The Little Ones

I've been wrestling. If being passionate about something means you are 'awake dreaming' (oxymoron? YES!) at 3:00 AM, then I'd say I've been gifted passion. But why? Why me? Why now? God and I have been having some heart to hearts in the wee small hours of the morning. Needless to say, I've been remembering...

I remember back to the days when my boys were small. I worked as a waitress, mostly nights and weekends. I was a new believer. When I did get a Sunday off from work (usually once a month), it was such a treat. I would try to dress my boys to the 9s, in their little velvet hats, tall socks and patton leather shoes.

I remember one Sunday in particular, bringing my boys into the nursery and being told that if I didn't sign up for my turn in the nursery, I wasn't allowed to drop them off that day, or any day thereafter. My heart sank. Not knowing when I would make it to church again, and really not wanting to spend the one sunday a month I got off from work in the nursery, I took a deep breath and hung my head. Fighting back tears I took my boys into church with me that day.

I will never forget what happened next. A woman who I admire to this VERY DAY, came up to me. She had heard what had happened in the nursery. She told me she would work my shift. This woman had grown children of her own. In my mind, she had done her 'nursery duty.' However, I recognized that through her eyes, she was speaking through her heart...and it was God's heart. (that's exactly what Jesus did, He took our place!)

The boys and I continued to come to church. This beautiful woman continued to work my shift in the nursery. Eventually my schedule changed. My job changed. My life changed. I grew. My boys grew.

So, now, the tables have turned, the Lord reminded me, at 3:00 AM. God has blessed, and birthed, and stoked, a passion in me for the children of our next generation. I am honored. I am more than able to give back.

Big News!!

I just have to write. I'm not too good at keeping things quiet, especially subjects this exciting ....

I'M AN AUNT!!!

I have always known that I was adopted. I found my birth mother a few years ago, and that was a amazing, joyful reunion. At that time, I also learned I had a brother. I have yet to met him face to face, although we have spoken on the telephone on one occasion. As siblings, we share a bond unlike any other person. I never knew about him growing up ... but I often wonder if he knew about me ...

As an only child, I grew up thinking how would the whole 'Aunt Jody' thing work. When I married Andy and he had a brother, who had a child, I became an instant Aunt, and I love that!! But now, I am an Aunt ... by heredity!! The thought brings tears to my eyes. God has indeed woven a beautiful tapestry of beauty from ashes!

I don't know if this precious family will ever know mine or if our lives will ever entwine. Nonetheless, I love them. I have loved my brother from the day I found out he existed. I love his wife and child although I do not know if I will meet them in person. I TREASURE the distance I am invited and consider it an absolute HONOR to sign my name this day:

Aunt Jody

Field of Dreams

I've been having these reoccurring dreams. Some might call them visions. Some might explain by saying that it’s just my mind wandering. Whatever they may be, I've found them to be calming and encouraging, so they are welcome. They happen while I'm awake, and other times they happen in a dream while I'm sleeping. I will try to explain best I can.

I see myself in this big open field. As far as my eyes can see there is burnt ground. Soot. Nothing alive. While walking in every direction, all I can make out is black, filthy, dusty, soot. The smell is that (for lack of a better description) of burnt microwave popcorn. (In the spirit this reminds me of the valley of dry bones in Ezekiel 37).

I go to sleep and dream the same thing over and over. Days turn into weeks and the same dream surfaces. I daydream at stoplights or while looking out windows and the scenes repeat in my mind. The first night this took place, I had just delivered the news to our two precious teenage boys that their father, my former spouse, had died. The black darkness tries its’ best to turn into guilt, depression, fault, and despair. I battle the thoughts. I trudge through the darkness, cold, frightened and afraid. C.S. Lewis’ words “I never knew grief felt so like fear” resonate within me. The compassion I feel for others who grieve is astonishing. I never knew…

When the pitch black landscape from my dream began to change, I was asleep. I don’t believe that my mind would have fought the change in scenery, but while asleep, we’re not as apt to wrestle with thoughts. It was during one of my walks on the sooty, dirty, dusty trail that I came across a piece of greenery sprouting up from the ground. Immediately I bent down to inspect it. Sure enough, it was alive! It was growing. It was rooted. It was new life! In the spirit this reminded me of the scripture in Isaiah 43:19 that says, "See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?"

All of a sudden the field I was standing in began to transform. Plants began to breakthrough the soot about me, ankle deep, then knee deep. Soon I was standing waist deep in greenery. Flower buds began to form on the greens. The smell became that of lilac and honeysuckle. The gloom lifted and I felt fully alive.

Just as a plant needs water and sunlight to prosper, there are things I need as well. As this garden field seems to parallel this grieving season of my life, and at times the plants in my field of dreams wither and droop from lack of the things they need to survive, I, too, need to take inventory. How am I taking care of myself? Have I spent my quiet time with the Lord? When is the last time I've eaten? There are many days that just getting out of bed is a chore and I celebrate these small victories.

