armed

cold. bare. feet. 
hit the floor. 
I'm bankrupt. 
corrupt. exhausted. 
perplexed. 
I'm a shell of myself
ahead of myself. 
I'm behind already. 


Before I reach the door
before the words form,
the doubts and the fears
and the lies and the tears
want to come. 
Want to rise. 
Want to exercise their right
and their place
in my life. 


My defenses feel useless
my senses confused and
my day - 
already ruined.


Till I see it. 
red, cracked, worn. 
torn, ready, strong.
my Sword.


Life, here I come.
An army of one 
in a billion
of soldiers holding firm.


Fools for His Word!
It's food for our souls!
We've got nothing without it - 
we've got nothing without it. 


No wisdom
no truth
no light 
no proof.


Write Your Words on our hearts
so You can impart
Your grace
Your fame
Your life
Your name. 


Because I'm ready now, Lord. 
I'm armed. 

I want to tell a story.

the quotes in this post are bits & pieces of old writing 

A few years ago, woosh life was different. 


I think back to the fall of 2009 and I'm a little dumbfounded. 
I had three BABIES. I stayed at home about six days out of the week. 
My hours were a smattering of diaper changes, bottles, turkey chili, and more diapers. 

from a piece on introspection

I was isolated in so many ways and blogging and moreover, writing was such a release. 
I couldn't have told you how many people read my blog (not many) and I had no schedule for posting. I certainly didn't have a single sponsor and I tweeted about once a month. I wrote OFTEN. Maybe daily. Essays, poems, stories. Some horrible things and some that make me feel so fondly about that season. I felt so pitiful for just surviving my three under three, but now I want to go give that mama a hug and just cheer her on. 
Hey - if you're just surviving, THIS IS A HUG FROM ME. 

from a piece on beauty

Anyways, I think the quietness of that life led itself to so, so, so, so many words. 
Spilling forth. And the busyness of this season has silenced a lot of those. 
Between preschool/drop-off & pick up, blogging (which is not necessarily writing, mind you), emails, design, friends, family, activities - mostly the only thing I'm writing is "custom prints that still need to be designed" or "call pediatrician about medical records" or "put something on blog FAQ page" somewhere on my list. 

on old poem about hearing the Lord

But I found my old writing blog that is filled with some words that I would love to just chew on for hours. Some that are kind of boring or painfully hard to read. But some that made me just want to sit with a charged laptop, a full cup of coffee, and a clear mind and WRITE. 
So I'm asking the Lord for some words. I want to tell a story. 

things we found in the fire, #2

To catch up - here is segment #1.

On a particularly hard day of this little inferno, I didn’t really know what to do. I felt discouraged and called to peace and trust – so none of my normal methods of coping could ease my fears. By now I was starting to understand the answer was not yelling at my husband, worrying myself sick, crying to a friend, or even crying to the Lord. While some of those things (some) are certainly permissible, for me – they were far from beneficial.
The current battle was disappointing news and I knew I needed the Word – but for some reason I couldn’t turn to the normal trusting and faith verses – my heart was called somewhere else. Super vulnerable time. Do you have a big sin problem? Like, a really yuck one, that plagues you and makes you want to hide under your covers? Mine is blame. In my head, nothing is ever my fault. Here is the REALLY gross part – I usually don’t blame on the outside, so people can’t really call me out on it – I just do it in the comfort of my heart. So, I know that if I have a particularly stressful morning and Elias knocks over my coffee, in about ten minutes of yucky-inside-my-own-head-blaming, it will all be Nick’s fault somehow. (I told you it was gross).
To combat this, I’ve been storing up verses on marriage and wifehood and when something bad happens, and I know I’m going to start blaming Nick (even if it has nothing to do with him), I just read those verses. They’re literally written out in longhand in my journal. Pages and pages of truth about how to love your husband or how to be a righteous woman.
I got to one of my favorites – 1 Peter 3:4. … but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious. Sigh. Too bad. I suppose I’m discounted from this passage, because I will never possibly be gentle or quiet. On that day, I not only still felt extremely discouraged about the battle – but I felt defeated and unable to ever measure up to the standard of a woman of God.
For a few days, I thought on this and prayed on it. When I talked to the Lord in the mornings, I would ask very fervently for a gentle and quiet spirit. When I messed up with the kids and prayed with them, I would confess to them and the Lord that I had a lack of a gentle and quiet spirit. I asked Nick to pray for me concerning a gentle and quiet spirit. Still, I felt little hope. I know who I am. I know that I often interrupt people when I get excited (or just whenever), I know I don’t always speak in hushed voices, and I know that gentle and quiet are the two last words someone would ever use to describe me.
A while later, I was taking a shower (read: complete silence and no babies to hold – providing LOTS of peace) and felt the Lord unpack something for me. What He said was this,
“Would I have created you loud and rough? Would I have created you with an incredibly ability and propensity towards non-gentility and rough, sandpapery hands? NO.”
A professor I once had explained that the Lord can be a mystery and we can not know His ways – but He can’t be untrue or contradict Himself. So He wouldn’t long for me to be gentle and quiet and create me in the exact opposite manner, would He? Never. This means, at the core of my heart – at the part that is truly Christ in Jessi (the only good part), He has created me gentle and quiet.
Do you know how much easier it is to take off loud and rough than to build quiet and gentle within yourself? To create characteristics that you don’t understand? And it’s not just semantics – this changes everything. Specifically, everything changes because I can no longer discount myself from biblical womanhood due to the nature of my personality. What the heck is a personality? Some of it for certain is God-given and the rest is built, pieced together by ourselves. I’m done with that story.
He created me to love dancing with my kids and to be gentle and quiet. He created me to enjoy making people laugh and to be gentle and quiet. I’m made with a love of design and the ability to love Jesus with all of my womanhood. These things are no longer mutually exclusive for me.
And as I prayed through this and walked in the taking off of the old things (rather than the building of others), I saw how much easier it became. I could choose to (literally) whisper rather than yelling when disciplining my children – rather than praying for fifteen minutes each morning – begging the Lord to make me gentle. To treat my husband, the world, a stranger with gentility became so much more of a joy when I saw that it was truly the natural response.

