Navigating Family Gatherings When Politics Clash with Jesse Schroeder

Navigating family gatherings during politically charged times can be tricky, but it doesn’t have to be impossible. In my latest blog post, I share lessons learned from a recent trip to visit family after the election, along with practical tips for fostering understanding and maintaining healthy boundaries. For a deeper dive into the topic, listen to my conversation with Licensed Social Worker Jesse Schroeder, where we discuss how to navigate these situations with compassion and care. You can read the full article and tune into our conversation below.

Navigating Family Gatherings When Politics Clash

My wife and I had planned a weekend trip to visit my parents in early November, just after her birthday. We looked forward to the time away and always enjoyed hanging out with my family. Then, the election happened. It's common knowledge—in that we've talked about this openly—that we tend to vote differently from my family. We were grieving, unsure if we had the energy to be around loved ones who might be ready to throw a celebration.

Before we left, we decided to be upfront and honest. We sent a few texts, sharing our grief, acknowledging that they might feel differently, and honestly asking them if the environment would be focused on the election. We tried to approach it with curiosity—all we wanted to do was gauge the tone before we arrived.

As it turned out, my family was incredibly understanding and respected our feelings. We went and had a wonderful time—everyone was respectful, and our concerns were met with compassion. It was a best-case scenario, a real testament to my family, and perhaps not the norm. But that weekend reminded us how meaningful it can be when family meets us where we are, even in our differences.

Navigating family relationships can be challenging, especially when politics come into play. In the advice below, I've shared some principles that might help create more understanding and healthy dialogue in times of tension, particularly around political differences. However, these suggestions might not work in every situation. They might only work with a foundation of emotional intelligence and mutual respect. Had I tried having this conversation years ago with my family, before we'd learned to discuss our differences in a healthy way, I'm confident it wouldn't have gone as well. All that to say, every family, situation, and need is unique. 

Family dynamics are complex for many, and coming together can stir up deep-seated roles and patterns. Sometimes, we fall into familiar routines or mindsets from childhood—even as adults. Sometimes, family members may not be ready or willing to have open conversations, especially if past traumas or unaddressed issues are part of the picture.

As my friend Jesse recently pointed out, expecting certain behaviors from people who may not be equipped to offer them is like trying to order a steak dinner at a fast-food restaurant—it's just not on the menu. While we may be able to offer grace and patience, we're not responsible for managing others' emotions, especially when it comes to deeply held beliefs.

With that in mind, I hope the following advice serves as a helpful guide for those moments when meaningful conversation is possible and family members are open to sharing perspectives. In reality, some of this advice might not work for many reasons, and if you're reading this and feeling triggered, please take care of yourself. Never put yourself in a situation where you feel unsafe. On the other hand, if your family is committed to healthy communication, here are some ideas to get you started.  

1. Lead with Honesty and Openness

The healthiest foundation for any conversation is one rooted in sincerity, free from ulterior motives. You can't control what other people think or believe. All you can do is be honest about what you believe. Learning to be honest with those you disagree with in a non-judgmental way is a discipline that takes practice and one that I'm still learning for myself. The best advice I can give you is this: 1. Let go of your expectations. If you share something with the expectation that they will accept you, agree with you, or change their minds, you're not only setting yourself up for disappointment, but your honesty might come across like it has an agenda. Anytime we're "honest" with the intent to change someone, it stops being about our honesty and more about the agenda, no matter how hard we try to mask it. Let go of your expectations and focus on speaking your truth. 2. Be clear, concise, and kind. This remains the best advice for any heightened or tense conversation. The more clear, concise, and kind you can be, the more opportunities you will have for ongoing conversations. When we're ambiguous, long-winded, and unkind, there is a significant risk of escalating things, and in the end, escalation will produce the opposite results we want. Escalation destroys connection, whereas being clear, concise, and kind encourages connection. 3. Remain positive. Express your excitement for the time together instead of only acknowledging potential differences. This not only shares your viewpoint but also subtly encourages family members to reflect on how they might contribute to a positive environment. Bring everyone's focus back to what you're really there for: connection. Remind the family that, in spite of different beliefs, you're excited to spend time together because family goes beyond these divisions. 

2. Set Clear Boundaries

You can't change someone's mind, and you certainly can't fix anyone's problems by yourself. All you can do is set healthy boundaries. This might look 100 different ways, whether it's being intentional about how much time you spend with your family or the topics you're willing to discuss. Mentioning boundaries shouldn't feel like setting ultimatums. When boundaries are used in a threatening way, it will have the opposite effect you're hoping for. Instead of saying, "We need to avoid talking about politics, or I'll stop visiting," you could say, "I'm happy to talk about politics if it feels constructive, but if it turns heated, I may step away to keep the peace." It's okay to advocate for yourself and do what you need to take care of yourself without leaning into ultimatums.  

