The Garden

It's only been in the past year or so that I have become a plant person. For all of my adult life, I have never cared for living plants. Rather, I focused more on my children, my husband, and the comings and goings of our chaotic life. I would often say "I don't grow plants, I grow children." I also had a habit of killing anything remotely beautiful that my hubby would bring home for me within a span of 24-48 hours. 

Two years ago, we finished building our beautiful home and moved in. Suddenly we were stationary. No more moving every few years. We were homeowners! No more renting someone else's home. A shift occurred..... I bought a nice hardy succulent and it was still living a week later, a month later, a YEAR LATER! Since then I've added multiple plants and they are all still ALIVE! I like to talk to my plants, stroke their leaves, water them tenderly and smile at them. I think now that my children are getting older, I have more room in my heart and hands to nurture something else and watch it grow. 

My patio is one of my favorite places to sit. I have several plants out there, some flowering, others not. I have a hummingbird feeder that is the life of the neighborhood, I mean hummingbirds wait in line to get something to drink! The other day I was sitting out there early, before the sun came up, just being quiet and present with Jesus before my day got busy and loud. As I felt the wind and watched it rustle the leaves of the various plants on my patio, I smelled some of their scents and just admired their beauty. This caused me to worship God as I beheld His glory through His creation. As I sat there, I saw a picture in my mind and I felt the Lord speak quietly in that moment and I want to share it with you. 

I imagined God sitting on a patio, surrounded by various plants. He looks around at them, with love in his eyes and just enjoys them. Some are more colorful than others. Some have flowers that need to be pruned back often and need watering daily, while others have no bright flowers and only need to be watered once in a while. God loves smelling all the different scents and gazing at the beauty that each plant brings to his patio. God just wants to sit and enjoy us at times! He looks around at us decides "Oh that one needs a little extra water today. Now this one over here is doing great, it's hearty, I don't need to water it right now. I need to prune back this one, so it can produce more flowers." I felt like He was showing me how unique we all are and what a glorious arrangement we are to Him. How boring his garden would look if we all looked the same and smelled the same.!

May we rejoice in our differences and uniqueness, as well as our individual spiritual walks with Christ. For each of us bring joy to the Father and He, in His loving and tender way, knows exactly what kind of care we need to best bring Him glory. 

Triggers

Today I was triggered. I have a tendency to numb out when triggered, usually by cleaning my house with a vengeance, rather than taking time to pause, reflect and process the trigger and the emotions attached to it. 

Only recently have I learned that while I can forgive someone for an offense/betrayal once, I will be impacted by that offense at unforeseen moments for who knows how long, and I must stop with each impact, acknowledge the ripple effect of the first offense and forgive the current impact in the present. 

Forgiveness has always been a one and done for me. As a Christian, I have believed all my life that forgiveness is a command, and it is. What I'm only now truly grasping is that just because I forgave as commanded in a particular moment, I still have to choose to forgive the consequences of the original offense/betrayal over and over and over. 

Taking time to put my finger on a trigger, chew on it, think about it, own the emotions attached to it, and working it all out are not enjoyable processes. By nature and my personal worldview, I have a proclivity to shove anything and everything remotely uncomfortable or confrontational under the rug, or behind a closet door. But the past year has truly blown the door off the hinges and burnt the rug to a crisp. There is nowhere for these unenjoyable, ugly, hurtful, and hard things to hide anymore. 

I am learning to be awake and present to myself. 

I am becoming fearlessly authentic, what Jesus created me to be. 

Testify, Christian!

 

January 23, 2021

Our time is short, the enemy is hovering and advancing at an alarming rate. The time for playing Christian and being a lukewarm believer is OVER. Jesus is calling out to His Bride to stand up, speak up and be bold in proclaiming His majesty, His authority and His rule over the universe, this world, this nation.

Can you not see Him, He stands at the ready, waiting for His Father to say, “Go get your Bride!” He will not wait for the foolish virgins that were not ready, or the guests that refused to come into the feast. He will come in fury and glory, releasing His wrath on the nations and drawing His precious people to His side.

