What we Learned At Swim Lessons Today

The boys had swim lessons today. Noah loves swim lessons and took them last year too. Landon begged to get to do it this year, but he wanted to do it WITH his best friend. I informed him before I signed him up that his friend is a really good swimmer and may advance to a higher level class than Landon. But Landon was confident it would work out. Its hard in those situations to know what to say. Becuase you dont want to inhibit your kid's belief in their abilities but you also need them to know the reality of the situation. The balance is difficult to find. So fast forward to today. Noah happily goes off to his class and Landon gets called to level 3 of the older kids WITH two of his friends. The class starts and Landon is keeping up, doing all the exericises but coming in last but only slightly. And then it happens. I hear the head woman say that she is moving one kid down...and she calls Landon out of the pool and sends him down to the shallow (er) end to be with the level 2 class. As he walked he caught my eye and shrugged his shoulders but I could tell from his face and body language that he was mortified and trying to fight back tears of disappointment and inadequacy. Broke my heart.

He proceeded to take part in the level 2 class while his friends swam away in the deep end in the Level 3 class. In level 2, each kid swims the width of the pool one at a time (instead of all together), so he spent most of his time just treading water on the side of the pool, and I could see that all the while, he was treading water in his little heart and mind too. 

When class ended, he came up to me to get a towel and I could see it all in his face: disappointment, inadquacy, insecurity, shame. He wanted a towel immediately so he could cover up his face (he is macho and doesnt like to show emotion to the world anymore). I did what any sane mom would do in that situation and took him to get a donut at the bakery after we left. I tried to tell him that there is a reason for everything. That maybe there is a kid in Level 2 that needs to know Jesus, or that needs a friend. But the Level 2 teacher yelled at Landon about something and it crushed his spirit (which was barely withstanding after being called out and demoted in front of his friends). Somewhere mid-lecture about there being a reason for everything I just stopped, because I realized that as much as we want there to be a reason for everything... sometimes...there isn't one. Or if there is, we never know it. We want to wrap everything up with a neat little bow and package it beautifully, but sometimes in doing that we miss what is really going on. Sometimes things just suck. Watching your 8 year old have his confidence completely crushed in front of his friends...sucked (my mom is going to kill me for saying that word so many times on my blog). I'm pretty sure he will remember today for the rest of his life, and not necessarily in a good way. He didn't really need me reminding him about the reason behind everything at that moment. He needed me to just join him. To understand him. To ACKNOWLEDGE his feelings, instead of deny them. So often I have denied them and tried to redefine them into what I think they should be. As Christians, especially, so often we run from what is really going on and try to deny it as though pretending it were different really makes it different. I am not advocating that we wallow. I am certainly not saying that we should focus on the negative and never look for the silver lining. I guess what I am saying is lets just be real. At some point, lets stop saying what everyone wants to hear and acknowledge what is really going on and how we really feel. Because that stuff is reality. And we can deal with reality. A lot better than we can fakeness. Honesty promotes intimacy. 

Landon's experience today sucked (sorry mom). I didnt use that word with him, but for once...I didn't redefine his feelings. I just sat with him in the reality of what he was feeling. So he wasn't alone. And then together, we will learn to grow from what happened today. Not because we know the reason that it had to happen this way, but becuase he could be honest about feeling insecure and inadequate and thoroughly embarrassed. Now that we acknowledged those real feelings, we can focus on the truth of who Landon is...who he was made to be. And the fact that what happened today doesn't have to define tomorrow. 

I don't have answers anymore for all of the bad that happens to so many people I have come into contact with. I have searched for answers and longed for wisdom. But the truth is...I am not sure we will ever know this side of Heaven. So I am learning to just admit that "it is what it is" and sometimes that means that it sucks (sorry again, Mom). But you dont have to be alone in that feeling. In the grief or inadequacy or failure. Because the truth is that we all are human, so we all fail and have been failed. Yes everything that happens can be used for good. And yes God is in control. But lets stop denying that inspite of those truths...sometimes life HURTS. Lets stop denying that and start being honest...and instead of judging one another, loving one another. 

