Evil, you're getting sloppy.

Evil,

You must find it amusing that some people don’t even think you are real.  No doubt that must create a pretty fun playground for you.  Those of us at Blue Monarch, however, know very well that you do, indeed, exist.  We know your face, we recognize your voice, and we are familiar with your stench and the path of destruction covered in your fingerprints.
 
But from the number of tearful phone calls we are receiving, and the stacks of desperate applications in the mail, it appears you have gotten sloppy.  You see, in order for your evil plans to work, you must maintain a sensitive balance with the ones you torment.  The destruction of the soul must be slow and steady, so much so that the victim barely notices the decline.  The light must diminish one drip at a time until there is complete and total darkness.  Otherwise, your cover is blown, and people wake up.  
 
You have a couple of weaknesses that give you problems, though, and I’m sure you know what they are.  Pride and greed.  It’s hard for you to resist bragging about the things you do, so you can't help but leave clues where people can find them.  And nothing is ever enough, so you have a tendency to overreach.  That’s when you get sloppy.  That’s when people open their eyes and see you for what you really are.
 
Do you know the signs when you cross that line and get ahead of yourself?  Well, let me describe a few of them to you...
 

The high you made so incredibly euphoric suddenly becomes nasty and disgusting.  A glamorous life of crime turns into waking up at the base of a filthy toilet.  The friends who were the only ones that truly understood and cared, reveal they steal from anyone and everyone with no remorse. The love letters from the perfect man somehow turn into black eyes and chipped teeth. The people in authority who were stupid and ignorant begin saying words of wisdom that oddly ring true.  And here’s where you really mess up.  The children who meant nothing and were in the way, suddenly become precious little people who deserve much better from their mothers - even the ones still safe in the womb.  
 
You see, there are many over whom you still have enormous control and power. Their lives are miserably chaotic, which developed so gradually, nothing felt out of place.  In fact, you created entire family trees so full of despair, one more victim simply blended in completely unnoticed.  But apparently, for many others, you totally overshot and got greedy.  You made their lives so extremely painful, disgusting, and wretched, they began looking for help and thankfully found us.  
 
What you haven’t figured out is that rock bottom works for us.  That’s where we see the greatest desperation and commitment for change.  It’s from that ugly place that the most powerful transformation takes place.  Your insatiable desire to push deeper and deeper just gets them there quicker - so you are actually helping us.  Wow...that must hurt.   

 
I should probably warn you - we are fighters, and we don’t give up easily.  We never intend to give them back to you.  In fact, as the amazing women we serve begin to experience the joy and hope of total freedom from the despicable life you offer, you will become nothing more than a dim and distasteful memory.  There truly is a point of no return.  We know this because we’ve seen courageous women reach that place many, many times, and the evidence is undeniable.
 

So, until the next time you get sloppy, we will be waiting.  You will.  It’s just a matter of when.  And we will be ready.

Sincerely,

Blue Monarch Warrior 

The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy.  I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly. John 10:10

The Lion in My Kitchen

There was a lot of pressure to come back from my sabbatical this January with a powerful, new t-shirt slogan.  The last time I took this kind of break was in 2012.  During that mountaintop experience, when I pleaded for God to please help me find a way to avoid burnout again, he wisely instructed me to go back and “Serve, not fix.  Love, not judge.”This message made a significant impact on the way we operate at Blue Monarch, it has protected us from getting burned out serving others, and the words have appeared on sweatshirts and mugs ever since.  So naturally, I was looking for a similar game-changing revelation.

 

The last two weeks of this year’s month-long sabbatical was spent on the beach with Rita, my rescue dog who was an excellent traveling companion. Many times we were the only ones on the beach - couldn’t see another soul in either direction, just the way I liked it.  And I truly believe Rita loved seeing the sun come up and go down just as much as I did.  So, on the first morning as we walked along the beach at the edge of the roaring waves, I asked God, “What do you have in store for me?  Give it to me.  I’m listening.”  I may have even rubbed my hands together in anticipation. 

Surprisingly, the answer came back immediately.  I could clearly hear in my spirit, “I want you to focus on the Lord’s Prayer.”  Seriously?  What else you got? 

 

“No offense, Lord, but I was looking for something a little grander.”  I was asking for the Ten Commandments and he gave me a simple Vacation Bible School assignment.  I was a little insulted.  

 

But in order to be obedient, I began reciting the Lord’s Prayer out loud anyway to see if I could find the “hidden message”.  Surely there was one, and once I found it, hopefully I could move on to something more exciting.  

