Who are You Trying to Impress?

     When I was in school, I figured out pretty early that the area I could excel in was being the “good one”. I might not have been the smartest one in the class,or the most popular, but I could impress teachers by always doing what they asked and never causing problems. I never had one teacher call me disrespectful until I was a senior in high school, and it bothered me for months. I guess it’s just in my nature to be a people pleaser, because I've carried those habits with me into adulthood.

Last week, I had a painful experience that hurt my feelings in a lot of ways, and also really hurt my "good kid" pride. To put it concisely, I was told that mostly because of one person’s negative perception of me, I would no longer get to do something I really enjoyed, and connections I spent almost four months making would be taken away from me. This news took came as a complete surprise to me, and hasn't been easy for me to process. It would be easy and temporarily satisfying to reveal all of the details and call people out, but I know that would be wrong of me and definitely backfire at some point, and I'm trying very hard not to become bitter, so I won't do that.

Even though several people that I have a lot of respect for reassured me that I had done everything I could and was not at fault in this situation, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what I could have done differently to make this person happy. After about a week of coming up with no answer to that question, and through a lot of agonizing and talking it over with friends, I finally came to the conclusion that making any person happy shouldn't even be my goal.

I'm starting to realize that even if I do my absolute best to get everything right, there are just some people who won't be satisfied. As frustrating as that is to me, it serves as a reminder that pleasing God needs to be my focus. Sure, I need to be respectful to people who are in positions above me and try my best to do what I'm expected too, but I shouldn't be so upset when people aren't satisfied, because at the end of the day, and at the end of my life, God is the one who has the final word, and what He thinks about me is really all that matters. I'm sure it's going to be a long process, but I'm ready to start becoming a God pleaser instead of a people pleaser.

To the Worried Mother in the Hospital Waiting Room : I'll See You on the Outside.

I noticed you sitting quietly by yourself, holding your son's hand in the corner of this noisy waiting room. I see the worry on your face, and even though we are total strangers, I feel like I can relate in some small way to what you are feeling. I was the patient, not the parent, but I am familiar with the look of pain on your face, because I have seen that look on the faces of my own parents at certain times in my past, and I wanted to let you know that you're not alone.
Right now, I am a twenty year old student, working part time at a job that challenges and fulfills me, and I am very happy. But that's not my whole story, and I want you to know how much struggling it took for me to reach this point. Words like "infectious disease" and "Anaphylactic shock", were at one time a very vivid part of my reality. I am familiar with pick-lines, home health, and medical equipment like wound- vacs and fixators that seem like they belong in a low budget horror movie instead of real life.  Sometimes I'll hear a sound that resembles the beeping of an IV pump, or catch a whiff of something that "smells like a hospital", and it can throw off my whole mood for a few minutes or a week. Right now I am fortunate enough to be in a period of life where hospital visits are only for occasional checkups, but I am painfully aware of the fact that this could change at a moments notice. I am twenty now, and since the 7th grade I have been trying to learn how to let myself be happy without constantly keeping that happiness in check so that it I don't have too far to fall the next time I am yanked away from the happiness of ordinary life because an x-ray or CT scan shows that something has gone wrong. I have come a long way, but I will always struggle with that. Yes, I am happy right now, but I just wanted you to know that there is a long story behind that happiness.
Right now you're sitting in a hospital waiting room holding your son's hand, and I just wanted to tell you that you're doing a good job. You might feel helpless, and devastated because your child has problems that you don't have the ability to fix, but I wanted to somehow tell you that I have been that child, and my parents have been the worried ones holding my hand, and it is exactly the right thing to do. Having a familiar hand to hold in an unfamiliar, scary hospital is essential, especially for a child. You might feel powerless, but you are a hero because you are giving that child something that no one else can, because parents have the rare ability to feel a child's pain with them and understand their needs in a way that no doctor can.
Today was my last visit with my jovial neurosurgeon, because I am at the age where I have to start transitioning out of the children's hospital, and his parting words to me were "See you on the outside." It was a funny thing for a doctor to say, but also somehow profoundly fitting, because sometimes the horrors we face within the walls of a hospital make it seem like a different world. So to you, worried mother, I just wanted to say "I'll see you on the outside." I don't necessarily know if our paths will cross again, but I do know that one day, even if it is only for a brief moment, you will catch yourself doing something shockingly ordinary with your sweet son, like shopping at the grocery store or spending a lazy Sunday afternoon at home, and it will strike you that against all odds, you have made it back to that beloved place that everyone takes for granted, ordinary life in the outside world. I don't know how long it will take, or how long you will get to stay before the cruel realities of having a sick child come knocking at your door again, but I do know that one day, no matter how impossible it seems right now, you will get there. I know because I did.