So, that is one more thing I have found in this fire. That I was created to be a woman, and I can claim those biblical truths for myself.

things we found in the fire #1

I try to be careful when I’m writing. Especially blogs. I love to read about what others have learned and I love to be taught through words but I would despair if my words began to sound as if I’d been given authority to teach – since I haven’t. Outside of my sweet children, that is.

Anyhow, this season for us has been quite a fire. It’s been hot and hard and in my mind I’ve started to very easily refer to it as a fire. Is God putting out this fire? Is he fanning the flames for His Glory? As I prayed through these things – a phrase begin to roll around in my brain and at first it made me chuckle and then it made me glad, and now it makes me downright joyful. JOYFUL. Did you see the movie, “The things we lost in the fire”? I didn’t. It seemed super sad and too much for me to handle but in my head, I started referring to “the things we’ve FOUND in the fire”.

At first I thought these things were just for me, to keep going – to keep walking forward. To get on my hands and knees amidst the rubble and look for treasures. But, if my trial-and-error-slow-paced-learning and reflecting can be encouraging, I’d like to share these things I’ve found in the fire. Not teach or instruct, just humbly share. And for organization sake, we’ll make a little series out of it.

The first is simple and concise – probably known by all but me. And it is this – Doing the right thing when you don’t want to can be more profitable than you’ll ever know. Spiritually put – allowing the wisdom Christ has put in your heart to be turned into obedience at the right time, can be more profitable than you’ll ever know.

A few months ago, a friend shared this verse with me: The prudent sees danger and hides himself, but the simple go on and suffer for it. (prov 22:3) Unfortunately, I saw myself all over that description of a simple person. In life and specifically, in marriage, when I saw a hard time coming or I knew a day was already specifically rough – I could really clearly see two paths. One was to praise the Lord and walk forward in His grace. The other was to fear life, to fear man, and to take my pain out on any person in my path. In all honesty – the second option just felt good. To get bad news and blame someone felt like accomplishing something. When I become flustered with the kids, to go in my room and throw something released some tension. Even to outwardly bless my husband during a rough day and inwardly curse him seemed like a good choice because it gave me vindication and the appearance of godliness all in one. Complaining, focusing on my hurt, and sometimes ignoring life all together. Even sometimes, the seemingly neutral act of crying felt like a step forward and it felt good to express my fear or worry in that way.

But then maybe once, maybe twice after hearing this verse – I thought of the alternative. What if I didn’t scream or I didn’t cry or didn’t blame or complain. What if I took a moment to compose myself, closed my eyes and in my head screamed to Jesus, “I WANT TO TRUST YOU! HELP ME TO TRUST YOU!”. I found that it didn’t make me feel like a deflated balloon, without any power or will to keep living that day – but that when I would tell him very honestly what I was thinking – he would fill me for that minute with what I needed to keep going.

Then I tried it with the kids. Instead of yelling (or yelling on the inside with for a false sense of gentleness), I blinked hard a few times and asked the Lord to give me His eyes when I opened them again. Or with Nick, on a particularly discouraging day, when we were minutes from screaming at one another and slamming doors – we’d sit and hold hands and just talk to the Lord. What I saw when it dawned on me to look, was little pieces of fruit popping up around our house and marriage. We were still in the fire, but we could laugh and love and praise Jesus together rather than ripping one another apart.

I feel like such a high school bible study leader, but the fact is simple: it’s much easier to do the right thing on easy days than it is to do them on hard days. When life feels manageable and settled, do you know how easy it is to choose to pray? To praise? To teach grace and peace to your babes? But when you actually feel like your world is kind of crumbling and you feel like a failure and you’re not totally sure where your food will come from next week – it is immensely difficult. It’s much easier to yell, or cry, or plan but what we had to do was praise. To bless. To pray. And when we lifted our heads and said, “amen” – the answer wasn’t always there – but a little tiny piece of fruit was.

