Beauty Irrevocable

Today I sent my little girl off to the first grade, a milestone in any book. True to our parental duties, my husband and I subjected her to the obligatory photo sessions, both at the house and as we arrived at school. And my precious little girl was more than happy to oblige. She sashayed around the house in her new shoes and skirt. She admired her hair in the mirror. She happily struck pose after pose with her new backpack and lunch box. And her father told her, with each flash, that she is beautiful; she should be a model. Her amber eyes danced with the delight of knowing she is beautiful; and that someone else recognizes this truth.

Later, as I was uploading said photographs, noticing for the first time how much of a young lady my daughter has become, my reminiscing stopped short as ice filled my veins. How long does she have until she, too, becomes a slave to the lies? The time when she looks at pictures of herself, sees her reflection, and doesn’t see beauty? When, instead of delighting in her own skin, she picks herself apart; mentally ticking off features that don’t fit the fashion magazine mold. Ten years? Twenty? Two?

Because that day comes, doesn’t it ladies, when our father’s compliments (if there ever where any) aren’t valid or enough. When we unknowingly switch from casual delight in whom we are, to constantly striving to be what we never will. If only I had a body like that model…If only I was as creative/successful/organized as she…If only someone would notice me.

I worry because to some extent, it happens to every woman. It could be merely life, the sum of our personal experiences, convincing each one of us that for whatever reason, we are lacking. It could be society; the media an easy target for bearing the weight of parental and personal responsibility. Or celebrities; people so lost in darkness they can’t even find their own hearts. (I can’t condemn Miley Cyrus for her recent dance any more than I can fault a solider for the gaping hole in his chest left by a mortar round. Her world, perhaps in a more immediate sense than mine, is full of a darkness so virulent it devours innocence.) Though closer to the truth I think, is the deception of a master illusionist. One bent on the annihilation of generations. A slanderer who repeats our failures to us, reminds of us the things we are not; and tries to make us forget the things that we are.

And slowly, we trade our “if only’s” for lies. When I have a body like that model, I will be beautiful. When I am more creative/successful/organized than she, I will be happy. I will find someone to notice me, at any cost. And even more slowly, we sacrifice ourselves. We stop eating; we frantically try to control who others think we are; we push our children to be what we never were; we allow unthinkable horrors to be inflicted on our hearts. We give ourselves in ways that steal our already fragile beauty. We deny the truth that is in us in exchange for scattered moments of the fleeting semblance of the girl we once were ~ delighted with being beautiful. With being the girl God created her be.

We each are beautiful; a poem written by God, painstakingly crafted to His ideal version of who we should be. We must remember this. We must sow this truth in the hearts of our daughters; into the minds and onto the tongues of our sons. We must combat each lie with truth.

You are beautiful. You are wonderfully made. You are God’s idea of what you should be.

Healthy Living in a Fast Food Culture

^{Hebrews 5:14 "}But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil."

I pondered the health risks of American culture recently, with my kids tucked in the back of my smaller SUV; eagerly anticipating yet another quickie meal from an international food company. Passing deep-fried potato strips to my children to reward them for finishing their quasi-meat patty, I felt the familiar wave of parental guilt. The kids love the drive-through. I find the overall convenience highly enticing.

But, as a mature adult, I know better. I know that a burger and fries aren't ideal for their little bodies. I know that I'm setting them up for poor eating habits as they grow. I know that I should be feeding them organic, locally grown, healthy foods. But I frequently choose laziness. Why? Because I'm too tired, or too bored, or too distracted.  Or frankly, unmotivated to cook. So we hop in the car and head off to procure a meal. And while it's not healthy, it is still technically food. It satiates. Hunger subsides for a while. The kids are still growing; they have energy. But this is not how God designed them to be fueled. And as the mature person responsible, I know that.

The Happy Meal Project: artist Sally Davies photoraphed the above food as it sat on her table every day for 137 days.  See the slide show here; but don't expect to rush out any time soon for a fast and easy meal.

In a culture where immediate gratification rules supreme, I am not surprised by my tendancies towards the easy life.  Even in the context of spirituality.  I frequent Bible studies hosted by local churches; my growth housing shelves of workbooks to that end.  Each a testament of the video guided curriculum, a semester's worth of instruction in the Word.  Someone else's message prepared and packaged neatly for my quick ingestion.  But why does it feel like spiritual fast food?

