God Calls Me Jen

So, a few years ago I read Eat, Pray, Love. Mostly it made me want to travel. But I was also kind of fascinated by the whole meditation part. We are told to meditate in scripture, but I don't know many people who do it. I didn't. It seemed too new-agey for me. But I decided to try it. At that time I was so burdened by life. There were so many questions and so much waiting and so much on my shoulders and weighing me down inside and out. And I'd already learned the hard way to not ignore the stress, but to deal with it. And what better way than to slow down and meditate? So one morning after Arrty went to work and the kids were still asleep, I sat on my bed and closed my eyes and tried to block out all my thoughts of to do lists and human worries. I breathed and focused and breathed some more.

And suddenly I was standing in the presence of God! I was there before the Creator of the world but I couldn't run to him and throw my arms around His neck like I wanted to! Because my hands were full of stuff. Crazy stuff like cups and books and papers. And hanging on my arms were bags of more stuff. On my back were backpacks full of who knows what. There was even stuff tied to my legs and trailing behind me. I wanted to talk to Him, but I kept dropping all my stuff. And I was so worried about stopping and picking up and balancing all the stuff. I felt helpless. And embarrassed. And I didn't know what to do. So I looked up at Him and I didn't have to say a word. In an instant, He knew my heart and mind and soul. And He looked at me and said, "Jen, put it all down. Put all the stuff down. Just let everything go."

Then I opened my eyes. It felt like a really clear dream...but more than a dream. My heart was pounding and my eyes were wet with tears. I was a little shaken. It was so real. And true. After that I was able to put some of my stuff down. And my heart and soul were lighter. And even now, when I start to feel overwhelmed, I remember and am able to put the stuff down. Because He told me I needed to. And so I choose not to carry the things that weigh me down. And I am better for it.

Was it a dream? Was it more? I choose to believe the latter. And because of that, I am better. Which is what God does for anyone who chooses Him. He make us better.


I wrote this post in February of 2013, but never posted it. Now, almost 3 years later, I feel like a different person. I can let go so much easier. And I'm glad to say that so many of those burdens that I held that day are gone. He took them or I dropped them with His help. Either way, my walk is lighter. 

I remember this experience like it was yesterday. It really did change me, as strange as it might seem. I still often hear His voice telling me to "put it down" and see His face smiling His patient and kind smile. I have to admit that I haven't purposefully meditated since that day, but I do often imagine myself at the feet of God when I pray. And now, whenever I hear Him speak to me, He calls me Jen. 

14

35 years ago today, Mt. St. Helens erupted in Oregon and forever changed the landscape of miles and miles of the northwest.

And 14 years ago today, my middle baby was born and forever changed the landscape of my heart.

This kid. This kid is indescribable. He's just someone you've got to meet to begin to understand. But here's my best shot at describing him.
He is hilarious and has been from the beginning.
He's smart in so many ways, which makes his funny that much funnier.
He is sensitive. He cares about people and their feelings.
He absolutely can't fathom why one human being would hurt another.
He is single-minded. Once he gets something in his head, it is not budging...and neither is he.
He loves football! Like crazy loves football! Watching, playing, studying, learning...and he's determined to play in the NFL. (I hope he makes it because he's promised to pay me back the $175 I spent on him to play junior tackle last season when he gets signed.)
He's a good big brother and plays with his little sister even though he might rather be doing something else. He's a good little brother but don't tell him I said so. He'll deny it.
He is handsome...blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smile that can melt any heart.
Some people think he's quiet...he's not.
He loves to have fun. He's always wanted everything to be fun, much to his mama's chagrin at times.
He can simultaneously make me laugh and want to ground him for all eternity.
He says that pretty much every meal I cook is his favorite meal ever. And says thank you after eating it.
He has been shown numerous times how to do his own laundry, but inexplicably still can't do it.
He is taller than me and loves to remind me of that fact every day.
He is the apple of my eye and my own little volcano.

Happy birthday, Adam. I love you with every ounce of my being.

Jake and Piper

I fully admit that I'm not really an animal person. If I come to your house and you have a pet, I will give it an obligatory pat and move on. I will not pick it up or encourage a relationship of any kind with it. Don't get me wrong. I love animals in general and am fascinated by God's creatures. I just don't feel a bond or responsibility to treat them like a person. (Sorry, animal people.) Unless, apparently, it's my own pets.

