New Roots in Minnesota

It has been over 2 years since I last wrote. Several times I tried to return to writing. I would write a lengthy entry only to delete it all. Something kept holding me back.

When we first left Iowa, I was scared. We were packing up our bags and starting something new. A new place, new people. New coworkers, new church, new school, new neighborhood, new friends. So much change and excitement! I tried to so hard to stay positive about our big change.

I used to think I was brave, but moving stirred a fearful energy in me I had no idea existed in me. I was trying so hard to be brave for my kids and husband. What I didn't realize was I needed to be brave for me too. I couldn't admit the power my fear had on me. Saying I was afraid of a new place was something I could not admit aloud. It wasn't just that I felt the need to shoulder that burden myself, I really couldn't handle knowing how afraid I was.

In some sense I was uprooted.

The crazy thing is this new home we have created in Minnesota, we love it. Minnesota has been a second home to us. It is everything we wanted for our family. The beauty here of nature is so amazing, the lakes and trees and wildlife just beg you to come outside and play. Our kids have fabulous teachers at a top rated school. Our neighborhood is so great we ended up buying our first home a block away.

We are in the right place. But I'm not sure that my heart has been these last two years.

When I first stopped writing my excuse was the lack of time. We were in a new place and I kept saying when we have time again I will write. I was just too busy. But the truth was I kept adding in "more busy" to our life. I was literally keeping myself busy to avoid writing.

Months passed, and the fear started to take over. I was in a new place with new people and if I am honest I was desperate to make new roots. I had this idea that others would judge me for my writing. I was afraid to be my true self. I needed acceptance, being myself was risky. I wanted so badly to be right and I wasn't sure if I could write all the right things anymore.

At this point I told myself maybe I was putting too much of myself into my writing. I told myself I was opening too much of my heart to others. I told myself I needed privacy to protect me. I became afraid of sharing my writing. Something in me didn't even feel safe sharing with close friends and family.

I kept wanting to write. I prayed about it. I kept feeling a pull to just write again. And yet I was paralyzed. Stuck.

To still that voice I told myself I really wasn't equipped to be a writer. I don't really have the skills I told myself. Who was I to write about God? About family? About journeying through any bit of life? I was realizing I didn't have all the answers so why bother to write at all?

I tried to journal but at some point I just stopped trying. I tried to sort out my fears through prayer. The struggle was real.

Then my fear turned into something worse.

Doubt. Self Loathing. Shame. I became afraid of myself. I had convinced myself my writing didn't matter. It got to the point where I started to wonder if I mattered. I felt small, insignificant and unworthy.

My season of new beginnings became a season of winter.

I have been hiding and shutting out the source of who I am. My essential self, the core of who I am, suffered. I am a writer. That is who God wants me to be right now.

I stopped writing out of insecurity but ironically not writing was what made me feel less secure. My growth stopped and fear rooted in it's place. Like a garden where weeds have taken over and driven out the light, I struggled. I was tangled up in the roots of fear.

But oh to write again! It feels good to write, to create. I don't know how to explain it. When I write, there is this rhythm to it, and my thoughts and emotions take on a different essence. I never realized how much I was writing for myself. Typing up something like this, it proves I am alive. I still am here.

I think I had to go through this season of being uprooted and this season of winter to really know who I am. I never considered myself a creative person. But now I know that it is my own creation that stirs up a connection in my faith. That represents a core of who I am.

In my struggle I found something new. I found some new roots.

I don't know yet what these new roots will do but I am confident they are good. I can fully trust that God is leading me into a new season. I believe this season will be one of renewal and transformation. I'm ready now to embrace my new roots. I feel grounded and whole. I feel an awakening in my soul. My heart is full of anticipation of what is yet to come.

How my son taught me to be selfless

Most parents raise their kids hoping for them to be nice. They want their kids to be a good friend and to be kind to others. We want other things for our children too. Things like a focus on academics, or a drive to succeed in their job, or healthy relationships. We want them to live well-rounded lifestyles. But if we could pick one simple thing we would say we just want nice, happy adults.

As a parent myself, I tend to worry about my kids. I over-analyze their actions. Every time they argue, or refuse to share, or are rude I convince myself that I am messing it all up. Between my three kids, someone is always making me wonder if we are getting it right. Parenting is such a challenge, so up and down. My fear is that we will get it wrong and end up with a big bill in therapy someday. I work myself up because I am so focused on raising nice kids. Nice kids that I want to be nice adults someday.

