Simplicity

For many years, I have longed for a life of simplicity.  When I had children, I hoped to be a stay-at-home mom so I could focus on my children and teach them the things of God.  God encouraged me to homeschool my children with a faith-based curriculum, so I did.  The first 3 years, I struggled because I was not sure of myself and I got frustrated.  I enrolled my kids in a small Christian school, eventually becoming a substitute teacher, and God showed me that my expectations were too high with homeschooling and that even schools don’t get the entire curriculum taught in a year.  Three years later, I began homeschooling again, this time through a different Christian school that acted as an umbrella of safety and help.  This is where life became hectic, but still fulfilling. 

My children had extra classes they could take at this Christian school, including P.E. and Band.  There were enrichment classes put on by the parents.  There were social times.  Aside from that, my children had their sports: Soccer and Softball.  Every Sunday evening I sat with the lesson plans for the week and wrote out a detailed schedule.  We had to keep to that schedule or everything would fall apart. 

Yet, we still found time to spend with my parents and family.  Every Friday night we met Grandma and Papa at Roma’s Pizzeria.  We had at least one family gathering a month at my parent’s house to celebrate something, but often there were 2-3.  When my brother’s children became involved in the softball league, our time was even more crunched, so we would sometimes celebrate a birthday at the ball park.

This tightly scheduled life worked, but even as I sit here thinking about it, I don’t know how except for God’s grace!  Then we moved to Henderson, Nevada, a five hour drive from home and family.  Aside from the many visits home to see the family, we had little to do.  My children were in their teens now and suffering without friends.  They had been involved in AWANA back home, so we searched for an AWANA program in Henderson that had a high school program.  There was one on the other side of Las Vegas that we drove to once a week, until we found out that one of the leaders was caught having inappropriate relations with a student!  So we looked closer to home.  We found a small Baptist church that had AWANA clubs up through junior high, so we asked if we could do a “homeschool” version for our son since he was in high school.  They said yes.  This went well enough that the next year there were a few other students interested, so I became the director for the high school program. 

In addition to church and AWANA, once my children found friends, we hosted many parties.  We had a swimming pool, so that was a natural place for the parties.  We hosted “How to Solve a Murder” parties, birthday parties for my children, along with some for children’s new friends, and get-togethers for holidays.  Life became busy again.  Our daughter played a season of soccer in Henderson, but decided that playing in a sport was no longer her ‘thing’.

Then the children graduated from high school, got jobs, went to college/vocational school, and I had nothing to do except ‘mother’ our three Cocker Spaniels.  I tried various things including a sewing group at church that sewed layettes for babies of poor mothers who died at birth, a knitting group, and women’s Bible study.  These were all very good things, but I felt as though I was simply waiting to grow old and die.  So I got a part-time job at a department store, which I loved.

 

In September 2007, our lives were turned upside down when I told my husband he needed to get help for his drinking or get out.  He had been drinking progressively more heavily since 1983, but once we moved to Henderson, the drinking became far worse.  He found a man who claimed to be a Christian counselor and the family started ‘therapy’.  This man tore our family apart.  Our son and his wife separated, our son stopped speaking to me for a couple of years, our daughter was told she had to move out of our home in order to help her dad’s recovery, and I was told I had to quit my job in order because my husband was suicidal and needed my constant supervision.  My sister stopped speaking to me, as well.  This man manipulated us into giving him much money, in addition to the tens of thousands of dollars required for counseling sessions for all of us, including our son and his wife. 

We found out this ‘counselor’ hated women, told me that I was possessed by demons, did not have a real counseling degree, but one he purchased online, was on his third marriage, abused all of his wives and children, and had moved all over the United States conning people out of thousands of dollars and making many enemies.  We finally cut ties with this man, but he held influence over our son for a long time in order to hurt me further.

 

That influence over our son lasted until October 2010, when my mom found out where our son was working.  He had moved back to California in February 2008.  My mom insisted that she and I go to his place of business to see him.  We did, but I stayed back because I was terrified of being hurt again.  My mom waved me over and I hugged my son.  It took a few years, but we are reconciled. 

Although my husband stopped drinking during the initial phase of ‘counseling’, when he realized the lies the man was telling us and the destruction that happened to our family, he began drinking again, with a vengeance.  I chose to sell my beautiful car in order help pay off a few of the bills incurred through this ‘counseling’.  I rarely went anywhere and when I did, often I would have to turn around and come right back home because of panic attacks.  If I did manage to get to a store I used retail therapy to make myself feel better and spent way too much money. 

