Scrubbing Floors

"Lemme tell you what homeless people think about folks that help homeless people: When you homeless, you wonder why certain volunteers do what they do. What do they want? Everybody want somethin...While everybody else was fallin in love with em, I was what you call skeptical. I wadn't thinkin nothin evil. It was just that they didn't look like the type to come in and mess with the homeless. People like that might not feel within themselves that they're better than you, but when you the one that's homeless, you feel like they feel like they're better than you."

So far, I'm really enjoying the Same Kind of Different as Me. I think I knew I would. It's funny how I can read a touching story every night before I go to bed about a wealthy man befriending a homeless man and then go to work and figure that what's in the book has nothing to do with me and my day.

What's tough about social work is the meeting of ideals and reality. Reaching out to people in the "slums" sounds good and noble. But being in the slums and entering falling down houses that stink to high heaven is another story. Sure I judge. I wince. I even hold my breath. I shake my head in frustration. No, I don't want to get down on the floor of that living room with that kid! And what kind of parent smokes around their four year old? If it weren't for that crazy parent the kid would be fine!

So, a lot of these things are true. They're reality. But I tend to forget my larger purpose: the people and their hearts - building relationships.

The director of one of the Head Start programs really challenged me this week. I was in a hurry and wasn't looking to stay and talk. I was in task mode. But she said, "You know, it's all about relationship. I've been doing this for twenty plus years, and that's why I would say. You have to build trust, build a relationship with these people. You can't just try to help them. It won't work. It won't create lasting change. You've got to be willing to scrub their floors with them and talk about life."

My heart was very pricked when she talked about offering to help clean their houses! I don't even know if she was a believer, but at that moment I realized that her heart towards the people she helps is much more Christlike than mine. Would I be willing to scrub the dirt off of some of these peoples' filthy floors? Would I be "too good" to do that? How do I make myself relevant to their world and their problems? Or do I come in and offer a condescending word of advice and pat myself on the back for my altruism? Am I even open to a relationship? Very convicting indeed.

Simply Sad

You know how situations can get really complicated and you don't even know how you feel about them anymore? Maybe your emotions are one big mixture. Sometimes your emotions surprise even you. They spring up out of nowhere and take you over with their intensity.

For years, me [and my family members] have had a rocky relationship at best with my Dad. He's now making the same choices with my sister as he did with me. And I'm watching from the sidelines. And today, it made me sad. I've become so accustomed to how things play out, that I don't usually have a ton of emotion about it. I've grown up, I've moved on. And I feel removed.

Today, I found myself back at the beginning, at the originating emotion: Sad. My heart breaks over the loss of this father. And I'm sad all over again that he can't be what I wanted him to be. I know that I'll be alright, but for a moment today, I felt simply sad once again.

I wanna hold em' like they do in Texas Plays

Anyone else heard too much of that song lately? [Poker Face] I can't count the number of times I heard it this weekend. I like her song Just Dance better.

I had a great weekend, starting with a good friend, Annie coming to visit me all the way from Missouri. It's been a year since I last saw her [on our DC trip]. Phone communication can keep you caught up, but nothing beats face to face. We had a lot of fun Saturday going to the rodeo [though the calf roping and scramble upset us], eating at Taste of Texas [yum, but the cow tag in the steak upset us too - can you tell we love cows?], and hanging/going out with Cristina [our other friend]. Annie was such a trooper with the cold, rainy weather. She was bummed that it wasn't warmer here! Sunday, we headed back to College Station and visited with some of my friends who were in town from Dallas. Monday & Tuesday I had to work :( But we still made the best of it, eating at Annie's "requested" Texas/College Station places: Blue Baker, Taco Cabana, Freebirds, & Shipley's. I think I ate out enough for the rest of the month!

It was really wonderful to see so many friends in one weekend. I was definitely needing a break & some fun. I like CS, but it can get a little boring around here at times. Once I visit Houston though, I am always happy to be back here again. I would love to find a more in between place: somewhere a little more urban/larger than CS but not as hectic and huge [not to mention lacking in visual appeal & tolerable weather] as Houston. Any ideas?

