I'm actually writing this while my daycare kids are sleeping. Because I'm waiting for them to wake up. Because I'm bored without them.
I started volunteering at this childcare center the summer that I was 14. All of my friends had jobs because they were older than I was, but with my summer birthday, I could only volunteer. My parents made the gentle suggestion that I find something to do with myself - so I went in expecting to volunteer two mornings a week, 8-noon, and find some other sort of work the following summer when I was old enough... and here I am, six summers later, and I'm still here. (I'm licensed and actually get a paycheck now though, so that's good)
My first day at TDC (probably first several days) I had to have help changing diapers and my coworkers had to instruct me how to make bottles (yeah, like the kind where you just mix powdered formula and water. Difficult, I know.) As the years went on, I worked every day after school my junior and senior years of high school, 3-close. I got into a routine of coming after school each day, tossing in a load of laundry, switching the laundry at 4:45, putting my kids down for their last cat nap of the day a little before five, and doing their dishes from snack before I went home. It was my 'break' between a full day of school and a full evening of homework.
As the weeks went on, I got better at multi-tasking, 'reading' what a child really needed, and overall, really just winging it, because in childcare, that's what you spend 99% of your time doing. All of the training in the world can't necessarily prepare you for your first bloody nose, or a kid who falls off of the top of the slide on the playground, or how to get ranch dressing out of a two year old's ear. (All of those are real life) In all honesty, some of my favorite memories are the time I fed two very excited 11 month olds jello at the same time, or the time I had to carry two kids by the back of their overalls because the kid in my other hand was bleeding, or playing tag on the capitol grounds during our summer picnics. I love watching them play Duck Duck Goose when they clearly don't get the game so we spend 80% of our time just running in a circle and screaming.
During the summer of 2012 those kids helped me more than I could ever even fully realize - starting with one particular child who allowed me to keep her on my lap and snuggle her for two solid hours when I got the phone call that one of my friends had gone missing, but we weren't in a legal ratio for me to leave. Over the next few weeks as I began to navigate through grief for the first time, there was nothing in the world more healing than snuggling with those kids, or being able to fix the things that ailed them throughout the day. In light of fixing their problems, I may have been the teacher who had to be reminded of things I typically would have known like the back of my hand, and that yes, the kids had to nap in their own beds, they could not sleep on my lap for three hours, no, I could not share my Wendy's frosty with them.
There are a lot of days where I leave work thinking "Wow, I could never do this for the rest of my life." But there's more mornings when I get to work and feel like 12 hours was a really long time to not see them. This morning was my first time at work in over six months, there is absolutely no substitute in the world for hearing "Emmy!" and the pitter patter of feet when someone comes running, or any substitute for "Miss Emily, where have you been? I missed you!" Each time I leave I tell them that there is no growing, milestones, or learning new skills while I'm gone, and each time, they never listen.
Now, seven years after I learned how to change a diaper, I'm pretty confident in my ability to handle blood, ranch dressing in places it shouldn't be, and bodily fluids of all sorts. I also have no problem letting them put paint wherever they want, play with any kind of crafting supplies, and climb on all things that can be climbed on. Sometimes I think that I create more work for myself, but then I see kids I had as tiny babies come to visit and they're in first or second grade, and I remember that it's probably okay to get paint underneath their toenails, or accidentally get glitter and contact paper stuck to the wall.
I don't think I've ever been more thankful for seven years of changing diapers, wiping noses, and icing some bruises here and there - because with that has come seven years of belly laughs, seeing lots of 'milestones', and many children falling asleep on my lap. (Which I would argue, is possibly the best feeling in the world.) I'm thankful for parents who entrust their children with me day in and day out, knowing that I might accidentally teach them how to clothesline when I teach them an innocent game of Red Rover, knowing that their toenails might be green for the next two weeks, but hopefully, knowing that their child is making my day ten times more than I'm making theirs.
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Sunday, December 14, 2014
A Gap in Understanding
A few days ago, this article popped up on my timeline. Bill Nye was someone that was idolized by my generation in grade school and we watched countless times in science class on movie days, so instead of scrolling past, I clicked on it. You could read it, but just reading the URL may familiarize you enough. If you wish you read the whole article, though, please do so.
http://www.rawstory.com/rs/2014/12/bill-nye-children-taught-creationism-will-not-be-able-to-participate-in-the-future/
Let me start all of this by saying two things...
1. Science has always been, and will always be, my worst subject in school.
2. More importantly, I love Jesus with all my heart and accept Him as my Savior.
Moving right along.. towards the end of the article, Nye makes his point very clear that "they're not raising dumb kids. they're just raising kids who are unable, or uncomfortable with using the scientific method... Who's going to come up with the next innovation that's going to keep the United States competitive ... if you raise a generation of kids who can't do physics or chemistry?"
This statement right here irked me for a few reasons.
1. The way you learn about this world is by hearing the different viewpoints inside of it and making your own decisions.
I learned about evolution in school, too. Don't let this shock you - but I believe it. But - I believe in something bigger than evolution - that is the key. It is not an either-or debate for me. I believe that creationism answers the questions that I still have about evolution. Just because I believe in God does not mean I reject evolution - evolution consistently backs up creationism.
2. I am extremely capable of using the scientific method - and so are many of my brothers and sisters.
The scientific method was certainly one of those things that was probably on every single science test I ever took in elementary school and middle school. Could I tell you a single one of those steps now? Nope. However, I am smart enough to do things like make observations and interpretations, try new things, formulate hypotheses, and draw conclusions in the order that I see fit for my area of sparked interest. Just because I am a believer does not mean I go about my day without struggles, hard decisions, or mistakes. It means that I have someone bigger to look to when I screw up.