Do not be consumed with temporal things, this world and all of its trappings, work, the pursuit of money and pleasure. Those things will burn in the fire of His judgment. He is looking for a people that are consumed with Him and only Him, with conviction to share His gospel with the lost and despairing. A people whose soul desire and purpose in life is to glorify His holy name, no matter the cost, no matter the persecution. We overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony! Testify, Christian! Testify! Praise His Holy name, for He alone is worthy of all praise, glory and honor! AMEN!

Testify by Jervis Campbell

GOOD-BYE FACEBOOK

SOCIAL MEDIA- it has become such a foul taste in my mouth. I've come to the place where I dread even opening my Facebook account for fear of the latest political backlash, COVID-19 conspiracy theory, racial horror, human trafficking atrocity, and the list goes on and on. Social media use to be a place of joy where I could catch up with old friends, and browse through pictures of my family members. I enjoyed sharing updates on our family's life. Lately, I avoid it like the plague. As I've pulled more and more away from it, I've been chewing on the idea of closing my social media accounts altogether. 

God has been stirring up in me the idea of  "smallness". I sense Him calling me to look closer and be more intentional with those in my life, at home, across the street, in my community, the local grocery store, etc. Social media is not small. It is larger than life, and I truly believe there cannot be authentic community on a platform where you can cast your opinions, thoughts, and words out so carelessly and not have to consider the cost of them. When we gather in the culdesac, or around the table, we are forced to consider the heart of the person across from us, where we can witness the brunt of our words on their faces and in their lives.

I cannot do life with my neighbor transparently or vulnerably from behind my screen. I do not have to contemplate the weight of what I type and share with others. I can cast it out for all the word to see and think to myself, I haven't hurt anyone, who cares? I have a RIGHT!

As a Christian, I am called to "love God with all of my heart, all my soul, all my strength, and all my mind. AND love my neighbor as myself." Luke 10:27. How can anyone truly love their neighbor as themself on a social media platform, from a personal agenda? I wonder if Jesus were here, now, in this time, would He be on social media? I have to believe He would not. He would be among people, present, talking with them, touching them, and in community with them. Jesus was all about "smallness". He ministered to the crowds, yes, but He did life and discipled only 12, and had three men that were his closest friends. How can I be like Christ on social media? How can I love Him and love others as Jesus loved us on social media? I cannot answer that question. I cannot justify my need for social media and I refuse to bend to its demands anymore

My children are my legacy. What legacy am I leaving them? That question causes me to pause and evaluate how I do life with them and others. Am I teaching them to look up, look out, to see the person in front of them, and to do life with that person? Or am I teaching them that in order to be seen, heard, and valued, they must be on social media and promote their agendas loud, no matter who it hurts? I want my children to see the effect of their words and actions on the people around them, not through a screen. It starts with me. 

 I challenge you to consider your need for social media. What is your agenda, what is behind it? Does social media define you? Can you truly present the real you on social media? Someone out there, next door, across the street, or at work, needs to meet the true you, the authentic you. The one that cries in pain and rejoices in victories. Go be that person to someone you can see, face to face. Do life with them. Watch the world change. 

If you know me well enough, we have done life together in some manner. You know how to connect with me outside of social media. I look forward to it.

Back to Normal?

Despite the efforts of COVID-19 and social media advising otherwise, my 5 children have officially gone back to school, face to face, after 6 months. I have had mixed feelings. After 6 months of being together, I assumed I would be exuberant that the house would be empty and quiet again, and not to mention CLEAN. There has been some of that but I've realized something about myself. When I am alone for extended periods of time, and left to my own thoughts, I can feel a sense of sadness creep in and I quickly try to shove it down, telling myself I should be happy and leaping through the house singing at the top of my lungs. Well, it just isn't so for me, at least not yet.

This is when I can wrestle with old lies and a skewed belief system that says I derive my worth and value from my works and the roles I fill. When all of the children are gone, I have struggled with feeling like I have no purpose, if I sit in this uncomfortable feeling too long I may even begin to dabble in the idea of going "back to work", whatever that means after being out of the workforce since 2005. 

