thirteen: steps to counseling

I walked into the office with a red cup of non-alcoholic liquid courage in my hands and two people next to me for moral support (or maybe to make sure I didn't turn and run). As I sat in the waiting area, I swear the pterodactyl-sized butterflies in my stomach had babies. I'd been anxious about this appointment since I boarded the way-too-small plane in DC, bound for Columbus. If I'm honest, I'd been anxious about this appointment since the moment I decided to come to America for this very reason. He stepped into the waiting room to introduce himself and "collect" me. As we exited together, I turned my head for a last glance at my smiling friend. I heard again her words from not thirty minutes before: "I am so proud of you." I smiled back and I'm sure it looked tentative and apprehensive. I don't have a very good poker face.

It was thirteen steps from that door to the couch in his office where I found a seat and spent the next hour. For me, for whom trust is paramount and yet not easily given, it was a daunting thing to bare my soul to a complete stranger. And yet, at the same time, I felt completely comfortable. I walked out feeling like a weight had been lifted: the weight of simply starting this thing. And I felt proud of myself.

Hi. My name is Alece. I'm a missionary. And I go to counseling.

love/hate relationship

I have a love/hate relationship with asking boomerang questions. You know the kind: questions that invoke open criticism of yourself. We just finished up the debriefing session that is always the hardest for me. We gave the interns time to share any suggestions they have for improving the program.  We told them we wouldn't defend ourselves or even explain why things were done the way they were (unless we felt it was absolutely imperative ). So the interns had full permission to just say what they disliked about their year.

I love it and I hate it all at the same time.

I love it because I always want to get better at what we do. I want next year's interns to have an even greater experience than this year's. I want to learn from our mistakes and make things more effective as we go forward. I also just love giving someone the "ok", and making them feel comfortable enough, to share this level of honest feedback.

I hate it because it's hard to hear that sort of honesty about how I've failed. It's difficult to not defend or explain myself, but to simply listen for the issue that underlies what's actually being said. I hate it because I find it so hard not to take this kind of criticism personally.

In the long-run, I know that this morning's challenging conversation will lead to an improved internship program. This is the sort of thing that makes me a better leader. Even if I hate it while I love it.

What do you have a love/hate relationship with?

THE shirt

Crystal's wearing "THE shirt". It makes an appearance once a year here at Thrive Africa.

It all started in 2005 with the arrival of our interns. One of them stepped off the airplane to start his year with us wearing THE shirt. He'd had it made just for the occasion. We laughed; we cringed; we told him he wasn't allowed to wear it off the mission base.

The next year, smack in the middle of our summer internship program, THE shirt surfaced again. At the end of a Family Night gathering at our house, one of our summer interns took off his sweatshirt and there it was! THE shirt! It was an incredibly fun surprise, and the rest of the night was filled with a lot of laughter.

Last year one of our interns did something similar. At the end of Thrive Church, she unzipped her fleece and revealed THE shirt! It caught us totally off-guard---once again!---and solidified its spot as a Thrive family tradition.

Two weeks ago at a staff meeting, we went around the room sharing testimonies, same as always. When it was Crystal's turn to share, she started off by saying how hot it was in the room. She dramatically pulled her sweatshirt over her head, revealing THE shirt underneath. Niel and I couldn't stop laughing.

So, in case you hadn't heard, this is THE shirt to wear this season!

burden of leadership

I've been pondering the burden of leadership. Let me explain... A lot of people have come through the revolving door of our ministry in the past decade: interns, mission team members, staff. Many others are tied into us through their support. All in all, we have a huge spiderwebbed network of people that are connected to Thrive Africa. And that makes them connected to Niel and I.

While I don't personally stay in touch with every single person in the Thrive spiderweb, I correspond with as many as I can (and as many as want to write back!) and we pray often for our entire extended family.

The past few weeks have unraveled some heartbreaking things that are going on in our family members' lives. It culminated this morning with the news---before 8 AM, mind you---that two people had just lost loved ones.

And it's left my heart feeling heavy.

So I'm wrestling with this whole burden of leadership thing. I know I'm not responsible for people, only to them. I know I can't carry the burdens that others carry in their lives. I know that allowing myself to get "emotionally involved" with even a fraction of the thousands of people that are connected with Thrive is more than I could ever handle. I know that I can't be everyone's fixer, that I can't always have the answer, that I can't always be there for people. I know all of that.

But that still doesn't make it any easier to hear that people I know and love are facing

• the deaths of two family members within 9 months

• sexual abuse at the hands of someone they should've been able to trust

• unceasing physical pain

• emotional scars and hurts that have festered for years

• inexplicable health problems

• a long road ahead due to horribly wrong life decisions

What are your thoughts on the burden of leadership? Where's the line between compassion and an unhealthy taking-it-on-yourself-ness? How much caring is too much, and how much is not enough?

BMT (no--not BLT!)

The application form just went live on the site today. Filling that out would be step one if you're interested in joining us! (You can download it here.) The banners are also available for you to put on your site. Grab 'em here.

Please help spread the word about the opportunity to team up and serve together in Africa. The Blogger Mission Trip isn't for an isolated community of people. It's open to the worldwide web of blogging Believers! (Try saying that three times fast. Heck, try saying it just once!)

Hope you can join us next September...