There is a Point . . .

I waited patiently . . . sometimes impatiently. God had released me from this place. But I felt strongly that, as much as I wanted to run, the right thing to do was to pray until God called me somewhere else. Five months passed, a time of praying and waiting. Growing. And now my prayers have been answered. God has made it clear to me where to go. And I’m going. The joy and peace I feel is indescribable! My point? I’m not quite sure yet . . . but there is a point. I guess I’ll have to pray and wait to find out.

041909

Okay, this week was pretty much awesome. God is doing lots of cool things that I can't even wrap my mind around. All I can do is thank Him!

Fairytale

Today I had a confrontation that was years in the making. I'm not particularly good at confrontation in situations where its not clearly my role to confront, but fortunately this conversation took place via text. I know. I'm weak. I feel like someone I care about is taking advantage of people I love very much, and I couldn't stand it any longer. I feel like it was a justified, righteous anger and I was careful not to use words that were not from a heart of love. The end result: I feel awesome. Confrontation usually leads to defensiveness and lashing out, and this was no exception, but I feel a sense of peace about the situation. The person said the one thing I always knew he would, the one thing I never could quite predict my response to.

"Just go on about your fairytale life."

I wanted to bite back. So badly. I started to think of a hundred ways to respond, but stopped myself. There is no reasoning with him when it comes to this.

And the truth is, my life really is a fairytale.

Hair Crisis

I know. I’m lame. But I’m in desperate need of a trim and I’m wondering if that’s not all I need. When I was first promoted to my current position I had an awesome emo cut thanks to my talented, licensed cosmo wife, but it just wasn’t appropriate to wear to court (which I attend a lot because of my job) so I let it grow. Problem is, I never stopped. It grew and grew and after fifteen months of only a trim here and there I went from Pete Wentz to Kurt Cobain. I’m in need of change. Maybe the mop on top is a good place to start. Or not . . .

Kiera Gets Crap, But I Give Her Props!

-V- brought my attention to this public awareness campaign against domestic violence. This cause has a special place in my heart after losing a loved one to domestic violence. Apparently Kiera Knightly, the actress in the video, is catching a lot of slack for making such a graphic statement against domestic violence. This seems odd to me because if she would have portrayed a battered girlfriend in a large production film she would have probably been nominated for some sort of award. But instead of glorifying violence in a film, she draws attention to the devastation it brings into so many homes and gets crap for it. Which I think is crap.

Julian Beever and His Amazing Chalk Art

This man is crazy talented! All he uses for his creations is chalk! Even the water in the picture below is drawn with chalk! His eye for detail and dimension are incredible.

A Day I Just HAVE to Blog About!

The adventure began early when one of my clients became so aroused while in school he couldn’t contain himself. He was brought back to the cottage where we attempted to redirect his focus towards something more appropriate. Despite our efforts, the teen masturbated without any hesitation, right in front of my staff and myself. Coincidently, I was working on seeking a more appropriate placement for this child right before his behavioral outbursts. He is actively psychotic, hallucinating about people telling him to do sexual things, so it was determined that a temporary hospitalization was necessary to address his mental health issues. This type of change in placement involves a large stack of paper work, tracking down tons of pre-existing documents, and lots of interdisciplinary communication. Basically, life becomes a whirlwind for about four or five hours. Well, in the midst of this whirlwind yesterday, I learned that the bank that Kimberly works at was robbed. She was safe and unharmed, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how something unfortunate could have happened. My thoughts were racing about how scared she must have been and I just wanted to be with her. I tried to muster up enough focus to complete my task for work and delegated some of the responsibilities I was handling to my staff to speed up the process. I had one last thing to do, then I was going to go be with Kimberly. I needed to inform the teen’s father that his son was being hospitalized. I thought it would be an awkward conversation, maybe even a little emotional, but didn’t expect anything out of the ordinary. I called the father and as gently as possibly explain the situation. The father promptly told me, “Well, you better put on your bullet proof vest because it’s about to be a blood bath!” The threats continued for about twelve minutes. He also made threats involving some other people, and I had a moral and professional obligation to notify them immediately. There is nothing quite like sitting down with a mother and saying, “So, you’re son is going to a mental hospital. By the way, when I called to tell your ex-husband about it he said he was going to kill you and kidnap your other child.” Needless to say, it was an awful conversation to have. Finally, I got to leave work and went to the city hall to report the threats. This took about an hour. The officer was very nice but he made it clear that threats to care providers only tend to be taken seriously when it is directed towards a probation officer or a teacher. Special charges are pressed against criminals who threaten these people, and I’m not one of them. I really didn’t want to report the threats, but my supervisor at work made me. It just seems like it’s only going to make this crazy man hate me and want me dead even more. Speaking of which, today I’m changing my blog settings so only people with permission may read it. I guess that’s probably just the smart thing to do when someone says they’re going to shoot you. So anyway, I finally made it home to Kimberly. We can’t help but be in shock. What a crazy coincidence that we would have these experiences on the same day! Crazy!