So, today I am wrestling with that. God you are always gracious and tender with me, and I am so thankful for that. Help me to rest in you even as I wrestle with my discomfort in these eerily silent moments. 

Waiting

I'm sitting in the waiting room of my GI doctor's office, waiting to hear what the biopsies of my colon look like that he took when he did my colonoscopy several weeks ago. We are also going to discuss what medicine I need to start for my ulcerative colitis. This has been a long road for me. My colon started acting up as a teenager and has been a source of anxst for several decades. I am not a great patient advocate when it comes to my needs. I'm much better when it comes to my loved ones. Having been in the military for almost 20 years, the art of attaining continuity of care was lost on me. Knowing we would uproot and move every two years or so made regular appts for myself seem like a tedious waste of time. I had five littles to take care of and their health was more important and more pressing. But now I don't have that excuse. We are no longer relocating every few years and my children are healthy and more independent now. So here I sit, following up with my GI, anticipating great results from my biopsies and expecting low dose medicine for the time being. 

I've had a few cancer scares over the years with my breasts and my uterus but those all came to nothing, praise Jesus. I feel I have peace that surpasses all understanding with this colon appt because God has proven himself faithful time and time again. Jesus is my unshakable joy, in spite of my circumstances. He speaks into the storms of my life and even holds the boat of my life in the palm of His hand. I'm truly looking forward to addressing my chronic inflammation and seeing improvements in my health as I start medicine and make some lifestyle changes. I've started a Whole30 diet as well to address inflammation from a dietary standpoint. My hope and prayer is first and foremost that God would completely heal me. While I wait for that wholeness on this side of Heaven I need to be intentional about taking steps to honor the body God gave me. 

GI appt went very well. I have a very mild form of ulcerative colitis and will be starting on Tier 1 treatment with a follow up in 3 months. I am excited to see how God uses this treatment and my diet changes to bring healing and restoration to my body!

Where Have All The Words Gone?

Hello, blogging world. It has been a very long time. In fact, it has been over two years since my last post. Something I committed to doing regularly some four years ago, has turned into a  stray sock that fell behind the dryer and was lost forever. Until I did Spring cleaning of course and pulled the dryer out and found said missing sock. As for Spring cleaning, that is a bad word in our home, as is the word "bored". Deep cleaning and I have a hate/hate relationship. 

I digress.

Why am I back to the blogging grind after taking such a long hiatus? Words. Simply put. Words have a tendency to rise up in me, so many that if they do not spill out onto a page, they will insufferably be buried down deep and forgotten. It has been a long, dry, and isolating season for us all as we've suffered the effects of COVID-19 and have holed up in our homes, against our desire, for most of 2020. Now I've consumed my share of words, ideas, and opinions via social media, books, and other miscellaneous forms of communication. But I have not truly expressed very many of my own, organic words. I can get lost in books, both literally and figuratively as my husband and I both stumble over the piles of them I leave EVERYWHERE. If Amazon gave out awards for most prolific book purchasers, I would have that sucker on my desk, displayed proudly. But I struggle to set aside time to get my own words out and organized. What if I stopped worrying about organization and presentation and just got them out? 

Today has been an exceptionally low day. I experienced a "dark night of the soul". I locked myself in my innermost, Holy of Holies, aka my closet, and wrestled with God. The wrestling had less to do with the circumstances surrounding me and more to do with the wellbeing of my spirit man. Ask anyone and I am the poster child of "I'm fine, nothing is wrong!" It has only been these last 8 months or so that God, in His mercy, has begun to unpack my innermost emotional wounds and words, against my will I might add. To the point that I have to unpack, process, and sit in the moment whenever I am overwhelmed. I can no longer shove it down or under the proverbial carpet. It's actually impossible now. My soul refuses to be silenced any longer. Having a voice is a good thing, it's a God thing. For too long I've held a fearful hand over the mouth of my spirit and commanded it to hush. No more. 

