Rain Drops Keep Falling, Continued.

At the close of my last post, we left Jen standing in a bathroom in complete hysterics after a particularly humilliating confrontation at a worship service somewhere in Atlanta.

I'd like to share my thoughts on that experience.

I'd like to start off with 1 Corinthians 13:1 as it relates to the gang of concerned peers who approached me.

I don't think the Lord could have orchestrated a better paradigim for what I ought NEVER to do to another living soul for as long as I should live. Even now the sting of humilation penetrates deep into my heart.

I don't hold anything against those young women who approached me. In many ways they were so RIGHT. They we're justified in being disgusted by my attire. They we're perfectly within their right to be concerend for their "brothers". Clearly they knew something was askew.

Unfortuantely, they decieded that they should deal with me instead of the Lord, and they pushed aside His command to do everything in love, preferring their own methods instead.

What they didn't understand is that while my attire was a real problem I had many more significant problems happening under the surface. They allowed themselves to become indignat and forgot what it meant to receive grace. They discriminated among themselves and became judges with evil thoughts. And, just like the Pharasees, they forgot just who it was Christ died for.

So many times when we talk about sharing the Gospel in areas of the world where there is immense sufering due to lack of basic physical necessities, we talk about how there comes a point when a person needs to have food in their belly and water to drink before they are able to receive anything deeper. Well, I think love is a necessitytoo; like air, or water, or food, love is VITAL to people being able to hear and receive the Gospel.

When a person comes into church starving for love who do we think we are to deny them it? Do we think we're serving Jesus? Do we really believe He is pleased with us, the children He rescued from wallowing in the mirk and mire of our own wretched sin, for rejecting each other?

How could these ladies have dreamed of the many nights I had been sitting before the Lord allowing Him to wash my feet? How could they have known that I had turned over my heart to Him? They were never privvy to the conversations me and my Jesus had together! They were unaware of where my heart stood in relation to God's.

This is why.....IT'S WHY HE WARNS US OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN:

Luke 6:36-38 (NIV)
36Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

37"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. 38Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you."

Proverbs 21:2 (NIV)
2 All a man's ways seem right to him,
but the LORD weighs the heart.

1 Samuel 16:7b (NIV)
... The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."

James 2:12-13 (NIV)
12Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, 13because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment!

Proverbs 14:12 (NIV)
12 There is a way that seems right to a man,
but in the end it leads to death.

In the end I see that even the horrible shame I felt as a result of this life experience isn't a waste. I don't have to be pelted by guilt and embarassment. I can receive the blessings God offers me for my participation in that affair.

What seemed like a torrential downpour at the time now feels like a gentle restorative mist.

Not only am I surrounded by God's grace, I'm soaking in it.

Genesis 50:20 (NIV)
You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. (When I read this verse I replace "many lives" with MY LIFE)


Lord keep my feet from stumbling into the pit of pride! May I NEVER forget what you have done for me, and may I NEVER be afraid to share Your love with others. I ask you to never let my love for You grow cold. Don't ever let me prefer religion over my ralationshp with you. Don't let my insecurities keep me from extending grace and peace to others. Amen

Rain Drops Keep Falling

Like an arthritis flare up before a rainstorm a memory came to mind yesterday which seemed to rise up out of nowhere. It felt strange to experience the effects of deep wounds creeping upon me suddenly. It wasn't the first time I'd relived the humiliation of this particular affair.

While the temptation is to think the timing of this reappearance is random, I choose, instead, to receive it as a signal.

Maybe I need the reminder of the moral of my story. Or, maybe, there's been a shift in the weather and I need to be prepared. Whatever the reason, deep in my soul I think I smell rain.

I'm praying for cool April showers of God's grace instead of a pelting from regret and shame.

This morning I feel compelled to share the story with you.

I was summoned for jury duty yesterday. I wasn't selected, but I did have lots of time to myself.

A person can do a lot of thinking when they aren't interrupted every five minutes by the demands of four children. And thinking is what I did.

I was in a great mood and reading the book "Don't Waste Your Life" by John Piper while I sat patiently wondering if I would be called upon to serve. I don't know if something in that book triggered my recollection of this event, but as I was driving home the thoughts came barging in.

The rocky path of my youth is a little too sordid to share in detail. I'm sure that you'll be able to connect many dots though. Out of respect and love for my parents I don't want to specifically share about the events which negatively impacted me during childhood. Generically speaking their divorce, subsequent remarriages, and subsequent divorces created tumultuous times for everyone involved.

Had I been a person of more character maybe I would have spared myself much grief in my teen years. Instead I chose to treat myself horribly and made just about every stupid decision within my power to make.

