"I don't eat here."

There was a new little cafe on the town square nearby and I was anxious to try it out. I plopped myself down at the best two-top by the window where I could watch the world outside, excited to have the best seat in the house. A girl was in the back corner meticulously designing a chalkboard to promote today’s lunch special. As an artist with a degree in graphic design, I noticed right away she was doing a great job. Good color choices, nice composition, clear handwriting.

When the server came to my table, I immediately noted her mouth was smiling, but her eyes were not. An insincere smile from someone who didn’t love her job. I ordered my usual iced tea, “half and half,” which has become code for half the sweet and half  the guilt. “What’s your favorite thing on the menu?” She quickly grumbled, “I don’t eat here.“ Every restaurant owner’s nightmare.

Despite the messenger’s lack of enthusiasm, my turkey sandwich was pretty good, and I enjoyed my lunch while I watched the girl in the back, still working on the chalkboard even though the cafe was already filling up with lunch customers and an entire booth was dedicated to her project. I had to remind myself; this was not my problem.

When the server stopped by my table, I requested a fill-up on my “half and half.” She snatched the glass off the table and said, “I’ll just have to start over because I have no way of knowing what half you drank already.” As a former restaurant owner, I thought I was helping by telling her she only had to split the remainder of the glass, she didn’t have to start over. (It didn’t have to be a science project.)

“Well, that won’t work because it will throw off the proportions completely.” She grabbed my glass, huffed as if I had no idea what I was talking about, and returned with a completely new glass just to make a point, leaving wasted tea and twice as many glasses to wash.

Determined to salvage my little eating out experience, I ordered dessert and took my time watching the artist in the back, still carefully working on the chalkboard. By the time I left, the lunch crowd was over, the cafe was empty again, but today’s special was now irrelevant because lunch was over and from what I could tell, no one even heard about it because the board was still unfinished and the disgruntled server never mentioned it. This was clearly a business that had lost sight of its North Star.

As one might imagine, the cafe went out of business within less than a year.

There are so many misconceptions about running a successful business and I am reminded of this every single day. Even though Blue Monarch is a ministry and non-profit, it is still a business. And it takes good people to make it work. 

The attitudes of the staff are so important. Our work requires a servant’s heart – not just someone looking for a paycheck. It requires someone who is emotionally invested in our mission as opposed to “I don’t eat here.” We look for folks who “bleed blue.”

And it also requires careful time management and protection of resources. We can’t spend our entire day focusing on the wrong thing. The lunch special must be out on the sidewalk before it becomes completely pointless.

Our leadership team recently went on a little retreat. I was anxious to spend more time with Deanna, Jeannie, and Tricia. And we were all looking forward to having the opportunity to plan and solve problems - things that are difficult to fit into our busy schedules. Honestly, our daily routine can sometimes feel like a train that never pulls into a station for a break. It’s scary to jump off because it’s too hard to jump back on a moving train! 

There was a time on our retreat when I looked around the table at the amazing team we have in leadership. I remember very well the days when I was attempting to do all their jobs – and I only knew a fraction of what they know. It’s also nice having others in leadership to share the enormous responsibilities of our organization and all the individuals in our care. I thought back on all the hundreds of nights I went to bed aware of the heavy load I was carrying by myself. 

As we discussed significant challenges with specific moms and kids and improvements to systems we have created from the needs of the population we serve, I was overwhelmed with the level of divine wisdom every person brought to the table. Each one is a rock star in her field and it’s overwhelming to see how carefully God prepared them for the roles they fill today. The life experiences that could never be taught in school, the personal events that gave them such strong hearts for our Blue Monarch families, and the hope God has instilled in them, which provides the stamina to keep going even when things look hopeless on paper. Honestly, I don’t think they noticed but it literally brought tears to my eyes when I looked at them and really thought about the personal sacrifices each had made, without complaint, to serve our families in the best way possible.

I listened as we discussed aggravating behavioral issues, frustrations with ones not doing their chores, conflicts between women (who typically have a lot in common), those repeatedly resisting advice, and all the ups and downs that come with loads of women and children living together in community. I felt like I had heard every single example a thousand times because it’s what we expect when new ones come into the program. It takes time and patience to navigate through these phases and get to the other side.

While it might be tempting to say, “Okay, next!” I couldn’t help but notice my team was expressing what I would describe as supernatural compassion and were instead saying, “Let’s try this because I still think she can do it.” When we celebrate graduations for the women we serve, I often feel it’s a graduation for our entire staff as well because we live through so many growing pains with them.