 

Well, that was eye-opening and a little embarrassing.  I couldn’t remember it.  I could recall pieces of it, but I was totally confused about the order of the phrases.  What?  How did this happen?  I realized that unless I was surrounded by others reciting it at the same time, as we often are, I couldn’t say it solo.  I had to laugh because I felt like Barney Fife struggling to recite the Gettysburg Address when Andy had to feed him every single line.  My word, this was inexcusable.

 

When I got back to my Bible, I immediately looked up the Lord’s Prayer and thought to myself, I have fourteen days here.  Wouldn’t it be great if the Lord’s Prayer could be broken down into fourteen parts and I could study a section each day?  Well, guess what.  There were exactly fourteen obvious phrases.  

I had taken one of our new leather Blue Monarch journals with me and this was going to be the perfect place to write down my discoveries about the Lord’s Prayer.  Day #1: Our Father... I made a list of characteristics for a good father, which went on for a bit.  I immediately thought of all the women we have at Blue Monarch who do not have healthy fathers like my father was, and they would probably struggle to make a similar list.  Later that same day I found my first solid, intact sand dollar, which I was super excited about and had been searching for my entire life, so I decided to be a better sport about my elementary assignment because this was clearly a consolation prize.

 

The solitude was amazing.  No phones ringing, no texts dinging, no problems to solve, and with the occasional exception of a “hello” on the beach, there was also no talking, except to let my patient husband know I was still alive at the end of the day.  It was awesome.  There was a close call when the woman next door seemed to be interested in a play date for her poofy poodle, Riley, but I made sure my body language put a stop to that pipe dream.  I was loving the peace and quiet. 

But peace and quiet forces one to think about things that otherwise get shoved aside.  I thought a lot on this trip, often in the middle of the night, about how so many things in our lives are uncertain and unsettling when we naturally crave consistency and security.  So many of our circumstances, however, are subject to outside influences or the actions of others, which we cannot control, yet they have the ability to pull the rug right out from under us and completely shake our world.  

 

Even our closest, most rock-solid relationships that should be the safest places on the planet can unexpectedly cause the greatest pain and hurt.  It’s that source of pain that results in spontaneous tears and waves of overwhelming grief - the kind that leaves us moving from one side of the room to the other just seeking a place where the hurt is not so bad.  We see this sort of pain on a daily basis at Blue Monarch.  Many of the women and children we serve have been hurt by parents and family members - the very ones who ought to provide the safest places for their hearts to rest. No wonder they have such a hard time trusting us and feeling the world is a safe place.    

 

Much to my surprise, I grew to love my Lord’s Prayer assignment. Each morning I looked forward to my new line to study, and I enjoyed the things I discovered about each section, things I had never noticed before.  For instance, isn’t it interesting that it says, “deliver us from evil” as if it’s a given that evil is something we will encounter?  It doesn’t say, “prevent us from ever facing evil.”  I even emailed our staff to make sure we focused more on the Lord’s Prayer from now on with the women and children we serve. Naturally, they tend to learn it over time, but I felt a new urgency to make sure they were provided a written copy when they arrived, and that we worked to teach the prayer to every woman and child who didn’t already know it.  I recited the Lord's Prayer so many times over those two weeks, I believe Rita even learned the words. 

 

God often speaks to me in my dreams - in fact, Blue Monarch was birthed from a dream I had many years ago.  This trip was no exception.  I had numerous dreams that felt very powerful, significant, and even prophetic, but it was the dream I had the last night that was the dearest to me. 

 

In this dream I saw an ordinary family milling around in a kitchen as if it was right after a Sunday lunch.  Everyone still had on their church clothes.  The scene looked like a hand-colored vintage photograph from the 60’s, full of muted colors I love.  There was a father, a mother, a young boy, and a little girl.  

 

Suddenly I discovered, the little girl had a magnificent lion following her around everywhere she went, but it struck me no one seemed to notice the lion as if they couldn’t even see it.  Yet it was always by her side.  How strange.  They didn't seem like the sort of family to have such an exotic pet.   

Then, all of a sudden, I looked more closely.  Wait.  My mother used to have an apron like that.  Isn’t that interesting.  And that little girl, I had a dress just like that.  Wow.  Hey, wait!  That is my own family in our kitchen on Pine Circle Drive where I grew up.  The little girl is me!

 

That’s when God very gently said, “You are my child and I have been with you from the very beginning, even when you didn’t know I was there.  I will never change, I will always love you, and I want you to start calling me, Father.”  

 

He was the lion.

At that very moment I woke up and felt tears in my eyes and on my face. I looked at the soft, morning light coming in the window and took a deep breath.  And then, as if the words were suddenly brand new, I began to pray...”Our Father,...wait, no...My Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name...”  