Hope

I had an awesome opportunity today to speak at the Growing in Grace Conference in Southwestern Michigan. I was among colleagues and friends and while I didn't know most of the 125ish people present there were a few people there that I had crossed paths with at various points in my life. After one of my break out sessions, a woman came up to me and told me that she remembered me when I was a young child and had attended that church. Another woman wanted my contact information in the event that I would be willing to share with her women's group. I ran into "C", and had wonderful, renewing conversations with old colleagues that still feel like home to me. The therapist's at Well of Grace and Southwestern Medical Clinic were the ones that taught me to fly. The ones who inspired me and believed in me and modeled for me how to properly integrate psychology and faith. It was with these people that I first started on this counseling journey. I fell in love with counseling under the leadership of these individuals. 

Today they afforded me an opportunity to stand and speak in two break out sessions. It was a neat day for me. I have loved public speaking since I gave my first student council speach in 10th grade. I have dreamed of writing a book some day, and speaking publically in some form. So today was pretty exciting to feel as though I got to take a step in that direction.

But the highlight of my day? The highlight came at the very beginning. I was in the lobby, greeting and directing people when one of my clients from during my internship (early 2009) walked into the room and caught sight of me. This woman is the one who inspired my post on April 24, 2009 when I first encountered the problem of pain. This client was a game changer for me, for many reasons. She forced me to ask questions and find real answers that up until that point, I had given ridiculously empty answers to. I have ached for this woman, and I remember feeling so very priveleged that she had allowed me to journey with her in her pain and through her story. Back in 2009, I gave her a flat stone with the word HOPE inscribed on it. I told her to carry it with her as a symbol. That she could borrow my hope until she found her own. On my last session with her, I told her that I would see her again one day, and to hang onto that rock until she found her own HOPE. When that happened, she could give me that rock back...and that she didn't need to worry about when or how we would see eachother again. God would work it out.

So back to today. I am in the lobby greeting people and getting ready to go downstairs for my session. When all of a sudden, I see her. And she is smiling (which was a BIG thing). And she is beautiful. She walks up to me and immediately gave me a hug. Before I could even inquire as to how she was, she said she had something for me and hurredly pulled something out of her pocket. It was a clear plastic envelope. Inside of the envelope was the HOPE rock, a small wooden cross, and a bullet. Those three items tell a story. No words were needed. She was giving me something that three years ago, she never thought she would have the strength to hand over or the courage to find or the faith to believe. 

I thought the highlight of my day would be getting the opportunity to fulfill an aspiration. But it was so much better than that. That envelope and its three contents, were by far the highlight of my day...indeed a highlight of my life. Today I spoke about redemption. About God's ability to take our failures and our pain and to redeem it. I spoke about the fact that so often we go through horrible things in this life that we do NOT get to choose. Things that have the potential to destroy us, and if Satan had His way, they would. But while we don't get to choose much of what happens to us...we DO get to choose what we do with it. We serve a God who is in the business of redemption. It is so easy to get burnt out. To feel like there is just so much pain and so little hope. But this woman I saw today...she was in that darkness. She had to borrow HOPE. And she is still a work in progress, like we all are, but you know what? When she handed me that envelope today she was saying, I believe, Kristen. I found a sliver of hope. I am choosing life. And she said it all with her beautiful smile and those three objects...no words were needed. The smile that for so long, was hidden. But God redeemed that too.

I have decided, many months ago, that it is time for me to take a break from counseling for awhile. I put my notice in at the counseling office in December and have slowly been phasing out my clients. I am finally down to just one and am about to close that one out to. I have struggled over this decision. Being a therapist has become part of my identity. It has been a privelege and joy. I have been absolutely humbled by those who have let me in and allowed me to walk with them in their journeys. They have taught me more in the past 4 years than I had learned in all my years previous. But it is time, for now. I can't balance it all. With the addition of Everett, I just can't seem to wear all of the many different hats and to wear them well. I will continue to teach for the time being, but at the end of the day, I don't want regrets when it comes to raising my children. I want to know that job had my all. So for now, this is a decision that had to be made. I cried when I told my boss and I will cry when I walk out of there for the last time.  But God has been showing me that there are opportunities everywhere. To show grace, to offer hope, to join people in their stories. It just looks a little different. And I am becoming ok with that. 

My "career" if that is what you want to call it, has never really been mine anyway. I knew God wanted me to get my masters. I did that in faith that He would provide opportunities, and every single step of the way, He has. Before I have even asked or looked for jobs or internships, He has brought opportuniteis my way. So I am not going to worry in light of this new leading. I am going to rest. I am going to trust. All of this (any talent I have, my education, my jobs, my family...my very life!) has always been His anyway.

