This summer, our family was on the Kilimanjaro Safari drive through Disney World’s Animal Kingdom viewing the menagerie of animals when the rain began. While we were prepared for short afternoon showers with our disposable ponchos, this one was more of a lasting downpour. Remaining on the vehicle once the tour ended was not an option. So out we went into the deluge. We ducked underneath a porch overhang for a moment of refuge where a photographer snapped our picture. We were soaking wet but were genuinely smiling because we were together. 

A few weeks later though, I was not in a good emotional place. For months, my mother, brother, and I, along with our families, had been working to find my dad a nursing facility that could help keep him safe as his Parkinson’s progressed. We’d had one place fall through and had searched for a new one. Even though we’d now found a place for dad and had a date scheduled for his arrival, my frustration, stress, and anxiety were high. One afternoon after school, my eleven-year-old son Alex looked at me and said, “I feel like you want to cry but you’re holding back tears. It’s okay to cry. This is your sanctuary. We’re here for you.” Yes, he literally used the word sanctuary. I was touched by his words and told him he was right. Ben and the kids had been surrounding me with love to help me through one of the hardest things I’d ever experienced. The next day, the dam broke, and I ended up sobbing, letting out all the complex emotions that I’d bottled up. I told Alex that I’d finally cried. I was safe with my people, in our home.

Thankfully, we found a good facility with kind people for my dad. But over the course of the year, I’ve discovered that not everyone has a safe place to be. Ben and I have been leading our church’s small youth group. While our group of kids appears to be authentically themselves at home and church, we’ve heard stories about their friends who don’t have that same freedom. They can’t be their genuine selves in all aspects with their families. To me that is devastating. The world is scary enough, how sad not to have people or places to which they can retreat when life becomes difficult.   

I pray during this holiday season and in the new year that we all have people and places that care for us. That we can turn to them when we need a safe person or place. That we can be our true selves and share our deepest thoughts and emotions with them. And that if we do not, we have the courage to seek and find them. I hope we realize that we can serve as places of refuge for others when the hard rain or unrelenting tears inundate their lives. Let us thank God for the gift of sanctuary and pray God opens our eyes and hearts so that we may discover that comfort for ourselves and be that support for others.

Love,

The Carter Family

2023

The basketball game that night was tough. We’d lost, and we were all frustrated. We’d talked about it but that hadn’t cured our heavy moods. I went to the laundry room off the kitchen to check on the latest load as I do numerous times a day and saw the fitted bedsheet still in the basket. I asked Jed, “are you going to change your sheet?” He responded, “can you not pile on right now?” I stopped short, knowing he was correct, and said, “sorry I wasn’t trying to pile on.” I knew the sheet could wait. It wasn’t important at that moment. I think my need to regain control, when everything about the basketball situation was out of my control, led to my effort to get something, anything, done. But it wasn’t the right time to ask. I didn’t need to bother Jed with this when we were both in such a bad mood.    

Jed’s question reminded me of something I’d seen in a movie, but I couldn’t figure out what movie. I racked my brain. Then it came to me. In the 2021 version of Cinderella, Camilla Cabello plays Ella who, in a modern twist, is trying to sell her dress designs in the marketplace when she is accused of stealing the dress, told she can’t engage in business because she’s a woman, and is mocked unmercifully. The prince who is in disguise so that she doesn’t recognize him, approaches her and suggests she lower her prices. She shoots him a look and says, “Sir, please don’t pile on, okay?” She was already handling a bad situation and didn’t need his advice. A very real moment in the midst of a fairy tale. 

This is a valuable way of telling someone to back off. Yes, it is a little snarky, but it’s better than exploding in another person’s face. It indicates that the person asked to do something is already struggling with the weight of their situation. They have enough to deal with. They can’t handle another request. It also reminds the person asking that their demands do not rise to the level of importance at this time. Sometimes, like in Cinderella, we don’t need someone else’s suggestions to “fix” the issues. We need to be supported but not told what to do. Sometimes, like in my situation with Jed, the person asking is the one with the issues and is trying to off load them onto another. By asking that person to not pile on, they’re demonstrating their unwillingness or inability to take on that issue as their own. I respect that.

During the holiday season especially, all of us have a lot going on. Several times over the last few weeks, I’ve thought if one more person adds one more thing to my to-do list, I might lose it. But I wonder what would happen if we respected others and ourselves enough to think through our requests or suggestions before we offer them. Will we be adding something that is not the other person’s burden to carry? Should we investigate our own motives? Must we ask right now? Maybe it’s not the time and the request is not urgent. What are they facing? How can we help alleviate their load in a way that actually helps them? Then maybe we will conclude that now is not the moment. Can we avoid piling on? I think we can. 

My eleven-year-old son Alex had a bad day at school. He missed one of four questions on a math test at the start of the day and according to him, it went downhill from there because he was in such a foul mood after that first class. He cried, he was angry, and he didn’t truly recover all evening. I told him it was okay to chalk a day up as a bad one and be mad sometimes. The next morning, I reminded him that it was a new day, but he wasn’t having it. He said it was going to be awful just like the day before. I said that if he decided it was going to be bad before it even started, then it was pretty much guaranteed to be bad. I told him he’d been doing so great in middle school, and he said, “until now.” I encouraged him to put it behind him and approach the new day with a better perspective. He said that was not easy, but I was acting like it was simple. I agreed that it wasn’t easy and that I have a hard time with this same problem.  

In fact, I’d encountered the same issue earlier in the week. On Monday night, I’d suddenly realized that the boys’ basketball teams’ parents were responsible for operating the concession stand on Tuesday night. I’d been confused thinking the girls were also playing that night and were handling the concessions, but I was wrong. So, as the team mom tasked with arranging for that coverage, I texted the parents in a panic asking for their help. I felt unprepared, unorganized, and quite frankly, stupid. Thankfully, some parents stepped up, but their willingness to help didn’t cure my dismay. I woke up on Tuesday morning, and my first thought was how much I dreaded the day ahead. Not a great attitude and it dogged me all day, which turned out to be tough. Not because of the concessions stand, which turned out fine, but because I couldn’t shake the anxiety from the day before. I was guilty of the same thing as Alex – deciding the day would be bad from the jump.

I don’t know how to solve this problem. Perhaps acknowledging that I have this tendency is the first step in fixing it? Or I should take a moment each morning to notice if I’m fully present for the day ahead or dragging my worries into the new one. Jesus even got in on this one when he said, “So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today” (Matt. 6:34). And yet, I still struggle. But maybe, just maybe, I need to give myself some grace when it happens because it’s normal and not easily avoided.

Alex came home and reported that his day had been much better than the previous day. His whole demeanor was different, and he was much more at peace. He reminded me that even though it’s difficult at times, we don’t always need to carry our burdens from one day to the next. May it be so.