Renewal

Weathering Seasons of Change

“I will bless My people and their homes around My holy hill. And in the proper season I will send the showers they need. There will be showers of blessing.” ~ Ezekiel 34-26 “There shall be showers of blessing; this is the promise of love; there shall be seasons refreshing, sent from the Savior above. Showers of blessing, showers of blessing we need; Mercy drops ‘round us are falling, but for the showers we plead.” ~ There Shall Be Showers of Blessing ~ Baptist Hymnal 1956 “To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under Heaven.” ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1 “To everything, turn, turn, turn, There is a season, turn, turn, turn, And a time to every purpose under Heaven” Turn, Turn, Turn Lyrics – The Byrds ~ 1965   In the mid-1960’s the folk-rock group, The Byrds, made popular a song whose lyrics were taken almost verbatim from the Bible from the book of Ecclesiastes, King James Version, although the sequence was rearranged to fit the melody. When I hear it, I think of seasons of life…past, present and to come…and I reflect on what I’ve learned. Autumn is my favorite season and we are in the throes of its beginning for this current year. I’m not exactly sure why it’s become my favorite over the years, but it has. In fact, for me, there’s something fascinating about the changing of every season that causes me to sit up and take notice. I suppose that Winter into Spring, the shedding of dormancy into new life, is the most obvious seasonal change. After all, what compares to new beginnings and rebirth? Less apparent I think, but not less important, is the morphing of Spring into Summer. This continues the growing season, the time we take advantage of light and warmth to prepare for the colder months ahead. These are the lazy, hazy days of Summer-fun coupled with rest and relaxation; in a very real way, the calm before the storm. We plan, plant, water and nurture, day after day and week after week. We know if we are diligent, a harvest of bounty awaits us at the changing of yet another season, one in which we’ll need the fruits of our Summer labor to carry us through, to sustain us when life is colder, darker, more bleak…a time when it’s up to us to lean on and utilize the provisions with which we’ve been blessed. Whether a harvest of fruits and vegetables ready for preserving, or the blessing of strength and health that permits us to work so we can be warm in winter: Cutting wood for fire, knitting or stitching warm blankets and clothes, or the good health to attend to the work of our employer or business for steady income. After laboring comes our harvest, the yield of blessings we reap from sowing and nurturing during those prior seasons of growth. But “therein lies the rub,” a common phrase reminds us. We have to “make hay while the sun shines” another admonishes. The opportunity to care for ourselves, being good stewards of our resources, may pass us by if we’re not careful to take action. I don’t know about you, but in my depressed (and often anxious) state, this is much easier said than done. So that is the topic that concerns me today; how do we transition during the changing seasons and circumstances of life? Right now I’m doing what is called “writing in process.” It means I don’t have it all figured out and I’m not exactly sure where my words will take me. I’m thinking and writing concurrently. I know there is something deep down that I need to figure out for myself, and maybe help you along the way, but I don’t have the answers just yet. So I’m talking to you as I type, hoping that will help, the way chatting with old friends and baring our souls often leads to seeing challenges in a new light or helps us begin to understand something that, until now, has escaped us. Fall is a slow fade into dormancy…not death, but dormancy. And in times of hardship, that’s the hope because dormancy doesn’t last forever. It will pass. But for now…there’s a meme that floats around social media this time of year that declares, “autumn is about to show us how beautiful it is to let things go.” I don’t know the origins of this phrase, but it is usually accompanied with photos of falling leaves of yellow, orange and red, some being tossed by the wind and others laying in piles beneath barren trees. And every time I scroll across these words, I find myself in awe. It’s such a simple, yet profound truth. And isn’t that the way truth is? It sometimes eludes us, even for long periods of time because maybe, just maybe, we make it too hard. We rack our brains trying to wrap our mind around life’s circumstances, and try as we might, there often seems to be no answer. Then suddenly it’s there. Maybe not a complete answer, but a beginning…somewhere to start. Let go… The simple thought crosses our mind. It’s like a whisper, but from where?  And there is a subtle “knowing” deep in our soul.  “Your ears shall hear a word behind you saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.” (Isaiah 30:21) Let it go… There it is again, a little more emphatically. You feel the muscles in your hands relax as they loosen their grip. You breath quickens and you hear the gentle rustle of the air, as that thing you’ve held tightly to for so long wafts to the ground. Your heart races as it surrenders to change. When that thing…that stubbornly held belief, or the insistence of control over something no longer yours, the toxic habit that was never good for you, or the relationship long since dead…when it hits the ground there isn’t a thud. Instead there’s a

