Getting Your Ducks in a Row

 

Today I understand better the saying: "Getting All My Ducks in a Row"

 

Ever felt like your head is full of ducks.....so many different critters all quacking for your attention while you are trying to figure out your life. Nothing makes sense, and you are fighting for survival?

 

 

Maybe it's time to let some of these thoughts out.

 

My week: a client, who is almost 80, came in with his 24 year-old girlfriend. He is very deaf, and she is a skinny-as-a-rail former meth-head mother of three. They have been together since his wife died, and he seems unconcerned that she has had 3 kids in the interim. He is so concerned about her "lisbean" friend coming to the house and getting between them that he is yelling it all over the courthouse lobby and she is shaking her head in embarrassment and maybe even a little pride.

This was the same day I counseled someone whose boyfriend had punched her numerous times in the head, but she still "loves him"; someone else who has been swindled out of many thousands and is so distressed over losing her life savings; someone else who was attacked by her doctor; and someone who was kidnapped and attacked by 3 men; and someone who sat in my office a month ago is now dead.

 

 

This has been my life for the last year, not including the heartbreaking stories of the children who have been abused by step-family members, or even their own parents. And don't get me started on the people who lie to me every day.

 

In the meantime, while I hope I am making a difference somewhere, somehow, the grant that funds my position gets dwindled down to 1/6 of what it was....hmmm...what does that mean? I do not know.

 

My brain is tumbling with a million different thoughts....Maybe I just need to make some room for all the other things that are likely to come my way today and this week, this month, this year! My ducks are not all in a row yet, but just thinking of it in that way has helped.  Quack, quack....

 

 

 

 

Chasing Francis...Someone send me to Italy, please.

A sort of review of Chasing Francis by Ian Morgan Cron

Fiction wisdom literature is an interesting genre in Christian publishing, and it has been revived in recent years. This genre had mostly been used for self-help or even new age authors trying to pass on a story with underlying morals, principles, and yes....wisdom. I generally stay away from Christian fiction, because I am an English Literature major, which means I am a snob about good writing, and except for the exceptions like Madeline L'Engle or C.S.Lewis who are in a category of their own, the fiction I read is generally not published by Zondervan.

Think of when The Shack exploded onto the market a few years ago. When I read The Shack, I knew it was fiction and read it as such. People were recommending it as a must-read but they all refused to give you any details. "You have to read it for yourself," they said. I heard preachers praising it or condemning it because some thought it was being portrayed as an actual experience and that scared them, and some thought it had some new and interesting thoughts and that excited them. What I took from reading it was that God was awfully fond of me, and I like the idea of God having a good sense of humor. While I take my faith very seriously, the novel introduced me to the possibility of a sense of playfulness in my relationship with God.

Reading a blog recently that praised a new book, I went to the website of Ian Morgan Cron and saw the chance to download two chapters of his new book, Chasing Francis. Reading those two chapters made me laugh and made me cry....and I immediately went to Amazon and ordered the book. When it arrived, I was disappointed to discover that the book was a work of fiction...wisdom literature it was called. Don't get me wrong....I am a fiction junkie. I often read 100+ books a year, and over half of those would be fiction. But those two chapters had led me into believing this was someone's real life account of their experience, and I was hooked.

I wanted to vicariously follow this stumbling pastor who had lost his way and see what he saw on his pilgrimage in Italy. I wanted him to be a real human being that I could relate to, and not just use his story as a fictional escape from my own life.  Like The Shack, The Celestine Prophecy, and many others, Chasing Francis has a fabulous idea, and pulls you into a story that keeps you going.....until the third last chapter or so....every one of those authors seems to have a little schmaltzy lag in the story line around that part of the book, which in this case, revives again, even with a fairly predictable ending. Chasing Francis has its' lag when the hard-luck, clumsy but beautiful single woman from his congregation chases him to Italy.

