A little piece of Heaven

Tonight, as I sip a warm cup of tea, I can't help but sigh with relief. I have brief moments in time when I can be completely myself. Alone, at last, with my computer, a snack, and a drink. Never mind the fact that my baby sleeps just inches behind me for only God knows how long and my husband sleeps only feet away until he must wake and go out on his night shift. It's been weeks now that he covers the graveyard shift and, as of yet, I am still not recovered. Can one ever really grow accustomed to the person they love not being able to sleep at their side and not returning until the morning has fully dawned. I'm not sure I will, but for now, he and I are making it work. The baby keeps me company anyways and for that I am extremely grateful.

I know things like this will not last. The times, rugged and hurried, seem to squeeze themselves out of me, but I am unwilling to let them go. I so badly want to stay in this moment and then the next. Is this what it means to be a mother? Always wanting to stay right where you are while all the time you know you must change, adapt, let go? I never minded change before, in fact, I welcomed it. I sought it out and now I only long to keep my family intact; enjoying this day and this day alone.

I am ready for change though. I see the need, the necessity, of newness. A new environment in which we can all grow. I would never dream of keeping anyone of them the same. I want both of them to flourish, to find joy, to succeed at whatever they put their hands to. Their minds to. I see greatness in our son. He is lovely and happy. He smiles so easily and loves so much to see his father's face. All that he is makes my whole life shine. I am complete in the moments when I know his smile will stay on his face.

As for me, I'm torn. Is my life as a mother now? As a mom who stays at home and cares for her children and takes care of the house and the other maternal duties? Or, am I Mom who works outside of the home and takes home to her children her very hard-earned support and care. Or, am I both? Am I the one who must go work in order to provide and when I am home, only then can I give the love and support to my child, or children, that they need? Am I to recognize my child's benefit of having multiple family members in his life, to help raise him and love and take care of him? Am I to let go of him unquestionably because that is what is best for my family. I'm not sure and that is at the heart of my problems. I am not keen on letting go. In fact. I cannot see me doing so and yet I am called outside of my house, to make something of myself, to build, encourage and move on. I cannot do so.  I suppose I will work to earn a paycheck and then come home to love my family. To spend the precious moments that I can with them. To help raise them in the way they should go and love them how I know I should.. how should I love them? The defining question. My love would seem to best show through lavishing all of my affection upon them but we are also told to believe that self-love is the only way one can fully love another. Jesus, actually, tells us that we are to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. I would love myself by providing a secure future for me and so I would fully love my son by giving him that same opportunity. I know what I must do and now I pray that the Lord can help with guidance and wisdom and love so that I should have strength in order to get the job done. Amen.

you are fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalm 139:14

I woke up this morning and asked God, "Why am I here? Why have you placed me in this exact spot, with these people, in this life style?"
I was wondering. I'm finally wondering.
I could spend my time thinking of some other crap like why hasn't he given me this or that or why do I have to do such and such, but that seems terrible unfulfilling when the truth of it all is that I am here, make it or break it.
I do not want to break it. In fact, I want to thrive, so again I ask, "Why am I here?"

If I am fearfully and wonderfully made, as I am, then there is a reason for my moodiness and my reflection. There is a reason for the son I had and a reason I was given to him as his mother.

If any other avenue in my life was really so great, I would be there now, because God loves me and works all things together for my good.

I want to be unfiltered. Stop thinking about what to say or not, because the truth of the matter is, all of our walks are different. When my relationship is just about me and God, I think thats when the real change will come. It isn't like all of us are that different but our modes of communication are light years apart and it makes me feel inadequate. For example, I thought of something that made me angry while I was in the shower. I noticed, for perhaps the first time, that my initial thought was to push it down. Get rid of the feeling. Instead, today I thought, I am going to think of a healthy and normal way to tell that person why I am upset. I never thought of a way, but at least I realize what I need to do!

I know everything will work out because God is like that. I'm just wondering when and how. I don't know, I guess I'm feeling a little nostalgic.

Cloud Chronicles

  THE CLOUD CHRONICLES

Johnny is a young boy with a rather large imagination. All day long he could sit at a window and beg the clouds to take him away. He wasn't running from anything in particular, but he needed escape. He was on his way to somewhere grand and all he had to do was glance up at the sky in order for his day to begin.

Johnny liked to imagine shapes best. He wasn't any good at seeing people or places, but a figure in the sky, that was his specialty. He saw animals of all sorts. In fact, those were about the only shapes he did see. He was beginning to wonder what actually made up those wonderful drawings in the beautiful blue sea, when all of a sudden, he realized. Maybe it was not what made the clouds, but who and for who he should be curious about. 

Ever since that fateful day, when he asked all of those ominous questions, some very weird things began occurring. He wouldn't say he minded, except for the fact that he was getting terribly lazy 'round the house and that none of his friends were any good at playing nowadays. His imagination was getting him so carried away that it wasn't until night fall that he would even think about how long he'd been sitting there. "Daydreamin'," as his mother called it.

He knew. Even if she didn't. And even if his friends could hardly play along. To them, it was all in the realm of make believe. Which, as kids, is a really good thing. Nobody wants to be around another kid, so long as they keep interrupting a game to point out how unreal it is. Everyone knows they aren't real cops and robbers or children on a runaway train, but they play anyways, for the fun of it. That's what Johnny's friends thought they were doing when he would call them over in the middle of the day to fight off the angry dragon or to protect the blubbering sheep. Little did they know he wanted to sit around, staring up at the clouds, wasting away an entire day. It was after they figured out all of this that they suddenly could no longer play. Not at all, but not at all when their mothers said it was Johnny who was calling to play.

That suited Johnny alright anyways. He didn't need people to tell him what he was seeing or make-believing that the agitated elephant, with a very severe problem, was actually a mouse with a cricked tail. He was better off on his own. That way the animals felt more comfortable to tell him their stories and that way, he never had to wonder why he felt so all alone. Even when our closest friends are near to us, it is possible to not really feel connected. That's why when his friends were gone, he really believed he was getting somewhere. At least someone wanted to talk to him and at least those imaginations understood the way he liked to play. 

It was a junk yard dog that started it all for Johnny. He was just a lonely puppy at first, placed in the junk yard as a type of scarecrow. Except there were never any burglars and the puppy only ever really wanted to play. Anyone who spoke to the puppy tried to make him tough. They'd tease the mane between his ears and speak to him real gruffly, trying to get him to understand the importance of his work. Oh, he got it alright. It was his job to defend the palace, the sanctuary of garbage and he would have done it too, if anyone would have ever felt like barging in.

He dreamed of another dog to play with. To make the rounds with, to share the scrap bits of meat with and to share the human attention with. Sometimes, he didn't feel so much like being pet by those owners. They never had anything new to say and he was bored of acting happy at, "Sit Fiddo. Now, pounce. Good dog. Good work. Go, fetch." It was always the same and not that it was bad, only... Only, he longer for something more. 

Maybe it was the longing in this pups eyes that caught Johnny's attention. The rest of him looked pretty standard. Long scraggly ears, a soft shaggy tail. He was, of course, only shades of blue and white, but when Johnny allowed his imagination to take over, the whole story finally came to life.

***********************The tale of the lonely dog***********************

Fiddo wasn't even his real name. He was adopted when he was only six weeks and his new owners called him that. Originally he had been called, Buddy. He loved that name. He wore it proudly, like a badge. His first owners would look down on him and call him over affectionately, saying, "Come here, Buddy. Come here. Good boy." And it didn't even stop there. They'd scoop him up and hold him tightly against their chests and just rock him back and forth, or play with him a bit. He loved those days, even though they were becoming distant memories by now. These days, he was practically a full grown pup. Almost two years old, in a few weeks, but he wasn't really counting. He knew no one who remembered the date and for that matter, did dogs even really get to have birthday celebrations?

