Hello, I’m January
Inspiration and thoughts on God and faith, written by a simple human, navigating life through the messy and sometimes chaotic.
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holding on through the dry season
Let us hold tightly without wavering to the hope we affirm, for God can be trusted to keep his promise. Hebrews 10:23, NLT
I absolutely love fall. There is something about its specific sights and sounds that awaken a certain kind of pleasure. It started back in high school, when Friday nights were devoted to football and pizza. The excitement. The crunch of leaves. That lingering smell of burning wood. The crisp cool air. All the signs that a new season was here. Change was in the air.
As I took a day of solitude recently, I wandered down to the lake that is a short walk from my house. As I sat in complete silence taking in the sights and sounds of fall all around me. I once again felt the cool, crisp air. The hum of excitement. That wondrous crunch of leaves underneath my feet. And, I thought about not just this season of nature, but of my current season.
This season that hasn’t drummed up the same excitement that those football games did in high school.
The season that has brought a lingering, unexplained illness that has left me breathless, my body weary and depleted. In a season of self-pity.
A new season where some passion has faded. Everything seems too hard. There is just no strength left to even fight for what once made my heart so ready to move.
It has been filled with doubt. Some due to the barks and critiques of others I tend to hold onto for too long. Those barks and critiques that have left me defeated. Not willing to stand up and push past them anymore.
How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul? With sorrow in my heart everyday? How long will my enemy have the upper hand? Psalm 13:2
On this day. This day I declared a “me” day. To rest my depleted body. Disconnect from everyone and everything that was too hard. I took the time to finally look at the beauty that was around me.
All that comes to mind when I get excited about fall.
And I saw it. The beauty. In the trees that blazed shades of green, red, yellow, and orange.
See, they are in a season, too. Having spent many months thriving, growing, providing shade and comfort on hot, muggy days, they are now in another season. They are also in a season of struggle.
Yet, as they cling to their last little bit of strength they have left. As they hold onto that branch so tightly before they finally wither and fall…they are at their most beautiful.
It is in their struggle to hold on that they are at their peak. When they shine the brightest.
And then there also comes the time when they do stop the struggle. Wither and fall. When that beauty. That peak seems to fade.
The Lord helps the fallen and lifts those bent beneath their loads. Psalm 145:14
He doesn’t leave them there. Fallen. No. Not at all. Instead, at the right time, He puts new life in those withered leaves. Gives them a new season. New beauty. New strength to hold on again.
And, he will do the same for me. Through this struggle there is beauty in holding on. There is strength in clinging to that solid branch just to keep from withering. Even though I may fall for a season, He will be there to pick me up. To breathe new life in this weary body, and make me shine for Him again.
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Who cares about hair…and other truths about me
If only I could see you as you see me, and understand the way that I am loved. Would it give a whole new meaning to my purpose, change the way I see the world? -Mandisa, The Truth About Me
Growing up I stood out. Not for any typical reason. I wasn’t taller than my peers. I wasn’t exceptionally pretty. I didn’t stand out for any supernatural reason either. I had no awesome talent or some super athletic ability.
Nope. Nothing like that.
It was my hair. I had extremely, unruly, wiry, curly hair. Like…can’t-get-a-comb-through-it-without-getting-it-stuck-in-the-ends-curly. Puffy. Poofy. Frizzy on rainy days curly. Can’t do anything with curly. Same haircut since kindergarten curly.
And it made me stand out. Made me different. A target.
For envy…because I wanted the long, silky, straight strands of my classmates. The ones that could sit in class and brush each strand without looking like the love child of Diana Ross.
And for bullies…who feared different. Who called me names. All because my hair didn’t look like theirs. Or their dolls. Their sisters. Their girlfriends. Because I didn’t fit the standard of what the world considered pretty. Beautiful. Acceptable. Perfect.
I didn’t fit into a neat tidy box.
Now, many years later…there is another little girl who often stands out. In a world that wants to think that it has changed, but has not all that much.
