from the heart

What Does the Josh Duggar Dialogue Say to Assault Victims?

23 May

When I started this blog, I had decided that I never wanted to write this post. Hot button topics? Politics? Debate? This was never going to be that sort of blog. There was enough internet commentary already, and mine wasn’t going to be that sort of place. And yet I’m sitting here in front of the screen, writing my first post back after a month long hiatus of sorts, and never in a million years did I expect THIS to be what I needed to write. But for the million and one blogs and articles dissecting the recent Duggar scandal from every angle and point of view, one was glaringly missing to me: and it’s the one I simply can’t allow to remain silent. Am I concerned about the potential loss of readership? Of course. But some things are simply too important to remain silent about. Someone has to speak up for those who can’t always speak for themselves. So bear with me dear readers. I promise, this will not be a heated debate or rehashing of the same rhetoric you see all over social media and the blogsphere. If you would give me a few minutes and an open mind, I want to give some thought to the people who are being given the least attention right now in this whole sensational media explosion - the victims of sexual assault.

What exactly does our public dialogue about Josh Duggar say to victims: both his own victims, and all victims of sexual assault by a family member or friend? As I read post after post, status after tweet, and all manner of debate and discussion about what and who is to blame, I can’t help but read each of them through the eyes of assault victims. I see some common themes and phrases popping up repeatedly in response to the all out attack the Duggar family is supposedly facing right now, and I wonder how many people have really asked themselves what they are communicating to assault victims with their words? Let’s take a closer look at four of the more prevalent messages I’m seeing.

“He sought forgiveness and repented, and became a great person, so why is everyone trying to destroy him over a past mistake?”
A common theme to some of the defenses of Josh Duggar seem to be that he’s a good man, a family man, with a wife and kids who depend on him, and that coming after him is vindictive and cruel. There are many who would frame the dialogue to make Josh a victim in his own right: coming under fire from an out and out attack by the progressive left. Over and over I hear messages of sympathy for a man who’s built a wonderful life for himself and his family and is now being senselessly dragged through the mud when he’s already repented and apologized. But what does this dialogue say to victims of sexual assault, especially those who experience their pain at the hands of someone they know and quite possibly even love? The heartbreaking message we are sending them is that if your abuser apologizes and seeks your forgiveness, its unfair and purely vindictive to seek meaningful legal consequences for their actions. If Josh Duggar is being unfairly persecuted despite his apologies and remorse, what does that say to a young victim who is struggling to decide whether or not to potentially “ruin the life” of her family member by reporting them to authorities? How much harder is it for a victim to knowingly send a long time friend and mentor to jail when they are being bombarded with messages about how believing in the power of Gods forgiveness means accepting a heartfelt apology and not destroying the life of a “good person” over a “mistake.” It is difficult enough for many sexual assault victims to seek justice in their cases because they already struggle with the complexities of feeling both love and pain towards the same person in their abuser, so in adding this extra layer of confusion how many victims might we be ultimately silencing? How many will now tell themselves that the “right” thing to do is accept an apology and move on without justice?

“How can people call him a child molestor when he was just a child himself!” / “He was so young! It wasn’t a crime, it was teenage mischief!”
This has got to be one of the most damaging pieces of rhetoric I have seen making the rounds. What are we saying to countless sexual assault victims when we write off these crimes as “teenage antics?” What are we saying to them when we publicly declare that Josh was simply too young to be held accountable for any sort of real crime? So if a young girl’s abuser is also another teenager, does this in fact negate the crime? Are we telling her that no crime has actually occurred at all, thereby stripping her of her victimhood? How can a nice girl from a nice family hope to report a sex crime when she is met with the idea that it wasn’t really a crime at all but teenagers fooling around with their sexuality? Furthermore, as the mother of two boys I see a big part of my job as teaching them that they have responsibility for their choices, and about the importance of consent in regards to sexuality. This dialogue certainly flies in the face of that message. If Josh Duggar didn’t commit a crime and was just “exploring” or “curious,” what terrifying messages does that send to our sons about both consent and personal responsibility? If that 14 year old can’t be held responsible for his sexual actions, what does that say to my boys about theirs?

“It was 12 years ago! Why bring it up now? He shouldn’t be defined by a mistake from so long ago.”
Easily one of the most common themes permeating the dialogue right now is the idea that this was all ancient history and it serves no good to bring it up now. Are we ready to look assault victims in the face who are 10, 15, even 20 years beyond their ordeals and tell them that it’s all “water under the bridge” and that any pain they still feel is simply outside the bounds of normal? Are we willing to place limits on how long they can relive the trauma, how big the lasting effects can be, or how much they are even allowed to claim their crimes have effected them? And what of women who simply weren’t ready or able report their crimes years ago, but wish to step forward now and seek whatever justice may be left? Are we willing to tell them there is a time limit not only on the reaches of justice but the length of our sympathies? Why report a decades old crime when all you will be met with is tales of what a nice guy your abuser grew up to be and how it was all so long ago its simply not worth bringing up. It also begs to question whether we apply this same standard to ALL sexual offenders. Should we remove all sex crimes from a criminal record after a decade has past? Perhaps we should lift the ban on former offenders being teachers, childcare workers, etc. After all, we are claiming we shouldn’t define them by a past mistake right? Are we ready to abolish the sex offender registry and forgive all past offenders as easily as we are expecting the world to forgive Josh Duggar?