And now, when this fire is truly over – I have two good gifts given by father. A) The word of my testimony. To be able to say, “this is what it was like and this is what He is always like for us”. To say, when we praised Him, it felt like what we were supposed to do and we should praise Him because He is always good. And B)a comparison. If I can praise the Lord in the fire, I can praise Him when I get cut off while driving or when someone hurts my feelings or when a kid smears poop all over my sofa for fun. I can praise Him, always.

More to come.

I'm a mess

To say this has been a hard few months sounds almost silly.
We haven't had many life altering days or tragic events but just a combination of really hard, tiring days stringed together with very little fruit - besides spiritual.

Without going into too much detail, we're just struggling much like the rest of the country - financially, but all while coming off of a missionary-support-raising budget and in the middle of trying to really figure out just what state we're supposed to be in. Nick's heart is in Boston. It just is. I feel super attached to him and what he does, but goodness - I love it here. He is working his tail off and I'm working my tail off trying to raise these kids - but it's still just confusing and hard to understand. We'll think we see what the Lord is doing and what step we are supposed to take and then, woosh - it's gone. There have been so many days like that in the past few months, I can't begin to describe.

So, by the time this last possibility arose, I felt like I could guard my heart and still pray for God's hand to move. We prayed, prayed, prayed, asked others to pray, pray, pray and it seemed hopeful - and it didn't work out.

I was with Nick when he found out and I can't begin to tell you how positive he was, how he never, ever doubts the Lord, how he is mostly concerned with how I feel - if I'm ok. And I wasn't. I wasn't angry with Him or doubting His plan or His goodness - I was just really scared of the immediate. What will happen to us? How in the world are we going to be ok? How will we get out of this mess?

I spent about an hour there. I called my mom & my sister as the kids napped, whispering, because if I talked louder than a whisper I'd start crying again - and they both gave me scripture and prayed with me. Then I just pulled out my Bible and cried to Him and over and over, I said, "this is such a mess! this is such a mess! this is such a mess!" and this is what He spoke to my heart:

I looked around and saw a house that is warm, with a roof, with food to feed our children. For today, tonight, we live here in this great house. I thought to those babes in their various sleeping apparatuses and thought - they are all healthy, all have full bellies, with no massive problems that an animal cracker and a kiss from mama can't solve. Then I thought about my husband, planning & praying, doing his best to figure out what is best for us. Working in the rain and the cold doing construction to provide as much as possible - with full faith that the Lord will take care of us.

So what's really a mess? The only mess I saw was me.
A crying, blubbering mess on the sofa, wasting my naptime solitude on some tears.

The immediate future is fine, more than fine. Blessed.
So any tears, any concerns - are for the future which could be classified as worrying which should be classified as sin. This is a temporary mess. And Lord, I pray temporary really looks temporary. I pray this is the worst it gets. But if it doesn't? What are we looking at? God will still be God. He will still be good.

Romans 8:18 says,
"For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us."

So the facts are:
- Things aren't as bad as they could be, in fact, we're blessed.
- I have no idea what the future holds and becoming a mess over it is just plain silly.
(and wasteful of a really good naptime)
- Even if the present gets much worse, it still won't be anything in comparison to the glory (of Himself) that He that He will reveal to us.

hosanna

Lately I've been slowly crawling my way through the book of Matthew.

Today in Matthew 21, I was reading about Jesus' triumphal entry. There were many observations and things that caught the attention of my heart - but one big thing was the use of the word Hosanna. I feel like I've read, said, prayed, sung that word but today I decided to read more into the meaning and find out where else it was used in the Bible.

Hosanna means "O save!" or "He saves" or "save us".
Just recently I've felt comfort in crying that to Him.
Save me from my sin!
Save my children!
Save the lost that I love!
Rescue us from this season!

I told a friend yesterday that God's word was reminding me to beg Him. Reminding me to cry to Him. Reminding me that this brings Him glory and then, that when I pull myself off of the floor and walk forward into the day with the faith that He gives me, it brings peace to beg.

So I started reading the uses of the phrase Hosanna in the Old Testament.
And what did I find?

2 Sam 14:4-7
2 Kings 6: 25-31
1 Kings 3:16-28

Desperate women. Just desperate.
Sinful, awful, messed up women with no way to handle their own mess.
Seriously - read those passages with caution because you will find some hard stories.
But they knew who to go to, their King.

And so do I.

Just another sweet reminder that we don't have to package ourselves to come to Jesus.
We don't need a plan or perfection.
I pray that these days where I beg "Hosanna" will help me to sing it on the days where things don't seem so dismal, when I would normally think I could do it on my own.
I hope those days I will remember that we all need saving, all the time.

8 years o' bliss.

My dearest Nicholas...

I want to give you a blog tribute on our 8th anniversary of being a couple and I think since one of our favorite past times is laughing together, this will be a funny and lighthearted list of some of my favorite memories with you.

