2020 Countdown to Christmas
- Tiffany Millen
- Dec 11, 2020
- 26 min read
Updated: Dec 18, 2020
When I see a Muslim, I can’t help but think of my friend Shabana. As I wandered around Costco yesterday, I found myself choking back tears. Reminders of her were everywhere. As I thought about that, it occurred to me that Shabana has become the filter through which I see people of her faith. The filter of stereotype has been replaced for me by a real representative who just happened to be one of the most incredible people I have ever had the privilege to know. When I got to my car, I let the tears fall. I thought about all of the wonderful people I know, and I wondered to myself, “What if…”
What if when people saw a middle eastern family, they thought of my Iranian friend Mozh and her warm and kind husband Dar. Do they fit the stereotype I would have of an Iranian family if I had never met a family from Iran?
As I went through my entire list of friends, I found that none of them fit a stereotype. Yet someone somewhere must have fit that stereotype or how would it exist? Could it be that we have taken some of the worst representatives of a religion, or culture, or people group, and used that as the filter through which we see the strangers moving around us?
I’m not suggesting that we are all bigots who constantly judge people who are different from us. We aren’t. While we may notice differences, we mostly just see people, and we know that people are people, more alike than different. Yet stereotypes remain.
For the next 14 days as we countdown to Christmas, I want to introduce you to some of my incredible friends who challenge all the stereotypes. I probably should have started a little sooner – I may have to make it an annual tradition.
What stereotypes come to mind when you think of a Native American man… a black man… a Muslim… a Sikh… a Jew… a Christian… an immigrant family from the middle east… a 20-something… a teen… While none of these characteristics define a person, stereotypes are often how a group of people is judged and that does impact the individuals who find themselves in each group.
Day 1: What if…
What if Mozh and Dar were the poster family for immigrants. Having grown up in Iran during the 60s and 70s, they came to America as a young married couple to raise their family. They are the warmest, kindest, most gentle people you could ever meet. While they have adopted the culture of their new home in many respects, they still have a rich Persian heritage which they value and long to share so that others can understand and see its beauty. Like many families, they thought they were done having children when they were blessed with a son. In addition to being a Muslim Iranian-American, Haneef also happens to have down syndrome. Haneef’s experience in the special education system prompted Mozh to seek other ways to educate her son, but sadly, she found very few opportunities. She is an incredible, tenacious advocate when she has to be, but it is packaged in a very mild, humble lady who has a giant heart.
Though they did not have a graduate on the platform, they showed up to our graduation in 2016 to support our program and our graduates. During that ceremony, the 20 graduates were given an opportunity to go into the audience and present roses to people who had been a part of their education or an influence in their life. In the commotion of all those young people getting off stage, collecting the roses that they needed from the vases at the front, fanning out into the audience, and then the rush to return to their seats on the platform, one person was overlooked in that rose ceremony – me. Though I had two graduates of my own that night, I received no rose. It was a chaotic moment in the ceremony and no one even noticed. When the graduation ended and everyone headed to the lobby for the reception, Heneef saw that a few roses remained unclaimed in those vases. He collected one, walked over, and presented it to me. A piece of my heart will always belong to 16-year-old Haneef.
True to form, Mozh and Dar insisted on helping with clean-up that night. It was the last time I saw them as they moved unexpectedly that summer. But I still receive a text from Mozh once a year... on Christmas day.
Day 2: What if...
What if the next time someone heard a mom in the grocery store speaking in her native Spanish and trying to corral her rambunctious sons, they thought of my friend Sonia.
Sonia is a Catholic who grew up in Guadalajara, Mexico. I don’t know how she met her husband but she married an American and they have 5 children. She speaks very good English but she lacks confidence in her ability. Her oldest will be graduating from high school this year and her youngest is now 9, but not too many years ago, she had little kids, 4 of them boys all close in age. Her daughter was always the perfect picture of grace and decorum. A shy bookworm who served as a mini-mom when needed. The boys were full of energy and capable of running afoul of the rules if left to themselves. In other words, they were pretty typical little boys. (Sorry guys but you just can’t escape some stereotypes).
