Growth Comes In Time

After moving away to Yuma county Sergio and I both lost contact with several people from our past.  Some were intentional, some happened naturally as our lives grew in different directions.  In the healing process we got busy raising kids, working and keeping up with our jam packed daily activities. We didn’t realize until we slowed down that what we thought were days had quickly turned into months. Months into years.  We let go of relationships that we agreed would not allow us to grow. Others faded away because of shame and regret.  Sergio more often than I struggled with keeping in contact with people, especially if he felt he had hurt a person or let anyone down in any way. As the years passed by it was easier for him to continue to hide from relationships rather than face how vulnerable he still was.  He continued to protect himself from the sting of rejection, as he had convinced himself that no one would ever believe he was changed. The fear of judgment still had a hold of him.  He often would share with me that he wasn’t sure why God spared him to live such a fulfilled life when he had hurt so many people.   Hearing him live in shame broke my heart.   Over the years with love and support I helped him to believe in the man that he looked at it the mirror.  I taught him to tell that man that he had come a long way and that he is proud of him. I sure am.

Unless you have gone through what we have you would not understand that we needed a different kind of support after Sergio was shot.  You may assume that we only ran away when we left the city.   Yes we did run away not because we couldn’t face our demons but because we needed to be in a safe environment. We had been surrounded by toxins unable to grow.   Oh how I wished we would’ve ran sooner. Why didn’t we run faster to a place where we could heal and grow?  

We quickly learned that home was the only place we could protect our very delicate relationship, as we were broken and afraid for our future falling apart.   After leaving the city Sergio admitted that when he returned for a visit he still wasn’t strong enough to stay away from old friends and old habits. He shared that he could still hear the call of the streets and the invitation was often one he wanted to accept.   When he shared this weakness with me I knew how much stronger he was becoming.  Growing up all he knew was drugs and alcohol, this was how one bonded in this upbringing.   This was the only kind of interaction he understood. Helping him continue to grow would require shedding even more relationships and being cautions as to whom we would share our hearts with.  We remained hidden in the place we felt the safest with little to no contact with others from our past.   

This last fall our home phone rang continuously, someone from our past was looking for us.  We often ignore the landline because it’s usually telemarketers  trying to sell us something.  The call was getting annoying as we were trying to visit with friends. Sergio answered to silence the rings. Half eavesdropping I understood that the person on the other line had apparently been looking for us for over ten years. Curiosity hit and I heard Sergio say the name Tina and I immediately knew who was on the other end.  Tina, Allen’s mother, wow it had been 22 years.  She found us and wanted to see us.  Her search was over.

The night that Sergio was shot his friend was shot as well.  Allen lost his life that night in August of 1992 and Sergio was left paralyzed.  In the years shortly following that night Sergio and Allen’s mother Tina started a relationship that included speaking at schools sharing their side for that painful night. Tina had a deep desire to share with youth that violence is never the answer.  Sergio wanted in some way to ease her pain as he carried the weight of shame.  He blamed himself for putting Allen in a terrible situation, he blamed himself for Allen not having the opportunity to go home to his family.  

As I watched Sergio struggle with being paralyzed, I could also see signs of self sabotage.  He began slowly falling into the pit of unworthiness.  Our relationship was unraveling during the time he and Tina started to grow theirs.  I saw first hand how Sergio pretended to smile while inside he was in pain. I knew him enough to recognize the face of defeat. He forced himself through the motions of life while not recovering much from his own trauma.  Every time I heard his voice the sound of despair rang.   Desperation to understand why he would be confined to a wheelchair.  I was also desperate to understand why he couldn’t see that God had spared his life and that I would have stayed by his side had he found his self worth.  As painful as it was I had to let go and move on with my personal goals.  I could no longer guide him if he wasn’t willing to follow my lead.  I tried to hold on but the struggle to not lose myself was overtaking me.  My identity was slowly being stolen.  My every daily routine was trying to protect someone that continued to inflict self harm.  I was losing the battle, I surrendered.

It took Sergio four months to believe that he was worthy of change.  In these four months I would hear some stories of victory and some of defeat.  In the months that he and Tina healed together Sergio slowly started down his own path to recovery without my leading.  The kind of healing I had been praying for.

