Taking my writing more seriously has been exciting and scary at the same time. I've woke up with panics over words like platform and book proposal. Yuck.
It's funny how similar those two emotions are, fear and excitement. Because for every fearful climb of the roller coaster, there is also the exuberant slide down.
So here's something fun that has come of this writing adventure I'm on, I've got a website.
James gave me some input here and there, but for the most part, I designed it myself using SquareSpace. If you need to build a website, I would highly recommend it. I even found a coupon, because I'm a coupon loving home school mom.
Please check out my new website www.jenniferllane.com, and give me some feedback. I'd love to know if there is something I could add to make it better.
Also do me an even bigger favor and subscribe to my blog, and you will receive an email whenever I post something new.
Thank you, friends!
This song would be funny if it weren't so true. He nailed it. If you haven't noticed yet, I have an intense love for artsy, weird music.
James just got back from South Sudan on Saturday. I force myself not to worry about him when he is in Africa. I don't want to dishonor God by not believing God is in control of that situation. But honestly, the Holy Spirit makes it easy. Every trip, I have had a peace come over me, and I just know that it is ok.
South Sudan is an important country in Africa to our family. We have a South Sudanese congregation at Citychurch, and James's previous trip has endeared us to that struggling, new country. We pay attention to any news we come across about South Sudan.
One thing that popped up on my FaceBook feed a few months ago was an article posted by Food for the Hungry about the food shortage in South Sudan. Because of all the tribal fighting that went on for the last year, many farmers were displaced and unable to plant their crops. Hundreds of thousands of people are still displaced in UN camps, the city of Juba, or have fled to neighboring countries.
As James was packing for this trip, I kept bringing up these facts and encouraging him to pack more snacks and Cliff bars. I was really worried that he was going to go hungry, like really, really go hungry.
The funny thing is that every single time I got to talk to him on the phone while he was in South Sudan, he was complaining about having to eat too much. I'm not joking. It was a constant stream of meals. One day they went to visit some families in their homes, and he had to eat about 5 dinners.
James was so humbled by this experience. The country is experiencing a food shortage. The people of South Sudan were not getting enough to eat, but they were so intent on making sure their visitors had an abundant meal. The village women all cooked elaborate meals in their outdoor kitchens. The amount of work and monetary sacrifice that went into each of those 5 meals was astonishing.
Shannon Abook lives at the top of Dinka Mountain. They went to visit her husband, but when he wasn't home she brought out cold waters and Cokes for the guys to drink.
Anykol is preparing greens for dinner.
This was Sunday dinner at Simon's home.
This was the farewell meal for the guys. The men butchered the goat and the women prepared food all day to provide this feast as a celebration of sending their visitors back home.
Their were times when James, Donnie, and Lual were taken out to eat. Their restaurants are not as commercial or established as we are use to, but there are restaurants. Our Americans had taken lots of money with them for the trip, but in several instances, one of the South Sudanese men would stand firm that they were paying for the meal. They would lay on the generosity thick in those instances, ordering extra food when a dish would come out differently than the Americans had hoped when they ordered. They would insist on ordering extra items with the meal, like hot teas. They wanted to make sure that their visitors had a wonderful meal, no matter the cost.
These meals made a huge impact on James.
Alueo treated the guys to this South Sudanese restaurant. They ate dried fish, goat, soup, and injera bread.
I just finished reading a book called Neighbors and Wise Men by Tony Kriz. In this book, there is a chapter about this same sort of experience that Tony has as a missionary in Albania. Here is a short excerpt from his book.
"Occasionally I would get a chance to travel to an Albanian village. I am not talking about an outlying city, or even a small town. These were mountainside villages, consisting of only a few hovels....
We would soon find ourselves sitting in a small living space, next to a freshly stoked fire. These highlanders were simple folk but full of honor. Within minutes I had a warm cup of mountain tea in my cold hands. Our business rarely lasted more than a day, and though we were strangers, we were always offered a warm bed. I was treated like a long-lost relative.
Dinner was always, always the best they had to offer. Each time I insisted that they not make a fuss, but there was no discussion to be had. It was easy to imagine that a month's resources were spent on a single meal.
My definition of hospitality will never be the same.
True hospitality pushes past what we can afford to give up and makes deposits in accounts we can never lose."
I'm forever affected by this new definition of hospitality. "True hospitality pushes past what we can afford to give up and makes deposits in accounts we can never lose." That is truly profound.
While James was in Africa last week, I had two opportunities to bless someone monetarily. It was clear God had placed these circumstances into my path, and I knew He was challenging me to give. One of these individuals was a friend and the other individual was a stranger. Looking back on these two times of giving, it is odd that I feel just as good about giving to that stranger as I do about giving to my good friend.
My hope is that I made deposits in that account I can never lose.
I may never have the opportunity to lavish a month's resources on a stranger, but I know every chance I get to show kindness to friends or strangers will be changed after learning this new definition of true hospitality.
"Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ." Colossians 3:23-24 ESV
As usual, I've got a song to share. That's what's up.
*** Here is one last blog post that I wrote for the IF:Amarillo blog. It's amazing to look back at these words I wrote after our first IF:Amarillo meeting and see that God accomplished exactly what we asked Him to do. We did have 500 women and God provided what we needed monetarily, right down to the penny. God is so, so faithful.
Last year I hosted an IF:gathering at my church Citychurch. I really wanted to go to Austin for the first IF:gathering, but I couldn’t logistically do that (i.e. no money for that in our budget.) On top of that, the tickets sold out in a matter of minutes (like less than an hour.) So when Jen Hatmaker posted her blog about IF:local, I was on it. I wanted there to be an IF:local in my city. So I decided I would host one. I put all the details together and kept it simple. I was a IF:one-man-band or planning, implementing, conference hosting woman. I had 12 ladies attend, and it was wonderful. But, here’s the thing. It was small.
