Overcoming FOBA
If FOMO affects all of us, then FOBA is a special case for single moms- Fear of Being Alone. It can kick in at restaurants, museums, family outings, or really anywhere. I had to start overcoming my FOBA even before I became a single mom because my ex worked weekends and generally went down his own path. The hardest place for me to get comfortable on my own was church. For many reasons, I found myself on the other side of religion and stubbornly kept myself out of the system. It wasn't until I was feeling so alone that being alone didn't matter any more and I decided to give it a shot. I looked for a sign and found it in a small church just a few miles from my old home. When I looked on the church's website, I saw that the nursery shared my daughter's name and that my 7th grade math teacher worked as the church administrator. Those silly synchronicities prompted me to give faith a chance, even if it meant sitting in the back and hiding my tearful eyes behind funeral sunglasses on the way in and out of the service.
The small but super welcoming community helped me feel at home in my early struggle of coming to terms with the end of my marriage. I did the readings, I did the praying, I did the work, and ultimately I started to feel better. It became easier to talk about my family and myself. But I found myself struggling because although I felt comfortable in the small group, I wanted my children to have more friends and that just wasn't happening when they were regularly the only kids in the nursery. I gave myself an ultimatum- by the following Christmas, I wouldn't be sitting in the pew without my husband. Well, that ultimatum did come true. Not because he was there, but because we split. I no longer had a husband to miss.
At that point, FOBA could have overwhelmed me, but instead it led me directly to the place that I once feared. I took myself to a very large church, alone, on my birthday of all days. For my thirtieth birthday, I set out early on a mildly icy morning into a new church. By the time the service was about to wrap up, the storm had kicked in stronger, so I decided to stay for the next service, too. I met a few parishioners, sampled sticky buns twice (no judging, I was pregnant) and let the poignant music sink in. I thought of the loving widow who used to shepherd me to church in my childhood (my grandma) and I ultimately didn't feel so alone.
Over the past two years, our church has been a haven of friendship and spirit. So many familiar faces share in the joy of seeing my children grow each week. It was easy to enroll them in vacation bible school, Sunday school, and the children's choir. Sometimes it's hard to deflect the questions about their Dad, or to brush away the pangs of jealousy at seeing all the beautiful families in the services. But it's getting easier to be part of the group and to see the radiant beauty of all the people that make up our church family. We're part of that. I'm coming to learn that sometimes we find comfort in the very places that lie outside our comfort zone.
One of the things that has been on the back of my mind since the baby was born, was getting the girls baptized. I had missed out on getting the other two baptized in their infant stages because of the chaos that ensued our life. Now that we really were taking faithful steps each week, it seemed natural to get them baptized. But was it natural? Certainly our family would look different without the male standing at the helm, or even standing there at all. I teased the idea against him once and he literally spat his retort. I shelved the idea for a time, until I saw another single mom have her son baptized as a toddler. I began to rethink the "picture" and realized that maybe it could be for us. Still, I considered if maybe we should have the ceremony during a smaller service or if someone should stand with us. How would I manage all three kids on my own in front of all those eyes? Ultimately, I decided to turn it over.
Last weekend my three girls were baptized in a fanfare. On Palm Sunday, it was arguably the most well-attended service of the year outside of Christmas and Easter. Throngs of children paraded into the sanctuary waving palm branches. The amazing choir anthem rang right in front of us as we sat with family and friends who joined us for the special day. I started to tear up thinking about how beautiful it all appeared- tears of joy- and a gentle inside voice reminded me to breathe. Lots of mini mantras and prayers help me get through these moments of fear. It's amazing to see what can happen when we let love in.
The small but super welcoming community helped me feel at home in my early struggle of coming to terms with the end of my marriage. I did the readings, I did the praying, I did the work, and ultimately I started to feel better. It became easier to talk about my family and myself. But I found myself struggling because although I felt comfortable in the small group, I wanted my children to have more friends and that just wasn't happening when they were regularly the only kids in the nursery. I gave myself an ultimatum- by the following Christmas, I wouldn't be sitting in the pew without my husband. Well, that ultimatum did come true. Not because he was there, but because we split. I no longer had a husband to miss.
At that point, FOBA could have overwhelmed me, but instead it led me directly to the place that I once feared. I took myself to a very large church, alone, on my birthday of all days. For my thirtieth birthday, I set out early on a mildly icy morning into a new church. By the time the service was about to wrap up, the storm had kicked in stronger, so I decided to stay for the next service, too. I met a few parishioners, sampled sticky buns twice (no judging, I was pregnant) and let the poignant music sink in. I thought of the loving widow who used to shepherd me to church in my childhood (my grandma) and I ultimately didn't feel so alone.
Over the past two years, our church has been a haven of friendship and spirit. So many familiar faces share in the joy of seeing my children grow each week. It was easy to enroll them in vacation bible school, Sunday school, and the children's choir. Sometimes it's hard to deflect the questions about their Dad, or to brush away the pangs of jealousy at seeing all the beautiful families in the services. But it's getting easier to be part of the group and to see the radiant beauty of all the people that make up our church family. We're part of that. I'm coming to learn that sometimes we find comfort in the very places that lie outside our comfort zone.
One of the things that has been on the back of my mind since the baby was born, was getting the girls baptized. I had missed out on getting the other two baptized in their infant stages because of the chaos that ensued our life. Now that we really were taking faithful steps each week, it seemed natural to get them baptized. But was it natural? Certainly our family would look different without the male standing at the helm, or even standing there at all. I teased the idea against him once and he literally spat his retort. I shelved the idea for a time, until I saw another single mom have her son baptized as a toddler. I began to rethink the "picture" and realized that maybe it could be for us. Still, I considered if maybe we should have the ceremony during a smaller service or if someone should stand with us. How would I manage all three kids on my own in front of all those eyes? Ultimately, I decided to turn it over.
Last weekend my three girls were baptized in a fanfare. On Palm Sunday, it was arguably the most well-attended service of the year outside of Christmas and Easter. Throngs of children paraded into the sanctuary waving palm branches. The amazing choir anthem rang right in front of us as we sat with family and friends who joined us for the special day. I started to tear up thinking about how beautiful it all appeared- tears of joy- and a gentle inside voice reminded me to breathe. Lots of mini mantras and prayers help me get through these moments of fear. It's amazing to see what can happen when we let love in.
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