There is tangible evidence of how much our program has grown and strengthened since the days I felt like a lone ranger. I’m grateful for the lives that were impacted back then, but I often wish those families could come back for a do-over now that we have such an amazing team in place and our program has become so much richer.

Whereas sobriety used to be our goal, we now see complete and total freedom. Staying out of jail was a goal – but the goals today include college degrees and exciting careers. Not losing custody of one’s children was what we hoped and prayed for – but overcoming trauma while developing healthy, nurturing relationships is now a reality.

Just look at a recent group of Blue Monarch graduates: Cheyenne suffered from a ten-year cycle of addiction and homelessness, but she just recently earned her real estate license and is pursuing an exciting career. 

And who can forget Courtney’s testimony of growing up with no water or electricity, watching her pregnant mother take a bath in a cattle trough. But she just finished school to become a licensed phlebotomist, a pioneer in her family, ready to conquer the world. 

And there’s Hadassah, who is about to complete cosmetology school, a field she absolutely loves, and she just bought her first house. But she came to us with a long history of drug and alcohol addiction, following her husband’s death from an overdose, which traumatized her children. She was an overwhelmed mother of four, but she now has a happy, healthy family that has experienced lots of healing.

Because of the tremendous support of our amazing team (which includes TEN former graduates of Blue Monarch), the gifts and talents of each staff member, the financial support of so many generous folks who believe in what we do, and the magnificent healing grace of God, their lives and those of their children are totally new. It’s a miracle, really. But it helps that we love what we do, we focus on what’s important, and we understand how little time we have to get the lunch special out there before it’s too late. 

In other words, we never take our eyes off the North Star because the consequences can be devastating – but the benefits of staying on course are absolutely life changing.

So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. 1 Corinthians 3:7 NIV

"She had grit."

The image of that moment has been frozen in my mind for thirty years. It would make a perfect Norman Rockwell illustration, where each item, color, piece of clothing, and expression plays a critical part in a much larger story. 

The driver of the car was a young dark-haired woman, whose hands were fiercely gripped on the steering wheel with her elbows jutted out to the sides. Her face was pressed forward as if doing so might get her to her destination faster – sort of like a runner at the finish line. The modest car had apparently broken down and two young boys, dressed in their best church clothes, were pushing the car from the back bumper. The incline was steep so the boys were stretched out as far as they could reach, pushing with all their strength. A crying baby was in the back seat.

They were attempting to go to church and only had a few more yards before they could turn into the parking lot. I watched as several men and their families swerved around the car and turned in, completely ignoring this woman’s struggle. I couldn’t decide if they were embarrassed for her and thought it best to leave her alone, or if they simply didn’t care. 

The look on this mom’s face was something I will never forget. It was a mixture of frustration, exhaustion, and humiliation all at once. But the expression that rose to the top was sheer determination. She was not giving up and she had made up her mind to be a fighter. She had grit.

This woman worked for me. When I ran a horse farm for eight years, I always hired a woman as my live-in farm manager and when Julie took the job, she was married to a musician and had a small baby. But her husband soon left her and their infant – as well as his two children from a previous marriage. So, this incident just trying to take her newly structured family to church on a normal Sunday was just one more undeserved setback. I can imagine it was tempting to give up at that point.

I have always admired Julie for many reasons, but that moment and the expression on her face made a permanent impression on me. And I often see that same look today on the faces of the incredible women we serve at Blue Monarch.

Just the other day, as I was heading home, I found one of our moms down by the bus stop at the end of our driveway with her son and another resident. I rolled down my window and when she turned around, there was that same look. The “Julie look.” She was frustrated, exhausted, and embarrassed. Her son was refusing to walk home after getting off the bus and apparently this standoff had been going on for a while. Her friend was there for support, but didn’t seem to know how to help. I could see this mom was exasperated and close to tears. I’m sure it was tempting to revert to old discipline patterns that we don’t allow at Blue Monarch, so there was probably some resentment thrown in as well. It didn’t help that it was freezing cold, and her son was refusing to budge, even though he was clearly uncomfortable as he swayed back and forth to stay warm.

Nevertheless, despite all the other complicated emotions, the one that rose to the top in that moment was determination. Sheer grit. She was still willing to put forth the extra work, push through, and apply the parenting methods she had learned at Blue Monarch that have proven to work - even if they take lots of time and even more patience to get there.

The very next day, I saw that “Julie look” again. Another one of our moms has a little girl who is absolutely adorable. This child could be a child actor, and her personality is charming. However, there’s a very difficult side to this child that comes as a surprise because it’s in such a cute package. And because of her behavior, she often gets sent home from pre-school in the middle of the day. Once again, this little girl had to be picked up because she was misbehaving. 

