One of the things I have always struggled with as a single mom is working. I never wanted to work outside of the home, I loved being a stay at home mom and was blessed to be here full-time for most of my kids lives. But after a while, I could no longer stretch the little bit of income that was coming in and it became apparent that I needed a “man-sized” income in order to just get by.
I realize that this is MY story. And not everyone reading it will agree, so please don't get offended when I share my struggle with being a working mom. For me, needing to go to work was an agonizing realization, and it caused a lot of unrest in my heart. It meant giving in to something that I did not want and I had already been forced to give up a lot by way of the desires of my heart. So I sought God for direction and I also begged him for a willing heart, but to be honest, I didn't have one, and it was probably one of the hardest things for me to come to terms with in all of my single years.
I remember this period of time like it was yesterday because I had a constant war going on in and around me. I wanted to be the first person my children saw when they came home from school each day. I wanted to greet them with listening ears and open arms. I wanted them to know that I was present, and I feared that they would, instead, feel like they had two absent parents.
Daily, I sought peace in the situation as I scoured job listings for something that would fit our needs. No one but those closest to me knew of the deep struggle of those days. But maybe because no one but those closest to me really took time to understand the reality of a single parent household.
When a single parent makes the painful choice to go to work outside the home, there are sacrifices on all sides and lots of things change. The workload of the home doesn’t lessen, it grows. On top of meeting each child’s emotional and physical needs, there is still laundry to be done, meals to be prepared, grass to be mowed, weeds to be pulled, snow to be shoveled, gutters to be cleaned, trash to be taken out, bills to be written, car problems, music lessons, home repairs, carpools, school functions, cleaning, and shopping, and homework, and school projects, and sports teams, not to mention sick kids, and school holidays and a myriad of other unexpected events. All of this can be hard enough to handle in a two parent home, but drop it on the shoulders of a single mom and then ask her to work outside the home for 8 hours a day on top of it….and now you see where I’m coming from.
It took me many, many months of job searching {AND of continually choosing to release my own desires} until I found what I was looking for. I had a lot of time in which I just listened to where God was leading my heart and tried to release my fear of change, yet again. I think part of what was so hard for me was that it was all so new and contrary to what I had planned for my life. And I couldn't see how there could be anything good that would come out of it, besides to pay the bills. I needed those months for the Lord to soothe my wounds and remind me that He had this, too, under His control.
Even while I was waiting on some Divine direction, it felt expected that I would be working and that I should be happy about it. On the one hand, God was gifting me with some time to adjust and was whispering words of reassurance to me; and on the other hand, other people were unknowingly pressuring me to “pick a career and get on with it”. It was a rough time for me and it felt lonely to be so misunderstood- even by the church. I don’t think anyone set out to be insensitive, but very few sought to really understand why it was such a struggle.
I remember dreading the greeting time during our Sunday morning worship services. Inevitably, every week someone {usually a working mom with glowing career aspirations} would greet me, then follow up quickly with,
“Where are you working?” or “What are you doing with yourself?” or “Did you find a job yet?”.
They meant well, but their questions and assumptions just made me feel alone in a sea of people. It seemed so simple in their minds. Like a job with a steady income would solve everything for all of us. Without meaning to, there was a certain expectation laid upon me by people who had no idea what it would cost our family. I couldn’t help but wonder if it wouldn’t be easier on them, too if I found a job, because it’s uncomfortable being with someone whose life doesn’t fit into your mold. Let’s face it, even though single parenting is not new to the church, we still don’t know what to do to best encourage and understand them.
I started a blog in the midst of those months of questioning- an outlet for me to say what I was thinking {and whining} about. This struggle came out in many of those posts back then, like this one.
As I continued to go to God for direction and guard myself against the pain of other people’s misunderstanding, it happened that little by little: I resisted the coming change less and less. I began to see God opening up an opportunity for a job that would turn out to be an addition, rather than a subtraction to my life.
