Desert bars and ties

There was a Christmas party at our gym last night: We took the twins with us who were excited to get dressed up. I ran into a pickleball comrade and she says to the boys “oh you’re so handsome all dressed up....I think there’s some girls over there who may be interested in you”

Darby replies:

“I think there’s a dessert bar over there I’m interested in”

Now I know I’ve raised him right

The "worst" Christmas gift I ever got

It was Christmas 1999, I was 22 years old with a 9 month old Zoe. I worked nights ,waiting tables, sporting a fashionable blue apron smock dress at the clover bar dive in grand haven Michigan . My then husband, who id met just a few years prior after selling him and his friends acid at a “peace” festival in Lowell Michigan , was still pretty heavy into the drug thing. We had just returned from a few years of phish tour, snowboarding for a season In Colorado and then living in a green 1969 converted schoolbus.

We went from chaos to a rented duplex and a baby trying to figure out how Christmas was supposed to work for normal people.

On Christmas Eve, John decided he would get me a Christmas gift, and so he went to meijers late at night to figure something out. The next morning there were at least 12 wrapped boxes for me sitting under the tree.

When I opened the first box it was a small ceramic statue of two people walking with winter gear on. I thought “ okay,” that’s a weird gift but it’s okay, there’s still 11 more to open! When I opened the next one....it was another statue of people doing some other winter activity. After I opened my third gift and found it to be a small Swiss village type house, I realized what was happening. And dread fell over me . Yes, I received an entire winter village from my local grocery store that Christmas.

As a snotty and selfish 22 year old, I was pretty disappointed. Johns mom had a winter village in his home as a kid. So, for him, this is what normal was on Christmas and he was trying to give me something his mom always loved. At 22, I wasn’t ready yet to be that normal. I returned the entire village.

Last year, after my grandpa died, my grandma wanted to get rid of my grandpas 50 year train collection . We took some village and ceramic winter pieces and stuffed them in a box. This year, I bought that white snowy batting and set it up.

And yesterday, I was at ....can you guess where?? Yes, Meijers of all places, searching for some village pieces to add to the collection. I’d wished I had those 12 pieces from 20 years ago!! I think I’ve finally arrived at the stage in my life where I can appreciate a good winter village at Christmas. So sorry to Jonathan LaMaire that I never appreciated the gift 🎁. I realize , this season at 42, what a great gift it actually was!!

And meijers doesn’t even sell those winter village pieces anymore 😞 , I wished I’d kept it!!!

Salted with Fire

Heres a touchy subject we don't like to discuss much. I'm reading through the gospel of Mark the last few days....as much as we don't like to talk about hell , and we evangelize in complete discomfort that the topic would come up...Jesus talks alot about it. He talks more about hell, and more vividly, then he does about Heaven. Now, I'm not advocating you go around to your neighbors and friends and complete strangers and tell them all they're going to hell, please don't do that. I know people do that, I've heard it from others who've experienced it, and Ive always recoiled as I hear their stories. So I'm included this group of Christians who feel uncomfortable with the evangelism of preaching hell myself. But I can't avoid the reality that Jesus talks about it.....ALOT.

So I come across Mark 42, the temptations to sin , theres alot of talk about hell and he vividly describes it as a place where the "fire is not quenched and the worm never dies". On a side bar, he uses the word Gehenna to describe hell which some scholars say was an actual place of refuse in Israel (what the people considered trash). It supposedly was used for household garbage, corpses of criminals, and its even said that some kings of Judah would sacrifice their children there to foreign gods. It was a place known to have a continually burning fire and maggots....so its a good metaphor of a real place they understood in describing a spiritual place of eternal torment and separation from God. You can study up on it if youre interested. The strange quote Jesus uses is actually speaking directly of what the prophet Isaiah prophesied almost 800 years earlier in the very last book of Isaiah (66:24)

Anyways, this "fire is not quenched" was really standing out to me...then I get to what follows "For everyone will be salted with fire" (Mark 42:49)

And we know that salt is good for the believer! Its a preservative, and the gospels speak alot about salt. we're called to be salt and light. (Matthew 5:13-16)

So we're salted with fire?! So I'm really meditating on this line because I think its brilliant actually. How do we get this salt that we're called to have and be? How are we salty? (btw- did you know the word for salary comes from the word salt?) Have you heard the term "worth their salt"? salt was valuable is ancient days, and was actually used as currency. But we get "salted with fire"...and hell is full of "unquenchable fire".

So I do think that all of us, and it IS a blessing, experience a salting of hell...trials, tribulations, persecutions, effects of our sin, discipline from God. We are "salted with fire"...we are sprinkled with the refining fire of hell. But why? I think thats where our salt comes from, experiencing the salting of fire from hell while we're alive on this earth. We escape the unquenchable fire, the salt preserves us. It gives us a taste of the pain of hell and a reason to hope for a future where it doesn't exist., and its what draws us to the mercy and comfort and peace of Gods forgiveness.

"But if salt has lost its saltiness, how will you make it salty again" -Jesus

Perhaps this is why we face continual persecution when we become believers. We need the persecution, the reminder of what we're ultimately being saved from eternally...that feeling of being salted with fire. Its temporary...it lasts while we're walking the earth in this lifetime. But it doesn't carry over to eternity. It preserves us UNTIL eternity and God calls us home.

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21:4

So thank God for the pain and persecution and discipline while you're alive on this earth. Its good for us...it keeps us salty. Its not forever. Now, the "unquenchable fire" of hell....thats forever. So work out your salvation with fear and trembling, and make peace with God today. "Yield now and be at peace with Him; Thereby good will come to you."- Job 22:21

elf on the shelf

I knew two years ago I was at the end of my rope with this elf on the shelf when I put him in the blender one night after my twins went to bed. I stood there really contemplating hard about just turning it on and ending the misery of having to come up with a new inventive scheme almost every night after four Christmas seasons in a row. I was out of elf scheming ideas and this looked like an opportunity to be out of the lie. I didn't kill the elf that night. But, a year later, and on Christmas day after opening present, I exposed the entire operation to my twins; all those fabricated components of Christmas. I couldn't handle the burden of keeping up the charade any longer. It felt really good.

There was some fallout though ...Miles asked how he could trust me with anything now knowing I'd lied all these years...what about Jesus?...perhaps I was also lying about Him too. I'm glad he asked those questions; and here's why:

I don't want any of my kids faith to be predicated on my faith. Don't believe it just because I told you it...learn it for yourself.

"Let Gods word be true and every man a liar" Romans 3:4....that includes me! I'm included in "every man"

Test the evidence for yourself and make your own conclusion.

Have you ever asked someone how they came to believe in Jesus and they said "I was just raised that way, so Ive always believed it". I don't ever want that to be my kids testimony. I pray they have a moment where they come to faith on their own after intense scrutiny and questioning. I find that people who don't test the evidence on their own and just rely on the people around them tend to have weaker faith than the ones who question and doubt the claims of the church until the light goes on with the prompting and guidance of the Holy Spirit.

So I'm glad my kids see me for who I am...a fraud who concocted a series of magical elf and Santa scenarios. And I'm also glad I don't have to continue with the ruse :) And now, I'm even more excited to see how God will present Himself to my kids and draw them to faith outside of me...true and real and lasting faith. I don't believe He has moments where he wants to put us in a blender and liquify us...His patience and mercy is much greater than mine. So, cheers this Christmas season to the beauty of a real and authentic Christmas in celebrating the birth of Christ! And cheers to me as a parent from my newfound freedom from the elf!!!

Brotherly love

I was in the bathroom downstairs when Cooper started yelling for me from upstairs. Darby was at the bottom of the steps so he mustered up his best impression of my voice to answer Cooper...for some reason in his version of me I have a southern drawl and a whispery antabellum voice. “Yes Cooper?”...”you know Cooper you’re my least favorite son...I like Darby the best, then Miles. I think you’re kind of an idiot. I really wish I’d never had you”

So much for brotherly love, smh.

Civil infractions

So I'm at the court house to fight this speeding ticket today. My court time listed is at 2:15 in courtroom 1B. The clerks tell me to sit in the hallway outside the courtroom and wait until 2:15 to go in. I navigate down the hallway, and right outside courtroom 1B, there's an entire wedding party congregating. There must have been at least 15 or 16 people/family members there to celebrate this older couples wedding.

They were all taking turns taking pictures of each other and I gathered the wedding had just taken place.....in the same courtroom I was about to go fight this traffic ticket in. I offered to take a picture of them all, but they declined. It felt kind of weird being there in my big stupid winter coat and jeans holding a traffic ticket in my hand while standing next to these people who had just embarked on this sacred journey at life together with all their kids and family around them.

So, the police officer shows up at like 2:02, and I'm like "shoot, I was really hoping you had the flu or something today"...he told me he'd had the flu the week before unfortunately for me and the timing of this court date. He's my neighborhood cop, and a good guy..I told him the only hopes I had at winning this case would be a dismissal if he hadn't showed up. So we're talking about points on licenses and all this stuff and he's telling me to to ask the judge about that class you can take online and all. At about 2:13 he says, "lets go in, the judge will see us and come out " so we both head in and sit on the left side together and keep chatting.

So the judge comes in a minute later, and all of a sudden, this entire wedding troupe comes through the door to get married. All of them........ and me, and Officer Lopez. So I'm like "shouldn't we leave?" to Officer Lopez, and he's like "no, its a public courtroom".