***********************

1. My Father
2. who art in heaven
3. hallowed be thy name.
4. Thy kingdom come,
5. thy will be done
6. on earth as it is in heaven.
7. Give me this day
8. my daily bread
9. and forgive me my trespasses
10. as I forgive those who trespass against me.
11. Lead me not into temptation
12. but deliver me from evil.
13. For thine is the kingdom, the power,
14. and the glory forever.  Amen

"Scare us, Mommy. Scare us!"

I’m not sure why this is so much fun for kids, but like many children, my daughter used to love for me to scare her and her friends when they would visit.  “Scare us, Mommy.  Scare us!”  One particular time, I exhausted every idea I could think of to get a scream out of Mary Susan and her little red-headed friend, but it was never enough, and they always wanted more.  Finally, I decided to scare them so badly they would never ask me again.  

 

“Give me about five minutes and then look for me upstairs.”

 

I ran upstairs, dressed myself completely in black, including a black turtleneck and stocking cap, and quickly grabbed a flashlight.  Then I stepped outside in the cold on our small balcony and stood in the dark while I watched through the glass and waited for them to come upstairs. 

 

The two girls never separated as they frantically ran back and forth between the bedrooms looking under every bed and behind every door.  Curiously, I saw my daughter lift the lid and peek into a two-gallon ceramic urn to see if I was hiding in it.  (She later explained she had just seen “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids” and thought there was a real possibility I might be inside.)

After exploring all nooks and crannies the two girls finally ended up on the landing right in front of the door, completely bumfuzzled as to where I might be. Perfect. 

 

Then, when they happened to face the door, I placed the flashlight under my chin and suddenly turned it on, making my head look as if it was floating in midair.  This was going to be great!

 

Well, I immediately regretted what I had done.  Both girls began screaming at the top of their lungs, absolutely scared - to - death. In a split second each girl reacted to her fear in her own unique way.  Mary Susan spun around in circles with her hands in the air, but her friend dropped to the floor shaking in complete and total terror, and for a minute I thought she was going to hyperventilate and pass out.  I clearly overshot the mission. 

 

As I look back over the past year, I feel like 2020 took “fear” and turned it into a nasty four-letter word.  Abject fear was everywhere we turned.  And just like Mary Susan and her little friend, each of us has had to deal with the fear in our own individual way. 

Math has never been my greatest strength, but I particularly hate word problems.  They never made sense to me because it always seemed like we were looking for a clear, precise, absolute answer and ignoring all the outside influences and variables that should be taken into consideration.  

 

For instance, let’s take the awful train problem.  “Train A leaves the station in Cincinnati at 8:00 a.m. traveling 60 miles per hour and Train B leaves San Francisco at 6:00 a.m. traveling 80 miles per hour.  Where and when will the two trains meet?”  

 

To me, there are a million answers to that question.  Besides the obvious time zone issues, what’s the weather?  Is there something on the tracks when they cross through some small town along the way?  Is one route steeper than another?  Did the conductor have a fight with his wife the night before?  There are so many things to take into consideration - so how can there possibly be one answer?  

 

Navigating this year of unprecedented pandemic has been much like this frustrating word problem. There are so many variables, so many things to consider, and we have each had to make the decisions that felt right for us, even if others disagreed.

 

Upon hearing the news in March that everyone needed to immediately quarantine, we totally shut down all incoming and outgoing traffic at Blue Monarch.  Our staff continued to serve our women and children remotely, but we were away from campus for many weeks while our two on-site staff members absolutely had their hands full!  Even gathering groceries and toiletries for so many women and children became a daunting task.  

 

The first thing that struck me, though, was that although I was seeing and hearing "fear" every place I turned, when I visited with our residents via zoom, I couldn’t help but notice they showed absolutely no fear.  I then realized, as I looked into each smiling face, every one of them had faced much greater fear in their lives so yes, this made perfect sense.  This virus was not their biggest fear. 

The moms really rose to the occasion and became very creative in developing activities to enjoy with their children.  The extensive time together surprisingly built stronger relationships between mothers and kids and some great memories were made during that time.  They even made me a gorgeous scrapbook that I love. Yes, for a time this isolation felt like a new adventure.

But then something began to surface that really troubled me.  The extended isolation and monotony, and separation from our staff, began to eat away at the mental health and wellbeing of our women and children. That’s when I realized, the virus was not the only thing that could impact life and death.  Mental health was just as important as physical health. Our residents are always free to walk out the door and leave, so if they left during this time out of frustration or depression, we could run the risk of relapse, overdose, abuse, or even death. All were very realistic possibilities and needed to be considered as we made decisions to protect the residents in our care. Even though it was somewhat amusing when one woman dumped an entire can of paint on the head of another woman (it was orange, by the way), we recognized that this was just a small symptom of a much bigger and rapidly growing problem.  

