Recently, I was hurt deeply by a family member who used to be close to me. It would not be appropriate to go into the details in this public forum, but suffice it to say, my heart was gravely wounded. The hurt was so deep, in fact, that at first I did not even understand it myself. Like a bad cut with a sharp knife—it doesn’t even hurt at first. You can see both sides of your living flesh split open and for a millisecond there isn’t even blood, but then. But then. The blood starts to gush and the pain is extreme and you know that this is not a simple wound.

So it was for me. Someone said words to me that didn’t just hurt me in the present day, they reached back literally to my childhood and hurt me there too. I realized the depth of my pain when a friend rushed up to me after church just to give me a hug, say she loved me, and lavish some special treats on Sophia and Ella (in her role as “spiritual grandmother” to our girls). All of a sudden, I started to cry. Just a little. But when I was home, in the privacy of my own room, alone with Fred, I wept.

And I talked—I talked it out. What was hurting me so badly? Why was it hurting me so badly? Then I wept some more. I did what my first book (Peacemaking Women) says to do:

Feel it. Name it. Grieve it. Entrust it to God. And move on.

It sure took me a few days to allow myself to feel it, name it, and grieve it. But the “entrusting to God” part was a little bit of a rough ride too.

At first, I kept trying to excuse the other person. “He’s had a hard life.” “Her childhood was so difficult.” “He has been suffering greatly lately.” “She is very lonely and in a lot of pain.” But somehow, as always, excusing did not move my heart toward being able to actually forgive (either unilaterally—“overlooking” on The Slippery Slope of Conflict, or after going to the person and talking with them—“reconciliation” on the slope).

But do you know what did move my heart toward compassion, grace, even merciful pity, kindness, and a desire to bless? My little kids’ theology class on Easter week. As I read the Scriptures of Christ’s passion, rejection, humiliation, abandonment, and suffering, my heart was pierced. But not pierced by the wounds of a friend; not focused on ME, focused instead on CHRIST. This Glorious Man Who did not count equality with God something to be grasped, but instead made Himself nothing. The One Who became SIN in order to defeat sin, Satan, Hell itself—for us. For you. For me.

Oh, you should have seen the look of shock on the face of “my” kids in that theology class when we read of His time in the garden; his heart was breaking; he was suffering so greatly; and he asked his friends to stay with him and pray. And what did they do? They fell asleep! (Wide eyes. “I can’t believe it!”) And then he went to pray, tears of blood, and his friends, again … SLEEP. (“No way!”) Yes, way. Abandoned even by those closest to Him. But the worst was yet to come.

Not the physical suffering—that was, and is, unimaginable. We all cringed as we talked through the thorns being hammered into His head. There were actual tears as we discussed what it meant to be whipped with a leather whip with sharp rocks and pieces of glass in it. But then, when the Father turned His face away and Jesus was forsaken? It was all just too much to bear. Jesus could have stopped it all! He could have called down legions of angels to rescue Him. It was totally UNFAIR! Jesus had never, NEVER done anything wrong. So why? Why? Why did this have to happen?

For you and for me. To rescue us from our sin, Someone had to pay the price. And Jesus paid that price.

Ah. Now I’m ready. Ready to forgive anyone anything; ready to forgive any hurt in this temporal life—because Jesus forgives me, how could I possibly hold this against you?

If you are hurting today, remember to grieve! Otherwise, we just poison ourselves with our bitterness and become spiritually sick in our stoicism.

Jesus understands your sorrow. He does. He understands it far better than even YOU understand it. And you have a Comforter. A Cleft in the Rock. A Loving Shepherd who cares for His sheep. Not just a Friend, a Brother. A Rescuer. Jesus is your Prophet, Priest, and King. Run to Him. Be amazed by His glory! The Lamb without blemish who appears to have been slain but look! He is alive forever more. Your inheritance—kept for you by God, it will never spoil or perish. Living Water! the Bread of Life.

Even rotten fathers know to give good gifts to their children. How much more your Perfect, Heavenly Father? Remember—behind your temporal suffering now (behind a frowning providence), there is a sure and smiling grace (face).

Heading into my day just a little lighter—
A little less bitter—
A little more focused on the Lamb—

Your friend,
Tara B.

[A re-post from 2010]

I once received an email from a good friend (let’s call her “Mary”), who wanted to know if I had any ideas for how she could minister to someone in her workplace (a Christian parachurch ministry) who was suffering greatly because of a difficult relationship with her parents. Apparently, this coworker was “terrified” of this relationship (to use her own words); she was “distraught” and “destroyed” over how they treated her.

Knowing that some of us have similar difficult relationships in our lives, I thought I would redact the identifying information and share some of my response with you. I hope it is a blessing to you!

Sending my love—
Tara B.

PS
Full disclosure? I actually went looking for my notes from this call because I, too, am currently facing a difficult relationship, and it can be SO exhausting to keep trying to “bear with” certain people in “patient, humble, and gentle love“ (Ephesians 4:1-3). Sometimes I feel like I should get a parade and some sort of GOOD JOB ATTA BOY just for not retaliating and not praying through the imprecatory psalms with them in mind.

But then to go further and actually inconvenience myself and have the difficult conversation? To “bear up under the pain of unjust suffering” (1 Peter 2:19) and do everything I can (Romans 12:18) to “make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bonds of peace” (Ephesians 4:1-3)? Oh, man. It’s just so incredibly hard.

And so I pray … please help us, Lord, to:

• Keep your mercy always in view (Romans 12:1);
• Share in the sufferings of Christ (1 Peter 4:13); and
• Show, by our love, that we really do belong to Christ (John 13:35).

Oh. Man. I’m looking for the lawyer’s “out” for that last bullet … an asterisk, a footnote … something that means I get to love certain people, but other people I get to ignore. Avoid. Refuse to meet with. Ghost. Not care if they live or die.

