Baptism

Well, we finally did it.

After almost 8 months of life, three months of planning, 6 months of my Great Aunt threatening baby limbo if we don't take care of this RIGHT NOW (do they still have baby limbo?), and a stressful weekend setting up, BabyGirlie got dunked.

That is, she was baptized into the Catholic faith.

It was a moving, crowded, loud experience that she screamed through -- instead of pouring water over her head, her Daddy and I opted for full immersion. That means she is stripped naked, presented to the crowd, and then dunked three times (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, ya'll) in what appeared to be a very nice, tiled bathtub.

It was awesome.

But my favorite part was after his sister was baptized, Boyo looked at me with wide eyes and said, "I no want that."

Roller Coaster

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I have been on a hell of a roller coaster lately.

First, I was struggling with the idea of being a stay at home mom.

Turns out, I didn't have to make a decision, since I lost my job.

So I applied for unemployment.

Then I found a new tutoring job.

And then I found out I didn't qualify for training.

So we applied for a loan modification.

Then I found a different tutoring job.

And then I found out that it didn't start until November.

Then we drained our savings.

Then I found out I lost my unemployment claim.

That same day, I found out our loan modification was denied.

Through it all, I have tried to maintain a sunny outlook for my kids. I did an abysmal job. They knew something was wrong. My daughter had to tell me to stop crying at least once a week. My son was extra cuddly, as if he knew I needed some extra compassion.

During this roller coaster ride, I have been talking to a friend about it. She's Catholic, as I am, but she's much better at it than I am. What I mean is, I struggle with my faith. Yes, I go to church and I go through the motions - say the prayers, make the donations, sing the songs. But I've had a real problem with the church's stance on social issues, and my faith took a huge hit when I lost my job and my unemployment claim, given that I was employed by a catholic school.

My friend doesn't struggle with her faith. She's serene about it. If something bad happens to her, it's part of God's plan so she can learn and grow. If something good happens to her, it's part of God's plan so she can learn and grow.

I didn't think I had it in me to follow that blindly. I wanted to. God knows, I've tried. But I'm too much of a control freak to simply give myself over to God when I don't know what's going to happen.

Still, He forced the issue.

My friend would gently remind me, whenever I called her up to complain or cry or whine about my circumstances, that God has a plan for me. She shared her mantra with me: "God knows your beginning, middle, and end. You don't and you don't need to." She told me that when I got overwhelmed and panicked to stop and breathe and remind myself of that.

So I did. When I found out I didn't qualify for tutoring, I took a deep breathe and reminded myself it wasn't part of God's plan. When I found out the training job didn't start until November, I sat outside and told myself that I needed to turn myself over to God. Every day I prayed. Every day I meditated. My family started going to church again. We started praying before meals and before bedtime. I could feel my faith growing, getting stronger, and that made me stronger. I was better at handling crises. I was calmer. I was happier.

And then I got hit with the two-fer: no unemployment and no loan modification. All of the work I had done over the summer to strengthen my faith was gone in the blink of an eye. I was back at square one, furious and scared, wondering why God was punishing me. I called my friend, hysterical. She cried with me. And then she said, "Shannon, I know you don't want to hear this, but God has a plan for you. Trust in Him."

My response was: "I can't trust anything but myself."

The next day, it rained, as I mentioned here. And, I swear, I heard God. So I danced in the rain. And during my dance, I fell to my knees and looked up to God. "I put myself in Your hands," I said as tears poured down my face. "I can't do it alone anymore."

Four days later, I got a call. I had landed my dream job - I'm now a virtual teacher; I work from home so I can still be with my kids. I can keep my credential current. There will be no real gaps in my resume. I will have a paycheck. My family will survive financially.

And this wonderful thing happened the moment I found the strength to turn myself over to God.

I know now that I needed to struggle and fear and ride this roller coaster. I needed to take this path to find my faith.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight." ~Proverbs, 3:5

Rain Rain

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Yesterday, it rained on my family. Seriously, the bad news just poured down on us. I don't know how my husband and I were able to remain standing to handle the onslaught. I don't know where we found the strength to carry on - make dinner, play with our kids, bathe them, put them to bed. I don't know why we didn't just lay down and give up. God knows, I wanted too. I can't speak for my husband, but I wanted to go to bed, pull the covers over my head and hide for the rest of the year. Maybe for two years. By the time we had talked through the situation three ways from Sunday and climbed into bed, it was just shy of midnight. I woke up to a cloudy and miserable day. I wish I could say that I sprang out of bed with a new day, new outlook and all that garbage. Nope. I saw the clouds and thought it was very fitting for my miserable and self pitying mood.

Today, it actually rained on me. For some odd reason, there was a thunderstorm in Southern California this morning. It let loose lightening that reminded me of Zeus' Lightening Bolt, thunder as loud a fire bombs, and rain. Not just a few sprinkles... no, it poured. And I'm terrified of thunder and lightening, but I was home alone with my kids - I have to put on a brave face. So we stood on the stoop and watched the rain come pelting down. My son was in my arms and my daughter by my side. And I thought it was fitting, this rain coming down on a day when I was in a miserable mood. It's as if God is crying for me, I thought.

And out of nowhere, I heard another voice. Dance, it said.

Why on earth would I go dance in this rain, when I'm terrified of thunder and lightening?

Dance, I heard again, insistently.

I'm not going to lie; my faith has severely been tested in the past four months. I've struggled to hold onto it. I've prayed more, meditated more, listened more. But still, in my mind, there has always been that doubtful question: Why would God want you to suffer this way?

Dance, I heard again, insistently.

So I gave myself over to the voice in my head. I decided that it was God talking to me and not schizophrenia.

I danced.

I took my daughter by the hand and led her and my son out into the yard in the rain. We stood right in the middle of a mud puddle. My daughter ran away - she hates getting her hair wet. But my son took my hands and twirled with me. And as we spun, I laughed. After all, it was ridiculous - we were wet and dirty, but I felt warm and clean and whole.

My son leaned over and gave me a kiss, then clapped his hands and looked up. Following his lead, I looked up to the heavens too. I was overcome with so many different feelings, but the most important one was relief. We're going to be okay, I thought.

I can wash you clean, the voice replied. Trust me.

"Thank you," I said to God.