 

We have solved a Rubik’s cube puzzle every single day since the pandemic began.  With lots and lots of moving parts, there have been many variables to consider.  Does this person go into quarantine because she was in court?  Do we quarantine the entire family until test results come back? Should this child go to school? Should they go to church this week? Can she visit her family?

 

Thankfully our board chair, Dr. Bryan Myers, has been available to coach us as we have navigated this difficult season.  We have sometimes called him five times in one day as we have made tough decisions to protect our community.  Here at the end of 2020, I am happy and very grateful to report that we have experienced a miraculously healthy year - mentally and physically.  It’s unbelievable, really, and we give thanks.  

 

The year has actually been full of tremendous blessings and unexpected abundance.  After all, we broke ground on a beautiful, new eight-family home.  Several children were reunited with their mothers after long and painful separations. We had two graduations and celebrated as our graduates transitioned into new adventures with work and school.  A precious baby was born free from drugs in her system, and we introduced horses into our program, which immediately brought new opportunities for healing.  In fact, the fear in this girl’s face is the only kind of fear we welcome to Blue Monarch - and that’s because in about forty-five minutes it will probably be gone.  

Just like Train A and Train B, we are all making personal decisions each day the best way we know how - even if our solutions may not be the ones others might choose.  We may have left the station at the same time, but some routes are steeper than others and no two are alike.  So, the big question is, “where and when will the two trains meet?”   

 

Well, I don’t know how long it will take, or where it will happen, but I pray when both trains finally meet, it will be at a place of peace, compassion, and respect for others.  In the meantime, I pray that God will protect each of us as we travel and that he will keep our eyes open.  After all, the real tragedy will be if we miss the other train entirely.  

 

For God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of self-control.  2 Timothy 1:7 

A Not So Confidential Letter

I wrote this the other day but had not posted it yet.  This morning it took on an even deeper meaning...

Dear Howell, 

A powerful thing happened the other day.  While cleaning out my desk, I found my spiral notebook from 2002, the year I worked to get Blue Monarch started.  It was powerful to see that journey come to life in living color - hundreds of names and phone numbers of people I needed to talk to, lists of hopeful donors, notes from speaking engagements that I dreaded, questions that needed answers, and even reject names for the new organization.  The scribbled and crowded pages were still so full of energy and intensity, I could swear they would go up in smoke at any moment.  

One thing that caught my eye, however, was my note from the first attempt at creating a board.  I gathered some folks that I thought would believe in my dream and it didn’t go so well.  In fact, one new board member resigned before she even got to the meeting, and I didn’t exactly get the encouragement I was seeking.  My notes say, “Very discouraging meeting. Expected what can I do to help and here are some suggestions. Instead, I felt an overwhelming, it’s impossible.”  I ended it with a frowny face.  It was dated November 14, 2002.  

But pages later, dated December 3, I found my notes from an early conversation I had with you about the organization I wanted to develop to help women and children.  I had been introduced to you by Russ, a Rotary buddy of yours, and afterwards had sent you a detailed plan for what I wanted to do.  My notes quote you as saying, “Amazed at what you sent me...” and that is when my world shifted - and that of hundreds of women and children as well. 

 

It’s crazy, isn’t it, to imagine that even though I was a perfect stranger with nothing but an ambitious plan on paper, you and your sweet wife, Madeline, offered to secure a bank loan for nearly $1 million so we could purchase a beautiful farm to begin our ministry.  All we had to do was make the low interest monthly payments.  That closing took place just a few months later in March of 2003.  Thankfully we got the note paid off in ten years.  (I don't know who was most excited - you or me.) You have always been quick to give God all the glory for what you have done for us, but there is no telling how many people he had to go through before he found someone willing to step up to such a huge task, one that you eagerly embraced.  Well, actually, you were probably his first choice, now that I think about it.

Holy cow!  Just look at this journey we have traveled together!  Because of your blind faith and willingness to take an enormous risk, nearly 850 women and children have been offered a beautiful sanctuary to heal and recover. Over 275 children have been reunited with their mothers who had lost custody.  And over 500 children have experienced healthier relationships with their mothers.  You have marked every graduation on your calendar, and you have shown our women what it looks like for a man to adore his wife.  (This may be the greatest gift of all.)  You don't know how many times I have heard, "Did you see the way he looked at his wife?!"  That's when I would share the story you've told me many times about the day you and Madeline got engaged.

