The Comfort of My Chair

Today, there was a great sermon preached at Grace by our favorite pastor, David Bell.  David has the way of taking the Word and bringing so much practical sense to my life when I seem to need it most.  The last few weeks I have been in constant prayer about work.  I have felt beyond overwhelmed with the severity of mental illness at my school.  Kids as young as first and second grade wanting to kill themselves on a daily basis, self injury, and endless trauma of all kinds normally seems to suck the life out of me.  I've used the analogy that if my heart and energy were a pitcher of water, I would bone dry by Wednesday, and not really always present by the end of the work week.  I never feel filled up when I return on Monday.  And lately, the deficit has taken it's toll.

In church, David preached about James 2 and how our faith without deeds is life less.  Afterward there was a song the worship pastor wrote the used the metaphor of someone sitting in their comfortable house in a big chair looking out their window into a storm and feeling God's call to get out of their comfort and help those in the storm of life.  As one can imagine, I instantly had my hands up in praise thinking about the fact that each day that I sip my coffee with my fluffy dog and wonderful husband in my comfortable home, I am preparing myself for another day in the storm.  I am preparing my heart, mind, and soul to experience sadness, deprivation, and trauma like I have never known it in my life.

See today, I continued to sit and ponder on how and why God has blessed me to be one of the few who have a "comfortable home out of the storms of life".  And lately, I just want to shut the blinds in my windows and ignore everything there is outside of this comfortable place.  There are days of the storm that rock me so hard to my core, that I want to hide under my comfortable chair and pretend like God never blessed me so much.  I think lately, I have felt like I "should" help these kids, and I "should" feel happy about it.  Today, I realized that there will be a lot of sorrow standing out in a storm all day.  There is a purpose for this home, to come back and regain my sense of self.

Today, as I thought about my comfortable house, I thought about the passage about building a house upon the rock (Matthew 7:24 Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock.).  So many of my families do not know Jesus, and their lives are about survival.  This even could be said for many of my friends, drinking and jumping from relationship and relationship day to day to find joy, peace, or purpose.  Should my role not be only to stand with the broken in the sand but to actually help them to find a rock of foundation and a home of comfort of their own?  I can choose to stand every day in the storm with them, or I can be a light to the peace and joy that comes from knowing Jesus.  So often, I almost feel ashamed, nervous, or embarrassed as I stand with my families when I think about sharing my faith.  But it's my faith that got me to a place where I feel compelled to serve out of love every day.  It's my faith that has formed me to think less about myself and more for others.  It's my faith that has some how tied my messy life together and made it the blessing that it is.

I realized, yet again, what a beautiful thing it is to have a relationship with Christ today.  I realized just how much I need Him, the church family, and the hope that comes with knowing that some day we will all find the comfort of our "home".  Until then, I suppose to I will rest a bit in that comfortable chair and then suit up in my rain gear for another storm.  I think whether it be in the charter school, the play therapy room of a private practice, or in my own family, there will always be the storms of life.  I just had to recognize that the purpose of my life isn't to sit and observe.  I will have to just enjoy those quiet moment in the comfort of my chair as they are so very necessary to make it through the storms of this life.  So as the last few minutes of my weekend tick away, I play to go spend it with the people in my life who are my comfort, my peace, and my blessing.  Tomorrow will be another day in the storm, but tonight is where I fill myself up to send my self out tomorrow...  

Crawling

Sometimes when I am really struggling through the day, a song comes on and motivates me.  I guess that's the amazing thing about music.  Today, as I am about to pass out at 10 pm yet again because of a long and stressful day, I was passing through an old I-Pod playlist to come across Superchick's Crawling.  I realized, I am probably not the only one crawling through the day.  Maybe this song can help remind another person that God crawls through the messiness of life with us.  So enjoy Superchick :)  I just need to sing and worship through the days when it feels like I am crawling.  Maybe my kids see me as one who crawls with them, too.  Here's to hoping that the smallest thing can make a difference....

How long will this take?
How much can I go through?
My heart, my soul aches
I don't know what to do
I bend but don't break
And somehow I'll get through
'cause I have you

And if I have to crawl
Will you crawl too
I stumble and I fall
Carry me through
The wonder of it all
Is you
See me through

Oh Lord, where are you?
Do not forget me here
I cry in silence
Can you not see my tears?
When all have left me
And hope has disappeared
You find me here

And when I have to crawl
Will you crawl too
I stumble and I fall
Carry me through
The wonder of it all
Is you
See me through

When everything I was is lost
I have forgot where you have not
When I am lost you have not lost me(2x's)

You have not lost me

And if I have to crawl
Will you crawl too
I stumble and I fall
Carry me through
The wonder of it all
Is you
See me through

Another Hill to Climb

It's been over four months since we got married, and married life is much easier than I had planned.  I figured the first year of our marriage we would be having crazy little fights about the dishwasher and trying to get our budget in line.  I thought that all of the stuff I had been working for in my life would have fallen into place, and it would be what was in our house that was causing trouble.  Luckily, but ironically, it's more of the opposite.  I am back to realizing that the severely mentally ill population is just not the one for me.  I have been revisiting my journals, blogs, and essays only to find that I know I am not where I want to be professionally.

It hasn't helped that systemically where I am is a bit, well, unorganized, but I am finding myself unchallenged in someways and over challenged in others.  It's funny that the mental health field can be so stretching and diverse.  People sometimes say, "well, you're helping people", but sometimes being a therapist is more than just encouraging someone.  More times than not, I think therapy is about making changes and finding hope.  In small group for church, a new friend asked, "isn't it weird how community mental health is nothing like what you pictured you would do in school?"  The question stuck with me throughout the evening.  Intake paperwork, OTR's for more sessions, assessments, team meetings, and car trips to the doctor were never on my radar.  The time I would spend writing about a person rather than working with them almost seems to make the time we spend together so brief and less meaningful.

What I had pictured was....  I remember what it felt like to have a play therapy room where children came with their parents.  I remember engaged families who wanted to see change.  They showed for most appointments, had some insight to their roles, and were committed to the process.  My families weren't high in income, but they seemed to have some sort of investment in therapy.  They wanted change and they were willing to make changes to see changes.  I remember later nights with a mother who had escaped an abusive situation with her four children and I remember the conversation that last session when she looked back at her children's progress.  She cried and stated that for over a year all four of her kids were paralyzed with fear and seemed like they were reliving the trauma.  After eight months of play therapy, filial therapy, and family therapy sessions, the kids were blossoming.  With the children at the babysitter, she cried for two hours while we processed her own journey, her guilt and shame, her wishes for her children, her plan to get them there, and the joy she felt in knowing she had helped them by asking for help.

There was something wonderful about that old counseling center on 42nd street.  The old house had a sense of comfort, calmness, and separateness that most days I crave as the screaming kids, banging walls, and horrible bell systems seem to interrupt my children's stories of their lives.  Now days, I almost beg parents to come to session.  They have nothing to pay, no time to invest, and are only good at continuing to see the bad while still denying their role.  While I have moments of exception and days where I see a change, the majority of my time walking through community mental health has been a sad realization that change is a choice, and some people aren't ready to make that choice for themselves, their children, or their communities yet.

I think I am still on my journey.  I remember what it was like to have a sense of purpose as a therapist and not feel like a babysitter for angry children or a cab driver, lunch lady, disciplinarian.  I am getting that itch to figure out where this journey will lead.  I am getting closer to the top of another hill where the road will continue to lead down the next twist.  I think in some ways I will hate to let go, but in others, I need to for my own mental health.  I am plotting, planning, waiting for direction, but I will not stop.  I am not sure where this journey is leading but I am excited for the possibilities.  In the mean time, I am going to try and find the bright spots each day, even if I only spot a few...

