Jamaica Adventures - Post #3

     So, I've made a couple of awesome friends here in Jamaica! The older boys, ages 8-12, live in Jake's house and they are absolutely wonderful. I forget how much I love getting to know boys that age, but they are so cool and sweet! A couple of them got to skype Adam with me after they asked to meet him. They have taught me how to speak Patios, how to play cricket, what a soursop fruit is, how to eat the jelly inside a coconut, how to catch the baby chicks and trap them so that their mother will come find them and then they can kill the grown chicken and use it for food. They've taught me how to climb onto the roof without having to use the laddar, how to climb the fences and what rocks to step on on the way down the steep descent. They have taught me that boys are similar no matter where you go. They make up girlfriends when they realize you are in a serious relationship, they need hugs and love, and they like being reminded that you care about them. They like having someone who will work on their homework with them and get them thinking. They like taking pictures with you and learning about the world. They like when I ask them for a hug, even though at first they acted embarrassed. Many times I don't have to ask anymore, because they just come and hug me. I often forget that boys this age still need love and affection. Many boys act so tough and are told that the "mushy" stuff is for girls. But when they know that you are safe, that you care, and you love them, it's crazy how much they will open up to you and reciprocate your love. 

     It's funny, it seems that wherever I go, I connect really well with the young girls  (1-6) and the older boys (7-13). The same is true here. I spend my mornings helping with the 1st grade boys and then I head to the main house to see my girls. We have 5 girls between the ages of 2-3 that stay at the Nest during the day. I swim with them every day at 10:30. They are so strong and brave and I can toss them into the water without fear that they will drown. I would never think of tossing any 2-3 year old in the States into the water. Period. These kids are fish though! And in the evenings when they are winding down with a movie, the second I step into the movie room, I am covered with little bodies all scrambling for a spot on my lap, or stomach, or shins, or pretty much any part of me that they can grab on to. 3 of them work on my hair pretty regularly, and I guarantee you that my head will be stronger after this trip because of it. 1 tries to eat my hair as often as she can. One calls me "Junna" with confidence. Every time. "Mith Jenna," says one, because she can't quite get her S's down. My heart is filled with so much love for these kids. They are wonderful and I have zero desire to leave them. They often ask me if I'm leaving, and though I can happily say that I will be here for another 6 weeks, I know that when those weeks end, it will be hard for both me and the children. I have to come back though, no matter what. All the pod moms and children want to see me back and they also want to meet Adam. So, there's that. We have to come back, and I'm sure we'll have a place to stay when we do. 

     God is good. His love endures forever. He is the Father to the fatherless. 

Jamaica Adventures - Post #2

     As I sit here this Sabbath morning, I am surrounded by the noises of waking children in the house above me, hammers and nails being used by wonderful teams to build a workbench for the older boys, and a lot of love. My first couple of days at the Nest were incredibly overwhelming. There were 40 volunteers, 27 children, about a dozen pod moms/staff, and 2 directors.Things have settled down a bit and the children have finally begun to understand that I am not leaving tomorrow, but will be here for several more weeks. 

     Living here with these children, pod moms, and volunteers has been incredible and wonderful. I love these children with my whole heart. I have been given Beautiful opportunities to bond with individual ones as well as to learn and grow in my understanding of how this awesome place is run. This week was a very interesting week. I have felt more at home and the children seem more drawn to me than ever before (which fills my heart up). A couple of days ago, I had the privilege of taking one of our boys to the doctor. He had a very high fever, and though we waited at the doctor's office for 3 hours, he was absolutely patient. He did end up horizontal, just resting his head on my lap midway through though! 

     The little girls and I have developed a type of secret language without meaning to. One of the girls clicks her tongue so we did that together and had a wonderful time. When she was pouting the other day, I clicked my tongue at her when she had her back turned from me and just received a, "No!" She knew I was talking to her ;) Others know when they hear my voice say, "Ay you!" that I am addressing them alone. There have also been on the spot made up songs created for those girls that are in a bad mood, and need to remember that they are nice and sweet girls, not rude girls. 