I've discovered over the last twelve hours that I can in fact form a bond with animals...if they live at my house. Last night when I got home, I found out that our dogs, Jake and Piper, had once again escaped their pen. They have a rather large area to run and play, but every once in a while they like to run off for an adventure. They hadn't gotten out for a long time since Arrty and the boys had fortified their fence. But Monday night Jake started barking like crazy and trying with all his might to get out. I figured that there must be a wild animal in the woods by our house and Jake wanted to get to it...probably to play. Both dogs finally pushed through the gate. They ran on to the porch and we put them back in the pen and Josh fixed it so that it couldn't be pushed open so easily. But then last night at the same time, Jake wanted out again. They were able to find a way through a weak spot in the fence and went on their way without us knowing. Arrty called the sheriff's office to report them missing at about 6:00 and drove around looking for them with no luck. At 11:00 we got a call that two dogs had been hit by a car about a mile from our house and that they fit our dogs' descriptions. Arrty drove up there and sure enough, it was them. Both hit. Both gone.

I'm sad about it. Sadder than I expected to be. I confess that I said just recently that once Jake and Piper were gone, I'd never get another pet. But I thought it would be a while. Jake was ten years old, but still healthy and active. We got him when he was two months old and he was the cutest little chocolate lab puppy ever. Piper was about five years old. We adopted her from the shelter when she was eight months old. She was border collie/beagle and was so sweet and helped keep Jake young. Losing both of them at the same time is terrible. Just sad and terrible.

The kids are doing okay with it. And I'm doing okay this morning. Arrty is the one having to deal with the aftermath and taking care of them, so he's having a harder time. Keep us in your thoughts today and give your pets an extra pat for me.

10 Things Thursday

10 things that were most definitely NOT invented by teachers.

1. Silky shoe laces. When a student walks in and excitedly shows me his new shoes, on the outside I tell him how cool they are, but on the inside I am evaluating the laces and calculating how many times per day I will have to tie them. It seems to me, after all these years of wearing shoes, humans should be able to invent a lace that will stay tied.

2. Double layered coats. Sure, they are warm and those layers might come in handy if you need to take them apart to have a lighter jacket. But from experience I can tell you that those layers do not work for little kids. The sleeves get all jimmy-jacked every time they take their coat off. Every. Single. Time. And fixing them is too complicated for little hands. So at this point, I am an expert on the sleeve adjustment process.

3. Gogurt wrappers. Gogurt itself is genius. Yogurt that you can suck out of a tube and don't need a spoon for?! Perfect! It's the wrappers that are the problem. The "tear here" message and slit is too small or too high or nonexistent on at least 75% of wrappers. That is why I have a pair of "gogurt scissors" on my desk.

4. Apple sauce cups, pudding cups, and fruit cups. Again, good idea in theory. But the little tab that is supposed to be there to lift and pull is usually too small for little fingers. And so you know what they do? They try to use their teeth. And then when that fails, they ask the teacher to open it. And she has to make a new rule that if it's been in a mouth she will not open it. Or she caves and does it anyways and gets kindergarten spit all over her hands and has to wash her hands one million times per day.

5. Scented markers. Not a good idea at all. First they smell them and have polka dotted noses. Then then taste them. They taste the markers, people!

6. Fancy pencils. There is always a fight about who gets the sparkly pencil or the one with kittens or the one with stars. Shoot, they even fight over the one with the gold metal band at the top instead of the silver metal band. It's true.

7. Fleece lined gloves. It takes about three recesses for the thumbs of lined gloves to become impossible to get a thumb into. The lining only matches up in the fingers for that long. Then they might as well be mittens.

8. Pizza lunchables. This is the messiest (and grossest) of the lunchable family. No teacher in her right mind would give a five year old a plastic packet of tomato sauce and a cup of grated cheese and expect anything less than floor to ceiling mess.

9. Plastic zippers. They stick. They break. They split. And then the kid is stuck in the jacket. Or has to figure out how to get in and out of it with it zipped. It can be done, but it's not easy.

10. Light up shoes. Because all a bunch of 5 year olds needs is another reason to jump and kick things. Light up shoes are toys. On feet. That the teacher can't confiscate and put in the "confiscated toy drawer." Thanks for that, shoe makers. Can't you use your powers for good...like inventing shoe laces that stay tied?!

