Growing Pains
For those of you who don't know me and for the of you who have always wondered how tall I actually am, I am 5'10". Growing up I used to have these horrible aches in my legs and my mom always told me they were "just growing pains". Well, they were "just excruciating". The good thing was that that they never lasted for too long and eventually the pain went away.
Lately I have been experiencing a lot of emotional growing pains and they too can be excruciating. As a stay-at-home-mom, I am blessed beyond belief to be living in my sweet spot, that place where my God-given passions and gifts meet my successes. But I am also grieving the loss of what I thought was my sweet spot; I am grieving my "Five Year Plan for a Successful Life". When I decided to write this blog, I decided that I would write with complete candor and transparency. Today I am feeling more heartache than laughter. I am missing "what could have been".
A year ago I was headed into my 3rd year as a speech therapist at a nearby elementary school. In a certain sense, I felt very successful. I was in a Master's Degree program, I had a good reputation at work, and I made a good salary. By October of 2010, my pain condition had progressed far enough that I went on medical leave and by January of 2011 was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, an often debilitating chronic pain disorder. In April I gave my formal resignation. Not exactly what an ambitious college-graduate plans on doing with her life. I have always known that one day I wanted to be a mother. In my plan, however, this was years away. In the pain of dealing with fibromyalgia and a sense of loss and hopelessness, Zach and I turned to God and asked him to give us a new vision for our life. Our plan wasn't turning out the way we had hoped. In its place, God has ironically given us the opportunity to become foster parents, in which there is no plan whatsoever. To do this well, you have to give up the notion of a plan entirely and focus on today - loving and caring for the child today with abandon. James 1:27 says "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world". I am honored and humbled that God has allowed us to be a part of his plan in this way.
There is a cost to living in your sweet spot. God has given you strengths and talents for a reason - to further his Kingdom. Furthering the Kingdom however, requires denying yourself, being willing to give up your dream plan, picking up your cross daily, and following Him wherever he leads you (Luke 9:23). What happens then, is that God gives you a vision greater than you could ever have imagined. In our case it meant bringing home a little boy. While there is no feeling greater than knowing that you are doing what you were born to do, there are days when you look back on the success you had and wonder why you gave it all up. You miss the money, the accolades, the promotions - the "stuff". And you forget that you once cried every morning because you didn't want to go into work. Today was one of those days. But then someone laughed and melted my heart. This is exactly the kind of healing balm that God provides to soothe our growing pains. They will happen, they are sometimes excruciating, but they don't last forever.
Lately I have been experiencing a lot of emotional growing pains and they too can be excruciating. As a stay-at-home-mom, I am blessed beyond belief to be living in my sweet spot, that place where my God-given passions and gifts meet my successes. But I am also grieving the loss of what I thought was my sweet spot; I am grieving my "Five Year Plan for a Successful Life". When I decided to write this blog, I decided that I would write with complete candor and transparency. Today I am feeling more heartache than laughter. I am missing "what could have been".
A year ago I was headed into my 3rd year as a speech therapist at a nearby elementary school. In a certain sense, I felt very successful. I was in a Master's Degree program, I had a good reputation at work, and I made a good salary. By October of 2010, my pain condition had progressed far enough that I went on medical leave and by January of 2011 was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, an often debilitating chronic pain disorder. In April I gave my formal resignation. Not exactly what an ambitious college-graduate plans on doing with her life. I have always known that one day I wanted to be a mother. In my plan, however, this was years away. In the pain of dealing with fibromyalgia and a sense of loss and hopelessness, Zach and I turned to God and asked him to give us a new vision for our life. Our plan wasn't turning out the way we had hoped. In its place, God has ironically given us the opportunity to become foster parents, in which there is no plan whatsoever. To do this well, you have to give up the notion of a plan entirely and focus on today - loving and caring for the child today with abandon. James 1:27 says "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world". I am honored and humbled that God has allowed us to be a part of his plan in this way.
There is a cost to living in your sweet spot. God has given you strengths and talents for a reason - to further his Kingdom. Furthering the Kingdom however, requires denying yourself, being willing to give up your dream plan, picking up your cross daily, and following Him wherever he leads you (Luke 9:23). What happens then, is that God gives you a vision greater than you could ever have imagined. In our case it meant bringing home a little boy. While there is no feeling greater than knowing that you are doing what you were born to do, there are days when you look back on the success you had and wonder why you gave it all up. You miss the money, the accolades, the promotions - the "stuff". And you forget that you once cried every morning because you didn't want to go into work. Today was one of those days. But then someone laughed and melted my heart. This is exactly the kind of healing balm that God provides to soothe our growing pains. They will happen, they are sometimes excruciating, but they don't last forever.
Kali I just want to hug you. You amaze me, you are in a place I can never imagine being. God has truly blessed you and its amazing you can see the blessing through the clouds. I desire to have the same vision of the beauty beyond and in the storm. Love you!
ReplyDeleteErin
Oh Kali, there are days I would love to trade places with you (the mommy part, not the pain part). I miss those days. Hang on to your little one for now and know that all things change--one way or the other. You may go back to being an slp some day, or you might not. But either way, you are the sum of all your experiences. Enjoy what you are today.
ReplyDeleteDebby H.