Truth Poem

Truth sits like a rock at the pit of my stomach. Like a caged bird I want to set it free, set me free. But shame, fear and guilt keep me from sticking my fingers down my throat and inducing truth-telling. I know it's these secrets that feed off my shame, fear and guilt. I'm so hungry for the nourishment of healing and intimacy, yet gorge on junk food.

I want to wrestle through this to the other side. I don't want to stay stuck in this mud of shame, fear and guilt. I'm afraid, if I talk about it, people will throw mud in my face and then I will sink even deeper in this quicksand of silence. I want to jump off the high-dive & swim naked in the clear, clean, cool water of truth. But I can't swim. And I will not jump unless you push me.

in my heart is a hunger I will never give away

Are you hungry? I'm not talking about a physical hunger but a relational hunger, a spiritual-psychological-emotional hunger. The title of this post is a lyric from a song by Joseph Arthur. It got me thinking about the hunger of my heart. The frustrating thing about hunger is that it always comes back! You fill yourself and for awhile the hunger goes away but soon, there's a rumbling in your heart & the hunger pangs demand your attention again.

What do you do with your hunger? Do you feed your heart on junk food that only lead to craving for more of the same? Do you starve yourself for as long as you can only to eventually give your heart away to any and everyone in hopes that someone will fill you and take away your emptiness?
When you're hungry, what are you hungry for? Connection, comfort, love, touch, rest, laughter, forgiveness? Make a commitment to yourself today to protect your heart, to protect your hunger. And seek out those things that will bring nourishment and energy to your heart, rather than fill you up with empty calories.

Letting myself fall

I spent my Sunday afternoon at the beach with a good book. It was very pleasurable & time flew by. This coming week, the calendar marks the end of summer and the beginning of fall. But today, the day was holding onto summer. The sky was cloudless; the sun was bright; the air was filled with a cool breeze. The waves were constant as always.
After reading for awhile, I decided to lie on the sand and take a nap. I lay there for a few minutes and could feel my body relaxing. I didn’t realize how tense I had been. I didn’t realize how tired I was feeling. I was still & silent enough to feel my breathing & I took a couple deep breaths – breaths from my gut & felt my body relax even more. While my body was relaxing more and more, my mind was struggling against it. Why am I resisting this? The sand feels so good between my toes, the warm sun on my skin. It feels so good to just let go... to rest...
"Remember this feeling", I tell myself, "you don’t let yourself feel this very often."
I struggle to rest. I struggle to take in good things. Perhaps we all do to some extent. For myself, I have found, I struggle because resting & feeling pleasure usually connect me to myself – to some aspect of my body and/or my heart & at times, this has been painful. At times my body has felt sore & tired; my heart sad & lonely, or worse, numb. So my first instinct is to resist what I fear my body and heart will reveal.
For whatever reason, today was different. Today I let go & fell into rest. And I didn't feel pain; I felt gratitude for being alive; I felt peace. I knew that what I was experiencing was rare for me; I knew that at some point, I’d have to get up & leave the beach & it would be over. I knew that tomorrow morning, I'd be back to another week of work, where rest is even more rare. Yet in that moment, I chose to sink deeper. I chose to receive with my hands open rather than fight it or try to hang onto it with closed fists.
And now that the afternoon is over, the evening is winding down, & I'm preparing for my week ahead, I wouldn’t have missed my afternoon at the beach for anything. It may be over but I'm changed because of it. I come to the end of the weekend more rested & more able to face the week ahead.
Change is inevitable, and loss, even though it feels so unnatural when it happens to us, we know is a natural part of life. How then will we live? Will we deprive ourselves & go without because pleasure is so fleeting & we can never get enough? Or will we allow ourselves to really be in this moment, in this relationship, in this season as it comes, knowing that we can’t always hold onto it; knowing that we can’t always control what’s right around the bend; knowing that we may be left wanting & longing when enjoyment is over?
Will we allow good things into our life that will connect us to our body and our heart? When pleasure is what we're afraid of, we will miss out on the very things that will nourish our hearts and body - the simple pleasure of giving of ourselves, of enjoying & being enjoyed, of loving & letting ourselves be loved. Simple... but sometimes oh so scary to give & receive.

counseling-phobia

I'm convinced, the # 1 reason people don't seek counseling is fear. Not because they can't afford it; not because they don't have time. Because it is scary. Well, yes, it can be. That fear isn't necessarily irrational. It is scary to face our truth, to look at ourselves, to explore our hearts and relationships and share the stories of our life in the face of another. You're stretched; you shed dead skin. It's normal to be apprehensive.

