COVID-19 Diaries - Guest Blogger Shalinn

I hope you'll enjoy this guest blog from my friend Shalinn - I sure did! Shalinn and I are mostly social media friends, but she's one of those people who I'm always excited to see a new post from or interact with. You can find Shalinn on Instagram at @shalinnsilkwood.
If you would like to contribute a guest blog during this crazy COVID-19 pandemic, shoot me a message. OK, I'll be quiet now and turn it over to Shalinn...
All my love,
Emily

We're all in an FFT.

I listened to the first episode of Brené Brown’s new Podcast “Unlocking Us” today, and let me tell you, Amen.  Amen, and did I mention?  Amen.  She put into words what I think a lot of us are thinking.  We’re in a Terrible (edited for children) First Time (TFT), or FFT for those adults that aren’t afraid to curse.  Listen to the podcast to get the full explanation, but basically we’re all feeling vulnerable right now because we’re experiencing something collectively that is a first for us.  And it’s hard, as any new thing is.  And we won’t be instantly good at it.  BUT, good news is it’s temporary, we won’t be bad at it forever, and we need to set realistic expectations for us and everyone that’s involved in this mess with us.

So, let’s do this.  It’s my first time ever attempting to “work from home.”  Right now much of this work has not been paid work, as I am an independent contractor and a Speech-Language Pathologist.  I work mostly with kids with Autism and Down Syndrome, and I also have special training to work with those with feeding disorders.  I love my job and where I do it, but things are going to change.  I’ll be doing teletherapy through Zoom for the next couple of months (likely).  This last week and a half, I’ve been creating materials to have available online, been crash coursing on teletherapy webinars for continuing education, having my first ever Zoom meetings, and learning what works/what doesn’t.  My big victories from last week were successfully changing the firewall on my computer to allow me to screen share my iPad through Zoom, and recognizing my own feelings about working from home.

Me recognizing my feelings is actually a pretty big accomplishment for me.  I’m a One on the Enneagram (one of my favorite things on the planet and has been for over a decade now).  I’m a perfectionist and I also repress my feelings most of the time and don’t even recognize when I’ve been feeling strong feelings until later.  My husband had been working at home even before my clinic closed (like two days before) so he was already set up doing his computer programming thing.  I realized after being home with him though, that I have trouble being quiet all day (side note - we live in a condo with no doors except for the bathrooms).  I really like alone time, but want to be alone and be able to turn on the TV or music, or wash dishes or play/write music, etc.  Being quiet all day (in the event that my husband’s in a meeting) is killing a bit of my soul.  Even though I can do most of these things (with headphones), sometimes I just need it to be loud.  All of you with children are probably wishing for the opposite, and I get it!  Quiet is great too, but what I’m really longing for is the stilling of my soul.  Sometimes for me, that means loud dance parties by myself, sometimes that’s a cup of tea and a book to read.  Finding time for our souls to be still is the tricky thing right now.

So what am I going to do about this?  For me, I’m looking forward to starting teletherapy because I’ll be able to talk to the kids/families I work with - noise!  For me it also means taking advantage of when my husband goes out for a run after work.  I turn on the t.v. and watch Property Brothers or play my piano or join in the 4pm daily dance party from @mkik808 on Instagram (which is flamboyant and fabulous).  For you, it may be something really different. 

My advice to you?  Realize that we’re all in this for the First Time!  It’s messy and hard, and we’re not going to be good at it.  But, it’s temporary, we will get better at it, and we can set realistic expectations for ourselves and have everyone in our quarantined lives set their own expectations.  Say them out loud.  Share them with your spouse, your kids, a roommate, good friend, or your dog!  Have others share their expectations with you.  What is it that you need right now?  What do you need in order to feel, even for a moment, that your soul is still?  Name it, because we’re all in this FFT together!

COVID-19 Diaries

I find myself often thinking about the need to record this time. What we are living through is historic and we don't yet know the lasting impacts of this global pandemic that is COVID-19. I find myself vacillating between fear & anxiety & calm & resignation & frustration & purpose & hope multiple times throughout each day, perhaps fueled by the checking of the news or the scrolling of Facebook & Twitter. I am doing my best to train my brain to take each day as it comes & not think too far in the future. I feel a ferocious desire to get my daughters' adoption finalized so that their future is not uncertain, should the worst happen to me. I am blown away by all of the good that I see in our Manhattan, KS community. I am grateful for the extra time with my daughters. I miss hugging my friends. I wish I was with my family. These are the things that have looped through my head each day for the past week.

