The Childless Stepmom | An Advocate For Wisdom & Growth
First you need to know that The Childless Stepmom is ME, not my purpose. I seek to reach all members in a blended family. Here’s why. I originally created the “The Childless Stepmom” community to reach a little known sector of women who desperately could use the support – the childless stepmoms.
I think I’d like to start first by saying that this group is often on my mind. Some of you are complete strangers who know nothing about me and only have “liked” because you think this content may pertain to you. Others, whether we’ve met in person or not, know me deeply. Intimately. Know my true heart. My struggle. My pain, anguish, defeat and also – my victory. But I am writing to all of you today.
This group got very large very quickly – which leads me to believe what I already knew so many years ago – blended families are everywhere – and childless stepmoms especially need some direction. A voice. A safe place to be heard.
The reason I never opened this group up for people to post on is because I was protective of you. SO MANY PEOPLE are blindingly ignorant when it comes to the real stress in a blended family that they are hateful and they are demeaning and they share their “wisdom” in ugly ways. Which is really not helpful – and a lot of times, not even true. So I hope you know that I’m not hoarding you. When I started this group, the purpose was actually just to use as an outlet for me to vent and find (please dear God if they existed!) people like you who would understand my childless stepmom struggle.
I believe that I know more and more each day that the direction I want to take this group is more down a path of healing and growing than ever before. I have always promised that I would post with integrity. I would be honest and real and I would speak from my heart. If a follower was ugly, they were booted – it was pretty simple.
I am a wealth of blended family knowledge. I am the one people STILL go to for custody, divorce, marriage and parenting advice – even though I haven’t really been a stepmom in almost 3 years. And I can assure you those statements are not cocky. The reason I am such a wealth of knowledge isn’t anything I planned on. It’s everything I fought through and had to figure out on my own. I am a woman who spent hundreds of miserable hours, thousands of dollars, and countless sleepless nights getting it all wrong. I share with you now from a place of “your court case / child / marriage will look like this, please make better choices than I did.”
Now, if you haven’t spent any time reviewing my story, here is the extra short version:
I grew up in an alcoholic home. I was bred to be codependent. I was young and ignorant and learned to equate “pity” with “love” when I got married. I pitied a man with a beautiful toddler boy with a very sick biological mother and I fell completely in love with that toddler boy, and with protecting with my LIFE, that toddler boy. So I got married, too fast. And I tried to be a mom, too fast. And I spent years in ugly, exhausting and probably mostly none of my business custody battles. Biological mom was a drug user and not in the picture. I was a custodial childless stepmom, called “Mom” for several years. I was all that boy had known as a mother until he was 9 years old. My ex husband was a borderline personality disordered man who had before me (and continues to after me) burned through countless relationships. I divorced him after nearly 6 years. I survived parental alienation. Barely. I lost my son. My character was assassinated. Everything I once knew was gone. I picked myself up. And I stand. Many people who turned on me now know the truth. Vindicating, but I would prefer my son.
We just passed my 8th year in therapy. Eight. Years. So much to unpack. So much to heal.
So first, what you probably need to hear: you’re not crazy. You are probably not entirely wrong in your perspective. You love these kids (or you’re trying to figure out how). You are at odds with the other parent(s). Your financial bank account and emotional bank account is dwindling. You have either a terrible attorney, or a great one but you hate listening to them. You hate the family court system and believe you’re a victim to it.
If any of this resonates with you, I get it. I so completely get it.
I felt it might be appropriate today to let some of you who have been there from the very beginning to know that I am still here. You matter deeply. And I want to continue sharing resources with you.
However, I am about to remarry. Neither of us have biological children. On some level, we are ready for a fresh start. A GREAT deal of issues with custody, kids and exes bring back ugly memories for me that I am still deciding what to do with. Now, this is not about a lack of healing, rather a lack of placement. All those years, they are a part of me. But they are not all of me. So if I do not respond right away or I go periods without posting, it’s because I am navigating this new chapter. Please extend grace for me through it. Reliving trauma is really not easy for any person. And I also don’t willingly invite it. I guess I share all of that so you know where I’m coming from on the front end.
