Love You

My friend Patty Kirk said this

in her book The Easy Burden of Pleasing God

"Look at the unhappiest people you now

and you are sure to notice some crucial 

lack or loss of love at the root of it all.

Childhood abandonment or rejection.

The loss--through death or debilitating illness or adultery--of someone beloved.

An overwhelming sense of being unlovable.

A self image so damaged as to prevent one from loving even oneself."

As a counselor I think this is on point.

I see the struggle to love ourselves everyday--

and not just at work.

I see the struggle in myself all day long.

I see myself push others who want to love me away

because I don't feel lovable.

I wake up everyday and easily find something wrong--

with my body, with my work performance, with my identity as a wife.

Even after years of working on insecurity and negative self-talk,

I still find it there every time I let down my guard.
I don't love myself.

Feeling unlovable makes me want to hide,
to pretend to be better than I am.
To shy away from community, new friends.
To distance myself from my husband, physically and emotionally.
I feel more and more alone this way,
less and less loved.

For me it comes back to seeing myself though God's eyes--

to listening to my husband when he tells me I'm beautiful, and believing him.

to continually fighting against insecurity, pride, and vanity,

to find contentment with my own strengths, instead of comparing them to others.

Love is kind (even to ourselves)

Love does not envy.
Love does not boast.

Conflict

Back in grad school, our teachers brought up a touchy conversation.

"Do you want to be a Christian Counselor,"

they asked,

"Or a counselor who is Christian?"

I know what my pastor would want me to say, 

I know what my 24 years of Christian Education taught me...but

I have a really hard time saying I want to be a Christian Counselor.

I don't want to have all Christian clients.

I don't want to pray together before every session 

or share a devotional together as we end the 50 minutes.

I would rather sit with those who gave up on God,

who question Him and ask hard questions,

who doubt the existence someone who could still love them.

I've also been asked, 

"How do you not share Christ with you clients,

after all, He's the only one who can save them from _____."

Fill in the blank with what you want...

depression,

mental illness,

addiction,

shame and guilt.

But I don't think the regular Christian answers work.

"He's in control"

"Everything happens for a reason"

"He won't give you more than you can handle"

Statements like these make my clients roll their eyes,

and push God even further away.

And this is my inner conflict.

My code of ethics tell me not push my personal beliefs onto others.

My Christian faith tells me to share the Good News.

So, I get up each day and pray for my clients.

I ask God to let others see Him through me.

I ask to be an example of love and grace.

I ask everyday for wisdom and strength.

Most importantly, I ask questions about the fear, doubt, and mistrust

I wonder out loud about their relationship with a Higher Power.

I point out the competing belief in themselves, of their right to an uncomplicated life.

And in these ways, 

maybe I am a Christian Counselor after all.

Awkward

There's something about being a counselor,

that forces me to be myself.

It probably has something to with the fact that

I believe my clients are smart.

I believe they've been through a lot.

I believe they see through facades and smiles.

I believe they will see past my pretending. 

Counseling is an intimate sort of relationship.

I have to be a safe place where clients feel comfortable.

Some of my clients tell the truth for the first time in my office

about their regrets,

about that trauma,

about what they run from.

And safe things aren't false.

So I've been forced to spend the last 3 1/2 years getting to know myself.

And one of the first things I found out was...

I'm really awkward.

I don't like talking on the phone. 

I have this strange embarrassed giggle.

I get nervous when in front of people,

and I don't always have the perfect words to say.

The second thing I found out,

I really do care.

I want the best for my clients.

The more clients I have, and begin to care for,

The easier it is to love the person next to me at Starbucks.

The more I realize we are all struggling with change somehow.

Stories stay with me.

Sometimes the boundaries are hard,

and I just want to be friends,

or take them to church,

or have them over for dinner

 and talk about baking.

So here I am,

Realizing I am an awkward, caring, professional. 

Laying down earlier expectations of perfection.

The more I embrace my person,

the more I begin to love myself, 

and the easier it is to get close to others.

2014

I'm following the lead of my fellow bloggers, 

and made a list of the things I want to remember about 2014.

So much happened in my life, I almost don't know where to start.

I GOT MARRIED.

Christopher and I planned the wedding I always wanted.

We put expectations aside, and had a 15 person wedding under a tree.

Since we were both baristas making minimum wage, 

We spent our savings on a photographer, our favorite cake, and a park shelter.

According to us, it was beautiful and perfect. 

I'm so glad we were forced to focus on what was important--

our vows we were making to God and each other.

I graduated from my Master's Program.

After 2 years of the hardest thing I've ever done, 

I walked across a stage, along with the only other people who will ever understand,

hugged the professors who made me cry, and challenged me to be better.

and received my diploma.

 I got my first "real" job.

I spent all summer sending my resumes to Nashville and Colorado.

We wanted to get out of Kansas, begin a new adventure together.

But God had other plans. 

One day I responded to a job in Lawrence, and had an interview the next week.

 I interviewed for an addictions counselor job the same week I got married.

I found out during my honeymoon I had the job.

I look back and I know God was watching out for us, I had quit my job at Starbucks,

we didn't have a place to live yet, and we were nearing the end of our rope.