God brought that dear woman back across my path. She gave ME something today. And it was so much more than those three objects in that little envelope. It was HOPE. And a tangible reminder that we serve a God who is in the business of Redemption. And you don't need a job to be part of that. Just a willing heart. And tonight, my heart is very, very full.

Beautiful Anya

Remember Anya? Many of you prayed for her at the end of January when she was born at 27 weeks. We never anticipated that God would call her home when He did, but two short days on this earth and she was swept away to the perfection that is Heaven. We know that she is whole and well there. That she is carried by the very hands of God and that she lacks NOTHING. But we have a void here. We miss her. Her mama, especially. We are struggling through the sadness and the questions and the emptiness and the longing and clinging to truth and hope. Anya's brave mama wrote these beautiful words last week and I wanted to share them. They encouraged my heart and I pray they will yours as well. Please keep praying for Anya's mama. Anya brought hope just as her name promised and we want to honor the grace and mercy that God extended through her very existence. 

The day you came was a marvelous Day 
I didn't know you'd soon go away.
By myself, I picked out your name
I wanted one that wouldn't make you ashamed

Daddy was far far away, that wonderful day
And the doctors came to say we should pray,
For my precious little package of Joy

They said we wouldn't have you for long
Oh but that couldn't be true, 
because you were like a new song
Of Joy and love and newness from above
We new we couldn't lose this child that we loved..

Doctor after doctor shook their head in dismay

But doctor, doctor we really have prayed

My little Anya, you grew tired and weary
Mommy's eyes grew so teary

Oh Lord you came to take this baby back to you
Was there anything, anything, that I could do?
But HE in HIS mercy and very great Grace
Lovingly Took you, back to Your original Place

We only had you for such a short while
But Little Anya, how you made MaMa smile
I will never forget, your big blue eyes, 
thick black hair, and soft baby cries.

You were ever so brave for such a little girl
Mommy never even got to say good-bye
But one thing I know and truely believe
That you are sitting right by our Savior's knee

There is no doubt, and that is for sure
I will see you again, while this world we endure
Once again to be united way above
Wrapped in the Arms of our Savior's Love 

~HN (Anya's mama)

The Story Does Not End Here

Three years ago this past month, I met my first ever counseling client. I remember so well getting the client information sheet with just two sentences scribbled on it detailing the client's perceived problem. I can still remember what those sentences said. I remember standing on the interior of the waiting room door before opening it and greeting her. I was so nervous and so unsure. I couldn't believe that on this first day of my internship, I was going to be responsible for this woman on the other side of the door. I knew once I opened that door, I was opening the door to a whole new chapter of my life. I hesitated before opening it. In those moments, I contemplated how I had gotten to this point and if I was ready for the responsibility that lay ahead of me. The courage to open the door came when I realized that I was ready for this one client. I knew that God had given her to me, for such a time as this. Our paths were meant to cross. Not just so that I could "help" her, but because we would journey together and grow through the process. Some of you may remember her, for she became quite memorable. Or rather, God's work in her life became quite memorable. Many of you probably remember her, but for a refresher you can read her story here: http://www.innocentstorm.blogspot.com/2009/09/under-influence-of-what.html . 

As I sit here and think about the faces and stories that I have come into contact with in the past three years, I am totally overwhelmed by the magnitude of what I have fought for, fought against, journeyed with, prayed over. People who have graciously allowed me into the scariest, darkest parts of their lives. Faces I won't ever forget, stories engraved on my heart. I would like to say that each of the individuals found what they were looking for through counseling. I dont know that is true, but I can say that I have been forever changed. I have been challenged and I have learned what feels like a lifetime of lessons. Experience has taught me more in the past three years than ten years of schooling. There have been highs, like what happened with "C", and there have been lows. There have been times where I fought valiantly for people who no longer believed in themselves, people who had given up on others or on faith or hope or love, and even for people who wanted to give up on life. And there have been times where I felt beat up. When I didn't have answers.

There are parts to everyone's story that we wish we could rewrite, or tear out of our books. But I have learned that God uses those parts of our lives the very most. Its the whole, "Turning weakness into strength" thing that He does so beautifully. God has used my own darkest memories and most difficult parts of my past to help me meet others in the dark place. The parts of my story that I wish I could rip out of my book. The parts that I didn't know how I would survive when I was going through them. These are the parts that now help me to understand the depth of human pain I witness in the four walls of an office when journeying with another.