If it was up to him, they would. Dog parties would be the best kind of parties, too. Instead of cake and ice-cream, which were usually made of chocolate (Yuck!) he would serve hamburger pie! There would be chew toys as party favors and all sorts of races for the games. The one exception to this all, the thing humans never think about, is that instead of boring old water to drink, the dogs would be served ice cold vanilla cokes! There isn't a dog on this planet who can resist the cold fuzz of a soda, or any other bubbly drink. Whoever got it in their heads that sodas not for dogs has another thing coming when they finally see the truth. Anyways, he'd have soda at his birthday party, for the special occasion. And dog biscuits right along side biscuits and gravy! He could smell it now! But, he'd better stop. With all this fantasizing he was getting awfully hungry. That wouldn't do when it came time to eat the slop they served here for dinner. 

He knew it was only a matter of time before he found the perfect friend to play with though. In all his time at this junk yard, he never saw a thing that didn't come along side a matching pair. He noted the objects as he did his usual patrol; the tires, for example. They were always rolling up to another tire. They never did too much but sit there and lean on each other, but Buddy assumed that was what tires liked to do best so he never spoke too much about them. The other thing that always came in pairs were the cats. He would see them late at night, when he had almost started sleeping, creeping over the wire fence, right into his yard! Buddy wasn't sure if it were part of his job to keep the cats out too, but it never seemed like they took anything the owners missed, so he let them slide. Besides, he kept an eye on them, to see how they played with each other and to see if he too would like to be part of the group. Cats didn't act very friendly though, so he thought he better not try it. They looked at him crossly and then stole into the night to go after whatever it is that cats like to get into. Just like with the tires, Buddy thought that was one more thing he might be better off not knowing. And then there were the birds. He loved watching the birds! He could sit there and scan the sky all day if his job would let him. He loved to see them soar up in the sky and then leap down. He liked to look at them dancing with each other and then cuddle on the tree and sing songs to one another. It sure must be sweet to share those good moments with a person you had so much in common with, like, wings. He wouldn't know much about them either.

He loved to learn though! It was about the best thing there was to do as a junk yard dog. Everywhere he went, he could find little scraps here and there that told him about the life outside. Plus, his owners were constantly watching the T.V. which made it nice for Buddy to catch the news, given that reading was still a little difficult for him. One day, Buddy saw something that shocked him. 

As the news came on that evening, only two nights ago, Buddy was going on his normal stroll. He had barely passed the owner's house when these few words stopped him cold in his tracks. "The monkeys then spit right through the fence!" You must know why this caught his attention. He had never heard of another animal living behind a fence, as he did. All the other animals he ever encountered either came and went as they pleased or flew so high above the ground, they would have hardly noticed the fence at all. This was something different, something extraordinary! And , to think, the monkey spit! At whom? And, why?

These were ideas he had never had before and the mere image of a monkey spitting at anyone was enough to get his tail wagging. He went to bed merrily that night, thinking of all the learning he was going to have to do.

Chapter 2:

Why the Monkey Spits.

Did you know, I had never been in captivity before coming to the LA Zoo? That's right! The  first two blissful years of my life were spent winding around trees in the jungle and I couldn't think of anything except those trees and the next banana I was going to split! 

That was all until I found myself very much alone one night. It wasn't scary or anything, swinging there from branch to branch. We monkeys always split up and go in search of food, so even at two I was used to being on my own. I'm adventurous. But, when I noticed it was night and that the atmosphere wasn't what it should be, I started planning on returning home. I wasn't supposed to stay out so late, my clan was always telling me so. The only problem with being out at night is that the canopy to the rainforest blocks out all the moonlight. I figured I'd have to camp out, just for the night. Just until morning when the bird songs might be more helpful in leading me home. 

There must have been a fire that day, a trick of fate that kept me away from my home. When I returned, the wreckage was fierce! I didn't even recognize our community tree, the largest in the region in which we all pulled our food from scavenging. It was bare, all of it, and I wondered where on earth everyone had gone. That was, until I spotted the humans. I had seen them before, once or twice. Normally, we were pretty safe this far south, but lately there had been words thrown around, such as, "expansion" and "population growth." Those words didn't mean much to me then, but looking around now at my depleted home, I recognized my unfortunate predicament. 

I was about to swing away, in search of the others when I heard it.

"A spider!" 

"Aye mate, it's a spider monkey alright. Come on, little fella."

"Oh, he must be scared to death. All alone and at his age." 

"Come on down little monkey. I've got a treat for you." 

And at that moment, I saw what brought the biggest grin to my face of all. You bet!  A gloriously large, yellow green banana and I had hopped onto the ground in seconds. Flying through the air, swinging on my tail, soaring through the trees. It was a miracle! He said I could have it and so I stayed near their troupe. He never asked permission when they loaded me into a crate, but I suppose I let it happen. I wanted to be safe and I felt that curiosity again in me. Where was he taking me? Would it be where the others were? I wasn't sure, but I certainly hoped so. This was a journey I wasn't very prepared for, but then again, what journeys in life are we ever really prepared to go on?

Let's Be Real.

I'm not sure if you're like me. You hold your tongue because what you have to say might sound rude. You aren't trying to be offensive, but the possibility that you are going to be perceived that way is relatively high, so you steer away from that comment. Maybe you make light of the situation and maybe you bring up a whole different conversation altogether and maybe, still, you default on affirming the person, rather than addressing the real topic on hand. But, why? Why, if our intentions are not confrontational do we side-step our original comments in order to avoid potentially uncomfortable conversations?
I'm acknowledging my own weakness in doing this exact same thing before I dive into my irritation with those who do it too. (If I call it like I see it with myself, I'm therefore allowed to call others out as well, right?). Well, anyways, I was thinking about all of this because of the religious posts I put on Facebook.
I know full well that some of my friends aren't Christians;  people I consider friends in my daily life, but also the mere acquaintances who were forced to adopt the friendship title based on Facebook's strict regulations of our social status. Beyond that, they probably don't agree with most of the verses I post from the Bible. Yet, as I think about why they don't reply, why they don't ask what in the world am I talking about in those verses, I can only think of the above reasoning and perhaps one other. They see the Bible verses and think the sentiment is nice, they aren't bothered by my outward expression of spirituality and thereby skim on to the next post. This latter reason for the slim comments on my posts could be discouraging because, let's face it, half the reason for my posting scripture is evangelism. At the very least, I'm going for encouragement.
That's why I like today's verse from Romans 8.
Verse 26 says, "In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans."
I need that. I need to know that I have weaknesses. To know that sometimes, I don't say the "right" thing, but maybe it was what needed to be said. I need to be reminded that I don't always need to hush myself and think through every conversation, afraid of offended someone, if that is not my intention. I cannot control everyone's reaction to my thoughts and feelings and ideas, that is for them to decide and for me to say what is really on my heart. I'd like to remember that. I'd like to get better at that. I'd like to have more trust in God, that He is leading me to say what needs to be said. Whether it is during prayer or before or after. I needed to hear that verse, which is kinda the point of this entire blog. Even I don't always know what I need to hear, but God does. This morning's devotional was spot on, if you will.
I hope you all are having a great day and that you go wherever the Spirit leads you! Whether in conversation or otherwise. Remember, a flattering tongue doesn't do any good, but words thought out to bring edification to a friend are really from the heart. That's from the Bible too, I just can't quote it word for word, yet. I'm working on it :)
~Jenn

What do you have to lose?

