Faith Verses Social Work: Can't They Be on the Same Side?

So here I am in the midst of this getting-a-graduate-degree thing. I'm finding it incredibly ironic that so much of the teaching directed to social workers, (people who have the God-given nature to care deeply about the needs of others), encourages them to NOT believe in religion. In my Social Work History course I am reading about how the original social workers and community organizers and people who made a difference did so because of their belief in God, yet the ideals of my youth are being blasted on all sides.

Finding Faith

Can faith be found in concrete things?
Crosses, prayer shawls, rosary beads
Yamikas, CTR rings
Wayward coins and mustard seeds

Can faith be found in doing good?
Casseroles and bended knees
Doing things that Jesus would
Calming arguments and seas?

Can faith be just a simple thought?
Planted, but not just left there
Just a meager speck of hope
Nurtured, tended with great care

My faith is still rather small
Just a seedling in my heart
It will blossom, bloom and grow
If I choose the better part


I keep telling myself to hold on to my faith. I realize that my belief in God and His children has much to do with why I am here. I could easily just sit around my home and decorate and clean and veg for the next 30 years, but I want to serve. The natural woman in me really just wants to watch television. But I want to overcome Miss Natural. I want to serve because my religion has taught me to.

It takes guts to make a difference. It is hard to put myself out there. Overcoming fear is not an easy thing to do. I remember my experience on a cruise ship a couple of years ago:

Here is a page from my journal in Summer of 2006:

I gave lectures on Alaska this time. It was really fun. I enjoyed it more than Mexico because I know the topic better. I think I did okay. Not really sure.

Let me tell you what it is like to be up in front of a big audience like that. I was in the Stardust Lounge of the Norwegian Sun. It was a beautiful stage where all the big performances are done on the ship. And there was me. Me and a lectern. First of all, I sweat profusely. Every top I wore was practically dripping at the end of the 45 minutes. Deep down I feel like a complete fake. The lovely thing is, the more I fake the better I get at it. So I guess the only thing to do is to keep on faking until I’m a professional. It was fun when I really nailed it. Which I think I did on occasion. Yet I tremble with fear that there are those in the audience who know the topic much better than I. One woman actually said out loud that she was raised in Alaska and seemed very bitter when I mispronounced a native word. I immediately said, “You should be up here instead of me”. I think it disarmed her effectively.

It isn't easy to speak professionally. It isn't easy to do the Grad school thing. But life is so much more interesting if you take the hard road.