But I’m not quite sure if you realize what you did when you gave me your personal endorsement.  You didn’t just give me a pat on the back.  You looked me in the eye and said, “I believe in you.”  In fact, you left a sweet, encouraging message on my voicemail one Thanksgiving, which I refuse to delete so I can listen to it from time to time.  It always lifts me up and sets me back on track.

You see, you taught me the tremendous power of believing in others. Because of you and Madeline I get to look into the eyes (often tearful) of the courageous women we serve and tell them the very same thing.  "I believe in you."  In fact, that's what we strive to do every day at Blue Monarch.  The results are astounding and impact the entire family tree - those are some powerful words, alright.   

I am thankful you and Madeline have traveled this incredible journey along with me.  It's been tough - but I am grateful that along the way there was unexpected joy around every corner and I cherish the miracles that are still hard for me to believe.

Howell, I should probably warn you, I still take notes from our conversations and look what I ran across the other day.  Just so you know, I'm holding you to it.  And in fact, no matter who gets there first, you've got yourself a deal.  

Love,

Susan

P.S.  Howell, I just got the news of Madeline's passing last evening and my heart is broken.  I feel it's so significant she died on the very day we celebrated a beautiful wedding at Blue Monarch, a first for us.  You remember Lauren, one of our graduates who came from complete brokenness and addiction, who now flies a plane and is on our staff?  Her life was completely transformed through God's healing power at a program you and Madeline helped make possible, and she married a wonderful man who absolutely adores her.  And guess what.  I couldn't help but notice he looks at Lauren in the same way you always looked at Madeline.  I think Madeline would approve.  

  

IN LOVING MEMORY OF MADELINE ADAMS

Lord, may we never forget the tremendous power of an encouraging word. We just never know where it might lead.  Amen.

A Beautiful Place Called Rock Bottom

This may sound terrible, but back when I was the one to interview potential residents in jail, I loved to find a woman who had reached rock bottom.  I looked for the telltale sign she was really there:  she had lost everyone.

She would often be a woman who collapsed onto the metal table where we talked, crying uncontrollably, not even concerned about how she might look to the other inmates or officers wandering in and out of the room.  She was completely broken and would tell me, "I have no one."  And I was happy to hear it.

The reason I liked to find a woman who had truly reached rock bottom was because I knew she had the greatest chance of success.  She was the one who would probably make it.  Why is that?  Because she finally had to rely on herself to seek help - and there was no one to fall back on.  It was up to her and her alone.  Truth is, as long as there is someone out there who will bail her out (literally and figuratively) every time she messes up, why change?  It's working.

But what does it take to get to that point?  It takes everyone around her letting go.  Yes, it takes letting go.

This is something that comes up quite often as we talk with parents, grandparents, friends, and advocates who want to help someone they love.  They know they shouldn't give her money again, they know they should probably let her sit in jail, and they realize they are enabling her - but it's so hard to say no.  I get that.

I'll be the first to admit, if it were my own child I'm not sure I could say no.  I often compare this advice to what they tell you to do if you are in the ocean and come face to face with a shark - be still and don't move.  Seriously?  That just completely goes against nature and everything your body tells you to do.  And saying no to your child who's asking for help feels just as unnatural.
 
So I had this on my mind one day and decided to ask the experts what they thought.  I spent some time talking with the amazing women we had at Blue Monarch at the time to get their thoughts on the subject.

Here are some of the interesting things I learned:

First of all, I asked them if they thought it took getting to rock bottom to make the decision to come to Blue Monarch.  Every single one immediately said, "yes."  Interesting.

I asked them to describe what rock bottom meant to them.  Each woman said it was when she had lost all support.  One said, "It took my family leaving me for good to finally make me break."  Another said, "It wasn't until I lost everyone's support that I really started to look inside myself."  And this.  "I finally realized I was about to become another statistic and my baby was going to be a ward of the state."

I asked a tougher question.  "For all the parents out there who are afraid their daughter will hurt herself when they finally have the courage to say no - what advice do you have?  Are they really running that risk?"

"Helping them more is only fueling them to go further down - so what's the difference?"  They all nodded and agreed.  They also began giving examples of when they had threatened suicide or said others would hurt them, just to get what they wanted.

So I asked, "What should people do, then?"  All at once, each woman began throwing out answers to my question - and it was clear they were quite passionate about what they had to say...

"Have faith that God will save them!"
"Don't make bond - let them sit there."
"For sure, don't give them money whatever you do."
"Pray for them."
"Don't believe all the lies."
"Don't answer the phone."  (And this was coming from a woman who had been living under a bridge at her lowest point.)
"Tell them you love them - but be strong and don't give in."

They then began offering words of encouragement beyond the pain.