Some people are effortlessly calm.
Others are naturally sweet and kind and affectionate.
I am none of these things.
Not because I desire NOT to be, but because even when words of affirmation or a genuine smile might come, a blanket of shyness overwhelms those other abilities. Or, a shudder of questioning waves off my attempt.
I'm not complaining. I see gentleness and extraordinary acts of friendship in strangers and it captures me.
"How beautiful," I think. That one person can make such a difference in my little world! I don't know them. They have no reason to show grace, to connect. And yet...

They do. Moments. Moments like these and the moments when I have blinders on; to sadness, to anger, to passivity, to deceit. All of these make up my day and they capture my attention and I, so easily, become the observer, only occasionally affected by the world around me. That is until...

I look up. I listen. I pray. I stay silent. I sing. I smile. I interact. I try. And I'd rather do any of these than not. Not live. Not breathe. Not feel. Not be. 

Take a step. Leap. Give up. And see. See what type of change you can make. What a beautiful world you can contribute to! We can change and we can make a change. It's wonderful! Besides, what do you have to lose?

This quote came from Joyce Meyer's book The Confident Woman. "If you will do what you can do, God will do what you cannot do. Doors will open, a way will be made, and creative ideas will come" (119). From every reaction, there is a chain-reaction. Let it be a positive initiative that makes you take action and then sit back and enjoy, once you see what happens!

The Whistleblower

The story of Kathryn Bolkovac. A film made on her experience in Bosnia where several peace-keeping officials on a mission as part of the United Nations were forced to resign, but not prosecuted, after being connected to human-trafficking and child prostitution. 

2.5 million people are reported to still being trafficked. Apparently these rates are higher in places of post-conflict, such as, Iran and Afghanistan.

The movie is disturbing, harrowing. I can't shake it and I'm not sure I even want to. 

Kathryn describes herself as a whistle-blower, the title is perfect. Meaning that while she cares for human rights, her mission was to enlighten the world of an issue. To get us to see what was, and still is, going on.

I went to the Bible, finally today, after a long day of self-pity and confusion. It's no use wallowing, something a smart grandma of mine said once when I was in the third grade. I couldn't find a second shoe and as I sat down to cry about it, I heard her swift voice from around the corner. It might as well have been God's. "Well crying isn't going to help us find your shoe any faster." I heard the reason, there was no denying how right she was. So, why as a 25 year old mother do I still find myself face down and weeping? Old habits die hard, again and again and again.

After I pulled myself somewhat together, I headed for the park to clear my mind. I knew doing something would help and, as always, I had a trusty golden retriever to keep me company, and busy! This time it was my sister's pup and even though he is better on the leash than my dog, his people skills are lacking. He barked at every one who passed by and informed me that he didn't think very highly of an old man carrying a golf club. Even though I don't condone growling, I could hardly blame this protective puppy. I caught a glimpse of my pregnant belly and sided with my dog. Sorry old man, but I wouldn't go swinging your golf club around any more dogs.

Anyway, once I got home and showered, etc. I FINALLY, finally, acknowledged my desire, my need, to open the Bible. I turned right to Ezekiel, the part about God wanting to destroy Jerusalem because of its total demise (Chapter 7). Kind of a grimy topic, but when I think about it now, how far have we really come as a people?

I fell upon this line, verse 26, and could see a resemblance,

"They will go searching for a vision from a prophet,

priestly instruction in the law will cease,

the counsel of the elders will come to an end."

I won't argue that it is daunting, but how much more so that we have reasons, such as the accounts of human-trafficking, that if God did come down again, to see His wrath poured out and the innocent lives defended, not to be surprised?

I won't leave you hopeless though. In Chapter 9, verse 4 God called to a man to protect those who mourned over the detestable things being done in Jerusalem. Those who grieved would be saved. Those who still had souls enough to realize that life was going horribly wrong. Maybe sitting down and acknowledging a deep pain isn't the worst thing we can do. Maybe it allows for God to intervene and get rid of the wicked. Then again, he called on Ezekiel to spread the word. I guess I have a reason for doing both this time. 

Looking for That.

Confidence by Joyce Meyer.
Book of the week. One of them. I'm also reading Shakespeare by Bill Bryson and have only a chapter to go in James Dobson's Bringing Up Boys.
I love reading. I love filling myself up with knowledge. I thought about the oddity of that today as I read Shakespeare. I was going to spend a moment thinking about something I read, but instead I wanted to race on to the next word, the next thought, a new page. Why is that, I wondered? I reasoned that it was because books are made to "get through." I need to finish the novel in order to get the full picture, and then, upon contemplation, I would figure what it was all about. However, in the process, am I short changing myself by rushing through the process? I have the nagging suspicion I am, so allow me to elaborate here.

The exact fact I wanted to dissect then is actually escaping my mind now. As I recall, the last few pages I read were plagued with interesting information. The fact that theatrical prosperity lasted only as long as Shakespeare's life, if not a little longer is incredible. Talk about being born at the right place, in the right time. Fascinating really that one man would experience such beautiful opportunity for his precise skills and talents. I'd like to tap into that power source, whatever it was at work in him.

What else was there? The hardly new, but noteworthy, idea that all of the plays in London used men to portray the female roles, while other countries, such as Spain, actually used women. Maybe Shakespeare was hoping London would catch up with the times a little bit and include some females in the cast. It sure would have made life a little easier for all the males who were cast in so many roles and different plays within a month and even weeks of each other.

All of that is to say that I find books so intriguing because of all I can learn during the process of reading, as well as, the final product of completing a story, when I can sit back and say, "Ah."
I'm lucky, in a sense, to have so much time right now to read, while I'm at home, resting. This should be good, but I also don't like wasting time. I feel like I should be out, doing. Which is why I'm drawn to the other book, Confidence. I just read this, "A confident person feels safe. She believes she is loved, valuable, cared for and safe in God's will for her. When we feel safe and secure, it's easy to step out and try new things" (11).
Maybe this is obvious, but maybe it is helpful. I think somewhere along the way between getting married and reconsidering some of the notions I developed during college, my confidence was shaken. I didn't feel proud of who I was, nor did I feel confident in who I had been during those years. So, I was in limbo. Feeling pulled this way and that, ashamed of this, angry about that. I believe God is leading me towards a place of serenity with who I am now, in His will and His plan. No longer to be shifted around in the wind, but solid with a foundation built on rock. I look forward to that transformation, to that change, towards that confidence, towards that reinvention of me, myself and I. I like who I am, I just want to be the way outwardly, like I feel I am on the inside. Amen. and Good night everybody. I hope you all find what you're looking for and that life holds for you the fulfillment of all of God's promises.
~Jenn

Overwhelming Gratefulness

Is that an oxymoron? It seems like it would be. No one can explain why "jumbo shrimp" is aa oxymoron, it just is. Well, perhaps you would explain, "A jumbo shrimp is an oxymoron because 'shrimp' is another way of saying small and jumbo, as you very well know, means large." The irony! It is, however, also an accurate description of a shrimp of unusual size in comparison to the smaller members of it's species.

Back to overwhelming gratefulness. I am referring more to the feeling being contradictory than the phrase itself. When I feel such feelings of thankfulness, I almost become lethargic, depressed, unworthy and so, what do I do when I feel an overwhelming thankfulness? Even though there is this innate desire to step down from what I'm doing, I can't. I can't give up on my duties because I am not dute of the joy that comes with accomplishing a task or receiving so much grace and blessing simply by living your life. That is the life of a Christian, after all. I am beginning to understand that my expression of praise and appreciation must never cease, especially in those moments.

