Patricia Myers

As a Christian who teaches at a Christian university, there is one discussion that I can predict will occur numerous times throughout coursework for both undergraduates and graduates. This discussion centers on a Christian response to homosexuality. Over the past few months this question has also made headlines due to two recent court cases involving students who see accepting client’s values that differ from their own as an impossible bridge to cross. These students felt they would be in denial of their deeply held faith beliefs if they were to acquiesce to a position of neutrality during sessions with clients who held divergent positions. Both of these legal cases centered on whether counselor education students must counsel clients who are homosexual. These students felt that counseling homosexuals would be seen as an acceptance of homosexuality as a legitimate lifestyle.

It was one of those hectic stressful workday mornings. This day found me struggling to leave home on time with a cat reluctant to come inside and a new puppy resistant to a few hours of life in her crate. My frustration levels increased as it seemed I was stopped at each traffic light and crawled along behind the slowest of drivers. Arriving at work only added to my foul mood when I realized my tardiness caused me to lose out on all the close parking spaces therefore necessitating the need to trudge first down and then back up a very long hill. My ever deepening sense that life was out to get me found affirmation in my overflowing email inbox. I didn’t even attempt to stop the groan and one of those deep long suffering sighs at the 37 messages waiting for answers. What had I done to deserve such a maddening day? At the height of my narcissism and self-pity I was snapped back into reality with an article by Pilar Hernández-Wolfe.

I have been struggling for the past few months to retain my optimism. It seems that everything in my life was beginning to be burdensome and impossible with few very limited opportunities for hope. Knowing that a large part of my pessimism is a family legacy, I’ve been working for most of my adult life to overcome it. I’ve had good success until recently. I know all the reasons why I ended up in such a hopeless place (some of which I’ve written about in previous blogs) but knowing the reasons doesn’t fix the feelings. This morning after euthanizing our second dog in the past several months I think I hit a new low.

We are now on day 51 of the BP Oil Spill. Each day I have watched the news accounts and felt increasing hopelessness and despair. The recently released pictures of the sea birds drowned in oil, helpless and sinking were images I have not been able to shed. My dreams have been filled with images of the gushing oil that is inescapable and pollutes everything. I live in Oregon, thousands of miles from this devastation. What must it be like for those who live there, for those who must once again be brave and strong and resilient? For those who can see, smell, and touch this disaster? I can only imagine the heartbreak of the loss of human life, the damage to financial security, and family stability, and seeing the environmental damage to land and wildlife that are loved.

My mother is having surgery this week. Mom worked hard after falling and breaking her leg last fall and as a result, was able to return to living semi-independently. However, something was not quite right. She complained of feeling woozy all the time and started to show noticeable signs of cognitive decline. The family, along with her doctors, initially concluded this was probably normal decline associated with aging. Few of us will reach 85 without having physical and/or cognitive problems of some sort. Right? We should expect declines as we age. We’re told it’s normal and expected. Then one day she reached a tipping point as she had increased difficulty speaking, choosing her words, and tracking the conversation.