“How many times has she been sent home?” I asked.

“This is the eighth time in just a few weeks,” the mom said. And there it was. The look. She was frustrated, exhausted, and humiliated. But with tears in her eyes she said, “I am going to get this. I am not giving up.”

These are the times when many moms would turn to drugs to cope if they were not at Blue Monarch with a supportive team circling around them. It’s the perfect storm if you think about it. Here is a mother who probably never saw healthy parenting growing up and in fact, may have been taught to use drugs by her own parents. She becomes an adult and has a child but by now she’s addicted to drugs and has no experience parenting her child sober. Then, because of what the child goes through, he develops some severe behaviors that are difficult to manage. And because of the chaos both have experienced, neither feels an attachment toward the other in the way most of us take for granted. So, now what?

Well, let’s add another element to that storm. We have all become very spoiled to taking the easy route. Think about it. We no longer need to do math, make change, remember a phone number, read a map, or even compose a sentence or correctly spell a word. We are slowly becoming lazy problem solvers. But that means our world is getting out of balance because in cases like the ones I just described, they must have the strength and fortitude to fight. There is no room for doing it the easy way or reverting to a device to fix it for them. It takes gut-wrenching, hard work and grit. 

I believe we sometimes long for a mountaintop experience, but we are not willing to climb the mountain to get there. 

However, a mother at Blue Monarch has made a commitment to climb that mountain. She puts on her combat boots every single morning before the sun comes up when she would rather sleep in. She struggles once again to get her kids ready for the day against all kinds of resistance. She maintains her Blue Monarch classes and recovery work, striving to apply every morsel she can in the short time she is with us. She does the difficult heart work and digs into her soul to see why she made the choices that landed her at a place like Blue Monarch. 

She takes a deep breath before her kids get back home in the afternoon and greets them with a smile and enthusiasm even though inside, she is afraid of the next outburst. She resists the temptation to strike out or yell when her child intentionally pushes the limits, and she finds the strength to embrace her child in the midst of his rage, and tell him she loves him, even though it still feels uncomfortable to say the words out loud. And she does this routine all over again the next day because yesterday she saw a tiny little glimpse of hope that her hard work was paying off - which may have been something as simple as, "I love you, Mama."

And that’s why the women of Blue Monarch are such warriors. They are willing to climb that mountain, despite the hard work and pain. And they get to relish that mountaintop experience – not because someone made it easy – but because they put in the enormous effort and earned every single bit of it, which they richly deserve.

 

"Seriously, Norman?"

Sometimes I can gauge the temperature of the Blue Monarch community before I even walk in the door. Maybe I find women laughing together on the front porch. Or perhaps I hear them worshiping to praise music booming in the great room. Other times I simply take a quick look around the room to assess the expressions on all the faces and it’s difficult to make eye contact or find a smile. “Oh no. It’s one of those days...”

I’ve often wondered if we should post one of those charts they have in hospital rooms to measure pain – but in our case, to measure how well one is getting along with others today. 

Honestly, the atmosphere at Blue Monarch can some days feel like a pressure cooker with almost 20 women living in community. And let’s add some fuel to the fire and throw their children into the mix. Boom!

“They’re talking about me behind my back.”

“She has no right to correct my child when she doesn’t even have custody of her own yet.”

“I believe she’s eating my food.”

Some of this is normal and expected. That’s why we hold weekly Family Meetings – to hash out disagreements and frustrations in a healthy, constructive way. But during the holidays the sensitivity of the entire group escalates to a level I would describe as “raw.” Yes, that’s it. Everyone is walking around with extremely raw feelings and emotions.

For all the other months of the year, we can try to ignore the obvious things missing in our families that make them less than perfect. But my word, during the holidays those issues rise to the surface and light up like a flashing neon sign. We can no longer ignore what’s lacking because it is amplified in every Christmas display, every song on the radio, and every silly car with a reindeer’s nose on the bumper. Each day brings yet another painful reminder of what’s absent in our ideal world. After all, our family members can bring us the greatest joy or the greatest pain.

I’m often reminded of the popular Norman Rockwell painting of a lovely family gathering where everyone at the table looks happy and engaged. The sweet-faced grandmother is serving a larger-than-life-sized turkey, perfectly seasoned, I’m sure. But honestly, how many families really look like that? Seriously, Norman? Did they still look like that the next year? For those of us who truly have special moments and memories like that, I hope we never take them for granted.

