Wash Over Me and My Kitchen Sink

If your house looks anything like mine, you might have a few (or many) dishes in your sink. A counter top may be welcome space for piles. Dropping points for groceries, lunch boxes, school calendars, and papers to send back to school. Your couch may be covered in laundry, your floor  disguised by toys. Or maybe you're a little more gifted in time management and don't have to restart the washer 3 times and dryer twice before completing a load of laundry! I do believe I've solved the mystery of why my laundry is never done. My laundry is stuck in the remedial cycle over and over again. However, we all have that place in our home or our life that we wish we could "tidy" up a little more.

For me, my kitchen sink is one of those places. How on earth two small children, a husband and myself can fill a sink with dirty dishes so many times through the course of a day is mind boggling to me. Rinse, wash, scrub,  repeat.



The other day in the midst of grumbling about being the only one in the house who actually sees the dishes in the sink (forgive me, it's true), I started to realize that maybe there is more to my kitchen sink than meets the eye.

Maybe my sink is a representation of my need for Jesus. It takes just a few moments to move from shiny and clean to piled high in a mess! It's a constant cleansing, washing and WORK just as is my relationship with Christ. He's always there ready to wash over, restore and cleanse me. But, those dishes require me to show up, activate the water to wash them and do the work to carry the task onto completion again and again and again.

So, tired Mama at Target, I see you. Mama-who-looks-far-too-fabulous-this-early-in-the-morning, I see you, too! What do we all have in common? Our kitchen sink. Your's may be spotless and shining, her's may be a mess. But, the sink's job remains the same; to wash over the mess until it restores the serving utensils back to clean, back to what they were made to be - ready to be used for a purpose,  ready to be restored again and again again.

Your Creator is ready to for you, for your mess. For my mess.  He's ready to wash over the mess until He restores His servants back to clean, back to what they were made to be - ready to be used for a purpose with a great passion. His washing is permanent.  His water is living, His well never runs dry.

Unhinged

Dangly earrings are nice. I like how they sway and say, "Look at me! " I do not like when my tailgate hinges resemble earrings. I do not like how my perfectly planned sleep-in-Saturday began at 5:15 with "MOOOOOOOMMMM, I think I am going to throw up." I do not like when God allows me the opportunity to walk in what I say I believe when it is inconvenient, uncomfortable, and expensive.

This morning was exactly that. This morning began at 5:15 with upset tummies and early risers. Thankfully, as stomaches calmed and the sun rose we began to get ready to head out for soccer team pictures at 9:30. Early morning Paw Patrol and Sugary cereal seems to be the cure-all for any ailment except tired parenting.

Being the ever prompt family that we have become, at 9:15 we were headed out the door for team pictures at 9:30 (of which my husband is the Coach). I had packed the chairs, cleats, snacks and all things needed for a short jaunt to the soccer fields for the morning. I ran back inside to grab jackets because of the cool morning we were having at the beach. I left the tailgate open, garage door up...and thought it would just be a quick minute until we were headed to the fields.

Moments later I hear screaming in the garage. I hear in juvenile voices, "Put it up!", "Stop!",  "Put it down!" Followed by the sound of crushing metal. Oh dear. I came out of find my #paidfor car's  tailgate wedged in my hurricane proof 1,000 pound garage door with the hinges dangling like earrings from the top.

I don't have a picture to share because in that moment I wasn't thinking, "Ghee, God, could use this to teach me something today!" I was thinking that I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs until I no longer had breathe at what my boys had done to my car in their On/Off game with the garage door and my tailgate. I wanted to ask them how it is they manage to destroy all of the nice things we have in our home?! I wanted to tell them how much time I would have to sacrifice in the repairs of the tailgate and how expensive their little boo-boo would be! Instead, I thought of the sweet mama who was featured as a guest blogger just today. I thought of her words and her real expressions of the heart in dealing with anger. So, when I wanted to scream and cuss at what had been done to my car in a few short minutes, I turned around after seeing my car without saying a word, went inside, sat down and started to pray. It didn't change the anger I was feeling in that moment but it did spare my children from the rage I was feeling. It spared two little boys emotional well-belong, who had no idea how they had caused so much damage in just a few short minutes.