“This is a liberal attack on the Duggars, because they are such great Christian role models.”
I’m going to make a heartfelt plea to my fellow believers on this one: guys, we have GOT to stop saying this. Think this one through. Do we really want to send the message that reporting the crimes of any of our own is going to met with the overwhelming response that this is unfair persecution and simply the attack of some sort of liberal agenda? Do we want the world to see us as a church body that will stand by its own at all costs, even if it means defending a child molester because he’s such a “good guy?” I understand how hard it is for many of my faith to feel like the world is out there just looking for a way to take us down. I understand we’ve been told that the media is out to discredit us all and seeks our demise. And I will even admit that whoever brought this recent scandal to light probably had less than saintly motives and that yes, there are plenty of people out there who are doing a victory dance on the Duggars’ perceived grave. BUT, and this is a big but y’all, does that really and truly justify going out there and portraying Josh himself as the victim in all this? And more importantly, what do you think we are saying to victims of sexual abuse when we show them that the church is quite possibly going to close ranks and protect their own if someone wants to call out an abuser in our midst? How many girls sitting in our own pews right now are getting the message that if they somehow muster the courage to admit someone in our congregation has assaulted them, that they might just find their attacker painted as the victim and see themselves be hung out to dry for attacking such Godly upstanding men of character? An overwhelming majority of sexual assaults already go unreported, and sadly this is already the main reason why: it’s hard enough to hope that adults are going to believe you when you are young, but it’s exponentially harder when the person you stand to accuse is seen as an upstanding citizen and person of faith. We as a church have a responsibility to sexual assault victims everywhere to make a very public stand: we will not protect or support criminals in our midst. We will not write off accusations against as our own as merely “spiritual warfare” or “liberal agenda.” We will not close ranks when we feel slighted. We we always first and foremost stand for VICTIMS. Period.

The Biggest Lie We Believe

by thejoyparade

4 Apr

I hear it time and time again from people I care about: the insidious little lie that wriggles in and sets up root in our hearts and minds, gradually pushing everything else out as it grows, until finally we let it become so large that it stifles out any semblance of quality of life. This one lie takes away our ability to thrive and convinces us its all we can do just to survive. It makes the days drag on long, but makes the years fly by too quickly. It convinces us to trade up our passions and priorities for the mindless fodder of just getting by. It destroys us from the inside out, and we don’t even know it’s there.

My friends, it’s time we stand up once and for all the lie of completion. It’s the idea that if we just get the right ducks in a row, if we can only get our circumstances up to that certain level of security, if we can just reach those particular goals and cross those certain checkpoints - THEN we’ll have the chance to really live our life; THEN we’ll have our joy. Once it’s all complete, then we can finally get down to the rest.

How many years of my own life were wasted to this lie! How many moments did I spend surrendering my joy, convinced it all hinged on the ever shifting circumstances around me, circumstances all too often out of my control. It’s a horrible feeling when you finally bring your head up for a moment, reflect back on the years you’ve just left behind, and wonder to yourself what you really DID with them, and where they had gone to. When you look back and wish you had made more memories instead of plans, more “remember that times” instead of “someday whens.” And yet all too often we stand there, reflecting on time wasted and chances lost to us, and simply return our head down to our work - convinced ever still of the lie that there will be time for those things eventually, after we reach all the “whens” and “if onlys” in our path. We return to our toil, watering and tending the lie as it chokes the life out of each of our dreams, and robs us of all but the hope of the eventual completion - when we can finally put down our tools and set about the business of living.

The secret is that completion doesn’t exist on this side of eternity. It’s the most insidious of lies, because we’ve accepted it for truth for simply so long that it’s hard to imagine life without it. We’ve based so many of our choices, so much of the framework of our day to day, that if we suddenly let go and admitted it isn’t true? We’d have to change the very way we live. We’d have to accept the harrowing reality of the time wasted, the priorities skewed, and the years spent working towards a goal that ultimately proved to be a futile illusion like an oasis in the desert - as unreachable as it is imaginary. It would in so many ways be earth shattering, forcing us to begin anew with a transformed perspective on what this life is ultimately about.

And yet, it’s the only way we can begin to have what is it we’re ultimately after. Letting go of the lie is the only way to find the freedom to thrive.

The freedom to put our families before our employers.

The freedom to spend a day making memories instead of making to do lists.

The freedom to create a line item in our budgets for “marital enrichment,” to tell ourselves that taking those trips together should be as big of a priority as any other bill on the list, even on the months where there isn’t enough to go around.

The freedom to let go of the job with the great paycheck for the one with healthy work/home boundaries.

The freedom to live in the right now instead of the someday when.

The freedom to put that unexpected $500 towards a family vacation instead of into the 401K.

The freedom to use the good sheets, burn the good candles, and wear your best perfume for Saturday morning errands - because TODAY is special.

The freedom to tell ourselves each and every day that THIS is our life, and tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone.

The freedom to thrive instead of just survive.

This isn’t simply a call to live extravagantly, ignore our means, and burn our budgets. Hear me when I say that there is a place for planning and that real life comes with real responsibilities. If you don’t pay the electric bill, they will turn your lights off. No, letting go of the lie of completion simply means giving up the idea that someday we’ll meet the elusive goal of total security. It’s letting go of the belief that someday we’ll reach a place where there wont be anything else more deserving of our time or our resources, and we’ll finally live happily ever after. It means recognizing that priorities don’t happen unless you MAKE them happen, and that every day we are asked to use our time and our money to demonstrate just what those priorities really are. It means that dedicating every cent of our resources, and every hour of our week, towards creating an incredible retirement some day? That means choosing to give up the time we have right now in favor of the hopefully someday - a someday we are never guaranteed to reach.

In essence we’re all playing the gameshow of life, and you have a choice: to walk away with all the cash and prizes you’ve won, or you can trade them for the mystery prize behind door number two. Sure, the mystery prize could be a trip around the world and a brand new car… or it could be a years supply of toilet paper. You wont really know until you open the door, and once you do it’s too late to go back. Is it worth the risk? How much are you willing to give up for the hope of possibility alone? What if today was your last? What if each and every day we framed our outlook with the reminder that people die, economies crash, and the unexpected happens, and all of our best planning simply cant control the future. Would it change the way you live? Can we really afford to give up the here and now, the time with our families, the chance to make the memories and have those experiences, and trade it all for nothing more than a hope of a maybe?

Give up the lie of completion.

Let go of the hope that someday it will all come together and you can start living your life.

Give up on chasing the elusive dream of a finished check list - a world where there is nothing more demanding of your time and resources and priorities stop requiring a choice.

Give yourself permission to live right now.

Grab on to today and make it count.

Prioritize the here and now.

Put your time and your money into what matters to you most.

Store up your treasures in heaven instead of your 401k.

