Where There is Fear, There is a Lack of Faith

It wasn't that long ago I was faced with a decision that felt heavy and completely out of my control. It wasn't easy for me to be so powerless. I didn't sleep much. I went on a lot of walks. I talked to anyone I felt would console me, as well as provide good advice. At the end of the day I did the only thing I felt I could. Simultaneously, I took both the safe route and the risky route. It was a move in my career. One contract was ending, and that meant finding a new one or finding a whole new company altogether. I went with the safety of the company I had known for more than 13 years, but that meant working on a contract and doing a job for which I had no real tangible experience. For weeks I questioned my sanity. What had I done? How was I ever going to do this job? Would my new client and colleagues figure out I had no clue what was going on?

Three months have now passed. This period became one of figuring things out, showing up, and learning. I found myself in a position of being the new girl, the one who was quick to smile but to whom no one spoke, the one who knows nothing about anything. But today I realized something. Today wasn't just a Wednesday, it was a day confidence. I noticed I was speaking up in meetings, and I sounded somewhat intelligent. People listened. People took my advice. Someone even came to me for guidance and my expertise on a topic I would have stuttered and clammed up over just a few weeks ago. Who knew I had expertise? When we're faced with change, we're also often faced with fear. And where there is fear, there is a lack of faith. The fear of not knowing what is coming is tremendous, but my greater anxiety was a fear that I wouldn't measure up.

I'd been working at the same place, supporting the same program for 12 and a half years. The shift in gears was unnerving and shook my belief in myself and my skills. I had deeply loved my professional bubble and the people with whom I worked. I was passionate about what I did, what I communicated. It was hard to believe any such thing could happen again. I didn't know anyone who loved their job as much as I loved to mine. Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of days I complained. But my complaints never outweighed my thanks. I'm grateful for many different things today. I'm grateful my hand was forced. I'm grateful that I'm serving as an example for my children that you can work, be a mom, and have hobbies. I'm grateful that I regained my professional voice.

My fear has been replaced with even greater faith. The anxiety in my stomach has been replaced with the flutter of butterflies at the thought of the projects I'm working on and where they might lead. I am thankful to be surrounded by a group of people interested in achieving a common goal and applauding each other when we see individual and team based success. There are challenges that come with everyday and with every job and with every task. It's when the challenges lead to new and exciting discoveries that we grow and see ourselves in a light we may not have ever recognized before. I am drowning in projects and a to-do list that is longer than my legal pad. But it has me excited! It may just be a Wednesday, but it's a good day!

I'd also like to give credit to a few women in my life who have really shown me what it means to be brave. My mom, in particular, has been a guiding force even when she isn't actively offering her support and guidance. She is an entrepreneur, someone who works everyday to make others feel better about themselves. She is an employer and educator, as well as everything to her family! The coolest part is that she taught and employs my very own sister. She gave her a career path, which I see as a gift that is greater than anything any of us could have imagined.

My sister Alison just celebrated being a premier, free car driving Mary Kay Director at her conference in Dallas, TX. She crossed the stage smiling and celebrating all the women that she empowers through her career and the gift of sharing an opportunity of the freedom that comes from being a Mary Kay consultant. I couldn't be more proud of that woman or her heart.

My sister Carrie also recently went through a career change. It took a lot of guts to step back from the comfort of a full-time position and its benefits and its pay. She didn't altogether leave the workforce, but she did step forward in a way for her family that her heart was calling her to do. Watching her with her children and talk about her boys and the time she's investing in them is something to behold. We all mother and parent differently, but none of us could love as much as my sister does. To see her grow and expand the reach of her heart is inspiring.

And don't get me started on my baby sister, Tricia. She is miraculous to me. She is a mom of 4 and a full-time working electrologist. By following in my mother's footsteps, she has created a path for herself to work hours that work for her family. She's found joy in what she does as a career, as well as stability for her family and pride in herself. Her work ethic is more solid than anyone I know, and her smile is even brighter.

I can't tell you what it's like to look at my mom and sisters and see what I do. They are my family, and of course I love them. More than that, I appreciate them, I look up to them, and I admire who they are when no one is looking. I can only pray to be a fraction of the woman these ladies are every day of their lives. As I faced my fears I was never fully absent of faith. They never let me forget I have God on my side...and I have them!

Loved and Feeling Lost

Once you think you're done mourning, a tidal wave hits you, knocks you down, and has you struggling for air. But you find a way to doggy paddle, to breathe, to keep going.

Not all losses are a person or relationship. Some are the loss of a thing, a name, a role, a chair in which you sat. It's a strange thought that so much of one's identity can be wrapped up in something as silly as a title or the signature line on an email, but it happens. It happens because we give beyond the words on a page, the hours in a work week, and the dedication of our spirit.

And just at the moment we think we've moved on, something pulls us back to that sad place. And however little the sting, it is a reminder of what once was. It causes an electrical reaction. The sting turns to a burn, turns to a stab, turns to an ache, turns to tears.

For me, working for the Medical Reserve Corps wasn't just a job, it was a part of my heart and tremendous source of pride. I will carry the experience and memories with me wherever I go. While I do believe in the saying, it's better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all, sometimes the hole left behind from the love lost feels too vast to repair. And while I know I will be fine - I am fine - today, I cry.

For Norah

A woman sat down on a rocking chair. Her round belly rested on her thighs, and she sighed. She looked around the room and rubbed her hand over her swollen middle.

Dreams ran through the woman’s mind, as her eyes circled the room. It was decorated in soft colors. Sitting on the dresser were a white bunny and a yellow bear. The woman smiled at their sweetness. She thought about what was to come and was filled with hope.

She dreamed of a healthy baby with strong lungs and a gummy smile to speak its mind while always being kind.

She dreamed of chubby legs that would grow to carry her child through any and all of life’s challenges and triumphs.

She dreamed of arms spread wide open with hands stretched out, ready to hug, hold and carry those her baby would call family or friend.

She dreamed of her baby’s heart being so big and powerful, it would learn quickly that the more love given, the more the heart would expand.

When the woman finally held her baby and smelled the sweet scent of new life, she learned something grand. Her dreams were too small, for her baby was the product of miracles and fantasies. And the woman then knew what it meant to be a Mommy.