For some reason or another, it can be easy to forget how happy and blessed I might have felt only moments, but maybe days, earlier. Unfortunately, I know this exchange quite well. I am determined to change that though. The Bible tells us that we can have, "A pure heart and a sound mind" and I believe it. I am tired of the back and forth, quite honestly. I read about Nehemiah today whose goal it was to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem, and so he did. This was a task filled with monotony, and practical insanity because during the rebuilding his people were under constant scrutiny and attack by invaders. He had to press in daily to the promise he heard from God and keep that mission strong. He had to inspire those he was with and pray alongside them for peace and power and perseverance. He also had to bowl the trumpet to sound alarm, keeping guard throughout the night and then work, hard labor, at rebuilding a wall during the sweltering hours of the day. Could you imagine if one day he just didn't want to get out there and do his job? If he just wanted to give up because, alas, he was never really qualified to begin with? No! He's a man to look up to and be inspired by.

God is good and faithful and will stay with us throughout a task as long as we can keep our eyes and our focus on Him. I've noticed that when I struggle the most, I have most likely lost sight of God or have stopped listening to those little nudges in my spirit telling me to turn this way or that. Those moments are important, not because God wants me to do as He says, but because He has the best interest for me. I see that by living it out. By feeling the joy that comes when I live according to His plan.

I mess it up plenty of times. Sometimes, I can feel myself plain not listening.
"Nope, I don't want to hear the correction," I think. "I know what you're going to tell me and I don't want to right now."

Apologize.

I'll hear it if I'm open to it, but sometimes, I'm not. And when I am, when I finally do what I knew to do in the first place, there's peace and less pressure. I can't explain it better than that. Maybe it isn't apologize for you, maybe it is
Speak Up
Quiet Down
Have Peace
Rest
Listen
Approach Me
Ask Questions
Whisper
Love
Whatever it is, when you follow God's voice, everything turns out well. It takes patience. It takes courageousness. Its worth it! Absolutely. I hope you'll give it a try and realize you aren't as far away as you might feel and that everything is going to work out alright!

Jenn.

Prayer Journal

I was finally able to talk to a friend tonight who I haven't spoken to in so long! It felt so great! How can I explain why? I guess because she has been there with me through everything in my adult life. In the last seven years I've known this girl through college, through that time of awkward transition of high school senior to college freshman. Our friendship has survived trials, bouts of terrible character (on my part!) and just the waves that distance creates. She has gone on to accomplish our dream, going on to complete her credential and she is now going on her third year of teaching! I am so proud of her. She is such an amazing, strong woman. It's amazing that I get to know her and that she has stuck by me through all these years, especially since she isn't even part of my immediate family! I'm thankful that my relationship with God has reminded me how important it is to keep those you love in your life and in your prayers.

One of the most awesome things about being friends with people for so long is that they see all of the changes within us. They are able to look past whatever gunk is in that moment and see who we really are. Good friends will do that for us. They will allow us to see ourselves as they see us and so that we can make the decision to keep pressing on because, well, what other option do we have? Especially when you have seen trials with that person before, then you are able to see whatever you are going through for just what it is. Another trial, another mountain that IS going to get out of your way!

I'm so grateful for that girl and for all of the moments in my life that I will be able to overcome simply because of her presence in my life. She was a great influence when I met her all those years ago and a great one still. I'm so proud of you and know God has great things in store for you! Keep holding on...if you ever read these things, you know who you are!

I hope everyone else is having a great night and that a friend, a family member, a pet, or whoever can be that person for you. They are like a shined up reflection of ourselves after all. Choose wisely who you allow to hold that reflection for all those years and make decisions you can be proud to share with that one person (maybe two or three, if you're (really) lucky)!

Love,
Jenn

Abortion

Please read the following article:
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/05/14/us/kermit-gosnell-abortion-doctor-found-guilty-of-murder.html?hp&_r=0

An article on Philadelphia's twisted case of late-term abortions and one patient's accidental overdose.
It's heart-wrenching for me. Was it for you? Were you able to read through the entire article without flinching, without looking away?

I was walking on the treadmill while reading the New York Times. The headline comes up on a nifty News&Weather App I have on one of the home pages I have on my phone. "Abortion" was all I needed to see to know there had been an update on the case that began circulating, at least in my circle, only weeks before.

I attend a small church in Beaumont, CA. I say small only because it feels that way. The number of the congregation is bigger than any other community I've ever been involved in besides my huge, immediate and non-immediate family. But, for a non-religious audience or for anyone unfamiliar with a church, if you came to mine you might be under the impression that this is an extremely small town and be confused for a moment with the hard-pressing reality that churches like this do in fact still exist. My Pastor calls to families from the pulpit, he recognizes us by face and knows the members of our family that only come out every once and awhile. He is concerned for the baby in my womb and the ones that will be there in the future. He prays for all of that and he is only one of the people who feels so connected with all of us who attend that church.

He is the one who first brought the story to my attention. I believe it was a Sunday morning, although it could have been Wednesday night, when he mentioned the recent revelation of an abortionist in Philadelphia found to have murdered babies when the attempt at late-term abortion failed. It was disgusting to me then, and even more so now. My heart is literally ripping apart inside of me; not because I wish to judge anyone who has experienced the exact situation or those who deal with their own consciences in that decision. But because as I was there on the treadmill, I felt my own 24 week old baby inside of me and instantly recalled the moments in this week alone when I have sat and felt him kick and prayed to God for his inevitable health and safe delivery.

I'm not perfect. I didn't always feel so strongly or sweetly about the preservation of infant life. However, having a child inside of me makes me want to rescue every puppy I see, not to mention the unborn children of my friend who might, some day, make the decision to abort in light of her circumstance. I'm so overwhelmed by the feeling of attachment to my baby, all I can be is grateful for his life and for the fact that I am now at a place in my life when I would be MOST comfortable raising him. I'm not back in my college days facing an unexpected predicament. I'm not in the arms of someone who is only pretending to love me. My husband lays with me and feels the baby kick and laughs when he sees my enjoyment at talking to our son and playing with him already. I'm grateful and now I understand why other mothers love their children so much. I wouldn't wish a different predicament on anyone else.

All of this is to say, we need to do something to stop what happened in Philadelphia. There will be those who want to use fear to protest abortion saying, "If we completely ban late-term facilities than even more women will turn to quack doctors" but I'm pleading, let's not settle! The idea is to stop abortions past 20 weeks because it has been discovered that those age infants have pain sensors and as one person asked, "Why is it murder once the baby is out of the womb, but not while he or she is inside at the exact same age?" The answer is, there is no logical or fair explanation except platitude. We cannot control society, or so it is said, so we make exceptions, we make laws to include the degenerates so we don't feel as badly about the high number of people who are breaking the law.

I can't help thinking that even this wouldn't work, even though many states already make 20 weeks the legal limit for abortion. My personal agenda is an end to all abortions, but how can that be? We can't tell people, "No." They hate that. They feel trapped, criticized and want to do what they want to do. I've been there. So what do we do? We shed light. We ask for a new reason to have children. Not to procreate the intelligent, elitist race. That would eliminate the abortions from parents who are just not ready, financially. I'll tell you right now, my husband and I have no idea how we are going to set aside that fifty dollars a month we dream about for our son's college fund, but I know for sure he will never be a drain on society. I will love him and take care of him enough to ensure that either he gets a job and makes a living or works hard enough to put himself through college like I had to do. With a father and mother's influence, a kid is less likely to end up in prison. Don't believe me, check the histories of most inmates. Does the record claim, "Child of loving parents?" No. More like, the reason that most serial killers are so outrageously surprising is because they come from "normal" households. Probably not Christian, but two-parent nonetheless. It is an anomaly for a convict to come from a fulfilling household. So, please let's start teaching the truth in schools again. Sex, most often, leads to children. If you want to have a successful family, wait to have sex. A successful family usually results from two committed people making the ultimate sacrifice of getting married. Therefore, wait until you are ready to get married to have sex and then you will be ready to have a child.

