Bittersweet news

Seven years ago I walked on Georgia Baptist Children’s Home’s campus for the first time.  I started my internship in the summer of 2007 as a bubbly, naive, energetic nineteen year old girl who just wanted to love on some kids and change the world.  Little did I know this place would completely change my world and teach me what love truly was.  The residents here stole my heart and I knew without a doubt this is where I was supposed to be so I came back every summer for the next four years.  Then finally I finished my degree and they told me I didn’t have to leave but I could take a full time position as Activities Director.  I was ecstatic.  This was my dream job and I have loved it, the good and the bad of it for the past four years.  

Which is why it is with mixed emotions that I turned in my resignation on Monday. 

There is no doubt that I had it made here.  I got to work with some of the coolest kids (as in teenagers and kids) on the planet and they truly are some of my favorite people.  There are so many residents that I’ve gotten to work with over the past few years that I still think about and miss on a daily basis.  I was given a front row seat to watch God move and work in the lives of these precious people and sometimes He even allowed me to be the one to lead them to Him.  There were long days but at the end of them it was always worth it.  I was here to minister to these kids and teach them things but there is no doubt that they showed me so much more than I taught any of them.  They showed me that true strength is moving forward when your circumstances and the world tell you that you can’t.  They showed me that unbelievable courage means getting up every day and muddling through the worst of situations and still finding a way to smile.  They captured my heart and I felt a love for these kids that can only be explained as God given and leaving this place will not change the love I have for all the incredible kids I have been given the opportunity to work with.  

I’m not only leaving my babies but I’m leaving some of the best people I have ever known and had the opportunity to work alongside with.  The staff at the Children’s Home become much more than coworkers, somehow in the trenches and the chaos of our jobs we become family.  They are the people who laugh with you when all you want to do is cry.  These incredible people hear horrendous stories, face huge problems with limited resources, and are not recognized near enough for their efforts but they still show up every day and battle for these kids.  They are truly the hands and feet of Christ and represent Christ so well through their actions, not just their words.  It has been my honor to work alongside such incredible people and I know that no matter how far I go they will always be family. 

Many of you reading this are people that I have met through this job.  Whether you came to lead chapel with the residents, sponsored outings, came and cooked hotdogs for us, or brought Christmas gifts you touched my life as well.  There is so much evil in the world and sometimes it feels overwhelming and pointless.  But it never failed when I reached the point of despair over the situations I saw God would send people into my path who just wanted to reach out in love to the residents.  I have met people who loved these kids so much and had never even met them; people who truly wanted to serve and didn’t mind doing it for zero recognition or reward because it wasn’t about them, it was about these kids.  All of you reminded me that there are still good people in the world.  You all reminded me that “Greater is He who is in me than he who is in the World”.  You brought joy to the residents by your generosity, but you also reminded me of the hope that I needed to hold on to.  

So as hard as it is to leave I have to follow God to the next step on my journey.  I am leaving to pursue my license as a therapist and will be doing family and individual therapy with kids just like the ones here.  My heart remains the same.  I’m still the same bubbly, naive (yes I admit it) girl who wants to love on some kids and change the world.  But at the same time I am not the same girl, nor will I ever be.  Georgia Baptist Children’s Home has impacted me far beyond what I can type in a post.  I have learned so much over the past seven years that I could never begin to say thank you for.  But for all those that I know as a result of this wonderful chapter in my life, please know I am grateful for your impact on my life.  Georgia Baptist Children’s Home will always hold a very special place in my heart.

I wish I knew.

When I’m stressed I write, so expect a couple of posts over the next few weeks.

“I wish I knew...”   

That’s what I keep thinking to myself.  I wish I knew how this would play out… or how that would work… or what would happen next.  I wish I could just pause time, jump forward a year, two  years at the most and just make sure that all the decisions I am making are good ones.  I know I’m not the only one in this boat.  How many times have we thought if I could just fast forward to that point and then come back? That would make everything so much easier. 

I think for me it’s the fear of the great unknown.  I like the safety of routine.  I know what’s going to happen and how because for the most part it’s what happens every day.  But, when you shake that up things get scary.   

What if I can’t make it work, what if I fall on my face, what if it doesn’t play out like it should?  But… what if it does?

The problem with safety is there is no growth.  Everything goes like it should not because I’m trusting God to come through for me and not because I’m living life to the fullest but because that’s just the way it goes.  God gets no glory and I remain safe, but I remain the same,

 and I do not want to ever remain the same. 