     If you can learn this Jamaican song, you can pretty much get in with any of the younger girls (hint: Y ou should probably have some semblance of a relationship before you sing it, might be weird otherwise): 

First, have a group of girls hold hands and put on in the middle (the one in the middle dances around)

"There's a brown girl in the ring. Tra-la-la-la-la. (x3)

She looks like a sugar in a plum. plumplum! (x2)

There's a brown girl in the ring. Tra-la-la-la-la (x3)

Show me emotion (girl in middle puts hands on hips and moves side to side)"

Yeah, it's hilarious! But it will get stuck in your head. All. Day. 

God has been faithful to me. He has revealed Himself greatly throughout my time here. I have grown in my desire for Him and in my understood need for His daily provision. It can be easy for me to get caught up in the busyness of a day and forget to be in God's presence first, but when I submit to His will and live in Him, I am finding that I am more the woman that He created me to be. He is the great provider. He will teach us how to remain in Him, if we ask Him to. He will teach us how to read His word, if we ask for guidance. He is faithful to His people. We must be willing to humble ourselves before Him and trust that He knows better. 

Prayer for the week: 

1. One of the teams is leaving today. Pray that the teams coming and going are able to be a blessing, but that the children can adjust to the steady flow of teams for this next month well. They seem to handle the people coming and going with grace, pray that that continues. 

2. Pray that the children will continue to see the staff, directors, interns, volunteers, and myself as people that are safe and trustworthy. For some of the children, this may be their home until adulthood. We want them to be happy here and see Robin's Nest as a place of refuge and a home for them that they can come back to. They have family here whether or not they are ever officially adopted by a forever family. 

3. God has sustained me and because I have been relying on Him, He has been faithful to me in return. Pray that I will continue to rest in Him and live in light of who He is. I do not want to become lazy in my work here. 

4. New interns are coming this week! One comes today, one on the 19th, and two in early February. We will all be living in this apartment together. Pray that we would be an encouragement to one another, that we would mesh well, and that God's work would be furthered through our partnership. 

God is good. His love endures forever. 

Jamaica Adventures - Post #1

I have been in Jamaica now for about 3 days. Ironically enough, though I have been studying about cross-cultural ministry, I did not expect much of a culture shock to take place. Jamaica has English as the main language and the natives also speak Patois, but I did not expect that would be much of a barrier. I was wrong to assume that culture shock would pass by me! Until today I had been very discouraged and felt incredibly isolated. Those of you who know me well understand that I can get along with nearly anyone and overcome the awkwardness that comes with meeting new people; however, I am also an introvert, so arriving on site and finding out that there were 40 volunteers already at the children's home was a difficult revelation. In case you don't know, having a ton of people around from your home culture makes integrating yourself into a new culture, whose rules you do not yet understand, exceedingly more difficult. There have been many times throughout the course of the past several days where I would have to force myself to leave the Americans and work on bonding with the Jamaican pod moms and children.

I have always thought of myself as good with children. In America, I know how to discipline a child in such a way as to show my love for them while also making sure they have consequences for their wrong actions. In Jamaica, I did not know the rules, the Patois that the children and pod moms speak so quickly to one another, the accent, or the names of the children or pod moms. In fact, I did not even know what was expected of me! I am quite a structured person. I like order. Schedules. Rules. In fact, I have been told that I oftentimes like rules too much! So, everything about this trip thus far has forced me out of that comfort zone. I have finally acclimated to the accent, so I can now understand what the children are saying to me when they are speaking in English. Because I have been intentional in forcing myself to get away from the easy to understand Americans, I have begun to develop good relationships with the pod moms and most of the children. I am not quite sure, but I think the children are testing me. Disobeying just to see if I will remain consistent in my rules. I think they are learning that their cute little faces cannot convince me to let them get away  with things that they are not supposed to do.

