TREASURE JARS

I sit and watch my grandson's Momma rub her belly and I watch her smile as she dreams of his future. My heart sings. And not so long ago I was just like her, rubbing my belly and dreaming big dreams for my little ones.

I wondered what kind of grown-ups they would be. I wondered what their laugh would sound like. I wondered where they would go and how they would contribute to the world. I wondered what it would be like to have empty seats around the dinner table. I wondered about who they would give their hearts to.

Today I look in the mirror and I don't have to wonder much any more.

Motherhood is a sweet journey, brutal and beautiful. As a Momma, I will never stop dreaming for my kids. And when the Bible talks about Mary, Jesus's Momma, it says she treasured things up in her heart. I never really understood that until I had little ones to love.

I have a jar of treasures I keep in my own heart, and I save them for the sad days.

And then there is this; Mother's Day can be a sharp reminder of things lost and broken. Today there are Mommas who are aching and weeping over lost dreams and broken treasures. They have empty laps and empty arms and no one brings them flowers. And I've been thinking about this today, and I realize there are few things that can fix a Momma's broken heart.

But Mommas are tough. They grit their teeth and they set their eyes on hope. They believe the best about their children, even when they shouldn't. They weep and celebrate and worry and cheer. And on the sad days they remember the treasures buried deep, from days long ago. And in quiet moments they take them out and they squint and hold them up to the sky until the light shines through. 

Today, if you're a Momma, I wish you a jar full of treasures. May you find shiny, colorful moments that will last you years and years and years. And may you find peace, even in the broken places.

"I remember my mother's prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life." - Abraham Lincoln

THE NARROWING

Romans 5:1-5
Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we've gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

This post isn’t for everyone.
It’s just for You. You know who you are.

The one who can’t catch your breath between this crisis and the next.
The one who looks back at the last few years and sees stress, heartache, sleepless nights, weary days.
The one who hears things like “You’ve got to be kidding me. Again?” and “How can I help?”, over and over and over.

I’m with you. I know.
Oh our lives might be different,
but I know.

It might be the loss of a business, a crippling diagnosis, the despair of a loved one, a devastating betrayal, a long term illness. It might be deep, deep loneliness or regret or anger. It might be a mountain of debt, a tunnel of isolation, a pit of depression. You might not be able to put a name to it. Anyway, you’re too weary. The floor is constantly shifting beneath you. You feel like you’re in some kind of Willy Wonka madhouse, and the room is getting smaller and weirder and your old life of comfort and peace seems like someone else’s story. You can’t retreat to the dreams you used to dream, if you even dream at all.

My Mother-in-Law calls this The Narrowing.

Suffering leads to perseverance. 
Perseverance to character, 
character to hope.

 The Narrowing: It’s how you begin to feel a new heartbeat. It’s how you discover what’s really important. It’s where you find meaning.

It’s when Someone takes a hammer and a chisel and begins to chip chip chip away at what shouldn’t be there. It’s when Someone sees the masterpiece that lies beneath the rock, and He won’t stop until the excess lies broken and dusty on the floor. It’s when, slowly and deliberately, chunks of the old you are chiseled away. Pride, self-preservation, comfort, greed, gluttony, and all other things dark and heavy. Those things you don’t speak of. Those things you fear and hate the most. You know.

You know something needs to be done. You know those things will cling to you
unless Someone takes up the hammer.
I’m with you. I know.

But oh my friend, listen to me. There is discovery here. There is a language spoken only by those who have been broken, chiseled, narrowed. Hope wins. And love is poured into our hearts; poured carefully and generously until we overflow with the deep and the wide love. And then! Oh, then it spills over into lives all around us.

This life we’re called to; this life of following Christ—It’s a narrow road. And we are a people who have been called to be narrowed.

So persevere
and press into hope
until His Spirit pours love into your heart
and it spills over into the lives of the broken
and you truly learn what it is
to be narrowed.

Hebrews 12: 1
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us…

FIREWORKS

I admit it. I'm a total 'story' geek. Movies, books, movies made from books - it doesn't really matter. 

Sometimes I quote dialogue and recap scenes so much my friends and family just roll their eyes. 

But I like to frame scenes of my life that same way. 

I can't help myself.

Last week, some stuff happened and it reminded me of a scene from one of my favorite stories.

And once again I was reminded.

 Sometimes God sets off fireworks.

Just because He can.

And in those moments I cheer and jump and delight in the one 

who holds my future in his hands, tenderly and skillfully.

And all I can do is just stand with my mouth wide open and adore Him.

Because He is good.

I think He just chuckles and delights 

in the fact that I am delighted.

And I love Him all the more for it.

So the next time God sets some fireworks off for you, let everyone know about it.
And take time to delight in Him.
He delights in you. I promise.

THE BEST IN THE WORLD

I was just thinking this morning about how awesome it would be if we each picked something we were good at and worked at it like this girl.
Just imagine the hours of practice, the focus, the determination it takes to get to this level.
What if you took one thing you loved and you stopped at nothing to master it? What if I ignored the awkwardness of people saying "You do WHAT?!" and I just went for it? What if we all cheered for our quirky, creative selves and embraced the pursuit of anything done with excellence?
Now THAT would be something, wouldn't it? And I wonder...what could God do with gifts honed with excellence?

JUST LIKE PEANUT BUTTER

This is my friend 'Annie'. I'm not sure about the sketchy character next to her, but it's rumored to be her man. :)

A while back Annie decided to stop talking about ways she could change the world.

She decided to live out her faith and find out what it means to just LOVE.