- Beginning on our first date, October 27th 2001, one of my favorite memories was that our friends toilet papered your car while we were in the movie theater. Little did they know it would freeze and rip the paint off your car - but your laughter and patience was a great way to start a life with me.

- I loved doing "touchdown hugs" and "first-down kisses" with you at Carolina football games in college. A) I'm not sure I would have gone to a game otherwise and B) I can't believe how into pda's we were then. Yikes.

- I loved dancing with your at our wedding. Loved.

- One of my favorite memories was when we were in college and particularly stressed out about the six zillion classes we were taking and you whisked me away to the mountains for the day and emailed all my professors to let them know I would be gone. Can we do that again?

- For eight years you've encouraged my heart often with sweet notes left for me in random places. Heartfelt words, jokes, and an inappropriate-for-internet comment or two have really done my heart good.

- I loved the hour or so after Elias was born. Seeing someone transform into a Daddy is a crazy thing. And you are such a great one.

- I love spending time with you, Josh, & Katie. How many hours have the four of us laughed together? Talked about Jesus? Can we do that again, too?

- I really appreciate that you didn't walk out on me that first year during my cooking attempts. Not to mention the time I baked a broken ceramic bowl into the brownies and almost lacerated our company's throats. I guess that wasn't really a lighthearted memory.

- Seeing you & Glory in any capacity warms my heart. Especially when you tear up a little when she puts her princess crown on.

- I have this one sweet memory of you that you might not remember. One night, super late, when we were in college and it was exams and it was raining. We left the library and walked around the horseshoe and sat on the cobblestone and I put my held on your shoulder and we just sat there.

- I will always be thankful for the night that you took me to walmart at 2am when I accidentally dyed my hair green/gray/black.

- Thanks for always understanding my obsession with reality tv. Giving me Laguna Beach on DVD for a wedding present, turning off sports for RHONewJersey, & putting up with Rachel Zoe reruns.

- Thank you for writing me papers on theological issues I don't understand or giving me bible homework to help me grow. My favorites so far have been, "Why we're reformed" and the study on marriage. You're so great.

- I love nights with you and Benjamin. Him laughing at us, and us laughing back. I love to laugh with you and you've taught our babies well in the art of fun. Not to mention the amazing things you teach them about following Jesus by doing it so well. 

It's been a joy and a gift to grow up with you.

From seventeen to twenty five.

I can't wait for eight more.

love you boo. 

mary's song.

(sunday afternoon commentary) 

jessi: i have no blogs in my head at all. i usually write all my blogs for the week on sunday and i have no ideas. 

nick: what about today's sermon?

jessi: that feels too big to write about.

nick: then you should do it. 

you know, to wrap your brain around it. 

Today Pastor Mark unpacked Mary's song from Luke. I think I've read this dozens of times, hoping something jumps out at me and yet it's always felt so far & un-relatable. 

My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for He has looked on the humble estate of His servant. For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for He is who mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name. And His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation. He has strength in His arm; He has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; He has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate; He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich He has sent away empty. He has helped His servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy, as He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and his offspring forever. 

Ok, let me back up. I think we were both in college when my sister lovingly told me, "when you can't win at something - you take your ball & go home". Unfortunately, she was totally right and those words have been an encouragement to me over the years. I have a massive problem with not trying things if I believe I'll fail or just literally crumbling when I am perceived to be imperfect. What a joke, right? Because I know I'm not perfect. Trust me, I KNOW I'm not perfect. My best friends know I'm not perfect. My family knows I'm very, very, very far from perfect. But there has always been this thing in my heart that shuts down when I know I can't master something or when I know I can't control my own competency - I back away. 

For the most part, motherhood has helped shake this up. I don't look the best, I'm not the best mom or wife I know, and being at Mars Hill has provided countless examples of women who truly excel and have no need to compete so I've been content to learn and watch and not be the best or have something to add or teach. The Lord has given me peace in a season of learning and growing and that became my focus and I have truly, truly loved it. 

But old problems die hard, right? In the past few weeks, I've felt something just crumbling at the core. I've wanted to run out of rooms filled with friends, replayed dumb things said or not said, and have battered myself mentally night after night for bad decisions. When I let those images float past one after the other in my head, I can see clearly now the look on my face was consistent with the sin in my heart - shame. This season has truly just been a massive storm in our lives - with the rain pelting against us and the wind never. letting. up. God has been so good and so big and so real to us - but I'm afraid that part is sometimes just for us to see and just for us to praise Him for. So what I end up feeling like the world sees, is us - battered and wet and tired and red in the face. Clinging to one another and feebly raising our wrinkled hands to Him. 

So, back to Mary's song. 

When Pastor Mark started speaking, I said in my heart (a little louder than normal) what I normally say in response to verses like these. "This doesn't apply to you because you're not Mary - you're not that Holy. You haven't been faithful for all time & you're just not the same." I suppose my selfish, sinful heart usually says these lines much quieter - but today it was loud enough that it jolted me and I questioned it for the first time in a while. No, I'm not Mary. But she was sinful. I have not endured these trials perfectly or this life with complete praise, but I don't believe she did either. And surely, Pastor Mark wouldn't be offering these words as an option for us if we were ineligible. 