A couple of weeks ago, COVID-19 was still very abstract in my mind. I knew it was a big deal in China & Europe & that it would have some impact on my life in the coming months, but my focus at that point was if or how it would impact the travel I had coming up in the spring & early summer. A friend texted me on Thursday evening, March 12 and asked, "Do you think Manhattan will extend break for schools?" My response was, "I will be surprised if they do at this point." By the next morning, my tune had changed. I sent her a text that said, "Changed my mind. I think they're going to close school next week." That day, they announced that school would be closed until March 30.

From there, my boss told us to gather what we needed to work from home the next week. It was surreal. I remember still having a hard time believing that this would last more than a couple of weeks. The girls both had overnight plans with friends and I let them go, heading to the grocery store after I dropped them off to re-stock our fridge. I began to read articles about COVID-19 in earnest and began to make plans for social distancing.

By March 18, Kansas Governor Laura Kelly closed all schools through the end of the school year and in the days since more restrictions have followed. It was a decision that broke my heart, but that I am deeply supportive of. It broke my heart that Dana, my 6th grader, is finished with elementary school, just like that. It broke my heart that my little social butterfly, Kentania, won't get to spend time with her friends every day. It broke my heart, and continues to break my heart, for the kids who are living in abusive or unsafe homes who have lost the safety net of school. It broke my heart for my friends who are small business owners who are trying to figure out how to stay afloat. It broke my heart for the people who don't have the option to work from home and have to figure out childcare or lose their income. It broke my heart for the people who have been and will be laid off or have their hours cut because of all of this. 

And I know that we haven't seen the worst of it yet. At this point, a "shelter in place" order is not a matter of if, but when. The day will come when someone I love (or me? my kids?) contracts the virus. Then there will be more. This will get worse, maybe much worse, before it gets better.

But it will get better.

We will make it to the other side - bruised & bloodied to be sure; grieving & mourning - but ready to join hands & rebuild. To find normalcy again. To take what we learn in this trial to love our neighbors better. With a deeper trust in God & good & each other.

All my love,
emily


*If you are not yet practicing social distancing & staying home as much as humanly possible - THIS IS THE TIME.* 

Caring for Orphans

I've been living and working in Manhattan for about two months now. I would say the honeymoon period in my job and in moving to a new(ish) place has about worn off. And I still love it just as much. 

My job is harder, emotionally, for me than I thought it would be. I was happy that I wasn't working with birth parents so that I wouldn't have to interact with that level of brokenness/terrible decision-making that gets your kids taken away from you. I thought I would be shielded from having to think about that reality very much. But the truth is, the foster care system is a beast. 

It's hard to sit and talk with a 17 year old foster child who is so tired of being in the system that when she turns 18, she just wants to be done - even though she hasn't finished high school, doesn't have a job, and truly doesn't have the skills to make it on her own. To sit across from her and tell her, "Yes, the system sucks. I'm not saying that it doesn't and I'm not saying that you're wrong to feel that way. But you are not ready. You've got to stick it out because you're not doing what you need to do to be ready to leave when you're 18." To try to communicate that it's not that I think she won't be successful ever, but that she won't be successful now. To watch tears stream down her face because she's been in the system for 12 years and was never adopted. 

It's hard to visit with two little girls who tell you, "I know the judge says we can't live with our mom, but why can't we live with our dad? Why isn't our big sister living with us too? We just want to go home." To not be able to tell them when they might be able to go home or who they might be able to live with. To try to help them understand that everyone just wants them to be safe. 

It's hard to recommend that a child be removed from a foster home because, even though the foster parents have the best intentions, they are unequipped to handle the level of behaviors and mental illness a child displays because of what an adult has done to her. And now another family has to give up on on her and again she gets the message that she is unloveable. 

My job is full of hard things. I understand why the turnover rate in child welfare is so high. But I also have hope. I have hope that Jesus will make all things right, whether here in this life or in the next. That his heart breaks for these orphans. 

I know that his heart breaks because Scripture is full of commands to His people to take care of the widows and the orphans. Friends, these are the orphans in our community. Jesus wants us to take care of them. I'm not saying that everybody needs to become a foster parent - it's a big commitment with a lot of reward and a lot of hardship. But do pray about it. And if you can’t be a foster parent, find another way to take care of the orphans in our midst. Support a foster parent. It is a hard job, you guys. Foster Parent need people who are understanding and sympathetic to vent to or give them a break. Get your church involved in raising money to buy care packages for kids in foster care, to buy gift cards so they can get new clothes, Christmas present to help ease the load for foster parents. Volunteer to drive your friends’ foster child to appointments, or watch the rest of the kids so they can do it. I guess what I’m trying to say, is pray about how God wants you involved in the lives of orphans in your community. Because He does. It’s not about guilt or adding to your already over-crowded schedule. Have a conversation with Jesus about what He wants from you. And if you need practical advice, let me know. J

I know that Jesus’ heart breaks for these foster kids. That he loves them with the love of a Father and a Mother and that he is filled with anger at the injustice that has been done to them. He is the Healer and will make all things new. And He uses His people in that process – we get to be a part of the redemptive work that Jesus is doing in the world. Isn’t that incredible? 

