define: Jared Barden

…who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion… (Psalm 103:4)

I’ve been thinking about this verse lately, and it, and the feedback I received from my last post, sparked me to share another personal story I hope will be helpful.

There are a handful of times in my life where I’ve felt like I’ve been at my lowest – Joel Stephen’s funeral, the loss of our first baby due to miscarriage, finding out my dad had Leukemia. I found out this year that those weren’t my lowest points.

Let me share some background information. For as long as I can remember I have had an “anxious” personality, for lack of a better term. I was the kid who said, “guys, I don’t think we should do this – we’re going to get in trouble” to Dan and Dave Fitzgerald, oh, a million times or so growing up. I was the kid who got nervous that the class was going to get in trouble in 4th grade. I was that college student who dry heaved before every speech in his Comm 101 class.

This year I learned that I’ve been the guy who’s been anxious about what other people think about him for a long, long time. Only this time my anxiousness manifested itself at and through my work – to an extreme extent.

It seemed to start early in the year, January or February. And it got worse and worse and worse. Getting up in the morning was a chore. I woke up in panic sweats. I tried to stay up as late as possible, because I knew going to sleep meant that I had to get up in the morning and start the process all over again. At times I lost my appetite pretty much all together. I second-guessed every single decision I made at work, for fear that I would screw up and “get in trouble” (whatever that even meant)

It finally got to the point where one morning I pretty much refused to go to work. I called in sick and that was that. Danielle begged me to go. My mom begged me, then came over, prayed with me, and I still wouldn’t go. Finally dad called. I could tell he was worried. He told me I HAD to go. He even offered to drive me himself. I finally made it in, but things didn’t seem to get any better.

Fast forward a bit. My parents were awesome enough to plan a night of prayer with some close family and friends. I would like to list them here and give them the respect and honor they deserve for pouring into my life that night. In no particular order: rob and Cindy Fitzgerald, Mike and Mindy Yoder, Jay and Ashley Smith, Lon Williams, Bruce and Marilyn Clark and, of course, my parents.

What they did that night means more than they will ever know. They spoke life and encouragement into me. They prayed for me. They listened to my heart. My dad spoke such amazing things into my life. He even told me I was his hero!

And yet, the next day, the problem was back. It persisted until sometime in July or early August. I remember sitting at Liberty Bible church listening to Lon’s teaching in the “Faith: It’s the new safe” series, and I literally felt a weight lift off me. That may sound melodramatic, but that’s what I experienced.

Looking back now, the depression I felt didn’t make any logical sense. It was a great point in my life. Work was going well. We had a new amazing baby boy, were in a great church, etc. There was nothing to be depressed about, but I still was.

If you’re going through a similar experience, there is hope. Hope that can only be found in the love of Jesus. There is hope when you are at the lowest of lows. He is the only won that can provide real hope and real answers.

Hang in there. Talk to a friend. Get prayer. Hang on to God. Even if that is all you can do, just hang on.

Remember, he is the one who can rescue your life from the pit.

As the news of sex scandal at Penn State continues to come out I’ve found myself incredibly angry and emotional, a little more than I thought necessarily appropriate. I’m incredibly angry at what happened to these innocent children. I’m upset that the career of one of colleges most-respected coaches has to end this way. I’m upset that something this heinous was allowed to happen.

I’m not sure what I think should happen to Joe Paterno. Doesn’t really matter at this point, since he’s already announced his retirement. Should he have called the police or made sure more was done to follow up on the allegations? Probably. But, what if he had and nothing had been done then, then what? Should he have forced the police to do their job? At what point would people have declared that he had done “enough”? Would it even have been possible? It’s hard to say. I just know that it’s incredibly sad that his legacy will be tainted in this way, after all the great stuff he has done for so many young men, for the university, for college football in general. It’s so very sad.

That is in no way meant to diminish what happened to these young men. That is far more tragic than any “injustice” done to Joe Paterno.

Before I continue, I should note that this post will cover some graphic topics. You’ve been warned.

It wasn’t until today that it hit me as to one of the reasons why I’ve been so angry and emotional.

I had an experience similar to the victims in this story when I was around their age. I was never raped or made to perform a sex act on someone, but I was violated by someone I considered a close friend. There was kissing and inappropriate touching, and I’ve never forgotten about this unfortunate incident.

I think over the years I’ve tried to forget that this ever happened. You know, out of sight, out of mind as they say. I’ve never wanted to embrace the victim mentality, to make any sort of excuses for my behavior based on what happened to me, etc. etc.

In fact, I’ve only ever told 3 people in my entire life about this experience. But I felt like now was the time to share, in hopes that something like this can be prevented in the future.

While I cannot fathom the pain, etc. that these boys (now young men) have and will continue to go through, I can relate, perhaps better than some.

As I was growing up this incident really affected me, even when I didn’t realize it. Sometimes you wonder if you are somehow complicit in the act. “Why didn’t I fight it off more, if I knew something was wrong?”. “Why did I let this happen?” The questions go on and on. There were times when I wondered if I was perhaps gay, since the incident happened with another male. I’ve had to live with the fact that my first kiss experience happened in such a tragic way.

Probably worse than the effect this has had on me is knowing that similar things happened to other people at the hands of this person, and if I had brought more attention to what happened to me, they may have been prevented. It’s incredibly painful to think about that. I know that you can’t live your life in regret, but to know that it might have made a difference is a hard pill to swallow.

My hope in telling my story is that it helps prevent a tragedy like this from happening to someone else. Many times we’re told to watch for signs of kids being abused, but what if there are no signs? I don’t even know what all the signs are myself, but I’m fairly certain I haven’t exhibited such signs.

My advice is to be there for your kid or for kids that come and talk to you. Really listen to them and try to read between the lines when possible.

Also, if you’ve experienced abuse, please tell someone you trust that will help you. I know that it’s incredibly painful and awkward, but if it can prevent that kind of pain for someone else, it is completely worth it.