As I watched and listened from a distance Sergio and I became friends again.  Not really.  I tried to be his friend but once I was in the same room as him I fell right back in love.  As if we had never been apart. I never stopped loving him I only needed room to love myself.  Eventually we made plans to move away and start over. In the quest to regain himself I listened as he would often go down the list of people he felt he had disappointed, one being Tina.  I reminded him that I believe in him and I am a witness to how much he has changed.  Our marriage has recovered from so many obstacles, our unity is a testimony all by itself.  Reminding him often that he has nothing to prove to anyone.   He still felt that he couldn’t face Tina after getting shot the second time, often saying to me  “Tina must think that I was always looking for trouble, I know that I have let her down.”  In my heart and watching him grow I knew this wasn’t the case, Tina would be proud of him.

This weekend we have the opportunity to travel and visit Tina and the rest of her family. I am so grateful for this time we will have to caught up.  After 22 years we will look at each other face to face and share all that the years have taught us.  This weekend may open up some old wounds for Sergio.  Wounds in all of us.  Reliving that night still makes my heart beat a little faster.  We may have to travel back to that terrible night and feel some of the emotions that have not been brought to surface in years.  I am confident that with strength we will use this experience to grow even stronger.  My prayer is that in some way we can all heal in the places that are still wounded.  The darkness we may still carry with come to light.  I pray that my husband can let go of the the need to prove that he has changed, that he can let go of the guilt and shame he has carried for years.  This weekend he can show how far he has come.  His personal strength shows how far he will go. Tina will be proud of Sergio and she will get to see and hear that the very dark night still had light.

Sometimes in our lives we all have to face our past.  The past that has shaped us to be who we are today. The past holds darkness but our future shines bright.  Don’t be ashamed of your past.  Our past experiences may be very different however when we grow and use the past for good, our goal is the same.  To thrive in this world while helping others see their worth.  Embrace it, share it, grow from it, and Keep Rolling On!

A wife to a man in wheels. Sharing my life with all of the struggles in hopes to open up the highways of understanding, compassion, love, and hope.Follow me as I tread through.

Be Brave, Fight Resistance

“Resistance is all around us.  It is hidden in secret places waiting to jump out to stop us from the work we must complete.  It lingers in dark corners of rooms waiting as we move towards our goal so it can derail us.” – Steven Pressfield, The War of Art.

The past few months have been a struggle for me to get on my computer to write, to pick up my book and edit.  It has been overwhelming to complete all my daily activities and demands.

Distractions merging with my passion.  I can usually accomplish what I consider to be a priority which leads to me pushing my dream aside.  Unfortunately after forcing myself to complete a task and giving my leftover energy to my dreams, I find myself unfulfilled and only being half present.

Have you ever pushed yourself through a project only being half present?

 I have been doing this the last couple of months, and then I look back at my work and realize I could have done a much better job had I been fully present.  

“Resistance has no strength of its own .  Every ounce of juice it possesses comes from us.  Master that fear and we conquer resistance.” Steven Pressfield, The War of Art.

This past weekend my daughter and I flew to Tennessee to attend a writers conference. She told me months earlier that if I could only get away once this year, this was the conference she would recommend I attend.  I agreed, bought my tickets and marked my calendar.  Time moved so quickly and it was time to go.  I packed my bags the morning of traveling and didn’t allow myself the opportunity to get excited about my upcoming travels until I was actually traveling.  I wasn’t completely present yet.   

When the conference started I quickly became excited.  I started to relax and once that happened I remembered how I had oppressed my dreams.  Spending time with my daughter and watching her reminded me how powerful we can be when we speak our dreams together.  This trip was what I needed.  I needed to fill my tank with all the beauty that comes from words. Words both written and spoken. The words that come from one’s heart and soul.  This is where I was to be, this is where my tribe is.  My tribe have the same kind of struggles I have with the same passion to dream.  We were all here to leave a piece of ourselves for the world to own.  We were all here to connect as one.

Once I settled into the conference and all its wonderful speakers. I noticed their words were directed at me, my mind and soul opened ready to not only listen but to set out and work to the fullest. The three keys to this conference were to be present, (imagine that) be helpful, and to be brave.  Yes, Norah you must be present!  