May we be ready for His call.

Meal Planning & Jesus

When I first started this blog, it was supposed to be a tool to hold myself accountable for establishing healthy rhythms in my life and to share some of what I'm learning, etc. It worked for a bit, and then I got a new job at the Y, moved, and found it difficult to establish good habits while I was working that split shift - having to be at work so early, home later in the evening, and then to bed early. Could I have done it? Of course. But I didn't do it well.

Fast forward 9 months and here I am, establishing myself in MHK. I've figured out the basic rhythm of my job (whose hours vary week to week, but in a really good way. Case in point: It's 9am and I'm still home. Note: About 5 minutes after typing this I got called into work. I'm now finishing this over my lunch break!) and am starting to get into good routines.

I went to Wichita last week and it completely threw me off my game. Something I am learning about myself (and maybe this is true of most people?) is that if you take me out of my routine, I'm not going to naturally re-establish it. So Wichita was hard in some ways... but here are the highlights...

 I was in Wichita for a training teaching me how to lead the class prospective foster/adoptive parents take... they gave us stickers for participating and it made me way too happy. Also, coloring sheets.

 

 

By Wednesday night, I was so bored of sitting in my hotel room watching shows about gypsies on TLC, I just picked a direction and drove. My drive led me to a sign for a lake, so I turned down a gravel road and was rewarded with a gorgeous little lake, complete with ducks. It was nice to just sit on the shore and be quiet (while also looking over my shoulder every 10 seconds to make sure I was still alone. I need to stop watching crime shows, you guys). Jesus meets me in nature, every time I stop for long enough to notice it.

 

After Wichita, I went to KC. It was my first time back since I moved and it was great to see so many friends and of course my family.

 

Love these people more than words.

 

But I was so happy to get home to Manhattan. I need structure and rhythm in my life. When I don't have it, I get lazy and distracted. I get more selfish.

 

This week I am practicing structure through the art of meal planning. My co-workers go out to lunch every day and it is always a temptation to go with them, but neither my budget nor my goal to eat healthy could support that as an every day habit. I also despise packing lunches. So if I cook a few meals a week, it provides enough food and variety for bringing leftovers for lunch and eating dinner in the evening.

I know you're dying to know what I've made/am planning this week.

 

Sunday - Chicken, Sweet Potato, and Apple Skillet. It was delicious but if I make it again I think I will use chicken sausage instead of chicken breast.

 

Monday - Thai Turkey Meatballs. Baller ass, you guys. I will probably do a separate blog post with this recipe.

 

Tuesday - One Pan Salmon with Garlic-Lemon Butter and Roasted Veggies (I'm doing brussell sprouts, asparagus, and cherry tomatoes)

These three meals will be enough to feed me through the end of the week. Holla.

 

If you've made it through this whole post, I am impressed. It's probably my most boring one yet. But here's the thing:

 

I'm learning that the everyday, ordinary that happens in my life affects my spirit in a real and tangible way. That there is so distinction between the sacred and the secular. When I cook these meals, I find myself marveling at the spices, smells, colors, textures of all of these foods that God has given us. When I am doing the dishes with my hands covered in suds and music playing in the background, I am reminded to slow down, to follow through. I get to see the kitchen go from chaos to order and it reminds me of a God who is doing the same thing in my soul, drawing me closer to Him and making me more like my Jesus, healing my broken places and making me strong for the next battle.

 

Praise God for His faithfulness to us, for the lessons He teaches us in the places we least expect them. And who doesn't get mad at me for calling something baller ass.

 

Peace,

Emily





Lessons Learned in MHK

I've been living in Manhattan for a little over a month now. In what I think is a typical feeling, it feels both much longer and much shorter than that, but mostly it just feels right.

Jesus has been showing up a lot in the past month, teaching me and loving on me. I've felt his presence much closer than I have in probably over a year in this last month. Remember how I said in my last post I feel closer to God in Manhattan? It's true.

