Incorrect Comparisons

Today i've written coping skill poetry, chased runaways, physically held children who want to hurt themselves or others, sat on the ground pretending to be a butterfly with a child, fast talked a child into attempting to complete a chore, dealt with some secrets and frustration, given 4839 hugs and danced in the rain. I have been what has been needed in the moment and had to be an emotional chameleon. I love what I do. My children deserve so much more than they are given. They have come through hell and back again and are doing emotional work most adults find difficult in an attempt to break a cycle they didn't choose. All that I do on a daily basis gives me a glimpse into a world many will never enter. So many of you have been so compassionate about the trials of my children and been so prayerful about the next steps some of them will take. But compassion in one area does not excuse a lack of compassion in another simply because my children are citizens and others are not.

As I am on the road to sanctification and becoming who God intends me to be, I am so thankful that God fosters individual relationships with his children and delights in our differences. I can only imagine that in creating the world, God was expressing his artistry. God is about the individual, but I seem to see so many of his children making sweeping, uninformed generalizations on social media. So many people who have been so kind in person, are so cold in posts. Regardless of politics, age, race, gender, net worth or any other factor, I believe that we are called first and foremost to love. Jesus went to the least of these. Jesus got down in the dirt and reached out his hands towards those who were seen as untouchable. Jesus loved in tangible and real ways. We are called to be followers of Christ, but are we looking for him outside our comfort zones and political parties?

All of this to say, my children are not your statistic. When I have spent my days on the ground holding children as they cry or try to hurt themselves or others because of the horror they have lived through, it stuns me to see them used as a Facebook status by people who don't know them to prove a poorly made and incorrect point. What is happening in our world is heartbreaking. What is happening in our nation is heartbreaking. What is happening at our boarders is heartbreaking. It also breaks my heart to see what is happening to families who are not here legally compared to what has happened to my children. These are individual stories and individual people. Do not make a generalization that trivializes the horror of what happens to both my children, and those who are being taken from their families at the boarder. Do not equate people who abuse children, with people who are searching for better for their children. Yes, coming to the country illegally is illegal, but there is a difference between crossing a boarder without approval, and abuse. You are painting desperate people as monsters and trivializing the monsters who haunt the nightmares of my children every night. My children are abused and then put in a system filled with people like me who are trying to help and love them. The children taken from their families at the boarder are held in conditions that would get my organization shut down. It is in no way the same. 

I understand that people have different viewpoints and priorities. I understand that other people have things that are very important to them that I don't place value or worth in. I understand that, because of where we live and the freedoms that we have, these opinions are allowed to be expressed. But it is still heartbreaking to see my kids, who work so hard to become something other than a statistic, become one for someone who wants to make a point that I honestly don't believe Jesus would make. It is heartbreaking to see families ripped apart at the boarder and then see what is accepted as "humane" treatment of children and adults, simply because they are not legal citizens. 

I would urge you to remember your compassion. Be a Christian first and an American second. Have your political views, but make sure that you remember the individuals behind the sweeping generalizations you make. And please, don't use my kids to try to prove your point. They are working really hard every single day. 

Helping Helpers / Burden of Communication

We all have different coping skills. One of mine is K-pop. Sometimes after being called every name in the book, it is nice to disappear into another language and culture for a minute. Today one of the singers in a group that shuffles onto my playlist pretty frequently committed suicide. My happy little colorful world was a little darker today. In looking at the responses one stuck out to me because it was repeated so often; "He helped me feel better on my dark days." People couldn't seem to fathom that someone who helped them, could need help. 

I    see this idea repeated at work all the time. The ones who are most often responding to the call for help, have their calls for help ignored. If someone seems strong on the outside, it doesn't mean they feel strong on the inside. Often times the people responding to the struggles of others the fastest aren't doing so because the possess some innate strength, or are untouched by the horror around them. They are responding and reaching out because they understand the urgency. It is easy to recognize the pain in others when it is echoed in your face every time you look in a mirror. 

We see this repeated over and over in the circles we travel. Pastors, parents, teachers, singers, actors, athletes, young, old, men and women all struggle with unseen burdens that sometimes cause them to make drastic choices. 

During this season of celebration, don't forget to check in with people around you. I    don't mean make sure you get them a present with a big shiny bow, I    mean look them in the eye and listen to what they are trying to tell you. Give the gift of being intentional and supportive. Check on the person who always checks on everyone else. Check in on the friend who always seems to know when something is wrong. Make sure that you are seeing and hearing those around you that you love. Help the helpers. 