             God has been faithful. I was close to writing off cross-cultural mission work the first couple of days because the children were so disrespectful and rude and structure seemed nonexistent. But! The directors and pod moms have encouraged me greatly to be patient, flexible, and unselfish with my time. Their encouragement has helped me to keep my focus on God and remember that culture shock is something that most people experience when entering a different culture. I cannot convince myself that I do not like children from a couple of rough days with them, because I love children with my whole heart. There will be hard days where I question why I am here and if I am even being used for the Kingdom in my work, but I trust that God has opened this door in order that I might become more like Him and maybe I will be granted the privilege to minister to the heart of some while I am here. God is good and His love endures forever.  

             Ways you can be praying for me: 

- Pray that I would be brave. It is easy for me to not speak up and ask questions because I am worried about bothering someone or seeming needy. However, I do need the help of others and there is nothing wrong with that. Pray that I would seek to love the people here as fully as I can through understanding them more fully and pouring my time into them. 

- Pray that I would not allow myself to get too distracted by technology, and attempting to get my introvert time. I need to find a healthy balance of being with people, being alone, and being with God. Because of my rooming accomodations, it would be far to easy for me to isolate myself more than is necessary or healthy for the deepening of my relationship with God and the people. 

- Pray that I would be faithful to God's leading in my life. I need to practice patience, discipline, understanding, grace, and flexibility. These children are God's children and I need to love them as God does. Pray that they would soften towards me and see the love that I have for them. An intern that has been here for 2 months has struggled to get the children to respect her and stop with their rude behaviors. I pray that we can overcome this struggle. However, if God wants this to be a time for me to continue to love when there is little reciprocation, I pray that He would sustain me and help me to love them in spite of their behavior. 

What if life is all about dying?

What if our life is all about dying?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rztYMMhMT2Y

Before we go any further...I want you all to watch this video. If you can't, that's fine. But it's honestly only 6 and half minutes and it's worth your time. If you're gonna read this blog...just watch the video too.

What if our life is all about dying?

What if this life is not about what you can get?

What if this life is not about you at all?

Now, I'm not saying that our life is about dying in the sense that we should all want to die or be suicidal. Far from it. What I mean by dying here is a dying to self.

What if we weren't meant to live this life always striving after the next new thing that can bring us satisfaction?

What if *gasp* it was not about making a ton of money, keeping yourself and your family safe, and being able to always provide for yourself and have a cushy retirement?

What if?

What if this life was about dying to yourself and living for Christ?

I have lived the sort of life that I've described above for as long as I can remember.
I've been excited to:

Get a good education,
Make a decent amount of money,
Provide for my family one day so that they could have everything they ever needed,
Raise good kids who love God and His people,
Have a Godly marriage that teaches my spouse and I about Christ's unconditional love and that people admire,
Save up a retirement fund so that one day I can lock myself away on a private island with my husband and never have to be around people again.

Now, none of these things are inherently wrong. I'm not desiring an exorbitant amount of money...so I don't look greedy. I'm not planning on giving my family all of their wants...I just want to cover their needs. I do want to raise Godly children. I do want to have a Godly marriage that can be an example and an encouragement to others. That last one is a little selfish...but just a little bit ;)

But.

But what if this life isn't about me.
What if it isn't even about my family?

*Gulp*
What if God is not calling me to live a cushy, easy life where I can just shoot the breeze as my perfect family loves God and each other while using perfect manners, singing praise to our Father as they help all who are in need?

What if God is calling me...calling us...to get outside of ourselves and offer up our bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God?

What if God is calling us to care for the orphans and widows...what if that isn't just a passage in the Bible that we can bypass?

What if God is calling you to give up your life for the sake of others?

What if it isn't about you?

What if God isn't asking you to save up a fortune for your retirement so that you can live comfortably?

What if He is asking you to give it all away?

What if He is asking you to sacrifice? Your comforts. Your desires. Your plans. For the sake of His kingdom.

Does that scare you?

It sure scares me.

I can think of many a time when I have day dreamed about being married, having kids, raising those kids, and getting to have my husband all to myself again. That sounds just about perfect to me. A Beautiful marriage, with Beautiful children, in our Beautiful family, living our Beautiful life. Safe. Protected. Financially stable. Connected.

