On Tempers and Tantrums: Lessons Learned from Therapy with Children

Children are more like adults than we think. They are the raw, unrefined form of us. I can hardly count the number of times I've looked at a child and sincerely asked him/her, "Why did you do that?" Why did you hit your sister? Why did you scream at mom and dad? Why did you throw a fit at bedtime? The responses are typical. "I didn't want to do this...I wanted to do that." Many times I will hear "because I want what I want." Seriously, kids say this to me all the time. In some ways, it's sobering. In other ways, it's refreshing.

It's sobering because kids are clearly plagued by the same problem as adults, a preoccupation with self. This self-centeredness marks their actions and behaviors and has the capacity to do a great deal of harm to their families, just like adults. It's refreshing because they haven't figured out how to lie and manipulate a situation to go their way, or if they have, they're usually not very good at it yet. I can see through their game and call them on it. Unfortunately, adults have the same self-centered impulse as children but tend to be much better at lying and manipulation to get what they want. They may not hit, scream, and throw fits (or they may - many adults do), but they can subtly subvert reality to work in their favor.

I have learned a great deal about love since working with children. Doing therapy with children is so different from therapy with adults that it has taken me on a very unexpected, eye-opening journey. I have realized that clearly establishing expectations and saying "no" are two of the kindest things I can do for children, not to mention practicing discipline. I aim to do formative and corrective discipline. Formative discipline is the instructive component of what I do, training them in appropriate ways of acting and interacting. This is largely peaceable. But when necessary (and it often is), I practice corrective discipline (marks, time outs, etc.) to let the children know their limits, to protect them from hurting themselves or each other. This is when I am faced with tempers and tantrums - crying, screaming, yelling, kicking, biting. I am fortunate to have support staff to help me with these. Strangely enough, I have come to expect tantrums and know that it means I'm doing the best I can for these kids. I want to encourage them, listen to them, support them - these acts show them love. But I'm really surprised by my experience of how much discipline shows them love, as I see them feel safe and comfortable in the structure I have established for them.

Children have taught me a lot about simplicity. They say what they think and mean what they say. In a world of adults constantly trying to say things a certain way or say what they're supposed to say, it is a relief to be in a black and white world with children. God keeps reminding me that His kingdom belongs to little children. While I may be resistant to working with children, because I think my strengths are more useful elsewhere (with adolescents or adults), He reminds me of how valuable my work with them is. I am greeting these kids at a formative time in their lives, and if I can reach them as children, maybe I can be one of those figures in their lives that impacts the kind of adults they become.

One of the sacrifices I have had to make in working with children is letting go of receiving approval or feedback. Working with adults, I could hear responses of how I was helping them with particular wisdom or insight for their lives. Children cannot give me the same kind of feedback. I have to be content to do and say all the good, truthful things I can, hoping and praying that something sticks. That they see love in me, even if they never acknowledge it. My supervisor calls me Johnny Appleseed, an apt description. I'm planting seeds without knowing what growth they will produce, praying with all my heart that God sovereignly gives them growth, guiding and transforming these young souls.

God has told me that I am in a season of being unseen. He is revealing to me that it does not matter if anyone sees or acknowledges me but Him, and in fact, He is purposefully taking me away from being seen in order to prune my desires and motives. This is a painful, humbling process of dying to the self that wants so much to be acknowledged. But I am thankful that the same formative and corrective discipline that I give the children entrusted to me is offered to me from a loving Father.

Letters Unread

Sincere letters written from the bottom of her soul, yet unread

But he was ever in mind, the phantom of her life

The invisible recipient of her secret thoughts

She, little knowing when his presence would materialize

Takes up the pen again after years of silent wanderings

In which truth and righteousness were her sole pursuit

The beauty of love without sight is worth pursuing

Knowing that hope takes flight and sings

When we believe what we have been told

By the Maker of the universe, who has a tapestry to weave

In the details of our lives, not for our own gain

But for the glory of His name in all the earth

Subtle prayers prayed by her parents, who with small faith

And a timid approach to the throne of grace

Pleaded for him on her behalf, when her years were few

And she had no idea what lay in store

How through a journey of laying down her dreams

He would lay the groundwork for their fulfillment beyond

Remembering her youth, the years of adolescence

In which the most beautiful dreams were born

And through the delicate refinement of time and experience

Her spirit was humbled and made grateful for all seasons

An understanding dawns upon her that each new chapter

Promises new hurdles and joys, the anticipation ever increasing

As visions and dreams descend, she holds loosely to the future

Knowing that nothing is certain but the One who is the same

Yesterday, today, and forever - the Father of time and space

Who has spun her around the dance floor one more time

And set her down to write a letter that is yet unread

Knowing that the real loss would be for it to go unwritten

Love. knows. no. bounds.