3. God does not do my homework for me.
I found it interesting that his narrow-mindedness was so evident in his last comment. It was apparent to me that he truly believes that those of us who know creationism are incapable of doing 'smart' things to help our society. As though I am incapable of thinking for myself, doing my own exploration, and holding passion. Later, he goes on to say that we are raising a generation of kids who are 'discouraged from thinking'. One of my biggest goals in life for the past six years has been to be an pediatric therapist in a children's hospital. As said previously, science is not my best subject - but to achieve this goal, I have to take some science courses. And they suck. However - God does not get me the GPA that I have earned so far in college (and that I'm rather proud of.) It is by His grace that I've found the focus to study, and the people to study with, but by my own free will I am making the choice and 'encouraging my own thinking.' - Nowhere along the way did I find a magic report card in my bible to send to my graduate school applications. Please do not assume that simply because I accept a more wide range of answers for where I came from means I am incapable of thinking and solving problems.
Last night I was babysitting and the oldest boy kept coming out of his room after I put him to bed complaining he was hungry, thirsty, had to go potty, wasn't tired, and an array of other complaints. I eventually gave in, and had been watching Tangled, so I let him come watch the last twenty minutes of the movie with me. He curled up on my lap and as we watched the last scene where Rapunzel's hair glows, he began to rattle on about why it does that - a mixture of his own questions and interpretations. Eventually, we came down to the idea that it was just 'magic'. He looked up at me, his eyes wide, and said "It's just like Santa!" and immediately launched into his explanation of how Santa would come to their house, and how he would get into the fireplace, and he eventually realized that all of these things were quite impossible. Finally, he said "I don't know, I guess that's magic, too." And without a hesitation, he turned back to the movie - no doubt in his mind about everything he had just told me.
So, while I could spend the rest of my life researching, learning, and exploring the idea of evolution but finding more questions than answers, I think I'll take a lesson from Braden - and be content with my confidence that there is something bigger than anything I could ever learn.
http://www.rawstory.com/rs/2014/12/bill-nye-children-taught-creationism-will-not-be-able-to-participate-in-the-future/
Let me start all of this by saying two things...
1. Science has always been, and will always be, my worst subject in school.
2. More importantly, I love Jesus with all my heart and accept Him as my Savior.
Moving right along.. towards the end of the article, Nye makes his point very clear that "they're not raising dumb kids. they're just raising kids who are unable, or uncomfortable with using the scientific method... Who's going to come up with the next innovation that's going to keep the United States competitive ... if you raise a generation of kids who can't do physics or chemistry?"
This statement right here irked me for a few reasons.
1. The way you learn about this world is by hearing the different viewpoints inside of it and making your own decisions.
I learned about evolution in school, too. Don't let this shock you - but I believe it. But - I believe in something bigger than evolution - that is the key. It is not an either-or debate for me. I believe that creationism answers the questions that I still have about evolution. Just because I believe in God does not mean I reject evolution - evolution consistently backs up creationism.
2. I am extremely capable of using the scientific method - and so are many of my brothers and sisters.
The scientific method was certainly one of those things that was probably on every single science test I ever took in elementary school and middle school. Could I tell you a single one of those steps now? Nope. However, I am smart enough to do things like make observations and interpretations, try new things, formulate hypotheses, and draw conclusions in the order that I see fit for my area of sparked interest. Just because I am a believer does not mean I go about my day without struggles, hard decisions, or mistakes. It means that I have someone bigger to look to when I screw up.
3. God does not do my homework for me.
I found it interesting that his narrow-mindedness was so evident in his last comment. It was apparent to me that he truly believes that those of us who know creationism are incapable of doing 'smart' things to help our society. As though I am incapable of thinking for myself, doing my own exploration, and holding passion. Later, he goes on to say that we are raising a generation of kids who are 'discouraged from thinking'. One of my biggest goals in life for the past six years has been to be an pediatric therapist in a children's hospital. As said previously, science is not my best subject - but to achieve this goal, I have to take some science courses. And they suck. However - God does not get me the GPA that I have earned so far in college (and that I'm rather proud of.) It is by His grace that I've found the focus to study, and the people to study with, but by my own free will I am making the choice and 'encouraging my own thinking.' - Nowhere along the way did I find a magic report card in my bible to send to my graduate school applications. Please do not assume that simply because I accept a more wide range of answers for where I came from means I am incapable of thinking and solving problems.
Last night I was babysitting and the oldest boy kept coming out of his room after I put him to bed complaining he was hungry, thirsty, had to go potty, wasn't tired, and an array of other complaints. I eventually gave in, and had been watching Tangled, so I let him come watch the last twenty minutes of the movie with me. He curled up on my lap and as we watched the last scene where Rapunzel's hair glows, he began to rattle on about why it does that - a mixture of his own questions and interpretations. Eventually, we came down to the idea that it was just 'magic'. He looked up at me, his eyes wide, and said "It's just like Santa!" and immediately launched into his explanation of how Santa would come to their house, and how he would get into the fireplace, and he eventually realized that all of these things were quite impossible. Finally, he said "I don't know, I guess that's magic, too." And without a hesitation, he turned back to the movie - no doubt in his mind about everything he had just told me.
So, while I could spend the rest of my life researching, learning, and exploring the idea of evolution but finding more questions than answers, I think I'll take a lesson from Braden - and be content with my confidence that there is something bigger than anything I could ever learn.
Saturday, November 29, 2014
The Years Are Short
Awhile back, I was in the car with a friend who shared a quote with me she had heard recently: "The days are long, but the years are short."
As I thought through it, I confirmed it in my head. Yep, made sense. How often do I think that this week or day is taking forever, but here I am at the end of November wondering where the heck 2014 went?
It's been several months since she told me this quote and it still has a tendency to really stick in my head, almost when I need to hear it most, for example, days like today. I had been looking forward to today for several weeks. Not only was it game day for my favorite team, we were tailgating, my family would be up, but we were also playing KU, which meant I would get to see many of my friends from high school that I hadn't caught up with in months - especially not all in the same place. To add to that, the weather was darn near perfect today - I truly couldn't have asked for a better day with people that I really love to spend time with (and maybe some good food and drinks here and there, too.) :)
Now, as I'm finally home, and showered, I'm looking around my room. Tomorrow is back to school from Thanksgiving break for three more weeks of the semester. I'm at the point in the semester where I'm extremely ready for my classes to be done. I'm to the point where I now absolutely have to study for the cumulative finals and write the final papers. I have my final presentations and meetings. As I'm looking around my room and the clothes strung everywhere, notebooks and textbooks laying open, and the random array of things that have to be packed tomorrow, I can say that I am not looking forward to tomorrow as much as I was looking forward to today - a bit of a depressing feeling, if you wondered. But.. the years are short.
