Breanna Droppings or The Perils of Sharing a Work Place With Your Child

Some of you may know that my oldest child, Breanna is now on staff at Granger Community Church. She is on the Facility Care team and is typically in the building long after I have left. The following photos are what I have lovingly termed “Breanna Droppings”

On the center of my desk there was this post it note:

Then there were these other sticky notes:
(my monitor has a face now)

The people in my artwork now have a voice… “Oooh” “Ahhh” “What pretty colors”

Yoda is apparently going mad with the power of The Force and “Livin’ la Vida YODA!”

Then, my favorite…hidden on my pen tablet…a little love from the offspring.

So fun to find these.

I love them!

Clouded judgement

In a conversation regarding a conversation regarding a conversation, a wise counselor (person 1) spoke about how she pointed out that the person she was speaking to (person 2) did not hear or acknowledge the other persons (person 3) pain in a conversation that she (person 2) had with that person (person 3). It was a profound moment for me.

That person (person 2) had just shared the same conversation with me and I had agreed with her perspective…I did not feed it, but I felt that she had done a good job in handling the situation. I forgot that there were TWO people involved. TWO people that I cared about. TWO people that God loves and I was not thinking of that other person’s (person 3) pain either because I had not been in proximity to their pain.

I have been trying very hard to be neutral and available to both of these people because they are both my friend, but when it came down to it, because person 2 had been sharing more of her pain and struggle with me than person 3 (who has not contacted me in sometime other than to forward a silly text) my judgment had become clouded and I forgot how much he matters and rather than providing her (person 2) with a suggestion that would soften her heart and even segue toward forgiveness, I gave her kudos for recognizing her boundary issues.

Imagine my palm slapping my forehead.