The Red Bricks

I see them as I round the bend of the road, leaving the affluent downtown apartments behind. The large red brick structures peak around the corner. Most pass these by on their way to the “safer” neighborhood jobs. Most dare not make the turn I make every day. But I do, each morning Monday through Thursday. I pull down Grove Street into one of the housing projects of Chattanooga. There are always a few out and about, kids waiting for the buses, mothers there to watch that nothing happens in these early morning groups. I pull in, always check around me, and lock my car doors as I enter our clinic.

I’ve been working in this small clinic in the projects for going on 4 years now. It has been the best job I’ve ever had. It has also given me a completely new view on life. I see patients who have grown up in the projects, 40 year-olds that are grandparents, 20 year-olds who are seeking out disability. I see girls beat up by their boyfriends, and people who haven’t seen a doctor in 10 years but should have started seeing one 11 years ago!

I struggle with wrapping my mind around this type of poverty, this cycle of babies being born to mamas who are babies themselves. I struggle because I have never had to worry as I lay my head down that gun shots will ring out in the night. I’ve never had to worry about being without food or gas or a roof over my head any days of my life thus far. I’ve never had to worry that my husband is going to fly off the handle and his solution to the problem is going to be using a gun on me, or the one whose anger the bullet will penetrate.

It’s hard for me to listen to people fuss about how all these people are lazy, not trying, unworthy of help. People are poor and life is hard, but a job is not always a solution to every problem, and the desire to do better is not lost, but often the means are harder than us rich people realize. I wonder what I would do if my mom wasn’t at home most nights, if I had sole responsibility of myself and siblings at the tender age of 7, if our paycheck was barely going to cover the light bill and there were still 20 days left in the month to cover things like food, transportation, or medical bills. It’s not that easy to “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” when there aren’t any boots around.

I know one can argue, there are programs, and supplements, and this, that, and the other. But the truth is, who tells these people about all this? It’s not like they get a packet in the mail saying “You have nothing. You Qualify for ­­­_______". Do you know how many forms my patients have to fill out to qualify for one free medication? I’ll let you know, your hand would cramp by the end. Add into that a limited ability to read and write, and some of this stuff is down right overwhelming. Not to mention, rules change, people with power stop programs without notice and don’t bother to tell anyone affected by it. I imagine if I were constantly having to be told what to do, how to do it, change my plans, or not have any plans, I would be disgruntled too. Do you like people telling you what to do?

One night, as I was descending from the office door down the red brick steps covered with teenagers (because we have free internet), I noticed a little boy about 5 years old. I smiled and he hid his eyes, like boys of that age do sometimes. As I was nearing him a much older man, in his 40s, called out, “Hey little man! How you be?” The boys head sunk lower and his teenage cousin’s response was, “Man, everyone knows my cousin!” My mind careened through all the reasons this little boy would know these grown men. None of these thoughts were for good reasons. And so my heart breaks a little bit every day, because there is suffering endured by so many that never gets thrown into the equation of poverty. But the miracle in this is that people keep on. There is joy down in these red brick buildings too. My heart fills up again when someone lets out a long sigh of relief when they know that I am here to truly take care of them. It fills when the kids group that meets in our clinic learns about God’s love and how it’s unconditional while everything else in their world is full of conditions.

Each night, I leave this red brick jungle and I say a prayer. I pray that tonight no violence will erupt. I pray that little children’s bellies are full. I pray that my older patients can sit on their porches without being harassed, and I pray that there are people in places that I don’t know about working to change a very broken and abused system. I’ve learned in a few short years that survival of the fittest may mean trying to get money any way you can, government or otherwise. I’ve learned that you are treated much differently when you don’t have money, a name, or a job (and maybe even worse when you do have a job because try surviving on minimum wage and getting decent healthcare with no benefits).