I felt so awkward being there. They're all talking and hugging and excited, and getting situated and sort of looking over at me and Lopez and wrapping their heads around the realization that we're in this thing with them and you know, that's the sacrifice you make when you decide to get married in a courthouse.

"Are you sure we should be here? I feel like we shouldn't be here"..."no, you're fine" Officer Lopez assures me.

If It wasn't awkward enough, it didn't help when the judge of courtroom 1B shouted out to the people about to get married who were talking with all their friends and family in the back of the courtroom "Hey, can you get up here and start, I'm running behind schedule" . I cringed...me and my puffy coat and jeans clinging my traffic ticket in my right hand.

We watched the whole wedding, it was beautiful. The groom cried, the bride was solid; no tears from her wells. It was interrupted slightly by the other two couples that came in halfway through with their own traffic violations. According to officer Lopez, those were much worse than mine...they were looking at several points for their infractions. They looked pretty rough on the outside, but I felt a little more at ease about my own presence in that courtroom when they added themselves.

So I lost the traffic case. But, I did get to awkwardly insert myself into these complete strangers wedding, so how about that? If I had to draw a moral to this story it would be this: if you're low on cash and you really want to get married , opt for a drunk Elvis in Vegas, or your parents backyard, or BW3's with a minister who got his right to do nuptials on the internet....Please do it ANYWHERE except that courthouse!! I'm sorry strangers for cheapening your vows today, I was just trying to keep my insurance rates down!!

When leaving the courthouse, I ran into a small crowd of spectators staring at a robot rolling around and its programmer with a remote in his hand showing off its features. It dances and can tell you what courtroom you're in. They were talking about ideas in programming the robot to be site specific to the courthouse. I suggested it comfort people who just lost their case by making them a margarita and saying things like "you should have gotten a better lawyer". So if this ever comes to fruition, you'll know who to thank next time you leave the courthouse crying with a Margarita in your hand. It would have been a huge help for that couple that just got married...it could have thrown rice in their faces as they left the building through the security checkpoint.

the physics

Cooper has this new word he tries to casually throw around.

Last week he opened the back door to snow and remarked "I don't understand the physics of this earth; how can it be warm outside and snowing?"

Today he's talking to Darby about his grade on his math test. Darbys unhappy he got a 90% which is still an A-...Cooper told him "You don't understand the physics of the grade"

Geograbee Darby and the pursuit of $50k

It's 5th grade, Darby has recently settled on becoming an engineer one day. He's getting anxious about the costs of college, and considering playing tennis in hopes of earning a scholarship.

This week, they started a Geograbee....If anyone makes it through the one week round and answers the geography questions correctly, they go on to another round, and another until they get to the finalists round. The winner at the end of this is awarded $50k is college tuition. Darby was REALLY excited about this...this could solve all his worries if he won! He's passed the last few days, but he needs to make it through todays round and he's overly anxious he might miss out. I told him he needs to get really good at losing before he gets good at winning. Successful people are always successful losers first. Get good at losing and you'll get even better at succeeding one day.

Now, he's thinking maybe he'll be a scientist instead of an engineer....but of course he's worried about the costs of schooling for scientists as well and wants to know how much money it will be. My job is to let him know we'll figure out a way...he would make a great engineer, and a great scientist , and a great everything if he continues working hard in school. How did this kid get so anxious about his future and money? Totally different then Cooper.

Coopers personal narrative story project grade 4

How to offend everyone; humor...we had conferences last night, Coopers teacher said Cooper was struggling to understand how to embellish his personal narrative...a story based on something that happened to him. The teacher told him it was okay to embellish or make stuff up that didn't happen to make his story better, so the teacher typed in some details while Cooper watched and Coopers jaw dropped. Cooper explained..."but thats not true, that didn't happen". His teacher explained to him (and us last night) how it is okay to make stuff up and lie when you're writing your story so its more exciting.

I mean how could I NOT say "oh , you're training up future Mainstream media journalists"...the resource room teacher got it right away and had a good laugh, Coopers teacher was thrown off his kilter a bit, lol. I said "Im sorry, I should have set the joke up better for you and had you insert the media of your choice... so he blurted out "Fox news" and that seemed to make him feel better, lol :)

I left feeling proud of my kid for knowing whats good and whats not good, he might make a good journalist after all some day ..... just the facts ma' am, just the facts.

The test

I sat at the polls in ferrysburg Tuesday as poll challenger for five hours. Legally, I can’t talk to the voters...which makes it awkward when people say hi and start talking to you.

Anyways, I’m sitting at a table next to this really sweet poll worker who’d been showing me pictures of her grandkids and new craft room for almost an hour, when this man walked up to us with his ballot . She asks how he’s doing and he responds that he has cancer, but then continues by telling us it’s okay, better him than his kids; And your heart just melts for him...what a sweet response.

He goes on to say:

“Soon, God will ask me “were you a good person? “....And then God will ask me “who did you help”

And he was confident he could pass the goodness exam with flying colors which gave him peace about dying.

Of course, just having written my last piece about goodness...I cringed a little.

Then he handed us each a card for his life coaching services...he also does hypnotherapy to treat depression , addictions, pain etc.

I couldn’t talk, legally...so I just nodded politely. Probably a good idea though just to sit and reflect on what he’d said.

When he walked away All I could think about was the scriptures about how “good” we are...that’s why He sent Jesus to die on the cross. If we were good on our own, well then He died in vain.

I talked briefly about it with the poll worker next to me, She actually attends the same church as I...one of our pastors came through to vote and she remarked how she wished she was as “good” of a Christian as they were. Why do we do this to ourselves people?? The comparing, the goodness barometers and scales?! We just need to stop this, it’s just not true. Let’s stop comparing ourselves to one another....and start comparing ourselves to God...that’s how you get humbled quick!! And that’s where God can do His work in you.

“He opposes the proud and gives grace to the humble”
-James 4:6

“No one is righteous, no not one “
-Romans 3:10

Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone “
-Mark 10:18
( this last one people have used to say that Jesus doesn’t claim deity...read it again and try not to be presumptive about what Jesus said...focus on it and you’ll see what I mean...there are two ways to understand His statement ...is He saying :

1. Only God is good.
2. I am not good.
3. Therefore, I am not God.

or
1. Only God is good.
2. I am good.
3. Therefore, I am God.

Food for thought

This election cycle I offered to help the GOP as a "poll challenger". I had no idea what this even was until last Thursday. I had the ability to challenge nefarious activity and voter fraud at the polls...I didn't do any of that. All I did was keep a list of registered Republicans who I'd cross off the list if they voted. Then, at 5 pm, I dropped my book of people who voted to the GOP so they could call the ones who didn't to remind them to vote.

The area I was sent to was a majority of white folks. I probably sat through about 300 voters passing through. Of that number there were maybe 12 people who were minorities as far as identity politics stuff goes. Latinos, some "black" folks, one arabic fellow, and a few folks of Indian ethnicity. While not even half of the white voters who came through were registered Republicans... Every single one of my minority voters in that precinct, during my 5 hour time slot, was a registered Republican. I thought that was super awesome. For all the alleged racism the republican party is blamed for against minorities,...there I was witnessing every single minority in this small slice of America totally not buying into the lie.

One other observation- some very disheveled people who look like they just rolled out of bed and haven't showered in a week, they weren't on my lists...not saying they were all democrats...I'm just saying they weren't registered republicans. It definitely picked up after 4 pm when many working people starting funneling in....about half of those were registered republicans.

Being Good

Recently someone left me a facebook comment telling me what a good person I was. I have to be completely honest, comments like that make me feel really great for a few seconds and then reality sets in and I start to feel terribly uncomfortable and it stays with me. When someone says something like that to me..."you're a good person Jen" , I start feeling this enormous pressure to keep up with some charade I know I'll ultimately fail at. Why? Because I'm not good, none of us are. Jesus alone is.

I'm not saying we can't all do good things, or that I personally have never done anything good...we all know that we're capable of goodness from time to time. Even Hitler could open a door for a lady every so often and donate to a good cause right? When someone tells me I'm a good person...this weight is put on me that I know I can't bear...so I start to feel like a total and complete fraud...like they just laid this banner that says "good" above my head, and suddenly I have to keep up the appearance so I don't let them down. But I know that I will eventually let someone down.... and now I'll feel like a hypocrite even though I didn't give myself the title. So I'm tearing up the banner right now and making my public confession: I'm not good, and that's why I chose Jesus, He is. If you don't believe I'm not good, ask my husband...or my children, or anyone who's hung around me long enough to know that I fail epically and miserably from time to time.

I intentionally refuse to put my church's sticker on my minivan because I'm a notoriously bad driver. You think my social media is bad for my church's image, you should see my driving. I mean, I'm a good driver, according to my own standards, but a bad driver according to the good rule followers of West Michigan. My mom was a cabdriver in Detroit for many years when I was a kid. She drove like a Detroit cab driver....then she taught me how to drive her stick shift car like a Detroit cab driver when I was 12. Soon after, at age 13, I'd sneak out in her car on days she rode her bike to work and tool around the suburbs of Detroit with my friends. I know I've grown some in this area of driving since I was 13...at least I regularly wear a seat belt now...but, to be honest, it's only because my car beeps at me endlessly if I don't. By west Michigan standards, I'm immediately disqualified from being a good person based on my driving alone. And thats just the tip of the iceberg folks.

