'm thankful for the support of my kids and my parents and my nieces and extended family and friends for their participation in supporting me on this journey. One of our volunteers at El Roi has been a host family with Olive Crest for over a decade. Her family's commitment to offering a safe and stable home environment to kids in need is something near and dear to her heart, and the impact of this ministry on her family has been incredible. From memories of helping a child when his own mom was a former foster youth and had no support system, to giving a one-year-old a home for a few months, to respite care for kids whose parents are struggling to get back on their feet, Olive Crest's Strong Families model has given our volunteer's own kids a new perspective on ways that they can help and make a difference for foster youth and kids in crisis. Some of these kids that are hosted through this program are able to experience things they never would otherwise, like amusement park adventures, trips to the snow, and beach days.  

El Roi exists to support foster families, and also recently was able to share resources from the foster closet with this host family, for a recent visitor to their home. From walkers to clothes to diapers to blankets, El Roi wants to be known as a presence in the Temecula Valley, Riverside County, and San Diego County, making a difference one kid, one family, one home at a time. To learn more about Olive Crest's opportunities to get involved, visit  https://www.olivecrest.org/what-we-do-strong-families/.

Word for 2023

 I've done this before, and it's always been a good reminder to me of what to focus on for the year. I chose GRACE a couple of years ago, and it was a time when I really needed to grant myself grace, and give grace to those that I was having a hard time forgetting. I don't like holding on to old hurts and pain, but I found that I had gotten stuck in this place of not fully forgiving others for the pain they'd caused, and not allowing myself the grace to be messy and not perfect all the time. 

This year, my word is VICTORY. 

Webster defines victory as "achievement of mastery or success in a struggle or endeavor against odds or difficulties; the overcoming of an enemy or antagonist."

What do I need victory over? Where does my strength come from in this battle? 

I've been thinking really hard over the past couple of days about the ways in which I throw myself in the fire, and then am unhappy when I'm standing there all alone. Case in point, Safe Families and my post a couple of days ago about my sadness and feeling stuck and like the right thing isn't necessarily the right thing for me or my family anymore. I throw myself into the fire, take on all of the responsibilities and weight, and then get made when people around me are not as willing to jump into the fire with me. 

I need victory over my need to fill all of the needs of everyone in my life at all times. I need victory over my anxiety and depression and my emotional wars raging inside of me on a regular basis. I need victory over my health and my weight and my happiness - the true happiness that comes from liking who I am as a person, inside and out. I need victory over self-medicating with all kinds of different tools. Sweets, alcohol, self-harm, ink therapy, anything to numb the pain or emptiness that I've felt since I was 13 years old. I need victory over feeling like I'm not enough. That what I'm doing in my everyday life is not enough. I need victory over feeling less-than-worthy in so many areas of my life. I need victory over my own self-confidence. The list goes on and on....

Which leads to my next question. Where does my strength come from? I have amazing people in my life that do not believe there is a God. They do not believe in something they cannot see or touch or feel. And I still love them, and know that they love me despite our different beliefs. Because I do believe in one true God that rules heaven and earth, the God that loves me and wants me to be the best version of myself and to serve a higher purpose in His glory, for His good. So that is where I will pull my strength from as I focus on ways to be victorious this year. 

What is your word for 2023? 

https://youtu.be/YNd-PbVhnvA: Elevation Worship

The weapon may be formed But it won't prosper When the darkness falls, it won't prevail 'Cause the God I serve knows only how to triumph My God will never fail Oh, my God will never fail I'm gonna see a victory I'm gonna see a victory For the battle belongs to you Lord I'm gonna see a victory I'm gonna see a victory For the battle belongs to you Lord

What if more isn't right?

 I started this blog a couple months ago with the intention of writing about the things that inspire me to do more, because I still believe that we are all made for more. But, I've got to be honest. This is hard. I have always, since I was a little girl, believed in helping others. My parents did foster care for years when I was growing up, and I always knew it was something I wanted to do. I talked to Nick about it before we got married, he knew the passion that I had to help kids in this way, and the reasons why. He knew my brother, who without foster care, I would never have been able to call my brother. So we decided together to become a host family through Olive Crest's Safe Families for Children program about a year after we got married. Over the years, it's been hard. Some kids tug at your heart strings, some of the biological parents aren't trying to get their stuff together, and so it's doubly hard to give the kids back when you know they are most likely going to struggle in more ways than one. But it's always been something on my heart. Something I wanted to do, and I wanted my kids to experience. The impact of my parents doing foster care when I was a kid has absolutely left a deep imprint on my heart. I wanted to give that to my kids also.