Goodbye as the New Hello

Goodbye is a word that has lost its potency for me, because it has become a cliche word. Since the day I was born I have been saying goodbye. 

At the tender age of seven, I found a world of possibility on my elementary school's vast playground. Atop a jungle gym shaped like a dragon, a group of us would take turns jumping from one dragon limb to the other, each time stepping one bar higher, increasing the risk that we might not reach the the other side. Somehow even then, we knew the risk was worth it, even if we fell and felt the gravel crunch our palms and shins. No great jump is made without the possibility of a great fall.

The lessons began on the playground and have only multiplied since. To playing pretend and jumping on jungle gyms, I have said goodbye.

At the formative age of 13, I entered into a realm altogether different from what I had known before. I traded childhood games and frivolity for teenage angst and insecurity (kind of a raw deal if you ask me). The games changed focus, but were still present. For the first time, I auditioned for the competition team at my dance studio, and I aimed for a level higher than my age range, a level higher than what was recommended for me. I jumped and fell, missing the mark and scraping my knees. Although I trod through a year of tears and wounded pride, my jumping days were far from over. I would jump again, and not only would I reach the bar this time, but I also would swing all the way around it. Scraped knees then became mementos.

To competing on teams and analyzing my performance, I have said goodbye.

Now, I am a grown woman by all agreed upon standards. My brain is beyond fully developed at the mature age of 26. I have a grown up job with towering responsibilities and expectations. I pay my bills, buy my groceries, and play the part of adulthood the best I can. Transition is the new risk. Jumping into a new job, jumping into a new home group, jumping into ministry opportunities, jumping into change. What if I fall and scrape my knees? If the risk was worth it on the dragon jungle gym, then how much more it is now, when the potential for the bar I might reach is so much greater and full of life-impacting implications. I have said goodbye to one season of life to jump into a whole new one. It's time to say hello.

So where am I going with all of this? We spend our whole lives saying goodbye, and I have noticed that the older we get, the more we anticipate the goodbye. As if we see it far off in the distance and run to greet it, instead of waiting patiently for it to come to us. The fear I have in every goodbye is what I will lose in the process, rather than remembering that in every step I take in faith, God has promised that the gain will exceed the loss. This truth has stood the test of time.

My hope is that goodbye will not be trite for us, that it will not be something we treat casually or something we run to as a way of pushing reset when we're feeling overwhelmed by the circumstances of life. One song's lyrics put it this way: "Sometimes it's over before it begins, no one takes a risk and everyone wins". The truth is - when we anticipate our goodbyes, no one wins. My prayer is that more people will say hello and seek to commit themselves fully where they have been placed. Then, when goodbyes do happen, they can be approached with intention and soberness. The only way we can take a goodbye seriously is by making sure that we say hello and mean it. We must pour our hearts into our hellos, knowing that it will make our goodbyes all the harder. Again, the risk is worth it. And we are promised that someday, hello will be our only word. No more goodbyes.

Eternity will be a haven of never-ending hellos. And the time to start is now. 

Reaching out my hand to you - what will your word be?

Hello,

Ashellen

Climbing Mount Everest - A Sex Trafficking Response

"If to be feelingly alive to the sufferings of my fellow-creatures is to be a fanatic, I am one of the most incurable fanatics ever permitted to be at large." -William Wilberforce

I watched the Nefarious: Merchant of Souls Documentary tonight with a group of Traffick911 volunteers and wept. I know so much about the horrors of what these women and girls (as young as 3) experience all over the world, and yet for some reason, tonight - seeing their faces, hearing their stories, and viewing reenactments of the brutality and dehumanization they undergo in order to be sold as products to the highest bidder - it was almost more than I could bear. My heart cries with them.