When my twins were young and the red flags for autism were popping up...I'd go to the park or and talk to other parents who would often tell me how amazingly brilliant their toddlers were...in advanced placement alphabet and color recognition by age 1, teaching algebra at age 4...self taught readers and prodigys! I'd listen intently but would often be distracted by my kids 10 feet away who were usually eating mulch and dirt or banging their head against something. And I totally get it...I was TOTALLY that parent with my first two kids...my twins just gave me a different reality. So, I just kind of got used to poking fun at ourselves, and completely resting on Jesus for anything good to come of us.

Jesus has been faithful and GOOD to us. All I've done is heavily relied on Him....that's been my part...that's all I bring to the relationship between God and myself, total dependence on Him. My kids are 11 now, we still have a lot to work on. But, today they read beyond their grade level and excel in almost all school subjects. I was recently told they'll likely be put in AP classes in high school, right after I was told one of them was caught with his entire sole of his shoe in his mouth. My goal has always been simple: keep them out of prison and teach them Gods Word. I don't want my kids growing up having to feel like frauds either. They're not always good either. We're all just human. We're capable of doing good things and we're equally capable of totally sucking, and failing, and sinning....and the good news? It's okay- God's not done with us.

I'll be perfect one day, ...but it won't be with my feet planted on this earth, it will be on the other side of Glory. And it definitely will not be due to my awesome resume of goodness....it will be because of Jesus' awesome record of goodness on my behalf. If you want to listen to some of my stories of how God has transformed my heart....please do because He is incredible and His Word humbles us and does continually transform and sanctify us! But, if you're looking to me like I'm the end all poster child for Christianity, please don't, you'll be disappointed, and it won't take long!!! Look past me to the one I'm looking at. He alone is good.

All that to say, please don't ever tell me I'm good...I don't need any self confidence...I need God confidence :) Remind me of how Good God is despite me. I always wince when I hear people say something like "He's a Great man of God"...and I always wish they would instead say "He's a man who serves a GREAT God". Lets lessen the burden on each other, and place it on the one who can bear the weight of the title "Good"- He's not a fraud...He's the real deal. He's the ONLY real deal. Trust in Him today, what are you waiting for?!

Pizza Party

In 2009 I quit a really cushiony accounting job for another accounting position at a pharmaceutical manufacturer in Grand Haven. I'd worked for a private equity firm in their corporate office for nearly five years. My cushiony job really shielded me from the grit of the true general ledger manufacturing accounting. We operated at such a high level consolidating financials and info from the actual plants who were doing most of the groundwork. Our office had top of the line everything. It was renovated while i worked there and full of the latest technology. My cubicle was huge and clean; and we had a cleaning service that came in daily to keep it that way. We even employed a plant watering service to keep our plants looking their best. We had a small staff of about 12; they were mostly executives in the company. We frequently had lunch brought in, my boss was a seriously the nicest guy. We only brewed Gevalia brand coffee. We had unlimited free soda of every kind in the fridge, snacks galore. Sometimes we'd sit and have a beer in the conference room together on a Friday night. During the holidays, we'd get a caterer and have our fancy little office party. During Christmas season, everyone and their brother would send us more junk to eat, poundcakes, cookies, it was endless amounts of food. Half the time they'd give it all to me to take home to the kids because I was one of the lowest paid employees there.

I started looking for a job with companies that carried Blue Cross Insurance to help cover my boys for autism services at the time. I really thought it would be good for me to step down from the corporate level and "get in the trenches" so I'd gain some experience at the ground level. So I took this job right down the street from my house. I'd later ask myself what on hell I was thinking leaving such a lofty job in a lucrative company on purpose. I did get a raise at the new place and the insurance I was looking for.

It was Day one , literally hour one of the new job. The new boss, who'd hired me, brought me into his office and shut the door behind me. He asked me a series of questions about another employee we worked with who I'd also worked with at my previous place of employment. He wasn't in the corporate office but worked for one of our manufacturing companies. This new boss had an axe to grind with this guy and I soon realized he'd hired me as a henchman in an effort to get this guy fired. He picked the wrong candidate. I knew I'd stepped into some dysfunctional stuff right away.

After that odd introduction, I trekked back to my tiny cubicle across the plant , which was crammed together with a bunch of other cubicles in a cold, small, dark office space with about six to eight other people who worked in other departments. The atmosphere was very cold. I'd later find out, one of the guys who worked alongside me was in R&D but applied and interviewed for my position and didn't get it. So he wasn't thrilled with me being there. It was just a quiet unwelcoming place. I thought "what have I done?!" and I called my prior employer to see if they'd filled my position. Unfortunately for me, they had.

So one day, still my first week or so at this new job, I'm sitting in my cubicle and it's about lunchtime; I smell pizza coming from somewhere. So I look around and realize everyone is gone, they're all down the hall in this conference room sitting together sharing some pizza. Evidently, they had a pop system there to fund their pizza. You paid $0.50 for a soda, when there was enough money from returnables, they'd all order pizza to share. They intentionally didn't invite me. So I follow this pizza smell into the kitchen across from the conference room where they're all sitting....I grab a few slices of pizza, throw it on a plate, walk across the hall into the conference room and sit down right in the middle of all of them and eat pizza. I decided I wasn't going to be uninvited.

It was pretty awkward, for them anyways. I was thinking "who one earth does this??! ain't no one gonna have a pizza party and not include me", so I just included myself. I never regretted it....Today I realized that I still pretty much live my life this way.

For most years of my life, I was really concerned with what others thought of me. When I became a believer and a conservative...things got awkward for alot of people around me. I'm so accustomed to it that I generally ignore the awkwardness and stick around anyways. You might think I'm just clueless, but I know whats going on...I'm well aware I'm not always liked or appreciated or respected by many people, I just don't care. I did end up becoming friends with most of those people, great friends with one of them. So stick around, some of you might end up liking me after all. For the ones who don't...I could care less, and I'll bless you anyways!!

Keep your fork

Early on in my faith, I attended a church called “Hope” in Grand Haven Michigan. yes;One Sunday morning, we had a potluck in the brightly lit, outdated church gym that would follow the sermon. The pastor gave his sermon and incorporated the following story:


There was a Christian lady who was diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So, as she was getting her things "in order," she contacted her pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in. The woman also requested to be buried with her favorite Bible. Everything was in order and the pastor was preparing to leave when the woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.There's one more thing," she said excitedly."What's that?" came the pastor's reply."I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."The pastor stood looking at the woman, not knowing quite what to say. "That surprises you, doesn't it?", the woman asked."Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the pastor.The woman explained, "In all my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main courses were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, "Keep your fork." It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance! So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder, "What's with the fork?" Then I want you to tell them: "Keep your fork. The best is yet to come.The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the woman good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the woman had a better grasp of Heaven than most Christians did.At her funeral people were walking by the woman's casket and they saw the pretty dress she was wearing, her favorite Bible, and the fork placed in her right hand."What's with the fork?And over and over he smiled.During his message, the pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. The pastor told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either. He was right.So the next time you reach down for your fork, let it remind you ever so gently, that the best is yet to come.True friends are a very rare jewel, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They appreciate you. They accept you just as you are. They would never take advantage of you. They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and they always want to open their hearts to you.And keep your fork, because for all Christians, we need not fear death. It is only a shadow we go through from this life into eternal life. Nothing scary. Nothing unknown. Jesus Christ is right there with us all the way.




We followed up the sermon on that Sunday morning with our own church potluck, so it was a fitting story to be told on that particular day. We made our way out of the sanctuary towards the gym and soon I was standing in line at the end of a trail of people waiting my turn to eat thinking about that woman and her fork. By the time I loaded up my plate and went to grab a fork, the person ahead of me had taken the last one...and there were none left. Because I’m a spiritually sensitive person and the Lord speaks to me volumes through analogies; you could imagine I was quite troubled and heartbroken realizing there was no fork left for me.


I’m sure my eyes misted up a bit, so I grabbed a spoon and a napkin (which would soon operate instead as a tear dabbing, wipe away the evidence, tissue) and headed to a table in the corner to put my gaze down towards my plate and avoid looking upset over something so silly. I didn’t have the courage to just go ask where the forks were and refill the fork basket as I would have done under normal circumstances had I not just listened to the story above. It wasn’t five minutes later that my pastor tapped me on the shoulder before he handed me a fork. I was overwhelmed with relief at what that meant in the moment of reflection I was in. Did I understand the significance? I did in that moment and even more so now that I’ve been pondering it again 9 years later.

In a world where we often feel rejected and alone…like an outsider looking in…like the one who missed the boat everyone else got on…. The one who didn’t get invited to the party… The kid who’s the only one still at school wondering if their parent forgot about them. Our true pastor Jesus never forgets about us. He was the outsider looking in at His own creation. He knows rejection and sorrow and isolation. So, when you are in that place, He will always be there waiting to hand you your fork to whisper in your ear that you are His and you are never alone. Put your trust in Him. What are you waiting for?

I told my mom about this event shortly after it happened. In all likeliness it was probably the same day. It was early on in my faith walk and she never forgot it…. even though I had. I'd completely forgotten this happened. During her battle with pancreatic cancer nine years later, she brought it up to me.

“Hey, remember that story about the fork, and you never got a fork and how upset you were? She said.  “No, what are you talking about?” I asked.  And she reiterated the entire event to me and told me how much that story stayed with her and how happy she was that my pastor gave me a fork. I'm so thankful she remembered so I could remember how God was with me that day….and subsequently her in her final days….and hopefully for you, my reader, today.

Act 2- a pity trail of isolation, rejection and sorrow.