Make memories instead of plans.

Stop choosing the mystery door.

I Stopped Praying for Things, and It Strengthened My Faith

by thejoyparade

26 Mar

Follow me for long enough and you’ll know that I certainly didn’t get my tattoo on a whim. The concept of immeasurably more has been something I talk about pretty constantly.

The phrase comes from Ephesian 3:20 which says “And to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us.” In our family the phrase has been adopted into something we say whenever things aren’t seemingly going our way. You’ll hear “well, this must just be another immeasurably more thing.” What we mean is that we are so incredibly small in our humanity, that we simply cant even begin to imagine big enough to really ask for God’s very best - so when things aren’t going the way we want, we simply aren’t able to imagine or ask big enough to see the whole picture. We have learned to trust that God’s best will always come through in the end, and it will always be immeasurably more than the things we thought we originally wanted. We’ve seen this truth play out time and time again in our lives in very tangible and memorable ways, so it’s become the truth we come back to time and again when times are hard.

And right now? Times are hard. My husband is still unemployed despite so many seemingly promising leads and opportunities. Unemployment still hasn’t made a single payment to us even though they owe us thousands of dollars at this point. We recently experienced a surprise pregnancy only to endure our 7th miscarriage to date. Its been a stream of situations that seem unfair and disappointing. But it’s in a time like this, clinging to the truth of immeasurably more becomes all the more essential to getting through. Having this truth tattooed permanently across my wrist ensures that I have no choice to remember it daily and meditate on it often. Recently my study of this phrase has lead me to a whole new understanding, and a deepening of my faith. You see, this past month believing in this truth has lead me to practice a new discipline in my prayers: I have stopped praying for the things I want. I know this sounds absolutely bizarre, but let me explain - and you might just come to understand your own faith in a whole new way too.

I haven’t stopped praying this past month, quite the opposite. I find myself in a near constant state of prayer: crying out to God both silently and out loud through my day to day tasks. Rather its the content of these prayers that have so radically changed. It started when my husband began to take promising interviews for possible job opportunities. The natural inclination in a situation like that is to pray desperately for the interview to go well and for it to ultimately end in a restoration of employment. But we are no stranger to this whole situation, and I’ve seen how that can end in the past. We would get our hopes up about a particular position, start to pray constantly for it to materialize, and then when it didn’t go our way we would feel heartbroken and let down - sometimes even resentful that God would seemingly lead us towards and opportunity only to take it away. Yet the more I meditate and studied this concept of immeasurably more, the more a new truth became increasingly clear. If I truly believe He has my best in mind, and I truly believe His best is all too often better than what I can even imagine to ask for? Then praying for specifics is the very antithesis of acting in that truth. When I pray for specifics, I open my heart to potential letdown and bitterness if things don’t go my way, and its too easy to ask for things that turn out to be less than God’s very best.

So what is the alternative? This past month I have spent a lot of time studying that very question and applying the truths it’s brought me to. Instead of praying for any particular job or seemingly ideal solution to our situation, I have begun praying for my heart and mind to be more deeply rooted in His will and His truths. I pray for God to sustain our faith. I pray that His will be done, no matter the specifics. I pray that he adjust my attitude and align my heart closer to His own, that I will be led to seek after His very best and be open to receive whatever He has in store for us. I pray that our testimony be visible to others in this time. I pray that He teach me to recognize and receive all His good and perfect gifts, and that He give me the faith to see even the things that seem like disappointments as His loving act of sparing us from less than his best. I have stopped focusing on the things I think I want, and started focusing on who I know God to be. Rather than asking for specific circumstances, I’m asking for the wisdom to see His truths and the faith to openly accept His timing.

And the results? It’s been incredible - not just in the specifics of how He has been providing for us in this time, but in the deepening of my faith and my relationship with Him. Immeasurably more has become even more true to me, and the truths I’m able to glean from it’s application have only grown. Does this mean I believe that no one should pray for ANY specifics? Not at all. There is no shame in bringing your hearts deepest desires to the Lord in the intimacy of prayer. I’m finding though that it’s a truly faith strengthening discipline to set aside a certain time period, or specific situation , and admit that our human hearts all to often deceive us and the things we want most may ultimately be less than God’s best. By actively choosing to surrender ourselves to His will in such a specific way, we not only deepen our dependence on Him, but we begin to focus more on who God is and less on what He can do for us.

The truth of immeasurably more continues to play out in our life and each and every day right now, and the more I lean into it the more I find myself excited about seeing how God’s best ends up unfolding in our situation. I don’t know what His plan for us is, but I do know who He is, and for right now that’s more than enough - it’s immeasurably more than enough.

*I’ve started creating some Immeasurably More items for sale on my Zazzle, both to help bring some much needed income in for my family but also to spread a little hope and inspiration.

When Your Worst Day Goes Viral

by thejoyparade

19 Mar

Click to Read the Post That Sparked It All

Friday, February 27th was one of my worst days. We were already walking one of the hardest seasons of our life, but we had been doing our best to keep our heads up and choose joy regardless. It was then that a trip to the grocery store turned into one of the most difficult experiences of my life so far, and threatened to shake not only myself by my 5 year old son to the core. Shaken and reeling, I took to the one place I could openly speak my mind in a way I simply couldn’t when the incident occurred - my blog, my little corner of internet real estate where I could openly share anything and feel like I had a tiny platform to be heard, maybe even understood. So a sat down for 30 minutes, watching my boys playing out the window behind my screen, and put my feelings into words. It was off the cuff and right from the heart, words going directly from my brain to the page, and I simply pressed “post” and returned to my day, feeling a little relief at letting my go of that burden of words unspoken. Little could I have predicted what would happen next.