I get TONS of requests for advice. I am not by any means the only source for quality advice, and I encourage you to seek out ANYONE you can who can lead you, who can show you. There are so many good, strong women (and men) who have amazing things to share with you!
All that I did differently to grow this group was be honest and vulnerable and demand that you get smarter. As I’ve aged and had more experiences, I tend to shoot people even more straight than I did before! We spend hours fighting on nonsense, and demanding that the court see our view instead of becoming stronger, smarter and more courageous. I walked a very dark and long road to become the best woman I could be. The best person I could be. That is where my life truly changed. You can find this too. Don’t give up searching and growing. And thank you for being here.
When your character is assassinated and your soul is ripped out and you’re broke and you’re tired and flashes of broken hearts can be seen through your child’s eyes – your reaction is usually war, not steps forward in contentment.
I’ve been wrestling with writing. I quit because I don’t want to be known as the divorcee or former stepmother, or the broken, tattered, worn woman who used to be full of passion. I don’t want to spend a ton of time explaining to you the path that brought me back to the page but I do want to share this with you.
It’s a tale of the high road.
I get to marry the most incredible man I’ve ever met next year. Finding our way to each other was no easy task. Some people seem to bump into their soul mate seamlessly. We don’t have that story. We are both divorced, and had to claw our way out of deep, dark pits. Emotionally. Physically. Financially. Spiritually. And one day, after a few years had passed and when things were just starting to come together, so did we.
I was not easy to love, nor was my heart entirely available. I was scared and guarded. He was patient and kind. It didn’t take long for me to tell him about my Little Bear. Losing my son is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me and I still suffer immense PTSD over the loss. I have nightmares that I am looking for him and can’t find him. I often remember distinct moments about our time together and it paralyzes me. I still cry often. But I believe strongly that when he is an adult and capable of making his own decisions, he will come looking for answers, and will find his way back to me. As such, I have built a life that will ALWAYS have room for him in it if he wishes to reconnect one day.
I was not quiet about this place that exists in my heart only for my son. I was clear that any man who would want to be with me would have to accept not only that I had a son, but one who may one day show up looking for answers. And they had to be willing to invite him in with me if he did. This was an absolute necessity in my be-with-me-criteria. Several men had tried to date me post-divorce but none of them could hold a candle to my man. They were intimidated by this place in my heart and they weren’t entirely comfortable with leaving the door open for my boy or tolerating possible discussions with my ex-husband regarding it.
I soon realized why my man was okay with leaving the door open for my boy. It’s because once upon a time, was a very similar boy. A child of divorce; no stranger to alienation. He had to learn on his own terms the truth about his parent’s divorce and the truth about their character. He was abandoned in a million ways and left to fight through lies and at times, poverty.
When he grew into an adult, he realized the amount of work his father put into fighting for him. The countless hours he spent trying to make life better for him, trying to support him financially and the boulder he was pushing uphill in character assassination on the regular.
I knew immediately that he and his father were close, but I didn’t understand why until he saw my first complete meltdown regarding my son. I still wake up from horrible nightmares about him or begin crying in the grocery store during back to school shopping or get paralyzed in certain situations where I am brought right back to a life I once knew as an extremely devoted mother. I have woken up more than once in tears. Unexplainable tears, where I just want my child back and the pain is overwhelming. Each time, he has held me and he shows me all that a man truly is. I waited my whole life for this kind of strength, character and integrity in a partner. He proved to me almost instantly that he would never stoop to that absolutely pathetic level where one uses a child against another.
The best man. The high road. The beginning.
My guard began coming down. Not all people are out to ruin lives, friends. And when we find ones who protect our hearts and aren’t drowning in narcissism, we hang on tightly.
