Keep Your Nuclear Family Together

The term, “nuclear family,” (NF) is not common vernacular. If, like me, you are a biology major, then you might immediately think of the nucleus of a cell–the most basic, simple structure that controls mammalian life. NF refers to a family with a mother, father, and their biological child(ren).

l first read about NF in psychology textbooks and later in social work textbooks. The term is rarely used or written about outside of academia. It’s becoming increasingly politically incorrect, much like the misnomer, “Indians” has become un-PC to refer to the Native Americans (which can also be a controversial term depending on who you ask).

In my social work profession, which was founded by Christian women who wanted to support orphans, widows, and others deemed vulnerable and helpless in the 1800s American society, the term nuclear family is almost now a taboo topic. I’ve heard people, including colleagues, verbalize this term about zero times in the last decade. This is odd considering how much family dynamics and structure in childhood affect an individual’s functioning and mental health. It seems that my beloved social work profession has gone the political route, veering away from age old truths to pursue noble societal goals such equality and justice.

And here I am, a social worker, daring to write about the importance of keeping the nuclear family together. If you are an adult who grew up in a nonNF structure and have only wonderful memories of your childhood, then I’m happy for you. If you are a parent raising kid(s) in an alternative family structure, I am not judging you. Frankly, at times I find it more than difficult to work at my own marriage and parenting. Another factor that keeps me from judging is that most parents I have the privilege to counsel are no longer married and raising just their biological kids. I am grateful for their trust, vulnerability, and courage to seek help to improve their lives. I am not holier than they or thou.

The majority of my clients fall into the nonNF category: grandparents, kin, single moms or dads, stepparents or unmarried parents raising kids who are biologicals, half, step, or blended. I meet these primary caregivers where they are at and with professional training and education, encourage them to be the role models that will inspire their children to be the best they were created to be. Oftentimes, I bring my own shortcomings, trials and experiences with dysfunctional families, to empathize with and encourage these brave men and women.

If you are a foster or adoptive parent, single or in a committed relationship, hats off to you. Your work is very important and necessary in our fallen world full of brokenness. We need not look further than our neighborhoods to know of kids who’ve lost both sets of biological parents (whether due to death or other reasons). Your attempt to provide unconditional love, safety, nurture, and guidance to the young will be met with much distrust, resistance, and obstacles. And yet, it is so needed in our society today. Keep improving your game and don’t give up hope!

Honestly, when I’m dealing with my own nuclear family, sometimes I imagine the joy, freedom, and peacefulness of not having to do this constant hard work. The singleness of the apostle Paul appears to me an enticing pleasure. The unfettered yoke of single parenting appeals to forbidden desires. The empty nester couples become a guilty secret dream. Then my clients bring me back to reality each day at the counseling office. The sadness, anguish, and complexity of problems that come with being or raising a child who has trust issues, anxiety, depression, and other behavioral problems stop me in my daydreaming.

If working with diverse clients with serious needs does not keep me sane, then venting with friends who are inspirational wives and mothers keep me motivated to stay on track. Either that, or the words of my wise 80+ y.o. mentor slap me out of any naive delusions: And what would you be doing if you were not doing this work? In other words, if I give up on role modeling “keeping it together” and allow myself to fall apart, even temporarily, what would be the consequences?

Too much thinking. Too much realism. Too much escape to fantasy.

You don’t need to write a book about parenting to know the research: Compared to single parenting, kids raised in two-parent families fare better in multiple categories of functioning. Furthermore, compared to unmarried or nonbiological parents, kids raised in nuclear family structures fare the best overall. No one is judging the kid or the adult as inferior or superior, more worthy or less worthy. We are discussing statistics on the reality of human beings and human societies.

So I will keep striving to improve the marital bond I find myself in no matter what challenges come our way. Through my role as a wife, I hope to teach our sons the kind of strength, dignity, and grace they can expect to find in a future spouse. Hopefully by my example, they can learn how an imperfect husband is to be treated in marriage. In our mutual brokenness, we lean on the Almighty for more patience, gentleness, and wisdom to co-parent the kids He has given us.