I've been going through a multi year  season of snowballing  rejection and isolation that Ive rejected to acknowledge properly over the years .  . The symptoms of my pain seem to only rear their head when I'm at church which makes going to church difficult at times.  I get ridiculously  embarrassed when I  cry in church, so I try to hide it which makes me feel even more isolated  from my church. You don't want to be that one girl who is weeping like the prostitute at Jesus' feet wiping his feet with her tears around a bunch of people who don't know you, its humiliating....so I'm thankful I have long hair because I can usually hold my head down and my hair will hang down and I can just quietly weep my heart and  pain out  to Jesus without strangers noticing. I usually just have to survive getting out of there quickly when its ended so no one notices me. I've gotten somewhat good and hiding it and holding it all in this last year , so its reduced down to just appearing to have some  allergies on my best days.   I love my church, its a gospel preaching and teaching church that handles Gods Word with great care. I've been toggling with the idea of getting counseling just to deal with some of the grief I experienced this last year with my mom dying and the subsequent awfulness of being rejected by my remaining family members and how the entire gamut  of crap I never got over just needs to be dealt with.

I've been accustomed to being rejected by the world and my old friends. It doesn't even phase me anymore. I just expect it.  I think thats why I have this need to feel accepted by Gods people....its the safe place i want to run to when the rest of the world despises me for my faith which has been rooted in boldness and truth. Jesus has been my resting place, my place of sanctuary. But He has called me to fellowship with other believers and I recognize my need for it.

I was at my first women's conference yesterday after attending my church for seven years. Jeff and I recently joined a small group and they suggested everyone go. So , as part of my action plan to feel connected to this church family...I went. I ended up getting separated from my small group , which was just coincidental and definitely not intentional...but even that small insignificant event where I was sent to the far outer corners and separated had me so hurt and weepy, I've realized this is something I need to identify, pray about,  and deal with head on because I'm not going to spend the rest of my life crying every time I'm at church. So here I am at 4:27 am on an early Sunday morning doing just that. If you're reading this and you're experiencing rejection and loneliness and isolation (perceived or real), you're not alone. Satan is a real asshole, and he'll do everything to separate and isolate us....lets be diligent in fighting back, by the power given to us, in the name of the Lord.

I'm going to walk through my story the best I can to try and identify the scenes that Satan uses on me to get me to this place of isolation and sadness...

BC:

Before Christ (in my life), I visited nearly every church in this area at least once as a broken hearted sinner who needed a savior...without understanding what any of that even  meant.  I was a single mom living in poverty with a dysfunctional upbringing I'd also repeated in my own life as I got older. I was living in West Michigans bible belt with no family around except my two kids I was raising alone. My ex husband was in prison for drug related charges. His family was Christian reformed...and I just wasn't really their churches normal  type...or at least that's how I felt...I'm not really sure if they understood the reality that Jesus came to save messed up people like me and had the power to actually heal and transform my heart. They never invited me to their church. But I visited from time to time; always different churches ,  because I always liked to hear about Jesus and was intrigued by him since my teenage years. I was broken hearted from my life, trying to figure out how to feel normal and put together like the people around me in these churches appeared to be,  while  my kids sat  in a nursery with different strangers at different churches here and there sporadically for many years . I never returned to the same church. I always was the visitor looking in from the outside . My story was too messy and shocking really I believe for most people Id encountered to handle. I would sit far in the back  and look around at families sitting there together and just feel dirty and broken and not  good enough.


My twins:

My twins were born when I was 30 , Zoe and Miles were 7 and 9 years old. God brought me into truth. He grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and had me in a church and saved me by His Word. The light went on. I surrendered everything and my life was pretty radically changed and my thoughts and mind began the process of being renewed. . I was being healed from things in my past...a bullying experience from my youth, being raised without a dad who cared to be part of my life...just all that junk I had, God was bringing all sorts of stuff to the surface and just healing me,  and giving me an understanding of who He was. My head and heart were being filled with truth for the first time.  My twins were only 4 or 5 months old when it began. It was awesome.

By the time my twins were 8 months old, my pastor was forced to step down and ended up in jail for his provocative meetings with a church member who happened to also be on the worship team and happened to be related by marriage to my pastor. It was messy. I still don't really understand what happened.  But it didn't shake my faith at all. I knew Jesus was my rock, and my hope wasn't in that pastor...it was rooted in  Christ. I watched lifelng believers walk away from the faith. But God started something in me that would never allow me to return to who I was before. I started visiting other churches and ended up at Hope church in Grand Haven for a few years. I loved Hope. I did Bible studies and was always warmly received. I probably felt like a little bit of an outsider with the core group , but I always seemed to find enough people to make it feel like a family.

At Hope on a Sunday, there was a  sermon  that was followed by a church potluck.  The pastor told a story about a terminally ill woman who requested she be buried with her fork because "the best was yet to come" and how people would always remark at church potlucks to " keep your  fork"  because the dessert that followed was always the best part....she knew something better was coming. ...it was a longer story and you're welcome to google it, you'll find it quite easily. The story moved me, I absolutely loved it., We followed up the sermon that Sunday morning with a potluck so it was a  fitting story for the day . I stood at the back of the line, full of hope , waiting to eat thinking about that story. By the time I loaded up my plate and  went to grab a  fork, the person ahead of me had taken the last one...and there were none left. Realizing I was at the back of the line and just having heard the sermon, this troubled my spirit quite a bit. I was a bit misty eyed as I went to sit down with my food and no fork heavily grieving the symbolism of the matter and trying to keep to myself. The pastor of the church must have noticed because he actually tapped me on the shoulder a few minutes later to hand me a fork. I was so relieved I probably cried. I told my mom this story which was early on in my Christian walk and she never forgot it. I'd actually completely forgotten this happened, and she brought it up to me a few month before she died....how much that story stayed with her and how happy she was that my pastor gave me a fork. I'm so thankful she remembered so I could remember how God was with me that day.

When my twins were about a year old they started experiencing red flags for autism. That took me on a new kind of journey of isolation I never expected. I'll skip the divorce and other factors that were difficult during those years and just say that stuff was extremely difficult for some time  but God has been relentlessly faithful to me...despite me....even when I failed Him, He never failed me...NEVER. And I can't stress enough that this was not because I did everything right, I did the opposite...I was a mess.I tried...I loved God, I was growing in my faith,  but my flesh and sinful nature struggled with doing it all the right way. He never left me, He walked with me and He blessed me in ways I never knew were possible, completely despite me. Theres a passage in the book of Timothy.."God opposes the proud and gives grace to the humble". this is my life verse. God has consistently humbled me, my own sin has humbled me,  and then he subsequently blessed me with His grace...the verse is true.

Because my twins ended up having autism, or Aspergers, or "spectrum disorder" or whatever they call it now ....social things were tough. We didn't have the typical experiences you might have with your normal child. Church was tough. My kids were usually the two toddlers in nursery throwing large objects around the room, licking people, and screaming. I spent a lot of time in the nursery..even on weeks I wasn't scheduled to work in the nursery...that bright red flashing number during service was often  flashing for me to come rescue a nursery volunteer from my boys....when It wasn't, I was so grieved half the time over their condition and my home life,  I spent many sermons alone in an empty church room just crying out to God to heal my boys.

They never got invited to birthday parties, we were never invited to play dates. No one ever wanted to come to our playdates, neighbor kids didn't want to play with them, eventually you just give up on that stuff.  My kids were just too quirky and things were just too hectic. I would bring them to the parks and carnivals and such for some social interaction , it was just hard and we always managed to get alot of people staring at us wondering what on earth was wrong with them.  Even if we were invited over to play at someones house, it was just embarrassing because my boys were so obviously different, loud, hectic and something would inevitably be broken...it was just easier to stay away from other people. We would never  be invited over twice.  It was nearly impossible to just carry on a conversation...so that started a new season of isolation for me.

I think I ended up on facebook honestly so much when I lost my job 4 years ago because I am such a social person. I love to connect with people, work was the only place I could do that...I'm at the opposite end of the spectrum from my kids. I do great socially and with new people. So  facebook and social media gave me a chance to engage with people when I was prohibited from doing so  because of my kids. Normally I'd have friends and playmates and sleepovers as I had with my older kids...so I've used  social media to fill that gap. Today that's changing  slightly  as my boys are getting older...but for a decade that has just been our reality.

When they were five years old, I sat in a roomful of public educators who told me my kids couldn't be in a regular kindergarten classroom, they needed to separate them from the "regular kids" and keep them  with the small group of emotionally impaired kids. I was devastated. I left that meeting and returned to work and just cried in my little cubicle. God gave me a compassionate friend in that season of life who had just started working next to me....I'm so grateful for her. I eventually convinced her to come to Harvest and join a small group. Then I had front row seats to a miracle God did in her marriage years later.

In 2011, a few things happened that made me decide to leave Hope church. The main reason was my boys had turned four and the policy during that time was they were to sit with me for the first 30 minutes during prayer requests, announcements and worship. I knew this wasn't something my kids could handle, or me for that matter. The second reason I left (which was made easier by the first reason). I was going through  a very tough breakup and divorce from my ex husband who wanted me dead. He decided after years of not going to church with me that he would go in an attempt to change my mind. I wanted to give him the space without us there to prove he was in it for the long haul and not just to temporarily manipulate me again. . He only went for a few weeks before he stopped.   It was a temporary move motivated by his want to have me cancel the divorce. I had already started going to Harvest by that point and no one had reached out to me from Hope. So it just seemed like it was Gods providence to move me.

