Part II

Okay, I'm going to go through this quick, because I have a lot of catching up to do :)

Let's see...bitter, disobedient...ah, yes....

So, I get there, only after missing the exit, of course.  I pull into a parking place thankful to have just made a wild dash across lanes to finally get off on the right exit and still be alive.  I take a deep breath.  I don't see their vehicle, so I call.  Why oh why didn't I pray?  Why didn't I just LET IT GO!!!  I don't know - but I couldn't.  I was bound and determined to hate this poor woman this particular day.  I dial her number.  They are inside, just ordered.  I'm annoyed.  She sounds a little annoyed too, since I'm earlier than she expected.  My fault, forgetting the time difference in our drives.  They had waited in line a long time and just sat down.  Annoyance certainly understandable.  But I was all out of grace this day.  The next part is tragic, and well, frankly downright embarrassing, but honesty is my vow, or this blog is worthless, so here goes.....

She says something that just hits me wrong (probably something very sweet, I can't even remember, which proves my irritation is not her fault!!).   I take the cell phone and ring it in my hands and make a silent growling/ screaming sound.  Yes, I really did.  Yes, I'm admitting this.

It's not too late to turn back.  You really don't have to read the rest.

Sighs...I look at the phone before putting it back up to my ear.  I guess I thought that little burst of frustration might work in my favor....it didn't.  I had rung my hands to snugly around my candy bar Nokia and hung up on her.

Not good.

Really not good.

I try calling back....no answer.  Voice mail.

I sigh, open the car door, grab my purse and head indoors. 

My stomach is literally turning recalling all of this.

I'm almost to the door. 

I spot them coming out. 

Not good.

Really not good.

She is noticeably irritable.  Well, frankly, she is mad.  Noticeably.  The kids are awkward.  They don't smile.  They don't say hi.  They just follow her.

I say, "What's going on?"

She says, "Well I figured since you hung up on me, you must be pretty upset, so we left."

Oh dear...I'm caught.  And what do I do?  This is the pivotal moment.  I can confess everything here and be humiliated, but have a clear conscience.  I can even ask for a moment alone with her first.  Because parental confrontation with ex spouses is uncomfortable enough...I would never instigate it in front of the children (of course everyone knows its better to do it in your locked car, alone.)  Instead, I just lie, "Sweetie (yes I even went as far as a term of endearment) I didn't hang up on you."  L-O-S-E-R  It's okay, I said it first, so you can agree.

At this point my stomach is violently letting me know I'm a liar...or was that the Holy Spirit?  At any rate, things within are in utter turmoil.  But there's no turning back now, right?

She never breaks pace...she is headed straight for their vehicle to retrieve bags and get them in my van as soon as possible. 

I desperately want to discuss this alone with her at this point. 

The poor kids....oh me.  I wanted to point a wand at them and make them shrink away and hide.  I felt so horribly and utterly responsible.  All the while thinking to myself how much effort and pray I had put into being the best step-mom I could.  I truly felt like all of that work was in vain because of the moment I had caught myself in.  I felt like all was lost and there was nothing ever to be gained again. 

Every time I tried to reason with her, she was short.  Her movements were quick and decisive.  Half of me couldn't believe this professional women was acting this way in front of her children.  The other half was ignoring the log in my own eye in order to think this.  If the kids weren't there I think I would have enjoyed giving her a real piece of my mind.  I mean  I had mentally been doing this the whole way there right?  Now was my opportunity.  But all I couldn't think of was the kids faces.  I had really blown it.  Right now, her actions, wrong or right, were not my concern.  I had to make things right, but how?  She wasn't exactly kosher with a conversation at this point.  And before I sound like a saint, I wasn't pushing it too hard...I was still physically shaking from lying in such a circumstance.

We part.  I go to the bathroom and shake some more.  Vowing to myself there is nothing I could possibly do to make it right.  I struggle through strange and awkward conversation with the kids.  The youngest looks on the verge of a break down.  I don't want to overstep in providing comfort, I understand where the loyalty lies yet I also don't want them to feel alone.  Half of me is mad for her leaving them with me at this emotional point.  I want more than anything to pick them up and comfort them, but it's not what they want.  The sight of me seems to be worsening their grieving.  All they want is for her to come back and have breakfast with them.  This is all I want at this point too, yet I feel as though I've stolen even that from them.  Then I remember I can't take responsibility for how she reacted towards me, only for my poor choices towards her.  I know their starving, she had already confided this in me.  I meekly offered to get them some food.  They stick to their guns and refuse.  Eating without her in these circumstances most certainly would indicate betrayal.  What a sicko to have a part in putting these kids in this position!  Haven't we done enough damage already? 

She calls.  She is apologizing for her behavior.  I accept of course.  She talks to the kids.  We move on down the road.  They still refuse food.

Silently praying as we drive, I know what I must do.  I pull off at the next exit.  I pull into a fast food restaurant.  I get out, turn to the kids and admit my lie.  One of the most humiliating moments of my life I must admit.  I leave the car to call her and apologize.  She is gracious beyond description.  I am utterly and indefinably humiliated.  It was good for me.  I like to consider myself more holy than her.  This helped to correct that.

If the kids had much respect for me, I believe in that moment it was lost.  That broke my heart, although I took comfort in doing what was right.  I love my Jesus.  He held me even after how I had been acting.  He didn't even say, "I told you so." 

I mourned that evening as I recalled the events before my husband.  I mourned for my sin.  I mourned over the humiliation.  I mourned for feeling like the misunderstood.  I think step-moms feel like that a lot.  By the real mothers, by the step-children.  There is so much which is not appropriate to explain to the children and it never will be.  I actually grieve that.  The reality is that most of the time, wanting to explain those things are really just excuses for my behaviors.  Sometimes its because I long for justice and fairness.  But that is impossible, humanly speaking.  This situation is not fair.  It's not fair to the kids.  It's not fair to me.  I actually can say that out loud now.  But weather or not its fair, I'm still required to obey God.  I am still required.  That's fair.  And that's enough, because God is just.  I can trust Him.  I can trust Him to redeem me, even when I'm a real witch.  I can trust Him to take up for me, even when it feels like I'm drowning and no one really notices, especially those I long to notice me so much.  I can not only trust Him, but have joy that even though this blended life is a hard one, it really teaches me about Him -and that makes it all worth it.  Why would I want to be any place else?