Furthermore, I will keep trying to improve my parenting skills. When I feel like giving up, I will lean on my faith in reality, in the God of creation, in the sovereign One who allowed a fallen human world. I will remind myself that God redeems us, forgives us, and gives us strength each day to still hope and believe in a better tomorrow. In the hard times, I will see the kids as gifts from above, a blessing in disguise, or at the very least— the thorns on my side that keep me humble, ever closer to God. In the good times, I will praise Him from whom all blessings flow. I will lean not on my own understanding, but in all my ways and scholarly learning, acknowledge Him. So help me God.

What are your thoughts about the importance of keeping the nuclear family structure? Do you believe that it is progressive or regressive to promote its prevalence?

10 Ways to Choose People Over Politics

This new year, why not give yourself the gift of peaceful relationships? Choosing people over politics requires some mental and emotional energy, as it is rarely achieved by merely avoiding conflicts or people that make us feel uncomfortable. Rather, we must be prepared to move a little out of our comfort zone because peaceful relationships involve engaging in more dialogue, less debates. More fellowship over meals, less marching against each other. More giving the benefit of the doubt, less distrust and hostility. More humility and vulnerability, less assumptions and guardedness.

Here are 10 practical ways you can choose people over politics:

1) Read articles from sources that are opposite from your political orientation. There’s a world of knowledge, information, and experiences out there. If we don’t intentionally seek to educate ourselves with various perspectives, not always based on skin color or sexual orientation, then we have less to relate to, fewer to connect with.

2) Join a variety of groups to increase cultural awareness and knowledge of other ways of living and thinking. Multiculturalism is a value to be actively pursued. After all, humans come in diverse ethnicities, nationalities, cultures, passions and persuasions (diversity of thought), etc… Generally, different groups have different sets of experiences. 

3) Intentionally reach out to people you don’t normally agree with. Without a plan to connect to different people groups, plan on the same old same old. We resort to bubble living and insular thinking, leading to an “us against them” mentality. Those on the “left” can be extremely judgmental of those on the “right” and vice versa, those on the right may be just as judgmental of those on the left. Politicians need conflict to rally up voters and supporters. The rest of us are best served by keeping ourselves down to Earth and relatable with our neighbors and fellow countrymen.

4) Cultivate more individual relationships to increase intimacy and authenticity. In group settings, people tend to be more guarded, more performance oriented. Also, within a given group, there can be a diversity of perspectives so without personal, authentic connections, we miss the finer points of each unique person.

5) Do more face to face interactions, fewer virtual relationships. With in-person relationships, we see humanity–tone, facial expressions, body language. We can be more compassionate and forgiving in person when we sense another person’s feelings or spirit, which is difficult to grasp on a screen or in print. Individually and privately, people can be more honest and vulnerable, which enables more genuine connection.

6) Listen more, speak and write less. This is especially true for authors or bloggers–we have double work ahead of us. Remember that people want to be heard, too, not just to be taught. Though we may belong to different groups as a way to feel connected to the larger society, we are unique individuals with nuanced thoughts and beliefs.

7) Stick to personal experiences, feelings, and thoughts–avoid sermons or lectures. Assume that the other person is equally intelligent, equally good, and equally virtuous with you. No need to talk down to anyone.

8) Ask questions to get to know the other person better. Asking helps us to make fewer assumptions about people. Assumptions lead to misunderstandings, perpetuating unhelpful stereotypes and disconnection. People love to talk about themselves. We want to make sense, have credibility, which allows us to be accepted, even respected.

9) Remind yourself that there’s always more to learn. Every day you can learn something new. My father modeled humility for me by being willing to learn from his kids. People are multifaceted and marvelous mysteries. Adults can harness the wisdom occasionally exhibited by children, while children can sometimes relate the wounded child inside each adult.