Healthy boundaries are the key to self-care. They require refusing to ignore the things that cause you pain. While there are times when it's best to avoid conversations, it's healthier to get things out into the open when possible. 

In fact, sometimes, trying to avoid tension can amplify it, so be willing to name the elephant in the room. And remember, because it can’t be repeated often enough, be clear, concise, and kind. You can say something like, "I know we see some things differently, but my hope is we can keep it light or shift topics if it starts to feel too personal for anyone." Giving permission to feel uncomfortable can go a long way toward relieving tension in your family. 

3. Remember: It's Okay To Sit This One Out

Sometimes, preserving your well-being means deciding not to attend a family gathering—or to only attend for a limited amount of time. It's not an easy choice, but it can be a necessary one. If you feel emotionally unprepared for the conversations or the environment, it's okay to say, "I need to sit this one out." There is nothing wrong with taking time to process, recharge, and protect your mental health. You might consider letting your family know it's not about a lack of love but about self-care, but that depends entirely on what you think they are able to "hear." Or you could offer a follow-up plan, such as scheduling a phone call or a smaller get-together when emotions aren't running as high. Or if you're worried about repercussions, I think it can be healthy to provide a simple excuse for why you can't come—or why you have to leave early. 

Family relationships are complex, and every situation is different. The best you can do is take care of yourself, get advice from those you trust, and keep everything kind.

Exploring the Divides: Empathy for Rural America's Justified Anger

In this article and podcast conversation, we explore the deep divides and shared humanity within rural Appalachia, reflecting on the economic struggles, cultural pride, and systemic neglect that shape the region’s political identity. Drawing from a firsthand encounter with a "Trump Parade," the discussion challenges stereotypes and critiques both the right's exploitative promises and the left's disconnect from rural values. We delve into the paradoxes of faith, politics, and community, calling for empathy and a Christlike approach to seeing God’s image in others. You can read or listen to the full article below and listen to the podcast for an engaging conversation, unpacking these themes further.

Exploring the Divides: Empathy for Rural America's Justified Anger

Written by Matt Fratczak
Edited by Joe Graves

The weekend before the election, I drove through rural Appalachia, from Lewisburg, WV, to Rainelle, a small industrial town. Unknowingly, I found myself in front of a "Trump Train" stretching behind me for miles. Along the route, people with Trump/MAGA merchandise, “F-Biden” flags, beat-up trucks, and four-wheelers lined the road, waving, honking, and greeting each other in solidarity. They were there to show support and to vent their frustrations with the political establishment.

Curious, I pulled over in Rupert, WV and asked an elderly couple what was happening. The woman, petite and over 70 with white permed hair, softly explained that a “Trump Parade” was coming through. She smiled as she proudly stretched out her large MAGA flag across her vehicle. 

When we think of the recent presidential elections, undoubtedly strong emotions quickly come bubbling to the surface.  For some, it evoked pride and hope; for others, it brought despair or disbelief. I’ll be honest and say that I fall into the latter category. As a family medicine physician living in rural Appalachia (people living here pronounce it "Apple-atch-ya" as in I threw an "Apple-atch-ya"), I see this struggle daily. My wife and I, also a physician, are raising our children here in southern West Virginia, a region rich in history and culture but steeped in poverty.

This area is rural and economically strained, with poverty rates over 20%. In Rupert, WV, where I stopped along the parade route, the poverty rate is an astonishing 43.5%. Coal, the backbone of many families’ livelihoods, is part of the cultural fabric here. This plays a part in West Virginia being among the most dangerous states to work in, with alarming fatality rates. Investment in public services is shockingly low. Schools struggle, healthcare access is limited, and nearly every family has been touched by the drug epidemic and overdoses. 

Water quality is another critical issue—many counties have health-based violations under the Safe Drinking Water Act. Hauling water in the back of pick up trucks is not uncommon practice here, as well-water is unreliable and can be unsafe. Two of my 3 neighbors haul water for domestic use, making trips every few days. I think it is fair to say inequity here is equitable. Everyone feels the disadvantage on some level, although some much more severely than others. I have not even touched on the problems of unemployment and a myriad of other issues.

These challenges can feel overwhelming.

Driving away from the Trump supporters, I felt disheartened that this is where people have placed their hope and anger. I felt sad that the perceived political savior of their circumstances is a (failed) New York City businessman, real estate mogul, and overall narcissistic, billionaire Capito-Fascist. I have little doubt this man has zero concern for exploited Appalachians. How can the rural people I interact with on a daily basis—who I would describe as kind, charitable, humble, and caring for their immediate neighbor—support Donald Trump? And yet here we are, lined out on the streets to demonstrate support and express collective anger. 