In January, 2011, my husband was admitted to the hospital for congestive heart failure, atrial fibrillation, high blood pressure, and a large portion of his heart was dead.  He had open heart surgery to replace the atrial valve and remove the dead portion of his heart and was in the hospital for seventeen days.  Throughout the remainder of 2011 he was rushed to the hospital for various reasons relating to his initial hospital stay, including a serious staph infection and a 9 cm aneurysm that was close to rupturing.  Yet, he continued drinking heavily. 

That year two of my beloved Cocker Spaniels died from cancer.  I was bereft.  I needed something to do with my time besides shop.  I had forced myself to get out of the house by selling Avon in my neighborhood and that was helping, but I needed more.  So I began fostering for a Dachshund Rescue.  During the split of my son and his wife in 2008, we gained custody of their precious dachshund and we love him so much!  I wanted to do something to help rescue dogs.  I ended up becoming the Adoption Coordinator and, because it required so much traveling all over the Las Vegas valley, we bought a second car.  I had found my purpose in life.  I fostered dozens of sweet dogs and ‘only’ foster-failed with three of them, adopting them for my own.  I realized that I no longer had panic attacks in public and could carry on a conversation with anyone about these amazing rescue dogs.  I even was able to speak in front of a group of people about my job as the Adoption Coordinator without being at all nervous!  Contrary to the ‘counselor’s opinion of me, I was NOT worthless or demon possessed; I was simply beaten down and needed to be built up.  I continued going to college during this time and most weeks spent more than forty hours at this volunteer job and put over 300 miles a week on my car; but I LOVED it! 

In 2012, my mom died.  The ‘counselor’ must have found out because he sent us a letter of intention to sue us for slander for $500,000, through his lawyer.  We laughed when we got the letter for several reasons.  My mom did not have $500,000; even her house was not worth that because of the property value crash in 2007; we did not inherit anything because my dad was, and is, still alive; and we had NO money, were far behind on our mortgage, and owned nothing of real value.  My husband called the lawyer, explaining this and that anything we might have said against this ‘counselor’ was all fact and could be backed up by witnesses.  We never heard from him again.

In 2013, we lost our home in Henderson through a short sale.  We made no money through the sale and even lost some; and were forced to file bankruptcy.  My dad said, “Come live with me in this big empty house,” so my husband quit his job, we packed everything up, and moved in with Dad.  Within 3 days, we knew it was a mistake.  Dad complained about everything we did and owned including our dogs, which he had agreed to allow us to bring.  We stayed outside, or in our two bedrooms, all day because he didn’t want the dogs in the house.  Without the agreement that our dogs could live in the house with us, we would have never moved to his house in California.  I lived in fear from his anger and violence for almost four weeks; then, the dogs and I moved back to Las Vegas with our daughter.  My husband stayed with my dad while continuing to look for a job.  There were no jobs in California, going back to his job in Las Vegas was out of the question, so he broadened his horizons and looked all over the country.  Four and a half weeks later, my husband drove to Las Vegas, collected me and the dogs and we made a three-day trek halfway across the country to a new job, new home (although rented), and a new life.  We left behind everyone we loved, everything we knew, and half of our many possessions.  Too many of the possessions we had left were broken in the Pod we rented for the move.  I desperately missed, and still do, my children!

If you have never tried moving halfway across the country and living in a Motel 6 for 8 days with five dogs, trust me, it is not fun.  By the third day in the car, I lost my mind and used Rescue Remedy every two hours to drug the puppy because he did nothing but whine and cry the whole way.  The other four dogs were mostly fine.  On the last day of living in the motel, I had a nervous breakdown.  I cried, shook uncontrollably, could hardly speak and screamed when I did.  Then, God found us the perfect home with a huge backyard for the dogs to run around in.  The only problem:  my husband took a 50% paycut for this job.  We lived paycheck to paycheck and still there was not enough money, so I got angry and got a job.

 

I don’t mind working; in fact, I now like being around other people and the physical activity.  But I had to work around my husband’s hours because I didn’t want to leave the dogs alone for hours on end.  So my husband and I rarely saw each other.  I worked 20-30 hours a week and was still going to college.  No matter how hard I tried to keep on top of finances, we would end up with late fees and overdraft charges and payday loans every week.  Then, in March 2014, my husband had to be taken to the hospital from work for emergency surgery; he had a gangrenous gall bladder.  I called in sick and the manager said she completely understood.  When I went back to work, I was written up for not showing up.  My next work shift I got to work, but had a major attack in my car.  I could not get myself to get out of the car, so I called my husband and he told me to go home.  I quit my job.  And finances got better!  After much prayer, we determined that God wanted me to simply stay home, manage the finances and finish college.