But...what if God is calling you, calling me, to a harsher area?

What if He is calling us to actually talk about Him?

What if He is waiting for us to sing, "Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders..." and actually mean it so He can use us for His kingdom?

What if?

Does that scare you?

It scares me.

But I want to sing those words.

I want to sing them and mean it.

I want God to truly take me where my trust is without borders.

God is faithful.

When we accepted Christ, He never promised that our lives would be cushy. In fact, He warned us that it would be difficult. That we'd have to take up our cross and follow Him.

If that means that Jenna's plans to have a perfect family with her perfect husband in a house with A/C (At least! Because I NEED A/C. I will be perpetually grumpy without A/C. I won't be able to be a good wife or mother without A/C) are altered because we have to go to dangerous territory to tell unreached people groups about Jesus. So be it.

If that means I get married and we run an orphanage for the rest of our lives so we are never "just the two of us" again. So be it.

If that means that I have to give up my idea of a perfect introvert paradise retirement in order to love God and His people. So be it.

If that means that I have to stay in the States doing work here, even though I desperately want to leave this country and do mission work elsewhere. So be it.

If that means that I have to live in a hut in some warm climate culture. So be it.

If that means that I have to live in some suburb in a nice house or apartment. So be it.

If that means that I have to work a "normal" job that seems so mundane and unrewarding instead of being a full time misssionary...So be it.

That hurts.

I WANT to live in some culture that is not my own. In an area where I am forced to slow down and love people more intentionally. In a place where it takes a village to raise a child. In an area set apart from others.

(Maybe I won't want that as much once I've had more experience with it, because I know culture shock is incredibly hard...but.)

At this point in my life, I don't WANT to stay here in America. I WANT to get on a plane with a plan with only 45 pounds of material possessions to my name and just immerse myself in a culture that is not my own. I WANT to give everything away and live that kind of life. I WANT to learn to like the food, the people, the culture. I WANT to introduce people to Jesus. I WANT to learn a language from scratch and live with a native from the country that I enter. I WANT to be a missionary. My heart aches for that.

But my life is not my own. It is not about me. And if I tell God that I am giving Him my life, like I have, then I GET to follow Him wherever He would lead.

I can't tell God, "Here are my plans, I lay them at your feet, take me where my trust is without borders...as long as I don't have to stay in the States...or at the very least as long as I don't have to go to a bigger city than Kansas City....namely NEW YORK CITY!"

I can tell God, "Here are my plans, I lay them at your feet, take me where my trust is without borders." Period.

Our lives are not about living in such a way as to take care of number one.

Our lives are meant to love God and to love the people that He created...all of His children, even if they are "scary" or don't live life the way we do.

What if my life is all about dying?

1 John 4:18

Fear.

We all have it. For some of us, it is really obvious. We can see it. Everyone can see it. For some of us, we have learned how to deal with it in a healthy way without being stunted by its paralyzing effects. But for some of us, it has been so deeply rooted in us for so long that we have come to believe that it is not there.

Throughout my college career, I have been actively working to grow into the image of Christ. It is the struggle. I deeply desire to be perfect. I can't. That bothers me. It bothers me significantly less now than it did as a freshman, but it is still a battle.

Christ is perfect. I am not. Period. I never can be on my own. I never can be in this life. But somehow God still loves me. Accepts me. WANTS me. It's not just that God loves me, because lets be honest, he kinda has to love His children, right? But on top of His unconditional love for me...He EVEN LIKES ME!

He wants to be close to me.
He wants to have an intimate relationship with me.
He wants to hear about my life, hear my rants, and my joys.
He wants to hold me when I cry.
But He also wants to sweep me off my feet in my moments of joy and delight as well.
He wants to be wanted.

Isn't that weird? God wants to be wanted...just like you and I want to be wanted.

You do want to be wanted, don't you?

Let's be honest. No one wants to be alone. No one wants to be lonely. I don't just mean without a significant other to cuddle with. I mean any relationship.