It doesn't seem like that long ago that I went out with some of the same friends I was with today over Christmas break my senior year of high school and saw a movie that had just been released, called New Year's Eve. If you've never seen it, it's about a bunch of different characters each trying to get somewhere different for their New Year's Eve night. Most of their paths cross somehow, and it's probably a two star movie about second chances and love and kindness and whatever other happy things you can get out of it. The thing I most remember, though is that this was the last movie our group saw together before Brenna died - and it was set specifically for all of these people to be excited about the year 2012. I remember us talking about that year, and how excited we were to graduate, to start college, and for most of us, turn 18.
Now, almost three years later, turning 18, graduating, and starting college seem like the most minor things I could pull from 2012. When I think about it, the days really have been long, but I've almost blinked and those three years were gone - especially after catching up with those same friends today. If I could go back in time, I would tell my 17 year old self this - because what you do in a day matters more than what you do in a year.
As I thought through it, I confirmed it in my head. Yep, made sense. How often do I think that this week or day is taking forever, but here I am at the end of November wondering where the heck 2014 went?
It's been several months since she told me this quote and it still has a tendency to really stick in my head, almost when I need to hear it most, for example, days like today. I had been looking forward to today for several weeks. Not only was it game day for my favorite team, we were tailgating, my family would be up, but we were also playing KU, which meant I would get to see many of my friends from high school that I hadn't caught up with in months - especially not all in the same place. To add to that, the weather was darn near perfect today - I truly couldn't have asked for a better day with people that I really love to spend time with (and maybe some good food and drinks here and there, too.) :)
Now, as I'm finally home, and showered, I'm looking around my room. Tomorrow is back to school from Thanksgiving break for three more weeks of the semester. I'm at the point in the semester where I'm extremely ready for my classes to be done. I'm to the point where I now absolutely have to study for the cumulative finals and write the final papers. I have my final presentations and meetings. As I'm looking around my room and the clothes strung everywhere, notebooks and textbooks laying open, and the random array of things that have to be packed tomorrow, I can say that I am not looking forward to tomorrow as much as I was looking forward to today - a bit of a depressing feeling, if you wondered. But.. the years are short.
It doesn't seem like that long ago that I went out with some of the same friends I was with today over Christmas break my senior year of high school and saw a movie that had just been released, called New Year's Eve. If you've never seen it, it's about a bunch of different characters each trying to get somewhere different for their New Year's Eve night. Most of their paths cross somehow, and it's probably a two star movie about second chances and love and kindness and whatever other happy things you can get out of it. The thing I most remember, though is that this was the last movie our group saw together before Brenna died - and it was set specifically for all of these people to be excited about the year 2012. I remember us talking about that year, and how excited we were to graduate, to start college, and for most of us, turn 18.
Now, almost three years later, turning 18, graduating, and starting college seem like the most minor things I could pull from 2012. When I think about it, the days really have been long, but I've almost blinked and those three years were gone - especially after catching up with those same friends today. If I could go back in time, I would tell my 17 year old self this - because what you do in a day matters more than what you do in a year.
Sunday, November 2, 2014
On Pumpkin Spice Lattes
If I could move anywhere in the world, it would be somewhere that doesn't have the month of November.
That seems silly, but I've never liked November. In fact, I think it's always been last on my 'favorite months of the year' list. I can't stand cold weather and all the things that come with it - having to layer, scraping my windshield in the morning, seeing less sunlight, and as a general rule, I am ALWAYS cold. So November, who consistently holds the most school assignments, isn't quite close enough to Christmas, and doesn't get snow often, just doesn't sit well with me.
A few years ago, after looking into it, I recognized that I do show some signs of Seasonal Affective Disorder - basically depression from about October - March. Very mildly, but still there. This made sense to me - besides the weather, Christmas has also never been my favorite holiday, and I often feel guilty for that. The culture we live in celebrates gifts more than Christ himself and that has made me want nothing to do with it. Plus, it's freezing outside. When you aren't the biggest fan of Christmas, and don't like to go outside in the cold, there isn't a lot to do in the winter time.
After experiencing the death of two people I loved in 2012, Christmas became substantially worse. How on earth do you celebrate holidays knowing you're missing someone? I couldn't wrap my mind around that. I don't WANT to drink pumpkin spice anything. I don't WANT to Christmas shop. and I really honestly want nothing to do with a holiday that is so, incredibly, Hallmarked.
I began asking God about that. God, I know Christmas is your favorite holiday, why can't it be mine too? What needs to change? This year, as fall as wore on, I've been dreading the coming of colder weather, knowing what it may bring for me. But this year, something has been different. I wish I could tell you in a concrete fashion what that something was, but my very best answer is that of Isaiah 45:2 "I will go before you and level the mountains."
Thinking about this logically, 'changing my feelings' about the winter season could be done in one of two ways. The world I live in tells me if I pretend to like something, especially if the people around me are doing it, then I will probably like it and enjoy it more. For example, if I pretend to like pumpkin spice lattes (which I think are awful) I will thus look forward to spending time drinking them with my friends - even though winter absolutely zaps my energy and desire to do any sort of thing. If I pretend I like to Christmas shop, then most certainly I will love this holiday just as much as everyone else. Right?
But I really don't like this theory. Changing my actions might (MIGHT) change the way I think about something, but not the way I feel about it. There's only one person who can change the way I feel about something, and that's the One who created me. So, in essence, I don't have to pretend to like anything. (Hallelujah to that) I simply have to request that God, in his mercy, change my heart about the way I feel during this season - and (most importantly) continually seek Him in that journey.