10) Think of the other person as a brother or sister from another parent. After all, we are family. We belong to the human race and we share a small world. We have much more in common than we have differences. As the yin yang symbol clearly details, there’s a little black inside white, and a little white inside black. And of course, in the circle of life, there are all shades of gray.

Reference: Pixabay

Politics is based on drawing distinctions, lines, boundaries, laws, which are all good for the flourishing of the collective human society. Sometimes, politics require making the prudent choices to protect one’s society from destruction or destabilization.

Choosing people over politics means to cultivate more horizontal relationships while acknowledging that certain vertical relationships are necessary and important for human society. The trick is to maintain the proper balance of vertical relationships with horizontal ones.

If you are a Christian, it means seeing nonChristians as potential believers by the grace and mercy of God shining through you. It also means seeing the divine in unexpected people and places.

If you are an atheist or agnostic, it means seeing religious folks, though fallible and sometimes uninspiring, as possibly possessing some truth that you might be currently missing.

If you are a political liberal or progressive, it means seeing conservatives as interesting people whose brains you can pick, whose hearts you can mine.

If you are a political conservative, it means seeing liberals as interesting people whose brains you can pick, whose hearts you can mine.

Oops, did I just repeat myself? Two sides of the same coin. Peace, people.

You Made the World’s Okayest Mom, Too?

Well, congratulations!! Give yourself a pat on the back, Momma! You are doing something right to just be okay!

Mothering is hard. It’s the journey that seems to be full of scary, steep mountains when the kids are little. From the round the clock physical care of our precious, fragile baby, to 24/7 supervision of our rambunctious toddler’s well being, to the constant concern for the kindergartener’s social, emotional, and spiritual development, mothering appears to be a nonstop responsibility that never ends.

Then older moms tell us, “Wait until the kids get older. Instead of taking a physical toll on you, they’ll take an emotional toll.” Sure enough, at the primary education stage, the kids don’t need as much physical care or supervision, and moms everywhere find ourselves enjoying sending our kids off to school.  They are growing up so fast, sniff, sniff. Although the mountains don’t appear as often or as steep at this stage, moms have to watch for cliffs and boobie traps. Toddler meltdowns turn to periodic emotional outbursts. Cries from a fall become wails of injustice! Quiet compliance give way to complaints of unfairness and sorrows. The kids are growing up too fast but at times not fast enough!

Moms are all too happy to enroll our kids in all kinds of after school programs and weekend sporting events at this stage. The ruse is that these extracurricular activities serve to nurture their social skills, athletic prowess, or stimulate intellectual growth, yada, yada, yada. But everyone knows it’s really because our fragile, precious hearts need a break from all the complaints, the criticisms, the screaming and crying.

But then small, lanky middle schoolers become towering, adult appearing teens. Moms start to realize that some things are just not going to be perfect. Our visions of running this race to win become more of a mixed bag of “I don’t want it to be over so soon” and “Are they finally graduating for sure?!” In fact, there are no more bright eyed visions at this stage. We are jaded, spent, drained, barely surviving and wondering how anyone with two or more kids can manage to thrive?

Sure, the kids are doing well academically. They have a clean record, avoid drugs, and to the best of your knowledge, any incriminating acts. They even have friends and are learning how to drive a car. But their clothes still stink. Their bedrooms aren’t any better. They don’t eat healthy or get enough sleep, in your humble opinion. They start projects that don’t seem to ever finish. They have mood swings that make you feel this valley is endlessly deep. And you are not good enough for them. You can’t solve all their problems. In fact, you just won’t understand. And you’re not cool enough to be in a picture with them. Where is that lovely mountain you have to look forward to?

Can you see why moms sleep in late some mornings? Who cares if we send little ones to school in mismatched outfits, or heaven forbid day-old clothes? It’s not like you’ve never heard moms scream, “I don’t care! You can go live with the Jones, then!” Who’s going to judge if we say a cuss word or two, drink a little too much wine, hang out with the ladies too much? We are the world’s most okayest moms, and that’s that.

