Not Lectures or Lesson, but Leaning in to Listen


If someone tells you their experience with depression, doubt, racism, sexism, abuse, classicism, trauma, grief—it’s because they trusted you. Maybe they told someone else and got laughed off, shut down, invalidated. Their voice was cut off. So they came to you with hope, at a risk, heart open.

Sometimes when I am weakened, grieving, or depressed, the response I get is complete disgust. There is something vile in the human heart that feels revulsion at “weakness.” There is some terrible urge to look at a wounded person and say, “Stop that, don’t cry, be strong.” I think part of the reason we do this is that we’re so afraid of our own vulnerability, we despise seeing it in others.

The same too when we see anger. Anger can be abusive, yes. But underneath rage is often pain. To lecture an angry person to “calm down” will only injure the injured. When we’re most angry in our wounds, the most healing response is to be angry for and with, not at. To shame a person for their emotion is to shame them for being human.

I think there’s an urge to preach advice at hurting people because it feels powerless not to say anything. But tossing advice on an already hurting person is to give them a burden on top of their burden. Out of good intentions, we tend to impart information or theology or logical points to ”fix” them—but when you were wounded, what did you need? More words? A sound argument? I-told-you-so? No. The best gifts I received in these moments were presence and silence. To bear the load together.

When someone opens up with their painful story, it’s important what you do right then. You’ll be one more person who turns them away, or you’ll be the one who opens a door. Your ears can save a life. You can be the miracle they were praying for.

— J.S.

Why I Lose Faith


To be truthful:
I find it hard to call myself a Christian these days. Almost impossible. These days I glance at my Bible and I want to throw it in the trash. I want to walk away without looking back.

I keep wondering: Does the Bible produce jerks? Or are jerks attracted to the Bible? Either way I’m not sure why I stay.

Yes, I still believe. My faith is still the pivotal anchor by which I stand. But it seems western evangelicalism has forcefully gone out of its way to be anti-medicine, anti-mask, anti-vaccine, anti-poor, anti-mental health, and completely against the Black community. It seems the western church only marches when they feel “persecuted.” (Ask any Christian in the east about real persecution.) How did the church rationalize such a bizarre norm? When did western Christianity become such a predictable, politicized, cliched, cartoonish one-dimensional silo of reactionary bullies and brats?

I’m not saying anything new, and perhaps I’m naive—but are not Christians called to be the most fiercely compassionate citizens of earth? So compassionate it makes no sense? The ones who hold ourselves accountable by the highest standards of holiness and justice? To be for our neighbors, the wounded, those in need? To transcend the political and institutional trappings of the tiny slice of history we’re living in?

I’m reading that first century Christians were most known for their 1) personal ethics and 2) radical generosity. Despite the church’s many problems through history, Christians were at the cutting edge of art, education, scientific breakthrough, and human liberation. Christians founded hospitals, universities, libraries, orphanages, shelters, and were at the forefront of protests. Am I romanticizing the past? Or do I long for something like this today?

Any time I bring this up, I get called a “liberal.” It’s apparently the worst insult in the world. But if someone having “empathy” and “compassion” is an accusation of being liberal—doesn’t that say more about the one making the accusation?

If I have to choose between today’s Christian and today’s liberal, then sign me up for the latter. As it is, I have no home and no faith to call my own.
— J.S.

My New Podcast Coming Soon: The Voices We Carry


Hey friends! I’m excited to announce I’m starting a podcast soon based on my book The Voices We Carry.

I know everyone’s got a podcast going these days. Mine is a solo broadcast: the goal is to champion your voices. Here’s a bit of what to expect.


1) Q&A. I’d love to engage with your questions about mental health, grief, loss, trauma, my doubts and depression, church, theology, race, politics, my chaplain work at the hospital and homeless shelter. About anything you’re going through. #AskMeAnything


Here’s my Q&A archive to see questions I’ve answered before (and I can answer again!)


2) Your stories. I’d love to share your stories on the podcast. Please feel free to share about a particular voice or message stuck in your head that you overcame (or didn’t). How did you find your voice through the process? I can keep you anonymous if you’d like.


3) Corrections. I will correct my old writings that I don’t agree with anymore. To criticize my old posts and ideas. To share where I totally missed it.


4) Challenges. I get it wrong, a lot. And I’d love to change my mind. I want to hear your disagreements. Not to fight, but to expand our voices together.


