One thing that has surprised me most about working part-time at my private office versus full time is that I still have so much work to do. I still have about 10 pounds of baby weight I'm trying to lose, still have over flowing trash cans, 6 loads of laundry, dishes, claims to file, progress notes to write, etc etc etc. Every Monday, I title my day, reclaim your life day. Baby is usually wiped from the weekend and sleeps in and takes longer naps. So we usually stay at home and play catch up. Yes, I will admit, I have had a couple afternoon naps, a couple for lunches out with friends, many walks, and have seen Dr Phil most days, but other than that, I am on the go from wake until sleep.
After a weekend away, the work load is usually twice a big. Despite coming home in the middle of the night Saturday and cleaning and mowing for hours yesterday, I still feel buried. I got this little reminder on facebook though, that being a good parents starts with taking care of yourself. Having time where I re-center with the Lord and realize the bigger picture. So here I am as little one is still sleeping in (she stayed up until 11pm).
Surely, this time with my coffee and blog is my time. I won't usually get many quiet moments where the dog is sleeping in the yard and the baby is silent and not in danger of hurting herself. This is like my moments at work in the morning when I would sit with my coffee, check my email, and just breath in the moments before a long work day. While there is always going to be work to get done, I have to remember that each day, I have to reclaim control of the anxiety that comes with being overwhelmed and remember the bigger picture.
I have to remind myself that God provides, God restores, God heals, God hears prayers, God listens, God is present, God knows my heart, and God has a purpose for my life.
It will be any time now that feeding, cuddling, playing, and trying to do all of the rest of the stuff begins. I could have started working on it in the last few minutes, but then would I remember what's really important? Whose really in control? I need to get better at having these moments... better of taking care of myself as a whole.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Life Review
When I was in high school, I hung out with guys more than girls, I wore sweat pants almost daily, and my make up consisted of eye liner, mascara and bronzer. I played soccer, worked a few nanny jobs, apparently borderlined on bullying the guys I hung out with, and clearly had no connection to what girls were into. I realized last night that up until college, when I joined Phi Mu, that I had no idea how to dress, how to "chit chat", and how to present myself. I have come a long way! I realized what a gift being a sorority woman was. I think I never realized how insecure I was in high school. I never felt like I fit in with the "cool girls", who now I realize are just women like me... married, some with kids, with professions who take care of themselves. None of us are better than the other. Some had husbands there, and some were still single. My husband and I had a blast. He was taking shots with random people and chatting up with other people. I was mingling from person to person. In each conversation, I realized I am so blessed to have him. He is my best friend... best guy friend.. and maybe I don't have a "best girl friend" because I never really got "girl dynamics". Despite living in Phi Mu and learning the essentials of my gender role expectations in a professional world, I am still far from excited to deal with drama and catty back stabbing girl stuff. I always felt like a nerd because even within my pledge class, I just wanted to be friends with everyone. When drama got deep, I found myself backing away. I am direct about my feelings and often find girls back away from me because I "hurt their feelings" or "am just too honest". I don't dance around issues and I would rather tell you to your face than tell everyone in our circle. I didn't realize that about myself until I found myself being known as one who always did hang out with the guys more. At Purdue, I found just as much joy hanging with my frat boy friends as I did my sorority sisters. Maybe, I haven't changed a ton, maybe I just never really realized that part of who I am is just not that "girly girl" I sometimes want to be in my mind.
I also found that the joy of my life is here at home. I loved beeming with pride over baby girl. I loved sharing about our marriage and the joy we had with our unexpected miracle. I realized dreams like traveling to Ireland and around the globe that are still on my heart. But overall, I realized I am most proud that I am working a job that I love... So many people said their jobs were horrible or not what they were passionate about. I realized that while I am "part time" at my private practice, I was confidently explaining my life and my business in a way that exerting comfort and confidence. I didn't realize how happy and goal accomplished my life was.
I am so far from that girl, that I think I got energized by who I've become. I don't see popular or not popular anymore. I don't see cheerleader or smart kid anymore. I don't see jock or theater kid. I just see people. Our life stories have helped and hindered our journeys. We all are looking for basic things: love, purpose, acceptance, and peace. We all crave to be "who were were born to be". I am glad I went to the reunion. I want people to realize I am not who I was. I am a constantly growing and changing person. I think we all changed. We all grew up. We all are on our own journeys for the sun to rise. I think it was good to stop a third of the way up the mountain and see where I came from. I feel bad about how I took out my bad feelings on others. I feel bad I was so insecure. I feel bad I did not love myself enough to just hang out with people and be comfortable in my own skin. But I think we can all say that to some extent. I guess that's just part of life, learning to accept who you are but always pushing to be more of who you want to be.
In ten more years, I'll probably have another kid or two (I hope). I hope my business is still going strong. I hope my marriage is still as joyful as it is today. I bet more people will find a career they enjoy, a partner to share life with, and I am sure some will experience heartache and pain. But I look forward to going back some day. I want to be more self-aware and realize, I am not who I was but I can always get closer to who I want to be. By our 20 year reunion, I want to be more physically fit and self-disciplined. I want to be better at loving my husband. I want to be a better friend. I want to continue to become better at loving other people well.
