What's your story?

In the last couple of weeks, I’ve had some big stuff walk into my little office.  I’ve listened to a couple of different girls as they sobbed, grieving the loss of their virginity.  They felt dirty and used when the boys to whom they gave this precious gift then moved on to others just days later.  I cried with them.

 

One student casually mentioned that his dad gets furious with him when he won’t buy drugs for him.  He said, “I’m a teenager; of course I can get drugs.  But why should I spend my money on drugs for him?”  The disturbing part of the conversation was just how casually it was said.  So easily shared.

 

Three different students told me they could never talk to their parents the way they talk to me.

 

Everyone has a story.  Every person you come into contact with every day, has a story.  I’ve come to believe that the vast majority of people are also eager to share their stories.  If only someone would listen.  And care.

 

Too often we are in a hurry.  Rushed.  Running through the drive thru.  But sometimes we need to stop and savor the gourmet meal of someone’s story. 

 

There is an old hymn that comes to mind dealing with stories.  The words are simple, “Tell me the story of Jesus; write on my heart every word.  Tell me the story most precious; sweetest that ever was heard.”

 

I think that when we are open to hearing someone’s story, and sitting with them through the dark and dank parts of it, we are silently speaking the story of Jesus right back to them.  The story of love and acceptance.  The story of not casting stones.

 

 

 

*For every story I hear, I know I’ve rushed through ten.  So don’t hear me saying I have this all together.  I don’t.  This is a challenge for the reader AND the writer.

You Can't Take It With You When You Go

I made a casual remark the other day about a couple of the top five things I'd grab on the way out if my home were on fire.  That lead to more serious thought about it, so I figured I'd share.  And to be totally honest, it only took me about three minutes of serious contemplation to come up with ...

The Top Five!

 

5.  Dad's mug.  I vividly remember him drinking coffee from this mug. 

Coffee in Dad's mug smells like home.

 

4.  These are the best little banana bread loaf pans on the planet!  My mom gave them to me.  They are also fabulous for meatloaf and other various things.  I've never seen any like them.  They have the best non stick coating.  They've been cut on (you can see the marks) but they still work perfectly every time.

 

3.  My charm bracelet.  It is symbolic of my journey and often serves as a reminder of where I've been (metaphorically) and where I'm going and what truly matters.

 

2.  Dad's original Enthusiasm Socks.  Obnoxious aren't they?  Love them!  Look closely; you can see the holes.  I wear them occasionally.  Attitude is everything.

 

1.  Zip drive that holds my writing.  The ultimate journal.  Actually, I'd grab either my laptop or the drive, whichever was handier.  The drive lives in my purse so that it is nearly always with me.  Not everything I write is fabulous.  Some of it is terrible.  But it is probably my favorite thing.  Certainly my favorite form of stress/anger/anxiety management.  It is also a secret window into my heart and the crazy way my brain works.  If you REALLY want to know me, ask to read my stuff.  If you really want to LOVE me, appreciate the sharing of it.

 

 

So there you have it.  My most prized possessions.  In the grand scheme of things, stuff just doesn't matter.  People matter.  Relationships matter.  The journey matters.  

 

Baby Steps to Peace

Years ago, I went through Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University, but I must admit that for the past two years I haven't been very peaceful.  I took control of most of my life, but haven't done a great job getting a handle on finances.  So when it was time for the FPU class at church, I figured it was time to make some changes. 

So far, I haven't been taking control very well.  I didn't get around to signing up for the class, so my mom did it for me.  Yay Mom!  Then I missed the first class yesterday because I was sick.  I stayed home from school today and started feeling better this afternoon.  In fact, I was feeling guilty about being home, so I decided to listen to the CD from the class I missed yesterday.  It started going through the Baby Steps. 

Step One:  Start an emergency fund with $1000

A while back, I started saving all of my spare change in canning jars.  While I was listening to the lesson, I decided I needed to take advantage of the day off and go deposit that money in my savings account.