Sonia enjoys showing her love and appreciation in tangible ways. She gave me a lovely bracelet one Christmas that I wore all the time. It had a collection of letters with character traits etched on them. I took it to be a somewhat random bunch of letters as it spelled THERM with a heart at the end. I liked it so much, I looked it up on Amazon to see what else might be available in the line. Only then did I realize I’d been reading it wrong. That heart was actually standing in for the O in M❤️️THER. Shabana, a Muslim from India, and Sonia, a Catholic from Mexico, shared a special bond. Shabana says it best:
“My darling friend of another faith gifted me with hand sewn hijabs! This is what makes America so great! Come to think of it, faith is what brought us together!!”
“When your everyday church going Catholic friend, who goes to 3 stores to find halal chicken and picks up pickled vegetable and tea so you feel at home, makes you lunch, you know the world is full of AMORE.”
In addition to being a wonderful friend, Sonia is an incredible mom who has homeschooled all five of her children, navigating a charter homeschool system that has presented many challenges along the way.
Her oldest son has some learning difficulties which require him to have an annual evaluation to assess progress and set goals. A year ago, the charter program decided that they were going to pay for him to attend a special private school that they thought could better address his academic needs. This seemed like a really good thing initially. For a public charter to pay for services from a special private school was something neither of us had ever seen before. Sonia went to visit the school. I was shocked as she described what she saw there. To her horror, she saw padded rooms where children in restraints were placed when they were determined to be a danger to themselves or others. This school was obviously for children who had far more than academic issues like her son’s. She called the charter to decline the offer only to learn that she had no choice. She either had to accept their placement or decline all services to address her son’s learning difficulties. It seems Sonia’s language barrier may have been an issue when she sat in the annual meeting to discuss potential interventions. The school was legally required to offer an interpreter but they didn’t. Thankfully, we were able to get a consultation with a professional advocate who generously volunteered her time so that Sonia and her husband could get the information they needed make the best decision for their son. What happened to Sonia could have happened to anybody. Thankfully, Sonia did her homework before she allowed her son to go into a situation that could have been very destructive. Good moms like Mozh and Sonia come from all backgrounds. The Old Testament book of Proverbs describes them this way: “Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her. 'Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all'.”
Day 3: What if...
What if everyone could experience first-hand the kind of love and acceptance that flows from a heart that sees only the best in them?
I can tell you that it can change people. It can make them aspire to be better than they are.
The people in the inner circle of our lives aren’t well suited to fill that role. The best mentor is someone on the periphery who has no obligation, no reason to notice, but they choose you. They make you feel seen. They support and encourage and build you up until you start to believe in yourself. That is who Frank is to me.
Frank is in his mid-70s, a few years older than my father. He looks forward to the day in the not-too-distant future when he can retire to the wide-open spaces of Montana. Frank is very much at home behind the wheel of his pick-up truck, pulling his fifth wheel trailer.
He didn’t have a successful career. He had many. He went where the opportunities of his life took him, and he has been all over the world doing all sorts of things. Educated in private schools as a child, he spent time at UCLA, picked up PTSD serving in Vietnam before the U.S. was even officially in the war, and eventually found himself working for Republican politicians in Sacramento back when Republicans were still relevant here. He has had business dealings abroad and been honored for his work distributing food to the needy here at home. One of his favorite things to do is attend conferences where young adults are training for mission work and pour out love and encouragement as a friend and mentor.
Frank wasn’t always such a great mentor. Frank managed to squeeze in 3 marriages and an addiction to alcohol during his younger years. Today he is married to his 4th and final wife - a wonderful lady who is undoubtedly his better half. Frank proves that our past doesn’t define our present. That we don’t have to be perfect to be used of God in mighty ways.
Frank’s life may seem fairly stereotypical until you realize that the retiree in that pick-up truck dreaming of Montana; the young man making his mark on the Republican political scene in the capital of California; and the little boy growing up in those primarily white private schools happened to be an African American. Some might think that Frank just doesn’t know he is black, but that isn’t true at all. He grew up in a time and a culture where not knowing was not a possibility. Frank experienced first-hand the segregated South of the 60s briefly when he was in the military. He has lived his whole life bumping into people for whom it was “a problem,” but he has lived by a rule his father taught him, “Make sure it stays their problem. Never let it become your problem.” He grieves for all the things that hurt the African American community and he gets angry at injustice wherever he sees it. Frank is someone who has no room for pretense. He has a colorful vocabulary and part of his
authenticity is his willingness to use it. For me, Frank transcends age and race and takes on a mystical quality because Frank is willing to love lavishly even when it makes no sense. Frank is that rare safe place where you can feel free to be yourself and know you will still be fully accepted. When I am with Frank, the tightrope disappears, and the ever-present tension I don’t even notice until it is gone, melts away. Frank inspires me to look around, notice someone on the periphery, and be Frank to them. #BeLikeFrank
Day 4: What if...