So here I am... at my life review. So far, I'd say were are doing well. Guess I can take on today and tomorrow with a sense of pride that I didn't become defeated by who I thought I was... I kept pushing and trying to be who God saw me as. It's made a huge difference. I am just grateful for relationships, all of them throughout my life. They make things real, shape your soul, and help you move forward on the journey.
Friday, September 6, 2013
Home
I'm back in my yoga pants today. The staples of my maternity leave from the 8am feeding watching the TODAY show to my blog time during nap time, is allowing me to come back to center. The back door is open bringing in fresh air and sunshine. I'm in the office with a snoring husky and baby is down for a nap. The house just got picked up and I have my "to do" list for the recovery after working two jobs for the last month. I've got progress notes, claims to bill, laundry, vacuuming, etc etc but I am just pausing and breathing for a moment today. I did clean out the pantry (probably my most soothing OCD activity), and I cleaned some dishes, but today I just wanted to breathe. Those deep cleansing yoga breaths that remind you to "re-center". I used to think they were lame, but something about inhaling deeply unlike my anxious and stressed out short breaths, makes my body feel taller, leaner, more like the me I want to be. Being at home is my recovery from stress. Being home is where I feel I am meant to be after weeks of being slammed into the world.
Something about being home, no matter the stress level, helps me to recenter. I call our neighborhood "my retreat" because as soon as you enter back into the woods, you just feel like you're headed away to a resort in the forest. I love being home... the sun, the big tree out front, my super awesome neighbors, the people I love, and the things that make up me. I could do nothing all day here for days and days and I just feel more and more comfortable. I know life isn't about just being comfortable, but I think there are moments in our life when we need a sanctuary. We need a place to get back right with ourselves, the Lord, and our priorities. Sometime I feel like I need to hit my own psychological reset button and get whole again.
The last month has been hard. I've been short, snappy, tired, irritable, and probably a bad friend and wife. I never will know why I thought I could work two jobs that are both very emotionally taxing. I will never know why I thought I'd be able to survive being away from baby 10, 11, 12, sometimes 13 hours a day. Was I a nut case? I guess I should have believed in myself that my private practice could actually be successful once the RIDICULOUS paneling and contracting process with insurance was completed. The past 30 days I have reverted and regressed to an old self that I thought I had left behind. I've let my good eating habits go back to old habits... maybe not 100% but I can feel the difference in my belly flubber. I got behind on paperwork, housework, and baby care. It's all a mountain that built while I was away from home 12 hours a day. But I'm home. I can regain control. Reorganize life...
Today is the beginning of the rest of my life. A life where I am my boss. I finally can "work hard/play hard" according to my schedule. I can be a night owl and work past 10 pm, I can slam it into three days or stretch it out to six. I can work, not work, play or rest. I can be my sassy often interpreted as "abrasive self" because the only person I am managing and taking direction from is me. I have always been "marching to the beat of my own drum" said my first grade teacher. I am a determined woman on the hunt and mission to control my own destiny. And now, I am in control. My sanity is returning. I am energized again. I am home...
Something about being home, no matter the stress level, helps me to recenter. I call our neighborhood "my retreat" because as soon as you enter back into the woods, you just feel like you're headed away to a resort in the forest. I love being home... the sun, the big tree out front, my super awesome neighbors, the people I love, and the things that make up me. I could do nothing all day here for days and days and I just feel more and more comfortable. I know life isn't about just being comfortable, but I think there are moments in our life when we need a sanctuary. We need a place to get back right with ourselves, the Lord, and our priorities. Sometime I feel like I need to hit my own psychological reset button and get whole again.
The last month has been hard. I've been short, snappy, tired, irritable, and probably a bad friend and wife. I never will know why I thought I could work two jobs that are both very emotionally taxing. I will never know why I thought I'd be able to survive being away from baby 10, 11, 12, sometimes 13 hours a day. Was I a nut case? I guess I should have believed in myself that my private practice could actually be successful once the RIDICULOUS paneling and contracting process with insurance was completed. The past 30 days I have reverted and regressed to an old self that I thought I had left behind. I've let my good eating habits go back to old habits... maybe not 100% but I can feel the difference in my belly flubber. I got behind on paperwork, housework, and baby care. It's all a mountain that built while I was away from home 12 hours a day. But I'm home. I can regain control. Reorganize life...
Today is the beginning of the rest of my life. A life where I am my boss. I finally can "work hard/play hard" according to my schedule. I can be a night owl and work past 10 pm, I can slam it into three days or stretch it out to six. I can work, not work, play or rest. I can be my sassy often interpreted as "abrasive self" because the only person I am managing and taking direction from is me. I have always been "marching to the beat of my own drum" said my first grade teacher. I am a determined woman on the hunt and mission to control my own destiny. And now, I am in control. My sanity is returning. I am energized again. I am home...
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Mixed Emotions as I move Forward...
