A Hot Sidewalk, A Lost Dog, A Young Girl & A Man Of Honor

The last few weeks have been quite the ride (heck, if I'm being honest - when hasn't our life been like that?) and I wanted to give a public shout out to the guy standing beside me. We have definitely had quite the journey to get to where we are and I know there's much, much more to come. I'm grateful for his belief in my me and my abilities, the way he sees how things "can be" and how when we work together we really can create those dreams and his never-wavering drive to do more, be more and seek for more. When you hear those cute little sayings about marriage being a "team effort"?  Absolutely. 

This afternoon, as he's working on setting up a computer upstairs & I'm organizing, sorting, creating and cleaning downstairs, we took a few minutes to sit down at the table and talk. We're sitting there, all the dogs up and down this road are going nuts and I glance towards the front window and see a dog's tail sticking up in the air next to our rose bush. "Ugh...someone's dog is out front." He goes out to see whose it is and chase it off if need be. As soon as he opens the door, I hear his tone of voice change and a gentle "Is that your doggy? What's your doggy's name? Was he lost?" And he shuts the door behind him.

Maybe 2 minutes pass and I walk out to see what's going on. I see him, dressed only in a pair of shorts - no shirt, no shoes - holding the collar of a young German Shepherd, slightly bent over, talking and walking with a little girl. I smile to myself and walk down to the mailbox. By the time I get to the mailbox my bare feet are on fire - it's 92 degrees outside. I turn and see my honey, the dog and this little girl turning the corner still walking and talking. 

By the time I got back in the house, grabbed my keys, got in the car and took off after them they were one house away from hers. Dog & girl returned safely, husband with burning feet retrieved.

That little girl was 2, maybe 3 years old. She was a cute little blonde thing who had obviously been playing in her front yard with her young dog that didn't listen very well yet. It's hot outside so she was in a bathing suit and no shoes either. When her doggy took off, she took off after him and ended up in our front yard almost 2 blocks away. The road in front of our house may be a 20 mph an hour road, but most people don't drive nearly that slow. There was an unmarked delivery van a couple of houses down (I did see him carrying a package out, but that just as easily could have been a bad guy). So many things could have gone terribly wrong for her this afternoon. All that sweet girl knew was her dog took off and she needed to get him.

As I was sitting here afterwards, replaying all of it in my head I was so overwhelmed with gratitude for the man I married. He didn't have to do what he did, but without second-guessing what the right thing to do was, he did it. He could have done nothing, he could have handed her the dog's collar and sent her on her way, he could have got her across this road and left her to go the rest of the way on her own. Those thoughts never even crossed his mind. She was on her own, she was upset and she needed a hero. 

These moments, friends, are those gentle reminders of what being a good person, a person of honor and integrity is about. It's not about saying the right things, or acting a certain way in front of people - it's all about what we say and do when no one is watching. That's what defines goodness. I'm grateful for that man and who he is. 

If Only Someone Had Warned Them...

As this day begins, I can't help but feel a tremendous sense of sadness for my former co-workers. For roughly the last 5 days, about 25% of the texts or messages I'm getting from you guys are about the 'Rona. This person has it, that person has all the symptoms, so-and-so's kids are getting it, I'm getting tested...and on and on.

Friends, I tried. 

My raising the alarms was never SOLELY about me and my family, although they were certainly my number 1 concern. It wasn't safe for any of us and I knew that. It was that knowledge that isn't just "common sense" or "reasonable".  It was a prompting, an urgency, that came from an unseen power that was telling me I needed to make a stand. Whether you believe in a Higher Power that sends direction and guidance or not, I don't know. I've seen it happen too many times in my life to believe anything other than that. I'm not religious, but I am spiritual and I listen. That "voice" has saved me more times than I can count and I know better than to ignore it.

Did I think I'd get fired for speaking truth? No. Would I do it again? Yes. Right is always right, no matter how others paint it or change the story.

As I see so many of you struggling I can't help but be struck by how wholly avoidable this whole fiasco was. Those of you with compromised immune systems, those of you caring for aging and disabled family members, those of you who are just miserable, those of you with little ones...it didn't have to be this way. Yet here we are. 