For the families represented at Blue Monarch, however, I can confidently say less than 10% of the almost 1,000 women and children we have served have ever enjoyed a family holiday that was anything close to the one portrayed by Rockwell. In fact, I have heard heartbreaking stories of family get-togethers that ended in ugly violence causing emotional scars and terrible trauma. Harsh words. Christmas presents thrown into the yard or no gifts at all. Black eyes and broken bones. Families torn apart. Christmases behind bars. Raw, raw hurt.

But here’s the thing. They still want what’s in the Norman Rockwell painting.

“I just miss my family,” is something I have heard hundreds of times, usually through lots of tears and sobbing. But it’s not because they can’t see their relatives for Christmas because many do. I think they are grieving a family they never had. They miss THAT family. The one Norman Rockwell illustrated. 

We often see a woman go through a gradual, painful process during the holidays. Her family members begin to look differently to her through the eyes of someone sober. After exposure to healthy behavior at Blue Monarch, the dangers her family present become more obvious. Perhaps her children are not safe in their presence, which is a hard thing to admit. Maybe someone in her family will do something that threatens her recovery and might even offer her drugs because in his or her world, that’s a gift of sorts. If the woman is paying attention, she will eventually realize the grief is over a family she never had. And that’s tough to accept. After all, once she sees the truth, it’s impossible to unsee it and go back. 

At Blue Monarch, we make a huge deal over Christmas. The kids go on exciting Christmas field trips with their moms, creating lifetime memories that we hope will be repeated one day. And my favorite – we treat the moms to a fancy dinner at a nice restaurant where they are encouraged to get dressed up, try new things, and order “whatever they want.” This evening always brings lots of belly laughs along with occasional tears of gratitude. It’s such a special night and we appreciate the sponsors who make this evening possible every year.

We have angel trees scattered across town and many generous people provide the items on the wish list for every woman and child we serve. The day they unwrap all their presents is nothing less than spectacular. Our staff works for hours sorting gifts into piles for each family and the moment the moms and kids crash through the doors and run to their stations – well, it’s exciting, extremely loud, chaotic, and often tearful as well – with more tears of gratefulness and joy. 

I remember a boy last year, bless his heart, who suddenly stopped what he was doing and began crying. We assumed he was unhappy with a gift for some reason, or maybe another child had taken it. But with a quivering chin and big ole’ crocodile tears, he said, “I just can’t believe someone got this for me! It’s EXACTLY what I wanted!”  

So, how do we shift from the season of raw hurt into a season of joy? Well, I can describe what happens because I have seen it hundreds of times. 

Once a woman really grasps the reality of how much healthier and positive life can be, she shifts from being the child to being the mom. She lets go of the fantasy that her family will somehow become the family in the Rockwell painting, and she develops a new family with the other moms and kids at Blue Monarch – the very ones who irritate her from time to time. They create lasting friendships with each other that continue long after they leave Blue Monarch, and their kids continue to grow up together. 

She embraces the connections she makes through Blue Monarch and develops a circle of friends and church family that will lift her up. She finds comfort in knowing she is permanently a part of our Blue Monarch family and can always call on us for help. And she sets healthy boundaries with her original family in order to maintain a safe relationship with them going forward.

She makes a promise to herself that her own children will not long for a healthy mom because they will already have one. Her kids will not grieve over a disappointing family gathering because she is determined to create holidays they will remember and cherish. And she does all of this as she becomes the super hero who will protect her children from the things that hurt her as a child. 

In other words, SHE becomes what she never had. That’s what I call “yet another Christmas miracle.” And isn’t it amazing, the baby in the manger is the one that makes it happen every single year. 

Thank you, Lord, that you have provided such a loving home for your children who are hurting. You are a good, good Father. Amen

"Hate your neighbor as you hate yourself."

As I looked into his big blue, tearful eyes, I knew I would never forget that moment. His distraught expression was one I had seen many times, but this was the first time I had seen it on a child.

The week before, Bentley had delivered a handwritten apology after he lost his temper and kicked a hole in the wall of his bedroom. Honestly, he was such a thin, wiry boy, it was hard to imagine he had the strength to do such a thing. But apparently, he could become strong as an ox if his temper got out of control.

That’s exactly what had happened, which resulted in the damage to the wall. When we picked apart the incident, it was a series of disappointments and frustrations that created the perfect storm for a child like Bentley. So, it was no wonder he spiraled out of control so quickly.

But even though Bentley’s apology note was sincere when he wrote it, he repeated the same thing only a few days later. And here he was in my office again with another apology. 

The look in his eyes, as he stared into my own, was packed full of emotions. His expression screamed a desperate, “Why do I do this?!” He was genuinely sorry for what he had done. I could see his pain. But I could also see the shame, disappointment in his own actions, and hopelessness that whatever caused him to act like this might never go away. For the first time I found myself telling a child what I tell our moms all the time. “The way you feel today is temporary. I promise you won’t feel this way the rest of your life.”