I am sitting in my office at the school for the very last time. Little first graders and kindergartners are outside sitting in a line after a trip to the bathroom. They have "hallway hugs and a bubbles", but are giggling and asking tiny people questions. Every day when I am doing paperwork, I leave my door cracked just a little bit. I love their little people conversations, tiny smiles, and curiosity. I moved my toys out about two weeks ago, and I've missed the gasps of excitement as kids used to peer in and see the doll house and a few other toys on the shelves. Kids love to play, and thus, they love play therapy.
I am sad because in a way this was my dream job. I love being in a good school, with good staff, and good kids. I love being apart of the learning process. I love being part of this team. I love so many things about being here. I loved shopping for back to school decor and hitting up the dollar tree for motivational prizes. I would say, I am "shopping for MY kids". They some how became like my little club of secret people... some with trauma, some with bad homes, some in foster care, and some who had lost loved ones. They were my little land of misfit toys... They sometimes had poor social skills or cried multiple times a day. But in my room, we played. We talked. I learned so much about their little people lives. And they learned about themselves.
It's hard to be a therapist. You learn about all the special moments in peoples lives but you can't share those stories with anyone else. Your a secret keeper and a story holder. You share emotional intimacy with people in a way that most never know. You build a bond with your clients. You know their families, know their life story, and know why they do what they do. It's a privilege but a lonely island to work on.
I've been on teams with some amazing other people. People who for decades serve day after day a population in survival. We get cussed out, stood up, put down, and denied. We cry with people, laugh with people, and sit with people in the darkest moments of grief.
I am sitting in a room of memories. Play therapy moments of "ah ha" bliss and moments of pain. This cinder cell block cubby in the middle of the primary hallway for one year has been my home, and before that another cubby in another place was my special home for a year and a half. I love my work. I love play therapy and family therapy. I love the clinician I have become...
Nothing in life is ever simple black and white. I've had many gray moments. Moments where I've thought about turning back and renigging on my resignation. But I truly feel like I was born to run this private office. I feel energized by my work there. I love being able to do play therapy and not be worried about if insurance will cover it. I love not worrying about "production" or completing the long list of assessments due for the kids. I won't miss the "drama and politics" of community mental health. I won't miss an hour plus of commuting to work... but I will miss this place... I will miss these little people... I will miss being on this team.
Today is a day of mixed emotions. I wish it was a sigh of relief and I could sneak out at the end of the day and simply be content that it's over. But I'll be honest, I am full of mixed emotions. I know I did some good work here, and I wish I had the chance to do more good work. I wish it was easier to be everything professionally and still be a good mom. I wish I could work 13 hour days with endless energy and still have time to be with the baby. But my little person won't be little very long and I want to be a mom to her instead of being a "make up mom" for these little people at school. I am selffish that way, that I don't want to share her with a stranger and daycare. I want her "first" stories. I want to read, know her favorites, and be with her snuggling at nap time. I want long walks to the park and trips to target. I don't want to be a weekend warrior mom who tries to do everything fun in 48 hours of "free time". I want her to know that she is my world and I will do anything for her. I want her to see you can reach your goals (before you turn 30 if you want to). I want to have my dream of being a successful business owner. I want to have the ability to provide good clinical care. I want all these things so much.... ugh...
Today is a messy, unsettled, sad goodbyes kind of day. I am realizing I can't do it all. Having a baby has made me realize I can't work 12 hours a day anymore 5 days a week with some Saturday morning sessions just for fun. I have to find balance. And thus I feel like in a way I am saying goodbye to my "old self". The self who "did it all" and "took it all upon myself to be the best". I am putting her on a shelf for a bit. I am going home to my little person. She'll only be little a little while, and until she gets on that school bus herself and says, "bye mom, have a good day", then I will just work on being mom and a "part-time" therapist. I will work on being part time therapist, full time momma. I know I won't regret spending more time with her, but I will miss this place, this corner of the world, this portion on my life. Bye bye little people, bye bye team... It's been an adventure, a blessing, a journey... another morning has come.. The sun is rising, and I have to keep moving forward.
I am sad because in a way this was my dream job. I love being in a good school, with good staff, and good kids. I love being apart of the learning process. I love being part of this team. I love so many things about being here. I loved shopping for back to school decor and hitting up the dollar tree for motivational prizes. I would say, I am "shopping for MY kids". They some how became like my little club of secret people... some with trauma, some with bad homes, some in foster care, and some who had lost loved ones. They were my little land of misfit toys... They sometimes had poor social skills or cried multiple times a day. But in my room, we played. We talked. I learned so much about their little people lives. And they learned about themselves.
It's hard to be a therapist. You learn about all the special moments in peoples lives but you can't share those stories with anyone else. Your a secret keeper and a story holder. You share emotional intimacy with people in a way that most never know. You build a bond with your clients. You know their families, know their life story, and know why they do what they do. It's a privilege but a lonely island to work on.
I've been on teams with some amazing other people. People who for decades serve day after day a population in survival. We get cussed out, stood up, put down, and denied. We cry with people, laugh with people, and sit with people in the darkest moments of grief.