Each night, after I leave and pray and drive to pick up my children from their expensive daycare and drive to my safe neighborhood, I worry that I might be part of the problem. I consume and take for granted lots of luxuries that are a given part of my life and may not be a given for someone else’s. I take for granted driving to the store, buying groceries that I want, having the ability to constantly communicate with anyone I desire via Ipad, Iphone, or internet. But I’m becoming more aware. I realize I don’t have to travel to another nation to see poverty and injustice, because it is sitting outside my office door. I still feel a bit immobile or paralyzed in all of this, but as I’m becoming more entrenched in the culture and community, I become more impassioned. I know God has called me to the red bricks because He’s here…it’s just hard to see him always. He’s in the least of these and there are a lot who fit that description. I cannot turn my back on a person just because I feel that they are squandering resources or living life poorly. I cannot make that judgment, because I wouldn’t want that judgment made of me.

So next time you find yourself driving next to the old brick buildings on “that” side of town, send up a prayer, search your own heart a little bit to see behind the bricks into the lives of those who suffer greater things than you can ever imagine, who don’t have the stability to know what tomorrow will hold, who just want to have someone tell them, “I’m on your side, I’m here for you.” You don’t need to be anyone special to care, you just have to leave the boxes we’ve constructed out of our ideals, luxuries, and attitudes and recognize that we are all in this together.  

Why I'm throwing the "Old Ball and Chain" Out!

Today we are in Nashville for the wedding of two close friends. I love going to weddings because it is always a time when I think about my own marriage. Upfront I want you to know that I have a great marriage.  Brad and I put a lot of work in upfront, with pre-marital counseling and living away from our family the first few years of marriage, to get to this point. We became a married couple before we became parents, which worked well for us because we needed to know each other’s strengths and weaknesses before we took on parenthood.  But like everything else in life, it’s not perfect. We get ridiculous every now and again. My big, loud mouth likes to be heard and mainly that leaves me unable to listen over my own dull roar. Then there are days that I get overwhelmed and feel underappreciated as I clean the kitchen, bathroom, and living room for what seems like the 50^th time this week all for it to look like Sherman’s March had occurred shortly after I left the area.  These times are not the majority, but I wonder sometimes if my friends think they are.  You see, like many people, I join in the banter, or maybe I should call it bashing, of my spouse when I’m out with friends and acquaintances.

Brad is a pretty amazing guy. In fact, there are several days where I sit and think, “God, I’m lucky because a lot of people search for their perfect match and I’ve found mine!” But when I’m around my friends, especially if it is just women, the “ball and chain” mentality seems to emerge. I start complaining about how he’s this or that and why hasn’t he mastered the art of mind-reading so he can do all the things I’m secretly trying to convey to him through ESP. Then the explosion of other wives and girlfriends tends to chime in too. It’s easy to point out our significant other’s flaws. It’s easy to nitpick about all the things that don’t get done, but it is so much harder to stay positive, to illuminate the amazing person, dad, and husband that he is.

Now don’t get me wrong, there are times when sometimes I need to vent about my angst that the car keys are yet again upstairs in his pants pocket whilst I’m running late for work. But there are so many opportunities to speak to the love, dedication, and work that Brad puts into our marriage, but they go unsaid. It’s discouraging to me the mockery we make of marriage. We think we can berate it, make it a big joke, and that it’s socially acceptable because everyone else is doing it. Meanwhile, these little jabs and pokes by our sharp tongues are slowly breaking our unions apart.

I’m lucky because I get called out on the meanness (very politely) when we are out and I say something that just rips at his spirit. I didn’t realize how easy it was to “ball and chain” my marriage, when it is so many more things. Men don’t get off the hook here either.  I’ve heard plenty about So and So’s wife nagging them to death, making their life miserable, and shopping too much. And that’s how we portray our beloved to the world! Yikes! Is it a wonder that we don’t respect marriage so much anymore? We barely respect each other!

