Be the Friend Who Takes Them to Jesus

Friendships are tricky. I have found there are all manor of friends in one lifetime, and it can be a struggle to recognize and hold onto the good ones because we’re all flawed and prone to misguided thinking and actions on even our best days. And there’s so many types of friends!

The I’ll-drop-everything-when-you-call friend

The Never-replies-to-group-texts friend

The friend you have on speed dial for impromptu life events when you must talk to someone now

The friend who’s your best friend today then only wants to talk about the weather tomorrow

The Let’s-talk-about-Jesus-and-all-the-deep-things-of-your-heart friend

The fun friend who just wants to laugh and have a good time

The friend who asks about you and the friend who just talks about them

The friend who shows up to do life with you and hang and be present

The I-can-help-with-your-projects friend

The I-will-keep-and-love-your-kids-like-my-own friend

The chit-chatty surface friend and the friend you feel safe to cry with

The ones where your husbands get along but not the kids and vice versa

The friend with unlimited availability and the one who never seems to be available

The Gift-Giver, the Encouraging Texter, the Exercise Buddy, the Impromptu Luncher, the Early Birds and Night Owls

I could go on and on and on. Friends come in all shapes and sizes. They come with their own unique backgrounds and personal boundaries and beliefs about life. Most of us are a combination of all these types of friends and more. Not one friend fits into any mold.

I used to think I always wanted one best friend. I’ve envied everyone in my life who’s ever used that term about one person. I searched and kept my eyes open my entire life for my person. Even after I got married, I kept looking for that soul-mate friend—the Christina Yang to my Meredith Grey, the Huck Finn to my Tom Sawyer, Copper the Hound to my Todd the Fox. Best fwiends forever. It obviously exists, right? People write about it, make movies and television shows about it. I know people that have posted pictures with friends from the time they were babies, friends for life.

I’m not saying having one best friend is an urban legend, an unrealistic goal like fairytale lives and endings, but in my experience, it has not been a reality. Probably because my expectations have always been unreasonably high and unrealistic. That’s on me. But more importantly, I’m not convinced that’s what the Lord wants for my life. I think the pursuit of one best friend is a lie I’ve been chasing, and I’m ready to quit.

Jesus didn’t have just one friend. He had three closest ones in Peter, James, and John (Matthew 5:37, 17, 26:37), then nine more closer ones in other disciples, then how many women that went unaccounted whom He considered friends? He called Lazarus His friend. How many others did He consider friend that go unlisted in scripture? The only person Jesus had a need to be alone with was His Father. The only Person I should have a need to connect with is my Abba Father and my husband. Everyone and anyone else are a bonus gift in the body of Christ.

As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another (Proverbs 27:17). Encourage one another daily (Hebrews 3:13). Don’t give up meeting together (Hebrews 10:25). We are all members of one body (1 Corinthians 12). The Bible is clear about our role in community with others. Friends are essential to life, but for me, my one Best Friend should be Jesus then my husband. Life gets all out of balance when I try to put someone else in that role.

So instead of one best friend, I’ve started evaluating for Peters, Jameses, and Johns instead. If I’m the paralytic on the mat, who are the four people that are going to cut a hole in the roof to lower me into the presence of Jesus (Mark 2:4)? Those are the people who I am vulnerable with even if they aren’t always vulnerable with me. Those are the people I trust with my broken heart and disappointments even if they choose someone else for theirs. God knows our needs, and He puts different people in different people’s lives to meet those needs. That’s a grace and a gift and a good thing.

Reciprocity is a worldly requirement for friendship, not a godly one. The Lord knows, He’s my Best Friend whether I treat Him like He’s mine or not! If reciprocity were a requirement of our relationship, I’d fail constantly, yet He still calls me His friend (John 15:15). Unbelievable grace. If God can continue to call me friend after I fail Him daily, can I not also extend grace to others for their shortcomings and irritable quirks?

Friendship works best when it’s a two-way street because that’s what feels good. True friendship works even when one side of the street has shut down. Peter denied Christ three times after all (Luke 22:54), but what a sweet restoration on the shore of the beach after Christ’s resurrection (John 21). Peter denied his friendship because he was overcome with fear. I wonder what demons your friends might be battling in this season of life. I wonder if they just need to be loved for who they are now and restored for who they could be in the future. What if we all chose to see the best in the ones who have hurt us the deepest?

I don’t know. This journey toward healthy friendships continues to be an adventure that I study and process and ponder. I’m trying to examine the motives of my own heart before I begin to even speculate about the motives of others. Better yet, I’m learning to just ask questions and clarify motives before jumping to conclusions. I’m trying to become the friend who will cut a hole in the roof and lower you to Jesus whether you’d do the same for me or not because there’s great joy in taking others to Jesus and watching Jesus do what only He can do in their lives.

 

Grateful to be His,

Jennifer Durham

Cause for a Jubilee

Jubilee. It’s the word that keeps coming to mind as seven years of reflecting on loss rolls around. At first, I thought I remembered the seventh year was the Year of Jubilee in the Old Testament. Turns out it’s seven years of seven, so the end of the 49^th year or the beginning of the 50^{th (}Leviticus 25:8-10). Nevertheless, jubilee is the odd word that keeps sticking when I reflect on seven years without Savannah Veale. Seven years of processing the grief of her untimely death and the hole in my life left behind. Seven years of feeling like a completely different person because she died. Seven years of difficult mind and soul work to understand what life means to me now.

