Ode to Bast

Sebastian, my love. Here’s to 18.

For the past few days I have been searching through my photos looking for the perfect pics to celebrate your life. Snapshots of the mundane. Captures from all the moments, big and small.

9,520.

That’s the number of photos that google says I have of you. That’s a lot of pictures. I don’t often let myself wander back through that many years of pictures because it always breaks my heart to see your little pudgy cheeks, your twinkling eyes, all bright and shiny, and fully of mischievousness. But just this once, for this occasion, I let myself linger on your sweetness. I filtered out all the other photos that I have backed up over the years and narrowed it down to only the 9,520 that highlight the 18 years of your childhood…and I bawled like a baby.

So here’s to you, my little dumpling. From the moment you were born, I looked into your face and knew you were mine. I saw my face and the face of my family in your face. That was a first. And your big name seemed absurd for such a tiny little boy. But soon enough, your personality came blazing through and there wasn’t a name big enough or strong enough to capture you.

Take my hand and walk with me though birthdays’ past.

Sebastians 1st Birthday
Sebastian’s 2nd Birthday

By the time you were two, you were already running the show. You were rowdy, and silly, and everyone who met you was smitten. Your eyes would squint unevenly when you were really happy and you were always dancing and rocking out on your “Tar.” Somethings never change!

Here’s to you, you musician in the making!

Haircut before Sebastian’s 3rd Birthday.
Snow Storm just before Sebastian’s 4th birthday: 22 inches of snow in Chicago!
Cake says it all!

Before we knew it, you were 5. No one was better at jumping, spinning, kicking, and ninja-ing around Home Depot with Elias than you! You have always had the best moves: dancing like no one was watching, throwing lasers, and giving the very best hugs.

Here’s to you, you stealthy snuggler!

6th Birthday Fun at Toys R Us.

Your creativity has been a mainstay. It is hardwired in you. I have always said that creativity was oozing out of you all over the place, which is why you have always been such a messy-tessy! From drawing, to dancing, to making costumes, to learning 7,001 instruments…you are an artist and have been from very early on.

Here’s to you, you Jack-of-all-Trades and Master of the Moment!

Family Birthday dinner for Sebastian’s 7th!
Minions party with at Laser Tag for Sebastian’s 8th
Legoland with family for your 9th birthday.
Surprise birthday for your 10th: Bowling and movies with your friends and family!

Every year has seen you grow and change. But so many things have stayed true through all these years…you are a super loyal friend. Through thick and thin, you always had your friends’ backs.

Here’s to you, you friend of all friends.

BIG LOTS & Snow Cones for Sebastian’s 11th. IYKYK!
12th birthday family dinner at Olive Garden.
13th birthdays are for Chick Fil A!

And then there was 13! You took moving like a champ and those first couple of years in Texas were not the easiest. But 2020 rolled around and the future was looking bright. It was the year of the 13…and also the year the world shut down. Parties were planned and then cancelled and in honor of the shift in the space-time continuum that WAS you turning 13, a global pandemic broke out. It was a big disappointment having to put off and then put down all our big plans for your 13th Manhood celebration, but look on the bright side, we got months of hanging out, making tiktoks, watching TV until our eyes bled, and eating all kinds of junk food and lots and lots and lots of obsti-courses, but most of all, extra time with you! Party or not, you came barreling into your teens with a force all your own.

Here’s to you and the way you make every milestone memorable!

14th birthday…masked up creative car shot!
15th family dinner.
Sebastian’s 16th and all smiles with tiramisu.
Sweet 17 hot pot and a coupon book for the ages.

Trips to see your favorite bands and learning who you want to be as a man have been the most fun and rewarding parts of the last few years. From that little baby obsessed with Little Einsteins and Imagination Movers, to a young man with incredible taste and appreciation for all kinds of music, to a real artist who loves learning and playing music of your own. You have such a beautiful heart that feels deeply and lets it pour out through melodies. But probably the most amazing thing is seeing your love for God grow into a life of worship. Your life is a beautiful song that is being played out in worship of your creator. It is rich, and complex, and has the most interesting progression. Like the most satisfying of songs, just when you expect the chords to take you one place, unexpectedly they take you to a whole new place. You have the ability to transform any space of ordinary moments into orchestrated masterpieces, and I am so very lucky to be sitting in the best seats in the house.

Here’s to you and the music you make with your life.