Marriage is hard enough. Some days we don’t say nice things to each other at all. Sometimes the irritation blinds me to the wonderful things I have. Sometimes the kids have driven me crazier than normal and I cannot be around another living being because my soul has been sucked away for the day. But that day is not to be categorized into the back of my head to be brought back up during several more occasions or to get a good laugh at my husband’s expense.

I am the queen of put-downs and as I said, I get called out on it. I do it mainly in groups, trying to impress, and Brad has definitely said, “You said, X, Y, Z and that isn’t okay.” I’m really trying. I’m not very good at it yet. It’s so easy to make a joke or put someone else down for my own gratification. OMG! Am I a bully? This is another whole blog post waiting to happen. What I am, is lucky enough to have a marriage where I can be told this and not hold it against him. Because I still struggle with this, I try to be more sensitive to this in groups and situations. I still share in the snowball of husband-bashing occasionally, but I’m really try to stop and say something positive, to stand up for my side-kick through life.

The truth is, our marriage is fortified when we brag on each other in public. Just like we show our kids a united front, we have to show each other that we are in this together.  I know I like getting complimented, recognized and loved on, and so does my husband. It means even more if I’m willing to share that with the rest of the world. And really, the reaction, the edification that matters is his, not my friends’, not my family’s. So when he’s caught me bragging on him a bit I see a gleam in his eyes, his chest swells a little, and his posture changes. And I wonder for a split second if he can read my mind. If we have finally reached a point where I can just look at him and he knows I love him and his thoughts have become my thoughts. But then I see the t-shirts are still on the bedroom floor and I realize maybe I just need to ask him to pick them up!  

Summer Camp...Revisited

I loved going to summer camps. I would make these friends that were from another city or state and they were just awesome! It was not uncommon, back in the day, to cry about how much we would miss each other and spend the next few weeks after camp writing letters to each other, only to lose touch and return to the friendships that were most convenient in our towns and classrooms. But then you'd see that campmate again the next summer and it was like no time had passed and the boy-chasing and gossiping would resume in no time.

This past week I have been at a continuing education conference. I came childless, husbandless, and really planning to just attend the lectures and veg out at night with no one to take care of but myself. But a wonderful thing happened, and a thing that so often fails to happen as we age out of the "summer camp days" and into the "real adult world days," I made a friend! We are in the same profession, have kids around the same age, work in the same town and just had never crossed paths. We had time to have lunches and dinners together. We got to know a lot about our kids, husbands, how we made it to this point in life. It has been wonderful!

What I realized is how infrequently this happens at this stage in my life. Sure I meet new people and at what seems to be a snail's pace, we may get to know each other or start to decipher if we fit in each others' busy schedules. Gone are the days where you get to bunk together and share meals and laughs and tell scary stories before lights out. It was so easy to make friends when you were contained in these little summer microcosms. This same quick introduction into friendship happened in college and PA school when it was clear we were all in the same boat of the unknown. But as a working adult, these new friendships are few and far between.

I realize that, although I came looking for solace and downtime and just a chance to watch whatever I freakin' wanted to on TV, sharing a moment with another person is so much more fun and fulfilling. I would've been bored out of my mind by day 2, but instead I had a dinner buddy, a shopping partner and a wine sampling compadre. And the great thing is, I still feel rejuvenated. I got a girls' weekend out of my trip and a friend that I can actually look forward to getting together with when I return home.

I know my summer camp days, the way I knew them to be, are gone. And I know that in today's world of busy-ness, it's easy to shut off the cordialness towards other human beings. But it makes me wonder if I'd never said hello or struck up a conversation if I would've had so much fun this week? I'm glad I didn't have a chance to find that out!  

Leaving the Kids Behind

Brad made it really clear that he wanted me to join him in California for his last young ministers retreat in September. I quickly came up with a thousand excuses in my head, "We'll have to find someone to watch the kids. I'll have to take off some hard-earned hours from work. The time change will be exhausting!" I mean, these were real thoughts! I have a hard time taking a break, no matter how much I need one. I think breaks are somewhat frowned upon in a way. It means you stopped being supermom, superworker, supercleaner of the universe. But the truth is we all need a break and we weren't made to go, go, go 24/7/365.