I know this doesn't answer every question or present every possible solution, but God is good and He is working it all out. Amen to that. (Amen means "So be it"). Also, any reference to a quote is made directly from the article posted at the top.

~Jenn

A Few Things About Being a Mom

(This is me at twenty weeks with little Hezekiah snugged tightly)

I've never been more thankful for decaf coffee than I am tonight! When all things seems crazy and I can't figure out where my brain is or when I'll get my old self back, I sure am glad I can pretend to have it all together and sit back, and sip, sip, sip on a cup of coffee made just right. :)

After looking at pictures of myself, which I've been taking since about ten weeks into the pregnancy, I can finally understand what moms mean when they say, "I wish I could get my body back!" I actually thought that tonight! I was looking at a picture from 12 weeks or even fourteen weeks and then one from tonight--22 weeks. It makes no sense. I know I'm pregnant. I know it will not stay the same, but my mind is coming from a whole new perspective. The sound track sounds something like this.

Oh, you're body will never be your own.

And your son is not even yet full grown.

Yet you sit and wonder why you are unhappy.

It's probably because you're feeling flabby.

Well, that is not important when you're growing something in your bellyyyy.

Got to let it go and 

be happy!

Happy he's a boy and happy your alive.

Keep believing it will change and that you will be alright!

Oh yeah, I've got mad skill. Good night everybody. I just wanted to try my first blog with adding a picture. I'm liking it <3 

love, jenn

It's been a long day!

No other words to describe it, but of course there are or else this blog would be extremely short and somewhat unnecessary. It will probably be neither of those things.

I've been thinking a lot about life and meaning and my purpose and all of that and I've come to the conclusion that I have no answer for any of those and I really need to stop thinking about them except for the fact that I really don't want to and I find the answers of the utmost importance. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is!?

No, actually, today was a great day. I walked to the park, even though my breathing is getting more difficult. I couldn't believe how hard it is just walking! I sincerely hope that being pregnant is not synonymous with being out of shape! Anyhow, I went for a walk, I made dinner, I cleaned up after dinner, I finished reading a chapter and I began a new chapter in my own book. The new chapter is on eating disorders so the topic is heavy, but I'm so passionate about the topic (apparently) that the words flew out of me. I'm struggling writing this book in that it is taking me so long, but not in the sense that I continue to feel strongly about the cause for it. I suppose I feel purposeful and useful when I write on this stuff. It makes me feel hopeful and helpful when I begin writing. I really can't wait to be finished!

The book I'm reading is by a woman named Marilynne Robinson called, When I Was a Child I Read Books. When I read the title at the library I had to auto-correct my pronunciation of read (present verb) to read (past). It made much more sense that way! It is a combination of many essays. In the beginning, I was smitten with the essays. "Freedom of Thought" for starters was invigorating for my mind to play around with. The author had new ideas, for me at least, on the conversation between Christianity and Science and to my great surprise Marilynne is a Christian! I had no idea she would be when I picked the book up at the library, but it was a pleasant surprise. The next essay was "Imagination and Community." Another great one on the effects of denying religion on our overall sense of imagination and how that effects us as a community. That is really too brief to do justice to all of her ideas, but suffice to say I was interested and enabled to ponder. Great qualities. However, as I carried on, I got to an essay or so I felt like skimming and then I decided to skip around a bit, to find a title I felt drawn to. This might not all be the author's fault, I will say. I have a thing about jumping from one place to another.

Eventually though I made it to the final essay, of my night, "Wonderous Love." Catchy title, isn't it? But this time I was engaged in a much different way. My opinion differed. I wanted to debate with someone. I wanted to see how far off my disagreement would be with another who read this same essay. See, she was arguing that Christians now push their religion on America out of fear of secularism. That we who might push our beliefs on others are being nationalistic and are in insubordination of what our Founder Fathers wanted. I don't agree. Or perhaps, I want to know who she is talking about. At the very least her encounter with those pushing American ideals, who also see America as wrong, is closed minded. The patriotic Christians I know love America, in it's ideals, but we are no longer a country who lives for our ideals. We do not stand behind our troops and rejoice when they come home or support the cause while they're abroad. We definitely don't support family or reject those who flaunt their adultery as prized behavior. Not that we are judges or even God, but I dispute that we "push" religion with the fact that we are called to keep people on the right track. To remind those around us that God loves us and that we should treat others as we would like to be treated. We are called to tell women to raise their standards of treatment. That to be called a sex symbol is not a compliment, it means that young men will never be able to fully love their imperfect, yet beautiful wives because those men have an unreal and overly available image of your naked body in their minds. There are things that the patriotic Christians I know don't want to stand for, but it isn't out of fear of secularism, it is out of loyalty and belief in the way God has called us to live. To set examples of light for others to see and to be drawn to. I'd also like to make a distinction between secularism and Globalization. It seems that Marilynne's set group of Christians were against spreading into other cultures or allowing the mixture. I don't doubt the existence of such people, but I would differentiate between not wanting to mix cultures and lowering our standards of appropriate behavior. Or better said would be globalization is the aiding and aid of other countries, the appropriation of useful technologies, etc. To me, secularism means pop-culture, it means following trends. If we know that history repeats itself and that problems recorded in the Old Testament are still issues people struggle with today, why on Earth would anyone be okay with secularism? Maybe I'm being closed minded now and even just cutting it short, but it seems to me that we are called to be the salt of the land as well as the image of love to our neighbors. Maybe we aren't perfect, but taking a stand is not a hate crime. It simply says, "I draw the line here. I'm getting too far away from where God has called me to be." That's reasonable and it isn't fear, it's wisdom.

Good night everybody. Comment on this if you've read her stuff! I need to join a book club...
~Jenn

Pictures

God is so good.
I've been looking at pictures tonight and I'm reminded of two things.
One: Not much has changed over time although in my mind drastic, monumental events have taken place.
Two: Not sure this is a good thing, but "I might not be as good as I once was, but I'm as good once, as I'll ever be."
Very reassuring, I'm sure :)

Did you ever feel like...

life was moving so fast you just couldn't catch up?
Or how about,
you finally caught up with life and wanted to stay in that moment,
but then,
life started moving again.
Do you hold onto that moment
or push past with it tucked into your coat's lapel
like the beautiful rose that it was
with a scent to clear your nostrils
and the peace to ease your pain?

I felt that way today. Maybe it is this pregnancy. Maybe it is being pregnant and realizing I'm not exactly where I want to be. I'm literally at home on my computer, so not much has changed. Except that I'm pregnant and married and this baby is moving and I'm finding that life is not quite so different at all. I am still who I am with much to offer these two men. It is a matter of tapping into that fact, I suppose.

