PUSH

How many of you actually like being pushed into something that is unknown, uncomfortable, new and unfamiliar?  Does the thought of that alone get your heart racing and palms sweating? 

I can tell you it does for me.  Every single time, as far back as I can remember, when I am pushed to do something unfamiliar I stubbornly dig my heels in and begin to list all of the reasons why “I cannot”, “I hate it”, “I do not want to” or even “I won’t survive”.

Now I want you to close your eyes for a minute and look back on all of those times someone, a parent, friend, life circumstance or God, pushed you into the unfamiliar.  How often did you come out RIGHT?  Right about not being able to, hating it, or being less than the person beforehand?

I am sure some of you are carrying around scars from your past from experiences you did not ask for, invite in and were certainly pushed on you.  Catastrophic events that were life altering.  Those warrant a whole other conversation, one much deeper and probably deserving of length way longer than a blog entry.

I am talking about the times in your life when your mom signed you up for camp and you cried and screamed and refused to go.  With a firm denial of your request she ignored your cries, packed your bags, and lovingly kissed you good-bye as she dropped you off.  And it was one of the best experiences of your life (not that you would have ever told her that!).

Or the time, in middle school, when the high school basketball coach scouted you out in the hallway because you stood a head above the other girls and asked if you wanted to play basketball.  You were quick to deny being an athlete and said you did not, could not and would not.  But when your parents got wind of this they encouraged you.  They pushed you and would not take your excuses and signed you up.  And you began to like it, sometimes love it!  It opened up doors for you you had convinced yourself would never be there.  You were an athlete.  You voluntarily signed up for other sports in high school and physical fitness became part of your life.  Your confidence soared.  You expanded your horizons!  You benefited in ways you could not imagine had you turned away completely and refused the push.

That happened to me when I was an awkward thirteen year old convinced I was not an athlete and determined to hunch my too tall body down enough that I would become invisible in school.   When I think back to what my high school years would have been like had I not found a place to belong, a love for physical fitness, I am so grateful to that basketball coach who had the guts and foresight to push. 

As a parent I find myself constantly in the battle with my children, especially my very stubborn, very cautious, very reserved eldest, in figuring out just when do I PUSH and when do I step back.  When do I tell them “piano is not a choice” because I see talent that could flourish with exposure?  When do I tell them “you will go to youth group” even when they know nobody (yet) and are so painfully shy but I know that being part of a youth group at my church growing up was one of the most transformative experiences of my youth?  When do I let go of my fearful, anxiety-ridden child who declares they do not need to learn to swim and let their bodies do the work before the mind takes over because swimming is a life skill we all should have?  ((sigh)) My list could go on and on. 

Being a parent, wrestling with whether to push my children into experiences or hold back, I think a lot about who pushes me, now that I am an adult and my parents are released from the stress of raising me.  It is my Heavenly Father who does all of the pushing.  He actually always has. Prayerfully my parents turned to Him for guidance in the “parenting pushing” of my youth, as I do today as a parent to three young children. 

When I listen carefully enough, I hear Him guiding me, leading me, encouraging me.  When I am too stubborn to listen and the voices in my head scream, “I can’t” “I won’t” “I’ll fail” my Father does what HE knows best.  He gives me a loving yet very firm PUSH. 

Oh, I kick and I scream and I cry.  Being outside of my comfort zone is downright UNCOMFORTABLE!  And I am sure my Father is not up there smiling, enjoying the scene I am making down below.  Sometimes it hurts His heart to see me feel that way, just like it hurts mine to see my own children struggle, fear, cry and wobble on unsteady feet. 

With each passing day as a parent I feel closer to my Heavenly Father and more grateful for His work as a parent to all of creation.  He made us.  He knit us in our mother’s womb and created our inmost being (Psalm 139:13).

My children are too young to see that my pushing comes from a place of love and also of faith.  There is a lot of prayer behind the decisions I make and the tough love choices.  I see something in my children that they do not and I just want the best for them.

As an adult mature enough to recognize this, the next time I am pushed outside of my comfort zone into unknown, scary or unwanted territory, will I recognize who did the pushing and trust and rely on my Heavenly Father to guide, care for and grow me?

Tripped Up

Exodus 33:14  The Lord replied, “My Presence will go with you, 

and I will give you rest.”