"C" was my first ever client. Her story was beautiful and 100% God. He had a plan for her and her family (as He does for every individual). He chased her with persistence. Her story didn't end how many of us envisioned that it would. Humans always have free will and choice...for without that we could not love. Most dont even know where her story is at today. That is ok, it is her story to tell. But as I have met with her occasionally over the years, I have thought over and over and over the details of that entire scenario and even questioned God as to what it was all for. But when I met her a few weeks ago, her faith still so alive and vibrant, the change was still evident. The snapshot may not look like we had envisioned. But that doesn't mean that God is not present. That His grace is not evident. That His work is not done. She is beautiful. An inspiration to me, a beautiful, precious real life picture to me of how God pursues us, loves us, changes us, accepts us, blesses us, provides for us, and "makes all things new." Through trying to help "C" find what she needed and introducing her to the Jesus I knew, God met me in places of my heart I didn't even know existed. Talk about a counseling case to ride on for years to come...there is so much hope packed into that story. There wasn't always hope. There used to be much despair, shame, guilt, and destruction. But God is a God of Redemption. And He has reminded me of that over and over and over again with the stories and people that He allows me to journey with throughout life, not just in the counseling office, but at the college, in the grocery store, with my friends.

I am in the midst of a situation right now that feels eerily similiar. Something that feels so much larger than myself. God whispered a message to me many months ago when he asked me to be grace to someone who had never experienced it before. Over and over and over, He has chanted grace to me. I have watched a transformation begin to take place. But when the walls unexpectedly crashed down recently, it shook us all. I didn't see the story ending this way. I couldn't understand why when His message was grace, it appeared that in the greatest hour of need, that He would not be gracious. I cried out in anger and questioned it all. The situation kept going from bad to worse. I kept assuring her that she was at the bottom and that things could only get better. But it just kept getting worse, until the bottom fell out. There were a few hours that I thought all hope may be gone. But still, God whispered Grace to me, for her. 

I dont know how this story is going to end. Somedays I feel so overwhelmed by it all that I literally have to force one foot in front of the other. Its as though God is opening the vault on the very questions that I have tried to run from. Questions that in the past, have caused me trouble. But He has opened that vault back up. He isn't afraid of the questions because they are the very things that cause faith to go deeper, to become more woven into the fiber of our very lives. This story is nothing about me, but through it, God is breathing hope back into my soul. Which is ironic because at this very second, the situation appears utterly hopeless. I dont have the answers and I do not know what is going to happen. The only thing I know is what God is asking of me. That is clear as day to me. And what is that? To be grace, to the best of my human ability. To offer Hope, in the darkness. To pour myself out, even when nothing makes sense and it all feels entirely too overwhelming. I have no idea how this story will end or what the picture will look like in a year from now, or ten. All I know, right now, is that God is up to something that has nothing to do with me and everything to do with Him. God is weaving together an incredible story of redemption. Right now, we are in the pit, the hopeless ugly pit of despair. But the sunrise is coming. And even though it is dark right now, I see Hope rising. And even though a week ago I questioned, today I am choosing to praise the God who gives and takes away. The God of Redemption...the One who makes all things new. 

I am writing this in the pit of uncertainty. Which means that no matter what we feel, or how things appear, we are choosing to cling to Truth. We are searching and believing for the One who gave Grace and Mercy...and because of these, HOPE.

Happy First Birthday Everett Charles

It just doesn's seem possible. Not at all. I remember a year ago so well...too well...as though it were last week or last month...certainly not last year! On January 25, Jonathan's sister Amy and my sister Brenn came over and we all went to BW3's for dinner to celebrate the impending birth of the baby. When we got home, my mom was at my house because she was going to spend the night as Jon and I had to head to the hospital early the next morning. I stayed up entirely too late that night, like I always do the night before labor. Everything has to be done and in order. I was excited to be done feeling nauseous and to have food taste remotely appetizing again. After 39 weeks of feeling sick and thinking twice before eating anything, I was super excited for my first post-baby meal. And to meet my new son. I was so curious as to what he would look like. Which brother would he look more like? Would my heart double in size at the sight of him? All of my answers came the next morning.