Of not being ashamed that I've put on so much weight! I thought it was impossible, to be honest. Or perhaps I had once feared it, but here it is anddddddd, wait for it, the only thing different is, I'm not trying to cover it up. In fact, people are drawn to it. "They" even have an endearing name for this new package I have, the baby bump. Perhaps you have heard of it? Interesting. Not quite as cute when you are the one sporting said baby bump, but here I am nonetheless, finding myself skating by on the compliments of, "Oh how cute! You are already showing!" Why, yes, I am. How kind of you to notice.
So, what do I hold onto then if not the illusion of vanity? Especially since the changing body shape is suppose to be a blessing, although can be quite encumbersome. Someone else please look up how to spell that word because I don't want to lose this train of thought.
These are just the rantings of a pregnant lady because I have no idea what I am doing and all of my close friends live nowhere around and I'd rather die than admit that it sucks. It sucks being alone and pregnant, trapped in your own dormitory of thought.
Luckily, I don't have to stay there. There is this high order of release I feel when I realize God has seen me all along. I would have gone crazy, but for sure Grace. Words don't do Him justice though, so I think I'll leave it at that for now. God is good and that's about all I know for sure at this point. Here's hoping that this is just a catalyst for good thoughts to flow and an excellent life to begin (the one inside me of course). I'll just continue living mine, looking for that ever popular silver lining or, the Biblical and true, rainbow after the storm. God gets me every time. Good night all. I hope you had a blessed day.
<3 Jenn

Philippians 4:4 "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!"

My mission for the day: be grateful. Sounds easy, right? It better be! I have an amazing family and a loving husband. I have a beautiful job babysitting such a cute little girl. I have two cute doggies who are going to need a walk. Oh, and that's right, I have an adorable, intelligent baby on the way :) Whose, by the way, heartbeat Greg and I listened to yesterday until I started cracking up and ruined it all :P I have an incredible best friend who wasn't satisfied with me waiting until 8 pm to tell her whether or not the doctor revealed the baby's gender or not (she didn't). But yeah, overall, life is awesome and I'm happy to be practicing thankfulness, even as a 25 year old who should have it down pat. :) Ah well... Have a good day everybody!

I am not the Redwood.

I wish it were simple. Or, it could be hard, but then I wish it would be methodical. It is an easy thing to do to follow a formula. All you have to do is complete steps A through E in order to reach your solution, right? How much better are your odds, or how much does your success rate increase if the solution is already known? For example, if we knew to do this in every situation and then to do that in those types of situations and we knew that by behaving thus we would reach Heaven!? Wouldn't that be the absolute best thing in the world? To go just one step further and to prove how fail safe that system would be, I must also include that if, by some terrible misfortune, once someone misjudged a situation and acted in Form A rather than in Form B and realized that they had handled the situation inappropriately, they would then change the behavior to the more appropriate choice in order to gain success in the next similar situation they were in thereby guaranteeing that the end result would still, ultimately, be going to Heaven!
Now, why aren't we programmed this way? Why don't we behave in expected patterns and follow predestined roles? I suppose it's because that would be boring. While some explain this phenomena as "free-will," I believe that humans change as seasons change. Unless you handle an incident completely obscurely, like laughing when someone else cries, you probably don't have anything mechanically wrong with you. However, if you act contrary to what society expects of you, say accepting a job offer with no benefits but because you love it in place of taking a job that's offering complete security in an offensive, cruel environment you might have made a choice (thus supporting the argument for free-will), but more importantly, would you have made that decision five years later? Once you had fallen in love and had some sort of spiritual awakening, calling you to transform even the darkest holes of the Earth? Probably not. Any and every decision we make is based on the perfect timing of our existence. And if it isn't then perhaps you stay in a continual season of obedience to the first plan you ever laid. Or perhaps your life is sturdy, you were meant to weather the storm like a Redwood Tree. Never ceasing to exist due to the changes in your environment, but adapting and finding anyway you can to survive.
I am not the Redwood. Plain and simple. I'm more like the bird who perches in it's canopy and waits for  the right time to move on to the next branch, the next forest, the next season. But what happens when that bird wants to land? When that bird decides that now is the time to settle down, to become more like the tree than the bird? Is it impossible? Is it unhealthy, has something taken a hold of the bird that means to destroy it? There are those parasitical relationships in nature that can either harm one organism, or become mutually beneficial. I don't want to believe I am a bird with some parasite that threatens my existence. So, what am I then and how can I explain this to myself so that I have some peace of mind? It says in the Bible that there is nothing better for a man than to live and be happy. The author of Ecclesiastes wrote that he had seen men live both happily and miserably and in the end, both perish so he urges us to be happy. Why be miserable your entire life if in the end we all come to the same conclusion?
Theoretically, this argument seems right to me. Even now, I'm thinking, "Yeah, I'll just be happy. No big deal." But, to clarify I have never thought, "I'm just going to be miserable." Never. Not once did I think that being miserable sounded better than being happy. However, I definitely have made decisions that I didn't necessarily think would have happy conclusions because...because why? Because we all do it? Because I was afraid of the consequences if I didn't do something I was "suppose" to do? Because I was too weak to make the better decision because it was hard in the moment, even though I knew the end result would be better? The result of not following that small piece of advice has been hugely detrimental in my life, but also excessively instrumental. At times, I have gone against my gut reaction because after assessing the situation I realized that what I wanted intrinsically was not going to make me happy. That is the way I got over a lot of "addictions." I put addictions in quotes because what I have called addictions before, I now feel more comfortable referring to as habits. We are all creatures of habit, from the little white mice in the labs to the overgrown humans we've become. We are all fed on the same lies and corruption of corporations and government experiments. It's okay. Until it's not. But that's probably best for another time and place and maybe a different author.
The point is, I'm wondering where my life is going to end up. I'm realizing some things must change and I'm wondering how to do that. I'm also realizing that we all know. In some way or another and if you don't yet, you will reach a point where you want to stop hearing from everyone else about what they do that works and you'll want to start hearing what God wants you to do to make your life work. Is it going to school and making a difference because then other kids will want to start spreading some positivity too? Is it going to work and being honest because so few people are and you know it will really stand out? Is it staying home and raising your children because God has called you to put all the love in your heart and all of you amazing qualities that only other house wives (or husbands!) could ever understand to use? Whatever it is, don't be afraid to take some time and really think about what it is you want to do because in the end that's all any of us are doing and you'll only ever be the best at doing whatever it is you were really meant to do! And besides, if you're going to be the bird that wants to settle down and be like a tree, that doesn't mean you want to become a tree. It means you appreciate the tree for it's sturdiness and then carry on being the bird that lives peacefully in that same tree and gets to see the environment come full circle in the way that all environments do. Either way, it's bound to be a beautiful thing really. As long as your living to be happy ;)
I hope this helps :) I've still got some intense, but happy, thinking to do of my own!
Love lots,
Jenn

Direct my path, O Lord.

It sounds weird or maybe it doesn't. Honestly, I'm not sure. It could differ depending on who you are while reading this letter. I'll call it a letter because I'm wondering who's reading it and I'm imagining it as a piece of paper crumbled up that you've stumbled upon. In a way you have, minus the tangibleness of this specific piece of information. Probably, it feels more like a letter because it feels more like a journal entry to me. I stopped writing in my journal awhile ago..things like this anyway. I keep the occasional entry of pain or interest, special memory or necessary fact. Regardless, this type of entry I began posting to the world wide web. Why? You must be wondering. You aren't? Well, good. I'm not sure of the answer myself. I like writing on my laptop, honestly. There is less critique on the appearance of my font. What a silly detail to be concerned with, wouldn't you say? I would, but it is unavoidable. I agonize over it. Sometimes I write in cursive, but it reminds me that I used to write in "normal" font and then I wonder why I am being so presumptuous, so I switch to my usual handwriting and I struggle to read my own writing and I see it, in all of it's glorious, rushed sloppiness and I think, "Switch to cursive. It looks better. It is more legible and besides, you've gotten rather good at it (in my thoughts I often say rather and it reminds that I always wanted to be British and I smile)." But anyway, I have this debate with myself about which font to use in my handwriting and it is now so freeing to escape in my thoughts through technology. Less judgement. Imagine that.

