Jennifer's Blog
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On February 10th, I had the privilege of hearing
my friends Karen Peck and New River minister at Taylor Church in Sanderson,
Florida. While the lyrics of the songs
were a blessing and the music seeped deep within the innermost parts of my
soul, there was one thing that stood out like a skyscraper in the midst of a
sea of single story homes. During the
altar service, Karen spoke specifically of people who may feel bogged down with
the worries and the cares of life. She
said that the service may be providing an escape from all of that worry. As I stood there, I realized that this was
likely true for the majority of people in the room. And I knew that it was especially meant for
me. All week, I had been carrying a ton
of bricks on my shoulders and just as I thought I would crack under the
pressure, God reminded me once more that He always knows what I need. And sometimes, I just need an escape.
Living by faith in Jesus above,
Trusting, confiding in His great love;
From all harm safe in His sheltering arm,
I’m living by faith and feel no alarm.
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I’d
like to invite you to think back to the day when you last purchased something
new. Perhaps it was a new car, a new
pair of shoes, or even a new bag of potato chips. Do you remember that “new car smell?” Or the way your new shoes were so clean and
bright? And it’s always more fun to pull
out the first whole potato chip, as opposed to reaching down in the bag for the
last few crumbs!
Likewise, there are times when we keep driving the same car, even though it’s broken down five times in the last week. God may have even sent the money for the down payment on a new car, but we keep putting it off until next week. And those new shoes in the closet never get worn because they’re not “broken in” yet. So, we continue wearing our ragged pair instead. Then we can hardly finish our work day because of the pain in our feet from the worn out soles that offer no support.
Think back to the last time you were at the airport. When you arrived, I’m sure you were lugging all of your baggage with you until you finally made it to the check-in counter. Then, you left it with the airline agent and proceeded toward security with only your carry on bags in hand. Wasn’t it a relief to be rid of the baggage that weighed you down? If you’re like me, you probably felt free, or even light as a feather. Why? All because you gave your luggage to someone else and left it with them.
When
I was a little girl, rarely a day went by that I did not go next door to visit
my grandparents. One day I would help
them pick up pecans under the tallest tree in their yard, a tree that towered
over me like an enormous giant with an infinite number of sprawling arms. Sometimes, I would wheel my little red wagon
down to their house, either full of baby dolls or carrying my cat Morris or my
pet rabbit Speckles. Another day, we
would be inside, making Grandma Ethel’s famous chocolate pound cake (which I
still make in her memory to this very day) or Papa Joe’s mouthwatering homemade
ice cream. I always loved this activity because
they always let me lick the paddle when the ice cream was ready to eat!
But
it wasn’t these fond childhood memories that make the top of the list. And it wasn’t the cherished moments I spent
with my Grandma, listening intently as she taught me to play the autoharp. It wasn’t even the trips to town in Papa
Joe’s blue and white Ford pick-up truck, where we would ride with the windows
rolled down, singing at the top of our lungs, “In the Good ‘Ole
Summertime.” What makes the visits to
Papa and Grandma’s house special in my storehouse of memories are the many ways
they showed their love for me and love for God.
One
thing I distinctly remember is the way they always made sure we said grace
whenever I was sharing a meal with them.
We would hold hands, bow our heads in reverence to the Almighty, and
then pray together. They, along with my
parents, taught me at a young age the importance of being sincerely grateful
for my food and asking God to bless it.
While I now say a prayer in my own words, I will always remember those
timeless words that my Grandma, Papa, and I would say in unison:
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.
Bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we've first begun.
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Two years ago, I felt like I was trying to do everything for everyone and all the while, doing it all alone. I continually strived to get everything done, but never asked anyone for help. I thought I was more than capable of completing the daily tasks on my own, but I was completely wrong. It became so much of a burden that I began to get very stressed out. The loss of my Mom had caused my patience to gradually fade away. Because of this, every little thing got under my skin, so to speak. While I was doing a balancing act, figuratively spinning an incredible number of plates in the air, I found myself seeking new tasks, or plates to add to my collection. I literally volunteered for everything, seeking to fill the void in my life. I felt if I got busy enough, it would relieve me of some of the sorrow. If I took on enough responsibilities, life would be busier, but less complicated. If I filled my schedule full enough, I wouldn’t have time to think about the virtual cloud hanging over my head.
Sadly, I was entirely wrong. The more responsibilities I took on, the more stressed out I became. The more stressed out I became, the less sleep I was able to get. The less sleep I was able to get, the thinner my patience became. The thinner my patience became, well, I ended up being somewhat like a pressure cooker about to explode. At least, that’s the analogy a friend of mine gave me when I confided in her about my attempts to fill the void in my life. I couldn’t understand why God would take my Mama away. I tried and tried, but I could not wrap my head around the reason for such a tragic event in my life. What was I to do? How could I get through each day if there was any down time whatsoever? Downtime meant time to think, and time to think meant time to think about the void in my life.

Instead of thinking about the things that were wrong, I have since realized that I should have been thinking about the things that were right. Instead of worrying about the things that were not going according to my plans, I could have been delighting in God’s plan for my life. In life, we often do not see the big picture, but God sees our entire lifespan. He knows all of our comings and goings, even before we have come or gone. He truly does know what is best. He wants us to live a life of joy. He wants us to think positive thoughts, full of truth, nobility, rightness, purity, loveliness, admiralty, excellence, and praiseworthiness. Doesn’t that sound better than thinking thoughts of negativity, falseness, and impurity, just to name a few? Surely, we want to think on positive things. Still, there are times when the worries and cares of this life outweigh the positive aspects of life. In these times of distress, we need to call on the One who created us, the One who created our ability to think. God can give you a mind-set of joy for your journey and peace that passes all understanding.
Along my journey, I still have moments when I momentarily fall into the trap of negative thinking. I wish I could tell you I had found the method to avoid such thinking altogether. What I have found is that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Although things in my life may change, whether it is friends moving away or loved ones passing away, I know that He will never change. And I will never be alone. He is always with me. It doesn’t matter if I am sitting in silence in my bed at night, or if I am at work with a list of a million tasks to be completed. He is with me. It doesn’t even matter if I am at my wit’s end, building up steam like a pressure cooker. He is with me. He overlooks my shortcomings, my outbursts, and my attempts to do this thing called “life” on my own. Why? Because Jesus loves me unconditionally, even my imperfections.

In Christ’s Love,
Jennifer