Sunday, September 16, 2012

Willing to Risk Again

Several times this week I have found myself talking to new couple clients about their relationships, and how hurt has caused them to feel withdrawn from their partners. Sometimes this distance has lasted for years, the human need for support, connection and understanding no longer expected from their spouse. 

One of the most important aspects of relationship repair is the willingness to risk being open to a partner who has been months or years at odds with our needs and hopes. Couple therapy at its best keeps both people focused on their individual efforts, while being confident, through actions and words in the therapy room and out, that the partner is doing the same hard work. 

It can feel like being open to injury. Like you are just asking for your partner to hurt you again. Many people resist, and for every right reason! But repairing such pain means turning toward your partner and feeling what you feel, expressing your hurt and disappointment, asking for what you need again, and being willing to see if your openness can be met with a similar effort of apology, repair, and affection by your partner. That's what a good couple therapist does every day with couples, with compassion, encouragement and patience. It's not a free-for-all in therapy sessions. If it is, run in the other direction. 

When deciding whether to go to couples therapy, this is one question you will need to answer: am I willing to be open again to this person, this one I once loved, and see what I feel, what they have to say, what they have experienced, and work together for new, common ground? 

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Should I or Shouldn't I ?

In a couple of weeks I will be voted off the active clergy roster of the ELCA.

This means that the Church that ordained me no longer will consider me a pastor. All this comes about not because of any Church mean-spirited-ness or personal failure on my part. I left the parish in 2004 to become a family therapist, and because I'm not involved in ministry as a pastor any more, I'm no longer "official" in the way Lutherans understand the ordained ministry. For these 8 years, I've gotten a pass as someone "On Leave from Call." That grace has run out. So be it.

I've worked hard since 2004 to let this adult identity of mine go.
I planned to be a pastor since I was 16 ( I KNOW, right?!) and was one, full time, through unemployment and interviews, singleness and marriage, pregnancies and parenting, healthy churches and not, solo jobs and staff positions, parsonages and mortgages for 20+ years. That's one deeply held self understanding. And I'm proud of the pastor and person I was, despite my own obvious flaws and mistakes. In the end, the job was so full of politics, dissembling and distress, I threw in the towel.

I'm very happy as a therapist. I find the study of human mental health provides me with answers to questions I had been asking all my life about why people behave, believe and relate the way they do. I'm so much happier working for myself, and every mistake and every success belongs to me alone. I love helping people heal in ways I had only imagined as a pastor. I really enjoy my therapist colleagues. All in all, it was exactly the right thing for me to do.

Part of being on the roster meant that I had to be a member of an ELCA congregation. Now that I am going to be released, that no longer applies. I have been attending the Episcopal church for these 8 years, and my husband and both children were received into adult membership over the years. So that leaves me the next quandary in my spiritual journey: is it time to join the Episcopal Church?

It's a bit like leaving a family. Am I ready to join another family of faith now that I'm contractually released from my first? Is church membership even important anymore? The death knell for the organized Church in its American forms has been sounding for the last 10 years. Is being received as an official member important to the Episcopal church as it struggles to be in mission despite its own internal strife?

I'm clearly on the fence, and it's not all that comfortable up here. It's certainly not anything I had anticipated 20 years ago. But then again, not much is. 



Friday, June 29, 2012

You'd Be Proud

We put our one and only (in every sense of this phrase) 16 year old daughter on a plane to Germany two weeks ago. She has been traveling with a group of German language students and their teacher to the motherland, a trip that has been all year in the making.

It was a rather anxious start. Worst was the torrent of rain that she and I drove in from home to the Minneapolis airport. It was probably the worst rain I have ever driven in. If we hadn't had to meet an international flight, I would have pulled over and waited it out. It was as bad as night-time blizzards here in the Midwest, for those who have had that very unpleasant, life-threatening experience. It was all I could do to follow the tail lights of the car ahead of me. Poor daughter. She was already nervous, and she wisely put her head down, closed her eyes, and (I hope) prayed her way through about 15 miles of serious crazy. By the time we arrived at the airport, my head was buzzing with adrenaline, cortisol and every other emergency hormone the human body can pump out. But we made it, and so did everyone else.

They left relatively on time, but arrived exhausted and hungry in Amsterdam, and then had to drag their considerable luggage and weary selves over hill and dale, through airport, tram, train and street to their first stay, a rather nice hostel. Our daughter and I have Blackberry phones, and have been able to text at no cost internationally (RIM, you still rule, don't give up!) and that first night she shared freely the stresses and strains of the day.

Wonderfully, it all improved with food and sleep and she has been having a remarkable, life-shaping experience visiting Germany and her surrounds. She returns this coming Monday, and we can't wait to hear every detail she cares to share. 

What this trip also did was thrust my husband and I back to the future, being child-free for over 2 weeks, the longest we have been alone together since 1992 when our son was born. That's a long time, and I'm happy to say, it has been a pleasure to talk to each other about more than work, home and our children's lives and schedules. It's been nice to remember what it was like to live, the two of us, before children, and what, God willing, it will be like for much of the time in a couple more years when both our children will be collegians.

We're praying every day for both our children, who, though on very different paths, and very different persons, are at the center of who we are as people. We are forever different because of them. But happily, our lives didn't come to a screeching halt because they haven't been home. We are family, wherever we are. And when empty nesting comes, we're going to be alright.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012