Summer's Over

I've had a hard summer. Graduated our first child in May. She left for Guyana, South America two days after graduation. She spent the summer as an intern for a Medical Mission: Operation Guyana. I'm so proud of her! Then she moved in with my folks to go to college. Just like that, she has moved out! This is all very, very good. But it was a transition. It was a big deal.
While she was in Guyana, my brother died. Crazy. He was not old enough to die. Not even 43. While we were all still reeling from his death, before we'd even had his funeral, his widow began saying and doing some incredibly hurtful things to my mom and the rest of the family. She was/is angry at my brother for dying. I know that anger is a stage of grief. But it still hurts. I don't know if I will ever see his kids again. Ever. It hurts. Big transition.
About a week after the funeral, we found out our church body would be merging with a much larger congregation. Our preacher preaches his last sermon Sunday. I am no longer the Children's Minister. We've remodeled, painted, fixed, moved (and all those transition words) getting ready for our new beginning. Now, a few months into the process, someone remarked that there are a lot of us who wish we could hit a reset button. Slow down. Do it a little differently. Things didn't go as well as they perhaps could have. Lots of personalities. Lots of changes. Transition is hard. Big transitions are really hard.
A few weeks after that process started, we began working on homeschool co-op set to start in September. When it was all said and done, we'd about tripled in size. New families. Nice. Wonderful, even! Awesome families whom I already love. But new to our system, our habits, our ways. It is harder to communicate with everyone. Technical difficulties. Even good transitions are hard.
And somewhere in there, I agreed to teach three classes at our co-op. I LOVE them. LOVE. Love all three! But three is a lot of work. And I've got 5 kids still at home, being homeschooled. Did I mention we live over an hour away from co-op and church and my mom?
So, I'm stressed. I'm completely and totally stressed out. There. I've admitted it. 
I'm this good Christian girl who is supposed to be light to a dark world, setting a good example for all my kids and the kids in all my classes. A good example for those younger moms who can't fathom more than the none or one kid they have. A good example for the people I meet.
Um... well... um... I'll be honest, I've not really been one to follow lately. Please don't even notice me. 
But you know my kids look to me. They see me every day -- all day long. Mostly just me. We live in the boonies in a little town with 800 people in it, a quarter-mile from my in-laws, who are amazing. (I hope they still love me in five years after living so close.) I want to look good for them. I want to have them over and be comfortable like I am at their perfectly clean house with a regularly-mowed lawn and pretty flower beds.
And I feel woefully inadequate. At everything. I'm hurt and angry and jealous. And And And... You know how it just builds when you let yourself go down that path?! It saps your energy. It steals your time. It interrupts your sleep. 
When you begin to believe lies about others AND yourself, your thoughts are no longer pure. Your heart suffers. Have you been there?! Are you there?
That is where I have found myself lately. Then, I was late to co-op and so angry at myself that I was literally flustered the WHOLE ENTIRE DAY. I flubbed every class because I could not let go of the last one. And lunch was a disaster, too. Oh the guilt!
I am hurting over giving up my ministry, so I'm touchy, and took some poor lady's head off the other day. She was wrong, but I sure wasn't right. Know what I mean? I called to apologize but she didn't answer. I left a message. Have not seen her since. Oh the guilt!
AND oh, the tears. So many tears. You have to know, I am NOT emotional. At all. I am not one to EVER cry in public. Not at funerals, weddings, movies. And I can't even finish this post without crying. Ugh!
I've come to realize I'm a fixer. I deal with emotion by DOING something about it. But I can't. Not this time. I can't make my brother alive again. I can't make his widow let us see the kids. I can't make my daughter 8 instead of 18. I can't make people be nice, or say things the way I want them said, or do things the way I want them done. I can't make people read their emails and respond. I am powerless over all those other people's actions and situations.
I can only allow the Holy Spirit to be in charge of ME, to help ME. I can allow God's grace to shine through me, or I can be the one who needs others to give me lots of grace. I have power over MY choices. period. And if I continue to let my circumstances and other people's actions dictate my mood and my actions, I will NEVER, EVER BE FREE of the feelings of anger and guilt. That never-ending cycle that threatens to overwhelm me at any given moment. To drown me in despair or a flood of tears or a volcano of ugly words spewing from my lips.
Yes, I know this. Easier said than done. Especially when people have 'done ya wrong' and don't seem to care. But I know I just have to let it go. (Go ahead, hum a few bars.)
But HOW? That is the million-dollar question. I'm sure there are lots of ways. Start an ice-storm, build a castle out of ice... OK, maybe *YOU* and *I* can't do that. I can't run away, either. I can't pay someone to come in and fix it.
So, this is what I did:
I had several conversations with God (and my husband and my preacher). It wasn't pretty. Its OK. He's a big God and he can handle when we are mad at him. (Remember Job?) Then, when I'd exhausted my anger, I cried out to him. Because really, I was hurt, and I wanted the hurt to go away. And I could not heal my heart on my own. I tattled. I told him all about it (as if he didn't know). I told him how I was right, how they'd hurt my feelings. I told him what I wanted. How I'd make it right, everything. And I took a good, long soak in a very hot tub. And then, finally, I agreed to listen. When I do that, I start by thinking of Bible verses that speak to my situation. First, I rattled off all the Bible verses I knew about righteous indignation. (Remember, I was right.) There were not that many. None that I could think of, but I thought about it a while. Then I remembered, "In your anger, do not sin." And then, I told God I was sorry. 
For not being gracious when all the while he has been so gracious to me. 
For holding grudges while he freely forgave me. 
For wanting my way when his son prayed "not my will but thine" and went to his death for me. 
By the time I'd finished apologizing -- really apologizing -- I wasn't hurt anymore. Well, maybe just a little, but not vindictive, not angry. I had made peace with it. With all of it.
And then, God sent his spirit to comfort me. (Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.) As that bath water shriveled my skin, I let go of my baggage and submitted to God. Whether they do or not, I'm going to be me. The real me. The me I've been remade to be. That old vindictive crazy lady is GONE! (Praise the Lord!)
And God -- so true to HIS character -- blessed my obedience, my submission. He gave me some creative ideas to fix some problems in a couple of areas. I never would have thought of them or been able to present them to others if I hadn't submitted and let go of my anger. Best of all, he has given me peace. Not Pollyanna, not giving-up-but-mad, not stuffing-it-deep-down-so-it-doesn't-show-for-now. Peace. Assurance that it really is all OK. A glimpse, perhaps, into the bigger picture. His picture.
Later, God also confirmed a choice I had made that I was questioning. He's got that one covered, too. "Submit your plans to the Lord and he will make your paths straight." 

Took me a while to get there. Hope this helps your journey be shorter. ​