Why does it seem that as soon as life is going smooth, you hit a bump in the road?!  Sometimes it is just a pebble in the path and you fall dead smack on your face, enough to trip you up, leaving you in tears and afraid.  Other times the bump completely detours the entire direction you thought you were going.

Last summer I was on a beautiful early morning run while vacationing with my family and friends at a camp in New Hampshire.  The air was that perfect blend of invigorating chill that awakens your senses and motivates your body to move just a touch faster to warm itself.  Loving greeting the new day with the birds, watching the steam rise up off of the lake, as the sun slowly coerced all to awaken, I could not have been more at peace.  The sun was rising up above the lake and I could literally SMELL God's beauty in the day ahead.  

My husband and I were running together, a rarity in and of itself, and were deep in conversation.  My feet were moving as if on autopilot and we were almost to the main lodge where we could smell our breakfast cooking.  I was feeling good!   And then, out of nowhere I tripped and fell right onto my bad knee.  

The pain that seared through my hands as they smacked the ground brought tears to my eyes and I just lay there, screaming, in shock that my blissful morning run was so abruptly and painfully interrupted.  All I could think about was how my day was ruined, my knee was going to swell, I was going to be unable to enjoy the rest of my vacation, and on and on the worries came.  

As my mind ran away with every bit of fear and worry it could find to cling to, my body started to absorb the rude smack of the pavement and the sting in my hands started to become bearable enough to move. I inched myself off of the road, testing out my knee to see just how bad it really was.  Ever so slowly I got onto my feet, gained my composure and pushed through the pain, attempting to walk. But I knew that despite how I was feeling I had to get up.  I had to push through and keep moving on.  I was driven to turn this one over to the Lord, for sitting on a remote dirt road, crying and wishing the pain would just disappear was just simply not working.

So with my husband's help I hobbled my way back to the lodge, praying the entire way for God to take over.  What was done was done and all I could do was ice and rest it.  God had this, as He does everything else in my life.  Every fall, every bump, every trip; He has it.

Falling on a run that is going seamless is analogous for how we so often get tripped up on the road of life.  The falls, the bruises, the pain, the anxiety; they all seem to come literally out of nowhere.  There are days when, for the life of me, I cannot even figure out just WHY I am tripped up!

Yet every time I do get tripped up, whether it be in big ways or small, I am driven to my knees.  I am helpless, defenseless and broken.  I am at the mercy of life and all I can do is cry out to God, the one who has it all in His hands.  It is into His arms I run and there that I am whole, healed, unbroken. 

Today I had lunch with some ladies after my weekly Bible Study Fellowship class.  One of the women is living with an incurable form of cancer and has certainly had her share of "trip ups" in the past few years alone.  Yet she said to me that she is now able to see it as a blessing.  If she had not been so broken, so helpless, she would not have even slowed down enough to form the friendships she had, friendships that led her to being open to God's presence in His word, even in doing something like a weekly Bible study with BSF!  She would never have known just who held her life.  I was in awe.  

What if we were to take a whole other perspective on these “trip ups” in life?  What if we were to see them not as falls that set us back, but falls that propel us into the arms of the One who is with us, no matter what? 

When I fall and am driven into His arms, His grace and mercy flood me with the assurance that I am not alone.  His love washes over me and I am reminded that through the pain, bumps, and bruises of this life, He is there.  He is my salve, my ice pack for the pain, my rock.  

Would I know that if I never got tripped up?  Would I even turn to Him?  Something tells me not.  I am a stubborn, pig headed soul who is drawn to control.  But those trip-ups, they are my God’s gift to me. His constant reminders that He is the one to give me rest; He is my peace. 

I am COMING OUT....

I am Coming OUT….

Last week was National Coming-Out Day.  It hit me that "coming out of the closet" is really a term used for people finally able to shed their facade and be HONEST with others about who they really are.  I want to be very clear, before I continue with my thoughts, that I am NOT coming out in the traditional sense...I am still very happily married to my husband of 15 years. Mine is a more of a spiritual 'coming out'.

I also do not want to downplay or even begin to assume that I understand the magnitude of hiding your sexuality from others and the difficulty and strength it takes to 'come out of the closet' in the traditional sense.  I have the utmost admiration for those that DO take that step and am so proud of you! This blog entry is one inspired by those that have taken a very public and brave step to reveal themselves.  YOU all inspire ME.

