By Julia Love
“What have I been doing for the past three months? Why did I move to Kentucky? Am I really following God’s plan?” These are the questions I was asking myself last week when I felt as though I had hit a brick wall. Having a minor existential crisis in small town Kentucky was not at all what I had imagined for myself when I prepared for my year of service.
Let me back up for a minute. My name is Julia and I’m a 22-year-old New Jersey native. Last May I graduated from college beyond excited to be the new AmeriCorps Family Advocacy/Housing Caseworker in McCreary County for Christian Appalachian Project. While I have only been here for three months it feels as though I’ve been here for ten. Probably because it was so easy to acclimate myself to the lifestyle and the people. The other volunteers were all inviting and the staff were eager to know me. CAP’s local participants wanted to know my name and meet me as soon as possible, which made the transition into this position rigorous but enlightening.
Now let me go back to the part where I was questioning my existence at CAP. I felt as though I wasn’t grasping the work as easily as I wanted (and before you say it, yes I was being hard on myself, and I recognize that now). I was getting lost in paperwork confusion and messing up reports. While those are essential to casework, I felt disconnected from the community, which was frustrating because I was supposed to be there for them. I was starting to feel defeated because I did not know how to balance paperwork and participants and it was getting in my way of doing a good job.
I was expressing my emotions to a fellow CAP member and they asked me why I felt as though I couldn’t spend more time with each person, and I told them how I often have other participants waiting for my help as well. They said, “Let them wait; take the time you need and then spend that same time with the next person, and the next.” YES. THANK YOU. That was exactly what I needed to hear, and that’s exactly what I did. It felt amazing to not rush myself but take the time I wanted to with each person, really hear them, and make that connection I was longing for.
The next week I felt rejuvenated and ready to start anew with a better attitude. I went on a home visit to talk to a participant about what home repairs they needed. When we got there, the homeowner Catie was outside waiting to greet us. While eager, she also seemed a little nervous — rightly so as we had never met, and now we were here to assess her house. It was a relatively quick visit, just to see what the crew would be working with, so toward the end, we had set up an appointment for her to come to my office so we could sort out all the paperwork needed to proceed.
When Catie came in to my office for her appointment she was no longer nervous as I was now a familiar face. As we got to talking, I learned that she was currently taking care of not one, not three, but FIVE grandchildren all by herself. Her husband had passed away a couple years back, and she was on her own with all these kids and a home in poor condition. Catie and I just talked for a bit about doctors’ appointments, kids toys, and how silence is scarier than noise when caring for children.
As she was heading out the door, she said, “Okay bye, thanks for talking to me.”
Thanks for talking to me. For some reason that really struck me. I kept thinking, "no, thanks for talking to me; thanks for feeling comfortable enough to let me into your life. Thank you for reminding me of the reasons why I am here."
Lesson learned: A bad week doesn’t mean a bad month, year, or life. A new Monday will come again whether we want it or not.
Amen to that.
Julia is serving as an AmeriCorps Family Advocacy/Housing Caseworker and living in the McCreary Volunteer community. She is a 2016 graduate of Neumann University. Opinions expressed in volunteer blogs are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of CAP or the Volunteer Program.
