Aka Letting Go of it All
By Sara Gamachew
I was going through my YouVersion home log today and noticed a friend wrote a note after reading this verse. Her note asked the question, “Who do you serve?” I looked up the verse and reread her note and I heard God speak to me saying write a note of your own Molly. So I started writing the note. Then it hit me this note is just going to reach some people. Why not write an entire post about it.
It has been a few years since I joined the YouVersion community. I had decided on the username Mollyg28. Molly stood for my name, “g” stood for my son, and 28 stood for the day that I decided to leave my husband and start a new life. It made me remember the months that my son and I lived in a shelter far from home. Home to me meant the Northwest where I had grown up. Home also meant a place for my son and I began to start from scratch.
As I sat in our apartment getting used to the post-holiday events I realized how in the past 3 months or so I had changed my outlook on life. I had joined a local Christian women’s group and made up my mind that I was going to make our life different than it had been. I remember how life had been before I joined CWJC (Christian Women’s Job Corp). Just taking that first step out of an unhappy marriage and into a new life was hard enough. See I was in a town that other than my husband’s family and friends I did not know anyone else. I felt like the community would not even like me because I had made my decision to change my whole lifestyle. I remember “Mr. S” saying that he worked as hard as he did so we would have the lifestyle that we were used to. I would counter argue that he did not have to shower me with gifts… I just needed to know that he loved me with or without the material items; he had given me when we were dating. I had never really had been a material girl who wanted things. I was raised on hand me down clothes and toys. I was not looking for a relationship that centered on physical possessions. As a result, that was how that relationship began unraveling.
Fast forward to the winter of 2012. After a lot of hard work, I finally found an apartment that accepted my rental application. It was an answer to my prayers. My goal was to be moved out of the shelter and working a part time employment by the time the hearing in December. I had met at least one out of two of my goals. Various community groups in the small town donated a majority of my furniture and appliances. I had new friends coming and helping us move into our two-bedroom apartment. We even were adopted for the holidays so we had gifts come at us from various directions. I was finally emotional in a positive sense. I had friends who wanted to be our adopted family when I was so far from home. The feeling of loneliness was fading away from my life. Even when the hearing was postponed to February, I had time to get the apartment in order and find a part-time job. I was so thankful that I found a fast food chain that needed part time help. Consequently, by the time the hearing came my friends, a close friend of the family, supporters from the shelter and my son’s daycare surrounded me. I was overwhelmed with such gratitude and backing that when I saw “Mr. S” I was not as emotional wobbly as I was afraid of two months earlier.
By the time May of 2013 rolled around, I was physically and emotionally worn out. My mother had decided to give me an early birthday present by flying my son and me out to the Northwest. I was so thrilled. By that time I had been working part-time for three months and trying to keep up with visits to the doctor (for both my son and I)… not to mention making sure my son was on time for his weekly visits with his father. Yes, those first few months after the divorce were very eventful for me. Even before my mom had invited us up North, I realized that once again I needed a change. I was doing my best being a single mom, but I soon realized even the mom needed mothering and the grandson needed his loving grandmother’s attention. Little did I know that a within a few weeks of flying out my entire world would be turned upside down. What happened the next few days I have to rely on my mother to fill in the blanks. The stress and anxiety did a number on my entire body, spirit, and mind. The damage had been so serious that my mind had blocked several memories from the past few years. So literally, I was starting my life over from scratch.
My life changed intensely in the fall of 2013. My entire immediate family worked together to help me heal from the events of that year. I had to learn how to eat healthy and take care of my emotional and physical body. It was very tough. My support system was growing and included my immediate family and close friends who saw me in a new light. I was a very emotional woman not sure, where she was. The key to my survival in my post-divorce life was taking care of my son. I had pushed myself aside just to make ends meet. So all that was left was a crumbled self-image and a woman just barely emotionally surviving. I was furious at everyone because I had felt like they had abandoned me in my time of need. Where were they when I was crying myself to sleep on an empty couch? The fear that at any time my son’s father would take him from me claiming that I was not a good mother was in the back of my mind. It was a dark time for me. I clung to my mother looking for that connection to my loving past. She was the only one that could bring me back to a comforting and loving surrounding. I could talk to her when my son was not feeling well and she seemed to know what to do. She advised me about how to take care of myself and how it would enrich both my son and my own life. She was my anchor in this storm called life.
It was early September when my past and present collided together. I went to court for another hearing. This time it was the fate of my son’s custody. I was terrified to face my son’s father. He claimed that I had taken our son and was not letting him visit his father. The judge ruled that my son’s father needed time with our son. He was to have an extended visitation of three months (to replace the three months that my son and I were in the Northwest). It was the hardest day of my life. I felt torn apart trying to make the best of the few weeks I had with my son. I still remember the last night before he flew out. He lay asleep as I watched him quietly dream away. Those few weeks I had to make a decision. Not only was I sending my son to visit his father… I had to regain my life. I had to start over, fight my inner demons, and become the woman I was meant to be. I had to choose my battles.