As humans we have a natural reaction to defend our true identity in fear that exposing it will make us more vulnerable.  And in many ways, exposing ourselves DOES make us more vulnerable.  Some people will judge, some will throw stones, some will act out their hate.  All in reaction to their own insecurities that keep them from revealing their true identities to the world.  Fear overcomes us.

Today I am coming out.  With trembling hands and a racing heart, with fear of judgement and ridicule, I am stepping out in faith that by revealing to others who I am I will have MORE of a profound affect on lives than if I hide and stay in my comfort zone.

So here it goes, my revelation of all that I am and much of which I hide in fear of being vulnerable and judged.  But no more, for my true self-worth is not in this world but in He who created me.  For greatness.

I love my life.  I really LOVE my life!  Somewhere in the shift between childhood into adulthood I adapted this notion that you must downplay what you are doing, your love for what you do, and constantly be striving for more.  I mistakenly thought that complaining about where I was or what I was doing would protect me, just in case someone disagreed with what I was doing or what I loved.  Total insecurity played out on my part.  I continued to think if I DID more.  And more.  And MORE that my actions would justify my choices to be a homemaker, to not utilize my masters degree in the professional world, to really actually LOVE caring for my family.  So I am laying it all out there and setting myself and others straight.  I LOVE my life.  I LOVE being a homemaker. I love that God has provided me with the opportunity to grow as a mother, a wife, a friend, a daughter, a sister, a chef, an artist, a gardener, a seamstress, an athlete, a writer, a child of God, and so much more.  I am ten years into this role as a homemaker and mother and each day brings me new opportunities, shows me new possibilities that I never even new existed, and opens up new doors.  I am finally, finally at a place where I am taking a stand to stop striving to DO more and am striving to LIVE more in each day.  I am ready to stop getting my affirmation from other people so that I can feel, temporarily, "good enough" because living that way has left me never feeling "good enough". 

In Matthew 3:17 God spoke directly to Jesus after he had been baptized and said, "This is My Beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased."   Knowing that I AM GOD'S BELOVED is ENOUGH.  I am whole only when I do for God's eyes alone and stop trying to live for the affirmation of others, compromising who I really am.  Living life in the closet.

So here I am, a whole woman, vowing that today I am coming out.  No more apologies for who I am, no more striving to be who I am not.  I am laying it all out; in my imperfectness, my brokeness, my fears, I am made whole by the one who created me.  For greatness.

**And for those of you who are blog readers, stay tuned because I am also vowing that I will no longer be holding back in sharing my writing!  I LOVE writing and I will push through my fears of sharing it and let it all COME OUT!

Hope

I have been thinking a lot about what hope actually means and how to integrate it into my life.  A month ago my youngest sister's 20 month old son unexpectedly passed away while taking a nap.  Carter had contracted a rare virus at 6 days of age that caused global brain damage.  The doctors, at the time, offered little to no hope that Carter would even live, let alone live a life with any value.  At the time, while that little baby was still in PICU and on life support, they suggested to my sister and brother-in-law that they take him off of life support, extinguishing any and all hope for Carter.  Matt and Emily prayed that God make that decision for them, for that was not a decision they could ever make on their own.  Within two days Carter miraculously started to show signs of improvement; hope of life!  He came off life support ON HIS OWN!  At that point, the doctors still offered little hope that he would ever eat without a feeding tube, breathe without oxygen, see or hear.  Again, within days Carter proved them all wrong as we all prayed that God define Carter's life, not man.  For 20 months Carter defied all expectations for life set by doctors and specialists.  He nursed again at 2 month, came off a feeding tube and ate baby food with a spoon, laughed, smiled, picked up his head, rolled and lived a life filled with joy.  It was a life lived without expectation, just plain hope.  God defined the parameters of Carter's life, not man.  And through this little boy, we all began to see God Himself.  In Matthew 18:3 Jesus says, "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven."  For the first time in my life, I understood what Jesus meant by this.  Life is not to be lived with expectations set by us, parameters drawn by man, but lived as a child.  A child filled with pure joy, accepting all that comes their way with open hearts and minds.  

As I watch my own children grieve Carter's death, I am in awe.  They do not carry the heavy burden of expectations for life that we do as adults.  The rejoice in his life, sweetly cry as they remember him and miss him, but are so excited that he is with Jesus.  They believe, without doubt, that God took him to be with Jesus because it was his time and today, he is laughing with Jesus in Heaven, and why should we be sad about that?