This morning I taught a fun, upbeat dance to a group of young disadvantaged girls in Dallas through a ministry called Dream Angels - it was a blessing and joy to be a part of. Watching this documentary tonight, I could not help but think about these girls. There's the cute little black girl Karmen with her afro side ponytail and Steve Urkel glasses, whose bubbling energy could likely revive a city in the event of a blackout. Oh, and the sassy latina Ashley, whose eyes say "I'm too cool for school", as she looks twice at you to find out if you really see her. With my eyes, I said "yes" and watched her exterior melt. Bright smiling Denise with gray leggings and a high ponytail - we bonded over her name, which I had at one point been determined to name one of my daughters. My point is I know these girls have stories. And I cringe to think that they could easily stand next to the girls in this documentary, several of whom are shown playing in their own neighborhoods. Lord, bring the darkness to light and set the captives free. 


All this to say - I see Mount Everest hovering before me. And all I can take is a small step of obedience up the mountain. The step that precedes all other steps. I pray that the Lord will lift me up to the top, but know in my heart, that more likely He will do what He has done before - take my hand and walk alongside me each step of the way. God is telling me that He has chosen to take someone like me - so small and seemingly inconsequential - and use me to speak boldly and courageously against this injustice. As small as I may be, I just can't stand it. All the more glory to His name.


The task seems impossible, but here is where I have to stop and tell you - Jesus has made the way. All we have to do is walk in it. He is powerful, true, and worthy. He is teaching me to walk in joy in His name, because even in the darkest places and deepest suffering, He is present, bringing His light and renown to transform them. In the middle of His will is the safest and most delightful place we could ever be. And He has led me step by step into places of deep darkness, handing me votive candles to light up the night - a vigil to show that He is not finished yet. The sun will dawn.


Something the Lord has put on my heart for a long time - and continues to burden me with - is the longing, the hope, the deep desire to see men.wake.up. This is not because I cannot do anything - I can and I will. It is because I know that I cannot do what a man can, as much as I may want to. It breaks my heart to watch men play video games, play the rat race, and play with women's bodies, and even more, their hearts. It makes me think of Edmund Burke's quote: "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing". I pray with all my heart (and have been granted such beautiful grace to watch this begin happening) that men of God will live the gospel as boldly and passionately as they cheer for their favorite sports' teams. That they will harness all their God-given energy for fighting and vying for honor to fight for the least of these and vie for the honor of God, a far greater honor.


I am praying that the gospel will go forth in power - in word and deed. I am praying that the bride of Christ will represent Him well. I am praying that I will be changed too and can already feel it. He won't let me go. I am and will forever be an incurable fanatic. I love Jesus. And His love has compelled me to be "feelingly alive to the sufferings of my fellow-creatures". Praying with all my heart for rescue and healing for these girls, for these women. Praying for salvation for the pimps and johns, who are running a system that scars their souls. Praying that the politicians and cops would be convicted of their complicity in organized crime, and instead would do their part to change the laws and enforce them to protect the most vulnerable. Praying that the demand would cease, that men and women would enjoy their sexuality as God intended - in monogamous marriages. Praying that the name of Jesus would be high and lifted up as the tide is turned toward the abolition of slavery (for the good of all) and men and women all over the world would know Him even as they are fully known by Him. 


Praying for shalom. 

Gleaning Treasure in the Dark and Secret Places

Last week, I had the most beautiful words prayed over me by my friend Mary. I haven't been able to forget them - Lord, give her the ability to glean treasure in the dark and secret places. These words struck a chord in me. The fact that I'm alive today is a gift. The relationships I have - a gift. The suffering, the aching, the hope deferred - a gift. Yes, you heard me right. Those, too. I have realized that they are like a riddle that may never be solved but that promises to have a rhyme. I've determined that since life is but a breath, I will inhale as deeply as possible - that not one ounce of air will be wasted on me. 


Several dear friends have challenged me as I walk through this uncertain time to praise the Lord. Not because I understand my circumstances or choose them, but because He is worthy and good. As I have done this, my eyes have opened to more and more treasure in the dark and secret places. Today, in the midst of an upset stomach, intermittent feelings of shame, and a parking citation - I had loving text messages and phone calls from dear friends. I had a whole hour to process clients with my wonderfully supportive supervisor. I had a job interview at an inpatient psychiatric hospital that actually looks promising (and too big for me - in a good, humbling way). I had a meeting with good friends who live to love and serve the Lord, challenging me. I had a "So You Think You Can Dance?" chill time with girlfriends, who truly care for me - no strings attached. You see what I mean? Treasure.