"After they get better they will see where your love was."
"They will appreciate it later."
"They know their family will return."
"Coming back to life makes you understand why your family did what they had to do."
"They will thank you for loving them like you had to."

At that point, as if they had rehearsed it in chorus, they all said, "Please don't love us to death!"

So there you go.  Tough words from women who know what rock bottom looks like and what it takes to climb out.

There's one more reason I love to see a woman who has lost all support and it's by far the most important.  Sometimes I think it takes looking around and seeing no one before she is finally ready to reach for Jesus, which is the greatest help of all.  That's why rock bottom is actually a beautiful place.  It's from there that some of the greatest healing truly begins.

So do you know someone who needs to find Rock Bottom?  It's actually not such a bad place. 


When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, "I am the light of the world.  Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life."  John 8:12

Wait for the screeching violins. Okay, now.

It was right before I started college and I had a summer job at Opryland theme park in Nashville. In fact, I still have the Opryland yearbook to prove it.  I was a cashier at the front gate.  This position had a considerable amount of stress that went along with it because we were expected to handle thousands of dollars every day and balance to the penny at the end of our shift.  However, it also came with a really great perk of an air-conditioned booth, which made it the envy of every employee on the other side of the glass who had to battle the Tennessee heat and humidity.

There were two things that really brightened our days.  First, some cashier would invariably stretch her legs a little too much and accidentally set off the silent alarm.  The park rangers would gallop to the gate on horseback only to discover it was yet another false alarm.  Most of the security guys were pretty cute so I suspected some of the mishaps were intentional, especially since one girl in particular seemed to be a repeat offender.  Go ahead.  See if you can figure out which one. 

 

The other treat was when Johnny the Clown came around to flirt with all the cashiers.  Interestingly, now that I think back, there were no male cashiers.  Only young girls.  Hmm... 

All the cashiers had a big crush on Johnny the Clown.  He had an adorable personality with a great sense of humor, which we found quite charming.  As a group, we determined he was more sophisticated than the common clown because he had gone to Ringling Brothers Clown College.  (Was there really such a thing?)  This distinction allowed us to justify having a crush on – of all things, a clown.

Much to my surprise, Johnny the Clown eventually singled me out and asked me for a date.  This immediately made a few of my coworkers jealous, so how could I possibly say no?  

 

I did give some thought to whether I could seriously date a clown and decided if it turned out to be his career choice for life and not just a summer gig, I would have to seriously reconsider our future.  In the meantime, I would keep this a secret from my friends outside of work.  

 

Johnny and I made plans to meet up after our shift.  I suddenly realized I had no idea what Johnny the Clown looked like without all his clown makeup, which was a little unnerving.  Would I even recognize him?  What if he was hideous?

 

Well, he turned out to be pretty good looking and had an adorable smile.  He was noticeably shorter without his massive clown shoes, and was surprisingly quiet, which came across as shyness that I actually found endearing.  He was very polite and quite the gentleman.  Johnny opened my door for me and casually mentioned that he needed to stop by his apartment on the way to the restaurant.  No big deal.

 

I followed him through the door to his basement apartment, which was below a brick ranch style house. (This is where the music would dramatically change if this were a movie.)

 

As I glanced around the impeccably neat apartment, I suddenly heard Johnny lock the deadbolt behind me.  When I turned around, he said in a strange, new voice, “You might as well not scream.  No one will hear you.” (Okay, now. Screeching violins.)  

 

It took a second to realize he wasn’t joking and at that point he began chasing me around the apartment. I even remember running across the bed, thinking how I had only seen that happen on TV.  “My landlady is gone for hours.  No one is going to hear you.”  I screamed anyway.  I'm not sure if I screamed for help - or screamed "what is wrong with you!" - or just screamed involuntarily like one does when riding a roller coaster.    

 

It quickly turned into a cat and mouse game as he lunged for me and I darted back and forth to get away.  I frantically scrambled for the door with every trip around the room but could never get it unlocked before having to take off again.  “Oh, sure!  Everyone LOVES Johnny the Clown, but what about Johnny the Man?  Everyone LOVES to hug and kiss Johnny the Clown – but WHAT ABOUT JOHNNY THE MAN?!”

 

(It’s okay to laugh here. Honestly, I haven’t told this story a single time in all these years, that “What about Johnny the Man” didn’t become the comeback for every possible scenario, at least for a couple of weeks.) 

 

Much to my surprise, there was a sudden knock on the door.  “Is everything okay in there?”