We survived this way, although it was still difficult.  I graduated unceremoniously from college, and expected to get a job.  However, by then, my emotional state was that of having PTSD from all we had gone though since 2007.  We decided that I would remain at home and, against my wishes, my husband got a second job.  He was already working 54-60 hours a week at his regular job.  He was constantly exhausted and in pain and angry, and our finances got bad again.  After two months I told him he had to quit.  The money he earned was not helping and his health was suffering!  Oddly enough, finances got better and we determined it was a God-thing for me to stay home and for my husband to work the one job. 

I grew a huge garden both summers we lived in that house God provided and it helped tremendously with our food bill.  I was amazed at how much food we received and how easy it is to garden in the Midwest, through God’s grace.  God used the gardening in summer and the beauty of the snow in winter to cause me to love where He had planted me.  Money was still tight and we lived paycheck to paycheck, but I learned to love it here. 

At the end of July, 2015, I got a call from the property manager saying that the owners of the house wanted to sell it and we would have to be out by September first.  Initially, I was very calm about it.  But I had begun an online auction to sell many of my small things to help pay for vet bills and I was in the middle of that; and I had an order of ten teddy bears from my online Etsy store I was in the middle of sewing.  I had to do all of the house-searching and packing by myself because my husband worked so many hours.  I spent hours online looking for houses in our town and several close-by towns, including a neighboring state.  Then I took one day and drove to all the houses I liked to whittle the list down to ones I really liked. By God’s grace and mercy, I only had one serious meltdown through this time. Half way into August I had packed very little, but concluded my auction, shipped the completed bears, and found a little house on the other side of town.    God provided almost exactly the amount of our vet bills through the auction and the sale of the ten bears, but we had to borrow money from my Dad for the move.  He got angry about it and I got angry back, telling him we were in this position because of his false promise to give us a home while we started fresh in 2013.  Now I only hear from him when I call him every two weeks. 

The final two weeks in our previous home were spent packing, cleaning, and moving boxes into the new house, which we took possession of on August 20^th.  This part I did by myself.  On moving day, August 29^th, we had two young kids (18 & 19 years of age) from my husband’s job help us move.  We could not have done it without them!  By the end of the day we still had half a truck to unload and my husband could no longer stand on his feet.  We made him sit while we finished, then we ate pizza (the standard moving fare, it seems) and the kids went home.  I made up makeshift beds in our new house that is almost half the size (810 sq. ft., one-story, with no basement) of the house we just moved out of (over 1500 sq. ft., two-story, with a basement and two-car garage).  We could barely move in the house and the one-car garage was packed full.  We still had packing and cleaning that took all of the next two days and we had no help to do it.  We felt like zombies. 

When looking for a new place to move, I had a set rental price ($424 less than what we were paying) that I was determined not to exceed, even if it meant living in a fairly bad area.  Again, through God’s grace and bargaining with the homeowner, I managed to hit that target price on the nail, and the neighborhood isn’t too bad.  Because this house is so tiny, it costs much less to cool and heat, as well.  I was determined to lessen the amount we spend each month and pray that my online store would do well.  My store saw no business until a month ago and I am now kept busy sewing teddy bears.  I pray it continues after the holidays so I can begin paying off my student loans. 

The official day of moving, my husband got a call from the owner of the business he works for offering him a promotion and a modest pay raise!  We were excited!  We believe God was blessing our hard work and still is.  My husband loves the new challenge and I love the uptick in business from my store. 

I am struggling with a bit of claustrophobia in this tiny house. We bump into each other and furniture and dogs all the time.  I try to use those times as opportunities to thank God, again, for providing the perfect house and a better financial situation for us.  Shortly after we moved in, my car’s brakes got bad and I was sidelined.  Then the battery died.  The car sits in the garage until we can save enough to fix it and we share my husband’s car.  The back yard at the new house is about one-third, or less, than the old back yard, but I think I will still be able to grow a nice garden.  We are closer in proximity to neighbors on every side, so there is not as much open space or sunshine that hits the yard, so it will be a bit more of a struggle, but I am looking forward to seeing how God blesses my gardening efforts.  I struggle with what my mother used to call ‘houseitis’ because I don’t get out of the house very often, but God is good and is using this time to draw me ever closer to Him.

We have had a difficult life, but have also had some good times.  The only good thing that came out of the time spent at my dad’s house was that my husband quit drinking for good and refueled his relationship with Christ.  Seeing how my dad was opened my husband’s eyes to how he could become if he did not seriously seek God daily and quit drinking.  God pulled the rug out from underneath us in 2013, but we seriously needed it to happen.  We both thank Him for the lessons learned and for surviving thus far.