5) Reviews. Tell me about a movie or book or video or blog post or news article. I’ll watch or read, and we’ll discuss.


Please message me through Facebook, comment below, or email me at
thevoiceswecarry@gmail.com

Thank you, friends! Looking forward to it truly.
— J.S.

p.s. Our baby isn’t here yet, please send prayers!


Interviewed on Moody Radio live by Chris Fabry


Hey friends! I was interviewed on Moody Radio on Chris Fabry Live.

https://www.moodyradio.org/radioplayer.aspx?episode=317991

We talked about validating someone’s pain and story, how to deal with the voices that get stuck in our heads, some stuff from my book, and my work as a chaplain.


Interviewed on The Unburdened Leader


I was interviewed on The Unburdened Leader podcast by Rebecca Ching. We talk about my very difficult chaplain work, how to talk about depression, and navigating intergenerational racism.

Apple podcast: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-unburdened-leader/id1508203253?i=1000479741818


What Self-Awareness Means (and Doesn’t Mean)


One of the big points that I make in my book is, “Self-awareness is only fully found in the awareness of others.”

That can mean
– deep, uncomfortable reflection
– therapy
– reckoning with our own bias, prejudice, beliefs, and actions
– hard conversations
– asking for feedback
– hearing the stories of others – reading works from others with vastly different experiences
– one-on-one dialogue with safe people who are willing to process with you
– apologizing specifically on the spot
– praying with safe people

This does not mean
– putting the burden on others to educate you
– only discussing things online
– trying to process as a way of catharsis and clearing your conscience
– merely saying “sorry”
– forcing others to process without their consent
– comparing your story with someone’s story
– dumping your past guilt with racism onto a person of color, which can retraumatize them
– making yourself the hero of the story, but rather humbly receiving the gift of self-awareness

These are hard things. They can’t be done overnight. May we pace ourselves and keep pacing. Be blessed, friends.
— J.S.

Interviewed by Jordan Raynor


Hey friends! I was interviewed by Jordan Raynor on his podcast The Call to Mastery. We talk about grief, false theology, my very tough work as a hospital chaplain, and my book The Voices We Carry.

On Spotify here.

On Apple podcasts here:
https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-call-to-mastery-with-jordan-raynor/id1481085636?i=1000477378909

Jordan Raynor is bestselling author of Called to Create and Master of One. You can follow him here: https://instagram.com/jordanraynor

Myth: “Things Are Getting Better”


Yes, statistically, things are getting better. Global world hunger is down, the living wage is up, life expectancy is up, annual deaths from natural disasters are down, number of educated and vaccinated individuals globally is up, and the majority of the world population has electricity.

But when I sit with a patient who has brain cancer, when I sit with a homeless person who has been continually assaulted and lost their children, when I sit with a patient brutally assaulted by authorities, when I sit with a family who cannot afford their loved one’s chemo or surgery, when I sit with a woman who has been passed around the foster system and been taken advantage of countless times—no, I do not quote these statistics.

I do not hold up pictures of cancer survivors shaking hands with their doctors, smiling and posing.

I do not hold up pictures of families in front of their new houses shaking hands with their real estate agents.

I do not say, “Only one percent of people with coronavirus actually die.” Yes, fortunately things are getting better. But I have to keep asking, “Better for who?” Better for chronically ill individuals with no hope of coverage? Better for the elderly in nursing homes who are kept in prison-like conditions? Better for prisoners who are kept in inhumane conditions befitting of war crimes? Better for the Black community who struggles just to be heard?

Better for who?
Better for you and me, maybe.
But better for you does not make it true.

As I sit with the grieving and wounded and oppressed: I dare not quote facts and stats that mock their tragedy.

Because as long as my neighbor is not okay, it’s not getting better.
I cannot rest until we sit in the same shade.
J.S.


[Statistics largely cited from Factfulness by Hans Rosling.]

“Both Sides Have a Point”—But Not Always


Sometimes there’s no gray. Sometimes there is clearly right and painfully wrong, plain as day.


Even if both sides have a point, one side can be wrong. And it’s exhausting to constantly find “balance” and remain neutral. Neutral, in the face of evil, is not only a cop-out, but it’s dangerous. Neutrality is exactly how abusive and manipulative systems continue to operate unimpeded. Neutrality is grease for the engine.