I can’t even tell you how fast I knew I wanted to marry this man. We actually went to middle school together and have lots of mutual connections – which made this idea less terrifying for me. Having dealt with the grandest of bait and switches in my first marriage, the thought of committing to a con-artist again was overwhelming. But, we built a foundation that I’d never known before. It was not lust. It was not sick. It was nothing other than entirely right. Even still, he would not entertain marriage discussions until he asked my father for his blessing. He planned an entire meal with my parents without my knowledge, to ask them if he could marry me.
The best man. The high road.
When we got engaged, he was adamant that his father would be his best man in our wedding. It was not even a question for him. In fact, I said I didn’t want a bridal party or all the big flashy wedding pieces, I only wanted him. I was quite comfortable with a simple small celebration.
But this man is a saint. He knew how important it was for my father to walk me down the aisle. For my mother, who I nearly lost in 2015, to see me at the bridal boutiques and make memories together. For my dearest friends to enjoy all of the beauty that a real, full, God-breathed wedding can bring. So I conceded. When he asked his father to be the best man, he put their picture in a frame and wrote him a card. For a man who doesn’t cry, his dad was overcome with emotion. Probably more than my fiancé could ever know. I LONG for the kind of reconciliation that was displayed in that moment. That healing. To know it all mattered. To know that I made it. And that my son knows how desperately I love him.
And I am constantly brought back to this:
Shortcuts are for the weak. Mudslinging is for children. The best man always wins.
Now, not every story is like this. I am still without my son. I know many INCREDIBLE men and women who are hurting every single day apart from their children. But I do know one thing, we have a choice. We can be bitter and hateful and hopeless. We can continue to climb barbed wire fences and go away every single time bleeding and defeated. Or we can live our truth and trust our truth.
When I asked my fiancé what it was about his father that made him want to choose him for such a special place in the wedding, he said without pause – he is my hero.
It took over 30 years for my soon-to-be father in law to have this moment. And that is a LOT of perseverance. But he knew his truth. He knew that the high road was not a sure thing, but it was the most likely route to victory. After repeated losses friends, there is only one win that truly matters – and that is what prevails in the end.
So that is what is on my heart to share with you today. I have not given up on my son, but I have given up on a fight I can’t win – the fight with his father. Because the fight was never with his father. I wasted so much energy fighting his father, his reality, his sabotage, his truth.
The fight should have been with myself. With my tendency to be defeated. To allow a defamation of character to paralyze me, or to think that the truth is not as absolutely powerful as it is.
So that is where I’d like to start contributing to the group again. You won’t hear me slandering my ex husband, in fact, my hope is that an overwhelming light of truth pours over him and he can break out of this cage he lives in. But that is all the attention he will ever get from me again – my well wishes and a send off.
From now on, I will spend every waking moment becoming the passionate, truth demanding, force to be reckoned with that I was created to be. With a man of honor by my side, and a family we hope to build that can’t be touched by the pettiness we are all so familiar with. And one day, God willing, that space for my boy will be filled, restored and a new story will be written. Because I’m the type of woman who won’t let anyone define my truth for me.
I told myself that the only way I’d consider coming back to write is if I could put the past to bed and focus on the beauty in my future.
This is my new beginning. Join me. And never look back.
Along your journey you will find many well-meaning (and some not-so-well-meaning) individuals who have an opinion about your situation.
Try as we might, often times their opinions affect us, but they don’t help us. They don’t help us because they don’t get it. You’ll encounter PLENTY of people who, quite simply, don’t get it.
One of the most common things I hear from people is how many people don’t get it. They can’t relate and their ‘advice’ sends them backwards or at the very least frustrates them.
I’d like to share with you my rule, which is easier said than implemented : if they don’t know my heart I don’t take it to heart.
I still feel like I’ve been punched in the gut when someone waves their negative opinion around in front of me, especially if its misguided or unhealthy. It’s HARD to silence that. I’ve allowed myself to be vulnerable to thousands of strangers here and in doing so opened myself up to a great deal of criticism over the years. I stay at this because there are far more people who I believe I’m helping than are just here because they need a punching bag.