  I joined a small group at my church 2 years later in the fall of 2013. I was so excited to connect with people from my church finally. I really knew I needed to surround myself with other believers to keep from being isolated as I had been for  so many years with my kids. I was open and transparent , which is just something God allowed me to be since I had  become a believer in 2007. I had freedom in Christ! from my transgressions and openly shared who I was, my victories,  my struggles win sin past and present, and Gods faithfulness.  I wasn't able to come every week  because I was a single parent again which I explained to my group leaders, a husband and wife team. ...I had  four kids under my roof; two with Aspergers in special education and a full time job. Still, no family in the area. Jeff was still living in Delaware, we'd been dating for alomst two years.    A babysitter wasn't really an option for my twins. . So the weeks they were with me, I didn't go to group...every other Wednesday night they spent with their dad...I went to small group. That lasted a few months. I could sense that I didn't seem to have the same warm reception with this group I was used to in christian circles and former bible studies at the other two churches Id attended.  I figured that might eventually change as we got to know each other better. I thought it would help if I reached out to meet with the gal who led our group to make sure she didn't feel awkward with me because she was part of my first church and involved with the pastor who went to jail...and she was the victim in that messy situation. So I thought perhaps she was uncomfortable that I knew the family and that was their source of palpable discomfort with me. The pastor of that first church where things were sour for her, their pastor's sister had been instrumental in leading me to Christ. I knew from working with the pastors sister, the two families were at odds with each other in court and personally. She assured me that it wasn't an issue at all, so I believed her.

I went to work one day in February of 2014 , shortly after my arrival, I was called into a conference room and told the finance department was being restructured and my senior accountant position was being eliminated. I knew I was just being fired in a nice way because I was constantly being called to the schools to get my kids who were out of control and I wasn't able to perform to the level a normal person with a normal family might have. It was a good call on their part honestly and they gave me a generous severance package I'm so extremely grateful for. It still hurt. I worked there for five years and in a moment, I was escorted to my desk by security to pack my shit up before security walked me to my car. I knew the security guy, Id worked with him for years and he felt terrible and told me repeatedly he knew how ridiculously it was being handled and that it was just protocol he had to follow from corporate.  There was no cake, no  party, no goodbye....no thank you...just a swift kick to the curb. A few people called me from work that week which I really appreciated. One has consistently stayed my friend, she's the one who goes to Harvest with us now .  She  organized an informal  farewell party for me not long after at a local pub. I think three  or four people showed up. I was the "christian" girl at work. My faith didn't exactly make me many close friends with all the atheist scientists I worked and conversed with. Actually she and I both worked with a group of scientists we were always witnessing to and thought of as friends. Neither one of us were invited to their weddings...I think it was the Jesus stuff.

The day after I was fired. it was a Wednesday night so I went to my church small group. I came in early because my group leaders sent me a message they wanted to meet with me. I arrived and they asked me to step into a conference room. It felt awkward right away. I knew something was up and I couldn't believe the irony that I'd just been called into another conference room to be fired the day before. They relayed to me that other group members weren't comfortable with me in their group because I wasn't able to be there every week.  I'd already sensed the times I was there that I wasn't liked by them. I felt like I annoyed them. I was surprised because I'd always thought I was an affable person, ESPECIALLY to other believers in my church journey since Id become a believer. So I couldn't understand why they didn't like me (at least that was my perception, i'll never really know). It felt like they just wanted me out of their group  I went home and decided I'd probably do well to just stay with my kids and read the bible to them which is what I ended up doing. I emailed the entire small group thanking them for my time with them and letting them know I wouldn't be coming back to small group because my kids really needed me and that I'd be doing bible study with them because I was so pressed for time with them already. It was my attempt at a good farewell thank-you letter to them so it wouldn't feel awkward for anyone who saw me at church  that I just disappeared with no reason. I never alluded to my private meeting in that conference room with my group leaders. I waited for some responses, and not one person from my small group ever responded to that email...not one. That was really hard to understand and it baffles me to this day. I sort of told myself it must have just been lost with other emails they'd had...for all 18 of them.

Because I'd convinced myself  that  it wasn't intentional and must have just been a strange email glitch that everyone somehow had...I added some of these people on facebook still believing I had some friends from my new church. I liked and commented on their posts over the years. Over many years, I discovered that I'd never received a like or comment back from them. Years later, one of the gals from that small group actually posted one day that her son, who was my twins age, had a social issue that was Aspergers related; she was praying that he'd make friends in the upcoming school year. I excitedly commented that my boys too had social issues and we'd love to hang out if he ever needed a friend. I got no response. I still can't understand why.

It was great for my kids when I started staying home from work and we began  reading the bible together. They loved it and it was a way that we could really connect. A year or so later, i took my twins to church on a baptism Sunday. They knew what baptism was from reading the bible with me. They asked to be baptized. I wasn't sure if kids were able to be baptized so I asked an elder and was told they had just done a spontaneous baptism for a 7 year old in the service before. I struggled a  little bit with them getting baptized on account of their age and social condition but didn't feel right telling them no honestly. So I joyfully told my kids they could be baptized, and I was thrilled for them. We went downstairs to meet with some church leaders before they were baptized to talk to the boys. They asked them questions and my boys did their best to answer. But my kids have social issues, and their speech is difficult to understand, and their eye contact wasn't the greatest. At the end of it the deacons/elders told me they would not baptize the boys because they didn't think their story was good enough. I was shocked as we sat there honestly,because it just wasn't something I anticipated happening....which is totally my fault.  My kids ,excited  they were going to be baptized, were now trying to understand what was happening next as we sat there with the elders. The elders looking at me to communicate this to the boys. I did, with my voice cracking, as my boys both  started crying grappling to understand  what was happening as they  spun  into a fit like kids with Aspergers do...like yelling "why?"! and it was very difficult to calm them down in that moment and adequately explain the situation to them. My flesh and heart failed me. . I was so embarrassed by them and also so  hurt for them, and so embarrassed that I couldn't be stoic in that moment as their parent as I was crying myself.

 It was a horrible and awkward situation for both myself and these two deacons/elders  who I'm sure were horrified by the reaction of all 3 of us. They had no idea of our history, so I'm sure the entire scene was hard for them to process. I just wanted to escape so I grabbed the boys, thanked the deacons, and we left...we walked past the sanctuary while the baptisms were going on in tears, all three of us and ran out into the parking lot to get away. I had to text Miles  who was still watching baptisms to meet us in the car. And then we drove home crying.

I beat myself up over that because I should have prepared the twins for their baptism, I just didn't expect that they would ask to be baptized that day. I should have said no and prepared it for a later date. I struggled with it myself because of their age and Aspergers, but I decided "who was I to prevent anyone from being baptized?" and I knew their hearts and motives were good , even if they weren't exactly a perfect or shining example of Christianity by that point . I beat myself up for never being prepared that they could be  denied for baptism and just getting upset and crying and embarrassing all of us..... especially Miles who was maybe 15 at the time. And in my transparent  fashion, I wrote a post on facebook the next day about our "church fail"....not our church failing us...but me going to church and failing in a disastrous way. I immediately realized that "church fail" wasn't being understood the way I intended as people started commenting about how the elders failed us trying to sympathize with what was obviously a situation that sucked. And I'd respond to give clarity that it was a great church and we're all flawed human beings  and these things just happen from time to time and I should have been more prepared instead of allowing for a spontaneous baptism etc etc etc.  I'm still not mad at these two men, its just what happened that day. But it hurt, it hurt like hell...it still makes me cry when I think about it. My kids still haven't been baptized to this day. They may never have a good enough story, and I don't know if I have the heart to have them do a public baptism  with me around  because I don't know what kind of debacle could transpire from it or if I could hold it together.


Harvest has changed their policy since my "church fail" on how kids are baptized.  Kids no longer can do spontaneous baptisms because of us. A pastor seeing my post reached out to me and we met and I think it was good and we were on the same page. I never really know, its such a big church. I hope they don't resent me for it.

Jeff:

When Jeff and I were engaged and he still lived in Delaware. I called our church to do premarital counseling. I'd been married twice already. I'm the Samaritan woman. I'd never done premarital counseling before so I thought I'd try to do something right. Jeff couldn't come because he didn't live here yet. So we decided they would just meet with me first. I met with a husband and wife team and tried to give them a picture of who I was and the relationship I'd had with Jeff. I think I talked for 20 minutes straight. After I gave my transparent summary, the pastor told me I should break up with Jeff....and then I left premarital counseling. I'm so thankful I didn't break up with Jeff. He's been an incredible blessing to our family from God. I laughed about it with Jeff and to this day when I tell the story I always remark that after I talked about myself for 20 minutes in premarital counseling, the pastor  told me to break up with him. I believe he was really trying to save Jeff from me without even knowing him...he'd heard enough about who I was he knew this was a difficult situation for any man to enter. I'm so thankful my husband took a chance on me and my kids.

Speaking of the Samaritan woman. Its always funny to me now at a more stable time in my life, when I'm in conversations with different people...and this happens from time to time. We'll be talking in a group and someone will say about another person they know or just in general "you know she has like 3 kids by different dads and they all have different last names and she's been married multiple times". and everyone in the group  nods in disgust. The person they are describing is actually me, thats my story...and I always tell people that when I hear that conversation...I say it in a nice way, just because its true and people are always shocked...but its true. Thats me. Its humbling.