In the next 48 hours the post went absolutely viral. In fact, 90% of the TOTAL page hits to my blog in its first month? All of them came from this one post. But it didn’t stop there. A reporter from our state newspaper spoke to me over the phone and penned an article about our experience. Other blogs and websites that run guest content offered to run the piece for us on their own pages. I started “Project Aidan” and the responses only grew. People posted comments, sent private emails, and posted to the #youremyheroaidan hashtag on various social media outlets. Kids mailed us drawings for Aidan’s. People sent letters. A microscope company contacted us to applaud Aidan’s unique love of science and sent us a gift pack to cheer him up. A middle school in another state spent class time making cards and a video to tell Aidan how special he was. Aidan even had a Skype date recently with a producer from the Ellen show about possibly appearing on the program, and now Aidan will be featured on The World Needs More Love Letters where he will receive even more outpourings of love, encouragement, and acceptance. I’ve made connections in the Autism and Hyperlexia communities I never could have dreamed of. I’ve received countless emails from parents saying they cried tears of their own because they’ve been in our shoes, and the post gave them the words they couldn’t find on their own. The response continues to grow and messages keep coming in.

Aidan is still working through a lot in response to the issue. In fact I just this past Monday afternoon had a meeting with his support team at our school, and its clear he’s still grappling with so many issues related to self esteem and how he perceives himself. For Aidan, its difficult to see the difference between different from other kids, and being somehow lesser than other kids. It’s something we work every day to try to address, and Lord knows this situation made it exponentially harder right now. But Aidan is an incredible kid, with so much strength and resilience underneath it all, and every time he reads a message telling him how incredible he is or gets a card in the mail to tape up in his reading fort? I can SEE the response. It’s very real and its incredibly apparent. Every message of acceptance helps outweigh the messages that convince him he’s not good enough, and every note of encouragement helps show him that not everyone shares the opinions he was burdened with that horrible day.

The reality of a post going viral though, is not every response will be positive. There have been emails and comments that for a brief moment make me question it all - mothers of other children on the spectrum chastising me for what they view as exploitation by sharing our story publicly, people telling me I’m oversensitive and should have simply ignored it and moved on, people lamenting bloggers in general and how ridiculous they perceive the entire idea of sharing life online, even people who said the incident seemed too exaggerated to be true and suggested I made the whole thing up for our 15 minutes of internet fame. Any time you have a post that gets as much exposure as this one has, you’re bound to find voices that aren’t encouraging or supportive. It’s been an important set of lessons for me to learn as a new blogger: when and how to let those comments slide, to always ask where I get my value from and who I allow to define me, and how to keep the opinions of other keep me from changing my online voice and the message I use this platform to share. Ultimately I had to decide that if you’ve never experienced people disagreeing with something you’ve written, you might not being saying a whole lot. Criticism comes with the territory, and it’s just a speedbump, not a roadblock.

Im excited to see where this journey leads as this story continues to unfold, but for now I encouraged that God has me exactly where he meant me to be: writing, sharing our stories, and living our life as an open book to be used in ministry to others - nothing to hide, nothing to fear. I appreciate each and every message to the #youremyheroaidan hashtag, every card or drawing or gift we receive, but mostly I appreciate knowing we aren’t alone, and that there are still so many good people in this world ready to encourage the brokenhearted and speak love where its most desperately needed. Day by day its helping us erase the memory of what happened that day, and we’re confident God is using even our worst day for good. And ultimately, thats what it’s all really about.

I’m the iPhone Mom in the Food Stamps Line

by thejoyparade

4 Mar

If you follow us on social media you may be aware that in January my husband was officially laid off from his job as a mobile app developer for a start up. It was a pretty crummy situation, since only this last September the same company had given us permission to relocate from our home in the San Francisco Bay Area and begin a whole new life in Salem, Oregon. Because of the nature of my husbands work, he is able to do his job entirely online, so it was no big deal for his company to allow him to work from another state. In fact, a majority of the coworkers on my husbands project lived too far away to commute to the office, being that they all live in India. Such is the nature of the new global economy, so we were thrilled to take advantage of the opportunity to leave the hustle and bustle of Silicon Valley life and live in a quieter, slower, more intentional way here in Salem. What we didn’t expect however was that only months later the company would admit to hitting financial difficulties; difficulties they chose to solve by eliminating an employee salary - OUR salary. Yikes. So now that we relocated from the very place where a majority of these tech jobs exist, now we would be looking for work. Double yikes.

We ever so briefly asked ourselves if we had made a horrible mistake and needed to consider taking interviews back in CA, but we quickly remembered all it took for God to bring us to Oregon, and how he had confirmed to us over and over again that we wanted this life for our kids. Besides: even if we got a decent salary back in the bay, the cost of living had skyrocketed so high that we would never be back on our feet again, and certainly never have a home or a life like we’ve found here in the far more affordable state of Oregon. We recognized that it was more logical to deal with short term struggle here in Oregon, where we at least have a shot at a future, then go back to CA where we may never get out of the cycle of paycheck to paycheck life, if we could even support ourselves at all.

So Bobby went about the business of applying for new work. He even went through multiple interviews with the same company, who eventually brought him onsite to meet the team and even talk to HR… only to send him a form email the next day saying they “couldn’t offer employment at this time.” Resume after resume was going out, and most of the time he only heard crickets in response. The very last paycheck had come at the end of January, and we would do everything in our power to stretch that as long as could. Besides, Bobby had paid into unemployment insurance with every check, so we’d at least have that right?

The letter from unemployment was jarring: your claim has been denied. What? That couldn’t possibly be right. Countless phone calls and entire CD’s worth of hold music later, the mysterious problem was finally uncovered. Turns out the HR representative at Bobby’s last job had made an eentsy weentsy miniscule typo - in his social security number. *head-desk* So all those payments diligently made to unemployment insurance month after month, paycheck after paycheck, ensuring we were properly prepared for an occasion just such as this? Not a one of them was credited to Bobby, but to a magical second social security number that wasn’t even his. More phone calls and even more hold music later, the final word was something along the lines of “yes, you most definitely qualify, but no, we have no idea whatsoever how long it will take for the two states to sort this mess out. We’ll get back to you… eventually.”

So here we are - 2 kids, 1 mortgage, 0 immediate sources of income.