I've never met a person, I don't care what his condition, in whom I could not see possibilities. I don't care how much a man may consider himself a failure, I believe in him, for he can change the thing that is wrong in his life anytime he is prepared and ready to do it. Whenever he develops the desire, he can take away from his life the thing that is defeating it. The capacity for reformation and change lies within.
~Preston Bradley~

Valley of the Shadow

They told us when I worked in foster care that you tell post adoptive parents in the process of therapy it normally gets worse before it gets better.  Comforting...?  When I start with families on their journey through therapy, I am sure they never think of letting their child sleep alone in a hospital room trying to keep them from killing themselves.  Kids are funny in the sense that so often we see them as these innocent beings who purely experience joy and play.  Working with children with mental illness is probably most difficult because every day I see students who sometimes hate living.  They find no joy in play, they have no motivation to work, and the world is bad. 

Today, as I admit my fourth child in my career to inpatient, I find myself overcome with the sorrow that parents reflect to me that their child "is really this bad".  I feel drained again.  I know going to the hospital means stability for this child, but then I am overcome with the daily struggles leading up to this decision.  Will this child ever just experience play, friendship, love, and a care-free day?  I am supposed to comfort, guide and counsel my families, but daily I wrestle with my own theological understanding of why children go through such pain.  I struggle to have words.  So I stopped and reflected... the only thing that came was a song by Mark Schultz:

I call, You hear me
I’ve lost it all
And it’s more than I can bear
I feel so empty
You’re strong
I’m weary
I’m holdin’ on
But I feel like givin’ in
But still You’re with me

And even though I’m walkin’ through
The valley of the shadow
I will hold tight to the hand of Him
Whose love will comfort me
And when all hope is gone
And I’ve been wounded in the battle
He is all the strength that I will
Ever need
And He will carry me
I know I’m broken
But You alone
Can mend this heart of mine
You’re always with me

And even though I feel so lonely
Like I’ve never been before
You never said it would be easy
But You said you’d see me through
The storm

And even though I’m walkin’ through
The valley of the shadow
I will hold tight to the hand of Him
Whose love will comfort me
And when all hope is gone
And I’ve been wounded in the battle
He is all the strength that I will
Ever need
And He will carry me

Praying that the Lord carries me through tonight.  I pray he carries my kiddo and their family.  I pray he carries all my kids, their families, the teachers and staff, and all the other therapists and workers coming into the Valley of the Shadow daily....  We are in a battlefield... give us strength to fight again tomorrow.

The Faith of a Mustard Seed

Today is September 11th, and I've spent the past few days really processing the loss and changes in my world view since 2001.  I didn't ever really stop to think about the ripple of lives effected by 9/11 until this year.  Thinking about over 3,000 total people killed, thousands more injured, and millions who lost a friend, parent, sibling, child, mentor, or co-worker just sort of blew me away.  Over the last couple years of working in the mental health, I am always amazed by the power of one person to change someone's life.  Listening to the number of memories shared today on TV of the people lost, I realized just how big the tragedy really was for our country.  Something about it being 10 years ago also made me realize how much time changes things.  The small toddlers who lost their mommy's and daddy's in the attacks were now teens.  And I, a teen when it occurred, am now old enough to counsel high school teens.

I thought about the number of dreams that died that day.  Marriages meant to last until old age, parents who never saw their children grow, and friendships ended without truly saying good bye.  Time does pass quickly, and I am amazing how often I don't stop to think about each life, breath, goal, dream, and opportunity that comes my way.  Many times I am so future focused, I miss the innumerable amazing things in front of me.  Many of my days at work feel like waiting for the clock to hit 5pm, so I can go home.

Today for many moments I stopped to recognize the vastness of each human life.  God really slowed me down to recognize just how big the life in front of me has been, is now, and will continue to be.  Each kiss good bye, drive to work, lunch with a friend, session with a client, phone call to a loved one has meaning in this life no matter how insignificant it feels.  I thought back over the last year and just realized how many amazing moments have led me to this one.   Each human life has the potential for such an amazing long journey, rich with detail.  And I think most of the time we spend our lives waiting for the powerful moments when we forget to realize that it's the small conversation with a friend, a walk with your dog, or a family get together that can forever shape a relationship.

Last Friday, I was fried.  I said to my supervisor that I was not sure my work at my inner city school was really making an impact.  I felt useless, helpless, maybe even a hindrance to the kids growth.  The last four weeks have been a whirl wind of child self injury, impulsiveness, and defiance.  I've felt powerless in a giant world of negativity.  I think I was almost consumed by the darkness, when my supervisor reminded me of my role of planting a seed.  I plant a seed a love, patience, boundaries, care, and protection in each of the lives of my 26 students.  Over the last three years, I have worked with over 200 families in Central Indiana in four locations.  I planted hundreds of seeds.  Hundreds of small moments that I know God will use for his glory.  Not because of me, but because I came to serve in love even in the days when I feel selfish.  I know I could have picked an easier life, but I chose this one because I felt called to give.

So tomorrow I start a day of small moments.  I pray I am intentional with each of them.  I hope I am daily reminded that each comment, hug, high five, encouraging word, eye contact, or suggestion could be what helps someone make it through the day.  When I leave this earth and see Jesus face to face, I can only pray that he looks at me and says, "Look at all those little seeds and how they grew... you couldn't see them up close but now when you step back, here they are".  I think if I learned anything from 9/11, it was the value of one life.  We all have the power to change the world for someone or sometimes many people.  Never forget how much power you have...

Jesus told them. "I tell you the truth, if you had faith even as small as a mustard seed, you could say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it would move. Nothing would be impossible."

Forever Changed...

I dated a guy in college named Mike.  We met after I lost the first love of my life at a party.  I was lost by his eyes, smile and kindness.  I was hurting and lost, trying to pick up the pieces of my life and figure out who I was.  Mike admitted that college and life in general was leaving him to wonder he was, too.  We spent hours in coffee shops talking about all that felt wrong, what it would be like to have it together, and the pain life brings.  Then we would spend more time in the formal living room at Phi Mu, he playing piano and I listening.  We talked about God, church, love, friendship, family, and dreams.  For two months we were very close, and I think I shared more time in real close conversation with him than I have with many of the people in my life I call close friends.

In my pain, friends wrapped around me and helped me to realize that dwelling in my pain was not going to solve it.  I had to choose a life of searching for joy or being swallowed by sorrow.  I realized that I was not over the first boyfriend, ended things with Mike, and tried to heal myself without just moving on to the next thing.  Mike was stunned but quietly agreed we both needed to find peace, not fall into a co-dependent relationship.  He backed out quietly, and I just always trusted he would find his own peace in his own process.

A few days ago, I got a text message that Mike was dead.  Little details led me to wonder what had happened.  Over the last six years, Mike had stayed in touch.  It was like a seasonal check up that normally left me worried, sad, and wishing more for him.  I had found my peace, found passion, love and joy again, but he was still lost in his own grief and sadness.  He couldn't find the source of his pain and his anxiety that over took him through panic attacks and then bouts of severe depression.  He started living other lifestyles and constantly told me that he felt lost and unsure.  I kept telling him that he needed a therapist, a medication evaluation, but I never followed through to be more persistent even though I knew he needed one badly.

Last night I had a dream, a nightmare that brought me wide awake today.  Michael was in my dream desperate, panicked, and upset.  In the final moments of the dream, he was curled up on the floor crying that he just felt lost.  Again, I felt hopeless.  See a year ago, Michael reached out to me more desperate than ever before.  He had said his panic attacks were occurring more frequently, and he kept apologizing to me for his lifestyle change.  He asked about how I felt about his lifestyle and if I judged him.   I told him that I didn't judge him.  By the end of our conversation, I remember thinking that he was not in a good place.  While he was on my mind the rest of the day, I never reached out.  I was engaged to be married and I was more worried about what my fiance would think about me talking to him than I was about Mike's safety.  At the time I felt like my hands were tied, but now I just feel like I abandoned him.