Blowing out your 18 candles at your “surprise” 18th to kick off your birthday week.

And now, at the end of this day of your 18th birthday, it is only fitting, that I end this ode with another stanza to your song. I know you’ll know the melody in your heart. 

Goodnight, sleep tight, my grown up one;
The wait is finally done.
Goodnight sleep tight, you've made it through,
We're so proud of you.

Oh precious son, it's been a joy
to hold your hand as a boy;
Now take a leap, and spread your wings,
but don't forget this one thing:

Your mommy and daddy
will always be here
To cheer you through battles
And sharpen your spears.
So don't fret my darling,
although you are grown.
Wherever we are,
is always your home.

Our love for you will never die,
Just look up to the sky.
Our God above has given thee
To love eternally.

I love you, Badgie Bear. Happy 18th.

Beloved…

It’s been two weeks today since I lost my grandmother. One week since we said our final goodbyes on this earth and laid her body to rest. I was blessed to have her and so incredibly grateful to honor her legacy by sharing at her funeral. Below is a transcript of what I shared. We should all be so fortunate to have such a beloved person in our lives, but even better if we can be that someone.

Memaw:

I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say to honor Memaw for a long time. I have scripted anecdotes and my memories have been flooded. But nothing I have written could capture what was in my heart.  There aren’t phrases or stories or memories that I can share that will do any sort of justice to who she was.

The fact is that she had a whole entire life before me. She was this beautiful, vibrant little girl who was smart and sharp and witty. And she had little brothers, so that made her strong and gritty and resourceful. She grew up into a teenager who went out with friends and kept a scrapbook about their outings and kept gum l wrappers from her dates. Then she met Bobby Jack and fell in love. And the two of them were just kids but full of life and adventure and they had kids and they all grew up together.  And she was fashionable, and into music, and the heart of parties.  And she traveled and went to concerts and hosted friends. She and Bobby Jack ran things. They worked hard and ran businesses and ran their home and they loved strong and hard. And she lived a whole life.

But then she became a Memaw. And I am certain that though she lived such a busy, full, meaningful life before August 27, 1975, she absolutely and unequivocally found her purpose when my sister, JJ, was born. I know she was a good Momma. I know that because she raised two great kids who were well-rounded, smart, loyal, and headstrong like her. But she was unequaled as Memaw. By the time I came around, she was a professional.  And for my whole entire life, I have known nothing but 100% devotion and professional expertise from her as Memaw.

She was my favorite.  She was my favorite everything.  She was my favorite lap. She was my favorite cook. She was my favorite lullaby singer. She was my favorite story teller. Her house was my favorite.  Her bed was the coziest. Her dogs were my favorite.  She knew it too. She knew she was my favorite.  Everyone knew.
She made everything magical and special. And no matter what our make believe was, she made it her job to help bring it to life.  I can remember playing pretend in the backyard and she would bring out this set of empty potpie tins she had kept and washed and these tiny spoons that came with Sweet’n Low for me to play with. And I thought it was so fun to play with those little things.  When we wanted to play dress-up, she would bring out the prom dresses she made for my mom, or the Bar G barmaid dresses that fit me like a ballgown because I was only 3 ft tall. If we wanted a fort, she would full-on sew a tent with a door and all.

If we needed accessories to bring our toys to life, she’d help us find something around the house or in the yard for it. If we needed doll clothes she had a room full of fabric and would make us anything we could dream up. And then she taught us how to do it too. Our creativity was never limited as long as we could imagine it we could make it. She would tell me often that there was more than one way to skin a cat. She taught me and JJ and Justin and Max, to sew, and use hotglue, and repurpose just about anything into whatever it was we needed.

And all along the way she taught me everything she knew. She took the time to explain things to me. She was so smart. And she never dumbed things down for me. She taught me how to cook, and mend my clothes, and paint my nails, and plant things and harvest things. She taught me about being frugal and buying things when they are on sale to stretch your money further. She taught me about taking care of what you have and that newer isn’t always better. This was the 80s and 90s and she was definitely ahead of her time in that sense.

She loved Egyptian History and geography and cultures of the world.  She read National Geographic every single month for like 50 years. She taught me that different cultures have different ways of doing things and that it’s interesting to learn about. She was always reading and learning something new. She was always sharing with me interesting things she’d read about.

