Author: courtney gray layson

It’s only 10 o’clock, but it feels like midnight. My house is dark and quiet– a rare and peaceful moment!

I’ve been seeing clients all day and my brain feels totally empty. As a therapist who specializes in trauma and addiction, my job is rarely boring. But the past two weeks have been pretty brutal. Just today, I heard more women explaining why they would never EVER come forward publicly with their stories of sexual abuse and assault. And these women aren’t your stereotypical *snowflakes* either. They’re strong. They’re smart. They’re compassionate. As I have listened to personally to almost a dozen women, I feel complicated emotions. I’m angry. I’m sad. I’m scared. I’m really tired. I’m SO confused. If I wasn’t exhausted right now I’d pull out one of those stupid emotional vocabulary word sheets to help me express ALL my feelings! (Don’t worry. I’ll spare you.)

Tomorrow is a big day in our house. Our 3rd grader is going on a field trip… AND I’m taking the day off to go with her. (All the working moms say, “AMEN!”) We will officially celebrate the end of the class unit on Charlotte’s Web– Clearly, one of the best stories of all time. We will do all things farm, and I SWEAR I will not complain about how it’s 90 degrees in October. I will choose to enjoy the time I have with these precious little people. I’ll probably give in to the demands for early check out. I might even consider taking a trip to the Mississippi State Fair. (Jesus be near. I’ve completely lost my mind.)

Tomorrow is a big day in our little home, but it’s also a big day for our country. Tomorrow Judge Brett Kavanaugh, will most likely be approved as our newest member of the Supreme Court. Everyone already knows the story by now. The details of his life and the life of Dr. Christine Blasey Ford have been blowing up our news feeds for weeks– pounding in our heads like a migraine headache that just won’t go away. Honestly, I don’t know anyone who even wants to talk about it anymore. We won’t ever have all the facts. And my opinion isn’t going to change what you already believe to be true.

But let me tell you what I also promise to do starting tomorrow:

I promise to tell the truth about my own sexual assault experience.

I promise to believe survivors of assault, abuse, and rape.

I promise to speak truth to lies.

I promise to educate those around me on the detrimental impact of victim blaming based on my own experience, my training, and my professional work.

I promise to make the world safer– at least in my one little corner– so that as all those 3rd graders grow up, they can talk about whatever it is that happens to them without fear of judgement from me.

I promise to stay connected to Jesus so that my heart does not become hardened to the people and the world around me.

Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow you and I both have the power to decide how we will choose to live in this world. Tomorrow we can choose to love those around us. We can choose to lead with hearts wide open to all the good things. We can choose to give in to the dark, or we can choose to follow The Light.

So, my prayer is this: Let’s choose The Light. Let’s be the leaders that we hoped would lead us. There is a world desperate for direction, and we know the way.

This week I’m on our annual family vacation. Every year it’s the same people. The same place. We’re people of the water, so naturally the beach is our go-to vacay. I seriously don’t know what I’d do if we couldn’t get here. It’s my happy place. This morning, my niece literally laid down in the sand to hug it. (I get it Caroline… I feel you.) And even thought this trip ALWAYS feels necessary, this year seemed even more important.

I must admit, this past month has been a tough one. 

A precious mama accidentally left her baby in the backseat of the car on a hot Mississippi day.

A young child in our community passed away from leukemia while thousands of us prayed for healing.

A woman in California was brutally attacked, sexually assaulted, and denied justice.

A hate-filled man murdered 49 people in cold blood at an Orlando night club.

A two-year-old child was freakishly dragged away by a beast of an animal in literally the happiest place on earth.

I can’t turn on the news. The fear of what will happen next has almost consumed me lately. I wake up in the night and remember some of these recent stories. In my sleepy fog I think for a moment that it was all just a bad dream. And then I slowly awaken to the reality that it’s true. It’s a living nightmare. One minute I’m in tears, and the next moment I’m frantically trying to think of the next solution so that these things won’t ever happen again.

I read my Facebook feed and I know I’m not alone. Some of us are gracious and kind during these times. We’re sad. Heartbroken. And our posts clearly reflect that we weep with those who weep; mourn with those who mourn. Others of us are angry. Our posts seek justice for victims… Trying to make right what is wrong. Some of us even sound crazy. These events have struck a nerve. We’re all exposed now. Painfully aware of our own weakness and vulnerability. 