Today, something changed my perspective.

My boys' school is collecting money for Pennies for Patients. It is for children with cancer. I kind of blew it off because well we had other things we were working on this month and I assumed that an 8 year old and a 5 year old were just not going to be interested in giving their spare change to any cause. I forgot all about their little collection boxes. Until today.

While we were preparing to leave today my five year old son Oliver was running through the house with his bag half open. As he shuffled through the kitchen I heard coins clunking around in his backpack and spilling out onto our floor. I stopped him to make him empty his bag and clean up the coins, thinking he was bringing money to school for fun. When I started to open his bag and told him not to bring money to school he stopped me. "Mom! WAIT!" He told me with his hand up. He scooped up the coins and pulled out his little collection box and put them all back in.

Then it hit me. Wow. He was bringing money to school to give, not for fun. I was flabbergasted. We hadn't even talked about the penny drive together.

I counted out his coins with him, curious what he decided to donate. He had a total of $1.03 in change. Such a tiny little offering. I asked him if he really wanted to give his money and if it was important to him. He nodded his head yes enthusiastically. He insisted on it. Kind of a proud moment for me. I told him that this was really special and that I would match his gift. So we pulled out my wallet and counted out more coins together until we had a total of two dollars and six cents. He was just giddy at this point and his little sister thought this was of course very exciting so she was jumping up and down too.

 This whole experience reminded me of the Widow's Offering in Mark 12:41-44.

And he sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. And he called his disciples to him and said to them, “Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.” 

I hugged him and I told him about the widow giving all that she could and how it was such a great gift. I told him his gift was like the widow's gift. It was small but it was great too.

My perspective changed today because of his willingness to empty his tiny little piggy bank. He wasn't just being nice. He was giving all that he could. He was being selfless. He was putting someone else before his own wants and needs.

Really, my son taught me a lesson about being selfless. His giving casts a big light on my own unwillingness to give. To my own reluctance to give joyfully. My son taught me that I need to look at my own self and do some thinking of my own. I need to be better about giving more of myself in several areas of my life. My adult mind struggles with this concept.Giving hurts sometimes. For him though it was easy. I want for my heart to be like his. I want to give with joy.

I don't just want "nice" kids anymore. I want us to be more selfless. I want kids that give from their heart in all that they do. I want givers. Givers that give something up and make sacrifices because it means helping someone in their moment of need. I want givers that use whatever they have available--time, money, talents-- to bless others. Because that is the right thing to do. Not just to be nice and polite. But to give people a little more than that. To give people yourself too.

Brave

The youth group served a meal tonight for families at the Willis Dady Emergency Shelter here in Cedar Rapids. We prepared a spaghetti dinner together at church before departing for the shelter. I had not been to this shelter before. I have served meals to homeless or needy families in the past but never here in Cedar Rapids.

I really wasn't sure what to expect from this visit. I knew we would eat a family style dinner with the people living there but I wasn't sure who I would meet and what I would face when I walked through those doors. I was somewhat anxious. Not because I was afraid. I was anxious because I wasn't sure who I would be called to serve.

The shelter's website has the following quote by one of my favorite authors.

"Sometimes you don't know when you are taking the first step through a door until you are already inside." -- Ann Voskamp

 This is a truth. We did serve many wonderful people tonight when we walked through those doors. Little did I know though that I would meet someone very special. Someone who would change me.

As we welcomed families in to grab a plate of dinner I met a mom and her little boy. The little boy's name was Tim*. He looked like he was about the age of my son Thomas. I asked him how old he was and found out he was 8, almost 9 he proudly told me, in third grade. His family recently moved to Cedar Rapids. We ate our spaghetti dinner and I told him he had to have brownie from the middle because they are the best ones. As we sat there we talked about school and making new friends in new places. He was a bright young boy, really smart and excited to tell me all about himself.

We talked about super heroes. He told me Spider Man is his favorite. Which of course I had to tell him that Captain America and Thor are my boys favorite super heroes. Marvel Comics have the best heroes. He told me he thought Captain America was the best super hero because he believes in doing the right thing and not just fighting bad guys.

I then found out he wants to be in the army when he grows up. Although he admitted last week he wanted to be a bounty hunter and before that he wanted to be a police officer. I asked him if he believed in protecting people and helping people. He agreed it was very important and I told him that I thought he would be good for a big job like that. I told him I know a police officer and a marine and maybe he will grow up to do big things some day just like these men.