In that moment, I had a brief vision of Bentley as an adult, perhaps delivering a similar apology to a future spouse after an angry outburst. I felt an urgency to stop the madness before he became a man, and we had a priceless opportunity to do so.

You see, like many of the children we serve, Bentley had experienced heartache, tremendous loss, rejection, and profound trauma that for some, could stretch an entire lifetime. But for him, they were packed into only a few short years leaving him older than his age.  

One time, when we invited local police officers to visit our campus, they taught our kids how to use 911 in the case of an emergency. I wondered if they were prepared for Bentley’s immediate response: “I called 911 when my baby sister died!” He was barely old enough to understand how to use a phone when that tragic incident happened. It was probably that very day that Bentley felt the need to become a man – way before his time. No wonder he was angry. And no wonder it was so difficult for him to get that serious, intense look off his face and just be a kid. 

You would think after all these years I would no longer have “Ah-Ha” moments. But I had one recently that beautifully sums up everything we do at Blue Monarch.

In the Bible, Jesus talks about the greatest commandment, which is to love God more than anyone or anything, and to always put him first. Well, that one sentence wraps up why some of our graduates are successful while others struggle. The ones who put him at the very center of every decision, every relationship, and every action become absolute rock stars, and they struggle less than the ones who don't make God a priority. They experience blessings and opportunities that are remarkable and sometimes even surprising.

But Jesus also said the second commandment was just as important - to love others as we love ourselves. And there it is. 

The women – and the children we serve, don’t love themselves so, it’s very difficult to love anyone else. How can a woman love her child when she doesn’t even love herself? And how can a child love his mom or others if he doesn’t love himself? After all, “Love your neighbor as yourself” isn’t a good thing if you hate yourself. It becomes “Hate your neighbor as yourself,” which explains a lot.

We strive to teach the Bentleys of Blue Monarch they are worthy of love, not just from others, but from themselves as well. Through time, patience, and intentional therapy, we walk alongside each child as he discovers who he is, what he loves and enjoys, and that he can even like himself.  

And we teach the moms to forgive themselves, (after all, God has forgiven them), and to love themselves, too. It’s exciting to see a woman gradually discover who she really is – unique and beautiful. She begins to fall in love with the face in the mirror as if she is looking at herself for the very first time. 

As it states in the Bible, if we get these two commandments right, the others will naturally fall into place. And that is exactly what we see at Blue Monarch. Putting God at the center grounds and protects every decision. Then, “Love your neighbor as yourself” becomes the piece that is so powerful, it literally changes the next generation. And with time, I believe in my heart it will change Bentley's  family as well.

 

Jesus replied, " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. The second, most important is similar: 'Love your neighbor as much as you love yourself.' All the other commandments and all the demands of the prophets stem from these two laws and are fulfilled if you obey them. Keep only these and you will find that you are obeying all the others." Matthew 22:37-40

"Muffin's dead!"

When I lived on my horse farm, I had a kind, young neighbor, Jeff, who was great at teaching me everything I needed to know: how to run my John Deere tractor, how to bush hog back and forth in rows rather than a circle, how to cut, rake, and get up hay, and most of all, how to jump ditches on a four-wheeler in the dark. He was a terrific neighbor and friend.

One afternoon my daughter and I drove home from school and discovered our dog, Muffin, had been killed on the highway in front of our farm. We were devastated.  Muffin was a small, black and white, sweet dog, and of course a stray. With tears streaming down our faces, I carefully loaded Muffin into the trunk of my car, checking for any sign of life, and headed over to Jeff’s house to see if he would help me dig a hole to bury her. I was never good at digging a hole, even if I jumped up and down on the shovel.  

Jeff had never seen me so emotional, and he looked alarmed, “What’s wrong?  What happened?”  

“Muffin’s dead!” I blubbered out.

After an awkward pause, Jeff asked with great concern, “What can I do?”

“I need you to help me bury her,” I replied. He looked a little surprised and hesitant, but willing.

Jeff immediately began gathering up the necessary tools and followed us back to our place. “Where do you want to do this?” he asked.

“Oh, I guess under that big tree behind the barn.” Jeff gave me a funny look but unloaded the tools from the back of his truck.

Jeff began digging the biggest hole you have ever seen. He kept digging and digging, insisting that it was important to get deep enough. Quite frankly, I felt it was a little overkill, but he usually knew best about such things. I assumed the excessive hole was to keep varmints from digging up our precious Muffin, which would be traumatic. I appreciated he was looking out for us.  