One of my favorite pieces of treasure as of late has been my experience as a counselor. I don't know how I get the honor to look into people's souls, hear their cries, hold their hands, pray over their shame, their fear, their grief, their confusion, and watch lights come on in their eyes as they stumble into truth and life. Sometimes I don't get to see this happen - and yet, I know not a word of truth spoken in love is ever wasted. But the times I do get to see it - and these have been multiplying - are the sweetest gifts to my soul. They make every.bit.of.the.ache. worth it. I am able to comfort because I have been comforted. I am being comforted, even in this moment. Why would I trade the moments that I get to feel the Lord's heart for a person in front of me, to see with His eyes, and to know that our present sufferings are not worthy to be compared to the glory that will be revealed in us? No longer mere words to me. I have begged the Lord for wisdom and understanding - His answer, along with yes, has been "Go where I have walked, see what I have seen, take up your cross and follow me." I have seen too much goodness to turn back now. 


When the lights go out and darkness falls all around you, it takes some time for your eyes to adjust. But once they do, you can see what really glows. It may not be what you think. For He uses the foolish things of the world to shame the wise and the weak things of the world to shame the strong. Look much more closely at what the world calls weak and foolish and you just might discover gold. 


I have. And I'd like to share it with you.


Give thanks in all.circumstances.

Never Going to Be the Same Again

It does not take much to get me excited. There are many things that capture my fancy-good music, deep relationships, dancing, listening, laughing, and learning, to name a few. I tend to see the possibility that the future holds and believe that out of this vision, I speak to the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. I see God making all things new and seek to meet Him there. Not to dismiss suffering, of which I am so sensitive - it is simply such a sweet grace of God to give someone like me, who feels everything so deeply (a blessing and a curse), a vision so hopeful and beautiful, and even more so, to let me participate in His work of bringing the vision to life.

With all that said, I have been reflecting on my life and praying with an uncharacteristic soberness. I have experienced a dynamic shift within my soul and honestly believe that I am never going to be the same again. Something has happened recently that has jolted me out of a slumber and caused me to look at this past year with a new perspective. I have witnessed a miracle unlike anything I've ever seen before. One of my dearest friends Suzanne has swept out of my life as quickly and fully as she swept in. A month and a half ago, she was not called to the nations. I even remember arguing with her about the importance of international missions, as she charged that we are all sent (which is true) but not the point. Her point was that she did not see why there was a great deal of honor and attention given to those sent to the nations, even though this is clearly the movement of God's heart among us. And then a series of events fell into place - conversations with her closest friends, a "Don't Waste Your Life" sermon by John Piper, a joy in sharing the gospel, a love for diversity, a loosening of her hands on her possessions and worldly desires, and intimacy with the Spirit of the Lord. And before I knew it, she desired to sell everything she had to go to one of the darkest places on earth in India and share the gospel, to live and walk alongside the poor and destitute. And if that weren't jolting enough, just a couple of weeks after deciding this, she went. And I can attest to every confirmation from the Lord along the way - freeing her from her job (from which she had no reason to be let go), enabling her to get into the Iris mission school after the deadline had passed, and obtaining a 10 year visa to India in one day (when they were only giving visas out for life and death emergencies). These are just a few of the confirmations. 

Honestly, the above would affect me deeply apart from knowing Suzanne, but it affects me tremendously and so much more because I have walked closely with this woman - cried heavy tears, laughed with abandon, held hands, prayed with fervor, talked with gusto, and lived through many quiet, still moments. She is a kindred spirit - one whom I walked closely with for not quite a year and felt as if I knew her for a lifetime. I have known her faults, fears, and desires. I have battled with her and for her. And boy has she battled with and for me. She is a real person. And yet, I've never met anyone like her in all my life. She has had it all - everything the world would call valuable - money, status, and success. She was stripped of it all at one time in her life, and now, she has let it all go.  I have seen a humble (though fiery) woman with Jesus in her eyes. I have seen the Spirit of God take hold of her heart to the point that she really got it - she saw the gospel in all its beauty and fullness, saw the shortness of life, and saw so many souls that needed to hear. I'm writing this and crying. I really wish you could've known Suzanne like I know her. You would never be the same either. I love her so much because I see Jesus in her. Suzanne knows the worth of Jesus, and her life is the loudest sermon I've ever heard proclaiming his worth. It has been the sweetest grief to let her go - grief because I miss her so much as a special part of my life (one that I will cherish forever) and sweet because I believe in what she's doing and the God she's running with. I believe that He loves the people in India too much to keep her here, as much as I would selfishly want to do so.