A few years ago I met a really awesome girl at our Thursday morning bible study lecture. She was in prison ministry and looking for volunteers. I was so excited to do this, I started the process with her help. She warned me that the chaplain was kind of difficult so I had a little heads up before this strange event unfolded. . I filled out security clearance forms she had me email to the deputy at the jail , more paperwork galore she had me send to the chaplain. Then I  waited...for weeks and then months . Then I called for a few weeks trying to see if I'd been accepted. When I finally got ahold of the chaplain, he told me I was rejected for my felony. I was shocked because I had no felony on my record. I asked him what my background check said my felony was for and he told me that the deputy said "I'd know what I did". I paid $35  to get a background check out of fear my identity was stolen. My record was clear. I sent my background report to the chaplain and the deputy who I was told denied me. The deputy wouldn't return my call for two weeks and the chaplain never responded. By that point I was just trying to clear my name.

When I finally had the deputy on the phone he told me I was never  denied for a felony, I'd been denied because the chaplain never turned in my other paperwork I'd filled out and sent him ...so he didn't know who I was. I called the Chaplain back to explain the situation to him and this information seemed to infuriate  him. He told me I was like a thief trying to break in through the back door for reaching out to the deputy on my own. This was all for a volunteer job...me working for no money to help society's rejected broken people. I never ended up getting that position. I did hear the chaplain was eventually fired though.

Jeff and I got married in Vegas. It was just easy. Our marriage has always been better than our cheap little drive through  wedding after dating for 4 years long distance!!!, but I wouldn't change any of it. We wanted to have a reception so we could celebrate with the kids. So the next summer we did just that. We wanted a pastor from Harvest to come because it was such a great opportunity for our friends and family to hear a gospel message. Most of them would  never set foot in a church or had that opportunity.  We requested Dave Wisen, but he had prior commitments. Then it was tossed to Calvin, but something eventually came up for him as well a few weeks beforehand. Then it was tossed to my old small group leader who actually did it. We invited he and his wife to the reception to stay for dinner but his wife didn't come, and the pastor left after he gave his blessing. I still get the feeling they don't like me, but its probably just my perception. I'll never know, and it really doesn't matter anyways. They have a great impact on many other people and I'm thankful for that.

Since Jeff and I married and he moved here, I've wanted to try small group again with him. He wanted to get his bearings straight first living in a new state, with a new job, and four kids so we never joined. He actually had a really good argument. It was more important for us to spend time with the kids and be together as a family while they were still young enough to make an impact. He thought the small group would take away from that, and he was right. He eventually joined toastmasters to improve his public speaking skills to overcome some hurdles at work. Thats been really positive for him and for our family since he's our sole provider.

I started going to the Thursday morning bible studies instead initially  because I thought that might be a good way to connect with people at church. I learned within minutes that  it wasn't a sit around and discuss topics with others like most  bible studies tend to be ....but it was such good teaching it was still a great blessing. And I have met a few women here and there from that group I've chatted with and gotten to know a little. Gods put women in my life the last few years in really tough situations. I've pointed them all to small groups which has been very positive for all of them. Its just been a season where my life wasn't so dramatic, I could sit and listen to other women and point them to Jesus. Later those same few friends would encourage me to join a small group because they loved theirs so much. But Jeff still didn't think it was the right time yet. He wanted to wait another year. So we waited.

My mom in Detroit ended up with pancreatic cancer and died 6 months later leaving me with a trust to divide, a home to sell, and just STUFF..stuff everywhere. She also left me with my extended family who didn't like me....first because I was a sinner on dead tour, then because I was a Christian. It was a pretty tough situation and at the end of it I had one person who stuck up for me...my stepdad who my mom had married in my mid twenties and she divorced just 3 years prior to her death. He knew how my family was and he loved me and my kids, even though he wasn't a believer, he was a secular Jew. He was diagnosed with cancer and died six months after my mom died.

The last time I saw him, we drove in for my moms headstone reveal at the cemetery in Detroit . Jeff and I drove in with the kids. We scheduled the revealing for 11am  so we'd have time to get there from west Michigan to be with the family to see my moms headstone.. When we arrived, the rest of my family decided to do it earlier, they didn't want to wait for us. So they came at 10:40 and left as we arrived.... all of them, grandma, aunt, cousins and half sister, nephews, etc. We drove to my grandmothers house afterwards to see them. They were all unhappy with me by that point. I saw my stepdad with his new girlfriend at my grandmothers house and he looked terrible and I could tell he wasn't going to make it, he had literally just been diagnosed the week before and was feeling and looking fine. He died a few  weeks later.

 He was my twins only papa. And the only family member that actually adored and loved them. He sent them cards on their birthdays, he called us...he was the dad I wished I'd had growing up. But he wasn't, he was the dad of four other daughters and many grandsons. When we went to his funeral, it was complicated because my mom had divorced him a few years before. I had only told my boys about their divorce the year before because they remained friends and I didn't want to upset the kids. We sat near in a pew right behind his daughters during the funeral. It was just myself, Miles and the twins. When his daughter gave the eulogy  she spoke about the love of his life Florence, his girlfriend he' d had the last two years. And she spoke of the love he had for his 4 daughters and his 8 grandkids which she named one by one. . My name wasn't included and more devastatingly my twins names weren't included. My twins were so upset they cried which made me cry. Darby said to me after the funeral "Papa would be so mad that they didn't say our names too "..."I know he would Bud, he LOVED you two and was so proud of you" I said. And I know he would have been. He knew how important his role as "Papa" was.

By the time we got to his funeral, my whole family was also mad at his whole family and me...for separate reasons I'll never fully understand. So when the funeral ended, I  just cried, then I stood up as everyone was greeting and laughing and making small chat and just cried and felt completely isolated. My kids went to the hall to see all his photographs they set up. I remember just looking around for someone, anyone to be there...but there was no one. My family stared coldly at me and avoided me and I didn't know many other people, and I was just sad. My mom had just died, He had just died and I was just wrecked with grief after running for a full year through cancer and issues with my family. So I stood there isolated  feeling  humiliated that I was crying, I gathered my boys and we left.

We went to his daughters house for shiva with the kids. My family never went. His daughter apologized to me, she felt so bad about leaving us out of his eulogy but was so worried that if she'd said our names and not my older sisters and her adult kids names, that my bipolar sister would cause a big scene during the funeral...which she may have done so it was a good point.  And she knew her father did not view my sister or her kids as his kids because they had been a constant source of pain and drain on he and my mother when they were married for fifteen years. So it was just the circumstance, again. Not intentional pain, just the way of this broken complex world. We didn't stay too long for shiva, it was to be a celebration with flip flops and beer as Howard requested.  I just wasn't in the mood to celebrate and drink, I was just sad. . So we made the 3 hour drive back home.

When my mom  died, she gave her dog, Lexi, to Howard. A month later, Howard called me to ask if I would take the dog if anything happened to him and I said I would. My twins obsessively loved this dog. So when he died six months later,  it was the one glimmer of hope for them that they would have this piece of their  grandma Patty and Papas dog. When my mom died, I walked through my moms house with Howard . He asked if he could take a bronze statue he'd had made with my mother on a roadtrip they took to Arizona. It was a statue of three elderly women sitting on a bench huddled together laughing. Of course I gave it to him and we both cried together. When he died 6 months later, I asked his daughter if I could have the statue as a reminder of them both. She told me Florence had already taken it (his girlfriend of 2 years). Florence  also couldn't part with my moms dog she'd been caring for the two weeks Howard was sick before he died, so that was taken away from my boys as well . I didn't fight it, because it was just stuff and honestly I didn't ever really want the dog but would have been happy to take her for my boys. We just grieved, we hurt, we got over it and moved on. All those things are temporary.

That was a tough year to go to church. I felt alone, I really wished I'd had a small group who knew me that could pray with me and counsel me through that time.  I think Jeff felt guilty that we never joined a group so  he signed us up for one at the end of the summer after I spent so many moments just crying myself to sleep with grief. How do you start a group with all that junk? If I figure it out, i'll write a book about it.

I've been nervous to join, I'll be honest. I'll hide behind my humor and try to put on a happy face...which I actually have most of the time. I just want to feel normal again, and be able to relate to people in my group without making them uncomfortable , or talking to much, or taking up too much time. And for the love, I would like to quit sporadically crying over little things because of other big things I just need to get over. They seem super nice, and its evident they all love the Lord.

I'm trying to be myself. I'm a little uncomfortable. We went to dinner together, I ordered a glass of red wine. I was the only one. Was that taboo? Was I not supposed to do that? These are the stupid small things i worry about now that I'm trying to fit in and not make anyone uncomfortable so I don't get fired again. . They encouraged everyone to go to the women's conference which Ive never gone too. But I purchased my ticket. , a few weeks later, I sent a text of my "deep" , seriously fleeting  random thought I had on my mind trying to be relatable on a weekday afternoon to the gals in my group . I didnt get much of a response. Do they think I'm weird? Did they take it the wrong way? oh no, did they think I meant them?? Church fail...again, me not them. I tried to explain myself further...I think it just made it more awkward...someone asked who it was that was texting them and I took a dumb goofy picture of my big head because I thought it might get some laughs....no response. Oh dear me, what have I done?