I think God places people in your life for a reason.  We have an web of connection with people.  We can be each other's strength, sometimes we have to let others go, and the discernment to know when to do that is so hard but so precious.  As a therapist, I felt a desire to reach out, but ethically bound not to play a role that I shouldn't have.  And honestly, I was so wrapped up in me, my wedding, and my new life, that I selfishly closed Mike out of my mind that July afternoon.  When someone tells you that you're the one person they feel safe talking to, you should never trust their just being nice to you or over exaggeration.  Today, I have a sense of wonderment and regret: along the journey, did I forget to help someone reaching out because it wasn't a pre-planned part of my day?  And if I did this to him, how many other people have I turned a blind eye to so that I could keep serving me?  See I left that last conversation with him because my co-worker wanted to go to lunch when I really had no set lunch break.  We ate Quizno's while Mike pondered everything in his life.  I had left him twice in big ways to say I was too busy or that I cared more about me and my needs than his.  Would he still be here if I had given him more of my time?

I pray that everything that is said about death in the Christian faith is not true some days.  This world is so broken, so painful, and so hard that it feels ironic that the God of love would punish us for getting lost in it.  And maybe God should be more upset with our selfishness when those who are lost ask for our help and we turn a blind eye.  How many times are there people that we know, love, and see crying out for help and we simply roll our eyes and move on?  Facebook posts talking about giving up, people lost in drugs and alcohol abuse, kids with marks and bruises or hungry, clanging cups for change downtown, dirty hands looking for water, for hope and bread... There are so many moments in my day where I just push past all those along the side line reaching out because I'm tired, I'm frustrated or I'm wrapped up in me.  No matter how much love and joy there is in this life, no matter how much you love the Lord and worship, there is still an endless stream of pain and sorrow that keeps moving and rolling through.  We can hide our eyes to it to save ourselves from sorrow, but it is still there.

I am left changed today.  The ending of Mike's life has forever changed mine.  He walked out quietly and this time I can only pray for the mercy of what comes after death.  Whatever that is...  To the God of the universe, the earth, stars, of all of Creation, hear the cries of your people and give them peace....

RIP Michael J. Terlicher.....

The Peak of Dawn

Tomorrow is my wedding.  The dress is hanging up on the door, my bags are packed, and the rehearsal is over with.  Ironically, I think I've worked out most of the anxiety for the night.  In silence I sit and think about the day ahead.  It's like I know this journey is about to have it's splendor.  There is excitement, but this feels like those first few minutes in the dark before the sun comes over the horizon.  I know it's coming on it's time and I have an ironic sense of peace about it.  This last 13 months has been months of planning and today I crossed off the last of the tasks on theknot.com's to do list. 

The hard part is over.  The climb, the struggles, the decisions.  Now I just have to wait to float down that aisle and marry the man of my dreams.  To some that would be anxiety provoking, but for me, it feels like it's just meant to be.  I have no doubts going into tomorrow.  I feel like I am about to be a little more complete.  I am ready to get married.  I am ready to finally call Chris my husband.

I am tired, maybe even worn out.  Tomorrow will be a long day, but a day of joy.  I have pictured it in my head, and like all of my pictures, it will probably be different, but I have a few magical moments when I stop feeling like I could throw up, stop sweating, and just realize the magic, the power, the holiness of the day.  Tonight is my solitude with the creator of marriage.  I am in awe that I was created and have found a love like this.  No where in my life story do I find that I deserve this kind of love, but here I am....  God has been so good to me, and it's about to get better.  Now I just wait.  The sun is about to rise and I am so close.  The splendor of a sun rise or a sun set is so small in comparison to the time in a day.  I want to savor it.  I want to bask in it.  I want to be at peace and attentive to detail and find pure joy in it.  This is my sunrise, one of the few in my life. 

8 hours from now, the happiest day of my life will begin.  There will be storms in life ahead, but tomorrow is my moment in the sun.  Once in a lifetime moments have made up a good chunk of the last year: getting a masters, getting engaged, buying a house, and now getting married.  This one is the big one.  I'm ready, I'm joyful, and I cannot wait to be Mrs. Christopher James Siegl. 

Pebbles and Mountains

As I journey on closer to the wedding, I've started to hit the snares and snarls that every bride with a large wedding describes.... "it was just those last two weeks before the wedding"... "I just couldn't wait for it to be over" etc. etc.  The last few days what felt like mountainous climbs on an endless hill have continued to be re-proportioned.   While my emotions feel like a nightly tornado sweeping in after business hours sifting through 20 wedding related emails and all the emotions that draw with it, I found myself just caught up and stuck.  Devastated in the wake of reality, I think I've taken on a zoomed in notion of what used to be the fun little things I did on a Sunday.  I'm not saying I want it all to be over, far from it, I think I just forgot that as I staggered up the mountain, I was simply staring at my feet and I forgot to look around.

It's sort of ironic that for a few days I've been overly consumed by meaningless pebbles getting in the way of watching the rising sun.  In the day time, I process sexual abuse trauma, deal with families being evicted, poverty, gang violence, murder, incest, neglect, loss, criminal acts of violence, etc etc etc.  With my clients, who are barely standing, much less making progress in walking up the hill, I found myself pouting and tantruming over pebbles.

I used to use a metaphor with foster parents to help them acknowledge the struggle their kids carried.  "Imagine yourself with a hiking pack on your journey up a mountain.  You find yourself alone climbing up steep terrain, tired, lonely, scared.  When you turn to your left and see hundreds of your peers climbing quickly, almost running up the hill.  You realize quickly the packs are empty or only contain a few small pebbles of weight.  They laugh, smiles, talk with their friends, and enjoy the afternoon hike.  Somehow you remember at the beginning of your journey, people placed large rocks, almost boulders in your bag.  You carried them believing everyone else carried them, too.  While it was hard, you pressed on.  People said, "you'll be alright, you have a long journey to climb".  So you climbed and climbed.  No one understood you, they passed you.  People laughed and mocked you for being behind.  They ran ahead, not knowing you had so much more weight to carry.  Now here you are half way up the mountain.  People want to see you move, but they don't realize that you are tired and weighed down.  Then a caring motherly figure opens your bag.  She sees the boulders covered by your sack and instantly she knows why now you've been so tired.  You struggle to hang on or trust that anyone else can carry your weight, so you just press on".

I was taking a shower inside my new shower curtain in my new house.  As I plan for my wedding to the man of my dreams.  I mentally start to look in my pack.  What felt like a full sack is really just pebbles.  It's funny that I could mistake the difference in weight, size, or shape compared to my kiddos.  Tonight, I have a home I can pay for, groceries to eat, a wedding to plan, a honeymoon to look forward to, health, transportation, family, love, support.  I should be running up the mountain carefree and giddy.  Who cares about the few pebbles rolling around making noise?

The sun is about to rise.  I've been waiting to see it for what seems like forever.  I know the hope it brings for a moment that a new beginning is coming.  I am just so thankful I am going to have the strength to make it to the top.  I am just so thankful that when I was sent on this journey I was privileged with a fairly light pack, shoes to walk in and people to encourage my walk.  Please let me be reminded the pebbles are just pebbles compared to the mountains that many climb.  Keep me humble and real.  Remind me just how much you've blessed me.