And God gives me the word jubilee. Such an odd word. An uncommon word to associate with the anniversary of a death. Yet, it is a word that means the celebration of an anniversary. It is a word that represents the ideas of emancipation and restoration.

To say I feel emancipated and restored from the experience of her death feels wrong. Very wrong. It feels like I am betraying her memory. Afterall, part of grief is the inability to express felt love. Yet, here I sit this seventh year, not crying, not depressed. All God keeps whispering is, “Jubilee.”

Maybe it is through the years of processing, the swimming pools of tears cried, the angry words screamed and prayed, and all the unanswered questions that God works to bring emancipation and restoration.

Maybe every blog written in pain, every therapy session overflowing with snotty tissues, and every word penned in public or private was actually the treatment my heart needed all along. To express pain and be heard by someone, even if it was only God, was the very medicine my heart needed to finally feel free again, to feel more whole this year than last. It’s taken me seven years to get here and be at peace, to experience jubilee on this day instead of despair. It may take others seventy.

I wholeheartedly agree, time doesn’t heal all wounds, but it does offer the gift of perspective. A perspective I have now, seven years later with her gone, that I would not have had had she stayed.  This does not mean I don’t miss her or even that I’m grateful she died. I can’t hardly even swallow those words, much less type them.

But I am grateful that my Jesus has been gentle with me. He has been understanding and long suffering and never impatient. He has poured grace upon grace into my marriage, my friendships, my children, and all my life for seven years now. He has not forgotten her, and He’s allowed me to mourn her in my way in my time, all the while showing me His way in His time. He shifted my perspective over these seven years, not to see that He healed the wound, but to see what the wound has revealed about me and about Him.

Emancipated and restored people still walk around wounded, yet they also still experience the joy of jubilee. Grief does not cancel out joy. They are not mutually exclusive of each other. I think it’s taken seven years for me to accept this as truth. I am fully aware it may take others longer, and I may be in tears tomorrow. Both are ok. Jesus is gentle with you right where you are, always your best interest at the heart of His every intention.

So, on this jubilee, this seven-year anniversary, I am grateful for Jesus who never gave up on me even when I gave up on Him. I’m grateful He is the story I get to write. I don’t celebrate her death, but I will celebrate that I can testify a relationship with Jesus frees and restores. I have lived it for seven years. No one can take that knowledge and that experience from me. No one will ever convince me God isn’t good, and He doesn’t care. You just can’t.

My word of advice and encouragement for my brothers and sisters who still grieve, hard—Take it all to Jesus. All of it. All the anger, all the pain, all the questions, all the silence, all the waiting, all the panic, all the frantic—take all of it to Him. Wrestle with Him. Work out your salvation with fear and trembling (Philippians 2:12). He is mighty to save (Zephaniah 3:17). His ways are not our ways, but His intentions are nothing but for our good (Isaiah 55:8, Genesis 50:20). Will you make the choice to stay the course, to follow Jesus long enough and close enough in relationship to witness the good He intends?

Maybe that’s the celebration. Seven years today I can testify as a witness to the good He intended. I can stand as the oak tree in Isaiah 61:3 claiming all the promises to be found therein. If death and grief unearthed a reflection of God’s splendor hiding deep inside me, then His will be done, and all the glory is His. These seven years God has emancipated me unto Himself; He has restored me unto Himself in ways I did not know I needed to be freed, in ways I did not know I was lost. That is cause for a jubilee.

Seven years is a long time, forty-nine even longer. Christ has long suffered with and for His people since He first created us all and set time in motion. If He has not called it quits on us yet, can you not seek Him just one more hour of one more day? The jubilee is coming. I know this to be true.

Grateful to be His,

Jennifer Durham

Christmas Letter 2019

Dear Family & Friends,                                                                                                                                               

This has been the year of intention. Intention is defined as the determination to act in a certain way. In looking up the definition, I found that intention is also defined as the process or manner of healing of wounds. We have all experienced wounds and carry wounds in our daily lives. I’ve written about many of these in my own life over the years, but this year was full of intention—I just didn’t know until I sat down to write this letter that intention had anything to do with healing. This revelation puts 2019 in a whole new perspective.

We always try to make our travels intentional to explore and experience more of God in creation or to use the time away to invest in relationships with one another and others. This year included snowmobiling in Yellowstone, a mission trip to Mexico for me, Easter and Thanksgiving in GA, a summer vacay to Maui, Hume Lake summer camp for Savannah and me, a trip to Washington D.C. for Joey and Weston, and plenty of weekend camping with our framily. We realize the blessing of these memories, and I try so hard to tuck them away and treasure each one.

Weston turned 10 in August. He’s all boy. A growing, bright, active and sensitive boy. Through some early struggles in the year physically and emotionally, I’ve watched him choose to intentionally trust God more. We pray with purpose, and he is quick to recognize his need for prayer and ask for it. When we talk about the Lord, there’s a maturity to Weston’s understanding of God’s presence now that has built in him a strength he didn’t have before. He’s set his mind to learn and understand and put into practice what he learns. His diligent intentions can be seen in his grades, his conversations, his questions, on the soccer field and how he treats others.

Savannah turned 12 in October, but we have been in full preteen mode for quite some time. Our church promotes kids the beginning of June, so that’s when she officially entered the world of sixth grade and middle school. Natural consequences have become an all too common discussion in our home, yet I’ve watched her learn and grow with grace. We’ve always called her the baby whisperer, but it’s such a joy to watch the Lord use her talents with the children at church. She’s been intentional about not only volunteering at church but making sure she’s present and involved with activities in the middle school. She made the choice to switch sports this year as she started swim team in August. She seems to love this sport, and I’m encouraged by her positive attitude and willingness to take instruction and apply what she’s learned. The same is true for school. It’s been her own spiritual growth where she’s taken initiative that is the most endearing. She journals, does devotions, and even has a prayer wall set up in her room. These are not things we’ve required her to do, but how we’ve watched the Lord move with intention in her own heart. What a joy and blessing and answer to prayer.