Deep down, I want permission to hate. But wayyyyyy further deep down, I know better. I know that I am called to love my neighbor (Mark 12:31), my enemy (Luke 6:27), and even the people who confuse me by their silence and grudges because I remember a time (not so long ago!) when our fellowship in the household of God used to be so sweet (Psalm 55:12-14).  

—————————-

Dear Mary,

What an honor it was to read your email and pray for you and your coworker. I am so very sorry that she is enduring such excruciating pain in her relationship with her parents. I hope that I can give you some ideas to consider as you serve her and help her. Perhaps a starting place would be to gently ask her something along the lines of:

Why does the fact that your parents are so incredibly cruel to you “destroy you” and lead you to the point of “not being able to take it”?

Why does it matter so incredibly much?

Yes, our parents’ love is important and it does affect us when they treat us horribly. But … your coworker is a child of God. She has suffered terribly, but suffering is one of the most consistent aspects of life in a fallen world. We long for justice and faithfulness and beauty! But many times in life, we are called to bear up under great suffering as we walk through seasons of injustice, abandonment, and deep darkness. For your friend, her parents’ treatment of her is clearly a major “cross” (John 14:27) that she is called to bear.

So where can she find hope? The Lord. The One True Triune God. As she remembers the gospel of Jesus Christ (Who God is and all that He has already done for her in Christ), her gaze will naturally be drawn more to an eternal perspective. One day. But maybe not today.

If she is truly a Christian, then I am confident that her gaze will ultimately be drawn to an eternal perspective. But I also know that, like all of us, in the shock of the moment when people she has wanted to love (and be loved by) have hurt her again … she may be forgetting eternity. The pain of today often blinds us to the hope of tomorrow (and a million tomorrows once we are Home).

So please grieve with your friend. Lament. When she is distraught beyond words, help her to remember that Jesus is making continual intercession for her (Hebrews 7:25). Help her to be confident that she can trust the One Person, her Perfect Father, who knows her suffering and knows so much more! He will never let her down. Never abandon her. Never give up on her.

At an appropriate time (not usually in the heat of an extreme emotional response), you may have the honor of helping your friend to consider if perhaps her strong emotional reaction to this situation has its roots in desires that have become demands (James 4:1-3). Perhaps she is responding in these ways not because of how her parents are treating her, but because of her heart regarding how her parents are treating her. She’s not getting what she wants (demands / “needs”) regarding a very important thing to her. How does she respond? Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, self-control? Praise the Lord! It’s probably not an idol! Anger, rage, bitterness, malice, slander, filthy language from her lips? Uh-oh. Careful. Our legitimate grief sometimes turns a corner into sinful, judgmental, vengeance and demands for “justice” that seed into bitter roots deep in our hearts.

When that happens, we may have what your friend describes as “anger issues.” We may find ourselves graceless and loveless toward the people who are hurting us (in your case, your friend’s attitude towards her parents). We may also find ourselves “miserable” and “terrified” (to use the descriptive words of your friend). This makes sense because scared people often present as angry people. It’s never easy to be around an angry person! But it sure is wonderful to help angry people learn that, actually, they are scared people. And it is even more wonderful to help them to remember God, worship him rightly, and tell their fears to “Shhh!” because God is with them and for them (Psalm 118:6).

Not to say that any of this is easy … I don’t mean to imply that I know what her previous conversations with her parents have been like … but if I were to venture a guess, I would presume that they have been her trying to lovingly develop a real (sincere, open and honest, genuine) relationship with her parents. And probably, she has (rightly) thought that they could never have a true friendship and experience genuine love if all of the past hurts and offenses were not brought up and dealt with through repentance, confession, and forgiveness. Of course she’s right on many levels—true love and friendship require that we tear down those walls and root out those hurts and angry demands for vengeance or punishment.

However, I can’t imagine that these conversations have been anything other than depressing, discouraging, and probably very, very ugly. Why? Well … for one thing, it seems as though your friend (like all of us) has some aspects of her life that are not secure in Christ. Rather than needing Christ alone; she believes that she needs her parents’ love and her parents to treat her well. This means she is living (at least in part) for a good relationship with her parents. If it is, in fact, true that she is investing her hope, confidence and emotions in a good relationship with her parents—more than in Christ—then her heart of wrong (idolatrous) worship will keep leading her into despair.

(Any time a person uses the phrase, “If only …”, be sure to pay attention! We learn so much about how to love and encourage people when we learn what they love and value the most. For example, if your friend says, “If only my parents would love me and stop being so mean to me, then I would be happy,” you may have a sweet opportunity to remind her that God created her and her “chief end” is to love and enjoy God; to find her identity and security in him—not people. Not even her parents.)

Another reason why I would guess that her conversations with her parents have been trainwrecks is because it sure doesn’t sound like her parents are very godly, Spirit-directed, biblically astute, wise, generous, loving, mature people. It doesn’t seem like they value her very much. But your friend really wants to have a great relationship with parents who are all of those things; parents who cherish her. The thing is, there is no indication that they are going to move in that direction anytime soon.

Perhaps it is time for your friend to admit the truth that a good relationship with her parents is probably never going to happen.

God may work a miracle! And that would be wonderful! But currently, from her parents’ perspective, “everything is her fault.” Is this sad? Absolutely! Should she grieve this? You bet. But I truly encourage you to help her to let it go. Grieve. But stop pining away for something that is never going to happen.

“In as much as it depends on her” – she is called to live at “peace” with her parents (Romans 12). But she has neither the power nor the authority to change them. And it sounds like she’s been making herself miserable trying to get them to understand her position so that they can be “reconciled.” Again, barring some amazing miracle, I just can’t imagine that this will ever happen in this life. (I will mention that if they are professing Christians and members of a biblically-faithful church, there may be trained mediators and/or ordained leaders who could help. But it sure doesn’t sound like her parents would be open to such help.)