A few months ago, I went to a meeting with 5 other ladies. These ladies were just ... I can’t even put words to it. They were IF ladies. I was so thrilled to be among them. We are planning this years IF:Gathering for Amarillo, and we are thinking BIG because God thinks BIG. God invented big.
On the way home from that first meeting, I was thinking about what we had just agreed to. We had decided on budget twice the size of a decent car loan and we had committed to hosting women by the hundreds. My brain doesn’t go to those kind of numbers on it’s own. To my detriment, I think in terms of what I can handle. How much can I bite off? What can I do?
Let me tell you that I’m flat, flat wrong.
I’ve got the wrong pronoun in those sentences. How different is the question when I replace I with He (as in the I Am, He?) How much can He bite off? Um. He baked that cookie. How much can He do? Well. He can, and He does.
I’m so excited to see what God does. I already know what I can do. Just read John 15:5, and it will tell you the harsh truth of “apart from me you can do nothing.” I get excited when I hear God is moving. I want to watch, but not only watch. I want to jump in. If God is moving, I want to grab on. Just like a toddler might “help” his dad move furniture. I want to grab a corner and “help.”
Do you get excited about God moving? If you do, then join in. Jump up and grab on. God isn’t going to put the load on you. He’s doing all the heavy lifting, but He lets us be a part of it. He’s that good and loving Father who knowingly looks down, and expresses His pride in our willingness to help and our willingness to go where He is going.
Come be a part of our BIG IF:Amarillo Gathering. If you haven’t registered, just go do it right now.
“I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” John 15:5 ESV
*Today I met for brunch with my IF:Amarillo ladies. I wanted to post a couple blogs that I wrote for the IF:Amarillo blog here on my personal blog. Here's one I wrote about saying "yes" to God's call.
This might not be good grammar, but try imagining it in a 90’s hip-hop, wave your hands in the air, voice. “The yes don’t stop, stop.” That works, doesn’t it. Sorry. I’ll get serious now.
In February of 2013, I felt God calling my family to international adoption from Africa. My husband and I spent the next several months figuring out “What do we do now?” and “What does this mean for our family?” One of the first things I read about was cocooning. The idea is that you bring your child home, and they are new to the country, new to family life, new to you, ect. Basically everything is new, and you want to kind of huddle down at home and let them bond with you before you take them out into the world which has even more newness. I was excited when I read about cocooning. I couldn’t wait for this to happen. Why? Because I am a yes-er. Ask me, I’m probably going to say yes. I will admit that I run myself ragged. I’m a people pleaser, and it’s a struggle. I loved the idea of having such a deep and wonderful reason to say “No, I’ve got to be cocooned at home.”
We applied for our adoption in March of 2013, and I fully expected we would have our little boy within 18 months. So then I started to be scared of loosing my “yes.” I’ve got a full on “yes” addiction. Two things, I was naive about international adoption and Ethiopian adoptions have slowed and are continuing to slow.
So with my fear of losing my “yes” (The same “yes” I didn’t even want in February.) I thought I better say “yes” to EVERYTHING now because in a few months, I’ll be saying “no” to everything. So I did. I taught home school co-op classes, I led women’s Bible study in my home, I rode my bike in the neighborhood delivering lunches, I planned classes for Citychurch moms, I went to Ethiopia. I could go on because I was high on “yes” saying. My only criteria was, would this advance the kingdom of God at all, even an inch, then “Yes! I’ll do it.”
(Disclaimer here: This isn’t a blog post about priorities of the Christian woman or mother. There are plenty of books and blogs addressing that, and it an important issue that you should wrestle with and lean to God to lead you in the right direction.)
So now it has been almost two years since God gave me that call to adopt from Africa, and I am still waiting on my little boy. We spent the last year on the waiting list and the 10 months prior that completing the home study and paperwork required for our dossier.
Obviously I am still saying “yes” because here I am on the leadership team for IF:Amarillo. But God is also showing me something through this team.
My new friend Kaylie Hodges is also on the IF:Amarillo Leadership team. The first meeting I had to discuss planning this IF:Gathering, she had only been home two weeks from a trip to Uganda to adopt not one little boy, but two little Ugandan boys. She was in the trenches of cocooning. Nevertheless, she was at the meeting saying “yes.”
I was just meeting Kaylie for the first time. So I couldn’t say, “Are you sure you want to do this? Don’t you need to go home and cuddle your boys?”
I’m pretty embarrassed to lay my thoughts out here like this, but that was what I was thinking.
I even thought, “She’s going to have her hands full and need to step down.”
That thought is even more embarrassing!
It has been three months since that first meeting. I want to brag on Kaylie. She’s been one of the strongest links in our team. She’s been hard at work getting the word out about IF, managing IF:Amarillo’s FaceBook, going on Grace Radio, getting this blog started, visiting churches. But even more than the physically working. She’s been spiritually working. She’s never wavered in her faith that God was calling us to plan this event and that He was going to lead us and provide. She’s also been praying over the names of the women who have registered to attend this event. If you’ve registered, Kaylie has been praying for you. That just makes me mushy inside. I love it.
I’ve still got a wait ahead of me before I will have my little Ethiopian boy to snuggle and love on, but God is teaching me that when that time comes, He is still going to need my “yes.”
The other thing I have learned looking back at all my “yeses,” is that the end product of every single one of those decisions was a big blessing to me. I grew and learned and made friends every time I stepped out and did something for God’s Kingdom. It wasn’t something that I gave God. It always turned out to be something that God gave me.
Is there something that you feel God is asking you to do? If God is asking, say “yes.” I promise you will be blessed.
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Matthew 5:6-8 ESV
Today is James's last full day in South Sudan. I'm so happy, so ecstatic to know I will have him home soon. Towards the end of his mission trips, I always begin counting it down, not in days, but in how many more nights do I have to sleep without him here. Today I only have two more Jamesless nights left.
I have two things bouncing around in my head right and I feel like they are smushing my precious brain membranes. One thing is Africa, the things James has told me about his trip and remembering details of my trip to Ethiopia last summer. The other thing is an essay I am writing.