What have I been learning, you ask?

"Joy is the realest reality, the fullest life, and joy is always given, never grasped. God gives gifts and I give thanks and I unwrap the gift given: joy." - Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

"Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have broken rejoice." -Psalm 51:8

"O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall declare your praise." -Psalm 51:15

Joy. Praise. Thanksgiving.

Taking a walk alone and overflowing with thanksgiving and joy to Jesus for His goodness.

Those things have been a big theme for about 3 of the 4 1/2 weeks that I've been here. Then last week hit. It was one sad thing after another. Cases at work, co-workers stories of pain in their own lives or the lives of their families, and the news, you guys, the news last week. Tragedy after tragedy. I felt so incredibly burdened and despondent.

"Jesus, come back. Jesus, why? Why do you allow these things? Why do you allow this pain and this suffering? How can you ask me to engage it, to let myself feel it? It's too much. I can't carry it." This was my almost constant dialogue with the Lord, mixed with a decent amount of good ol' fashioned being pissed off. I was feeling so hopeless.

This is not an uncommon place for me to be in. Most of the time, I have to actively choose hope over despair, truth over doubt. It's without a doubt the biggest struggle in my relationship with God.

So that's where I was all week. Then on Thursday night I went to Ichthus with Kristin. I didn't really want to go - I felt weird about going back to a college ministry that I had been gone from for three years. But I went, and I'm so glad I did. John talked about exactly what I was wrestling with and preached the truth. That hope is real and it's already, but it's not fully here yet. We have to claim it. And we can't do it alone. We need the body. Oh man, it was exactly what I needed. I needed to be reminded of the resurrection power and of the bigger picture. Because, what's that saying? It's hard to see the forest through the trees? There's probably something more profound I could allude to, but just go with it. I get to bogged down in the everyday pain - and that pain is real. I don't want to ignore it or become numb to it; I think it's important to engage with it and wrestle with it. But I can't forget the bigger picture. I can't forget the hope. That Jesus actually lived and actually died and was actually resurrected. And the same power that resurrected Jesus from the dead lives in me. Today. Right now.

I will continue to fight this fight with despair and sometimes I'll be overcome a little bit. And that's when the body of Christ will be so vital to me - to give me a hand up and to remind me of the truth and the hope.

These are lyrics to a love song by the Avett Brothers, but I'd like to think they can be even bigger than that; that they can apply to me and the rest of the body:

"I hope that I don't sound too insane when I say
There is darkness all around us
I don't feel weak but I do need sometimes for her to protect me
And reconnect me to the beauty that I'm missing"

So, friends, when you see me flirting with hopelessness, please remind me. Remind me of the hope of the Gospel. That Jesus has already won the War and it is finished. That someday all things will be made right and the suffering and the pain will be a distant memory as we worship the King in the fullness of His glory. And until then, we get to claim the hope and we get to be His hands and feet to the broken, and the suffering, and the hopeless. We get to bring the resurrection power just a little bit nearer.

Happy Easter :)

Peace,
Emily

Return to the Promise Land (read: Manhattan, KS)

Can I say that I feel closer to God in Manhattan?

I moved here almost a month ago through a series of serendipitous events. Everything fell into place so seamlessly that not to move to Manhattan would have felt like the weirder decision.

Here's the story:

I had been feeling discontent with my job for various reasons and thinking that I would start looking for something new for the fall.

I was feeling a little stuck in KC. Nothing major, just unsure of what my purpose was there. I was starting to get an itch to go somewhere different. I'm 25, single, and there was nothing holding me there - why not venture a little further from the nest? I also didn't want to move across the country; the itch wasn't that big. So Manhattan came to mind. My sister lives here and will be here for the next few years in grad school. My dear friend Meg lives her and is expecting her first baby in August.

And, I mean, it's Manhattan. The Promised Land. The town that held so many memories of four years in college - laughter, heartache, growth, humility, mistakes - the whole deal.

I told a few of my close girlfriends that I was contemplating a change. Asked them to pray for me. That God would make clear what He wanted me to do. That I would have peace and direction.

That same night, I got online to see what types of jobs might be available in Manhattan, just to get an idea. I applied on a whim for a job at TFI Family Services for a Foster Care Worker.

They called me the next day to set up an interview. I scheduled phone interview for the following Tuesday. Tuesday rolled around and I was so nervous. More nervous than I've ever been for an interview in my life. I'm not trying to brag, but I nailed the interview. Nailed it. I felt so good afterward. But then they didn't call me for over a week. I started losing hope. I had butterflies in my stomach alldayeveryday. I called a week after the interview and asked for an update. She told me they were making the decision that day and to "hang tight". I got a call a few hours later and they offered me the job. I negotiated the salary a little (heyo!) and accepted the job, with a start date of just a little over two weeks from when I accepted.

