A Message in a Bottle

I recently bought a book called "500 Writing Prompts." The first page challenged me to write a "message in a bottle" and I found myself surprised by what I had written. Truthfully I think I might send out a message in a bottle one day. I might write a message and send it forth to be found in the hands of another person that I have never met, and probably never will.

I've decided to share what I wrote on here. Enjoy!

"Dearly beloved, I pray that this message finds you well. If not, know that all nights end and all winters come to a close. I have written you this letter, though I know you not. If you are reading this, then it is by the hand of God that it has reached you in this moment. I have lived a hard yet fulfilling life. I have given all that I can for the benefit of others, even to the point of self-deprivation. 

"My friend, it is a beautiful and noble thing to live in sacrifice and service to others. You will never find something more fulfilling. But learn from my mistakes and don't forget to love yourself. Lift others up, but do not push yourself down. 

"There is Light...there is always Light. Do not let yourself become distracted by the oncoming shadows for they cannot have victory unless you give it. Sure, there is more darkness in life, but it will never be strong enough to overcome the Light. 

"I hurt, but I endure. I am alone, but I continue to love despite the pain of rejection. May strength flood you bones, and life fill your veins. 

"I bless you in the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit."

With Great  Love,

Stephen D Green II

Grace and Peace. 

Dealing With Compassion Fatigue and Second-hand Trauma

I'm exhausted. My friends know it. I know it. I am pretty sure my staff know it.

                     I

                                         Am

Tired. 

I've been doin' this residental thing for quite some time now and It's been taxing my energy since day one. I'm not sure when, but at some point I found that the very thing that gave me drive suddenly became my enemy: compassion. 

I have often heard the term "compassion fatigue" throughout my year as a Mentor/Big Brother but it never seemed to quite fit with what I was going through. At least, not until recently. 

This morning I had a new term added to my residential vocabulary. That term would be "second-hand trauma." UGH!!! That hit me like Batman blocking a Superman punch! 

Second-hand trauma works very much like second-hand smoking. You may not be the one with the cigarette, but it still gets in your lungs if you're present. You may not have been the one experiencing the trauma, but through exposure to the traumatized individual and their radiating pain you too begin to experience the pain of the trauma. I can more than easily say that I have personally added traumatization to my life through my exposure of multiple traumatized students (and staff). The more I pour myself out for them and the more time I spend getting close to them, the more I am exposed to that smoke. 

The terms "compassion fatigue" and "second-hand trauma" are completely related. It is the combination of the two that causes my bones to ache and my eyes to sit heavy in their sockets. Fill up, turn, pour, empty, sleep, repeat. This is the cycle of most in ministry, and so very much so for those in my line of work.

Maybe you understand that. Maybe you have been in ministry (or maybe you have a a dysfunctional family that you keep fighting to love) and you keep giving and giving to those who seem utterly ungrateful for your; you are surrounded by the weight of others with all their their trauma, poor choices, and pain.  Fill up, turn, pour, empty, sleep, repeat. It get's old after a while. And chances are that you aren't doing the whole "fill up" part very well. 

 Isn't compassion one of the key elements of being a Christian? How can it be taxing and leaving me dry? How do you keep going when you feel like you can't anymore?

" I know I'm filled to be emptied again. The seed I receive, I will sow..."

 -Hillsong                                 

Being filled and emptied is a natural cycle of ministry, but that doesn't make it easy. It also doesn't mean that you are supposed to never stop and rest. Compassion is beautiful, but like everything else in our lives it has it's limitations. Here are some important things that I've learned about dealing with compassion fatigue and second-hand trauma. 

Recognize and acknowledge. I say both together because both are essential. Identifying the issue in your heart and being willing to acknowledge it are both necessary to do the work needed to achieve rest and healing. Ignoring a wound leads to infection, not healing. 

Give yourself grace to hurt. There is nothing wrong with being in need of rest. Not being ok is a natural result of any person who pours themselves out. Stop beating yourself up for being tired when your being tired is evidence of your compassion and love. Christ grew tired and felt pain over those He exuded energy towards. Why wouldn't it be any different for us?

Retreat and Rest. Get yourself some space and relax. This is the one that I most struggle with! I struggle to disconnect from my work and, in the end, I never get the rest I need. As a result, I am far less productive than I could be. Retreat doesn't mean isolation, but it means disconnecting from the struggle long enough to reset your mind, and it means getting the measure of solitude that you need as well. 

I am ever being challenged in this area of my life. Don't give up my dear friend. If there is anything that I know for sure is that God is with you and He is going to see you through, He will be your supplement and strength when you have nothing left. I also know that He wants you to go and rest. 

So what are you waiting for? Go and rest. 

Grace and Peace,

Stephen

Cafe Providence

As I walked down the icy street back to my car I reflected on my morning. Twice on the matter of hours I had gone to meet up with someone who hadn't shown up. My Tuesday wasn't going ANYTHING like I planned.