It is not enough to say “I’m not one of them” or “There are good ones too.” It is not enough to say “We need more love in the world.” It’s exhausting to see one more picture of people hugging or high-fiving or laughing with some kids one time in an unseen community, as if that solves a thing. None of this centrist moderate stuff is enlightened. It’s cowardice. It’s fear of losing a fanbase.


Really, I’m a coward when it comes to this. I always want to be gracious, nuanced, thoughtful. I hate to cause discomfort, rock the boat, be a downer. I want to look at all things from all angles, all the time. I never want to alienate anyone. I’m a master of tip-toeing on thin ice, dancing around hard words, stretching between absolutes, trying to silver-line my way through.


But to know the stories of Ahmaud Arbery, George Floyd, and Breonna Taylor—it’s impossible not to shout and scream and cry. Their murders are on me. On being neutral. To be silent is to have picked the wrong side.
As it has been said, it’s not enough to say “I’m not racist,” but we must be actively fighting it. Otherwise, you and I remain grease, keeping the engine running.


To be truly nuanced is to humanize those we have lost. To fight for them. To be as angry as you need to. It’s to take care of yourself amidst daily retraumatizing. It’s to call evil what it is. It’s to condemn racism in every form, individual and systemic, in the home and in the heart.


I’m sorry I don’t speak as loudly as I should. I don’t always know how to fight, but I want to. To the wounded families: I’m sorry. I will act.


— J.S.

Trauma Has Ruined My Life: How to Recover? Here Are Six Ways to Post-Traumatic Growth

Anonymous asked a question:

I went through a traumatic life experience about 3 years ago. As it played out over the last 2 years, I feel like I’ve lost my inner drive to do anything. What do I do?

Hey dear friend, I’m sorry to hear this and thank you for sharing about it with me.

While I’m not a doctor or therapist, I can speak just in my capacity as a trained hospital chaplain. Trauma is a serious issue that’s gotten a lot more attention in the last decade, which I’m really grateful for. I highly recommend reading The Body Keeps the Score. (Warning that it does contain some hard descriptions.)


– Therapy.
 I can’t recommend this enough. Self-disclosure is one of the absolutely best ways to get through trauma. Whether that’s with a therapist, friend, mentor, pastor: we need to talk it out. Jamie Pennebaker’s studies about self-disclosure reveal that it’s not just about venting, but sense-making. Even simply writing about your trauma (if you don’t like writing, then recording it by audio) for fifteen minutes a day for several days can have noticeable health benefits. Pennebaker suggests answering these two questions: Why did this happen? What good might I derive from it? (Quoted from The Happiness Hypothesis by Jonathan Haidt.)


– Interoception.
 When trauma occurs, it not only leads to a loss of personal and spiritual control, but also physical control of our own bodies. We can experience fatigue, chronic pain, numbness, depersonalization, or dissociation. In other words, we can become detached from ourselves. So often this happens because our internal narrative says, “This bad thing happened to me, therefore I am bad.”

One of the ways to fight this is to “master” our own bodies again. That can be done through exercise, yoga, dance, martial arts, bike-riding, or any sensory experience that requires rehearsed and specific moves. To get to know your own body again is to own your body again. (Concept of interoception from The Body Keeps the Score by Dr. Bessel van der Kolk.)

Continue reading “Trauma Has Ruined My Life: How to Recover? Here Are Six Ways to Post-Traumatic Growth”

I Have to Fake My Emotions: The Cost of Emotional Labor and Hospitality

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If you’re always serving, it’s easy to lose your own voice and identity. Those in mental health work, hospitality, church ministry, or those who simply just listen all the time don’t always get to process their own thoughts and feelings. This can be exhausting and infuriating. Emotional labor is the cost you pay when you feel one way and act another. Many of us who serve have to smile, nod, never flinch, never judge, and always get along. How do we keep our own voice while serving others? I go over Ring Theory and how we can process our emotions safely. We need room to be ourselves as we take care of others. #selfcare #mentalhealth #grief #counseling #emotionallabor #processing #boundaries #therapy #psychology #ministry #ringtheory #trauma #chaplain #hospitality #selfcompassion #safety #mentalhealthawarenessmonth #therapist #counselor #religion #church #pastor #minister #listening #emotions #process

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If you’re always serving, it’s easy to lose your own voice and identity. Those in mental health work, hospitality, church ministry, or those who simply just listen all the time don’t always get to process their own thoughts and feelings. This can be exhausting and infuriating.