Resting in His Arms

Every time I go to an amusement park or day long activity one of the cutest things I love to see are all the small children passed out about 2pm.  Their heads are either hung down in their stroller or rolling off their parents shoulders.  They seem lifeless and worn out so much so that all of the noise and excitement is unheard and unseen as they peacefully rest and regain strength for more.  It's like the entire morning of sights, sounds, and senses has overwhelmed them to the point they are just worn out.  There is no waking a toddler in one of these states as they normally just reposition themselves and return to sleep.  I wondered if adulthood ever had those sensory overload times where sleep just came no matter how crazy things are.  I think, I have found that place. 

For the last nine months or so, I've moved, started two jobs, planned a wedding, quit a stressful job, built two full client loads, prepared for licensure, volunteered, led groups, worked out multiple times a week, attempted to diet, spent time with family and friends, had budgets fail, had two or three incidences requiring the car go in the shop, bought a house, etc etc etc.  I've lived in my current location since June and tomorrow I move again.  I was just thinking, it feels like I just got here and here I go again.  I am just ready to settle down and take a long nap.  While the day to day is manageable, when I get a few moments to just sit, I realize the toll of all of this change.  While I am pleased with how it's all turning out and I feel blessed, it doesn't make the transition any less tiring.  In a way, I just need someone to carry me or roll me in a stroller for a brief moment.  After days of caring for others, I need a little pampering.  After months of constant change, I am ready for a routine.  After unpredictability and trauma, I am ready for a time of respite and recharging.  However, I am not so sure that season will happen anytime in the near future. 

I've noticed with most of my clients that when life is in motion, its like a rolling snowball.  Life tends to pick up more and more in these seasons rather than mellow out based on my energy level.  And while I am good at forcing myself to go to bed early and relax, I feel this insatiable desire to just fall away for a bit a recharge.  The thought of combining three residences into one makes me overwhelmed and more tired.   I am planning out my caffeine intake and charting out where I can rest. 

I suppose it's time like these that I have to stop leaning on my own strength.  Part of being dependant on God is allowing him to provide when we don't know where to get it from.  The other day my tire hit a monster pot hole.  Instantly the tire was flat and the rim was damaged.  It looked awful and as I rode in the tow truck I thought, "God, please just give me a financial break, I really don't have this".  What was initially estimated to be at least $300 turned out to be a small $123.  God provided a way for me to make it out of that bad situation with what I could handle.  I suppose the stroller or the parent at the theme park is my Father who knows I just need to rest and catch up and then I will be back in the excitement.  I may need to ask others for help in the months to come.  I may need to forgive myself for not always making my goals.  I may just have to rest and realize with all this excitement, it's likely I would feel worn out.   I think I just have to realize we weren't meant to see and do it all.  Sometimes we have to miss out so we can do more later.  Sometimes we just have to give ourselves permission to lay down peacefully and ignore the excitement for our own sanity.  I know while this is a struggle for me because I hate to miss out, I feel that growing urge to just "lie down in green pastures", so it's probably time I listen.  It's 2 o'clock in my life so I guess it's just time to take a cat nap....

Ants in My Pants

All the kids I work with are constantly moving and wiggling around.  This week I asked a kid if he had ants in his pants, and he actually looked not knowing what the phrase meant.  While I thought this was strange, I realized and related to their energy today as I realized since breakfast I've hopped from one activity to the next without taking a breath.  With only two weeks until closing on the new house and less than 100 days to the wedding, I know I, too,  officially have ants in my pants... the metaphorical kind at least.

There is something about waiting and anticipating that I am just not very good at.  Even with a slow ketchup bottle I usually will resort to jamming a knife in the bottle if it's not moving fast enough.  I like fast food, drive thru's, banking online, rapid release Tylenol, and already baked rolls.... why?  Because I hate waiting.

When I was five I had an Easy Bake Oven.  I loved it, but I am not sure I ever ate anything that was ever cooked more than 50% of the time.  I would be so excited once I shoved it in the oven that I was anxiously sit outside of the the oven watching it rise.  I would check on it about every five seconds, pulling it out thinking "ugh hurry up little cake" and eventually after about 30 times of pulling it out and poking it, I would just give in a eat it raw.  My treats never looked like bake goods, they looked like warm soup with crispy edges.  I am not sure if the Easy Bake Oven even really worked because I could never even wait for one thing to finish and I was on to the next.  Even as an adult, I prematurely pull out cookies and brownies only to find out the insides just are not ready.  I like instant gratification, and so in times where I can't make time go faster I find myself fluttering around like a little butterfly unable to find a place to land.

Today for example, my fiancé naps while I frantically pack, do laundry, dust, and let out my roommate's dog through out the day.  He is worn out after an hour or two, and I just feel the need to keep cleaning, packing and organizing.  I have mental pictures of how the move might go and where I want to put things.  I just am so excited I can't hold it in.  I make him drive to the house at least once a week to "check on it" as if anything has actually changed...  I realized these ants in my pants are keeping me from enjoying the journey.  That discomfort with not being where I want to be when I want to be keep me anxious, moving, and always thinking about the future rather than the present.

Some of these feelings are normal, but each minute of our day is a gift.  I just had to stop and slow down and be thankful today.  Thankful for the amazing sun warming up the piles of ice, thankful for having food in the pantry and money in the bank, thankful for being healthy, thankful for a big God who has given me so much, thankful for a home and an ability to move into a new home.  There are so many reasons to "stop and smell the roses", but I just want to run through the garden instead trying to see what's behind every next corner.  So, I guess I will stop for now.  I might just sit down for a minute and enjoy a few quiet moments before everything is moving and changing again.  Time to take off those antsy pants and just relax in my jammies....

Motherly Instincts

Since I started working in the schools, I feel like a little motherly instinct has gone from relatively average to full-blown mother duck.  So many of my kids that I work with are often times bounced from house to house with mulitple caregivers.  Some of my children are at school from 7am for before school care and stay until 6pm for after school care.  Some of them tell me they don't have breakfast, and if they do, they eat cheetos or chips.  Some have no bed time, no clean clothes, or no consistancy for much of anything. Day after day I am put into awe when a teacher tells me another story of their students life.  I say, "wow" and "that's horrible" quite a bit. 

Even though both my parents worked full time when I was growing up, I feel like they poured a lot into me.  Even now into my adulthood I find myself thinking of the "norms" my parents taught me: you need to have cereal or a breakfast food in the morning not junk, take a bath daily, brush your teeth, put on clean underwear, you can't go without a coat if it's under 50 degrees, you cannot wear shorts until it's 65 degrees, you need to show us your homework before bed, you need to go to bed at a decent hour, you don't hit people, etc etc etc.  The kids at my school seem to have their own culture, the culture of poverty with messages saying: every man for themselves, if they hit you then hit them back, no one tells you what do to except your momma.  Or maybe the messages that aren't said are the ones that are more influential like "I love you" and "you mean the world to me" or "you can do this if you try hard".

I find myself patting more kids on the back or head, asking "how was your day?" and praising the smallest things.  When they hug me I feel all warm and not annoyed they are slowing down my progress.  I find myself making sure they were doing ok in class and asking if they got their work done.  I point out untied shoes or the teen wearing flip flops in the middle of winter.  I find myself turning my job into a ministry of compassion, care and love.  And the clients continue to pour in....This unconscious awareness to teach, protect, provide and love is growing immensely.  People who make it out of these situations in life usually say, "there was one person who believed in me and told me I was worth something".  I want to be that one person that these kids feel really cares about them because they deserve to feel worthwhile.  They deserve to feel like someone cares when they come home.  I know my family was not perfect but I never felt like my parents just did not care whether I was ok or not.  I never felt like my parents were so into their agenda that if I was hurting they still wouldn't care.  I always knew they would provide, protect, and support me.  Seeing where I am today, I just know that those little motherly moments of love, support, teachiing and correction were what made me someone who is able to love in return today.  If only those who were so blessed could realize what a need there is to love others. 