Recently, I read a Facebook post that mentioned the “uneducated rural working class”, faulting them for Trump’s reelection. I’ve seen many others reflect similar sentiments.  I  have to wonder if these posts often imply the inferiority of “simple” and “ignorant country folk". A prejudice I wholeheartedly stand against. 

Maybe the answer goes back to the fact that "uneducated" rural voters have a good reason to be angry? Economic and social neglect has left these communities feeling abandoned. Coal remains a proud legacy here; during WWII, it was essential to America’s efforts, and the national reliance on coal is not forgotten. It can not be overstated how much pride there is in coal and those who mine it. If you’re unfamiliar with this, check out the PBS documentary “King Coal.” Coal in some communities has the same level of loyalty as college football teams have in major cities. So when clean energy is promoted without clear alternatives for these communities, it’s unsurprising that residents are resistant. Imagine a political party that built its platform on removing the local college football team? Would there be any protest?

 I don’t believe Trump’s support of coal is altruistic, but I also wonder if progressives have not only failed to provide viable paths forward, but have also misunderstood the values and legacy of the voters they hope to reach.

As much as Trump has won their favor, I fear that progressives have pushed them away. 

A 2021 research paper concluded, "that political conservatives are significantly more charitable than liberals at an overall level.” Other studies have determined that both liberal and conservative urban and suburban areas are nearly equivalent in their opposition to low-income housing developments in their immediate area. Yet, it is rural (and thus typically conservative) areas that tend to have the most diverse socioeconomic interactions, while big cities (and thus typically liberal) tend to be the most socioeconomically segregated communities. Both sides have their hypocrisy.

Please do not misunderstand, I have met both urban and rural individuals who seem to reflect God’s heart in how they live, along with urban and rural people who spew hate. It’s complicated and we can’t generalize. My goal here isn’t to contribute to the generalizations, but to challenge the assumptions we make about people, on both sides of the aisle. 

Are there underlying socio-economic issues in rural communities and willful, systemic neglect from our current political structure that have marginalized these voters? Yes.

Have the seemingly arrogant and uncaring attitudes prevalent in progressive circles toward rural Americans made them unsupportable by those who would most benefit from their policies? Also, yes. 

But did Jesus take the greatest issue with followers of the Pharisees or the Pharisees themselves? The answer is obvious. .

I wish to be clear that my opposition is against misguided beliefs and hateful notions, not the ordinary people who hold them. I find the so-called "Christian" support and worship of Donald Trump deeply troubling. At times I would go as far as to say it’s idolatry, and find Trump’s rhetoric a desecration of God's love and God’s justice. I hope to see a rapid end to the decidedly anti-Christian “Christio-Nationalism” that is part of the far-right ideology. As Jesus himself said, “Worship the Lord your God and serve him only” (Luke 4:8).

But I also want to invite us to see God’s image in the people we talk about. 

I have recently been focused on the scriptural contradictions (at first glance) in the teachings of Jesus, both compared against Paul, the Old Testament, and at times seemingly Jesus himself. I’m wondering if these contradictions are where we find God and truth. We find something that is known and unknown, overtly simple and yet unfathomably nuanced. 

We thirst for righteousness yet are called to be meek. 

We follow Jesus who was fully human yet fully divine. 

Perhaps, thinking about our relationship with our neighbors should be no different, embracing the paradox of human experience. I wonder if it’s only in that tension—and even paradox—that we are most likely to find a way forward.

Life is a Storm by Nello Jennings

In this episode of Blank Page, I share a raw and honest conversation with Nello, whose powerful poem, Life is a Storm (available below and on the podcast), captures the resilience required to weather life’s fiercest challenges. Nello opens up about his personal experiences with violence and its deep impact on families, offering wisdom and hope for those navigating their own storms. His story is a profound reminder of why the work of the Columbus Violence Reduction Fund is so crucial in creating safer, stronger communities. Listen in as Nello’s journey inspires us to face life’s struggles with courage and find hope in the midst of pain.

Life’s a Storm

By Nello Jennings

Life—

Life’s a storm.

One minute, calm.

Then boom!—the next, 

You’re being knocked off course, 

Just trying to stay afloat.

I’ve been there.

More funerals,

Than weddings.

Life doesn’t just bruise you—

It tattoos you.

The pain,

Leaves a mark. 

Like fresh ink—

On dry skin.

I carry that pain with me—

My Uncle Dex, 

My Friends Terrence and Devonte. 

Their absences—

Are felt present, 

Every day.