So now it seems the calendar says MARCH along the top, resumes are still going out each and every day, and that paycheck from January is shrinking so that it’s all but vanished at this point. I wont lie - the scariest part is when you realize you cant pay your mortgage anymore. We moved to a whole new state to seek more affordable housing, something well within responsible budgeting guideline suggestions, and yet now that we’re here we feel it slowly slipping away. February is still due, March is now upon us, and who knows when either UI benefits or a new job will finally bring the next check into our mailbox. So I finally put my pride aside and applied for food stamps, because my children need food on the table more than they need my stubborn self reliance.

A Popular Internet Meme

Now I suddenly find myself stepping into the role of an unpopular stereotype: the iPhone mom in the food stamps line. I admit it, Im terrified to answer calls on my shiny gold iPhone when I’m in the social services building or even in the grocery store line. I’ve even gone so far as to turn my wedding ring upside down so only the band is visible, the stone hidden away from view. I know what people may think: “how can you have an iPhone and claim to need food stamps?” “How can you have ANY nice things but then expect the hardworking taxpayers to pay your bills? ” And I get it: it’s hard to think that while you’re working so hard, trying desperately to create a future for your own family, that somebody else expects you to pay for theirs. And yet, here I am - forced to abandon my pride and accept the help that is often less than willingly given, knowing full well how many people may think we don’t deserve it.

The truth? Even people with good jobs who keep to the budget and make the “right” choices with their money can end up in situations they never expected, and sometimes by no fault of their own. In this new economy our story is FAR from unique. Thousands of people who have worked hard, spent money responsibly, and haven’t taken a vacation in years are finding themselves very suddenly and unexpectedly struggling to put food on their table. Gone are the days when we can assume that anyone that’s willing to work hard can make a good life for themselves. It’s no longer as simple as pulling yourself up by your bootstraps or simply altering your budget. My husband had a great job, made smart choices, always put into his retirement responsibly, and we aren’t exactly buying luxury cars or designer bags around here. Most notably my husband and I haven’t actually taken a vacation since our honeymoon - and that was over 6 years ago.

Why am I sharing all this? Why even feel the need to justify our situation? My hope is that by sharing the reality of our own situation, and how difficult it has been to even admit we need government assistance at all, that people would see that these unflattering archetypes we so easily mock represent real people with real stories. From everyone I’ve seen and spoken to in a situation like mine, one thing has been consistent: nobody PLANS to live on government assistance. Trust me when I say you aren’t getting enough to live comfortably, just enough to keep your pantry from running empty. So when you see that mom with a nice purse using her WIC coupons, or you see that man talking on his iPhone at the social services office, try not to judge. For many, needing help is a temporary situation they never expected. Even if they sold their phone or pawned their nice purse, it wouldn’t be enough to fix things anyways. Sometimes, when you’re living on so little and going without so much, it’s those little things you hold on to that help you believe you can get back there someday. They may be remnants of an old life, where the budget more than provided for them. They may be a gift from someone better off, someone who can easily afford to spoil a good friend. And for some, the harsh reality is that they may always be struggling, no matter how hard they work or how much they try. For those people in particular I would pray our hearts would have compassion over judgment, and would recognize than when your whole life is spent in a position of sacrifice, you need to have some small comforts, some little joys to make life worth living.

As far as the Tait family is concerned, I trust that God has a plan for this desert season we find ourselves in. One thing for certain is that when we receive food stamps, or a donation from a friend to help pay the bills, it’s so much easier to directly recognize God’s provision. When we have a good job and collect those paychecks? Then it’s so easy to fall into the trap of feeling like we earned it ourself, the pride that a sense of ownership and well earned entitlement can bring, and its too easy to forget who our provider really is. When you have no choice to remove yourself and your hard work from the equation, the first thing to go is that pride: the illusion is shattered, and you see each and every cent for what it really is - mana from heaven. We are immensely blessed, and we trust that God will keep providing for our needs in ways we never expect or imagine. I’d be lying if I didn’t say it’s scary right now - its downright terrifying. But real faith exists only in the presence of real fear. When we’re sure of our next step, its not faith that guides us, but common sense. Faith and fear aren’t mutually exclusive. No, faith and fear live in a beautiful intimacy, totally intertwined until you cant tell where one begins and the other ends.

So for now we focus on living authentically, and being open about wherever God takes us in this story. Perhaps an incredible new job is just on the horizon. Perhaps the lean times will continue and Gods miraculous provision will keep being displayed in unexpected places. I wont pretend I know the plan, in fact I will openly admit I dont have the foggiest idea what it is at this point, but I don’t have to know it to trust it. I know HIM, and I know His promises, and thats enough for now. Every time I look at the tattoo on my wrist I’m reminded of this verse which keeps us moving forward each day in that trust:

“And to Him who is able to do IMMEASURABLY MORE than all we ask or imagine according to His power than is at work within us.” (Ephesians 3:20)

**UPDATE: BOBBY WILL BE STARTING A NEW JOB ON 4/13! PRAISE THE LORD FOR HIS PROVISION!!!!**

More Than A Buzzword

by thejoyparade

2 Mar

If you’re fairly present on social media like I am, you may have noticed some really positive words are trending lately. Words like authentic, and intentional, and vulnerable - they’ve all been reaching their veritable status buzzwords and are now being hashtagged at a fever pitch. It seems fairly evident that people are growing increasingly weary of the constant facade and are tired of being bombarded with picture perfect highlight reels of seemingly perfect lives on social media. So we carve these words into the covers of our journals or buy beautiful hand lettered prints on Etsy, determined to apply their virtues as we embrace the new year.

And for many, thats where it stops.

Because reality is that these are incredibly demanding words. They fly in the face of all that we value as a modern society and demand that we live in a radically countercultural way to everyone and everything around us. And for most of us, thats just simply not what we signed up for.

I mean sure, we like the IDEA of “intentional,” and we want people to SEE us “authentic,” but are we really ready to sign up for turning our entire existence upside down to dedicate ourselves to words that so wholly refute most everything we have built our lives on?

And so countless women across Instagram throw their hair into a strategically messy ponytail, put on their makeup but skip those last steps of eyeliner and gloss, and take 3-4 outtakes before finding the perfect selfie to hashtag #therealme

Moms all over Facebook straighten up their living rooms, leaving a few toys scattered just so, and post a half-truth update about needing to be #authentic about the way their house isn’t actually perfect.