Joey began the year with the goal of being intentional with our children by implementing Friday morning breakfast devotions with Dad. It’s just him and the kids every Friday morning discussing God’s Word over Chick-fil-A breakfast together. It’s nothing fancy, but it has become something they request, and while the chicken is a definite motivator, I think they really crave the time with their dad, and I’m so grateful Joey’s leading them toward their Heavenly Father at the same time. Joey has continued to be intentional with our marriage as he’s implemented “connect time” into our daily routine this year. This is just a time for the two of us to sit down across from each other with no distractions and talk, making sure we’re on the same page as we move forward emotionally, spiritually, and mentally in our daily lives. This practice is priceless for our marriage. As for work, I’m not sure I’ve met a more intentional teammate. He seeks to serve with excellence, and I believe the Lord continues to bless each of Joey’s intentions where work is concerned.

I began this year like every other year, but with the encouragement and wisdom of a dear friend, I set my mind to complete my first International distance triathlon. I could write a whole book on this intention, but it’s always been a personal goal to complete one before I turned forty, so I trained, and I sacrificed, and I completed the race. A half mile swim, 25 miles of biking, and 10K of running later I had crossed the finish line in 2 hours and 29 seconds, beating my personal goal of finishing in under 2hr30min. (Ha!) It was a purpose-filled journey. When you intentionally choose to do something difficult, the how and when of God’s presence lights up like a neon sign.

After Joey and I completed his first sprint triathlon together the end of September, God’s plans for me shifted drastically. It became abundantly clear to me through His Word that I was to be intentional with my time and how I chose to spend it and who I chose to spend it with. Mostly, the Lord’s been calling me to Himself. My days are not as full as years past because I felt the Lord call me out of several ministries. My days have slowed as every hour I find myself stopping to seek the Lord’s direction on how He would have me use my time. I’ve always felt the call to write but disciplining myself to use my time to write is another act of obedience altogether.

Yet the healing that has taken place in my heart and mind and soul over this past year (ongoing healing from depression, anxiety, and the wounds of grief from the past decade) is undeniable and must be completely accredited to my Jesus and His patience with me, His faithfulness to never leave me, never forsake me, and never give up on me. Mentally, I am healthier than I’ve been for almost six years. Physically, well, can’t we all do better? (Ha!) But the difference now is I know what to do and how to do it to keep myself from derailing. Spiritually, God has opened my eyes to the practice of intentional thanksgiving, and it’s currently blowing up my perspective on how to approach this one life we are gifted. (Maybe I’ll have more to write on this next year, I’m still in the beginning stages of what this looks like😉) But the facts of this year speak for themselves—I did not intend to heal, but turns out when I set my mind to discover what physical, mental and spiritual wellness looks like for me, healing was an unintended, yet welcome side effect. Ironically—as I mentioned above—by definition, intending is also actually a process of healing. Who knew? God did. A process that continues, and I’m pretty sure won’t end this side of heaven.

For six years my heart has wanted to heal, but it didn’t know how. Had I intended to heal myself, I would have failed miserably. My intention for six years has only been to discover what healthy looks like for me in all aspects of life. It has been hard, rewarding, life-changing work. My Jesus has met me right where I am every step of the way. Joey has come along side me, leaning in to what it looks like to emotionally support. Our family of four works hard to practice healthy, open and honest communication with one another. And for the first time in my life, I feel like the Lord has blessed me with friends who I know will take me back to Jesus every time I’m too weak to take myself. Throw in a healthy dose of beach life and ocean sunsets, and my heart is joy-full because I see God’s presence in all of it. I’m discovering His intentions for me.

What about you? In what way can you determine in your heart and set your mind to act in a way that will move you toward wellness in Christ? Instead of a long list of resolutions for 2020, what’s just one area of your life you can intentionally focus to be healthy? Is this the year for physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, marital, parental or financial wellness?

I read recently that “the secret to joy is to keep seeking God where we doubt He is (Voskamp, 1000 Gifts).” Which makes sense, since “in (the Lord’s) presence is fullness of joy (Psalm 16:11).” I’ve been on an intentional journey, a treasure hunt, in search of joy for some time now, and whether I like it or not, the truth is God keeps bringing me back to a closer relationship with Him in my quest. I search for joy, and He shows me a little more about His heart for me and others and this world. I grasp for joy, and He gives me His hand to hold. I cry and beg for joy in the dark, and He wraps me with his peaceful Presence. I’ve hunted for joy, intentionally, relentlessly for six years, and I keep finding my Jesus in new ways, and today, writing this letter, it makes my heart sing. What is it you think you so desperately need that you’re willing to set yourself to the quest of finding it?

I pray that this next year is the beginning of new quests for each of us. Whether your quest be for love, peace, acceptance, purpose, hope or all of the above, my guess is when you start exploring all the options—looking under all the rocks, going to great lengths, highest highs and lowest lows to find what you’ve set out to find—my guess is you’re going to find Jesus. I hope you do. Knowing Him more and knowing He fully knows me is my greatest treasure this year.

He is the best gift I can share with everyone in my life. 2 Corinthians 9:15: “Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!”