Rather, here you are. Today is my 14th day away from there so my period of concern is ending but yours is running forward at full speed. My antibody test was negative so, even though I was horribly sick for two months, it was apparently not the 'Rona. My fears were, without question, more than justified. 

I am sorry so many of you are suffering needlessly. I am sorry that someone's pride was too loud to listen to the one voice who was speaking up. I'm not sorry I stood up for what I knew to be true and right though because that's likely the very thing that is sparing my family. (Knock on wood)

My thoughts and prayers are with each of you and your families. 

The Poison Pen Awakens

I have much to say, much to share, much to disclose. Let me preface all of this by stating at the outset that I was not strong-armed into signing any kind of non-disclosure nor was my silence used as leverage against any money that is due me (as typically happens). My silence has not been forced or bought and paid for. My words, as always, are mine and I will speak. For legal reasons, I will not name names but they know who they are. As do many of you.

A special note to my friends that remain working there, I am touched by the number of you (friends, co-workers, former co-workers, family, even acquaintances) that have reached out privately to express anger, frustration, shock and fear over what has transpired. Most of you realize that you are living under a microscope and being stalked on all forms of social media too. If you do not realize that, please know that it is true. There is a snake in the garden whose purpose is to stalk people for their words, their posts, their perceived thoughts, their “likes” and to cause whatever manner of discord they can. Whether that is an errand given by someone who doesn’t have that access or sense of anonymity or if that is a self-appointed position, it exists. I would encourage all of you to communicate privately but use the utmost caution doing anything on social media. Yes, your time and your thoughts ARE your own, but they are still being manipulated and will be used against you by someone of lower moral fiber. Someone who uses the guise of a “concerned co-worker” is anything but. There is something in it for them and their judgmental self-imposed superiority has nothing altruistic in its nature at all.

I am also very much aware that, as always happens, this has been and will continue to be spun for the preservation of the face of the company. They will say whatever they need to in order to justify their wrongdoings, but the truth doesn’t change. I know the truth, they know the truth and guess what? The man upstairs knows the truth too and His memory supersedes all of our earthly recollections. As you sow in life, you shall reap. Vengeance is not mine to enact, nor shall I, but know that your reward awaits you at the hands of one mightier and more powerful than any of us. Will you lie to His face too? Spin it how you will, but this is the truth and I absolutely know I could stand face to face with my maker and proclaim it to be.

We are all very much aware of the current situation in the world as far as this pandemic goes. I have shared more than once my concerns, my very legitimate concerns. I have underlying health conditions that make me high risk and also present me with the unique place of being one of the ones in the “more likely to die from it” category. Those risks also exist in my family. We are a high risk household. We have all been horribly sick over the last several months, but it’s not known with what. Could it have been Covid? Sure. Was it? I don’t know. Once you’ve had it can you catch it again? Mmmm…”probably” not but that’s something they’re starting to question. Is there more than one strand of it? Yes. Will having one protect you from the other? Yeah…again…don’t know. There are a lot of unknowns still.

From March up until last Monday, I worked from home. Everything I do in the office, I could do from the safety of my home. In fact, nearly everyone felt like they were being much more productive and efficient in their work as they worked from home. This feeling wasn’t unique to me.

Did I have concerns about returning to the office? You bet I did. Justifiable ones. Did the company say all the right things? Sure. Did they do the deep cleaning they assured us they did? The layer of dirt and dust all over my desk and overhead cabinet say no, but they said so. Okay. Was the cleaning of the common surfaces done as often as they promised? No – unless it was an employee cleaning up after themselves or seeing something that needed attention. Heck, the floor hadn’t even been vacuumed. The fuzzball next to my chair mat that was there when I set up my desk the afternoon of 6/12 was still there when I left 6/18. (Could I have picked it up? Yes but I was testing a theory.)

Again, legitimate concerns.