We talked about his rainbow loom band bracelets he was wearing. I found out he was given both of them by friends. I couldn't help but think of my own kids and how they like exchanging bracelets with friends too. I swallowed hard. I knew our family was taking these simple joys like loom bracelets for granted. We don't appreciate all the "stuff" we have and I know it.

Before I knew it was time for Tim to leave. His mom thanked me many times and I know she was very appreciative for sitting with them and just talking to her son.

I am really honored to have met Tim today. He taught me that even the smallest person can be brave. He was in a new place and in a new school but he still had a smile on his face. I know he misses his old home and school. I know it had to be hard. I could see it on his face. Yet, he still had hope. For that I think he is the bravest person I have ever met. I was blessed to meet him. I think maybe he served me more than I served him.

I saw into someone else today. I walked through those doors and everything changed. I met someone very small but very important. I met a little boy named Tim. A little boy who just changed my world.

Tim, I see you.



*I have changed the name to protect this child's identity.

Unwritten

This is my prayer rock. I made it last year for a bible study group. We were asked to write down a word that best described our faith and to write it on the prayer rock. I thought and I thought and I really couldn't decide what best suited me. Every word I could think of didn't really describe my journey and what I felt in my heart.

As I held my rock cupped in my hands I was reminded of how throughout life we pick up rocks along the way. We carry burdens that weigh us down. Some rocks are regret, guilt, or shame. Others are mistakes we can't forgive ourselves for. Some are even feelings we carry with us when others throw their own rocks at us. Some are the size of pebbles and others are boulders. These rocks are all the trials we face in life great or small. Sometimes we beat ourselves up with these rocks. We carry them around and they weigh us down. It is hard to go places carrying rocks. They slow us down and hold us back.

But rocks are not permanent. Wind and water erode rocks and carry them away. Fire melts rock down to ashes. To dust.

Faith is kind of like that too. Jesus came into this world and loved us so much that he carried our burdens for us. He carried a cross, suffered greatly, and died for us. He even forgave us. After he died his disciples laid him in a tomb and sealed it with a huge boulder. It really isn't a mistake I think that when he rose from the dead that this rock was moved. His love for us is greater than any rock. Any obstacle. His love is greater than the burdens in our life.

Jesus taught us something incredibly powerful. Love is the greatest of all. His example teaches Christians everywhere that we are called to carry the burdens of others. This is the most powerful act of love that we can give. It means sometimes making choices outside of what we know from the Bible. It means sometimes using our hearts and not just our heads. It means doing the right thing even when it hurts. It means putting our own rocks down and picking up the rocks of our neighbors. It is following Jesus even when we don't know what the rest of our story is.

That is what faith is. Living out an unwritten story. It is trust. It is accepting all of the unknown and walking ahead. It is not easy. It is a journey we choose every day.

What this simple exercise made me realize is so much of my faith is still a blank canvas. My story is yet to unfold and is not finished. My faith is unwritten. It is unwritten because I have a choice. I have a choice to let God write my story.

God has written a story in all of our hearts. We are all called to love and serve one another. When we choose love, our story can be a wonderful part of God's creation. We follow Jesus and live the Gospel. WE become the story about God's love. Our story can be saying yes to God and letting him into our hearts. One day at a time.

I do still have a few rocks I carry. But what I am finding is that every day on this journey those rocks seem a lot smaller. These trials of this life will not hold me down. They will not break me. My prayer rock is a daily reminder of that.

I could choose to write my own story. Or I can choose to let my story to be unfinished. At first glance, it looks unwritten. However, I think it is the beginning of something more.

Our Family's 40 Day Challenge

Tomorrow is the first day of Lent for many Christians around the globe. To most people it brings up a mental image of ash crosses on foreheads, fish frys, and pancake dinners.

Growing up in a Catholic church we were encouraged as kids to give up something for 40 days. This was a simple way to eliminate perhaps a small vice we would be better without. It was also a means of honoring the ultimate sacrifice that Jesus made for us all when he died on the cross.

There are of course many different ways to reflect on our faith during Lent. There are prayer calendars with a different thing to pray for every week. I especially love this one from the United Methodist Church. There are gratitude journals like here at Momastery. There are 40 days of service challenges and mission projects to focus on acting out teachings of the bibles. Some people sacrifice and give up something for Lent. Many use Lent as a time of confession and repentance. 