Prune

What comes to mind when you hear the word “prune”? Prune’s definition is: A plum preserved by drying and having a black, wrinkled appearance.  For me, immediately I can relate to a dried up piece of fruit. Something that was once plump and juicy has now become small, hard and dry. Another definition that comes to mind is the act of pruning, to be pruned. The dictionary terms it this: Trim (a tree, shrub, or bush) by cutting away dead or overgrown branches or stems, especially to encourage growth. Both definitions mean similar things but also vary greatly.

Today I’m going to type about “transition”. To me it is a like a bad word, or a pile of left over crumbs that need to be swept up and tossed out. My hard working hubby is “transitioning” out of the Army and retiring after 21 years of service. Who knew transitioning out of the Army would actually be harder than transition within the Army? Ahead of us lies the great unknown: when/where will the next job be a real thing, where will we live, will I have to go back to work after 13 years of being a stay at home mommy? It’s like this big blank canvas. I’ve become so comfortable with the Army painting that canvas for us, in fact our entire relationship of 20 years has been canvased by the military’s paintbrush. Now before us lies this great, vast landscape. What do we paint on it? What colors do we use? What type of brush? It’s OVERWHELMING.

This has been my most hands on lesson for trusting in God to date. Pondering the what ifs, the unknown, the uncertainty drains me. It sucks me dry. I’ve been trying, unsuccessfully I might add, to maintain a positive outlook on this amazing adventure (state those that have not yet “transitioned” out). Apparently I am resembling a prune more and more these days, per my hubby. Not his actual words, more his concerned looks across the table while he plugs away on his laptop on all that entails “transitioning”. As a frail, imperfect human being, I can only maintain a sense of “everything is great, it will all be ok, God will provide, etc” for a period of time.  I think this prune is officially dried up and about to fall off the plum tree. Reality is setting in and there is no short, easy transition. It is truthfully long, hard, exhausting, emotionally draining and mentally taxing.

As for being “pruned,” not necessarily a fun, joyful process I might add. It hurts, it sucks and I don’t like it at all. But if I chew on its definition again I revisit the purpose of pruning: to encourage growth by cutting away dead or overgrown branches. Ideally I’d rather be pruned then end up a prune. That being said, what does one do having discovered they are becoming dried and shriveled up like a prune? I cannot speak for anyone other than myself. I read somewhere that unless I’m taking good care of myself, I will be unable to take care of those I love well. I read that and felt as if someone had thrown a prune at me , as if to say, “Wake up, Jami! You’re not doing anyone you care about any good by allowing yourself to become shriveled and dried up.”

Soooooo, here I sit blogging after a year break, tada! I also have a stack of books by my side that are crying out, “Put down your phone and read me!” Then there’s the desperate need to go SHOPPING, alas when one is transitioning, funds are not budgeted for “prune-like wife in need of a shopping spree.” These are just a few things that help me feel more filled up and less dried out, and I plan to spend time doing them, well except for spending all our savings, on a more regular basis.

How about you?? Are you dried up like a prune, in the process of being pruned? I would love, love, love to hear your thoughts! 

Happy 17th Anniversary, Jose!