Maybe the easiest and most compelling excuse is that of the children. It's hard leaving kids behind because, well, I know what living with my kids is like and honestly to subject someone else to them for multiple days on end, truly makes me fear that we will blow through our potential babysitters in a few short breaths. Then we will never get a break! Yet, it was never so apparent that we needed a break from these little lovelies than one morning when we had had an incredibly long night (I'm not sure how many beds I had slept in), it had been probably 4 days since an adult conversation that lasted more than 10 minutes was had, and Brad was just going to kiss me while we had 5 seconds alone in the kitchen while breakfast was toasting. It was like we had set off the invisible radar our children some how possess because as I remember it, the closer he leaned in the faster the sound of feet approached. Isaiah didn't say much, just came into the kitchen and let out an ear-piercing shriek of "EEEEHHH!" So much for that! A quick peck on the cheek and we were back to Mommy and Daddy!

We stress to our children the importance that Mommy and Daddy have our time, but they just don't get it! We actually have to tell the boys we are going to a meeting when we head out on a date because they (maybe just Isaiah), go ballistic. My guess is he will soon realize that I don't really clean up as nicely for actual meetings as I do on dates, but then again, he does possess the XY genes and this may not cross his mind for years. All this being said, I'm not sure why I wasn't jumping on the next plane to Timbuktu to be with my husband!

I'm a good at prioritizing daily life things, but in the grand scheme of life, sometimes, a lot of times, I miss the forest for the trees. I needed a break from the kids, the kids needed a break from me. I needed to spend a full day with my husband without having to wipe a bottom, stay up past my bedtime because I'm a responsible adult, and my CHILDREN ARE STILL AWAKE! I needed to have a conversation that didn't end in a whiny request that was completely absurd. I needed a break from work. And most importantly, I needed to be reminded how good being married to someone I genuinely love and have fun with is!

Leaving the kids behind is not going to send them to therapy for years.  In fact, it will probably save them some. "Doctor, I don't know what happened. All I know is one day when I was four and my brother was 2, I was upset about the 4th pair of underwear my mother had pick out that morning and she literally ran out of the house screaming and pulling her hair out!" Yes. let's get some perspective here! This trip allowed me to read a book, sit alone in silence for 5 hours, have consecutive meals with my husband, talk about the future and goals, say I love you without shrieks heard in the background, and yes, we even kissed without children showing up! I needed this. I had so completely convinced myself  that I didn't, that I felt like I was betraying someone by even agreeing to get on a plane.

I was betraying someone. It was myself. It was my marriage. And it is so easy to do this. I didn't need to fly across country to get a break (but I'm sure glad I did!). The break is what was needed. Our culture doesn't know how to break. We are still connected even when we go away. We can easily allow ourselves to wrap up in the busy-ness that we never break free of it. Marriages fail because we can't make time for them. Fortunately, I have a good marriage and listen when Brad thinks something is important. P.S. He's usually right!

Some of you need to leave the kids behind. Or maybe that's not your stronghold, maybe it's your job, or your current situation. Whatever it is, break from it for a moment. Have a minute to just be quiet. If you are anything like me, that is extremely difficult. My brain doesn't just quit because I want it to. But sometimes when I'm not in the middle of chaos, I can get some clarity on the bajillion things that seem to be so important all the time. So if you will excuse me, I now have to pack to go back to the wonderful blessings. I appreciate them so much more and now have a better, stronger relationship with my partner in crime to go face potty-training, several changes of underwear each morning, swallowing unknown amounts of change, and sleeping with little feet in my back. These are the moments. I wouldn't change them for anything, but sometimes it's good to take a break!