It is not often you meet a neurosurgeon with a great sense of humor who sings when you come into his office and nicknames you "boss lady" when it feels like everything is out of your control. See you on the outside, Dr. B.

Sunset Photography and Acceptance: Part 1

When I was much younger and my family was attending a different church, I remember one summer at Bible school when there was a discussion about baptism that eventually resulted in several of my friends getting baptized, and at first I thought maybe I would be too.  I even went so far as to have the pastor come to my house and talk to me about it, but I never followed through with it. I don't regret that, because I know that it wasn't the right time for me to make that decision.
For a long time, I had a hard time understanding why getting dunked under water, or getting water sprinkled on your head (if you're a Methodist and get to do it the easy way!), was so important. It seemed more symbolic than anything, and I didn't understand what it really accomplished. But as I grew older and Salem started to really feel like "my church", my perspective on the subject began to change. My faith has grown and changed so much through what I've learned and how I've been welcomed there, and I began to consider the thought of baptism in a new light, because I liked the thought of being an official member of this church that embraced me so readily, and I've started to understand the importance of publicly demonstrating my faith even though I'm not always a fan of being the center of attention. Around the time that I began having these thoughts, an adult confirmation class was beginning, and I started attending with a vague thought of possibly getting baptized sometime soon.
One Tuesday evening, a pretty bad storm started just before I was about to leave for class. So bad, in fact, that I was wondering if anyone would even show up that night because of the crazy downpour and lightning that made driving conditions less than ideal. But people did show up, and we had class as usual, with occasional thunder as our background music. As class was ending, our pastor, who was teaching the class, went to look out the door and see if the rain had calmed down any. A few seconds passed, and suddenly he was calling us all to "Come look at this!", his trademark enthusiasm at full force. We did come look, and what we saw was a vivid sunset peeking out from behind the storm clouds, and being illuminated every few seconds by lightning that still remained even though the rain had stopped. I had never seen sunshine and lightning coexist like that before, it seemed to me to be a weather occurrence worthy of National Geographic. Pastor Brian's enthusiasm was contagious, not to mention the fact that I already have a habit of taking too many sunset pictures, and pretty soon our whole class was standing on the doorstep, phones pointed towards the sky. The unplanned excitement of that moment, and the natural sense of happiness it brought to me, make it one that I will remember for a very long time.
In that moment and the ones that followed, I never thought about how ridiculous I probably looked walking through wet grass to get closer and have a chance at a clearer picture, setting my Bible and papers down, and conducting an overzealous sunset photography shoot right there in the church parking lot. It doesn't sound like a big deal to say it, but I know myself, and I know that it took a lot of time and personal growth for me to have that genuine moment of giving in to my own enthusiasm without worrying about how I looked to other people. It was in that moment that I got what I wished for when I was younger and passed up a chance to get baptized. I felt God telling me that I was in the right place,a place where I found the acceptance and security that I had been craving for most of my life, and it was finally the right time for me to make that decision and take the step of publicly acknowledging my faith.
When my family first started coming to Salem, I was a very insecure teenager, and the social pressure of high school affected me even more than I probably realized at the time. Youth group became a comfort zone, and on days when I was sitting in the cafeteria eating lunch alone (that did happen a few days a week, I'm not trying to be dramatic), or sitting in class trying to ignore rude comments when I happened to know the right answer more than once in the same day, making me a "snob" or "nerd", the thought of Thursday's kitchen and the acceptance of my youth group that I knew came with it, became a sort of survival tactic. If I could just get through the week at school, I could go to church and know that I could let my guard down and be accepted and treated kindly without having to censor what I said or how I acted. And When I went off to college, cards from my youth group and church family and many long phone calls with my youth leader, who is now a close friend, helped me hold on to my faith during a time when it would have been easy to get caught up in so many other things.
For a long time, I have had the feeling that I probably should get baptized, but it was not until that moment when I was twenty years old and looking up at the sky with my pastor and some of my church family, that I finally had an encounter with God that made me experience a genuine desire to get baptized. I go to a church that truly feels like my church. It's members feel like family, and inside it's walls I feel at home. I will be baptized this Sunday, September 6, which is also sadly our pastor's last day, but I'm glad this is going to happen before he goes. Baptism, confirmation, and church membership are all complex subjects with too many variables to cover in a single blog post, (which is one reason why there will be a Part 2!), but I believe that the feeling of acceptance is a good starting point for me.

