God Moves :)

So, I am trying to figure out exactly how I'm going to write this blog post. As I tell everyone I'm going to start at the beginning and go all the way to the end. Then stop. Sound good? I sure hope so, here goes. Disclaimer: This may be a pretty long read, so get settled in, and stick with me.

Okay, so the story you are about to hear is the story of me. My life, what God has done for and through me, and all the little bits in between. Okay, so..hmm this is a bit harder than I thought it'd be.

I am Jenna Reynolds, as you all well know, and my parents are Victoria Ham and Scott Reynolds. Biologically, that is, we'll get to that a little later. My parent's married young, really young, like my age. (I know what you're thinking, and not gonna happen). They had me and that's the beginning, it's so interesting, I know. When I was about 3 1/2, my parents had my little sister, Fallon, who has come to be one of my very best friends. (The story picks up, I swear)

Around the age of five, my parent's had some problems and ended up getting divorced. I honestly can't remember too much of this part of my life, so it was weird, but I was probably more confused than hurt. We stayed with my mom and would visit my dad on weekends, and it seemed to work out pretty well for us. I took on the role of wanting to be the "protector" since we no longer had a man readily available to perform that job. I liked it just being the three of us, either mom, Fallon, and I or dad, Fallon, and I.

Dad and Mom would date other people, but generally I would shun anyone who tried to make their way into our lives. We didn't need anyone, we just needed each other. Other people would complicate our already perfected group dynamic. Just as I am now, I was pretty vocal about how much I disliked these men and women. They knew they were not welcome. I was a bitter little girl that didn't want things to change anymore than they already had. After all, my parent's had a chance of getting back together if they weren't with someone else right? At least, that's what every girl or boy would dream.

Three seemed like the magic number for me in those years, I had two best friends, Zach and Emily. We were the "three musketeers". No fourth member necessary. I didn't need to be close to anyone, or so I thought. I already had friends, no need for new ones? Right? Well, you see, elementary school ends, and sometimes that means you have to go to a new school.

Around the age of 7, my mom married a man named Mark Ham. We didn't get along to say the least. He ruined my idea of a family by instituting a fourth member. He knew. He knew that I didn't accept him, but he married my mom anyway. For years and years and (did I mention years?) we argued, getting into LOUD and heated fights. I was emotionally drained all the time and focusing more on what Jenna wanted than anything else.

Did I mention I was a daddy's girl? In my eyes, my father could do no wrong. Sure, he was an alcoholic. We can handle that. Sure, he got into some drugs. No big deal. He loved us more. He always would. I HAD a dad, I sure didn't need a new one. My dad is fun, he's hilarious, and sure he made some bad choices, but who doesn't? I never gave Mark those same privileges.

I had turned into a monster. During all of this, my life started in a downward spiral. My dad started going through things and missing our visits. We saw each other on weekends. Then once a week, for a day. Then once a month. Then we didn't see him for an entire year. I was broken. This man that I had put up on a pedestal was crumbling before my very eyes. At one point, we weren't even allowed to go anywhere with him. If we wanted to meet, we could meet at the court house for ONE HOUR, with some random lady there watching us the whole time. Those were dark days. I would cry myself to sleep, wondering what I ever did to deserve this.

My mom became my rock, she was there through it all. And I do mean it all. Through the rebellion, through the anger, and through many gallons of tears. She kept me strong and always reminded me that God was there, even if I didn't feel Him. Without her there, I would have fallen apart completely.

With me being the protective person that I was, and am, made it hard for Mark to be the "man" in the family. I guess, after my parents divorce, I assigned myself as the protector, the one who would keep the family together, and the one who would always be there. I would not, could not, let my family down.

Me and Mark always butted heads, probably somewhat due to my selfish desire to "be the man" (metaphorically) in the family. I resented him for coming into our lives and just wanted things to be back to the way they were. But that would never happen. Dad would never remarry mom and I had to accept that.

So, with all that drama, my life was pretty much a melting pot of emotions. Mostly, anger and hurt. Anger at one dad, and hurt from another. I was one broken kid, one broken young adult, and one broken person and I felt like there was nothing that I could ever do about it.

So, I did what I knew I could and I buried it. I hid it all away deep inside myself, to the point where I almost forgot it existed. I kept a mask up of happiness, I told my story and people thought I was strong. People thought that I had made it through all the junk, and that I had fixed my hurt and my pain. But I hadn't, and up until a few days ago, I still hadn't.