Those change machines at the credit union are super fun to use!  Here was my jar deposit.

The left receipt was $123.93.  The right you can see.  For a grand total of $144.16!!!  Woohoo!  I took those handy receipts to the teller and deposited them, along with the cash from the jars for a total of $170.16.  Yay!  I had set aside another $400 to add to it, bringing me to $570.16.  Over half way to completing my first baby step.

It isn't as if I'm in the poor house or anything, and retirement is well in the works.  It's the day to day things and overuse of a credit card that have been doing me in.

So, today starts the journey toward getting financially peaceful again.  The journey is a little scary on your own, so I'm taking advantage of my emotional support resources including my mom and a very good single friend who is in the same boat.

This week's homework includes a basic budget, the sight of which makes me anxious, not peaceful.  I'll have to tackle it another day.  Baby steps, you know.  =]

Call me, maybe?

“Love my Smart phone but miss the days when I wasn't accessible by everyone 24/7. I need to establish better boundaries between work time and home time.”

 

This was a recent post by a friend of mine that really has me thinking about boundaries.  I’ve actually been thinking about it quite a bit lately.  Technology has been such a blessing in so many ways; I love keeping track of my friends and family in Amarillo and Oregon this way.  But it does bring with it a number of liabilities.  Loss of privacy and down time being one of them.

 

Working in schools, we are warned about using caution with Facebook, Twitter, and other social media.  But I’ll admit that I love the convenience of having a Facebook page for my school.  I regularly post answers to student questions and announcements about important upcoming events. 

 

Recently though, I crossed a line into another area where most do not go.  Texting.  I am now among the many people who do not have a home phone.  I only have my cell.  I’d estimate that the vast majority of my students at school are the same.  Reaching them at “home” is next to impossible.  And as a high school counselor, I regularly have the need to reach students, not parents.  I need to know what class they would like to take since AP European History did not make.  I need to know their preference when AP Spanish Language and the band period they need are in conflict.  And I suppose the kids who take these types of classes might be considered the good and trustworthy ones, so why not text them?

 

But I also have the need to reach students who haven’t shown up to first period.  Kids who need to go sign up for a night school course.  Those who have lost credit for so many classes that their schedules are thirty minute logic puzzles with a variety of solution options that have to be discussed and weighed against available funds and time conflicts.

 

Mostly, students don’t answer their phones.  But they will answer a text.  I started texting kids quite a bit more this school year.  Our school allows texting in the hallways, and some teachers use them in class as part of the lesson.  I frequently receive emails and texts from kids during class.  It cracks me up. 

 

When students come see me these days, I always ask for their cell numbers and email addresses.  I promise I won’t forward dumb things or text them randomly.  I just want to be able to reach them when I need them.  They are only too happy to pass along the numbers. 

 

Oddly, the population I end up getting the most numbers from is the group who is woefully behind in credits, regularly tardy and/or absent, frequently high, and often have children.  Why?  Because these are the kids with whom I most regularly need to be in contact.  They gladly give me their numbers.  And even as I’m writing them down, I tell them that I want their numbers so that I can text or call them to harass them when they miss school.  So I can bug them when their grades drop.  So I can push and cajole and bug them all the way to the graduation finish line.

 

And you know what happens every single time?  They smile.

 

One such student recently gave me her number.  I had a variety of issues to work out on her schedule and ultimately took a picture of the new schedule on my computer screen and sent it to her.  Pretty cool, huh? 

 

Unfortunately, this same student and a friend of hers ran away.  She texted me about what was going on, and I called.  I wasn’t able to convince them to make a different choice.  Their parents have reported them as runaways, so the police are now involved. 

 

I don’t know where they are.  But thanks to that same boundary killing technology, I do know they are safe.  They promised to continue checking in with me.  I don’t know how long this will last.  I’m guessing that at some point they will abandon those phones; the police have those numbers.  But they do still have my number.  And I’m okay with that.  Maybe, just maybe, if they get too far in over their heads, they will reach out.