Ultimately though, Lent is a time for personal growth and reflection.

As a challenge to myself I will be blogging through Lent this year.

Sounds crazy right? Yes, it sure is. But I think it will be a great goal to aspire to. Some of the topics I will cover are:

Unwritten

Why I Go to Church

Our Financial Peace Story

Putting God First

Words for a Purpose

Relationships are Important

Parenting Survival Mode

Moms Are Not the Same

It Takes a Village

Empowering Youth

Garden Friends

The 5:1 Rule

Let it Go

When Kids Make Church Hard

Walking the Second Mile

Who is God

The Under Served

A Passion Story

Worrying

Grace—Beautiful Grace

So my friends, I am inviting you to join me this Lent. I hope to inspire and encourage and share a few stories along the way and maybe just a bit of my own faith journey. I hope you will enjoy Our Family's 40 Day Challenge.

Blessings,

Jessica  

Emmanuel Is A Gift For Every Day

I have a million and one things to do today but I can't help it, I had to write out what I am feeling right now. Here we are, getting ready to travel for the holidays. I should be meticulously going over my to do list and packing and wrapping and plenty more. However, I just need to write some things out. I am filled with joy and I just can't keep it to myself.

Today, I helped my husband file a grant application for my children's school. He works for a company that every year offers grants to employees that volunteer locally in schools of up to $3000 for schools. Last year we helped a Cedar Rapids school receive funds for iPads and after school enrichment programs. This year we are applying for a grant for the Mount Vernon Elementary School. The funds will go towards new library books that the school is in great need of replacing. We will find out in February if the grant is approved but I am just so excited that we are in a position that we can help bless our community. It could be the book lover in me but giving $3000 in books really feels like Christmas!

It isn't just what is happening in our own home. This week I have been constantly reminded of all the blessings that God gives to us. We celebrated Oliver's 5th birthday yesterday but it is more than just that. I see blessings filling up the hearts of family and friend around me. I see reasons for joy everywhere.

My Facebook feed keeps lighting up with people sharing about carolers singing at their doorstep and strangers doing random acts of kindness. It is friends sharing how they donated to Toys for Tots. It is a group of moms helping another mom that needs help this Christmas. It is a picture of the Angel Tree at our church literally overflowing with Christmas gifts for children here in our city. These are just "small" things that have such a big impact on our communities.  When we give even the smallest of gifts, we give something more.

Earlier this month a friend shared that her adoption of two children from Ghana is going through. They have been on this journey to adopt for quite a long time. They have been through their fair share of challenges with many ups and downs. However, their hearts kept calling them to keep going forward. This week the visas for their children were finally approved. Even more of a blessing, they will fly home just two days before Christmas. It is the story of a real Christmas miracle. What a blessing to witness this miracle. Two children now have a loving home, all because they opened their hearts to God.

For over a year another friend has been battling lead in her home. Her son has lead poisoning and it has been a struggle for their family to manage. This fall their youngest child was also diagnosed with high lead levels. It was a blow to their family. However, with the support of friends they were able to push through and get some resources for her family. Friends and family and people from both Cedar Rapids and around the world have been pooling together through Lead Safe America Foundation to help. They now have enough funds for their family move into a temporary residence. Their family has been a blessing to hundreds of families here in Cedar Rapids. I love that our community is giving back to them when they need the love and support the most. I love that our community is selflessly supporting each other when we need each other. This is love.

So often we get busy during this season of the year. So often our lives stay too busy all year long. So often good news gets drowned out by all the bad things in life. These prove to me that good things still happen.

The reason for the season is not presents. The reason is Christ came to us many years ago as God's gift to us. God came to be with us. Emmanuel. God is with us. To witness these acts of giving and be a part of it, it gives me something more. It is life changing. It is transforming. To experience this is a real Christmas blessing.

These things are so encouraging to me. The empower me. They show me that the spirit of God is with us. That God is present in our lives. God is alive when we give to others. These are gifts of peace, joy, hope and the greatest gift of all: LOVE.

Christmas can be every day, because every day is an opportunity to give. Christmas is not December 25th. Christmas is forever. Every day is Christmas.

Give Peace.
Share Joy.
Be Hope.
Most of all, LOVE.

Every day. All the time. Forever.