God tells me that I can drink whatever kind of coffee I want, and he will bring me great joy through my time with the people I love - as long as I am continually spending time with Him. He tells me I don't have to like Christmas shopping, or snow, or anything else that happens in December, but he will show me the joys that come when I finish my finals and get to come home and spend five weeks with my family and friends at other schools. He will show me the joy in warm blankets, fireplaces, and hot chocolate. He will show me the joy I get from understanding the real meaning of Christmas when I go to the candlelight service on Christmas Eve, and he will show me what it looks like to trust when I allow God to meet me where I'm at, and the leaves will, as always, grow back on the trees next spring.
That seems silly, but I've never liked November. In fact, I think it's always been last on my 'favorite months of the year' list. I can't stand cold weather and all the things that come with it - having to layer, scraping my windshield in the morning, seeing less sunlight, and as a general rule, I am ALWAYS cold. So November, who consistently holds the most school assignments, isn't quite close enough to Christmas, and doesn't get snow often, just doesn't sit well with me.
A few years ago, after looking into it, I recognized that I do show some signs of Seasonal Affective Disorder - basically depression from about October - March. Very mildly, but still there. This made sense to me - besides the weather, Christmas has also never been my favorite holiday, and I often feel guilty for that. The culture we live in celebrates gifts more than Christ himself and that has made me want nothing to do with it. Plus, it's freezing outside. When you aren't the biggest fan of Christmas, and don't like to go outside in the cold, there isn't a lot to do in the winter time.
After experiencing the death of two people I loved in 2012, Christmas became substantially worse. How on earth do you celebrate holidays knowing you're missing someone? I couldn't wrap my mind around that. I don't WANT to drink pumpkin spice anything. I don't WANT to Christmas shop. and I really honestly want nothing to do with a holiday that is so, incredibly, Hallmarked.
I began asking God about that. God, I know Christmas is your favorite holiday, why can't it be mine too? What needs to change? This year, as fall as wore on, I've been dreading the coming of colder weather, knowing what it may bring for me. But this year, something has been different. I wish I could tell you in a concrete fashion what that something was, but my very best answer is that of Isaiah 45:2 "I will go before you and level the mountains."
Thinking about this logically, 'changing my feelings' about the winter season could be done in one of two ways. The world I live in tells me if I pretend to like something, especially if the people around me are doing it, then I will probably like it and enjoy it more. For example, if I pretend to like pumpkin spice lattes (which I think are awful) I will thus look forward to spending time drinking them with my friends - even though winter absolutely zaps my energy and desire to do any sort of thing. If I pretend I like to Christmas shop, then most certainly I will love this holiday just as much as everyone else. Right?
But I really don't like this theory. Changing my actions might (MIGHT) change the way I think about something, but not the way I feel about it. There's only one person who can change the way I feel about something, and that's the One who created me. So, in essence, I don't have to pretend to like anything. (Hallelujah to that) I simply have to request that God, in his mercy, change my heart about the way I feel during this season - and (most importantly) continually seek Him in that journey.
God tells me that I can drink whatever kind of coffee I want, and he will bring me great joy through my time with the people I love - as long as I am continually spending time with Him. He tells me I don't have to like Christmas shopping, or snow, or anything else that happens in December, but he will show me the joys that come when I finish my finals and get to come home and spend five weeks with my family and friends at other schools. He will show me the joy in warm blankets, fireplaces, and hot chocolate. He will show me the joy I get from understanding the real meaning of Christmas when I go to the candlelight service on Christmas Eve, and he will show me what it looks like to trust when I allow God to meet me where I'm at, and the leaves will, as always, grow back on the trees next spring.
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Doors, Jars, and Bank Accounts
Recently, I had the opportunity to sit and chat with a friend of mine dealing with the loss of her dad and grandpa. She's working through the first stages of grief and we talked about how incredibly difficult it is to be thinking about college graduation, a job, and then suddenly have such a tragedy in your life that seems to give you tunnel vision - blinding you to anything except 'doing the next thing'.
Additionally, my family passed another anniversary of a special day this past Monday - the little boy who took up such a big spot in my heart would have been eight. Although my pain is not near as constant or vibrant now as my friends' is, from either Luke's death or Brenna's, it is definitely still lurking in the shadows on such days - I spent much of the day just 'being with' one of my best friends - going through the motions of the day, but not actually being too mentally present for any of it. It's hard to do that when you think about what the day could have held - which brings me to my next thought. My friend and I shared many similar thoughts during our conversation even though our experiences with death were so vastly different - mine were a friend and a family friend, both young people, and hers were her dad and her grandpa. Mine happened two and a half years ago, and hers happened less than three months ago. Nevertheless, we found ourselves relating on many levels of "You feel/felt that way too??" which only made me wish that someone had told me these things two and a half years ago. We came up with these things that we wish people knew when they were helping those they loved that were grieving.
1. When someone dies, you grieve your past, present, and future with that person. This means that not only am I sad that I lost them, I am also sad for all the future memories that will never be made - especially if I had plans to be with this person in the future.
2. Understand that when you ask me if I am okay, I am probably lying to you. - Or at least withholding truth. Even if I say 'bad'. Of course I'm bad, what do you expect? But grief can occasionally take away your ability to both feel and understand how you feel, so chances are, I feel upset, angry, sad, empty, and everything in between. And I also can't put any of that into words, because that's just how it feels - confusing.
3. If you want to help me, offer to do very specific things. Especially at the beginning. My mind is not processing at a rate to ask for help. This may sound like "I'm going into town, what errands can I run for you?" "I'm going to Sonic, what can I get you?" "Can I do some laundry for you?" It's not really about me doing my own laundry, it's knowing that you're thinking about me - I know that you can't bring back the person, but if that's how you show someone that you're there for them, it means the world.
4. Do not tell me that you know how I feel. Even if you think you do. Because chances are, it probably will just make me mad. "I'm really sorry that you're hurting' is a more appropriate response.
5. You can't fix it, and I understand that. And it's okay. I've got some really awesome best friends and their favorite phrase on my very scarce days when I still struggle with grief is 'Can I be with you today?' This usually involves doing homework together or watching a movie and not talking about it at all, but having my friends around me makes me feel a million times better.
