Lessons Learned from Closed Doors

Everyone who truly knows me knows that this past year has been a combination of bitter-sweet ... dealing with the closing of DJJ, separation from my amazing students and dear co-workers whom I consider friends dear to my heart! Well, after fighting the change, struggling through transition, accepting the new doors God has opened, and truly walking by faith and not by sight - - - - I have grown to be very thankful for the place I am in life and in my career.

Wednesday will mark my one-year anniversary at Healthy Families and although I have most definitely had my highs and very extreme lows, I realize the reason behind some of the things God has allowed to occur. Yes, this is long, but God is good so keep reading! I took the job with the thought somewhere in the back of my mind that my talent and skills were what landed me the position. YES - I still gave God the glory, but I was harboring pride that I was unaware of. The pride didn't last very long as I began to see exactly what type of challenge I was in for. It didn’t take an extensive amount of time for me to understand that I would be working with a vast combination of people from extremely diverse backgrounds and enduring problems I can only imagine encountering myself.

I remember that as I sat through each training I had my usual “I will change the world one family at a time,” attitude! I was full of optimism and eagerness to hit the field with both feet running! Well, when training was over I had exactly that opportunity – and it wasn’t at all how I expected it to be.

One of the first challenges I realized that I was facing was the “people” challenge. I have always considered myself somewhat of a “people person.” I have never been scared to speak to people I have never met and I loved to hear about people’s lives, thoughts, and experiences. Though I may not always agree with a person’s take on certain subjects, I have always been open-minded enough to be their friend and love them anyways.

I thought all of that would be enough – but I found I was missing many qualities that I knew were mandatory to do this job.

First, I realized the importance of persistence. To defend myself, I am usually a stubbornly persistent person; however, I am not exactly pushy. Before this job I had the attitude that if a person didn’t want what I had to offer, I wasn’t going to force them. That attitude had to be thrown to the curb and fast. In working with families I soon received the revelation that persistence ... not pushiness ... is KEY!

Healthy Families calls this Creative Outreach. When a family is unable to be contacted, we must make an effort at least once a week to contact them. A simple phone call is not enough. We are trained to find creative ways to let the families know we are still there when they are ready for support. This varies from phone calls, notes, drop-bys, cards, newspaper clippings about child development, as well as numerous other tactics.

You may ask what this taught me – so I’m going to tell you. I did have a particular family who I attempted several times to contact over a period of three months ... these efforts were in vain – or so I thought. I have to admit that after dozens of phone calls, drop-bys, hand-written notes and cards, I had already written this family off to not want what I had to offer. I was wrong ... so very wrong!

The day before Creative Outreach was to stop I received a call out of the blue from this family. I was more than surprised to hear the voice on the other end of the phone ask when I could come out again – they had received all of my notes, cards, and letters and were now ready for me. This family has allowed my support in their home every week since. They have not missed one scheduled meeting and have made great strides toward family goals and the development of their children. Lesson number one = learned!

I compare this to spiritual persistence. If you are reading this from the standpoint of a person desiring to be a soul-winner – I want you to think about how important this element of working with people is. There are people we work with in trying to help them grow a strong relationship with God. We befriend them. We Bible study them. We stay up late talking them through life problems. We pray for them. We fast for them. We sacrifice our time and energy by absolutely pouring ourselves into them – and then it seems as if they just disappear and no longer want what we have to offer.

I want to encourage you that this may not be the case. One of my trainers told me these words: “People are human. They have problems and sometimes you are just not a priority to them. Do not take it personally. Let them work through what they have to work through – but never allow them to forget you are there to support them when they are ready ... never let them forget where to find you.”

I pass along that advice to those who work with people – and if you are a Christian – working with people is what we are called to do! People will never cease to be human. Sometimes life overwhelms them and they back off, feeling as though they need to work through some things before they go any further with God. Be patient. Be persistently available while avoiding the element of stalking. Be encouraging. Continue to pray for them. Continue to fast for them. Pick up the phone and give them a call or shoot them a text once in a while. We live in a technological world – so Facebook them or email them occasionally. Send them a hand-written card or stop by their home just to say hello. Remember - do all of this wisely and prayerfully – people do not usually like stalkers! When they are ready, they will know where to find the support they need.

If it had not been for this struggle on my job – I may never have learned this manner of working with people.

The second lesson I learned, and am still in the process of learning, is the element of providing education, information, and options.

Does this sound like a strange lesson to you? No worries – I also found it to be a little strange.

The completion of the first week of training I was awarded a certificate and a toy car. I remember looking at the car thinking “Okay ... and the point of this is?” As the room full of trainees received their toy cars and laughed and chided about them, I waited for the trainer to tell us why our training token was a little child’s toy.

She soon told us. “Your job is to educate, inform, and give options,” she said in a serious tone. “We are to go into these homes and give all we have to offer – but we simply cannot live their lives for them. They have to make decisions based on what we give them.” She went on to explain that the little car represented our relationship with people. Those we work with must always remain in the driver’s seat. We can educate them on how to drive, inform them of the best ways to drive and grandest destinations, and even give them a roadmap of options on how to get there ... but we simply cannot  drive for them. That is a choice each person has to make on their own.