We took a long break from hosting kids through SF when Micah and Jaxon were born, and again about six months ago when it just became too much of a wedge in our family. My husband doesn't like the effects it has on me (or some of our kids) when a kid leaves, and I think he also doesn't like to open himself up to get attached and then have a kid leave. But one thing that is really hard for me is feeling like I am doing this all alone. I have the support of my parents, and usually my kids are very helpful and want to give back in this way too. But it's a weight that I carry on my own. It's a desire of my heart to make an impact on those less fortunate than us, especially kids. This seemed like the perfect way to do just that. But it's so exhausting, and I have four kids of my own who need me. I just feel so torn all the time about this. What if doing more, being made for more, pushing yourself to fulfill that "more" space, is actually tearing you apart? Or destroying your relationships? Or actually traumatizing your kids more than it is inspiring them to do more and be better? 

I am the queen of doing something, and immediately regretting it. I take on everything, and then am crushed by the weight of it. I don't want to do that anymore, but I don't know how to fulfill this purpose, to be living out my made for more, while still maintaining peace in my own home. What if more just isn't right for me? What if my more is actually something that I've been doing all along, in my own home, and I need to do it better? How could I have this burning passion for fostering, and it not be the right thing? 

We're hosting a little girl right now. She's 9-months-old.  And I feel like taking care of her has pulled me away from my own kids. I'm missing sports games, I'm cranky with them, and I'm just not as present as I'd like to be. But shouldn't there be a way to balance it all? If I had a willing partner, sure. But I don't. So does that mean my passion for foster care dies to keep my marriage on solid ground? I'm really sad and really feel stuck and alone in this mission. I know there are a million other people who do what I'm doing, and they do it as a team with their partner. I think back to the first couple of hostings that we did, and there was a different vibe. Maybe because we only had two kids then, and there was more energy and love and hope to go around. Maybe my more has changed. My way to give back to foster youth and my contributions maybe have changed? I just don't know anymore. The burden is so heavy t ocarry all alone, and the weight of feeling like I've failed is even heavier. 

Being enough

 My husband and I celebrated 12 years married yesterday. Sometimes it feels like 12 years is nothing, and other times it feels like 12 years is a lifetime. Marriage is 100% the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I have had two vastly different experiences with marriage. And I can tell you with certainty that the hardest things are often the ones that pay off the most in the end. 

Let me start with my first marriage. I got married when I was 19 years old (don't recommend) to my high school sweetheart (who wasn't always that sweet to me). We met when I was 16, and getting married at 19 is not something I would recommend to most people for a variety of reasons. I do not regret one minute of my time with him, because we created two of my very favorite human beings together. But I do advise my teenagers to not marry the first person they fall in love with on a regular basis. It's just not happily ever after for most people. I do know a few unicorns who met in high school just like we did and are still happily married. They are the exceptions, not the norm. I admire them beyond belief for being able to grow up together, something my first husband and I were not able to do once the twins were born and priorities needed to shift. 

I was with my first husband for just under 10 years. Our divorce was finalized about two months before my 26th birthday. The twins were 18 months old. It was a whirlwind of emotions and stress and chaos that probably would have looked a lot different if we were both ten years older when we met and split up. But again, no regrets because it got me to where I am today. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss the ups and downs, the crushing emotions of that first love. The obsession with being next to that person all the time, the flutter of nerves with experiencing firsts together, and the realization that once I became a mom, the whole world shifted to be focused on these two little humans, not myself and not my partner (at least for the time being - that always shifts back and forth, there's an ebb and flow, but babies need you 100% of the time, and I was all-in for that role). But, I also don't miss the really low feelings of disappointment, betrayal, broken-heartedness, and absolute despair when our marriage crumbled. That was like a hurricane to my heart, and the only boy I'd ever loved was now my ex-husband, and oftentimes, my biggest challenge when it came to co-parenting and just co-existing in this new normal for us. There were so many feelings wrapped up in that one person, that I had a hard time opening up to anyone else for a very long time. I never wanted to experience that again. 

A little over a year after my first marriage was officially declared over by a court of law, I met my future (second) husband. The one that I couldn't have possibly appreciated before experiencing the whirlwind of my first love. This man was steady in a way that I had never known before. Sometimes what I view(ed) as void of emotions is actually a really thick wall of not letting emotions dictate his actions. Something I still have not mastered. My husband and I dated for about a year and then got engaged and were married three months later. So altogether, we knew each other for about 18 months before we were legally bound to each other. 18 months is not that long in the big scheme of things, and 18 months was not long enough for him to see all the ups and downs of someone who lives with depression and anxiety. We have struggled over the years with communication, but on days like yesterday, when we are able to just be and not have the stress of raising four kids and teaching them to be good humans, or paying bills and stretching things as far as they can go for a family of six to enjoy life and not just live it, those days are the ones that I hold close. Days like yesterday when we really didn't do anything crazy or new, but just were able to do some of our favorite things together without the rush of getting to somewhere, and just being us, was a great reminder of the man that I married, and the way that his presence just makes me feel safe. It's a comfortable love, a love that will last a lifetime. The first love, that one has a tendency to burn fast and crash hard. It took some time for me to accept this kind of love, the kind that I don't have to necessarily earn or beg for, but is just there, ready and willing with open arms when I need it. 

