Life Lessons at age 2, 6, or 26

We often learn and re-learn lessons from childhood. (I say adults are really just kids in bigger bodies - with more expensive toys.) In my trek of life, recent workplace happenings echoed the experience of a blonde bubbly 2-year-old across the country. 

His mom, my beautiful friend Kim, shared on her cute blog a painful moment of motherhood: seeing her darling son Julian be rejected by older girls who wouldn't let him play with them. I hope she's okay with me quoting how the two older girls ran away from her sweet boy:

"They went into a crooked house, and Julian caught up to them and tried to come in, but the girls were pushing on the door so he couldn't get in, laughing hysterically. Then they ran out, leaving Julian in the dust, and scrambling to keep up. He couldn't understand why they wouldn't let him play. As he ran after them, he pled so sadly in his little 2-year-old voice: "but I'm a nice boy! I'm a nice boy!"  

By this time I was in tears (behind my sunglasses)...Julian turned to me with tears in his eyes and yelled "but I wanna play with those girls!" My sweet boy's feelings were legitimately hurt. That hurt so badly.  It was the first time I've seen his feelings hurt/ him be flat-out rejected and it truly crushed me.Oh, my sweet boy.  

Julian's tender story resonated with me this week. For the sake of creating a more "lean, efficient operation," at my marketing job (which I was thrilled to land last August)  it was announced a couple weeks ago they were dissolving five of our positions and turning them into four. We had the option of applying. You can imagine the resulting feelings of anger, hurt, rejection, sadness and frustration.

Like Julian's plea, I wanted to say, "but I'm a valuable employee! I do great things here! I'm a nice girl!" 


The most painful part has been the Hunger Games-esque office atmosphere between friends - knowing we won't all come out with our job. To say it's been a "morale buster" would be sugarcoating. The verdict will be out this week and we will know who stays and who will be let go. (Meanwhile, if you know of other Ogden/Salt Lake marketing opportunities, I'm open to suggestions.) Despite the heartache, I know this will pass, and good things will come of it.

Keeping things in perspective, I've had the recent honor of becoming acquainted with an inspiring little girl named Millie Flamm. As a 6-year-old, she's making the most of painfully dealt hand: she's facing her second fight of leukemia. Here'smy blog post/KSL article about her. Millie's cheerfulness in the face of gloomy circumstances reminds me I have nothing to worry about.Ryan and I would love to see you at the 5K benefit for this little princess next Saturday, June 30. Get to know the Flamm family and/or donate to them on their blog.You'll be glad you did.

Whether 2, 6, or 26, I believe we're here on Earth to learn and grow. Just as it was painful for Kim to see her sweet boy be left out, for Millie's parents to see their daughter face a life-threatening disease, and my sadness about the job I was so excited about; I believe we are watched over by a Father in Heaven who feels divine empathy when we're hurting. He loves us enough to let us progress, even when it's painful. I truly believe we choose how we'll respond to our circumstances, and they can be for our ultimate good.


Note on 6/28: The day after I write this post, I was interviewed for a position. The next day - a full three nail-biting weeks after the initial headcount-cut announcement - I was offered a position. My best thoughts and wishes to my colleagues who are no longer here. You are missed, and another company/opportunity will be oh-SO-lucky to have you.