This week was a work camping trip. As with all RT groups, they are centered around a focus-or goal pertaining to treatment. In this case it was about developing and practicing skills of flexibility, frustration tolerance, and problem solving when facing challenging situations. The kids did well and I felt good about the trip for the most part. But one challenging situation lingers in my mind-especially since it could have turned out so much different. Every time I leave for a trip, I pray to God asking him to help me help the children return safely back to campus. Safety is the prime directive but that doesn't mean we have to stay locked up-we venture out into the world with all of it's potential dangers.
Little did I know when launching the canoes in our uneventful section of Provo River that it would turn into a challenging situation. For me, canoeing is a bore. I consider it more of a hassle than a true adventure activity. Let's go on some wave runners-now that's adventure. Getting the canoes off and on the trailer is usually the most challenging aspect of our experience. Not so-this time around. After launching the canoes, it took me a while to even notice that one of our partnerships had capsized. Usually the water is so warm, shallow and still, you can touch the bottom, push the canoe over to the side of the bank and hop back in-no problem. But this was different. The weather in Utah this spring resulted in more water, stronger currents, and colder water.
Once I assessed the situation and saw that the canoe was some distance from the swimmers, I called to the therapist and student to get to the shore and out of the water. I then focused on doing what I had learned. Get the canoe, tee it up cross ways across my canoe to dump out the water, then turn it right side up and reload it. I've practiced this before, but with the current, I couldn't seem to get the right angle and have the strength on my own to perform the maneuver. I needed help.
I asked the fisherman on the shore for help...no response. The 12 paddle boarders just meandered by us like I had everything under control. I called to the other staff in the canoe to come over. The current was starting to take us to the mouth of the lake. I did NOT want that to happen. I didn't want to jump out and pull the boat to shore because I wasn't sure how well the very emotionally unstable student would do alone in the canoe and thought she might tip over and be in water as well. Believe me, I considered a range of options and evaluated the safety of each move. All I could do was hold on to the boat, keep calm, and keep exploring different ways of doing things.
It took a while, but the other staff made his way over to us and we were able to link boats, giving us the necessary stability, leverage and strength to accomplish the task. Talk about problem solving! I hooked the empty boat on to mine, brought on an additional student more capable of rowing and went to shore. The one canoe of girls were arguing so much, it was a miracle they were able to go in the right direction to meet up with us. They even rescued the floating shoe of the therapist. After expressing our relative trauma, each student decided to accept the challenge to get back in the boats and paddle upstream to our original put in. Even the boy who said he "almost died" rowed in a strong, enthusiastic manner as my canoe partner. We solved the problem! It was a triumph over a challenging situation. It was a collective group experience of self-efficacy.
As I've thought about the situation, the words to a song from the musical "Neverland" keep popping into my head. "When reality crashes in wave after wave-pulling me farther beneath... It's all I can do is hold to survive...but my children need so much more than me and they give me the strength to go on...He makes sense of all of my chaos....He's helping me live life again...He's guiding me safely to shore." These snippets surely apply to my canoe ordeal but more than that it applies to my other challenging situations as well. I may be all pumped up with self-efficacy and feeling stronger...but sometime-no many times, I need some help. Jesus Christ provides that help-especially when everyone else seems to be ignoring my plight. He steps in, shimmies his canoe up to mine, and gives me his strength, leverage, and stability to accomplish the task-to solve the problem. I do my part to hold on. He helps me learn the skills of frustration tolerance, flexibility, and problem solving.
Monday, May 29, 2017
Thursday, May 18, 2017
Labor of Love
This morning I was thinking about mothers and their labor of love. For Mother's Day, my daughter gave me a photo from her wedding with a closeup of my arm supporting hers. i like the way you can see her handmade wedding bouquet and corsage- my labor of love. I hung the picture next to a framed card my mother sent a while back with a silhouette of a girl with a pony tail. Behind the cutout I can see the scrawl of my dear mom sending her support through the mail. Many times throughout the years, my mother has sent beautiful note cards with short messages and checks or certificates. They represent her labor of love as she steadies my arm and encourages me to keep going.
From the very beginning at childbirth, mom's perform their labor of love. They do things they don't feel like doing. Of course they try their best to not feel the full force of labor pains. Oh the joys of an epidural-or at least so I've heard. I wouldn't know. With the first child, I thought having a c-section was the easy way out. Yeah, that was a stupid assumption. The nurses encouraged me to walk around the hospital wing soon after my surgery but warned how my stomach would feel like someone was pointing a blow torch directly at it. They pretty much nailed it. With the other children, I wasn't able to have an epidural because my labor went so quickly. I had to face transition on my own -in all it's painful glory. With the last child, even though I jumped the gun on the epidural-they put it in crooked so half of my body was numb while the other half felt every contraction. Just dumb luck. Nevertheless, no matter how exhausting and painful, the labor of love is always worth it-if only to give a child a chance at life.