What if everything you think you know when you look at a person is wrong?
No list of my friends who crush stereotypes could be complete without Debra. After God made Debra, He truly threw away the mold. From the moment you meet her, she inspires intrigue. She is super friendly and encouraging but absolutely no-nonsense. On the surface, you see an African-American woman with an African inspired sense of style. Her hair is always up in a colorful wrap. Her ultra-modest dress tells you there is likely a religious aspect to her fashion sense. She wears long jumpers/tunics/dresses often layered over tops and leggings or pants. The day I met her, she explained that her daughters would miss the first day of classes due to a conflict with the observance of a holy day. Knowing there were no holy days on my Christian calendar in September, I assumed she was probably a Muslim. Her covered hair seemed to support the notion. As I sat with a couple of Muslim ladies later that day, I mentioned the potential conflict which prompted them to grab their phones to see what holy day that could be. It was on their calendar but it wasn’t a day that had any sort of observance. I was even more curious about Debra. Debra is Type A all the way. She is disciplined and does her research to avoid surprises. If there are boxes to check, she wants to know what they are so she can get started right away. Navigating high school as a homeschooling mom can be a minefield. She wants her children to have every option open to them when it is time for college so she makes sure she has all the i’s dotted and t’s crossed – pity anyone who gets in her way.
She is passionate and all-in. She works tirelessly for the causes she cares about and one of those happens to be the African American community. It is her community albeit an adopted community.
Debra was raised by her German-American mother influenced by her German immigrant grandparents. They managed to escape Germany during WWII. (That is a story I would love to hear but I’m not sure Debra even knows the details.) She was close to her grandparents but only learned in adulthood that they did not approve of the inter-racial relationship that had resulted in her birth. Her German heritage undoubtedly influences her personality.
Her religious upbringing was Catholic but today her and her husband are raising their daughters as active and observant members of their synagogue. Her Jewish faith definitely orders her life and informs her strong sense of morality. Her reliance on God has been a journey as unique as she is. In between Catholicism and Judaism, Debra found time for Protestantism and served in a Baptist church where she volunteered at VBS and apparently encountered Christian textbook publishers because she knows them well and uses the more academically rigorous ones. Debra works for a statewide organization that helps African American owned businesses start and grow. This gives her access to leaders in the community as well as knowledge of challenges as they arise. She was able to get us a radio interview calling the community to action to defeat a bill that would have hurt many homeschoolers in this state but could have disproportionately impacted black families. Debra and her husband enjoy walking hand in hand through their suburban neighborhood. A less imposing couple would be hard to imagine. They are middle aged, conservatively dressed, quiet, respectful people. Yet they have encountered suspicion and racism.
Debra is a great mom and has three extremely polite, intelligent daughters. All three of them seem to be her mini-me.
I saw a quote today attributed to a famous French author but I suspect it was falsely credited. It said, “We are like books. Most people only see our cover, the minority read only the introduction, many people believe the critics. Few will know our content." Debra is fascinating read with more plot twists than a best seller. She is my only Type A German-African-American-Catholic-Baptist-Jewish friend. I’ll be very surprised if I ever have another.
Day 5: What if…
What if that young man sleeping in his car doesn’t have a drug or alcohol addiction? What if that 20-something living in a tent in the rain isn’t mentally ill? What if he is no different than your son except he doesn’t have you?
I met Jacob when he was 20 years old. Jacob grew up in a family that on the surface looked very much like mine. They were church going people. His mom ran an Awana club and homeschooled all 6 of her children from Kindergarten. Sound familiar? But unlike my family, Jacob’s mom suffered from a personality disorder. Jacob was treated as the ‘black sheep’ for as long as he can remember. He was made to think he was some sort of mistake that should never have happened. He was given harsh punishments for minor infractions. The abuse and neglect took many forms. Marking one child as a bad child and making them the target is common in mothers with her defect.
When he was younger, they did school together and she made sure they excelled in extras like music and Awana. He plays at least 4 instruments. When he got to high school, his mother could no longer maintain the lie, and she gave up on the facade of a fine church going woman. She stopped actively educating her children so he was on his own. He did an incredible job as he is academically advanced.