I've agreed to do something that is exciting and a little bit scary. I've registered to attend a Christian writer's conference in April. I have butterflies even as I admit to you that I am going. When I registered for the conference, there was a little box that said "essay contest" and I checked yes. So now I feel like a student again working on an important class project. I get even more butterflies just thinking about my little document sitting on my desktop. I want it to be good. I'm terrified to let that list of respectable authors who are the judges read something I've written. But also, since I'm a type A first born, I want to win the contest. But I also want to wipe off my sweaty hands, slide that document into my virtual trash can icon and just not do it.
My essay is about church unity, because that's an easy nut to crack, right?
So I have these Africa stories and church unity crashing around my little noggin and it's terrifying.
I just thought I'd share. The end. Goodbye.
Not really. I'll elaborate.
Yesterday James and I talked a little about an awful thing that is still happening in South Sudan. It is the practice of men taking more than one wife. He has regularly encountered men on his trip that profess to be Christian that have multiple wives.
It is more than disconcerning. Because this is how I think, I immediately try to put myself mentally in the place of one of those wives. Heartbreak. I imagine physically straining work of caring for my children with a detached segment of a husband. Just plan heartbreak.
James had called me while I was at the grocery store. Yesterday I was standing in the middle of the can soup isle wondering if I could raise an old fashioned Frankenstein-style mob, check our pitchforks because those don't fit in our carry-ons, and fill an airplane to fly over there and do something.
I pulled myself back to reality and asked James questions that I knew he couldn't answer. "What do we do about that?" "How can we make them know that is wrong?" "What do those men do to fix it because they can't just pick a family to keep?" "How do we teach the children not to grow up and do that?"
He feeds me a lot of I-don't-knows and reassures me that the director of the orphanage and school is doing his best to teach the boys not to hope for multiple wives or plan to marry more than one woman.
My mental list of thank yous to God for being born in the time and country I was born in grows increasingly longer.
How do I open a document and write about church unity after hearing about these injustices?
God, please put an end to these chains of sin that bind your people and stop these generational sins that hurt your women. Amen.
With James in Africa, I've been thinking about my week in Ethiopia. While I was there, I felt like everyone was segmented into three groups of people, Muslims, Orthodox Christians, and Protestant Christians. In America, we are just heathens and Christians. Why was it different there? I don't think I met anyone who was just a good old fashioned heathen while I was there. It felt precarious.
I immediately joined team Protestant Christian in my head. It's obvious the Muslims were not on my team, but what about those Orthodox Christians? I've never encountered them before. This was a new question to me. Where they on my team?
I'm still wrestling with this one. It's not where my flesh wants to go, but I feel like the Holy Spirit is pushing me to team unity. At least these questions are slightly easier than that multiple wives question.
I like everything neat, organized, boxed up, and clear. Jimmy crickets. Why can't everything about God be neat, organized, boxed up, and clear?
While I was in Ethiopia I listened to a few sermons by Matt Chandler at the Village church. During a sermon titled "Eccentric and Faithful," Matt said something that I connected so so deeply that I grabbed my journal and wrote down a quote. Here it is.
"Surely you had to know that the Word of God was going to meet you some place that made you uncomfortable. If it didn't, it's not the Bible and He's not God. He's the god of your imagination, the one who makes everything like you feel comfortable. It's just not the God of the Bible. Is this messy and dangerous? --- Like life itself." - Matt Chandler
I'm wrestling with my God. I don't want an imaginary god. I want the real, I Am God. I want Him even if His work is messy. Even if His work is dangerous. Especially when He makes me feel uncomfortable.
Change never comes out of a place of comfort. And change always needed in this world and in me as I strive to be more like Him. He is not messy. He is unchanging.
As much as I would like to think that I have all my thoughts, feelings, and other parts of my self neatly wrapped up and contained in the right places and boxes, the truth is I don't. God isn't the mess. I am.
"Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.
Let the lowly brother boast in his exaltation, and the rich in his humiliation, because like a flower of the grass he will pass away. For the sun rises with its scorching heat and withers the grass; its flower falls, and its beauty perishes. So also will the rich man fade away in the midst of his pursuits.
Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him. Let no one say when he is tempted, 'I am being tempted by God,' for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one. But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.
Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. Of his own will he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures." James 1:2-18 ESV
Thanks for sticking with me even though my thoughts are about as clear as this song and the singing of Alec Ounsworth.
I love comedy. I love laughing. This is the thing about me that my brother Jeffrey and I bonded on most often. Jeffrey loved to laugh too. Like me, he could find humor in almost everything and really nothing was to sacred to escape laughter and jokes. My poor mother became the punchline more than once as we laughed at her doll collection or her Christian movies she bought over the phone. She knew we loved her, but I know she hated when we would start laughing at things she took seriously.
There aren't a lot of things that I got in trouble for growing up, but I do remember getting in trouble for laughing too much multiple times. Jeffrey and I had this in common.
Jeffrey was easily the funniest one in our family. Me and my K-Mart vest
before work, and Jeffrey eating some clearly needed sugar.
This is one of my favorite pictures of Jeffrey because we
laughed and laughed about our perfect caption "bros before hose."
It has been over 4 years since Jeffrey committed suicide, and nothing reminds me of Jeffrey more than comedy.
Last night was the 40th anniversary special for Saturday Night Live. I couldn't help but think of Jeffrey all night. There were so many characters that Jeffrey worked hard to impersonate. He could do a great Adam Sandler voice, and he would often burst into "Sloppy Joe, slop, sloppy Joe" or "Let me water your plants."
He loved Will Ferrell too, and we would regularly reference the dysfunctional family dinner when we were eating together, taking turns yelling, "I drive a Dodge Stratus!"
But both of us agreed the best ever was Chris Farley. He was our favorite. There wasn't a skit or movie that Chris Farley had been a part of that we didn't know front and back. Jeffrey even owned and loved Farley's rarely remembered film Almost Heros.