On a funny note, Annie & I cheered at the rodeo whenever the calves got away from the cowboys during the roping. I don't think our neighbors were impressed. When we were driving into Reliant Stadium, some guy was holding a sign saying something like: Thrown, Slammed, and Choked with a picture of a baby calf on it. Immediately, I did not want to go to the rodeo [except for the concert part and maybe the barrel racing]. I was distraught as I looked at the little baby calves in their pen, unsuspecting [at least that's how it goes in my mind] of their fate. I commented to Annie: "Why can't they have a baby roping or toddler scramble instead?" Cows are just too cute and innocent. I think Annie choked on her water. Yeah. Have I mentioned that I love animals just a little? FYI, I'm not serious - mostly.

Just Get Back in Bed!

It's 7am, and I'm still not up yet. So tired. Why is it that my bed's always more cozy in the morning? When my feet finally decide to hit the floor, I feel sticky on my bare skin. YUCK. Another humid day. As I start my "get ready" routine, I'm feeling ok. I can handle this morning thing.

Until: the BLOWDRYER. Do you know what it's like to blowdry your hair when it's 80 degrees with 100% humidity? GROSS. My face is dripping sweat mingled with moisturizer. I haphazardly wipe it off to get some makeup on there. Is it even worth it? I figure I should wait on the eyeliner until I straighten my hair. One less thing to melt down my face in streaks. Straightening my hair...a whole new level of GROSS. Talk about hot - hundreds of degrees hot. But my hair looks nice. I have to take a break under the fan just to cool myself off. Onto the eyeliner - and perfection. Ten years and I'm pretty talented at this whole thing. Maybe I'll post a YouTube tutorial?

Next, getting dressed. If I were smart, I would try on clothes the night before. But who knows if what looked good last night would pass inspection today? Outfit choice one doesn't cut it. Ugly. Just ugly. Outfit two...oh, not possible, those pants are in the wash. Darnit.

Twenty minutes later..........I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR. EVERYTHING LOOKS HIDEOUS. WHAT WAS I THINKING WHEN I BOUGHT THAT?? DID I ACTUALLY THINK I LOOKED GOOD IN THAT LAST MONTH?!? I dejectedly pass by the mirror and stare in horror. My hair. MY HAIR! It's RUINED. Absolutely destroyed by humidity. What was once shiny, smooth, and perfectly styled hair twenty minutes ago is now uglier than when I first rolled out of bed. AWESOME. That's when I officially decide: I HATE TEXAS. I HATE THIS WEATHER!! WHY HAVEN'T I MOVED BEFORE NOW? WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS I THINKING BY STAYING IN THIS HELLISH INFERNO!?! And, in my perfectly rational state of mind: THAT'S IT! I'LL CALL IN SICK. THIS DAY CAN BE OVER BEFORE IT STARTS!! I'LL JUST GET BACK IN BED!

Of course, I didn't call in sick. I managed to [somewhat] salvage my hair, find a [halfway] decent something to wear, and get to work late. It should be noted that I was uncomfortable all day long. I was permanently stuck with the "Man I feel like a trainwreck" sensation. Some days it really might be better to just get back in bed.

Confessing "Safe" Sins

This site (stufffchristianslike.blogspot.com) is HILARIOUS - and I thought this was a particularly awesome entry:

#502. Confessing "Safe Sins"

Have you ever been in a small group with people that confess safe sins? Someone will say, “I need to be honest with everyone tonight. I need to have full disclosure and submit myself in honesty. Like ODB from the Wu-Tang Clan, I need to give it to you raw!” So you brace yourself for this crazy moment of authenticity and the person takes a deep breath and says … “I haven’t been reading my Bible enough.”

Ugh, you, dirty, dirty sinner. I’m not even sure I can be in a small group with you any more. Not reading your Bible enough, that is disgusting. And then once he’s gone someone else will catch the safe sin bug too and will say, “I need to be real too. I haven’t been praying enough.”

Two of you in the same room? Wow, freak shows! I can barely stand it.

But what happens when people start confessing safe sins is that everyone else in the room starts concealing their real junk. I mean if I was surrounded by confessions like that in the eighth grade I would have instantly known I couldn’t follow the “not reading my Bible enough” guy with my own story:

“Soooo, this weekend when it was snowing I told my parents I was going to the dump to sled but instead I was really just digging through a 200 foot mountain of warm trash looking for pornography.” And the same principle would have applied to me in my late 20s. I wouldn’t have been honest sharing my struggles with Internet porn if everyone else confessed their “safe enough for small group” sins.

