R & R


This is what I was enjoying just a few weeks ago. 

Nothing but sun and sea. Food and drink. Rest and relaxation. 

It was great. 

It rejuvenated my heart and my soul. 

I felt utterly relaxed. And completely rested. Rejuvenated. Refreshed. (Any more R words?) 

And then reality came back (there’s one) 

It’s easy to forget that rest and relaxation. Coming back after 2 weeks off means you hit the ground running and don’t look back. 

But let’s  forget that for a moment and remember the vacation. 

I was in Mexico. For Christmas. (First time being away for Christmas…it was weird) 

I spent at least part of every day sun tanning (I’m kind of a sun baby). And reading.


I spent some time exploring. Think snorkelling. Mayan ruins. Exploring islands. 



 But mostly just lounging. 

It was great. 

And reality returned. But for at least a little bit I will dwell on the R&R

Absurd Happiness 


This card makes me absurdly happy. Really just the two words on it. Social worker. 

I went to school for five years to hear those words. 

I worked outside of my field for a year to hear those words. 

I worked in a social work office in a non social work position to hear those words. 

And yesterday they became mine. 

I am a social worker. 

I wrote a post about that once. Back before I could really own those words. Back before those words were what I was. 

And now I am a social worker. A child protection social worker to be exact. 

It’s amazing. And terrifying. It’s incredible. And horrible. I’m so excited. And so anxious. I feel so capable. And so inadequate. 

I don’t know what the next days, weeks, months, or years will look like. They have the power to break me or make me. It could be the best years or the worst years. Only time will tell. 

And until then, I will be absurdly happy about two little words. Social Worker. 

I am (happily) Single

At least I think I am.

Most of the time I am.

I used to hate being single. I wanted to be like everyone else. In a relationship. Or married. With someone special by my side, someone to love.

Don’t get me wrong – I still want those things. But I want them differently now.

It used to be the goal – now it is just one part of life.

What I have learned in my 24 years of single-dom is that it doesn’t matter.

In the Christian community a single woman is told to prepare herself for marriage, to get ready, the special someone is coming any day now. As if God’s only purpose for us is to be wives and mothers.

In fact one of my single friends told me that the other day. She said “I don’t believe God would put that desire in my life if He wasn’t going to fulfill it”

And I used to think that to. But now I disagree.

I think in my singleness I have learned to trust God more completely.

I think in my singleness I have been given the chance to build healthy habits.

I think in my singleness I have discovered who I am and who I am in Christ.

And I don’t think I could have learned these things if I was in a relationship.

But in learning these things, I have also learned a hard truth. It might not be God’s plan for me to be a wife and a mother no matter how badly I might want it. It might be in God’s plan to put these desires in my heart and then to ask “am I enough?” every day for the rest of my life. It might be in God’s plan to use me in my singleness.

I would like to live in a world in which I am not defined by my relationship status. Where that first question I am asked by a stranger isn’t “do you have a boyfriend?”.

Perhaps someday, people like me (and many of my single friends) will change that perception.

Until then, I will have to continue saying I am single.

(and it’s okay)

I am a Writer

pen

At least I think I am.

I write this blog. That counts for something right?

I do my best writing in my head before I go to bed.

I’m tired after a long day. All I want to do is sleep.

And suddenly my writer brain turns on.

And I write wonderful things.

Short stories. Great blog posts. Arguments to support something I was telling someone earlier.

And then my eyes get tired, my brain turns off, and my thoughts disappear.

I always try to get these thoughts back, but they are never the same, never quite right.

I need something to transcribe my sleepy brain. Then I could really write.

I used to write stories. Short stories sometimes that I really enjoyed.

Sometimes I got a wonderful idea for a book.

But those only lasted a couple of pages, until my thoughts would run too quickly and I couldn’t find a way to go from point A to point B. Then I would stop.

I loved writing papers.

I know that probably makes me weird, but make me do research and write a 5-10 page paper and I would be happy.

My thoughts flow much better through my fingers. They get jumbled and mixed up when I talk. But give me a paper and a pen (or rather a computer and a key board) and the thoughts flow.

I suppose these things really do make me a writer.

 

I am a Social Worker

I never thought I would fall into something like I did social work and know it was where I was meant to be.

You see first I went to a large public university studying psychology.

And then it just didn’t work. It has seemed good at first. But then the more I learned, the more I realized this wasn’t exactly what I wanted to to.

After all, what does one do with a Bachelor’s Degree in Psychology?

So then I searched for something else.

And along came social work.

When I eventually got into a social work program (in Kansas of course) I learned so much.

And the more I learned the more I knew.

I fell in love.

Everything I learned I wanted to learn more.

The more I learned the more passionate I became.

The more passionate I became, the more I knew it was where I belonged.

I am a social worker.

I am still discovering where I want to go in that. What field I want to work in.

The more I think about it I know I want to work with children who have been victims of abuse and neglect.

When I tell people this their first response is “oh, that is a hard field”.

It happens to be a pet peeve of mine.

Because I know it’s a hard field. I know it will be difficult and emotional. I know I will see horrible things. So you don’t need to tell me.

I can handle it. I know what I’m doing. And I know what I’m getting myself into.

I am a social worker.

One Year Later

Those are from one year ago. When I walked across a stage and received my diploma. When I finally became a graduate.

It has been quite the year.

I graduated.

I moved back home.

I got a license to practice social work.

I spent 3 months unemployed.

I was employed!

My job has been far from ideal, but I have learned a lot. About myself, about how the “real world” really works, about children and development, about special needs.

I’ve missed Kansas more than I thought I would. I miss the people, the relationships I made with some amazing women, and I miss who I was there.

I’m still figuring out who I am here. I am still figuring out my relationships here, where I fit in here, where I am supposed to be here.

I wonder what the next year will hold?

I am an Introvert

My uncle told me the other day “You’re shy like your dad”

By which he meant not shy at all.

My dad is an extrovert. He enjoys hanging out with people. He can make conversations with anyone about anything. He can find something in common with anyone. He can sell anyone anything.

And that is not me.

It surprises me how many people think I’m outgoing.

Because I’m not.

I’m the girl who would rather spend her Friday night curled up with a good book then go out for drinks.

I’m the girl who avoids large groups as much as possible or talk myself into going because it’s the right thing to do.

I am an introvert.

I used to think something was wrong with me, that is was a flaw. But now I know better. It’s just the way I am. I like to be alone. Sometimes people exhaust me. Sometimes I don’t want to be social. But it’s okay. It’s me.

I need alone time. That is when I am most relaxed and at ease.

But I love people. I love my friends. I don’t have a lot of friends, I have never felt like I needed a lot of friends, but I love the ones I’ve got.

I don’t need to go out every night, much to my parents confusion. Why don’t you go out more? Why don’t you have a social life? They ask. And the answer is it is exhausting to go out. I need me time sometimes.

Being an introvert is different than being shy.

I am slow to warm up to people, to open up to people. But once I know you, I can seem outgoing. I can laugh and joke and have fun. I can be bubbly and silly. I can have long and wonderful conversations. But it takes time.

I am an introvert.