Lines from Tommy Boy and Black Sheep became everyday slang at our house. And Chris Farley's character on SNL, Matt the Motivational Speaker was the best. "In a van down by the river" and "I'm bunking with you guys" was constantly discussed and imitated.
Which brings me to my teary moment last night. Chris Farley passed away in 1997, the year I officially left home and married James. Melissa McCarthy did a beautiful job impersonating Matt the Motivational speaker last night. It was a beautiful tribute.
As everyone remembered the big guy who made so many happy with laughter, I couldn't help but miss my brother.
Here he is improv impersonating Chris Farley's Tommy Boy song "Fat guy with a little coat" swimming pool style.
I know if he were still alive, I would have been calling or messaging him to ask if he was watching. We would have recapped all the funny parts as soon as we talked again. Most of our conversations began with a quick recap of all the funny things we had seen lately, what movies had we seen, what was funny on SNL or Conan, or what tv shows did we think were funny lately.
Losing Jeffrey to suicide makes things more complicated than a usual loss. There are three emotions that I can't let go of completely and probably never will. These are regret or guilt, anger, and lack of closure or goodbye.
Anytime I think of Jeffrey one or all of these emotions are present. Last night it was the loss without a goodbye that was bothering me again.
The only thing that helps me get through these moments of grief is remembering that Jeffrey is with Jesus now. The other thing that helps is remembering that Jesus knows how I feel.
Whenever I was young, I remember joking (I'm telling you I'm always joking) about how you can easily memorize the shortest verse in the Bible and there's another memory verse done that you can brag about. That verse is "Jesus wept" found in John 11:35. As a teen, that verse was anecdotal and shallowly sweet, but that passage has come to be a deep comfort to me after losing Jeffrey.
The story is a recounting of the death of Jesus's close friend Lazarus. After studying the story, I began to realize all the reasons Jesus wept. He did not weep for Lazarus's death because if we read the story, Lazarus is raised from the dead and brought back to life.
My brother Jeffrey has also been raised and brought back to life with Jesus.
I believe the main reason Jesus was weeping was out of compassion for Lazarus's sisters Mary and Martha. They had just lost their brother Lazarus and spent 4 days morning the loss. It is obvious to me that Jesus has compassion at the loss of my brother, but Jesus's tears are a physical reminder of that fact. Jesus sees my loss and my grief and he responds to it.
The other reason that I believe Jesus was weeping was that, in that moment, he longed to spend time with his friend Lazarus again. He had not said goodbye to Lazarus, and he felt loss. When I long to spend time with my brother and morn my lack of goodbye, Jesus knows how that feels. Jesus has wept those tears.
I praise God that I have a savior that understands my hurts. I praise God that I have a savior that understood Jeffrey's hurts. He loved and understood Jeffrey better than I ever could. He has given Jeffrey forgiveness, love, compassion, and a new life.
"Now Jesus had not yet come into the village, but was still in the place where Martha met Him. Then the Jews who were with her in the house, and consoling her, when they saw that Mary got up quickly and went out, they followed her, supposing that she was going to the tomb to weep there. Therefore, when Mary came where Jesus was, she saw Him, and fell at His feet, saying to Him, 'Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.' When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, He was deeply moved in spirit and was troubled, and said, 'Where have you laid him?' They said to Him, 'Lord, come and see.' Jesus wept. So the Jews were saying, 'See how He loved him!' But some of them said, 'Could not this man, who opened the eyes of the blind man, have kept this man also from dying?'" John 11:30-37 NASB, emphasis added
Anytime someone else does something for God, I get these crazy ideas that it was easy for them. I imagine that they are pulling off ministry with grace and composure.
Those are wacky thoughts. No one serves God without disruption to their comfort and normal life.
So if anyone who attended IF:Amarillo last week has grandeur ideas of how wonderfully I pulled off being on the leadership team or contributing to the event, let me pull back the curtains.
All during IF:Amarillo, James kept asking me when the IF-ter shock would start and joking that he would miss the (after IF) IF-ter shock because he would be in Africa.
Instead of making this a 20 page paper on my shortcomings (because I could go on and on,) I'll make each flaw a bullet point.
My goal here is to show you that it isn't perfect so that you can see that you are capable of being to used by God, even if you don't think so. All He needs from you is willingness and flexibility. Honestly those two things are all you need. He can't use someone who already has their own plan.
I messed up several times at my impromptu job of running the computer at IF:Amarillo. My biggest mistake was skipping a whole piece of session 3. We missed out on seeing a table talk on racial reconciliation that was so amazing. I am still kicking myself. I am hoping that IF will put this part of the gathering online on Vimeo because it sets up this amazing bridge building guide. Here is the blog about it.
Sunday morning at Citychurch, I knew the church would be praying for my husband James before his mission trip. I really wanted to be there. I came into the service, and James brought me Gabriel, our 4 year old, and said, "He's got a fever." He did. His nose was running and he was coughing. I didn't want to leave because I wanted to be there to pray for James. At some point Gabe threw up on me. I went and cleaned us up in the bathroom and came back in just in time to pray for the mission trip. Clearly the IF-ter shock was causing some eruptions.
James was leaving for a mission trip to South Sudan on the Monday after IF. My whole Sunday was spent shopping for and packing bags of supplies for the trip. I felt like a zombie for most of it. Somehow we got it all packed.
We finally got home from packing supplies, and started packing James's personal bags at dinnertime Sunday night. (Can anyone say takeout.) He needed a few things washed, and wouldn't you know it, our washer dies. James looked at it for a long time. He concluded that the pump had given out. James's mom had to come pick up his last minute laundry and wash it at her house.
On ALL of James's other trips to Africa, I've cooked him a special meal and dessert before he left for his trip. This trip he got Wienerschnitzel.
Monday was spent cleaning my house, because it was clear that the quakes of IF had shown to be very destructive at the Lane home. Home schooling was put on hold until we had a clean spot to learn.