I am sitting in a room of memories. Play therapy moments of "ah ha" bliss and moments of pain. This cinder cell block cubby in the middle of the primary hallway for one year has been my home, and before that another cubby in another place was my special home for a year and a half. I love my work. I love play therapy and family therapy. I love the clinician I have become...
Nothing in life is ever simple black and white. I've had many gray moments. Moments where I've thought about turning back and renigging on my resignation. But I truly feel like I was born to run this private office. I feel energized by my work there. I love being able to do play therapy and not be worried about if insurance will cover it. I love not worrying about "production" or completing the long list of assessments due for the kids. I won't miss the "drama and politics" of community mental health. I won't miss an hour plus of commuting to work... but I will miss this place... I will miss these little people... I will miss being on this team.
Today is a day of mixed emotions. I wish it was a sigh of relief and I could sneak out at the end of the day and simply be content that it's over. But I'll be honest, I am full of mixed emotions. I know I did some good work here, and I wish I had the chance to do more good work. I wish it was easier to be everything professionally and still be a good mom. I wish I could work 13 hour days with endless energy and still have time to be with the baby. But my little person won't be little very long and I want to be a mom to her instead of being a "make up mom" for these little people at school. I am selffish that way, that I don't want to share her with a stranger and daycare. I want her "first" stories. I want to read, know her favorites, and be with her snuggling at nap time. I want long walks to the park and trips to target. I don't want to be a weekend warrior mom who tries to do everything fun in 48 hours of "free time". I want her to know that she is my world and I will do anything for her. I want her to see you can reach your goals (before you turn 30 if you want to). I want to have my dream of being a successful business owner. I want to have the ability to provide good clinical care. I want all these things so much.... ugh...
Today is a messy, unsettled, sad goodbyes kind of day. I am realizing I can't do it all. Having a baby has made me realize I can't work 12 hours a day anymore 5 days a week with some Saturday morning sessions just for fun. I have to find balance. And thus I feel like in a way I am saying goodbye to my "old self". The self who "did it all" and "took it all upon myself to be the best". I am putting her on a shelf for a bit. I am going home to my little person. She'll only be little a little while, and until she gets on that school bus herself and says, "bye mom, have a good day", then I will just work on being mom and a "part-time" therapist. I will work on being part time therapist, full time momma. I know I won't regret spending more time with her, but I will miss this place, this corner of the world, this portion on my life. Bye bye little people, bye bye team... It's been an adventure, a blessing, a journey... another morning has come.. The sun is rising, and I have to keep moving forward.
Monday, August 19, 2013
Continual Need for Affirmation
I am one of those kinds of people who needs to be encouraged a lot. I like to encourage others and build them up, but probably because I need it. Throughout this process of leaving my job and becoming self-employed my anxiety levels have gone through the roof. I am a constant run away train of "what if thoughts" if I let myself go to that place. If I keep myself busy, I find I am less emotional on the outside, but continue to hold a pile of anxiety on the inside. I am craving order right now. From my sock drawer, office, and baby stuff, I am finding while I am manipulating my physical world, my emotional world feels just a little bit safer. In other words, I am a hot mess some days. I am managing the other days and sometimes I even feel validated and encouraged that I am doing the right things.
Throughout the last month, I feel like so many things have happened to show me I am headed in the right direction, but yet, I come back down this bunny trail of doubt time and time again. "Can we pay this bill?" "How will we pay for extras?" and "What if it all falls apart?" When I go to that place, I am as good as gone. My stomach in knots, headaches, backaches, and nausea. It's not good. And I would say, I am in that place far more often than I ever have been in my life.
Throughout the last month, I feel like so many things have happened to show me I am headed in the right direction, but yet, I come back down this bunny trail of doubt time and time again. "Can we pay this bill?" "How will we pay for extras?" and "What if it all falls apart?" When I go to that place, I am as good as gone. My stomach in knots, headaches, backaches, and nausea. It's not good. And I would say, I am in that place far more often than I ever have been in my life.
I found this post on facebook and I said, "THAT'S ME!!" I realize far many more people have had a baby, quit their job, and made a plan to make it work. Far many more people were in worst situations. Far many more people had no family to support them, no spouse to depend on, and no church to love them. Far many more people didn't have another business lined up. Far many more people are far more brave than I am. Far many more people survived, triumphed, and were successful. So what do I really need?
Other than 10k to pay off student loans and 11 windows across the back of our house, I need to be reaffirmed by the Lord on a regular basis that His plan is my plan. I need to be re-affirmed that the stress is temporary. I need to be reminded that I am doing this for a child who could easily go somewhere for daycare but will benefit from a mother who can be physically and emotionally present at the end of the day. I am doing this for me... All those years of studying, clinical hours, supervision, low pay in community mental health, I am doing this for my dreams and goals. I am doing this to be a model for my child that nothing is out of reach if you believe in yourself. So... why do I struggle so much with this concept?
I am not the kid leaping off the diving board with blind courage. I am the whimpy one feeling shoved off the edge. Ugh, there's no turning back... I could just get off, turn around and walk away, but now there's a line of kids waiting for me to take my turn. "Just Go" "just do it" "It's awesome". It doesn't feel awesome....