Extreme

I always wonder about people who put bumper stickers on their cars. I tend to think that they are people who talk a lot. Share everything. Discuss politics and religion and all those things that you have to be careful with in mixed company. Maybe that's not true of bumper sticker people. Maybe it is. I really don't know, because come to think of it, I don't think I know anyone who has a bumper sticker on their car.

I often read bumper stickers and try to figure out what kind of person drives that car. Sometimes the stickers make me laugh. Or think. But mostly I wonder what in the world someone was thinking when they stuck that sticker on their car. There are bumper stickers that I dislike. The ones that insult politicians...whether I voted for them or not. The ones that put down other people's beliefs...whether those beliefs are mine or not. The ones that use bad language...because little kids who are learning to read, read everything...and big kids read everything, too.

Today I saw a bumper sticker on a big, green truck today that said, "Extremely Rightwing." Really? Just what does that mean? And just what does this person want me to think about them? Am I supposed to make assumptions about their political beliefs? Am I supposed to honk if I agree...or if I don't? Should I assume that we couldn't be friends...or that we could be best friends? Am I expected to be moved to become extremely rightwing, too? I just don't know what the purpose of such a bumper sticker is.

Maybe I just don't understand being extremely anything when it comes to politics. I'm slightly on the right, I suppose. But I'm okay with those who aren't. If you and I were having a conversation about something and you asked me my opinion, I'd tell you. But the person driving behind me down the highway or stopped behind me at a stoplight, do they really care what I think? I don't think so.

There are some things in my life that I feel extreme about. I feel extremely protective of my children. My inner mama bear is lying, ready to pounce on anything that threatens my cubs. And I am extreme about the love I have for my husband. After 22 years, it is a comfortable, safe love. One that will last forever because we are both extremely dedicated to the life we've made together. I am extremely thankful for my family, the ones who live under my roof and the ones who don't. We are extremely blessed to have each other and the relationships we share. I am extremely happy about the sister-friends God has put in my life. These girls are the best...really, the absolute best. I am extremely loved by God, Creator of the universe. And I try to love Him extremely in return.

So, yes. Extreme exists in my world, I suppose. I guess I just feel like "extreme" should be reserved for kind, loving, good things. Things that unite us as people. Things that divide us should not be extreme. They should be...what's the opposite of extreme? Mild, moderate, slight? Or even less? Is being rightwing uniting or dividing? I'd have to ask someone who is to know for sure. Are my extremes uniting? I hope so.

So if you ever see a bumper sticker that says all of that, let me know. Maybe I'll stick that one on my minivan. But probably not, because I'm not really a bumper sticker kind of girl.

Really?! Boxes?

A few months ago, Arrty was reading a book given to him by his boss. It's called "Leadership and Self-Deception: Getting Out of the Box." Sounds exciting, right? Well, when he was almost finished with it, he asked me if I'd read it when he was done. He said it was really good and would be good for me to read. Uh-oh. I told him that maybe I would while secretly figuring he'd forget about it and I would escape reading a book with both "leadership" and "self-deception" in the title. But he didn't forget. And every time he saw me reading something new, he'd ask me if I'd read his book yet. No. No, I hadn't. Even though there was a really sweet pink post it on the front that said, "Jen, please read. I love you!" Really?! Leadership? Self-deception? Mysterious boxes that I should get out of? I had absolutely no desire to read it. So I didn't. Until finally I did. Arrty noticed a new book that I had begun reading and asked me again about his book. I told him I didn't want to read it. I don't like non-fiction. There were so many other things I wanted to read instead. But then he pulled out the big guns. He reminded me that I read all kinds of books that my friends give me. Why wouldn't I read the one he gave me? After briefly considering "losing" his book, I realized that he was right. Sigh. I wasn't being fair.