6. Don't assume that just because I'm not talking about it, it's not there. It's okay and really good to help me try to integrate back into normal everyday life, but be respectful and understanding when I tell you I just am not up for something - Grief doesn't end when the funeral does.
7. The stages of grief are not neat and orderly. Sometimes, I can actually hit all five in like, a day. Let me grieve.
8. Understand the gift of time. And if you're feeling brave, stick it through with me. Time doesn't heal all, but it doesn't give you more clear vision. This part won't last forever.
9. Closure is a big, fat, lie. There is contentment, but once a hole in your heart is opened, you don't close it. You learn to put other things in there - a place to give that love back to that you once gave the person. But it kind of looks like play dough molded by a preschooler - never quite the same as it was when you took it out of the container. And that is okay.
10. Doors, Jars, and Bank Accounts close. Relationships do not. Understand that while it's really hard for me to talk about 'it', just because that person is no longer physically present in my life does not mean that my relationship with them is over. I still have old stories about them, I will still keep my pictures of them, and I will hang on to my memories of them. Above all, it is likely they will continue to influence the way that I live my life - do not be afraid to hear about these things.
Additionally, my family passed another anniversary of a special day this past Monday - the little boy who took up such a big spot in my heart would have been eight. Although my pain is not near as constant or vibrant now as my friends' is, from either Luke's death or Brenna's, it is definitely still lurking in the shadows on such days - I spent much of the day just 'being with' one of my best friends - going through the motions of the day, but not actually being too mentally present for any of it. It's hard to do that when you think about what the day could have held - which brings me to my next thought. My friend and I shared many similar thoughts during our conversation even though our experiences with death were so vastly different - mine were a friend and a family friend, both young people, and hers were her dad and her grandpa. Mine happened two and a half years ago, and hers happened less than three months ago. Nevertheless, we found ourselves relating on many levels of "You feel/felt that way too??" which only made me wish that someone had told me these things two and a half years ago. We came up with these things that we wish people knew when they were helping those they loved that were grieving.
1. When someone dies, you grieve your past, present, and future with that person. This means that not only am I sad that I lost them, I am also sad for all the future memories that will never be made - especially if I had plans to be with this person in the future.
2. Understand that when you ask me if I am okay, I am probably lying to you. - Or at least withholding truth. Even if I say 'bad'. Of course I'm bad, what do you expect? But grief can occasionally take away your ability to both feel and understand how you feel, so chances are, I feel upset, angry, sad, empty, and everything in between. And I also can't put any of that into words, because that's just how it feels - confusing.
3. If you want to help me, offer to do very specific things. Especially at the beginning. My mind is not processing at a rate to ask for help. This may sound like "I'm going into town, what errands can I run for you?" "I'm going to Sonic, what can I get you?" "Can I do some laundry for you?" It's not really about me doing my own laundry, it's knowing that you're thinking about me - I know that you can't bring back the person, but if that's how you show someone that you're there for them, it means the world.
4. Do not tell me that you know how I feel. Even if you think you do. Because chances are, it probably will just make me mad. "I'm really sorry that you're hurting' is a more appropriate response.
5. You can't fix it, and I understand that. And it's okay. I've got some really awesome best friends and their favorite phrase on my very scarce days when I still struggle with grief is 'Can I be with you today?' This usually involves doing homework together or watching a movie and not talking about it at all, but having my friends around me makes me feel a million times better.
6. Don't assume that just because I'm not talking about it, it's not there. It's okay and really good to help me try to integrate back into normal everyday life, but be respectful and understanding when I tell you I just am not up for something - Grief doesn't end when the funeral does.
7. The stages of grief are not neat and orderly. Sometimes, I can actually hit all five in like, a day. Let me grieve.
8. Understand the gift of time. And if you're feeling brave, stick it through with me. Time doesn't heal all, but it doesn't give you more clear vision. This part won't last forever.
9. Closure is a big, fat, lie. There is contentment, but once a hole in your heart is opened, you don't close it. You learn to put other things in there - a place to give that love back to that you once gave the person. But it kind of looks like play dough molded by a preschooler - never quite the same as it was when you took it out of the container. And that is okay.
10. Doors, Jars, and Bank Accounts close. Relationships do not. Understand that while it's really hard for me to talk about 'it', just because that person is no longer physically present in my life does not mean that my relationship with them is over. I still have old stories about them, I will still keep my pictures of them, and I will hang on to my memories of them. Above all, it is likely they will continue to influence the way that I live my life - do not be afraid to hear about these things.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
For My Viking Family
For my high school friends reading this, you might remember that this week marks the date of an important anniversary - four years since the accident that we lost a member of our class, and the first of many rounds of heartbreak and 'coming together' for us. It was the Monday after Homecoming, and entirely shocking to wake up to those text messages and news reports as reality set in that it wasn't happening to 'someone else'. The hallways that day were mostly filled with whispers and tears, not the usual loud, chaotic high school environment. People didn't talk much, teachers were less strict, and I very vividly remember going to seminar that week and seeing the empty desk behind me.
I didn't really know Courtney well, and that's really not why I'm writing this. What I do remember was the phrase that seemed to imprint itself on our student body in bold letters: "Together We Can". Although I wasn't friends with Courtney, or part of any organizations that she was, and my only real connection was that she sat behind me in one of my classes - I saw that phrase everywhere. I saw the lime green bracelets floating around the hallways, it appeared on social media, and it was engraved in my heart as I began to navigate the idea of loss - whatever that meant.
Not quite two years later, when Brenna died, the phrase made it's appearance again. Brenna was also quite popular in the band, and I'm sure that's part of the reason, but I'd also like to attribute it to the fact that those of us at school on September 28, 2010 and the days to follow learned quickly that the best way to navigate through silent hallways and tearful announcements was just that - together.
Last February, I was home for senior night, and it also happened to be two days after Seaman lost another student to a car accident. She was not in the band, and the only class remaining at Seaman at the time had been only freshmen at the time of Courtney's death. However, I noticed among the sea of pink students and posters in the gym that night there was one smaller poster in the corner - a heart drawn in pink (replacing Courtney's signature lime green) with the phrase "Together We Can" written inside.