Wishing you the merriest of Christmases from our home to yours,

Joey, Jennifer, Savannah & Weston Durham

Photography Credits to Katie Morrow Photography.

There's A Tattoo On My Back

I know I write about grief a lot. After my last post, my husband gently questioned, "Is that really where you are all the time?" The truth is yes and no. Grief is funny that way. In this season of my life, it is also where the Lord continually shows up, proving Himself to me over and over again. 

But the truth lies in His presence being with me in the highs and the lows, a constant presence in the ordinary and the mundane as well.

The truth is I have experienced so much joy and beauty in the midst of my grief that it seems incongruent to be able to write about both. So, I put a tattoo on my back.

This piece of art was five years in the making. Veale's death had left me marked in such a way, it didn't seem honest to let that truth be only tattooed on my heart. But it took five years of prayer, Pinterest searching, Bible reading, and God bringing the right tattoo artist at the right place and time across my path to get it done.

You see, this is my daily reminder that joy and beauty are found all around me--in the midst of the pain and the hard and the sad, there is thrill, life abundant, adventure, and newness to be born and discovered every morning, around every corner. The common thread binding these two polar realities together? IN HIS PRESENCE.

In Jesus' presence, I experience peace, hope, comfort, joy, and a renewed love for His purpose for my life. This promise in psalms has been my anchor through the waves of grief and my reason for rejoicing at my highest highs......

Psalm 16:11 "You make known to me the path of life; 

                                       you will fill me with joy in your presence,

                                                                                                                            with eternal pleasures at your right hand." (NIV)

Savannah Veale had tattooed Job 33:4 across her rib cage as a reminder that regardless of her asthma and allergies and all the suffering they brought to her life, it was God who gave her the breath of life. It was for His glory and His purposes that she lived each day to the fullest. She was the literal, walking embodiment of joy in the midst of pain. Her tattoo was her reminder to herself that her life was not her own.....

Job 33:4 "The Spirit of God has made me;
                                                                                               the breath of the Almighty gives me life." (NIV)

And where have I found God's presence? Where have I not is a better question! My entire life I have seen Him in the artistry of His creation--every cell, every atom of matter, creature, weather movement, sunset, sunrise, mountain crag, ocean swell--in all of it, I see Jesus. I feel and experience His presence. I see God's brush strokes, His attention to detail, how the fires burn and life greens anew from the ashes, how the clouds roll in yet make for the most beautiful sunsets, how the climb is steep and jagged yet the view from the top is breathtaking. If you ever wonder why I love to travel, it's because I love to see the extent and glory of my Jesus in the world He created out of love for you and me. I can't get enough....

Psalm 19:1 "The heavens declare the glory of God,
                                                                                   and the sky above proclaims his handiwork." (ESV)

If you want to have your own personal worship experience with the Lord, find your favorite place to sit in His creation and meditate on the entirety of Psalm 19. See if He doesn't reveal Himself to you in a new way, a personal way.

And the last verse on the compass of my tattoo, well, this one was a personal call for me. I chose it because it's the verse in the Bible that comes to mind when you think of joy. The joy of the Lord is your strength, right? But when I went to look at the verse in its entirety, to make sure I wanted the context tattooed on me forever, this is what I found....

Nehemiah 8:10 "Nehemiah said, “Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared. This day is holy to our Lord. Do not grieve, for                              the joy of the Lord is your strength.”(NIV)

Now, the context of the story in Nehemiah was God's children grieving as the Word of God was being read. Whether because of the realization of just how much of the law they had broken, were unable to keep, or from an overwhelming sense of unworthiness, I'm not sure, but the text is clear that they were grieved and weeping when they heard the words of the law. (Nehemiah 8:9b) But grief is grief. Why you grieve doesn't diminish the emotion or weight of grief. 

What I read here, what I heard God say to me in this verse was, "Jennifer, Go! Live your life. Enjoy what I have given you--food, health, friendships, children, marriage, ministry--Enjoy them! Share these with those around you, the ones who aren't experiencing these things, the ones who don't have Me to enjoy. Jennifer, stop grieving, for your strength to move forward, to live life, to enjoy life is found in Me. I AM the joy you so desperately seek and want to be consumed by."

And in the fullness of this verse, of which we so often only quote the last line, the Lord gave me permission, a commission even, to stop grieving and enjoy Him and share Him and give Him all the glory and all the credit for any strength or joy anyone may think I have.

And so as an obedient child, I do my best to enjoy Him and all He has given. Every chance I get. I endeavor to laugh as hard as I cry, to smile as often as I may have cause for concern, to celebrate as much as I mourn, and to be grateful even in the midst of loss. 

The beauty is one emotion does not matter more or outweigh the other. One emotion does not cancel out or diminish the importance or reality of the other. In Jesus' presence I am free to experience both fully, without fear or condemnation for He is Lord of it all.

Which is why in His presence is exactly where I aim to live my life because there is where I find everything I ever need.

Where I Am

I had a sneaky suspicion when the first day of 2018 was the most perfect day ever that the rest of the year was downhill from there, but we always hope for the best, right?

Sigh.  Well, I've found myself in the middle of one of the hardest years of personal growth in my life. Like ever. I'm learning things about myself that I don't like. Ugly things. Hard things. Things like...

I'm not strong, I'm just really good at trying to control my environment.

This causes me to be anxious, not what I've labeled as stress my whole life. (FYI, stress is something to be managed outwardly, anxiety is a sin of the heart.)

I don't know how to deal with disappointment. I'm deeply afraid of disappointing everyone in my life, and then unable to handle the emotions that come crashing when they disappoint me.

