Hello, I’m January

Inspiration and thoughts on God and faith, written by a simple human, navigating life through the messy and sometimes chaotic.

  • If He sees beauty here…so will I

    If creation sings your praises, so will I. -Hillsong UNITED

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    I decided during my quiet time this week to do something a little different. Instead of my usual front porch sitting, I took my show on the road. I loaded up my Bible, my journal, and my pen, and headed to the lake in my local neighborhood in which I am blessed to live.

    And, I just sat. Taking in all the beauty that surrounded me during that time. The big huge boulder that supported and anchored my back as I sat in the grass along the bank. The fireflies that danced and skimmed the waters surface. The water that rippled with the blowing winds, and the sun’s rays. The stray bird that flew through the air.

    As I sat there, I realized that I needed to make sure that I spent more time doing this. Just sitting. Appreciating the beauty that surrounded me daily.

    And, then I thought of something else.

    What if I applied this to the body I was in? Saw beauty in it, and all that it has to offer? Walked into a room, not feeling uncomfortable, naked, and exposed? But, feeling like I belonged…because my Heavenly Father always sees beauty there?

    This need to feel comfortable in my own skin. To see beauty where God sees it. To accept my quirks as gifts from Him, comes from the transformation I have witnessed in the last several weeks in my daughter.

    My preteen, who still adorns her head with silly headbands, and professes she doesn’t care what others think, has now gained a certain slouch of shame when she witnesses the all to common changes that she is seeing in her body.  And, I know. I know she has witnessed this from me. Even heard many words of shame as I critique my body, my supposed personality flaws, my errors. Yes, modesty is key. Integrity. Righteousness. These are something for which we should strive. However, perfection doesn’t exist, and our personalities are usually given to us for a reason. Furthermore, being a woman should never be something of which we are ashamed.

    Then there is my son. Neurologically different because of his autism. A condition that makes him look no different, but yet keeps his belly in knots with anxiety. In addition, he is also a bit socially awkward…sometimes saying and doing the wrong thing, at the absolute wrong time. Who now has a sister who will wrestle with her self-esteem. He will hear her negative self-talk. See her be uncomfortable in her skin, and begin to believe it may be alright to talk to women this way. To allow women to feel this way.

    And what comes next, is the doubt she begins to feel when she hears someone tell her mom, “You sure are sassy!” She hears she needs to tone her spunk, her “go get em” attitude down a bit.

    When she hears me lament about some part of my physical makeup that I don’t like. My tooth that’s crooked. My too curly hair I only started to make peace with, that is just like hers. She will in turn start to wonder if she is flawed as well.

    When he becomes more aware of his differences (because as he gets older, they do become more apparent), will he continue to shrug off the kids that call him “nerd,” or “weird?” Will he be bothered by the fact that he truly is uncomfortable, because he doesn’t know how to interact in the space he is in? And, if I can’t see beauty in me. If she can’t see beauty in the skin she is in, he will in turn learn this is the norm.

    Her spirit is diminished more and more, and the belief that she is truly fearfully and wonderfully made becomes overshadowed by the critiques and expectations of the world.

    She forgets to see God’s beauty in the space she is in. In the body she occupies. In the personality He has given her.

    He feels different because he is wired differently. Thinks differently. Is sometimes awkward. Often comes off as rude. Wonders why God made him this way, and forgets that He too…was made in His image. Autism, and all.

    We are all messy, unique, quirky, weird, sassy, beautiful, funny, and glorious. In the space we are in. But, somewhere along the way, we will hear a different message.

    I hear…she hears…he hears…we hear…You don’t measure up. You don’t fit in. You need to change.

    If the stars were made to worship so will I
    If the mountains bow in reverence so will I
    If the oceans roar Your greatness so will I
    If the wind goes where You send it so will I
    If the rocks cry out in silence so will I

     If He says I am fearfully and wonderfully made….so will I.

    Because the tree just stands majestic. It may drop its leaves in silence when the time is right, but in due time, it buds again.

    The flower isn’t told not to bloom. That its colors are too bold. Its fragrance too sweet. Its petals and design too quirky.

    The bird isn’t told to sing a new song. That the one it chirps is too loud, not their style, or doesn’t sound quite right. It belts out its tune anyway.

    You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous-how well I know it. Psalm 139:13-14

    That girl. That boy. This woman. You. Will walk into a room and feel comfortable in the space we are in. Not slouching. Standing tall and majestic. Not feeling awkward, or weird, or different. But, like an exotic flower that blooms boldly. Like a bird, singing a song, that may not be someone else’s style. It may be out of tune, and too loud.