Scroll back to my first day in the office (Monday, June 15^th). First day back was hard for every single person in that office (except the rat maybe). I did what so many others have done and expressed my feelings on my own time, on my own Facebook page. Bullet points of what I shared from that day:
          - High Anxiety
          - Lack of Sleep
          - Raging Headache
           - Loads of Emails
          - Cold, Rainy, Gloomy Day
          - One of my first calls is a customer that drives all us crazy and she just wanted to scream
          - Missing my honey, my kids & my fuzzy socks
          - Construction crew hits a gas line and the building is evacuated
          - All of this before 11

Apparently a “concerned co-worker” took that post to my supervisor and manager and I got called in over it on Wednesday at the end of my shift. Among a litany of offenses they found in it (bear in mind neither of them have access to my posts):
          - I’m miserable
          - I hate my job
          - I hate the customers and they’re suffering for it
          - I am incapable of being anything other than negative
          - I never ever see the glass as half-full (I can’t tell you how much I detest that analogy in any form – the glass is re-fillable, it’s neither half-empty or half-full)
          - I hate my life
          - I want to jump off a building
          - I need counseling

There was more to it, obviously, but that’s the bare bones of it. You can probably imagine my incredulousness at the whole discussion. This was obviously precipitated by someone who doesn’t know me. At all.

There were a lot of things that were discussed that were, quite frankly, none of their business. I did point that out and was told that when it impacts my work it IS their business. Of course, when I asked for specific examples they back peddled and didn’t have any. It was a witch-hunt from the outset and I knew it. I stood up for myself, I defended my right to my feelings, my right of expression and I didn’t apologize or grovel at anyone’s feet as was expected of me. (If you’ve been there awhile and had any of those “conversations” you know the appropriate response is to grovel at someone’s feet while reaching up to kiss their ass. Sadly, I’ve got a bad knee and have never developed a taste for ass.)

The one thing I wish I had handled better in that situation was when I was asked very personal questions about things that they legally can’t ask about. Here I am, in a small office with a shut door, a manager and a supervisor being questioned and asked to defend myself. The act, in and of itself, is confining, suppressing and isolating. At no time did I feel safe enough to stand up and walk out that door. When I was asked about my health problems and those of my family, I answered. I wish I hadn’t. Legally they CANNOT do that. When they asked, point blank, if my child that suffers with anxiety and depression is medicated and seeing a counselor, I should have walked out. I was floored. What in the bloody hell gives them the right to demand an answer to that (remember the situation I’m sitting in – that scene is not one anyone can safely walk away from)? Demand an answer, they did. Had I known then how things would transpire, I would have told them to eff off and walked out the door.

An hour later, I emerged from interrogation absolutely stunned that they feel like they have the right to question anyone like that. You don’t pay me enough to buy control over my thoughts, my feelings or my right to express that.

The next day, Thursday, right before my shift ends I get a message that asks if I have about 5 minutes before I leave so they can “wrap up” yesterday’s conversation.

I got pulled into one of the “real” meeting rooms and was “let go.” Among other things, I asked for an explanation and was met with a lot of stumbling over words and a “the decision has been made”. Among the litany of offenses stated above, I wasn’t making any efforts to change or progress. I asked for a letter listing those offenses and was told no. I was offered a letter of termination if that was what I wanted. I said no, I wanted a letter outlining their reasons. Mister calm, cool and collected lost his composure and said “I won’t do it. I won’t put it in writing.” Hmmm…okay. “That’s because you don’t have any real reasons” was my accurate response. I did make sure to let him know that the entire “leadership team” is made up of hypocrites (yes, even those of you reading this now). You sit on these high thrones in glass towers leveling out platitudes about virtue, honor, integrity, honesty and you are completely incapable of living those very things. When you have to rely on spies, half-truths and deceit to justify your actions the fault lies in you, not me.

Life is funny. We find those very things that we seek. If you look for wrong, you find it. If you look for good, you find it. If you look for truth, you find it. If you look for ways to purge a company of irreplaceable employees that stand up for themselves and their rights, you find that too. Tell me this though…when you look in a mirror of truth, what do you see? I see a clean conscience. I bet you can’t say the same.

You can contrive situations, you can make up stories and lies to justify your actions, you can do whatever you want but you cannot change the truth. Lies to cover up lies build up and eventually that house of lies comes crashing down.