Never has my favorite quote from Mother Teresa felt so true in my life:  There is hunger for ordinary bread, and there is hunger for love, for kindness, for thoughtfulness, and this is the great poverty...

We can give kids new clothes and school supplies in August in cute little back packs, we can send food to their food pantries, and pay our taxes for their health care, but if we never take the time to love them, support them, encourage them, then they will never have the hope to change themselves.  I pray motherly instincts kick in for more people who are privaledged to love those who need it most...  Just some thoughts from the day...

Frozen Simplicity...

As we are bracing ourselves for what could be a blizzard or an ice storm which could potentially either take us out of work for a week or just another day, I am struck at how relaxed I am and how lucky I feel.  I feel like maybe this mini-retreat of bracing for the possibility of winter camping is meant to be a time to take advantage of simplicity and rest.

I started to picture what it would be like if winter camping actually took place.  I was cruising the empty aisles at Wal-Mart which happened to be empty.  I kept thinking, all we need is light, food, and warmth.  All of the sudden, I realized how much extra crap is available at Wal-mart.  Tiny things that consume my time, wallet, and desire no longer felt necessary.   Normally, when I go to Wal-mart I tell myself, within good reason, go pick out groceries for the month and have fun picking out whatever you WANT.  Today I was thinking, what do I actually NEED if I no longer have heat, water, power, etc.

I grabbed two candles, wondering, what if the heat really does go out?  What will I do for warmth?  Then I remembered the mountain of clothing, socks, shoes, hats, and gloves I have.  Did I mention all of the blankets I have?  Yeah, I guess my fetish for quality blankets could possibly pay off.  I thought what if we can't cook?  Then I realized I had the money to buy crackers, bread, and canned goods.   I probably spent an hour in Wal-Mart thinking, "what do we really NEED?"  So often, I more so think about what little frills do I want.  I buy little frozen foods, cute things for my office, an occasional shirt or accessory, but today, when I was thinking of what I would need if I was down to the basics I was very humbled. 

I realized then, "what about all my kids that I work with?"  So many of the families I work with have very little.  While I was able to drop about $80 today on groceries, gas, and car stuff, I realized some of my families living in poverty that I work with won't necessarily have the ability to go out and buy the last $20 flashlight.  They won't have a bunch of extra clothes to wear when it gets cold.  They couldn't probably afford to buy extra ice scrapers for their cars when theirs break.  Some are going to really have a hard time if this power does go out for two weeks.  In all honesty, I know if the power went out even for two weeks, we have what we need to survive here.  It may be uncomfortable and different because there will be more work, but I will survive.  I think the biggest shock for people like me is that I am so used to having things easy.  I don't really worry about being cold, hungry, or without very often.  For my families, it's another hill to climb.  Maybe that's why the grocery lines are long for those suburban families... we just aren't used to struggling anymore.  The idea that everything is so easy for me, really made me appreciate all of the blessings I have and made me want to figure out how I can continue to stay humbled in the future with the reality that I am probably one of the 3% of the world's population who needs to be reminded about NEEDS and WANTS.  All that from a day off of work and a trip to Wal-mart......

Well, whether it's a couple hours without power, two weeks, or just a false alarm, this day God revealed a lot to me.  1. Humility and a desire to humble myself continually to live a simple and real life.  2. Respect for my families that I work with and their endurance to struggle silently.  3.  Hope that maybe if there is a loss of power, many more people will be reminded of the immense blessing God has given us.  4.  A clear head to take whatever comes with a smile and purpose to find joy even in the simplest things. 

Breathe Deeply...

For the last three weeks, I have been hard at work trying to prove to myself that I was really supposed to be a therapist.  I had a few things confirm this today.  And if anything, I was just able to breathe a little deeper as more weight fell off my shoulders.  My grief about my last job fell away today.  It's the continued journey up the mountain that's causing me to reflect and look at myself in positive ways again.

First of all, I have loved my new job in the school.  The kids are... AMAZING!  They stop by (even the ones I don't work with) to say "hi Ms. Kerrie".  Some ask to see my dinosaurs or cars.  Some ask what a therapist does.  Some want me to know that they will be seeing me because "they have lots of problems to talk about", and some just want to be friendly little people on the look out for love.  A few of the first grade neighbors come by daily (or multiple times a day) to just say hi.  They awkwardly wait at the door, one even knocked today, just to see if I would acknowledge them.  I always turn and say hello followed quickly by "where are you supposed to be?"  Which normally leads to more awkward excuses or them turning and walking back to class.  Occasionally one bravely wanders into my office and attempts to get a lot at my shelf of objects not long before their teacher returns to coax them back into the classroom.  By the age of seven these children have witnessed more than I think I did by high school.  They know all about guns, domestic violence, drugs, rap songs, fighting, slang, and cuss words.  They punch when they are angry, they scream bloody murder, but when they get to my door, they have HUGE smiles, puppy dog lips, and batting eye lashes.  Why?  Because I have toys, and LOTS of them in my office.  Therapy is supposed to be fun, right...

Some of my reminders were more somber.  An old client's parent called at their wits end.  They called me before the new therapist and said I was second to their own parent when they thought, "Who can help me?"  I have not seen this women for over a month and a half.  And I suppose I was surprised when her number popped up on my caller id when I was driving home.  I have nothing to offer but empathy.  I can't change her situation, I can't even make a call to help her, but she still thought of me.  I always second guess my ability to have an impact on families.  I always figure a month after I go people just move on.  Maybe to the next therapist, to a friend, or family member.  But to know I was still a primary support felt pretty amazing in a way.  Maybe after all that time, I did do something...

And finally, after hours of computer problems this week I called my supervisor's supervisor in desperation as after two hours this week I have not been able to register for my pay stub (DAMN PAPERLESS SYSTEMS!!!).  She was sort of unaware of what I had been doing in my schools as I just started last week.  I haven't had much feed back and so after I got my questions answered she asked, "have you had an in-take yet?".  "Oh yes, I have had more than one".  "Two or three," she said.  "Actually, I have had 6 and took on the one open case so that's seven".  "WOW!" she said, "you're doing amazing".  ..... me... I did .... amazing?  Tell me more... just kidding...  I just smiled and said, "well, I'll keep trying my best".  I don't know how the next few weeks will go.  I just needed affirmation.  I told a co-worker that just hours before today.  Probably because I would never just openly seek that from someone, I had to be suckered in by not being able to do everything myself.  In some ways I had felt bad I called at 7pm, and in other ways, I was so glad I did.  Again, I breathed in deeply and was renewed with energy, strength, and encouragement.  It's so good to feel that again.

Maybe I am just lucky or something, but God gave me signs in three's today.  I get little miracles that remind me, "you are here for a purpose".  It feels like fate sometimes.  I wonder why I had to be dragged through the mud first, but I am started to care less and less about that.  I am starting to feel better and better about my abilities.  I am reminded of my spiritual gifts.  I just feel like God is looking down on me.  Saying, "it is good".  It is good that I love these people so much, and for that he loves on me.  I didn't always feel that love where I was before, but now I see it and appreciate it more than I think I could have if I would have just got this job right out of school.  I don't think I could have seen past the endless computer errors and network connections.  I would have been insecure about starting two new programs, about calling half of the school in a couple days, and worried that I wouldn't know how to help.  Today, I felt like the warm sun shined upon my back and I felt one of those "God moments" where maybe just maybe I have a real purpose in this world....