Her personality disorder lends itself to all sorts of dysfunction. She doesn’t trust doctors so injuries and broken bones went untreated. If the chiropractor couldn’t fix it, it just didn’t get fixed despite the chiropractor’s referral to an MD.
She imposed strict dietary restrictions on her family diagnosing her children with food allergies they do not have. A classic symptom of her condition is an extreme fear of abandonment so she has manipulated the situation in her home making it nearly impossible for her children to ever find lives on their own. Jacob’s oldest sister is now in her late 20s and has never escaped. Jacob’s dad is a loving father, but he is so passive, he won’t stand up to their mother. Though still technically married and living under the same roof, Jacob’s mother moved a much younger man into their home many years ago who she treats as sort of a guru. Jacob’s home life was chaotic to put it mildly. But finding a way out was very difficult. He had worked for businesses where his family had connections, but how does someone with no way to prove any sort of education get a job that pays enough to support themselves? Though he had self-educated through high school, he had no physical diploma and no transcript. He is extremely intelligent and mechanically gifted. He can learn anything and he can fix anything. But how do you have the confidence to market yourself or your skills with no proof of even a high school education?
Jacob had a friend he met through on-line gaming who offered him a couch in his studio apartment. With no car and no job, Jacob moved 4 hours away to build a life for himself. It took serious courage. He was the first in his family to leave home. He was able to get a job as a driver that included the use of a company van, and he had a friend locally with an extra vehicle he was able to use. On nights when the couch was not available, he slept in his car. There were weeks early on when he didn’t have money for food. He ate Ramen noodles for so many consecutive meals that he started to feel sick. Apparently, Ramen doesn’t contain enough nutrients to stay healthy. Who knew? In the spring when his friend was evicted due to planned renovations in the apartment, Jacob relocated to a tent in our backyard. He stayed until he was able to get a few roommates and rent a place of his own. Unfortunately, the rain came just ahead of his planned move that fall.
A year has passed. Jacob once again found himself homeless briefly this fall as a roommate got married and moved out so he needed to relocate again. With rent on an apartment exceeding $1500, it is hard for him and his roommates to qualify. He spent a few weeks living in a shed until a new apartment could be secured.
Because Jacob was homeless, he qualified for financial aid for college independent of his parents. Unfortunately, proving he was homeless was no small task. While we were able to do it for Jacob, it would be difficult for someone without his connections. Jacob started college when he was still living in a tent. He is now a Sophomore. His major is Bio-Chemistry. His goal is to go to medical school after finishing his bachelor’s. He is maintaining a 4.0 GPA. Finals were last week. He got the highest score in his class on his Chemistry final. He slept in a shed from mid-October to mid-November and still managed an A in difficult classes like Trigonometry and Chemistry. His ability to self-educate has come in handy now that everything is on-line. Science and math don’t really lend themselves to the virtual environment so it has been a struggle, but he has succeeded. He is a full-time student and he works an 11 PM to 7 AM shift for 32 hours a week. Jacob just turned 23. His life is far from that of a carefree college student. He is incredibly burdened for his siblings who live at home. He shares an apartment with one of his sisters and her husband. He applied for a job for his younger brother, did the phone interview on his brother’s behalf, and was hired. His brother came for training and was ready to move when his background check came back with a glitch. The social security number his mother had provided was no good. She doesn’t have his Social Security card. With Covid, he has not yet been able to get it straightened out. It has been 2 months. Who knows if the job will still be waiting when he can finally take it. In the meantime, Jacob and his sister are left sharing rent on an apartment with an empty room meant for their brother.
This past summer Jacob bought a totaled car at an on-line auction. He completely repaired it on his own and got it re-certified with a salvage title. He now drives a 2008 Lexus completely debt free.
Jacob is someone any mother would be extremely proud of. I consider him a son and I couldn’t be more proud. His mother still can’t acknowledge his accomplishments.
Jacob is going to have a great life, but the ‘what ifs’ haunt me. There are no easy answers. The best we can do is be aware of the young people around us. Jacob and his siblings sat in church every Sunday. I’m sure we’ve all seen kids whose situation caused concern but knowing how or when to intervene is complicated. If you know of young adults like Jacob who need a little help navigating the college system, I've gotten some experience over the years and I'm always happy to put it to use.
