I sat in class tonight and went over a checklist with the professor on what was needed to get my MFT (marriage and family therapy) license from the state. I was shocked to find myself feeling really stressed out and overwhelmed by the reality of something I've wanted for so long being so close within reach. I have wanted a masters degree since I was old enough to understand what one was. Although I have every intention of going for my doctorate, it still hasn't hit me I will be graduating in a few short months with my MFT. It made me think of a song I heard on the radio the other day by Drake. In the main chorus he keeps saying (singing? rapping?) "What am I afraid of , this is supposed to be what dreams are made of"... my initial response to this song was indifference, really; but after tonight I get it. I sat and thought back to my beginning days of college, remembered all the jobs I worked, most of them at the same time, to get to this point. I remembered my Dad bringing me his credit cards to go buy my school books, I remember staying up all night to study, times I took tests and felt ecstatic my work had paid off. I remembered times I would have horrible nights at work, waitressing, and having to tell myself over and over, "your day will come, there is a purpose" to keep myself from quitting. It blows my mind the same girl who couldn't decide what elective to take will be graduating.


I sound like I'm narrating the series finale of a long running sitcom, but there's a point to this.



The passion with which I began my academic journey has changed. I don't think I can say it's more, or less, but it's different. I have always wanted to be a psychologist to help people. I was the friend everyone told their problems too, and I was sensitive enough from having experienced my own that I was a really good combination of listener, and load carrier; but, I would be lying I didn't say the young girl who started college a few years ago had a passion for the money, success, and potential status a high- profile career could bring me. I had young visions of myself in killer suits and driving expensive cars, working in some corporate building somewhere, doing what I love to do. The problem is, I'm now realizing, I don't think I knew what I loved more back then.



Going through the things I have gone through, put my family through, been put through, or watched others go through in the past couple years has changed me. I went through enough to completely break me down to the core, and I was lucky enough to turn to God, and ask Him for help in rebuilding me. I hated every minute of the past couple of years struggles, but I know, if there were any purpose in any of it, at all, it was to teach me a genuine compassion that penetrates me from the inside out. I can FEEL the hurt of others, I can FEEL the embarrassment of accepting one's part in making a mistake, I can appreciate the humanness of us people, and I have delved into God's word in a way that gives me a better basis for guiding one through their own battle more than any textbook I could memorize.



So, what's the point right?



The point is a twelve hour shift goes by faster at work for me than a 6 hour shift; because my brain has prepared and accepted it will be spending a significant amount of time at work and there's really no point in clock watching. I feel like I am working a six hour shift in my life right now. I feel like I spent the years acquiring my bachelors dreaming of this day... but having it exist far enough in the future I didn't fear what I would do it when it got here. I started my masters program with such a long check list of things to complete that I allowed myself to be excited I had reached this level, but was still safe enough to know it would be a long time before I would be in the position to put my money where my mouth is.



Well my money is meeting my mouth, and I am quite honestly terrified.



What if I am horrible? What if people hate me? What if my clients walk away without realizing how much we both want them there to grow, learn, expand. What if every dream I have had is here, and I don't know what to do with it? What if I'm a much better MFT student than I am a MFT?



What if I finally put down my control issues and trusted that God wouldn't bring me this far to just leave me there?

What if I put my money where my prayers are?

What if my first thought when I get this overwhelmed was "God is with me", instead of "you're going to fail", "you're going to embarrass yourself". ....blah blah blah. Remember as kids those graphic design pictures that looked like a big jumble of whatever repeated shape was chosen for that picture repeated over and over? Like a pink and green squiggle over and over on the paper from top to bottom, but if you did some magic trick with your face and stared at it closely for thirty seconds and then pulled back and looked again, or whatever combination of craziness I could never sit still long enough to figure out, there would be an image in there. There would be a dog, or a hammer, or whatever it is.... like a highlights picture search that would take you forever to find the ax in the tree trunk.... with both of those things it took me a frustratingly long time to see what I needed to see. I would have given up many times if it weren't for the pure fact I couldn't justify to myself walking away from something after investing that much time...... well... how do I walk away from this dream after finally seeing it here, in front of me? I have seen the ax in the tree truck and now, no matter how hard I try, I can't UN-see the ax. It's there. I can comprehend that at one time that tree looked like a tree to me, but now, it looks like a tree trunk with an ax in it, and my brain will never see it otherwise. I realize there was a time in my life that my wrists didn't have tattoos on them, but I can't remember that anymore. I can't remember what I looked like with braces, although at the time I couldn't remember what I looked like without them, and I can't remember what my life's purpose was up until God showed me through pursuing "my "dreams. I can't UN-do the nights I have walked out of class, floated out of class, knowing I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I guess I am telling myself this more than I am expecting anyone to read it and understand it. It's like an electronic stamp in my world that I can come back to anytime I think I am seeing a regular old tree trunk, to remind me with pink and green squiggle patterns that there is, in fact, still an ax there.

God never brings us anywhere we aren't capable of being. I just have to remember that when I'm seeing bare wrists through the tattoos.