Adjectives like “extraordinary,” “exceptional,” and “amazing” are great, but rarely used to describe moms, at least not by her family members when she’s still alive. Unless they are public figures. And when these overrated descriptions are used, everyone knows there’s always a catch. Watch for the other shoe to fall. Watch for her humanity to be revealed in a tell all book. Maybe Netflix will do a documentary of her interesting behind the scenes life fifty years later.

So the rest of us just say, “No thanks. I’d rather keep my world’s okayest mom status.”

My friend, Tina, recently posted on her Facebook this picture of a new t-shirt she found. She captioned it, “Doing my best to be an okay mom. I saw this shirt at the nutcracker market and needless to say it was sold out, so many moms wanted it. It was a great laugh for all of us.” Do you want this t-shirt too, sweet Momma?

 

Got Teens?!

When my boys were still in elementary school, I remember hearing older parents say that “girls are easier to raise when they’re young but harder when they get to high school. Boys are just the opposite– harder at first but much easier to parent as teens compared to girls.” They were referring to female wiles, tears, mood swings, and relationship drama.

Of course these are generalizations and there are always moms who feel differently. Take me, for instance. I thought, little boys are difficult to parent? What are they talking about? My boys are fun, intelligent, loveable, and loving! I often went to bed a happy, confident mom. Hands down, I found other aspects of life and other relationships more stressful and aggravating than mothering sons. Rambunctious, active, and mischievous they may have been, but still the young boys were no match for this clinician mom’s therapeutic parenting skills.

As I go into more details in my memoir/self-help book, these tried and true interventions include attachment parenting, Love and Logic, the Nurtured Heart Approach, nondirective play therapy skills, parent child interactive therapy skills, and 123 Magic, among others. It probably helped me as a young, perfectionist mother to have all the books and training in my professional work with clients be relevant to raising my own kids. Though the children did not present with special needs, such as attachment issues, developmental delays, medical needs, ADHD, or other mental illness, I still found the therapeutic approaches to be very helpful to raising the boys from infancy.

Come teenage years and the road became riddled with unexpected, intense emotions that burst like boobie traps. Then there’s the relationship drama like the darkness filled the air. Rebellious, disrespectful attitudes pepper-sprayed with limit testing and other unpredictable events filled this part of the journey. Nothing from my parenting toolbox seemed to work. It seems that as the kids gain their confidence and voice, you start to lose yours! Either it’s the hormones, the cortisol brain that looks like it’s on drugs, or if you’re me, it might very well be the notion that I had jinxed myself by writing a best practices book on parenting when I was not quite out of the woods yet! Really, how did my journey become so backwards compared to other moms? Where did I go wrong? I’m going to re-read my book again to get this parenting thing straight!   

I’m not suggesting that my happy, mannerable, smart boys have turned the opposite as they’ve matured. No, their dad and I still feel blessed to be their parents. But the day to day feelings that parents go through while raising teenagers, girls or boys, if they haven’t hit you during the children’s preadolescent years will hit you later. It finally caught up with me while I was writing my book, and overtook me just after I published it. I’m still clearing my way out of the ambush as I write this piece. It’s possible that the journey became rougher because I became more sensitive to my adolescent and my teen’s every remark, criticism, or unhappiness. Cue the sleep deprivation, doubts, anguish, paranoia, fears, etc…

What about you? Do you find yourself struggling with daily frustrations, doubts, or worry? Are you in one power struggle after another, one drama after another with your teen? Do you wonder if you’re really equipped to do this hard job? Maybe for the first time, you are considering therapy or medications for your precious child–who doesn’t need some extra support? And the toughest question you might have entertained, in my opinion: how did I screw up so badly?   