    But, if creation can sing praise for what God has made…then, so will I.

    So will I.


  • ,

    How are you….really?

    The age old question…”How are you, today?”

    Then…the usual response: A painted on smile. A handy-dandy, “Good. Great. How are you?”  Usually all uttered in passing without any secondary regard for what could potentially be bubbling underneath the surface.

    Many years ago my work “girlfriends” and I used to joke about a colleague of ours. It had to do with this same age old question. That simple, “How are you?” Our joke was that we didn’t ask him, because well…he would usually share his life story with us that day.

    I started to think of that joke recently in light of our often, probably not so true responses. In light of all the suffering taking place around us. In the world. More than likely in our homes. In our hearts.

    What if more people told us how they were, really? What if more people actually stopped to listen?

    Are we happy plastic people, under shiny plastic steeples? With walls around our weakness, and smiles to hide our pain? But if the invitations open to every heart that has been broken, maybe then we close the curtain on our stained glass masquerade. -Casting Crowns

    I don’t know about you, but my heart is heavy each time I watch the news. Read the paper. Open my phone, and read about another life drastically changed because of brokenness. I don’t know about you, but there are days I feel broken myself. A complete mess. And I am tired of staring at stained glass, trying to be honest, wondering if I am the only one who is a hot, stankin’ mess!

    Simply because someone didn’t feel like hearing my story after they asked the obligatory “How are you?”

    Paul sums up an important call to all those who follow Christ in Galatians 6:2: “Share each other’s burden, and in this way obey the law of Christ.” He was specific about the “law of Christ,” because the Galatians had been deceived. After Paul had ministered to those in Galatia, the teachers of the “law,” saw it fit to teach them something different, something that led them to believe that the teachings of Jesus were false, that “pretty living and acting” was the way to heaven.

    No. That isn’t it at all. It’s “real” love. What hurting people need and want. What Paul wanted the Galatians to remember is it is exactly what Jesus commanded them to do, and it had nothing to do with “acting” like they had it all together. It was the “whole law summed up in this one command, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” Galatians 5:14

    So, can I tell you how I “really” am? Can I share with a neighbor for a while?

    But would it set me free, if I dared to let you see. The truth behind the person you imagine me to be? Would your arms be open? Or would you walk away? Would the love of Jesus be enough to make you stay? 

    The same Jesus who stopped for the one to ask “Who touched me?” The same Jesus who stopped the disciples scurrying to let the children come to him. The same Jesus that stopped in the middle of the crowd for the one man who was calling his name. Who stopped EVERY time for the ONE. Never in a hurry. Never in a rush. Never worried that the one was a little too broken, bruised, damaged, or messy.

    I want that kind of real.

    And, I want to be that kind of real.

    To the broken, bruised, damaged, and messy. Like I am. Like we all are.

    Need someone real today? Need someone to listen to your story?

    I got time for your real. I got time for your mess.

    No stained-glasses here.

    Just a broken, bruised, mess. Ready for the one who can give an honest answer to the age old question…”How are you….really?”

     


  • But with God…it’s all OK

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    Summer has for the past several years been a time for renewal. It has been a time to focus on relaxing, self-care, and spending time setting long forgotten priorities back into balance. For the past two years the beginning of summer has not began in a mode of peace, and I have had to really seek God’s leading each morning as I read His Word. I have always found comfort in the verses and passages of Isaiah as I have hunted and pecked through my Bible over the years. Such messages as “do not be afraid;” or “I have chosen you, and not rejected you” (Isaiah 41:9); and “I will hold you in my victorious right hand” (Isaiah 41:10) have all provided me with comfort. And, I thought these messages would be fitting as I navigated new, unknown territory in ministry, and a new school assignment. Because, at times I have been fearful. Uncertain. Afraid.

    Then as I began to study all the chapters of Isaiah, I read that it’s central theme was “God as Savior,” and “redemption from Egypt.” Well, since I had felt like I had been trapped in Egypt for some time…well, it seemed perfect to me.

    For the past two days I have asked God this question many times: Why?

    Because, I can’t understand over the course of the last few months why some things happened the way they did. Why my heart remains heavy at times. Why I have cried myself to sleep asking this question, and hearing no answer. Why I still feel like I have failed in some way to fulfill whatever He called me to.