So later that evening, I sheepishly went into the bedroom and picked up the book. It's written like a conversation between a man and his boss. Not your typical leadershippy style of writing. And I was getting through it pretty quickly, which was helpful. But then something strange happened. I started to get it. The whole thing about the leadership and the self-deception and the boxes. I was getting it. If I tried to tell you about it, I wouldn't get it right, so I'll just give you the gist. Every person that we come in contact with just wants to be seen as the person they are. But many of us, me included, often see people as objects that are getting in our way...on the roads, in line at the store, at our workplaces. But if we thought about others as people with their own hopes and dreams and goals and not deceive ourselves into thinking that our hopes and dreams and goals are more important than theirs, we'd all be better off. The guy driving too slowly in the fast lane might have had a recent car accident and is anxious about driving and is in the fast lane to avoid having to change lanes at his exit. The lady in line at the store who is using 23 coupons and is taking forever maybe only has enough money to pay for her groceries if she uses all those coupons. And the workplace...which for me is filled with 5 year olds...can be especially challenging. Every shoe I tie. Every question I answer. Every hand I guide to perfect letter writing. Every single one represents a person. A person someone loves and cherishes like I do my own children. A person with hopes and dreams and goals...and bright futures. And more than that, a soul on his or her journey through this life. Wow! That's big!

And all of this also translates to family relationships. Do I treat those I live with as their own person or do I let my needs/desires/selfishness get in the way and allow myself to see them as a hindrance. This hit me like a ton of bricks when I thought about it. Do I? I know I love my family with every fiber of my being. I cook and clean and shop for them. I spend what seems like every ounce of my energy on them. But do I deceive myself into thinking that my actions justify my feelings. Oh. My. Goodness. It was put to the test a few days after finishing the book.

If you know me at all, you probably know that I hate homework. Hate it. I give my students very little and only that so that their parents can see what they're learning. But the school the boys go to does not share my aversion to homework. So the boys have at least math every night. If you read my post about Adam, you already know he has some trouble with focus, so for him, homework is a long, drawn out fight to the finish. Sometimes he wins. Sometimes I win. But really we both lose, because four nights a week pretty much all he does all evening is math and pretty much all I do is sit with him so that he can focus enough to get it finished. When I was thinking about the way I treat my family, this situation came to mind. Because I know, I know, that in the past I've felt very bitter about having to do homework instead of my own chores or reading or playing Bubble Shooter. And I've said so...loudly. If only he'd get more done at school. If only he could focus more. I blamed him. Or his teacher. If only she'd give them time in class to work. If only she'd give them fewer problems. If THEY would only change, MY evenings would be so much easier. Now if that isn't self-deception, I don't know what is. So that night, when I wanted to huff and puff about homework, I took a deep breath and thought about how Adam is my child, whom I love with all my heart. Not about the books or the time or the what ifs. And guess what? We finished his homework without anyone screaming or crying.

This new way of thinking has carried over into all areas of my life. Now if I begin to get frustrated or impatient, I think of my box and that whoever is standing in my way is a person, not an object. It has helped me slow down and think through my feelings and actions. It's not easy. As a matter of fact, I texted Arrty one day shortly after finishing the book, "Dang boxes! I like my boxes! I don't want to be nice!" His reply, "Crickets." As in, "I'm just going to be quiet about that." I guess he has learned a thing or two over the last 21 years, after all.

If there's one thing in this world that we have to deal with every single day of our lives, it's other people. And it's hard. But it can be easier. By getting out of my "me" box and thinking of others as people, souls, I have been more able to be patient and kind like I should be. Like I want to be.

Why I May Never Go To Another Secular Concert

On Saturday night, January 11th, I took Josh, Adam, and their friend Sam to the Rock and Worship Roadshow in Spokane. (Arrty was going to go, but had to stay home and play Noah in the flooded basement.) I bought the tickets for the boys for Christmas and we were all excited about it. But I have to admit, that once the time actually rolled around I was wondering if it wasn't meant to be. There was the flooded basement and backyard. There was the driving to Spokane in 5:00 traffic. There was the taking three teenage boys to a sold out arena by myself. All of those things were enough to make me second guess my decision. But the boys were excited about going and under all the anxiety about it, I really wanted to go, too.

 So we loaded up the van and headed west. The line to get into the parking lot was long and slow. We decided to park at the back of the parking lot and walk to the arena. Which was the right idea, because the rest of the parking lot was crazy. Once we got in and found our seats I had time to take a breath and take it all in. I know that there are bigger arenas than the one in Spokane, but there are a lot of people in there at a sold out show. A lot of people. Which led to some deep breathing and self talk to keep myself calm. Once I located all the exits, formed a plan of escape if I needed it, and convinced myself that I wouldn't go deaf from one concert even though I forgot my earplugs, I relaxed.

And now here's the part where I began to realize that I may never again go to a secular concert. The show started with a prayer. At which time I recalled the verse from Matthew that says,

"And when two or three of you are together because of me, you can be sure that I’ll be there.” 