My husband managed to "un-stick" my tailgate from the garage door. It came down with a loud, crashing, thud..dangling "unhinged" earrings and all. It managed to stay latched and shut. Only a small dent to tell the tale of the actual damage of my tailgate. He warned not to lift the tailgate for anything and that he would meet me at the soccer fields.

The boys left in apologetic tears, despite neither Rob nor I actually speaking a word of what had happened. It appears as though they have learned to read the expression on my face as clearly as the words I speak.

Once they were gone, I took the opportunity to tell my empty house and God exactly how angry I was and why I was so angry about the circumstances of the morning. Unfortunately, I didn't feel any better after yelling about it so I was thankful there was no one there to receive my harsh words.

Once I arrived at the soccer field, a few sweet Mama friends were there to receive me and had been warned by Noah that "he broke the car and the garage" this morning. We had a good laugh, and suddenly, I felt better.

Then I gave over my anger to the Lord. My car is still broken. Unhinged. It's going to be expensive. It's going to be time consuming. And, it sucks. If I allowed myself, I would still be angry about it. But, truth me told, in the up/down tailgate commotion, my boys had no idea the damage being done. Screaming at them would not undo what had already occurred. It would have only made me feel worse about how the day began.  They understood how I was feeling without saying a word.

My saving grace came because a friend was brave enough to talk about dealing with her own anger. My self control this morning came from recalling her words. When emotion had been contained, I was able to talk with my boys and tell them that accidents happen but that this particular accident was going to be expensive. I told them that they would be helping to to offset the cost. Tonight, on our prayer wall, I found this:





So, we aren't the best spellers but Lord knows we can pray! Noah told the devil to leave us alone. :) And, as the wise boy that he is, he thought he better pray about how he was going to help pay for the tailgate repairs!  I suppose I am thankful that he isn't praying about how his mom screamed and yelled at him. I will count that as a win today in the midst of the crushed metal, early rising, think-I'm-going-to-vomit Saturday we've had at the Edwards home today.

I share this to say, someone needs to hear your story today. Be brave. Be a guest blogger. You don't know how your testimony will shape someone's day, someone's children, someone's tomorrow.




Roots of Anger

                                 Written by Guest Blogger Jennifer McGowen

My name is Jennifer McGowen. Let me tell you a little bit about myself  before we begin. I’m born and raised in Charlotte, North Carolina. Went to NC State University in Raleigh, graduated with a degree in Animal Science, because back then I thought I wanted to be a vet. During my senior year I realized I didn’t really want to be a vet. I didn’t want to take biochemistry. I didn’t really want to work 80 hour work weeks. I didn’t really want to be in ½ million dollars debt and start out making around $40,000. I didn’t know what I wanted to do at that point, but I was enjoying finishing up college.

One week before I graduated, I met a boy. One of those moments when he walked into the room and everything was shining right on him. He was Davis, and within just a few months into dating we knew we wanted to be each other’s forevers.




After graduating I worked as a vet tech at a local vet hospital, and Davis was finishing his senior of college. I then realized I wanted to go to nursing school. I saw how great nursing was for raising families and not having to work 80 hour work weeks. Just after we got married I got into nursing school. One and a half years later I graduated from UNC Chapel Hill. Just before finishing school I got the job offer of a lifetime at Rex Hospital in Raleigh in labor and delivery: only because a good college friend of mine’s worked in human resources, and basically put my application on top of 800 others on the nurse manager’s desk. I was so excited, I was going to get to deliver babies at the hospital who delivers the most babies in the whole state of NC! Usually someone has to die in order for a position to open up in labor and delivery, and here I was fresh out of nursing school getting to start.

Not but 3 days later, I was home with my husband when he gets a phone call. He’s getting a promotion to move him to Myrtle Beach. I couldn’t believe it! I grew up vacationing to Myrtle Beach every year! I mean, it’s the beach!  BUT I had the job of a lifetime! We talked for a few days of how we could make it work with me living Raleigh 3-4 days a week and then joining him in Myrtle the other days.  We were newly married, we figured it could work.  But then we decided that since we were still young and freshly 2 years married, it was best that we start a new chapter together in South Carolina.  I know I cried my eyes out, leaving the house we thought was going to be our forever home for 30+ years.  My mom even said once, “Can’t you just stay in NC and Davis go work there?” I said, “No mom, I’m going with him.” 