Let's back up about an hour. I was sitting in the most cliche of places for providence to smack me in the face: Cafe Gratitude. Who on Earth would choose such a name?! (I have to admit though...for a vegan restaurant it was pretty darn good!) I sat and waited for the pastor form the church that I have been visiting to show up. I eyed the door constantly and thought to myself "surely this won't happen twice in one morning..." It did. I drew a tree of life in my art pad and I wrote a reflection in my note pad concerning Christian spirituality and Celtic druidry. Still no pastor. I ate and after an hr and a half...I left.  

Little did I know that moment was to be an object of inspiration for the couple weeks that followed.

Gratitude. I saw it on the signs. It was a word that echoed in my heart and I simply couldn't escape it. I thought about it and I came to the realization that I don't often express the gratitude that I have for big things that change the course of my day in positive manner. Worse yet I forget to be grateful for the small, every day things that I have and experience. 

So I wrote a list

Great food (The irony of the restaurant lol) 

Friends

Meetings being rescheduled

My students

Love

Communication

Relationships

Independence 

Sleep 

Hunger and the ability to find and feel satisfaction from food

Thirst and the ability to find and feel satisfaction from water

Coffee

Movies

Artists

Priests/Pastors

Trust

Etc etc etc!

Even though my day appeared to be going wrong, it turned out to be a life lesson that was greatly needed. My week was vastly improved by the providential moment. Ironically, the pastor came in but couldn't see me anywhere! I in return looked for him but never saw him walk in the door. An unfortunate circumstance, but one that led to my own growth. For that....I am grateful.

Grace and peace.

Stephen

In the Sun and the Rain

"God is in the rain."

One of my favorite movies of all time is "V For Vendetta." I am moved by the message of the movie and I feel drawn to contemplation every time I watch it. One statement that always bothered me, however, was the phrase 'God is in the rain." I chalked it down as Eastern Transcendental bull crap and didn't give it much thought.

The problem was that I took it literally. A moment of lapse of reason and judgment and a revisiting of my time as a child when I solely thought in concrete, literalistic patterns.

"God is in the rain."

This past week I drove back home from Kansas City. Rain was pouring down and it was ridiculous! I wanted the Sun so bad. I prayed that God would give me a break in the clouds and let me see the Sun.

Five minutes later the clouds opened up and gold filled the sky! My friend and I pulled over get gas and I stared at the gift God had given to me. Then He threw in one of the most vivid rainbows that I had ever seen. Wow. I saw God in the sunlight and in the rainbow. My mind drew back to the promise that he made in Genesis that every time He saw a rainbow He would remember His promise to never destroy the Earth via flood ever again.

Gabe took over the driving and as the Sun lowered I fell asleep. After a while I woke up to complete darkness, a freakin' deluge, and a road trip that had just dropped to 30 mph. It was there that I understood. It was that moment that I found God in the rain.

The rainbow remained etched in my mind as I took in the chaos around me and I remember His promise. I saw Him even in the chaos. I saw Him touching my impatient heart and drawing me to trust Him and just rest as we slowly worked our way through the darkness.

"God is in the rain."

From the storm there will be clearer air, healthier plant life, cleansing, etc. While we may not like it, God works in this manner in our lives. He takes us through storms to cleanse us, to give us life, and to show us the Sun breaking through the clouds.

Grace and Peace,

Stephen

Eulogies and Zombies

A few months back a close friend of mine challenged me to a spiritual/mental/emotional exercise that he felt would be very beneficial to me. The exercise was this: to write a eulogy to the version of me that I idolized and determined that I should be rather than what I am. Oh man...

It was one of the most profound experiences that I've had to date. It started off like this:

"On October 7th, in the year of our Lord 2015, the conjuration of a perfect Stephen Dewane Green II died a most tragic death: reality. He was a dreadful bastard that haunted the waking reality of a good, yet imperfect, human that sought to live a happy life. He brought misery and pain with his illusions of awe and worth. This sickening conjuration and ideology was a disruptor of inspiration and an idol that demanded every ounce of love and attention due to both God and to the man that so readily clung to this ghost of a ghost."

The poetic flow continued from there in greater detail. By the end of it I felt lighter, empowered, and incredibly free. These days, however, I find that ghosts and zombies do exist and they are insistent about having control.

I have told other many times before that it has been my personal experience in life that whenever God allows me to feel His presence in a very real, deep way that it has been to comfort me and assure me that He is with me; that trials were coming and He would be there through them.

The trials came and I already forgot that He was there, even though He always has been. Through thick and thin God has never left me and has never abandoned me. If didn't before, I'm confident He won't start now.

I have not "failed" yet but I have been dangerously close. In this struggle I'm fighting to be there with my Bigs and fellow Assistant House Directors; to give them the love and support that I am good at giving. The enemy is hard on my tail, but "this a recall and therefore have joy. The Lord will not turn His face forever...:

So I go to war against the zombie, the reanimate personification of idealistic perfectionism that is trying to take control of my life. I say "No. I will not give in."

Grace and Peace,

Stephen