Well, there were certainly two or more of us gathered. And we were there because of Jesus. So, guess what! He was there. Maybe he was the guy sitting next to me. Or the little old lady three rows down. Or the teenage girl in front of me. Or maybe he was just everywhere. In every heart. And His peace that passes understanding came over me in a group of thousands of people where I would have normally been fighting a panic attack the whole time. He was there.

When the show started, I admit that I did wonder what I had gotten myself into. The first band, We As Human*, was loud. And hard. And I confess to asking Jesus right then and there how he felt about that. But then I listened harder to try to hear the words through the noise. And there He was...Jesus. And no matter what it sounds like, He loves to hear us sing His name. And throughout the night I continued to be convicted that everyone, no matter how they look or what they wear or how they choose to praise the Lord, every single person is loved by Jesus unconditionally and completely. And any one of those people is free to love Him in return.

After that, the night just kept getting better and better. The second band was The Neverclaim. They have kind of a southern rock sound. And I could understand most of the lyrics, which was a plus. Their song Mighty Jesus is amazing! That's when I finally knew I was in the right place.

Next was Royal Tailor. I kept thinking that they were the "boy band" of the bunch. There was even a moment of synchronized dance moves. They were really good, too. And I was surprised to learn after the concert that they were among my boys' favorites of the night.

Before or after Royal Tailor (my memory is foggy from the extreme volume), was Andy Mineo. A hip-hop, skateboarding, rapping artist from New York. He rode his skateboard on stage which was really weird when I couldn't see his feet but just him floating across the stage. He rapped about Jesus. And he jumped about Jesus. And he had thousands of us in the audience doing it, too! Josh especially liked him since he is the hip-hop fan in our house.

Then we saw a worship team from Columbia called Soulfire Revolution. They had a unique sound and a more intimate performance on just the front of the stage.

One of the headliners was Third Day. I had heard a few of their songs on Christian radio and had certainly heard of the band, but didn't really know what to expect live. I was pleasantly surprised by their performance. They were easily my favorite band of the night. The lead singer has the kind of voice I like to listen to. Deep and smooth with a little bit of a growl. And their whole sound was perfect for me. And then they did a short acoustic set while the stage was being reset. When they led the audience in an acoustic/acapella version of Blessed Assurance, I was sold. I loved it so, so much. Gotta love the acapella!

The last act of the night was Skillet. (First of all, where did they get their name. I must google it.) Skillet rocks! That's all I can say. In every sense of the word. I'm usually not a big fan of the hard alternative style of music, but there's something about Skillet that made me okay with it. They are great performers, too. They had a violinist and cello player who were amazing. And a stage with sections that would rise with different performers standing on them. Lights and smoke created a real "rock" atmosphere. I think I will check out some more of their music soon.

So now back to the reasons why I may never go to another secular concert.

Reason 1: Prayer. Nothing makes me feel more like I belong than prayer. And I can honestly say that I've never felt like I belonged at most of the other concerts I've gone to. But I belonged that night. We were all there for the same reason: to rock and worship.

Reason 2: Worship. I can't even explain the feeling of worshiping with thousands of people. It had less to do with the music or the singers than with the presence of God being there. You don't get that at secular concerts.

Reason 3: Security. I didn't have to worry about what was going to flash on the screens for my teenage sons to see. Or what was going to be blasted at them from the speakers. I'm not naive. I know what's in the world. But I will try, for however long I can, to let them be kids and keep them, when it's in my power, from being bombarded with worldly sights and sounds.

Reason 4: Safety. I didn't have to worry about the people around me. Knowing that we were all brothers and sisters gave me a sense of safety that made my night easier. And since they weren't selling beer, I didn't have to worry about having it spilled on me by the guy sitting behind me. (It's happened before.)

Reason 5: Jesus. That's reason enough for me.

All in all, the night was a roaring success. The boys had a ball and I was encouraged to see that all kinds of people who praise God in all kinds of ways are all in this whole Christianity thing together. All of us Third Day people can stand beside the We As Human people the Andy Mineo people and worship together. And isn't that how it's supposed to be. Because I sure think it is.


*The way We As Human had their name written on their set was very hard to read. So until about halfway through the concert when I saw it written more clearly, I thought they were called Weashu Man.