For the past two years of my life, I was a social worker. For the past year until this past April, I worked with children. It was super hard, and super rewarding. Here is a letter that I wrote to all my kids just before my last day of work. It gives me confirmation that I will in fact return to the field one day :)
An open letter to all the kids I’m leaving behind--
You know that it tore me apart to tell you, but our time together has come to an end. It’s not that I don’t like working with you. Let me explain a little bit-
I will miss almost everything about you. I love our deep chats. The times that you tell me things you never thought you could verbalize to another human. I love the way your face changes when I tell you that the thoughts you are having are normal, and that you’re not alone. I love that you let me be that person in your life, the person you confide so many secrets to. I love hearing about how your brain works, and I love trying to help it work better and “not eat you” as I like to tell you, on the days your depression is really bothering you.
I love the times when we don’t talk about serious things too. Like your wrestling tournament last weekend, nail polish we both coincidently bought yesterday, or your favorite flavor of ice cream. I love when you randomly break out into song during one of our sessions (which happens SO much more often than I would have ever thought). I love hearing about your class schedule, the way your passions and dreams start to come alive in front of us.
I love the times when just sit in silence together. When that conversation bomb gets dropped, and neither one of us really has anything to say. But in that time it is communicated that I care. I just sit with you, and in those moments, I realize that I never knew that silence could be so powerful but yet so still.
I love watching you grow up right in front of my eyes. The times that I sit back and realize how much progress you really have made. You can color inside the lines now, and hold your fork the right way. You passed “rockin math”, and are getting all green days at school. You seem taller than you did last week.
I will miss the times we bucked the traditional office setting because it doesn’t have windows anyway, and it felt too stuffy. I love when we went to the park or the lake and looked at nature and talked about life. I loved that one time when we rented the boat and then we almost crashed it… but quite honestly that is one of my favorite memories with you.
The truth is, this job has its limits. I love being your social worker, but the one thing that made me sure I had to leave is because I can’t tell you about my one true love. The reason I do this, the reason I am even able to love you at all, is because of Jesus. Jesus saved me from myself, and I believe he can save you too. He can break through any barriers, including the most difficult mental health situations. Without Him, I have no hope at all. For life, for even my next breath. How could I continue to work with you after feeling so limited? Like I have the cure for your depression, your anxiety, your fear of your step-dad, but I don’t share it with you? It feels like a betrayal.
The real truth is, I have shared everything I know with you. I have poured my time, energy and heart into working with you. But if I can’t share Jesus with you, I can’t give you everything I have to offer. So I choose to leave you, in hope that God will provide me with the opportunity to reach kids who I can share Jesus with in the future.
You've got this. You're so much stronger than you think. Thank you for teaching me more than I ever could teach you.
Until we meet again,
Maeve
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