As we were about to leave for the hospital on January 26, my mom knocked on my bedroom door to inform me that Landon was barfing. He has a strong stomach...so I knew this was going to be a serious bug for him. I left for the hospital and throughout my labor, periodically checked in with my mom as to how he was doing. It was interesting that as I was laboring to bring another child into the world, my heart was also with my other little boy who was sick at home. By 11am the contractions were rolling in steadily. I wanted to do it naturally this time, or at least try. But by 11:20 I was begging for an epidural. I have a high pain tolerance but this just took me off guard. Labors vary with each child. Landons was about as bad as they come. Noahs was almost a breeze (and my epidural with him didnt kick in until after he was born), so I thought I could do this one on my own. But Everett's labor was more difficult than Noah's. So I begged. But just as they were about to give it to me (bc the nurse said I had 2-4 more hours to go), I had an odd sensation and sure enough...there was no time for that epidural. The dr. literally pushed the anestesiologist out of the way and made her way to my bed. In what felt like weeks, I pushed and pushed. I knew the pain would go away if I could just get him out. AFter only ten minutes (but it felt like 10 hours) he was out. He was the most serene baby. So incredibly alert...so incredibly calm. Landon and Noah had cried a lot when they were born (especialy Noah), but Everett didn't really cry. He just looked at me...as though he could see my soul. All of our videos...of him getting weighed and the cord cut, etc...never so much as a wimper. Its like he knew he was home. 

The days and weeks went by so fast. Life seemed to go into hyper speed. I tried so hard to soak in the moments and to be purposeful in cherishing the smiles and cuddles, but in reality I felt like I was being pulled in a million different directions and no one was getting enough of me. It was an adjustment for sure. It was working...but I was exhausted. Then April happened when Everett had his emergency surgery. That was a game changer for me. I know it wasn't my fault. But I can't help but wonder (still today) if I had noticed earlier, if the outcome would have been different. I know he will be fine and I am so thankful for that. But I dread the day we have to tell him and if you know me deeply, you know why issues like this are such a big deal. Anyway, I spent 5 days alone with Everett once we got out of the hospital. Partly because both boys had the stomach flu (again) and partly bc I just needed some time to focus on him. To heal. To process what had happened. To make sure he knew how important he was to his mama. And he did. There was a moment in those five days that I swear he looked at me just like he did in the hospital when he was born. And he smiled into my eyes and if he could have talked he would have said, "Its ok, Mom. I know how much you love me. I know how far you would go to protect me. And I am going to be just fine. God made me. God knows your past. He knows your fears. And this isn't to scare you more, but to make you trust Him more." And then God whispered, " Kristen, he is mine, not yours, he always has been mine...all of your children are mine." "I am trusting you to care for them, but ultimately you have to trust Me that I know this child I knit together for you and that I love him even more than you do." I learned in that moment that I can try and try and try to protect my children, but some things are outside of my control. And if I dont learn to trust, I will go crazy. But through this experience...a bond was formed with Everett that was distinct. I have a different relationship with each of my boys and Everett's started to really take shape in that 4th month.

He is my baby boy. He is a mama's boy. His whole little face just lights up like a light bulb the minute he sets eyes on me. Don't get me wrong, he dearly loves his daddy too. I think he is closer to Jon than either of the other boys were at this young of an age. And he thinks his brothers are the coolest things ever. When I lay Noah down for nap Everett will try continuously to get into his room bc he thinks it is cool to be sneaky with Noah. And Landon. Oh Landon...the bond he and Everett have is just remarkable. So often I find myself stopping what I am doing and just listening to them interact, or I hide behind the corner so they don't see me and just watch them. They are beautiful those two. But ultimately, Everett loves his mama. And he wants to be with me and he thinks I am funny and he wants me to hold him or dance with him or sing to him or hold his hand. I know it won't always be that way...I have watched as my older boys take those steps of independence necessary to become men. But for now, I just store it all up in my heart. Every time he lets me rock him. Every time he sings God is so Good or Great is Thy Faithfulness right along with me. Every time he laughs his characteristic laugh or gets excited about some new facet of the world. Every time he catches my eyes with those deep eyes of him and flashes that beautiful smile, my heart is so thankful. So very thankful for this boy that I never knew I needed. So thankful to God for sharing our precious Everett with us. Happy First Birthday to my beautiful boy who looks a lot like his daddy, which is probably why he so completely stole his mama's heart. We love you so!