I am NOT the first person this has happened to, nor will I be the last. There are a whole lot of amazing people that have walked this road before me away from this cultish, toxic company and have found absolute purpose and joy in the freedom. As I started out on this road Thursday, I wasn’t sad. I was mad as hell (still am because it was wholly unjustified, discriminatory and sexist) but I’m fine. My worth was never, ever tied to that company or the people there. My worth is, as it always has been, on my shoulders. I walk away knowing that I am a better person, I am worth more than they know, I am valuable and they will never be able to fill my spot with anyone who has even a fraction of the knowledge and capabilities I do.

All of the brow-beating and belittling that is done to women in that company has never worked on me and never would have. Perhaps that is what was to be my undoing, but I’m okay with that. This is a company that is completely patriarchal in nature and both degrades and devalues women. They pay them less, treat them worse and keep a few close ones at hand so it doesn’t look like the sexism is there from the outside, but it is. My outspoken, educated, well-versed, strong nature was intimidating and it couldn’t be beaten out of me. I will never apologize for those very traits that help form my divine nature.

For the last almost 7 years, you paid me a wage to do a job. That doesn’t mean you get to own me. Your belief that everything a person says and does (either inside work or outside) is your concern is ludicrous. You are not Jim Jones, this is not Jonestown and I have always hated Kool-Aid.

As I close this door with my head held high, I’m at peace with it.

Working After The 'Rona

Without question, this is perhaps the weirdest time in history any of us have lived through. So many things over the last few months have felt strange, bizarre, unfamiliar and at times scary. As we are seemingly approaching the end of the pandemic and ensuing lockdown, (my thoughts on that on a different day) life is returning to normal. Some semblance of normal anyway.

Today is not the day to debate the ‘Rona. Today we’re talking about what comes next. To do that though, we have to look at what the last 3 months have been like at least in some part.

How have you spent the last 3 months? Did you continue to get up and go to work every day? Did you find yourself without a job? Were you, like me, one of the ones lucky enough to be working from home? I am thankful beyond words that I have been able to work from home. Had I not had that opportunity afforded me, I absolutely know I would have lost my job.

To understand now, we need to take a step back about 6 months. It was about 6 months ago that everyone around was sick. It was one thing after another and as soon as something seemed to ebb away, something else was right behind it. I don’t even know how many times we took the kids to the doctor between December and February. It seemed like they had the flu (tired, achy, feverish) but the cough…it just didn’t stop. “It’s a cold” “It’s going around” “It’ll run it’s course in about 3-4 weeks” Over and over and over and over! By the end of February they were finally feeling better.

Then March happened. Within a matter of about 10 days my mom was in the ER with pneumonia (diagnosed by a physical exam and a lung x-ray), Dad had Influenza B, Vance went down hard with what looked like the flu for several days and then I got it too. Boom, boom, boom, boom!

I can’t adequately describe what this sickness was like. I’m asthmatic so lung issues are nothing new to me, but this was bad. It was like a weird hybrid of pneumonia, asthma attacks and that one time I had mono. I’d lay down and I honestly felt like I was drowning. For about 2 months I fought this stuff. I could barely make it out of bed some days. Vance and the boys brought all of my work stuff home and set up an office upstairs in the bedroom. I started to finally feel better about a month ago, but my lungs are not fully recovered and I don’t know if they ever will be. I get winded so easily still. To say I would have lost my job is no exaggeration. I couldn’t have taken 2 months off, I didn’t even have enough PTO left to take 3 days off.

Did we have the ‘Rona? Without a positive test, I can’t say that 100%, but having lived it I can tell you without a doubt, yes.

I see comments online about “house arrest” or being in a “government-imposed time out” or being “stuck at home”…that makes me sad. Being home, sheltered in place with my family during a time of absolute uncertainty has been my safe haven. I know as long as we’re here and we’re together that we’re safe. What lies outside those doors, as we’ve seen, we have zero control over.

I spent so much of this time sick that we didn’t get to do all the things I would have liked to have done, but I am very grateful for those moments and experiences we’ve had together. My “to do” list remains, for the most part, undone.