Finally, out of breath and soaking in sweat, Jeff carefully laid down the shovel and said, “Okay, where is she?”

“In the trunk of my car.”  

“In the trunk of your car?!” He seemed alarmed. Very cautiously, Jeff walked over to the car while I lifted open the trunk.

“That’s Muffin!” Jeff said. He seemed shocked.

“Well, yeah. I told you, Muffin’s dead.”

“I thought you said, muh friend's dead!”

No wonder the hole was so big. Needless to say, we got a good laugh, and it certainly lightened up a very sad moment. I immediately filed his name away as the world’s greatest friend and neighbor.

But in looking back, I cannot imagine what was going through his mind as he dug that enormous hole. Was he planning to report an unlawful burial later? Did he wonder how my friend died? Was he going to pretend it never happened? Perhaps he trusted me so much, he saw no need to question the details.  

The Blue Monarch journey is a very long process that requires major changes in thinking patterns and behavior. An area that is always challenging is the true meaning of healthy friendships. There is often a very distorted perspective on what that really means. What may seem like loyalty is in fact, complicity. Control is misinterpreted as respect. Accountability feels like snitching. These are very difficult concepts to reverse - especially when they have been developed over multiple generations.  

For instance, here is one that I will never understand. Apparently, it is often considered a code of honor to take the rap and serve jail time for someone else’s crime to protect a friend. This “selfless act” somehow earns a place of great respect and moves one up the totem pole of ethics in a way that makes little sense to most of us. It somehow gets confused with “taking a bullet to save another’s life” when it really isn’t the same thing at all. Why would I pay the price for someone else’s mistake - especially when it jeopardizes my own family? Why would I carry that secret to my grave? Remarkably, this scenario is one that is oddly, quite common.

However, from what I can tell, this demonstration of twisted loyalty comes with a pretty high price as well. The one who was protected is naturally indebted to the one who paid his or her debt to society, whether it’s intentional or not. It creates significant control with unclear closure. What does it take to pay off that debt? Can it be paid?

Addiction can cloud all kinds of good judgement. It may cause mothers to risk the well-being and safety of their children by putting unhealthy friendships and relationships first. Sadly, there are a boatload of reasons for this. Many times, she is trying to fill a big hole in her heart by hanging onto a bad relationship, or perhaps the friendship provides something she’s convinced she cannot live without. Meanwhile, the child can get lost in the shuffle.

The wheel of recovery has many spokes, and this is one that is often overlooked. If a mother leaves Blue Monarch and has not developed better discernment in the friends she chooses, and has not learned to put her kids first, she will likely end up right back where she started and her children will suffer as collateral damage.   

We have regular family meetings and encourage the women we serve to hold each other accountable and bring to light any actions or attitudes that might hinder one’s recovery or the recovery of the group. We also remind them, when someone breaks a rule or refuses to do her chores, the person who keeps this to herself will be held just as accountable as the one at fault. This shift in perspective can take a long time to grasp, and even appears to be physically painful for some, because “snitching” has been considered such a hideous, despicable act, regardless of the circumstances or consequences. We explain that a good friend will hold others to a higher standard. Letting a friend slack is not helping her.  

It takes time and a lot of hard work to shift from “no way, I’ll never tell” to “you are not going to get in the way of my recovery or jeopardize my child’s safety - no matter what.” When we hear a mother stand up for her family at the risk of a friendship, our staff members exchange glances as if to say, “Yay! Another one has crossed over!” 

It’s an exciting moment because it means the mother, who had her priorities confused when she got here, has become a protective mom who will put her child first, no matter what. That’s when her family will begin to change in ways they never imagined - and oddly enough, that is when her friendships will get stronger and healthier as well.  

Whew! One more spoke in that wheel. Check.  

"It should not be a secret!"

When I had my cafe, there was a cook for a while who was a little on the cranky side. For instance, I designed a new menu and listed the ingredients in the chicken salad because customers always wanted to know what was in it. “Is it mayonnaise or vinegar based? Does it have nuts?” This cook had a fit when she saw what I had done. “You shouldn’t tell people what’s in the chicken salad! It should be a secret!” 

“How can it be a secret when you can SEE the ingredients for yourself?” After all, the red seedless grapes were right there in front of you. She still insisted I had shamelessly revealed a sacred secret to the world.

I sometimes feel there are secret ingredients in the work we do serving women and their children, things that may not be visible to the naked eye. Naturally, we are dealing with addiction, abuse, poverty, homelessness, the list could go on and on. Those things are obvious. But the average person probably doesn’t realize we also deal with lots of over-sensitivity with our children. In fact, I would say the intense sensory issues have worsened through the years and have become almost predictable.