The flip side of this is that depression makes you want to hide. Those of you who struggle or have struggled with this darkness know that it is isolating and alienating. It can be so easy to think that you are crying out for help, or question how no one sees your pain and use the supposed ignorance of others as another wall to hide behind. I    used to sit up at night and question how no one knew I    was drowning, or how no one could see my pain. Then I    took a communication class and the professor would always stress that the burden of communication was on the communicator. I       can't say something one time and expect you to understand it seven times. If I    want you to understand I    have to keep communicating until you do. 

Luckily for me, I     had people understand me. But I    still have to remind myself all the time that I      can't express things once and leave it be. Keep going until you are understood. It is hard, and can seem impossible, but as someone who has been in the darkness, I    can tell you it is worth it to make sure you are heard. If you are your own worst enemy and it seems like you can't get up, there is no shame in asking for help. And if someone doesn't understand, keep trying. It is worth it and so are you. 

As you celebrate the Savior who came to us in the most vulnerable package possible this season, remember to be vulnerable with those around you. Support them in love. Communicate and listen. 

Me too.

I've debated writing this over and over again. Does my experience count? Do my words matter? Is my story important? And then I thought about how I would feel if someone I loved experienced what I have and it stopped being a debate, and the process of putting my heart and thoughts into words began.
I still remember the first time I felt like an object. I was in middle school and I had "developed" a little faster than most of the other girls in my grade. A group of boys was going around and popping the bra straps of girls in the hallways between classes. Before I fully understood what was happening,  it was my turn. Having someone pop my bra would have been uncomfortable enough, but this boy somehow unhooked my bra. I crossed my arms and went to the bathroom, face red and eyes blurred to fix my clothes. Then I went to class.
I always gave my mom the "bad boy report" after school, tattling on the boys in my class for being rude or weird, but I didn't include that incident in the report. I didn't tell anyone, somehow internalizing it as being my fault for developing quickly.
While that was the first time I felt like a thing instead of a person, it was by no means the last. Somehow, being an unattached woman in college and now means that I am in some way seen as deficient. While walking into the store by myself I have been told "Baby I'll take care of you if you take care of me" with a gesture I'm sure you can imagine attached. I just put my head down and walked a little faster, red faced yet again. I've had boys in college classes have a conversation about me, in front of me, about how since I didn't put in "effort" to look nice for class at 8:00 am, I must put in "effort" in the bedroom. Yet again, I didn't say anything and tried to shrink down and be invisible. Once on a plane I felt someone staring at me and turned from the window to see the man in the seat next to me staring blatantly at my chest. I stared back eyebrows raised until he looked at my face. He then smiled, shrugged, and went right back to staring. There was little I could do except shift away from him, cross my arms and go back into my bubble, enduring it for the next hour and a half we had together. I've had strangers pull me in for hugs, or put their hands in my back pockets, suggest how they could make things more interesting for me, suggest how I should dress or what parts of my body I should emphasize. Ive been groped in crowds, not even knowing who it was and more than once, had to push someone off my person who seemed to believe I "wanted it". It seems as if many men feel like they get to comment on my life and choices as I am not already "claimed" by one.
But I am still one of the lucky ones. I am one of the only women I know without a sexual assault story. While I have been harassed, embarrassed, and uncomfortable, I haven't been raped. And this makes me in the vast minority of women I know. There is something about being used or looked at as an object that makes you feel covered in shame. I know I have had the thoughts "Well I am walking alone" or "Well I am wearing make up today" as if that somehow means that the comments, gestures and stares can be excused or justified. The guilt from these situations is almost always immediately internalized because there must be some reason why someone acted that way. There had to have been reason for someone to think that I would accept their actions towards me.
But it isn't a compliment. It isn't flattering and it isn't invited. Yes means yes, and no means no, but both are answers to a question that isn't being asked. There is a liberty that is being taken because I am a woman. Because I am woman, some men feel like they can say and act in certain ways without first getting my consent. What is truly frightening is that these men exist everywhere and until I sat down and really thought about it, I didn't think I had a story to tell. I have wonderful men in my life who did everything I can possibly think of while I was growing up to help me have a good sense of self. I know I am created for a purpose by a God who loves me and wants my good. I know right from wrong and that my voice matters and that I am entitled to personal boundaries, and this still happens to me. So yes, unfortunately, me too. But hopefully, because we are staring a dialogue now, in the future, we can say not them.

