D-Day, A Year Later

    Where have the past 365 days gone? This question has been rolling around in my head all week as this anniversary loomed on the horizon. January 19, 2022 held so many HUGE emotions I didn't know how to process them then, and I am still learning how to process them now, so many months later (thank you counseling😍). Last year, I got my first taste of freedom and the future looked as bright as the morning sun bursting with possibilities. God showed up in magnanimous ways to blow my mind and remind me that He is still the God of the impossible. I was so ready to tie up the final loose ends, bid goodbye to my amazing lawyer, and then step into finding a new normal for me and my daughter. It was all so promising.  In the midst of my joy, however, I found myself also grieving for the end of an era, the loss of a soul tie, the harsh reality of co-parenting, and the fear of the unknown future. My soul was literally a cauldron of bubbling emotions. Looking back now, I have a hard time even recognizing the woman that I was back then or imagining the fragile hope that danced on the edges of my healing heart. While it has been a year filled with some amazing moments, it has also been a time of severe drought and wilderness. I continue to be overwhelmed and blessed by a super supportive family and a tightknit group of friends who consistently stand in the gap for me, encourage me, and bring me unspeakable joy. I have also made several new friends that have pushed me out of my comfort zone, inspired me beyond my wildest dreams, and redeemed a few of the broken bits of my story. Besides new people, I bravely found new things to try like dancing lessons and putting my soul on display in my writing for more people to see. Moreover, I found the courage and strength to pull up my big girl pants, and I learned how to not only be a single mom but also how to embrace humility and accept some much needed aid. I have been able to face the barrage of triggers and process them with fewer tears rather than crumbling underneath them ruining my entire day. I can see the forgiveness of my ex and continue to work toward it, instead of being overwhelmed by the feelings of the injustice surrounding it. My mess of a story has become a beautiful message and a beacon of hope for others who are just starting on this painful and arduous and devastating journey. This is a mantle I never would have asked for, but I am so grateful of its power to weave a new story of redemption. On the other side of the pendulum, however, I have also seen my bubbly daughter turn into an angsty teen as she bravely flounders her way through new family members, switching houses and trying to keep her peace in this chaotic time. I am realizing more and more how little I know how to parent and how much my mama bear heart aches to be able to just make things right for her. Instead, I have to continually place her into the hands of the One who made her and trust that it is enough. I have walked through the blazing fire forging my faith and basked in the sweetest intimacy of God in the darkest of nights to suddenly finding myself in a swirling dust storm of wilderness wondering what turn did I miss. I was good until all of a sudden I wasn't. Honestly, it has felt like now that the time of complete and utter desperation has passed that I am supposed to be good to go and just pushed to the side. It sounds absolutely asinine to even have that thought cross my mind, but there it is. The last several months have constantly had a feeling of shifting and shaking with no knowledge of why or what or when. The stinging pain of feelings, beliefs, and identity being stripped down and away has become a regular occurrence. I have found myself more and more like the wandering Israelites and doubting Thomas as the wilderness has stretched on and on before me with no end in sight. This past year has again forced me to match my walk with my talk. The times where my faith has dwindled down from a sword of steel to a miniscule mustard seed, I still cling to it because I know that even in its faintest form, it can still move the mountains and the giants in front of me. Therefore, I can keep going, keep stepping, and keep believing my way forward. I know this next year will become an incredible tapestry, weaving my grief, wanting, waiting, wrestling, believing, hoping and absolute joy as I do the hard and holy work to discover His greatness and His plans for me. So, here I am with open palms and cautious treading steps as I make my way into a new year and and new chapter of  becoming the better and stronger Lindsay Carlene.