I had someone come look at our washer, and he also concluded the pump was out. After seeing the price tag on the pump, we decided to buy a new washer.
I've had my new washer for 3 days, but I am not anywhere close to being caught up on laundry. I finally was the recipient of the cold we've been passing around. James had it, then Andrew, then Gabe (Sunday morning), then Lucy on Thursday, and now me.
I've cooked my kids a real meal exactly zero times in the last week. I did cook for Lual's wife Diana on Friday for lunch. We are going to eat those leftovers now and hope that counts as cooking for my kids.
So those were my after-IF, IF-ter moments, but my biggest fail moment came before IF:Amarillo even started. I had this crazy idea that we could offer childcare to the single women and CityKid moms that are involved with the kids that Citychurch ministers to. I made fliers and told lots of women to just let me know if they wanted childcare, and Citychurch would provide it. I honestly was doing this all rogue. I didn't have a childcare team waiting in the wings to watch kids if moms ended up responding to my invitation. I had talked to one willing dad, but as time passed, and I didn't have really any response from moms, I thought my whole idea was going to fizzle out.
Tuesday night I got a phone call from a mom of some of our CityKids. She was calling me to sign her kids up for childcare. I politely told her she was all set and wrote down her kids' names and ages, but as I hung up the phone, I was like, "Oh no! Now I gotta make sure this happens."
Instead of thinking clearly or even praying (um duh,) I went into a 24 hour melt down mode and tried to convince myself that I really should be babysitting during IF instead of attending. (I now know that I needed to be a IF. It ended up running the computer the whole weekend.)
Once I calmed down and stopped being mad a God for me not having a solid plan in place, I realized that He was in control. He wanted it to happen to remind me that I wasn't in control, that I needed to be depending on Him, and that this was His ministry to women.
God provided an excellent plan for babysitting, Lucy and her responsible friend Madison (who has baby twin sisters so clearly she can handle anything.) They ended up watching 10 different kids over the two days of IF:Amarillo.
So if I haven't scared you off from ever attempting ministry, at least I've let you see some of the un-pretty parts of giving a little of your life to serve God. I know every single one of the ladies who stepped up to host an IF:Local in Amarillo and all over the world has similar stories of mistakes and messiness brought into their lives because they agreed to serve.
Please know that it is worth it. I know every bit of messy houses, takeout food, melt downs that led to greater dependance on God, and the tired, tired, sleepiness for days was worth it. I know because I saw God move in women's hearts. I saw God move in my city. And I felt God move in my own life.
Listen to this song from my favorite whistling rocker. How perfect is it that he talks about doing laundry in a song about taking courage?
*****Here is a post I wrote yesterday for the IF:Amarillo blog. It's up today, and I thought I would post it here too. Only 2 more days until IF:!*****
IF:Table. It’s so simple: 1 simple meal, 6 women, 4 questions, and 2 hours. So why do I get so nervous just thinking about it.
Well it doesn’t take a psychotherapist to figure out the source of my nervousness. It is clear to me that each and every reason I am nervous about hosting an IF:Table is centered around my perfectionism.
My perfectionism is my worst enemy. I want picturesque table settings in my crumb free home with a meal that Giada De Laurentiis would crank out.
This season of my life, that isn’t what IF:Table at my house will look like. Even if I pull off a delicious meal and decorated my table, my kids make more messes in a day than a demo construction team. As I write this, my 4 year old is literally crushing up packing peanuts on my carpet. Oh my. I’m not making this up. It’s happening.
Let me keep writing and get the vacuum out later.
The problem with perfect is it doesn’t exist. It robs us of having sweet, honest, intimate, unperfect moments with other people in our lives.
The other problem with perfect is that it isn’t what people are expecting or even want. If five women sign up to attend my IF:Table and give up a day of their month to attend, they are not expecting to show up to the home version of B. L. Bistro.
Because if they did show up to the perfect meal, decor, and setting, it would honestly be off-putting and superficial. It wouldn’t come from humility or hospitality.
Hospitality is defined as the friendly reception and treatment of guests or strangers. That is all. Nothing about centerpieces or immaculate homes or julienne cut veggies in that definition.
What women are craving isn’t a Bible study wrapped in a gourmet restaurant experience. They want honest conversations about faith and God around a simple meal.
I can do that. You can do that.
Pray about signing up to host an IF:Table at your real-life home. We will have forms and cards at the event to for you to volunteer to host or attend an IF:Table.
“And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts....” Acts 2:46 ESV
Last week my friend and mission trip leader for the August 2015 ACT trip Shelly Wilson posted a blog titled "Why I'm Going Back." She explained all the reasons why she felt that God wanted her to go on another mission trip to Ethiopia this summer, even though she, her husband, and her daughter had gone to Ethiopia last summer.
It was great blog post, and you should totally read it.
This weekend I filled out my application to be on her mission team in August. One of the questions was "Describe why you want to visit the orphans?" and I answered, "I can't imagine not going back."
There are two reason I feel going back isn't even an option for me. One is that my future son is only a drop in the bucket of the orphan crisis.
I've heard this phrase a lot when I tell people that we are on the list to adopt from Ethiopia.
"You are going to change that kid's whole future."
It's true, and I get goosebumps thinking about what God (not I) am doing in our son's life.
But the fact is that their are millions of orphans in the world that will never get the chance to be adopted. If you go with the most conservative number, 17.8 million children have lost both their mother and father. The amount of children that have been adopted in the last decade through international adoption is around 178,000 adoptions. If you make that into a ratio, it means that less than 1% of those orphans are adopted into a family.
More than 99% of the world's orphans will never be adopted.
Knowing that fact, I can't help but do all the big and little things God sets before me to care for orphans that will never be adopted.
Honestly, I saw needs in the orphanages that were not being met. I will continue to try to help meet those needs until I hear an audible voice of God telling me to stop.
It is clear to me from God's word that continuing to try to meet the needs of those parentless children is what we as Christians are suppose to be doing.