Ugly, gross, embarrassing truth time? I’ve DONE this. For my own personal confession, I present to you Exhibit A in the case against me for my own pseudo-authenticity. Last year I posted this photo to Instagram:

I captioned it, “Authenticity Moment” and went on to talk about how important it was to show our real lives on social media and not be afraid to show our messes. And sure, there are a few dishes in the sink here, and the paper towel roll needs refilling, but seriously? You want to see a REAL authenticity moment? THIS is what my sink actually looks like sometimes:

Y’all. I CANT EVEN. Feel free to call me out for that one, because I *know* I deserve it.

We are selling ourselves short if we really think this is the best we can do. Authenticity is so much more than a buzzword. Being Intentional? Its hard work: taking every thought captive, and making every choice with a real thought to our values and goals. And being vulnerable? Its probably the most intense of them all - baring our flaws in all their glory so that HIS glory can shine through. Its easier said than done, but it certainly doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to do them either.

Pseudo-authenticity isn’t helping anyone. Can we all just agree to stop cleaning up our houses for company and then saying “oh sorry for the mess” when they walk in? Can we actively try to look at our social media and consciously reflect our lives in their most authentic state? Can we stop simply lettering these words across our coffee mugs and surrender ourselves to them in a real and radical way? Or maybe for some of us its a simple as promising not to keep offhandedly hash tagging these life altering words until we’re wholly ready to see our lives transformed into something unrecognizable.

I can promise you this, if you dedicate yourself to discovering the height and the depth of words like these: it may not mean suddenly uprooting and moving to another state, or jumping into a new career, or putting your life online for the world to see - that happens to be my story, and yours may look nothing like it - but it WILL be utterly transformative. Life as you know it will change in every facet of your existence, and nothing will ever be the same.

An Open Letter to the Man in Grocery Store

by thejoyparade

28 Feb

Yesterday was tough day.

It’s the day the every special needs parent dreads in the pit of their being and desperately hopes they never experience. In a world thats come so far in terms of tolerance and acceptance, I had almost begun to believe the comforting naivetés like “people know better now” and “no one thinks that way anymore.”

Yesterday it all came tumbling down and reality came crashing through again.

While exiting the grocery store my boys and I crossed paths with you when you entered to do your shopping. You were wearing your camouflage jacket, proudly displaying patches identifying yourself as a veteran, the very sort of hero that Aidan has begun to emulate all around the backyard on his various “missions.” You made eye contact with Aidan, who was walking in front of my cart happily babbling on about new shoes he had picked out and how the springs in the heels just might even help him jump over a building if he practiced enough. Now Aidan typically responds to direct eye contact from strangers in one of two ways: he is either resistant and defensive, sometimes even verbally demanding that patrons stop looking at him, otherwise he responds quite to the other extreme and establishes an immediate relationship with the person in his head and desperately tries to connect and interact. In this particular occasion, he fell into column B. When asking Aidan about the incident, he told me he wanted to “play soldier with the solider.” This played out in the form of jumping in place into a playful stance of what can only be described as “put em up tiger,” and an accompanying “grrrrrrrr” for good measure.

Now I want to be perfectly clear about something: I don’t for two seconds believe that simply because my child is on the spectrum, that he is entitled to behave any way he pleases in public. For every measure of grace we give, there is an equal measure of teaching and guidance. And ultimately as a parent of ANY child, isn’t that all we can do? It’s entirely unreasonable to assume that any amount of good parenting could keep our children from ever acting out in public. No a good parent is simply one who uses each opportunity as a teaching experiences and is consistent in guiding their children to better choices.

You looked at my son menacingly, then mumbled something at me under your breath while shaking your head in disapproval. “Im sorry,” I tried to say politely with a meager smile, “my son is on the spectrum.” I wasn’t planning to stop there, leaving my statement to waft around as some sort of free pass to continue on with our day. In fact I was angling myself to come down to my sons eye level and ask him to offer you not only an apology, but the greeting he has been well taught to offer any in uniform - “thank you for your service.” But before I could speak another word you stepped in gruffly. “Heh, that’s one thing you could call it.” Your words were seething with disapproval, broadcasting your judgment of my apparent lack of parenting skills and my inability to control my children.

I admit it, I was defensive at this point, seeing my sons face flashing with confusion and anxiety, desperately looking for cues from me on how to interpret a social situation that was simply too complex for his special brain to understand. My tone was less than polite at this point as I snapped back, “Excuse me? Do you even understand what it means to be on the autism spectrum?” I know, I could have shown more grace. I could have kept my patience. Maybe you were having a horrible day. Maybe you struggle with your own special challenges. I could have been kinder, but my words were sharp and pointed.

It was at this point you began to yell, each phrase bringing with it a wave of hot salty tears, each wave tossing me turbulently until I simply couldn’t tell which way was up and it was if my whole being shut down, lifelessly limp in the current. “Of course I know what autism means!But then you should know better than to bring him into stores! It’s your own damn fault for subjecting the people to him! Next time keep the freak at home.”

Did you see my son? Did you see when those final words left your mouth and that last syllable washed over his ears and into his tiny little heart? Did you notice him, rocking by the cart, hitting himself over and over repeating “Im not special. Im dumb. Im not special. Im dumb.” Did you even see? Because in that moment, my heart shattered into a million tiny pieces and I simply didn’t have the presence of mind to both minister to my wounded child and simultaneously find words to adequately respond. So I dropped to the floor to bear hug my son and attempt to soothe his restless stimming. You apparently interpreted this as some sort of check in the win column - proof I was the overindulgent parent endlessly catering to the child who wasn’t worthy of participation in mainstream society. You seemed to mentally pat yourself on the back with a little indignant hmph as you turned around and walked away, successfully putting us in our place and winning this battle against these clueless modern parents and their entitled spawn. And as quickly as you had crossed our path, you were gone, disappearing into the jars of pickles and rows of breakfast cereals, probably never to give us another thought.