Next Monday I join the throngs of other workers who have already gone back to their respective offices. And, like many of them, I don’t want to. To say otherwise would be a lie and I don’t lie. What’s worse is it has absolutely blown me away at the sheer number of friends I have who have been “talked to” or “chastened” about their less than enthusiastic return to the workplace.

How each one of us has dealt with this whole experience is expressly unique to us and our situation. My feelings are not the same as anyone else’s and it’s ignorant to assume anything other than that.

I’m not an expert by any means, but I do think my 4 years of studying psychology give me a little more insight than Joe-Blow reading a self-help book or a magazine in the grocery store line or watching Dr. Phil.

Let us first define what a traumatic event is before we go any further. “A traumatic event is a shocking, unexpected, scary or dangerous experience than can affect someone emotionally, spiritually, psychologically or physically.” Did you know that the word “Trauma” actually comes from the Greek word for “Wound”? A wound doesn’t have to be physical to cause fear, a sense of helplessness, hurt or grief. Can we all agree that we have been living through what is, by definition, a traumatic event?

Good. Now what?

I could throw study after study after study at you on what the “right” way to work through trauma is, but I won’t. There are as many opinions on it as there are theorists. One thing that is fundamental to healing though, is recognizing the trauma. Once you recognize it for what it is the healing can begin. To ignore it is irresponsible and dangerous. Ever had a sliver you didn’t notice right away? It didn’t just get better did it? No. You had to find the sliver and remove it before the wound could start healing.

Workplaces are implementing all sorts of safe guards to protect their workers and make their work environments as safe as they can, but the reality is that they can’t promise with 100% certainty that everything will be fine. They can do everything in their power to make it a safe place to be, but didn’t we all feel safe in those same places 3 months ago? Were we? That’s definitely something one could debate.

I know many work places are trying to talk to their employees and reassure them about their return to work and that’s great. There definitely needs to be open dialogue, but they need to listen too. It’s really easy to get caught in the trap of assuming everyone handles trauma the same and that’s not true. Our reactions, our responses and our ensuing needs are going to be as different and unique as we are. Because one person seems okay with things, don’t make the mistake of assuming everyone is. And please, please, please don’t shame anyone for handling things differently than you think they should. You are NOT them. Yes, you want them to be 100% committed to returning to work and I get that. But they can’t be bullied, shamed or coerced into it. We’ll all get there in our own time.

Or we won’t.

It’s unrealistic to think the last 3 months aren’t going to have a lasting impact on us. Haven’t they already changed everything?

Consider it this way…you aren’t just asking us to return to work. You’re asking us to redefine normal in a world we’ve been isolated from for 2-3 months. You’re asking us to just pick up where we left off without recognizing that’s not possible. Nothing is the same. We can go through the same motions, do the same job, dress and act the way we did before but we’re doing it in a foreign world. This goes so much deeper than fearing change. You’re expecting us to embrace change and grow from change into a world we don’t know anymore. You don’t know that world either. Is that overly dramatic? Maybe to some people. Maybe not to others.

Now can I throw something else in the already muddled mix? Taking all of this into account, what about homes, families and individuals where mental illness is already an issue? Close your eyes for a second and try to imagine what that looks like. I’m serious – close your eyes and try.

There are many of us who, prior to this, had to deal with mental illness in our lives already. How much harder do you think it is now? Imagine you have a child who fights severe depression and anxiety and realizes their rock is leaving them in an uncertain world to go back to work. Do you think that fear is any less in an older child than it would be a young one? What about a spouse? That’s not at all dramatic if that’s your reality. Mental illness is scary and dangerous without extra trauma thrown into the mix. Until you live it, you can’t even begin to understand it. You can’t even begin to understand the overwhelming, suffocating fear of leaving those who need you the most to go back to work.

So if I seem less than thrilled to go back to work, you’re reading that right. One thing about me, I’m honest to a fault. This may be one of those times where the truth is ugly, but it doesn’t change the fact that my truth is my truth. I don’t want to go back and that has absolutely nothing to do with my job. You can make the workplace as safe as you can, offer all the assurances you want but it doesn’t change how I feel. I get that you’re doing your best, but so am I. My best looks different than yours though.