  Today marks 17 years that we have been married. It’s insane to consider that in only 3 years we will have been married 20. I wish I could say it’s been perfect and without trial, sorrow or pain, but we both know that would be deceptive. No, our marriage has been richly colored with the strokes of compromise, sacrifice, brokenness, hurt, disappointment, anger, shattered trust, and unfulfilled dreams. I truly believe, however, the canvas of our marriage would be a colorless and lifeless masterpiece without all those things. When we first married, we naively rushed in, thinking marriage would make us happier than we had ever been, more fulfilled and satisfied than we could have hoped. In truth marriage has been harder, more challenging, at times with intense periods of suffering and silence as well as multiple, drawn out separations. To some our marriage would seem pointless, not worth pursuing or even hopeless if they truly knew our hardest and darkest moments. But Jose, you and I know the honest truth. It is only because of all that we have been through, all that we have endured, all that we have had to forgive each other of and the slow and painful process of rebuilding trust, re-establishing reconciliation and restoration, that our marriage is what it is today, 17 hard earned years later. Our marriage is not a fairy tale. We haven’t always been able to find our happy ending at the end of a long, silent and hurtful day. We have hurt each other in ways that no one else can. We have said and done things that we can never take back.  How is it then that we can even be here on this day celebrating our 17^th anniversary, another one separated by miles and oceans too? We both know the answer. There can only ever be one answer for a marriage like ours to not only survive all of the storms we have weathered, but thrive in them. The answer is Jesus. How sweet and good it has been to watch Him work miracles in our marriage day after day and year after year. He alone has been our source of hope, joy and peace both as individuals when we were not functioning as one and as a couple. His grace continues to infuse us with everything we need to forgive time and time again, step towards one another after hurt time and time again, reach out and be reconciled over and over, and pull each other up and out of our despair. I think I can honestly say to you, Jose, without the blood of Jesus Christ in our marriage, we would no longer BE married. My deepest hope and desire for our marriage is that this amazing, rich and colorful masterpiece that God has created will be a source of light, hope and encouragement to other marriages for the rest of our lives. May we continue to partner together with a Kingdom mentality. That means both of us walking side by side with the knowledge that this life was given to us for the purpose of glorifying God and enjoying Him forever. May we do that well Jose and may we BOTH hear, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” I love you baby. Through thick and thin, to hell and back, our marriage has endured and only by the grace of God will it continue to do so. Here’s to the next 50 years together, Jose!

Goodnight

I should be asleep, head on my pillow softly breathing. I need that recharge. The littles don’t know when I haven’t had enough sleep at night to pause before entering my room bright and early seeking me out. How would they know that while they slept peacefully I struggled through the night with too many thoughts, tears, and the dreaded self-pity party? I suppose I could chalk it up to hormones, a busy day or too much caffeine. But whatever the cause I find myself now typing away madly, hoping to catalog my woes and leave them here so I can crawl back into bed and close my eyes and sleep. There’s no one here except me, these thoughts, and Jesus. Yes, Jesus you are enough and all I need for every moment both good and bad. You made me to be an intricate, emotional and wordy individual though. So here I sit at 1am plunking away at this laptop. Random thoughts seem random. For me, right now, on this dark night, as I type by the light of my keyboard, I feel the relief oozing in. What am I even typing about? I don’t really know, don’t care. I just feel better getting it out. Being thankful works miracles for a downtrodden soul.

I’m thankful for healthy babies.

I’m thankful for smiles on their faces.

For hugs and giggles

For loud voices outside in the cul-de-sac

For a busy, productive day

For friends far and close

For my hubby’s face on my phone

For songs that seem to know me

For a whispered “I love you Mommy.”

For peace in my heart

For peace in my home

For eyes that have stopped leaking

For pillows to catch my tears

For good morning messages left by my baby

For this, words on paper, thoughts bled out, self-pity sneaking out my door, peace settling on my spirit and my bed calling me back to its warmth.

Goodnight.

Words

       Well hello my old but new friend, my blog. I know it's been awhile. I know I committed to reach out to you at least once a month. I'm sorry. I could list a litany of excuses to justify why my efforts have been sorely lacking. Truthfully I feel like we shouldn't meet up unless I have something AMAZING to share with you. I get lost in all the other phenomenal blogs out there and easily fall prey to comparing and falling short of their quality, skill and finesse. I mean, let's be honest, I am no gifted writer. I am but a humble girl, looking to put my thoughts down on paper. I use to fill journal after journal with all the tidbits, dreams, prayers and random thoughts floating around in my head and heart. Sadly now my writing ability with a pen is almost nonexistent. I started this blog to pick that old hobby back up. I intended to dust it off and pick up right where I left off in my last leather bound journal. Nope. Dropped that one real quick. Typing my random thoughts on a laptop almost seems cheap and not as artistic. I love watching the ink spill onto the paper, I like seeing pages filled, and stacks of various journals. However, not blogging is only adding to my misery. My thoughts fill me up like water sometimes that needs to be poured out. When I don't intentionally let them seep out whether on paper or here on this laptop, they start to turn stagnant. There's nothing fresh that can be poured in if that makes any sense. 