Why I’m secretly Glad My Kids Don’t Want to go to School

Just like any parent, I’m worried about my children’s education. In our city, we have almost as many private schools as public and the debate on where to send your child begins en utero. We bought a house specifically for the elementary school. So, yeah, I believe school is important. Insert being raised in a family of educators and the pressure is on. My kids have to thrive in school.

Currently, we send our little men to a wonderful daycare. They have a curriculum that is wonderful and the staff is amazing. But Isaiah (and then Bennett, because big brother is always to be the example) will sometimes wake up and say, “I don’t wanna go to school today.” Brad and I are quick to explain and remind him of how much he likes school and usually by the time we arrive at the door he’s singing the praises of his class, teachers, and playtime.

This bothered me for quite a while. Things like, “Is he going to hate school, not put forth any effort, fail, have to deal with failure, feel like a failure, decide he couldn’t possibly make anything of himself in this world, and never amount to anything?” You can see that the slope is ever so slippery! We parents take a simple statement and make it into a life choice that will affect every potential aspect of our child’s future.

The other day, a new understanding (and I think a better one) was divinely revealed to me. This revelation makes more sense then the doomsday prophesy I was basing off my young son’s statement. It occurred to me that maybe he didn’t want to go to school because he has fun with his family. He likes to be and do things with us!

We have our days when Brad and I are exhausted and a movie is our savior, but a lot of times, we are out doing things, going to the aquarium, museums, and birthday parties. My kids and I traveled to Michigan and they get to run around with sparklers, see farm animals, “drive” semis, go to the splash park, and swim in Gigi’s pool. On the weekends, we take the boys out to eat and we try to get together with friends as much as possible. Just writing all of this makes me kind of wish I didn’t have to go to work either!

You see, I am a tad proud my children are enjoying their childhood this much! Home should be a place they want to be and come back to. When I taught 4^th and 5^th grade, I would notice the children who didn’t have a home life. The closer we got to the weekend, the more problems they had, and the more they acted out. They didn’t want to face the weekend because it might mean no food for the next two days, an abusive family member who they had to be subject to 24/7, or it may have meant just being left alone to take care of their three little siblings. Those children wanted to stay in school because it was safe, there was food, and there were adults who cared.

So I have shifted my views on this whole thing. And I’m not going to worry when he doesn’t want to go to school, because the truth is, it’s not that he doesn’t want to go to school, it’s that he just doesn’t want to miss an opportunity to make another memory. This is wonderful! In this life where so much emphasis is put on “the daily grind,” I want my children to have experiences that give them a broader respect for the world around them. I want them to know that their success is not determined by how well they stay still and how many A’s their report card has. I want them to have experiences that teach them that people are more important than things, and money buys a whole lot of problems, so use it wisely. These are things that may be touched upon inside the school walls, but these are most certainly things that have been entrusted to me as a parent. So, while we are still going to be responsible parents and send our child out to have his own experiences, I can’t help but be a little proud that he likes spending time with his family more than anything else!  

Celebration

I woke up early this morning, before any children, before any adults. This is unusual because most mornings are helter-skelter, "get your socks on!", "brush your teeth!" blurs. This is a good morning because it sits on the eve of Isaiah's 4th birthday party. He will officially turn 4 on September 16th. I try to go back to this time 4 years ago. and it's really hard to image life. We had just moved to a brand-new city. We were working on getting a nursery ready in this quaint little house and I was done with school and had no job. We were "just the two of us" about to set off on this adventure of lifetime.

Isaiah was actually due September 10th, but that day came and went and the anticipation grew. The unknown of the whole "having a baby thing" was a bit overwhelming. I had delivered babies and had assisted in multiple births, but I was never the one going through it. We had taken a birthing class (for the benefit of Brad, of course), but still the anxiety of when contractions would start, what my pain tolerance actually was, how long labor was going to last were all swirling in my head, every second of the day.