 I went to the conference yesterday morning to sit with my group. They'd actually reserved seats for everyone. Fortunately because it was so well attended all of our reserved seats were gone or spoken for . But the group in front of us had an open seat left so someone said just sit there...so i did. And I sat next to another gal I've known for many years. She attended the first church I ever went to. And her mom has also just passed awaytoo,  so it seemed like it was okay....okay yeah I'm feeling comfortable and relatable...I can totally do this!  Worship started and we all stood up and worshiped the Lord together....I didn't make it through one full song before I heard "Oh hey it looks like another person showed up, so she needs your seat". "Who me?, oh yeah of course, no problem, I'll be happy to move"....so I grabbed my belongings and tripped over a bunch of ladies feet trying to get out of the row under  the blanket of darkness (praise God!) bathed in worship lights. Eventually I was spit out into the open aisle next to the seats as I turned and headed for the back doors and I held my bible in front of my eyes so no one could see that I was childishly about to let the floodgates open ....I made it to the doors past the sanctuary towards the coat area before i started to openly cry and hyperventilate with no solid reason of explaining why I was doing this to anyone. . Again, embarrassed....just wanting to be alone....a woman spotted me and Im trying to tell her, remarking  that  I know its so childish and not a big deal at all, and such a ridiculous thing to cry over....its just all the other stuff leading up to it that was just TOO much to explain in the moment. How would you? So you don't, you just are embarrassed over how dramatic you appear to be....over and over and over again. Lord when does this chapter of my life end?

The woman  took my gift bag and set it on what was probably the only open seat left in the very far end of the back. I got myself together .....I  really wanted to leave, i stood there and really thought about leaving, ..It  would have been  so easy to  escape to my car at that point so I could cry and feel sorry for myself and save myself the embarrassment of staying there. I ran into a gal from our small group who was cleaning the bathroom. I think she said something about Satan attacking me...maybe it was someone else, I don't even remember.  Whoever said it, I knew they were right in that moment, that satan was  trying to isolate me and he'd been successful at it in many chapters of my life.  So I walked to my seat and just put my head down and my hands on the chair in front of me and just cried while all the women around me worshiped. The poor woman sitting near me was probably so confused. She did a great job just avoiding looking at me. I did okay during the conference, I had my moments but I held it together the best I could. I had taken handfuls of kleenex during breaks and stuffed my pockets before I went back in.  I even cracked jokes and made the lady next to me laugh during the actual conference....because that's what I do. Most comedians are just deeply hurt sinners, humor is how we manage to cope in life...we just get really good at it.

I ate lunch alone, because of where I ended up sitting my section was the first to actually get lunch. My small group was a few sections over. I was sitting next to a few girls who were chatting about another girl they knew who they spotted crying and I heard the one woman exclaim "yknow, shes just very dramatic".....and I teared up a little and just ate my sandwich with my head down..."Jen don't you dare lose it here, they don' need more drama queens" Just swallow that lump building in your throat and focus on your sandwich". Ten minutes later one of the women looked at me and sad, "hey you were the one that had to leave your seat weren't you?"...I said "yea its okay though, I found another seat"....she said "that's not right though, that wasn't right". I  said "no,its really okay...Im so glad theres so many women here it was hard to get seats' and I held my tears in....but at the same time I totally meant what I sadi. You see how I realize how irrational this sadness is?  I went back to the second set of worship and just cried for Jesus to heal my stupid broken heart. I probably cursed Satan and then  I just pressed my face into his chest as I closed my eyes and I weeped for many songs, too weak to even raise my hands and sing.

That gal from the prison ministry, she found me during one of our breaks and told me God wanted to bless me...and she gifted me a beautiful quilted bag she had made with the Harvest logo on it. That made me tear up too as I hugged her...at least she gave me a good excuse to be teary eyed: gratitude, and blessing. Small acts like that where God is telling me "Im right here"

I did make my way over to my group to chat during breaks...I wasn't going to be isolated...I know I'm under spiritual attack and I know God is allowing it....as much as I wanted to stay far away...I wasn't going to. By 3 pm though I was emotionally exhausted. I'd survived the day....the glimpses I had flashing through my head of literally every hurt I just outlined here through my church years. Just one snowballed with another one and another one until I realized the gravity of this pain I have and the need to be healed all over again. And if that stuff isn't enough I just think of my mom who I'd like to call and just vent to and I can't. ...that really doesn't help me much but it sure does help the kleenex companies sell their products.  And theres only one person who can handle this- Jesus...you have got this., you have to because Ive tried and I can't. ...please heal me in your will and in your timing...this week is a really good time for me if you are willing....I am REALLY sick of crying and feeling embarrassed. Thank you for giving me only a glimpse of the rejection you faced from the world, which you have overcome. From your own people, your own family...and eventually your own followers. But you stood the test of time and kept your eyes on the cross and accomplished it all...for me. Hallelujah.





.

Me Too Part two

Part 2:

When I was a young kid living in Oak Park Michigan, I remember neighbor kids  having videotapes of explicit pornography. When their parents weren't home, a group of neighborhood kids would gather around these kids  giant living room  television consoles  to take in the terribly bad acting and sexual acts between the men and women porn stars who were paid for their obscene performances. Kids can be  curious, and parents can be negligent.

When I was a young  kid, I remember going to the drive in movie theater with my mom and step dad to see movies like "Porkys", and "Cheech and Chong", "Fast times at Ridgemont high" etc etc etc.. When a sexually explicit scene would begin, my mom and stepdad would hold up a large yellow Tupperware bowl full of popcorn between the two front seats they were occupying to prevent my eyes from viewing the content. It never worked, but there was something obviously  in them that knew I shouldn't be watching , because their instinct in the moment was to block me from seeing.

When I was 15,  I went to a Kronk Boxing match event held at  a large hotel in the Detroit area. My moms friend Norman had invited us. They were looking for girls to hold the round cards...you know the "ring girls". My mom volunteered me. I was given a pair of short tight boxing shorts and a tight half shirt and sent to the hotel bathroom for a wardrobe change. I can't remember how much money I made, but it was enough to make me want to come back  and work another event.  I was so  uncomfortable  the second time I went,  I  hung up my short shorts and my  short lived "career" as a ring girl. 

My mom didn't mean any harm, she was just really excited that I had the physique to do something like this. She was always a little insecure about her own build. She grew up in a very different era than I did and just parented to the best of her ability in the culture we were in. Not long after this, I started wearing alot of baggy clothes, tie dye shirts and such. She could never understand why I would waste "such a body" with my ugly clothes. I didn't really understand it either. But it more or less protected me from sexually explicit comments I'd receive as a young teenager.

Daytona Beach:

Before my baggy clothes phase, I remember going to Daytona beach with my mom and getting catcalled by men old enough to be my father. It was disturbing. And it wasn't every man, but one in a thousand is enough to make you sick about the world you live in. When you're a kid, you want to believe that most grownups have it all together and are safe people. When you're a young teen and that stuff happens to you, you realize how corrupt and unstable the world really is.

Dunkin Donuts:

When I had just turned 16 years old,  I told my mom I was spending the night at a friends house. The friend told her dad she was spending the night at my house. We both spent the night on acid and ended up in the parking lot of farmer Jacks and Dunkin Donuts In Union Lake, Michigan. We terrorized the midnight shift at Farmer jacks by running around the store acting like clowns. It may have been fun for some of them to witness such a goofy site of two girls laughing their heads off and trying to make the fruit and vegetables speak to each other in an elaborate display in the produce section. In the parking lot , we ran amok, feeding  seagulls until they nearly attacked us because of we were holding large bags of potato chips and they seemingly were multiplying and coming from every direction . Later into the night, we sat on the curb facing an empty parking lot  and talked about life for hours and hours. We were so exhausted from our "trip" that by 5 am  we sat in my parked  car sitting in front of the  Dunkin donuts.We were  waiting for  a reasonable time we  could both go home and get some rest without raising any red flags to my mom and her dad  we'd been up to no good.

A man in his late forties or early  fifties parked his car  not far away from us and  noticed this car of two giggling young girls. He  came over to find out what we were doing. We talked for 15 or 20 minutes and had a decent light hearted  conversation. He said he was up early to go fishing.  To us, he seemed like my friends dad and had been carrying himself that way  in our conversation, so neither of us felt threatened at all.  And then in an instant,  that  changed. This strange perverse   darkness came over him, I'll never forget it, it was palpable . I was sitting  in the drivers seat of my car  while my friend was sitting in the passenger seat. The man was standing outside of the passenger side window which was rolled down. He suddenly had  this dark and perverse snickery  twitch that came over his face right   before  he said these words to  us:

 "I live just down the road, and I have cake at my house. You girls can come over and take a shower so I can  watch your naked glistening bodies". It was  disturbing, and my poor  friend was in  closer proximity to him than I was. I quickly rolled up her window as she  hit the seat lever to push her body down just to get away from his face. I was in shock at his words....he had just been so nice to us, he was so old! neither of us were prepared for what he said. And his offer was cake? ...seriously Cake?? You know what that does to a girls insecurity to hear that some pervert thinks she can be lured in by some old cake?! I pulled my car out of the spot and drove away as fast as I could. 

We saw him a year later in a Rams horn restaurant late at night on a weekend. He was sitting with another man. He didn't notice us, but we noticed him. My friend walked over to his table, told him how disgusting he was and she spit in his face, then we left. I guess she felt better...the whole thing was disturbing.

I wore baggy clothes, tie dye shirts and wrapped flannels around my waist after that episode for a year or so...it was easy because Nirvana had just introduced  grunge to the culture.  

