Kristen Blog

I am sitting by the window in our new chair (another blessed hand-me-down!), and it is obnoxiously big for the space in our bedroom. It takes up way too much space, and it is REALLY awkwardly placed. But it is ohhhh so comfy.   AND...I finally have my window seat for reading, relaxing, recovering.  I have ALWAYS wanted a window seat! I used to go to work with people.  Now that I think about it, I was always going to work with people.  I think my parents just didn't know what to do with me a lot of the time.  (If I wasn't going to work with someone, then I was tagging along with my middle sister...and that was a REAL annoyance to her.)  I was 7 years younger than my older sister, and I remember going to work with her one day.  She worked in the deli at a grocery store, and since there was no one to watch me, I tagged along with my book and sat in the booths reading all day.  (I cannot, by the way, fathom the whining which would ensue from such a suggestion to my current

I am starting to think someone or something, somewhere out there, is REALLY trying to take me out.  I have been kicked in the face and stabbed in the back all in one week, and it seems like there is something new to knock me out every week. (I mean, my initials are KO, but I always viewed it coming from me not too me 😉😂). Ah well...no worries, homies...as ALWAYS...I'm still standing.  Yeah.  Yeah.  Yeah. Can you believe someone had the audacity to call into question my integrity this week (and not even to my face, Et tu, Brute)?!!  Of course you can.  You never know.  I could be a total phony, sitting around the house all day not really working at all... better call Bob ! (still working on the bitterness) 😉😂  But...just to clarify...I am not a phony.  I am genuinely working my [bad word] off trying to serve youth (including the ones from my own womb) in as many capacities as I can for the sole purpose of compassion.  I mean, let me be very clear, I am not really servi

Oh...MY...GOODNESS!  I wish I could tell you about my week.  I think it is one of the worst forms of discomfort for me...when I want to speak, and I can't.  You might even call it torturous, for someone like me.   I never have been one to hold my tongue well.  But...look at me!  So grown up!  I am learning so many new skills. Of course, sometimes the motivation for not talking exceeds even my insanely, impulsive, desire to blurt my perspective on every situation I encounter.  I have so many thoughts on so many topics.  You may have moved on from our conversation yesterday, but 10 years from now, the PERFECT response just might come to my mind, and I will be bursting in my seat for want of sharing. Fortunately for everyone, I am a mature, grown up now.  I am so gonna hold my tongue where ethics and morals are involved, but I will say this much.  I will never need Reality TV (not that I ever liked it, anyway), because I work and live and breath in Dysfunction Junction! And I have

The theme for this week has been the challenge of parenting.  I have talked to several moms in a difficult state with children who turn their backs on the person who has given everything for them.  Usually it is a moment of rebellion.  It is a kid trying to look cool.  It is a girl trying to get her way.  It is a single dagger thrown in a moment of immaturity, but to a mother, it has a lasting effect.  I, myself, am not immune.  My own offspring have figuratively slapped me in the face, sometimes on a daily basis, despite the fact that I literally lay down my whole life for them.  I gave them my youth.  I sacrifice my days to attend to their needs.  I battle for them.  I rage for them.  I hurt for them.  I agonize for them.  And the little (bad word)s turn around and stab me in the back!  And I have to keep on loving them right through my hurt and insecurity. I keep myself deliberately fragile.  I choose to have a heart of glass.  It is sensitive.  It is vulnerable.  It gets broken. 

What a Friday... I'm pretty sure I read something once that somewhere, some country used constant irritation as a torture device.  Like...they would let their POW's fall asleep for just a few minutes and then would randomly wake them, so they never really got any sleep...and it drove their victims mad. I need to clarify...I might totally be making this up, but it DEFINITELY sounds plausible to me.  Because sometimes, a series of non-stop pin pricks can seem worse than one deeper wound.  Rip off the band-aid, for the love! Today was a series of frustrations.  I started the day tired.  I have started every day this week progressively more and more tired, and I had little hope, since each day was scheduled to be relatively as long as the one before.  I'm not really catching much down time right now. And I started out the day with a decent group, until some kid just COMPLETELY snapped during my fool-proof, everybody-loves-it lesson.  I mean, I've never seen such a Dr.

And then there are the days you wake up to being puked on.  That's life.  It could have been a lot grosser, and my gag reflex is seriously overflexed.  If I didn't gag, it wasn't that bad.  I sure wasn't planning on showering at 6:30 on Sunday morning (we pick the late service for a reason!), but at least I have a slow start tomorrow.  I think I can cope through.  The real rough week is behind me, for now. I give a lot of myself.  For the most part, I am able to do that without need.  I am very careful to make sure I am balanced.  I pay severe attention to my feelings and moods, and I make sure my cup is full, as often as I can.  I have learned to let go of the small things, to ignore the darts and daggers other people might throw at me and stay confident in my worth (because of where it is rooted).  I am very aware.  Some call it mindfulness.  I call it gratitude.  I look for things to appreciate.  A lot of times it is in another person, and one of my favorite thi

You know, this work/internship thing is really turning out to be not-so-bad, so far.  Everything seems to be timing out pretty bearable.  I am praying it continues.  The weekends off really helps! And the troubled youth ...it is my theme.  It is my heart.  I don't think there's anything to which I would rather give my life. Turns out, so far, I am loving this year.  (There are definitely ups and downs, but I went full force into it expecting that.  Hurting people hurt people.  I was once hurting myself.  I think it's redeeming.) Speaking of expectations, that is one of my main strategies for coping.  I have learned to enter into this work with little to no expectations.  It is so much easier to be kind and compassionate when I don't place expectations on the other person.  Boundaries, definitely.  Expectations, no.  When I place expectations on a broken person, I set them up for failure.  These kids don't need another opportunity for failure.  I get to be the