The pastor has this perfect (and much coveted by me) opportunity to find himself in Italy. He conveniently has an uncle who is an Italian Franciscan monk who takes him on a pilgrimage, following the life work of St. Francis of Assisi. I learned a great deal about the saint's life that I never knew before, and it made me want to read more about this rich kid who turns his world upside down and restores the faith and the church of a community in rural Italy (Francis would be considered a bit of a celeb today, maybe even a bit of a nutcase, but loveable and very admirable in his faith). In the process of his pilgrimage, the pastor meets with the wise hermit who can give wisdom just by his presence, the jovial friar, and the clumsy woman who wins his heart. All the characters help him in his inner pilgrimage to "restore the joy of his salvation".

It is different when an actual autobiography or even memoir where the author tells a story of what actually happened, but when you are making it appear to be a memoir, and it lapses into schmaltzy, even if for a chapter or two, it is deflating for the reader because you want so badly for this to be a true actual real story. I REALLY DID!!

I did greatly enjoy the book, and would hope that Mr. Cron would not take offense at the word schmaltzy, as his writing has moments of brilliance and despite the one chapter, the reader is left with a connection (with the pastor's struggles), a sense of wonder (at the life and work of Francis of Assisi) and longing (I too would love to take the same pilgrimage). If only I had an uncle who was a Franciscan monk and would invite me to Italy.....alas, none of my uncles would ever qualify as monks.




 

Don't Stop...Don't Give Up....Keep trying.....it's in my head now.

How many times have you been tempted to give up...on a dream, on a relationship, on an idea, on life...?

This nice gentleman was in my office today, and he has quite a story to tell. He watched the movie, Second Hand Lions, and decided to bring a yacht back to his pond in southeast Missouri. In spite of it taking a month to get his yacht from Florida to Missouri, with most of the time stuck in Alabama, he did not give up, and is restoring this beautiful boat today. Way to go, George.

In my work, I deal with people who have already given up and with some who want to give up. But there are those rare souls who have been handed a whole basket full of lemons, and then just go on and make lemonade. Tracy lost his sight in one eye, but is thrilled that due to a marvelous surgeon, he will get to actually keep the eye. So what if he had to undergo over 5 hours of surgery. Angie found a new job where they are thrilled to have her cheerful spirit, and she gets a new lease on life. So what if her last boss was a real piece of work. Debbie has left a very abusive husband, and is working in a nursing home where she feels she has much love and caring to give to people confined to beds and chairs. So what if her memories of married life still give her bad dreams.



If you haven't already seen this little girl's version of a Yo Gabba Gabba song - (not having little kids around, I had to google it) - her version of Don't Give Up gets in your head.

While I have been tempted to give up on some things this past year, people like the ones mentioned above encouraged me.....I won't give up....I will keep trying.......





 

My Inner Children......

My inner child flares up every now and then, and embarrasses the heck out of me.

I want to love that inner child, but she is such a rascal. She just spits out words without a filter (even though she is a 58 year old child). Sometimes she pouts and that ain't pretty at all. Mostly she does behave and just sits and reads but the times she comes out with full force, I just want to take her across my knee.

She says, "I don't want to play nice when people take away my toys in the sandbox...When the big kids are mean...stick their tongue out at me...or throw sand in my face...or just don't like me."

After her outburst, I tell her that I understand, and I try to teach her how to deal with them big kids. I let her know that she is loved, but sometimes that does not make a bit of difference to that little red-haired stepchild. She just ain't havin' none of it. (Notice how she has acquired a bit of a southern accent too?)

When I see her appear, I cringe on one level, and yet admire her spunk on another. She wants life to be fair, and does not understand that there is no such thing. She wants to be heard, be noticed, be made a fuss of, and in her childish naiveté does not understand that life does not revolve around her and that other people have things they are dealing with too. Which means they do not understand the stresses you are dealing with either.

Yesterday, the red-headed girl came out strong when I was trying to have a very adult discussion about the future of some important work. She wiggled and squirmed her way into the conversation and soon she interrupted with her fears and frustrations. I know she just wanted the other people to love her, accept her, and listen to her, but she never comes across that way. She just seems pushy and frankly, rather annoying.

So if you happen to meet that little girl, who looks a lot like I used to, then just give her a hug. Sometimes that is enough to make her go quietly and read her book for awhile.