Regardless of what her parents do or don’t do, from the security of right worship of God, basking in His grace toward her, trusting in His sovereignty and goodness, your friend can move toward her parents in a new way. She can need nothing from them; put no “good” expectations on them. In fact, she should probably expect them to act consistent with how they have acted towards her for decades … negative, critical, cruel, and insensitive. That’s terribly unpleasant, but she can prayerfully prepare to bless them and do good towards them, regardless of their attitudes and actions.

I’m sure she already knows that she is called to love her enemies (Luke 6:27). She may have just never wanted to admit that in this situation, her parents are acting like enemies. This is actually quite common. Our closest “enemies” are often are family members—husbands, children, parents, in-laws, step-relationships.

PLEASE NOTE: of course I do not mean to, in any way, imply that “love” for an enemy requires people who are being abused to just “take it.” Absolutely not! In abuse situation, love may come with a badge and a gun. Love may require us to end a telephone call or walk out of a church meeting. But for more normal broken relationships–wherein a parent, for example, constantly criticizes an adult child. (I’ve actually worked with a lot of elderly people who have been on the receiving end of that level of relational cruelty from their adult children.) Sometimes, we are called to bear the ugly words for a certain amount of time. At other times, it is appropriate to (gently, lovingly, humbly, mercifully) end the conversation with words like:

“Mom, Dad, I love you. And I want to have a relationship with you. But right now you are saying some words to me that are not redemptive and I can’t see how this will help us to love God or love one another. So I’m going to go ahead and go now—but I want you to know that I love you and I’m praying for you. OK. Bye-bye.”

Do you see the clear difference in this response versus the responses of her being “devastated” and “not able to take it”? She is no longer furious at them. She doesn’t leave condemned by their rejection of her. She pities them for having such ugly heart attitudes. She is not “destroyed.” In fact, she moves on in her day the exact way that she was before their cruelty—secure in God. Secure in Christ. Heart fixed on eternity. Walking her pilgrim days on earth with faith and hope.

(And when she’s too tired or weak to do this, her friends come alongside of her and carry her for awhile. Just like we are always here to carry you, my dear friend.)

And with that, I will sign off. I hope this email is even a tiny blessing to you (and to her!). If she’s a visual/auditory learner, she could also watch a keynote I did at a conference a few years ago that I think would be particularly on point to her life situation:

Thanks again for writing! I love you, my friend! So very sorry for your friend’s suffering.

Yours,
Tara B.

How far we have come since her first little 1/32nd-sized violin (when she was 2.5 years old)!

Hope you enjoy …

Discipleship? Spiritual mentoring? How can we possibly let someone into the muck and mire of our lives if we won’t even let them into the PILES OF CHAOS behind closed doors?

(Yes. Yes. That is a photo from MY real house. It’s been a booger of a year. How ‘bout you?)

Of course, some of us do try the whole discipleship thing. Spiritual sisters. Brothers in Christ. Etc. We tiptoe out a tiny bit and risk. We share of a habitual sin or temptation in our lives. We whisper a sincere question or doubt.

AND THEN BAM! Rebuke without hope. Judgment without deliverance. Gossip in the name of prayer. Silence and avoidance in the name of love.

Not always (thank God!). But man. When you get spiritually beaten up? It’s a beating like none other. It’s worse even than the punches or belt whippings that bloodied your childhood. Because this person uses all sorts of Bible verses and God talk and words like “love” **WHILE THEY DO VIOLENT HATEFUL LOVELESS THINGS TO YOU**.

Is it any wonder why we don’t rush to sincerity and authenticity in our church relationships?

Isn’t it like the proverbial housecleaners who laugh at your dog hair and dust and tell others what a dirty failure you are as a homemaker? And then they wonder why so many of their clients feel an urge to clean their houses the day BEFORE the professional cleaners arrive?

Makes perfect sense to me! It’s just like the way so many of us only have our “spiritual mother” or “accountability brothers” over to the spic-n-span parts of our house and our lives.

(Seriously? In the history of time, has any accountability group ever started with pornography STILL PLAYING from the night before? The credit card statement for tens of thousands of things we really can’t afford right there in the middle of the table? The empty bottle of pain-killers that was filled yesterday and supposed to last an entire month?)

Oh, friends. If any of this is resonating with you,please let me be crystal clear about one thing …

Any “discipling” that tempts you to PERFORM? Present a FACADE? Hide your fears; memorize an Excel spreadsheet of what to do and not do; lie about your struggles; view the “good” and “spiritually mature” leader from your church wayyyy up there on a pedestal while you are stuck wayyyyy down there in the pit?

If this is the “spiritual mothering” or “discipling” or “grace based / doctrines of grace / gospel-proclaiming” discipleship that you are being encouraged to do … RUN!! RUN FAR AND FAST AND GET AWAY!!

Reject it. It is not discipling. It is not Christian. Run from it and run to GOD. Turn to God’s Word. Start with God, end with God, and in the middle be all about God.

Here. Let me give you a great place to start even this very evening.

Let’s all open our Bibles to Isaiah 62 and remember what GOD says about his children:

ISAIAH 62
(excerpts)

1 For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not be quiet, until her righteousness goes forth as brightness, and her salvation as a burning torch.

2 The nations shall see your righteousness, and all the kings your glory, and you shall be called by a new name that the mouth of the LORD will give.

3 You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the LORD, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God.

4 You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate, but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her, and your land Married; for the LORD delights in you, and your land shall be married.

5 For as a young man marries a young woman, so shall your sons marry you, and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you …

11 Behold, the LORD has proclaimed to the end of the earth: Say to the daughter of Zion, “Behold, your salvation comes; behold, his reward is with him, and his recompense before him.”

12 And they shall be called The Holy People, The Redeemed of the LORD; and you shall be called Sought Out, A City Not Forsaken.”

—

You shall be called by a new name that the mouth of the LORD shall give!

Do you ever feel forsaken and desolate? Forgotten? Unloved?