    Today as I sat on my porch reading over my daily assigned passage in Isaiah, I was directed to also read one from Matthew:

    “Stay alert. This is hazardous work I’m assigning you. You’re going to be like sheep running through a wolf pack, so don’t call attention to yourselves. Be as cunning as a snake, inoffensive as a dove. Don’t be naive. Some people will impugn your motives, they will smear your reputation-just because you believe in me. Don’t be upset when they haul you before the civil authorities. Without knowing it, they’ve done you-and me-a favor, given you a platform for preaching the kingdom news! And don’t worry about what you’ll say or how you’ll say it. The right words will be there; the Spirit of your Father will supply the words.” (Matthew 10:16-20, MSG)

    I wasn’t arrested. I never stood trial. But, there were days I felt like I was whipped, branded a liar, and some crazy person for doing what God wanted me to do. Mocked in front of others because I “prayed about it.” And in the end, not able to speak the truths I knew. Those that still haunted me at times.

    But God…he had more to show me on that porch:

    But everyone who endures to the end will be saved. When you are persecuted in one town, flee to the next. Matthew 10:22-23

    I stopped. Looked up. And simply said: “God, I have found favor in you, haven’t I?”

    See, He hadn’t left me. He had given me a way out.

    And while I wept, I knew in that moment…everything was going to be OK.

    “The Lord will fight for you while you keep silent.” Exodus 14:14

    Maybe I wasn’t able to fight an earthly battle for truth and justice, but God…He was fighting. Truth and justice would win eventually. And, it was all going to be OK.

    Maybe I had to be broken, beaten, whipped, and bruised in order to be made new and victorious. But with God, it was all going to be OK.

    I had been as gentle as a sheep. As harmless as a dove. I had shown God’s love, and not wavered. I had endured to the end, and done what he had instructed. not leaving Him. And, God…He certainly never left me. And, it is all going to be OK.


  • ,

    So that no one walks alone

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    “I’m bored.”

    “She’s an idiot. Why does she want to go to the pool so much.”

    “You are the worst brother ever. You don’t ever want to do anything”

    “You are stupid. I am sick of sitting by this stupid, stupid pool, stupid head.”

    When they are not fighting over who gets the hour of free time. They fight over whose turn it is to go first.

    When I am not rock-paper-scissoring these fights, I am dragging one kicking and screaming out of said pool after he has smacked me in front of everyone for asking him to sit down, and not ask me one more time when it is time to leave the “dummy” pool with “dummy Hayley.”

    When I am not battling fights at the pool, I am battling them at the cabin, in a tiny room over whether they will play Monopoly or Clue, or even play a game at all. Whether Hunter is “boring,” or Hayley is once again “dumb” for even liking board games.

    We were only away two days, and if the kids were not entertained every second they did not know what to do. They fought like 2 rabid pit bulls. Mommy could not please both, because neither of them seem to like the same things, and if they do it’s definitely not at the same time. The schedule Mommy tried to impose to ensure both got ample time at each activity of their choice is not working. Mom is frantic, has lost her cool, and then some, and needs something to sustain her.

    Coffee can only go so far. And, after I head back into the pool. After the curly-headed monster has screamed a couple “nos” at me, and slapped at me again. As he stands there kicking at the fence and grunting, I realize that as I sit back down, I may be surrounded by a ton of people, but I am utterly and helplessly alone.

    I don’t have anyone here to help carry this load when I can’t split myself in two.

    No one is reassuring me that my parenting decision was not one that will scar him for life.

    That my daughter won’t resent all the time her younger brother takes from her.

    Instead, this frantic mom wanted to find a corner, and kick at the fence herself. Or, at least find a small hole to crawl into. I was embarrassed, frustrated, feeling under appreciated, and then it happened. The tears I was trying so hard to fight, finally just fell.

    Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ. Galatians 6:2

    Until, one mom saw the tears falling as I sat on the side of that pool. As I sat trying to hide them neatly underneath the big hat I wore.

    “What are your kids names? Are they coming back in a few weeks for camp?”

    I explained that yes, the oldest one surely, but that curly-headed monster…more than likely-no. He had autism, and with it some issues that he just couldn’t get over that kept him from enjoying it.

    “Oh, my oldest has Aspergers. I totally understand. It’s hard.”

    There it was. Relief.

    Someone who had seen my mommy moment. My “I want to melt right here and disappear” moment, and reached out.

    And, even if this Mom didn’t understand what I was going through in that moment, she tried.

    I know God is with me. I know in those moments when I feel alone, I can call on Him, and He will be there.  However, he has wired us for human connection.  And, there are times I desperately need that. And, I am pretty sure you do, too.

    And with this connection comes His desire for us to share each other’s burdens. To walk with a mom who is having a hard time. So she isn’t sitting at the pool feeling so alone.