Because the thing is - I believe the parts about the goodness of God. 

He has looked on my humble estate, check. 

Done great things for me, definitely. 

My Savior - absolutely. 

But is His mercy for me? 

Am I one of the humble ones? 

Or am I the desperate woman begging for forgiveness & running in shame when it's granted. 

These are hard, big things to begin to wrap my brain around it but I have a feeling I'm not the only woman who tries to discount herself for the reach of God's grace and mercy. Moreover, it takes so much faith and self-denial to swallow whole the fact that we will never be worthy of praising Him and yet, He enables us to do it anyhow. So the past few months have been really hard. I can't dress that up or sweep it under the table and oh, goodness - I'd like too. 

But here is my song: 

No matter what comes, Lord - we will praise You.

If this is the smallest or largest storm we encounter for the rest of our lives, we will praise You. You have literally, never not held us. Never not provided. Never not loved. 

You sustain our hearts when the world fails us and when we fail. 

You wipe the shame from my face when humility, self-sufficiency, & pride get too confused & mingled and I can't distinguish where I stand. 

Where my weakness begins, your strength endures and carries on. 

Not only did you save my soul and give the gift of life, but you've given each good gift. 

Such good gifts. 

And if you took them back, you would still be Good. 

I pray that the generations to come would call me Blessed, never because of what I had to offer - but because of all that you gave. 

Amen. 

so many.

(this is quite a long one, buckle up)

It's funny to be passionate about something because the tendency to talk about it frequently without swallowing it whole is so easy to slip into. Christians know this well. We love Jesus, we have made Him the point with which our life revolves around and sometimes we can just talk, talk, talk about Him all day without being changed by Him - without being astounded by His love. A little bit we have to sort of live in this half reality or we'd probably just be on our knees in worship all day, sort of like in Heaven when we won't be able to be distracted by actual life.

Anyhow, I think things we're passionate about (in Christ or outside of Him) can get like this too. Something becomes our "thing" so much, that we lose sight of it - of why it's important. We lose the ability to let it stun us, knock us over with how much it means.

For a year and a half, we worked for a ministry that's sole point was providing a home so women had a place to receive support, rather than having abortions. I saw the beauty of girls making the hard decision to put someone else's needs above their own and I saw families welcome these babies with an unmeasurable love, not even slightly quantitatively different than their own biological children. Simply put, I could very easily consider being pro-life and pro-adoption "my thing".

First, I should make the distinction that I'm not talking in political terms - but biblical ones. I know that I know that I know that God cares for, loves, and values babies from the minute of conception. I also know deep in my core that James 1:27 is not messing around when it says that pure & undefiled religion is taking care of orphans and widows. Politics aside, the church is responsible for this. So - I'm passionate about these issues but I've let myself get distracted a bit, I've carried on and let the words abortion and orphan get much too neutral in my mouth and head.

So sometime last week, I was just hanging out with Nick and my heart was very literally prompted by the Holy Spirit to research. All of a sudden, I needed numbers. How many orphans? Where were they? In the US? What continents? How much did it cost? How long did it take? Nick and I have always known in the back of our heads and have always said very casually that eventually we would adopt one day. But this felt very different and I'll explain why. I thought about my three children - sleeping in their beds and imagined the way my heart would ache if I couldn't show them love for a whole day. What if they had to go to sleep without Nick or I kissing them or telling them we loved them or praying for their tender hearts? If they missed just that single activity, the Lord would sustain them and they'd go on to live another day but gosh... I'd feel bad. It would kind of wreck me to think about them falling asleep without feeling loved and protected, without them having God's word read to them, without some food in their bellies.

So there are three of them.
Three precious babies who are the biggest blessings ever.
Three hearts needing to hear.
And there are 44 million orphans worldwide.
Blessings, all of them.
Needing to hear.

So I think about holding my three babies, sometimes all at once like I do during Connolly cuddle sessions and squeezing them tight and trying to love them through my hands and praying for them as my arms surround them, my heart just breaking at how much I love them and how badly I want to show them how much Jesus loves them. And then I think about those 44 million. Who will hold them? Who is going to squeeze them and tell them about Jesus? Oh, He loves them so much! So much more than I do! And if He loves them so much more than the sparrows, will He not feed them? He will - but still, I have these two arms.

So - I sat on that for a few days. Then today, our courageous Pastor Mark spoke on Luke 1, where Mary visits Elizabeth while they are pregnant with James and John and used it as a great opportunity to address abortion. Through the entire sermon, I felt the Holy Spirit prodding me and telling me this too is an issue that I have let grow stagnant and neutral - knowing that I am against it, but not praying for those who potentially will or regretfully have, aborted their children. One in six women who abort their children claim to be evangelical Christians. The church is obviously not addressing this issue or offering the support to these women.

So I think about my kids.
My three kids.
All blessings.
And then I think about the potentially 250,000 babies that will be aborted by Christian women alone this year.