That pain—

Doesn’t just disappear—

Or fade away. 

So, what do you do?

Do you let it weaken you—

Or do you let it strengthen you?

Cus once— 

You’ve weathered one storm.

You start learning,

How to face the next storm.

That pain, 

It shapes you.

It can make you stronger, 

Strong enough to stand tall.

And the truth— 

The truth is,

Pain teaches:

Pain teaches us, 

That storms,

Don’t last forever.

The Rain,

Will start to clear.

The Winds,

Begin to settle.

And eventually, 

The Sun breaks through.

Then—

Then you’re faced with a choice:

Do you stay stuck,

In the wreckage of your past?

Or do you grab the wheel of your destiny,

And steer towards a better future?

A future of change.

And change? 

It’s tough.

It’s like a butterfly—

A butterfly doesn’t wake up and fly.

It starts in a cocoon—

A place that’s uncomfortable,

But necessary.

That struggle,

Is part of the process.

And in the process of growth, 

You must shed the old you.

And like the cocoon, 

Community is there,

To hold us when times get hard.

It’s the support we need to break free,

In order to become who we’re meant to be.

You want to fly?

You’ve got to shed the skin of your past

Lean on community.

Change doesn’t have to start big.

Sometimes, it’s just small steps—

It might not seem like much—

Like a bus pass—

But that bus pass?

It’s a ticket—

A ticket to opportunity. 

A step forward.

And the more steps you take,

The more—

You’ll feel your wings,

Begin to unfold.

We’re not meant to,

Only survive—

We are meant to soar.

We are meant to be restored, 

We’re meant to rebuild, 

We are meant to rise from the ashes,

We are meant to spread our wings into a new existence—

An existence of—

Possibility and purpose.

Let’s defy the odds,

Of who we once thought we were,

And flourish in the belief of—

Who we can become.

Because the storm—

the storm has passed.

The skies are open.

And it’s time to,

Now—

Spread your wings, 

To fly.

The 2024 Election Results: Understanding Our Grief and Finding a Way Forward

Listen to the recording or keep scrolling to read the article.

I struggle with anxiety. On a normal day, I take anxiety medication to keep my mind balanced. That’s on a normal day, when life is consistent and there aren’t monumental changes happening in the world; when I’m not sitting two hours in a dentist chair with a drill burning through my teeth.

The week before, I had chipped my tooth, right around a filling, and found out I needed a crown. I’ve gotten crowns before, and it never gets easier. Dentists make me anxious. This time, my dentist offered me anxiety medicine for the procedure. The fact that she offered it goes to show just how anxious I become at the Dentist’s office. 

I said “yes!” and for $9.99 at my local pharmacy, I took some medication that made me both drowsy and very chill. 

It just so happens that my appointment for the crown was yesterday—election day! The fact that I was on extra-strength anxiety meds the day of the election seemed to be the kind of coincidence I often ascribe to God’s provision. 

It helped. 

But then it wore off, and here we are—it’s 4am, I’m wide awake…. to an election that seems all too clear.

Google search screenshot at 3:58am, Nov. 6th, 2024

If you know me, you know how I feel about the election results.

Maybe you feel the same way: discouraged, anxious, or even afraid.

As I think about those who identify as LGBTQ+, New Americans, African Americans, women, progressives—and pretty much anyone who isn’t sympathetic to male-centric, white nationalism—I can’t help but feel my heart break. 

Has all the progress we made for nothing? 

We could have had our first female president!

Hate will become our national motto!

It feels more and more like our country has a toxic relationship with an abusive partner. 

What the f*&k is going on!?

In moments like these, I want to yell,  get angry, refuse to accept it, give into despair, and argue my way to a better world—and pretty much every other stage of grief.

In some ways, maybe that’s what we need—the stages of grief. If you’re on social media or read the news, you’ll see all of these stages play out if significant ways.

Stages of Grief

1. Denial: In moments of shock or disbelief, it's natural to feel like the results aren't real or that they won’t have a lasting impact. Give yourself space to sit with this initial reaction, and let your mind adjust to what has happened. You might feel numb or struggle to accept the reality of the situation, but acknowledging the impact is the first step. Talking to friends or journaling about your thoughts can help ground you.

2. Anger: As reality sinks in, you may feel angry or frustrated. These emotions are valid and can be channeled constructively. Rather than letting anger consume you, consider using it as motivation to seek change. Engage in healthy expressions of anger, such as speaking with friends, joining advocacy groups, or focusing on causes that align with your values. Expressing anger mindfully can prevent it from building up inside and clouding your perspective.

