During this pandemic we have lived in 3 different houses in 2 different states, AND then also our time where we didn’t have a house at all—and were houseless.
We struggled. A lot. And I realized what a terrible disservice I would be doing my kids if I shielded my kids from my struggling. I was stretched thin. I lost it. A lot. I hardly ever cry, I’m not much of a crier, but I think I cried every day in there.
And there my kids were- experiencing it with me b/c they had no other option. We were in this tiny little hotel room, for weeks & weeks & weeks & they saw me collapse on the floor and fall a part after another bout of bad news. They were active participants in prayers and pleadings that seemed to be going unanswered experiencing every detail of things going from bad to worse to even worse, passing time with no change. They saw the confusion and fear and fatigue and wonder and wander. And they heard me yell at God and demand to know how much longer and what now and what next.
But then they also saw us keep going back to Him and problem solving. And how to hear Him when He seems silent. How to be honest and productive. How to keep finding Him in the dark and unwanted and in passing time. How to keep going when we don’t feel we can.
This ended up being one of the most sacred times of our life b/c as a family, together, we struggled with God. And saw it through and saw Him through.
I realized, what a disservice it would be from shielding my kids from seeing and experiencing what everyone will inevitably go through. I realized I would be setting my kids up to fail if I didn’t show them how to struggle with God and how to keep going with Him amidst it all.
It’s an important tool I’m grateful I didn’t shield them from them because unstoppable is the person who can hook arms with God no matter what.