I watched Son of God this weekend and the scene with Peter walking on water really got me thinking.  Would I have gotten out of the boat in the storm?  I mean think about that for a second.  The storm is scary, I’m sure the boat felt like it could flip at any second, and people were probably hanging on for dear life to whatever they could grab.  And Jesus asks Peter not only to let go of the boat, the only thing keeping him afloat, but also to step out into the storm with Him.   The boat may not have felt very safe but it had to feel like the safest option, but that’s not what Jesus was concerned with.  He was concerned with Peter learning to trust HIM and nothing else.  

So, where do I want to be?  Safely tucked in the boat hanging on for dear life or standing on water in the middle of the storm trusting that the One who called me there will always be standing with me. 

 

Moving out of the Glass House.

Everyone has a story.  I grew up a “preacher’s kid” which meant I learned early on how to live under a microscope.  What was acceptable for other people just was not permissible for me.  If all the teenagers are in the back talking people are annoyed but if the preacher’s daughter is back there with them then “something needs to be done”.  I mean imagine with me, if the preacher can’t control his kids how can he lead others to raise their own?  My parents did a phenomenal job as parents but the truth remained that at times my dad had to be the pastor, my mom the pastor’s wife, and my sister and I knew our roles early on.  You’re not allowed to slip up, be disrespectful, have a bad attitude, or simply have a bad day in front of others.  The common joke is that we lived in a glass house, literally in the church parking lot.  As the preacher’s daughter, I was expected not only to behave right but if someone was supposed to pray in Sunday school it was me.  If they asked a Bible question I should have the right answer.  I can remember my Sunday school teachers doing a lesson and then asking if I thought what they taught was right.  My parents were great parents and tried so hard to balance out the expectations of others but despite their best efforts being a “PK” left its mark.  To this day, it cripples me when someone thinks I’m not acting appropriately.  Now I get to call it “being professional” but the fact remains, I struggle with living my life in a way that others deem as acceptable.

You think when you grow up that everything will somehow work itself out.  That along the journey of life you’ll arrive at this long awaited point where you are independent and taking care of yourself.  You’ll be living the life you want, how you want, where you want, and you’ll somehow have it all together.  At this point you won’t worry about what other people think of you because you’re too busy being you to actually care.  Your relationship with God will be stable and you’ll finally have reached the point where you don’t struggle with the same things over and over and you’ll be living the abundant life that you always wanted and that Christ promised. 

And then you reach the expected point and realize that life doesn’t really work like that.  You’ll figure out that life is in the daily struggle.  It’s deciding every day to be content where you are.  It’s picking up your cross daily and realizing that some struggles are there to teach you how to overcome.  They get easier, but not because they go away but because you get stronger.  The more you fight something the stronger you are.   

As silly as it is I spent a better part of yesterday evening in tears because of someone else’s opinion of me.  I guess you never really get away from being the preacher’s daughter and even though I’ve moved away I still live in that glass house.  Someone viewed me as a bad influence or a distraction and it really upset me.  I know my intentions and God knows my heart, but the PK in me so badly wanted everyone else to like me and think I was great that it literally stopped me in my tracks.  So today I have to fight a little harder than yesterday.  Today I have to remember that I live my life for the approval of God, not man. 

A Thousand Words Paints a Picture: A thank you from December

Christmas is over which for my job means I can finally take some time to share my gratitude with all who played a part in this Christmas.  This was my fourth Christmas working at the Children’s Home and has been my favorite one to this point.  This is not because I love these kids any differently than the kids in the past but because this year there were so many special, magical memories made for these kids.  They say a picture is worth a thousand words.  If I could show you all pictures of some of the best moments I would, but I cannot (and if I did I would lose my job and I like my job), so all I can share are my words, and it may take a thousand!  Somehow amidst the chaos, anxiety, and overall excitement there were so many beautiful moments and I want to share a few of those. 

There were six residents this year who still believed in Santa Claus.  So, with threats to all the other children in place, our goal was for those six to still believe in Santa at the end of Christmas.  The kids all give me a Christmas list in October so I know what they want for Christmas, easy enough right.  All we had to do was gift the items to the residents with a tag from Santa and we are good to go.  Wrong.  Here’s what I learned, children tell Santa different things then what they put on their Christmas list!  So, when I took some of them to see the “real Santa” one of my sweet girls decided to whisper to Santa that she wanted a Polar Express Bell.  Not just a jingle bell but a real Polar Express Bell.  And this happened five days before Christmas.  To be honest, finding a Polar Express Bell that close to Christmas with all the other things I had to do just probably wasn’t going to happen.  But we have a wonderful staff member who just was not going to let this Christmas wish go unanswered.  She searched high and low and of course the closest Polar Express Bell was in Alabama.  And as God would line it up, she just happened to be spending the weekend with her family in Alabama and was able to get the one Polar Express Bell in the Southeast United States.  I attached a special note from Santa and our sweet girl woke up on Christmas morning with wonderful gifts to open and play with and a gift she requested that told her that she was special.  And, the first thing she told me about when I saw her after Christmas was not all the toys she received but about Santa bringing her a special bell. 

