Strengthening the love and trust muscles...

“It’s a thankless job, Beck.  You give your heart out, and the biological mom gets all of the kudos.”  She popped another red raspberry in her mouth and took a sip of her wine.  My heart aligned in saddened agreement, and I shoved another piece of dark chocolate into my mouth like an Ibuprofen.

As our conversation continued, I came to the realization that no matter where you are in life, profession, stage, number of kids, experience, there is a struggle when you choose to enter into the land of Stepville.

“They had never learned how to study, I taught them.  I taught her how to ride her bike, tie her shoes, wash her hair…and she gives her biological mom all of the credit.”  Tears filling her eyes, I knew how she felt.  Recalling a sunny afternoon nearly throwing my back out trying to teach my stepdaughter how to complete a round off to encourage her tumbling skills for cheerleading.

It is like pouring water into a well that can never be filled completely, then having them thank someone who never lifted the bucket to fill it…or they spit the water back at you and chide you for ever trying to fill it in the first place.

My heart sunk in the reality of it.  You can love your stepchildren, give your heart out, put your heart out, but in the end the reality is that they will never deeply love you or want you there. Their longing will always be for their original family, and for you to be out of the picture.  It isn’t anything personal; you just aren’t the person they long for to be in that position.  So instead of being angry and rude to the ones that caused the situation. Avoiding putting the responsibility of the damage and pain on the catalyst or catalysts who placed them in the position of having a stepfamily, they throw it all on the newcomer. 

I felt as though I was receiving all of the anger, frustration, and fury of children scorned in the divorce.  I felt like the dog that was easy to kick.  From critiques on my cooking, disapproval on my housekeeping, and constantly being compared to their biological mom, to downright cruelty- I have lived it.  I have felt like a stranger and an outsider in my own home.  Living in fear of doing anything that may cause upset, or discomfort, I began to shrink into a shell of quiet protection…and I started to become angry myself, resentment and bitterness began to creep in.  I had unconsciously set in motion my own death.  Longing and living to make these children happy, caving into their desires, giving them the excuses of their pain and what they had been through to feed the behavior.  I proceeded to cautiously walk on eggshells, to the point of not wanting to sit down and play the piano and sing for fear that they would either make fun of me, be annoyed, or complain. 

The truth is, it wouldn’t matter if I were a Grammy winning singer/songwriter, a master chef, or could fly like peter pan, I would never measure up.  I am not their biological mom.

I have watched the most godly, Christ-centered women struggle through this mess in Stepville.  We didn’t birth these children, but as Christ centered women, we know that we are called to love them well, and nurture them.  They have come under our covering, living in our “nest”.  Deep in our hearts, we know that we cannot be biological mother, yet we long to mother and nurture them as if we were. 

I have lain awake sobbing many nights grieving the fact that, once again, I live in a house where someone doesn’t want me there.  This strikes an old wound, the wound of rejection.

Learning to accept that this is the way it will always be is the hard part.  Learning to accept the things we cannot change and change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference (Thank you St. Fran) is still something that my tendency toward perfectionism wrestles out daily.  Being made in the image of a perfect God we long for that perfection, only to have it elude us time and time again.  Perfection is only found in His character and sovereignty this side of heaven.  Everything…everything else is broken.

I find that deep in my heart I still have that longing to have a whole family, restored.  An original family, no ex-in-laws, no yours and mine...just us.  Reality is, we are a broken home.  We live under a roof of people who are broken both by their own choices and the choices of others. 

Sounds hopeless.  Again, it’s not.  Continually, we most hold to the truth that our God’s character and drive is about redemption, and restoration.  As we read through the scriptures, we see that every character has that same story.  Broken life, God steps in, quietly pursues, our acceptance of the pursuit, redemption, restoration, refining, restoration, calling, blessing, refinement, restoration…  He is constantly refining and restoring us.  Stepville is just another tool that He uses for refinement.

So…what to do when you live this day in and day out?  How do you survive?  I don’t have the answers…but we know The Answer.  As in any other situation, we turn to our God and cling.  We cry out to Him, whine to him (only 5 minutes allowed!), we wait… we listen.  Diving into His word, and His character we find how he is calling us to live in this moment. 

We live for Him, not for anyone else.  We live to please Him, and do things that are pleasing to Him.  Sometimes this looks like laying down your life, sometimes it is permeable wall where love can flow out, but daggers cannot come through.  He is the ultimate guide. He longs to walk with us through this.  He relishes the opportunity to navigate with us, and even carry us through the dark, murky, muddy spots.

We lean into our trust muscle, as we look to Him in all things, good and difficult.  We trust Him to keep us, heal us, grow us, and give us His peace in the process in a recurrent manner. We can trust Him even in this to work all things together for our good and His glory.

'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,

            and to take him at his word;

            just to rest upon his promise,

            and to know, "Thus saith the Lord."

Refrain:

            Jesus, Jesus, how I trust him!

            How I've proved him o'er and o'er!

            Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!

            O for grace to trust him more!

2.            O how sweet to trust in Jesus,

            just to trust his cleansing blood;

            and in simple faith to plunge me

            neath the healing, cleansing flood! 

3.            Yes, 'tis sweet to trust in Jesus,

            just from sin and self to cease;

            just from Jesus simply taking

            life and rest, and joy and peace.

4.            I'm so glad I learned to trust thee,

            precious Jesus, Savior, friend;

            and I know that thou art with me,

            wilt be with me to the end.

           

As we learn to trust Him in our circumstances, in our joys, our pains, as we become skilled at relying on that trust and leaning into God’s sovereignty over all, we find strength and a contentment we cant find anywhere else. 

In His strength, in His wisdom, Walking with Him through this land of Stepville, we find the ability to take it one day at a time.