She loved music. When it was just me and her, she’d often put on records and get far away and dreamy listening to Patsy Cline. She adored Patsy Cline and western swing music.
She was absolutely my rock. She was always just a phone call away and she’d be there.  Even when I called her like 20 times in 5th grade just before math class because I didn’t do my homework telling her I was sick, she’d still come.  She’d say, “Julie, is something or someone bothering you at school” and I’d think, yeah, Ms. Wrenn and math homework,  but I’d say, “No memaw. I just really don’t feel good.”  And She’d just accept it, bring me home, and baby me.  I don’t think for one minute she believed me, she just loved me. And she was gonna dang sure be there for me if I called.

She was my Memaw and for my whole life if I had a question or was trying to figure something out, or trying to remember where to find something or how to do something,  she was my first thought and first call.

This spring, when I was putting in my garden, I called her to ask about tomato varieties she used to grow and about growing beans and  potatoes. She was so sharp and told me just how to do it, what to look out for, and when to put them in. A little while later, she called me back and I missed the call and she left me a two minute voice mail telling me more about planting and growing potatoes.  She never stopped teaching me and I never stopped needing her. And now she’s gone.

No matter how many times I told myself to cherish every moment with her because I wouldn’t have her forever,  I still was so unprepared. I really couldn’t conceive of a world without her in it. I still can’t completely appreciate this loss.  I love her and I miss her deeply. My hope and prayer is that her spirit is held deep within me and that I give the world as much as she gave me. 

life is a highway

03.07.2003

It’s an incredible thing. Life. It’s incredible. No amount of conversation or education can adequately prepare you. It happens. Moment after moment. Day after day. Year after year. There isn’t a rule book, and don’t ever let anyone tell you there is. It just isn’t true. There are no rules, just a rush of happenings that you soak in, wade through, and figure out as you go along. And every so often, you think about where you are and how you got here….and it will take your breath away if you let it. Because it’s incredible.

On a cold Friday morning in March, I went into an Omaha hospital eager to meet this new little human that was coming into the world. I had so many thoughts about how that would go and had prepared as much as I could for a thing I knew nothing about. But it is a humbling and honest statement to say that nothing can prepare you for what it means to birth a child except actually birthing a child. A few hours of the craziest mash-up of nature, and support, and hard, exhausting work and a new soul entered the world.

I can remember reading a verse around the time that Elias was born that said of Jesus, that he grew in wisdom, and stature, and in favor with God and man (Luke 2:52). I remember distinctly thinking that was such a simple phrase, but that it was somewhat of an outline. All that I longed for in my son was that somehow, some way, he would also grow in wisdom, and in stature, and in favor with God and man.

At the time, I thought it was my directive as a mother. Somewhere along the way, though, I realized that even though I was his mother, he was a person responsible for his own growth. We could teach him, but it would be he who would have to find the courage to apply it where needed. We could show him how to live in community with others, but he would have to sift through his relationships and take the good or rise above the bad. He would have to be a man of his word. He alone would cross the bridges he built with others or climb the clefts of bridges burned. And ultimately his relationship with God would be his, and his alone.

My son, in the 18 years since you changed my world, you have forever changed the lives of so many more. You have been enthusiastic and open-minded and asked great questions. You have been a loyal and true friend. You have been brave. You have found inner grit and determination. You have loved your younger brothers fiercely and wildly. You are passionate and witty and kind and exude the kind of openness that makes you light and attractive. You are a whole soul who has put real and honest thought into what you value and who you are. You are a stand-out human that Dad and I are infintely in awe that we didn’t somehow royally mess up.

If I have anything to offer you as you turn this page in your jouney it is this: pay attention to where you are and look at where you were. Life is strange and amazing and things will never happen as quickly as you want them to but also much faster than you will ever expect. So take stock. Remember that there are no rule books, only lessons to learn and decisions to make. Own your choices and keep growing.

-mom

03.07.2021

More Than Words

When I was a little girl, I had grown people in my life make statements like, “A woman shouldn’t be president.  Women are too emotional. I’m a woman; I can’t imagine having to lead a country when I’m on my period.” I, as a child, respected those people, thought they knew more than me, and found myself absorbing and regurgitating those words.

When I was a teenager,  I had grown people in my life make statements like, “A woman shouldn’t be president.  A man should be head of the country,  because man is head of the church and head of the home, so God made men to lead. If there are qualified men, then a man should be in charge.” As a teenager, I respected those people,  thought they knew more than me, and found myself absorbing and regurgitating those words.