2.5 weeks left of working at my job and then its me... on my own... in my private practice. Taking the plunge off the diving board. Never in my life have the stakes been so high, but the pay out so big. Never in my life have I truly trusted myself to take care of myself and my family. Never in my life have I even truly worried about money. It's just money... Ugh the tug of war in my mind.
I am at the edge... about to jump... I've made the decision and there is no going back. I just need more encouragement. I just need to know I won't drown and it won't hurt too bad. Ready to start plugging my nose...
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
We Were Made to Conquer Giants
If God has shown me anything in the last year, it's that He created us to do good works... to show His good works in the world. There are broken people and broken lives in every corner of the globe. While poverty has its own set of injustice and brokenness, the brokenness that I see in private practice is also brokenness. We are all lost, all broken, all in need, and lately, I feel like God's been using me to be like David, conquering giants I never thought possible with nothing but a sling and a few pebbles.
Since college and surrendering (after 7 changes in my major) to the idea that I was being called to be a therapist, a pastoral care, a counselor, and a beacon of hope for the marginalized, I have had moments of victory that I often draw from in the darker moments. Today, our marketing specialist said, "so at what point in your life did you know you were doing the right thing?" I, being the extrovert to the extreme, with a warning of caution that I will babble and ramble on, explain that well, there were many moments. Maybe I am just hyper-attuned to the way God has used me, but I can recall dozens of times in the last decade of my life that God was leading me to care for people emotionally. It probably started after I was sexually assaulted in high school and went to therapy. A level headed therapist named Bev helped me process the trauma, or at least start to process what it means to be a "victim" at the beginning of my formation of self. I remember sitting in my office and reading my journal to her. I had a long entry about the experience and I looked up to tears in her eyes. Composed, she reflected how she could feel what I was writing so much so that it was hard not contain her tears. I thought to myself that I might some day enjoy a job where I could just sit with people and let them feel and I could feel with them, too. I think in that therapy, I learned so much about how much power I have over my life. I have the power to be happy, sad, to be a victim or a victor. I could see my life as a series of "glass half empty moments" or I could gain the strength to see where I was blessed. A few months later, I accepted Christ into my life, and I've never looked back.
College was such a pinnacle time of growth from me that continued to set the pace for how God allowed my own brokenness to then grow me, use me, and conquer giants in my life. Whether it be the need for love and acceptance, the need to escape, the need to trust myself, the need to find out who I am, God had moment after moment where He molded the messy lump of clay into a distinguishable figure, far from perfect but none-the-less a tool for his usage. I remember days of binge drinking which lead to days of brokenness. Days of family arguments that clouded my heart about who I felt like by. I remember friends back stabbing, and friends that I stopped caring for. I think of the joys of sorority life and to sorrow of recommiting my life to Christ but then becoming the "weird girl who didn't party anymore". I remember late night conversations with my sisters (in the sorority) where I had the courage to pray for them, and they received Jesus in their heart. I remember those tear filled moments where sisterhood was my backbone, my everything. I remember falling in love. I remember my heart breaking. I remember my life, a series of broken moments and joys that all lead to my heart wanting to go to seminary and becoming a therapist. I was so blessed to have such a rich experience. I grew into myself more and more...
Here I stand looking back on my journey, and God has helped me overcome infertility, fear of intimacy, and lack of self-confidence and forced me to see that I can love, I can create and I can succeed (with his help). I realize that while I am still a sloppy, messy ball of clay, I have started to take shape into something God uses for his glory. I keep finding my prayers to say, Use my brokenness to give hope to women with endometriosis who struggle with fertility issues. Use me for that tired graduate student who has bouts of doubt that their ever get their license. Use me as that self-conscious woman with a business goal to be a business owner. Use me as that mother who just wants to do the right thing for her child. Use me God to continue to conquer the giants that I fear and the giants that I never thought I could face...
In a matter of days, I will be living the life I always wanted (with the paperwork I forgot to factor in). I am blown away. I am amazed. I don't know how, why me, or when the blessings will turn to a wave of brokenness again, but for now, I stay in a place of awe and surrender. I am staring down the giants of my mind that I didn't think I'd overcome. I know it was not by my strength. I know it was His hand, but some how I feel strength. It confirms to me that God is here, God is real, and God is so very present in every prayer I pray.
Each day that goes by, it's a speedy little blur. This life we have is so short. The baby grows literally before my eyes like she created million more cells on her body each day. I am overwhelmed by my love for her, overwhelmed by this cheering section of friends from near and far that have been there along the way. I am constantly looking vertically, God, you are so BIG, so awesome, and so good to me. You have conquered all my fears and continued to show me that you love me despite my constant doubt. It's not all simple and 90% of this is all out of my control, but Lord, you have made me feel so safe these past few months despite being the most scared I've ever been.
