A Spiritual Fire

I thought the fire was out in my fireplace. I stirred the ashes, and I burned my hands. ~ Spanish poet Antonio Machado

When I read this quote I related it to a spiritual fire. Sometimes it feels like God is far away and then you go to a church service, a retreat, a concert, a small group meeting or tea with a friend, or you see a movie, read your Bible, see a rainbow or hear a child's laughter, go to the opera, marvel at the stars or hear a song on the radio and the ashes are stirred and God is as close as He's ever been.

But if I say, "I will not mention him
or speak any more in his name,"
his word is in my heart like a fire,
a fire shut up in my bones.
I am weary of holding it in;
indeed, I cannot. ~Jeremiah 20:9

"I baptize you with[a] water for repentance. But after me will come one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not fit to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire. ~Matthew 3:11

I know there are SOOO many more verses about fire and it is used symbolically in the Bible many times, for different things even. Our God is a consuming fire. We are purified and refined by fire. Sometimes fire destroys and other times it renews. I may find and add more verses later. It's way too late right now. If you think of or find any relevant verses, feel free to leave them in the comments section. Good night friends.

Field Trip

I actually got to break free from behind my desk and go on a field trip last week. We took 2 van load of kids age 6-11 to a beautiful park on a beautiful day. What a blessing!

The van ride was a little noisy and stressful. I was in the van with the littlest ones. Luckily it was a short drive.

Actual dialogue: "Why isn't your seatbelt on!?"

"It is on!"

"Then it needs to be tightened! You shouldn't be able to STAND UP!"

Isn't she beautiful!?

There were catapillars EVERYWHERE! The girls were fascinated and love to LOOK at them. The boys picked them up by the handful and chased the girls...of course!


The little guy in the middle is such a sweetheart. He is by far the smallest 6 year old!

"Simon says, 'Jump up and down' "

This little guy was the star of the "High/Low Game". He would back up 50 feet to get a running start so he could jump over the ropes. He earned the nickname "Wheels"!

"Wheels/Monkey Boy"

These beautiful girls are sisters. I knew the moment I snapped this photo that it was special.

Group photo! I'm on the right in the yellow t-shirt.

The Da Vinci Hype

I wanted to write about the Da Vinci Code drama but tenneseeblogginmama wrote almost exactly word for word what I wanted to write. Her word is worth more on the subject than mine because she actually read the book and is going to see the movie. I may get around to the book someday. I want to read some reviews to see if the movie is worth the price of admission.

My pastor Aaron Burgess* also made an interesting observation and some good points about The Da Vinci Code vs. the Left Behind series.

*Unfortunately the link to Aaron's blog doesn't seem to be working at the moment. I don't know what the deal is. Check back if you're interested.

2 Years

On this day, 2 years ago, May 19th 2004, 3 year old Hunter Bittle was killed when an impaired driver crossed the double yellow line and hit the vehicle driven by Hunter’s mother Melanie.

Melanie is a precious friend of mine in Knoxville. This is Melanie’s story to tell. Check out the website: www.hunterslegacy.com. Melanie shares photos, her testimony, the story of Hunter and her inspiring faith. It amazes me that at the bottom of every page on the website is what I consider one of the most challenging verses in the Bible:

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, when you face trials of many kinds" James 1:2

I wrote Melanie and Hunter’s name by this verse in my Bible so that I will never forget her example of faith.

She has started a non-profit organization to help and minister to the victims of impaired drivers. She’s working to change the laws regarding impaired drivers. She speaks at schools, police groups,churches and more. They have had a blood drive on both anniversaries of the accident as a way to celebrate Hunter’s life. She’s amazing like that.

3 months after Hunter died Melanie's father died. In December 2005, incredulously, Melanie was diagnosed with breast cancer. She is only 33 years old and has no family history. She had a double mastectomy and is now going through the hell of chemo. The stress on her body has brought her Crohn's disease out of remission. It just doesn’t seem fair. Why this family again? Why now?

Through all of these trials, Melanie has sent out regular email updates that are candid, real, raw and inspiring. Her family is still hurting and grieving but she is leaning on her Heavenly Father to get her through.

I am so grateful to know Melanie and count her as a dear friend. I miss her. I love her. I love their whole family. If you will, pray for them.

True Beauty

For the most part I hate photographs of myself. I think most women do. Gee,I don't know why this could be. Oh, could it possibly be that we automatically compare ourselves to the photographs of models and celebrities who work out 6 days a week 4 hours a day with their personal trainers, employ personal chefs for several thousand dollars a month and are airbrushed to perfection for good measure? Not to mention plastic surgery and I don't think we can underestimate the power of good lighting. GRRRRR! It makes me so mad but even though I know it's total bullcrap and not a fair comparison, I still can't break free from the influence.

At work they decided to take a head shot of all the employees and put them in a nice frame at the entrance by my desk. Of course none of the women like their picture, but you'll have to trust me when I say it's the worst picture ever taken of me in my entire life hands down.