Day 6: What if...
What if the little girl with the blond pigtails standing 3rd from the left in the front row of your son's
2nd grade class photo is actually being groomed as a commodity to be traded the minute the value of her free labor is exceeded by something her father wants more?
Anna (pronounced Aw-nah/Ah-nah) was that little girl once. She sat in classrooms with children whose parents had no idea the little girl skipping rope at recess had a father who was being hunted by the FBI for murders in two countries.
Anna was not your stereotypical second grader, but there is very little I could say that has not already been written about Anna's story. Her family has been the subject of many books. A simple google search of her name will turn up interviews on multiple continents with dozen of stories in print media, news casts, talk shows, you tube videos, radio shows, podcasts, and blogs. Anna and I were born the same year and wore the same blond pigtails but that is where the childhood similarities end. Our lives would intersect in college where Anna would once again sit in a classroom pretending to be someone other than the polygamist's daughter. Ervil LeBaron fathered over 50 children and was responsible for at least half that many murders. Unfathomably, those two lists overlap.
If you want an incredibly inspiring read of victory over the most dysfunctional of all childhoods, pick up Anna's book, "The Polygamist's Daughter."
The one thing I've never seen Anna talk about publicly is a phenomenon I suspect impacts many childhood victims who grow up bouncing from one trauma to the next far outside the mainstreams of society. It is difficult to articulate but Anna spent years feeling like an imposter who had no legitimate claim to normalcy. For Anna, well after she became a housewife raising 5 kids in suburbia, she felt as though normal life was a role she was playing rather than the place she belonged.
There were no shortcuts on Anna's journey. She trudged through the hard work of healing one heart-wrenching counseling session at a time. Today she encourages others to make the journey.
This is not the story I had planned to tell today, but it turns out 14 original stories in 14 days was a little ambitious. I suspect this won't be the only time I come up short since this week I'm working more than usual, and next week I'll be doing lots of last minute holiday prep.
Anna tells her story better than I ever could. Pick up her book and be
inspired.
Day 7: What if...
What if that mom who fills the whole row at church with children dressed in perfectly coordinated outfits is actually decades deep into an abusive marriage? What if she is trapped as she is dependent on her abuser for everything? What if the church leadership is aware of the situation but they put the onus back on her to simply do better so her husband will want to do better? What if that church community is the center of her world – her kids’ school, their friendships, her friendships - all emanate from that single source? What if no one believes it could be as bad as she says because her husband is not only a fantastic liar, but he is also completely blind? How could a blind man possibly do all those things?
Darlene’s story is one that needs to be told. It needs to be shouted from the rooftops because there are too many victims just like her… trapped… silent… hopeless.
It is an intimidating story to tell. It is big. It is detailed. There are lots of opportunities to get something wrong, but more than that is the fear that I can’t do it justice. For those on the outside who don’t understand the subculture that breeds this kind of abuse, giving you an accurate picture is a daunting task. For those on the inside who understand that while these situations have been too prevalent, they do co-exist with a great deal of good, characterizing these communities in such a negative light seems patently unfair. Like all endeavors involving humans, it is extremely complex and can’t possibly be adequately conveyed in the space of a few paragraphs. There is no way to be fair to all sides, but one of the big lessons of Darlene’s story is that life is not fair.
Some will look at these photos and assume that Darlene was influenced by a belief system known as “quiver-full theology.” I want to make it very clear that Darlene’s large family was not a result of teaching like we see in the Duggar family. Darlene planned and wanted everyone of her children simply because she loves children.
One of the first defining moments in Darlene's story happened when she was just 10 years old. Her father left for the airport one day and never returned. The small plane he was piloting crashed shortly after take-off. Darlene’s mom was thrust into life as a single parent scrambling to support her 5 small children on her own. Darlene cherishes her memories of her dad. She was the oldest. Her youngest siblings likely have no such memories. Life wasn’t fair right from the beginning.
Darlene and I met in college. I was in my final semester when she was in her first. I was already gone during the second semester of her freshman year when she started dating the son of a family prominent in the organization. He had already finished college and returned home to work where his father had connections. Darlene worked with him and soon developed a relationship which ultimately resulted in her dropping out of college to marry. He had a degenerative eye disease that would continue to rob him of his sight incrementally until there was none left. Darlene became his eyes.