Two months later we packed up our house and moved to Myrtle Beach.  THE very day the movers came I pulled Davis to the side. “So you know that thing that starts on a Wednesday every 4 weeks in the morning for the past someTEEN years of my life? Um well it didn’t start today.”  “Are you worried?” He said. “No, I bet it’s just stress from the move.” Several days later after being here, I was working on getting a job. I walked into Grand Strand Medical Center and spoke with a lady in HR, and she told me a position I’d be perfect for.  We didn’t have internet yet so I had to go the public library to apply for the position. After leaving I thought, “You know this predictable every 28 day visitor still hasn’t shown up.”  I swung by the Dollar Tree on the way home, because I knew from nursing school it was the same “pee in a cup” pregnancy test that your doctor gives you.  As soon as I got back into my car the nurse manager from 3 East called and said “Your application and resume look amazing, can you come in in 1 hour to interview?” “Sure!” I said.  I called Davis to meet me at home because I needed him to drive me. So silly of me to think it was a good idea to take a pregnancy test 45 minutes before a job interview. What was I thinking. Well, sure enough, positive. Elation, vomiting, crying, calling my best friend all ensued. Davis walks through the door and I tell him. That face. That is a face I’ll never forget. That smile and tears in his eyes I’ll never forget.


 
I end up getting the job. We have a baby 8 months later. And fast forward 5 years, Davis has had 3 more promotions and I work PRN, or basically 2-4 days a month at the hospital mainly weekends.  AND we have a 5 year old, 3 year old, and just turned 1 year old.




I tell you all of that because I don’t remember being angry or mad back then.  I remember getting upset about certain events or situations.  I don’t remember holding onto things that made me mad back then.  B U T we didn’t have kids. We didn’t have jobs that required more than we thought we could give. (And by jobs I mean paid jobs and dad duties and mom duties.)

In the past five years, I have been so angry that I’ve thrown remotes at the wall. I’ve gotten so angry I kicked 2 holes in the wall, the last one I was one inch on either side from kicking a stud, and that would have broken my foot, which would have made me even more angry. I have been so angry that I screamed at the top of my lungs for about 30 seconds straight and then was hoarse after. I’ve been so angry I just collapsed to the floor and bawled my eyes out.

This week I made dinner as usual around 5:15.  Now with a kid in elementary school, I pretty much have to feed dinner at 5, baths at 6 and bedtime by 7.  I made the most sophisticated meal that actually takes me so much time in the kitchen.  I had to start the fire in my built in kiln, then I had to unfasten the sides of the package, place this round sustenance into the kiln and establish the correct cooking period to enable perfection. 18 minutes later, I cut this pizza into tiny kid sized pie-slices, arranged so neatly onto a paper plate with grapes and apple slices, and voila, a feast. Big kids Ada and Thomas started eating. The 1 year old, Jayson, buckled into her high chair for her keyboard letter size pieces of cheese pizza heaven. I actually made a grown up salad for Davis and me. I devoured mine while standing in the kitchen between getting milk cups and napkins and cutting things smaller and whining this and “I can’t scoot closer!” crying. Around 6 pm Davis walks in. Everyone is so happy to see him. I make him an actual plate of supper to enjoy at the table with the kids, and before he can even take his shoes off, Thomas is crying that he needs to go to the bathroom but it’s too dark in the hallway and he can’t go. Davis is trying to convince him to just go, just go! Just go already to the bathroom. He even turned on the light for him. I’m now sitting at the table finishing my salad and pizza, when now Ada, Thomas, and Davis are in the bathroom or right outside the bathroom or the hallway, or something, either way. This is what I hear.