 

Johnny froze and then slowly walked to the door, glaring at me the whole way.  We were both out of breath from the chase and I’m sure I looked like a mess.  When he opened the door, a nice little lady was standing there.  It was his landlady – or an angel, I’m not sure which.  In looking back, that was when I should have asked her to call the police.  But I was in such a state of shock, and so incredibly naïve, I simply said, “We were just leaving.  He is taking me to my car.”  And I quickly ran out the door.

 

The landlady watched as we drove away and thankfully, he did take me to my car while neither of us said a word the whole way back to Opryland.  In looking back, it’s crazy I got back into a confined space with him, which is the kind of thing we never understand about victims of abuse.  

 

The next day, however, I made sure every girl at Opryland knew that Johnny the Man was a maniac.  I rarely saw him after that day and I looked over my shoulder the rest of the summer.  He only came back to the cashier booths one time after that, dressed like a "sad clown".  Guess that was his version of an apology, which no one accepted.  

 

This ridiculous story has been on my mind a lot lately, which is crazy since it happened so long ago. But the other night I realized why I couldn’t shake this incident from my head.

 

Let me challenge you to walk back through this event in a whole different light.  Close your eyes and imagine with me:  

 

What if, instead of a careless eighteen-year-old teenager, this story happened to an innocent five-year-old girl?

 

Just like I trusted Johnny, what if the man who locked the door was also someone she trusted, like her uncle?  Or perhaps her mother’s boyfriend, or even worse, her new husband?  

 

What if the woman at the door was not the landlady, but her mother, who ignored her daughter’s cries because she couldn’t bear the truth?  

What if the little girl dreaded getting off the bus when she got home because this happened every day after kindergarten?

“You might as well not scream.  No one will hear you.”  How many children have heard those words?  How many will hear them later today?

This may sound completely outrageous, but the other day, when I listened to yet another one of our residents describe her sexual abuse as a little girl, I suddenly felt her terror and helplessness in a whole new way.  Honestly, I think I’d heard stories like this for so long, they had eventually lost their impact on me and no longer felt real.  But as I listened to this courageous young woman, my eyes and ears opened in a way I had completely forgotten.  Her story was something no child should ever endure.  I felt her child sized pain - and fear.  

 

I’ll never know what could have happened that night if the landlady had not shown up when she did. Honestly, I think it was years before I really grasped the gravity of how that incident could have ended.  For me, it was a near miss that only left a dark, crazy story with a happy ending.  It’s embarrassing and makes me feel pretty foolish, but that experience did not leave me scarred for life.

 

However, for many of the women and children we serve, these are not just one-time incidents and they do not have happy endings.  The painful, secret burdens become a way of life that sometimes go on for years and create a lot of shame.  The trauma influences every relationship after that, causing a tremendous lack of trust for anyone and everyone - and those experiences lay the distorted foundation of self-worth that take a wrecking ball to destroy.  In the meantime, these hideous events cause them to reach for anything that numbs the pain, which makes perfect sense.

 

I often refer to the women we serve as the most courageous women I have ever known.  They have the courage to walk into a strange place and trust people they do not even know, live in community with other women and their children (and all the chaos that comes with that), and make the commitment to change every single thing about their lives.  Only because they hope and pray, to a God they may have just met, that it will give them something better – not just for themselves, but for their children, as well.  

 

It’s easy to have empathy for the children we serve, isn’t it?  After all, they are so innocent and helpless and had no control over their circumstances.  But you know what?  We sometimes forget that the women we serve – are those same children grown up. 

 

In our line of work, it’s easy to become callous to the stories we hear.  Sadly, the tales of abuse become so commonplace, they even become predictable.  However, we become part of the problem when we allow something as hideous as child sexual abuse to become a non-event.  Just because we have heard the story before, doesn’t make it any less painful for the one telling it in that moment.

 

To do our jobs well, I believe we need to stop every once in a while, and really put ourselves in the shoes of the women and children we serve.  I came close to trying them on one crazy summer – and it was no picnic.  But for many, those painful shoes were shoved on their feet when they were children, and they didn't come off for a very long time – sometimes just days before they crossed our threshold.  Those tired, worn-out shoes have got to hurt – really bad.  And may we never, ever forget that.

Lord, thank you for a beautiful sanctuary where women and children can truly heal from trauma and brokenness.  May we never minimize their pain, always respect their journeys, and strive to serve them well.  Amen  

 

Listen carefully to the bark.

 

I was excited to get home in time to see the sun go down, so I grabbed my two dogs and headed for the bluff with a box of Extra Toasty Cheezits to munch on.  Yes!  This was nice.

Right when the bluff was in sight, both dogs took off like rockets, barking like crazy.  It was not their “let’s have fun” bark.  It was their “DANGER IS IN THE AREA” bark.  They frantically scrambled back and forth along the bluff’s edge and occasionally disappeared onto the next level that creates a shallow rock ledge.

