The office I’m sharing has a corner shelf full of books. One day while I had some free time I was reading through the titles and found one called, Breathing Under Water: Spirituality and the Twelve Steps by Richard Rohr. Over the past year or so I’ve become kind of obsessed with the 12 steps. I am fascinated by what seems like a radical, hard, true, and slow progression from death to life.

On the last day at Thrive as a student we sat in the supervisor’s office, he at his desk and Arya and I on the couch and chair. I was feeling like I needed some time to process the ending of this experience that had been so oddly impactful. So he said, “What do you wish would’ve been different?” I started to tear up at the unexpected question and the answer that flowed. I said, “I wish I would’ve given more for you.”

Like I wish I would’ve stepped up more and not held so much back. I said it was imbalanced and he said it was supposed to be. I didn’t go into it all, but I knew that I often took the comfortable, easy way of being quiet. Not talking in group, keeping fear in the way. Letting the phone ring, even when it rang countless times in my hand. If I ever get the chance I would do things differently.

I’ve discovered that what keeps pain alive is constant connection to one’s self. It’s easy to see when I am the outsider, and I can sit there and think gosh, I am not going to let these kind of inevitable misunderstandings and hurts take over such control of my life and relationship ever again. But in the moment the pain is real and the requires some kind of delicate handling so as not to carelessly inflict any more.

The same is true for desires, which can become a source of pain for a person, which again continues because of that connection or attachment. The wounds and desires of a person feed off of that person and remain alive in a way that keeps pain ongoing. A friend was telling me about “the Jesus box” that her counselor utilizes in sessions. It sounds completely stupid until you think about it more. I think I like it.

There has to be a healing that can take place, and a cessation of the repetitive hurting. We used to write out our sins on a piece of paper and watch as they burned at the foot of the cross. I understood the concept, but not the impact. The same idea, I think, can be used for grievances. Let’s pause for a moment, write these down, get them off of our chest and out from inside of us where they can be aired and taken away.

There is no rehashing. There is no taking sides. There is no acting as some sort of judge who is going to decide where most of the fault lies. I really think it has to start there, particularly in cases where there is a colossal heap of hurt. And if someone doesn’t like the Jesus box that is fine but the concept and truth is still the same. This is not going to fix or resolve itself while two people are carrying and impacted by pain.

We surrender these things for Jesus to carry so that our flesh is no longer their source of aliveness.

The boys had to dress up for their dinner. The youth group was helping with the Marriage Renewal event being put on by the church. They had well over 25 couples signed up. Before it was time to go I cut my son’s hair which needed trimmed and shaped up. I swept up the trimmings while he went downstairs and got dressed. They both emerged looking handsome and put together.

I would’ve gone myself but I had already told Elianna that we could watch Zorro for the day while she was gone visiting Miles. He hasn’t had any other incidents and I don’t really feel afraid of him. Dad is on his annual NLOMA work trip. He tried and brought it up multiple times for me to go with him. It was hard for me to make a plan and commit. If we were going to go somewhere I wanted it to be when he’d be more free.

I dropped him off at 3:30AM. The local airport is only 10 minutes away from our house. He found a camp friend in Chicago who’d be on the same flight to South Carolina, so that was cool. Some of the guys he used to hang out with have moved on from camp ministry, but they’ve also been replaced with friends like this one who we’ve known since teen years as well as kids who have worked here.

I was up from 2-4 watching Dawson’s Creek videos and reading tributes to the actor who played the lead role. When I would see him throughout the years in this or that social media way, I always thought he was still handsome, even more so as time went on. And as much as you could ever really know a person you’ve never even met, he seemed in real life to be a genuinely kind and humble person, the truest beauty.

Josh gave me a card and orange rose for Valentine’s Day. At least it looked orange to me in the not yet fuller morning light. He said he and my son thought it was yellow. When I saw it I had the vaguest sense that I had seen it before, and I said, “Oh, one of the fake flowers”, thinking it was one of the dried flowers the kids have pinned to their walls from my father-in-law’s funeral. Those were real, so my thought really made no sense.