Ada “I was just taking my shirt off!” Davis “Well I don’t know why you need to take your shirt off to go poopoo but you’re taking too long.”  Thomas “But I really needed to go!” Davis “Well next time don’t take so long when you said you needed to go.” Thomas continues to cry, comes to me. It’s the not real I’m hurt cry. Yall know this whine. Davis “Thomas you’d better hurry before someone else in this house goes before you. You’d better hurry before Jayson goes.” Thomas now whining crying walking back to the bathroom, “Jayson just goes in her diaper.” Davis “Well most of the time.” Thomas walks down the hall weepily out loud crying and goes to the bathroom. 30 minutes AFTER I’ve made Davis’s plate he sits down to eat.

I’m cleaning up at this point and all I can say to him is, “See?! Do you see why I’ve gone crazy?!”

My husband always says to me, “Why are you so angry? Why are you so angry all the time?”  I respond “I’m not angry I’m just mad!” Of course that response is just because part of me doesn’t want my husband to be right all the time. Of course me saying “I’m just mad” makes me feel like somehow that’s not as bad as angry.

When researching about this anger topic, I was surprised to find this:

It is common in informal everyday expressions for the word "mad" to be used for "angry." Anger" (Angry) means a strong displeasure and antagonism directed toward the cause of a possible wrong or injustice. Example: I am angry.
Madness (Mad) means a suffering from or manifesting severe mental disorder; insane; lunatic; psychotic; crazy. Example: Madness is a severe mental disorder.

So of course after reading this I was like “Damnit, he’s right. Er well, wait a minute, I mean he’s right because he thinks I’m just displeased with so many things all the time. But also, I could be right, because being in charge of 3 small people all day long is driving me crazy!”



Let’s try this little quiz. I’m going to give an example and chose whether you think it means angry or mad.

1. If a person is mentally ill to the point of being insane, we may say that the person is angry/mad.
2. Mother is angry/mad about your report card.
3. The person became so wrathful and loud that we feared the person was angry/mad.
4. Do you know that I am really angry/mad with you?
5. The player got angry/mad when the referee called a foul.
6. You must always be in control when you become angry/mad.
7. You must be angry/mad if you think I’m going to help you rob a bank!
8. Seeing things that aren’t there can be an indication that someone is angry/mad.


So it turns out, I’m actually not mad all the time. And in all honesty I’m not angry all the time, but my husband only sees me at the end of every very long day, where I have been talked to TOO much, asked TOO many questions, touched WAY too many times, NOT sat down, NOT peed by myself, had to talk TOO many people out of back breaking meltdowns and tantrums, convinced TOO many people that a scratch was not going to kill them and did not need 4 bandaids, cleaned up the high chair from 3 meals, picked up a gallon size amount of food up off the floor from around the high chair, wiped every bottom and changed clothes…

                                

As God’s children, we are all born with sin.  Anger itself is not a sin.  Sin is a transgression against God.  Sometimes we as Christian women might confuse our anger with thinking we’ve sinned, and that only messes more with our ability to think rationally and reasonably. I can tell you that anger always makes me think IRrationally, and UNreasonably.

Anger has 3 forms, raise your hand if it’s:
  • immediately explosive and blowing up
  • stewing, brewing 
  • irritability, exasperation or resentment.

Silent anger is just as offensive to God as explosive anger. How are you prone to express your anger? Throwing a plate at the wall? Slamming doors? Yelling at the kids? Blaming their spilled cup or plate on all the other angry things in your life?

Here are some things that make me angry:
  • -being hot
  • -my shirt being pulled down by kids
  • -stubbing my pinky toe again and again
  • -“Momma, Momma, Momma, Momma, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, MA! MA! MA! MA!” “WHAT?!” ok hopefully you all know that form Family Guy
  • -the thought of any child going hungry or living with people who don’t love them and tell them they’re loved and hug them and rock them
  • -the presidential race this year
  • -the retired community in Myrtle Beach who think that they’ve lived a hard 67 years and cut me off with their shopping carts or don’t hold open doors for me or keep driving when they see I’m wearing 1 child and holding hands with 2 others.
  • -kids pulling my glasses off or whacking me in my glasses
  • -my guilt of the things that I haven’t gotten done yet.


Mandy Arioto, the president and CEO of MOPs and author of Starry-Eyed, wrote about that anger is like fire – it can be used to save the world or burn it. With all that power it is no wonder we don’t know what to do with it. And so me yelling at Davis at the end of the night is because I don’t really know what to do with all the fire inside of me.
   