I offer the testimony of 12 year old Tyrone as evidence. He said to me "You were sick that day, weren't you Miss Jennifer?"

Must. Suppress. Hysterical. Laughter. "No Tyrone, I know it looks that way but it's just a bad picture."

His comment was hilarious but it I also took it as a compliment. That picture is not a clear representation of me. I know I'm not all that but at least I'm not THAT!Thanks Tyrone!

My God thinks I'm beautiful and my husband thinks I'm beautiful. That's all that should matter. It's taken me a while to choose to believe that. I'm definitely not 100% there but I think I've gotten better at recognizing the lies and trying to believe the truth.

I only have so much control over my physical appearance. All the exercise and dieting in the world won't change my facial features or my Fred Flinstone feet. I don't feel like plastic surgery will ever be an option for me. Of course I can't afford it. Would I if I could? I hope I could resist the temptation. I'm not saying it's always a bad thing and I don't want to judge those that go that route. I've definitely fantasized about it but I don't think it would be a healthy choice for me.

The conclusion that I've come to is that inner beauty is FAR more important and valuable in this life and the next. I need to submit myself to God and let Him beautify me heart and soul. I've seen the glow of a beautified spirit on the face of godly women. No Hollywood studio can recreate that!

In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven. ~Matthew 5:16

When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." ~John 8:12

But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin. ~1 John 1:7

The End and The Beginning - part 3

I knew that voice but I couldn't place it at first. “Sandy?” I guessed.

“No. It’s Jan.”

I have to tell you, if I could’ve handpicked one woman out of the 100 or so that were there from all different churches from all over the city, Jan is the one I would’ve chosen to pour my heart out to. She is a godly woman whom I admire and feel safe with. She knows my background, my testimony and the story of Brian. God worked it out so perfectly. He is so good!

“Oh Jan! It’s Jennifer!” I choked out and starting sobbing again. She started reaching out to me and letting me pour it out. It was probably another 10 minutes before I would even open the stall door and another 10 minutes before I would meet her eyes. She listened and she spoke the truth over me. Things started clicking in my brain. I started to accept the truth and FEEL the truth. I started to recognize and accept the things God had been revealing to me over the last 2 years. He gave me so many signs and spoke assurances to my heart that Brian was o.k. and that I would be o.k. and I was finally ready to listen and accept it.

The story of Lazarus was probably the most powerful illustration He revealed to me. Mary and Martha, Lazarus’s sisters, sent for their good friend Jesus because Lazarus was sick and they knew Jesus could heal him. Jesus purposely waited a few days and allowed Lazarus to die so that Jesus could demonstrate His incredible power over death. As Jesus approached his friend’s home, 4 days after Lazarus had died, Martha ran out to meet Him. She said “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.” That cuts me to the bone because that’s the same desperate cry I brought before God.

Jesus replied “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies.”

When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died."

When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. "Where have you laid him?" he asked.

"Come and see, Lord," they replied.

Jesus wept.

Then the Jews said, "See how he loved him!"

But some of them said, "Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?" (John 11:32-37)

Then He proceded to raise Lazarus from the dead. God is in control. He can see the big picture that I cannot see. He loves His children dearly and truly wants the best for them. When we weep, He weeps. I wasn’t pushing Him away anymore. I finally let Him comfort me as I know He’d been ready and willing and desiring to do from day one. I finally took the advice Jason had been giving me. I have to trust what I know about God's character. I had peace for the first time since that horrible day.

Could I have reached this peace earlier if I had only surrendered to what I knew was true? I don’t think so. I had to go through this process for some reason. I had to question, I had to doubt, I had to search, I had to grieve and most of all I had to grow. Do I trust God more now then before? I think so but I really won’t know until it’s tested again and it most certainly will be because that is life in this world. Oh how I long for heaven…my home…where there is no more pain and no more tears and face to face fellowship with my creator. I can’t wait to sing for Him someday in perfect harmony with my friend Brian.

Back to the bathroom……we started to have visitors. The other women walked in and took one look at us and sort of hesitated. Jan and I assured them it was o.k. “Come on in,” we said. “Don’t go to the stall on the left, it’s out of paper”

Jan said “We’re just here to make your bathroom experience more enjoyable!” We cracked up but people looked at us kind of strange.

I was finally ready to pray so we stocked up on toilet tissue, exited the “confessional” and found a quiet room in which to pray. Again Jan prayed exactly what I needed to hear. She injected scriptures into her prayer. She asked God to reveal the truth to me so that the truth would set me free.” And so He did. He restored the joy of my salvation, not a moment too late, not a moment too soon. He is so good! Thanks be to God!