Well, join the club! Chances are, if you are asking these vulnerable, raw questions now, you are a conscientious parent on the right path. At least that’s what we can comfort ourselves with. While we journey together through this thick part of the forest, let’s encourage one another. Let’s cheer each other on, share helpful tips learned through the school of hard knocks. Let us judge less, compare less, shame and guilt trip less often, whether to ourselves or to our fellow sojourner parents.

And see ya on the other side! I hear that it gets better!

We Are Worlds Apart

We are worlds apart, my fellow human being, though we share the same nationality.

We are worlds apart, my fellow American, though we live in the same part of the country.

We are worlds apart, my coworker, though we work for the same company doing basically the same things.

We are worlds apart, my neighbor, though we walk the same sidewalks, and our kids play on the same sports teams.

We seem to be worlds apart, my fellow believer, though we meet regularly at the same church.

We seem worlds apart, my brother, though we imitate each other’s mannerisms and dress and style.

We seem worlds apart, my sister, though we talk and share and share and talk.

We seem worlds apart,

maybe because we come from different families, have different childhood experiences, grew up gaining different perspectives, adhere to different belief systems, interpret the world in different ways, pray or refuse to pray to a different God, love different people, associate with different people groups, embrace different causes, use different terminology, read different news articles, base from different premises, make different assumptions, access different generalizations, or desire different goals?

Oh when oh when, my friend, will our worlds merge? And how will this happen? Please tell, do you desire to reach me, to understand me, to care for me? Oh do share, do you feel the same way? Do you think about these things? In your silence and reticence, are you being defensive or do you fear being offensive? Or is it just plain apathy, hatred, and jealousy like they say about you?

Oh how oh how, my sister, will our worlds overlap? Will you need me to change in order to put down your defenses? Are you waiting for me to be trustworthy first before you trust? And how many moves is enough? And can I trust you if I were to lay down my arms first? How much more must I reveal for you to move closer toward me?

Or shall we continue to live side by side, taking step by step, as if we are in the same world, but really not.

We are worlds apart, my love, but still sitting next to each other, breathing the same air.

#BestofBothWorlds #EastMeetsWestparentingbook #BestofAllWorlds

Want To Be A Bridge?

If you want to be a bridge, be prepared to be stepped on by people on both sides.

Be prepared that some will not notice the bridge.

Be prepared that some may notice the bridge but not think twice of its value or function.

Be prepared that some may resent or feel threatened by the presence of a bridge.

Be prepared that some may regret having crossed the bridge.

Be prepared that some, having crossed over, may still choose to return to their side and never cross again.

Be prepared that some, having crossed and been enlightened may not have been mindful of the experience for quite a long time.

Be prepared that most who cross enjoy the experience, but forget to acknowledge the bridge that allowed that.

Be prepared that some will take you for granted, and never utter a word of appreciation.

Be prepared to be stepped on over and over by different individuals and people groups.

Be prepared to get stronger with each step taken.

Be prepared.

Be a bridge.

If you are not called to be a bridge, then find one to support.

If you can’t be a pillar of support, then financially support the building and maintaining of bridges.

Better yet, try crossing over a few bridges–that’s why they exist.

If you are not called to cross over, then acknowledge the usefulness of the bridge for others.

If you cannot acknowledge, then don’t hinder others’ use of the bridge.

Remember that where you stand today is most likely due to your ancestors having crossed a bridge or two.

So, lay down your arms, lower the walls of defense, and peek out into the world a little more.

It takes multiple brave steps to connect different sides of humanity to each other.

Join us today.

East Meets West in the Classroom

I recently had a chance to reconnect with my high school English and History teachers. They have been teaching at Polytechnic School in Pasadena for over 30 years! It was nice to hear from them what I was like when I was younger. I also got the chance to talk with the Admissions Director, who in 1987, had admitted me to the freshman class at this college preparatory private school. Mrs. Rodriguez is now retired but came back to campus to visit with me and the teachers.