Emotional labor is the cost you pay when you feel one way and act another. Many of us who serve have to smile, nod, never flinch, never judge, and always get along. How do we keep our own voice while serving others?

I go over Ring Theory and how we can process our emotions safely. We need room to be ourselves as we take care of others.

— J.S.

Interviewed by Ben Amoah of The Auricle Podcast


I was interviewed by Ben Amoah of The Auricle Podcast. We talked about having a healthy skepticism for our beliefs, what brought me from atheism into faith, and my work as a hospital chaplain.

On Apple Podcast / iTunes here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-necessity-of-being-a-skeptic-ft-j-s-park/id1434506901?i=1000474189654

Interviewed by Oleg Lougheed of Overcoming Odds


I was interviewed by Oleg Lougheed of Overcoming Odds. We talked about grief in the pandemic, confronting failure and the consequences of always trying to improve, plus why we shame and shun those who are ill.

On Apple Podcasts / iTunes here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/how-do-we-thoughtfully-approach-mental-health-loved/id1292465138?i=1000471867963

Interviewed by Sean Bloch of Soul Tears


I was interviewed by Sean Bloch of Soul Tears. We talked about navigating grief through the pandemic and how I helped to plan a funeral, plus my book The Voices We Carry and what it means to own your voice.

On Apple Podcasts / iTunes here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/how-to-own-your-voice-serve-others-hospital-chaplin/id1474418082?i=1000473378494

On Libsyn here: https://projectsoultears.libsyn.com/website/-how-to-own-your-voice-and-serve-others-with-hospital-chaplin-js-park

My Family Broke Me: Breaking Family Patterns and Why Therapy Works

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Generational patterns can be passed down through family, even from great-great-grandparents we never met. This is called multigenerational transmission. If you draw a genogram—a detailed family tree that shows relationships and medical history—you’ll notice a surprising amount of repeated loops down the line. One of the ways of breaking patterns is to seek therapy, to talk it out, to explore our own stories. There’s something powerful about telling our story that brings closure, revelation, and healing to us—especially when someone really listens. My book has a whole chapter on family dynamics and focuses on one hospital patient who learned to make peace with her complicated family. (Link for my book is in my bio.) #family #familydynamics #mentalhealth #familysystems #parents #therapy #counseling #chaplain #hospital #abuse #boundaries #bookrelease #booklaunch #prayer #growth #trauma #grief #genogram #mentalhealthawarenessmonth #TheVoicesWeCarry

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Generational patterns can be passed down through family, even from great-great-grandparents we never met. This is called multigenerational transmission. If you draw a genogram—a detailed family tree that shows relationships and medical history—you’ll notice a surprising amount of repeated loops down the line.

One of the ways of breaking patterns is to seek therapy, to talk it out, to explore our own stories. There’s something powerful about telling our story that brings closure, revelation, and healing to us—especially when someone really listens.
My book has a whole chapter on family dynamics and focuses on one hospital patient who learned to make peace with her complicated family.

Grab my book here: The Voices We Carry: Finding Your One True Voice in a World of Clamor and Noise


[Patient details altered to maintain privacy.]

If You Hurt, I Hurt Too


I never want to politicize, moralize, or spiritualize someone’s pain.

I am always on the side of the wounded. Where there is loss, I am for the bereaved. Where you are hurting, I want to bring healing. Anything less is making us less human and not more.

It would take only a few seconds to consider the other person’s pain and perspective and point of view. That has the power to heal. The only cost to empathy is losing bigotry, self-righteousness, and pride. Empathy is that good.

It should never be on the wounded to explain their pain, defend their injury, or to forgive over and over the injustices that never should’ve happened but keep happening. Even if your hurt is not my hurt: because you’re hurting, I hurt too.

I want to empathize first, to listen first, to grieve first, and to be angry and to weep alongside. Not lecture, lessonize, or minimize. I don’t want to add burdens, nor demand explanations, nor kick you while you’re down. I want to crawl down there with you.

I cannot understand the hasty, vicious speed by which real hurting people are turned into talking points. I don’t mean the platforms for justice. I mean the ones that degrade and deny. I cannot understand the evil scorn and jeering and mockery: there is no honor in desecration, but only violence to the soul. And while I do not believe we must be forced to give our opinion all the time—so often the silence is chilling, and apathy can be the most destructive force of all.