Testing Testing 123

The way that I cope with life is to try to find the lesson or life-skill that can be gleaned from every circumstance. As someone who has struggled with depression and self-worth, the thing that saved me was coming to the realization that though I wasn't created for this, I could learn from it. God can use even the shattered pieces of me, and sometimes that I all I have to offer. It is incredibly freeing to know that I don't have to be anything specific, I only have to be, and God will mold the rest.

After my last post however, I felt like I lost my voice. The child I was hoping not to lose, I lost. I walked into work one day to find that she was now gone, removed from my care and passed along to the next level of a broken system. My heart broke and I waited for the lesson. Then I got caught in the emotional riptide and wave after wave crashed over me. People I trusted were lying to me, people I loved were being terrible to each other, and people I respected suddenly were behaving in ways I couldn't understand. So, as introverts do, I retreated into my safe shell and kept my mouth shut. 

But I am not created for my shell. So here is my lesson. I am not taking my toys and going home. I am going to continue to use my voice for things I believe in, even when I feel like no one is listening. So here are the things I have been wanting to say. 

1. I have friends who are liberal and conservative, homosexual and homophobic, religious and atheist, old and young, male and female, black, white, brown and all shades in-between. Guess what? You all matter. Every single stinking one of you. Even if I don't know you, but you exist in the world somewhere, you matter. Whether I agree with you or not, you are valuable because God assigns your worth and I am called to love you. Why on earth can't we have discussions where we can agree to disagree in love? Why do we only seem to love the neighbors that look and think and act like us? Have convictions, opinions, thoughts and fears, but remember why we are here. Love already won. God is in control. Take a breath, take a beat and then try to remember that you were put on this earth as an ambassador for Christ...to ALL those He created. 

2. There is no shame in saying you don't know something. My girls look to me for answers all the time from big life issues, to math homework questions. Sometimes I have no clue what to say, but I can always work to find an answer. I have seen so many people on Facebook and other platforms posting complete and utter lies with such conviction. There is so much fear and hate spread around because people don't take time to research or reflect before they respond. Sometimes it is better to ask why someone believes something than to just jump in with why they are wrong. Just because you are an adult doesn't mean that you have to have an opinion about everything. Life is a learning process, and admitting that you aren't an expert in every subject known to man is not an failure. I am terrible at math, cannot gauge time well, don't know what to do in social situations and about a million other things, but that is okay. There is nothing wrong with admitting that you are imperfect or uninformed. We are all imperfect and we are lucky enough to live in an age where information is just a keystroke away. 

3. Community community community. I cannot stress this one enough. We all need people in our lives who embrace us when we are down, challenge us when we are weak, love us when we are broken, and are willing to break us when we are doing damage. We cannot do this alone. Find people who can stand under the weight of your words and be willing to stand under theirs. Find people brave enough to stand beside you as you fight, but will also stand in your way when you are heading in the wrong direction. Embrace the differences in each other because none of them are more important than what we have in common. Stand together, even when divided, because you know that nothing is more important than truly saving a world that is lost. 

So there it is. My voice is back, I am on my feet and ready to engage in battle once more. May you all find compassion, conviction and community as you fight your own.  

How Much?