I had received Jesus in the sixth grade. I heard the Gospel message and KNEW it to be true when I was taken as a guest to AWANA night at a local church. My mom would become a Christ follower less than two years later.

We attended church during my high school years and I became involved with the youth there, serving in various capacities. I was also involved with boys, sneaking out and partying.

It's safe to say my attention was divided. And I was miserable.

I never doubted my decision to put my faith in Jesus but I needed to mature. The enormity of the decision I had made to follow Jesus hadn't sunken in when I was in 6th grade. My teen years provided opportunity for my faith to be tested.

May times my faithfulness was exhausted.

Many times God's grace was sufficient for me.

At 18 years old, I'd been kicked out and then taken back into my mother's home several times. I managed somehow to (partly) pull things together and graduate. I had already met Dustin and began dating him. We had been attending church together. Both of us were ready to grow in our faith and take our relationship with Jesus more seriously.

Events had necessitated a move to Atlanta, to live full time with my father for the first time in over ten years. Dustin and I were supposed to date long distance but we determined it was likely I wouldn't return to Arizona for a long time. Dustin decided it would be best if we broke up.

And so began my journey into an unknown wilderness. I was supposedly in Atlanta to begin college. I had no clue God was really moving me there for some intensive therapy - just me and Jesus - in preparation for the life He was building for me back here in Arizona.

I arrived in the South with my heart shattered in a million pieces. The Lord had plucked me out of my life and placed me in a city where I knew not a soul. I felt terribly alone.

I was supposed to be an adult. If I wanted to be a Christian and live out my faith I would have to be responsible for doing things like getting myself to a church, since my father and his wife did not share my faith.

I was being called upon to get off the fence and decide what, or Who, I was going to live for.

In those days I had never prayed harder or more earnestly. You could find me from about 10PM until 2AM sitting on the patio with a blanket wrapped around me, my journal, and a cigarette in my hand.

That's right, I prayed and smoked at the same time.

And, Jesus still listened.

Every night for ten months I reflected and cried; I repented and praised.

Big changes were happening though they couldn't be seen on the outside. The whole course of my life was being altered during that time. Though, admittedly, I still retained some of those bad habits I so desperately wanted to shake off forever.

In looking for a church to attend I met a young girl who told me that she attended a college group. She invited me to spend a weekend with her at her dorm, and meet all her friends. After knowing her all of about a day, I agreed. (I was VERY lonely, and immature)

The first event we would be attending together was a worship service. I was excited to go and meet new people and just be in an atmosphere of corporate worship once again after months of near solitude.

Apparently I was so focused on my excitement about the worship service I forgot to focus on what I might wear that evening.

Immature, unwise, wounded and insecure Jen showed up in her usual attire, which was: jeans, a midriff tank (which revealed my naval piercing) and a cardigan sweater (left unbuttoned).

I clapped and sang along with the crowd. I didn't care that I knew none of the words. I just wanted to sing to Jesus.

When the music portion ended everyone broke out to mingle. It was then that the first people I would meet that evening came to greet me.

A group of about 8 or ten peers (all female) proceeded to walk up and surrounded me. The leader nearly bumped noses with me and told me how inappropriately I was dressed. She loudly told me, "Here we try not to be a stumbling block to our brothers, so we like to keep ourselves covered. We don't appreciate you coming in here like that." She proceeded to point to my stomach.

My belly ring glistened under the lights that evening. You should have seen it. Never in all it's years had it been so shiny. You would have thought I spent hours polishing that sucker just for the occasion.

I was humiliated....... AND SHE WAS RIGHT.

I hadn't thought of it, but I should have. I didn't know better, but I should have. My church attire could be defined as sleazy, but the truth is I had been a resident of Sleazeville for a while at that point.

In that moment I felt as if a flashing neon sign was above my head. It read LOSER.

With all my heart I wanted to be more. Everything in me wished (and still wishes to some degree) I could have been. I had been pouring out my everything before the Lord desiring for Him to meet me. If I could have cleaned myself up before inviting Jesus to take over the mess I'd made of my life I would have. But, I couldn't. If He wanted me He would have to come and take me just as I was.

I ran to the nearest bathroom barely holding myself together. As I buttoned down my sweater in front of the mirror I was treated to the reflection of my tears and snot running down my face. If it were possible to be any more broken than the state in which I had arrived that evening, I was. Everything hurt.