We moved to Lawrence, Kansas

It isn't Nashville, and it isn't the mountains,

but it is a sweet community of families and students.

Christopher lived here during college, 

and we are content. 

I realized having these things wasn't going to make me happy.

I made it--I had the husband, the salaried job, the cute apartment to call our own...

but the only thing I felt was stress, anxiety, and unhappiness. 

I had told myself for 2 years that this was it--the finish line.

The place to be. When I got here everything would fall into place for me.

But it wasn't true.

I had formed my own version of idolatry, and had fashioned my own perfect little life to worship.

I forgot that it isn't people, places, or things that make life worth it.

I forgot to thank God for the blessings I have, I forgot to spend each morning giving up control.

So for the past month I've been doing just that.

And I've found the stress, anxiety, and over-all negative spirit fading.

As I remember to see today, the people I'll counsel, the husband I'll love

through God's eyes, it's so much easier. 

I've been rebuilding my faith, and finding myself all over again. 

Beautiful Things

Sometimes I ask my clients to create a "Gratefulness Journal" 

because of the amazing effects thankfulness has

on anxiety, depression, and outlook on life.

I've personally done this in the past, 

and it's amazing all the little things 

we overlook on our roads to self-fulfillment.

As I've been making more time in my life

to write,

to pray,

to listen

I've been finding beautiful things along the way.

Sometimes it has looked like

free coffee,

home-made dinner,

my husband's open arms,

a card in the mail with cash inside,

a new client who is self-aware and motivated,

a blog post that makes me feel understood,

the opportunity to work with women again,

a chance to write my own curriculum.

If I can actually feel thankful,

instead of taking these things for granted

and focusing on the darker side of life,

I begin to feel not only thankful--

but loved, treasured, and known.

Sometimes thankfulness is easier than other times.

My clients who are just beginning the transition into sobriety,
who have lost all the things they held dear,
have a very difficult time finding one thing to call silver lining.

I still spend the time to help them find
just one.

I wrote this in my journal a few months ago,
and I think it explains this difficulty well:

I’m realizing recently that it's here, 

in this teary, let-down, weary, and even lost place, 

where my anxious heart will not cease, 

where I look in the mirror to find an imposter

where my fear overcomes love and joy 

It is here in this glassy, fragile state where I find God.

When I look 

I find God with His arms open, 

His burden light, 

His beauty exposing, 

and His love everlasting.

Thankfulness works because we have to look

 beyond ourselves, our own self-pity, in order to find it.

Me

I'm a person who looks for themes,

statements or stories by different individuals, saying the same thing.

I believe repeats in life are usually God's way of getting our attention

I believe this in the counseling room,

those themes and connections are things I grab onto

bring back around,

ask about.

I try to stay true to this in my own life,

and recently it's been about writing.

I've felt a calling back to this blog,

back to journaling,

back to sharing.

I have friends who are writing books,

learning lessons through old journals,

sharing their life on successful blogs

and I start to feel uncomfortable.

"I'm a writer, too" I say

I look back and wonder where I gave up the dream.

Was it in college when I switched majors,
knowing it would be hard to make it in the writing world?
Was is last year when I panicked in the middle of my graduate program,
wondering I was really cut out to be a counselor?
Or was it when I stopped writing, stopped asking God for inspiration,
stopped letting myself create.

I've returned to writing,
because it is where I feel the most me,
it keeps me centered,  honest,
and most importantly--
it is where I feel the closest to the One who created me.

Wife

There are days I wake up,

and can't believe this is my life.

With the apartment, 

the shared closet,

the bills, furniture still in boxes,

the fights over smelly trash bags,

the 9-5 (ish) workday waiting for me.

I'm married.

& 

I love him.

I love coming home to warm meals & Netflix,

I love the constant cuddles, kisses, and love he gives me.

I love Sunday mornings when we have real conversations about our future.

And there's all the cliches.

It's harder than I imagined,

I don't get to see him 24/7 like I want to.

Working and keeping up a home is...work.

And I get SO stressed out about how imperfect it is.

There are days all I can do is sit in the Starbuck's cafe,

just for a chance 10 second greeting in the middle of rush.

Sometimes he works from 5a-1p, and I work from 12p-8p.

This honestly sucks.

Other days, all I can do is open my Bible,

the devotion I've been reading,

surrender the stress

and hope I can learn something to benefit us both.

Last night I was finally able to vent the frustration I've been feeling at work,

and he gave me some really helpful ideas, because he's a lover.

And then I just started crying long repressed tears.

Why is this so hard?

Sometimes he has to remind me of really obvious things,

like "your job is just that-- a job"

and "if you want to quit and be a writer (my dream job) we would make it work"

and "maybe God has you doing something difficult for a reason"

and "maybe you can't answer the 'why' question because you aren't supposed to"

Here I grew up knowing I would be a wife one day,
 I imagined I would be the comforting one,
the one to support the other through hard things,
and here he is--doing all that and more for me,
at a time when I have nothing left to give back.

Again, I love him.

Happy 2 months and 1 day of marriage, sweet Christopher.

Thanks for dealing with my crazy, stressed, all-over-the-place self
every single day.