Words cannot even begin to convey the depth of the weariness which comes from managing mountains of emotions and constant behaviors day in and day out. I think about posting a Facebook status about how things are going, but I don't even know what to say. I consider calling a friend, longing for connection, but I do not have the emotional energy to explain all that has been going on. So I go another day, each day more weary than the last. Blogging has always has been my way of coping as a verbal processor when my energy is spent, so here it is.
June was the 17 month mark since bringing our girls home. This is a major milestone for them based on history and, as of late June, they have now lived with us longer than any other family since coming into care four and a half years ago. In fact, I suspect this has likely been the longest they have *ever* lived in a single house/location. I expected one child to react to this milestone. I was kind of taken off guard when they all did. You don't have to remember a date or track a period of time or consciously bring to mind an incident. The brain knows. The body remembers. I believed this to be true before, based on research. I know this to be true now, based on the lives within the four walls of my home.
One might expect this milestone to be cause for celebration and security. Except not. Instead, we have had some major regressions in behavior from all sides. This happens to some degree every time there is a significant anniversary...or birthday...or holiday...or...you get the idea. We make progress and then, BAM, overnight it is like we are almost back to square one. June contained this milestone, plus Father's Day, plus two birthdays. Needless to say, June was not fun.
July 1st rolled around in the exact same way that April 1st showed up after a similar month surrounding a major traumaversary in March. After a solid month of being lied to, manipulated, pushed away, and yelled at, I hit my limit. Thankfully, one of my three tends to settle down immediately after the trigger passes. The other two, however, they're still going strong. And I am weary.
I cannot even count how many times I have been lied to in the past month - or in the past 12 hours for that matter. Lying is one of my parenting triggers. I have multiple children who lie to me almost daily. I have one child who lies literally almost every single time she speaks to me. Not even exaggerating. The constant need to read past the words, interpret expressions, identify manipulations, stay one step ahead of elaborate attempts to control the home...exhausting does not begin to cover it.
I also have one child who is going through a process of difficult growth as she faces the triggers head on and works to regain control of her own mind and body, by way of actively giving over control to her Lord. In between struggling with her poor choices and her premature battles for independence, I get to see her amazing heart as she seeks to grow and heal and mature. "The old has gone, the new has come." Even in the midst of her battles, I have never seen the truth of this verse more clearly than in this child. She is beginning to truly know the vastness of God's love for her. That love is visibly changing her and it is so beautiful to watch. It is incredibly hard to be parenting her through these difficult, overwhelming phases, and yet I am often brought to tears when I glimpse the beauty within her heart. Plain and simple, she is not the same person she was before she welcomed Christ into her life. I pray for this same thing to someday be able to be said for another child.
There is yet beauty in this life. The days can be heavy. So very heavy. There are tears and struggles on a daily basis. There is also growth. Sometimes it is harder to see than others. At times it may even be impossible. In between the screaming and the throwing things and the careless running over of others...in between the hours and hours (and hours and hours) of talking and coaching and doling out consequences, the fighting my own inclinations in order to connect with those who would push me away, the watching children self-destruct, the protecting them from each other and from themselves...in between all of that there are the moments. There are always the moments. The moments in which I catch a glimpse of God working. Sometimes in a child's heart; often in my own.
My body is struggling. I am in physical pain due to needing to physically restrain a child nearly my own size today. My store of emotional energy is completely run dry. Mentally, I have been living in survival mode for so long, only taking on bite sized pieces of the must do priorities. Rarely can I so much as wrap my mind around cooking a real meal. Grocery shopping is done in a haze. I am depleted in every way. As I have been every day for some time. Hope is running thin. I would think I should completely dread each day - and sometimes I do. Sometimes it is too much to look into another day of all this.
"Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his mercies never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, 'The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.'"
The moments of grace. The moments where I get to see his mercy at work within our home and in our family. On our worst days they are there. These are the moments, often mere glimmers of hope, which allow me to lie down with nothing left tonight and get up tomorrow to do it all over again. And again and again and again as we all learn together what love really means. Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his mercies never fail.
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