44 million orphans.
1.3 million aborted in the US alone, this year.
One body of Christ, what can we do?
One Connolly family, what can we do?


Here is where I'm starting.
Pastor Mark's sermon
New Beginnings
Leigh & Gray's adoption
All God's Children
A concise article on potentially abortive birth control

There are so many.
Where are you going to start?

ten years old

Ten years ago this month, Jesus gave me new life.
It feels too big to describe that night, or maybe too abstract because it was truly a second-long experience where He reached into my heart and, the next minute - everything was different.

Maybe some day - we could have coffee and I'll tell you about it.

What do I say about these last ten years?
I'll tell you - I certainly feel like a ten year old child when it comes to maturity.

Ten years ago & still some days I wonder at what secret is in my heart that makes life seem sweeter and softer, then I remember it's Jesus. On days where I feel like I could not be more of a dumb-dumb and I feel a million miles away from the beginning of sanctification, I only have to think for two and a half seconds about how empty I was before Him and I'm relieved.

Relieved that I know truth and grace and Love.
So, thank You Lord for ten years of slow, but sure growth.
I can't wait for eleven.

an essay on the princess.

Sometime last weekend, Miss Gloriana pointed at herself and said, "I pwincess". 

I giggled & said, "Well, yes - you are baby". 

I'm sure her dad & I have called her this as a pet name before, even though I'm sure it's not one we use too commonly. I just thought, well she picked up on that quick. 

The more I thought about it, though, I wondered about how she understood. We don't have a single princess movie or book and while she loves to play with my earrings, makeup, & headbands - she is just as happy watching cars or playing trucks with her brother. 

Then this Saturday, Nick took the kiddos to the library to check out some new movies and he said when he saw Cinderella, Glory immediately started just shreaking, 

"PRINCESS! PRINCESS! PRINCESS!"

When she walked in the door and showed me her new movie, what did I hear but - 

"PRINCESS! PRINCESS! PRINCESS!"

After lunch, during her "nap", she did nothing but stand up in her crib screaming - 

"PRINCESS! PRINCESS! PRINCESS!"

So, that's how I came to be sitting on the couch watching Cinderella with Gloriana on a Saturday afternoon when we both should have been napping. 

Well, typical Glor, she watched for about ten minutes, then got up to go wander around the room. But true to her normal self, the second any music came on - she shot her hands up in the air, waving and dancing. She loves music, loves to dance, to sway, to think on things that a princess would. But the love part? She has no time for that. No time to watch the romance develop, no time to watch the prince pursue... she just wants to skip to the part where the princess gets to dance. 

So, I don't have any shame in the fact that my daughter loves to think about being a princess, because surely she is. I pray that one day she will count herself as a daughter of our heavenly family and I think in Jesus' eyes - she will be one of the most lovely princesses ever. Until then, I can't help but learn from her. Play a good worship song that moves me, and these hands will shoot right up. Lay hands on a friend for prayer and I'll be right there. But when it's Saturday afternoon and I'd rather play - is there room in my heart to pay attention to the pursuit of my King? Moreover, as the story unfolds and I realize it has nothing to do with my glory and everything to do with His - will I keep reading? These silly jewels look like dull rocks in comparison to the crown of thorns that my Prince is wearing. 

There's a lot more to being a princess than dancing. 

not a natural.

What does it mean to really know someone? To get them? Knowing their favorites, their habits, their likes and dislikes? I'll tell you what - facebook and blogs and twitter, they give a false sense of knowing someone. Sometimes randomly, someone I don't know well, meaning in person, will make a comment about how they always knew I'd get married & have lots of babies. Or they always thought I was a natural at this. Seriously? Could you have given me a heads-up? Because I thought I was supposed to be something important to the world, someone that I deemed as necessary or needed or loved. 

Now let me back up, because you're probably thinking that I don't think being a mother and a wife is important - but I do. If I didn't love on my kids and change their diapers and make them muffins and read the bible to them, my husband wouldn't feel free, wouldn't feel totally safe in going to be the gospel in the world - whether he is doing it while working construction or at a church. He also couldn't provide for us, which I know makes him feel at peace. And, listen - it's not only indirect ministry by freeing him up to go, it is a very direct connection with a people group that has a deep need. Jesus is using my discipline to teach Elias that he is a sinner with a need to confess & be forgiven. He is using my love to teach all three of them that they are cherished by Him more than they'll ever understand. Most days, he teaches Glory and I at once in our failure to ask for help and roots out our stubborn, selfish, ridiculous desire to do it all ourselves. So, that's good. No - it's great. 

But this doesn't come naturally. What would come naturally to me would be something totally different. So, sometimes at playgroups and church and gatherings - I look around me at these women and it seems to come so natural. They really genuinely desire to be amazing wives and mamas, while most days I get there thru the back door. I wake up with my own agenda, pout for about 45 minutes and then work through the mental steps to remember that this is direct & indirect ministry and that it is important work Jesus is doing. And then, I want to do it. 