I apologize, I've gotten so off track. I meant to begin writing on how it is important to know where you are going before you begin going there. Before I get to that though, I feel like I must share with you why on earth such a topic as this is even on my mind. God's been bringing it up, a lot. Last week I shared that I wanted to write a book. I want to express my ideas on an issue I'm really passionate about and have personal experience in. I want to talk about being a woman and what that means when you reach college age and on, perhaps starting even before college. Actually it could be any age, the dates are only specific for me, but the information doesn't change.

I want to tell people about the pain I experienced because I went off track. I started doing my own thing and I want to show how great God is, in all His glory and splendor because countless times He put me back on track. It's amazing how often He does it for me and I know many other people who are daily affected by His grace as well. I personally couldn't make it through my days or weeks without His interruptions. My life gets muddled when I do it on my own.

Well, as I said, God started speaking to me about a certain area in my life that isn't quite as public as I like to think it would be. To write a book, to publish a novel, on how much God has converted my life would mean wanting to make a very serious claim. It would mean having a legitimate concern that I felt desperately drawn to correcting, at minimum, to helping. That is all fine, except for what I was saying in my heart and my mind weren't always the same thing.

I would feel convicted when I stopped writing. Be it a week or a day, something was missing and I knew, I knew, I wasn't doing all I should be doing or was supposed to do. It didn't feel like I was failing, but like I wasn't being fulfilled or getting my brain turning properly. I was losing oxygen! Compare it to working out and how you feel if you miss a regular trip to the gym or the track or wherever you drop beads. If you aren't into working out, think about missing your regular prayer time, or cup of coffee. You feel off. You know which activity you skipped, but you aren't fully convinced that skipping that week or day would affect you that much. Except that it does and that's how you know. You know it is important to your scheduling. It is a built in piece of your schedule, your life, and you need it to function normally, even optimally. So, I went back to writing, but then something was still lacking. Not during the writing process, but the completion process. I would feel myself drag it out and I prayed hard against feeling doubt. Against feeling like I'm not worthy of introducing the topic or just of having my say in the matter. I prayed about the topic a lot and I think God gave me a new little clue on the subject. Do you mind if I share that with you? (If not, I'm going to continue. If you do, don't keep reading, unless you want to, then by all means, continue...)

I felt convicted. For the last few months I have been in circumstances that went against everything I am going to tell young women to do in the chapters of my book. It isn't that I'm lying to my friends (those who have been in the above listed circumstances) or that I don't fully believe what it is I want to write in my book. But there was this huge, enormous, vast, galactic space between what I wanted to do to help young women throughout the world and those who are at my finger-tips who I get to love on daily and who I love, dearly. See, when a friend of mine goes through a situation, my first instinct is to comfort them, but I'm so soft inside. Comfort, for me, does not come in the form of direct honesty. If I'm feeling fat and crying about it, please don't tell me to put away the candy bar because yes, indeed, you've noticed it too! I need reassurance. All I really want is excuses, but that isn't going to change anything, is it? I'm going to continue beating myself up, but if I don't hear the true answer, the one that will actually help me out of the situation, how can I change?

And see, my friends come to me when they are struggling and I tell them the answer that will make them the most comfortable with the decision they are going to make, regardless of what I say. Or so I think. Maybe they will make a decision, regardless of what I say, but at least they won't have me piling on advice that I don't even stand behind or support. I'm afraid of conflict, to be honest with you. I want to ease the tension (or so I think, maybe my husband would disagree). In my friendships though, I know that to be true. I want to build them up and I never thought I could do that by telling them the truth, the way I saw it, the way I think God would want it to be done. And I don't mean make them feel judged for their decisions either! I mean telling them the exact same thing I'm writing in the book. I mean explaining how hurt I was after I made a similar decision or even what the Bible says on that issue because I believe everything the Bible says to be true and to lead to life and life more abundantly. If I'm not leading my friends to that path, what am I really doing? I feel bad thinking of it, but I still feel frightened to make the change. To begin professing the truth, even in the uncomfortable moments. I pray for strength and wisdom to know when to speak and when to hold my tongue and when to speak with love and when to just walk away and let it be (if ever).

To sum it all up, I finally realized that my final goal is getting to Heaven and I want to take as many people with me as I possibly can. I had this image of getting there and seeing people who are thankful for what I said to them because they all decided to change their lives and then got into Heaven also. Compared with the image of seeing only my family members who have been Christians longer that I have been anyways. Both would be great, but I'm reaching because I want to make a difference. A permanent impact, not a momentary happiness. "Give a man a fish and he'll eat for the day. Teach a man to fish and he'll eat for the rest of His life."Amen.

It's raining out. It's beautiful. God loves you and thinks you're His most precious creation. Remember that in everything you do and remember to keep pressing on until you find what you're looking for. God honors that and promises wisdom. I love that about Him.

Love always,
Jenn

Writing a book...

I thought it would come easily. Perhaps it's because I didn't know what to expect from the process. I thought I had been given an idea to write a book about what women could do to stay on track, to follow Christ, thereby bypassing all the pain and humiliation that I went through. I thought I could give all of the knowledge I had away, but the more time that goes by, I realize I have very little to write about or at least not enough to write a whole book about. Yet, I feel compelled to not give up. I'm reading about Ezekiel, I'm reading about God's wrath on Jerusalem and Israel against those who have turned away from God, who have broken their covenants with Him, and have turned and done their own things. I don't want to do that, let alone think about all the ways I have once done that in my old life. It is sad to read in Ezekiel how God describes His anger towards Jerusalem,  "an Adulterous Wife."

You see, there is a semblance between God's love for her in her youth and how God felt about me, how He feels about us, as children. He says that He sees her and when she is old enough for love, what does He do? Does He throw her to the world and say, "Learn quickly, dear, how to please those around you in order to succeed? To survive?" NO. He tells her, "I spread the corner of my garment over you and covered your naked body. I gave you my solemn oath and entered into a covenant with you...and you became mine"(verse 8).

He protected her. He cared for her in a way so soft and gentle and pure that it seems foreign to my jaded-American mind. I find this sort of romance obscure, and enticing. It is so different from not the love stories of our time, but from our realities. So many of us fell prey to hands who hurt us, into paths we thought we could trust only to be deeply and painfully betrayed. A life so wretched we built up our walls and declared that no one, ever again, would possess the power to hurt us. Maybe, like Jerusalem, we turned into those hurt women who "lavished [your] favors on anyone who passed by and [your] beauty became his." Why? Why would we do this? Is it because we had lost our self-respect all those years and times ago of violence or because we learned by example and the proverb that God quotes is unfortunately still true, "Like mother, like daughter."Maybe it isn't your mother and maybe it wasn't mine, but we are led by example and what we saw was women with loose values and tight clothing and we thought that was the example to live by. But, God has redeemed you and He has redeemed me and He is calling us to a higher life-style.

He never stopped thinking of you as beautiful. In fact, at first He provided you with your beauty, your jewels, your provisions, your clothing, and your fame. "But, you trusted in your beauty and used your fame to become a prostitute." Again, why do we do that sort of thing? I wouldn't be able to have an answer for myself, let alone for everyone. What I do know is that God's love can overcome even our darkest deeds, even the one area in our lives that we would hardly be able to forgive someone else in, betrayal. He does though. By the end of the chapter God promises to restore our fortunes along with our sisters' who have committed similar sins, although they are sins of different natures. He says, "I will remember the covenant I made with you in the days of your youth, and I will establish an everlasting covenant with you" (verse 61). All throughout Ezekiel God is raging against the people of Israel and Jerusalem, all to ensure that they will know that He is Lord.