It was surreal. The upper school campus was beautiful, even with its renovated buildings and new state of the art additions. The conversations were even more memorable. After getting caught up on my adventures since leaving Poly, and learning about my new memoir/self-help book, Mrs. Rodriquez asked me, “If you had to do it all over again, would you still have wanted to attend Poly?” She asked me this question because she knew that I was on full scholarship to attend this prestigious school. Without the scholarship, I would not belong. I confessed that even though I had made friends at the private school, it was difficult because I felt like a fish out of water. At the time, I was not able to offer any evaluation of perspectives, or understanding, other than what it was like to be in my shoes. And even in that I was not able to articulate anything comprehensible.

Maybe that explains Mr. Caragher’s memory of me as being an excellent student but “really quiet” in his history class. My English teacher, who now has two grown kids and wants to be called Grace, said I was a good writer–thank you for all that you taught me! And both remembered that I had “beautiful penmanship.” That memory surprised me a bit because all I see now is handwriting that looks like chicken scratch. I don’t know what happened. Mr. Caragher, who is a father of two, said that maybe that’s due to my becoming a mother of three kids. Insert tearful, smiling emoji.

Before affirmative action was a real policy, there was Mrs. Rodriguez. Because of her heart of compassion, the private school in Southern California that had never known a Vietnamese refugee, let one such student in fresh off the boat. We were boat people, sponsored by a Lutheran church to immigrate to America in 1979, just when I was starting first grade. Less than ten years later, all the children had become naturalized US citizens, along with our parents. And I was academically competitive enough to be admitted to this college preparatory school for privileged kids. Luckily, the school was well endowed with financial aid and scholarships donated by generous citizens, who remain anonymous to me to this day.

Yes, I told Mrs. Rodriguez. I would do it all over again. Although the experience opened my eyes a little too fast too soon, the cognitive dissonance helped me to become who I am today. Not only have I been blessed with an excellent education taught by caring, compassionate teachers, but I’m grateful to have partaken in so many activities that others could only dream of. From out of state class field trips, kayaking, canoeing, and white-water rafting, to being a summer exchange student to a European country, where I learned how to swim, each experience raised a level of consciousness and deepened a level of compassion that contributed to my thoughtful self today.  And to top it off, many years later, I got to share about my journeys to the history class students, while Ms. Rodriguez, Grace, and Mr. Caragher listened and asked questions.

I am okay. I can come out of my shell. I’ve made peace and reconnected with my high school friends. I can integrate East and West to share my story. And you can do the same. With time, our trials give us greater perspectives. Just don’t give up. You are not alone. Stay in touch. Our connections are what make life meaningful.

 

 

 

Overcoming Compassion Fatigue

Well, it’s been almost 4 weeks since Hurricane Harvey struck Texas, 2 weeks since Irma visited Florida, followed by lots of bad news around the world about deaths and destruction caused by flooding, earthquakes, and terrorist acts/war in other countries.

For my fellow Americans, our news outlets are stressing us out with story after story of ongoing political tensions and protests, whether the issue is about immigration, ethnicity/race, or religious freedom.

Then if you are a parent, you’ve no doubt had to deal with children’s needs in the form of meltdowns by young children or anger/depression by older ones. And if you are a fellow therapist, there’s always a need to watch for “burn out.”

Compassion fatigue is a term for the condition of being physically or emotionally exhausted due to feeling compassion for fellow human beings. Mental health counselors, social workers, first responders, and others in the helping profession tend to struggle with this.

 

When tragedy strikes, like a 9/11 or earthquake or flood, people’s initial reaction is usually that of compassion for the victims. We care about our neighbors and fellow Americans. The interconnectedness of this global world through immigration, travel, and social media also allows us to also care for our fellow human beings who suffer around around the world.

The initial pang of sympathy and empathy is often followed by high energy motivation to get involved and make a difference. Whether we are motivated by survivor’s guilt or genuine empathy, people are often quick to help out initially. We want to show that we are quality human beings who care. We want to reach out and touch someone in the shared bond of brotherhood and sisterhood. We want to go out and save someone’s life, donate our precious goods, or just encourage someone who has lost so much. It’s the right thing to do and the blessed thing to do.