Yesterday in Church History 1, Tom Lawson mentioned how important and impactful the relationship between friends is.

Scripture says in John 15:13, "Greater love has no man than this: to lay down one's life for his friend."

It doesn't say that the greatest love comes from laying down ones life for his significant other or his family. But it says his friend.

Does that surprise you?

I know it surprised me to think of how important friendships are reported to be in the Scriptures.

This is not to discount dating or marriage relationships by any means. Long before Adam and I were interested in marrying one another, we were best friends. I would then and I would now lay down my life for that man.

But it still surprised me to come to the realization that friendship is so vital.

God has been working on my heart for the past 4 years (well, He's always been working on my heart...let's be honest). He has been unveiling a lot of past hurts, a lot of ugly habits, and a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms. It sucks. Let me just tell you!

It doesn't feel good to have God reveal to you something unhealthy and harmful about yourself that you didn't realize was there. But God only reveals these things to you as you are able to handle them. This is not to take the verse about temptation out of context. God may give you more than you can bear on many accounts, we need Him and His people to thrive in this life. However, as God reveals our brokenness to us, He does it in doses.

He usually doesn't say, "Jenna...you need to grow and become more like me...so, right here in this moment, I'm going to tell you every way that you reflect the world and not me. You are reactive. You are often Pharisaical in your beliefs. You are a control freak. And don't let me forget about your problem with running away from scary and hard situations!....What else..."

No, God knows that if we knew the fullness of our brokenness all at once, we would be crushed. Discouraged. Disappointed. Deflated.

We serve a good God. A gentle God. A God who tells us that, "There is not fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love."

But you know what an even better translation of that first part is? At least in my humble opinion.

Marcy Low Greek Translation Ed. (MLGT) - It's legit..trust me.

1 John 4:18:
"There is not fear in love, but perfect love THROWS OUT FEAR (or THROWS FEAR OUTSIDE).

I love that. Perfect love throws fear out! It chucks it right out the front door, or in my case out the 3rd floor window!

So, why is fear so hard?

There's this phrase going around, "Words are hard."
Yeah, words are hard. But you know what's harder? Fear.
Fear is hard.

It's hard to uproot. It's hard to manage. It's hard to find the healthy balance. And sometimes, it's hard to locate in our lives. But it needs to be found, dealt with healthily, and uprooted...because perfect love throws fear outside.

We cannot have healthy families, healthy friendships, healthy dating relationships, or healthy marriages if we are living in that state of fear. And if we are living there, we are not experiencing the fullness of Christ's love. God is love. There is no fear in love.

I cannot tell you how many times I have made decisions out of a place of fear.

Fear of punishment.
Fear of being abandoned.
Fear of commitment.
Fear of intimacy.
Fear of loss of control.
Fear of being vulnerable.
Fear of being taken advantage of.
Fear of being fully known.
Fear of the unknown. The "what if."
Fear of hurting someone that I care about.
Fear of being hurt.
Fear of loss of relationships.
Fear of being unworthy...unwanted.

Some of those fear got their poisonous tentacles so deeply wrapped around my heart and mind that I didn't even realize they were there. I didn't know I needed to work through them. I didn't know that they were destroying good and healthy relationships...sabotaging them. I didn't realize how hard I was pushing people away. I didn't realize how lies could get stuck in my head and then after much rumination could begin to feel like "truths" to me.

I'm ready to try and never become that way again. Who I am hates who I've been.

Christ is the great Redeemer and He can somehow heal any brokenness that is in any of us. That absolutely blows my mind because I KNOW myself. I know that without Christ I am no good. On my own...I would be wicked. Christ has made me new and I don't have to live in the old life anymore.

And you know what's really crazy? God has brought people into my life who reflect this undying, unconditional love. It's really not fair. I don't deserve it, but man oh man am I grateful for it.

I don't know how I got so lucky as to get the most incredible man of God who loves me deeply and directs me toward Christ as both my best friend and my boyfriend...and who has remained faithful to me in spite of me. His unconditional love has shown me more of who Jesus truly is than any other person I have ever encountered.