3. Bargaining: When anger fades, it’s common to start bargaining, hoping for a different outcome or thinking, "Maybe if I do this, things will change." Recognize that while this is a natural response, it’s not a solution. Instead, use this stage to clarify your values and focus on what you can control. Focusing on small, meaningful actions that align with your principles can bring a sense of agency, helping to center you amid uncertainty.

4. Depression: Many experience deep sadness when they realize the outcome is unchangeable. In this stage, prioritize mental health. Talk to a counselor, reach out to friends, or practice creative outlets like art or music to process your feelings. Practicing mindfulness can be a powerful tool in managing stress and anxiety. Simple techniques like deep breathing, meditation, and grounding exercises can help you stay present and reduce feelings of panic. Remember, the goal isn’t to suppress or dismiss your emotions but to allow yourself to process them in a way that is healthy.

5. Acceptance: This stage isn’t about being content with the situation but about accepting the reality enough to move forward with purpose. Acceptance here is about grounding yourself in the present, understanding the results, and recognizing your place within it.

While I know that’s what I need, the idea that I would someday be able to “accept” the unacceptable makes me want to throw up. That’s why they are stages that look a lot more like a ball of tangled yarn than a straight line.. 

You can’t will your way to the end.

This is not passive acceptance as if we’re expected to be happy about it. It’s about reaching an acknowledgment of reality.

In an election that was built on a total rejection of reality, accepting reality might be our only antidote. This kind of acceptance allows us to recognize what is, even if it isn't what we hoped for, and equips us to respond with resilience and purpose rather than resignation.

From this place, we can start to think constructively about how to make a difference.

What stage are you on?

I’m in no place to look for acceptance.

I need more time.

If that’s you, that’s ok.

Take your time.

​​In Prophetic Lament, Soong-Chan Rah describes lament as an essential, honest expression of sorrow and pain before God, a practice deeply rooted in the Bible, especially in the book of Lamentations. He argues that lament is not merely about personal sorrow; it’s a communal act that acknowledges injustice and brokenness in the world. How appropriate this is today! It’s not about how I feel, but how we feel together.

In his words, “Lament in the Bible is a liturgical response to the reality of suffering and engages God in the context of pain and suffering… Lament recognizes the struggles of life and cries out for justice against existing injustices” (Prophetic Lament, p. 45). This form of prayer allows us to bring our grief and frustrations to God, creating a space for honest dialogue about the world’s suffering and our role in addressing it.

Yes, we have a role in addressing it—when we’re ready.

Here are a few more ideas for moving towards acceptance, so we can bring about change together. There’s nothing original here, but I hope they serve as a helpful reminder, like they have for me.

Stay Informed but Set Boundaries

In times of uncertainty, it’s natural to want to stay informed about the latest news and developments. However, it’s equally important to set boundaries to protect your mental health. Constantly reading distressing news can lead to anxiety and burnout. Try limiting how often you check the news each day and avoid social media if it’s triggering more fear than hope.

Consider curating sources that offer reliable, balanced information and that uplift positive stories of resilience, justice, and hope. Knowing when to step back and take a breather doesn’t mean you’re disengaged; it means you’re choosing a sustainable way to stay informed while taking care of yourself.

I recently gave a talk on this, alongside my friend, Jesse, a licensed Social Worker. In this talk, I share some sobering truth about the pervasiveness of news and how it impacts our mental health and we offer some healthy practices to try. You can listen to that talk here.

Focus on What You Can Control

In times like these, it’s easy to feel powerless. However, focusing on things you can control can help restore a sense of agency. Take small steps that align with your values and contribute to the causes you care about. Whether it’s donating to organizations, volunteering, or supporting a local initiative, every action counts.

If you’re in a position to help others, consider supporting vulnerable individuals in your community. As our friend Fred Rogers once said, 

When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping'

Be a helper. Offer a safe space, be an advocate, and be a reliable source of encouragement. Empowering others and being there for people who need you most can foster a shared sense of resilience and hope.

Here is a prayer that has helped many people reconcile what they can and cannot do in tough situations: 

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.

Embrace Community and Connection

When things are heavy, there is strength in the community. Being part of a supportive community doesn’t just lift you up; it can also help you realize that you are not in this alone. A strong community can provide encouragement, resources, and shared experiences that reinforce resilience.

I’m so grateful for our community at Cityview Church. To help us process the election, we created an online group with live chat. There wasn’t a lot of activity, but the few posts that came through were encouraging and filled with hope and wisdom, and it helped me not feel alone. If you’re looking for a place to make a difference and feel connected, you’re always welcome. 

You might also consider connecting with advocacy organizations or groups that support LGBTQ+ rights, immigration, Black Lives Matter, or women’s rights. Joining these communities not only offers solidarity but can also open avenues to actively participate in efforts to bring about positive change. Even small, consistent efforts as part of a community can have lasting effects.