However, two weeks after Hurricane Harvey made national and international headlines, the out of town journalists left, the videocameras stopped rolling, and the local flood survivors returned back to work. Things started to settle down. And as is typical for post crisis sitations, the initial surge of warm feelings and altruistic thoughts and behaviors give way to pessimism, cynicism, and exhaustion as the needs prolong but the responsibilies have not lessened.

I, along with other residents who were not directly affected by this tragic event, also resumed work and daily routines. However, it was impossible to ignore the humungous, incredible pile of destruction left on the sides of the roads. After a couple of days and weeks, both our energy and rainy day funds seem to be spent. We are physically tired from helping, emotionally drained from empathizing, and financially broke from giving so much.

We don’t want to hear of any more tragedies. We just want to turn off the news or watch something upbeat for once. We want a feel good story to take us away from all the grief and loss. We just want to escape to a different reality–one filled with no suffering, no responsibilities, only joy, love, and peace. On a beautiful remote island, preferably.

That is compassion fatigue. It’s when we’ve had enough of connecting with another’s suffering. We are through with all the selfless helping. Everyone seems to have a need, including our spouse and kids, not just the clients or the victims of natural disasters. We get tired and drained. We want to get back to normal life, whatever that means we don’t even know anymore. We are just done feeling. Spent. Finished.

Anyone who has experienced compassion fatigue can take comfort–it’s the ultimate sign that we are human. We are not God, or superheroes. We feel and think and care deeply. But a tender heart can easily break. We must guard our fragile hearts from hardening. As Proverbs 4:23 advises, “watch over your heart with all diligence, for from it flows the springs of life.”

 

Compassion fatigue is our body’s natural way to instinctively protect itself. It is okay to turn off the sights and sounds, turn away from the stressors, and breathe. Focus on one day at a time, one step at a time, and one person at a time, starting with taking care of ourselves first. Let’s practice self care, like what the helping professionals have to do in order to avoid burn out. It is not selfish, but rather natural, realistic, and quite progressive.

We can use humor to protect our tender hearts. Everyone can relate to good ol’ self deprecating humor. It is not only good for the body, but great for the soul as well. It helps us to connect to each other, bring down the walls of demographic divisions, so that we are one family, one human race. We do our best, and sometimes we don’t do our best. But as humans, we all struggle in one way or another.

Houstonians posted some funny memes on social media as a way to cope. Enjoy these:

FB: Mark Linabury

 

FB: Jared Hammonds

 

For more laughs, check out this amazing compilation of Harvey humor
.

Survivor’s Guilt: Questions & Answers

It looks like someone else beat me to the punch! Actually, she beat my friend and fellow therapist, Cindy Hammonds, LPC, who had just yesterday volunteered to help me write about survivor’s guilt. I was going to also blog about compassion fatigue in the midst of Hurricane Harvey relief efforts.

Well, y’all, I’m grateful that this fellow mom wrote an excellent, funny, very readable piece on such an important topic. She even shared my sentiment that many parents struggle when their young kids go stir crazy cooped up at home without a daily routine.

But, I’m not grateful that I she outdid me. That’s just it–another mom is more articulate with expressing herself, more generous at donating, more humorous with writing, faster with helping, on and on… She outmaneuvered me, my amazing friend Cindy, and you.

That is part of survivor’s guilt.

We compare ourselves to each other constantly even though we try not to. With other survivors, we wonder why we don’t seem to be coping as well or doing as much as they seem to be. With flood victims, we want to empathize and sympathize even though deep down inside, we feel guilty about caring for ourselves more. Maybe all our efforts to give and care are really just to alleviate the inner tensions we feel inside? But we’re getting tired of the frenzy and the constant nagging questions: Am I doing enough? And if we take a break from volunteering or if we watch our budget conservatively: Am I really selfish? 