Hear the truth: You shall be called SOUGHT OUT for GOD’s delight is in you.

Take that, messy junk room!
Hear that, judgy church leader!
Listen up stretchy black pants that can’t stretch no more!

THIS is how we grow in grace and sanctification! This is how we get in the battle! We remember that, because of Christ, we are crowns of beauty, a royal diadem, in the hand of the Lord.

We learn to hate sin because we remember how much God loves us and how holy HE is! We persevere in vulnerable relationships with (imperfect but) trustworthy people because we know that the Christian life is life together, in the family of God. And anyway: “The Lord is with me. What can mere mortals do to me?” (Psalm 118:6)

Be encouraged, my friends. Worship and ENJOY your Heavenly Father! Don’t let the sins and fallenness of sinful, fallen people tempt you to harden your hearts toward ALL people. “Forgive, just as in Christ you have been forgiven. And over all these virtues put on love“ (see Colossians 3).

Amen?
Amen!

(Oh. But in addition to all of these spiritual truths, if you DO have an actual room or two that looks like mine and you could use some help from the LEAST judgy person you will ever ever meet about such things—-I *LOVE* getting to help make order from chaos. So if you can get me to you from Montana, maybe I could help out a bit! Fun fun fun!

But fair warning: I will *NEVER* think that 30 books is the right number—-unless you are describing the combined total of books on both bed stands and one end table. ?!)

Nite nite and much love—
Tara B.

(This is a re-post of a late-night FB share from weeks ago.)

As he has done so often in his previous writings, William P. Smith gets right to the cry of my heart in his latest book: “Assurance-Resting in God’s Salvation.” Rather than toying with my minor fears or batting a few Scriptures in the general direction of my lesser concerns, Smith instead begins by expounding on a number of substantive passages about God. And once he has our hearts focused on exactly where they ought to be, he then asks the million dollar question for all of us who struggle with weak faith and loud, distracting doubts:

“Are you used to thinking of God as someone who cares about doubters and who cares about what they need to believe and trust him?”

Hmmmmm. And—Ouch! Good question, Pastor Smith. Am I used to thinking of God in this way? Honestly, I would have to say, “No.” I can’t really claim that I am rock-solid in meditating on, memorizing, and joyfully proclaiming the passages of Scripture that remind me that God is someone who cares about doubters. But now I see how important it is that I get this part of the discussion right.

The only hope I have for strengthening my assurance and minimizing my doubts is to understand what God has revealed about himself and his work in relation to people like me—people who try so hard to be brave and loving, but who become fearful after repeated times of getting kicked down, gracelessly criticized, and alienated by professing Christians. It can be extremely hard to know how to “cast out” those fears by God’s “perfect love” (1 John 4:18).

In “Assurance,” William P. Smith directs us right to the Source: “God expected doubt to be a real problem for many of his people and he did something about it. He talked openly about your struggles and doubt and wrote down what you need to do to be more certain of God’s love for you.”

Consider just a few of the points Smith makes:

• We can be honest about our doubts. No more hiding! No more pretending!
• We can help one another to run right into the confident, secure arms of the True God.
• God’s message to us, over and over again, is that he is the one who calls us eagerly to trust that he is strengthening our faith; he is helping us to have more and stronger confidence in him.
• Jesus is praying continually for us (Hebrews 7:25).

If I had to summarize William P. Smith’s book, “Assurance,” in three words, they would be:

God has you.

Before there was time (Ephesians 1), God had you. As he formed you in your mother’s womb (Isaiah 44), God had you. God is above, below, ahead, behind you (Psalm 139). Even in the storms of life, he will keep you in perfect peace (Isaiah 26:3). So-called friends (who only pretend to be friends) may abandon you (Proverbs 18:24), but God will never abandon you. In life. In death. In eternity to come, God has you. Rest in the assurance that God has you.

But what about those of us who are really struggling in the valley of weeping, the dark night of the soul? Maybe we are so angry, scared, or bitter, that we have given up on the struggle and we are just sort of existing in a miserable, troubled life? As Pastor Smith so ably reminds us, the fact that our doubts trouble us is actually a sweet assurance from Christ that we really are his! When sadness weighs us down because we lack assurance that we are God’s children, that sadness is our assurance! To wonder if we are his? To worry if we are his? Those simply are not the thoughts of an unregenerate person.

So wherever you are in your spiritual and emotional life today, Run to God. Worship him. Enjoy him. Listen to his Word and wrap up in the assurances found in each picture, poem, history, genealogical list, proverb, prophecy, and song. Your Heavenly Father chose you before the creation of the world (Ephesians 1). Even when you are at your worst, his love for you never wavers (Psalm 86:5). As his kindness leads you to repentance (Romans 2:4), return to your gracious and merciful God. Be assured of his steadfast love for you (Joel 2:13).

(And thank you, yet again, William P. Smith, for lavishing such biblical, Christ-centered teachings on us all. You help us to trust in God and rest in HIS assurances!)

– Tara Barthel, JD MBA (www.tarabarthel.com): Attorney, Mediator, Homemaker, Rhetoric Instructor, Author of Living the Gospel in Relationships, Coauthor of Redeeming Church Conflicts and Peacemaking Women

Yesterday, I strongly urged my friend to speak with a lawyer before accepting or declining a financial settlement she was offered after she was gravely injured in a retail business. Our conversation reminded me of this post from way back in 2015 …

The entire situation was so strange—but also, I did see many evidences of God’s grace at work in the story. It was good to pause, remember, and make a little e-stone-of-remembrance so that one day, like Samuel in 1 Samuel 7:12, my family and I can raise our Ebenezer to God’s gracious provision in helping us.

(Plus, there are elements of the story that are just plain funny. So I thought they might give you a chuckle or two as well.)

This story begins on an airplane way back in January. I cannot tell you the name of the airline or any identifying details because that would be breaking a confidentiality agreement that I signed related to this “in-flight incident.” But just know that it’s a big airline, not a little rinky-dinky-prop-jop-casual airline.