The next couple of weeks were a straight up whirlwind.

First, I went to Waco to welcome my new baby nephew into the world and hang out with my other nephews and my sister-in-law and brother.

That was wonderful. I love those boys so much and it was great to have some time off work before I started a new job.

I got back to Kansas City on a Tuesday night, worked Wednesday and Thursday, packed Friday, and moved to Manhattan on Saturday, March 15.

The move went really well! My bestie, Laura Wetzel, drove my car and spent Saturday night and part of Sunday with me to help me get settled in. I am so thankful for her help. I think I would've been so much more overwhelmed if she hadn't come along.

Where am I living, you ask?
I moved in with a girl I had never met, but who came highly recommended by my sister and John Schwartz (Ichthus pastor and trusted friend). When someone comes with a John Schwartz seal of approval, you know their top notch. Katie and I talked on the phone twice before I moved in, but weirdly, neither of us were really worried about it. (When I say weirdly, I mean that I think that God's hand was so heavily involved in the whole thing that both of us just knew that it was going to be great.) And it has been great. She is wonderful. She is currently sitting across from me at a table at Arrow Coffee (my new favorite coffee shop in MHK).

I started my job the Monday after I moved in and have loved every minute of it. It's the best job I've ever had. I get to support foster families and advocate for foster kiddos. I'm so happy and finally feel like I'm doing what I was meant to do.

Can I say that I feel closer to God in Manhattan?

Because I do. I feel His presence closer to me. I feel this peace that I can't explain or describe. It's like I can breathe deeper. I sleep better.

I have a lot more to say about my time here so far, but this post is already way too long, so I'll just leave you here for now. But I'll be back soon. :)

Peace,
Emily

Advent

If you know me even a little bit, you know how much I love the Christmas season. I am a fierce believer in waiting to start celebrating the Christmas season until the day after Thanksgiving, but you better believe I start my Christmas countdown in April. A friend asked me in an offhand way this season, why I love Christmas so much, and it made me think. 

Why do I love Christmas? 

I love it for the anticipation. Stringing the lights on the tree and covering it with ornaments, knowing how beautiful it will be when I run outside holding my three year old nephew to look at it through the front window. Finding a perfect gift for someone and thinking about their face when they open it Christmas morning. Knowing that people are trying to find the perfect gift for you and thinking about opening it Christmas morning. 

Waiting for the Christ-child to be born in a stable, this tiny helpless baby that was also the fullness of God. The Word becoming flesh, sacrificing his needs for our salvation.

I love it for the JOY. Little nephews putting ornaments on the advent tree and their eyes lighting up as the days get closer. A whole family under the same roof, playing games and reading together. Shared meals and conversations. CHRISTMAS MUSIC. Decorating cookies and drinking eggnog. Friends gathered around a kitchen table for hours. The twinkling lights all around the city. The smell of a fresh Christmas tree. A fire roaring under handmade stockings.

Imagining Mary making it through a hard and uncertain labor to finally behold this baby that she shouldn't have, but is real and flesh in her arms anyway, tenderly supported by Joseph, who could've abandoned her and didn't. The joy she must've felt, cradling the God-child in her arms. 

I love it for the holiness. There is something so holy, so sacred, about Christmas. I've seen the Christmas story through new eyes this year as my three year old nephew has been processing that little baby Jesus is also God. He's said things like "aww, baby God" when talking about God loving him no matter what. He doesn't get it; he's so confused. And it made me ask myself, Do I really get it? really? Have I become so complacent with the story of Jesus' birth that I have forgotten the mystery and scandal that surrounds it? Am I so arrogant that the thought of God allowing himself to become a human infant no longer amazes me? I was humbled. I was reminded of the mystery, the magic, the holiness. So tonight when I go to church, I am asking God to remind me again in the words of the hymns, in the reading of the Gospel, in the sacredness of communion, that Christmas is not ordinary, it is not trite, it is not about consumerism or spending or even family - it is about the selfless God laying Himself down for selfish humans in order to redeem us. 

These reasons, and so many more, are why I love Christmas. I don't ever want to lose the anticipation, joy, and holiness that make up the Christmas season. I pray that each year God teaches me more about who He is and who that makes me during the Advent season. 

May you experience the peace, love, and hope of Jesus this Christmas and forever. 

Peace, 
Emily