It’s always interesting to me when we try and distance ourselves from tragedy. Honestly? I get it. When I was younger I worked with a woman who accidentally left her two young babies in the car all day. They lived. But I remember thinking, How is that possible? I could NEVER do something like that. A couple years later, I had my own baby girl. And what do you know? I accidentally left her in the car, on the backseat, while I went to run an errand. I still remember the flood of emotions that overwhelmed me as I walked back to my car 20 minutes later and saw her silently sleeping… Oblivious to the danger I had unintentionally put her in. I wanted to scream, cry, hide, vomit all at the same time. My immediate instinct was to NEVER TELL ANYONE what I’d done.

My sister works as a pediatric oncology nurse. She told me once that parents of healthy children often ask questions of her patients’ families. They say things like: Did you let him eat hotdogs? How long did you breastfeed when she was a baby? Do you use fabric softener in your laundry? Heat up food in plastic containers? Buy organic/ GMO free food? Every time she hears questions like this she wants to scream: IF WE KNEW WHAT CAUSED CANCER WE WOULDN’T BE IN THIS STUPID HOSPITAL!

In all of these stories there have been the side-line critics and arm chair quarterbacks:  What kind of girl gets drunk at a party? What kind of parent lets their kid play in a lake in Florida? Nothing good happens at 2:00 am. We want to explain away the unpredictability of life by shifting the blame to someone or something in order to feel more secure. And I get it. I really do. If I can believe for even a minute that I’m somehow better than or more prepared than you, I have a temporary sense of relief. But the problem is that it doesn’t last. That reality slowly creeps back in and we remember our own humanity. Life hits us in the face, and we realize that we don’t have control. And for some of us, that’s the nightmare.

I’ve felt confused by the events in the last few weeks.  I still believe God is good, but I don’t understand why he does’t just stop all this from happening. And then this morning, I was reading this:

“And now, finally, God answered Job from the eye of a violent storm. He said:

‘Why do you confuse the issue?
Why do you talk without knowing what you’re talking about?
Pull yourself together, Job!
Up on your feet! Stand tall!
I have some questions for you,
and I want some straight answers.
Where were you when I created the earth?
Tell me, since you know so much!‘“

I felt instantly convicted of my own arrogance and pride. I felt ashamed that I had the audacity to question The God of the universe… As if He had forgotten me… Forgotten us. So this morning I stood in the water and felt the waves knocking up against me. I felt the power in the water. The warmth of the sun. The texture of the sand. And I heard these verses over again in my head:

“Who came up with the blueprints and measurements?
How was its foundation poured,
and who set the cornerstone,
While the morning stars sang in chorus
and all the angels shouted praise?
And who took charge of the ocean
when it gushed forth like a baby from the womb?
That was me! I wrapped it in soft clouds,
and tucked it in safely at night.
Then I made a playpen for it,
a strong playpen so it couldn’t run loose,
And said, ‘Stay here, this is your place.
Your wild tantrums are confined to this place.’

“And have you ever ordered Morning, ‘Get up!’
told Dawn, ‘Get to work!’
So you could seize Earth like a blanket
and shake out the wicked like cockroaches?
As the sun brings everything to light,
brings out all the colors and shapes?”

I still don’t have answers to all my questions. I don’t know why children die and mothers weep and the entire Earth groans with unfulfilled longing. These waves of tragedy seem so strong and sometimes I wonder if they will completely wipe us out. But I do know this: I am not in control of this world. And I trust The One who is. And somehow tonight, in this place, in this moment, that is enough.

Steve Layson, do you see these two people? Who are they? They were so young young-ish and happy. They look well-rested, don’t they?

Me? This was hands-down the best day of my life. I was calm, confident. The entire day was like a really good dream. It was the most beautiful November day in Kentucky. All my family had made it into town. I spent the entire morning with my best friends laughing, drinking coffee, dreaming. I couldn’t wait to marry you. And that hair? Please. It has never looked better.

You? You seemed excited and nervous all at the same time. I know you were embarrassed when your lip quivered uncontrollably as I walked down the aisle. Your shoes were probably uncomfortable. And I know you hated having the attention of 200 guests! But I could tell you felt solid about this decision.

What you didn’t know is that I would send you a box of my honeymoon lingerie to open up before the wedding. (You opened it right as our preachers were walking into the chapel to pray with you… SO EMBARRASSING! That’s what I get for trying to be funny.) What I didn’t know was that you would surprise me with a diamond wedding band – not the one we originally picked out in the store – to coordinate with my engagement ring. Neither one of us knew that we’d get stuck in Puerto Rico and spend the night in an airport-hotel-casino without any luggage.

I’m not sure either one of us could have predicted how easy it would be in the beginning. Our first year of marriage was a cake walk. I thought for sure that we’d cornered the market on successful relationships… I mean, OF COURSE, we’re both counselors. Right? (Eye roll.) I thought we were home free. What I didn’t know was just how much there was to come.