Then there are the unsettling feelings and thoughts:

Please don’t judge me 😱😩🙏. Try to understand 🙏🙏. Put yourself in my shoes. Yeah, yeah, I know they are dry but they’re not comfortable. They don’t feel like I’m wearing my own shoes anymore.

We reach out to others who also survived the storm seemingly untouched. All of us in this unreal, unsinking ship have this unusually strong need to be reassured that we’re okay not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. We feel the need to talk to others to process our mixed, fragile emotions inside. We (it’s actually we, isn’t it, Cindy?) are not that uncaring, just numb. We want to crack a joke to break the tensions but deathly afraid that that would be insensitive or inappropriate.

We feel fortunate to be alive, to be untouched by the destruction that has broadsided so many friends and family. But we’re also tired of living in survival mode. We want to get back to our former life, the one where we were thriving at (or at least working on that). These desires lie underneath as we stare at the heap of rubbles that was our neighbor’s house and possessions. How will they really rebuild from scratch? And is it wrong to feel relieved that our precious belongings are intact?

And why can’t we go on already, you know–watch our TV shows, have the socials, simulate normalcy for our kids, and just go about our usual business again, as if this nightmare called Harvey never happened?

But now that we’ve seen how Harvey has devastated your life, we wonder if maybe our lives should stop, too, just to be lovingly even with you. Perhaps that’s the best way to show you that we care and we really do feel so sad inside. Where is that reset button?

Major devastations/trauma or deep loss often precipitate a spiritual attack on people. If we resisted religion before, in our grief, we become faith oriented, seeking a Higher Power and a deeper meaning. If we already attended church religiously, we find ourselves asking God a lot of questions: How did my home get spared but my sweet neighbor’s didn’t? And for those of us who were flooded but did not die: Why was my life spared but not my fellow neighbor’s? Why must this hurricane be so unfair to others and so merciful to me?

The answers may just be too cruelly raw, too sinfully gracious. So we help some more, cry some more, give some more until our guilt is washed and cleaned, like the flood never came. But it can never be, can it? Hello? Anyone else feel this way besides me and my friend? Surely you feel it, too? Guilty for surviving.

Maybe that’s what the Pastor meant when he said that everything is even at the cross. Be still and know…

So after praying, I put my counselor hat on, draw from the last twenty years of being in the helping profession listening to diverse people share intimately about their grief and losses, and I know that there is no competition. There is no judgment that matters but God’s. There is no guilt that has not been washed by Jesus’ blood. That woman who wrote that viral article did not beat me to the punch. She cannot speak entirely for my friend Cindy either, or for you.

Everyone has a story to tell. Everyone has feelings and thoughts that are valid and meaningful. Each person is unique, not crazy. We all deserved to be heard and we each have a voice. We each can make a difference, large or small, now or later, as we survive natural disasters and personal losses. We can each do our part to work together, whether we share publically or keep things private. We can thrive, make sense, and pull through the flood water and dry rubbles to higher ground.

Care to share your version of survival guilt? Stay tuned next week as I share Cindy’s writings, and my thoughts on survivor guilt’s sister emotion–compassion fatigue.

#gratefulbutnotgrateful #finebutnotfine #survivorsguilt

#Harvey

 

Newsflash: the Bible will hurt your feelings

TheoThoughts

Photo credit: mcaonline.org

The internet has been abuzz the last few days over the Nashville Statement, delivered from a joint conference between the Center for Biblical Manhood and Womanhood and the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission.  The statement succinctly lays out a case for the sexual ethics expressed in Scripture and believed by the church since the dawn of it’s inception.

Given the contemporary mood regarding sexual identity and orientation, it’s no surprise that vitriol against the statement has splattered all over the internet in repudiation of what the statement expresses. No surprise either from those in the progressive camp that claim both Christianity and endorsement of homosexuality and transgenderism (as if the two can co-exist), a renouncement with the claim that the statement does harm to the LGBTQ community. What’s a bit more surprising is the pushback from those who for the most part affirm what the statement…

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