I don't know how I got so lucky as to get the literal best roommate, sister, and best friend when I came to Ozark who has seen me at all stages of life and loved me anyways (even when she held my hair back as I threw up).

I don't know how I got so lucky to be blessed by a mother who loves me unconditionally, even when I snap at her (even though it's not her fault) after a particularly exhausting day.

I don't know how I got so lucky to have been blessed by the most Beautiful sister (capital B Beautiful, not just physically beautiful) who has held me while I held her as we bawled our eyes out all those times over the years.

I don't know how I got so lucky as to have a second family in the Lang's, to be shown unconditional love, support, and protection from that incredible family.

I don't know how I got so lucky to have the best neighbors who have been continual reminders of God's love and compassion as a best friends.

I don't know how I got so lucky as to have gotten a best friend in a girl who sat on my bed and said, "Yeah!" when I asked if we could be intentional friends with each other.

I don't know how I got so lucky as to have a wonderful family that has held me up through the most trying times and the most joy-filled times.

I don't know how I got so lucky as to have been blessed by a brother who refuses to reject me, even when I have run away from him so many times.

I don't know how I got so lucky as to have so many healthy, beautiful, and edifying relationships with men and women, students and professors here on Ozark's campus.

I could go on and on all day about how blessed I am. I have an incredible floor that I adore with my whole heart. I have wonderful friends in Jackson, Tennessee that I only see a few times a year, but still hold a special place in my life. I have great mentors, employers, coworkers, and acquaintances.

But the most important thing to remember is that God is good, even when there is nothing good in me. He is love and in His perfect love, there is no fear.

We don't have to live in fear.

This song pretty well captures the direction of this blog post:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSbVZKs8B_8

Fathers be good to your Daughters

So, I know I've been on this whole "Dad" thing for a while, but bear with me because this post is different. I come from a family that is pretty awesome. It wasn't always easy, mind you. There have been some really tough patches, but overall I feel incredibly blessed. If you know me well at all, you know how deeply attached I am to my Mom and my little sister. I've always done the best I can to love and protect them. But something that took me a lot longer to realize was that I was blessed beyond measure. You see, I got two Dads. No, not because I have a gay parent...but because my biological parents got a divorce when I was very young. Now, most people see step-parents as the bad guys. There's the wicked step-mothers from Cinderella, Snow White, Ella Enchanted, The Parent Trap, and there are horror movies about step fathers like...well, The Stepfather. These movies teach our children that step-parents are awful creatures and not worthy of their love. 

Our culture has come to believe these things. 

I did too.

Here's the deal. I count myself lucky to have my "step" dad. 

When I was certain that my biological parents would (and should) get back
     together, and was sure that he would ruin that, he loved me. 

When I was a little girl, who was angsty, protective, and stubborn, he loved
     me. 

When I went out of my way to show him that he was not my "real dad," he loved
     me. 

When I tried to take his role as the protector of our family, he loved me. 

When I pitted my parents against each other, he loved me. 

When I was angry, bitter, and venomous, he loved me. 

When I yelled, cussed, and threw a tantrum, he loved me.

When I complained about him to my friends, he loved me. 

When I made him feel like an outcast in our family, he loved me. 

When I got in a screaming match with him, he loved me. 

When I shut him down time and again, he loved me. 

When I made it clear that I didn't want to try in our relationship, he loved me. 

When my own biological Dad flaked over and over again, he loved me (and
     showed it by always being there). 

When I got older and started wanting a good relationship with him, he loved
     me. 

When we stopped fighting and he started asking me for hugs, he loved me. 

When I wasn't sure what to do with that response, he loved me. 

When I asked him if I could talk to just him, without interruption, he loved
    me. 

When I was so angry at everyone in the world, and for the first time ever
     he was the ONLY person I wasn't mad at, he loved me.

When I bawled my eyes out in the doorway of his office, he loved me. 

When I told him that I didn't know how to cry anymore, that I didn't know
     how to mourn, that I didn't know how to stop being angry at everyone
     for no reason, he loved me. 