As I have often shared I struggle with being present the most.  Shutting off my mind in order to be fully present takes a kind of skill that I lack.   I live in the world of I must be that superhero mom that can multitask to prove that she is successful. I must complete several tasks at one time. I must do an amazing balancing act while I cook, clean, balance the checkbook, return phone calls, write on my blog and shave my legs.  That’s the demands I put on myself, no one has ever demanded this of me.  This is how I fuel my self worth.  How I feel the most productive and I can praise myself for “getting it done”.  Where is my cape?  Supermom has arrived.  Crap my cape is in the washing machine, now I must put it in the dyer. Oh maybe I should finish my laundry?  No one can be completely present giving a task your all when your mind, heart and soul is not completely present. You must be completely there to conquer.

Be helpful was next on the agenda.  In this life we all need community and connection.  In order to live out our dreams we are not fulfilled with living our dreams alone.  Our dreams include others and being a part of their lives.  Help others expecting nothing back.  Even when we feel that we have nothing to offer, give anyways and give wholly with the heart…often.

The last mission on this weekend’s agenda is to be brave.

Not just brave but BRAVE.  

The kind of brave that puts you in uncomfortable situations, the kind of brave that makes your heart palpitate and your palms sweat.  

Be bold with your dreams because they are big and you should give them the energy they deserve.  This is when I should put on my cape and I will as soon as it is dry. I will wear it often, Heroes are brave and you are the hero of your story.  Believing in yourself is the single most heroic act you can do.  

This weekend there has been a revival within.  I  know that I must tell my story and I must use it to inspire others.  My story is import and I am a hero.  Heros do not fall down to resistance they move towards it, they fight through it by being present and with a willing heart to help others.  They give 100% to fight the fight.  If they are ever a victim to distractions they will fall in danger’s way.

After this long weekend of learning I made myself a promise to work towards my goal of sharing my story and to fight resistance.  I will be completely present in my dreams.  I will be helpful to my tribe and I will be brave as I continue my journey to leave a piece of myself to the world.  I will stand tall and reach as high as I can towards my goals, inspiring others to do the same.

What is holding you back from your dreams?  That ugly resistance, fight it!  

What can you do to be 100% in what you know you should be doing.  

What is the one thing you can do today to move in the right direction?

What can you do  to be helpful to others?  

Look around at all the opportunities to be that avenue that someone needs to turn to.  

Be brave.  Be the bravest you can be, remembering that you are the hero of your story.

This is your story and you are writing its ending how you’ve always dreamed it would be. Keep Rolling On!

When I gave birth to my oldest daughter at the age of 14 she was my only child for 14 years until my boys were adopted. Our home had changed dramatically as trucks, bikes, legos and noise were introduced into our lives.  While struggling to get pregnant, I would often dream of how I would look carrying a baby and how Sergio would see me.  I wanted so much to give him the experience of a pregnancy and a birth.  I made myself believe our marriage was not complete without it. When I did get pregnant I miscarried twins and believed that I had done something wrong.  It was my fault because once the babies were living in me it was my job to care for them.  I was in a dark place filled with guilt and shame. The battle to add to our family was very painful, I did not know if I would ever recover.  I didn’t know if I was worthy enough to parent child with special needs.  Children who have been adopted have special needs.  Very specific special needs.  God’s response was “Norah all I asked was for you to answer the call I have on your life, you did that and I will be right here beside you as you give each and every one of our children what they deserve, love.

When those scared brown eyes looked at me my mind instantly asked my heart if we were doing the right thing.  Had we made the right decision?  I was raising two young boys while in the process of trying to become pregnant.  This would be my last attempt to carry a baby.  I was reaching the age I had originally said I would be too old to carry a health baby.  I was almost 35 and felt I couldn’t take any health risks.  Looking at her stare at me without blinking reminded my heart that she needed me.  When those long eyelashes would finally blink I would smile allowing her to feel the comfort I longed to give her.  I knew feeling comfort from a stranger would take time.  I would need to be patient.

It was January 2009 when God placed a little girl in my arms.  I don’t know why He had nor for how long he would trust me in caring for her,  I just knew that I had to answer the call.  A troubled mother asked my husband and I if we would care for her child because her current situation would not allow her to to.  We thought and we prayed about what we should do.  I was scheduled to see a specialty doctor one last time to try and conceive with the latest attending ending in failure.  How could I continue to try and add to our family at a time like this?  What was God trying to tell me?  Why was all of this happening all at the same time?.