What we didn’t know is that it would take us over a year to get pregnant. We didn’t know how exciting it would be to get that news! Do you still remember that morning? I screamed so loud… You thought something was wrong. What you didn’t know is that I had secretly purchased and taken a pregnancy test… And it was POSITIVE. We celebrated with breakfast at Cracker Barrel. I didn’t know that was the last meal I’d want to eat for the next 3 months! We didn’t know how much we would love that baby girl… or how much we would fight while we were sleep deprived!

What we didn’t know is that about 6 months into parenthood, I’d end up at the doctor’s office with a strange lump. Remember the night you came into our room to find me Googling ‘Thyroid Cancer’? I was crying so hard. I don’t think you’d ever seen me so scared. You took the computer away and banned WebMD for a year. (Good call.) By the time we got the official diagnosis I was calm. But you? You ran 2 stop lights and a stop sign on our way home from Good Sam. I thought I had a greater chance of dying in downtown Lexington that day then I ever did with cancer!

We didn’t know that the week I finished my treatments, you’d end up in the hospital with CMV. (We didn’t even know there was such a thing!) I didn’t know how sick you were. You didn’t know how scared I was. It was just the two of us and Jane Gray, so I had to stay with her while you slept at St. Joseph’s… alone. I missed you so bad those two nights. You came home from the hospital on my 30th birthday. I still remember how you arranged for Katie to pick up that bracelet I loved. You had it wrapped, and hid it in your overnight bag… I was so surprised!

What we didn’t know is that about two years later we’d be sitting in UK Hospital waiting on one of my many follow-up MRI’s only to find out that Layson Baby #2 was on his way! We were both shocked! It was exciting news, but we were nervous… We didn’t know that a baby after cancer is kinda scary. We had no idea that little boy would change our family dynamic FOREVER. We didn’t know that he was part boy/ part rhinoceros. We didn’t know we could love something so smelly and so dirty so unconditionally!

We didn’t know that it would take us three moves to end up in Mississippi. You didn’t know Jackson was weird. I didn’t know I’d be homesick for our life in Kentucky. Neither one of us knew how hard it would be to maintain our identity professionally and personally once we moved back here. We didn’t know how much we’d miss the beautiful chaos of community mental health. We didn’t know how we’d miss working together… toward a common goal… for a greater good.

We didn’t know that we’d experience the trauma blessing of a surprise baby! You didn’t even know I went to the doctor that day… I didn’t know I’d leave with such news! I called you immediately from the office, but you were seeing clients… you never answer your phone in the middle of the hour… so I texted you… “Call me. I’m pregnant.” (You still haven’t forgiven me for that one!) We didn’t know he’d weight 9lbs. 13oz. We didn’t know he’d be the joy of our family!

What we didn’t know is that our 8 year anniversary gift would be a new dishwasher and another car seat. We didn’t know that we’d celebrate with carpool, snack time, play time, dinner time, bath time, bed time… the regular repeated pattern of our shared life. We didn’t know that date nights and romantic dinners would be on hold until further notice. We didn’t know that pizza and Netflix would actually sound better than dinner and a movie out.

What we didn’t know is how hard life would be with three kids, two jobs, and one house. We didn’t know in the beginning that two into one is messy and complicated and beautiful all at the same time. I didn’t know the depths of sacrificial love. And honestly, it’s not for the faint of heart. These last 8 years have been hard. But despite all that, what I didn’t know was… How amazing our three kids would be… How you’d still think I was beautiful after babies and stretch marks, and wrinkles… How comforting it would be to hear your car pull into the driveway each night… How I would love to hear you laugh with our kids… How I would love when you hold my hand in church… How I would choke up at the thought of a life without you. You have seen me at my best (see previous photo) and my absolute worst (photo not included). We’ve tackled life together, and for everything we didn’t know, I do know this: I love you… In sickness and in health, for better or for worse, for richer (now would be a good time) or poorer, til death… I choose you. Right now that’s about all I know. But for today, that’s enough.

Happy anniversary, Steve Layson. You’re the best decision I ever made.

Have you ever taken one of those personality tests? As a counselor, I absolutely love personality testing of all types. I don’t do much of this in my clinical time, but give me a test to take, and I will drop everything in order to get it done! This week an online Myers Briggs assessment has been circulating on Facebook, and I could. not. resist. You can check it out here.