The reason I'm recounting all this with such prayerful soberness is because I can't see all of this and look at my life in the ways I have been anymore. I'm still processing how this has changed me and the implications it holds for my future. I'm praying, walking forward, and trusting that God will show me. I lay my gifts, my life, my hopes and dreams at His feet, believing that He will make them worth so much more than I ever could clinging to them so tightly.

I have been given the blessed honor of walking with a modern day Amy Carmichael and feel the Lord's love for me in knitting me together with so beautiful a soul. I am beyond grateful and humbled and surrendered to Him. May He get half the glory in this little life that He has already received in hers. 

Praying for you, dear friend of my heart. Blessings all over your precious life.

Just Breathe

My favorite line from my favorite movie.

Danielle from the movie Ever After has just ascended the stairs dressed in her angelic garb for the costume party, ready to find Prince Henry, the one whom has captured her heart and whom she thought she would never see again. About to enter the soiree of costumed guests, she stops and says to herself: "Just breathe." So light and yet full of meaning. What happens next is a series of circumstances rising to a climax, in which the prince, discovering her true identity as a mere peasant (revealed by her cruel stepmother), dismisses her from his sight and looks at her (the one whom the day before he was spouting sonnets to) as if at a stranger. Humiliated and heartbroken, she flees the party through a torrential downpour of rain, one wing intact and the other torn. She falls headfirst, dripping wet, in front of the door of her house. The heavy downpour of rain matches her tears, as she cries for all that has been stripped from her--her wing and her prince--and with these, any hope for true freedom from the slavery under which she has been living in her stepmother's home.

There is something so tragically beautiful about the rain and her tears. I cry every time I see this scene.

I tell myself to "Just breathe" often. In fact, I am telling it to myself now, little knowing what may come next. On the one hand, I may be on the brink of breakthrough and blessing, as the Lord at times grants us these seasons in his grace. Or I may be on the brink of a climax (who doesn't love a good story in life) with the rain to match my tears. I can tell that the Lord is bringing me to a place of freedom because I feel open to either.

No eye has seen,

No ear has heard,

And no mind has conceived

What God has prepared for those who love him.

1 Corinthians 2:9

I believe this with my whole heart. How can I have made it this far, clinging to the Lord's hand with everything in me, and not believe it? I cashed in all my chips too long ago to remember. If He doesn't show up, I'm screwed.

I have many hopes and dreams. And they have been the food of my mind and heart for so long. Just as he did with Isaac, God has brought them to the chopping block (repeatedly, mind you) and asked me if I love Him enough to place them on the altar and trust Him no matter what. With tears in my eyes, I have said "yes" a hundred times and will say "yes" a hundred times more. Originally, I said "yes" because I hoped it meant He would spare my hopes and dreams, that if I proved my allegiance, He would provide a ram to sacrifice in their place. Now, I say "yes" because as wonderful as my hopes and dreams are, they don't own me anymore. This is freedom. I am full of praise in this moment because I know He loves me enough to not only set me free of my desire for the wrong things but also to set me free from my inordinate desire for the right things.

I have a job interview tomorrow. I don't really know what to expect, and that's ok. I don't even remember applying for this job, which makes me all the more curious about it. I'm praying that God will provide for my needs, give me a full time or almost full time counseling position (at least 30 hours a week), and enable me to obtain ample training and experience through the job opportunity.

I like happily-ever-afters. And I love the movie Ever After, because it does not just present a caricatured princess that goes from poverty to riches in one slide. Ever After shows a woman, who after experiencing loss, hardship, and rejection, comes out on the other side as strong as gold, though not as hard as steel--her strength is just as impressive as her gentleness and kindness. This is why I consider it my favorite movie. Her character development is one that I long for and pray for.

I want to be as wise as the serpent and as gentle and pure as the dove. I pray that I am aware of the pain and suffering in the world, even entering into it as the Lord calls me to. But I pray that it never hardens me. By the Lord's grace, may He be strong and gentle in me. May the gift of mercy continue to flow from my every pore. I will hug and comfort the brokenhearted and speak words of life into them. May the gift of prophecy also continue to grow in me, as He gives me appropriate words of truth to share with individuals and with the body.

I don't know anything about what is coming next, but I do think I am onto something with my inclination to "Just breathe".

*deep breath*

More to come.