This is Important

People sometimes tell me that I'm wise, which is a compliment that makes me feel very good , but sometimes I have a hard time believing it. Sometimes I spend too much mental energy comparing myself to other people, and sometimes I have negative emotions I can find no solid explanation for. During those times, I do not feel wise at all. I think everyone feels this way sometimes, it just might be harder for people like me to get over. I have learned that even in these times, if I can find something that gives me a feeling a purpose, then I can find my happiness. Right now, I have a very strong sense of purpose thanks to my job.
The thing about working with children, I've learned, is that although they can be extremely stubborn, they are also extremely resilient. Just when I'm ready to lose my temper and start complaining, something always happens that pulls me right back in. A few weeks ago, it was an unexpected question from a camper who wasn't having the best day.
"Jennie, am I a good person or a bad person?" Where did that come from, I thought to myself, you were just playing baseball with your friends, and now you're suddenly pondering moral philosophy? Whatever the source of this question may have been, I was able to answer it and then talk to this camper for a few minutes, and by the time he high fived me and went back to his game, I think we were both in a better mood.
This low paying, temporary job is important. Because children, frustrating as they can be at times, are very valuable people who happen to be extremely impressionable. And three days a week, a group of children whose backgrounds I don't always know, are watching me. They are watching the way I carry myself, and the way I treat them, and that, in some small way, is impacting  how they think about themselves and their place in the world.
Sometimes I don't feel great about myself, but then again, sometimes I do. Because I am doing something that matters, something that I really enjoy getting up in the morning to go do. It helps make me feel like I have a purpose, and that is important.

Young Adults Aren't Ruining Your Church

     I recently had a birthday, and now I'm officially no longer a teenager, which is something I'm pretty happy about, because I was really starting to outgrow that phase of life. Now, I guess I am what society calls a "young adult", a label that often comes with negative connotation when spoken by "older adults", and unfortunately, sometimes within the church. 

     For example, I googled the phrase "young adults in church", and the results I got were even more harsh than I expected. Of the top 6 results, 4 were about young adults leaving the church, one was about how to increase young adult participation, and the sixth was a particularly spiteful piece entitled "Reaching out to young adults will screw up your church" (The author didn't capitalize the whole title so I left it that way). I skimmed this article to get an idea of what this author was talking about, and although I think they were just attempting to ruffle some feathers and start a conversation, I was not impressed. The following is my response to all of these negative words about a group that I consider myself part of.

     I consider myself a young adult, and I don't believe I am ruining, or even hurting, my church. I am in an awkward phase of being to old for youth group but still trying to be a role model and being present when I think it will be helpful, and also being the youngest person present when I participate in non youth group activities. There isn't really anyone my age who actively attends my church, but I still feel very comfortable there because I've learned how to interact with people who are both younger and older than me. I have been taught to respect my elders, and I enjoy learning from people who have more experience and wisdom than I do. I also am particularly proud of our youth, and even though they are younger than me, I learn so much from them and I'm so proud of the way they share their faith at an age when it is extremely difficult and scary to do so.