“Fake?”, he asked strongly, not really offended. For the past twelve hours the rose had been sitting in a jar of water on my dresser. He said he put it there because he didn’t think I would notice it, which I apparently didn’t. I opened the card and laughed through the words, “…sometimes I’m kinda quiet, especially when I’m worried, sometimes I’m just plain stubborn when I think I’m being hurried…” I like the funny, rhyming ones.

And then he signed the card with something I’d never read before, “Thank you for being the love of my life”. Why did that feel so strong and romantic? I started telling him how Dawson’s Creek was just pure romance crack. He used the term teen soap opera which fits well too. It’s no wonder we, okay I, was so high on dock scenes at golden hour. And Katie Holmes was, gosh, so lucky. Her beauty and her kisses with Dawson and Pacey.

I never liked Joey (Katie) and Pacey together. Or Dawson and Jen and whatever love interests they introduced along the way to keep things going. At the time, Dawson and Joey had it all. The friendship, the proximity, the unconditional and timeless acceptance and love. My mind flashes back at times and remembers things I rarely think about. The letters, cards, and gifts on note cards I have never redeemed. I have always been loved.

I woke up in the middle of the night and made somewhat of a (for lack of a better term) Freudian slip. It was one of those things where something I said was bothering me, like something inside was stirring me up and saying, “think that over”. I sat up and it was one of those moments where I knew that I was supposed to talk to God about this. At that point out of nowhere I said, “Lord, heal my prayer”. I didn’t mean to say it like that.

It was just how my tongue kind of stumbled through the words in a half awake moment. But then I kept saying it and kind of like that prayer now.

It was a good day at Hope. My license finally went through this past week so that was the last thing I was waiting on in order to be fully official and done with the hoop jumping. That felt really good to have done.

My body and mind are still in a swirl from the changes. Yesterday I had three couple sessions along with two individual ones. I’m finding four to five sessions a day to be the current sweet spot, and preferably never more than four in a row. The expectation at Hope is that I will eventually average 18 sessions a week. That isn’t even possible right now because of the office space situation. I think they should have a lesser option.

Meaning an option where people could average 12-15 sessions a week, or even 10-12. With three women now who are pregnant and planning on taking maternity leave, I feel like it might be a better option for the women who might want to cut back on their hours once the babies are born. This would not be as big of a deal if I was not also trying to keep space or a day for the people at Thrive. I really enjoy my people there.

The older clients, as in the ones I’ve seen for longer, seem almost effortless compared to the new ones I’m seeing. There’s something about having to start all over, which I wouldn’t have anticipated and am learning as I go. I still really love the familiarity of Thrive while I am also really enjoying the newness and expansion of opportunities at Hope. I like that I’ve been able to jump right into gaining hours and more experience.

I just need the exhaustion to start to ease up. I feel like I’m back in that place where it’s my full time job to take care of myself. It’s fine to a point, but there are still people here who need food, attention, and a wife and mother who is functioning. I guess there is a part of me that does just need to be thankful that they can all self-manage and are fine just hanging out with each other, the guys. I just miss them and time keeps on passing.

My aunt has one of those sayings that goes something like, “If He leads you to it, He’ll lead you through it”. It’s a thought and attitude I return to and it brings me peace to be there. One of the clients from today got me thinking about what it would look like to do therapy intensives with individuals. You could spend a day or several hours doing therapy with one person which would allow for greater progress without all the breaks.

Josh came into the room and said not to ruin your day, but did you hear that James Van Der Beek died? I hadn’t. He had seen and told me the news that he had terminal cancer but that was several weeks ago. He’d already told me earlier in the week that the lead singer from 3 Doors Down had also died from a strange cancer at the age of 48. That was sad too since these were people from our youth, and of course, real life people.