It started out as a volunteer position at a local Pregnancy Resource Center in my city. After the first few months I began to see something in myself that I had not known was there- a passion slowly emerging that seemed to come out of nowhere. I had not known that I had in me what someone else was desperate to hear. But I did, mostly because I begged God to speak words through me that made some kind of sense. When the volunteer position turned into a more permanent position, it just felt right. After months of seeking answers, but finding none, a very obvious one landed right in front of me. I had no question that it was God, and He had led me straight to a place that needed what I had to give, even though it was initially with reluctance. There were young girls who struggled to see their self worth, their value, their importance- who needed to know that someone else understood. And I do. Sometimes one of them needs to hear that they, too, can make it through parenting their children alone. Sometimes they just need a little encouragement from someone who knows that all it takes is putting one foot in front of the other and dealing with each day, each moment, as it comes.
After a while I realized that this job- this thing that God placed in front of me- was breathing life back into me and blowing back on young women who need to know a little life themselves. Women who needed someone to cheer them on and believe in them.
But it wasn't just me learning to stretch beyond myself. Throughout this process my kids have also learned that sometimes life is hard, and yes, sometimes decisions are made that are out of our control. Sometimes those decisions end up being good for us and growing us further in grace. They learned that I'm always coming home at the end of the day. That although I wasn't always home when school let out, I was here by dinnertime, and the rest of the night was all ours.
All these years later, I still struggle to leave my home in the morning, knowing that I will be the last one to return to it in the evening. Even though I have come to love my job- if given the choice, I would always choose home over work without hesitation. Two thirds of my children have graduated out of here and the one still living here deserves to know that as much as it is in my power to do so, she always comes first. It is not always easy and I have had to learn to say “NO” to other things so that I can guard my time with my family. Just this year, when my hours at work were expanded, we felt the growing pains yet again and have had to shift to adjust even more.
But the good news is, we’re making it. {And if you're reading this, identifying with anything that I'm saying, then know that you will make it, too.} We are stretching each paycheck as far as it will go, and enjoying whatever time we have together. I’m learning to live in grace as I trust God to do big things inside and outside of my home with the life that I have to offer both.
I realize that this is MY story. And not everyone reading it will agree, so please don't get offended when I share my struggle with being a working mom. For me, needing to go to work was an agonizing realization, and it caused a lot of unrest in my heart. It meant giving in to something that I did not want and I had already been forced to give up a lot by way of the desires of my heart. So I sought God for direction and I also begged him for a willing heart, but to be honest, I didn't have one, and it was probably one of the hardest things for me to come to terms with in all of my single years.
I remember this period of time like it was yesterday because I had a constant war going on in and around me. I wanted to be the first person my children saw when they came home from school each day. I wanted to greet them with listening ears and open arms. I wanted them to know that I was present, and I feared that they would, instead, feel like they had two absent parents.
Daily, I sought peace in the situation as I scoured job listings for something that would fit our needs. No one but those closest to me knew of the deep struggle of those days. But maybe because no one but those closest to me really took time to understand the reality of a single parent household.
When a single parent makes the painful choice to go to work outside the home, there are sacrifices on all sides and lots of things change. The workload of the home doesn’t lessen, it grows. On top of meeting each child’s emotional and physical needs, there is still laundry to be done, meals to be prepared, grass to be mowed, weeds to be pulled, snow to be shoveled, gutters to be cleaned, trash to be taken out, bills to be written, car problems, music lessons, home repairs, carpools, school functions, cleaning, and shopping, and homework, and school projects, and sports teams, not to mention sick kids, and school holidays and a myriad of other unexpected events. All of this can be hard enough to handle in a two parent home, but drop it on the shoulders of a single mom and then ask her to work outside the home for 8 hours a day on top of it….and now you see where I’m coming from.