For instance, we have lots of kids who can’t stand the feel of grass on their bare feet. No, it isn’t because they were raised on concrete in the city. They truly cannot stand the sensation of grass touching their skin – something most of us love. It causes them to cry and scream as if they are in excruciating pain.

We recently had a little girl who was the most fun loving, carefree, outgoing child, but she could not tolerate raindrops on her skin. She would scream hysterically if she got caught in the rain. Can you imagine a mom trying to navigate the weather to avoid a meltdown? 

Then there are the children who have severe problems with the different textures of food. (Tell me that isn’t a nightmare trying to manage community meals...) 

There has also been a tremendous increase in the children we see who have been diagnosed with autism, and there are lots of theories as to why. But two specific boys immediately come to mind. 

Nathan was a sweet boy who was autistic, and he absolutely loved to roll down the hill outside my office. He would flip and tumble until he was almost out of sight and I captured it on video every chance I got. We believe he thrived on the intensity of all his senses being stretched at the same time. 

But get this. A few years after Nathan left Blue Monarch with his family, I looked out my window one day and saw another boy rolling down the hill just like Nathan. He had just moved in that day with his mom. I yelled to the next office and said, “Hey y’all, come in here and look! That little boy is tumbling down the hill exactly like Nathan. He’s the only other child who has ever done that.”

Well, if you can believe this, just two hours later I learned that both boys had the same biological father but different moms. We might assume their father taught them to roll down a hill. But that was definitely not the case with this dad. Surprisingly, this boy had also been diagnosed with autism, just like Nathan. (Sounds like good material for a thesis to me.)

Years ago, there was a sweet little boy in a wheelchair, who had severe disabilities and was non-verbal, so he wasn’t able to tell us what was upsetting him. Adam struggled with different issues periodically, but this particular phase was extremely difficult. Going from one environment to another made him scream, sometimes up to forty-five minutes at a time. For instance, going from a dark car at night to a brightly lit gas station. Or simply going from a room with a low ceiling to one with a high ceiling. As you might imagine, this was extremely hard on the mom as well because it was so hard to understand or avoid.

Children with the same sensitivity, who can articulate how they feel, describe a sensation of falling when going from one space to another. But how could we keep this boy in one space forever?

I went to bed one night with this issue really heavy on my heart. It tore me up to see sweet Adam suffering so much and it hurt just as much to see the mom struggling to help him when nothing seemed to make a difference. Adam was scheduled for an upcoming surgery, and I couldn’t imagine what they would go through as he transitioned from one room to another during all those hospital visits, which would begin in a couple of days.

So, that night before I went to sleep, I earnestly prayed to God for a solution. “Please, Lord, give us some idea how to help this child!”

That night I had a short but powerful dream. In the dream, God told me, “Put a ball cap on Adam’s head. That way his ceiling will never change.”

When I woke up, I couldn’t wait to tell this mom what God had shared with me. We both laughed as if it was a crazy idea, but hey, I was determined to at least give it a try. 

Later that day I shopped around until I found a child sized ball cap. The next day Adam wore the ball cap to his appointment at Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital and let me tell you how it went:

During the transition from the familiar van to the dark parking garage, to the open breezeway, to the tight elevator, to the crowded waiting room, to the bright exam room, to the dimly lit x-ray room...not a peep. Adam did not cry one time. It was a miracle!

This incident proved to me that God is truly in the details. He, too, was concerned about Adam and showed me how to help him. In a similar way, I believe God shows us how to help the other children who come to Blue Monarch with profound sensory issues and needs. It’s as if they show up with their brain waves sparking like an electrical wire in water. But with time, as the mom becomes more consistent, and the child’s routine becomes more predictable, the world becomes a safer place, and we see these symptoms improve or even disappear in some cases. It’s as if each child puts on a divine, virtual ball cap that blocks out the chaos and confusion – as it did for Adam.

Some of the issues we face at Blue Monarch may not be visible to everyone, but through the supernatural healing power of God, and his direction through ordinary people, we see tremendous healing take place. And that should never, ever be kept a secret because it brings great hope - for all of us.

Lord, thank you for always being in the details. May we never forget to seek you for answers. Amen

"You're getting colder...now warmer..."

One might say I totally overreacted to the empty nest syndrome. In fact, my husband used to say that when my only child left for college, I went out and got fifty more. The timing was interesting, I suppose, but perhaps God knew I would never give Blue Monarch my total attention if the apple of my eye was still living under my roof.