This causes deep bouts of depression because when you're constantly aware of the inner workings of life around you (both my gift and my curse), you are constantly disappointed in something or someone, and most often that is myself.

I don't know how to communicate effectively with the people in my life. I express myself with so much emotion and deep conviction that I'm pretty sure it's off-putting for most people to receive. Learning to bridle and train these emotions to speak graciously is hard work, so I most often opt to not speak at all for fear of burdening those around me with my emotions. (The people in my life who love me best, allow me to cry and still hear my heart. For them, I am deeply grateful.) But opting to not speak has also left me feeling unheard most of my life.

It's deeply concerning how much I deeply desire to be heard, truly seen, and known and accepted just the way I am. 

Enter Jesus.

It's no coincidence that my time with the Lord this year has led me to these books. This is where the Lord has me rooted and growing, learning to accept who He made me to be and how to allow Him to use it for His glory.

Currently, I'm reading through the Psalms for like the hundredth time in my life because a depressed person needs the psalms. David was the ultimate example of how to honestly express all that you are feeling and still glorify God.

Streams in the Desert is a perfectly titled devotion that has encouraged and challenged me throughout the low points in my life. God meets me in these pages and gently reminds me life will be hard, but He is greater and He is good.

Strong Women Soft Hearts. Wow. If you've got a group of ladies that you can be real and honest with, a small group that loves you unconditionally, grab them and dive in to this book. I am challenged and encouraged by the way God is using this book to grow me, but I need the accountability of the friends I'm doing it with, or I would have tossed it a long time ago! 

How We Love workbook. I read the book, which is excellent, very insightful, but the hard work has come in inviting my husband to work through the workbook together. Our marriage has never been better, closer, or more intimate. It's taken seventeen years of married life to get us to the point where we can stomach this book together, maturely, but I'm loving diving into every hard truth revealed, with him right there with me. It might take us 10 years to work through the whole book with as often as we have time to discuss it, but it kinda makes me look forward to every conversation for the next 10 years!

When God Doesn't Fix It is the book I read in small chunks at night, on an airplane, or in moments when a screen just doesn't seem like the best choice. The very practical, straightforward debunking of myths and statement of truth at the end of every chapter has given me food for thought in all the best ways.

I've been on a personal journey to find and understand the true meaning of joy for quite some time. What I didn't bargain for was that Sorrow and Suffering would be my companions on this journey. Seems a bit ironic doesn't it? That in my quest for Joy, these are what I have encountered.

Yet, my Jesus has been with me every step of the way. Not once have I felt abandoned or condemned by Him. I condemn myself enough as it is, and even on the days when I fully expect Him to condemn, chastise, or discipline me because I've screwed up royally, instead I am constantly surprised by His constant, gentle presence that reminds me He made me and He sees me and He knows me and He loves me just the way I am.  Sinful, messed up, confused, not enough, struggling--He loves this me, right now, right here in the midst of the mess of where I am.

My Jesus is not a demanding Master, He is a patient Encourager reminding me that I may be weak, but He is Strength. I may be anxious, but He is Peace. I may be disappointed, but He is Able. I may be overwhelmed by my short-comings, but He is Greater. He is the Answer to every problem I encounter. Joy is found in not just finding Him again and reconnecting with Him, but it is found in the slow, hard work of abiding with Him through it all.

For the last six months, I've been paralyzed to share my heart because I've felt like I've been in the middle of the struggle. The story will be shareable when I have a happy ending to proclaim God's inevitable victory and glory in my life. God is gently telling me to share my story anyway because His glory is evident and real even though I don't have a happy ending yet. 

I may struggle with anxiety and depression the rest of this life. Jesus is teaching me to accept this, so He can use it. You cannot surrender what you do not accept. Maybe one day I will write the story of how He saved me and freed me from the dark emotions that overwhelm me some days, but for now, I think He just wants me to be honest with who I am now, in this season, for today--struggling, but still in love with Him. 

I had a sad day yesterday, for no particular reason (which I hate, by the way. I've lived my life believing there's a reason for everything, and now I'm learning that may not be true?--whatever I digress, another blog for another day...) I had a sad day. And in the midst of all the dark, deep, overwhelming emotions that beckoned me to crawl in bed and hide, I suddenly--literally--threw up my hands in angry surrender, and spoke out loud, "Lord, if I have to feel all these emotions will You at least use them for Your glory?" And to that, He said, "Yes."

And today, I write for the first time in a long time because even though I have no idea who reads this blog (because that doesn't really matter anyway), this is just one space where He gets the glory, and that feels right and good and chips away at the pointlessness of life that a depressed person often feels deep in their soul. My life isn't pointless if He gets the glory. I have to believe that. It has to be true.

Where are you? Really? You may believe no one really wants to know the real answer to that question, but I do. God does. Who can you share the real you with today? the vulnerable you? the you God created for today? Someone needs you to stop hiding and waiting for the happy ending to share because I'm starting to believe God gets the glory in the middle of the mess too.

Dancing with Joy & Grief

Has it been five years? Five years without her laugh, her hugs, her infectiously funny, strange sense of humor? Every May. Without fail, I fall into a funk, and the grief over her loss catches me off guard. And I have to cry and write and process and remember one of the three most devastating days in my current lifetime. I remember our last conversation as clearly as if I had just hung up the phone. I remember the hospital, the soul-searing tears, the funeral, the grief that followed.