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Rest, Renewal, and Letting Go

Have you ever second-guessed yourself? Have you ever wondered if decisions made in the past were the right ones? While I know reflecting on past decisions does no good because they cannot be changed, even so, that’s where I’ve been the past few weeks. Reflecting. Seeking. Praying. It’s very quiet in my house right now. The only sound is the whirr of the ceiling fan above me. I look out my window to see an overcast, gray sky and the grass in my backyard turned to yellow as it has gone dormant for the winter months. The temperature has dropped and leaves are falling from my dogwood tree. It, too, is preparing for its long winter’s nap. Seasons change. The grass and trees are doing exactly what God created them to do. Last Spring, new leaves and new grass emerged from their slumber to remind me that although things change, God brings renewal. Now, those same leaves and grass from last Spring have accomplished what they were created to do and are dying back in order to get ready for their reemergence next Spring, renewed, refreshed, and beautiful. It all seems so effortless. God’s beautiful and amazing creation knows exactly what to do each Spring and each Fall. No one has to tell them when to emerge from the ground or return to it. It’s just how He created them. They just do as their Creator instructs them. Oh, that life could be so effortless from a human stand-point. To just be and do as our Creator instructs us. But God did not create us with a seasonal pattern that we follow year in and year out. He created us for fellowship. He created us for relationship. He created us with a mind that can think and reason and relate. He created us with an innate desire and urgency to seek Him. But He also created us with a free will. A free will to choose His path or our own. A free will to seek a relationship with Him or pursue our own selfish desires. He created us with emotions. To feel contentment when all seems to be going well or to feel concern when someone we love is hurting or is sick. To feel love for another so deeply you can’t imagine life without it then feel pain so tangibly when forced to do so. To be grateful for all God’s blessed you with yet feel sadness for what was lost or what could’ve been. We are emotional beings. There are situations that happen to us in this world we can’t understand and bring us to our knees yet somehow we know God is in control. There are decisions made in the moment we think are the right ones and trust God with the outcome. We go about our day to day lives, doing our best to be a witness and an example of the gospel of Jesus to those we come into contact with. We do our jobs with diligence and integrity in order to bring God glory and to pay the bills. We raise our kids and set an example for them to emulate so they can then pass those same convictions on to their children to carry on a legacy of knowing Jesus and making Him known. Over the past five years, I believe I have experienced every emotion common to the human heart, at least once. Emotions ranging from being ecstatically happy and content to being the most broken and devastated I have ever been. My heart has known both incredible happiness and incredible loss. Such it is with living life on this earth. Life is not without its ups and downs; good days and bad days; good seasons and bad seasons. What makes the difference in these ever changing life situations is how I choose to look at them but also, how I choose to deal with them. It’s very easy to choose to stay down and depressed because somehow this brings comfort to my humanness. To wallow in the why’s and what-if’s of yesterday as opposed to embracing where God has placed me now. Embracing the present has been difficult, I have to admit. Because embracing the present means I must let the past go. Not forget it or the lessons I have learned from it but to store it away in my heart as a season that is gone forever, cherish the good memories, and realize God is ready for me to move on to the next one. Oh, how much easier it would be if God had written how to do this into my DNA when He created me. That the ever changing seasons of life would come as easily to me as they do to my grass and my tree. But that’s not how it works. Instead, in my humanness, I experience life as it comes, sometimes being effected and influenced by the life-choices of others, filtered through the hand of my Creator, in order for me to turn my eyes toward Him for His strength, His guidance, and His will. That is, if I choose to do it that way. Sometimes I don’t and I opt for the pity-party or the wallowing-in-the-past scenario. But I’ve learned I don’t always realize I’m wallowing until I open up and share my heart with another to help me sort through the myriad of emotions I’m feeling. I have learned that letting go is also a process; just as healing is. Earlier this month, I took my first vacation of the year. I usually head to the mountains for solitude to enjoy God’s beautiful creation, write, read my Bible, and rest. This year was different. With the cost of everything being higher these days, I decided on a stay-cation. There were stacks of boxes I’d moved from my old house that had been piled up in closets and in the garage from when I moved into my new house five years

