Seeing Life Through a New Lens

There comes a moment in every journey of rebuilding when you realize you are no longer looking at life through the same eyes.
Grief changes your vision. Truth sharpens it. Courage reframes it.
After the storm… after the dark night of the soul… after hearing the words that split my life into a before and after.
I began to see everything through a new lens, not the one I hoped for, but the one I was living, the one I must grow into.

‍ ‍**March 2020, in the mirror of the home of my Plan B, picking up my camera again, thinking I was looking through a new lens.**

When All Your Plans Collapse

I had a plan. Actually, I had several; I was a Girl Scout after all, you always have a plan, then a backup plan for the plan. —Plan A (Happily married until death do us part), when that failed, I moved onto Plan B (Move in with my father while with my son), and then I had Plan C (Immediately start my college degree). I had made these plans in the months of privacy, before we would tell the world we were ending our marriage. They were good plans. And then, every single one of them collapsed. As a self-professed control freak, this was a devastation I could not handle. My lack of being able to control anything sent my body into a full-blown anxiety spiral. I thank God for three things during this time: my very close friends, anxiety medication, and my therapist. “Do you know how to properly breathe?” I was asked on multiple occasions. It turns out, I did not. I also had never once taken a pill for anxiety, and I have not needed one in several years now, but I truly thank God that they were an option when the panic attacks hit. Because the body does indeed keep score, and these attacks are real. There is no shame whatsoever in taking them.

After my marriage ended, I moved back home with my dad and my youngest son, who was finishing high school. We were homeschooling, and I thought I had one more year to catch my breath, gather myself, and start again. A few weeks later, the world shut down. The pandemic rearranged everything. Every timeline, every expectation, every shred of familiarity. Add to that another extremely private and tragic event during that time, and suddenly, the plan I thought would stabilize me dissolved completely. Within 24 hours, our safety became my top priority, for both my son and me. This is when I chose to move two hours away. It was the right decision. But my son decided to stay with his father. This truly is what was best for him at the time. But God….

Plan B gone.

Another gut punch. Another piece of my spirit I had to let go of. The nest that had been tossed out of the tree with the divorce, and moved, was now stomped on and empty. My heart was shattered. It was the best decision for all of us. But, as a wife and a mother, the loss of your home, the loss of relocation and leaving everything familiar, and the loss of having your babies (even as adults) with you, was more than I could handle.

It was hard; bone-deep, breath-stealing hard.

I will be vulnerable here. What the divorce did not shatter within me, when what was left after moving out of my home did not completely shatter me, the fact that the boy I was supposed to have another year with, and slowly let go of, and who was no longer with me, finished me off. With libraries closed and the world on pause, I needed work. Yes, I am grateful I had alimony. But that was for my college degree, and then the universities shut down. My plan to go back to school and get my degree, which would be essential for my future, would now have to be put on hold. But, God…

Plan C gone.

And that is when God stepped in and revealed a new path. I discovered nannying, a way in the wilderness. What looked like a necessity from the outside became the first real step in rebuilding my life from the ground up. The work steadied me, structured me, and, without knowing it, began healing me. I had always dreamed of being Mary Poppins. Now, I really could be. I have to give my oldest daughter credit for this one. She said, “Mom, no one has child care right now. You need to get on care.com.” Within 24 hours, I had a waitlist. My work at the public library was one of the biggest joys of my life. Early literacy is my passion. Now, God had found a way that I could continue that work, but in a different way.

**Pine cone prayers, and a Mary Poppins tattoo, to remind myself to breathe and dream. “You’ve got the whole world at your feet.” Mary Poppins Returns.**

The Words That Carried Me Through

Sometimes I still wonder what my life would look like if the pandemic had not forced me to make such drastic decisions. But, we cannot know these things, can we? All we can do is live the life God has placed in front of us, with the strength we did not know we had, one step at a time. And I trusted God. In the middle of that unraveling, between fear, survival, and sheer determination, there was a speech that Dr. Brene Brown placed right in front of me. It became an anchor to me. A reminder of who I was, even when I felt lost. One that has inspired many for over a hundred years now. One that I hope inspires you. One from a man who lived the words. These words became my mirror: “You are in the arena, Tracy. You are dust-covered. Exhausted. Heartbroken. Marred by it all. But still showing up. Still trying. Still daring greatly. Still becoming, and I am so proud of you.”

‍ ‍ **These words are from President Theodore Roosevelt. April 23, 1910.**

Choosing God’s Voice Over the Noise

People had a lot of opinions, and if I am honest with you, they still do. There was a lot of judgment about my decisions. Some whispered. Some speculated. Some felt entitled to speak into a life they were not living. You know the quote about walking a mile in someone else’s shoes. It is an accurate one. It was incredibly painful on top of everything else I was experiencing. But God…

Plan D…God’s plan.

But God, because there were also some absolutely beautiful voices. I was blessed with some amazing women who carried me and spoke life over me. Every single day. In the end, I had to decide whose voice mattered most. I had to choose what I believed God was telling me, and I could not allow the opinions of others to become louder than His guidance. But even with that resolve, the isolation, the fear, and the shame were overwhelming. Divorce, empty nest, a pandemic, and a job change. None of it was wanted. It is one thing to know the truth in your spirit. It is another to walk it out when you feel completely alone. There was a lot of beauty during this time as well. I do not want that to get lost in this retelling. Those joy-filled moments are what God gave me to continue in the hard, to brave the wilderness. I was continuously reminded of the Israelites in the wilderness. Enough mana for today he would say. Say yes to this. No to that. Throw that pine cone. I know this looks crazy, but this is the path to take. He led me, step by step, and he fed me. He was faithful. I was obedient.

And this, right here, this is where I found my bravery.

‍ ‍ **Somewhere in North Georgia, the mountains that fill me with life, a cold but beautiful day, 2020.**

This was not the life I planned. But it is the life I survived. The life I am creating. The life I am learning to embrace with open hands. Because sometimes the lens we never wanted becomes the one that helps us see clearly. And, I do now see clearly. I see him everywhere and in everything. Every child I hug. Every stranger that I greet with loving eyes. Every person that I share my smile with. My God is everywhere. You see, we are marked, those of us who have experienced the crushing. We have been anointed with his scent. We are different now. There is no going back. I do not want to ever go back. I will never go back. Because, on this side of the wilderness, it is my God and me. And, oh, what a beautiful wilderness journey this is. I am his, and he is mine. My life is now his life.

Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. Isaiah 43:19