This past week I realized I was going through the empty nest thing again. Three of our graduates had completed our extended WINGS program and were stepping out on their own. I had become comfortable knowing they were just down the hill and that they would occasionally pass through with their kids after work or school. But no longer. They were spreading their wings and moving on to the next chapter in their lives. And while I realized that was the goal, which we were all striving for, it still tugged at my heart to see them leave. “Geez, can’t you stay a little longer?” 

Completing this phase of our entire recovery journey is equivalent to earning a Blue Monarch doctorate degree. The work it takes to reach this point is not for the faint of heart. As I often say, “Blue Monarch is not for sissies.” The WINGS transitional program for graduates, which began in 2016, has become surprisingly successful, even to those of us who developed it. In fact, this extended year-long graduate program has a staggering 100% success rate, which is almost unheard of in the recovery community. (This statistic includes only those who complete the entire graduate program, evaluated a year beyond completion.)

I can’t help but think back to where Kayla, Mallory, and Lateisha were when they walked through our doors the very first time several years ago. As with all our families, it’s as if they walk in carrying an enormous duffle bag on their backs. The tremendous weight is nearly unbearable and as soon as they cross our threshold, the bag flops onto the floor and all sorts of ugly things roll out: shame, guilt, addiction, abuse, woundedness, unforgiveness, hate, resentment, lack of trust, and even rage. Sometimes the bag vomits the contents all at one time, other times they trickle out over the weeks and months ahead. 

I recently stumbled upon a Youtube video of a child trying to hit a pinata. The girl was blindfolded but her mom would occasionally place her hands on her daughter’s shoulders and gently guide her right or left to keep her on track. It struck me how similar this was to our relationship with these three about to venture out on their own. "You're getting colder...now warmer..."

My word, there were all the times when Kayla looked us in the eyes with great conviction and declared she was making a good, solid decision, when we all knew she was drifting off track. “Move to the right, Kayla, you’re getting colder...colder.” Fortunately, she always came back around by using two of her greatest strengths, her strong faith and her willingness to remain teachable. 

Then, reflecting on Mallory’s journey is almost too much for my heart. In fact, her story is included in my book, From My Front Row Seat, because it was one of my most profound Blue Monarch experiences. We should have renamed her Lazarus because she had so many near-death events – times when she really should have been discharged, but God made it overwhelmingly clear to me, even through a supernatural vision, that she needed to stay. “Turn around, Mallory, you need to turn completely around. Reach for the target until you can feel it.” Turns out he was right because she did turn completely around and her recovery story is remarkable.

And Lateisha, I can’t help but imagine myself saying, “Hit it harder, Lateisha! Be fierce! Show some passion!” Lateisha always had such great potential and had actually completed more education than the majority of the women we serve, but it was sometimes a struggle to get her motivated about her own future. I often felt we were more excited than she was. In my work ethics class, I discourage them from using terms that are overused, such as “determined,” but in Lateisha’s case, it’s hard to find an appropriate substitute. She has proven to be deeply determined and has quietly and steadily risen to the top.

So, as I sit back and admire these families moving on, this is what I see:

·      Kayla adores being a mom, has a thriving cleaning business that supports her family while she is attending college to become a history teacher, and shares her love for Jesus with everyone she can.  

·      Mallory overcame some earlier struggles with her son and they now have a bond that is undeniable! She loves her job as a medical assistant and her radiant smile lights up the room. No longer does she struggle with her sobriety because she has finally found the true meaning of freedom and carries it with confidence.

·      Lateisha continued to further her education, received her associate’s degree, also became a medical assistant, and was immediately offered a good paying job. She and her daughter are enjoying life together – with a passion that actually shows on their faces.

In other words, the nasty bags they carried in have been thrown away along with all their ugly contents. And now, with great strength and intensity, they get to strike at the pinata full of unexpected blessings, and be showered with good things they have earned through hard work, lots of time, many tears, and tremendous perseverance. That's not to say they won't face normal hardships from time to time. But this time they will have the tools they need to prevent those challenges from spiraling out of control. "Hit it hard! You've got this!" 

As for our empty nests, well, I realize they are never truly empty. There will always be the next one to grab by the shoulders and gently guide one way or the other. And once again, with time, we'll get to remove the blindfolds to reveal the goodies that burst out of the pinata. I look forward to it every single time because it's usually surprising, occasionally mind-blowing - but always beautiful.

Lord, thank you for the amazing privilege to walk alongside the women and children we serve. Please keep them in the palm of your hand as they face new challenges, opportunities, and decisions. Amen

Click here to read the earlier blog post about Mallory, which is included in my book, From My Front Row Seat:  http://susanatblue.blogspot.com/2022/05/the-unexpected-detour.html