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From House to Home

What makes a house a home? Is it the structure itself or the people who live there? Does it have a white picket fence, an immaculate landscape, and a two-car garage? Does living in a grand, affluent neighborhood factor in? Is there any difference between the two at all? I started asking myself these questions after the last session I had with my counselor. I didn’t realize it but, apparently, I mention the retirement house I built with my former spouse fairly often during our sessions together. She asked, “What is it about that house, Jennifer?”  I couldn’t answer because, at the time, I simply did not know. Then she asked another question that caught me a little off guard. She asked, “How did you feel on your last day there?” Actually, I’d never given it much thought. Since then, I have gone back through my journals and found what I’d written about my last day in that house. 1.17.2018 I moved out today. I cried but I sure didn’t expect to. I said goodbye to those two crazy dogs and I cried. I’m not a dog-person but they’ve been part of my life for so long. It seems strange to realize that I won’t ever go back there and that some other woman may actually sleep in my bed. I feel homeless and like I don’t really belong anywhere but Jesus had no place to lay His head so I count it joy to share in that with Him. Praise God for my kids to take care of me. I’m exhausted and need sleep…my body, my mind, and my soul are weary. I just need rest, Jesus. Help me find rest in You. Goodnight, my Jesus…help me rest… I have to admit, I was a bit surprised I’d written so little. You’d think after living there for nine years, it would’ve been a bit harder to leave behind. Perhaps the reality of what was actually happening hadn’t quite sunk into my head or my heart yet. Looking back now, I realize that even though we called it “our retirement home”, it was never really home to me. It was just a house. It was his house. It never really felt like mine. I tried to decorate it so it would reflect a bit of my taste but it never looked right. It always felt empty and cold. It was not inviting nor did it feel comfortable. It was just a house. When I look at pictures of it now, the word that comes to mind is excess. As you can see in the picture, it’s pretty grand. It looks much bigger than it actually is due to how high it sits off the ground. During construction, we learned there was a huge slope on the lot so it ended up being eight feet off the ground. It’s actually a ranch-style house with a bonus room over the garage. From the outside, it looks like a 5,000 square feet house but the main floor was only like 2,400. Guess looks really can be deceiving. Just like my marriage and my ex-husband. Seems fitting the house was a total deception as well. Perhaps that was part of the hold it had over me. Everything about my life back then was a deception. I looked up the definitions for both house and home. The differences are quite telling. House – a building that serves as living quarters; a building in which something is sheltered or stored. Home – a familiar or usual setting; congenial environment; relaxed and comfortable; in harmony with surroundings; a place of rest. A building in which something is sheltered or stored. Those words describe my existence in his house exactly. I was sheltered there, had a roof over my head, and was stored for his (ab)use. He wanted me in the house to wait on him hand and foot while he was actually there but when he was gone, I was stored away, like a broom in a closet or a utensil in a kitchen drawer. I existed there for his comfort and convenience only. He didn’t want a wife. He wanted a servant. This is my home now. Not grand by any stretch nor perched atop a hill for passersby to oooo and ahhh over but to me, it is my refuge from the world. This is the quiet place God surrounded me in as I healed from heartbreak. The foundation is inscribed with scripture and everything within its walls wreaks with praise to my heavenly Father. He has blessed me beyond measure and I am thankful for every brick, every nail, every baseboard, and every windowsill. There are times I look around and cannot remember exactly how I ended up here. While I very clearly remember going through the events leading up to and after the divorce, the exact details are kind of a blur. The only answer I have is God took care of everything and I moved in four months later. A few weeks ago, God gave me the answer to my counselors question of why the house on the hill still occupies so many of my thoughts. Just when I think my comfort zone has been stretched to the max, God takes it one stretch further but His timing is always perfect. It was Sunday morning and I went to church as usual. My Sunday School class was having a luncheon right after church and I am happy to say, I actually wanted to go. That, in and of itself, is a huge sign my heart is healing. I don’t usually venture too far away from my home, especially to a social event, so this was a huge step for me. Anyway, due to some unexpected events, I ended up running late for the luncheon. The church is very near my previous house and the quickest route to the restaurant was to drive down the very highway it is on. I have purposefully avoided

