why have I not been driven to drink?

You know how they say doctors are the worst patients? No? Well, they are. I might add add 'counselors make the worst clients'. We are educated and skilled at seeing through the surface stuff, analyzing and conceptualizing the inner stuff and spitting out fabulous, optimistic and empowering ideas.

But when it comes to doing this for ourselves? Not so much. 

October 2009. As you may or may not know, I lost my job 6 1/2 months ago. Honestly? I didn't belong there. I knew this and so on my way home that same evening {I'm not exaggerating} I said to God, "I know there's a purpose behind all this. I know there's a reason and I'm ready to learn and progress forward. I'm actually excited!"

I filled out unemployment that very evening, searched for other positions available in the area and started making calls within a few days to volunteer while I looked for work. In addition to this, my house got a very thorough Spring cleaning in the Fall, my closets were finally organized to my liking and my husband now had a full-time secretary. Life was good. I was positive. I just knew this was going to be a great journey.

Fast forward to February.

No job. No hopefuls. No license. No. One. Cared. I started getting lost in despair. My life was coming to the end as I knew it. There was simply no hope of ever being the professional counselor I'd once, long ago, dreamed of. Lessons learned? What lessons? SCREW THE LESSONS! I may have a flare for the dramatic. No? 

March. I get my license in the mail. I celebrate. My husband even gets it framed for me. I have an interview for the first time in 2 months. This seems like a dream job. Life is looking up. Enter T-boy. Hopes for the job are dashed. Emotional chaos commences. T-boy takes over my every through and emotion. T-boy leaves. Emotions continue. I have more interviews with agencies that I walked away thinking, "Was that for real? Are they pretending to run a company or am I just crazy?" What about the dream job? Not on the radar at this point as certain things just won't line up. GRR!

April. Is it still April? Oh. I thought it was May. This month is like taking forever. There are times I sit in my house for 3 days straight. I can see depression setting in. Not. Good. At. All.

C and I communicate often. She is a complete inspiration to me and we are very much on the same page when it comes to world view. Of course as my mentor, I've shared all of this with her. Every time I'd email, I'd read back over the email and be completely disgusted with my negativity, but hit send anyway. Of course her responses always line up with what I believe, but I've been a bad client. I can have a good talk and yet my walk is completely non-existent.

But I woke up and now I'm running. 

Want to know what I'm doing? How am I being empowered during such a slump? Why am I acting as if I have everything I want?

Stay tuned... I'll be back tomorrow. Promise.

His Heart

T-boys list of charges is the length of a child's Christmas list. Everything from simple assault to assault with a deadly weapon. To hear the stories, your mind spins with thoughts that his life is over, that there's no hope. He's on probation. For the second time. He's been to juvenile detention. He's been in group homes because he's just "too much to handle". The road seems long and hard and you start to wonder if this child who has acted like a total angel since you got him on Tuesday is fooling us.

Then.

Friday night, after telling him it's time to take a shower, he was walking toward the bathroom and spins around on the hard wood floor, "Do you go to church?" No. We don't. Without going into a long explanation of why not, we did tell him we believe in church and think it's great, it's just not for everyone.

"Well, it's for me. I like it. I learn about God and I think He loves me. Would you take me on Sunday?"

Holding a well full of tears back that had been building since Tuesday, I told him of course, just let us know where he wanted to go and we'd take him. He turned and went to take his shower, I turned and ran to our bedroom. Sobbing on my knees I cried out to God telling Him "I know you see his heart. Everyone sees his behaviors, but You see his heart. Help us see that same heart."

Isn't it the parent's responsibility to see their child's heart? I guess it would be hard if that parent is blinded by their own broken heart. I say that, BTW, with deep empathy, not judgment. If I know anything about God, He's not concerned with our behaviors as much as He is with our heart. He focuses on what our heart is saying and feeling and He touches us there. At least He does me. Our behavioral response will be the natural outflow of our response to Him working on our heart. Until a child is old enough to conceptualize that for themselves, it is the responsibility of the parent to help their children understand what their heart is saying and feeling and work with them to figure out their emotions and therefore teach them how to respond healthily.

I'm deciding not to concern myself with what his rap sheet is saying, those are the behaviors of an obviously brokenhearted little boy. I'm choosing not to look and see how long his road seems to be. It's T-boys heart that I'm starting to see and it's his heart that is giving me hope.