I tell my girls all the time that it doesn't matter how much I want it for them, they have to work to make it happen. I can give them all the tools I know how to provide, but they still have to be the ones to use them to build a better life and foundation for themselves. I can pray and watch and be there to lend a hand when they need it, but if they aren't willing to put in the effort, there will never be any real change. It makes me think of a story my sister told me about when she went on a mission trip years ago and was trying to hand out bibles on a street corner. She stood there, bright eyed and enthusiastic and had to watch person after person walk by her without taking what she was offering. She stood with the tool dying people needed, and had to watch as people continued on in darkness. Her heart broke. It can be easy to forget that just because it is easy for you to give, doesn't mean it is easy for someone else to take.
One of mine right now is in a downward spiral. We have tried so many different ways to reach her, but in her mind, giving up is easier than trying and failing again. The work we ask them to do is difficult. It is an uphill battle to move from where you have been, past the abuse and trauma, into who you can be without that darkness being in control anymore. For my girls it means trusting an adult, when the last adult they trusted was most likely part of their abuse story. It also means letting go of the person they became to protect themselves while in hell, and being vulnerable, relaxing back into childhood and learning how to be something other than a victim. Tom Cruise can take a crack at it, but it is a pretty impossible mission. Yet every single day, I ask them to try. I ask them to show up and make an effort to be something more than they were the day before. I ask them to take steps away from their pasts and to dream about what they can be. I ask them to make goals and laugh. I try to train them to worry about whether or not they are going to pass a science test instead of worrying if they are going to eat today or who is going to come in their room tonight. I have no doubt in God's ability to love and change his children, but it is not always an easy process.
Today we had to have the discussion that my struggling one might need more help than we can offer her. Today I had to decide how much of my heart she gets to break. I am an imperfect and flawed person, but I have been greatly loved in this life by amazing family and some invaluable friends. I try to pass that along to every child that I get to call mine. I try to love with abandon and authenticity, but when we are approaching the end of the road, I am faced with the task of deciding to either pull back and try to emotionally distance myself so that less of my heart breaks, or dive in even more, hoping that the impossible change occurs. I ask myself this question like I have a choice, because every single time my answer is the same. I dive in. It would be easier if I could distance myself, but that isn't what I am called to do. I am called to break, to shatter if necessary, and allow God to re-shape me as I continue along this journey.
But I am not alone. There are atrocities in the world we live in. We are too often guilty of staying inside our comfort zones, judging others for not handling situations correctly, instead of putting ourselves out there to break and be re-built. I have some amazing friends on the front lines of issues, giving their hearts and voices to try to make tomorrow better in some way. I see them shatter and then pick right back up, because they trust the one who made them and called them his own. I see other people sit in their comfortable ignorance, judging the failures of those who try. I see people who have a Christianity checklist and view the bible as a buffet, only taking what they can comfortably digest. Too many people are willing to speak the name of God to prove a point on Facebook, and not willing to get down on someone's level and show them the love of God. A God who made the person they hate, are afraid of, and post about with intention and care.
God was not afraid to love with abandon, outside of societal norms and customs. Jesus literally broke his body for us, giving us the perfect demonstration of being rebuilt after breaking, yet we hesitate and pull back. Don't pull back. Don't be afraid to break for what God leads you to break for. Trust that you will be re-built and given what you need. Stop being afraid of different. Stop accepting what has been for what will always be. I ask my girls to change and grow every single day and now I am asking you to do the same. Be loving, not hateful, even when afraid. Be careful with your words, using them to build up those around you. Be present in the moments that are hard, letting people know they aren't struggling alone. Let your heart break for a broken world, and maybe as you are re-built, it will become a little less broken.

Safe Space

When I was growing up, safe space was something I took for granted. It never crossed my mind to think that I could walk into my kitchen and see my dad raising his fists at my mom. It never occurred to me to be worried that I would walk in and see my mom taking pills she wasn't supposed to take. My house was always the one that friends wanted to come to because no one would be drunk or fighting and my mom always had snacks. I had the mom that attempted to be a good hostess to whatever gaggle of friends I had with me that day. My dad has never made me feel unsafe despite being so much taller and stronger than I am. It wasn't until college that I began to understand that I had been raised in a safe space.
Safe space is something that I am still figuring out. I remember walking into my friend Elizabeth's house my freshman year of college and immediately feeling safe. As I sat around a table with people I didn't know yet, I could feel that these people were battle ready, having fought through their own as a unit. I was in a well established safe space and I was welcomed in with open arms. My Mississippi family is one that I know, despite distance and time, will be willing to hunker down with me and work out whatever I am up against. These are the people that when you have to say hard words, look back at you unflinchingly, and stand ready to be on your team when you tap them in. When I thought about my home, and Elizabeth's home, I began to get a better picture of how I could build safe space for others.
With my girls, safe space isn't easy. It isn't already established and we have to go through battles and storms together for them to be able to know that I am someone who is actively working for their good. Sometimes, they understand and use us as a growing ground, moving past where their abusers can reach. Sometimes, they are too untrusting and I can only hope the seeds I plant with grow into safe space when watered by someone else who is trying. But as I look at my co workers, ready and willing to battle whatever comes, I know I am yet again, surrounded by safe space.
Sunday was a hard day. My emotions got the better of me and I had to walk away from a situation because the child didn't need anymore of my tears. I knew, as I looked at the people who were attempting intervention with me, that they would do no harm, and seek to aid in the restoration process. I could walk away because I knew others were committed to making safe space for my girl. All I could do was pray from afar.
As I called upon the only one who knows all, sees all and can provide the help we needed, I felt that safe space again. God was enveloping me, giving me comfort and strength to stay and accomplish all that we needed to get done to get my girls though routine. I also began to pray for those who are coming soon. Right now I have two empty rooms in my unit, so here will be two girls with stories and hurts all their own moving in in the weeks to come. I want them to know, despite where they are coming from, that this is a safe space to heal and work. Friends, in the days to come will you pray that those who are coming to me, and those who are already entrusted to my care, will understand that they are in a safe space? Pray that they will be able to focus on what matters and not be distracted by the habit of worrying about old fears, like whether or not they are going to be beaten or fed. I would also challenged you to make sure that those in your circle feel they have a safe space to be vulnerable and land after storms. Be careful with your words and deeds. Be sensitive and open to listening to hard words. Be loving and kind to those who expect condemnation and rejection. Be Christ to a world who is in desperate need of a savior.