It wasn’t long after the wedding that Darlene began to realize that his sense of entitlement could quickly escalate to abuse. I have no stomach for abuse and most of it isn’t fit for public consumption anyway so suffice it to say the abuse took many forms. Darlene found fulfillment in motherhood and did her best to appease her husband still hoping that he could be the partner in the happy home she had dreamed about all her life. Instead, her ideal family dream continued to devolve into a nightmare.
She approached the leadership of her church for help. The counsel was always the same. “You can’t leave. You have to keep trying. He will come around.” The message is often one of subtle victim blaming: Your behavior determines his behavior. If you just do everything right, you will be rewarded with peace in your home. The peace never came. The abuse continued. Her children were more and more impacted. She tried everything. For nearly 20 years she tried, but eventually, she realized she was out of options. She had to get out.
Getting out… How would she even know where to begin? She had 9 children dependent on her. She ran a small daycare business out of her home, but with so many of her own, she was limited in what she could make. Her husband was their primary means of support. He made sure that he controlled all of the finances. And how exactly do you go about kicking a blind man out of the house? What if he won’t leave? He can’t exactly drive away. How do you escape? You can’t just pack up 9 children and pop in at a friend’s house across town. Her support system at church was there for her initially but pushed for reconciliation. Her husband played his part well. He wrote long confessions taking responsibility for his actions and pledging to do better. Each was expertly crafted to manipulate the situation to his advantage. She gave him chance after chance but he could never keep up the act for long. Narcissism is not something you conquer in a day. The very nature of it is insidious and doesn’t want to be conquered. After months of back and forth, she had little choice. Since she could not reconcile, her church continued to support him, added her to the prayer list, and she went on her way. With that she walked away from the only school her kids had ever known, all their friends, and her community.
I wish I could report that the early days of freedom from her abusive marriage were easy. They were anything but. The next period of her life was rocked by more than a series of unfortunate events. It was a rapid succession of loss and tragedy that would shake her world over and over again. The period of separation before her divorce would be more than 5 years during which she was dependent on her husband for financial support for her children. There is an adage referring to government that says, “If you take their money, you take their control.” In her case, because she needed his money, she could not avoid his manipulation.
A quick summary: She learned that her husband had amassed more than $100K in revolving debt during their marriage that she had no knowledge of. Bankruptcy was the only option. She was advised that the only way a judge would grant it is if they lived under the same roof. Had his wages been garnished, she would have lost her only means to support her children. She had to protect that asset so she had to protect him temporarily.
On more than one occasion he pushed for unsupervised access to his children. This was her worst nightmare as she could not trust what might happen. Her children were not safe alone with him. She had no choice but to concede to other demands to keep him from pushing for custody.
A problem in her sewage system started a flood on her second story which made its way to the basement destroying several areas in between. She moved into a hotel with 9 children. It took months to repair their home. Her daycare business was forced to close. Shortly after moving back into their newly renovated home, her youngest daughter unplugged the pump in the basement putting five bedrooms, bathroom, storage rooms, and furnace room all under water. New flooring, drywall, and trim work all soaking wet. Her daughter has down syndrome and like all children, she can be prone to mischief. In this case, it is unlikely she could appreciate the result of such a seemingly benign act. Four years ago, Darlene lost her mom suddenly and tragically. They were very close. Her mom was her much needed support system when she lost her church community. Her mom was her confidante and safety net throughout her life. She still misses her mom everyday
She received a modest cash inheritance form her mother’s estate which she placed in a safe in her home as she was still technically married and could not risk putting it in a bank where her husband could potentially use it against her. One evening while she attended church, someone broke into her home and took all she had.
During these years, her son suffered a brain injury in a serious car accident. He has since recovered but that experience would be traumatic for any mother. With 9 children, medical emergencies are not uncommon and she has seen more than her share.
A few years ago, her husband filed for divorce. Even though it was his idea, she would still have to prove her case in court. Thankfully she had the confession letters admitting to the years of abuse that he had written when he was trying to get her to come back to him. Still, with many of her children now over 18, he was able to cut off much of her support. It was a small price to pay to be finally rid of him. The divorce was the beginning of a new era in her life. Things were about to turn around for Darlene.
Without his support, she couldn’t afford to keep her home, but she found an old church building for sale. Because of her circumstances, the church board was willing to offer her a good price. She rekindled a friendship with a high school sweetheart who also happened to be a builder. He was able to renovate the building for cost and turn it into a home for her and her children.