Rewind a little bit here, about 3 years ago we got a new youth pastor, Al, at my church. But before that I met a girl named Grace Manning. We met through school and ended up becoming best friends. We were both strong Christians who wanted a girl friend that wasn't girly. So we clicked really fast. She was the girl I wanted to have as a close friend, because I generally don't get along well with girls. She was there through some hard stuff, and eventually I invited her to my church where she is now a member. We met our youth pastor around the same time and began to build a strong relationship with him. He was like the dad I always wanted. He was a Christian like Mark and he was fun like my dad. He had it all, but the thing is, he didn't want us to see him as a dad. He worked with Mark and I and we got to a place where there was little to no fighting and we could have nice conversations together. And he helped me break down the walls of my heart from the hurt of everything that happened with my dad. He was there when they weren't.

I guess I thought that after all those years of talking to Al and coming to terms with the pain that I had tucked away, that the pain was gone. Not so.
I had yet to face the monster that I was hiding. Deep inside of me the pain had turned into an infection that had unknowingly affected my entire life. It was there just waiting to come out and mess up relationships and friendships. But God has been working on me. He has helped me grow close to Him, helped me tear this giant down and come to terms with my past.

Last Monday, at a small group with three of my very best friends, Adam, Grace, and Tommy I let those walls down. Sure, I have told my story, but I always left emotion out of the picture. They didn't need to see what it had really done to me did they? I thought they didn't, but God had a different idea in mind.

I was talking about my dad and how I had PRAYED for 13 YEARS for him to come to Christ and it seemed like no matter what I did, it never worked. I prayed everyday for 13 years. 13. That's a long time. A long time to question God. A time to wonder if He even LISTENED TO A WORD I SAID. Obviously, my prayer didn't matter enough...I poured myself into praying and then I stopped. I would pray, but it was automatic, cold, and unexpecting. God hasn't done anything yet, why would that change now?

My dad went into rehab a few months back, just for alcoholism. Ended up getting a job as a manager at a Taco Bell. I thought he'd done it. I was so proud. But no. He fell back into it. Then he went to a different rehab. Teen challenge. Where you learn about God and there's no drinking or smoking. He went to church more days that I did every week. He got up at the crack of dawn to work and he worked hard. He didn't stay the full time that he was supposed to, but you know why? Not because he gave up, but because he didn't agree with what they were saying about God. He told me that he just wanted to worship God and that they were making it too complicated. They were misinterpreting what God said. He just wanted to love God. MY dad the one who I prayed for for years, just wanted to love God.... It absolutely took my breath away. God works. In his time. Not my time. Not your time. God only works on His time. He is not accountable to us. We cannot move His hand.

My small group talked about this, but even after all this great INCREDIBLE news, there was still hurt. A whole lot of hurt that I could not, and cannot bear alone. Deep inside there was still this little girl that just wanted to ask her daddy, "Why can't you stop...for me? Am I not important enough to you? Not even me?" I felt like if he really, really cared...he could stop. But it wasn't that simple. Addictions are hard to break, and I believe that he did it not only for us, his daughters, but for God. And he could have never come to that if I didn't wait for 13 years.

God does every single thing for a reason. It might seem painful in the process and maybe even afterwards. Trust me, I know. But God works. He knows what He's doing as crazy as that sounds :)

If I hadn't stuck with God through all of this, I would be a helpless pile of emotions ready let go of life. But God has continually been there for me. Been there to bring people into my life like my mom, my sister, Grace, Al, Adam, and so many more to keep me strong. To love me, as Christ loves me. Without them and without God I wouldn't be who I am today. I wouldn't be the girl that want's to help other girls going through this exact same thing. I would be a bitter girl ready to yell at the world, and I'd be the girl that nobody would want to be. God moves. He does things that we don't understand. But that's the beauty of it.

He puts us through the fire so that we can be refined to reflect Him. I'm far from being there, but God is moving in my life. He's moving so much and I cannot wait for the rest of my life. God is so good. And I love Him more than anything else.

If you have stuck around for all of this, I commend you :) I don't know if I could have. This is far from my life story.. I don't really know why I thought I would be able to put my whole life into a blog, but hey! it's worth a shot. This is just something God has laid on my heart to share. I am broken. We are all broken, and only through God can we be made new.