As I watched the dynamic of the people in the gym that night, I was, as always, an incredibly proud graduate. I was proud to see Washburn Rural sporting pink t-shirts in honor of our lost student, I was proud to see our basketball team and coaches in pink socks and dress shirts, and I was proud of how our student body was still able to be loud, cheerful, and supportive of the teams playing, while realizing the seriousness of the situation that had fallen at their feet during the moment of silence. It was given when the room fell silent before the half time performance where the cheer team was missing a teammate, that they 'got it.' They understand - the best, and usually the only, way to do it is together.
Since coming to college, I've taken classes in just about every different realm. But the one that no one has ever covered for me is "How to support someone grieving" or "How to grieve" or "How to lose people" or honestly, even a course on being there for someone going through any kind of tough time or traumatic situation. What does that really look like? If you ask members of the Seaman student body something that they've learned in the past few years, many of my own classmates will tell you something along the lines of "Death is inevitable", or something to do with how quickly in life we met those tough situations. However, fortunately for us, death may be inevitable, but so is living with people.
Although I have no idea how to 'fix' certain things in this world, and I don't believe some things can be fixed, I think that the world might perhaps be a better functioning society if people simply realized that "Together We Can". In dealing with death and grief, I'll be the first to say that I have some of the best friends around - I always receive text messages and calls on anniversaries, birthdays, or days my friends know are important - even when we're hours away from each other. What if we took the time to learn these details about other areas of people's lives, not just past traumatic situations? How much easier would the 'downs' of life be to deal with? My preschoolers will tell you that the best way to help someone is by 'carrying something heavy for someone' or 'telling them their hair looks nice' - and if I can't fix it, I'd love to help them carry something heavy or be a bright spot in their day. Because quite honestly, the best, easiest, and happiest way to live with people for the rest of my life.. is probably to live it together.
I didn't really know Courtney well, and that's really not why I'm writing this. What I do remember was the phrase that seemed to imprint itself on our student body in bold letters: "Together We Can". Although I wasn't friends with Courtney, or part of any organizations that she was, and my only real connection was that she sat behind me in one of my classes - I saw that phrase everywhere. I saw the lime green bracelets floating around the hallways, it appeared on social media, and it was engraved in my heart as I began to navigate the idea of loss - whatever that meant.
Not quite two years later, when Brenna died, the phrase made it's appearance again. Brenna was also quite popular in the band, and I'm sure that's part of the reason, but I'd also like to attribute it to the fact that those of us at school on September 28, 2010 and the days to follow learned quickly that the best way to navigate through silent hallways and tearful announcements was just that - together.
Last February, I was home for senior night, and it also happened to be two days after Seaman lost another student to a car accident. She was not in the band, and the only class remaining at Seaman at the time had been only freshmen at the time of Courtney's death. However, I noticed among the sea of pink students and posters in the gym that night there was one smaller poster in the corner - a heart drawn in pink (replacing Courtney's signature lime green) with the phrase "Together We Can" written inside.
As I watched the dynamic of the people in the gym that night, I was, as always, an incredibly proud graduate. I was proud to see Washburn Rural sporting pink t-shirts in honor of our lost student, I was proud to see our basketball team and coaches in pink socks and dress shirts, and I was proud of how our student body was still able to be loud, cheerful, and supportive of the teams playing, while realizing the seriousness of the situation that had fallen at their feet during the moment of silence. It was given when the room fell silent before the half time performance where the cheer team was missing a teammate, that they 'got it.' They understand - the best, and usually the only, way to do it is together.
Since coming to college, I've taken classes in just about every different realm. But the one that no one has ever covered for me is "How to support someone grieving" or "How to grieve" or "How to lose people" or honestly, even a course on being there for someone going through any kind of tough time or traumatic situation. What does that really look like? If you ask members of the Seaman student body something that they've learned in the past few years, many of my own classmates will tell you something along the lines of "Death is inevitable", or something to do with how quickly in life we met those tough situations. However, fortunately for us, death may be inevitable, but so is living with people.
Although I have no idea how to 'fix' certain things in this world, and I don't believe some things can be fixed, I think that the world might perhaps be a better functioning society if people simply realized that "Together We Can". In dealing with death and grief, I'll be the first to say that I have some of the best friends around - I always receive text messages and calls on anniversaries, birthdays, or days my friends know are important - even when we're hours away from each other. What if we took the time to learn these details about other areas of people's lives, not just past traumatic situations? How much easier would the 'downs' of life be to deal with? My preschoolers will tell you that the best way to help someone is by 'carrying something heavy for someone' or 'telling them their hair looks nice' - and if I can't fix it, I'd love to help them carry something heavy or be a bright spot in their day. Because quite honestly, the best, easiest, and happiest way to live with people for the rest of my life.. is probably to live it together.
Monday, September 15, 2014
The Art of Being Used
There are many things in this world that can be bought used, and there are many things that should never, ever be bought used. I will let you discern the 'never ever' list for yourself, but as a college student, I rather enjoy renting or buying used textbooks. They tend to have a positive affect on both my bank account and my learning - they're cheaper, and they often have the important parts already highlighted or circled from helpful friends who have come before me. On a very lucky day, the previous owner of the book has left a helpful sticky note inside.
Another thing I find that I must have used is my bible - maybe I'm just picky. The bible I currently use is about three years old, and I purchased it about nine months before the death of a close friend. Now, three years later, it has a few ripped pages, some sticky notes inside, and lots and lots of notes in pen from every stage that I've been in in the last three years. Additionally, some of the pages are actually falling out, so I have to be extra careful when it's in my backpack. Essentially, if I carry that bible around with me, the idea is that I should be able to handle just about anything. I often have trouble if I don't have that bible. I have three or four other bibles at home - and yet every single time I come home for the weekend, I feel it necessary to tote my bible along with me.
I was thinking about this the other day as one of my classes was discussing privileges in the world that Christians do or don't have. Some of the views from my classmates made it clear that they see Christians either as perfect, or much closer to it than them - causing us to be the 'privileged' group in the debate. Whether or not we're privileged isn't really the point of this, or really my responsibility to decide, but it did make me wonder how I come across to those I come into contact with - regardless of their religion, relationship to me, etc.? Do I let Jesus toss me in his backpack in the morning willingly, or do I stray away because I'm weary of the sheer possibility of highlights and eraser marks from His work?