Deep down inside, though, I knew this hurt was different. The hurt I had been experiencing up to this point that been self inflicted and led to true remorse. Remorse, as used by the Holy Spirit, while painful, leads to repentance and is actually medicinal. Even in all my sorrow, I was able to recognize the healing properties of the pain I had been experiencing under the care of the Master Surgeon.

This pain was different. It was infused with shame and ridicule. This pain was unkind and unloving. It wanted to elevate itself above me so it could trample me. This pain didn't really want to see me get well; it wanted to destroy me.

I have so much more to share but this post is getting to be very long. Look for another post tomorrow or the following day.

1 Corinthians 13:1 (NLT)
If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

Mark 2:16-17 (Amplified Bible)
16And the scribes [belonging to the party] of the Pharisees, when they saw that He was eating with [those definitely known to be especially wicked] sinners and tax collectors, said to His disciples, Why does He eat and drink with tax collectors and [notorious] sinners?

17And when Jesus heard it, He said to them, Those who are strong and well have no need of a physician, but those who are weak and sick; I came not to call the righteous ones to repentance, but sinners (the erring ones and all those not free from sin).

Hebrews 10:16-25 (NIV)
16"This is the covenant I will make with them
after that time, says the Lord.
I will put my laws in their hearts,
and I will write them on their minds."[a] 17Then he adds:
"Their sins and lawless acts
I will remember no more."[b] 18And where these have been forgiven, there is no longer any sacrifice for sin. 19Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, 20by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, 21and since we have a great priest over the house of God, 22let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. 23Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.

2 Timothy 2:13 (NIV)
if we are faithless,
he will remain faithful,
for he cannot disown himself.

Haitian Orphans

I went out last night with a good friend who works for World Orphans. (Which is a great organization. You should check it out) We were discussing how the earthquake has brought much attention to the plight of orphans in Haiti. We know many more folks are desiring to adopt from there all of a sudden, but we are also aware that it isn't very feasible for now.

She wrote a great post which I believe will be very informative for those folks who are new to the world of international adoption and may be considering Haiti in this moment.

It's so frustrating to think that children won't be able to be adopted yet it is very much the case. I know that people will be maddened (we all should be) but it is also really important to realize that the guidelines are important. They prevent abuses and are necessary.

So, the real question for those of us who have felt our heartstrings tugged is how willing are we to help? Truly?

If we can't adopt precious Haitian orphans (for now) are we still willing to spend thousands of dollars to save the life of a child/ren who won't grow to call us mom or dad?

I hope the answer is still yes!

Our family is praying through ways to give sacrificially even now in the midst of our adoption.

Today some folks are facing a nightmare. For them there is no turning away. There is no diversion. There is no flipping the channel to erase the horrifying images. The hunger pangs remain. The wounds still seep. The loss threatens to overwhelm.

We don't want to be saviours. There's only One. We don't want to be heroes. Jesus is THE Hero. We just want to be the kind of people who, when we see suffering, are willing to dig in with those who are facing it and get our hands dirty alongside.

Jesus never leaves us to suffer alone. Because of Him I want to do what I can to share in the (deep breath) *suffering* (there I actually said it) of others.

Corinthians 4:11-13.
Philippians 2:1-3
Hebrews 13: 16 & 20-21

Taking Measure

God's really been driving a message home to me. Like a slow drip His persistent words beat on in my mind burrowing deeper only to spring up in my speech days (if not months or years) later. That's usually right about the time I actually figure out what it is He's been trying to tell me all along

It's disturbing that I've been journaling and praying over this topic for so long yet missing (or possibly avoiding) one very important piece of the puzzle. What's even more disconcerting is the idea that I knew these things without really KNOWING them. Suddenly, God has seen fit to tie it all together for me with a neat bow and in such a way as is unavoidable. Since the moment I came to understand what it was I'd been doing I've felt a freedom to move forward. But, I'm blabbering and I haven't even told you the details yet. So, I'll get to the point.

I've been forced to take certain things into account since my health issues arose in December. God has allowed those events to quite literally challenge my adulterous relationship with personal comfort and safety. I realize I have been foolishly measuring God's love for me by temporal standards in many ways that previously had not occurred to me. While I'd gotten it right in some ways I'd been getting it very wrong in others.

God's love for me is NOT measured by the food in my stomach, the bed that I sleep in, the health of my physical body, the freedom I enjoy, and on & on. Unfortunately I find, in truth, that I foolishly end up resenting God when my personal definition of "love" (translation: the comfort I find in those things previously listed) isn't met. As a follower Jesus I must always remember God's love for me is measured by the lengths He went to ensure my salvation though Jesus Christ and secure my place as a citizen in His Kingdom. That fact needs to be enough for me even when life is painful which really requires some maturity out of me. I must change how I process God's love for me in the midst of extremely burdensome life experiences. That kind of work can really only be done through the Holy Spirit because it requires everything to pass through a thick filter of faith in, reliance upon, and adherence to Christ Jesus.