The Ministry of the Mundane

At my favorite girl's breakfast with fellow social workers and ministry leaders, we were discussing the over-arching sadness of working with children in poverty and abuse situations.  We all agreed there is a sense of sadness, and a sense of powerlessness in trying to make a difference.  We talked about the guilt which comes from leaving those families and parts of town to our comfortable lives in the suburbs.  A new house, nice clothes, a working car, food whenever I am hungry, clean water, soap, heat in the winter and air in the summer, cable tv, access to a computer, etc. etc. are all things most people reading this blog take for granted on a daily basis; however, my clients can be without some, most or all of these things at any given time.  Being at my elementary school the first day, I realized this will probably be the case for me just as much as it was in my other job.  And just as I was returning home, a little depressed about my work and inability to change the world completely, I began to read more from "The Life You've Always Wanted".  John Ortberg discussed in order to have a life of meaning we should be engaging in "the ministry of the mundane".

"Jesus took a little child in his arms and said, in effect, "Here's your ministry.  Give yourselves to those who can bring you no status or clout.  Just help people.  You need this little child.  You need to help this little child, not just for her sake, but more for your sake.  For if you don't your whole life will be thrown away on an idiotic contest to see who is the greatest.  But if you serve her- often and well and cheerfully and out of the limelight- then the day may come when you do it without thinking,  "What a wonderful thing I have done".  Then you will begin serving naturally, effortlessly, for the joy of it.  Then you will being to understand how life in the kingdom works".  This might be called "the ministry of the mundane". 


I am learning far more from my kids than I think they learn from me.  While I teach them to use coping skills, they teach me how God designed us to be loved, to feel safe, and what brokenness does to one's sense of stability in the world.  They teach me compassion, empathy, and passion at levels larger than I've ever known.  And even just from a short time of working with these children, I feel myself loving more deeply.  I have worked with kids raped, molested, beaten starved, and neglected, by the people who are supposed to love and protect them most.  I've worked with kids who have never had anyone look out for them or love on them, but no matter how thick of a wall they put up, deep down they are still looking for love.  They still always seem to reach out...

And then I am reminded of just how lucky I am.  God has given me so much; not so I can be embarrassed or feel guilty, but to challenge me to use my gifts (financial, professional, spiritual, etc) to be a light.  I think the key for me will be learning to not be sucked into despair.  This world is broken, but there is hope in Christ.  God has lifted me from my valley's, and He can for each and everyone of these kids.  I want to be reminded daily of the kingdom.  I want to fight the darkness, not run from it.  I was people in that community to know, I will not just give up or get tired.  I will not be moved by their behaviors.  I will not be afraid.  Although my parents sheltered me from so much of this brokenness so I would have a good life, it's through their provision that I have the strength to continue to love despite most people's fear of these kids.  

I realize like in Matthew 9:37 I am one of the few people who find a sense of passion for this work that comes from God.  And the amazing part is that God continues to reveal to me "the harvest" that will fully be revealed some day.  "Then he said to his disciples, "The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few."  I wish more people knew what they were missing.  Being with these children is life giving, life changing despite how challenging and energy consuming it can be...

What a very powerful but humble job.... a minister of the mundane...  a minister of light, hope and love.  (I wonder how that would look on my resume)....

A Million Pieces

My mom and I once got a 5000 piece puzzle of .... I think it was flowers but maybe a landscape scene.  We attempted to put it together in the dinning room (which was only used for crazy and long-term projects).  My mother, who was always teaching me some useful skill, taught me the "art" of puzzling.  Yes, I said, "art".  "Find the corners, then the edges, then put colors that match together".  For an 8 year old, this seemed like the most unfeasible of tasks.  I remember bending so far down to look at the pieces that I felt like the Hunch Back of Notre Dame.  I worked on that puzzle for hours, days, what seemed like months but was probably just a couple weeks.  I felt frustrated at times and ecstatic at others.  There were moments I swore I lost a piece, and moments I figured we would never finish.  My mom, amidst cooking dinners and cleaning, would pop in with a word of encouragement.  She always managed to take the pile of matching colors and quickly assemble them into larger units.  Bit by bit and day by day, we some how finished that puzzle.  I remember trying to figure out why people enjoy these types of games...

Lately, life has felt like my days are spent trying to master the mega-puzzle.  There are so many pieces and ideas that are needed to be put in order or to be put it together.  My family has their suggestions about how I can be most effective, but there are just moments when I am overwhelmed of all of those millions of pieces that need to come together.  In any given day, I am trying to plan some aspect of a wedding, learn a multifaceted computer billing and medical notation system, work with clients, start two schools programs up, work out, shower, clean my room, do some laundry, keep my car clean, eat healthy.... you get the picture.  My to do list, which now just has to get redone every couple of days, just seems like all of those pieces still left on the side of the table with no place to go.

I am not sure why but sometimes I feel like I set myself up to try and take on the world.  With determination, I often stare at all there is to do and try to figure out the best course of action ("corners, edges, then group").  The corners seem to be: work, Chris, family, and finances.  The edges: faith, friends, working out, diet, wedding.  The groups: keeping things clean, moving, packing, setting up my office, laundry, and everything else.  And while a puzzle's pieces remain fixed once you figure them out, my life is like a puzzle that is in constant threat of falling apart.

The million pieces will soon be but a memory as I will some how master this system at work, I will get married, we will move, and my life will have a sense of normalcy once again.  Until then, I realize I have to figure out a way to give myself permission to put the puzzle up at the end of the day and just relax.  Tonight my mother said, "Rome wasn't built in a day"... my response, "well, it should have been".  Sometimes I wish I could snap my fingers and everything would be where it should be.  Picture Mary Poppins teaching Jane and Michael to snap their fingers and toys go back on the shelves....  However, I know there is something to be said about the process, the journey, the race... whatever you call it.  This puzzle making process of understanding life and living... it is suppose to be that frustrating but exhilarating experience like the puzzle.  I guess today is just one of those moments where my neck hurts, my eyes are tired, and I need to go off and do something else.

“Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy and glory of the climb." -- Winston Churchill

Closing the Door

Finally, my W2 arrived from my old job  (they are early, I know...), but I have been anxiously awaiting this envelop for two reasons.  1. Because I didn't make enough in 2010 to be past the federal poverty line so I actually get all my money back :) and 2: It's the last that I have to deal with my old job, so I get to close the door to that chapter of my life.

Ironically, tomorrow is the first day I am out of training at my new job and going to one of my new schools.  I am nervous: butterflies and all.  I haven't been to high school since I was in high school.  So much has changed with teens since I was there.  There is texting, sexting, and i-poding.  It's normal to dye your hair, pierce your face, get a boob job and have babies before you can drive a car.  I'M OLD!  But yet, it feels like I was just there not that long ago. (At least I know how to blog... that's gotta be sorta hip, isn't it??)  When I was in high school, I thought therapy was for weirdo's with issues (and clearly I wasn't one of those), so I am sure this generation will be tickled pink to hear I will be at their school two days a week.  I got out folders about drug use, pamphlets about teen pregnancy, fun family work books about building self esteem.  OMG!  I am excited!

I met some neat people at my training today.  A woman who works for the company who was a CTS grad (24 years ago) who said it's the best agency to work for in the state.  I also met a therapist I worked with on another case and got a long awaited smile that one of my kiddo's was ok.  And over all, a good sense about my two placements for work continues to roll in through all kinds of experiences and comments from others.  I think I can really handle this.  I can quite honestly say, I really enjoy going to work.  I haven't said that since practicum.  I am so happy the road led down this way.  I am so glad I sense the sun is going to rise.  I think something amazing is going to come out of this.