There is no how-to guide to maneuver through this next stage. I suggest we all practice empathy, understanding, kindness and acceptance as we make this walk alone. We have each other to offer support and encouragement, but ultimately it’s a journey we all make alone.

Letter To My Son

{Found this in my drafts folder from a couple of years ago...I think it's worth sharing, not sure why I never did.}

My Dear Son,

I feel like I need to try and help you understand why I feel like I do about those shows. I need you to understand it’s not just because I’m being mean or I don’t get it or I’m a stick in the mud or whatever…there’s a reason. A lot of reasons, in fact.

You are right that the bad guys are usually caught and punished (or at least you’re led to believe they get punished) what you’re overlooking is the bad guys. Yes, the good guys win and the bad guys don’t but those bad guys do something else.

First, they de-sensitize you to the bad things in the world. You see drugs, you see shootings, you see car chases, you see stealing, you see violence…you hear all sorts of vulgar things, profanity, talk of sacred things that have been made filthy by the world and guess what? You hear them enough, they don’t shock you anymore. You have slowly come to accept them as just part of life. I’m not saying that means you think they’re okay because I don’t believe you do. I’m saying that the more you hear and see those things, the less they shock you so you aren’t as quick to recognize them as bad.

Secondly, whether they intend to or not, they glorify those things we know are not okay. We sometimes talk about kids who will do anything for attention, even bad things because any attention is better than no attention. This is kinda the same thing. By watching these things, we’re giving them attention and by giving them that kind of attention, we’re glorifying them. I don’t think that’s your intention in watching them, but it’s still a reality.

Third, when you constantly immerse yourself in those things (violent shows, cop shows, fighting games, weapons, etc., etc.) your mind is filled with those things. Yes, it’s perfectly normal to be interested in that kind of stuff. I get it, but there are limits. You can’t constantly fill your mind and heart with things of that nature and expect there to be room for good and wholesome things.

Finally, like your mind, when our home is filled with those things, the spirit that abides here is not the one we want. Like it or not, violent shows invite the spirit of contention into our home. We have been told over and over and over that our homes should be a place of refuge from the world. Does that mean we block all of the world out? Of course not.

As you get older, I understand you’re going to want to make your own choices and do the things you want to do. And, whether I approve or not, you’ll do those things. I know that. My hope is that I can help arm you to make the right decisions. I want you to be able to fulfill the things you were sent to do; I want you to be happy; I want you protected from the nastiness that’s overtaking the world you are inheriting; I want you to value yourself and to always know that you ARE the son of a King with a divine purpose; I want you to know it’s okay to make stupid mistakes (we all do); I want to help you know how to recognize evil when it’s near and to stand up to it; I want you to see the good in people & the world around you.

I love you kiddo and I’m sorry if sometimes my trying to help you see the better choice comes off as being bossy & unreasonable. I just want to do what is right for you & what I think our Father in Heaven would want me to do. I don’t always get it right. I know that. I try though. That’s the best I can do. I always love you though. Always.

Mom

His Hands

I’ve struggled with something for a long time and, as Vance & I were sitting outside last night talking, listening to the crickets and the frogs, my answer came.

I’ve often questioned why it’s so hard for some people who, on the surface, appear to at least go through the motions of trying to be a good people but only insofar as people are watching. Their commitment to truth, honor and righteous living is only on the surface. Why is it their attempts are contingent on their audience or what’s in it for them? Why the lack of sincerity?

None of us are perfect, but our commitment to try to live good lives and do the right thing is what really matters. Whether your basis for living is rooted in religion or not, the desire to be a decent, honest human being who lives a life you don’t have to immerse in deceit and lies should be the same for all of us.

Sometimes it’s easy to understand why people become disenfranchised with religion/church. It is. When you see someone who stands there, high on their self-constructed pedestal, on Sundays acting holy and superior to those around them and you know the deceit they’ve immersed their lives in first hand, it’s hard to reconcile that. Of course I believe they’ll be accountable for their actions at some point (maybe not until the next life), but that knowledge doesn’t always make the “here and now” easier to deal with.