How do I maintain a thick skin? How do I keep moving forward? I do this because I keep a close group of warriors in my life who are always infusing me with truth, so everything must first pass through that truth filter. This is how we protect our hearts and remember our self worth. I am challenged as much as I’m encouraged, but I’m never fed lies. Nor does my circle allow me to sit in lies. We do this for each other because we get it. You want to surround yourself with people who get it, so you have the strength to keep climbing.
Some people don’t know how invalidating it is to hear, “you knew what you were getting into.”
But I do.
Some people don’t know what it’s like to be a stepmom, or a mom who’s been replaced.
But I do.
Some people don’t know that being an alienated parent means your soul is fighting through hell and you don’t want to get out of bed because half your heart is missing.
But I do.
Some people don’t understand that custody battles and parenting time schedules and simple communication is so freaking exhausting sometimes you just want to quit.
But I do.
Some people don’t understand domestic violence, emotional abuse, and fighting to stay afloat.
But I do.
Some people don’t understand how defeating it is to pour into your marriage and receive what feels like only mocking for your efforts.
But I do.
Some people don’t understand what it’s like to want a child so bad but be denied over and over.
But I do.
You see, there’s still a part of me that hurts when people don’t get it, but I stay tightly bonded to the ones that do, and set appropriate boundaries with the ones that don’t.
So the next time you’re feeling down because someone else just doesn’t get it – pour that energy into finding people who do. They will serve as a foundation of truth, self care and wisdom. You need this to be in relationship with others.
Don’t let people tatter your heart who don’t know your heart. They’re fighting their own battles and if they aren’t lifting you up, they shouldn’t be close anyway. There’s only so many seats at your table. Save them for those who are wise counselors and truth soldiers only.
Living with integrity simply means that what you say and what you do are the same. That you walk in truth. That you are a safe, trustworthy, whole individual. That you have a moral compass and are not afraid to use it. And that you choose what is right over what is popular.
It doesn’t mean stretching the truth.
It doesn’t mean taking advantage of others.
It doesn’t mean hiding your own truth for the comfort of others.
It doesn’t mean manipulating others.
It doesn’t mean pretending.
It doesn’t mean being a chameleon because you don’t really know who you are.
And it definitely doesn’t mean crushing others in an attempt to hide your own flaws.
It takes courage to say no, when you mean no.
It takes courage to stand up for truth and justice.
It takes courage to care about others; to realize you are not the center of the universe.
It takes courage to be faithful in relationships.
It takes courage to understand and exercise delayed gratification.
Integrity literally requires relationships with others who challenge you. With others who can call you out. With others who don’t passively comply. If you don’t have this, I promise you, you don’t have integrity. A lone man, wise in his own eyes, can never be his best.
The weak are indicted by integrity. They hide from it. They slander it. They mock it.
But they don’t possess it.
People who do possess integrity often expel a great deal of their precious energy trying to reconcile the behavior of those who don’t. There is nothing to reconcile here. Not everyone has courage, and therefore, not everyone has integrity.
That precious energy instead should be placed into 2 areas:
Learning about safe vs. unsafe people. Becoming safe ourselves and setting appropriate boundaries with those who are not.
Investing in safe people. Living in community with safe people. Growing with and refining other safe people.
The fact is that weak people are not safe and not everyone deserves your best. Learning to implement grace and truth in your life and with everyone you meet is the greatest work you’ll ever do.
Not everyone will get it, but plenty of peoplethink they’ve got it. They keep a circle of “yes men” and cut out anyone who challenges them. They live in secret. They are small. They are ignorant. This is the opposite of integrity.
You may stop reading right at the moment that I add Scripture, but let me tell you, not only does the Lord hate the following, but so do ALL people who are truly of integrity…
There are six things the Lord hates, seven that are detestable to him:
a lying tongue,
hands that shed innocent blood,
a heart that devises wicked schemes,
feet that are quick to rush into evil,
a false witness who pours out lies,
and a man who stirs up dissension among brothers.