I have a hard time understanding how people can deny God. I've been at the bottom of my rope, not wanting to live, and God spoke and poured into my life. I sought him, and since that He is constantly persueing me to have faith in him and take a leap. I don't know how it happens most the time, like a dream, I just work hard and he provides. I just listen and he answers. Like that ask, seek, knock verse. I have learned the art of surrender and some how I've found victory. I just feel it, like somehow I was made to conquer giants...
College was such a pinnacle time of growth from me that continued to set the pace for how God allowed my own brokenness to then grow me, use me, and conquer giants in my life. Whether it be the need for love and acceptance, the need to escape, the need to trust myself, the need to find out who I am, God had moment after moment where He molded the messy lump of clay into a distinguishable figure, far from perfect but none-the-less a tool for his usage. I remember days of binge drinking which lead to days of brokenness. Days of family arguments that clouded my heart about who I felt like by. I remember friends back stabbing, and friends that I stopped caring for. I think of the joys of sorority life and to sorrow of recommiting my life to Christ but then becoming the "weird girl who didn't party anymore". I remember late night conversations with my sisters (in the sorority) where I had the courage to pray for them, and they received Jesus in their heart. I remember those tear filled moments where sisterhood was my backbone, my everything. I remember falling in love. I remember my heart breaking. I remember my life, a series of broken moments and joys that all lead to my heart wanting to go to seminary and becoming a therapist. I was so blessed to have such a rich experience. I grew into myself more and more...
Here I stand looking back on my journey, and God has helped me overcome infertility, fear of intimacy, and lack of self-confidence and forced me to see that I can love, I can create and I can succeed (with his help). I realize that while I am still a sloppy, messy ball of clay, I have started to take shape into something God uses for his glory. I keep finding my prayers to say, Use my brokenness to give hope to women with endometriosis who struggle with fertility issues. Use me for that tired graduate student who has bouts of doubt that their ever get their license. Use me as that self-conscious woman with a business goal to be a business owner. Use me as that mother who just wants to do the right thing for her child. Use me God to continue to conquer the giants that I fear and the giants that I never thought I could face...
In a matter of days, I will be living the life I always wanted (with the paperwork I forgot to factor in). I am blown away. I am amazed. I don't know how, why me, or when the blessings will turn to a wave of brokenness again, but for now, I stay in a place of awe and surrender. I am staring down the giants of my mind that I didn't think I'd overcome. I know it was not by my strength. I know it was His hand, but some how I feel strength. It confirms to me that God is here, God is real, and God is so very present in every prayer I pray.
Each day that goes by, it's a speedy little blur. This life we have is so short. The baby grows literally before my eyes like she created million more cells on her body each day. I am overwhelmed by my love for her, overwhelmed by this cheering section of friends from near and far that have been there along the way. I am constantly looking vertically, God, you are so BIG, so awesome, and so good to me. You have conquered all my fears and continued to show me that you love me despite my constant doubt. It's not all simple and 90% of this is all out of my control, but Lord, you have made me feel so safe these past few months despite being the most scared I've ever been.
I have a hard time understanding how people can deny God. I've been at the bottom of my rope, not wanting to live, and God spoke and poured into my life. I sought him, and since that He is constantly persueing me to have faith in him and take a leap. I don't know how it happens most the time, like a dream, I just work hard and he provides. I just listen and he answers. Like that ask, seek, knock verse. I have learned the art of surrender and some how I've found victory. I just feel it, like somehow I was made to conquer giants...
Monday, August 5, 2013
If You Want to Walk on Water, You Have to Get out of the Boat...
I am not a risk taker. I have a planned budget. I course out my trips on GPS instead of just driving I order the "safe thing" on the menu at the sushi place. I fill up my tank of gas at half full. I have an annual physical with all the tests, and two teeth cleanings and exam. I follow doctor's orders. I follow all the rules. I am a "by the book" kind of learner. I often find myself in awe of the few friends I have who on whim of emotion quit their job, traveled the world, fell in love, and took risks to find love in the strangest of situations. I am scared. Scared of failure, loss, and not being independent. I am scared of drowning.
I am all these things by nature, but I was caught by the title of a book about 10 years ago, "If you want to walk on water, you have to get out of the boat" by John Ortberg
The book referred to the story of Jesus on the sea of Galilee and his disciples were in a boat. They were on the boat at night (something I am also slightly terrified of) and they fall asleep. A storm rolls in. It's a big one. The boat is crashing back and forth, back and forth. They see what looks to be a ghost. Peter, one of the disciples, hears Jesus calling him to come out to him. All the others are afraid and yell for him to return. Peter steps out, takes a few steps, and realizes he is away from the boat. In fear, he cries out for Jesus. He is too far from the boat but he is sinking. Jesus grabs him, saves him, calms the sea, and everyone is in awe. The book goes on to talk about and process how true leadership depends on God, not our own ability, to survive the storms. It discusses taking changes with faith in God.
First of all, I am not Peter. I would have never left my secure fishing job to be a "follower" of a man in a tunic who wore sandals and healed people. I am not the kind of person who "follows their gut" or "just trusts their heart". If God would not have personally shown himself to me in my life countless times, I would still be skeptical of him. Second of all, if for some strange reason I had been on that boat, I would be the one farthest from the edge, shivering, and screaming at Peter to get back in. I would be worried about my own survival and that would include needing to feel like I had the safest path available.