So most days, I ask Him - 'Hey, if You knew this is where I was headed - why didn't You prepare me for this? It may have been a little more of a smooth transition if I had dreamed of it or longed for it or if I really found joy in laundry? Don't you think?". On those days, I don't really get an answer from Him, but I feel conviction in my heart now to question His plan, so instead I choose to be thankful for it. I love it. I love it. I really love it, warning or not. 

So today, these words hit that spot and washed a balm over it. 

I hear the Savior say, 

"Thy strength indeed is small; 

Child of weakness, watch and pray, 

Find in Me thine all in all." 

Jesus paid it all, 

All to Him I owe; 

Sin had left a crimson stain, 

He washed it white as snow. 

For nothing good have I 

Whereby Thy grace to claim, 

I'll wash my garments white 

In the blood of Calv'ry's Lamb. 

And when before the throne 

I stand in Him complete, 

I'll lay my trophies down 

All down at Jesus' feet. 

Jesus paid it all, 

All to Him I owe; 

Sin had left a crimson stain, 

He washed it white as snow. 

And now I'm glad it doesn't come naturally. I'm relieved that at the end of the day, it is very simple to see what was Jesus and what was Jessi.

 The good He gets credit for, the rest was me. 

an essay on walking

There are things in life that are hard, but good & sometimes you choose them thinking they're good for you, pleasing to you. And they make you more like Christ, even though they don't make you more happy all the time. People tell you that they're hard and you pretend to listen - but you really think they're good. A little while later and you're waist deep and you believe those people now, but then you see Christ in yourself and you smile. Marriage, Mothering. Those things are like that. 

But there isn't a ton of stuff that you walk into knowing just how hard it is and still doing it willingly. Except when you walk and push three kids in a massive stroller a few times each week up and down the hills in your neighborhood. In the morning, I start thinking about. "oh poop. we have to go on a walk today. i need the exercise, they need to get out. i WILL do it." Then at lunch, "oh man - that walk is coming up". Then after naptime, I go ahead and tell the kids we're going on a w-a-l-k, just so I can't get out of it. Load up that massive train stroller and set out. 

Sure it's great that Glory is so happy her little toes twirl just above the pavement. It's sweet that Elias gets to see all the cars and the puppups and that he still thinks it is a small miracle that we can WALK to the store and don't even need a car. I appreciate that Benjamin looks  into the sunlight and falls asleep smiling at my grunting face that is glistening with sweat and is lit from behind by the brightness. All that stuff is nice, but I hate that walk. 

Every step, every psycho push up the hilly roads... I know how hard it is and I hate it and I hope I never have to do it again. But I know I'll do it again soon. But I guess life is full, each day is full of those things. 

Hard, heaving walks that seem fruitless and are worth more than our eyes can see. 

the war

Lately each day has been filled with like sixty small battles. Battles for my children's behavior, battles for faith in our finances, battles for faith in God, for how to be a good friend, fighting to understand missional community when it is hard, struggling against homesickness - for the fireflies and family of the South and for heaven as well. And obvi, the battle of post-tres-baby-weight. I just feel like I fight all day - in my heart, in my prayers, with my hands. I told my accountability group last week, it just feels like I've been gritting my teeth for a month.

Tonight Nick and I were kind of passing each other in the house like ghosts, bewildered at the day. A hilariously horrible inexplicable bank error set us back in a bad way, our babies had been crying their heads off all day, and it just seemed that nothing at all was the way it should be. God's grace is evident, in ways I can't begin to count - but still things are not right, and not even by my standards - one plus one just isn't equally two. 

Then at nine pm, Elias just start shrieking from his bed. Just screaming. Our former good sleeping babies have been going to bed crying and waking up before dawn crabby. No sleep advice helps, no rhyme or reason - but it is an equation gone wrong that we've begun to live with. So I was holding him and thinking about the battles and it hit Nick and I at once. He said it as I was thinking it, this is a spiritual battle. All of it. This whole time I've been thinking "poor me, having to fight so hard" and Jesus has been trying to open my eyes to our true enemy. I've been praying through Ephesians six for and with the kids and suddenly, those words were all rushing through my mind for our family. I'll leave you with them so you can pray for us, that we'd hear truth and read and believe. 

There may be more battles to fight, but this war has already been won by Jesus. 

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might.  Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints, and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak.

amen. 

some light reading for ya

One thing I've found myself saying a lot lately is how thankful I am for the heart God has given me for the issue of babies and raising children in general. I'm not saying how to raise children - because I'm years at least from understanding that, but I feel like my mind is beginning to grasp what the Word says about these little gifts. I find myself using the words, "open hands" a good deal because I feel like we are supposed to openly receive the blessing of children and all at once, hold them open to the Lord, vulnerable to the way he chooses to glorify Himself through them.

I started writing about my journey to having open hands and realized then it was way too long to just post on a regular old blog. So I've cut it up into pieces and I'm posting it unedited on my writing blog. I may eventually get my writing group to read and critique it, but for now I feel like the main purpose was me documenting the process of going from haphazardly jumping into motherhood to daily learning to appreciate this crazy gift.