Another thing I find that I must have used is my bible - maybe I'm just picky. The bible I currently use is about three years old, and I purchased it about nine months before the death of a close friend. Now, three years later, it has a few ripped pages, some sticky notes inside, and lots and lots of notes in pen from every stage that I've been in in the last three years. Additionally, some of the pages are actually falling out, so I have to be extra careful when it's in my backpack. Essentially, if I carry that bible around with me, the idea is that I should be able to handle just about anything. I often have trouble if I don't have that bible. I have three or four other bibles at home - and yet every single time I come home for the weekend, I feel it necessary to tote my bible along with me.
I was thinking about this the other day as one of my classes was discussing privileges in the world that Christians do or don't have. Some of the views from my classmates made it clear that they see Christians either as perfect, or much closer to it than them - causing us to be the 'privileged' group in the debate. Whether or not we're privileged isn't really the point of this, or really my responsibility to decide, but it did make me wonder how I come across to those I come into contact with - regardless of their religion, relationship to me, etc.? Do I let Jesus toss me in his backpack in the morning willingly, or do I stray away because I'm weary of the sheer possibility of highlights and eraser marks from His work?
Friday, August 15, 2014
How College Fits
I was packing for college tonight (I leave tomorrow morning, and no, I didn't start until tonight) and I was thinking that by the time I've done this at least six or seven times, when you count summers and breaks, that it has to start getting easier. I should have figured out by now which hats I wear the most, which pictures go and which ones stay, and all of the other hodge podge things in my room that need a home..but it hasn't gotten any easier. Usually I just sit in the middle of my room with unorganized piles of 'stuff' and hope that all of the necessary items make it to the right city.
My last post on a blog was the original intention I created one - to reflect on time spent in Hong Kong for myself and also for the friends and family that had been asking about my trip. I knew that words on a computer screen could do it no justice, but it was my best shot. I've always loved to write, and people have been telling me I should write for a long time .. especially when my life took a crazy turn a little over two years ago.
My senior year of high school, my faith was in a state of complacency - I knew it was important, but I couldn't really figure out why, so I didn't do much about it. My life had run on a smooth course for 17 years and there was no need for me to be 'clinging' to anything - I had two parents who always knew the answers to my questions, a little sister who doubled as a best friend, and a fantastic group of friends at school. I had a college and intended major nailed down. What else?
Five days after I graduated from high school, one of my friends lost her life to murder. There are absolutely no words to describe the feeling of trying to stand back up on your own to feet after that - especially when I came home for the funeral of a close family friend only five months later - and he had only just turned six.
The journey of healing over the last two years, two months, and twenty days has been filled with everything from pain to anxiety to hope to joy to outright fear. As much as I love to write, God just hasn't given me the words to describe the journey as a whole yet, and I'm not yet ready to try.
Now, bringing myself back to my messy room with organized piles that don't actually mean anything, it isn't the clothes and the shoes that are hard - it's the meaning that my things bring with them.
I picked up the whiffle ball that I got at Brenna's funeral tonight and I was overcome with emotion and doubt. I've never taken it at school. This is my third year and I'm supposed to have college down.. right? I only had to take my stuffed animal my first year because it was okay since Brenna had just died.. right? But I'm past that... right? I'm supposed to be an adult and not need these things.. right? But something inside me wanted to take that whiffle ball and just keep it on my shelf where I could see the words 'Well done, good and faithful servant', and remember Pastor Cogswell's message - maybe until Labor Day, and maybe until May. But after some words with someone who means a lot to me and is older and wiser than I am.. I realized that it's not all about being 'right.' In fact, in the real world, sometimes 'right' doesn't even exist.
I ended up tossing the whiffle ball in the bucket of 'Manhattan' stuff tonight - the combination of the college transition and the grief process (what a combo) has taught me that 'right' and 'healthy' are sometimes very different. It is okay to have that there when I need it. - and I just didn't need it until now. I often need reminded of my value in the eyes of Christ, and that is okay, because - He wants me to know that. So I will keep the ball, and it will remind me not of the death of my friend, but instead, of my eternal purpose, my goal to love others, and God's incredible grace - without a shadow of doubt.
My last post on a blog was the original intention I created one - to reflect on time spent in Hong Kong for myself and also for the friends and family that had been asking about my trip. I knew that words on a computer screen could do it no justice, but it was my best shot. I've always loved to write, and people have been telling me I should write for a long time .. especially when my life took a crazy turn a little over two years ago.
My senior year of high school, my faith was in a state of complacency - I knew it was important, but I couldn't really figure out why, so I didn't do much about it. My life had run on a smooth course for 17 years and there was no need for me to be 'clinging' to anything - I had two parents who always knew the answers to my questions, a little sister who doubled as a best friend, and a fantastic group of friends at school. I had a college and intended major nailed down. What else?
Five days after I graduated from high school, one of my friends lost her life to murder. There are absolutely no words to describe the feeling of trying to stand back up on your own to feet after that - especially when I came home for the funeral of a close family friend only five months later - and he had only just turned six.
The journey of healing over the last two years, two months, and twenty days has been filled with everything from pain to anxiety to hope to joy to outright fear. As much as I love to write, God just hasn't given me the words to describe the journey as a whole yet, and I'm not yet ready to try.
Now, bringing myself back to my messy room with organized piles that don't actually mean anything, it isn't the clothes and the shoes that are hard - it's the meaning that my things bring with them.
I picked up the whiffle ball that I got at Brenna's funeral tonight and I was overcome with emotion and doubt. I've never taken it at school. This is my third year and I'm supposed to have college down.. right? I only had to take my stuffed animal my first year because it was okay since Brenna had just died.. right? But I'm past that... right? I'm supposed to be an adult and not need these things.. right? But something inside me wanted to take that whiffle ball and just keep it on my shelf where I could see the words 'Well done, good and faithful servant', and remember Pastor Cogswell's message - maybe until Labor Day, and maybe until May. But after some words with someone who means a lot to me and is older and wiser than I am.. I realized that it's not all about being 'right.' In fact, in the real world, sometimes 'right' doesn't even exist.