And then on the morning of the 15th, I started having contractions. Nothing uncomfortable, just different from what I was feeling every other day of the last 41 weeks. I was scheduled to be induced that night so God's timing was perfect, He was preparing a way! And then after about 10 hours in true labor, I held this little precious boy in my arms. He would stick his tongue out like he was trying to taste his first moments of life. He didn't cry all that much and would snuggle up in the crevice of my arms. And my whole world changed.

This child would put my life in fast forward, making it hard to feel like I was able to keep my head above water some days, and making me wish I could rewind so many others. He grew and he evolved into this person with actual opinions and desires. Walking by 10 months, speaking full sentences by 13 months, and becoming a big brother by 22 months.

I was not prepared for the growing up. There are still so many days I worry about teenager years, and bullies (whether he will be one, or the victim, neither would be my choice). Even now when he tells me someone has hurt him, I'm ready to fight the world for him. But I know, he's got so many battles ahead that only he can fight. And as much as I want to make a bubble and force him into it, I know that he cannot know this world's awesomeness, sadness, and beauty unless he experiences it for himself.

So today and this weekend and all over next week I am going to celebrate this little man. I am going to treasure the fact that he still scoots over to me to run his fingers through my hair (his own version of his security blanket). I'm going to relish the fact that he likes to make lists even though he can't write yet. I'm going to take comfort in the fact that he knows there's a God who loves him and other people. I am going to laugh when he tells me things like, "When I was coming out of your belly, Daddy had to pull the plug, right?" (P.S. I don't know where he got this!). I'm going enjoy the times he plays with his brother without fighting after 5 minutes. And I'm going to keep on loving him, no matter what, no matter his choices, no matter his future grades, or picks of girlfriends, because he was a gift and one that is so intricate that I have to stop to see all the minute things that it holds.

As we mourn the day of September 11th, and as my small hometown struggles with an unexpected loss of a high school student, I cannot stop thinking of how precious this life is. The last two nights I went to bed just thinking about what the next would be like without my kids or family. The thought was so overwhelming I had to think about something else almost immediately. So that is why I am choosing to celebrate. The party planning and organizing are ridiculous and my perfectionist tendencies will mean hours of prep today and tomorrow, but I will chose to celebrate. And right now in the quiet of this house, as the dawn breaks around me, I know that celebrating is a way to honor all of the times that seems so difficult, because it is a new day, and a new chance to go out and show this messy world some love.

One Eye, One Horn, I think I am a people-pleaser

Ok, DISCLAIMER: I do not have one eye, nor do I have a horn. Although, I think that both of those things would make me infinitely more cool to my two young sons. However, I am a people-pleaser and have been my whole life.

Be a part of the clean-plate club, you say? I will eat everything on this plate if it makes you happy. Can you do X, Y, Z for me? Of course, if that will mean you like me more. The list goes on and on. People-pleasing is even integrated into my job. I get quarterly reviews on how patients believe I'm doing. Now mind you, I may really tick them off because those hydros... you're not getting them, and that was their whole intent in our appointment, but I get rated by them none-the-less.

People-pleasing wouldn't be such a bad thing if it didn't make me so anxious and nervous. Maybe some could argue that it is just a sign that I care, but in a lot of ways, it's a sign of an obsession. An obsession with the thought, if I make no one displeased with me, I've somehow won their approval. It has become evident as I continue traveling on this life's journey that I have allowed it to create an unhealthy relationship with those who opinions are not going to matter when I look back at the course of my life.

Here are a few examples, and maybe some will resonate with of few of you who read this:

1. When I was teaching 4th grade in North Carolina, I had a particularly hard student who I wanted to "change" for the better. I put in loads of energy into this kid and his response was just to scream in my face. So a parent-teacher-principal meeting was called. And the whole week that lead up to that morning, my stomach turned and I hardly ate. My heart would race as I anticipated what I needed to say to this parent. And while the meeting was important and I needed to assure this mother that I cared about her son, his actions were unacceptable and needed consequences. I didn't need to impress her. I didn't need her to like me, but I wanted her to.