So tomorrow is my new beginning.  New clients, new office space, new procedures, new in-take format, new paperwork, new outfits, and really, a new me.  My passion for therapy (not just doing social work) is returning.  I am so excited for what God has planned for me.  I feel like a kid knee deep in the sand box ready to build something amazing.  I just know this is a good place for me to be.  God keeps putting person after person in at work who just keeps saying the same thing: "This is a good company, a safe company, and a company that supports their employees".  Keep speaking!!

So here is to closing doors and opening new ones... Tomorrow I return as Ms. Byrnes (or Ms. Kerrie, which ever you prefer).  I CAN'T WAIT!

Finally Going Home

Today I started packing.  About 7 months ago, I moved in with one of my best friends knowing that in less than a year I would be married and moving out.  With the closing date a little over a month away, I decided in my free Sunday afternoon, I would pack the first box.  It's amazing how fast the last seven months have gone.  Looking back, even December sometimes feels like a million miles away, but packing that box was a strange sense of deja vue and I realized I could remember all those times I packed up to move to the next place. Like most people my age, moving has become a regular thing over the last dozen years.  My first move was at age 9, again at age 14, again at 18, and so on and so forth.  I've lived in eight different places since high school.  Sometimes for only a few months, sometimes for a few years.  But as I plan this move there is a sense of relief... this home will be my real home... In college, houses were temporary.  The dorms felt like closets with beds, the sorority was busy and always changing.  My parents house, is, well, my parents, and it hasn't felt like my home since I went to college.  I've lived with other family members, friends, at my school, in a mansion, in China.... but I've never once owned my own space.  But in 44 days, I will get the keys to my home.  MY HOME.  For the first few months, I will be occupying the house alone as Chris finishes his lease out at his apartment.  Then it will be our space.  It's like everything we worked for is finally coming together.

There is something a little more exciting about this move.  It is so much bigger than transition, the next step, etc.  This time, my move means I am starting the beginning of my life with my best friend.  I picture that first day when I take our set of keys and put them in the front door.  I will set my bags down, and for the first time, it will be my space.  I will control the air temperature, when the dishes and laundry are done, where to place the furniture, how the grass is mowed, what color flowers to plant, etc etc etc.  And while I know a huge amount of responsibility is going to come with owning such a big house, there is this secret spot in me that is absolutely giddy.

When I was about 5, I started collecting Little Tikes doll houses.  First, I got the blue roofed family house complete with the furniture, a van, a family, and working closet under the stairs.  The kitchen had a deck that pulled out and a dangling kitchen light.  The mattresses were made of this yellow foam and I would cover them with colored Kleenex to look like sheets.  For my next birthday, I got the pink roofed grandparent's house. It was a bit smaller (as there were only two residents and the family cat) but it contained more furniture.  Next, I saved up my money for the stable.  It was a mint green roofed barn with horses, fences, and riders.  Combined with all of my other small figurines, I began to create a city of families.  I set them all up under my loft bed and played for hours with the light from a desk lamp.  I think sometimes I got lost in pulling all of the toys out of the buildings and then putting them back in.  I made up stories about life and some how in my own little world I felt this sense of joy and excitement in all of the possibilities these tiny houses had to offer.

I still think about that as I am completing the registries, picking out furniture and appliances, and driving by the house on Salem Drive.  There are so many possibilities, so many choices, and for once, I get to plan it all out (with my future hubby of course).  So much has changed in the last 30 days.  One month ago, I could barely breathe, and now I feel life has become almost magical.  I know it won't always feel this way, so I am trying to enjoy it.  I feel like I am finally going home... to my real home... the one I always dreamed about....

We must be dreaming

For an hour this morning, a new coworker and I started to talk about our horror stories of mental health agencies.  Her story was about 10 years longer and much more depressing.  She worked her way up a ladder of leadership only to find that even at the top, it was still miserable.  It seems that, for the most part, agencies do take advantage of clinicians.  I am not sure if it is like that in all areas of health care, but for mental health in a social service context you are basically taken advantage of (for a cheap rate no less).  We had both been burned in the field and were sitting alone before another day of training.  But this morning we both discussed with one another just how odd it feels to be working for a company who tells you to have good boundaries and to only work until you meet your requirements (which are more than manageable).  As much as I would like to think maybe they are lying, even the seasoned clinicians who have been there have said how satisfied they are with their jobs.  It just feels like I am dreaming...

Could I just happen to be one of 80 lucky clinicians in central Indiana to find this job with the benefits of an agency with the flexibility I desire?  We thought we were both too lucky...

It got me thinking about how people spend so much of their lives at work.  You pour your heart and soul into it, and it almost feels like more of your life than family and other activities sometimes.  I think I truly enjoy having good boundaries at my job.  I feel like I got my life back.  I don't have nightmares anymore where I wake up in panic.  I am falling asleep in a few minutes each night and sleeping soundly.  I feel more energetic and upbeat.  I feel motivated to do more.

It's amazing how what you choose to expose yourself to can have such an impact on your life.  I feel like I have said this in a number of entries, but it just keeps striking me how much we have to take care of ourselves and find where we are really meant to be.  I definitely see myself at Cummins for a long season of life.  I am excited to be around so many uplifting people.  I am excited to already feel apart of a community.  I really feel good about this.  Now, I am ready to close that door that seems to haunt me from my past.  My coworker described it as her own form of trauma that she didn't realize was so bad until she got out.  I think I am realizing the impact of the last six months now that I am experiencing joy, passion and self-confidence (slowly) but once again.  It reminds me of grad school when teachers and supervisors filled my heart with kind words and positive affirmation about my work with clients.  I have come from cloud 9 to the depth of my trenches and now am back in the sun again.  I am ready to move forward into the future.  I would like to stop dwelling on that traumatic past, and look into the road ahead.  I just hope these thoughts stay with me about the importance of taking care of me.  I never want to lose myself again.  Not for anyone, anything, or any job....   It just feels like I must be dreaming...

The Crazy Wedding Dream

Last night while I was trying to get my 8 hours of beauty rest, I had a crazy dream.  So crazy, I remember infinite details about this dream.  The dream was about my wedding day.  And if this isn't a metaphor for my life right now, I am not sure what is...

The dream started the day of the wedding.  We were checking into the hotel rooms and going to get ready.  There were other weddings going on that day.  There were other brides and their parties, and they had it all together.  They looked beautiful and their reception rooms were all in place.  They had the bigger rooms and more elaborate tablescapes.  I was still content with mine, but I began to worry what everyone else would think. But then I realized I needed to find my room.

Or so I thought.  The next portion of the dream I went up and down the elevator trying to find the room with the number on my key.  I went up and down a number of times and got into certain rooms and realized they weren't the right ones.  I don't think I ever found the room to lay my stuff down.

So I decided I would take a shower in someone else's room.  People kept popping in on me and it made me uncomfortable and embarrassed.  I remember saying, "can't you all just leave me alone?"  Then I made my way, still not in my wedding dress, downstairs.  The guys were all ready but their tuxes came in wrong so they were wearing what appeared to be like a Robin Hood-like tights (in Tiffany's Blue) and white shirts that were puffy and airy.  The girls dresses turned yellow with little white flowers on them.  (I think any bride would have flipped out by now)... But in the dream I just kept thinking, "eh oh well, I can't change it".  The girls were getting their hair done and it looked like a peacock, but again I said, "ugh I don't like this, but there is nothing I can do".  I remember the last part of the dream was I was so upset on the inside I just thought, I will go back in and get ready.  It will just have to be ok.  I have to trust it will work out.

Inside the hustle and bustle had died down.  I saw Chris and I ran to him.  (He of course, was already in his tux and looked amazing).  We hugged, and it ended.... I woke up...

