Single File Lines

SINGLE  FILE LINES

Welcome to my new sub-feature,  Single File Lines (by Kelly) 

That’s me. 

A Christian divorcee’ and single (again) mom to four fantastic children and a wonderful bonus son. 

I’ve added this “file”  to my regular  column,  “The Pretty Good Report” @ Patheos to share my SWF (single, with family) adventure. 

When I married, over two decades ago,  I never pictured someday I’d be learning the ropes of modern  dating alongside my own children, and yet, here we all are,  mo’ awkward than a mohawk, monitoring each other’s behavior online. 

The truth is, I wasn’t single for any significant stretch of time the first go round.

Fresh out of high school, working as a K4 teacher in the same small Christian school I had just graduated from, I married the father of a student in the neighboring K3  class. All before a year from graduation had passed. 

Think back with me for just a moment, if you will. 

I think about it often: 

• Graduated high school in May. 
• Started teaching in September. 
• Turned 18 in October. 
• Met my ex  2 weeks later. 
• Married him after 4 months, in February.  
• Had my firstborn 2 weeks before turning 20. 

Two decades, 35+ moves and four children later, domestic disturbance turned the page and wrote me single again … anew.  

Now, I am like a senior citizen, once called away to war, returned to finish school.

I have been picking up where I left off, learning who this young girl I froze in time would like to become.

And I’ve brought with me a world of hard-won knowledge, not found in the textbooks I left behind.

THIS IS NOT DEAR ABBY 

Whenever we face transitions in life, there are many well-meaning people who come bearing Gold, Frankincense and Free Advice. Some of it will be really good. Some of it won’t fit. And some of it will be flaming rubbish. 

One friend was told his divorce was the result of reading a new Bible translation. By those who were meant to bandage his wounds. 

Think about that with me for a moment, will you? 

I think about it often. 

Some people mean well, and some  people are just mean. 

This feature is a place to share my own journey – not necessarily advice. 

What was true of my situation may not be true of yours.

What worked for me, might not apply to you. 

And this is true across my smorgasbord of topics.

Whenever I have something to say, grab the salt and shake away. 

I’m not here to give advice, but I can listen… without being mean.

SOMEDAY 

One adage people use to comfort sounds something like this: “Someday, you’re going to meet a person who is going through the same thing and…” 

Sometimes the ending sounds like: “… it will all be worth it.” 

Other times, the ending is more realistic “… you’ll be able to help in ways that people who haven’t been through this can’t” 

I remember doubting that was ever going to happen – or bring any real measure of joy – either way. I mean, really, what did I  have to say? 

A friend recently remarked “You hold your cards close”  – and he’s right.

I struggle to write publicly. I hate being misunderstood, or worse, willfully misconstrued. 

I struggle to share in ways that may be weaponized against me. I’ve had too much of all that. 

And I struggle with believing that anything I have to say isn’t being said more sufficiently and eloquently somewhere else. 

I don’t think I’m unique in these struggles.  

But even when a struggle is common to many, it must be overcome to become a victory. 

Do you know what helps? Getting to Someday. 

SUDDENLY, SOMEDAY

 Until you reach Someday, every other day is just another day. 

But one day! 

One day,  the meme group you belong to  – dedicated to theology and that television show about beets, bears and Battlestar Galactica – becomes sacred ground. 

You notice that one of the group’s Top Contributors has changed her name. 

She’s making jokes about co-parenting, posting memes about Christians and divorce. 

You reach out, exchange numbers and, ironically, the resulting conversation is still going on as you drive to make a co-parenting switch of your own.  

You’re not going to believe this, but you are still on the phone, telling your new friend she is not alone when your car battery dies in front of your ex-husband’s house.

Providence sends the son who was dragged into court and cross examined – the one who told a roomful of lawyers he wasn’t really sure his mom loves him – to your rescue with jumper cables. 

Later this week, a new battery will need to be financed on your single mom budget, but it doesn’t matter in this moment. All the labor pains have become a memory. 

Time has allowed your son to see truth. He moved in with you a while back and the talks have been good.

He is deeply loved and valued … and he knows it.

You laugh at the whole predicament with your new friend, (who is going to weather her storms, too) and sing along to the radio on your way back home.

Suddenly, it’s Someday. 

And Someday is beautiful.