Being a Christian woman, maybe we think that we’re not supposed to get angry. Mandy the president of MOPs said that’s why she finds Jesus so fascinating. “He got angry and was completely unpredictable. Even the friends he hung out with every day weren’t sure how he was going to respond in certain situations. One day he is embracing a woman who slept with a married guy, saving her from getting stoned to death, and the next day he is throwing tables around in the church and yelling at the religious leaders for creating rules that were too much for anyone to follow. Some people find this disturbing, a God who gets angry, but I would find it more disturbing to think about following a God who sees exploitation and injustice and does not get angry. After all, some things are worth getting angry about and other things are just inconveniences to be acknowledged. Anger is simply an emotion – what defines it is what we do with it.”

So here are some tips for what we can do with our anger, find a justice to the injustice:

So when I’m hot, I’ll just start taking my clothes off.  If I’m not wearing a shirt there’s no shirt for a kid to pull down.
Instead of constantly stubbing my pinky toe, I’ll wear shoes.
When we see terrible things in the world, we won’t be tempted to be angry at God, we will be angry alongside God.

Kelly Gray, a licensed practical counselor, wrote a great article for Hello Dearest, the monthly MOPs newsletter, in July called The Roots of Anger. She describes having a safe word at her house. If someone declares themselves to be “flooded” or they suspect someone is flooded, the expectations for that moment must shift. Flooded means someone is totally overwhelmed, melting down, has lost their rational thinking and therefore is at a great risk to say or do something regrettable. Saying “I’m flooded” means get clear, slow down, stop speaking, don’t provoke and don’t corner.

This is me often.  When I have obligated myself to too many obligations, whether out loud confirmations to friends for playdates or whether I’m thinking in my head all the obligations I have, like grocery shopping or running errands, I get flooded. But I have no one to take it out on except Davis at the end of the day.  He hasn’t been there all day, but somehow I make it all his fault.  That’s when he says “Why are you so angry?!”

Kelly Gray, that LPC I just mentioned said these are ways to get to the roots of your anger:
Make sure your spouse and close friends know your triggers. Say it to them out loud.  “You know when you come home and it’s the end of the day and dinner isn’t cooked and the house is a mess and the kids are screaming and I need to wrap a present for our niece’s birthday?! I’m flooded.”  This enables them to mobilize quickly to help ground and comfort you when you’re spinning out; a quick text to the right person in a hard moment can bring a dose of relief.
What doesn’t help moms get calmer or more patient is beating ourselves up, demanding patience from ourselves when we have none to give or never exploring our triggers and just hoping they don’t come back again.
So once you’ve figured out your roots of anger, and hopefully it’s really just anger and not true madness, figure out what you’re going to do with that anger. If you or someone you know have gone to counseling, hopefully they’ve learned cognitive behavioral therapy, which means: I can’t control the event or situation, only how I respond. Learning how to respond with your anger is key. It’s ok to be upset. Take a time out, say you’re flooded, take a walk, lock yourself in the bathroom. Pray about what is important to you: the health and safety of you and your family. Hopefully you can return to the situation in a better state.



Uncommon Fellowship

I have a secret pal at work who really "gets" me. The thing about not knowing who the gift giver is - is really quite fun and leaves a lot of room for interpertation of gifts. When school started, I noticed so many teachers with super cute Scout bags that I had never seen before. I LOVED them. I jotted down on my running to-do list, "Find and buy Scout bag". No lie, the next day, said amazing secret pal has left ah-maz-ing Scout bag in my classroom. Be still my heart.

To me, the joy of a secret pal, is the unexpected extension of kindness, without the giver being given the opportunity to watch how it is received and doing it anyway! Many times the best part of giving a gift is watching the recipient open it! The Secret Pal doesn't have that opportunity unless they are way more mission impossible than I am.  A few weeks ago I received another precious, attentively packaged gift from my pal. I was touched by the items in the bag. They had personal connections to me. Fast Forward to today, my pal had left another package in my room. Spoiled, I know. Hashtag Blessed. Lol. 