    It will take us out of our comfort zones. This I know is true, but it will also breath life into some desperate soul wanting to give up. Hope into a weary parent who sees only their failings.

    “I tell you the truth, when you refused to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me.” Matthew 25:43

    In a world that appears to be hurting and hiding it well, reaching outside your comfort zone, provides light to someone who may feel all alone in their struggles. May give someone the ability to reach out next time they feel like giving up. Screaming. Or running for the hills. Most importantly, it shows them the love of our Savior.

    We are called to be that light to others as a community of believers, but the question is- are we? Are we like that Mom at the pool, willing to see the tears that fall, and get a little messy with them? Or do we steer clear, not wanting to have anything to do with that? When we ask someone how they are doing, do we really stop and wait for their answer? Or, are we offering fly-by conversation out of obligation, an “I’m asking how you are because I have to’s” with no desire to really know? Jesus certainly never stopped to wonder if someone was worthy of his time when he saw others hurting, or marched on intent on getting to his next stop. Neither should we.

    Let’s be a little more messy. Jump in, walk with someone a while, and leave people a little less alone. You could be just the friend someone needs that particular moment or day. You could be the hope that Mom needs to just keep going. The reason someone’s tears suddenly disappear. The reason someone doesn’t melt into a puddle at the pool. It may take some time. It may be uncomfortable, but it will ensure that no one ever walks through their mess alone.


  • ,

    Not a Stand-In Comforter

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    If you look closely in the picture above. Beyond the curly-headed boy, focused intently on the puzzle sure to keep him busy for at least five minutes on a long car ride. You will see, peeking from his little lap-the blue, tattered, and worn face of his beloved puppy.  This puppy has been Hunter’s devoted mate since he was about 3 months old, and the joke around here, is that it will be with him when he graduates from high school, and if he ever actually decides to leave home.

    He is unable to speak. However, he has been a constant. Steady. Devoted friend to the child who craves sameness, consistency, and routine.

    And, although he doesn’t have a heart, can’t breath, or move; he has been the keeper of, and taken the brunt of my overloaded little boy’s emotions.

    Puppy. (So aptly named because in Hunter thinking he shall be named what he is-a puppy) has soaked tears. Of loneliness. Despair. Sadness. Has been held onto as a lifeline during times of worry and anxiety. Has been clutched during screaming fits of frustration, confusion, and anger. He has helped calm the fears of the unknown, the new and different. Weathered sickness, shots, and long, exhausting car rides. He has soothed nightmares. Made bus rides with substitutes bearable, for both parents and child. He is depended upon for peace in the midst of chaos. Clarity in the face of confusion. Called on in the presence of fear. When the usual safety nets-mom and dad-are absent for a time, Puppy is the stand-in.

    My little “monster” may need him for now.  He may still need him come graduation day. His object of security provides him with trust and faith as he navigates a world of which he often can’t make sense.

    But, he doesn’t really need puppy at all.

    His security lies in someone much more powerful than any stuffed dog.

    And so does ours…

    But, just like Hunter’s puppy, we cling to earthly security. We put our faith in the knowledge of people. Books. Possessions. Social media outlets. What the internet, or so and so down the street says. What our teachers tell us. Our friends. All those people we just “know” will come save us when we find ourselves in trouble. And God forbid we lose a WiFi connection, or have a bad day. When these worldly things fail that we turn to in times of stress, and we get in a tizzy, we may just turn to an unhealthy crutch to get us through it all. I know, because I do many of these things. Have coped with some unhealthy “puppies”, too.

    Just as Hunter does not need that puppy to get him through the hard stuff. We don’t need those things either.

    See, God provides all the things our objects of security and devotion seem to fulfill for us.

    God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble. Psalm 46:1

    We just reach for Him. Because, eventually when we reach for the chocolate, there will be none left. When we reach for the bottle, it will be empty. When we reach out to phone a friend, there will be no answer. And, stuffed childhood puppies, became tattered, torn, and worn. Eventually tossed away and forgotten, too.

    But God doesn’t leave. His love doesn’t run dry. And He always answers.

    As tears fall. When worries get big. When we scream in anger. When our hearts are broken. When we are just plain confused, and need some clarity. He’s a steady, devoted friend, even until graduation. Surely, all the way to the end.

    “And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” Matthew 28:20


About Me

I am January! Wife, mother, meemaw, pastor, and mental health provider who makes it through the day with my coffee, my journal, and my God; and I am also on some days a hot mess. A simple human, navigating life through the messy and sometimes chaotic.

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