I'm very private about my private family affairs. I've kept this blog light and sweet, sharing some of our adventures and photographs that I've taken of happy people and pretty things. That's going to change. At least just for today. This is really scary to click "publish" on this one. After my brother's wedding I was able to edit it- for the better- and I have hope that peace and contentment are possible even in the midst of a crappy situation.
Three years ago my family started to fall apart right around the time that Dan started touring and we moved out of the home we owned. My life, everything I knew, had changed and I was a total mess. Everything was out of control, out of my control. I look back at those times and they're a blur but with intense moments of clarity. Endless crying, trying everything to ignore how much I hurt. I prayed. I plead with God everyday to make it stop. I still remember almost every detail about that phone call from my dad; I remember every word, where I was, what I was wearing, what I was feeling. He moved onto the yacht he had just bought. The summer was uncomfortable. My 27th birthday was spent with both parents and some of my oldest friends, jumping off the deck of that boat into the cool Columbia River, pretending it wasn't awkward that my mom and dad didn't live with each other anymore.
The divorce was final nearly a year ago. Making plans and trying to make everyone happy. To be fair. But, it's not fair; I didn't choose this. And sometimes, honestly, I want to walk away from it all. I miss our old, normal life. Most of the time I just put on a half-hearted smile. Most of the time I do it for BB. This is our new normal and I'm trying to figure it out, to be a leader for my siblings because family is important.
"Hi, I'm 30 years old and I'm from a broken home."
It's really, really hard. I know that many people have been in my shoes. I'm praying that God will give us joy and peace - even three years later when the hurt and discomfort is still there.
This is a poem for hope which was written by a woman who was blind, suffering from cancer and orphaned:
"He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater.
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase.
To added affliction He addeth his mercy.
To multiplied trials is multiplied peace.
When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed at the day's half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
Our Father's forgiving has only begun.
His love has no limits.
His grace has no measure.
His power has no boundaries known unto men.
For out of his infinite richness in Jesus,
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again." - Annie Flint
"Hi, I'm 30 years old and I'm from a broken home. And, it's going to be okay."