So today, as I think about the last twelve years being married to my best friend, and the ways that I have taken that relationship for granted or demanded it be more, I am grateful that it is what it is. That it doesn't demand more of me than I am able to give. That it doesn't require me to earn it, or prove myself worthy of it. I don't have to be anything other than myself, and that's enough. I am enough. And he reminds me of that whenever I'm willing to listen. 

Perfect timing

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" (Jeremiah 29:11)

Being raised in a conservative(ish) Christian home (that ish is for you, Mom), there were certain expectations to behave in appropriate ways, to avoid cursing or punching your sibling or sneaking out, or other reckless and deviant behavior. I grew up going to church, and always believed in Jesus. But, of course, in true rebellious middle child fashion, I pushed what I knew to be true to the side, and often waged war within myself over who and what I was supposed to be. 

In this season of waiting that I was so frustrated by yesterday, I've found such joy in connecting with the ministry leader I wrote about a couple of weeks ago. I feel my bucket filling up, my soul rejoicing at the possibilities that are coming my way with working as part of a team who shares the same hopes and dreams for making a difference. It's like a meeting of kindred spirits when you find someone who is passionate about similar causes and shares a heart for the people that have always touched your soul in a special way. 

And, the cherry on top is that my involvement with this amazing organization allows me to use my creative writing muscle, something I miss so much in the day-to-day of my "regular" 9-5 job. Something I don't get to utilize often when I'm doing the mom thing or chauffeuring kids to volleyball or school or soccer or other activities. I can feel my heart leaping inside my chest, at the prospect of what this new path is opening up for me. 

I've been searching for awhile to fill a void, that passion project that I know I needed. I think I got in my own way a lot of the time, but no more! I am here for this. I am present and ready and engaged and so excited. I know that God does have a plan for me. He wants me to have hope, and even more, he wants me to inspire hope in others. He wants me to have a future, and prosper, and share His message and joy and love with others around me. 

My cup is full. So thankful for doors opening, even when others are shutting. So grateful for new people who could really change my life, and vice versa. Open to the possibilities, and excited for the changes coming. God's timing is always so much better than ours. It's His perfect timing. We just have to be open to it, and willing to step out in faith when it's time. 

Seasons of waiting

 The waiting is so incredibly hard for me. I like to complain (I say mostly in a joking way) that I never have a free minute to just sit still and relax. But in all honesty, I feel most valuable when I'm productive and making things happen and checking things off the to-do list. I'm a busy person, with four kids in sports, a full-time job, two dogs who like to fight like siblings, and I continue to think "what more can I take on? How can I fill my plate to capacity?". I am curently in the middle of a season of waiting, and it's so difficult for me! 

I've put some feelers out there to start volunteering with different organizations, and I'm excited to get involved somehow with foster care, aged out foster youth, or other organizations with a passion for this area. I have to put the brakes on myself sometimes, because I get so excited about something new, and want to dive right in, and instead of just being able to sit and CHILL, I start spinning my wheels looking for something else I can get caught up in. I think I'm so used to the busy-ness, that I can't function as well without it. And then, eventually, I just crash and burn, or fall asleep for 12 hours after a few months of running myself ragged. 

What is this? Why do I keep doing it to myself? Why can't I just sit and be content in the moment? Is it a generational thing? Is it a work ethic thing? Is it a side-effect of wanting to prove my worth to the people in my life, so I just hustle and don't stop? Is it a "keeping up with the Jones' mom thing" and wanting to out-mom everyone else? 

I wish I knew the answer. Because it's exhausting. Like a hamster on a wheel, and I can't get off the wheel. I can't stop moving, for fear that I might have to deal with some of my own "stuff" if I stop the chasing of other pursuits. 

I was recently told something really cool at my annual review at work. I was given positive feedback, and instead of being able to just take that compliment, I'm finding myself in chase mode today. Maybe it's a symptom of the holidays, of the busy schedules and chasing of events and things to do, and ways to bring the Christmas joy into our kids' lives. Seeing Christmas lights, finding Christmas activities, visiting Santa, different family Christmas events, and the list goes on....

Some day, when I grow up, I want to learn the subtle art of chilling out. Sitting back, relaxing, not having to fill my cup with something to drink to make the day more "fun", or busying myself with a housecleaning chore, an organizational project, or a clean-out of drawers and closets and general doing of things. 

Seasons of waiting are really difficult for an overachiever, a people-pleaser, an [overly] emotional person who feels all the things of the people around her, and this time of year is so tricky already. 

What do you do in your seasons of waiting to find peace and contentment with the spot you're in, rather than chasing the next exciting opportunity or event?