Back to January …

It was a completely normal air travel day. No weather problems. No delays. You can picture me just sitting there in my nice, elite-area, aisle seat, watching a video on my iPod. (I have flown around 75,000+ air miles a year every year since 1997, so I have been a million-miler for quite awhile now. Thus, air travel is one of the few things I am confident at and competent in; unlike, say, cooking, which I still can’t do very well.)

Suddenly, without any warning, I felt a huge jolt and clonk to my head because a large, heavy, carry-on suitcase had dropped directly onto me when an overhead bin malfunctioned during our ascent. Honestly? It hurt, but I didn’t think I was seriously injured. Sure. I had an immediate, large egg-sized bump on my forehead and some pretty drastic scratches down my face. But I did not lose consciousness; I had no sharp pains down my neck or back. I was injured and it wasn’t pleasant, but I didn’t think it was necessary to take the lead flight attendant up on her urgent offer as she rushed to my side:

“We are SO sorry! The pilot said he will immediately turn the plane around and go back to [giant city] so that you can receive medical attention if you would like.”

I quickly thought about how many people were on that plane. (I know the Boeing 757 well.) Elderly people. Business people. Families with young children and babies. As I mentally calculated how inconvenienced they would all be (especially re: connections) and as I tried hard to “consider their interests” (Philippians 2), I replied:

“Thanks. But I don’t think that’s necessary. May I please just have a bag of ice?”

She quickly filled a little barf bag with ice from first class and brought it to me. I then just collapsed my (bumped, scratched) face into the bag of ice in my hands, rested on the tray table in front of me,  and tried not to cry from the adrenaline of the experience. (I’m not much of a crier and I’m certainly not a crier-in-public person.)

But then. (Cue scary music.) Again, without any warning, the same overhead bin popped open and the same (giant! heavy!) suitcase crashed onto me again. This time, it grazed the back of my head and mostly landed on my right wrist and arm which (like my face) immediately started to bleed from the scratches and soon afterwards turned some nasty shades of bruising. Not fun! But again, not a broken bone. Just a minor injury. Unpleasant, but not all that serious. (Although it did leave a small, permanent scar on my right wrist, which I think of as my own little “Ebenezer” every time I see it.)

Again, the lead flight attendant rushed to my side and offered to have a “medical team” meet us at the [connecting big city]. Again, I didn’t think that was necessary, but I did ask for some towels/bandaids. And that time? I did cry. No sobbing or sounds, just hot, frightened tears rolling down my cheeks as the flight crew (finally!) emptied the obviously defective overhead storage bin so that this would not be a triple-play kind of injure-the-passenger-situation.

But now my legal brain started to kick into gear. Yes. You can take the lawyer out of Illinois and plop her into Montana, but you can’t ever really remove from her brain three years of law school and all of the studying it took to pass the Bar Exam. And as I sat there, reviewing the facts of what had just happened, I was quite sure this was a strong (if not slam-dunk) case of prima facie neglience on behalf of the airline. (Equivalent to being rear-ended in an automobile accident.) There’s just no defense to that bin popping open twice (and the flight crew not adjusting bags or emptying the bin until after the second injury). Plus, I did not have anything in the overhead bin, so there was absolutely no way I was contributorily negligent in the situation.

I knew what I would have to do to prevail in the courts:

• Get the names and contact information for the people sitting near me to make it easier to depose them (they were all clearly “on my side,” as it were, because they could not believe this had happened to me; even seasoned frequent-flyers and [name of airline] crew members were telling me “You HAVE TO sue!”);
• Accept the offer of having a medical team meet me at the connecting city so that my injuries could be formally documented;
• At the stroke of 8:00AM the next morning, hire a personal injury lawyer; and
• Spend countless hours of the next year with my lawyer preparing for the fight, in depositions and settlement negotiations, or (if the airline was stubborn for some unimaginable reason), hours and hours for multiple years preparing for and finally executing the trial.

I would probably win. The lawyer would make a good profit. And our family (which could really use the money for basic needs and future expenses) would enjoy a substantial in-flow of cash.

But I also knew:

• Litigation would take a tremendous amount of time away from my service to my husband, young children, church, and community;
• If I sued, I would have a strained relationship with one of my favorite airlines. (I bake cookies for my local Billings crew!);
• I would not be following wise, biblical counsel to “settle matters quickly” re: going to court (Matthew 5:25);
• I would be following the litigious nature of our society which I despise (remember when kids used to get bruises and cuts on the playground and find them all to be badges of super-fun-honor? not reasons to SUE and then PAD with protective gear every schoolyard playground?);
• I would be violating the core biblical peacemaking principles to which I have dedicated my professional life as a professional Christian conciliator (and which were the reason my husband and I left our careers in Chicago to move to Billings, Montana back in 1999). John 17:20-23 & 1 John & Ephesians 4 & 1 Corinthians 6?! Man. Persuasive stuff.

As my tears subsided and my barf-bag-of-ice melted against my scraped and sore body, I pretty much re-read in my mind Appendix D in Ken Sande’s book, The Peacemaker (“When Is It Right To Go To Court?“) and the “Biblical Conflict Resolution” Appendix of the PCA’s Book of Church Order. I am not proud of the fact that I wavered a bit in this moment. There was such a draw to imagining a world in which we had a little financial margin! But ultimately, it was clear what I had to do:

“Discourage litigation. Persuade your neighbors to compromise whenever you can. As a peacemaker the lawyer has superior opportunity of being a good man. There will still be business enough.” Abraham Lincoln

The next morning, when the Vice-President of the airline’s insurance carrier called me, I violated every mantra of legal negotiation and just told him the truth: I was a Christian and a peacemaker and I had no intention of suing the airline, as long as I was treated fairly and justly. I told him honestly what happened (on the phone and in writing) and, after a few short weeks, I was offered a fair settlement. The dollar amount was just enough to send me to Orlando so that I could have the joy of serving The Gospel Coalition on the LiveBlog. And that’s exactly what I did.

