Same Old Me

I had a good chuckle and a fits of nostalgia looking over my old blog posts last weekend. 10 years ago feels like a life time ago!! WOW!! I had a 4 year old that made me chuckle nearly every single day of my life. I had a 9 year old that was funny, and thoughtful, and imaginative. I was married to an immigrant man that fought me tooth and nail every. chance. he could---No exaggeration. My life was big and wonderful and funny and yet full of so many secrets. I see those secrets peeking out through the pages of the blog. I see a young mom trying to find a voice, needing to express herself, and reaching out into the world wide web full of endless possibilities, knowing she was reaching next to no one with her voice, and yet she wrote on. Fast forward 10 years and I am still a mom of a now nearly 14 year old that still makes me chuckle, but not nearly so much. Life had a way of knocking a lot of wide eyed innocent funniness right out of her. But she's still in there, that smiling, 4 year old ready to cheer me on for the smallest accomplishments. I'm still the mom of a nearly 19 year old. She's smarter than I realized back then, she's quicker witted, sarcastically funny, but with that sarcasm comes that bitter pill of life. Thankfully, 10 years years later I am no longer married to an immigrant that fights me at every turn. Praise the Lord, for His mercies! I am no longer that man's wife. Okay, judge me if you want. I can only tell you that his leaving us was the best thing that could have happened given the situation. I was solidly determined to be married to him until death parted us. I believed in that promise of forever no matter how difficult it was. I was shocked, and unglued, and distraught when he left, but I could finally breath again. Our life was not ideal-- we faced many challenges and struggled and scraped out a meager existence. But the story doesn't end there. MY LIFE DIDN'T END WITH DIVORCE. Quite the contrary. That divorce was a second chance at life. Real life. And Life ABUNDANTLY! I am remarried to the most thoughtful and considerate man I have ever met. Three years after our wedding and it still feels like a honeymoon nearly every day of our life. He is an answer to prayers that I was often to timid to express. He is stable, and strong, and he has a way of loving the three of us right through the bruises and scars left in Life's wake. He still makes my tummy flutter when I think of him. After three years, I still count down the hours until he gets home from work. Three years in and I love him better in the today than I did the yesterday before. Not only did I marry the best man I could have ever imagined, I am now the full time mother and teacher to his children. That road has been full of challenges, full of tears, and full of frustrations. That road is one that I started down with wide eyed enthusiasm and optimism. That road had riddled with traps and pitfalls and pain and more tears than I ever thought possible to shed over children I did not carry in my own body. That road, the road of Step Mother-- or Step Monster as another has so more cleverly dubbed it-- is the road that continues to refine me. It continues to show me how short I fall. It is the road that reminds me that I need His Daily Grace. Its full of challenges and victories and it is transforming into a new mom every day. In all these years I have found my voice. I've spoken about things long latent and covered over with layer after layer of secrets and shame. I have stepped into a level of boldness and fearlessness. I know who I am. My past does not define me. No more secrets, no more shame, no more covering up! Here I am again, staring at a blinking cursor, typing and typing. I don't know what kind of blog I want to write. I don't know what audience I want to reach. I am not going to mimic every other succesful blogger. No. I'm just going to write. I'm going to write about cooking and kids and husbands and allergies and spring time and Faith any other thing that just happens. I'm still in the child assembly business. Welcome to the Factory.