I want to be completely open and share my heart with you in this blog. This is one of the hardest things I have ever had to write: I am one of the homeless I described in the previous post.
This is me, waking up in my car on the morning of my 44th Birthday:
I brushed my teeth and washed my face at a gas station the night before. I waited until it was quite dark and then drove to an out-of-the-way place I had found. I slept in my car next to a construction site. I got bitten by all kinds of flying bugs. I rolled up the windows and sweat like crazy in the summer heat.
I have been blessed. Although actually considered homeless for three years now, following a divorce after being a homeschooling mom for years, there have been few nights I have actually had to sleep in my car. Since the divorce three years ago, I have had seven addresses. Shelters, friends, people from my tiny church… plus several “week here and week there” addresses as I house or pet sit.
Things often come through at the last minute. I held two part time jobs for a while until the one that paid slightly more and offered a more regular, if part-time, schedule stopped playing ball and working with me to accommodate both schedules and I had to quit the first job. Then the second one let me go. I have worked at a couple of temporary jobs since then. I worked with the circus! I stripped thorns from roses in a warehouse the week before Valentine’s Day. I have been unemployed for nine months, staying in several places at the generosity of friends.
I am a USAF trained Communications Program Manager. I have a heart for kids, especially those with special needs, and have had many jobs and volunteer positions working with them (both typical and special needs). I have run a doctor’s office. I am well-spoken and obviously have a fairly firm grasp of the technical aspects of writing. I am outgoing and personable. I have a slightly sarcastic sense of humor. I am a consummate professional and have what has been described by others as having the “perfect phone voice” (I have even been accused of being a recording).
I have survived depression and postpartum depression. I have survived mental, emotional, and even some physical abuse. I still choose to see the world as a good place. A few bad people and some more than challenging circumstances do not make it otherwise. We live in a fallen world. Period. I choose joy. Am I a little “Pollyanna” in my views? Perhaps. I try to always remember the words of Paul in his letter to the Philippians, chapter 4: 11-13 11-I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12-I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. 13-I can do all this through Him who gives me strength.
That doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. It doesn’t mean I don’t face doubt. It doesn’t mean I don’t face fear. It means that day by day I am learning to trust in the One who has it all under control. Just like I don’t know His final plan for me having a daughter that would subsequently die, I don’t know why this is happening, but I am choosing to trust that He has my best interests at heart. Until this happened, I could never have imagined such insecurity. Now, it is a constant companion. Just like I know without a shadow of a doubt that my daughter’s life had meaning and purpose, I know that something awesome will come out of this trial. Stay tuned as I travel this road and share my days. We’ll come through it together.
Check out my Instagram post along the lines of the same topic.