I could go on all flipping day about that but, just like how integrity is black and white, so is that list. You either get it or you don’t. You either practice it or you don’t.
Every single day we can choose courage or we can choose weakness. Choose wisely.
June of 2012 was the first time my former husband threatened my life. Things were out of control and falling apart more rapidly than I could have ever predicted. I was the target of extreme mood swings, name calling, incessant phone calls, emails, texts, emotional instability and accusations. I was being manipulated, lied to, lied about and pitted against in my own home. But I didn’t understand dysfunction, emotional abuse, gas-lighting, personality disorders or the like. At the time I just wondered what was wrong with me. How had I come to deserve this? I believed him when he said it was all my fault. I believed him when he said I was worthless. So what could I do to fix me and save my marriage?
As I scrambled to find my bearings back in June 2012 and understand what was happening, I started this blog and community. Since then The Childless Stepmom has grown to a community of thousands. I tried to document my journey through the years as truthfully as possible, showing how valuable personal growth was. How much my life had changed since getting some serious therapy. How different things were when I was able to forgive and understand my role. How I’d set my heart and mind appropriately regarding marriage, raising children, and dealing with biological mothers who I was then forever attached to.
Years later, we are now divorced. A child I raised as my own for 6 years has been entirely ripped out of my life. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. Every attempt at reasonable conversation, or even the permission to send a birthday card, has been ignored. My former husband was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, though I see plenty of narcissistic traits, among other things. My codependency issues were throwing gasoline on that fire for years. When I started to face the mirror, get myself emotionally stable, and assert appropriate boundaries, my former husband retaliated. And he retaliated with the only weapon he had against me; the child who called me Mom.
My passion about informing others and breaking the cycle of dysfunction has only grown stronger. “The childless stepmom” name has only become more fitting. Once upon a time I was a stepmom, and a hell of a good one. As it stands now, I am childless entirely.
The other day I calculated that I have about $10,000 worth of talk therapy behind me. Whoa. Needless to say, my therapist and I are pretty tight. She taught me more than I could ever put into words and even comes to me from time to time for resources for her other clients because I have become so passionate about growth and I want to help others. There is no greater compliment, truly. After 6 years of relationship and emotional intelligence training, plenty of books, groups, mentors, and wise counselors, you can see why I’m so passionate about living a joyful and healthy life.
When I start to get sour about all that I lost in that marriage, I think of all that I gained. I am a different person now. I attempt to live full of humility and grace, sharing wisdom where it’s requested and love and truth and light. These days I facilitate classes on relationships at my church, and mentor those who come to me looking for guidance. Having spent so much time in a cage, being able to speak freely on these topics is liberating.
I feel it’s valuable to share this with you because you deserve to know the character of the woman behind these posts. This is who I am.
I am someone who now understands the biological mom (“bio-mom” or “BM”) perspective. It may be a difficult pill to swallow, but I now understand far more about BM than I ever did. And truthfully, she wasn’t entirely wrong. Plenty dysfunctional, but not entirely wrong. She warned me that he wouldn’t be faithful. She warned me that he wouldn’t be emotionally stable. She warned me that what had been done to a slew of women before me, would also be done to me. She was right. He was engaged to his next victim within months of our split, a woman who has no idea what she is about to walk into. I have a special place in my heart for the “former woman”, as the person who is now looked at as the “crazy ex” who just wants to spoil things. I assure you, that is not always the case with these women.
On the other hand, I now am a target of extreme alienation and invalidation. I am a survivor. I have loved and falsely believed I was loved by, someone who has been considered an emotional child, devoid of any empathy, unable to truly love at all. Someone who slung false allegations around like he was blowing bubbles. Someone who was described as merely “a kid running with scissors.” But those scissors were strong enough to impale my heart, and trash my relationship with my boy. Someone who seemed to always slip out from under any accountability and leave the innocent looking insane. Yes. I’ve seen that too. So when I hear that someone in your life may exhibit these qualities, and that you truly believe that they are “crazy” – honestly, I do understand.