In my 20s, I was a headstrong, competent,  capable young woman with a mind for leading, a proven track record for organizing and building teams, and a vision for ministry.  Yet I was still internalizing, rationalizing, and regurgitating faulty, baseless, and harmful ideals about women in leadership.  I had internalized that because I was a woman, my strengths and gifts had been somehow mitigated by my DNA.

But the older I got, the more I realized that in society and in scripture, women are not only equipped for, but appointed to leadership roles. As a wife who has been loved, nurtured, admired, and respected for more than 20 years by a strong, Godly man who has walked by my side and was never threatened by my gifts, I have recognized that women are not only capable and called, but also often the most competent and qualified person to lead. Women successfully plan meals, manage budgets, negotiate domestic peace treaties, and overseee health and wellness, and that is just in their own homes. Many times that is on top of their full-time careers.

Those people who said those things when I was a little girl were wrong. Categorically,  scientifically,  they were wrong. A woman’s period is not a hinderance to anything other than her wallet due to all the clothes she ruined and the pads/tampons she had to buy…and pay taxes on <<insert eyeroll here>>.

Those people who tried to teach me about women in the church were wrong too. We don’t have to split hairs about women’s roles in ministry.  That isn’t what this is about. This is about acknowledgment that we have to do better about the messages we tell young people.  I was told by too many people that my leadership gifts should only go so far and should be kept in check because it would lead to a spirit of rebellion against male authority.  We have to do better.

It is a phenomenal achievement that a woman will be Vice President.  This isn’t a political post. Regardless of where you are on the political spectrum, this is a phenomenal accomplishment. Because women are equipped to lead. Women are called to lead. Women are capable of leading. And women are, very often, the most qualified for such a time as this. What makes women unique from men also may provide exactly what is needed in a church, organization, business, or nation to find success. To find solutions. To find hope and healing.

Don’t be afraid to tell boys and girls that it’s a great accomplishment that a woman is in charge. In spite of all the messages she has been told, she has risen to the top. Be bold. Elevate this moment regarding the VP even if you don’t agree with her politics. The messages you speak now matter.

Daily Drive-Unshaken

I was gardening a couple of days ago, pulling the mass of weeds that had sprung up around my front planter when I unearthed a tiny little gray snake. Yes, you read that right…a snake. Anyone who knows me will attest that it should have proved to be a very dangerous situation for me. I have some REACTIONS, y’all. Like disproportionate, physical, convulsionary (<— probably not a word but you get the point) reactions when it comes to snakes.

But I live in Texas now, and I guess they are just part of living here. So, last year, being the nature-loving person that I am, I had words with God. I had come across some of these teeny tiny snakes in my yard and researched them to find out that they are bug eaters who get no bigger than earth worms. Rough Earth Snakes, they’re called. And I told God that I thought I could make peace with these rough earth snakes if he would keep the big, I’m-gonna-die-by-seeing-one-because-I’ll-trip-having-a-convulsionary-reaction kind of snakes out of my yard. We made a deal. 🙂

So…when I saw that snake, y’all I swear to you…I picked the darn thing up! I mean, I had leather rose bush trimming gloves that went up to my elbows, but I PICKED. IT. UP.

It was funny though, I was yelling at my kids to come and look and I was so proud of this moment, but I noticed that when I picked up either leg, I was shaking! I was a complete ball of nerves. I was shaking so hard I really thought my knees would buckle. In my head, I was proud and excited, but my body was trembling and fearful and wanted to run. The only way to control the shaking was to keep my feet planted on the ground.

Psalm 16:8 says, “I have set the LORD always before me; because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.”

These are uncertain times. We can feel anxious about things that are unknown and known. I want to encourge you today to do 3 things:

1. Set your mind. Be steadfast and resolved. Make up your mind that tough stuff may be before you, but you will push through it. You will keep your mind focused on the tasks at hand and take them as they come.

2. Set your heart. Find a centered place of peace within your soul and feed that space. Be good to you. Take time to relax and refresh even though things are a bit chaotic.

3. Set your feet. Fight or flight is real. And let’s be honest, when we’re dealing with uncertainty and things we cannot see, everything within us feels like running. But when you plant your feet firmly on something solid, and stable, and unchanging, and certian, you can build your strength and determination to withstand.