2.  Another example is a patient I had a few years back. This man was very sick, had no insurance, but also was an alcoholic and non-compliant on his medications. He was WAY outside my scope of practicing medicine, but I knew I was "it" for him. I had to let him go as a patient because he wasn't interested in following my medical advice. Now, sometimes we send a patient a dismissal letter, but mostly I try to speak with them face-to-face so they know that I do care about their well-being, but I cannot continue as their PA. This situation also lead to sleepless nights, stomach upset and a heightened anxiety. The day came for his appointment, and in my slightly shaky voice, I told him I couldn't see him any more. His response was, "That's okay, I just got insurance, so I was going to switch providers anyway!" WHAT?!!? You were going to switch anyway, after all I had done? I had lost sleep over you, man! And you are so quick to dismiss me?

See that's the problem with people-pleasing. A lot of times it's one-sided. A lot of times people do need to hear the blunt truth along with the warm fuzzy things. Making everyone think you are kind, sweet and generous is wonderful but I have to be careful that those attributes don't turn into push-over, insomniac, and maybe the worst, a liar. Having an opinion is important, and in the end, giving people exactly what they want to hear doesn't do a whole lot for forging healthy relationships.

Maybe the part that bothers me the most, is that, because I want to please everybody, I don't stand up for those who need a person in their corner. It's like I become apathetic. Social media is wrought with people who are willing to start an argument just to take a side. Usually it's religious or political. And a lot of times I choose not to participate, but it isn't because I have some high moral code of not entering into petty arguments. The real reason is because I don't want to lose someone as a friend because I have a viewpoint that is different than theirs. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it's truth! And some of you would argue, well, they weren't your friend in the first place. But I can't let go of that need to please everyone.

In many ways, that's why I'm starting to write. That's why I chose this forum as my mouthpiece. Because I hope that instead of a headline or short Facebook statement, a more thought-out, rational viewpoint can be expressed. You know, like before this whole interweb deal came into existence.  My "friends" on Facebook and other social media are so much more complex than what they post online (at least I hope this is true for all of you that only post memes and pictures of your dinner plate!). And the truth is, I am pretty complex too. I have a reason that I believe in certain things, mainly because of my experiences, and that is true about so many others too.

God made me a little more concerned about what others think because he also made me concerned about people in general.  I want to support my gay friends as they fight for equality. I want to show my black friends and patients that I care that young black boys are getting killed in this country. I want to be a voice for the uninsured and those stricken in poverty because it's not always so easy to just go out and get a job. I've probably made some of you mad just by writing the last few sentences or at least want to take issue with my viewpoints. And I'm still worried about what you think! However, I've come to the realization that this is not going to change. I still want your approval and I will still have sleepless nights before hard conversations are had. But, I'm getting better. My voice doesn't shake so much when I have these conversations, and I only run to the bathroom 2 or 3 times before an intense meeting. I have accepted that pleasing everybody is not healthy but having relationships and caring for others IS healthy. My prayer now is that I stand proud in who I am, and I take comfort that I can be a voice for those who may not have one. The truth is that for years I've been friends with people who don't agree with me on a lot of things, but I value them as a person.

I want to be more than a people-pleaser, because now I'm tackling my biggest role to date, that of Mommy. I want my sons to have the courage to stick up for someone even though the popular kids or their friends or even their parents don't approve. I want them to see this modeled in me and it cannot happen if I'm too busy pleasing everyone else. I want to be the person that sees an injustice and does something about it, not just talks or posts about it. What that means for the internal struggle I battle with of trying to make everyone happy and doing the right thing, I do not know? But for every battle that goes on in my own head, for as many scenarios for which I can conjure an outcome, the one new thing I am doing now is trusting that if I do the right thing, the consequences of whether people are pleased will be insignificant.