Even the Strong Become Weak
As I sit here, in a small coffee shop, working for job number 2 after hours, I stop and listen to a song that is playing on Spotify. I stopped in the middle of writing about the abuse that occurred to a 5 year old little girl to listen more intently to the words of this specific song. As I listened to the song I reflected back on what I had just written a few minutes ago.
“Jane Doe presented to the Emergency Room with bruising under her left eye, bruising behind her right ear, a bruised and swollen right arm and bruises on her back.”
Can you imagine someone abusing this poor, little, adorable and precious 5 year old girl. I sure can’t and I write about it everyday. I write about how this child got into the “foster care” system. I write about how their birth mother abandoned them, about how their mom’s ex-boyfriend physically abused them and about how the children have never been in their parents care and they don’t even know the father’s name.
To say it’s been a rough day would be an understatement. I’ve been struggling lately. Don’t get me wrong, I have a great life but lately, I’ve been tired. Once again, “tired” is an understatement. I’ve been exhausted, wiped and drained. Working two jobs can do that to you. Today has been a “woe-as-me” type of day. After working job number 1 this morning, before the birds were even singing, then I had to hurry up and get to job number 2 for a pretty important meeting with the VP of Employee Relations and then I had to listen to my work be torn to shreds by my super who doesn’t know how to give constructive criticism at all, then get back by noon to job number 1 to fill in for an employee who called off today and lastly, here I am, working for job number 2. It’s amazing that I’ve been able to keep track of what my day even consisted of.
Throughout my busy and chaotic days, I’ve realized that I’ve lost sight of why I am here, of why I am working at a non-profit foster care agency and why I am going back to school to hopefully (fingers crossed) earn my MSW. Sometimes I need a good, hard smack in the face… or maybe more like a smack back into reality. Well.. here it is:
“I may be weak but your Spirit’s strong in me, my flesh may fail, but my God you never will.”
The word “weak” caught my attention in the middle of writing about the abuse this little girl had to live through. ”I may be weak”. That is so true! I’m not sure I can pinpoint a time when I was this weak, physically, mentally and emotionally. Job number 1 wears me down physically and mentally, job number 2 wears down mentally and emotionally and juggling job 1 and job 2 with husband, friends and family wears me down physically.
“I may be weak but your Spirit’s strong in me, my flesh may fail, but my God you never will.”
I do what I do because I love people. I love children. I love the work I do and I love the cause that I stand for. Reuniting children with their parents once they have received the help they have needed or finding a caregiver who loves that child like their own. It truly is an amazing journey to be a part of.
I can’t imagine being in the foster care system. I can’t imagine. My husband’s mom put it well this past weekend when she said she felt “orphaned” when both of her parents eventually passed away. How difficult it must be to be “orphaned” at such an early age.
I must remember, I do what I do because it is my heart, my passion and my excitement. Sometimes I just lose sight and have to refocus my eyes. I have to somehow see the big picture once again. I know I am weak, I know I fail and I know I live the “pity me” lifestyle every once in a while but let me be and I’ll eventually get back to who I really am.



