Amazing Grace

I started working on my doctorate last year in applied clinical psychology and the interesting thing about my cohort (see Hope Within Collaborative to view our developing site) is that I'm the only one without field experience, or at least I was when the first semester commenced and finished.  Most of the students I collaborate with are already practicing therapists or registered interns, so in a way I felt like the "baby" of the group, though my age assured me I was not the youngest of the bunch.  When I worked on my master's degree, my program didn't require me to do a practicum or internship, so I continued working in a completely unrelated field as an HRIS Analyst throughout my time as a student.  It's not that I didn't want to work in the field I was studying, but the irony of applying for jobs over the years has been that while everyone wants someone with experience, no one was willing to hire me to provide sought experience.  Until recently. A few months ago, I found myself casually applying for non-licensed therapist type positions, not really expecting or looking for a response from any one employer, and as I clicked on the Easter Seals job page, I applied for a couple of positions and then closed my browser.  Had I not received an email from my school within the next hour about an upcoming career workshop hosting none other than Easter Seals, I probably wouldn't have given my previous applications a second thought, but because it was so coincidental that I had just finished applying for positions with them, I began to pray.  "Okay, Lord, what's up? Is this from You? Do You want me to go to that career workshop?" I asked in curiosity.  It was two weeks away at the time and I marked my calendar to attend.  What happened between then and now is nothing short of God's amazing grace.

A New Tradition

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This past Thanksgiving, my family had an awakening of sorts.  The day started as it always does, with me up early in the kitchen working to prepare a special breakfast and ultimately dinner. Shortly after I begin cooking each holiday, my husband and kiddo smell something going on and they join me downstairs where the food is within reach.  We pray, we laugh, and we eat, and then I quickly return to my role as Thanksgiving Chef.  For the last seven years, with the exception of maybe one when we went out of town, I have carried out the traditions of my mother, and probably her mother, and prepared a feast.  It was a job I thought I loved...until I realized I didn't.  Over the last few years, I started noticing a pattern in my behavior each year.  As the morning progressed each Thanksgiving, this most recent one included, I began to get cranky and resentful of being the sole worker on a day that is relaxing for others.  Shortly following these feelings was guilt over not enjoying the sacrificial act of serving others.  "God, help me to love this and enjoy this day, and please forgive my sour attitude," has become a basic prayer over the last couple of years.  It didn't work.  No matter how much I prayed and tried to mold myself into a woman who loves to prepare a festive Thanksgiving feast for her loved ones, it just never happened.  Instead, I made everyone around me feel like they had to walk on pins and needles.  Worse, they were made to feel guilty for not doing more to help, and last year I even got flowers from my husband and son "in appreciation for all you do," as the card read.  I was moved and touched and then felt terrible for having made them feel like they had to reward me somehow for all my hard work.  This year I began to pray differently.  "God, show me why I act this way.  What causes me to behave so badly and how can I change it?"  What God revealed can be summed up in Isaiah 43:19 that says this: "See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?"  I didn't need to be molded into someone different; the need was a new tradition. 

Reckless Abandon

I've heard it said that our greatest stories come out of our darkest hours and from my own life, I know this to be true. Birthed from my hardest times have been my greatest victories, and the internal pit of hell I found myself drowning in back in 2007 marked the re-commencement of my relationship with Jesus Christ. Though I didn't understand what giving my life to Him meant 16 years ago when I initially invited Him into my heart, I grasp it clearly today, and it's rarely an easy walk.  God has gotten involved in my life's most personal and intimate details and shaken things up in such a way that has sometimes hurt, but always, always been worth it.  More recently He has been leading me down a path of both inward and outward exploration as I endeavor to navigate through the daunting task that is my dissertation. In heuristically examining the phenomenon of abandoned faith among former clergy (more posts on this later), I have purposed to immerse myself in the life narratives of those who have gone from serving God in the church to a life of atheism, and the journey already has been challenging.  While one day I'll experience great success in finding answers, other days like today found the enemy a temporary victor over my mind and heart.  As I tearfully talked through some of my struggles with my husband this afternoon, he gently reminded me that God isn't the only One walking alongside me on this path.  Our adversary, the devil, walks nearby as well, and as 1 Peter 5:8 says: "Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour." As I reflected over this, it occurred to me that I had momentarily let down my guard over the last couple of weeks, and unfortunately, the enemy is always watching and waiting for an opening and the door need only be ajar.  In he came and tore at my spirit, but God is faithful and reminded me that the enemy is desperate and fights us harder as our light shines brighter. To this end, I must give God my all in reckless abandon. 