What if I relied entirely on just that for my spiritual growth?  For my life?  Eventually, wouldn't my system become accustomed (even toxic) to that which initially satiated me?  A meal prepared entirely by someone else; to their particular tastes and moods.  Convenient ~ yes.  A means to procure nourishment ~ again, yes.  Though eventually, I believe the spirit seeks more; that to which Hebrews 5:14 refers.

Each believer, becoming more mature in their faith is told to "train themselves" by "constant use" (Hebrews 5:14).  This means that as we mature in our walk ("Christianese" for: reading the Bible more, getting closer to God through conversations, and looking less like the world and more like Christ), we are required to dig deeper into God's Word ourselves.  This must be a daily practice; not for others, but for ourselves so that we may be able to digest the heavy passages of Scripture alone with the Spirit.  We have to be willing to examine the seeds planted by others, to tend them as one does a garden.  To identify when they are ready for harvest; and to pluck them at just the right moment.  We have to learn how to prepare these truths as one does a delicacy: paying particular attention to the greatest nutritional value.  And we have to savor these lessons, garnered not from others but from the literal sweat off our own brow.  The nights spent mulling; days  exhausted in patiently waiting for fruition.  We each are called to figuratively plant, harvest, and prepare our spiritual gardens.

I am not saying that a believer should avoid collective Bible studies; quite the opposite!  A mature believer (and you know who you are), should not rely on these to feed your spirit.  Whomever the teacher on the video or behind the podium, the Holy Spirit is calling you to a deeper, more meaningful relationship.  Filling in blanks in a workbook is like eating hamburgers from a drive-thru.  They fill you up; but they do nothing for your health.  You are the only one, after daily training yourself on the Truth, who can recognize when the easy, neatly packaged lessons aren't enough.  When you have to dig deeper, put forth more effort.

That's when you give up the spiritual drive-thru for a Holy Spirit inspired garden.

Here's an article that explains how to begin a vegetable garden

And just for fun, here's an animated short entitled "What if Wild Animals Ate Fast Food."

Stay

Out of curiosity, I recently visited Wikipedia and found 29 songs listed with the title, "Stay." Stay. There is an ache, whatever the genre, in that single word. A desperate plea. An admission of some other over-arching emotion. Love. Fear. Loneliness. The need for companionship; for witness to our fragile existence. Don't go. Stay.

I am not immune to that ache. I have known it's many forms. I have been overcome and I have been victorious over this state time and again. My days now are filled with a joy and purpose I for so very long thought impossible. However, of late it has been my heart's cry. I have been privy to a particular healing group, a sisterhood of women who have sought truth in face of their darkest moments; women who have knelt before the cross of Jesus Christ and traded their shame for His righteousness. And I have seen God work miracles in their hearts. He has brought springs out of parched ground and gardens from wastelands (Isaiah 41: 18-19). Upon my sisters, He has bestowed a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. And we each walk away, displaying the LORD's splendor (Isaiah 61:3). I have literally seen these transformations weekly. I have been transformed.

Therefore, it stands to reason that I would not readily walk away from this holy site. But circumstances are commanding my respite. Some, frankly, are quite joyful ~ a fellow sister will stand in my stead and I am praising GOD for the chance for her to bear this witness and toil in this blessed vineyard as well! Some are near and dear to my heart; and some are, seemingly, just life. But as I watched the light from 13 candles illuminate the dark corner of a room, I said to my Adonai, "You can't ask me to walk away. Don't take this from me."

Why? Was I so selfish that I wanted this only for myself? Did I think this wouldn't happen without me in the room? No. It was the fear that if I left this arena, I would loose this closeness, this intimacy with my Yahew Roi [the LORD is my Shepherd]. I was desperate not to loose this holy place, this level of relationship with Him.

"Stay!" My heart cried out, "don't go!" Tears soaked my prayers, my worship; my knees grew numb from begging. But eventually, I had to get up. Life wouldn't wait (my 3 year-old needed breakfast and he is very adamant about eating). Throughout my days, I kept silently insisting, "stay. Stay!"