In hardly more than a moment, you claimed to have examined all of my son and declared him unworthy - unfit for general consumption. You saw all you had needed to see, and you indignantly labeled him as too flawed to be worthy of redemption. You saw only a plague on the upstanding members of this fair society who know how to color properly within the lines, follow instructions, and wait patiently in lines with the others. You decided you knew my son, and you knew his apparent defects clearly outweighed his usefulness, and he belonged out of sight and out of mind where he wouldn’t be a burden on hardworking citizens like yourself.

But sir, you don’t know.

You don’t know that Aidan has the most incredible mind for science. You don’t know that he spends hours exploring ideas like inertia and velocity and how colors are created in the spectrum of light. You don’t know that Aidan passionately poured over books and charts on chemistry for weeks, and ultimately committed most all of the table of elements to perfect memory. You don’t know that he draws charts of the order of the planets, identifies dinosaurs by enormous scientific names, and catalogs nature items in test tubes and jars for future study under his prized microscope.

You don’t know that Aidan has a grasp on logic and engineering that would make even the most adept builders and programmers sit up and take notice. You don’t know that he has already outgrown building legos with the instruction booklets and creates some of the most detailed and perfectly balanced structures and vehicles with whatever pieces he can find on hand. You don’t know that he has already mastered most of the basic concepts of computer programming logic and is hoping to start learning his first programming language this year. You don’t know that Aidan grasps complex math concepts like percentages and fractions and can explain them in ways that even some of his 5 year old peers could start to understand them.

You don’t know that Aidan is one of the coolest 5 year olds on the planet. He has a passionate love for classic rock, placing the anthologies of the Rolling Stones, the Beatles, and the Who as some of his most prized playlist possessions. And don’t even get me started on his love for Queen. You don’t know he has an incredible sense of fashion, boasting quite the collection of vintage styled band tees and skinny jeans, and nobody rocks a beanie or a bowtie like this kid does. You don’t know that he used to idolize our old worship pastor, spending countless afternoons strumming on his guitar trying to be just like Mr. Robb someday. You don’t know that he mastered the art of comedic timing and a quick wit, keeping even the most celebrated minds on their toes with the quips this kid comes up with sometimes.

You don’t know that Aidan has the most compassionate heart of any 5 year old I’ve ever known. You don’t know that he sponsors a child in Uganda, ran his own snack stand at our garage sale last summer giving every cent he made to funding education for kids in Kenya, and that he worries deeply about the homeless and the poor. You don’t know that although Aidan often struggles to correctly interpret what others are feeling without more obvious clues, that the moment he senses someone is feeling hurt or lonely or upset? Aidan’s the first kid to run over and ask if they are ok or if there is something he can do. You don’t know that he’s still just a great big teddy bear, not afraid to spend a whole TV show cuddling his baby brother on the couch or offer his mama unsolicited kisses and I love you’s, even in front of his peers.

You don’t know that Aidan’s love for others is limitless and his propensity for offering forgiveness knows no bounds. You don’t know that when I had the worst day in my parenting life and screamed horribly at my son casting in him his room telling him I couldn’t stand to be around him, that when I went to apologize to him later he looked up from his book before I could say a word and said calmly and sweetly “I forgive you mommy, and Im so sorry I called you a jerk when you were being mad.” You don’t know that even though my sweet boy is still deeply wounded by the horrible words you said, that at bedtime prayers last night he chose to pray for YOU, sir. You don’t know he offered up a sweet sincere prayer that God would give the army man a good day tomorrow, and that he could have Jesus in his heart. You don’t know that my 5 year old son with all his challenges and struggles was hero enough to forgive YOU, a man that should have been his hero but instead broke his tiny heart to pieces.

You don’t know my son. You don’t know what the world would be missing if I didn’t choose to keep subjecting people to him as you put it. I have spent all year teaching my son the truth he is valiantly trying to cling to today: that He is made in God’s perfect image. We have taught our son that our big perfect God is simply so giant, so complex, and so beautifully multifaceted, that it takes a picture of each and every man woman and child on this earth to begin to see a reflection of His perfect being. That being made in His image means that without Aidan, we would miss some facet of Gods character, some immutable truth about His being, that somehow Aidan in his beautiful uniqueness has been chosen to perfectly showcase to us all. Aidan has a responsibility to keep being the amazing little guy God created Him to be, and it’s heart wrenching to me that someone like you would miss out on such beautiful truths and the absolute joy he brings every soul that really takes the time to get to know him.

You’ve probably forgotten about us sir, and there’s a good chance you will never see this letter. But we wont soon be able to forget you or your jaded words. I can only pray that God’s grace abounds and that Aidan be reminded how incredibly special and incredible he really is. And judging by his bold choice to pray for you last night, I am encouraged that God is holding my sweet boy safely in the shelter of his arms, and that somehow He will bring him through this stronger and better for it. We will keep reminding him of who he is, and try daily to undo the damage of your careless words. I pray that God will bring people to surround my sweet son and see him for the beautiful hero he is, facing the world each day with such determination in the face of his challenges and such a joy for each day he’s been given. And most of all I pray that your heart be softened, and that you never again have cause to tear down a child the way you did in that store. I’m hoping I can follow my sons incredible example and find forgiveness for you in my heart enough to wish you well, but I admit he is so much stronger and more compassionate than I am right now. If only we could all be a little bit more like Aidan. I hope someday my son is able to see himself for the truly incredible person he really is.

UPDATE: Want to help outweigh some of the nastiness Aidan is dealing with by participating in a good old fashioned viral campaign for good? Check out this post to see how you can participate in Project Aidan and help this little guy get a taste of just how special he really is.

Crafting Your Legacy Online

by thejoyparade

9 Feb

Navigating the social media age certainly added a whole new dimension to the way we receive and perceive social stigmas.

Don’t have a Facebook page? You live in the stone age.
You do have a Facebook page? Instagram is now where it’s at, Facebook is passé.
Post a selfie? You have a vanity complex.
Never post any photos of yourself? You need help with your self esteem.

