Like Two Sparrows in a Hurricane

I’m sitting on my couch. There are tears trickling down my cheeks. My three kids are playing with many multiple toys all around me. I’m holding a jar of canned goods in my hand, trying to muster up the energy to find a box to put them in.

A song comes on the Spotify playlist. It’s about two sparrows in a hurricane. The tears fall harder and faster. That is exactly how I feel.

My neighbor walks past my window and seriously contemplate chucking the can at him. I feel bitterness rising up in my throat and I fight it with all that I have. I remind myself that I can’t live in a place of bitterness, of letting someone else steal my joy.

It’s been a long few months, friends. The hurricane winds descended on us at the very beginning of 2019 with Ezra being hospitalized and my Grandma passing away all in the same week. The winds briefly died down until we moved out of our house and put it on the market and our van transmission went out and we had to find a new vehicle. They have continued to blow and rage and right now it feels like we are in the eye of the hurricane. In August, Theo tore his hamstring which has left us struggling through the recovery of that. Our house has still not sold after seven months of sitting on the market. Earlier this week, Theo was laying laminate flooring in the kitchen when he nearly sliced his finger clean off with a box cutter. I drove him to the ER laughing AND crying…I mean, what else? What is next? Why? Am I allowed to ask these questions? Why does God only give us enough strength to get through the exact present circumstance? Why does it feel like he never gives me more than exactly the amount I need? Where is His abundance of blessings? Am I going to be struck by lightning for writing that on my blog, let alone thinking it in my head?

Unfortunately, that is not the worst of what we are going through. Throughout the seven months that we have lived in our rental property, we have struggled to manage a very tough relationship with our next-door neighbor. When I say next door…I truly mean that his front door is directly outside our side door. We are nearly shoulder to shoulder with just a driveway to separate us. This particular neighbor struggles with his mental health and goes on erratic and highly inappropriate episodes. At first, we just managed them and knew to step away when he began to become out of control. However, over the last few weeks, he has turned all of his anger and inappropriateness onto us. If I step foot outside of my house, he calls me a b*&(ch, f***in Liar, tells me I’m abusive to my children (because they are crying while getting buckled), etc, etc. Really the sentence that I wrote about is just a small example…things have been much, much worse than that. Now, can you imagine trying to get three children buckled into your van all while someone stands about 10 feet away and yells all of that at you?

I am fully aware that his actions are a result of the struggles that he has inside his brain, and that this is a classic example of hurting people hurt people. However, if one more person suggests that I just “be kind” to him I will probably punch them. Smiling at this man brings him to declare that “you look f**in ugly like you got beat up by Muhammad Ali!” Yes, we have talked to the police. Yes, he has a caseworker. Yes, we have tried almost everything that we can possibly think of to kindly deal with the toxic nature of this man.

However, Theo and I have made a decision that we cannot live next to him any longer. We will be packing up and moving back into our home that we are trying to sell.

On paper, it makes PERFECT sense. We have a vacant house that we own and we clearly need to get away from this situation. The logical thing to do is move back into our home. Many people even suggest that God clearly knew we would still need the house and therefore that is why it hasn’t sold. This is a very nice thought, but I am struggling so much with it.

I feel like my dreams have been robbed from me by this man. I feel like I can’t live where I would like to live or do the things that I want to do with my children just because of him. Even though he hasn’t broken into our house and stolen anything, I feel like he has taken so much from my life. Moving back into our house is the last thing that I want to do right now. 7 months ago when we put the house on the market, we thought it would sell almost immediately, that we would enjoy the chance to live in a smaller house for awhile, and then we would use the money from the sale of the house to buy up some investment properties. Every step of the way, the doors have been slammed in our faces. It feels like we are crawling back into our house with our tails between our legs. It feels like we are trying to pray and pursue things and hustle and work hard and surrender it and do ALL THE RIGHT THINGS and instead of seeing positive results we are hoping for, we are weary, in despair and fighting against the hurricane force winds.

And I feel like an epic Christian failure. How can I leave and let this man suffer? WWJD, Suzanne? Wouldn’t Jesus stick around and love him no matter what? If I can’t “save” and love him, who will? Obviously, I know that these thoughts are not correct theology and I’m working through that. But at the same time, it seems that as Christians our actions towards him should be different than all the other neighbors who have lived here and struggled with him over the years.

So back to throwing the canned goods at our neighbor. I didn’t do it. I didn’t throw the can. I put it on the floor amidst all the toys and other things that are strewn across my house. I pray HARD against that bitterness that wells up inside my soul. I wipe the tears from my cheeks and pick up a giraffe to play with Kiah instead.

I’m so overwhelmed. I’m so weary. I know that I need to pack up our entire house, but for now I will pray and process and play with my kids. I will probably go through an entire box of Kleenex just from crying this week while I pack. We will move back into our house and I will FIGHT for thankfulness, even though it’s not where I want to be. Theo and I are a united force in this, and for that, I am beyond thankful. They say that year 7 of marriage is one of the hardest, and so far that has been SO true…but not because of internal circumstances, only external circumstances.

So I realize that the theology of this song is…lacking. But the song encouraged me just a little bit when I heard it this morning.

Like two sparrows in a hurricane
Trying to find their way
With a head full of dreams
And faith that can move anything
They’ve heard it’s all uphill
But all they know is how they feel
The world says they’ll never make it
Love says they will