I didn't have a chance to open my package at work today. Instead, while waiting in a car rider pick up line, I savored a still moment and decided to open my gift. Inside the box was a very intentional arrangement of my life. The mash up of things inside would look very random to most, but to me, it was the uncommon fellowship of my heart. In the midst of camo, a cross, lipstick and coffee, I saw my reflection.  Not knowing the giver of the gift, I can't ask how she knew the very thoughts inside my head. But, somehow, I have just very recently found myself awkwardly comfortable in my own skin. Comfortable with the many facets of my life that would make some people say, hmmm. Truthfully, at times, make me say "hmm" when I think about my winding path in life and how I arrived here! The more I  surrender, daily,  to Christ,  the more comfort I'm finding in who He made me - camo - and all! Who knew?! 

But, what I also loved about this very thoughtful gift was the humor in it. You see, lately, I've decided to try to not take myself and life so seriously.  Can you see the nail file?... "I never realized how funny I was until I started talking to myself" hit the nail on the head! The hunting socks were inside of the coffee mug when I unpacked my gift. And look closely, do you see what is sitting on top of them in the picture? La Cucaracha was in the coffee mug. It made me laugh out loud.  To me, it was a sweet reminder that I am a mom of boys so no matter how much lipstick I put on... I am still going to have a major "ewww" factor to deal with each day.  It made me think of the woods. It made me think of how in my love for the woods, I still have to deal with the "yuck" in the midst of the beauty. The bugs, the plants that keep you up all night scratching and dare I even say the word, red bugs.  The little plastic cockroach in the cup, whether intentional or not (I think it was...), also made me think of myself. In what could be perceived as a randomly assorted package was the uncommon fellowship of my life. The pieces that make me, me. The dichotomy of the sweetness of chocolate next to a plastic cockroach reminded me of my Christian walk. You see, in the sweetness of Christ, when He illuminated my life, He makes the things (sin) that scurry in the darkness flee. 

The more I seek Him, the more He illuminates. When I don't seek Him daily and lose my way,  the things that make me say, "ewww" begin to creep, scurry to find a stronghold over me.  But, that is the part that is so often forgotten about a Christian walk. Christ is IN me, but Christ is not me.  I am a hot mess. Perfectly, imperfect. I struggle. My flesh and my soul disagree, a lot. Knowing Christ hasn't made it easier. In fact, it's harder. Before I had a relationship with Christ, it was easy to just give in to my fleshly desires no matter the consequences. But along with indulging, was assuming the consequences of my actions and the weight of my sin with no hope for restoration. 

I choose the struggle now. I choose the hope I've found in Him and I am boastful about being a hot mess because in my weakness, He is strong!  In Corinthians, Paul speaks of a thorn in His flesh that he has asked Christ to take from him over and over. Christ responds by saying "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Paul then says, "Therefore I will BOAST ALL THE MORE GLADLY ABOUT MY WEAKNESSES, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weakness, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." So when I say I'm a hot mess, I mean it. I've asked God to take certain struggles over and over and over again. He hasn't. And, I know it is because that is WHERE He is refining my life and where He continues to receive the glory for who I used to be and who He is making me.

Stay with me...I have a point...

The good, the bad, the ugly in the little package of me isn't surprising to Christ. He sees my assortment of "stuff" in my box and says, I made YOU in my image ...now, let me work all of this stuff (the sweet stuff and the things that scurry) and let me transform them for good, for my Glory. It's like He looks at us and says, "Let me allow you to play a role that is so much bigger than YOU - How about you be a reflection of me?!"

Is it easy? No. He's Christ. Is it worth it? Yes! 

I had the incredible opportunity to attend the Catalyst Leadership Conference in Atlanta last week. This year's theme was, Uncommon Fellowship. The beautiful take away I had was about who Jesus actually is and not the "Jesus-in-a-box" that churched and unchurched people can put him in. Jesus loved and still loves people. The good, the bad, the ugly. The unclean, the unsaved, the unrighteous. The messy, the sinful, the stumbling, the striving, the redeemed, the clean, the people like me. The people, like you. 

At Catalyst, Andy Stanley said, "Imagine a world that is skeptical of what we believed, but were envious of how we treated one another." 