I Believe...

One of my girls today was asking me if I believed in the tooth fairy. It was a silly conversation that stuck with me for awhile because it was very different from other conversations I have had recently. This little one was asking me if I believed in something, yet it seems in so many conversations, tv advertisements, radio blurbs and just general life, people are telling me what I should believe. I am of an age where I get to have a vote and an opinion, but people still seem to think I am not as entitled to a vote or opinion as they are. I might think I know what I believe, but they all know what I should believe. It is a frustrating place to be. All of these thoughts collided and made me sit down and think about what I really do believe and why. It is a great exercise and I would encourage you all to find time and think about yourselves as well. Here are my top 5 I came up with:

1. I believe that God sent his son Jesus to die on the cross for my sins and in so dying, paid a price I could never pay so that I could be reconciled with my Heavenly Father and Creator someday in Heaven. My job is to accept the gift I have been given and seek to follow Christ in thought, word, and  deed. 
This is where it all has to begin for me. Without God, I am nothing and can do nothing. In my darkest deepest pits, the thought that saved me from myself was that I was created to glorify God and my depression was in no way bringing Him glory, so there HAD to be more for me. I was planned and purposed by God before I was even a thought to my parents, and when I feel that I have nothing left, no where to go, or nothing to hold on to, God sustains me.

2. My calling is to love people. 
Regardless of age, gender, race, religion, nationality, sexual orientation, style, behavior, or any other factor my tired brain is forgetting, I am called to love the world around me and share the love God has for them. First and foremost, my actions and thoughts need to reflect the love of Christ and myself to a world in desperate need. Fear and hatred do not get to have strongholds in my life. People need to know God loves them and I need to be able to convey that message no matter what a person looks like.

3. Everyday magic exists.
A song, a smile, a story, a look, a laugh, a thought, a book, a cup of tea, whatever makes you happy and brings you joy is, to me, everyday magic. When I see a child's face light up because they finally figured out that word on their homework, or I find myself tapping my feet along to a song in the background, I know there is a beauty to everyday life if I take the time to pause and recognize it. I am guilty of focusing too much on the business of life and too little on the moments and missing some of that magic, but it is still there.

4. Everyone needs boundaries.
We get to be tired. We get to say no. We get to feel crummy and be grumpy. I need to know myself enough to know when I need to rest and recharge. Loving people does not mean letting them walk all over me and putting Christ first does not mean I ignore my physical and emotional limitations. God provides for us and equips us, but we are still human and need to stop feeling guilty when we have to say no.

5. If it matters to you, it matters.
Shoutout to Elizabeth Henry for this one. Those seven words changed my life. Regardless of if I understand why it matters, if it matters to someone, it is valid. People's feelings are valid. I don't get to tell people they can't or don't feel the way they think they do, and no one can tell me how I have to think or feel. Everyone gets time to react and process and if it matters to them, it matters.

I believe many other things as well, like that tea is better than coffee and strawberry cake is the best kind of birthday cake, but for me, these are what make up the core of who I am and aspire to be. I still have a long way to go and so much growing up to do, but right now, I can say I am pretty happy to be where, and who, I am.