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.