Virgin Islands:

When I was 17 years old, my aunt had her wedding in St. Thomas. She was married in a synagogue on a mountaintop with bare feet and  sand floors. She and her husband had become close with a British couple they'd met on vacation years earlier who were in attendance. Their reception was on a mountaintop. I'd been hanging out with her new husbands   niece that week . This girl was from Seattle, and just a few years older than I . Kind of a hardcore gothic girl. During the reception, I wandered into one of the ladies rest rooms. My aunt and uncles travelling  British friend  followed me in and pinned me up against a wall and started kissing me. He told me he had been watching me at dinner and knew there were sparks between us. I was 17, I told him I didn't see sparks between us but rather I'd seen his wife. I left the bathroom and confided what happened to this girl from Seattle. She thought we had to take advantage of the situation. So she invited him out with us the next night to use him to pay for everything. It was a terrible plan, it was her way to flip the situation to give us control. I was so uncomfortable going in to the night.  We ended up ditching him early on and eventually found ourselves at a local club in the mountains with a mixture of tourists and  islanders. 

The Seattle girl met an islander at the club she wanted to leave with , and told me to just get a ride back to the hotel with his friend. This scrappy little islander drove me back to the hotel and then  followed me into my  room before he chased me around for almost 15 minutes.  I was terrified and ready to stab this guy with a pen I found on the desk. I thought I was going to  be raped. I scared him enough with my pen slashing that he left the room. I'm thankful to this day that I'm 5 foot 8 and he wasn't bigger than me. 

Rave:

When I was 19 years old, I was living in Mount Pleasant after my second year at Central Michigan University. I was renting a room from a friend. We were friends with alot of people that lived there and would have parties often. I remember people getting so drunk they'd end up making out with each other. It was hookup culture on steroids, bisexuality, homosexuality, just plain sexuality on full display. I was always disturbed by it. I loved my friends, but I didn't want to make out with any of them. I'd leave when it got to that drunken orgy point and go home or just walk downtown  by myself to clear my head.

That same summer, my roommate took me to a midnight rave in downtown Detroit.  She introduced me to some of her friends , one of them introduced us to one of the DJ's. . He offered me ecstasy which I'd never taken before. He handed me  me four pills  and told me I could take them all. I didn't know four tabs was 4 too many, most people would consume one. I have flashes of memory from the rest of that night. I remember him leading me away through some rooms that were empty, and I remember I wasn't at the rave anymore but at this guys house. I don't to this day have any idea where it was. I just know it was outside of Detroit somewhere. He raped me repeatedly throughout the night. I was completely incapacitated. My friend,  realizing I was no longer at the rave, just left and headed back to Mount Pleasant. She wasn't even concerned that I disappeared,  she never called the police. She just left. 

The next day, and it was pretty late in the day  when I started to get my head back, I was in this persons house. He offered to drive me back to Mount Pleasant and I agreed because I had no other option. It was an awkward drive. When we got there, he wouldn't leave. He introduced himself to my friends and  he actually set up his speakers and equipment in the parking lot where I lived to give my friends a show. I just went upstairs, locked my door and went to bed.

I met my first ex husband a week later. He had a van and I was ready to leave Michigan. I think my heart secretly yearned for a boyfriend to leave with so I wouldn't be exposed to the world of men without a reason and excuse not to engage with them. He was a layer of protection.  My ex husband wasn't a rapist, or a pervert as far as I could tell. He just happened to be a drug addict. its strange to see the hardness I had in my life that followed after all these events in my life. I never wanted to be controlled by men, so I was the one dealing the drugs, in charge of my relationships. I didn't like feeling controlled, so my other option was to always be the one in charge...that didn't end well either. Thats another story to tell later.

Life of Hardknocks:

Life continued to be pretty hard after that for many many years. Eventually I was divorced. In the  years that followed  I was a single mom working two waitressing jobs just to make ends meet. I eventually went back to college and completed my bachelors degree in finance. I felt I had really "pulled myself up by the bootstraps". I had MANY walls and would describe myself as a hard hearted ardent christian hating liberal at that time in my life. Why did I hate Christians? I don't really know. I believed many stereotypes about them and they were my political enemy who got in the way of progress. I was just lost and broken. And the enemy of lost and broken unrepentant shame filled people is Gods people. I didn't even know any Christians to have a reason to hate them...I just did. I thought they were stupid, gullible, unenlightened, racist, bigoted people.

Universalism and "enlightenment"

My last year or so of college around 2004,  I met a man who "pastored" a newly progressive church in West Michigan. He was in my yoga class at the Y, he was probably in his early forties and he had frosted highlights in his hair. I thought he was gay when I befriended him. He wasn't; he was actually married with kids. But that didn't stop him from inviting me to lunch to pursue our friendship. I was genuinely confused and intrigued when I learned he was the pastor of a church. But he explained he really was more of a Buddhist/ Atheist and his goal was to enlighten his flock that the bible was simply a book full of stories made by men. We talked for hours and he would often tell me he was going to quit pastoring and start a business with me "life coaching" people. I thought it was a fabulous idea. In hindsight, I can see how ridiculous it is that I actually believed I had any business life coaching anyone. I wasn't even healed myself , apparently i was good at hiding it.  We talked over coffee, he met me at the beach, he even invited my kids and I over while his wife was out of town to swim at their pool.  We were walking from his home to the beach to swim and he told me how sexually attracted he was to me but he knew his limits. He told me how intriguing single moms were.  He asked if I would come back later that night ,without my kids,  to watch this new show he loved. It was Sacha Baron Cohens new show, " Da Ali G show". I declined and stopped talking to him. . He ended up losing his "church" and now sells his wisdom online....mostly to lost  single mothers women from what I can see. 

First professional Job:

In 2005 I was working at my first professional job. A company we owned was located in the same building. I was friends with one of the sales guys, who again, was probably in his late forties and married. He invited me to lunch one day. We went and he decided he wanted to make a pit stop so he could show me his new house, this large building he'd  renovated to a large space he could rent out for weddings and such (today its used for democratic fundraisers). As soon as we walked in the building, I could sense  that weird uncomfortable dark perverse vibe I'd experienced before. I was relieved   when we left and I was back in my cubicle at work. Not long after that, maybe just a few weeks later,  he came to my cubicle to tell me about some giant big wheel he found on the internet he really wanted to show me. He had the page saved on his computer in his office. So I followed him to his office and he closed the door behind me...then he asked me for a hug, again that dark perverse snicker was there. I was glad the door wasn't locked. I declined the hug, and I got out of there, and I never talked to him again. 

Second Professional Job

In the last job I held, one of the guys would always ask  me and another gal to skip as we walked through the manufacturing plant. Of course we never did, we'd just laugh. One of the guys I talked to , like many of the employees, literally said to me in the middle of a conversation at an employee Christmas event..."I just want to give it to you so hard right now"....we were having a normal conversation, and that's what came out of his mouth. I told him he needed to find a good bible believing church. He never said stuff like that to me again. 

When Jeff and I were dating long distance....I was still working for the pharmaceutical plant. I'm a very friendly, pretty open easy to talk to person. I talk to everyone. One day, someone came in and said "the garbage guy is looking for you"....seriously, the garbage guy I'd talked to once. Later that year,  my landscaper guy sent me ridiculous text messages trying to hook up with me. I remember asking Jeff "Do I just give off slutty vibes?" I decided some things needed to change after a lifetime of inappropriateness. So much needed to change.  Sadly there's SO many more stories in between these stories...theres just TOO many to keep going so i'll switch gears here.. 

At this point I'd like to offer some   suggestions in  avoiding these situations  in life and to prevent yourself from becoming the target of sexual rape, abuse, and harassment. I've been on this earth for 42 years and I've learned a few things.

1. Be smart- its an ugly broken world so stay on guard. No one can be naive anymore

2. Don't do drugs, don't drink until you're incoherent...you avoid 90% of these situations by just avoiding being part of the drug and party culture. Enjoy a beer or a glass of wine ONLY when you're with people you know and trust.

3. Don't hang out with married men alone EVER. Don't drive in cars with them, go to lunch alone with them, meet in their office with them. Just don't. And if you're a married woman, just don't be with any man who isn't your husband alone...EVER. Don't share a ride with him to a company lunch, a company event. ride in your own car, let him take his own car, not worth saving a few bucks in gas.

4. Talk about Christ often . He's a real crowd clearer for perverts. If someone still persists, give them information for a good gospel preaching church and tell them they need Jesus, TODAY.

5. I call any male friend of mine 20 years older than me "Pops"...every one. I actually have alot of older male friends because I play pickleball. I've only had one situation that made me uncomfortable, every else is a gem....I call them all pops....they're all old enough to be my pops...almost all  of them treat me like a daughter and well calling them "pops" just establishes that I view them that way.

6. Call people out in love when they cross the line, rebuke them to their face instead of behind their back. If you think they might be an actual assault threat, tell your HR department if youre at work, and  the women you work with. If you're assaulted or you believe someone is a danger, CALL the POLICE and file a report.

7. Don't believe that porn is good for your relationship, its not. Its perverse and its harmed and destroyed families and our culture. Our culture is sick because we believed for so long that it was harmless. Its not. Dont fall for the lie.

8. Don't meet with any man alone...not even a male pastor...always meet with pastors who bring their wives along for counseling. Just don't give an opportunity for bad things to happen, ever.

9. Choose wise friends, your party friends aren't usually your real friends.

10. Don't always believe people who blame Christian men for everything. The same people who were inappropriate with me through the years are the same people I see lam blasting Christian Republican white men as being evil. We're all prone to evil....and  hypocrisy evidently. 

Since I've become a christian 11 years ago now this season....I've never had a sexual advancement made towards me from a christian man in any church i've attended or my  circle of Christian friends. Not once. I know that's not true for everyone because I've heard other women with bad experiences with men in their faith circles.....that has NOT been my experience, not once. I can attest OUTSIDE my christian circle...it was CONSTANT.  So be intentional, and smart..especially when raising your kids! Talk to them!