A photo posted by @thewheelsofgrace on Jun 20, 2016 at 7:24am PDT

All of these events happened at the same time because God had a plan for not only my life but my whole family’s life and the life of my now 8 year old daughter.  He knew that this little girl would complete our family.

The first few months of her living with us was an emotional struggle, she came to live with complete strangers who often forget to speak her language. Her first language was Spanish and although my husband and I know Spanish, English is what we speak at home.  In the every day to day activities we would forget and talk to her in English until we remembered that she had no idea what we were saying.  We had some growing to do and it needed to start with our communicating with words she could understand and love she could accept.  When I would ask her if she wanted a particular food to eat and she looked at me with a confused look I quickly remembered to ask her again in Spanish. In time we were able to speak in both English and Spanish as she quickly learned English.

Without knowing how long she would live with us we placed a toddler bed in the corner of our room for several months.  This was soothing to she and I.  As a child whenever I stayed anyplace other than home I always wanted to be close to my mother.  If I was going to be fearful it would almost always be at bedtime or in the middle of the night. I wanted to hear her needs if any arose.  I wanted to provide her comfort by giving her close contact with my husband and I. Often in the night she wouldn’t say a word, just crawl into bed and lay beside me.  Whenever I would feel her tiny body next to mine I would wrap my arm around her waist and hold her.  In times when she was obviously emotionally struggling but couldn’t tell me why, I would pull her entire body close to mine and stroke her hair.  These nights I would cry for her.  I wouldn’t allow her to see my tears, I didn’t ever want her to feel that she was causing me any pain. I welcomed any opportunity to embrace her as I was working towards building trust.  This little red framed bed stayed in our room for well over a year. Where she would call her permanent home was not certain.  I couldn’t bring myself to make a room for her only to have to pack it. I was cautious with my heart, I was fearful of the pain I knew it would endure if this little girl left. Honestly whether I would’ve picked up an entire room or just that little bed the pain would have amounted to the same.  The thought of her leaving our home often brought me to tears.  I feared her unknown future.  I was already loving her and dreaming of what she’d look like in the years to come.  I was getting excited at the milestones she would cross and prayed that I would be able to see her accomplish them.

God knows my heart and he knew how that as much as I wanted to have a baby I was just as passionate about children’s rights to be in a loving stable environment.  It pains me to hear stories of children not having a place to call home.  Children not having their needs met.

I didn’t get pregnant and I know why. The painful end to our dreams of me carrying a baby was over.  We did our crying and mourning brushed away the tears help each other and set to raise the children in our home to the best of our ability.  In our recovery process we started counting our blessings one by one.  In doing this God made me realize that I was blessed being called mom by children that needed me to be their stability.  I was blessed that I was a mom to now four.

Over the years and a long battle my relationship grew with my daughter. She began to trust that I would answer her cries and respond to her needs.  Hard times have come and gone. Some days were harder than others. Somedays I didn’t know whether or not I would get to raise her. Her adoption was being contested over and over again.  Not knowing if I would be granted the opportunity of being her mother pledged me.  Living in the unknown was a hard place to be. With hard times came hard questions.  Is my real mom coming to get me someday was a common question. I would respond with I am your mom and I love you and could imagine a day without you.  Some questions I was be able answer and some I was not.  Where does my real dad live was a question I could not answer.

As God continues to work in me and through me I will continue to teach my children.  Teach them that at times we do not understand why things happen the way they do.  We do not have the answers to all of our questions and we do not know why our lives have gone the direction they have gone.  What we do know is that God has a plan for each and every one of us.  He has placed us right where we need to be when we need to be there.  My children will know that God chose me to answer the call because he loves them.

What are you being called to do?  Are you going to answer the call? In my life the calls were literally a phone call but in your life it may be that still small voice.  Are you listening? Are you going to answer it?  If you ignore it you may miss the biggest blessing in your life.  You may miss what you didn’t understand to be your purpose?  Answer the call and Keep Rolling On !

A wife to a man in wheels. Sharing my life with all of the struggles in hopes to open up the highways of understanding, compassion, love, and hope.Follow me as I tread through.