I have been lied about; my character assassinated.
I had a “partner” who was anything but – parenting with him was like pushing against a freight train.
I had a mother in law who once thought I was the greatest thing on the planet, only to turn on me, all the while knowing I was being hurt unfairly. She soon wrote me off and showered all that old adoration for me onto his new partner.
I have seen blended family marriages thrive, and I have seen them fail. I could tell you the differences in these relationships with ease.
I have been in a marriage with someone who swore to the whole world he was trying his hardest, and I was the reason he was forced to react with such hatred. He was faithful, honest and genuine, he claimed. Later, I caught him in attempts to pick up numerous women while we were still married, using the phone that I paid for. He even tried to pick up one of my very best friends (also a bridesmaid in our wedding) on a dating website. There was no limit to how he played me for a fool and stripped me of everything I had.
Every day that passes, I lose time with my former stepson, who was the light of my entire life. My family and friends feel this surge like an earthquake, tearing all of our hearts. But he must keep his lie alive, so he blocked me from all communication – so he can claim that I don’t try to reach out, yet threatening me if I do. It’s all a mind-game. One that I thankfully unhooked from, but those hooks leave very deep scars.
As a God trusting woman, I have set my faith in Him to provide, and to be just. But no matter your spiritual affiliation, the fact remains that you cannot put evil out into the world and have it never return to you. One day, the truth will surface, as it always does.
I write this today to share with you that I’ve decided to continue with the blog, and with sharing my story. I have been told I have helped many and I believe the bravest thing we can do is to share our story. Too many people are walking this planet without relationship skills, they are tattering marriages, tattering children and are living in complete misery. I will keep exuding light where I believe I can. I just wanted to be sure I was clear about why I post what I post. You may see me posting about personality disorders, about co-parenting, about accountability, faith, and most of all goodness. The world needs more goodness. I am also open to any suggestions about what you’d like me to write about. Any questions you may have, I will do my best to answer them from my own experience.
I am not a licensed therapist. I have no shortage of experience and training, however. I have had several years of relationship centered therapy, DivorceCare Recovery, Codependency Recovery and a slew of other training including conflict resolution and boundary establishment. I spent years of my life and thousands of dollars in court over custody battles. I am a survivor of an extremely emotionally abusive marriage. I am in close community with hundreds of others who have been brave enough to share their stories with me and helped me glean wisdom off of them. I also humbly ask you for your wisdom, the purpose of life is to live it with others and learn from others. That is why I will always keep the group open to all members of a blended family. It’s even open to those who only have experience with a loved one being in a blended family, because all experience is truly valuable.
While some of this may sound like the musings of a bitter ex wife, I have actually never been more hopeful. I genuinely forgive those who wrecked me out of ignorance and I believe with every piece of me truly that we reap what we sow. My heart will remain open to a reconciliation one day should their hearts turn, but for now I send them off in peace. I have done the difficult work and it was well worth it. I intend to keep telling my story. I intend to be as genuine as I can, while also being fair, honest, and respectful of all other parties. But, no more hiding. I lived in a cage for years and if I can help another person avoid that trap, I will. I now enjoy thriving, exceptional, healthy and functional relationships, and my heart is so joyful. I’d like to share it with you.
A divorce isn’t just an event. It’s a series of events. A roller coaster of ugly, confusing, soul sucking, unstable, painful events.
This has been a very dark time for me. The last time I saw my boy was marked by another outburst of emotion and hatred from his father; something I was so used to.
And then my baby was gone.
I didn’t even get to say goodbye.
There were a solid few weeks that I barely got out of bed. I stared at the ceiling and prayed. I tried to overwrite the enemy’s lies with the Truths of our Father. Every day was a struggle. I would go to work, or any required activities, counting down the moments until I could get back in bed.