God is your firm foundation and will keep your feet from shaking. Set the Lord before you and stand on what you know about Him. You may feel shakey even still, but He will make you unshakable.

P.S.👇👇😳

Love, jewels.

Hangin’ Tough

Life. Is. Hard. Let’s be honest, there is nothing fun about pain, heartache, struggles, or challenging circumstances. Nobody wakes up in the morning hoping that the bottom is going to fall out. And when things are most difficult, I find myself looking at the lives of others’ that seem much more attractive than my own. Or I feel disappointed that I haven’t gotten where I’d hoped to be when it seems like everyone else has.

But no matter how green someone’s pasture may be, it didn’t get that way by sunshine and pixie dust. I mean, sunshine is important, but so is rain.

…And so is a good tractor.
…And a good hoe.
…And sun up till sundown, backbreaking sweat and tears.

Work like that is difficult and the last time I checked, Tinkerbell isn’t hanging out in my neighborhood making all things sparkly and beautiful. Yet everyone that I know and love and respect has experienced their share of heartache. Every person has looked tragedy in the face. Every person has had their own insurmountable obstacles in their path. Every. Single. One.

But it is how those difficult situations were worked through that makes people who they are. And even though suffering sucks and none of us want it, the grit that is developed from working through our stuff is actually a vital and integral part of productive and healthy lives.

Sadly, when we go through trials, we are quick to throw ourselves a pity party and look at the blessings and abundance of others without recognizing that those with the greenest pastures likely ploughed through the most manure, if you catch my drift. It’s the tough stuff that builds that abundance. It is the muck and mire that makes us a life that is beautiful. It’s the desperation of our troubles that will sow within us the greatest seasons of growth.

I see you, my friend. I see those parched and dry gardens from a seemingly never-ending drought and the fields that have been trashed by one too many storms. I see the weight of life’s circumstances weighing heavy on your back. I see the disappointment from yet another season of struggle and sadness from things not as you expect. I also see your grit.

Hang tough. Work it out. You have to work it out in order for it to work on you. So grab ahold of it. Wrestle with it. Use your resources and walk through it.

Draw closer to God the Father and as you lean into His Word and His strength, He will build something incredible from your brokeness.

-jewels

the miracle of the moment.

I have a wandering mind. Can anyone else relate? At any given moment, I have at least a dozen thoughts vying for my attention. And my mind…well, it feels manic, mostly. There are days when I am so lucid. Really. I mean, I can actually have an adult conversation that lasts longer than 20 seconds and really feel big-time smart when we’ve finished. Big. Time. But those days, those moments, are sparse. Maybe all it takes to change that, though, is just a moment.

Sometimes I think that my mind gets so scattered and unorganized because of all the things I want to say or want to do that get put off because I tell myself I don’t have the time to do it right. For me, my desire to make sure I have it just right can take me out of the treasure of the moment into the strain of the of-so-perfect “later” when it really just never gets said or done.

So here I am sitting, on the eve of the first Monday of 2020 deciding to take a moment. Just a moment to reflect on the day, pray, write, and encourge. As many of you, I have looked towards what is ahead for the months to come and I am looking at ways to improve and grow from what I have learned in the months past. I am reminded of how often I have prayed for things to come, but how easily I have been distracted from the paths that the Lord has laid out to accomplish those goals.

The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps. -Proverbs 16:9

Even as I am writing this, I am struggling with feeling that I haven’t said really what I meant to say. But when I lean into the Lord, I am reminded that right now, this is just about being present and surrendered to the moment so that He can start something in me and through me.

So friends, be encouraged to be present. Be encouraged to take a moment. Say what’s on your heart. Accomplish that task. Take something off the backburner. And watch what can happen as all those purposeful moments add up to meaningful steps towards your goals.

-jewels

amazing grace

I’ve been sitting on a blog for about 3 years entitled, “Why Christians are the Absolute Worst.” Every time I was sure I wanted to post it, I lost my nerve.

How will so-and-so take it? Will I harm the body of Christ more than help it? Am I venting or is this something that needs to be said?

I haven’t lost my nerve because I am afraid of the message of that post or that it’s not true. Every time I walked away from it because, quite frankly, I’m not sure my writing and my words can do the message justice. It needs to be said…I just don’t think that I have a voice powerful enough to adequately convey it.