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Dig Deep

Have you ever had a moment in your life when you felt the Spirit asking you to take a leap of faith? Not just a step but an actual leap? A leap into the unknown? A leap into a place that’s completely out of your comfort zone? It’s been over four years since I felt that initial urging to take such a leap and I’m so thankful I did. Looking back now, I didn’t have a lot of choice. I could’ve stayed and fought for a marriage my ex had already said he didn’t want to remain in or trust God and leap out into the unknown. I don’t remember consciously making the decision to leap. I only know I felt being in the unknown with God was a much better place to reside than staying in an abusive marriage with a controlling, adulterous, narcissistic man. God rescued me by asking me to take that leap of faith. I didn’t know I needed rescuing at the time and could only see loss and heartache in front of me. I’m so thankful for the God who sees. Jehovah El Roi.  It really doesn’t seem possible that I’ve been on this  journey with Jesus for as long as I have. Sometimes I have to stop and pinch myself to ensure this life He’s given me isn’t just a figment of my imagination. He has blessed me beyond measure since I stepped off the edge of that metaphorical cliff and into His hand. He has provided for every single need. When my divorce was final, I truly didn’t think I’d survive it. I’d never been more broken and alone. Obviously, I didn’t know then what I do now, but grief is an unpredictable emotion. It makes you feel, do, and say things you thought you never would. The past four years were fraught with many tears and much pain. However, I can also say I’ve experienced plenty of joy along the way as well. Sometimes stepping out into the unknown can be scary but when you know Jesus is there, fear is dispelled and peace ensues.  Spring is in full force here in the South. The grass is turning green again and the plants that have been dormant all winter are, once again, popping up through the dirt and springing back to life.  I have always enjoyed having a beautiful yard to look at but have NEVER enjoyed yard work. I still don’t, to some degree. It doesn’t matter if it’s pulling weeds, edging, or simply mowing the grass. Those are things that make me sweaty (especially in the humid South), dirty, and exhausted. But God has given me a new perspective and has changed my attitude about that, as well as a lot of other things.  And it all started with a little dogwood tree. I moved into my home in March of 2018. At that time, I had so much healing ahead of me, it wore me out just to think about it. My days were spent at work for eight hours then coming home and falling into bed, completely exhausted and overcome with heartache. However, on the weekends it was time to take care of my yard. God blessed me with a beautiful home and I was determined to be a good steward and take care of it to the best of my ability. Which included taking care of my yard. I have an average size front yard, but the back is much bigger. It’s mostly grass but I have made a small garden area right outside my patio door, complete with plants that don’t need a lot of attention. They basically pop up through the dirt at the beginning of Spring and look good until they die back and go dormant for another winter season. They’re very low maintenance which is perfect for me. I’ll never forget the first time I mowed.   I purchased a lawn mower and an edger to assist in my newfound effort to keep my lawn beautifully manicured. I’d helped with yard work during my marriage but was never completely in charge of it and really wasn’t expected to be. (Truth be told, I really didn’t want to be.)  Looking back, I really took it for granted that someone else always did the yard maintenance. I’m thankful I paid enough attention, from time to time, to have a little bit of knowledge as to what it took to mow the grass and maintain a yard. With that being said, I knew absolutely nothing about maintaining a lawn mower. Gas, oil, spark plugs, air filter, engine…Ugh! Some assembly was required before I could start mowing. It was a daunting task and I was getting a bit anxious over the whole thing. I thought it would be easy to put together by having a picture of it fully assembled on the box as a guide. It was not! So, I found the owner’s manual and sat down to read each step before continuing in my effort to assemble my new gas powdered piece of machinery.  I have no idea how long it took me to get the mower put together but, somehow, I managed it.  I was ready!  It started with the first pull of the cord! Guess the owner’s manual is put into the box for a reason after all! : ) As I started walking back and forth over the grass, suddenly, giant tears welled up in my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. I had no idea what brought them on but, as I’ve said before, grief is an unpredictable emotion. It comes and goes with no warning. I stopped mowing and sat down right where I was. Right in the middle of my half-mown yard.  “This is not fair, Jesus. Why do I have to be in this place all alone? Why don’t You send him back to me? I don’t know how to do life on my own. I shouldn’t have