Their relationship blossomed and they will celebrate their second anniversary the day after Christmas. Two of her children have also since married.
Darlene’s life has never been easy. The string of misfortune may seem hard to believe. I can assure you it is all true. Those of us who witnessed it could do little more than offer moral support. Darlene’s courage yielded immediate relief from the abuse but not from the manipulation. Getting free of that took many more years. If she hadn’t made that first seemingly impossible step to escape her abuser, she wouldn’t have the wonderful life she enjoys today. Seeing her finally happy and her children able to grow up in a loving, peaceful home was worth all the sorrow along the way. It was all so unfair, but through it all, she never lost faith, she never lost hope, and she never gave up on herself or her children.
In Psalm 30, David describes a time of deep trouble and sorrow. Even in the hardest times, we never walk alone. Notice his declaration at the end. For Darlene, the night was long but morning has come.
1 Lord, I will give you honor. You brought me out of deep trouble. You didn’t give my enemies the joy of seeing me die. 2 Lord my God, I called out to you for help. And you healed me. 3 Lord, you brought me up from the place of the dead. You kept me from going down into the pit.
4 Sing the praises of the Lord, you who are faithful to him. Praise him, because his name is holy. 5 His anger lasts for only a moment. But his favor lasts for a person’s whole life. Weeping can stay for the night. But joy comes in the morning.
Day 8: What if...
What if that big guy at the grocery store staring blankly at all of the options on the shelf with his cart and 4 kids parked right in your way isn’t trying to be inconsiderate? What if he is overwhelmed? He has to get something. His kids need dinner.
In my experience homeschooling dads are some of the best dads on the planet. Often they have given up their career to stay home with their kids full time. I’ve known many over the years. They bring their kids to park day and often watch from the car. They aren’t anti-social it’s just that one dude at a table with 12 ladies is awkward. They are in such a minority that I’ve never had more than one dad show-up at any given time. Isaiah was that dad. He’d been bringing his kids to the park for years and sitting in his car. I would always go over to say hello and we would chat for a few minutes through the window. One day, he got out and I saw him walking up the sidewalk so I walked down to meet him. This giant of a man had tears in his eyes. He had just learned that his wife wasn’t coming home. She was abandoning her family. There were no words I could say. Growing up on the reservation in Montana, Isaiah never would have pictured himself as a homeschooling father of 4. He was a little rough around the edges when they met. She had grown up in a world she considered too safe, and she was looking for a little danger. He fit the bill. He was looking for the opposite. He thought he had hit life’s lottery with a homeschooled, violin-playing bookworm. He loved the idea of a stable life in suburbia, she felt trapped by it. So she walked away leaving him jobless to raise 4 kids on his own. Just navigating the logistics of all the grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, laundry, and homeschooling would have been overwhelming to anyone thrust suddenly into the single parent role, but Isaiah also had to find a job to support them which would likely mean daycare/school for his kids and even more potential upheaval in their lives. He started a prayer list and he and his children would pray about all the things that needed answers. They would cross them off one by one as needs were met. Instead of seeing only the mountain of challenges before them, they started seeing a mountain of miracles pile up as they found their new normal. It was never easy. Isaiah was a single dad in an intact family subculture raising 4 kids on a single income in a dual income world. He found a job, but with an entry level position, finances were very tight. He enrolled in a degree completion program so he could advance up the pay scale. Within a few years he had a bachelor’s degree. His kids were able to continue homeschooling with the help of grandparents until they were ready to transition to brick-and-mortar programs for middle and high school.
Through it all, he never stopped volunteering in the children’s programs at his church. His intellectual interests include such disciplines as philosophy and apologetics. If you are unfamiliar with the mind-numbing nature of these pursuits, suffice it to say I found a whole academic debate on whether or not apologetics can accurately be classified as a discipline. When diving in to such deep topics, nothing is worse than a poorly reasoned argument so I have relied on Isaiah to help our teens navigate these important waters.
His journey has been a process requiring patience, but he has taken it one day at a time. When his oldest turned 18, he was finally able to buy his first home. He has done an astounding job with his kids every step of the way. They are wonderful young men and women who know what it is to rely on God and find Him faithful thanks to the example and dedication of their awesome dad.
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