How about we stop using Christ to condemn others and simply start by using Christ as our example of how to love them?

What if, like my secret pal did, we paid attention to the people around us? That we loved them for who they are and where they are in life. Even if that means, camo socks, chocolate and cockroaches! Will we prioritize UNITY over our own views of christianity? Are we willing to look past our own version of faith to unite as ONE BODY. Though each one of us is "packaged" definitely, the thing we have in common as Christ followers is Jesus. In the words of Pastor Stanley,  "If your  theology separates you, from sinners like you, you may have some work to do."  Unselfish love, fuels uncommon fellowship. Do unto others as Christ has done for you.  By this everyone will know THAT you are His disciples. 

So, if you had a secret pal packing a gift for you, your box is going to look different than mine. It's going to be delivered to a different place than mine. It's going to have it's own version of you in it. My box isn't better than yours. Your box isn't better than mine.  However, they are different and the purposes of the contents inside,  are left to be determined by the recipient of the gift.  And, the gift alone is aw-inspiring because it is made in the image of Christ, no matter the contents. 

Maybe, we as people, could decide that we can't all be right, but we can be one. We can find uncommon fellowship in our political, religious, cultural, fill-in-the-blank differences.  Our uniqueness in who the Creator made us to be and  the unifying blood of Jesus Christ unites us in His great commission on earth...love.  Love one another, as I have loved you.

I'm pretty certain my secret pal wouldn't expect my interpretation of her gift to arrive here. I'm sure she thought she was just doing something really nice. Showing a little love. Hashtag, she's awesome. But you know what, maybe that is the point. Maybe your act of love towards someone, however great or small, will lead them to place beyond what you could imagine. Maybe YOU and your love will be the first glimpse of who Christ really is and the LOVE he shows. Maybe YOU will be the catalyst for change in our world.


Enough in His Eyes


Late. Running late. Good intentions haven’t made me early yet. Missed voicemails, unreturned phone calls, forgotten play dates, overdue library books and uncooked family dinners.  Missed field trips due to work obligations,  forgotten lunch boxes at home.  Leftovers. Chicken. Leftovers. Chicken a-la-whatsinthepantry, again.  Laundry pile building, tempers toppling. Rushed bedtimes with no story, hurried breakfast in the car,  overbooked day planner and  under used devotional. 

A day in the life of “the struggle is real - Girl, you better pray!". I’ve noticed that not feeling like I’m “enough” is not an isolated struggle. Many of those around me are feeling the same way. And, I don’t, for a minute, believe it’s a feeling meant for us. For me, I believe it’s Satan’s backdoor to my confidence.  Since He cannot take my calling, He tries to derail my confidence. He distracts me just enough… to the point of the people pleasing carousel.  Round and round I go. Short drive home from car rider pick up with car pool kiddos. Lost in thought, no room in mind to entertain conversations from car riders today. 

Am I being an intentional mom? Maybe I should do it like she does. 

Am I a good wife? Um, shoot. 

Am I being a good teacher?   Remembrance of room full of Mama's volunteering their time today to paint scarecrows out of preschoolers feet. Suddenly realizing that I had put on their proverbial  plates the expectation of "showing up" even when their schedules were full.  I then sent said t-shirts home in the wrong book bag. The right book bag looked identical to the wrong book bag.   Embarrassing conversation with parent (thankfully a friend) why the t-shirts were missing and trying to figure out whose book bag they went home in. Even more embarrassing phone call to confused parent (in a different grade...long story) who received the t-shirts. Fail. Whomp, whomp. 

Am I being a good friend? I missed the birthday party, the girls night out,  the baby shower...

Have I been to the gym today?  Not today, not yesterday, not last week….or the week before. Darn it. 

Did I send the birthday gift?  The birthday that was in August. That was for my nephew. Crap. I'm a bad Aunt. No.

And on and on and on.


While I drove home today with a car full of laughter, noise and conversation behind me, my soul was quiet enough to listen. Listen to yourself, Jenny. Girl, get it together. Ok. So everyone is fed and clothed. Win. Everyone made it to school, on time, with lunch boxes and folders, today. Win. 