And to try to shake the sorrow, you then try to remember all the good things too—the family vacations, the funny videos with the kids, all the middle school sleepovers and camps and prank phone calls. But for me, all the good also just adds to the sad because it all stopped when she was gone.

And it always leaves me pondering the strange dichotomy of joy and grief every time.

Grief, I think, I understand better than I'd like. I've come to recognize it's not an emotion or a process, it's a thing, a noun, a substance. It has weight and mass. It can't be measured or compared, but it can be shared. Grief is the byproduct of death. Just like we breathe in oxygen and breathe out carbon dioxide, anyone who breathes in some type of death breathes out grief, and depending on the type and quantity of what you inhaled will determine how long it takes to exhale the grief. But it must be exhaled. Grief contained is simply poison to the mind, body, and soul.

And so those who grieve, cry--A LOT. Sometimes when they least expect it because grief creeps out of the corners of life in places you didn't think to look or expect to find it.

Those who grieve become irrationally angry. We lash out in small and big ways because we have so many questions that will never be answered this side of eternity, and ultimately it never feels fair or right or just.

Those who grieve are tired--all the time. Grief is one of, if not the most, exhausting substances to exhale. It clings and wraps and sticks and stays. It hurts and aches--mind, body, and soul. It takes something powerful to shake it.

Enter Joy. Now, I'm going to struggle through this. Honestly, I'm still smack dab in the middle of processing it all myself. I might be chewing on this until Jesus comes back, but if the byproduct of death is grief, then the byproduct of life in Christ should be joy. Therein lies the predicament because a Christian, a true Christ follower, will grapple with the tension of both of these in the same space this side of heaven.

Joy and Grief will forever be dance partners in this lifetime. I'm learning that I get to decide who leads. They both need a turn because grief needs to stretch its legs. It needs to be exhaled, set free, given room to be expressed. Grief needs to be known and seen, so it needs a turn to lead the dance. After all, even Ecclesiastes 3:4 says there is "a time to weep and time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance." Grief is not a bad thing; it's not a sin. It is not a sign of weakness, it is a sign of humanity.

Just like joy is not a sign of strength, it is a sign of the presence of Christ, for "in His presence is fullness of joy. (Psalm 16:11)" Joy must be allowed to lead the dance because joy inhales Christ for it is the very essence of His presence. When you allow yourself to experience joy, you are allowing yourself to experience Christ. And yes, joy is a choice, just like following Christ is a choice, so is choosing joy.

What is joy? How do you find joy? Sigh. I don't know. Still working on those definitions for myself. But I know that when I blasted praise and worship music in my home the other day while cleaning my house, singing to Jesus--with Jesus--at the top of my lungs, I know that I felt invigorated, full of life, unafraid, and inwardly at peace the rest of that day. Joy led the dance.

Then the next day, two songs on the radio and a text message later, I was an emotional wreck. Grief needed a turn again. And so goes the dance.

Today I'm writing, maybe I'll take a walk by the ocean, maybe I'll fill my home with worship music once more, maybe I'll take a nap in my hammock or run around in the yard with my children. Joy comes and fills and takes the lead in so many different forms. It is not a replacement for the grief, it is a needed compliment to it. Grief without joy is depression, a very lonely wallflower.

One of the best ways to experience joy is to choose to be joy for someone else. My heart is never quite so heavy when I can bring joy to someone else in my life, even in the midst of my own dance with grief. That's Jesus, friends! That's the power of Jesus. Romans 12:15 says, "Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep." I take this verse quite literally. There's healing in both shared joy and shared grief. Jesus steps into both with us. Why are we so hesitant to step into both with those around us?

I have learned that true friends are the ones who can share both grief and joy with one another. Is it awkward and uncomfortable at times? Absolutely. Are there always words to express? Nope, but just being present, making an effort of some sort, usually means the whole world. It's also a two-way street. I have to exhale my grief to a friend in order to give them the opportunity to be joy, but ultimately, my only reliable source is Jesus. Where others will fail me, He always succeeds and fulfills and shows up. Who better to understand the byproduct of death than the Man who suffered under it here on earth, only to defeat it, allowing joy to be available for everyone through His presence in us?

Ah, the dance of joy and grief. It is one I have not learned gracefully, but my Jesus is a patient teacher. If I must dance this dance for the remainder of my days, I pray He teaches me how to make it beautiful.

Christmas Letter 2016

Dear Family & Friends,     

We love California. Living here is a gift from the Lord. One we never even knew we needed.  There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t breathe in the blue skies, sunshine, and 70degree temps and thank the good Lord that this is my home for this season of life. This year especially, I’m grateful for this daily blessing of beauty and serenity because a more truthful confession is this has been one of the hardest AND one of the best years of my life all in one. I’ve lived out both sides of the coin, moment by moment on some days. Some days and moments were heads up, and many days and moments were tails up, head buried. So when you read this letter, I pray you hear an honest voice and see an honest glimpse into the life of a family that at the end of the day, the end of the year, just loves Jesus and wants you to love Him too because His presence has taught me how to persevere with joy this year.

Perseverance. He gave this word to me in January in the middle of the study of Revelation in Bible Study Fellowship (BSF).  At the time, I figured it was just the word I needed in order to finish strong the study (not an easy book to study!), a word that reflected what was required of God’s people throughout the book of Revelation. Ah, but it has represented so much more. Through the comingling of joy and struggle, God is teaching me the unsurpassed beauty and treasure of perseverance.