When we went to visit this real Santa he had them build a toy car that they would give to someone else to teach them that Christmas is more about giving then receiving.  So after a morning full of fun on the way home we were discussing who they would give their cars to and they were tossing around different people that really mattered to them.  One of the girls decided that she would give hers to Mrs. Alice because she just thought it was so nice of her to line up our trip to see Santa and because “she is special” which melted my heart but they didn’t stop there.  One of our VP’s at Central Office, Chris Hobbs, has a train set and asked that on our way back I let the kids come in and see it.  When we were looking at the train set they were doing their best to behave (they know the drill) and be sweet all while having fun playing with a ridiculously cool train set.  After about the 5^th time one of the girls had knocked the train off the track and with his phone ringing off the hook, I started to prepare them to leave so Chris could get back to work before they tore the place a part.  But, despite the fact that he probably had a million things to do, he insisted that we let them play more.  And he calmly continued to show this little girl how to put the train back on the track for the 6^th time.  While he was explaining to her how it worked she interrupted him and said “I want to give you this” and pulls out her little toy car.  I of course started crying because he had no idea what that meant.  To this little girl he had suddenly become someone that mattered to her; he became someone special all by playing trains.  Her little heart wanted to do something nice for him like he was doing for her and all she had to offer was a little toy car.  But she offered and he accepted and made her feel like she had offered him the very best gift in the entire world.

After our “play with trains” moment the children became obsessed.  So, we had to of course watch Polar Express.  I decided to do a Polar Express night and let them wear their PJ’s and come drink hot cocoa and snuggle up and watch a movie.  I should have probably though this through a little more than I did but about 20 minutes into it I was regretting this decision.  There had been five spilt cups of cocoa, two major messes to clean up, an almost fight, and three children crying because they burned themselves and we hadn’t even started the movie yet!  But this was on the night of the monsoon and I knew there was no sending them back into the rain without seeing this movie.  So we declared a no more walking with hot chocolate rule and started the movie.  And I immediately remembered why I did it.  They curled up with blankets and the room for the most part went silent.  I gave them all teddy bears which seems ridiculous considering that the average age is about 15 but it turned out to be exactly what they wanted.  They curled up with their bears tight to their chests (even the boys) and watched a movie.  At one point I just stopped and looked because from the outside I’m sure we would have looked crazy, a bunch of teenagers curled up watching Polar Express with teddy bears and with big messes on the floor.  But in that moment I watched a lot of kids with no normal in their lives just be happy.  I watched them get into the magic of it all with the little kids as they helped tell stories of how Santa can get in and leave toys and how he knows when they’re sleeping and for a moment they were all just kids.  So with some minor adjustments this will be a new tradition for Christmas at GBCH because they all deserve a moment to just be kids.

One resident that we had this Christmas had never had a real Christmas with gifts under the tree if there was even a tree at all.  In fact, we had to help him write his Christmas list because he had never written one and all he could think to put were sodas and snacks.  Once we had a list I was determined that he was going to have everything on that list (and hopefully more… we had a lot to make up for!) And, thanks to the generosity of wonderful sponsors that is exactly what happened.  For all of our residents.  They woke up on Christmas morning and under their tree were stacks of gifts with their name on it.  And when they opened those gifts it wasn’t generic toys or things they didn’t want, it was exactly what they had asked for.  Someone had cared enough to take what they asked for and go buy exactly that.  This may just be the way Christmas works for some people but for kids who can’t have what they want (a family or to be at home) this little fact speaks volumes.  Whether they believe it was from Santa or from a sponsor, it expresses even if just for a moment that they are worthy of nice things and that they are not whatever society or their family has spoken over them, instead they are loved.  And they are remembered. 

So for everyone who had any hand in Christmas at the Children’s Home this year, I want to say thank you.  Whether you helped buy presents for one or several residents, came and helped wrap into the night and insisted that they all have cute bows, sent gift cards so we could make sure each child felt special and none felt left out, or maybe you said an extra prayer that they could all make it through this Holiday season with joy, thank you.  Thank you for giving them a childhood memory to look back on and smile.  Thank you for not forgetting about these residents.  Thank you for remembering them and loving them.