I wasn’t surprised by my results. I’ve taken it a thousand times… it’s always the same. ENFP: Extroverted, Intuitive, Feeling, Perceiving. Here’s a brief overview of the highlights: “ENFPs are warm, enthusiastic people, typically very bright and full of potential. They live in the world of possibilities, and can become very passionate and excited about things. Their enthusiasm lends them the ability to inspire and motivate others, more so than we see in other types. They can talk their way in or out of anything. They love life, seeing it as a special gift, and strive to make the most out of it.”

Every time I read this section (or one similar to it), I smile. Who wouldn’t want to be considered very bright and full of potential? And with an added bonus of an ability to motivate others? What more could a girl ask for? Plus, we can apparently talk [our] way in or out of anything. This little gem comes in quite handy when you’re facing something like say oh, I don’t know, a speeding ticket. One time, I literally TALKED my way into an “A” on the final in my college math class. Let me tell you, this was not earned based on skill… So wrong.

And then I got to this part. “An ENFP who has ‘gone wrong’ may be quite manipulative – and very good it. The gift of gab which they are blessed with makes it naturally easy for them to get what they want.” Who? Me? Never! Um, well maybe sometimes. Not so flattering.

Here’s the deal. We all have personality tendencies – for better or worse. There are characteristics that make us unique… parts we would consider to be strengths. But each one of us has a shadow side. We all have the ability to use our powers for good or for evil. I’m pretty sure that God saw this one coming from a mile away. He spent so much time creating us – forming us in our mother’s womb. I believe He delights in us… in our differences… in our uniqueness. But I also think that’s one reason He is so clear about things like judgment and wisdom. In Proverbs we read over and over again about these ideas. Take a look at Proverbs 4.

“My children, listen when your father corrects you. Pay attention and learn good judgment, for I am giving you good guidance. Don’t turn away from my instructions… Getting wisdom is the wisest thing you can do! And whatever else you do, develop good judgment… My child, pay attention to what I say.
Listen carefully to my words. Don’t lose sight of them. Let them penetrate deep into your heart, for they bring life to those who find them, and healing to their whole body. Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.“

On our own, we are easily led astray. Even with the best of intentions we can get a bit turned around. We need the wisdom and understanding that comes from God. But how do we hear from God? I would suggest that there are several ways to keep ourselves in check.

First things first, prayer. Ask God for wisdom and understanding… He’ll give it freely. (James 1:5)

Second step, scripture. (2 Timothy 3:16) One of the ways we can keep ourselves in line is to see if our instincts/ intuition/ good ideas line up with God’s word. This a natural kind of checks-and-balances. If you’re getting conflicting prayer/ scripture messages, HOLD UP.

Invite friends to provide accountability. Find people you TRUST and let them in on the parts of your life that aren’t so pretty. That sounds pretty crazy, right? I’m serious. Allow certain friends to call you on your stuff. Ask them if they see wisdom and sound judgment in your choices. Trust me, a group of honest friends is a good thing. (Proverbs 24:26)

Seek wise counsel counseling. Let me say this as politely as I can. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD, GET HELP. (Was that gentle and kind? I think so. Let’s keep going.) There are so many counselors… GOOD counselors… CHRISTIAN counselors… PROFESSIONAL counselors who want to walk with you. Some of us even know a thing or two about emotionally healthy spirituality. There are so many things in life that are confusing and just plain HARD. If you’re in over your head, ask for help.

Personality tests are fun. But people who don’t understand their personality and use it irresponsibly are not. It’s great to learn about ourselves and to learn about those we’re in relationship with, but let’s all agree to dig a little deeper… do the hard work of soul-searching… face the shadows. Most things are a whole lot less scary when they’re brought into The Light.

At 1:21pm on October 20, 2009 a 7lb.14oz. miracle was delivered in the operating room at Central Baptist Hospital in Lexington, Kentucky. She was all red and grey and loud and beautiful. I ended up having an emergency C-section – almost everything had gone off-plan, but somehow that moment was perfect. I couldn’t really move because of all the monitors and machines, but when the nurse held her up to me, I whispered, “I’ve been waiting all day to see your face.” Jane Gray Layson had officially entered the world.

Can anything prepare you for what it’s like to deliver a baby? There’s absolutely nothing like it. Your body is no longer your own. You get a glimpse of this during pregnancy, but delivery and postpartum? That’s a whole different level of weird. I still remember the look on Steve’s face when my water broke. He was frozen. I’m not sure if it was fear or disgust. Probably both. I’m pretty sure he’s still traumatized. Thankfully we were already in the hospital. Our precious nurse, Crystal, was there to help me navigate this *tricky* situation. As I waddled to the bathroom with a giant puppy pad between my legs I remember thinking, “The honeymoon is definitely over!” It’s one terrible; awkward situation after the other. People in and out of your room all night and day. Breastfeed in front of strangers? Sure. Document the amount of your daily urine output? Totally normal. Try out the double breast pump with the lactation consultant in the company of your mom?  your husband? YOUR MOM AND HUSBAND AT THE SAME TIME! (Seriously. I’m not making this stuff up.) #Awkward.

