I'm Turning 50 Wednesday!

I'm not gonna lie - these last 10 months have been extra tough on my heart & mind. As I have been approaching my 50th birthday, I have been trying to make sense of a lot of different things. My mom died suddenly in her 50s and so turning 50 doesn't feel very fluffy and soft or a cause for any celebration. It feels like a very hard swallow. Like when I could hardly swallow that gluten free graham cracker crust from the yummy cheesecake... 

First, and foremost I am grateful that the Lord has given me fifty years on this earth. I don't deserve another breath not to mention the one I just took! But He continues to give me opportunities to live. And as long as He does - I'm going to try to be thankful for them. And live them for His glory. As my "outer self is wasting away, my inner self is being renewed day by day."   

This past year especially I have known the most joy and the most sadness. I have known injustice like I never imagined. I have felt anger so deep and scary that I don't even know myself for that minute. On the other hand, we have welcomed two of the most beautiful gifts from God into our family - Canaan Jack and Margo Rey. We have watched Zion Elliott and Piper Quinn learn and grow every day! We have been forced to say the hardest of all goodbyes to Chris' mom, Pastor Rick (in Kentucky) and precious Merlinda. So, we have known joy and known sorrow sitting right beside each other. Yet neither took or borrowed from the other. They didn't cancel each other out. They just were there on the same days.

"Where there is pain, let us bring grace.
Where there is suffering, bring serenity.
For those afraid, let us be brave.
Where this is misery, let us bring them relief.
And surely we can change.
Surely we can change.
Oh, surely we can change... something." ~David Crowder

Dear January

Dear January,
     Can I just call you "Jan"? Because January sounds so exquisite and important lingering as I pronounce every syllable. "Jan" just is more like a quick spit out of my mouth taking little effort. I'm not thrilled that you're back. Why must you constantly come around? You have taken so much from me. I found myself staring out the window this morning remembering.

     You took my grandfather way back when I was in the eighth grade. What were you thinking? Middle school was hard enough. Those three years of awkwardness were nearly impossible to recover from. How was a pimple, freckly and brace-faced thirteen year old supposed to understand how my papaw's heart could not recover from an attack? Like it had so many times before! How could I possibly navigate such a blow to my life when the foundations of my faith were still freshly poured? I remember hours of staring out the window asking God how? The grey, cold skies held no answers as to how we would recover.

     You took my first pregnancy. Jan, how could you? I'd only been married a short eight months. I was barely old enough to even begin to comprehend marriage let alone motherhood. We named the baby Eren. Those days are a blur. A blur of days compounded to months of unwanted tears and fears as my hormones took a very long time to come back into some semblance of normalcy. I remember months of staring out the window asking God why? The trees blowing in the wind held no answers.

     You took my mom. Of course, I thought the first two memories were painful, but this one, Jan, you got me good. For sure yes, you got me. You really, really stink. It took my physical body alone almost two years to recover from the blow. Last year was 15 years since that dreadful day. Last year was bad. It was very dark. I couldn't even bring myself to look out the window. I could barely move. I refuse to sit and stare out the window this year for too long. Of course, I will take the grief as it comes - I will not stuff it away. I will feel it. I will let my heart break again and come up through my throat so forcefully it explodes like a volcano. I will let it run down my cheeks. I refuse getting stuck in you old stinky Jan. I'm going to be on the lookout for the beauty in the now.

     January, the three things you took from me were precious. But, the answers the Lord gave me as I sat and stared were priceless and healing. He taught me that He is Sovereign. And He is good. And good doesn't always mean painless. Nothing in life that's worth anything costs nothing. Nothing.

     Psalm 62 became special to me long ago. So, January, I only hope you could know what I found as I sat and stared. I'll tell you what it was. It was refuge. Peace. Salvation. Silence. Life. Protection. Pure love. Steadfast love. Hope. Hope that cannot be shaken by anything...not even you January!

“For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken. How long will all of you attack a man to batter him, like a leaning wall, a tottering fence?  They only plan to thrust him down from his high position. They take pleasure in falsehood. They bless with their mouths, but inwardly they curse. Selah 

For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God. Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us. Selah

Those of low estate are but a breath; those of high estate are a delusion; in the balances they go up; they are together lighter than a breath. Put no trust in extortion; set no vain hopes on robbery; if riches increase, set not your heart on them. Once God has spoken; twice have I heard this: that power belongs to God, and that to you, O Lord, belongs steadfast love. For you will render to a man according to his work.” Psalm 62

Sincerely,

Jen