And in His tender way, my Abba took me into His arms, and wiped away my tears. He held me, He listened to my pleas, but He did not change His mind. His will was not bent to suit my desires. Instead, He told me of a time when another one of His children did not want to let go...

Paraphrased from Matthew 16:21-17:5, with personal commentary
Jesus revealed to his disciples that He would be put to death, a horrible death preceded by torture, by the chief priests of Jerusalem. There is a part of me that believes He did this not only to indicate His divinity, but to prepare those who loved Him. He was getting them ready for what was inevitable. Upon hearing this news, His disciples were frantic, most likely heartbroken. They pledged their lives in exchange for His. Peter even declared, "never!" Christ's rebuke was fairly harsh; but He never was one to pull any punches. Days passed without comment, though I assume that his dearest friends were still silently distraught. And He knew this. So, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John with Him to the top of a mountain for time alone to pray. Each man was probably thinking of this time as a chance to draw closer to Jesus, to soak up His nearness after such a distressing revelation. Up the mountain they went. During this prayer time, Christ is transformed into His heavenly glory; and He is met atop this mountain by Elijah and Moses. Why does this happen in front of Peter, James, and John? Maybe Jesus wanted to comfort them with the knowledge that He is the Son of God; therefore He knew what would take place and He had already made the choice to follow through ~ for the sake of every soul in the world. The disciples were astounded; some books say they were afraid, some say they didn't know what to do. And then Peter begs. Peter tells Jesus he will build three tents to house Christ, Elijah, and Moses ~ to keep Jesus there, in the temporal, in immediate contact with Peter. "Stay," is Peter's heart's cry. At that moment, the mountain is enveloped in a cloud and a voice from the cloud says, " This is My Son, whom I love; with Him I am well pleased. Listen to Him."

"Listen to Him." The implication being, "abandon your own plans. Follow His directions." Peter, who loved Jesus, didn't want to let go. He wanted to stay with Jesus in the closest sense. But Peter couldn't understand what Christ's death would accomplish. Peter couldn't know what plans God and Jesus had following the Crucifixion. In order to see the apex of all history, Peter would have to let Jesus go. He would be required to experience physical distance in order to have spiritual closeness beyond imagination. Peter would have to be obedient, in spite of his emotions. In spite of his heart. Peter heard the voice of God telling him to listen to Jesus. And Jesus was preparing him for a time of relationship which was beyond Peter's comprehension.

And so, my Heavenly Father showed me that I can not understand His plans. And sometimes, my heart's desire may actually stand in the way of those plans. Albeit unwittingly. So, He asks me to trust Him. Because whatever is on the other side is very much worth it.

Tonight, I kneel before my Adonai. I am letting go, Lord. Help me let go.

What comes next?

Adonai ~ Lord Master

I am aware that God has placed a purpose into all our lives; a task that He has specifically for each of us. Adonai [Lord Master] is calling each of His children to behave as servants in furthering His kingdom; and each has been given a particular venue, task, and the specific order in which to do just that. In Luke 17:7-10, Jesus is speaking to the disciples about that very thing. Jesus reminds them that they each are serving God; and God will instruct them on what tasks to perform, in what order. This instruction makes it so the disciples can not boast in their ingenuity; but only say that they were merely doing the task assigned them by God, to the glory of Adonai. Naturally, the same holds true for us today.

My prayer is that we will each spend time with our Lord Master seeking His direction for the next step of our journey. I pray that Adonai, speaks clearly to our hearts; and that we are all attentive and obedient to His beckoning.

I am excited to see what God, our Adonai, has revealed in the hearts of His children, and where this journey will take each of us next!

Bent and smoldering

A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he leads justice to victory. In his name the nations will put their hope.

Isaiah 42:3-4 & Matthew 12:20-21

Truth, while Christ promises will set us free, is sometimes difficult to even acknowledge and harder to bear. Particularly truth about our past sins and their consequences. We know that everyone has sinned and fallen short of the glory of God; and sin carries with it a death sentence. And while sin is sin, no one being any greater than another, some carry more immediate consequences. And those consequences, reactions to our sinful actions, can pummel us to the breaking point. Hurt beyond all reason; clothe us with pain seemingly insurmountable.