I could make the ties for the metaphor for you, but for those that know my life right now, it's pretty spot on to how I feel.  There is all this mess, but when I look back inside myself, I know what really matters is right how it should be.  I think I am pretty lucky that amongst all of this helter skelter there is a handsome, very tall, and supportive man waiting to marry me.  No matter how messy, chaotic and crazy my life is right now (despite all of my neurotic tendencies to want to keep it together).

Fragile Shell

Toward the end of training today, I started to realize just how off I still feel from my last job.  After months of empty threats, broken promises, and no support, I realize just how big of a hit my self-confidence took on a professional and personal level while working in a negative environment for six months.  Today, in day two of training, I could not seem to fully grasp our super intense software program and style of treatment planning.  It was similar to my work at CTS, but it had some changes that were really quite hard for me to get.  The goal was to form objectives in a solution-focused way, but all I could think about were the problems.  Immediately, my body temperature rose.  I felt like I was back in Dr. Miller's theology class when I was caught frogging around on my computer (aka watching family guy on hulu) and without a book: naked and crazily embarrassed.  As my treatment plans were dissected in front of the training group, I felt like that ignorant, newly graduated therapist that I was told I was in my first job.  I immediately felt like maybe I was not cut out for it, again.

And then, I just sort of froze.  What is happening to me?  I used to be so confident and willing to keep fighting to learn.  And then it set in, I felt like a failure before I even started.  I knew I needed to go home and re-center, but the supervisor saw I was struggling, too.  I think it was because I started the day full of life, but by the end I just kept saying, "I just don't get how this relates to that" and then the blank stare.  But then, instead of being belittled or made to feel stupid, she said, "you know, you're really bright, but I think you're way too hard on yourself.  You have got to give your self like 6 months to feel really good about this stuff.  I think once you get to the schools you're going to be amazing".  "WHAT?" I thought... "me hard on myself??" (Funny, I still focused on the problem...)   I started to check for angel wings on her back.  Granted it was the first day of my period so I was already an emotional train wreck, but for once a boss built me up rather than tearing me down and I felt like overwhelmed with joy and understanding and comfort.  She asked why I felt like I needed to know it all in two days... Why... why....

I was going to just say that's just how I am (a little OCD and neurotic), but I realized that my ability to extend grace to myself (which was already a struggle before my last job) completely went down the toilet over the last six months.  Before I might be annoyed, but now I just felt down right defeated.  DAMN positive thinking techniques that I can't seem to get to work for me!!! I wanted to tell her it was just me, but I knew that the truth was I was not someone who feels defeated, I am a fighter (NOT A QUITTER!)

So instead, I told her a brief snip-it of why I came to Cummins after only six months some where else.  After two sentences, she reached out and hugged me and said, "it's a good thing you got out of there, no one deserves to be treated like that".  Again, seriously... angel?  I have been so worried, so scared, and so anxious that this job would be another failure, that I would be made to feel incompetent because maybe I really am.  Instead, she told me that I was incredibly approachable, warm, and easy to talk to.  She made me blush and again, she reached out and to hug me and said, "I think you'll really like it here".  I was thinking... "you think... I already know now".

I realized today my once tough egg is now an extremely fragile shell.  But on the outside, I am still doing well, still functioning.  I think I just have to relearn to trust my ability.  She said it would take like 18 months to heal from my crappy job experience and the lack of support I had.  18 months from now, I will be married over a year, living in a house, almost a licensed clinician, and 27 years of age.  That's a long time to regain confidence.  But I suppose considering all that's occurred, maybe it's not so crazy after all.  It's amazing that so much damage was done in about five months of time.  But the damage doing is done, and now I need to rebuilt the wall.  I have to reconstruct myself with new meanings (going very post-modern after my training).  I need to remember that the negative people I worked with were a couple of 7 million people in the world.  Today however, one person made a difference for me in 10 minutes.  One person can really make a difference, can really bring hope, peace and joy ... in 10 minutes.  That gives me hope that maybe the last six months were not a waste, but maybe just maybe, I made a difference.  Thank God for a new beginning...  I pray that God redeems my work for his glory.  I pray he uses me to be a light.  And maybe through my own journey, I will see true glory in his people, too.  I know today was a little bit of what's to come.  Again I say, I am so blessed.

God will use whatever he wants to display his glory. Heaven and stars. History and nations. People and problems.

Max Lucado

Dancing and Celebration

I hope 2011 is my year of jubilee.  New house, marriage, new job, and  the beginning of a bright life with Mr. Siegl.  It took about 3 hours of live home search for Chris and I to look at one another and agree that 6591 Salem Drive was the one.  This being said, I did not mention that my real estate agent announced she had seen I had logged into her website 368 times in the last 6 months or so....  (so, I like to look at houses).

I didn't know it was THE ONE, but the price kept dropping bit by bit.  An agent had bought the home as an investment and then redid it.  He put it on the market but the market just did not pull people to the house.  I watched it since November thinking it seemed to be a great buy.  An Estridge home is a good builder, but I never thought I would find one we could afford.  I just kept my eyes peeled and we drove around neighborhoods.  In about November, we had a few locations we wanted to live.  When I sealed my new job, I knew just where to look.  We balanced budgets, looked at savings, and then talked to the agent.

It went so fast, and  it's not quite ours yet.  There's an inspection and everything sort of rides on that.  The house was built in 1992, so behind that pretty fresh coat of paint could be any slew of issues.  I will pray that that's not the case.  But after this week, well, I think everything I have ever prayed for and asked God for in my life is coming to pass.

It's January 1, 2011, and in the last 16 days my world has flipped upside down (and spun round and round).  I was trying to figure out when I would get out of frustration and disappointment, but now I feel like it's a day of jubilee.  A "dee-dah day" where you dance and celebrate.  I am now reading, "The Life You Always Wanted" by John Ortberg.  After realizing I was still wonderful from reading "I Am Not Wonder Woman, but God Made Me Wonderful", I decided I need to keep growing closer to God and finding a way to keep staying close to His path for my life.  Ortberg discusses one of our spiritual disciplines should be "celebration".  His daughter used to dance around the living room spontaneously singing "de-dah-de-dah".  He discussed how as Christ followers we have to celebrate the joys and blessing God gives us each day and often time we are only concerned with the negatives.  It's not that I forget that often, but for awhile I don't think I have really been allowing myself to fully celebrate.  When I graduated everyone was so excited, but I was like... "ok what's next?"  I wouldn't call myself an Eeyore, but I guess I was always so worried about crossing the next bridge, I don't just normally stop to celebrate.

2011: My year of dancing, celebration, de-dah-ing, and being thankful for the blessings.  I am SO SO SO SO SO SO blessed.  I have my dream life (with a few interesting twists along the way).  Every day should be a dee-dah day as far as I am concerned.  Maybe just for a season, but in this season, I think I should celebrate.  Good health, love, support, friendship, hope, grace, faith, and so much more.  God said to me in church today....   

"If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you." (John 15:7)..  

My response is best said by Paul Baloche in the song lyrics:

You have been so good to me
You have been so good to me
I came here broken, you made me whole
You have been so good
You have been so good
You have been so good to me

You have been so good to me
You have been so good to me
I came here morning,
You gave me joy
You have been so good
You have been so good
You have been so good to me

How can I thank you
There is just no way
How can I thank you
No way how could I to pay
For your kindness
For your tenderness
For your custom presence here with me

You have been so good to me
You have been so good to me
I came here broken, you made me whole
You have been so good
You have been so good
You have been so good to me

Lord How can I thank you
There is just no way
How can I thank you
No way how could I to pay
For your kindness
For your tenderness
For your custom presence here with me

You have been so good to me
You have been so good to me
I came here broken, you made me whole
You have been so good
You have been so good
You have been so good to me