Slowly I climbed out of this disgusting pit. People were in awe of my faith; of my hope. They were in awe of how I could stay so graceful in the face of such a mess. The truth is, it takes everything in me not to scream from the mountaintops the things my ex husband has done, and continues to do to me. Every bone in my body wants justice. Every bone in my body is full of equal parts hurt and disgust. In my flesh – I want the world to know what happened and why we are here.
But mudslinging is child’s play, and God knows the facts.
So I sat quietly. And behaved like a good Christian. Good Christians do not have hate pumping throughout their veins. Good Christians forgive. Good Christians pray properly. Good Christians remain joyful throughout trials. Good Christians trust. Good Christians do not lose faith.
Frankly, I am proud of how I’ve conducted myself throughout this walk. And people have noticed and are proud of me too. The amount of support I’ve received has been nothing short of amazing. Beautiful souls from all over poured out their hearts and encouragements. Gifts, prayers, and love in abundance. The people who have guarded me, I lovingly refer to as my #heartarmy. God gave me peace at every turn and the most incredible people to help me in the ugly. But when would the ugly freaking end? Hadn’t I endured my fair share? I was tired. I was beaten down. And I felt shafted.
As thankful as I am for this #heartarmy, I grew impatient with God.
I had had enough. My character was thrashed. My family was gone. My child was stolen. Hit. After hit. After hit.
This time, I hit back. Prayer time this morning was not the usual knit one-purl two in some perfect, legalisitic Biblical order. I was livid. I was so angry at God that I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“I know you’re the boss, but HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE ME SUFFER?”
“You promised to be just and yet, where is MY justice?”
“Are you watching this? DO YOU SEE THIS?”
And last but not least, “I have prayed endlessly. I have an army of people praying too. SHOW ME THE POWER OF THIS PRAYER.”
I told God that my faith was slipping. That I have only read Job 67,000 times, and I get it. He gives and takes away. But I just couldn’t take it anymore.
I went into work, sad that I had shown God my less than pretty side, but muddled through the day as best I could. By the afternoon, I received an unexpected phone call and the peace was instant. A gentle reminder from someone who knows the truth, that the truth cannot be hidden. That no one can take away what I gave to that child. That history speaks for itself and that no matter what is said about me, I live brightly – steadily – genuinely – and that can’t be stained.
If you’re reading this, you know all too well the legal limits that are placed upon me as a former stepparent. Thankfully there are people who are around my sweet Little Bear, who know the truth and can pour out love to counter all the hate. It doesn’t remove my pain, but it does lighten my heart. I want only love around him all the days of his life.
I don’t know what will happen with my boy; I don’t even know what will happen tomorrow. But I do know myself. I do know my heart. And I do know we have a big God who DOES know the future. A big God who HONORS obedience.
As if that wasn’t enough, when I returned home from work there was a package waiting for me.
I just ADORE anchors. I keep them everywhere and I collect them. A very special sister in Christ sent it to me. Without any prompting. No warning whatsoever. A beautiful scarf with an even more beautiful card:
Jesus is the anchor of my soul. -Hebrews 6:19
You are an amazing soul. Keep shining and spreading all the love and joy that God brings! He’s got something special in store for ya!
She couldn’t possibly have known how much I needed that. When I reached out to thank her, I was blown away by her words.
She told me that God had put me in her thoughts. That no words for her were needed, and to give God the praise. That it wasn’t her, He just used one of His children to help me.
She closed out:
Love you and you are amazing and your God is in charge, so be patient.
A message straight from Him.
An answered prayer that I didn’t deserve.
Even in my broken, imperfect state, where my faith was slipping, and I was really starting to lose hope, He shows His mercy.
Don’t be afraid to show yourself to God. He already knows. Don’t be afraid to pray REAL prayers. Don’t be afraid of falling short. Don’t be afraid of having weak flesh.
Be obedient when it doesn’t feel good. Be obedient when you don’t want to. Be obedient when they are pounding you and you don’t deserve it. Not because they are worthy, but because God is.