The fact that the physical world is not always a good indicator of God's love drives me to His Word with renewed passion. Truly, Divine revelation has to happen for us to comprehend the hope we have in Christ and I intend to pursue such revelation. In my study of Ephesians 1 it strikes me how much we should seek this understanding so that we may know Him better. When I was infantile in my faith God used the physical things of this world as object lessons in my life to point me toward the deeper spiritual truths of His Fatherly love and provision. He, being the loving God He is, gently built up my faith. Now it's time for His Word to assure me of His love once more, to round out my understanding of Him not through temporal things but through spiritual truths. I feel the Lord prodding me on toward greater faith. A faith that allows my comfort to wait to be gratified until the fullness of the Lord's timing and rest secure in His love during the meantime. A faith that requires I pull up my big girl panties and stop being so juvenile in esteeming my personal comfort over His spiritual agenda.

All this is not because God is mean or perverse. I'm ill equipped to be able to expound in depth on all the infinite ways God's plans for us are loving and good. The point of this post is not to preach a sermon. I'm simply saying I finally read Jesus loud and clear about why it's so important for me to give up the things below for the greater things He has to offer.

Options

Someone we know has been trying to write you all week.

If one were to be entirely honest in a transparent type way one would write you and tell you that a person that we know was in hysterics the day before the retreat because she was feeling left out of the fun of travelling to Ethiopia with two of her favorite women on the planet. That person would also tell you that while that woman COMPLETELY understood that God would have made a way for her to go if He had really wanted her to be there she couldn't help but feel deep pain. There was something to that pain though. Something more than just an earnest hurt. Something uglier than she imagined at the time.

That person admitted to having to fight hard against feelings that she was not invited to the party. Now by saying "party" our girl doesn't intend to suggest that heading over to Ethiopia and seeing the magnitude of suffering her favorite ladies were going to see was by any means a fun party. What she means is that she KNEW God had big things planned for them during the trip. She KNEW that God would draw near to them even as they drew near to others. She TRUSTED God had BIG, life changing things planned for them. That's the kind of party our girl wanted to partake in. The seeing God move and experiencing Him kind of party. So this person was wrestling with the question of why the Sovereign Almighty had deemed it to not be her time to go when she so desperately wanted it to be.

Our friend, you know the whiney one, well she also likes adventure and she thinks that this also had a role to play in her pity party. There's something in her that sorta clicks over when the odds seem to be against her. She knows that something in the adventure and the challenge causes her heart to pump a bit harder. She barely admits it to herself. It's just that there are times when she knows things could topple over and, deep down, she wants to see if she's up to the challenge. Not that she thinks she's got the stuff, but she happens to follow someone Who does and He loves her. To use a bad analogy: she's kinda like that girlfriend who picks a fight with a huge guy just so she can watch her boyfriend defend her.

Now this person was blessed to have a seat reserved for her at a retreat scheduled to happen in her life at the time when she had otherwise planned to have a pity party for herself. Wanna know what the topic of the retreat was? It related to being like Mary in a Martha-like world. Our girl, very unfortunately, is much more like Martha than she has ever been like Mary. Now, don't be too hard on our girl, she does have some pure motives but God knew they needed to be sifted, and sift He did! He shook her up real good. Some of the shakin' was hard for her to swallow. There are a BUNCH of reasons why it was hard for her to swallow but the nasty, bottom line truth is that there was a lot of pride involved.

God understood so well what our friend didn't; that she needed to let His love for her and His approval of her be her ONLY validation. He wanted her to realize that often she seeks validation not only from others, but from her own self and that the measuring stick she was using was a faulty one. Jesus wanted her to accept His love as more than sufficient. He had no problem with denying her what she desired and allowing her to experience discomfort due to shortsighted vision and impatience. He was loving her and doing what was best for her. Like Mary, Jesus had invited our girl to sit at His feet and to find rest in His company. He offered His very Self as her reward only she was in danger of trading all that for her own version of Martha's busyness.