Perseverance, endurance, stick-to-it-ness, steadfastness. Words our present culture respects from a distance, but no one gets too close, and most people try to pass them by. Those words have teeth. They hint at something hard and negative, sounds like work. Those words require a way of living that isn’t fast-paced, constantly changing, full of options and instantly microwavable results. No, these words produce a character quality in someone that makes them resilient and rooted and strong and beautiful.

Savannah got her first set of braces in January, and I watched her persevere all year with an amazing attitude and acceptance. The braces came off in November and her teeth are beautiful. I’ve watched her persevere in swimming, tennis, and gymnastics this year, along with developing her skills in the arts and her academics. (Learning Latin is not for the faint of heart! She is taking 3^rd grade by storm!) My girl has more energy and more gumption for life than any child I’ve ever known. But the best news of all came in February when she openly prayed during our family devotion on the first day of Lent to receive Christ as her Savior. She chose to be baptized in my mom’s pool in July, surrounded by our GA family and friends, and I have watched Savannah persevere in her growth as a child of God ever since. She is nine years of joy!

I’ve watched Weston persevere in his walk with the Lord as well. He’s my cautious, intuitive thinker, and it’s been a joy to watch him grow in courage and determination this year, willing to commit and take more chances. Turning 7 in August, he was more than ready to begin first grade and has excelled. But watching him begin to fall in love with the game of soccer this fall was maybe my favorite thing. He works so hard! He doesn’t give up, and he takes correction, honestly always trying to improve. He scaled wall after wall of rock climbing courses at a gym at Thanksgiving, like a pro. We jokingly called him “Rock-boy,” to which he replied, “Call me Peter. His name means Rock.” We laughed, but my heart swelled because Weston’s name means Steadfast. He is more like Peter the apostle than he even knows. Watching my son persevere to overcome fears this year has been a gift.

Joey has persevered in his work and in his growth as a husband and father. I’ve watched him approach every change that came his way at work with grace, always acting with integrity in each situation, giving nothing but his best. I’ve watched him seek the Lord this year in a new way. I’ve seen him grow closer and stronger in his role as our family’s leader. After fifteen years of marriage, he is still persevering with me in marriage and seeking to pursue me, know me, see me. We began the year on the tails up side of the coin, but through the power and provision of our relationship with Jesus and our love and commitment to one another, we’ve been living the heads up side for most of the year. Joey’s perseverance in choosing Jesus, choosing us, every day, has been my greatest gift and highest high of this year.

The heads up moments have been simply amazing, dreams realized—God’s provision in completely taking care of buying back our not-well-made RV, traveling to San Francisco, driving the Pacific Coast Highway for Spring Break taking in the breathtaking majesty of mountains dropping into the vastness of the ocean, camping in Joshua Tree National Park in the middle of 20mph winds (so many stories!), visiting dear friends in Brazil over the summer, getting to see Iguaçu Falls while we were there (one of the New Seven Natural Wonders of the World!) which were simply mesmerizing, a last minute trip to Hawaii before school started back full of snorkeling with sea turtles and ogling over the uniqueness of our Creator’s design, co-leading a table of multi-generational women through the women’s ministry at our church, deepening my relationship with my now-sophomore girls in high school ministry, developing so many new friendships, lots of paddle surfing, and spending almost every weekend boogie boarding and watching sunsets by a fire on a beach with our dearest CA friends. These are some of my favorite memories ever, in my entire lifetime. So many amazing blessings. I have loved the heads up side of the coin this year.

The tails up moments have been learning to persevere in the mundane, the ordinary, and the seemingly insignificant routines of this stage of my life. The never-ending laundering, child-shuttling, grocery-shopping, meal-planning, homework completing, errand-running, need fulfilling stage of life where my identity seems to disappear into the titles of “mom” and “wife.” I love these titles. I’m blessed to have them. But they become only titles and not blessings when my life is not fully connected to my heavenly Father who breathes life and purpose into the mundane. Who has asked me this year to stay the course and live out everything I’ve ever proclaimed I believed in the ordinariness of my life, placing one foot in front of the other, one day at a time, being present, and daring me to find joy in it. He’s challenged me to be content being a nobody (in the eyes of the world) for Him. To live a faith filled, righteous life for the sole purpose of being noticed and praised and seen only by Him. This has been hard, but it has also produced an abiding joy I am still learning to define.

In the middle of these highs and lows, my dearest CA friends lost their eight-year-old son in a tragic accident. Savannah and Weston lost a playmate and friend, and the world lost a beautiful soul. Grief has colored the last six months of this year for me because I have come to love these friends and their family like my own. Choosing and desiring and loving being a part of their daily lives through the pain of this journey has taught me what perseverance means more than any other experience in my life.

Perseverance is not something you set out to accomplish or obtain. It is a natural byproduct of loving well. I love my friends deeply, so despite the pain from their lives that naturally ebbs into mine, I will persevere in that friendship. I love my children deeply, so despite the irritations and hurt we may cause each other, I will persevere in my role as their parent. I love my husband with all my heart, so despite the inevitable hardships our growing and changing lives will encounter, I will persevere in learning to be the helpmate God created me to be for him. I love my Jesus with all that I am, with my whole life, so despite the pain or discomfort that crashes into my life from tension with this world, I will persevere in my relationship with Him.

Perseverance is the natural byproduct of loving well. What a treasure!

