Sunday, January 22, 2017

Losing what I wanted finding what I needed



The last time I felt confident that I knew the direction my life was headed, I was 23 years old. I was at my ideal weight, happily married (or so I thought—it definitely gets better with time), ready to start teaching, and wanting to change the lives of students in the Christian school at which I had almost missed my wedding rehearsal to interview for (that’s another blog post for another time). I enjoyed everything about teaching and coaching. I worked ridiculously long hours and invested everything I had into the job and the kids. I felt like I was doing exactly what I had been called to do. 

Four years in, we decided we were ready for kids. I thought I was ready until the pregnancy test read positive. I will never forget crying like a baby in total shock and absolute fear. I wasn’t sad or upset, just terrified about the whole experience—from labor and delivery to being a mother. (Plus, everyone kept telling me it would take months. I thought I would have time to prepare myself for this.) Once the shock wore off, I was fine and along came TJ. It was a hard decision, but I decided to leave full-time teaching. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but hoped God would provide. 

Two months in, I started feeling claustrophobic. I was nursing exclusively and I felt overwhelmed—like I never did anything but change diapers and nurse a baby. When TJ was three months, I went back to working at a school part-time. I enjoyed it and ended up back in the classroom where I thought I wanted to be. I didn’t coach during my part-time experience and I missed it so bad it literally hurt. Then we found out Reilly was on the way. At that point, my grandparents were taking care of TJ while I was at work, and I knew I couldn’t ask them to keep a toddler and a baby while I went back to work. After Reilly was born, we made the decision for me to be at home full-time. 

To be honest, I was scared to death. The old feelings of claustrophobia returned, except now, I was not only nursing a baby, I was trying to raise a toddler. So many questions and fears popped into my head. How were we going to make it financially without a second income? How will I keep my sanity? Will I lose myself? I had lost basketball, was God going to take teaching away from me now too? Who was I if I wasn’t a teacher or a coach? 

I didn’t have answers for any of these questions, but just plowed on ahead. I felt like at some point, God would have to provide. Not too long after leaving my job, Leapforce (a legit work from home opportunity) became my way to contribute to our income. It wasn’t my favorite thing to do, but it brought in what we needed to survive and I was okay with that. I remember thinking, “Okay God, you put this job in my lap so that takes care of one of my questions, but I don’t want to do this forever. I am not passionate about this.” I kind of felt like I was losing everything I had worked so hard for in college.

And then, it happened. Anthony bought me a camera for Christmas (wayyyy too much money to spend on me for sure, but had he not, I wouldn’t be doing what I am doing today). I started taking pictures of the kids. I loved it—they thought I was nuts. I brought the camera with me all the time. After a while, friends started asking me to bring my camera to birthday parties or to photograph their kids. I didn’t realize what I was getting myself into at the time. 

I found myself building a small business, doing a part-time job, and homeschooling one child. The stress was incredible. Once again, I found myself asking God—“What in the world am I doing?” I second guessed myself at every turn. I looked around at other photographers and wondered why anyone came to me for the experience. I saw only my deficiencies as a teacher to an elementary student (there was a reason I had decided to teach high school). My regular job evaluations left me wondering why in the world I even bothered to keep it up. In other words, I felt lacking at every turn. I didn’t understand where I was in life and where it was headed. 

Flash forward to December 2015. My husband sat me down and told me he thought it was time I stepped out on faith and left Leapforce to pursue photography. I shared with him some of my fears. What if I let go of that paycheck I could count on and no one hired me? What if people decided I wasn’t worth it? He didn’t flinch. He told me he felt like it was time. Here I was again, in front of God, but with a different question. Why didn’t I feel peace about this the way Anthony did? Why didn’t I feel like I knew what direction my life was taking? After talking to other family members about my situation, I made the decision to quit Leapforce. It was extremely difficult. Anyone who knows me well knows that I am crazy about financial stability. 

It was in the months to come that God revealed to me that Anthony had helped me make the right decision (one day I will write about my growth in allowing Anthony to help me). The stress of three jobs was really more than I thought, and even though I added another child to the homeschool craziness, other things fell into place. My God showed me throughout last year that even though I may not be sure of the path, He always knows where I am going. When my confidence in myself fails, He is there to remind me that I am His child and He cares about the direction of my life. 

I have slowly come to terms with not knowing where my life is headed. It has become an adventure to me to see what will be behind the next bend in the road. I have stopped looking at not being in the classroom or getting to coach as “losses.” I still get to teach, just in a difference capacity. I get to see the results of all the long hours of coaching as I interact with former players through photography. (It is amazing to photograph so many of their growing families!) God didn’t take those things away from me. He just had something else for me to do. Who knows? He might pull me back into the classroom or onto the basketball court one day. For right now, I am learning to enjoy the journey no matter where it might lead.

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