The second reason I can't imagine not going back is the book of Acts. If you haven't got out your Bible and read through Acts lately, do it. Do it, and ask yourself it the early church reminds you of your body of believers. Most likely you will see some things you and your church are getting right, but you will also be convicted of some things your church is missing the mark on.
Specifically Acts 4:32-37 where it describes the early church sharing their earthy possessions until "there was not a needy person among them" has really opened some serious debate in my head and made my heart so sensitive to the needs of other believers.
On our trip we met the most beautiful, sweet, Christian family. This family was only a mom and her son, Samuel. They were both HIV+ and living in a 100 square feet home of corrugated metal and cardboard. Knowing that this family and I were part of the same Bride of Christ broke my heart in a way that I cannot explain. This woman was dealing with a serious illness, depression, raising a teenage son with a serious illness, and she was doing it all with less earthly possessions than my 4 year old.
I knew God was taking care of her, and I knew the hope of Jesus was more real to her than most Christians. But now that I had meet this family, these believers in His church, I knew I was responsible to now live my life like I knew about them, no longer in ignorance of their existence.
Faces are covered out of respect for privacy.
If there is anything I can do to encourage my brothers and sisters in Christ in Ethiopia, I feel I have the responsibility to do it. Visiting them is encouragement. Praying for them is encouragement. Giving is encouragement. Our mission trip in August will allow me to do all three of these things.
Now that I've told you why I can't imagine not going back to Ethiopia again this August, think about if you can image going. We have 6 people who have signed up for this trip, and I know God has a few more He is calling to go along with us. Let me know if that might be you.
I hope I can be the kind of friend you call when the rice is running thin.
***I wrote this for the IF:Amarillo blog a few weeks ago. I thought I would post it here. Only 4 more days until we will gather for IF:Amarillo!***
I’ll start out by telling you that I’m a goody, goody. (Do you remember being called that? Or calling someone that? I don’t think kids say that anymore, but they did back in the day.)
I got saved when I was 12, and I don’t have one of those “wild seed” testimonies. Sometimes I’m even jealous of those of you who do.
There’s no smoking, drinking, or drugs in my past. Both of my grandfather’s were abusive alcoholics. So I sore off drinking even before I was even a Christian. After my life progressed into a life of ministry at Citychurch ministering to kids and teens, drinking just didn’t fit the ministry God gave me. No judgement. I just don’t.
I married the first guy I dated. Even more goody, goody, I married a home schooler. Our pre-married dating was not Duggar-extreme, but it wasn’t far off.
I could keep playing “I’ve never” game longer, but I’ll get to the “I’ve.”
Worry.
Worry has been the biggest struggle for my in my sin life from day one. It’s my fleshly goto response to almost any situation, good or bad. (That’s right. I can even worry about good news.)
Here’s the thing about worry. It’s a big sin. Definitely bigger than all those “big” sins this goody, goody girl avoided.
When I worry, I’m telling God that I don’t believe He can handle my problems. When I worry, I am living like an atheist would live. I’m breaking God’s first commandments about worshiping Him and only Him.
So what does this have to do with IF? A lot.
Let’s plan an event for 500 women. My response, 500 worries pop in my head.
So let me take you back to the Jan. 4th IF:Amarillo Leadership meeting. How many women do we have signed up? About 38. Has anyone donated money? No.
Bam. Worry overload.
It’s been about a week since that meeting, and God is moving. Women are responding. We have a little money in the bank.
You would think it would be easy not to worry now. The tides are turning. But I’m good at worry.
I’ve learned that I have to physically, mentally, and spiritually decide not to worry. I have to stop myself as soon as it starts and make my brain head in the other direction.
It’s like a Christian guy faced with a Victoria Secret ad. If they are doing the right thing, they’re going to stop and flee like Joseph.
Worry is the mistress I have to flee from.
Do you have something you are worried about? It’s not easy to stop and flee those thoughts. God will reward you for trusting him. He loves giving us Faith. He has an endless supply to handout to us every time we need to trust Him.
Faith is the antidote to worry. Fortunately for us, Faith is the exact thing we will be learning more about at this year’s IF:Gathering. All of the IF sessions will center around the life of Joshua and his incredible faith in God’s promises. You won’t want to miss it.
“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world.” I Peter 5:6-9 ESV
File this song under "world's most popular artist that you've probably never heard of." James made me watch a whole documentary about the Swedish House Mafia selling out festival size concerts all over the world. I still don't understand the extent of mass appeal this band has, but the song is pretty catchy.
I'm a little sleepy right now. I messed up my night of sleep with a 5am "parenting panic." Please, please someone comment that you've had at least one of these, so I can know I am not alone in my craziness.
Parenting panics hit me about 2-5 times a year. Let me describe what my parenting panics entails. Basically, I wake up from a dead sleep somewhere in between 3am and 6am in panic mode about one of my kiddos, convinced that there is something I'm getting wrong parenting wise. I lay there unable to go back to sleep. Sometimes I'll pray. Sometimes I wake up my husband. (Please feel sorry for him. 5am parenting convos. Isn't he the lucky one?) Most of the time I snoop on their electronics. I check their phone or computer history. I feel bad for doing it, that I am am not trusting them more. Then I try to remind myself that a good parent would monitor their internet, right? Usually I feel better about 30 min. to an hour later. I go back to sleep. The end.
My kids ages are really spread out. My oldest is 16 years old and my youngest is 4. I've been told that the teenage years are just the second toddlerhood. It's true, but yet it's not completely true. And it is so hard to navigate the when and where of giving freedom and setting down rules. It is fuzzy for me, and I like black and white.
Yesterday I did something I don't usually do. I bought fruit snacks. Back when my oldest was a toddler, I thought I was good at reading food labels because I had been to Weight Watchers, and I bought fruit snacks all the time. Now I know those things are just candy. But yesterday my 4 year old's eyes lit up at the store and I said, "Yes, but you can only have one pack a day."