No. We still don’t have a balanced budget and that is a stressful situation to be in. My children do not have a nice, secure college fund waiting for them. My husband still drives a vehicle with nearly 200,000 miles on it. We did not deceive, manipulate, or warp these minor injuries into major financial benefits. But I do not regret this at all because I know that if I had exaggerated my injuries; if I had been litigious for selfish reasons; if I had sinned and violated my conscience and convictions and destroyed my name and integrity for MONEY? Oh. Any “benefit” would have been rightly burdened by deserved guilt and shame.

Instead, I had a (guilt-free), wonderful conference as I joyfully reflected on the sovereignty and goodness of God re: both Nehemiah and broken overhead bins and crashing-down suitcases.

SDG,
Tara B.

PS
Please don’t take this post to mean that I don’t ever think it is appropriate to sue another person or entity, because I absolutely do. It’s just that in this situation, no one was intentionally or even recklessly doing me grave harm. I was injured. Absolutely. But it was a genuine accident, not an intentional, malicious action. Hope that makes sense.

[A re-post from 2015]

Yesterday, I did a quick check-in with my preteen daughter about how her heart and mind were doing re: inadvertent exposure to sexual or violent images. I use different words, of course. Otherwise, the very act of asking about things could create trouble—and I surely don’t want to do that! But as we were there, nose-to-nose, snuggling and talking about important things, I asked if she had seen anything troubling or tempting on any technology or on a bookshelf at a friend’s home or in a store, etc.

She mentioned how the title “The Lady with the Dragon Tattoo” had created in her a desire for a second glance when she saw it on a bookshelf at a friend’s home, but that was pretty much it. She didn’t explore it and she wasn’t having any troubling thoughts about it.

I thanked her for sharing about this important part of her life (as I always do). I reiterated what an honor it was to pray for her about such things, especially as she continues to mature and have more and more opportunities to glance longer and longer and things that might seems so … interesting. Enticing. (As adults, the term “titillating” would be an appropriate descriptor.)

And then I told her a variation of what I tell her pretty much every single time we venture into this area of life. My spiel goes something like this:

“My darling daughter. I hope you know that when daddy and I talk about these things with you, and urge you to be careful, wise, and intentional about avoiding these things, we’re not trying to keep something good from you. We’re not standing here, body-blocking you from something super fun and interesting and beautiful because we just want you to have a drag of a life and we don’t want you to be blessed.

When I ask you about these things; when I pray and beg God for His protection for you; when I counsel you to STAY AWAY FROM THESE IMAGES AND SOUNDS, I am doing it because I SO long for you to NEVER have to deal with the ramifications of them being inside of you. Not even for ONE MINUTE.

Like a drop of black ink spreading throughout a clear glass of crystal clean water, these sounds and images get into our brains in a darkening, clouding way.

Of course, God gives us grace. You know my story. You know that by the time I was your age, my mind was bombarded by hundreds, thousands, of images and sounds that I wish I never knew existed. And God was so gracious and is so gracious to help me—to save me and sanctify me and my memories so that, by His grace alone, daddy and I enjoy a happy, sweet, fun, intimate life together.

But. It has still been hard. Very hard. It was hard for me as a child. Harder still as a teenager and young adult. Hard when I met and fell in love with your daddy and we were married and we began the good, pure, God-honoring, strong, cement-together-one-man-and-one-woman-for-LIFE, aspect of our intimate life together. At the worst possible times, specific images would come into my mind from 1974. 1975. Preschool! Kindergarten! Images that my five year-old self didn’t understand; that provoked strong physical and emotional responses in me; things that brought me shame; things that warped my view of women and of men and of sexuality. Forty years later, I remember exactly what I saw and what I felt and how I didn’t understand either. And this, my dear, is what I want to protect you from to the utmost of my ability.

Yes, we live in a hyper-erotic society. Yes, billboards are everywhere. Sounds are everywhere. Even our careful use of Netflix and iTunes with no “real” tv cannot protect you as you continue to grow up and are in increasingly unsupervised situations with increasing amounts of opportunities to look. And look again. And again.

That’s why I ask you direct questions now. I tell you the stories of the GOOD (because this aspect of life IS SO GOOD in its proper context). I try to give age-appropriate warnings and, like so many aspects of life, I pray that you will NOT be like me.

God gives us grace! I am a living testimony to that. But it would be far, far better to just avoid the disastrous poison of sexually explicit and exploitave images and sounds.”

(‘Course, that’s not even going down the whole rabbit trail of why we live the way we do as a family so that every single month we can donate to International Justice Mission so that we can be one tiny part of trying to rescue victims of violence, sexual exploitation, and slavery—a whole ‘nother aspect of this conversation that, it seems to me, we MUST be having with our children.)

Is this a hard topic for you? It is for me too. Maybe you’ll want to read some of my other posts for encouragement and practical helps.

Oh. And Mary? I don’t think I would have shared this story if I hadn’t been encouraged by your blog post that recently showed up in my stats/feed. Thank you, my friend. I love you. And maybe our combined efforts will keep even just one child from the statistically “guaranteed” early childhood inadvertent exposure to porn. I pray that it is so.

For the glory of the Lord and His Bride—and the protection of the children in our care,
Tara B.

[A re-post from 2015]

I am a strong proponent of basic estate planning, including discussions and documents (powers of attorney / living wills) re: end-of-life decisions. It seems to me that being an adult means that you invest a little bit of time and money to keep track of (and distribute) your assets and liabilities, ensure clear guardianship for your minor children, and empower the people you want to handle medical and financial decisions for you in case of your incapacitation/death. And I’m not saying that just because I am an estate planning attorney. I sincerely think these things are important and worth the investment of time and money to have handled correctly.