May I never lose sight of the wound and the wounded. May God forgive me for when I wasn’t listening, for not getting it right. Above all, I must grieve. Through tears, prayer, and action, I grieve with you.
— J.S.

#AhmaudArbery

Interviewed by Heather Parady of Unconventional Leaders


I was interviewed by the amazing Heather Parady on her podcast Unconventional Leaders. We talked about some tough topics, including mental health, my hospital work, and navigating trauma.

I acknowledged Heather Parady in my book The Voices We Carry. She not only interviewed me years ago when I was a “nobody,” but she’s the real deal. Genuine, passionate, and truly a wonderful leader.


On Apple Podcasts / iTunes here:
https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/unconventional-leaders/id1412461408?i=1000473502583

On Spotify here:

Book Launch: The Voices We Carry


Happy day, friends! My book The Voices We Carry is officially released.

The Voices We Carry is about wrestling with our voices, such as self-doubt, people-pleasing, trauma, grief, and family dynamics, and finding our own voice in world of mixed messages. I talk about my hospital chaplaincy, what I learned from patients at the edge of life and death, and giving a voice to those who have been silenced—those like you and me.

The month of May is also Mental Health Awareness Month and Asian Pacific American Heritage Month. My book talks about the challenges of both. I believe that the more we can share our stories and make room for our many voices, the better we become.

God bless and much love to you, friends. Thank you for allowing me to speak into your life, faith, and journey.
— J.S.


The Voices We Carry is published by Northfield of Moody Publishers.

#MentalHealthAwarenessMonth
#AsianPacificAmericanHeritageMonth


Even If I Don’t Get It


Once I had this friend who was embarrassed by my laughter. At the movies, he would literally shove my shoulder to tell me to quiet down. At first I just stopped laughing around him. But eventually I stifled my laughter around everybody.

That same friend couldn’t believe it when I was sad about something, or hurt, or not enjoying myself. I was being a downer, I guess. I was interrupting his life.

We went hiking once and he kept telling me to smile. “Why don’t you laugh?” he said. He knew I had lung issues and breathing problems. But he wouldn’t slow down for me, not for a second.

We’re not friends anymore, but here’s the thing: I don’t think we were ever friends. He wanted a customizable, checklisted, wishlisted type of robot that met his every whim. That was all. He couldn’t imagine another person with needs beyond his own. And I was happy to cater to him. There was something about his bully-like authority that I was attracted to, as if I got strength from his domineering. But no, we were never friends. I was his rug, his lapdog.

I could be mad at him, but I’m guilty of the same thing. Sometimes I don’t understand a person’s fears, dreams, and goals, and I judge them for it. I don’t get their hobbies or the movies or music they like or the fact they love quinoa and kale. Mentally I belittle them for being them.

We do this with mental health, gender, race, culture, their stories: it’s as if we withhold permission for people to feel hurt about the things that don’t hurt us. “It’s never happened to me, therefore it never happens” is the most destructive lie that destroys connection.

But I want to get it. I want to get your fear, anxiety, pain, your worries and heartaches and shame. Your whole story. To really listen means that another person’s story is more important than my own right then. But that’s how we grow. That’s how we heal. That’s how we find laughter, loud and free.

I’m sorry I didn’t listen earlier. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you. I want to. I want to hear you, and by hearing, fully see.

— J.S.

3 True Hospital Stories and What They Taught Me About Grief, Hope, and Unseen Work

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For my live video on my book launch team, I shared three true hospital stories that were “deleted scenes” from my upcoming book. The first story is about a family member who asked for a picture of his dead brother. The second is about a grandmother who refused to die after surviving over a dozen Code Blue resuscitations. (3:06) The third is about a patient who I made an amazing connection with, but the next day something totally changed. (6:30) Also, that is indeed a Bruce Lee shirt. Be blessed and much love, friends. (You can preorder my book, The Voices We Carry, from the link in my bio.) #grief #hope #chaplain #thevoiceswecarry #booklaunch #bookrelease #hospital #mentalhealth #faith #inspiration #truestories #trauma #loss #empathy #connection #jspark [Stories have details changed to maintain privacy.]

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I share three true hospital stories which are “deleted scenes” from my upcoming book, The Voices We Carry.

— J.S.


[Stories have details changed to maintain privacy.]