When I was in my early twenties and had been out of graduate school for a couple of years, I landed my dream job. I was the social worker at a psychiatric hospital for children. I loved it, even though it was sad to see little kids who had been traumatized by bad decisions their parents had made.

About a year into that job, the county decided to change the facility into a 30-day program for suicidal teenagers. Not my dream job! Working in this crisis-oriented program kept the staff on high alert all of the time. Not only were new kids coming in often, the ones who were in the facility were dealing with the trauma that led to them being suicidal. It was rocky, to say the least!

As a young, 24-year old who had not yet learned about the concept of boundaries when working with needy, upset people, I overworked myself to the point of exhaustion. There was so much to be done for these kids!

One day I was observing an art therapy group, and the therapist asked if I wanted to participate in the activity. Always up for new experiences, I said I did. I knew it was a fascinating type of therapy because it helps people deal with their thoughts and feelings.

I sat at a table with five teens. The therapist told us to use the clay she provided to construct something that represented our thoughts/feelings that day. As an example, she had made something that represented her — a beautiful little art pallet, complete with a tiny brush and paints.

I wasn’t an artist like she was, but I thought of a wonderful expression of my life. I made a tree that had branches that reached up as if they exemplified the opportunities I had as a young person in my new adult world. I was excited about the possibilities in front of me, which included my career as a psychiatric social worker with kids.

But there was a problem with my art work. My “tree” wouldn’t stand up. It was flimsy, and the trunk wouldn’t hold the branches straight and high like I intended. When we went around the table and each participant described what they had made, it was fascinating to see what had come from their minds during the exercise. The therapist gave each patient feedback, which was positive and encouraging. She explained to us that learning to express our feelings, instead of keeping them inside, was important.

And then it was my turn. I described my “tree,” which represented my thoughts about the many exciting opportunities I was looking forward to. The therapist was quiet. She made a generally encouraging comment, which I don’t remember now, but it was clear she had more comments she didn’t share.

After the session ended, she wanted to talk to me. She said my “tree” indicated I had no “roots” to hold up the trunk and branches. She was concerned about the lack of stability my piece showed. I agreed that I was feeling tired, fragile, and limp, just as my “tree” illustrated.

The experience was a true awakening. It was a hard way to learn about boundaries and self-care when I was burning the candle at both ends, as they say, and doing it with suicidal, needy, dysfunctional families and teenagers!

Eventually, I dealt with my boundary issues and realized that what I needed was “spiritual roots.” I was attempting to do this job helping people in serious situations with no grounding in my belief in God. I still went to church, but I wasn’t letting the Bible and what I was learning seep down into the core, or “trunk” of my being. As a result, no roots for my life really existed. I was very vulnerable, and I became as needy as my clients.

Through therapy with a Christian counselor, I learned how to stabilize my inner self through developing and deepening my relationship with God. As a result, I could feel my “roots” growing deep and nourishing the “tree” so that it was sturdy, with tall branches reaching to the sky.

That was the beginning of my true, seeking relationship with God, the one who made us and everything we can see! I experienced His love and comfort and have never looked back.

This verse was meaningful to me then and has been since:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

Today I went to a memorial service for my good friend, Nancy.

When we first moved to Clearwater for my husband to be a minister at Northwood Presbyterian Church, I began hearing about Nancy Johnson. Eventually I asked someone, “Who is Nancy Johnson?”

“She’s a good friend who moved to Naples to live near her daughter.” I could tell that everyone who knew her was sad she had moved.

Since we live near the ocean, friends from church sometimes have a party on a boat to celebrate their birthday. It could be a couple of hours on a “cruise” with food served or on a pontoon boat that takes the group out to explore a small island.

At one of these parties, someone I hadn’t met sat down next to me. We introduced ourselves to one another, and guess who she was? It was Nancy Johnson!

“Finally! I have heard your name so many times, and I finally get to meet you!” She was surprised to hear that people had mentioned her often and missed her.

She had returned to live in Clearwater, and her friends were thrilled! After a few months, I got to know her, and I knew why people enjoyed her so much! She was delightful — funny, wise, adventurous, and intelligent.

She was 25 years older than me, but that didn’t matter. We enjoyed lunches, movies, book club, and more with friends. She enjoyed deep conversations about anything you wanted to talk about. It didn’t matter if you were on the same side of a discussion, which we sometimes weren’t. We each shared our thoughts and discussed them. Even if we thought the other was out of her mind on something, we left our get-together in good spirits!

We had plans.

With a group of friends we were going to take tap dancing lessons. Weekly, we were going to get together with people and go to movies, plays, dinner. I really miss her.

One thing she was insistent about was that I was going to write a book about my experiences as a home health social worker. Since she had been a nurse for many years, she appreciated my stories. I guess in a way her idea has come to be through this blog.

Today as she was celebrated at her service, this verse came to mind —

“…for we are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To one we are an aroma that brings death; to the other, an aroma that brings life. And who is equal to such a task?”

Nancy’s aroma brought life to those around her. And I am thankful God put her on my path.