       So my neglected friend, my fledgling blog . . . I am going to make a commitment to you. I promise to spend some more quality time with you. Especially with my beloved off in another country doing that amazing thing he does, serving selflessly. 
        I miss that man something fierce. Whew. Now there's a place I can pour out all my random wonderings and he so patiently sits there and sifts through them all, pulling out the treasures and setting aside the nonsense. That man, over the past 19 years of loving me, has become a skilled listener, a tenderhearted ear for me to whisper my most precious secrets too. He holds my heart securely in his unconditional love. He wipes my tears. He holds my hand. He gives me his undivided attention. I'm crying now just thinking of all he is to me and all he does for me. Sweet Jesus, what a gift you've given me in this husband. This man, my beloved, helped birth this newborn blog before he left us. He tells me time and time again my words are powerful. He tells me my words encourage his spirit to get back up and stay the path one more day. 

The tongue can bring death or life Proverbs 18:21

The very next verse blows me away. Is it possible that simply by speaking words of encouragement over my beloved that I am bringing favor into his life, and blessing him?

The man who finds a wife finds a treasure,

    and he receives favor from the Lord. Proverbs 18:22

      Whenever I blog, good stuff happens. It's a letting of my soul. Almost like a seeping a wound. Stuff leaks out and immediately I'm feeling relief. It amazes me sometimes when I just force myself to sit and type, not even knowing what to type, out it flows. Before I know it I'm typing faster and faster until my fingers can barely keep up with thoughts pouring out.

Let's be honest blog, this is therapeutic for me, isn't it? I'm an old soul. I need to write down my inner voice. The voice that should speak up and out loud more. But that's another blog, for another day.

THIS IS WAR

      My hubby is the soldier, he’s the one out there even now working with others to defend, protect and strengthen. I don’t give myself enough credit. I am a soldier too, on the front lines in fact, fighting an enemy that strives to steal, kill and destroy everything good thing in my life and those of my loved ones.

        As a busy mama, a single one right now, I often get lost in the nitty gritty of dealing with all that gets thrown at me from a hundred different directions. I tune out the reality of the spiritual world I live in and instead point my finger and blame a myriad of things- germs, the weather, my hubby’s absence, my neighbors, my emotions, the list goes on. Meanwhile the craziness continues and I become overly exhausted, frustrated, angry, bitter and disheartened. This lofty goal I made to THRIVE and not just survive this coming year has so far yet to make an appearance!

      I forgot a vital piece of truth, a life sustaining, enemy shattering, victory making, joy-releasing truth. Thriving will come at a cost. If I want to see its fruit in my life and the lives of my family members, and even my community, I have a significant role to play. Thriving can only truly come through the powerful act of prayer and fighting for it. Like my picture of a bloodied warrior and her sword, I have to have a soldier mentality in my home, in my heart, in my marriage, in my neighborhood! Everywhere I walk, I will take ownership of that spiritual atmosphere and declare WAR with the enemy of my soul!

     So this is just a marker for me. I am drawing the line. This far and no more, Enemy. You will have no more power over me and my family, my hubby, my home or my neighborhood! You’ve messed with the wrong prayer warrior, with the wrong worshiper. I know you’re already defeated, HA! From here on I am taking responsibility for the atmosphere of my heart and everywhere I go in the name of your defeater JESUS CHRIST. THIS IS WAR. 

Sending My Soldier Off

Today Jose came home from work and informed me that rather than leaving for Europe next week he’ll be leaving much sooner, in less than two days. Yes, we knew it was coming. One last weekend was taken away. I don’t think it’s the weekend so much that upsets us. It’s the fact that it’s right in front of us now, like going into labor early and you haven’t packed your bag for the hospital.  We are kind of scrambling, giving each other those long, sad-eyed looks over the kids’ heads, hugging each other a little longer and tighter than we were just yesterday. You’d think we were pros by now, I mean this will be Jose’s 4^th tour away from us. If you add up all the tours and months of training in between we will have endured almost 5 years of separation in the 16 years of our marriage. To some that’s a lot, to others, hardly nothing. For us? Too much. Too much time apart, too many missed birthdays, too many nights alone, too many tears shed, too many “suck it up and drive on” moments. Too many, too much, enough. As hard as yet another good bye is, I refuse to wallow in misery and walk around in a depressed fog until Jose comes back home. My goal this year, this separation, is to THRIVE not just survive. I want to live in the moment, be present each and every day and not waste a single ounce of joy or laughter on worrying about tomorrow. I want my children to thrive as well. I want Jose to thrive even as he lives away from us for another long tour. How is that even possible?? There is one source and one source only, Jesus Christ. All else is but an empty promise of hope fulfilled, happiness or joy. Thriving will come by abiding in Jesus. He is my first love, my soul’s delight, my heart’s content, my spirit’s strength.  So as I send my lover, my best friend, my husband off yet again to serve his country, do his duty, I will stand tall, head held high. I will cry but I will not despair. I will miss him but I will not shut down and stop living. I will live life to the fullest and bring my children along for the adventure. We will suck every drop of joy and laughter out of every possible moment. We will waste no opportunity to dance, laugh loudly, sing our hearts out, throw open the windows of our souls and let the fresh wind of the Spirit of His presence blow through. May His Spirit fill every pore of my being, ooze out and permeate the atmosphere wherever I go. I send you off Jose with a tear in my eye, a hole in my heart and expectation in my spirit. We both have a journey to walk out this coming year, may the Lord amaze us both at His presence in our lives. May we both live intentional lives, with purpose. I’ll see you on the other side baby. Be safe, stay strong. I’ve got the kids covered. We’ve got this. Just come home to me.

Coffee, Laptops, Ramblings

Here I sit in a coffee shop, typing away on my laptop, blogging for the first time in what seems forever while I wait for my van to be serviced. It could be hours. Do I care? Not really. I just bought myself a laptop, my first personal computer ever. While I used the excuse that my hubby will be taking his laptop on an extended work related absence, truthfully this is something I've dreamt about, hemmed and hawed over for quite sometime. What's the big deal? Well personally I made a goal to be a "blogger". It hasn't really happened yet. Sure I have blogged twice in almost a year but that wasn't what I had in mind when I planned on officially "blogging". Truth is I find so many darn excuses to NOT blog it's pathetic. I've even had my 12 year old daughter pestering me over the past few months, asking when I will blog again. "I don't know!" is my typical response. In my head I'm actually debating with myself, why did I say I was going to start blogging anyway?? Now I have my little people holding me accountable, yippee. Yeah, not so much. Back to the laptop. Now I have a reason to blog, a new shiny thing, what better way to test it out than to BLOG?

To blog or not to blog, that is the question. When I originally started this thing up my idea was to just put my thoughts done and share them with whoever wanted to listen, obviously my idea hasn't quite taken flight yet. Ideally I need a place to put my thoughts, prayers and ramblings down. It's great to have a place to come back and pour back over these bits and pieces of my heart and life. I can look back and see where my God has been faithful even when I am not. I can see His hand in and through these so called ramblings and see His unconditional love weaved in and out. Remembering is not only therapeutic, it's biblical. The Israelites set up markers along their journey from Exodus to the promised land to have a place to look back on and tell their children what God had done and how He had redeemed and rescued them. Then there's the Psalms, where remembering is displayed in poetry, music and cries of distress. I am by nature a passionate woman. I laugh loud, I cry often, I pour out my heart like it's water. I love hard, I hurt deep. When I don't put down tangibly, whether on paper or text, what is boiling up in my heart, I feel I do it an injustice. God has made me a feeling, moving, expressive image of Him. His Word, time and time again, pours out life, love, creative expression and healing. As His creation, I need to let out what He's put in there. It doesn't need to be perfect, orderly or even publish worthy. I just need to put these ramblings, heart cries, thoughts down so they can be revisited and remembered.