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Something of Value

He said I had no value.  “Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?”   ~ Matthew 6:26 ESV What does it mean to value something or have values about something? I think it would depend on the object or objects in question. Wouldn’t you? I looked up both words: value/values. Each returned the same exact results. The word value(s) has several meanings. the monetary worth of something. a fair return or equivalent in goods, services, or money exchanged. relative worth or importance. the relative duration of a musical note. relative lightness or darkness of a color. However, let’s say you’re defining the value of another person in your life. What does it mean to value your spouse, your children, or a dear friend? I scrolled down a little further on the definition for both forms of the word and here’s what I found. something intrinsically valuable or desirable. to rate or scale in usefulness, importance, or general worth. So, to value someone means to see their usefulness, importance, worth, or something to be desired. Seems easy enough. What if, for example, you were told by someone close to you, such as your spouse, your child, or a friend, that you had no value? That you weren’t useful to them or important, or held worth? I would think learning that would be pretty devastating. What if you overheard it from a conversation you shouldn’t have been privy to but couldn’t un-hear it once you heard the words spoken? How do you live with that? I would imagine it would be very difficult to recover from that. Especially if you didn’t want the other person to know you accidentally overheard their conversation, for fear of retribution. That would mean you’d have to pretend you didn’t know anything and you’d have to ensure you didn’t act any differently for fear of giving yourself away. You’d have to push your emotions down and not let them affect you. And yet, you’d have to continue to live day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year knowing the true feelings of the other person. Sounds pretty convoluted, doesn’t it? It was. Welcome to just one of the many scenarios I endured while married to my ex. We were married just shy of 35 years and I dealt with situations like the one above, at least, two or three times a week. There was always drama. Whether it was work related or health related or even yard work related. There was always something. I constantly walked on egg shells. He probably didn’t notice it because I became very good at hiding my feelings from him and besides, who notices someone of no value. As a child, I always looked forward to Christmas. My daddy was a cabinet builder by trade and, even though he worked hard, money was always tight. We lived in a 742 square foot, two-bedroom house on 28th Avenue. My two sisters and I shared a bedroom. We were crowded but it never seemed to bother us. We were thankful for what we had. I’m sure we were considered poor folks but I never felt poor. Christmas was the one day out of the year we received toys. I believe I was around 7 years old when I unwrapped her. A sweet little baby doll, complete with a fuzzy pink blanket and a bottle. I was so happy when I saw her all tucked into her little box. Since I didn’t have anything to make a little bed out of, I used the box she came in. After all, she fit into it perfectly because it was made just for her. I named her Joy. I don’t recall now why I decided on that name. Probably because having her as my own brought me such great joy. I took her everywhere with me. I’m sure to others, she looked like an ordinary doll but to me, she was one of a kind. She was the only doll I had so Joy was something of great value. When I was in the fourth grade, my mom gave birth to my little brother. Having four kids in a two-bedroom house became much too crowded so we moved to Oregon to live next to my grandparents. My Pappy had bought a big tract of land and then each one of my mom’s siblings purchased what they wanted. My parents purchased a used single-wide mobile home and had it moved onto the Sager section of the parceled out land. There were two bedrooms in the trailer. My oldest sister got one of the rooms to herself and my younger sister and I shared. My dad removed the tilt out portion on the trailer then added on a big living room, a master bedroom, and a laundry room to expand the living space. It was the biggest home I’d ever lived in. I thought we’d won the lottery or something. I started fifth grade the next school year. We lived out in the country so we rode the bus to and from school every day. My grandma built a shed by the main road so we would have shelter in case it rained. It was the Pacific Northwest. Rain was a given. Every morning, my sisters and I would walk up the hill and wait beside the gravel country road for the big yellow bus to pull up. The bus route took about an hour to get around to all the houses where the country kids lived. I remember the Thompson kids always smelled like they needed baths and you always knew what the Kelly kids had eaten for breakfast. I guess it’s not a bad thing to get on the school bus smelling like bacon. Funny the things we remember from childhood, isn’t it? What I remember most about

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