But another promise from our Mighty Creator, Elohim, is that He is gentle. He will not break those who are bent and bruised past what we think is possible for us to stand. When we are so buffeted that it feels like our flame has been extinguished, He will not snuff out our wick. He sent His only Son, Jesus to tenderly guide us towards justice and victory. It is through these trials that we will learn to place our hope evermore in Him!

When we expose the truth of our past dark deeds, we may be so brokenhearted, so trampled by the enemy, that we feel as if even this exposure will break us. But God will not allow us to be ruined in our attempts at reconciliation with him. He will not let our past overcome His future for us. He will tenderly guide us towards His victory. So that through our brokenness, His glory is even more evident. And those around us will also place their hope in Him!

Though He is mighty enough to speak the universe into existence, He is gentle enough to keep even the most bruised reed from breaking. Whatever your heartache, He can heal it.

Love Story

In the past six months, I have felt God’s love move in ways I’d thought were reserved for only the most pious believers. He ransomed my heart, He allured me, and He lavished me with His love! And when I think about my life, I realize that it is a love story. Not ideal, but a love story nonetheless. I see places where my beaten heart was protected by my God; other times where my attention to Him was prodded by my pain. In both instances, He stood, ever ready, to hold me in His embrace and drown me in His love.

I ponder the women in my story, ranging in age from 20 to 52. And I see amazing, intelligent, and beautiful individuals created in the image of God. (Yes, even we women were created in HIS image.) However listening to their stories, much like mine, I hear something frightening. I hear the voice of the enemy. His breath is hot on their ears, his forked tongue speaking deceit and ruin into their spirits. Unequivocally, when women speak, they say, “I am not ________ enough.” Pretty, smart, talented, witty, pleasing, frugal, tiddy, strong, good, creative, industrious, brave…all these adjectives have filled in the blank. But the underlying theme is “I am not enough.” This particular weight, this lie from Satan’s lips, is the burden under which so many of us toil. Entire lives lived beneath the crushing burden of “not enough,” never realizing their worth.

So many of us know that God sent His only Son to die on the cross to pay for our sins (John 3:16 ~ For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life). This, according to John 15:13 (Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends) was the ultimate act of love. This is the Truth! In this truth we can have faith, we are given hope, and the very essence of this truth is love. (1Cor 13:13 And now, these three things remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love).

However, I believe that many of us take the story to end there; the ink dried and the book was snapped shut after the work Christ did on the cross. Yes, we acknowledge that we must accept this gift from the ancient past and even that we are to communicate to God intermittently through prayer. But as for the love story, it has already been written.

But the story doesn’t end there! That is only the preface. God yearns, longs, for an intimate relationship with each of us. One in which we are His focus and He is ours. And not a relationship with the “church body,” the plural form of “us.” No, God wants this intimacy with individuals. With “Jen” “Barbie” “Ken” or “Joe.” God loves each person as an individual and craves an intimate relationship with that individual, separate from all others.

What if we allowed our God to become the lover of our soul? Infinitely better than a fallible human soul-mate; He is the One who wants to allure us (Hosea 2:14), the One who desires our presence, the One who sees us for who we truly are (Genesis 16:13). Jesus declared that the greatest commandment is to “Love the Lord you God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all you mind and will all your strength (Mark 12:30). I believe that if we could move past the idea of the Grandfather in white robes, we might be able to see God as the desire of our hearts. A God we could love this passionately; and allow ourselves to be loved by Him in a very passionate, intimate way. That relationship, that intimacy is what we were made for.

Another reason I believe God wants us to be passionately loved by Him is the Song of Solomon. This book isn’t only in the Bible to tell us of marital relations and the importance of purity. In it, God invites us to desire a relationship with him that is like the 1st verse of Song of Solomon (Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth—for your love is more delightful than wine). A relationship that is full of passion, longing, and love; a relationship in which we are His focus; and He is ours.

He is the God who calls out to our hearts, (Song of Solomon 2:10)

My lover spoke and said to me,

"Arise, my darling,

my beautiful one, and come with me."

