Tag Archives: single mom

Happy Single Mother to Child of Deadbeat Father’s Day

Calebsleepsfinal

So let me be clear. I am not a man. I never have been one, and by the looks of how these things work, I probably will never be one. One thing I do know for sure however, my son’s father is ghost. He is out. He is totally and completely absent. I have not heard a word from him since May of 2015, and that was a year after he stopped paying a cent of child support.

He does not call to check on his son, he does not ask how he is doing, he does not inquire, he does not send a text, telegram or message pigeon. How could he do that?  There are questions that I had years ago that I now have answers to, this is not one of those questions. After being born into a marriage, and being planned for, I do not understand how a man denies his child. Part of me has lost interest in trying to understand.

I am very clear that I cannot be a father to my son. I cannot teach him how to be a man. I do not fully know the challenges and conundrums of what it is to be born male. But I along with so many single mothers are caught in this target practice of still needing to fulfill dual roles, regardless of our inability to do so completely. And the shaming of women who have this insurmountable task, who cry out for acknowledgement of this insurmountable task on a painful day of reminder like today, is to me one of the sure ways that we live in the last days, where love in action is condemned and criticized, instead of applauded and admonished.

Just before tucking my baby boy into bed tonight, I brushed his teeth and rubbed his back, just like good Mommies do. That was just after disciplining him for pushing beyond his boundaries, just like good Daddies do. And tomorrow I will fix his breakfast and his dinner, just like good Mommies do. And I will take out his trash, and put oil in the car he rides in, just like good Daddies do. But not after I work all day, like good Mommies and Daddies do, I have to of course bring home that bacon AND fry it up in a pan. I have continual vertigo as I swing between roles in being all things for my son. No one can ever tell me different. This is real life. This is everyday.

Father’s Day is for fathers, men who are present. I don’t claim this day as my own, but I dare anyone to question my dual roles, beyond holidays, constant juggling act of raising a child that requires at least two people to raise, and maybe five if I’m including my son’s special needs.

So excuse me if today, Father’s Day, is tough for me. Do I claim it as my own day? Not really, they don’t have a Happy Single Mother to Child of Deadbeat Father’s Day. But I do know that each and every day, no matter the fall on the calendar, I play all roles to my son, the feminine and all the masculine I can muster.

So goodnight young prince, with my hand in the Lord’s I will lead you in all the ways within my reach. And I am willing to play as many roles as necessary to do so.   

All That Glitters… Is Just Glitter

glitterThis is hitting home for me in the wee hours of the morning, this picture quote shared above.  I needed these words.

I couldn’t sleep much because I was troubled before even attempting to fall asleep last night. You see there was one particular person who was an authority figure over me who treated me horribly for close to two years. Last night I had to sit and shine a light and applaud her while still living in the ever present effects of her mistreatment. I along with several others have fallen victim to her vicious snares and attacks.

Have you ever been there, had to hold your tongue in effort of not exposing truth while standing in a sea of fooled people? In reality this person had loosened up her noose around my neck in recent months, she wasn’t nearly as cruel as when I’d first met her. But that loosening only took place after my standing against her attacks and ultimately winning. That loosening lightening only after her authority was lessened. But this morning I am counting the cost of what such a brutal war has done to my spirit and my soul, to my mind and my body.

This person’s mistreatment has had a lasting effect on me. It took place at the most vulnerable time of my life. When I was spiraling through a whirlwind of chaos, grabbing for stability and comfort. It was moments after a terrible divorce, seconds after my child had been abandoned by his father, while learning that my child had special needs, in the center of homelessness, experiencing failing health, ever yet aching from the untimely death of my mother, and staring the deception of loved ones square in the face. I had no one with skin on. It was only me, my son and Jesus. I was at the lowest point of my life when I turned to an organization as a last resort to help.

It was there where I was met with a level of kick you while you’re down like I’ve never experienced before. There were lies told, not exaggerations but lies. There was sabotage on every side. Constant daggers, constant deceit, constant attacks, unstopping accusation, continual knocks to my integrity, my character, my walk with God, my motherhood, my independence, and the ultimate ever present terror that one of, or all of these twists and killings of truth would ultimately cause me to lose my housing, to lose the roof over my son’s head.

This is where I lived for 2 years. This is what I was forced to swallow as hugs were given to this person causing this pain.