Again I apply this spiritually. As a Christian we are given the great commission of “Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel to every nation.” While we are busy fulfilling the great commission, I believe it would be wise for us to keep this lesson in mind. We are equipped with God’s word to go into the lives of people and give them all we have to offer. We are to educate them about the word. We are to inform them about God’s love and his laws. We are to provide the roadmap of options of how to live for God. Yet – as much as we might want to sometimes, we cannot live for God for them. That is a journey they will have to remain in the driver’s seat to take on their own. Our job is to remain the faithful guide alongside their journey – through the road blocks, flat tires, automobile pileups, detours, and all.

Again, another lesson about working with people I would not have learned without my job.

The third lesson I learned I already thought I had figured out - this lesson being the finely cultured art of boldly asking hard questions and saying hard things. Yes, I do realize this lesson sounds a bit like the title of a book one might find in a middle school library.

The make-up of my job is so diverse that in one visit conversation can and will go from the trivial pursuit of finding the right diaper cream to levels of abuse one can only imagine. It is during these times my training has taught me that certain issues, for the sake of the family, cannot be skipped over because I feel uncomfortable. My uneasiness in approaching certain topics could potentially endanger lives.

There is truly an art to approaching these areas of another’s life and it requires me to step outside of my comfort zone to do. My biggest dilemma in conquering this skill at first was my fear of being considered “nosy,” or “judgmental.” I was soon taught through training and experience that the manner in which people are approached while being asked “hard” things and being told “hard” things, makes all the difference.

I am still in the process of sharpening this skill. There is no absolute cookie-cutter way to approach every person; however I have discovered that when people discern your approach is with genuine concern and empathy and not from a rigid, judgmental standpoint, they are more likely to remain open to the message or lesson you are trying to communicate.

This is another lesson I have transitioned from natural to spiritual. There is no denying that as a Christian bearing the word of God, there are going to be times where conversation with a person may go from a surfaced “God is good,” to the opportunity to deliver to a person the very words they need to hear that may make the difference between their final destination of Heaven or Hell.

While witnessing and ministering to people I have often found myself tip-toeing around sensitive topics with people to avoid potentially offending someone or even the possibility of being rejected by that person. That is one area where I could have used the skill I have just begun to learn. Despite the way a person chooses to react to the questions asked or the statements made – we must sometimes learn to ask those questions and make those statements anyways – remembering that sincerity within the delivery goes a long way. Our inability to step beyond our own comfort zone may put eternal lives in danger.

I have also learned that people, for the most part, appreciate a person who is bold enough and cares enough about them, to be real with them.

The fourth lesson– which I consider to be the lesson of all lessons – came with being broken and torn. In simplicity, this job has taught me more humility than I feel I have learned anywhere else throughout the span of my entire life.

Oddly enough, I am most thankful for this lesson.

See, I mentioned in the beginning of this writing that this job uncovered a pride I didn’t even know existed. Somewhere in my subconscious mind I had given myself credit for attaining this job and geared the credit toward any talents or skills I thought I possessed.

By the time this lesson began to sink in I felt like I had gone extra rounds with the heavy-weight champion of the world, been put repeatedly through a bone-grinder, and then dumped onto an abandoned island to suffer alone. That’s a dreary thought, huh? Although this depiction of my feelings might seem a bit dramatic – I can assure you what I have depicted is exactly, if not more so, how I truly felt.

Why? Well, this type of work does not take long to convince a person who thought they were capable of “saving the world,” that they have absolutely no capability whatsoever. Don’t get me wrong, I never doubted that God was doing something through all of this, I just had no idea what.

The best word that comes to mind to describe how I began to feel after the honeymoon stage of this job wore off is inadequate. I felt inadequate while educating the families. I felt inadequate in the office and paperwork portion of the job. I actually began to feel so inadequate at the job that I sat at my desk one day and allowed defeat to wash over me and tears to begin to fall. Those who know me know that I am actually not one to cry when challenges get hard; however, I was broken in a way I had never known before.

This feeling continued and I felt lost within God’s handiwork – unable to see what He was doing, where He was taking me, or what He was trying to tell me. Until one day, after leaving a family’s home, I began to speak to God in my car. I had a 45-minute drive, so my talk with God got pretty in-depth.

“What do you want from me?” I literally pounded the steering wheel in frustration and defeat. “I just can’t do this! I just can’t do this on my own. I’m inadequate. I don’t know how.”

It was then a breakthrough began to take place. God gently whispered to my soul “Exactly.”

That was exactly it. Everything I had done to that point was being done with a hidden, prideful attitude that “I” was the one who was doing everything and that “my” skills and abilities alone would accomplish the job that needed to be done. God needed me to learn, maybe even re-learn, that alone I can do nothing. Alone, I am nothing more than an inadequate vessel. A vessel cannot fill itself. A vessel cannot pour itself out. A vessel is very simply that – a vessel. It takes the hands of the master to utilize the vessel in the manner the master sees fit.

Humility was the most painful of all of the lessons I have learned so far at my job, but for sure the most necessary.

I said all of that to say this: While working at DJJ I became quite comfortable with my life. I faced all of the challenges there were to face there – I met them and in some ways exceeded them. There was nothing left for me to learn at that place in my life – yet I had so much more that I needed to learn to fulfill the purpose God has for me.

He closed that door of my life and opened this one. It took a lot of struggle to understand why – and there is the great possibility I still do not know all of the reasons why. To this point, though, I know God placed me at this position to learn some very valuable skills in order to be more usable for the work He has called me to do.

Many times the most valuable of life’s lessons come at a painful cost and in darkness so bleak we are unable to identify them for what they are. That is ... until God turns the lights on and allows us to see the lessons learned from closed doors.