We get home and he throws his 4 year old fit over the fact that he only gets one pack. We talk it over again, and he finally understands that he is only getting one pack a day.
I wish you could see him run in first thing this morning, one sock, wet pull-up, hair standing up like he's all electrical current, running and yelling, "I want a fruit snack."
He knew he could have one today, and he was going to blow his wad first rattle out of the sack. I had to laugh.
Right now my 16 year old is at her public high school, and when she gets home, we are going to have a "parenting pow wow." (Anyone have those? Come on, I know you guys do.)
This parenting pow wow is going to start with me admitting I was wrong. We had a parenting pow wow Monday in which we told our girl that we thought she was old enough to take responsibility for her online class that she is taking to make sure she graduates on time.
Really what was going on was I was tired of doling out reminders to do her online class the same way I am doling out those fruit snacks, one pack a day.
We tried giving her freedom (because I wanted my freedom,) and my 5am parenting panic was me realizing she wasn't ready for it. That I had handed it off because I was tired of being the watchdog, but she's 16 and still needs a her mom to nag her into doing the right thing. Ugh. But I hate being the nag.
Having a teenager is hard. I would wish for them to stay 4, but that age is hard too. (I need to tell you my 1am scissor scare story from last week.)
You can also feel sorry for my middle child, because he hasn't even been mentioned.
I kid, but, honestly, I married a middle child,
and they are the best. I'm an oldest, and usually I'm
more sick of myself than Jan is of Marcia.
Parenting is a real job, but you don't get to go home from it. Right now I need to remind myself about GRACE. Because I need some grace now. I need some grace at 5am, and I'm going to need extra grace at my afterschool parenting pow wow today.
I have Psalm 145 marked in my Bible as one of my goto parenting scriptures. I love that verse four says, "One generation shall commend your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts." ESV
It is our main job as parents to commend the Lord and make sure that our children, the next generation, will also commend the Lord and declare His mighty acts.
Gosh, that's it? Easy peasy. Um. Not.
So I am thankful that Psalm 145 verses 8 and 9 say, "The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. The Lord is good to all, and his mercy is over all that he has made." ESV
Thank you, God, for your grace and mercy. Boy, do I need it. Help me to be more like you, Lord, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
Enjoy this song from the Parenthood series finale last night. I've loved this song forever. James and I played it during our slide show at our wedding. If you don't think Bob Dylan is the best songwriter ever, I will strongly disagree with you until my dying day.
When my husband James was growing up his parents told him the funniest lie. Are you ready for this?
Beer is made out of horse pee.
It's so hilarious because it is totally believable. It looks like it could be true, and almost every beer tv commercial in the 80's featured a cowboy or a running horse in a field. And just think of the froth.
James's dad hated beer. He had come from an alcoholic home where his dad would leave for periods of time to party and come home mad at everyone. He said he would always be gone for nearly a week and then come home in a new pair of Levi's, kick the furniture around, and yell at everyone, "Where in the hell have you been?"
So the beer = horse pee lie probably seemed like a good idea.
Just like the old summer camp lies of lean on the counter and you'll get a rash or pee in the pool and it will turn blue, it's prevention of behavior through silly dishonesty.
So when James started telling our kids that beer was horse pee at an early age, I went along with it. Because funny trumps almost everything in my head and I'm not a fan of beer either.
Just like James and his brother and sister, our kids totally believed it. Our oldest, Lucy, is a smart one. She figured out our falsehood pretty quickly. Our middle child, Andrew, doesn't question things the way Lucy did. Which lead to a pretty awkward family reunion encounter. Sorry, Aunt Jackie!
Aunt Jackie (with horror on her face and a beer in her hand): Did you tell him that beer was horse pee?
Andrew: IT IS!
Me: Um..... I did. Well. Um.
I still feel pretty bad about that one. But it was funny. And funny trumps almost anything, Right? If you know my Aunt Jackie, I think she probably agrees with me. She laughs more than anyone I know.
Now that you know I lied to my kids about beer, you probably think I'm a parenting genius or a you might be considering reporting me to CPS. Either way, my kids are going to have a pretty tough time not thinking about horse pee the first time someone offers them a cold one.
This morning I woke up and poured my heart out to God in intercessory prayer for my friend Courtney. She is having surgery this morning to have her right thyroid removed. She has a growth, and the biopsy was inconclusive. As I am writing this, they are removing the thyroid, and then they will be able to tell if it contains thyroid cancer.
Courtney's son is my son's best friend. This fact makes these events strangely familiar.
My daughter's best friend's mom had the same surgery five years ago. Her mom's name is Terri.
So whomever my youngest son decides to choose as his best friend. I feel it would only be fair to warn that boy's mother to keep an eye on her thyroid.
I will never forget the day Terri called me to let me know that she needed her thyroid removed. I vividly remember being outside cleaning the above ground pool when she called. I stopped and just let my feet be in the water while I let this serious news sink in and quizzed her on the details of her needed surgery and the possibility of thyroid cancer.
The news that Terri could possibly have thyroid cancer was an even deeper sting because of Terri's circumstances. Terri's husband Sal was in the very advanced stage of early onset alzheimer's. Terri and Sal were a few years older than me, but he was very young to be at the stage of alzheimer's that he was at. It was very certain that, unless God performed a miracle, the girls would be losing their dad soon. The girls needed their mom.
So I was praying to God even as Terri was giving me the details on the phone, begging God to take the cancer off the table.
Terri told me that because of the timing with insurance coverage, she was going to have to postpone her surgery until she had enough cash to pay for her thyroid to be removed. I had God on three way, and I was telling Him that this was unacceptable. If she might have cancer in that thyroid, it needed to be removed as soon as possible.
God answered all of those prayers. God provided the money for her surgery. And although the thyroid did have cancer, Terri has been cancer free for years. The girls lost their dad very soon after that surgery, but they have had their mom.
So I remind myself that God can answer my prayers this morning as I intercede for Courtney.