Advocate for Change in Your Sphere of Influence

Not everyone can be on the front lines of advocacy, but everyone has a sphere of influence—whether it’s your family, friends, workplace, or community. Start conversations, share resources, and use your voice to promote understanding, empathy, and justice within these spaces. Sometimes, the most impactful change happens close to home, where you can create meaningful dialogue and advocate for inclusivity and acceptance.

Even small actions like reaching out to a family member, hosting a community discussion, or participating in local organizations can have ripple effects. Creating a more just and accepting world begins with conversations, actions, and changes in the spaces where we have influence.

Moving Forward with Purpose

The path ahead may feel daunting, but hope and purpose can be found in community, self-care, and small acts of courage and kindness. Each day, you have the chance to show up for yourself, your community, and the values you hold dear. Together, we can navigate these times with resilience, standing up for what matters and working to create a more inclusive, compassionate world.

You are not alone. We’re in this together. 

Take heart. The journey toward justice and equality continues, and you are part of it. We can’t give up.

Let's Talk About Mental Health

I’m seeing more and more people talk about mental health. With friends struggling with anxiety and depression, a couple colleagues committing suicide, and marriages falling apart around me… we need to talk about mental health.And I’m seeing people talk about it online and in articles… but I feel most of these shorter posts end with: don’t be ashamed to get help.Ok. Fine. I’m ready to get help.That’s where I found myself over a year ago.I was ready. I was over the stigma. I talked about it’s value. I encouraged others to see a counselor. I mentioned it in sermons.I remember the moment when I finally said, “I’m doing it!”Based on how it’s talked about, I figured once I reached that point and I took the leap towards seeking help, things would just fall into place.I couldn’t have been more wrong.That’s when things got really hard.For two reasons: First, once you start working on stuff, well, life gets harder for a while, not better. But second, finding the right kind of help, figuring out how to pay for it, figuring out insurance, and learning to navigate it all… well, that’s a whole other world of stress to add to someone already overwhelmed.That’s the struggle I haven’t heard people talk about as much. And so if you’re ready to start this journey, and you want to know some of the struggles that lay ahead… well, read on.(If you’d prefer not to know, because of fear you might not keep moving forward… well, stop reading. Seriously.)So, from my experience, here are the five barriers to getting help and how I tried to overcome them.

1. It’s expensive.

I remember when Allyssa and I first went to see a counselor. We both did separate intake interviews, each costing around $100. Then they informed us we would need to both see a counselor, no less than once a week, for the foreseeable future, each costing $100 each. That would be a $200/per week increase in our personal budget. Friends, that wasn’t going to happen. Canceling Netflix and avoiding coffee shops wasn't going to make up the difference.We explained that to them, and they sent us to the front desk to find more affordable options. I remember joking, in the most depressing way possible, with the receptionist: “It’s kind of funny. We came to get marriage counseling in part because of our financial problems, but of course, because of that, we can’t afford the counseling.” It wasn’t funny at all. But the struggle is real.There is no easy solution for this. For us, it took about a year to change our financial situation, by reworking our personal and church budget to have the money to get the counseling we need. For some, putting counseling off for a year isn’t an option. I don’t have much advice, other than, it’s hard, and if you’re struggling, I see you. And I personally would love to help you figure out how you can afford it, even if you just need someone to chat with about it.

2. Insurance is annoying. Even good insurance.

Sure, we have insurance. I hear it’s not the worst insurance. In fact, they even cover 6 free counseling sessions! The problem is navigating all of that is extremely difficult. I recently got connected with a therapist I actually enjoy, and reached out to our provider to see if it was covered in the plan. Two weeks later, it still wasn’t resolved, and I’ve already seen the person twice, which means I’ll be paying for that out of pocket. (Not to mention, it will likely not end up being covered at all). Insurance is hard. Money is hard. And people who are seeking help, like myself, might already struggle with anxiety… so the last thing we need is more things to be stressed about.There’s no easy way around this. The best advice is to set aside time in your schedule to work on this. Making phone calls, sending emails, and following up with them takes energy and time, and if you’re in the midst of a struggle, this will feel like the feather that breaks the camel’s back. So please be resilient, and keep at it. And, reach out to me or someone you trust.Having a friend, who’s navigated the system, talk through it with you, is one way to calm some of that stress. It might not fix the issue, but it can help bring clarity.