But today, in our family’s meeting with my mother’s new doctor, I learned something new and I thought I’d pass the information along to you just in case you were unaware as well …

Did you know that less than 1% of people in my mother’s medical situation (end stage heart disease, severe lung disease, diabetes, Lupus, etc.) survive a “full code” (the heart-shocking, CPR-administering, intubation “life saving” procedures we see on hospital television shows all of the time)? I didn’t. I knew from some old E.R.’s / Grey’s Anatomies that the number was low, but I didn’t know it was that low.

Tonight, in a very sad, very sober conversation with my mother’s gentle, but extremely direct doctor, she was asked (and my stepfather was asked) what they want the doctor to do when her heart stops beating. Because, sadly, her situation is “very bad” (to use the doctor’s words) and there isn’t really anything that can be done to change her prognosis, which is death.

He recommends that she be entered immediately into hospice care and that she and Charlie talk and figure out whether she wants to have a “full code” run if her heart stops beating and/or she stops breathing (which, he explained, will probably break many bones in her chest and will be painful and hard and even then have a 99% chance of immediate failure, or if she survives a little while, may have a severe neurological impact and will, ultimately, not change her prognosis at all anyway).

Oh, friends. It was so awful. I just know that I will never forget the details of that darkened room, exactly where my mom was in her bed, my stepfather standing near her, my sister in her chair, the doctor, the nurse. It was a conversation that will stay with me for the rest of my life. Yes. We all knew she was very, very sick. We all knew with some level of vagueness that she could die relatively soon. But the clarity and finality of having the doctor lay it all out for us with such a stark question (“Do you want to die in a hospital? Or do you want to die here?”) was heart-breaking. He was a wonderful doctor. He was gentle and compassionate. But the question needed to be asked and at some point very soon, they will need to let him know their decision.

After the doctor left the room, Charlie and Kali also stepped out and I had a few minutes alone with my mother. I climbed into her bed and held her and cried and told her how sorry I was and how I loved her with all my heart and how she was such a good friend to me and how grateful I was to have her for my mother. And I asked her if I could pray for her and she said yes. So I did pray. And then Kali and I left her and Charlie alone—I think Charlie is going to sleep in her hospital bed tonight with her.

It’s all so very sad. I’m grateful for the time I’ve had with my mom. I’m grateful for our reconciled relationship and true friendship. I’m grateful that my daughters have gotten to know her and be loved by her. I’m extremely grateful that Kali and I could be here, present with my mother and Charlie, during this devastatingly hard conversation.

But all the things I’m grateful for don’t overcome the fact that I’m just very very sad that my mother is dying. Please do continue to pray for her.

(Oh, and just to wrap up my estate planning train of thought in this blog post too … I thought this article was particularly helpful re: thinking through this whole “full code” issue. It might be worth doing a little research on your own / talking with your doctor, etc. and then expressing your convictions to  your family members/powers of attorney. I probably sound very strange in talking about that when such a painful personal thing is happening in my life. I think I just started reading more about this topic because my brain wanted something to do as I sit here alone in my hotel room in Michigan. Why not estate planning as a distraction? Yes. I am an odd duck, I know. Some people knit. I research and blog.)

Thanks again for your kindness—

Gnite,
Tara B.

PS
This is a re-post from 2012. My mother died fifteen days after I wrote those words and I still miss her every single day.

PPS
My mother had a lot of challenges in life and we had some very dark, very painful years when I was a child. (This is one reason why my, “How to Write a Eulogy for a Bad Mother / a Mother Who Didn’t Love You” continues to be my most-read blog post of all time. By tens of thousands.) But she also had a generous heart, a brilliant mind (when she was sober and in her right mind), and a love for words that has flowed down even to her grandchildren. I shared some of her poetry once and you can click here to read it. But I will close with one of my favorites …

If you come to me
And need a friend
And I am harsh
And curt
Please say you need
   to talk
Before you walk away alone
Sometimes even people
Who care an awful lot
Have other things on their mind

(a poem by Kathryn Kroncke Klena Ford,
my beloved mother and friend)

If you ever want to see who your true friends are, struggle through trauma therapy after being assaulted. Man. Real friends can BRING IT. Love. Anger. A text that actually makes you laugh out loud moments after you were just wondering if you’d ever laugh again. Prayer. Presence. Sure, an occasional link to a helpful article or sermon. Cards, books, and one friend in the last two years even sent a meal! (Big T!!)

But really, the mark of love for me has simply been when people felt the awkwardness of what happened to me and then the REALLY awkward reality of my physical and emotional collapse—and they didn’t necessarily know what to say or do, but they NEVER pulled away. They never gave up. They pressed in. Love pressed in. Even my introvert friends (most of my closest friends are introverts) didn’t choose silence and distance for their own comfort. They remembered that I existed. They told me that they remembered that I existed. And just by remembering me, I knew they cared. I knew I was never alone.

Please. If someone you know is suffering and you have no idea what to say, don’t say nothing. Stumble and fumble and even just say, “I don’t know what to say! But I love you. I care. I think about you and I want to put the person who (violated, attacked, abandoned) you IN THE GROUND. I want to gently care for you and sacrificially try to protect you from future pain. I know I can’t completely, but I sure would like to try!”

The fact that you care is what matters. My pain causes you pain? This means I am loved!

Oh. And when it comes to the debilitating, chest-crushing, anxiety related to all of this suffering, I have been most deeply helped by one piece of advice in one article. I encourage you to read this and see if any of it might help you—or someone you love who struggles with debilitating, life-altering anxiety and fear:

Some Things That Have Helped Me in My Struggle with Anxiety

(Stupid limbic system. Yes. Yes. I know. Helpful at times. Necessary for life even. But when it goes haywire from PTSD? Grrrrrr. So. So. SO annoying. And painful. Distressing. Devouring.)

Be helped, I pray! Help someone else! Enjoy.