I would love it if was helpful or even familiar for the mothers-yet-to-be or the ones in the thick of it. Feel free to read it here and throw me a bone and write about your journey so I can read that when Glory wakes up at 4am for a bottle or when Nick is gone on Monday night for school. Our experiences (and mistakes) are so much more valuable when we share them with others.
Thanks friends! Jessi

love me some lauren

my girl, lo, just let me read some writing and I had to share these lines with the world:

how can i ever feel comfortable, all the while knowing the capacity for pain?

there's nothing worse than being loved--but as someone very different from yourself.

i am full to the top--things to say--fears to speak out loud, and vanish into whatever place spoken insecurities go to die.

Anxious Heart

So it's Thursday morning and I've been up since five thirty - unable to sleep. Please tell me my little early morning nesting skills are not kicking in already. My boys are still asleep - together since E decided to grace us with his presence at 5am:) They're really precious together. Sometimes they snore in harmony.

I just feel somewhat on the cusp of life today. I know that sounds cheezy & silly but I just feel like we're at this major crossroads and either way we go - we're walking with Christ. I can't stop thinking about baby#2 and how we found out what it is next week... This weekend is running through my mind and the vast opportunities it brings. I'm excited about date night and time to download with Nick tonight.

So while I was rummaging through my heart and the internet this morning - I found this thing I wrote in feb. 06. It's not at all supposed to be beautiful or eloquent... but it's my heart right now as well. Hope you relate.

Open
fingers in my ears, I scream at the top of my lungs LA LA LA LA,

I hear myself, my needs, my fears.

My self, my voice, my unrest.

Justification over sanctification -explanation
over expansion - comfort isn't always complacency...

These lies I believe, the
hope I receive from myself, my world, my view

I see what I need to see

In your word: I read what I need to read

The louder I talk, the stronger the story

But all I do, all I think, all I say - Does it compare? distract?

Is it even cohesive with your story?

My habits, our plans, the path: Our way, at the end of the day,
is it what you

Wanted?Needed? Desired? Heeded?

pry me open.break my locks.

I'll hand you the key - albeit increasingly reluctantly.

This is Your head, Your heart, Your life, Your girl.

These are more than words -more than letters falling numbly to the page.

My pledge;my cry;my need.

Yes, the tension in responding to
Your call wells up -but the life You offer - in comparison to this -

is far too great.

Open our minds, sweep through our hearts,invade our futile and failing plans.

Expose our inabilities, capture the You in me.

Rip it out, make it first.

Feed this world Lord, quench our thirst.

must read.

PLEASE read the following. My friend and hero, Kelly Cowan, mother of two sweet twin girls wrote this. Her girls, Kanah and Grace, were born April 25th and I absolutely cannot wait to meet them. Kelly was one of the leaders at Forest Hill when I was in the youth group and her husband, Jason, is one of Nick's best friends and one of his life coaches:). Here's Kelly's website for more goodness -
http://http://kellycowan.spaces.live.com/default.aspx




July 23
Crown
I'm a mom. It's wild to suddenly have a new title. It took me years to get used to "wife". You feel instantly aged, like you've put a shirt on that's too big and you're swimming. Well, I guess I don't want to be wearing big shirts anymore. Another word picture - like my first day at a new job. You kind of sit there sliding things around on your desk, wishing the IT dept would get your computer hooked up so you can look like you know what you're doing. Is this word picture working either? ;) Anyway, it's a sudden newness that you've been looking forward to and in this one instant you have a new name. Other people seem used to it before I am. Interesting isn't it, those who know me least are most comfortable with the title "mom" for me because they get to know who I am now, not who I've been - the me that was wide eyed at the mystifying thought of becoming a mom. Then friends and family warm up to it and more and more see me this way - I guess nine months of a growing belly is helpful. And then there I am, still cocking my head to the side at that word on the page, even though the whole world is nice and comfy placing that gorgeous crown of honor on my head. And surely it is not just a word, it is a crown. Kanah and Grace watch it shimmering on my head. They gaze at me in a way that seems to make it valid more than hearing the actual word off any tongue. They have no idea what is going on in the world but they do know a truth and that is that I am a big, important "blob" (they can't see great yet) that's always around, loving them. And later we will teach them that the word their world has chosen for their big, important, loving blob is "mom". I was recently asked by my father in law what it was like to be a mom. It's everything I can't say about how I feel when Kanah or Grace look at me. Their eyes call me to something. Their eyes speak life into me. Their eyes tell me who to be for them. Their eyes stir up something new in me that the Lord put there for me to become...for them. Not for me. For them. So being a "mom" feels heavy, feels deep, feels like this vast field that I run in, clutching the hands of my husband and little girls. And it feels so good. I used to not be so sure if I was ready to be a mom. It was a word I pushed off for a while. I didn't realize being a mom was a crown. So I wasn't sure if I wanted it. I thought it was just a big shirt. But it turns out it was a big crown. And it's really beautiful and right and good. There, now I have my word picture.