Well folks, here's where the battle ensued. Which (or should we say whom) would our girl choose? She had a few options. 1) She could delude herself into thinking it was all about her. She could imagine herself being more important that she really was. She knew that would be a bad choice but she'd be lying if she didn't confess that her fleshy pride really gives sanity a run for it's money. 2) She could refuse to accept God's sovereign plan and stubbornly lock her knees instead of bowing and accepting that His plans didn't include her preferences. 3) She could grumble and be discontent. 4) she could trade the invitation for intimacy with Jesus for activity and the busyness of doing. 5) she could do ALL of the above at once or 6) She could let it all go and just submit. In her submission she could receive Christ.

Well folks, our girl wanted you to know that she's choosing submission. Don't think for a moment that it's easy or that she's submitting in every area constantly. She wanted you to know that it would be a HUGE mistake to think that she's all cleaned up with a nice bow on top. She doesn't want to make herself seem like she's got this one pulled together. Sometimes her emotions sorta straddle a few of the options. Ultimately, though, she's cast herself before the throne of Mercy. She's seeking a transformed heart and pure motives. She wants to be Mary even while the Martha in her is fighting tooth and nail. She's given up resisting being shaken up and sifted through. She's trusting in Redemption and Hope. She's a mess apart from Jesus and she knows it. She doesn't like herself any other way than in His care. She has only one hope and that's in Christ alone.

PS- A while ago our friend wrote this:

If you want to know why my blog is named be BOLD jen here is why: I intended to write personal things that would be nearly impossible for me to speak to you face to face. I wanted to just be me, to write about my heart, what I am learning and all that is swirling around my brain. I wanted to honestly track what the Lord is doing in my life. To do this requires boldness. So I meant to remind myself every time I went to blog to be BOLD. There ya have it. The title pushes me on to write some sentences that otherwise wouldn't have made it on the page. I hope there is some benefit for those who spend some time here reading

That never fails to bite me in the rear end when occasions like this arise.

It's My Day

I'm 29 today. Yipee. I found a single gray hair as a birthday present. To that I say: Thanks LORD. I'm not so vain that I can't thank him for letting me live long enough to have ONE. Let's just keep it at one, okay! From here on out I vow to NEVER go hunting for gray hair again. It's me and my haircolor 'till death do we part ;)

Also, this is the LAST official birthday I will ever be celebrating. If age is just a number then it's a number I prefer not to know. Then I won't feel so compelled to act my age.

The name game poll is officially closed. The clear winner is Bridon. I am not guaranteeing that this will be The Boy's name but you definitely validated our top pick, so, we shall see. Time will tell.

That's it for me today.

Red Letters Campaign- The Emancipation Network

I wanted to introduce you to a wonderful organization called T.E.N. or The Emancipation Network. I had the privilege of working with them a few years back to host awareness parties about human trafficking. I even had the honor of meeting the Founder Sarah Symons when she came to AZ for a visit. I can tell you her passion is comsuming and she's the real deal. T.E.N. is a great group to hook up with if you're looking to get involved and take a stand against human trafficking

They have grown so much over the past few years. I am thrilled at their success. Head over and investigate The Emanicpation Network for yourself. I still have amny of the items I purchased from them. They are great conversation starters.

Take a look at a few of my favorite items on my "to buy" list.

Rice Bag Backpack
Silver Flower and Stone Bracelet
Orange Dragonfly Choker
Jewel Tone Journal

SOOO FUNNY!!

Oh my goodness I am laughing SO hard over here!! I read this post over at Stuff Christian Like (Thanks Julie for turning me on to this blog!) and it brought back DEEPLY repressed memories from Jr. High and our summer camp trip. Memories I wish I could have forgotten, but since I can't I suppose I will share them with you all. If my cousin Christine happens to be reading maybe she can help fill in the gaps where my memory has become fuzzy (after all I have worked long and hard to try to forget this trip!)

Ok dates and location are a little fuzzy because after all when you are in Jr. High, like, not much matters except, like, what boys you have a crush on at camp! I had originally thought I was in 8th grade but upon deeper reflection it must be 6th or 7th. We were heading out to camp in Michigan or Wisconsin possibly Missouri not really sure. Upon arriving at this camp we were situated in bunkhouses that were rough. Some better than others. Ours was middle of the road. We didn't have to use the outhouses (PTL) but there were bugs a plenty. Our activities included horseback riding, leather working and, you guessed it folks- what every Jr. High student NEEDS for a genuine spiritual awakening experience- Unsupervised White Water Rafting!

What did Jen opt for? You know it! I chose the "shoot me down a river and hope I live through it package". My cousin did too. They stuck helmets on us and loaded us into a raft with 4 other girls with ZERO rafting experience, helped us shove off and viola! Summer camp excursions at their best!