Before that, I’d spent the day at Hope, came home briefly for supper, and then went back out to meet with a friend who I hadn’t seen in a while. It was time for a catch up. Something about this woman was meant to draw out my callings and I love the way we are able to talk so freely with each other. We made plans to read a book together called Unwanted: How Sexual Brokenness Reveals Our Way to Healing by Jay Stringer.

I have read it before and thought I remembered liking it but bought the paperback version recently to read again as a refresher before starting at Hope. I just haven’t gotten to it yet. Recently I was trying to figure out where the interest for this topic comes from and I really couldn’t think of any kind of a story, at first. I think it goes back to being young and having questions and wanting to know how to handle my passions.

So that would be part of it, but the other part is simply just seeing the need. People need to be able to talk about these parts of their life for the purpose of finding greater peace and healing from whatever it is that is disturbing, disrupting, or torturing them.

February is such a pretty month. I love the pastels in the sky. I’m hitting a dry spell with these blogs where I don’t really know what to write. My mind these days is pretty much taken up with thinking about clients and my own relationships. My sister recently announced a save the date for an October wedding this year. She met a nice guy and they’ve been together for a little while. They aren’t engaged yet but likely will be soon.

My son has his own news that he’s been starting to reveal. I figure I’m going to wait another week for the ultrasound before I start saying anything. They had one last month but you just never know with these things. Today was the 100th day of school so Josh went out in the early morning to pick up 100 of the mini bites from Dunkin Donuts. I said I’d do it if he woke up and wasn’t feeling up to it but he was out before I was up.

I think he’s starting to feel better now. Him and my son hung out and watched shows while I painted another wall in the dining room and did some other miscellaneous things. I still am not feeling the greatest myself but I just have to keep moving. Elianna came over since it was such a nice day and gave Zorro a change of scenery to play outside. After that we went to the store. The dining room is disheveled but it won’t be forever.

Today was a much needed “me” day. If I had never been a mom I don’t think I would’ve ever truly understood the meaning behind the phrase “you cannot pour from an empty cup”. You have to have time to replenish yourself and recharge your sensitive batteries. If I am not able to do this I simply am not able to function or be productive at an optimal level of capacity. It takes a lot of time for me to recharge after depleting myself.

So I walk down the road and flap my arms in the air like they’re wings because it feels good to do so. And then I rest because I’m tired. The paint color I had ended up being a few shades too light so I had to go back and ask if they could darken the tint. The man at the counter was not happy that I was asking this. It seemed to be a major hassle that I could not understand. But he doubled the color drops and now the color is what I wanted. The picture I’d seen was darker than the actual shade.

Dad is sick now with the flu. He gets dressed and puts on his shoes and does all the same things that way except he sits up and sleeps on the couch. I asked if he was going to keep on his shoes and he said yes because it’s warmer that way. We all have to do what need to do to manage our sufferings. I’m painting because one of the boys mentioned the incompletion in the dining room from 2017 or 18. I’ve just felt inspired to try again with it.

I heard the birds this morning again. The concert went well and I actually feel better and less tired than I did the day before. The boys had a youth group event in Auburn as they have started with the fundraising for the next national youth gathering. The woman who runs the youth group there is just always going. It makes my brain hurt just to think about all the things she organizes and plans. She’s a very wonderful lady.

My will has sort of taken a hit when I was mildly derailed by an emotional setback. It can take 2-4 weeks for me to recover when that happens and I continue to be amazed by the loss of personal productivity that occurs for these reasons. I was sitting in the Auburn pew watching all the nameless faces lining up for communion. I turned to Laura’s mom and asked, “Do you know all these people?” She smiled and said yes.

Sometimes I think church is one of those things where I think I have accepted that it’s never going to be the church I had when I was five. The kids served breakfast after church so that was nice. I liked sitting at the table with everybody. We came home and I stayed in bed until about an hour before we left to watch the Super Bowl at Grandma’s. I brought stuff to do but ended up being okay with the game and company.