Does God desire to be our lover? In Hosea 2:14, God says He will “allure [us]; [He] will lead [us] into the desert and speak tenderly to [us].” God says we “will call [Him] ‘[our] husband.” God also says He “will betroth [us] to [Him] forever; [He] will betroth [us] in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion. [He] will betroth [us] in faithfulness, and [we] will acknowledge the Lord” (Hosea 2:19-20). Through Christ’s righteousness and compassion we are betrothed to God. Through God’s love, faithfulness, and justice are we His brides.

Because when we prostitute ourselves out to other suitors (worldly pursuits), HE is jealous, as a lover would be. Like Gomer in Hosea (Ch 2), we fill ourselves with idols of our times; and I am chief amongst you guilty of this. I have put myself above God, I have used alcohol, drugs, sex, food, worldly beauty, pursuit of knowledge, love for my husband and love for my children as replacements for God’s love. I have used good works, friendships, genuine attempts at piety, and even religion to fill in for the love of my soul. Every time I am let down. Because only God can sustain that kind of intimacy; where we are loved, valued, and delighted in every breath of our lives. He yearns to cherish us as His bride, to steal away like newlyweds excitedly exclaiming over every new discovery and reveling in every moment together.

Why can’t we be that in love with HIM?

What if you could see right through me?

I am surprisingly inspired by a new friend, a few years my junior, who has decided to be completely transparent. She's calling fat days just that ~ fat days. And for someone recovering from a lifetime battle with an eating disorder, I stand in abject admiration. She's done pretending, done faking, done with the whole charade. I am so proud to call this woman a friend; spurred on by her willingness to just be.

Yet here I am, three decades in, having spent a lifetime practicing image management: learning what to say to whom, how to say it, and when to swallow my thoughts. Why? To be considered pleasing; to be thought of as a pleasant and worthwhile person. Think debutante, junior league, 1950's country club; crinolines, white gloves, and ruby, red punch in cut-glass cups. And the suffocating feeling of donning your "every thing's peachy-keen" face so the world won't think you're too messy, too emotional, too much effort.

Today, in an attempt to honor my friend's valiant strides, I am setting down my punch glass (and yes, I do so with a little extra force so that the ruby, red punch sloshes over the sides onto the pristine white table cloth beneath. See, I am a mess). I'm tossing my delicate white gloves on top of the heap of tulle in the corner that is my abandoned crinoline. Today, I'm going to be see-through.

Today, I want to say that I'm tired; not weary, more the sick-and-tired sense. I'm tired of hashing and rehashing my past. For the holiday season, I'd like to just let it be that ~ my past. I'm not saying I want to put it away forever. I know that I have been called to share my testimony with others; I know that I have been redeemed and I am so blessed to be able to give the glory to God for this. But I also know that HE does not define me by my past sin. HE sees me restored, a new creation. HE doesn't look at me and see my sin; HE looks at me and sees HIS Son. Yet in the earthly realm, I feel the scarlet A is emblazoned on my chest for everyone to gawk and judge. Today, I want to walk into a room and just be God's Jenni: His forgiven, redeemed daughter; His fair one.

Today, I want to say my trust has been broken. I made myself vulnerable, on more than one occasion; and that vulnerability was capitalized upon, manhandled. So that now, I'm curling tightly into my safety ~ my God. And I'm going to be more discerning about allowing myself to be that vulnerable. Today, I'm working on trusting my God with everything, starting with my heart and dreams.

Today I want to say that I am a work in progress. I am rarely bold (hence the blog), frequently inappropriately sarcastic, and always messy (literally and figuratively). I get angry far too often, I interrupt all the time, and I snort when I really laugh. I want people to like me; it makes me feel valued, worthy. I'm trying to get over that ~ trying. Today, I'm praying that I can smell more like Christ than I did yesterday.

So I'll pick up my glass of punch again, don my white gloves, and struggle back into my crinoline, admitting that I am a broken mess without the forgiveness of Christ. But I know that His forgiveness is complete and in His eyes, I am not that person any longer. I know that my heart, however hurt it may have been is safe with Him. And I know that everyday I try, I come closer to being a "Christian;" which is literally a "little Christ." And I am so thankful that I don't need crinolines to be acceptable to the King of Kings ~ He loves me for who I am; and I am His!