When he told me, "You're doing it right now," he loved me.

When he let me sit and unload my burdens, he loved me. 

When he told me that it's okay to grieve differently, he loved me. 

When we had this thing in common, our biological Dad's dying, he loved me. 

When I knew that I could come to him, he loved me. 

When he took me as if I was his own daughter from day one, he loved me. 

He didn't have to.

He was marrying my Mom...not her two daughters.

He loved me.

What kind of love is that? He chose to love me like his own daughter. His own, biological daughter. Sure, we had our fair share of fights. You will never catch me denying that fact. However, I don't know what I would have ever done without him. Mark is the reason that I didn't give up on "dads" altogether. He taught me through his commitment to me, that love stretches beyond who is "biologically" related to you. He taught me that running away is not the answer. He taught me that love is worth fighting for. And he taught me to fight hard for what I believe in. He taught me that I have to be my own person, I can't float on my parents coattails through life. He taught me that I need to follow Jesus, set my own boundaries, and stick to them. He taught me that it's okay to be broken, it's okay to come and ask for help in putting the pieces of your shattered heart back together. He taught me that sometimes...you just have to admit that you can't do it alone and allow other people in. The greatest gift that the death of my biological dad brought me, was a closer connection to my real dad, Mark. When no one that I loved really understood what I was going through, he held me through the storm. He reminded me that the pain won't just go away over time, it will linger. It will fade, but you will always miss that person. He told me that it's okay to cry when I need to cry. 

He reminded me that I don't have to be strong for everyone. 

That I can't be strong for everyone. 

That I shouldn't be strong for everyone.

It's okay to let other people be strong for me, for once. It's okay to be vulnerable. It's okay to let people in. It was hard to see when I was looking through the lens of a selfish little girl, but my real Dad has been Mark all along. Don't get me wrong, I love my biological Dad and I am so glad that I was close to him. But Mark has been the one that showed me what dads do. Dads love their daughters. They make them follow really strict rules even if it's annoying a lot of the time ;) They teach them to be independent, but always remind them that they have a place that they can come back to and be loved. 

I am the worlds most blessed woman because 
I have a beautiful family that loves me imperfectly. 

I have a Dad who knows what it means to love his daughters.

The Eulogy I gave for my Dad at his funeral

For my Dad

     So, I've really struggled to get around to writing out what I was going to say this week. I don’t know about you, but I've found myself getting really tired. It’s not because I haven’t been getting sleep, it’s not because I’m running around like crazy, it’s a deeper kind of tired…kind of like a tiredness of my soul. That may sound kind of weird, but I know some of you are feeling the way that I am. Dad fought this battle for a long time…it seemed like an eternity to me…and honestly, there were points where I was begging God to just take him so that his suffering could be over. But God knew better. God gave me time. I know I won’t be speaking for everyone in the room when I say this…but I had a lot of things that I needed to deal with before I could let my Dad go. There were conversations that I needed to have, questions that I needed answered, and time to pre-grieve his death. For those of you who don’t know what that is, pre-grieving is pretty self explanatory, but every summer I start the process of grieving like 3 weeks in advance, knowing I’m going to miss my family…and Adam.


     I remember a friend of mine died last year…and I felt incredibly guilty about his death because I knew that I hadn't done all I could to tell him about Jesus. After that happened, Dad got really sick…and I knew that I couldn't live with myself if I didn't speak up and have those hard conversations with him. God gave me that time. I remember driving to KU where he was staying and asking God to give me the words to say to him. I was begging him to give me words…to speak through me…because to be real honest, I’m not the best public speaker the worlds ever seen and it really makes me kind of nervous most days. As I sat on his bed, I asked him questions… “How are you feeling about God right now?” You see, Dad got clean…he got a job…he started going to college, crazy as that is and we’d talk about how we were both in college learning stuff and working on the same type of degree…and right as he was working on getting his life together, that’s when he got sick…that’s hard on anyone’s faith. He answered that he was angry…and I told him that I was too. You see, people always worry that you can’t express anger towards God…but honestly, sometimes he’s the only one who can handle my anger and I don’t want to take it out on someone else! It’s like the times when I've been upset with Mom, yet she’s the only one I wanted to talk things through with, so I just had to get over my anger and vent a bit before I could get back on my feet.