Now I not being one to hold a grudge or to become embittered wished her well, sending her off with a heartfelt scripture. Yet the restlessness ensued as I later recalled all that I had been through. As I mingled with those still under the web of her deceit. All of this seemingly remains hidden, while those who experienced this along with me are afraid to reveal these truths. This is a conflict at the highest of proportions.

In reality this person was at the helm of the greatest hopelessness of my life. This person used control and manipulation to have power over me. And she did it in the name of Jesus. I’ll let that marinate for a moment. That is what you call spiritual abuse, and its venom is the most vicious among all abuse.  I had to fight for the will of live with this woman having power over my son’s and my life. The level of this person’s word play left puddles of confusion on every corner, caused alliances of deceit, created division and dissension that are alive and well today. I have long stopped even attempting to get people to understand or even believe the full scale and true proportion of what I faced, only the Holy Spirit can do that. This onslaught of attack, only those closely in view or those who’ve experienced it themselves can believe. I have come to a place of peace in knowing that this is ok, this knowing that most folk won’t get it, or don’t want to. Ultimately God sees, ultimately He will expose openly.  The quoting of scripture and offering of big smiles fools no one, especially not God.

So I sit now typing in the dark from my bed of unrest now finding rest in the validation of who I am in Christ. In knowing He sees all and that if I just keep going I’ll be rewarded with light for all the darkness I’ve suffered. He whispers to me regularly, He comforts me constantly, He tells me that He sees continually. He showed me again when I came across this picture quote this morning.  The artist Maxwell has always been among my favorites, and his sharing this picture was divine intervention. Above the picture were his words “All that glitters…. Is just glitter. #love.” Thanks for that Maxwell. Words are just words, but how you treat people is the only thing that will last.

Ultimately the person I’m talking about here is not my true enemy. She has only allowed herself to be used by my enemy.  With accusation, confusion and lies, (he being the author of them all), he only uses people as tools who will allow him to do so. Ultimately he does not win, he can never win because weapons formed against me never prosper. This level of attack is only an indication of the judicatory and height that God has for me. I couldn’t be broken. I couldn’t be separated from the love of God. I couldn’t be torn from the Lord that I’ve known for two decades.

I have been stretched in my faith to newer heights as I stare the call to love your enemies in the face. This is what Christ spoke of when He commanded us to love those that scorn us. But let us never forget, He also corrected those who are out of line or turned people away from Him. I won’t be silenced as the presence and stain of false words still abide in the hallways of my life long after they’ve been spoken. This was only attempted murder but I am still living. There was only a shadow of a valley of darkness that could not completely overtake me. I can’t be silenced even as I still sit among those whom I’m not sure are friends or foes. I won’t be silenced.

I know what it is to be powerless, to be without voice. I know the struggle of the widow, the orphan, the foster kid, the abused wife, the abandoned child, the one without a home, the one without family. I know this level of pain, and knowing it has caused me to be a voice for it. And I won’t be silenced. I wont be dropping mics any time soon.

 

1 Corinthians 13. (MSG)
13 If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love, I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. 2 If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing. 3-7 If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.

Mother’s Day and Me

FB_IMG_1462893412467 I’m glad it’s over.  Mother’s Day is hard for me. It is one of those days when I can be in a room full of people and feel more alone than ever. So I tend to stay away for a while, not for long, but for a while. However I appreciate the people who check in, they are very few, but I see them and appreciate them.

On tough days I have to force myself to not put on a pleasant face and a fake smile. It’s easy for me to pretend that I’m not dying inside. It’s easy for me to check in with you when you never check with me, like ever. I am making decisions to not always be there for others to the point where they never ask how I’m doing or even send a Happy Mother’s Day text.

I appreciate the people who ask how I am, who know that I am struggling on celebratory days. Those people are few, but they are sacred to me. Because the reality is that it’s terrible that I don’t have my mother, and that the mother that I had wasn’t always a mother, that mother figures are absent, that I am mother to a son who only has his mother, that my son does not have a grandmother, that my son with current restrictions in speech and development only has his mother to speak and care for him. …. yeah Mother’s Day is hard.

But I liken myself to David who exposed his pain and his toil, and he called a spade a spade… and then he came to himself, and decided to encourage himself and praised God anyway. Like Kendrick said, we goin be alright, and God is going to get the glory. And I cannot wait to share my table of plenty with those who were present when all I had to offer was myself.