I have watched from the sidelines as Christians use their power and position to make people feel small and unworthy. I have grieved as I have witnessed those with supposed spiritual superiority bully and manipulate those around them. I have been hurt by pride and arrogance being veiled with Christian lingo and “divine revelation” to the point where I wondered if anyone at all was genuine or had any shred of humanity or humility. I have experienced all of this in the safe confines of my Christian bubble. And if I’m honest, I’ve also done it all.

I have used scripture to trump arguments to be supremely right. I have made others feel less-than. I have judged SO deeply. I have questioned the qualifications of those I thought didn’t fit the bill. And worse.

So we Christians…we are the worst. And when those around us fall, we don’t extend the hand of mercy that was graciously and generously extended to us. Even worse, when we fall, we don’t live like those who have experienced profound and remarkable grace.

But today I was reminded that God’s grace is so much bigger than our failures. I was geeking-out to hear a message from the author of a book that changed my world several years ago, Jesus + Nothing = Everything. That author is Tullian Tchividjian. He was visiting our church. If you don’t know who he is, google him. If you do know who he is, you probably have an opinion. Bottom line, he has had one heck of a spectacular fall, so to speak.

During his message, he said something like,

“Every time I tell my own story of adultery and divorce, I’m less nervous telling a non-Christian than I am a Christian — they tend to be less shocked by sin and more surprised by grace.”

It was a statement that had an all-too-familiar ring to it.

We’re all going to blow it. It’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when. But the good news is that we are not defined by our screw-ups any more than we are defined by our successes. The reason we Christians are the worst is that we forget this simple truth. It’s not what we do, it’s what He did.

I don’t have a lot of spiritual clout. I don’t pretend to have it all figured out. But my prayer is that God’s grace and the work of the cross so impacts every fiber of my heart and mind and soul that my only response in return is love and kindness and grace to those around me. The Gospel is hope for the sinner. The Gospel is hope for the Christian.

Wreck me, Lord. May I be a life-giver. May my life be a reflection of your grace poured in me.

jewels

Read more about Tullian Tchividjian and his ministry at www.tullian.net

what doesn’t kill you…

There is a poster on the wall going into the fieldhouse where I work. It says,

“Pain is only weakness leaving the body.”

I had to pass by it a few times before I really stopped to think about it. I get it. It’s an inspirational quote about enduring pain in order to bring about our strength. And it got me thinking about pain on a bigger level. I started to think about what pain was and wasn’t. And ultimately about personal pain.

pain

/pān/

  1. physical suffering or discomfort caused by illness or injury.

There is something very interesting about pain. What’s interesting is that it’s not the thing. What I mean is that we give pain a lot of focus and attention, but pain is really just a sign of something else.

…It is a signal that something is wrong.

…That a system is failing.

…That there is a malfunction of some sort and it is sending out a distress notice

And for the pain-in-the-butt that it is to deal with, it actually is a helper…without it, we most often would never know there is a problem.

The Kill

But we avoid pain at all cost. In fact, as a culture, we’re obsessed with feeling good and living pain-free. We want all gain, no pain. In truth, and if we’re honest, we can be so single-minded in pursuit of a painless life, that we let it affect our faith as well.

I know personally this has been true for me. I have been walking through a very difficult and painful season. And my first and consistent response has been to kill the pain. Smother it. Move past it. Ignore it. Numb it away.

The result? Not the intended “ridding myself” of the pain, but instead a fair amount of bitterness that the discomfort kept returning…and each time worse than the time before. I have been overcome with feelings of frustration at swallowing the bitter pills of avoidance only to watch it return. And each time without taking a closer look at what was causing it.

Breaking Through

Remember, pain reveals. It points to and exposes. And sometimes it takes a very painful experience or set of experiences to expose a very deep wound or very deeply protected problem. Most often it’s those deepest, hidden issues that keep us from moving forward.

But here is what I found.

What I have found is that I had to experience great pain in order to experience a breakthough. Because sometimes it’s the punch that knocks you out that finally shatters the wall that has been holding you back.

That’s not what I wanted. I don’t think that any of us set out looking for a knock-out punch to land us on our behinds. But sometimes we need to actually feel a pain so deep that we can finally be broken and open enough to see what’s going on deep beneath the surface and deal with it.

God in Brokenness

I have heard it said that in God’s economy, the way up is down. What God is teaching me through my own brokenness it that it is necessary to endure the grave if we are to fully realize the resurrection.