So this Christmas season I challenge you also to persevere. Look around you and love well everyone and anyone the Lord has placed in your path. Follow Jesus’ example in Hebrews 12:1-3:

1Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us (you are NOT alone), let US also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us RUN with perseverance the race that is set before us, 2fixing our eyes ON JESUS, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the JOY set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

3For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (emphasis added mine)

Some of you need to believe you are not alone, some need to throw off weights and/or sin entangling your stride, some need to give yourself credit for loving well and fixing your eyes on Jesus, some need to despise shame and endure the cross God has given you to bear out of love for Jesus because Jesus doesn’t ask you to persevere through anything in life that He hasn’t already persevered and claimed victory over Himself! Learn to love well like Jesus. Recognize that somewhere in the middle of the process of enduring, there is JOY! The more years that pass, the more I believe that true joy cannot be experienced without deep struggle. So persevere because true joy is the reward, the prize, the gift.

May your love for Jesus produce perseverance in your life that brings glory to God and blessings uncountable to you and yours this coming year. Never give up on your pursuit of Christ because He will never give up His pursuit of you. He even came as far as heaven is to earth to humbly love us so unconditionally as to become One among us. Immanuel. God with us. Merry Christmas!

Grateful to be called His children,

Joey, Jennifer, Savannah, & Weston

An Unexpected Blessing: Happy Mother's Day!

Have you ever read a passage of Scripture a thousand times only to have the Holy Spirit reveal a new truth about that very passage that you thought you understood so well all these years?

Matthew 25:

31 “But when the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the angels with Him, then He will sit on His glorious throne. 32 All the nations will be gathered before Him; and He will separate them from one another, as the shepherd separates the sheep from the goats;33 and He will put the sheep on His right, and the goats on the left.

34 “Then the King will say to those on His right, "Come, you who are blessed of My Father,inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.

35 For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; 

36 naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me." 

37 Then the righteous will answer Him, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You something to drink? 38 And when did we see You a stranger, and invite You in, or naked, and clothe You? 39 When did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’ 

40 The King will answer and say to them, "Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me."

I always thought this passage of Scripture was like the ultimate Christian goal.  It's the reward we all strive for--the "Well-done-My-good-and-faithful-servant" Award.  I always assumed it came at the end of times when I'm finally in the presence of my Jesus.  It's what I would spend my life trying to attain, but never really be able to see.  Just like the righteous in verse 37, I would humbly ask my Jesus, "When did I ever do these things for You? I just raised two kids. Just the two you gave me.  I'm pretty sure that's the only thing I ever really accomplished, and I'm not even sure I did a great job. You really did all the heart work."

And recently, the Lord literally took this passage and whispered into my heart, "Exactly. If you have ears to hear and eyes to see, look, and be encouraged!"

Verse 35: Who comes to you hungry, asking for food, needing to be fed, unable to feed themselves more than a child?  And Mama, whether that child be of your own flesh or someone else's, the choice to serve them is the same.  There are millions of mothers across the world who choose not to serve their own children.  The fact that you make that choice for your own flesh and blood does not demean or belittle your calling or your service.

This verse also does not specify whether the food given is spiritual or physical.  If you choose to do one or the other or both, are you not unknowingly feeding Christ as well?

Who comes to you more thirsty, asking for water or juice, needing to be rehydrated, unable to pour a cup for themselves than a child? Mama, if you have done this for a child, you have done this for Christ as well! If you have poured words of life into the cup of a child of any age who is searching, in need of hope that only comes from the Wellspring of Life in Jesus Christ, then you have given Living Water to the thirsty.

Who comes to you more of a stranger in a strange land than a child birthed out of the womb, taken from another home, or perhaps another country?  And yet mama, you choose to bring them into your home, to invite them into the vulnerable places of your heart and life, to love them, to care for them, to bathe them, to nurture them, to pour yourself into them. To make it so they are no longer a stranger, but a child who has a place of belonging.  Well done. Jesus sees you and accepts your invitation, your sacrifice.

Verse 36: Who comes to you more naked than a newborn baby? or a child who has been stripped of all they have known, of anything familiar? And Mama, you choose to clothe them. To give them new garments, new coverings to warm and protect and celebrate and give dignity! We do this not only with physical clothing, but with our words and what and how we teach them. By doing so you choose to clothe Christ.

Who do we spend more time ministering to than our own sick children? You blow their noses, medicate their fevers, sleep at their bedsides when the coughing is thick, hold their hands, hug their tiny, weak bodies, willing every moment that you wish it was you and not them suffering. I ask you, Mama, who do you minister to more than your own sick babies?!?!

Jesus says, "Truly I say to you, Mama, to the extent that you did it to one (even one!) of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me."

And who do we visit in prison more than our own children? Whether their prison be physical--such as actual prison bars or closed bedroom doors, or whether it be spiritual--such as a rebellious or unrepentant heart, or whether it be mental and/or emotional--such as past abuses and hurts, who visits a child in theses circumstances, meeting them exactly where they are, whether in person or through prayer, more than their mother?!?!?!?!

I'm telling you, I have rejoiced in the unveiling of this truth to me for weeks now!

Because on the days as a mother when I feel like all I accomplished was cleaning, feeding, and laundering, I NEED THIS.

I need to hear the whisper of my Lord say, "You fed ME today. You washed MY clothes today. You soothed MY heart with your hug today. You made ME feel better with that medicine today."

Because at the end of the day, every day, for the rest of my life, if all I do is serve HIM, then my heart can live with that and rejoice in that and find hope and purpose and meaning and joy...in THAT.

"Thank you Lord for unexpected blessings, for new truths revealed in old passages, for proving Yourself to be faithful to Your Word in Your Word and through Your Word over and over and over again."

So Happy Mother's Day friends! Be encouraged Mama! You serve the King of Kings each day and every day right in your own home!