Today, was my first day back to work. I was nervous all morning with a stomach ache. I felt like I was stuck and settling for a job I don't enjoy simply to pay my bills. Recently, I had a few major changes at my practice which was encouraging me to believe in myself more and more. The numbers are almost at my goals for myself, but not quite there. So while I had contemplated with transitioning to private practice, the fear of not having that solid paycheck scared the crap out of me. While I was on my break, I saw things with a clear head. I was always anxious about returning but I kept pushing myself to do what was safe. In the process, I started to realize all the things I had been boggled down with before I left, and I soon felt suffocated as I returned to all of those old things and a few new things at my old job. By the time the day was over today, an overwhelming weight filled my head and heart. Here I was leaving an environment I liked, doing a job I hate. Not because I hate therapy, but because I hate a system of health care that has become from clients who have no ownership in their treatment and the government that regulates that system of care.
The storm was brewing in my heart all the way home. Restless, I started to feel like the disciples on the boat. Alone, on the sea, in the dark, in the storm, but then, I think about my options...
A few months ago in church our pastor did a sermon about Peter walking on water. He talked about anxiety and our "unbelief" and our anxiety with God. Even Peter who was brave enough to step out was overcome by fear and had to be rescued. I started to think about how I could not stand to be in this position, but I also was so scared about doing anything else because of the money that I was paralyzed. I find myself in fear not just over my own lack of ability, but over God's ability to rescue me when I fall.
For the last two years, I have worked with my partner to create a pretty awesome private practice. We have contracts with insurance, we have an awesome play therapy room, and we have deep clinical conversations and staff cases. Each of those cases get the attention they deserve and I feel good about the work being done because I know I provide quality care to people who are invested in their treatment. I feel happy after sessions, not weighed down. I feel engaged. I feel pushed. I am self-motivated. The momentum has built and now I have a small caseload of people who want to grow and heal. I love what I do there. But in my head I know just how many cases I need to match my other income. I know I am not there yet.
So here I am tonight. And I realize, I can't do this. I can't work two jobs. I am in the storm of my life and I can't do it. The safe bet would be to leave my private practice, keep the consistent job, but leave my dreams. That's safe. But then I got this idea. What if, what if, I quit my day job and just streamlined all this energy into my practice?
As I typed my resignation letter, I prayed, "God, carry me. Help me". Trembling hands on the keyboard... like Peter's feet as they left the side of the boat. "Please God, if this is your will make it Thine... "
A few short hours later, my bosses boss calls to talk me back to the boat of safety. Part time? Anything? What should I do? My faith waivers. I start to fear being successful again. Start to think about being safe in numbers but not in emotion. I shake, I sink, I remember, "it's ok to say I'll think about it".
So here I am, a few steps from the boat. Unlike Peter, I can still turn back. I can still go back to safety. God probably wouldn't blame me, but I think I might always wonder, "what if I just took a chance on myself". The only thing weighing me down is money. The only one who I should really turn to is the Lord. I bet Peter never said to himself, "Gosh, why didn't I just stay in the boat... walking on water and sinking and yelling for God was so stressful that I just wish I had stayed safe". I bet he was on his cross dying thinking, "remember that time God where you carried me? Here I am again, carry me home". I want to have a faith that even in the face of death I know I will be ok. I know He will carry me in the water when I start to sink. I want to realize that it's not by my ability that I succeed but it's by God's grace that I am carried in those moments when only he can support me.
I am still trembling. I am so scared. Scared I'll drown, fall, fail, or lose it all. But I also feel like God's calling me to come to him on the water. He has shown his promises to me before and never failed. He has provided so much more than I ever dreamed... love, job, marriage, home, license and the biggest miracle of all, my baby. So how can I doubt? How can I fear? But how do I walk?
Everyone I talked to tonight is cheering on the boat. They know this is my dream. They see me far more highly than I see myself. I've never taken a chance. I've never just jumped. What if this time I did? What if I didn't look back or look down, but what if I just look forward? What if for once, I looked at God with trust, faith, hope, and love and said, "here I come"? What if Peter got on the water, ran to Jesus and then embraced?
I anticipate I'll be like Peter. I plan to continue my resignation in the weeks to come. I am sure there will be moments in the months to come where I want to jump back in the boat but I am too far out. My only hope will have to be in the Lord and I know before I sink, he'll catch me. I don't know what lies ahead but I know I have to try. For once, something screams go out to him. Trust. Some how being a mother has made me be a risk taker if it means a better life for my child. I can't be safe and be happy. I can't keep breaking down just to pay the bills. I have to take a risk and try a new way. So here I am... on the edge.... no turning back... I can't.... I have to keep walking forward.