You and I will never experience revival in our lives until we first open up to Him in our brokenness. That is the heart of what we read about in the book of James:

Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Be wretched and mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you (James 4:8–10).

This is not a message that we are usually excited about hearing. Instead of removing pain, we are told to take it on.

I thought my problem was that I was sad and depressed and needed to find my happy place again. But what I am learning is that I had been living for a long time in a place of self-exaltation and I was desperately in need of some humility and a new reliance upon Him.

My heart has been so broken, but it is through this that I have begun to experience a new awakening of my soul.

My brokenness became the shattering of my self-will and the complete surrender of my will to the will of God. My brokenness began the process of undoing the self-reliance I had been clinging to and correcting my posture before God. And as the walls of control came down and I began to be broken over my pride, I met God in a whole new way. It was only then that my strength of faith began to return and the pain began to ease.

Is anyone else walking through a painful season? It is not an easy one. But my prayer is that I can learn to embrace the painful seasons as necessary to break down strongholds in my life. Just as the way up is down, the way to strength is brokenness. So even now, Lord break me even more.

-jewels

it’s who you know.

I am sitting here, in my living room, listening to the symphony playing throughout the house. It is beautiful music. Sweet and deep. But the music is lost on me. As my family plays their nighttime symphony (read: snoring) I am sitting here awake with my thoughts.

My thoughts today have been consumed with a season of great personal frustration. I mean, I don’t know how else to say it, but I am just frustrated. And sad. And annoyed. But mostly frustrated. There is too much to this personal narrative. Far too much to put into words at 2:15 am, but it all rounds out with one big word: REJECTION.

For some context, over the past 8 months, I have submitted over 30 applications for jobs, had 3 interviews, and have received at least 10 letters of rejection. Apparently I don’t have the right credentials, the right experience, or know the right person. So this is, on the surface, about the overwhelming frustration I am experiencing from not being able to

GET A STINKING JOB!!!!!!!

Sorry I yelled at you. That wasn’t very nice.

But this is also tangled up in deeper stuff of moving halfway across the country, leaving our family and friends, feeling out of place, and still not having a community. So the feeling that seeps down is rejection.

I have never found that word to be so real. Of course I have experienced rejection, but it typically has a way of not making it past my top layer. I can remember so many times of feeling rejected from one thing or another. And there were tears. A great many deep sobs and snotty noses. So don’t get me wrong, I have experienced rejection. But those tears always served to bathe away the residue of those experiences and push me towards what was next.

But what I am walking through right now is so very different. This journey has pushed itself into a much deeper place than I have ever felt it before. My tears have lost their cleansing properties and the rejection seems to have taken up residence in my soul. I want it out.

Tonight as I was laying in bed trying to find sleep and ruminating on all of this junk, these words came softly to mind:

I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth…

Those are the first verses to a chapter in the Bible, Psalm 121, memorized long ago. The chapter is a song of inspiration and motivation and reminder of God’s provision and protection. But something stood out to me as the words came to me. It’s easy to say things to myself or to others who are experiencing difficult stuff like, “God holds the future,” or “God will take care of us,” or “God will help you through it.” And the focus is always on what God will do.

But what is really striking, when I get right down to it, is that I know God. I know God. And more than that, I am not rejected by Him. I lift my eyes to Him and He sees me.

That sounds so cliché and simple and completely church-y to say. But it is a profound reminder to my aching soul that I am connected to the All Powerful. To the Creator of Everything. To the One who holds the stars. And that doesn’t give me a sense that He is going to fix it all or do anything for me. That’s what’s so incredible about this.

I think we always look to God as some genie who’s going to work it out for us. But tonight, I am making no assertion. I don’t believe that having bigger faith or bigger prayers will get me where I am trying to be in the job world. Nor do I believe that calling out to Him is going to magically make friends appear on my doorstep with casseroles and a ready made girls’ night. I just don’t think that’s how it works.

But in simply remembering that I know Him, I am suddenly feeling peace bathe and soothe the sting of rejection. I am connected to the Lord, who made Heaven and Earth. So while my mind struggles through the frustration that is plaguing me in this season, I will put my soul to rest, and hopefully find sleep tonight, with 2 things:

…a reminder that the Lord sees me and knows me….

…and the sounds of my beautiful blessings playing their symphony.

-Jewels