All posts by Mandi
Protected: Nine
Protected: Woman! Make me a sandwich.
Cocoon
In my house, I have a snuggle cocoon. Whenever I sense one of my kids needs some mama time, or if someone (usually one of the Littles) gets hurt, I will sit down cross-legged on the ground, wherever I am, and say “do you need a snuggle cocoon?”
I can’t recall a time when any of my kids turned me down on my snuggle cocoon offer. They curl up in my lap, and I wrap my arms around them, and we rock and snuggle. It’s one of my favorite parts of my parenting journey.
I was recently INCREDIBLY blessed beyond belief for my birthday and Christmas. The events that took place are enough for a separate blog post. One of the gifts I was given was a special body pillow that I had posted about on facebook, coveting it hardcore. I was totally surprised by this pillow gift, and from day one it has lived up to the hype.
My friends, I have never slept better. This pillow (used in tandem with my new weighted blanket from my mother in law) has become the most popular spot in the house. The kids clamor to snuggle into my little nest.
It has also been dubbed My Cocoon. It’s a safe place. It’s a warm place. It’s a cozy place.
Cocoons have become special to me lately. I got to thinking that these last few months of my life, my kids and I have been wrapped in a cocoon. There were times where it was dark, and let’s face it, sometimes being in the dark can be kind of scary. But it was warm. It was cozy. And it was safe.
My cocoon is made up of God’s grace, lots of prayers, and the unfailing love and support of my beautiful friends and family. We have been completely surrounded on all sides. Protected. Sheltered. Held together when we were so broken and would have otherwise shattered out in all directions.
There are miracles happening inside this cocoon. Beautiful changes are occurring. I can’t see them all yet, and neither can you, but I assure you a transformation is happening.
I will not be the same woman when I emerge from this cocoon.
But that’s the point.
Protected: That first time
Protected: Trained
Protected: One less
Protected: 3 years
He is still good.
Through it all, through all the brokenness and shattered lives, through the heartbreak and the pain, late night tears after the kids go to bed… My God is still a good God. My God is still a God who has the power to transform lives. My God is a God who can still perform the most unlikely of miracles.
But here’s the kicker.
… If those miracles never happen the way we pray for them to happen, and if those lives aren’t changed in ways we have been begging and pleading for them to change… If not… He is still good.
Let me repeat that:
If not, He. Is. Still. Good.
As the world turns
I’ve had a bit of an epiphany. Ok ok, it wasn’t exactly something that came to me organically – I have my dear friends to thank for gently pointing it out to me.
Right now, my life is this divorce. This mess. My narcissist. My chaos. It’s on my brain 24/7 (or pretty near that much, it seems). So of course when I hear that he’s been spreading lies (or gross exaggerations) to what used to be mutual friends, my mind jumps to the worst possible conclusion.
Part of the problem is the silence. Through all of this, there have been just a couple friends (from church, for example) that have actually stepped in and asked how I was doing, or checked in on me during this craptastic time in my life. The rest? The people I thought were friends? Radio silence. And it’s deafening. And oh so painful. Because I automatically assume they believe him. Which means I assume they now all think I’m this evil vindictive abusive manipulative monster that he’s portraying me to be. Because I’m not hearing otherwise (other than these precious couple mutual friends of ours).
Basically, in my head, I picture all of these “friends” going about their own lives, obsessing over my mess like I am. Like it’s all they think about as well. So when I hear their silence, I interpret it as them standing there shaking their head and giving me the “tsk tsk” finger and turning away from me completely.
The truth that was spoken to me the other night is this: the world doesn’t revolve around me. 😛
Yes, this message was delivered to me in a much gentler way than this, but that’s the truth of it. What I interpret as friends turning their backs on me might simply be the fact that my friends actually have lives of their own (*gasp*). My world revolves around this drama. Theirs doesn’t. Maybe they don’t hate me. Maybe they don’t disapprove. Maybe they don’t think I’m evil. Granted, it sure would be nice if any of them cared to speak to me, but they aren’t, and I am not in a place where I can be the one to reach out. And I can’t force them to reach out to me. It is what it is. But the truth remains: not everyone is thinking about my situation as much as I am.
That is actually very freeing to think about. It doesn’t change how they ARE thinking about me (and I am working on figuring out how to stop caring what others think), but it helps to know that they aren’t obsessing over the monster they think I am. They are going about their lives. Tending to their own families. Worrying about their own dramas. And who knows – maybe some of them even believe that what I’m doing is right and good, and for whatever reason, they just aren’t speaking up. It’s been eye opening to start to see who my true friends are, and I’m sure as time goes on, the dust will settle and I will get a clearer picture of my newly established Tribe. My People. I know it will be a different circle of friends, but I’m already seeing who has their feet planted in my mud, arms outstretched ready to help me trudge through it all. ❤
the incandescent life 