Your friend,
Tara B.

[A re-post from 2017]

Angry people are sometimes sinfully angry; and sometimes angry people are fearful people who have no idea how frightened (and frightening) they are.

Avoidance of duties may be sinful laziness and sloth, but sometimes it can be genuine exhaustion that comes from our trying (consciously or unconsciously) to stomp down and avoid deep grief and pain.

Some of us are sinfully proud and foolish re: receiving criticism; but some of us want to listen to criticism and want to be readily teachable and growing in wisdom, but the graceless criticism of today sometimes presses on a shaming memory with such ferocity that even we are shocked by how quickly and high we “jump” or “kick” emotionally in response.

Like the shock of having fresh surgical sutures knocked into, sometimes a color. A scent. An image. A touch. One specific word may tip us into a valley of despair and darkness that has very, very little to do with our present circumstance. Sometimes, our seemingly out-of-proportion reactions are God’s gracious way of helping us to understand and address complex pain in our complex hearts (i.e., what the Bible describes as our mind, soul, or inner man).

For me, this week, I have had repeated opportunities to turn to the Lord with intimate cries for help, gratitude for his covenantal love, and increasing hope and assurance from his Word, because wow! Did I initially overreact to my daughter’s suffering tied to high fevers.

Yes, yes. Our family is currently dealing with the gunk of a bad virus, just like so many other families in our community. No, this is not “terrible suffering” like the “real suffering” of people in much-more-serious circumstances. But yes, this is “terrible suffering” and “real suffering” for our life circumstance, for this day, for this season. It’s exhausting to have high fevers day after day, night after night. It’s miserable to be sick and it’s miserable to be the mom who can’t protect her child from being sick.

But for me, Tara Barthel, this normal, not-too-dramatic, suffering-related-to-a-child-having-a-little-virus/bug has a layer of pain related to it that has absolutely nothing to do with today and everything to do with specific memories from my childhood (in the 1970’s). Why does this matter? Because as soon as my husband and I recognized that I wasn’t just exhausted from being up all week with my sick child, I was also grieving anew a past suffering, we—Fred and I—could take a few extra steps to be sure we were not only ministering to our child, we were caring for me, too.

Thankfully, it only took us a few days into our daughter’s illness to recognize that her sleep disturbances were reminding me of some of my worst childhood night terrors, sleeptalking, sleep-moaning-and-crying-out-for-help-weeping, and sleep walking right out of my childhood home.

(I can still taste those nightmares from 35+ years ago! Adrenaline really does have such a searing effect on memories.)

Every time my daughter’s fever went into the 104 range this week, I wasn’t just trying to determine if the ice-pack on her forehead was sufficient or whether we should put her into a tepid bath, I was also vividly flashing back to the hard metal tubs with the clanging latches that were both the instruments of my torture and my rescue in the emergency rooms of my childhood.

(If you haven’t had bags of ice poured onto your 105+ degree’d body, it may be a little hard to understand the confusion and terror of being a five year-old shaking uncontrollably from being SO hot and SO cold at the exact same time—and wondering why the grownups in the room “weren’t helping.” They were, of course, helping. But it sure didn’t feel like it at the time.)

No, I wasn’t undone by these memories this week. They were mostly just revving in the background of my days and nights of typical maternal concern and care. But last night, Fred wisely urged me to tuck into the bed in our tiny basement (far away from our daughters’ room), entrust the every-two-hour-medicine schedule to him, and sleep. Cry if I needed to. Pray. Turn off the hypervigilance-momma-meter and just rest.

I am grateful that Fred was sensitive to not only the normal difficulties of this week, but also the deeper layers of pain related to my past experiences. I truly think that we would all be wise to try to remember that people’s actions and reactions may have elements that are tied to complex, past pain. To quote a passage for Peacemaking Women:

We often experience suffering on two different levels. The pain from the current situation may ‘tap into’ our past experiences …

When our experience of pain seems disproportional to the actual situation we are in, we need to look deep into our own hearts to see if a life-forming trauma might be surfacing in the current conflict. Sometimes we may even need help to do so because our pain may cloud our vision and make it difficult to see clearly. Grief and despair, while rooted in past hurts, can be reflected powerfully in current circumstances and present suffering.

Of course, even as we seek to gain wisdom and insight about our complex pain, our suffering never gives us an excuse to sin. God calls us to honor him regardless of our past or present circumstances. As David Powlison reminds us, ‘Knowledge of a person’s history may be important for many reasons (compassion, understanding, knowledge of characteristic temptations), but it never determines the heart’s inclinations.’

Amen & Amen!

What JOY there is in knowing that one day, in Glory, there will be no more tears and no more grief; no more sin and no more unbelief. No more pain! When we see the Lord with unveiled faces (2 Cor 3:18), we will be like him. Oh, how I long for that day!

But in this life, God has sanctified us (definitive sanctification) and he is sanctifying us (progressive sanctification). One aspect of our growth in grace is learning to lament — to grieve with hope. For complex, deep pain? This grieving may feel like the peeling of layers of an onion … in his perfect timing (which we often don’t understand at the time), God lovingly helps us to peel back the layers of our sorrow or grief so that we can experience an even deeper sense of His presence, goodness, wholeness, and Shalom.

One day, in Heaven, the “onion” of pain will be gone forever and completely because our suffering will be over. But in this life, we grow and change. This life is often a life of complex grief. Fear and faith. Risk and pain. Risk and love. “Not health, but healing; not being, but becoming” to use the language of Martin Luther.

Please know, friends, that I am praying for you great hope and great comfort as you grieve and lament the complex pain of your lives.

God really is always working together all things for his glory and our good. Even—nay, especially—the painful things. Oh, that we would have eyes to see and ears to hear! That we would “understand with our hearts, turn, and be healed” (Matthew 13:15) by the One True, Triune God.

Sending my love—

Your friend,
Tara B.