And that sucks. It sucks that as broken as we all are, as desperate as we all are for a Savior, we feel compelled to clean ourselves up when we get around each other.

But this blog has taught me something unbelievable. If I stop writing tomorrow, this will be the lesson I cling to the most.

When you go first, you give everyone in your church or your community or your small group or your blog, the gift of going second.

It’s so much harder to be first. No one knows what’s off limits yet and you’re setting the boundaries with your words. You’re throwing yourself on the honesty grenade and taking whatever fall out that comes with it. Going second is so much easier. And the ease only grows exponentially as people continue to share. But it has to be started somewhere. Someone has to go first and I think it has to be us.

We’re called to give the gift of second to the people in our lives. To live the truth, to share the truth, to be the truth.

Let’s give the gift of going second.

http://stufffchristianslike.blogspot.com/2009/03/502-confessing-safe-sins.html

Hot Mess!!

According to urban dictionary.com (the most authoritative dictionary on the web), a hot mess is : Someone or something that is such a mess... the level of it is off of the charts. It's past pathetic, past pitiful. It's to the point you almost have to walk away to keep from bustin a gut.

My experience trying to do a child intake at work today was a hot mess. Can't even find an office to do it in, dozens of papers everywhere, little kid running around bored out of his mind begging to leave, absolutely no idea what I'm doing, 100 degrees in the room, my brain shutting down.

Last Thursday one of our med clinic appointments was a hot mess. I guess I can't really talk too much about it. Probably a good thing. Just trust me, it was a HOT MESS.

Starting in two weeks, I'm taking over someone else's caseload while they are on extended sick leave (4-6 weeks). As a brand spanking new caseworker, I'll go from having 2 kiddos to 24 kiddos!! 5 of whom are in "intensive service packages" (aka really really high maintenance/risk). The typical per caseload is 2! All the while, one of my best friends is flying down to stay with me the week I take it on! Now that's a hot mess!!

I can't explain how many hot messes you get to see/experience working as a mental health case worker.

I first learned the phrase last year. One of my co-workers would always say, "Man, that's a hot mess!" I loved it. And have ever since.


Note: Hot Mess, among other things, can also mean:
A girl who manages to look stunning when other girls would look badly dressed, messy, dirty etc. I, however am definitely NOT talking about this type of hot mess. Trust me.

One Sheep

"If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? 13And if he finds it, truly, I say to you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. It is not the will of my Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish." ~Matthew 18:12-14

This verse challenges me. It challenges me because if I were a shepherd, I could't imagine being that patient, that willing to refuse to give up on someone. I would be thinking, "Stupid sheep! You made me leave all of those other sheep so I can come chase after you because you decided to be stubborn and selfish and insensitive! Who do you think you are?" Or something like that.

I can't quite wrap my head around the fact that God loves all of humanity like this. To be honest, it hasn't always been as hard to wrap my head around. But the more I learn of the evil and perversion and cruelty and dysfunction that exists within the human race, the more floored I am that God doesn't want even one to perish!

I've always thought I was good at loving people. I've always thought I was compassionate, perhaps even a "bleeding heart." But I now realize that I am completely, utterly unable to love people the way God does. Period.

My job is showing me this - seeing such dysfunction, and often, such depravity. Sometimes it makes me you want to give up on people. To say, "What's the use, they'll just turn out like their parents anyways. They're too far gone to help." I seriously find myself thinking & feeling these things. Mostly when I'm too overwhelmed by what I'm seeing or hearing. I'm so unable, so inadequate. "It is not the will of my Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish."

Maybe schools, juvenile justice centers, and mental health professionals have given up on some of these kids. Maybe they say they're unreachable, ruined, destined for a life of pain and destruction. But God says they're worth it. He says they've still got a chance. He says He would leave the other ninety-nine just to go after them. He would risk it all for the most messed up, depraved, hopeless individual. And He would say it's worth it.

I desperately desire God's heart so that I will never forget that each and every kid, no matter how little improvement or hope I see, is absolutely worth it.