It is easy to get caught up in the trend our society has created and say the phrase "young adult", with contempt, shaking your head and picturing all of the chaos we might create, but I urge you to consider a different perspective. Now, I try not to be to obvious talking about specific people on my blog, but I think in this case it would be helpful to have real examples of young adults in the church who have made a positive impact on my life. I know many of you who read this will know exactly who I'm talking about even though I tried my best to be vague, and I considered leaving this part out for that very reason, but I decided it was important, so I hope you will not lose sight of the point of this whole article because it contains some obvious specific references to real people who you may know.

When I was still an awkward high school student, someone who would fit the young adult description became one of my youth leaders, and it was one of the best things that happened for me and my personal faith during that phase of my life. At that age, it was so inspiring to see someone not too much older than me make an intentional effort to be an active part of our church. It taught me that my twenties don't have to be a time where I go wild and depart from the church, creating memories that I will discuss as examples of what not to do when I'm ready to leave those wild times behind and rejoin the congregation. I can think of several other people in our congregation who have disproved society's harsh theory, and shown me that outgrowing youth group does not have to result in a temporary end to my participation in our church family. 

Young adults aren't ruining your church. If your church is like mine, they aren't your biggest demographic, but they are powerful. They are an inspiration to youth, who otherwise might think that young adulthood and church are not compatible. When I was an impressionable youth, I had young adults in my church to look up to, and now that I myself have entered this new phase of life, I will try my best to follow the strong example of leadership and participation in the church that they set for me. I am a young adult, and I will not ruin the church. 

A Good Day

Today, I stood in front of about 40 children and talked to them about something I've spent my life trying to avoid talking about. I did it because my boss wanted me to, and you don't say no to your boss four days into a job. But I also did it for myself. There aren't many times in life where I get to explain my disability from my own perspective without being interrupted, and if I can explain it to children while they're young so they don't become the adults who gawk at me in Wal-mart, I'm all for that.
    Even though I could see the advantages of talking about this subject when I was asked to do it, I was very nervous about going against my natural instinct of shifting the focus away from my differences. I've gotten pretty good at staying within my comfort zones and deflecting away from what I don't want to acknowledge, but that was not the plan for today
The thing that was most meaningful to me about the whole experience was that they genuinely listened. All of them listened, for the whole time. Anyone who has any experience working with children would probably agree that was nothing short of miraculous. And when I gave them a chance to ask questions, they did, and I answered them.
A whole group of children listened to me and respected me, and for the first time in a while I made an effort to respect myself. I stopped telling myself that people who drop out of mission trips for reasons they can't even fully explain have no business blogging about their faith. I had something to write, and so I wrote it, because that is what I would encourage a child to do. I began to try to treat myself how I try to treat children, being patient and forgiving.
I've come to believe that working with children is 90 percent feeling like they're not listening to you and you're getting nowhere, and 10 percent touching, Hallmark movie style breakthrough moments that suck you right back in and make you think that working with children is the greatest job in the world. Today, I got every bit of that 10 percent.

The Right Thing.

     There are some things that are difficult to write about, even for someone like me who likes writing and maybe could be considered good at it. Things like disappointment, confusion, and failure. I have been learning recently that sometimes the right thing and the easy thing aren't the same thing, and it's a hard lesson. Unless you're in elementary school or living an outlandishly spoiled lifestyle somehow, you're not always going to get rewarded for doing the right thing, and you may even feel hurt and sad. You may lose opportunities that look good on the surface, and friendships that are comfortable even if they are not entirely functional. So what's the point? Why keep doing what you know is right if it's making you unhappy, and why say no to things that aren't right for you if you could probably get by doing them and be just fine, and maybe even happier? I've been thinking a lot about this lately, and this verse came to my mind. 

If I just do what will make me happy now, even if I feel that it's not what God is calling me to do, I ignore His plan and probably miss out on something better He has planned for the future. But if I endure this sadness now, there could be greater things in the future that I don't know about yet. I know that I will sometimes fail at this because I am young, human and flawed. I know that I still feel sad sometimes even though I am doing the right thing. But in the end, when God's plan is finally revealed more fully and I can look back on this time with a different perspective, maybe then, in the end, the right thing will be the easy thing.