And then of course there is the unwritten commandment leveled at all parents with an internet connection: don’t don’t don’t post too much about your children.

From the thinly veiled flogging of the iPhone mom to overtly calling out such supposed taboos as adopting a photo of your kids as your personal profile picture, the message is clear: your online habits are now the new frontier for outsiders judging your parenting. And thanks to the marvelous connectivity of the internet, strangers with no tangible connection to your family or home life now have the unique ability to reach out and render their critiques with lightning fast speed and virtual anonymity. It’s reminiscent of those classic women’s magazine spreads where unknowing pedestrians found themselves featured on the glossy pages with a black bar of shame plastered over their faces and the enormous “DONT” label calling out their crimes.

I’ve often found myself on the receiving end of some of the haplessly lobbed verbal grenades.
“I’ll bet your kids are so sick of having their pictures taken, right?”
“Put the camera down or you’ll miss their whole childhood!”
“How do you find so much time to post online? Aren’t you supposed to be watching your kids?”
“People who post so many updates about their kids online are just embarrassed they don’t have their own life or their own identity outside their kids anymore.”
“Posting a ton on social media is just pure narcism.”
Some are unintentionally pointed or mistakenly worded in haste, others are overt criticisms or outright mean spirited, but all of them hurt, and all of them have had the potential to alter my internet presence and change the way I express myself online.

Maybe it’s because I’m nearing my 30’s, or maybe it’s just God working a new growth in my character, but I’m learning to make a new peace with the naysayers and givers of unsolicited advice. I’m cultivating an understanding that every phrase and image I post online accumulates into my personal autobiography, and I would never allow anyone else to write that story for me. Every time I edit my online voice to serve the critiques of another, I essentially drop my folio into their lap and ask them to take their red pen to my life’s work. I would never surrender the power over to someone else to choose my next haircut or restyle my wardrobe, so why would I allow them to craft my online persona?

The internet is a powerful medium, and with every post we shape our legacy - images and strings of characters coming together to craft a story of us.

Photos of morning cheerios and gap toothed smiles.

Stories of potty training snafus and the little victories in the everyday.

Journals of travels and new experiences.

Testimonies of Gods provision in the unexpected.

Quotes from when the kids really did say the darndest things.

Status Updates chronicling the first date, the first home, the first steps.

If you post what you love and share the things that are meaningful, there simply isn’t any way to be wrong. Don’t give an editors pen to anyone you wouldn’t trust with your life’s work. So go ahead and share another story about that hilarious thing your preschooler just said, and don’t be ashamed to post the umpteenth photo of your baby’s newly tooth endowed grin. Its your story, and only you get to decide whats in it.

No You Can’t Actually Do It All

by thejoyparade

2 Feb

Photo Credit : Desirea Still | Pursuit Conference 2014

My fellow mamas - oh how I need to share my heart with you. God has been laying some truths on my soul, that kind of truths that ruffle feathers and leave you shifting uncomfortably on your seat, but that your heart latches onto and simply wont let you avoid any longer.

I get it ladies: we all want to be the next wonder woman, the poster for super moms everywhere, who are having their cake and baking it from scratch out of organic gluten free ingredients too. Peruse some mommy blogs for a couple hours or a take a virtual stroll around pinterest and you’re bound to get the idea that most of the other moms in this world are not only doing it all, but they are doing it all brilliantly, and looking fantastic while doing it too. Their children are getting their very best, their jobs are somehow also getting their very best, and yet somehow they are also volunteering in their churches and communities, perfectly decorating their homes, hosting amazing parties, and they are keeping themselves fit and well dressed while they do it.

But is any of it true? Have we finally solved the secrets to this elusive virtue of “balance?” Have women just defeated evolution once and for all and found a way to be everything we’ve always wanted?

Or in fact is this one of the biggest cultural myths we’ve continued to perpetuate ultimately because we fear that we really ARE the only ones who are failing? Perhaps we fear that trying to expose the myth may ultimately just expose ourselves as the outsider we really are, and that’s a risk we simply aren’t willing to take?

Who told us that we could do it all? Or more importantly, who told us that we even SHOULD?

If we were truly able to achieve it all, and all on our own, what would draw us outside ourselves into the embrace of community? Isn’t the myth of independence one of the biggest roadblocks to living in community with the people around us? When we believe that not only CAN we do it all on our own, but that we SHOULD, isn’t that the end of “the village” and the beginning of our own isolation? When would we ever have a chance to experience the love of a friend bending down to meet us in our hour of need? When would we feel the intense connection that only comes from walking through a deep valley braced on the shoulders of someone we trust? When we spend our lives as competitors, how can we ever be companions?

Think about it: if the God of the universe, the epitome of total perfection, exists in a triune form - not as a singular being, but as community in and unto himself, three persons in one state of perfect union - why would we ever want to exist outside of community ourselves? Let that set in for a minute, because its a pretty enormous truth, and I know it takes a moment to process. The God who created us in His own perfect image, who embodies perfection and strength and omnipotent power, He exists in a state of COMMUNITY - Father, Son, and Holy Spirit - and forever models for us not confident IN-dependence, but perfect INTER-dependence. For even before the world began, God Himself was never alone, but always existed in a communal state, in perfect harmony as three in one - and it was in this image He created us.

We weren’t created to do it all. We weren’t created to BE it all. We were designed for community. We were designed to strengthen each others weaknesses and brace each other where we fail. And Scripture is absolutely rife with verses pointing us to this truth.

Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him—a threefold cord is not quickly broken. - Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity! - Psalms 133:1

But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another - 1 John 1:7a

And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. - Hebrews 10:24-25

Ladies: lets kill the myth once and for all. We can’t do it all, and we just were never designed to. Im flawed, you’re flawed, and its our beautiful brokenness that His mercy and grace shines through. When you share your weaknesses with us, you give us a chance to be the hands of feet of Jesus and come beside you as a tangible extension of His love in your life. When I share my weaknesses with you, I give you a chance to admit your own flaws and lay down the myths that stand between us and a chance at walking this road together. Let’s all let go of this lie of doing it all, and instead embrace the truth that we were made to do it together

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