Courtney's circumstances are different than Terri's but also quite sober. The same week Courtney realized that she had the growth on her thyroid, her daughter Sydney, who was having digestive problems and stomach pain, was given the a diagnosis of pancreas cancer. Cydney is only 19, and it is extremely rare form of cancer.
Intercessory prayer is not an easy thing. We are selfish and self-absorbed creatures. Sometimes we don't take other people's requests seriously. We hear their requests and weigh the need in our mind before we take it to the Lord. We decide how much God, how much faith, how much prayer the request needs.
I'm extremely guilty of this in the classes where I teach children. They raise their hands and ask for things like "my grandpa is sick" and "my dog ran away." Well how old is your grandpa? How sick is he? How long has that pet been gone? Do you have other pets?
If I'm honest with myself, I do this with adults too. I see prayer requests on social media all of the time. Sometimes I drop to my knees, and sometimes I hit like and send up a "Yea, answer that, God."
Sometimes we are just to immature to understand how serious a request is. I remember when I was just a teenager and an adult friend from church called to tell me about his dad's cancer. The conversation went on for quite a while, and as he was talking, I got sucked into the tv show that was playing in the background. Not one of my proudest moments, but my immaturity is my defense. I had no scope of the seriousness of what this man was going through.
Imagine the maturity and wisdom Cydney will have after God brings her through this trial at such a young age.
Yes, intercessory prayer is hard, but it is beautifully gratifying. Although we naturally are self-involved, it feels wonderful to pray for someone else and watch God answer those prayers. We get to be the cheerleader, the wall watcher (Isaiah 62:6-7.) We get to take our eyes off ourselves and become invested in what God is doing in our neighbors lives.
Can I ask you to do something for me? Enjoy this worship and pray for Courtney and Cydney. Pray that the thyroid will not contain cancer. Pray God will heal Cydney. Pray for her surgery on February 12th. Pray for Courtney's husband Chris. This is a tough time having both his wife and daughter facing serious illness.
"You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many." 2 Corinthians 1:11
UPDATE: I received a text from my friend Courtney. It was noncancerous. No more surgeries. No more meds. Just healing. God has answered prayers.
Yesterday I did something fun and rewarding, but it also made me realize I'm still such a brat. James and I got to go shopping for supplies for him to take on his mission trip to South Sudan. This is James's second trip to South Sudan, and he will be staying in a school that also houses orphans living in the capital city.
South Sudan has captured my heart for a few different reason. The first one is that God used James's first trip to South Sudan two years ago to call us to adoption. That trip changed the course of our lives. Every decision we've made in the last two years has been put through the filter of our adoption.
My brothers and sisters in Christ. This is the church James attended in 2012.
The second reason I love South Sudan is that we've made friends with the South Sudanese refugees here in our city. Lual and Diana Majok are on fire to reach and disciple our city of Amarillo. They are an inspiration to me.
Watch this video to meet Lual (He's at 4 1/2 minutes in.):
Doesn't Diana handing out tracks and videos to Muslim refugees at her job at Tyson foods inspire you? It does me! She's amazing. I wish you could meet their five smart and beautiful children, too.
The third reason I have such a heart full of love for South Sudan is the stories I've heard of the Lost Boys and of their tribal wars. Most recently, I've been inspired by this movie that was released this year. If you haven't seen it, you need to watch it. (Make sure you have some Kleenex handy!)
Clearly I love South Sudan. I love the people. I love the children. I was excited to go to the store and buy goodies, medicine, and other things that would meet the physical needs of the children that James will be ministering to on his trip.
School and orphanage in South Sudan. This is where the supplies are going.
Let me tell you where the problem came shopping last night.
I was walking around Target, and I couldn't stop myself from seeing objects I wanted. It was complete ridiculous. I was buying bandaids and pencils for orphans, and I couldn't help looking at stuff that I wanted.
I need for nothing, and these children need for almost everything. Oh but the dishes. And the pillows. And the hair products. And all the cute things. I'm looking around thinking, that would be so perfect on my desk?
What is wrong with me? Why am I still so wrapped up in consumerism? I've spent the last few years reevaluating and realigning my materialism, and I'm still so easily sucked in.
After reading Jen Hatmaker's book Seven: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess in 2012, completing the study and fasts from her book in 2013, going to Ethiopia in 2014, I am still struggling.
I'll tell you what my problem is. I'm a sinner. Romans 3:23 tells us that we all have sinned. I'll never measure up.
This is what Jesus told me to do:
"Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Matthew 6:19-21 ESV
And He said:
“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money." Matthew 6:24 ESV
But I am looking around Target at earthly treasures and loving them. Why can't I just treasure those sweet little South Sudanese children? Why can't I just treasure my Savior?
Well, I'm repenting here. And I am asking the Lord to continue to sanctify me. I want to serve God and not money. I want to be a slave to obedience and not a slave to sin.
"What then? Are we to sin because we are not under law but under grace? By no means! Do you not know that if you present yourselves to anyone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one whom you obey, either of sin, which leads to death, or of obedience, which leads to righteousness? But thanks be to God, that you who were once slaves of sin have become obedient from the heart to the standard of teaching to which you were committed, and, having been set free from sin, have become slaves of righteousness. I am speaking in human terms, because of your natural limitations. For just as you once presented your members as slaves to impurity and to lawlessness leading to more lawlessness, so now present your members as slaves to righteousness leading to sanctification.
For when you were slaves of sin, you were free in regard to righteousness. But what fruit were you getting at that time from the things of which you are now ashamed? For the end of those things is death. But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 6:15-23 ESV
You may be thinking, "Jennifer, you are being a little hard on yourself. It's ok to decorate your desk and home. We need stuff to live." Let me tell you, I was there. I felt where my heart was, and it was wrong. This is such a battle for me, but I am going to continue to strive to please Him. What Jesus asked us to do was radical and challenging. It was black or white. It was something I'll never completely get right here on Earth, but giving Him my whole heart is something to aim for. Striving to serve only Him is a worthwhile goal.
