The day I lost my job, I also accepted a job coaching a 7th grade basketball team and (although it took me a few weeks to learn this) conceived my fourth child. Consequently, I spent the last 3 months of my life rearing 3 small children, balancing a fog of pregnancy hormones, as well as attempting to cope with the hormones of a bunch of junior high girls, while dealing with the usual doldrums that long winters bring . All while my husband trekked on being his hard-working, degree-earning, rock-star self. Don't get me wrong: I wasn't depressed. My life is too blessed for that. I just was in this strange state of existence that I'll leave at this:
-My house is a mess.
-My house is not organized.
-Our finances are not organized.
-My children have done little schooling.
-It took me all of January to regain command of the laundry. A small victory that I celebrated.
-My faith stretched, I believe to make room for growth sometime in the future.
I walked out of my church that day in October and haven't returned. Not even to collect the few belongings I have there. I don't want them. There was too much hurt to my weary soul there. The 12 year old girl in me is protecting my 29 year old self... She knows how cruel the church can be.
But last night as I was holding my 3 and 5 year old daughters as they cried because they miss their Sunday School class and teacher, I realized how much I miss the friends I had there. I miss my students. I miss my parents. I miss my partners. I just miss my friends.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry