July 9: Don't Be a Wimp--The Road Called PAIN Will Lead to Jesus



I got in a fight with a jar of kalamata olives today. It fell off a shelf and I caught it with my face.


Olives = 1
Jacqui = 0


I'm not hoping for a rematch anytime soon, but it makes me wonder if I'm destined to leave this life with both of my front teeth intact. They've had many close calls over the years, through no direct fault of my own--they've been cracked off, glued on, cracked off again, replaced, cracked, crowned, root canaled… I have what they call PTDED: Post Traumatic Dental Experiences Disorder.


It also could be that I'm a wimp. That's a very real possibility. You see, I don't like to be uncomfortable in the least, and I certainly don't like pain. I hate being cold and not having a sweater. I hate having to sit out in the sun and be too hot. As a child, I literally kicked and screamed when doctor's visits required shots or wart removal. Ya, I was a warty kid. It went with the braces and rainbow glasses and overall awkwardness quite nicely. I cringe at the thought of novocaine, and I absolutely, positively, without a doubt got an epidural during childbirth.


And the wimpy pain stuff may just be me, but as a culture I think we've definitely bought into the idea that pain, in all forms, is bad. We are a generation who "deserves" to be happy, and we spend our lives pursuing that goal. We get rid of spouses who no longer meet that desire and replace them with a new one who does, for a time. We overeat, overspend, and overindulge in order to make ourselves feel better. We numb out, check out, and entertain ourselves to death to avoid the emptiness and pain. We work insane hours at jobs we don't like to buy stuff we don't need to keep up with everyone else who's doing the same thing because they must be happy, right?


And heaven forbid that our children aren't happy… So we give them all trophies and stuff them with sugar and pat them on the head and tell them that they're wonderful at everything and will grow up to be the President of the United States. We hover over them at school and on the playground so that they can be happy and safe and never get hurt by anyone, or worse, never fail at something and have to learn from their mistakes.


So we get sucked into this vacuum of this comfortable American life, this American Dream, that exalts happiness above all else, but what we're left with is entitlement, ungratefulness, and an insatiable desire for more stuff to fill the void. Again.



And I'm as guilty as the next wimp, er, guy.



Without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him. Hebrews 11:6



I remember the day that verse cut me straight to the heart. The day that I looked at my life and saw only comfort and safety in the place where faith and risk used to thrive. The day that I realized that I hadn't had true faith in a long time, because I couldn't remember the last time that I took a risk. A real risk, one where I couldn't reasonably calculate what the outcome would be. I couldn't remember the last time I stepped out beyond myself, off the ledge, into the space where God lives and let Him work in a way that He only could when I was in that place without the ground beneath my feet. With nothing left to catch me but Him. In a place where if He didn't catch me, I'd be in big trouble. That place is called FAITH. And I hadn't been there in a while.


Faith cried, GET OUT OF YOUR DADGUM COMFORT ZONE AND TAKE A REAL RISK FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE!


At least that's what it said to me. And I gotta be honest, it sounded a little like Tow Mater. We are Americans, after all…


But seriously. Maybe that's where you are today, too. It's so easy to get there. The world tells us to be comfortable and happy. To plan, to play it safe. To avoid pain at all costs. And those things in and of themselves aren't bad, but they are when they replace faith. God's thoughts are higher then ours, and they don't always make sense to us. He might ask us to take risks that defy logic and seem backwards, but when we obey in faith, He will show up because He is good and faithful. He will catch us. And we will experience the Living God. 
The LIVING GOD.
"Don't dry their tears too quickly, for they need the pain to run to Jesus."


God wants to work in our pain and discomfort, but we need to let Him. And that's hard to do because that means we need to feel it and experience it and work through it and walk along the road called Pain until we get to Jesus. If we keep walking, we will get there. And He will use our pain to do great and mighty things for His glory. Not a tear will be wasted. It's a promise.



The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18



You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book. Psalm 56:8


For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. Jeremiah 29:11-13






Disclaimer: The rant-like nature of this post is probably due to the fact that I'm running on very little sleep because of a cute toddler who shall not be named. I have no plausible excuse for the randomness.



July 5: A Poem: Dancing Embrace

If you were at WalMart tonight and heard what sounded like a group of dying pigs, it was my children playing incessantly with the dog toys. That was actually slightly better then being stuck in the car with them in their post-holiday state of over-tiredness during the Home Depot run. 


The morning after fireworks and festivities comes just as early as any other ordinary morning. In fact, it seems to come even earlier. The children burst into our bedroom in the wee hours of the morning with loud voices, completely oblivious to the fact that we had been sleeping peacefully. The door begins revolving as they come and go, asking about cookies and TV, staying to snuggle a bit and springing back up to run out again. Some days I have every last one of them piled up in the bed with me after Ben has left for work, but I really enjoy mornings like this. Mornings where I can snuggle with the littles as long as they stay, and when the middle of the bed is vacant again, I can slide back across the empty space and snuggle with my husband once more.


Back in college I took a Marriage & Family class, and I vividly remember a chart that displayed statistics on the level of marital satisfaction throughout the duration of a marriage. As you can imagine, there's normally a high level of satisfaction at the beginning of the marriage, but then satisfaction takes a sharp dip during the child-rearing years and slowly proceeds to climb out of that valley and increase as the children grow up and leave the home. Now, this is a generalization, of course, but I remember thinking...



Wow, I didn't realize how much stress children could put on a marriage relationship.



Those would be the naive thoughts of a non-parent.


Because, being in the valley of the child-rearing years as we speak, I can personally vouch for the stress-inducing characteristics of those sweet, wonderful, adorable children. And not only that, but there just isn't as much time for your spouse as there was before. He (or she) who screams the loudest usually gets the attention, and there are lots of small people screaming around here. All. The. Time.


So for whatever odd reason, I was lying in bed this morning thinking about all this wonderful statistical and nostalgic information, and I began to get a picture in my head. I thought about us snuggling over the years, and how there has been more and more children snuggling with us as the time goes by. I thought about how we still hold onto each other even though we have them sandwiched between. I thought of marriage like a dancing embrace, and it went like this.




Dancing Embrace
by Jacqui Roberts


A woman is wed and becomes a wife,
and the couple begins the dance of marriage for life.
That very night at the reception,
they dance and twirl throughout the procession.
The world behind them fades away,
as they only have eyes for each other this special day.
They dance together long and close, full of passion,
forming traditions, creating memories, a bond they fashion.
Their love for one another grows their family, full of joy,
they dance and twirl together, cradling their new little boy. 

But they get tired now like they didn't before;
sometimes caring for the baby is quite like a chore.
The small life requires so much just to live,
but they love that baby and sacrificially give.
Give of their very selves, their time and their breath,
their body and life and would unto death.
They continue to dance and twirl as a family,
adjusting the steps and the sails, toddling wambly.
Three becomes four, and then five and then six,
maybe even more someday will add to the mix. 

Huddled close, they continue to hold each other tight, 
to dance together, sometimes all through the night. 
Holding six together is more difficult then two,
the marriage must bend and stretch and form anew.
The twirling sometimes is choppy at best, 
and there are many days when they all need some rest. 
There are moments it feels like their fingers are slipping, 
trying to hold it all together and at straws they are gripping. 

But there's joy in the mess, laughter and celebration, 
it's not only our arms that are bigger but our heart's admiration. 
For these little lives that have stretched us and grown us, 
that have loved us unconditionally and blessed us and known us. 
Although they'll only snuggle between us for a time, 
our lives will be forever changed once they've left the conga line. 
Our embrace will be closer and sweeter once more, 
knowing what love and life has danced inside before. 




July 3: The Perfect Oatmeal


We've been eating oatmeal almost daily for breakfast this week, and I do my best to make it taste like an oatmeal cookie. Because, who wouldn't want to eat an oatmeal cookie everyday for breakfast??? 

The perfect oatmeal = butter + a little brown sugar + cinnamon + dash nutmeg + vanilla. 

And if you're looking to win some brownie points, add some chocolate chips. :) 



Disclaimer: You may end up with children who have chocolate smeared on their forehead, face, hands, & clothes. But they will love it.

You're welcome.


And P.S., we did more then this today, like watched movies & played outside & went to SAMs Club & Aldi, & drank some wine after a long day, but it's like it didn't happen if there's not a photo... I swear it did. Trust me.



June 28: Relay for Life



Cancer.


It's a dirty word. 


And it will remain just that, just an abstract concept or a disease, until it hits you close to home. A friend. A relative. A family member. 


You. 


Then cancer is no longer just a dirty word. It has a face. A name. It becomes personal. It breaks your heart. There are real people who struggle with this disease every day. Some will survive, many won't. 

It's funny how in our selfish human nature, terrible things--cancer, human trafficking, poverty, mental illness, abuse--are so incredibly easy to ignore until they break into our tiny bubble of a world and wreck everything we thought we knew. Until they have a face, and a name. But there is beauty and healing and comfort in the wreckage. There is restoration and hope. But we have to first acknowledge, feel and mourn the wreckage before we can experience any of that.


Relay for Life 2013. When Tosha was actively undergoing treatment for cancer, Clayton gave her his funny glasses so that "she would have more hair." Out of the mouth of babes...


And you know what that is? It's called love, and next to loving God, it's what we're on this earth to do. That's our calling, or mission. True love isn't like what you see in the movies. It's not always ooey gooey and warm and fuzzy. It's not what you want to do or what makes you happy. True love is completely opposite of selfishness. It puts others first, especially when it means sacrifice. True love runs toward when everything in you wants to run away.


Maybe it's not cancer. Maybe there's another burden that the Lord has placed on your heart. Maybe you've been ignoring the pull the meet someone you know in the depths of their pain and mess. And it's hard. It won't be easy. But there will be comfort and hope and healing and even joy on the other end, and you will never experience the true depth of those unless you first wade through the abyss of pain. 




What is the Lord calling you to run toward today?