I am still processing all that I have learned from Carter's 20 months of life.  I think the lessons will continue to come, and with each one, I receive a deeper understanding of what hope really means.  There is one lesson that  I learned very early on in Carter's life.  The day we all gathered in his little PICU room in August 2010 and prayed that God make the decision for us, hope entered that room.  I experienced, for the first time in my life, the peace that surpasses all understanding as I placed my hope in Christ alone.  

I would like to share with you something that I wrote on the long plane-ride back from CA a few weeks ago, as we brought my sister and her little family back to the East coast for Carter's funeral and memorial.  The word "hope" was resonating with me so loudly that I pulled out my I Pad and wrote what was on my mind and heart.

Hope

The word hope alone resonates with such assurances and comfort.  But when it is all you have left to cling to, it becomes a life ring, so difficult to hold onto as the waves keep crashing down, loosening your grip, knocking you under, leaving you gasping for air.  You cling to the ring with faith that it will keep you afloat, for what other choice do you have?  Yet exhaustion seeps in, over and over. When will the storms calm, the waters still and the rescue come?  You cry out for help, over and over, trying to believe you are heard by the One who sees all, the One who is our Hope.

In no way can I say that keeping my Hope alive is easy.  It is quite the opposite.  My faith is often one of the hardest choices I make each and every day.  In the eye of the storms of this life, as I gasp for air and feel my life ring slipping away, it is then that my Lord tightens His grip, gently securing me in Hope; Hope that I am never alone, that He will not fore-sake me, that despite the value I place in the things of this world, I am not OF this world.  He reminds me that HE is all I need and that in His grip I will not drown.  He quenches my thirst with His peace that surpasses all understanding, just as I feel dehydration sinking in.  He brings laughter just as the tears begin to flood my vision.  He brings joy in the present, allowing the weight of the past and future to escape me for that moment.  

He is my Hope.  The One who can calm the raging seas around me, keeping me safe, in His arms, safe and afloat.  Oh my Lord, tighten Your grasp, keep me secure in the life ring, carry me through these storms.  Grow me my Lord.  Make me your servant, strengthen my faith, keep my Hope alive.  Amen.

It was Carter's passing that finally pushed me to start this blog, a blog I had been talking about writing for a long time.  Too many of us wander this life without hope, without knowing where to place our hope.  This is my attempt to share with you where that hope can be found, in Jesus Christ alone.  I am praying for all of you who read this.  Please share my blog and share with me your stories and HOPE.  

Jesus said, " I am the Way the Truth and the life; no man cometh unto the Father, 

but by me." 

 John 14:6

God bless you,

Jen

Taking a Leap

I am doing it, finally.  Blogging.  Putting my thoughts and words "out there" for more to read other than my very close friends and family.  I don't know whether I should thank my cheer team, who have not ceased to encourage me to WRITE, or curse them.  But more than those telling me to get this going already, I cannot deny God's nudges, whispers, and SHOUTS to put it all out there; let the world know who I am and what drives, fuels and sustains me.


For those of you who don't know me, I look forward to getting to know you through this odd cyber world that defines so many relationships in this modern age.  For those of you who do, well, you already know that I am an all over the place, passionate, sometimes scatter-brained, laugh one minute, cry the next type of a gal, so you will follow along with this blog and get some extra insight into those crazy ups and downs of the life of Jen! And hey, you were the ones who told me to do this in the first place, so here we go!


Life is not easy.  It is downright painful at times.  In the past few years I have had more moments when I want to RUN away, yet I never could figure out where to run to, so instead I stick around and keep on keeping on.         In doing that, I have discovered a depth to life that I never thought I could experience.  I feel more than I have ever felt.  With intense sadness also comes intense joy, yet it takes seeking that joy out.  Trusting in the promises God has made to reveal our joy in Him.  Trusting that the tears will pass and laughter will come.  Trusting that my soul will grow through it all.  


For tonight, I will end there.  My stories to share will piece it all together, one at a time.  And thrown in, you may even get some random recipes, crafting or gardening tips.  It's what us girls do; tell our stories, share our secrets, cry together and laugh together,  making this life a little easier to bear and enjoy.  Praise God for it all.