I ended up tossing the whiffle ball in the bucket of 'Manhattan' stuff tonight - the combination of the college transition and the grief process (what a combo) has taught me that 'right' and 'healthy' are sometimes very different. It is okay to have that there when I need it. - and I just didn't need it until now. I often need reminded of my value in the eyes of Christ, and that is okay, because - He wants me to know that. So I will keep the ball, and it will remind me not of the death of my friend, but instead, of my eternal purpose, my goal to love others, and God's incredible grace - without a shadow of doubt.
Sunday, August 3, 2014
Letting Go
One way I've definitely chosen to deal with grief over the last two years is keeping. Keeping everything, that is. Every picture I have with Brenna rests comfortably in a folder on my computer titled with her name on it, most of the pictures of which aren't even good pictures. I have a few things of hers sitting in my room that I haven't found a good place for, graduation cards and pictures that have yet to be gone through two and a half years later... and a ticket stub from a movie from 2011 that was the last movie our group of friends saw together. Together = including her. but my thought process is simply that the longer I put it off, she'd still be there, right?
Last November, God dropped the idea of going to Hong Kong on a mission trip in my lap. One of my best friends called one afternoon and nonchalantly asked if I wanted to go and teach bible school. My initial thought was sure, but that would be so hard with my lack of knowledge of the bible. How am I supposed to teach little kids bible stories I don't even know - let alone little kids that didn't speak English.
As the trip approached, my anxieties rose, but God prepared me for each and every one of them. I learned to go to Him every day with things I was nervous about, and on July 17th, I got on a plane for a 16 hour flight across the world for the first time.
The Hong Kong trip was more than I could have ever imagined - but definitely not how I thought it would be. I had many difficulties with both groups of kids, and I wouldn't say the relationships I formed with any of them was anything to be excited about. I saw my kids get excited during songs, but otherwise, we had trouble getting them to listen, or even understand directions. Each day was a fight of whether or not they were going to listen, and each day my patience was stretched farther and farther. Additionally, I missed two days of bible school due to being sick, further severing my already short relationships with the kids and the helpers. I felt broken hearted halfway through the week knowing that something completely out of my control was keeping me from what I came here to do - or so I thought.
After I had been sick for two days, our team took a day to sight see, which brought my days of absence to a grand total of three days in a row. I was sure that, especially for my younger kids, they would not remember me, and now there was no way I could make a difference in their journey, but when I returned in the afternoon, I was shocked to see Faye's face light up when I walked in the room and how she was glued to my side and wouldn't let go of my hand the rest of the day. God reminded me through a seven year old that He doesn't NEED me in Hong Kong, but it's my pleasure to be here for Him.
The number one thing that Hong Kong taught me was how big My Father's World truly is. Perhaps it was sitting through a church service where I could not understand anything, or going to a grocery store and trying to buy appropriate foods that aligned with my allergies. He taught me that He is in control - I can make as much of a difference in those kids' lives as I am willing to let Him make - and He does not need six days. Even though I missed half of the week and felt, more or less, like I failed to do what God had brought me to Hong Kong to do, I had to understand that it wasn't me that mattered in the situation, and I needed to let go.
Since I've been home, Hong Kong has taken a lot of reflection. I've deleted many pictures on my computer and gone through many of the things in my room - two years overdue. God has taught me that I've been going to things other than Him to survive - whether that be hanging onto old memories or not trusting that it was really His mission in Hong Kong all along, not mine.
Colossians 1:17 "He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together."
Last November, God dropped the idea of going to Hong Kong on a mission trip in my lap. One of my best friends called one afternoon and nonchalantly asked if I wanted to go and teach bible school. My initial thought was sure, but that would be so hard with my lack of knowledge of the bible. How am I supposed to teach little kids bible stories I don't even know - let alone little kids that didn't speak English.
As the trip approached, my anxieties rose, but God prepared me for each and every one of them. I learned to go to Him every day with things I was nervous about, and on July 17th, I got on a plane for a 16 hour flight across the world for the first time.
The Hong Kong trip was more than I could have ever imagined - but definitely not how I thought it would be. I had many difficulties with both groups of kids, and I wouldn't say the relationships I formed with any of them was anything to be excited about. I saw my kids get excited during songs, but otherwise, we had trouble getting them to listen, or even understand directions. Each day was a fight of whether or not they were going to listen, and each day my patience was stretched farther and farther. Additionally, I missed two days of bible school due to being sick, further severing my already short relationships with the kids and the helpers. I felt broken hearted halfway through the week knowing that something completely out of my control was keeping me from what I came here to do - or so I thought.
After I had been sick for two days, our team took a day to sight see, which brought my days of absence to a grand total of three days in a row. I was sure that, especially for my younger kids, they would not remember me, and now there was no way I could make a difference in their journey, but when I returned in the afternoon, I was shocked to see Faye's face light up when I walked in the room and how she was glued to my side and wouldn't let go of my hand the rest of the day. God reminded me through a seven year old that He doesn't NEED me in Hong Kong, but it's my pleasure to be here for Him.
The number one thing that Hong Kong taught me was how big My Father's World truly is. Perhaps it was sitting through a church service where I could not understand anything, or going to a grocery store and trying to buy appropriate foods that aligned with my allergies. He taught me that He is in control - I can make as much of a difference in those kids' lives as I am willing to let Him make - and He does not need six days. Even though I missed half of the week and felt, more or less, like I failed to do what God had brought me to Hong Kong to do, I had to understand that it wasn't me that mattered in the situation, and I needed to let go.
Since I've been home, Hong Kong has taken a lot of reflection. I've deleted many pictures on my computer and gone through many of the things in my room - two years overdue. God has taught me that I've been going to things other than Him to survive - whether that be hanging onto old memories or not trusting that it was really His mission in Hong Kong all along, not mine.
Colossians 1:17 "He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)