She and the big guy started doing stuff like hanging out with homeless people at Hawthorne Park. They would grab a few friends and as she tells it, "put on a spread".  And she isn't talking about hot dogs and cheap coffee. This is how she describes it: 

The Gospel Spread (nice name eh?) is about showing Jesus' love to a hurting world. I want to "put on a spread" as my foodie family would say, each week, like I would for my own family. I want to meet Jesus in the park and serve him with the best food, the best hospitality, and the best smile. I want to lavish love on Him through thoughtful cooking and conversation, Martha Stewart style. Whatever we do for the least of these, we do for Jesus.

 Yesterday Annie heard about this.

 

And today Annie bundled up both of her babies, collected gifts and money from her friends, 

and headed to the hospital with her pal Angela. 

They both pestered hospital staff until they were allowed to see Mr. Singleton.

Today Annie delivered 2 backpacks full of good stuff to a guy who is in agony. 

They met his Grandma. They met his nurse. 

And they showed Mr. Singleton he is loved and he matters.  

Today I learned what it looks like to just LOVE. 

Even if it's uncomfortable.

Even if it's awkward.

Today Annie told me she got to spread the love of Jesus...just like peanut butter.

Yes.

Just LOVE.

WHERE I'M HEADED

...that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death... Phil 3:10

 

One of my goals in life has been to avoid suffering. I hate it. I hate to suffer and I hate to see people suffer. I avoid it at all costs. I'm just being honest. I told a friend this morning,

"I'm sensitive to suffering. I'm just not made that way."

Lie.

The truth is, I like to be comfortable. I like to be safe. I don't want to see or experience suffering. It's a drag. It's annoying sometimes. It sucks the life out of me. It makes me sad.

But I'm learning that sometimes the only way to

secret, holy places

is through suffering.

How can I truly know the POWER of the resurrection

if I skip over the part about Christ's suffering?

Some of us have grown up talking about the resurrection of Jesus 

as if it were just another story in the Bible. 

We've lost the sense of astonishment, wild excitement, heart-pounding joy 

of a Warrior King who defeated death and ransomed our very lives.

Tomorrow I'm taking a trip and meeting some women who have suffered beyond anything I've ever experienced. I will be receiving some training and volunteering in a shelter for women who have been rescued from sexual trafficking. I'm leaving tomorrow, and I have no idea what this will look like or what I will learn. But how can I refuse? 

I am determined to share in suffering this weekend. 

I will share in suffering because I know 

there is POWER in the consuming fire that is God's love for humanity.

I don't often ask for prayer on this blog, but if you're a praying person, today I am asking for it. And I'm wondering...

Have you ever walked through suffering yourself?

Have you ever walked through it with someone else?

How did that impact you?  

MY LIFE COACH

This is Emily. She's four. We share the same last name, and she calls me Aunt Jenna.

Last weekend she coached me on some things:

• Tic-tac-toe is best when played in the dirt with sticks. (Be creative. Use what you have.)
• Never be too busy to stop and feed your horse a dandelion. (Give to others.)
• Sometimes you just have to take a minute and play in the sand box. (Take time to have fun.)
• No counter is too high for a short girl with mad climbing skills. (Don't give up because it's out of your reach. Find a way.)
• Big bottoms are good because you don't have to hold yourself up to keep from falling in the toilet. And they look good. (Our bodies are a gift and they're beautiful.)
• Sometimes asking more than once and smiling sweetly and saying pretty please actually works. (Don't give up easily.)
• Gathering eggs for breakfast is an adventure. (Find ways to make work fun.)
• Long white gloves and cowgirl boots go with any outfit. (If you love it, wear it. PERIOD.)
• A fort is best when stocked with root beer and a good book. (Everyone needs a 'fort' of some kind. Get away and be quiet.)
• Pretending you have no teeth is a great way to sing the alphabet. (Take time to be silly in your everyday life.)
• A sofa-jumping session is good for the soul. (Your body was made to move. Don't just sit there!)
• Dramatic sobbing makes you feel better. (Just let it out, baby. Tears can be a gift.)

Feeling stressed out? Depressed? Lazy? Insecure? Overwhelmed? 
Go find yourself a 4-year-old life coach.  

 Sorry, Emily's not available. I've booked her for the next several weekends.

BECOMING A BENTON

I've been thinking today about this beautiful woman. She's the mother of the man I love. Oh so many years ago when I started dating her son (when hair was bigger and the economy was stronger and cell phones were the size of toasters) she must have looked at me and died a little inside. I was a girl with a past. A reputation. A sad story. I know she must have had dreams for her youngest son. I know at first I probably wasn't one of them.

But from the moment I met her, I knew I wanted her to love me. 

MERCY

This is Krystle and Clotide. Krystle sells fair trade products (including beads handmade by Clotide) for a company called Trades of Hope. Krystle is in Haiti right now, visiting some of the artisans and learning how the products are made. Krystle says Clotide's children are able to attend school because ordinary people like you and me buy her beads. 

JUSTICE

Sometimes I can't sleep. I close my eyes and I see families drinking from dirty puddles, children growing up in foster care, young girls lured into the sex industry by the promise of love and belonging. I see teens advertised online, feeding the consumerism of the sex industry. I see young women supporting their families by selling their bodies, I see children born into brothels as the sick cycle continues. The list goes on.

JUSTICE.

My heart longs for it. My mind races with thoughts and ideas, stories and solutions.

But I'll be honest with you. I'm just an ordinary person. Justice is too big for me. I can pursue justice alone, but true justice happens when people come together and fight for it. True justice happens when a community says enough is enough, and they invest in a solution.