     We had that conversation. I reminded him that God loves him even though his past was taking its toll on his body. He knew, at least in his head, that God loved him…even though many times he didn't feel worthy. The crazy thing about God is that none of us are worthy…we are all given grace if we receive Christ and live our lives for Him…but that’s a decision that we have to make and no one can make it for us. I have to be real honest and say that when I found out that my Dad had died, the first thought that came into my head was wondering where he was going to spend the rest of eternity. I didn't want to stand before you all today and give you some sappy speech about how “he’s in a better place now,” if he wasn't. I wrestled with that for a long time. I talked to Adam…and Marcy…Mom…and Fallon…and more than anything, I talked to God. I kept telling God that if I just knew that he was in heaven…I would be at peace.


     People said that of course he’s in a better place and at first I thought they were just saying all of that to comfort me. But I want to stand before you today and say that I am confident that he is with Jesus. When I found out about my Dad, I was with so many people that I love, my two best friends (outside of Fally, of course), two more good friends, and my roommates’ dad. We were out in the middle of nowhere with no cell reception…so when I got back into range on Sunday, September 29th, I was letting people know so that they could spread the news. I talked to one of my girlfriends from my church small group to let her know. When I told her, she asked if I’d read her Facebook message to me…this is what she wrote, “Hey girl, when I took my prayer time today I just randomly felt that God wants you to know your dad is going to be OK. God sees you.” That was really weird timing. You might be skeptical, like I kinda was, but the date on this message was September 27…before I told her anything two days later. When I heard this from her…I about burst into tears and had to have Adam take my phone and put it into his pocket so I didn't start bawling at the restaurant.


     To be honest, I still had my doubts after hearing from her and having so much confirmation from God. Then I talked to my Mom…she said on Sunday, when she went to church, she cried and was talking to God and said that if she only knew where he was…she would be able to have peace…and right after church…she came here with Fallon…and was talking to Grandpa Scott. He told Fallon (without mom even bringing it up) that he and Grandma Connie had been upfront with Daddy…and asked him if he believed in Jesus…he said yes. I am holding onto that, and trusting that what was done on earth was received in his heart. And because of what I know through Christ…this is a day of celebration! You know Dad…he wouldn't like everyone just mourning our loss of him, but celebrating the good in his life! He grew so much! He gave his life over to the only one who could make him whole. He got clean. He pursued a degree. He started living. This life…when it ends…we always think that it’s THE end. But this life is only the very beginning. The 20, 39, or 100 years we get…it’s only a glimpse of our lives. Dad is living a life so beyond compare that he isn't even thinking of mourning. He’s having the best (and cleanest!) party that he’s ever had! He would want everyone here to know the love of Christ that he’s experiencing now. God is good. Even through the hard times in life.


     There will be days that are really hard. You might experience anger…at him or someone else or no one. That’s okay. You might go through periods where you cry all the time and you’re not sure why. That’s okay. You might just go on living and feel guilty for being at peace or for even being happy. That’s okay. Don’t judge your own grieving process (some good friends told me that). We will all handle things differently and in our own time. Give yourself permission to grieve…give yourself permission to scream for “no reason”…give yourself permission to feel and to be angry and to hurt…that’s good. Give yourself permission to punch your pillow…or vent to someone…or just completely fall apart for a time. It’s okay to be out of control sometimes. And I hesitate to say this, but I've been quiet about it for far too long…I want you to all know…that you can and will feel all of these things…and the one who can truly bring you peace is God. I never want to come off as that Bible thumping girl in the family…but I also don’t want to look back and regret never speaking up and sharing the truth with the people that I love most. Daddy accepted God before he died, so I can stand before you today and rejoice…I want to be able to do that with everyone. God is good.