On Becoming Atheist

I volunteered at a youth leadership conference recently and as I wrote my reflection paper for class, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to be swept away in the memories from the day.  Because the students in attendance were in middle and high school, my first reaction was to the surprisingly obvious age difference between us.  I felt old.  Though I'm only approaching 34, being married to someone who's nearing 54 makes it easy to feel like I'm still much more of a kid most of the time, which is why I'm sometimes caught off guard by the reality checks into my actual age.  As I watched this particular young group talk, laugh, and carry on as students their age do, I smiled a reminiscent smile while my mind traveled briefly back through time. For a moment I could almost touch the girl of my yesterday as she slammed her locker door shut and ran to class at a small public high school in Walnut Ridge, Arkansas.  I watched her in my mind as she sat with friends laughing in the student center when suddenly, I was jolted back to the present by paper assessments and pens being shoved into my hand by hungry students racing to the breakfast table.  What stood out most about the day, however, was not my age or theirs, but the unexpected turn of events that led me from a role I had planned for weeks in advance to one I wouldn't have even imagined had it not been sprung on me at the last minute.  As I stood outside in the cold receiving my new instructions, I looked up, and in the corner of the building I saw a tall wooden cross that reminded me that God was with me and for me.  The change in plans was only a small part of a bigger picture to accomplish His purposes, so I was faced with the decision to either move forward and trust Him or stop right there and leave Him. 

Tell Me About You

As I drove to class this past weekend, I talked to my mom on the phone about the girls night she and others were going to be having at my grandmother's (or, "Nana," as I call her).  They were going to have games, food, and lots of fun, an evening truly not to be missed, especially in light of her upcoming 90th birthday.  Also in light of her approaching 90th, my mom wanted to make sure she was up for the action and Nana assured her she was when she vowed "if I get too tired, I'll just go to bed." So, it was settled, but we know all too well the truth that rings forth  from Proverbs 19:21 that says: "Many are the plans in a person's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails.," and Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 that says this: "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die." A man will live only until his appointed time to die, not a day less or more, and no one knew that morning that Nana wouldn't make it to that girls night after all.  Before the day's end, she was rushed to the hospital and never left.  Though her spirit ascended, her sweet, tired body gave out.  Nana's Ecclesiastes 3:2 moment finally came and she died that day.  When I received word from my sister, I sat in class 2,000 miles away, helpless to do anything at all.  So I prayed.  I prayed and fought to stay focused on the lecture, but to no avail.  As I closed my eyes tightly to prevent tears from falling, I could think of nothing besides Nana, and knowing the improbability of being able to fly in for the funeral, I only thought about it all more. The memorial service has come and gone now, but visions of her continue to flood my mind and I've had time to consider what I would say if I saw her today.

Uncomfortably Comfortable

I'm always amazed at how each passing year suddenly becomes the most challenging one yet.  In 2011, for example, I was convinced that my life's lessons on love, forgiveness, and faith couldn't possibly get any harder, but when the calendar pages turned to 2012, I was faced with new emotional hurdles that surpassed every preceding year's trials and tribulations. As I ran along my life's course the last two years, I didn't see certain things coming in either year, yet always knew somewhere in my heart that they eventually would.  Our past has a way of catching up with our present if we don't successfully deal with it at the time, and mine didn't just catch up with me momentarily.  It planted itself right beside my present, masked itself as my future, and generally messed with my head, which created an unprecedented spiritual and emotional turmoil.  Though 2013 has brought equally formidable challenges thus far, they are fortunately in different departments, but the one consistency has been the uncomfortable comfortableness of my own fears, insecurities, and weaknesses.

Show Me the Way

Over the years, I've often teased my 20 year older husband about his taste in music, and one night not long ago when I had to borrow his iPod was no exception.  As I headed out to the fitness room, I playfully poked at what I might hear when I turned it on, never dreaming that what I heard would be the inspiration for what I now write.  As I listened to Styx when they came up in the queue, I found myself not only smiling, but also senselessly singing along - at least until I remembered there were other people in the room.  Most intriguing to me as the words rolled across my tongue was the lyrical parallel to my life as I frequently find myself asking God to show me the way.  I am ever aware of my weaknesses, especially my internal navigation system for the future, which seems to recalculate on every whim.  More than once I've messed things up, gotten ahead of God, and fallen because of it all, but at a time in my walk with Him when I feel strong in my faith and discerning of His voice, I recently found myself feeling dejected over my ceaseless questioning regarding days ahead. It was in this low moment, however, that He gently reminded me that the day I stop asking Him to show me the way is the day I'll actually lose my way.