Skip to Content
Advanced Search

Hardest Job in the World...

I don't think I've ever been this tired in my life. It is Christmas Day at 7:30 pm and I am done. Done. Done. Done. Christmas is so hard on these kids. There are so many Christmases past that bring about anything but fond memories of family and friends. My kids are stressed out and wound up. They are acting as though they've forgotten everything we've taught them. Z is new here and is so off course. Sometimes I get so frustrated at their choices and saddened by their lack of concern for others. I feel as though I've reached my limit and I'm so, so tired. The worst part is that most of this truly isn't their fault. Do you remember being able to process emotion and trauma at age 9 or 12? They have so many adult experiences and so little ability to process those experiences. They fluctuate between elated and depressed, angry and thrilled, childish and wise beyond their years. And Nathan and I must fluctuate with them, or at least endure their ups and downs. We've tried everything we can think of and read every book we can get a hold of but still we don't have the answers our sons need. We can't explain to them why the past is the way it is, why God allowed these things to happen to them. I don't think I'll ever have the answers my children are searching for. I'm left wondering today if we'll ever have a Christmas that isn't wrought with fights and misbehavior. I wonder if they'll ever love one another as brothers, ever love me as their mom. At the end of it all though, I know I wouldn't change any of it for anything at all. I wouldn't give them back if given the option. Without my sons I would be a woman without a purpose. I adore them, even in these hard times. It is heartbreaking to know that my children will always have holiday seasons marred by the atrocities in their past. I despise the choices that were made that didn't pay mind to the safety and comfort of my two sons. I am appalled at the years of pain they suffered at the hands of selfish, hurtful people. And yet none of that makes this job any easier. None of that keeps me from getting frustrated and overwhelmed and needing a break. So that is where we are on this Christmas Day. My kids are wrought with emotion and fear and pain and I am overwhelmed and feeling rather isolated. And yet, it is still Christmas. Christ is still on His throne and He is still more powerful than all of this. He has a plan for the lives of my two sons and He will see that plan through no matter how fallen I feel. He knows I cannot be perfect and so He is perfect and fills in where I fall short. There is peace in knowing that I can trust Him with my children and know that he will pick me up when I fall down. I hope that anyone who reads this who struggles with the realities of trauma and Christmas will rest in the peace of knowing the One who can bring peace.