3. Finding the right counselor is hard.

A counselor/therapist isn’t like any other doctor. When it comes to other medical professionals, I can put up with just about anyone, as long as they do their job well. Not the case with a counselor. If I’m going to open up, I need someone I’m comfortable with. There’s no formula to determine if someone will be comfortable, which means the only way to find out, is to try. So not only do you have to navigate how you’re going to pay for it, and whether insurance covers it, but the first couple counselors you see might not even be the right fit… (which will feel like wasted money, it’s not). All of this only complicates your personal budget issues and the insurance process. This is yet another barrier to getting the help we need.The best advice I can give us this: give yourself time. It might not feel like you have time, and if you’re in an emergency situation, stay with someone even if they aren’t the right fit. Most counselors are going to be good enough to get you to a more stable place. Once you’re there, you can start shopping around. But you can’t put this off forever. Finding the right fit can make all the difference. Don’t ever feel obligated to keep a counselor just because you’ve started with them. this is about you getting healthy, and you need to be assertive. Which leads to number four:

4. It’s a terrible time to have to be assertive.

If you’re having a hard time, and you’re like me, it’s the last season in your life where you feel empowered to be assertive. You’re seeking help; which means if we’re honest, we just want someone to fix our problems and tell us what to do. This might be what we want, but it’s not what we need. We need to be assertive.I didn’t want the gender of my counselor to matter. As I strive to be more open-minded and respectful of all people in all kinds of professional positions, I wanted to be able to get help from whoever. So when I started this journey, I didn’t think it was appropriate to ask for a male counselor. The truth is, given what I was working through and where I’m at in my own journey, gender mattered to me. Things had to get pretty desperate for me before I finally asked someone, “Do you know of any male counselors I could see?” I was surprised how ok they were with that question. I was immediately recommended to someone, and it made all the difference. I had to learn that it takes being assertive.The barrier, of course is obvious: if you’re in the throes of struggle, and feeling down and out, being assertive might not feel like an option.Maybe you don’t have the strength to be assertive. If so, start where you are. See anyone who will see you, but as you grow, step out and work towards finding the right person who can help you get to the next level. In other words, it’s going to take time. Which leads to number five.

5. We’re all too busy

No one has time in their day to see a counselor. We’re busy. I’m busy. You’re busy. The time it takes to search for a counselor, figure out insurance, rework your budget, go to a counselor, find a different one because that one wasn’t the right fit, and then go weekly, or bi-weekly… no one has time for that. This is a real barrier. My journey of finding a counseling kept getting pushed off, for what turned into years.But this isn’t the worst part of being too busy. The truth is, not only are we too busy, but everyone else is too busy too. There’s nothing worse than knowing you need community, and unable to find it because everyone is just as overwhelmed as you. If you’re struggling, and you’re really struggling, you will at some point feel like your friends, peers, and supportive network don’t have time for you. And the bigger the problems, the more you will feel that way. This sense of rejection (real or imagined) can be a real barrier to getting any kind of help.So for all those who hoped I would be more accessible in times of need, I’m sorry. I really do want to change how I schedule my life so that I have the margin to be present with you. I do, and I’m trying. It’s hard. I’m working on it. I hope to get to it.. once a get few other things done… ;)Regardless of the challenges, getting help is worth it. It’s worth the effort. It’s worth the time. And it’s worth trying over and over again until you find it. If you feel rejected right now, please don’t give up. try again. And reach out to a professional; there are plenty of counselors hoping to full their schedules each week. It does take a lot of time, but it’s worth it. And we need to change how we live, so we have the margin to be there for people.We need to do more than just overcome the stigma of mental health. We need to talk more openly about the challenges, support each other in the process of seeking help, and change our health care system to make this kind of stuff more accessible to everyone.What has your journey been?What have been some the challenges you didn’t expect when you started the process?What advice do you have for someone starting out?

Vacation and Economics

I wasn't raised poor or affluent. I was a middle-of-the-road, middle-class kid from a small town. The fact that this small town is named Hicksville is only a distraction from the fact that it's actually a great place to raise middle-class kids. That does not say there wasn't economic disparity. The poor in our community worked in the factories. The rich owned the factories. Yet, growing up in a small town, most families knew and cared for each other. They went to the same schools and played on the same sports teams.

My starting place is small-town, middle-class, but I've had the joy of living alongside people far more affluent and far poorer. I got to hang out at someone's lake house that was bigger than any regular house I'd ever been to (there was a theater room, billiard room, hot tub, four floors, and multiple boats parked at their dock.... and this wasn't even their primary residence).

I also spent a summer on the Northern Cheyenne reservation where most people lived below the poverty line, and I slept on a blow-up swimming device in the local high school.  (Which might be the reason for my current back problems.)

