parents are in crisis

Just this week, the surgeon general wrote an article in the New York Times claiming that parents are "at their wits' end." A recent study showed that "48% of parents say most days their stress is completely overwhelming, compared with 26% of other adults who report the same."

Parents are burned out, exhausted, and lonely.

As a parent, I have to agree.

For the parents reading this today - how are you? No really, how are you? Yes, I know you're tired, and I juggling too many responsibilities. But - is it all too much? Are you drowning? Do you feel all alone?

Honestly, I would put myself in that category of overwhelmingly stressed out. This summer has been tough in our house, as our oldest has dealt with four rounds of strep throat since June. When one of our kids is sick, or school is closed, or our toddler doesn't sleep through the night, it's hard to cope with the demands of the day. I try to stay grounded, to be a peaceful presence in the face of my kids' big emotions, but often, it's just too much.

I volley back and forth between the mom-guilt when I'm not the kind of parent I want to be, and resentment that I have these two little beings dependent on me for so much. Yes, parenting is a gift and a joy - and, it's really hard, often lonely work.

I share this in order to shine a light on the truth of the Surgeon General's warning: parents are struggling. Yes, with exhaustion and money stress and all the other normal parenting struggles - but also withnavigating the constant presence of screens and technology, a general sense of fear - especially of gun violence, continuing effects of a global pandemic, witnessing a genocide, what feels like an explosive political landscape, underpaid teachers doing their best for our kids who need more attention in school...the list goes on.

Does this resonate with you? If so, you're not alone. The loneliness of parenting is real, even though I have an incredible spouse to navigate all this with. Some days, it just feels like too much.

I appreciate in his article that Dr. Murthy acknowledged the need for policy changes to provide better support for parents. This is a culture-wide issue, not the failure of individual parents who are taking on too much.

As a church community, I wonder what our role is in this crisis.

And when I think of the people who make parenting a little bit more bearable for me, it's the people in our church. It's the people who offer to come babysit our kids so we can have a date night. It's the other moms I see on Wednesday mornings at Rebel Women Bible study, sharing the unsolvable concerns and pains and joys. I think of friends from church who watched another family's toddler while they were in the process of moving, so her mom could have a few hours to unpack boxes. I think of an 8th grader in our church who approached the many trusted adults in her life - adults she knows from church - to ask them about their career paths, and for advice on what to study in high school.

Church is far from perfect - even our own beloved congregation. And yet, what I keep coming back to is that church offers a kind of community life that is unlike any other. Here, you can show up just as you are, with crying kids or lonely hearts or barking dogs. No, church is not perfect - but it's a vehicle through which so many of us have found support, especially in parenting.

I wonder what support you have found through this church home. I wonder if there are parents you know who are searching for an imperfect - but joyful - community of parents and non-parents navigating this world together.

As Christians, community is what we do. Belonging is what we seek. Our church community is rooted in the love and witness of Christ who offered belonging to all who sought it.

And to the lonely, burned out, at-their-wits'-end parents reading this: I see you. God sees you. You are not alone.

If you truly are drowning, I know that that's not enough. "You are not alone" - that doesn't cut through the fog of resentment/exhaustion/grief/joy/ It doesn't make a difference when every minute lasts an hour and your kids are head-butting you and trying to touch each other's penises and throwing the toilet paper roll down the hallways instead of going to bed (which is all currently happening as I type this).

That's the truth that I wrestle with every day - it seems that nothing is enough, that the well of need in each of my kids is bottomless, and the well of need in me is bottomless, too.

And yet, we keep going. We keep trying to see each other, keep trying to carry some of the load for each other.

I just wish we existed in a society that was designed for communal support, so that living life together - raising our kids together - wasn't so counter-cultural.

We have to try so hard to form that community, have to put ourselves out there over and over again - asking for help way more than we want to.

Dear parents, I hope that when you ask for help, there is someone there to answer you. And I hope that when they offer to carry some of the load, you let them.