As mother's day approached, I had the opportunity to offer some financial support to a child and give him a chance to get on his feet again. I was happy to do so. It's why I'm working so hard- even though I usually don't feel like getting up early and I usually don't like how I feel at the end of the day as I pour myself in bed. In fact there are all sorts of things I don't feel like doing related to keeping my job. This week it was re-certifying as a lifeguard. I've been dreading the class. Not only did I not "feel like" doing it, but I don't want to keep doing this over and over just to keep my current job until I retire. I don't know if I have it in me. I also don't feel like renewing my Wilderness First Responder 5 more times,or taking the river crew/guide test again, or having to recertify as a ropes course facilitator every stinkin' year etc. etc. It's a hassle to keep paying the money every year to earn CEU's or paying the annual"maintenance fee" to renew my TRS license and CTRS national certification. Getting all of them in the first place is difficult, but keeping them current...well it's a royal pain in the butt. It's hard. It's exhausting. And at times it's painful. Sometimes I'm scream inside, "I don't want to do this anymore!" Yet I do it because it's my labor of love. It makes me feel like I'm becoming like my own dear mom. She kept working until she was 78. I don't know if I can do that, but I can be committed for the long run-to not give up, but to keep laboring on. It's my best chance. It's also how I can honor my mother, by trying emulate her in every way I can.
I'm know Jesus Christ didn't feel like doing what he did when he performed the most important labor of love. He asked his Father if there was any possible way to get out of it. Or at least not feel so bad- "Remove this cup" he pleaded but was willing to bear it if that's what his Father wanted. He didn't have anything to block the pain. He felt the pains of every single soul. His labor gave me a chance at life-a new life every day if I wish. He gives me the chance of eternal life. He sustains and supports me to keep moving forward. To honor him, I want to emulate his example in all ways. How I love him!
From the very beginning at childbirth, mom's perform their labor of love. They do things they don't feel like doing. Of course they try their best to not feel the full force of labor pains. Oh the joys of an epidural-or at least so I've heard. I wouldn't know. With the first child, I thought having a c-section was the easy way out. Yeah, that was a stupid assumption. The nurses encouraged me to walk around the hospital wing soon after my surgery but warned how my stomach would feel like someone was pointing a blow torch directly at it. They pretty much nailed it. With the other children, I wasn't able to have an epidural because my labor went so quickly. I had to face transition on my own -in all it's painful glory. With the last child, even though I jumped the gun on the epidural-they put it in crooked so half of my body was numb while the other half felt every contraction. Just dumb luck. Nevertheless, no matter how exhausting and painful, the labor of love is always worth it-if only to give a child a chance at life.
As mother's day approached, I had the opportunity to offer some financial support to a child and give him a chance to get on his feet again. I was happy to do so. It's why I'm working so hard- even though I usually don't feel like getting up early and I usually don't like how I feel at the end of the day as I pour myself in bed. In fact there are all sorts of things I don't feel like doing related to keeping my job. This week it was re-certifying as a lifeguard. I've been dreading the class. Not only did I not "feel like" doing it, but I don't want to keep doing this over and over just to keep my current job until I retire. I don't know if I have it in me. I also don't feel like renewing my Wilderness First Responder 5 more times,or taking the river crew/guide test again, or having to recertify as a ropes course facilitator every stinkin' year etc. etc. It's a hassle to keep paying the money every year to earn CEU's or paying the annual"maintenance fee" to renew my TRS license and CTRS national certification. Getting all of them in the first place is difficult, but keeping them current...well it's a royal pain in the butt. It's hard. It's exhausting. And at times it's painful. Sometimes I'm scream inside, "I don't want to do this anymore!" Yet I do it because it's my labor of love. It makes me feel like I'm becoming like my own dear mom. She kept working until she was 78. I don't know if I can do that, but I can be committed for the long run-to not give up, but to keep laboring on. It's my best chance. It's also how I can honor my mother, by trying emulate her in every way I can.
I'm know Jesus Christ didn't feel like doing what he did when he performed the most important labor of love. He asked his Father if there was any possible way to get out of it. Or at least not feel so bad- "Remove this cup" he pleaded but was willing to bear it if that's what his Father wanted. He didn't have anything to block the pain. He felt the pains of every single soul. His labor gave me a chance at life-a new life every day if I wish. He gives me the chance of eternal life. He sustains and supports me to keep moving forward. To honor him, I want to emulate his example in all ways. How I love him!
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