It took me many, many months of job searching {AND of continually choosing to release my own desires} until I found what I was looking for. I had a lot of time in which I just listened to where God was leading my heart and tried to release my fear of change, yet again. I think part of what was so hard for me was that it was all so new and contrary to what I had planned for my life. And I couldn't see how there could be anything good that would come out of it, besides to pay the bills. I needed those months for the Lord to soothe my wounds and remind me that He had this, too, under His control.
Even while I was waiting on some Divine direction, it felt expected that I would be working and that I should be happy about it. On the one hand, God was gifting me with some time to adjust and was whispering words of reassurance to me; and on the other hand, other people were unknowingly pressuring me to “pick a career and get on with it”. It was a rough time for me and it felt lonely to be so misunderstood- even by the church. I don’t think anyone set out to be insensitive, but very few sought to really understand why it was such a struggle.
I remember dreading the greeting time during our Sunday morning worship services. Inevitably, every week someone {usually a working mom with glowing career aspirations} would greet me, then follow up quickly with,
“Where are you working?” or “What are you doing with yourself?” or “Did you find a job yet?”.
They meant well, but their questions and assumptions just made me feel alone in a sea of people. It seemed so simple in their minds. Like a job with a steady income would solve everything for all of us. Without meaning to, there was a certain expectation laid upon me by people who had no idea what it would cost our family. I couldn’t help but wonder if it wouldn’t be easier on them, too if I found a job, because it’s uncomfortable being with someone whose life doesn’t fit into your mold. Let’s face it, even though single parenting is not new to the church, we still don’t know what to do to best encourage and understand them.
I started a blog in the midst of those months of questioning- an outlet for me to say what I was thinking {and whining} about. This struggle came out in many of those posts back then, like this one.
As I continued to go to God for direction and guard myself against the pain of other people’s misunderstanding, it happened that little by little: I resisted the coming change less and less. I began to see God opening up an opportunity for a job that would turn out to be an addition, rather than a subtraction to my life.
It started out as a volunteer position at a local Pregnancy Resource Center in my city. After the first few months I began to see something in myself that I had not known was there- a passion slowly emerging that seemed to come out of nowhere. I had not known that I had in me what someone else was desperate to hear. But I did, mostly because I begged God to speak words through me that made some kind of sense. When the volunteer position turned into a more permanent position, it just felt right. After months of seeking answers, but finding none, a very obvious one landed right in front of me. I had no question that it was God, and He had led me straight to a place that needed what I had to give, even though it was initially with reluctance. There were young girls who struggled to see their self worth, their value, their importance- who needed to know that someone else understood. And I do. Sometimes one of them needs to hear that they, too, can make it through parenting their children alone. Sometimes they just need a little encouragement from someone who knows that all it takes is putting one foot in front of the other and dealing with each day, each moment, as it comes.
After a while I realized that this job- this thing that God placed in front of me- was breathing life back into me and blowing back on young women who need to know a little life themselves. Women who needed someone to cheer them on and believe in them.
But it wasn't just me learning to stretch beyond myself. Throughout this process my kids have also learned that sometimes life is hard, and yes, sometimes decisions are made that are out of our control. Sometimes those decisions end up being good for us and growing us further in grace. They learned that I'm always coming home at the end of the day. That although I wasn't always home when school let out, I was here by dinnertime, and the rest of the night was all ours.
All these years later, I still struggle to leave my home in the morning, knowing that I will be the last one to return to it in the evening. Even though I have come to love my job- if given the choice, I would always choose home over work without hesitation. Two thirds of my children have graduated out of here and the one still living here deserves to know that as much as it is in my power to do so, she always comes first. It is not always easy and I have had to learn to say “NO” to other things so that I can guard my time with my family. Just this year, when my hours at work were expanded, we felt the growing pains yet again and have had to shift to adjust even more.
But the good news is, we’re making it. {And if you're reading this, identifying with anything that I'm saying, then know that you will make it, too.} We are stretching each paycheck as far as it will go, and enjoying whatever time we have together. I’m learning to live in grace as I trust God to do big things inside and outside of my home with the life that I have to offer both.