The End and the Beginning - part 2

The main issue that was weighing down my heart stemmed from the death of a friend, Brian Defazio, on June 1st,2004. He was only 25 years old when he fell to his death while doing his window washing job. He was Jason’s best friend since they were toddlers, the best man in our wedding, the lead guitarist in Jason’s band and a precious friend to me and many others. While most people have a few really close friends and many acquaintances, he seemed to have the exact opposite.
I couldn’t understand why God would allow this, why He didn’t stop it. Brian had so much more to offer to this world. He wasn’t done yet, I thought. The pain was unbearable. There were no satisfactory answers to my questions from God, Jason or anyone. It wasn’t fair. I was also paralyzed with fear that something like this could happen and would happen again at anytime to someone I love. I felt betrayed by God, like I put all my trust in Him and then He let this happen. Of course there are no guarantees that these things won’t happen. I don’t even know where I got the idea that this tragedy and pain wouldn’t be a reality in my life when it certainly is in everyone else’s. I sort of knew intellectually that there’s no way God could betray me but it FELT that way and I couldn’t shake it for nearly two years! I rarely read my Bible or prayed. I didn’t want to talk to Him. I felt I couldn’t trust Him. He didn’t feel safe anymore. I know now and I knew then that these struggles were based on feelings and not on facts but what can I say? My feelings were hurt. My heart hurt more than I knew it could. I’m sure the fact that I struggle with medical depression sometimes anyway didn’t help anything. I crashed big time into the depths of despair. I stuffed my hurt, my doubts and my questions down somewhere deep inside, closed the door and threw away the key.

It’s funny though….when you keep stuffing and stuffing eventually stuff starts to seep through the cracks and under the door. It happened to me on a couple of Sunday’s when I would cry through the sermon and at the Casting Crowns concert the hinges started to come loose and things almost got really messy but I managed to keep the door closed for one more week.

I went to the one day women’s retreat feeling pretty numb and not expecting anything really. I’ve already told the story of the first half of the day. There was another speaker after the small break where we were assigned to hug strangers around us. The speaker’s testimony was powerful and my eyes started leaking again. I was starting to break down and then we broke for lunch and once again I went on like nothing was wrong. We laughed and chatted over lunch like all was well.

After lunch we returned to the sanctuary and kicked off the second half of the day with some praise and worship music. I started to lose it a few songs in and when we sang “Blessed Be The Name of the Lord”. When we got to the part that goes “You give and take away, You give and take away. My heart will choose to say, Lord blessed be Your Name” the door holding in my pain came off the hinges and everything came spilling out. I couldn’t hide my tears so I ran to the bathroom to hide in one of the stalls. Thankfully the bathroom was empty and I was able to sob long and hard and get some stuff out.

After 10 minutes of this, someone entered the bathroom and took the stall next to me. I tried to calm down and not make any noise that would give me away. I thought I was doing a pretty good job but then a voice said “I feel like I’m in a confessional. I hear you weeping and I could pray with you if you like. Do I know you?”

The End and the Beginning - part 1

The women's retreat was one and a half months ago and I'm finally going to wrap up the story. I've written it in my head a million times but kept procrastinating. I think part of the reason I put it off for so long is I wanted to continue to mull it over, to analyze it, to treasure it and make sure it was for real and not just a "mountain top" retreat kind of experience. Another reason I put it off is that it's a long story. I tried to edit down to a reasonable size but I couldn't bear to leave anything out. I agree with what Scott D. and Steve said about their blogs. I mainly write it for me. It's my way of journaling. It's therapeutic. When other people read it and enjoy it or comment or relate to it or whatever that's a sweet bonus.

I've decided to divide the story into three parts. Yeah, it's that long. I've already typed it all out so you won't have to wait weeks in between the posts. I will post one a day until it's done. So it all started like this......

See, I have this disability. It's almost impossible for me to cry in front of people. Sometimes I really want to cry. I want to let people know I'm broken down and desperate so they can pray for me. When someone else is crying, I want to cry with them and share the burden with them. For whatever reason, the tears will not come. I think it's a deep rooted pride problem. It's embarrassing to choke on your words and your face get's all red and puffy and the runny nose is the absolute worst part of all. If there are no tissues readily available, well it's just gross and uncomfortable for me. If you ever have the unfortunate experience of seeing me cry, you can trust that it’s a pretty rare event.

Sometimes the tears hit me when I least expect it. A week before the retreat I saw Nichole Nordeman and Casting Crowns in concert with a group from church. The lyrics and music and presence of God was so powerful in that place that my broken heart couldn't take it and I cried almost the entire time. I put my hair down so that it covered my face somewhat. When everyone else stood and sang I stood too, but I cried. I didn't even want to stand but I wanted to blend in with the crowd so my friends wouldn't notice something was wrong, but at the same time I wanted them to notice. I'm so weird.

This was especially frustrating because singing is my thing. Everyone around me was singing and worshipping. Singing for God is my passion, my gift, my love, my joy! It’s something I know I was created to do and I couldn’t. I tried to focus on something else to distract myself but I couldn't escape. By the end of the concert I was ready to confess to the group I rode with that I was not o.k. and I desperately needed help, support and prayers but as soon as the lights came up I was miraculously healed of my inability to stop crying. I went to Perkins with everyone and chatted and laughed and cracked jokes but all the while I was still thinking “HELP! I’m not o.k.!!”

to be continued.....