Throughout this season, our children have been exposed to more than I want them to be. BUT God has a plan and His plans never cease to amaze me. Our oldest boy sang at his father’s memorial service … “Oh, How He Loves Us.” The service was a beautiful tribute. Many Teen Challenge guys came and spoke of fond memories they shared. It was truly a celebration of a prodigal son coming home.

The boys wanted to give back to the impoverished place where their dad had lived his last days, so they orchestrated a coat and blanket drive for the precious people living down by the river. A city-wide campaign was launched and coats, pillows, blankets, cots and food were collected. Our family, along with fellow church members and friends, delivered these goodies wrapped with love to the residents of this place called ‘Tent City’. During that outreach, many lives were touched, including mine. I watched as our boys helped men twice their age change into ‘new’ pairs of coveralls and help get them ready for more of the cold, winter months.

Also during that outreach a young couple asked if they could begin coming to our church sometime. Our Pastor and I looked at each other, thinking to ourselves how cool that would be and that we would have to get that arranged soon. Without another word the couple asked what day it was and when we told them Saturday, they immediately said, “Well, tomorrow is Sunday, could we come then??” So, the very next day, and every Sunday to follow, this couple has been ready and waiting as someone goes to pick them up.

In this season of grief, the outpouring of love our family received was incredible. Again, I watched as our boys made decisions far beyond their years. As there was no insurance and this was an unexpected death, the cost was a bit much for an 18-year old, next-of-kin, to come up with. Our church set up a memorial fund to help offset costs. By God’s grace, memorial gifts came in at $73 over what was needed. Together, our boys decided to leave the excess in the memorial fund, not knowing what the next need would be. Just last week, with the help of the remainder of this fund and fellow church members, the aforementioned couple was able to MOVE from Tent City into a HOME!! This fund helped to provide their first months rent!! On Sunday, this couple came running up to my boys, tears spilling over from their eyes and saying, "If it wasn't for your dad, none of this would have been possible!"

In thinking back to my dream, God knew all along what was underneath that sooty soil just waiting to emerge. The seeds had been previously planted and were ready to breakthrough. He knew that through a burning season in my life, new life would spring forth. (Daniel 2:22 - He reveals deep and hidden things; he knows what lies in darkness...) He truly does work ALL things for the GOOD of those who LOVE Him and are called according to His purpose!!

Lord, let Your garden grow!! Let Your will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven!! AMEN!!

Choosing Grief

I have sincerely tried not talking ill about my former husband during his life. In his death, it is not my intent to paint him as a saint either. There is Freedom in the Truth. This is my story...

C.S. Lewis writes that "No one ever told that grief felt so like fear." I can attest to that. Recently, in sorting through memories of my heart, I've found similar hidden feelings that connect one to another. I believe divorce and death are closely related. However, in my situation, I choose one experience (divorce) and the other experience (death) I found myself dealt.

Its hard to leave a person that you love so much. It's hard to share more than half of your life with someone, believing the best, not looking back, forgiving the past, trusting God, having faith, yet .... divorcing. However, when safety, provision, and wise counsel trumped my feelings, it was decision time. I was sad. I was beyond sad. I knew this man loved me, and I loved him, yet boundaries had to be placed. It broke my heart to look our beautiful children in the eyes and tell them their father and I were getting divorced. The sleepless nights and waves of emotions came at me. Fear tried to take root. I still loved him, but I could not allow this for our future. We were toxic for each other. It just didn't work out.

Day by day, the tears subsided and the hole in my heart scabbed over. I began to eventually learn to enjoy the peace I had prayed for, although at first I did not know how to react to it. I learned that "1" was a whole number again. The boys and I began to rebuild. God showed me what it was like to be a princess, to be loved, cherished, and treasured. God taught me that I was capable of love and that I could love again. It wasn't long before God blessed me with my prince. THANK GOD that He knows what He's doing. His timing is perfect (at times I question the timing, but He is always on time).


Now, back to the story about grief .... this man, my former husband, that I prayed for, believed in, and longed to see healed, died. He was 37 years old. We were divorced when he died. I got the phone call while at work on December 27. We hadn't spoke for weeks prior and our last conversation probably wasn't the most pleasant; I'm thankful I honestly don't remember it. It broke my heart to look our beautiful children in the eyes and tell them their father died. They did NOTHING to deserve this. The sleepless nights and waves of emotions came at me yet again. Fear tried to take root. I still love him, but he is gone. His journey here is over, yet his story lives on.


So, whether our experience with grief finds us at the end of a relationship due to our own choosing, or in the finality of a death, the bottom line is, grief sucks. Through grief we are faced with tough decisions, hurt hearts, raw emotions and pain. Sometimes my heart feels like it cannot handle another painful moment, but to experience love we have to be willing to take chances, to risk being vulnerable, and to open ourselves up to others.


I love people so this is a chance I'm willing to take. Will I take a risk and love ... then there might come a time I will have to face grief again. Until then, I will enjoy the beauty of the moment and take every day as it comes. Love conquers all, even grief!