My cousin Christine and I had done a little canoeing before. So we at least had a general idea of how to row. It was up to us, we figured, to lead this raft to safety. (Oh Lord what was Your thought process there?!) Every girl rowed to her own beat and we basically travelled down the river doing circles. If you're going to try to imagine the scene you must do it as I do. I imagine the scene from the safety of the river bank. I imagine staring at my middle school self. I like to include the sound of our screaming voices in nearing then distancing fashion as would happen with the spinning round and round of the raft while it goes swooping over the rocks with water blasting every rafter in the face causing them to cough and spit up all while managing to maintain the screechiest most ear piercing Jr. High-girl-screams ever. You might also imagine me trying to stand up and convince (read that scream at) the girl next to me to stop back paddling because she was the LEAD perpetrator of said spinning. UGH! It was wretched. All I remember about that event was that for the first time in my life I seriously considered murder. What I wouldn't give to toss that ONE girl overboard!

When we finally reached the calm waters we got out to kiss the ground only to discover the waters were filled with leeches. Some of us had visitors!! The kind that like to stick around for a while. I didn't really believe leeches were real. I HAD seen them in the Rambo movie but never in real life before. All I knew about them was what info I gleaned from that fantastically informative movie. I thought that they had to be burned off or something horrific like that. (Wait did Rambo burn them of or cut them off with that HUGE knife? I can't remember now but back in the day the image was still freshly burned into my brain and I was terrified!)

Yes we did make it out alive. I nearly fainted from the emotional, spiritual and physical exhaustion. I am sure there were some really wonderful events that weekend but all I can remember is the rafting. No spiritual progress was made for me after that. All I wanted to do was get home and FAST. For the first time in a long time I yearned to be with my "mommy". I hadn't thought of the significance of the fact that I am able to raft today! I am so proud of myself. To think that I went rafting in Costa Rica and didn't even have a panic attack is monumental. I did, however, mention a little bit of the story to Dustin. When the guide asked if any of us had rafting experience he flashed his usual devilish look at me and nudged me to say yes. I quickly followed that up with my "Shut up or DIE" look. That got him in line right fast ;)

The post over at Stuff Christians Like was such a timely reminder as the kids of Palm Valley Church will be going off for their retreat soon. I am sure it won't be quite the same for them as it was for me. At least I am praying so. If you are a parent of a child and you plan to send your child off this summer I have one question for you: Have you done your homework?

A Happy Mess

I used to wonder if I was identity confused. Then, I took a personality test which confirmed it.

No, really. I got conflicting results.

I am both an introvert and an extrovert. I am Melancholy and Sanguine in one.

I like to believe that in actuality I am just a VERY complicated woman. My husband confirms it..... and so it must be true! I'm intricate, that's all. Who isn't? Therefore I believe that neither I, nor anyone else, can be summed up by some silly little personality test (okay that's the melancholy in me talking... the sanguine thinks they're just for fun.) Thankfully the good Lord "gets me" and often times untangles me. Praise!

Plain and simple: I have a difficult time answering questions about myself.Partly because I am pathetically unable to give simple answers to simple questions. (Hey people I have never claimed not to need an editor, you know this! I always admit to being wordy!) I don't have a single favorite color, song, movie ANYTHING. Not even food. It's just sad.

I can't narrow anything down to a single thing. You should hear the arguments that go on in my head when I first try. I've tried to be a one word answer kinda girl but I end up feeling like I'm in denial of the other parts of myself if I only list one item. Even when I try to list just a few things about myself it seems there are never enough words to satisfy the two conflicting parts of my personality at once.

I usually try to spare the world the drama and skip answering questions about myself. Today, despite everything withing me screaming that I shouldn't attempt this I'm going to attempt to tackle the questions that for most people are a breeze to answer.

The Sanguine in me would love to say that her favorite food is chocolate but Melancholy knows it's whatever she's in the mood for that is suitable to the occasion (don't even get started with Melancholy about healthy vs. yummy or she will be forced to retreat to someplace quiet and examine her deep longings for Giordano's pizza)

If it's movies we're talking about Sanguine wants you to know Pride and Prejudice or anything Jane Austen works for her. Yet, Melancholy votes Saving Private Ryan and asks her dear husband not to remind the reader of the fact that he busted her at 1am last week watching said film with tears streaming and in hysterics, to which she could only reply, "I HATE this movie!"

"Then come to bed." Hubby gently suggested.

"NO! I can't!! I HAVE to watch it through the end." (for the umteenth time)

My kids often ask me what my favorite color is. Even that is a tough one for me to answer. I like them all. I don't have a favorite. I am drawn to bright colors. My home is painted with lively hues. Though, when it comes to clothes, Melancholy usually does the shopping. Consequently I wear a lot of black and neutrals.