But why the difference? I don’t claim religious or spiritual superiority over anyone. I stumble, I struggle, I screw up, but I keep trying. I am sincerely trying to be a better person and I can’t wrap my head around someone who feels no need to be better, do more, grow and change.  The desire to be better is such an innate part of who I am that I sincerely can’t understand the lack of that in another person.

As we’re sitting there talking, the answer hits me out of nowhere. “They’ve not seen my hand in their lives.” Whoa. What?

I cannot even count the number of times we have seen the hand of the Lord in our lives. I have seen countless miracles happen that I have no doubt came because of divine intervention. I have seen a 2 year old’s broken arm heal in 3 days. I have seen a 6 year old in anaphylactic shock ministered to in a way that can be nothing short of a miracle. I have seen a stranger stop to help when the truck broke down on a deserted mountain road in the middle of nowhere. I have seen my children receive answers to prayers, change hearts, touch lives and bless others because they listened to guidance from an unseen Heavenly Father. I have seen a stranger rescue my son & husband from the side of a mountain because he listened to a prompting to go somewhere he hadn’t planned to go while out hunting. More times than I can count, I have seen His intervention in mine and Vance’s life. The morning of Vance’s accident, I was given a gift that’s almost unspeakable and I heard (yes, literally heard) the Lord’s voice preemptively tell me to trust Him, all would be well in the silence between the time I answered the phone and I heard “He’s been in an accident”.

I could, quite possibly, write a book full of all the miraculous things I’ve seen in my life. I know the reason for a lot of it and that’s not something I can (or will) share, but I know the divine reason and the preparatory purpose for it.

I suppose I just took it for granted that everyone has that gift. In the darkness and stillness of last night, I was told that isn’t the case.

As I’m quickly scanning through all these thoughts, blessing, miracles, moments, gifts (yes, even the trials are a gift if we can but see the blessing in them) I realize how utterly sad it is that there are people who don’t see things that way.

Have I been given an abundance of opportunities to see the Lord’s hand in my life or do I just recognize those moments? I truly think the reason is because once we recognize that hand, we immediately feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. It is that gratitude that enables us to see with the eyes our Father intended us to have. If our gratitude is sincere, we are more open to see His hand the next time. If we choose to not recognize that gift for what it is, are we given it again?  I don’t know, but it certainly does give one pause for thought.

I guess my point is that maybe, just maybe, I have such a sincere desire to be a better person is that I’ve seen the hand of the Lord in my life too many times to deny His existence. I know first-hand that He knows me, the needs of my family and what we need to grow and progress. I know that He is aware of our struggles, our heartache and struggles but I also know we don’t walk through them without Him. Unless we choose to.

I trust Him. I’m glad there’s someone who is ultimately in charge and has a plan because I know how much I would screw things up if I relied solely on myself. Maybe that’s the difference. I’m not perfect, but I’m humble enough to realize how imperfect I am. I don’t feel like I need to try and manipulate or control every situation. I don’t need to run other people’s lives. I don’t need to be anything other than honest in my dealings. I don’t need to combat the lies. I need to just stand back and let Him run things.

And I need to remember not everyone is able to see His hand. That’s sad. It really is.

Am I thankful for my trials? Ummm…not at the time. Maybe not even years later, but I’m thankful for the blessings that come from them. I’m thankful to know there’s a reason and a purpose. I’m thankful to know as long as I trust Him, all will be well. Does that mean I look forward to trials? Not a chance. Do I go into them knowing He is with me? Absolutely. My faith is deeper than the circumstances I find myself in. What a blessing that is.

His hand is extended to all who seek it. His hand is there if we quit trying to be in charge all the time. His hand is a hand of love, tenderness and mercy. How sad that many people go through life without recognizing that gift. How blessed am I to see His hands in my life.

Victimhood

Preface: There is a story behind this post, but the gist of it is that it's a blog post I wrote and shared at work on our company blog (with some very minor changes). It's been a journey full of hills & valleys and my hope is, that by sharing my journey, I can help others on their own journeys. 

In our quest for growth, change, enlightenment and progress the biggest challenge I have faced is dealing with the idea of “victimhood”. It is, if you will, the elephant in the room that we all know is there but none of us want to talk about. As the great Albus Dumbledore points out, “Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.”

