I know–because I’ve heard the low whispers, faced the full questions–that some wonder if I haven’t humiliated my family, my husband, my kids, beyond belief by writing about our financial desperation in Broke. And I get why people would be concerned. There’s so much shame associated with being broke, not having enough to pay the bills.
And among well-to-do Christians, we say we care about the poor; we try to have compassion, to give. But really, most of the time, what we feel for our local poor is pity–or disgust. How could they have let this happen? So the idea that I’d write openly about our walk near the (American) poverty line sends some for a loop.
Though I’ve talked to my family about this book all throughout the process and though I do not (well, no longer) believe there’s anything to be ashamed of or embarrassed about in having not as much money as the next guy, forgive me if I’ve written or said anything that will unduly embarrass my family. If I’ve written words that dishonor my husband or my kids. Or you.
And forgive me for my harsh, judgmental thoughts toward those who judge me.