Suddenly I realized, there was a third bark in the mix.  It was a high pitch yelp that sounded like a small, yappy dog or maybe even a puppy.  Oh no!  We live in a pretty remote area and border a state park so I couldn’t even imagine how this helpless little dog survived to make it to this spot.  At the very least, it must be starving.

 

There was a lot of commotion as my dogs barked their heads off and the poor little puppy yelped and yelped, no doubt scared to death.

 

It took a lot of work and they fought me the whole way, but I finally got ahold of my dogs to practically drag them into the garage.  “That’s no way to treat a helpless little dog!  That may be your brother or sister soon, so you’d better be nice!”  I began to imagine a sweet new addition to our family.

I grabbed a bowl of dog food, threw some tasty meat scraps on top, and headed back to rescue the stranded puppy in peace.  After setting the food at the edge of the bluff, I leaned out as far as I could to get a glimpse of the little dog. I couldn’t see anything, but I could hear it panting nearby.  Yeah, it had to be terrified.

For some time I sat there coaxing the dog, in my best baby voice, to come get a bite to eat.  “You can come out now.  It’s safe. I have some food for you...”  I patiently waited but it never made an appearance.  Meanwhile I could still hear my dogs barking hysterically in the background.  “Don’t worry.  The big bad dogs won’t hurt you.  They are locked up where they can’t get to you.”

 

Eventually, my husband showed up and I filled him in on the situation.  We both assumed the puppy had gotten trapped at the same spot two of our dogs found many years ago when Clay had to rescue them.  

 

That time, it was a small ledge about ten feet off the bluff that only gave the dogs two choices.  Either jump up ten feet or fall about a hundred feet.  That time Clay had to scoot down to the ledge and supernaturally toss each dog over his head to save them.  We have both scratched our heads over how in the world he managed that – must be like the adrenalin rush when a mother lifts a car to save a child.  

 

Neither of us could see the stranded puppy so Clay got a ladder and positioned it with one end on the ground, and the other end resting in a tree off the bluff.  It created a sort of platform so he could carefully crawl out to get a good look at the dog and assess the situation.  He found it, alright, just a few feet below.

“That’s no puppy!  It’s a coyote!  And a really big one at that!”  It appeared to be starving and maybe even injured, which would only make it more dangerous. 

Suddenly the entire episode looked completely different to me and about made my head spin.  How could I have been so wrong?  I pictured myself just a few feet from the coyote with a bowl of meat scraps, “you can come out now...”  It was shocking how different the whole scene looked once I knew what was really there.  No wonder my dogs were going nuts.  They were trying to protect me, and I locked them up.    

 

This whole incident reminds me so much of what we see at Blue Monarch from time to time.  Sometimes I feel like we scramble back and forth to protect the women we serve, barking, “DANGER!  DANGER!”, but occasionally a few will convince themselves they know better.  They will insist they can keep one foot in the new life and one foot in the old, even though we have never found that to be successful.  Not even once.

 

“It’ll be fine.  I can still hang out with my old crowd when I leave, and I will even influence them to do better.  You’ll see.”

 

“I can go back to that old relationship.  He’s going to LOVE the new me.”

 

“I can take prescription drugs when I’m overwhelmed.  Don’t worry, I won’t abuse them.”

 

What’s worse, though, is that they often have a family member who will actually encourage and support their unhealthy choices, and place that bowl of meat scraps right in front of them where they can get a good whiff. Sometimes I feel like saying, “Dear Enabler.  Please stop.  You are undoing all our hard work.”

 

There have been a few of these type disappointments over the past year, when no amount of reasoning made a difference.  One actually came very close to a devastating, tragic end doing it her way.  But despite the times when things haven't gone exactly the way we’d like - this is what still gives me hope.

 

Just like the scripture we use for our Children’s Program this can also apply to the grown women we serve. (Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not turn from it.  Proverbs 22:6) 

 

In the recovery arena we hear a lot of talk about giving people tools for their tool belts.  But this is no construction project.  It's a fight - a battle for life.  So, every single day at Blue Monarch, we hand each woman a new weapon she can use to protect herself and her children.  We invest a profound amount of time and energy into building her arsenal so she will be prepared to fight for her recovery and her family when she finds herself in a treacherous spot. 

You see, there is going to come a day when she comes face to face with an adorable little puppy, only to discover it's a wicked coyote suddenly looking her in the eyes.  Our prayer is that in that vulnerable moment, she will reach for her weapons and courageously say, "You can come out now.  I'm ready to fight.  And guess what - I intend to win."  

"You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world."    

1 John 4:4