I will be perfectly honest about this…I have struggled with victimhood. A LOT. When the subject of overcoming victimhood was first brought up in a group discussion, I wasn’t receptive to it at all. I felt personally affronted and shamed for feeling like I was entitled to being a victim. I had lived my life, I had fought my battles, I had earned these scars…who are you to tell me that I’m not a victim? That’s what it felt like.

A little over 4 years ago I had my world turned upside down. I was living a June Cleaver kind of life when my husband, who was driving truck, was involved in an accident that he should not have survived; an accident that was entirely the fault of another person. To tell me that I wasn’t a victim was crazy. How could I be anything other than that? I didn’t choose for this to happen. In addition to the many hats I was already wearing, I didn’t ask to become the primary wage earner and a care-taker for a disabled spouse. I couldn’t pretend everything was okay because it most certainly was not. My family was, in every sense of the word, victims to someone else’s poor choices through no fault of our own. Every bit of that was, and still is, true.

My struggle dealing with what I knew and felt to be real, absolute truth and then pairing it with the idea that it wasn’t okay to be a victim, was a difficult journey. I spent a lot of time in thought, study and prayer trying to come to terms with the concept. The obvious question was “How do I change things?” The answer, “I can’t.” Somewhere in the soul-searching, I found my glimpse of sanity, I found my answer. Yes, I am a victim to the things that have happened. No, I cannot change that, BUT what I can change is how I respond to it. I had an epiphany that even when you are legitimately victimized, you have to make the conscious decision to not allow the victimization to continue. Yes, this thing happened. Yes, it hurt. Yes, it changed my life in ways I could never imagine. Yes, it tore through my family like a jagged blade and left a lot of scars. I cannot undo any of that, but I can take control back. I have the power, the ability and the responsibility to take a stand and say “Enough.”

In the moment when I realized that the true power to stand up to my own victimhood came in my ability to take back control, things changed. The past cannot be undone, but what we do with those lessons, those trials, those moments moving forward are what count. Yes, I was a victim but I am not defined by that moment. I will no longer allow it to control me, my thoughts, my actions. I will take the lessons and the heartache that came with it and I will use them to strengthen myself and do good for others.

That isn’t to say that I don’t still have those “moments” where I feel overwhelmed and I struggle with what has happened. I’m human – of course I do. Hand in hand with the recognition of the role of victimhood in my life, came an understanding that sometimes it’s okay to feel those things still. It’s funny how I’ve developed a bit of a duplicity of thought about it. I see the feelings for what they are, I take a step back and tell myself “Okay, I see this for what it is and I’m allowing you to feel this, but only for a little bit.” After I’ve had my moment, I will remind myself that it’s not okay to linger in the darkness and it’s time to get back to living. I give myself that moment to remember that the feelings are valid, but they no longer control me. The lessons and the growth are what matter now.

It is only when I reached this moment of self-awareness and understanding that I was able to really appreciate and embrace the idea of change. Without realizing it, I was allowing my victimhood to hold me back from a lot of things. I was cheating myself out of the chance to grow, to learn, to add new skills and abilities to my tool belt. My victimhood has a role in my life, but it wasn’t the role I initially thought it would have. I’m grateful to have been able to recognize this and learn from it instead of continuing to let it enslave me.

One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned through this is that you cannot grow in one area of your life and not have that impact other areas of your life. As a team and a work family, we work toward finding ways to create value for ourselves, our co-workers, our customers, our vendors and, in fact, every person that we come in contact with. If we are sincere in those efforts, we are doing that in our lives outside of work as well. We take that desire to do better, be better, do more and constantly seek for growth, and take that home to our families to share that with them. I have found, personally, the more I do that, the “work me” and the “home me” aren’t quite so different. That true, genuine desire for honorable growth and creating value is becoming such a part of what makes me who I am, that the line between “work me” and “home me” has blurred. Knowledge without passing it on is wasted so why wouldn’t I want to share that with others?

Perhaps the idea is best expressed in the following quote: “Excellence is never an accident. It is always the result of high intention, sincere effort, and intelligent execution; it represents the wise choice of many alternatives – choice, not chance, determines your destiny.”