I wondered, at first, why He would do that but when I read this chapter, Chapter 17, I realized how true this story was for me. I had been protected as a small child and favored as a youth and it wasn't until college that I believed that beauty, that attraction, came from somewhere in myself so I began mining a well that was not very deep. In fact, it went dry very quickly and without God, it wasn't being replenished. So, like Jerusalem's sisters, Sodom and Samaria, I found my older, purer sister too good, too matronly and my younger sister too bothersome, too innocent. I shamed myself over and over by seeking lovers who, in God's good plan, would have gone their own ways leaving just one, the right one for me. I got to the point where I could no longer stand. I was alone and weary and needing to renew my covenant with Christ. He came through. He pulled me up from the pit I had so willingly and blindly jumped into. He gently guided me away from shame, from embarrassment and from pain and led me into the arms of my husband. A man who I am learning to trust and who is patient with me. I'm learning to rely on God's promises as well and to know He means it when He says that He will establish a new covenant with us. I want that and I need that and I remember He is the Lord of my life every minute, if not more.

Psalm 51:10

Psalm 51:10

Create in me a clean heart, O God

and renew a steadfast spirit within me.

SUBMISSION

What a painful topic this used to be for me. Uncomfortable, after the initial anger. I didn't understand it and I certainly didn't like the way it was being talked about. You can imagine how unexpected it was when I finally saw what God was doing in my life in order to bring the topic full circle for me!

It was the last week in my yearly devotional and so depressing was the book of Ezekiel that I almost gave up on the plan! I had two days more and even still it took me a whole week to complete those small, daily devotionals. I found the destruction and wrath all too much while reading Ezekiel, even though I was easily comforted by the chapter from Luke that happened to follow this section of the reading plan. (It is the Robert Roberts plan that pulls a section from both the Old and New Testament). It wasn't until tonight that I realized how wrong my judgement had been at what God was really trying to teach me.

Isn't that what always happens when we try to skim and then think we have it all figured out? Or when you butt in at the tail-end of a conversation only to realize you have completely misunderstood or gotten the "wrong gist" after you had already interjected? Well, at least it's embarrassing and at most it is just plain rude. I had done that to God, unfortunately. I just told my husband this morning that I thought what God was showing me is that we, indeed, need to hold the New Testament at a special place in our hearts and lives. See, if we choose to value one section of the Bible over another, we are missing out on the complete message and lesson from the Lord and Savior. I needed God to elaborate on this fact, obviously. 

I thought, in my little world, that God wanted to show me how important it is to include the New Testament because without it, where would the message of love and grace be? While, in fact, this might be true, I only now am beginning to realize what a vast and rich mine that topic truly is! I prayed tonight and asked God to show me something, anything more. I was longing for an encounter with Him. I felt dry and lonely. Those are the only words to describe the desire, the ache that we can feel when we need something from God. I began reading where the marker had been placed in my Bible, in Joshua, and while it was interesting, I didn't feel drawn there. So, as I flipped the pages, I began to consider Ezekiel again. In short, the Holy Spirit was guiding me there. In long, I began considering that perhaps I had missed something the first choppy time through the book of Ezekiel. 

There have been other times though when I had read something in the Bible that I did NOT like. Then, in indignation and rebellion, I put the Bible aside and silently fumed, or promised to not return to those pages. Of course, in the heat of the moment with my recent situation, it never occurred to me that old patterns die hard. Here I was, three years later and a slightly more seasoned Christian, experiencing the same rub of offense that had threatened my submission to Christ as it had all that time ago. So, what finally happened to make me reconsider?

I wanted to see what it was all about. I have a slightly deeper relationship with Christ now and I honestly felt led to begin at page one, read through the book, and then see where that got me. I began with the introduction. And this is what it says,

"Ezekiel was a man who chose to obey God." He did as much as lie on the side of his body for more than a year because God requested it of him. Can you imagine? Can I? Well, no, honestly. I can't. I choose to do what I want and to go where I want more often than not and I am not proud about this. I have felt God calling me to ask questions, to say things, to reach out to a friend and on more than one occasion, I have denied and opted out for the comfort of my own safety bubble. It is sad, really, when I think of all that God was calling Ezekiel to do. I realize I do this a lot, too. I took what Ezekiel had to say to the Israelites so personally, that I entirely missed the admirable trait of the man that God had decided to work through. It would have been so unpleasant to go to a land of familiar people and to have to tell them all that God's wrath was coming too, only to realize that the people were beginning to hate him and might even rebel once they heard what Ezekiel had to say. But, God had told him not to fear. He told Ezekiel that as the people rebelled against God, so God would harden Ezekiel to the point of disregarding their disobedience, allowing Ezekiel to excel in his submission to the Lord. It is truly a beautiful thing to read how completely Ezekiel gets blessed by his commitment, too! In one of the first recorded visions in Ezekiel, in Chapter One, Verse 28 this is how Ezekiel describes his encounter with the glory of the Lord. "Like the appearance of a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day, so was the radiance around him."

I don't know about you, but the beauty of a rainbow has quite literally stopped me in my tracks before. There is no doubting the effect they have on me. To imagine God's glory like this is exciting. I can only wish that I might also have a similar encounter and now I pray for the obedience and submission that Ezekiel was able to show to God on that day and on every day after. Even when his tasks seemed ridiculous or impossible. That is something I can really look up to and hopefully I'll enjoy doing it. :)

On Pride

When I first began thinking about pride, it became an overwhelming topic that felt more like falling down the rabbit hole than providing any release. Once I became aware of pride in my life, I felt like a surgeon who needed to scalpel out any inclining of pride, or self-worth. I didn't understand what pride was except for a vague notion of it being walking around haughtily and feeling impenetrable. All of those things began to fall out of my life, but it wasn't making me any happier and I sure wasn't living my life more biblically. I believed I was humbling myself, but it was more like denying the person God had created me to be.

While reading in the book of 2 Chronicles, I read about a king named Hezekiah. That's where I'll really begin:

2 Chronicles 24-27.
"In those days Hezekiah became ill and was at the point of death. He prayed to the Lord, who answered him and gave him a miraculous sign. But Hezekiah's heart was proud and he did not respond to the kindness shown him; therefore the Lord's wrath was on him and on Judah and Jerusalem. Then Hezekiah repented of the pride in his heart, as did the people of Jerusalem; therefore the Lord's wrath did not come on them during the days of Hezekiah. Hezekiah had very great wealth and honor, and he made treasuries for his silver and gold and his precious stones, spices, shields, and all kinds of valuables."

I read that Hezekiah was proud, but I still didn't really grasp what pride was. So, down at the bottom of my Bible there are some helpful notes. I checked them out. It turns out I found this definition,

         "Pride is any attitude that elevates our effort or abilities above God's, or treats with disdain his work in us. It causes us to congratulate ourselves for our successes and to look down on other people."

Wow. What a relief reading that was for me! It gave me a sense of freedom in that I can love what I do, even be happy with the work of my life, but that isn't necessarily pride! As long as I acknowledge that God is the creator, that God makes it possible for all things to be completed or to happen, and that it is God's work in me that has guided me thus far. Additionally, that my accomplishments do not elevate me above the position of anyone else, no matter what, is a great source of joy for me. It makes sense, finally! So, maybe you had this all figured out already, but I am so thankful for the revelation! :)
I hope everyone's day is blessed and prosperous.
Love,
Jenn