My music taste varies greatly. There isn't a genre I don't have a favorite artist in. Melancholy loves songs like Not Dark Yet by Bob Dylan or How's The World Treating You by Alison Krauss and James Taylor,

Sanguine wants you to know she thinks the world is a brighter place because Ralph Thamar's music is in it (my favorite song Mi Se La isn't on YouTube but here's a taste of why I adore this man) She also adores English Beat's Save It For Later.

Oh there's more but Sanguine just got bored and is looking for someone to talk to, while Melancholy will be thinking over these things for the rest of the night.

Oh what a mess. I gotta be brave to own up to this stuff.

Movies

The kids watched Lassie tonight. Though, it was no version of Lassie that I had ever seen. It was some kind of foreign production. ( I assume by the accents and the fact that the setting is in Scotland) Our dear Rory was moved to tears at one particular scene of violence when a man beat a dog to death. She was angry and horrified all at once. So deeply moved by the injustice of it all. We had a nice long conversation sprinkled with many hugs and kisses.

She took much comfort in reminding me that even the dogs in this movie were acting and that none of them actually were hurt or dead "in real life". I was glad she was clever enough to think of that herself.

After the kids went to bed Dustin and I popped in the DVD of Evan Almighty (yes, I know we are the LAST people on earth to have seen the film) and enjoyed a laugh or two. The last scene where Evan and "god" are dancing in the field together found me choking back a few tears.

The theme from Evan Almighty which struck a cord in me most was the theme of man's rejection. My skin crawled in the scene where "god" stripped Evan of his regular clothes in front of everyone and revealed Evan before congress in his "Noah clothes". Evan then admitted in front of everyone all that god had told him to do. Everyone mocked him and was disgusted by him.

It was such a dramatic and moving scene to me. Partially because I have, at times and in much less dramatic ways, experienced the angst of sharing what I knew to be God's desire for my life to others and having them look back at me as if I were crazy, laughing me off a bit. Or, even worse, not listening to me at all... just sorta staring right through me as if I were a window. I've been stung by rejection before, to be sure.

Oh yes, and my flesh grew very uncomfortable at that point. Why..... Matthew 16:24 If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. The hero Evan did just that.

If only you could have read the thoughts running through my mind. Trying to determine the breaking point of my pride and the beginning of my willingness to bend my knees to the pleasure of God's perfect will in spite of man's biting rejection. Have I truly done that? Like the Limbo: How low can I go? What am I willing to suffer to accomplish Christ's will for my life?

After heading to bed and praying for the evening with Dustin another old movie was recalled to my mind. The first movie I ever cried over, and a bitter cry at that! The Elephant Man. Whew, talk about a humdinger of a tear jerker! I must have been around 7 or 8 at the oldest. I sat down with my grandma, aunt and mom to the film, which contained themes largely over my head. Oh, but not the rejection, evil and injustice. We all know those when we see them don't we?

It was right at some intense scene of suffering on the part of our dear Elephant Man ( I can't recall the specifics because I never again subjected my heart to such torture as it endured watching that film the first time) and I believe some men were beating him. I am not sure. All I can remember is hating the sheer cruelty of those people mistreating the Elephant man. Hating their insensitivity to his obvious worth and the injustice of it all. That big fat meanies should be able to carry on like that and NOT get spanked was beyond me! I refused to be consoled and was in complete hysterics for at least ten minutes. (probably more, as I've been reminded many times that throughout my childhood that I could really turn the water works on... if ya know what I mean. wink, wink)

Already, by the age of 7 or 8 I had come to understand that the world could be a mean place, that injustice abounded ( just ask any three year old who doesn't get what she wants about injustice!) but I don't think I had ever encountered such a vicious display of it before that point, or if I had I hadn't yet had the ability to recognize it for what it was nor comprehend it. Nope, for me, The Elephant Man was an awakening of sorts. One I have never forgotten.

I don't have the time (especially this early in the a.m.), or quite frankly all the answers to wrap up neatly for myself all the issues I seem to be trying to process related to the themes of these movies and the cords they've struck in me tonight. One thing I am glad of is that now some twenty years later I do have a much greater understanding of Hope and of the Joy set before me which compels me to pray that the Lord would indeed make me to stand firm against my fears and temptations and to take up my cross and follow Him wherever He would have me go!

To me taking up our crosses is what being BOLD is all about.

All the Inspiration I Need!!

Go here then here.

'Nuff said! Now here are some ladies I'd like to meet in person.

