I have been thinking for quite some time that I needed to do this. I’ve heard it’s therapeutic. Lord knows, I need therapy….of many kinds. Everyday I’ve thought about my first posting. Should I be anonymous? Could I even be anonymous? Will I keep it up? How will I share it? Facebook? Twitter? Do I want my friends and acquaintances knowing some of these personal venues of my life?
I knew I needed to do this about a year ago when I, along with my newly-turned- two year old, went to Chick-Fil-A for lunch. I went to open my bag (haven't seen a purse in years) to get money and out falls my underwear. No worries, this won’t be as kinky as it could be. Rewind….Our then-two-year-old had a doctor’s appointment an hour away that day. As I am rushing to take a shower before Dad (my husband) leaves for the day, I run to the laundry room to grab clean clothes (not much folding goes on here). Dad asks for some money so on the way to the bathroom, I stop at my bag to give him money. I hop in the shower and put on my robe till I’m ready to get dressed. I KNOW I had underwear in my hands at one point, not enough time to keep looking, grab a new pair and out the door….
These things happen often. They make me laugh. I know it was God’s intention. I believe the saying “everything happens for a reason”…even finding underwear in my purse. Because very simply put….If I didn’t laugh, I’d cry.
I know everyone has a story. I want to share mine. My husband and I met in high school. By any means, I wouldn’t say we were sweethearts. I first noticed him on the football field during a game I was at with my boyfriend. We were off and on for two years. We dated for several years and wed in 1997. We soon found property in the country and began building a home. A few months after breaking ground he suffered a stroke at the age of 23. He had deficiencies for several weeks and stayed in the hospital until he recovered. During this time, our lender contacted us to tell us they must have written the contractor’s license number wrong. No,it wasn’t wrong. It was a bad number. The contractor did not have a valid number. There we sat with no contractor and a not even half built home. My husband was in no condition to take part in trying to do it himself. But, we tried. We emptied savings, borrowed more money. THEN, more news….I was pregnant! Wow, we can still handle this, we thought. Forward 14 weeks to Valentine’s day and a romantic day spent together in a coastal town. We came home and went to bed. I got up to go to the bathroom and began hemorrhaging. That began a two-year quest to be a Mother again. One we met with great difficulty (and mild fertility drugs). Within the next eighteen months, we would both lose our jobs and eventually return the house to the lender.
I became pregnant again and had a baby boy (oh how we prayed for a boy, selfish, I know). In the next 14 years we would experience broken bones (we can handle this), DVTs (a little harder to handle), seizures, (much harder to handle), our son being diagnosed with an ASD (even harder to hear), birth of another boy (yes, we prayed for another boy and yes, still selfish, I know), the death of a parent, a fire, an unexpected layoff, reentering of college, a diagnosis of juvenile diabetes for our first son, heartache and heartbreak. I’ve never lost faith. I KNOW it could be worse. God is keeping us one foot from destruction. Someone recently told me that I reminded him of the good guy in the movies who is running on a bridge and the bridge is quickly collapsing behind him. That’s how I feel most (all, really) of the time. The good news is the good guy always makes it to the other side……