Recently though, I find myself being humbled over and over by the inability to juggle so much. Then, I fail to extend  grace to myself as I watch the bouncing balls drop. Today in the case of the missing class t-shirts, I felt so overcome by the fact that I couldn't juggle it all well. After explaining to the parents who were involved, I felt so embarrassed. What must they think of me? Driving home, I started praying, God, maybe that was it just it, maybe...again...I've become so concerned with what others think of me, that I've lost sight of His expectation of me. Maybe, I've said "yes"  to the expectations of the world so much so that my hands are full, fulfilling the idol of others, that my heart can't hold Pleasing Others AND His will for my life so,  I've now resorted to juggling what I'm called to do with what I think I should do.

I know I'm not alone. I know so many over scheduled, under rested Mamas who just don't feel like they are enough. After praying about it this afternoon, I found peace in knowing that how I feel isn't congruent with who I am. I feel insufficient. But, my God is enough. His grace washes over me like the ocean waves time and time again. While checking backpacks, and listening to the recaps of school days from my boys, I heard a knock on the door. 

When I went to open it, there she was...the Mama, the friend, who I felt so embarrassed that she witnessed me dropping the ball, losing the t-shirts and sending her a reminder for a date that was wrong, for something important, when I thought her expectation of me was so much greater than I was able to do today. There she was. Card in tow. Present in hand. Humor to serve up a slice of grace with the lemons that I was juggling. A tangible expression of grace, through humor, answered my prayer. God, Am I enough? She came to tell me that she was thankful I was her child's teacher on the very same day that, in my eyes, I had failed some pretty simple tasks.







Sometimes, we just need to not take ourselves so seriously. Sometimes, we just need to receive the grace that we are given. Sometimes, we just need to be reminded that even when we feel like we are not enough, His grace is sufficient. His measure of me is not by me being enough, it is by me being His. He whispers to me in the midst of my striving, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest in me." - 2 Corinthians 12:9. Look out world, based on the past several days, it is clear, He is at work in me. My weakness, His strength. 

Through His eyes, I look pretty good. Short comings and all, He calls me His. So, I say, I'm with Him. You know, the Creator of the Universe. He thinks I'm enough..so maybe I should start to trust that. Maybe, "No" is the new "Yes". Saying "No" to perceived expectations that I assign myself of what others need from me is saying, "Yes" to being all it is that God has created me to be. Insufficiently, sufficient for the Creator of the universe, my Master, to mold me into what He chooses to make of me....and He can do the same for you.







Speak Life Giveaway


                                        Speak Life Giveaway 
                                                 by Beth Massey





I love it when God knits moments together. For the last three weeks, my pastor, Trey Kelly, has been leading our church through a series entitled “Sticks and Stones: They May Break Bones butWords Can Change a Life.” We’ve learned how much weight our words carry, what they reveal about the condition of our hearts, how we can heal our hearts through our Savior and begin to communicate in a more Christ-like way with others. It has been a game-changer for me personally. While on a long run this Tuesday, I was listening to a podcast of pastor Craig Groeschel’s sermon “The Language ofRevival” from Elevation Church’s Code Orange Revival. He covered a related topic – that we should never underestimate the power of even one small word of encouragement. He asked a question. How often do we think of a blessing, but fail to share it? How often do we think something nice about someone else, but fail to say it? What if that one thing you held back might have made their day, or perhaps changed the course of their life?


These two men are amazing at what they do, so I won’t even attempt to expand on their teachings here. Instead, I have a little mission for you, friends. I’d simply like you to take some time to listen to their sermons found at the links above. Then, I’d like you to bless someone with a kind word, a genuine compliment or a word of encouragement. If you are willing to share that blessing publicly in the comments of this post on our One39Fourteen Facebook page and tag the blessed friend, your name will be ENTERED TO WIN a water bottle with the One 39 Fourteen logo. Just as there is no limit to the reach of your kindness, there is no limit to the number of times you may enter to win. If you bless and tag one person, your name will be entered once. If you bless and tag ten people, your name will be entered ten times. The last day to enter is Friday, October 7th. The winner will be announced the following day. So, dial up those sermons and get ready to SPEAK LIFE!
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