Counseling

11.11.13
 
     I had another counseling session with Kate on Monday, and I had booked an extended time with her because I had missed the last week. I could tell that I wanted the extra time because I felt like I had a lot to talk to her about. I needed to prep with her for my return to work on Wednesday, and I wanted her feedback on how the counseling session with Alex went.
     I am chronically early everywhere I go, and I usually carry a book with me to read in the downtime between my arrival and my appointment. It physically pains me when I know I am going to be late to something, even something as trivial as a movie time (I like to see the previews!). Alex is pretty much the same way, which is definitely better than one of us always being chronically late.
     I had started reading a book by Lisa Bevere called Girls with Swords: How to carry your cross like a hero. Lisa had come and talked at our church in February for the Fearless conference, and I was inspired by her direct commentary on spiritual warfare. The funny thing was, I had bought this book back then and had only made it through about the first ten pages when I decided that I needed to prioritize a little bit differently and read through pregnancy books instead of this one. Lisa had told us a little bit about the book during the conference, and she likened us to the character of Sarah Connor in The Terminator (I've never seen this movie, so I won't try to rehash it here. Hopefully you get the reference). The whole gist of Sarah's character is that time travelers from the future come back and have a battle over her life because she has such a powerful influence on the future. Lisa writes in her book how this is remarkably similar to how Satan treats the followers of Christ. She says, "He knows your potential and is systematically trying to undermine your future." Wow. She also goes on to say, "He [Satan] has a longstanding history of hatred toward women, and there is no surer way to wound a woman than to attack her children." Good gracious, this woman is speaking directly to me.
     I put my book away as Kate called me up to her office. As usual, she slipped off her shoes and curled up in her chair by her desk and waited while I did the same on her couch. "So, how's it going?" she started. I always wonder where I'm suppose to start on these things, but inevitably the words just come tumbling out without much of a filter.
     I started with Sam. I told her how anxious I was for Thursday to come for her, and how badly I had wanted to hop on a plan and go to Houston just so I could take her sweet face in my hands and look her directly in the eyes and tell her not to worry. "Did you ever think that maybe God is working on something in Sam right now and He is asking her to trust him?" she offered. Hmm. I didn't really know what to think about that. I suppose I would like to think that this story is all about me all of the time, but she was right in that even if I had gotten on the plane and gone down to Houston, Sam's story wouldn't have really been changed. She would still have been anxious and ready to meet her son.
     We moved on and talked about my return to work. I was honestly ready to return to my job because I genuinely enjoy it, but at the same time I had a pit in my stomach when I thought about seeing everyone again. It would be 8 weeks to the day that I would return to work, and everyone there I hadn't seen since Kaitlyn's memorial service. I don't know that I was necessarily worried about people saying things, but it was more of worrying that everyone would remember where I was from the memorial service and assume that I was still in that place. I had done a lot of grieving over the last 8 weeks, and where I was in that initial week was a completely different place from where I was now. I didn't want people to hug me, or ask me how I was doing in the whispered tones. I just wanted to get back to work and not be stuck in the house anymore. I wanted a schedule and something to snap my mind out of all the emotional trauma it had been through. Kate recommended that I have my "tag line" such as, "we are doing as well as can be expected in the circumstances." I tried to have a program response, but it just felt fake. These people I was going back to work with are my family in Dallas. They have watched me grow and mature over the last 5 years, and I wanted to be genuine with them. They took the time to come and show Alex and I that they care; the least I could do is not disrespect that friendship by giving a pre-programmed response. I just knew that I wanted to get to work and get it over with, but at the same time was anxious about the transition.
   
     There was a moment one morning when I was brushing my teeth where I had a sort of thought: a vision, if you will allow me to call it that. I was thinking about how much I miss Kaitlyn. I miss her every day, I miss the weight of her, I miss being able to play with her hair. I miss the dreams I had for her, of her, as a toddler, as a baby. I miss her nose and how much it looks like mine did when I was little. I wondered what her voice would have sounded like.
      Kaitlyn was real. Nobody could ever deny that. But even though I grew Kaitlyn and knew her personality and had dreams of who she would become, I can't hold Kaitlyn right now. I can't see her, I can't touch her skin or smell her hair and tell her how much I love her. It is such incredibly exquisite pain to think about my daughter sometimes. Even as I sit and write this, I have tears rolling down my face.
      But the vision I had was of Kaitlyn in heaven, in the spirit world. I know that my daughter was alive and well within me for nearly 39 weeks. I felt her kicks and barrel rolls (as I use to call them). I felt her bone rub against my own under my rib cage. But Kaitlyn isn't here. She went on to be with her true maker.
       I wondered if the ache I have to hold my daughter is what God feels for non-believers. He knows every inch of their personality, just like I know Kaitlyn's. I can tell you what her favorite color would have been, and that she would have loved animals. Maybe she would have been a vet when she grew up. God knits every living being on this planet together in their mother's wombs. He designs each of us with different quirks and different talents. He knows us even before the world knows us. But when we commit that first sin with knowledge of doing wrong, we die to Him. "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." Romans 3:23. That doesn't make us any less real to Him, He aches for our presence. He wants our relationship to be restored.
      There is nothing that I wouldn't do to have my daughter back in my arms. I would have gladly given my life to save hers. God created that choice in Jesus, and gave us the opportunity for restoration. What would it be like if my daughter suddenly cried from the other room? Would I not throw this computer off my lap and sprint to her side? I imagine what absolute joy I will feel when we are finally reunited in heaven, and I truly believe that my heavenly Father greeted Kaitlyn, will greet me, and has greeted every believer that has gone on before us the same way.