I view the counseling process as a relationship. And choosing to enter into any relationship is scary. Particularly a relationship that holds up a mirror for you, that seeks out your heart, that requires honesty and authenticity and invites you to more. Counseling can be a time of reflecting, letting go, grieving, changing, growing & healing. It can also be a time of great exploration, discovery, play & laughter.

The truth is, it takes real courage and strength to take that first step towards health and healing... to ask for help, to desire more for your life, your relationships, and your future. And, you don't have to be in crisis to benefit from professional help. In fact, it's much easier to work on your problems before you hit the crisis level. There is no problem too big or too small when it comes to counseling. Prevention and maintenance can go a long way. Just see how long your car will last if you skimp on oil changes. How much more important is your heart and your relationships? Decide today not to let fear hold you back, in all aspects of your life. Whether it's your career, your relationships, pursuing your dreams, or talking with a counselor.

labor day weekend reflection

We went to Chicago for Labor Day Weekend to visit some friends who just had a baby. Sunday afternoon I was delighted to take the baby for a walk around the neighborhood. It was a beautiful, sunny, cool day. I had her in one of those carriers you strap to the front of your body so the baby gets to face outward to see all the light and shadow and color and movement that we adults take for granted, that we barely notice anymore. Oh to have the eyes of a child again, to see everything anew and fresh... As we walked, and crossed streets and walked through sprinklers and past barking dogs, I realized how protective I felt for this 3-month old. She isn't even my baby and yet I would give my life for her if need be. And the thought occurred to me, how much more so, does our Heavenly Father love us and yearn to protect us, His children, His very creation? Even though I know this to be true in the depths of my being, as soon as I thought the thought, I was wrestling with doubt.

As a counselor, I hear a lot of gut-wrenching, heart-breaking stories. Stories of loss, abuse, injustice, struggle, and pain. I walk with people through these stories and some days more than others, find myself wrestling with questions of faith and trust and purpose. Where were you God? How could you let this happen? Why didn't you interfere? Why didn't you do anything and everything to protect your child from harm, neglect, abuse, loss, etc.? I don't know what to do with those questions, except to continue to wrestle with them and bring them to God. There are no easy, black & white answers.

Perhaps it's instinct that filled me with this great desire to protect my friend's baby. What's harder, and less natural, is letting go. Perhaps the biggest (and hardest) thing to learn as a parent is letting go; and letting go more and more each step of the way: loving, teaching, protecting, preparing, and letting go. There are times, we can't protect our children. There are times we are away from our children when they experience disappointment, hurt, and fear. Letting go, especially those things that are truly important, is never easy. In fact it usually feels downright agonizing, as if a part of you is being ripped from you. Would it not also be agonizing for God to let go of His children, particularly those who are hurting? We can't know the when or why or how of his decisions to intervene or to hold Himself back? The Bible says that God loved us so much He gave up His Son for us. He didn't intervene when the soldiers were beating Jesus, mocking him and hanging him on a cross to die. God didn't intervene when Jesus went to hell and back for us. He didn't intervene for the greater good, for the bigger picture that so often we can't see when we're in the midst of great suffering. Can you picture God, in anguish, ripped apart, holding himself back when we're suffering? For a greater good we're not yet aware of? I have to believe this and trust this to be true. After all, parents have to stand by and watch their children cry in fear and pain during routine vaccinations. And they do this to protect them. To keep them from this momentary pain could do them more harm in the long run. Yet when I think about the Holocaust, 9/11, and client's stories of abuse and loss, when I can't believe and it hurts too much, I keep bringing my questions, my anger, my fears, my sorrow, my heavy burdens to God.

When we look back on the stories of our own lives, we may remember scenes of abuse, loss, neglect, and disappointment where we wonder why God didn't show up; times He felt absent or angry or worse, indifferent. Where do you see Him in those scenes? Is He in the other room, reading the newspaper & drinking coffee while you're screaming in the next room? Is he hiding out in the hallway, peeking in through a crack in the door? Is He standing over You fiercely & accusatory while you're lying on the floor in a fetal position? Is He no where to be found? Or, is He there, right beside you, holding your hand, whispering that you will get through this and He will not leave you. Is He crying with you, struggling within himself to hold back? We can be assured, there will be a day of God's vengeance and justice. Until then, today, I believe we can experience & receive glimpses and tastes of a greater healing, redemption, and restoration to come.