This is why I want so desperately to learn Amharic. I am going to be there, among those precious people! How can I not listen and how can I not speak Love and Christ to them!?

Down, Up, Down, Up

It's a work out folks! An exercise of obedience and faith. I've been complaining a whole bunch lately. My muscles are weak, underdeveloped and tired. I'd really like to sit down on the bench and rest for a while but this is LIFE and there is no dress rehearsal. I have developed a little saying for myself in these moments when I feel "weary of doing good." That is I tell myself,
"You'll rest in heaven."

Today I have been encouraged and so I am feeling up. But I am warning you, my flesh is resisting big time and from one moment to the next I may find myself battling hard to take every thought captive and make it obedient to Christ (2 Cor 10:5) I told a friend jokingly that at times I feel spiritually bi-polar, and that is just not a place a follower of Christ should be.

To everyone who commented on my last post thanks for your solidarity. I appreciate your encouragements.

Last night the Lord really spoke to my heart about His authority. I am doing the Beth Moore study Living Beyond Yourself ( I HIGHLY recommend it. It is a study of the fruit of the Spirit and it has been amazing) Beth noted that many times when scripture talks about peace or the peace of Christ it is associated with the rule of Christ.

That struck a cord with me. I have obviously been struggling with those things that are beyond my control. I have been struggling with things that are in the "hands" of other people to do on our behalf. I haven't had peace about those situations because I have been so busy complaining about it instead of focusing on the LORD and relinquishing it under His authority. The fact is He is Lord over everything even SW and HS Corrds. If I find myself experiencing a rub and not feeling peace I think I ought to search for the peace of God which transcends all understanding and transcends all frustrations with Home Studies! (Phil 4:6-7) The thing is, I have had some days where I have been successful at this and some days where I haven't been. The key for me is the CONTINUAL turning over and my personal resolve to believe God to be Who He says He is...for example, Isa 9:6.

I do well when I only focus on Him. As soon as I start looking around and trying to analyze matters of which I know nothing about I fall apart. To all those unknowns in our life right now I have no answer. In this moment across the board in the life DH and I share God is doing a work which I/we both do not fully understand. We have come under some of the most PERSISTENT difficult circumstances of our lives (not just pertaining to the adoption.) All this, I honestly believe, is for our benefit. Intended to grow our character, develop our PERSISTENCE in faith, prayer and hope. It is an exercise designed for learning about Christ's authority and our willingness to yield to it.

Many people in our beloved YG have been praying as the persistent widow did in Luke 18 and I encourage them to continue for I am sure that the Holy Spirit is leading them that way. I know the Lord wants me to persist in trusting Him to be a just God in the circumstances of my life, because He's told me Luke 18 and the widow is about justice and receiving justice. He;s also told me a whopper of a truth! I am already receiving justice right where I am, without any change in my current circumstances. You see, my God is actively being a justice loving /justice providing
God over me at this moment and at every moment of my life. He's leading me. I have been a bit of a resistant bugger but overall, and generally day to day, I am choosing to be led. He is justly choosing to allow me to see His provision... on HIS TIMELINE. He's even blessing me by putting me in a position where He must be my Advocate, Counselor, and He must be my Defender. How blessed a woman am I? And to think I have been such a complainer! Pitiful I tell you!

So today my head is back on straight. The Lord has done a work in my heart (Thank You Jesus!) and I am ready to go once again. Ready to consider it pure joy.... (James 1:2-8)

Blessings and PEACE to you all! With love, Jen

Let me introduce you to this awesome organization

Hi guys! Today I thought I would write about an organization I really value. Dustin and I have been contributing to this organization for over 2 years now. It's the International Justice Mission or IJM. Find it at http://ijm.org.

IJM is a Christian human rights group that fights for justice (as the name implies) on behalf of those most likely to be abused by government. I found out about them via a PBS special about human trafficking. The man who started IJM is named Gary Haugen. He has written a book titled "The Good News About Injustice." Go read it or ask to borrow my copy. It's a good read (not cheerful, but important).

This group is NO JOKE! It is a professional and hardworking organization. They get the job done and are extremely effective in aiding victims. They fight HARD against human trafficking and do a remarkable job. While they get a lot of press for their trafficking efforts they are in the business of helping the poor, widows and children just as the Bible mandates.

I know we all have a building campaign coming up and we are all excited about what we can contribute to that, so I don't write asking you to contribute (unless you feel called to) but please at least make yourself familiar with this organization and let your friends and family know about it too. The season for giving may not be right for you but maybe a freind or relative would be able.

Love to all!
J