As many of us, I've spent some of my life in these three different economic worlds: wealth, middle class, and poverty. I recently learned that there is a test that you can take that will tell you what class you are from. I haven't taken the test, but one of the questions had to do with what you say after you feed a room full of guests. Someone who is poor, might say "Did you have enough?" (quantity)Someone who is middle-class, might say "Did you like it?" (quality) And someone who is upper-class, might say "Was it presented well?" (presentation) I recently discovered another category for such reflection: Vacation.

I realized that as I told friends and people from church that we were headed on vacation, the majority of the time was spent explaining to them how we were paying for it.

You might be middle class, if...

You go on vacations. You see, the poor don't. They just don't. They can't afford it.  Christian rapper, Lecrae once said,

Rich man need a vacation, hop a plane. Broke man need a vacation, Mary Jane

Can you imagine a world where you don't go on vacations? I don't want to. So you might be middle class if you go on vacation. But, you might also be middle class if...2. When you tell people about the vacation, you explain how you can afford it. You see, the working middle class (as many others) have this love-hate relationship with vacation. We go, but we're a little guilty about the money we spent on it. And we don't want people to think we've spent more than we have, because usually our vacations have been carefully priced out, and strategically planned. To be fair, some of this might also be guilt left over from pastoring. Christians can be rather nasty sometimes when pastors take too much time to enjoy themselves. 

Don't let shame define the conversation.

There is a lot of shame around money. Whether it's a pastor justifying a vacation or the concerns the middle-class have about the poor seeing them as too extravagant. The poor, the middle-class, and the wealthy can all experience a level of shame and discomfort when interacting with each other around money. The rich might be embarrassed for having too much, the poor for not having enough. We don't feel this tension when we're with people like us. But if we're going to enter into a relationship with each other, we need to get over the discomfort.

Here are a few ideas that might help.

Get over the initial shock.

I think one of the biggest barriers to cross-economic relationships is the shock that happens when someone realizes just how rich you are, or just how poor you are. I've taken affluent people to homeless camps. When they look around at someone's home, made up of a campsite and tent, you can see the shock on their face. I've also taken people who are lower-income to expensive restaurants, and the shock on their face was exactly the same. They're not sure how to order, and can't believe we're spending as much as we are just to eat.As someone who is middle-class, I've been shocked on both ends of the spectrum. By shocked, I mean: speech-less, awkward, out of place, and weird around some people because I didn't realize just how different their life was from mine. I've been in a JC Penny suit while rubbing shoulders with Washington elites. I felt like a fake and out of place. I've walked into a homeless camp and felt dizzy from the reality settling in. I've spent $150 for a meal for two at the top of Hancock Tower in Chicago, for food that was just alright. I've walked into homes that cost more than all the houses of my block combined. I've delivered food into homes that the stench of their pets and trash hit you at the door. If you have grown up predominately in one economic class, and desire to extend the kingdom of God to people outside that class, you will likely experience some kind of shock.   Expect the shock, be ready for it, and then get past it.

Don't hide. 

You are you. There's no need to hide who you are, whether that be poor or rich. That doesn't mean flaunting either—and I've seen it happen amongst the poor and the rich alike, trying to outdo one another. Just be you. When it's all said and done, we're all human: we all hurt, and we all want to be loved. Be confident in who God created you to be, and in God's call on your life to be generous, and you will have the confidence (and humility) to talk to just about anyone.Don't assume. I met someone once who drove to the meeting in a fancy, big, beautiful truck, and got out wearing some really nice, clean-cut, designer clothes. I thought to myself: Well, he's clearly rich. But then we sat down and chatted. He told me his story of finding Jesus. He told me about how before he gave his life to Jesus, he drove the best car money could buy and wore exclusive, custom, designer suits. He then said something I will never forget, "Now that I have Jesus, I drive a truck and I dress like this." For this person, I looked down on them because I thought they looked rich. For them, this truck and his outfit was a large, rather generous step towards humility.

Don't assume you know someone.

I've had similar experiences with the homeless, where I assume they can't do anything, when in fact they are amazing, caring, competent people. Don't assume. Don't judge someone because they are rich, don't look down on someone because they are poor. Get to know someone. And live generous, open lives with all people.

Don't try and fix someone.

Don't assume people should be like you. I'm not convinced the rich should be poor. And I'm not convinced the poor should be rich. If anything, we’d all be better off having what we need, with a little extra to enjoy life.  And more than that, I think we should be radically generous and fight against our tendency to hold onto what we have and the systems that not only oppress but reward us for our selfishness.

A friend I had once said that his biggest problem with the church is that most Christians want to make him middle-class. The problem: He's content being poor, and he feels closer to Jesus without all the middle-class trappings. He has a home, and a job, and enough to eat. He's content. Maybe that’s what we should be: content with what we have, and wildly discontent in the ways others have so much less.