I am all these things by nature, but I was caught by the title of a book about 10 years ago, "If you want to walk on water, you have to get out of the boat" by John Ortberg
First of all, I am not Peter. I would have never left my secure fishing job to be a "follower" of a man in a tunic who wore sandals and healed people. I am not the kind of person who "follows their gut" or "just trusts their heart". If God would not have personally shown himself to me in my life countless times, I would still be skeptical of him. Second of all, if for some strange reason I had been on that boat, I would be the one farthest from the edge, shivering, and screaming at Peter to get back in. I would be worried about my own survival and that would include needing to feel like I had the safest path available.
Today, was my first day back to work. I was nervous all morning with a stomach ache. I felt like I was stuck and settling for a job I don't enjoy simply to pay my bills. Recently, I had a few major changes at my practice which was encouraging me to believe in myself more and more. The numbers are almost at my goals for myself, but not quite there. So while I had contemplated with transitioning to private practice, the fear of not having that solid paycheck scared the crap out of me. While I was on my break, I saw things with a clear head. I was always anxious about returning but I kept pushing myself to do what was safe. In the process, I started to realize all the things I had been boggled down with before I left, and I soon felt suffocated as I returned to all of those old things and a few new things at my old job. By the time the day was over today, an overwhelming weight filled my head and heart. Here I was leaving an environment I liked, doing a job I hate. Not because I hate therapy, but because I hate a system of health care that has become from clients who have no ownership in their treatment and the government that regulates that system of care.
The storm was brewing in my heart all the way home. Restless, I started to feel like the disciples on the boat. Alone, on the sea, in the dark, in the storm, but then, I think about my options...
A few months ago in church our pastor did a sermon about Peter walking on water. He talked about anxiety and our "unbelief" and our anxiety with God. Even Peter who was brave enough to step out was overcome by fear and had to be rescued. I started to think about how I could not stand to be in this position, but I also was so scared about doing anything else because of the money that I was paralyzed. I find myself in fear not just over my own lack of ability, but over God's ability to rescue me when I fall.
For the last two years, I have worked with my partner to create a pretty awesome private practice. We have contracts with insurance, we have an awesome play therapy room, and we have deep clinical conversations and staff cases. Each of those cases get the attention they deserve and I feel good about the work being done because I know I provide quality care to people who are invested in their treatment. I feel happy after sessions, not weighed down. I feel engaged. I feel pushed. I am self-motivated. The momentum has built and now I have a small caseload of people who want to grow and heal. I love what I do there. But in my head I know just how many cases I need to match my other income. I know I am not there yet.
So here I am tonight. And I realize, I can't do this. I can't work two jobs. I am in the storm of my life and I can't do it. The safe bet would be to leave my private practice, keep the consistent job, but leave my dreams. That's safe. But then I got this idea. What if, what if, I quit my day job and just streamlined all this energy into my practice?
What if, I stepped out of the boat, out of my comfort zone, and tried to walk on water?
As I typed my resignation letter, I prayed, "God, carry me. Help me". Trembling hands on the keyboard... like Peter's feet as they left the side of the boat. "Please God, if this is your will make it Thine... "
A few short hours later, my bosses boss calls to talk me back to the boat of safety. Part time? Anything? What should I do? My faith waivers. I start to fear being successful again. Start to think about being safe in numbers but not in emotion. I shake, I sink, I remember, "it's ok to say I'll think about it".
So here I am, a few steps from the boat. Unlike Peter, I can still turn back. I can still go back to safety. God probably wouldn't blame me, but I think I might always wonder, "what if I just took a chance on myself". The only thing weighing me down is money. The only one who I should really turn to is the Lord. I bet Peter never said to himself, "Gosh, why didn't I just stay in the boat... walking on water and sinking and yelling for God was so stressful that I just wish I had stayed safe". I bet he was on his cross dying thinking, "remember that time God where you carried me? Here I am again, carry me home". I want to have a faith that even in the face of death I know I will be ok. I know He will carry me in the water when I start to sink. I want to realize that it's not by my ability that I succeed but it's by God's grace that I am carried in those moments when only he can support me.
I am still trembling. I am so scared. Scared I'll drown, fall, fail, or lose it all. But I also feel like God's calling me to come to him on the water. He has shown his promises to me before and never failed. He has provided so much more than I ever dreamed... love, job, marriage, home, license and the biggest miracle of all, my baby. So how can I doubt? How can I fear? But how do I walk?
Everyone I talked to tonight is cheering on the boat. They know this is my dream. They see me far more highly than I see myself. I've never taken a chance. I've never just jumped. What if this time I did? What if I didn't look back or look down, but what if I just look forward? What if for once, I looked at God with trust, faith, hope, and love and said, "here I come"? What if Peter got on the water, ran to Jesus and then embraced?
I anticipate I'll be like Peter. I plan to continue my resignation in the weeks to come. I am sure there will be moments in the months to come where I want to jump back in the boat but I am too far out. My only hope will have to be in the Lord and I know before I sink, he'll catch me. I don't know what lies ahead but I know I have to try. For once, something screams go out to him. Trust. Some how being a mother has made me be a risk taker if it means a better life for my child. I can't be safe and be happy. I can't keep breaking down just to pay the bills. I have to take a risk and try a new way. So here I am... on the edge.... no turning back... I can't.... I have to keep walking forward.
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