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Monthly Archives: July 2011

CAUTION: HARD HATS REQUIRED IN THIS AREA

I feel like I have a ton of things to say, yet I am having problems finding words.  My heart hurts for those unhealed places in those I love.  That much I know.  My heart hurts for those screaming at the top of their lungs for whatever it is they need, and nobody hears them.  My heart hurts for those violently waving flags for rescue, and nobody sees them.  The results of not being heard or seen are detrimental to the very foundation we are built upon.  Being ignored causes cracks and buckles in that foundation which then does not allow for a steady homestead, so to speak.  “For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ.”  How is there anything strong enough to rattle that foundation?  I do not have an answer for that, but I know that there is.  The devil himself causes those cracks.  This is not meant to be some religious rant.  I would be the last person to do that.  I just see how the cracks widen, deepen, become more dangerous when they are ignored (unseen, unheard).  One has to pay attention to them, work on them, repair them to make whatever is sitting upon it safer, more stable.

The last few days that I have worked with children, there is one little boy who is eight years old who has cracks so deep and wide the Grand Canyon could hardly compare.  Already at eight years old that little boy’s foundation is crumbling, has crumbled.  His anger, outrage, is off the charts.  Last night his anger was out of control, and there was a code called.  I went to see if I could be of assistance to anyone, and I really knew in my heart that it was him before I got there.  It was.  I went into his room with him and was talking with him.  Note:  “talking WITH him” and not AT him as everyone else had been.  Yes, he has been in a lot of trouble since hospitalized, but he is a little boy, lost and afraid.  I sat and talked with him calmly.  I asked him if I could see the stuffed toy snake he was holding which seemed to have been the “reason” for this outbreak.  He calmly and willingly handed it to me.  We talked some, and he rested himself on his bed while we talked.  I asked him if he would like for me to read a book to him, and he nodded and partially covered himself with a blanket and a sheet.  I watched his eyelids growing heavy and his little body growing more tired.  I finished the story, and he asked if I would read him another one.  I was honored to read to him again.  He asked for some lemonade while I was reading, and I went to get him some.  He drank it and put his head back on the pillow.  I continued to read and watch his eyes close slowly for short times and slowly open back up.  I completed the story, went over to him, tucked him in, told him goodnight, and lowered another light in the room.  All that little boy needed was for someone to listen to him, see him.  He will continue to need that for the rest of his life – as we all do.  I hope he will have someone who is willing to do that.  Just one person is all it takes sometimes.

I had no problems sitting with him, reading to him even though it had been 20 minutes since I was supposed to be off of work.  I went back to the office I was in to finish entering notes, and I left work feeling sad for that little boy.  I know that his foundation needs to be worked on to the point of tearing it all up, and repairing, re-pouring it to make things stable.   He needs a “Carpenter” for this concrete pour.

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Posted by on July 16, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

Choices

So how many people have to tell me that they are concerned with my capabilities at particular points before I get it?  I suppose I could choose to look at it as if I am kidding myself, or I can choose to look  closer at what they are saying and let it soak in.  The Liar wants me to see that I am kidding myself.  The Truth wants me to look at it, hear it, listen to it, pay attention to it, and use it for my own good.  You would think the choice would be a simple one to make.  Do you know what that feels like?  I know you do.  What it feels like to me is being in quicksand, and the more I struggle, the quicker I sink.  The hand reaching out to help me is inches away, and I cannot grasp it because I am struggling on my own believing I can do it myself.  That is a lie.  I cannot do it myself.  So, what are my options?  I can stop struggling and accept the help that is being offered to me, or I can choose to continue to sink.  I do not want to sink.  The only thing left is to choose the hand that is reaching for me, wanting to help me out.  Taking that hand means I step back and look inside myself.  Again, there is a mirror I have to see.  I do not like that mirror right now, but I have made a promise that I choose not to break.  I choose to grab onto the hand reaching for me.

 
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Posted by on July 12, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

Permission

This morning during work in a children’s’ and adolescents’ mental health unit, a 14-year-old boy stated, “A human can’t be human without pain.”  At fourteen, this young man throws this out there.  I, for one, was dumbstruck with awe at the statement itself.  I believe he said that to give himself permission to feel pain, anger, sadness, and any other emotion that came up.  Again, at fourteen, this young man understands this.  So, I wonder why we, as adults, fight that humanity.  Pain is not fun; however, it is a part of life.  Many levels of pain exists on many different scales.  Many people I know deal with emotional pain and heartache on a daily basis.  Pain that nobody else sees just by glancing as they pass by on a crowded sidewalk or even as they stare right at them across the dinner table.  The emotional scars caused by emotional pain.  Nobody is allowed to see those unless the scarred individual chooses for one to know.  Later this afternoon, I witnessed the anger of a woman who had emotional scars so very deep they began to build upon each other.  All of her pain had come out as anger until I asked her who hurt her as a child.  She looked me right in the with a shocked expression and stated that it was probably her mother because her mother sold her when she was a baby.  Her emotional pain, those scars became apparent to everyone in that room.  That took courage for one trying to behave so tough, so hard.

Those events today hit me hard in my heart.  I started thinking about how we allow ourselves, as adults, to continue being victimized by fear, by feelings of unworthiness, by feelings of loneliness, and by feelings of being unloved.  As we do this, we also allow shame and guilt to control other lies in our heads.  We never asked to be victimized or treated poorly in any certain way as children.  We were supposed to be loved and looked after and seen.  All anyone had to do was look.  Look into your children’s eyes.  What do you see?  I do not have the answer to that question because I can only see my own children.  I do see them.  I give them permission to feel, to speak, to be afraid, to be angry, and I always have.  Due to a most recent thing I read from someone in my past, I started thinking about what I was given permission to do.  Without boring you with details, I will say it was not a lot.  It was surely unlike what I have mentioned allowing for my children.  Reading it caused me pain, and I allowed myself to feel that pain.  I still feel it, actually.  Confronting the person who wrote it would only cause more scarring of what is already on my heart and in my soul.

I suppose my point in this whole thing is that we are humans.  We will feel pain, and that is not a bad thing all the time.  We must question what we plan to do with that pain.  It is hard to let go of.  It may feel impossible as it has become somewhat of a security blanket for so many years.  I plan on working on this.  I plan on helping others work on this as well.  It all has to start with one thing.  It is one thing that seems so easily obtained from ourselves, yet it is so far out of reach sometimes.  That one thing we need to obtain from ourselves?  Permission.  Permission to allow that “security blanket” to be thrown into the incinerator where it belongs.  There are multiple other things to cling to for survival, safety, and comfort.  What you choose for that to be is just that, your choice.  Be courageous enough to give yourself that permission.  You are worthy of being set free of that pain.    So am I.

 
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Posted by on July 4, 2011 in Uncategorized

 
 
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