There just isn’t anything in this world that has changed me quite like being a mom. It’s hard and wonderful all at the same time. My selfishness is highlighted on a daily basis, but somehow my ability to give and receive grace has expanded. All of the sudden, in that one moment, people became easier to love because everyone was someone’s child. The value and worth of Jane Gray’s precious life challenged me to see the value in everyone else – even in myself. To this day, I can’t counsel or teach or LIVE without a painful awareness that all of us belong to each other. We are connected – for better or worse – and the value of one re-emphasizes the value of all. On that October day in Kentucky, I would have done ANYTHING for that child. There was NO TASK too messy, too awkward, too embarrassing, or too painful – She was my child, and she was worth the sacrifice.

I think about that story often. We’ve added two more rascals since then, and each time it’s been the same. Nothing in this world could keep me from them. They are worth everything – my pride, my money, my dignity, my life. It kind of reminds me of a familiar story… But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8)

1. I am just as worried about being perceived as crazy as you are.

2. Sometimes my therapist husband and I break all the fair fighting techniques that I taught you in your last counseling session.

3. I have unhealthy coping skills too. Exhibit A: Coffee

4. I live with the constant reality that the trauma you experienced could just as easily have happened to me or my family.

5. I go to therapy.

6. My extended family is enmeshed—I needed a therapist to point that out to me!

7. I care about your story. I’ll remember it and think about you even after our therapeutic relationship ends.

8. When I meet someone new, I think to myself, Please be as weird as me.

9. I hope that one day my services as a therapist are completely unnecessary.

10. I believe that 90% of the clients I see wouldn’t need me if the church understood two things: emotionally healthy spirituality and community.

Tonight I hid in the pantry and ate chocolate chip cookies. I just needed a minute. You know what I’m talking about. When you get to the end of a long day, and you just need space, silence, chocolate. Honestly, I debated going to the store for something more delicious than Kroger brand Chips Ahoy, but it was too much trouble. And on a day like today, I just needed good enough… You know what I mean?

We’re at that stage in life Jen Hatmaker refers to as “in the weeds”. We have three children ages 5 and under. It’s kind of like running a marathon… for 5 years. Alone time, sleep, bathroom breaks—these things are at a premium right now. I look at parents who have older kids—bigs—and I am so jealous. In our house, there’s always someone waking up in the night, someone sick, someone scared. There are noses to be wiped and diapers to be changed. There is a steady hum of noise in between shrieks and screams, and cries. It’s enough to make even the most extroverted person on the planet lose. her. mind. And my poor husband, Steve, is an introvert. I can’t believe he hasn’t gone postal on all of us!

I’ve felt lately that life doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Some seasons seem to go so smoothly— things like purpose and calling are clear. During these times I relax a bit and lean back into a natural posture of trust. But lately? These days I feel like I’ve entered the zombie apocalypse. I walk into the bathroom at work sometimes and stare at my reflection in the mirror. Fine lines, wrinkles, dark circles—it’s like I don’t even recognize the girl staring back at me. When did this happen? And that’s when I kind of panic. I’m so old. What have I even done with my life? Why haven’t I impacted the world in a significant way? I should have made more of a difference. At the very least I should have made more money! During these times, figuring out purpose feels impossible. I feel restless. I run so far ahead of the present that I can’t even focus on today. I want answers, but I’m not even sure of the questions.

And then I hear that familiar voice.  “I know the plans I have for you. Don’t you remember? Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Does that sound familiar? Plans to give you hope and a future. Have you forgotten? I haven’t forgotten you. I see you. And I always keep my promises.

No matter our season of life, I think many of us are desperate to know that what we do matters. We have value. We are seen. We’re taught from the very beginning that BIG is good and small is at best plain and at worst pathetic. On the days that I find myself hiding in pantry, I try and talk myself down from the ledge. I sneak in and watch three littles sleeping. I pack lunches and backpacks for the next day. I sit in peaceful silence curled up with Steve on our couch. I stop. I breathe. I remember. And I find myself relaxing again back into that familiar posture of grace. And for tonight, that’s enough.

I better run… I think I hear a baby crying.