For almost a year now I've been having recurring dreams that I am pregnant. For almost a year I have struggled with the desire to have one more child. Jose and I both prayerfully agreed that our little family of 7 was complete when our fifth child was born. So why this longing, this dreaming of being pregnant? Well, hmm, Jami why don't you ask your Father what that's about? This is what I've got bouncing around in my head and piercing my heart right now. I am pregnant with something. What is it? It's not a physical child, but it is something. Abba is growing something in me. Something precious that needs to be nurtured in my heart, a safe place, until it is time for it to be brought forth. When I sit and go through the possibilities of what my Abba could possibly want to grow in me there's two things that come to mind. And if I'm totally honest I've felt that there are "spiritual" twins being knitted together and formed in my innermost parts. There is a spirit of joy growing inside me. I am not talking about circumstantial happiness. I am talking about joy that surpasses ALL understanding. Joy that brings abundant, overflowing life. Joy that deifies all logic, all depression, all sickness, all hurts inflicted by others, all financial insecurities, all future unknowns. I love imagining it twisting and turning in my heart as Abba continues to knit it together carefully and intentionally until it's ready to be born. Joy's spiritual twin is BELIEF. Belief in the love my heavenly Father has for me.  For most of my adult life I knew in my mind God loves me. The knowledge never quite made it down to my heart. Personally I equated His love to my works. I had to earn it. Several years ago I asked the Lord to help my unbelief. I asked for Him to help me not only know He loved me but to BELIEVE it deep down in my heart, my innermost parts, where it would take root and transform my life, change my outlook on everything and become the lense that I would filter everything through. These "spiritual" twins are being nurtured and formed and my heart swells at the thought of their impending birth.

See, just typing this out and rereading it has quickened my spirit and brought joy to my soul. Thinking these thoughts only causes them to take flight, but when I choose to put these ramblings down, I can go back and chew on them, meditate on them and hold them like a precious gift given to me by my sweet Lord. Well I hope and pray my wandering but raw thoughts have encouraged someone out there. May our Father's love soak down deep in to your soul, fill the cracks, and seep under closed doors where we hide our dark secret hurts and shame. May His unfailing and unconditional love for us wreck us completely from the inside out. Time to refill my coffee!

Hello Blogging World!

          Ta-da! I started a blog. Starting a blog is more confusing and time consuming than I imagined. I just want a cute page with cool fonts and the ease required for a 1st grader to whip out a blog.  I am NOT technically savvy. I mean I can use my phone and browse the internet just like anyone, probably better than my preteen, then again maybe not. Why blog??? Well first off, I have a lot on my heart and mind. Secondly, I can't write like I use to. I mean I have been filling pages and pages of journals since I was 10 years old. I have them all stacked somewhere in a box. Sadly these past few years that has come to a screeching halt due to wrist and forearm issues. However the urge to write hasn't left. I prefer the feel of pen on the paper.  I like to see the ink spill out and leave it's mark on the page. I just don't know if "blogging" can fill that same need for me. We'll see. So here I sit, typing. I will probably waste way too much time trying to fine tune my actual blog's look and feel rather than focus on my actual blogging. 
         Like the name of my blog? "Grab A Cup And Sit" came to me while I stared at the screen trying to decide how to title this blog adventure when I decided I needed a cup of coffee before I could make it official. You see, if you know me at all, you know that I am a serious, die-hard, coffee drinking fanatic. I like it from the pot, or a Keurig, or at Starbucks. I prefer it HOT, not cold or luke warm, and I don't care what the temp is outside, it must be HOT. I think better with coffee in my hand. It's not just a drink to me, it's an experience. I anticipate the aroma while it's being poured, I like to watch the cream swirl around and the sugar dissolve and I even care about the cup I drink it out of. I like to collect coffee cups. So anyways, back to the title. I figure any time I blog I want it to be an experience for me and my reader. I want us both to be able to grab some coffee or tea or whatever it is you grab, sit and talk, share our hearts and be real with one another. That's probably my biggest hope in starting this blog, that I can be real with you and you can be real with me. I don't plan on presenting a Jami that doesn't exist. I will be raw, truthful and transparent as I share whatever it is I have on my heart to share. So I invite you to come join me on this "blogging" adventure. Grab a cup and sit with me!