This girl is my daughter. With the same unruly, can’t get a comb through it hair.
But, she’s a little different.
Unlike me…if she has one hair out of place. If she has one knot. If someone makes a comment about how she is different…she simply does not care.
We could learn a lot from this spunky, sassy, strong-willed, curly-headed, beautiful little girl. We could learn that it is OK to not fit into a neat tidy box. And to simply not care when we don’t.
See, we all want to think that as we got older and grew out of our “awkwardness,” that we also stopped worrying about our bullies. The simple truth is, some of us didn’t. Some of us still carry around the hurts of the bullies that made us feel less than. And, yes…let’s be real. Some of us still have a few bullies. Some of them even live among us in grown-up (even “Christian”) bodies.
But, we don’t have to continue to be their victims. Because, yes. We are different. We are set apart. Molded. Made unique. Made different on purpose. By a creator who loves us. Just.As.We.Are.
So, when the bullies start to attack again and tell you that you are worthless, remember that He says you are worth so much more. A worthy woman who can find? For her price is far above rubies. Proverbs 31: 10
When Satan whispers that you are not beautiful, or don’t fit in, remember that you are fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalm 139:14
When those who call themselves martyrs try to call you by your sin, remind yourself (and them) that you are redeemed! Because of the sacrifice of the Messiah, his blood poured out on the altar of the Cross, we’re a free people-free of penalties and punishments chalked up by all our misdeeds. And not just barely free, either. Abundantly, free! Ephesians 1:7, MSG
You are loved. You are worthy. You are set apart. You are His. It is OK to be different. To fit in a different box. To stand out in all your sassiness. Spunkiness. Strong-will. And to not care what the bullies or world thinks about it. Even if they decide your brand doesn’t fit into their tidy box.
Embrace the truth about you.
Love it. Own it. It’s how and who He made you to be.
Because He doesn’t care about our hair…and frankly, neither should we.
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Keep on keeping on…
I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past, and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us. Philippians 3:13-14
Lately, life has been an uphill climb. Each climb up the path God has purposed for me has led to a face to face battle with some unexpected and unwelcome boulder.
Usually, these burdens come along once the climb becomes too smooth. Seems too easy. When all those pieces finally get put together, and everything has fallen into place. We get complacent. And we think all is good.
Not so these days.
One day it is the boulder of rejection. Hurt. Doubt and lack of faith in what God has called me to do. In my emotions, I want to quickly turn away and run back down that hill. Yell that they are all right. That I am not good enough. That I don’t know what I am doing. That God really did call some kind of dummy.
But, instead…I get back up. I climb the next hill. Keep on keeping on, as our youth pastor frequently says. I repeat these words as I climb that hill once again that God has purposed just for me.
And, then…here we go again! Another boulder. This time-pain. Crippling pain. Want to stay in bed all day pain. Ready to crawl under a table and cry out in defeat pain.
But, I remember my purpose. I remember my call. And, I get back up. Climb the next hill. Keep on keeping on.
Until another one comes. The next boulder. Knocking me down. Until I am helpless. Literally can’t breathe. I am ready to wave the white flag of defeat. Tell God that I just give up. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t get back up. I am tired of being knocked down.
I am worn out. I am hurt. I am dead tired. I just want my bed, and some sleep. Someone to believe in me. Have faith in me. I don’t want anymore boulders in my way.
I am done.
I know I need to lift my eyes up. But, I’m too weak, life just won’t let up. And, I know that you can give me rest. So, I cry out with all that I have left. (Worn, Tenth Avenue North)
And so I cry out. My God! My God! Why do you continue to allow these things to happen to me? When will things get easier? When will I sleep again? When will you remove these obstacles? Why have you forsaken me!
What a baby!
Didn’t Jesus cry out similar words to the same God? Sure, he did. Yet, he also climbed that hill. Carried a much larger boulder than I ever will. Suffered pain I could never imagine, and gave ALL of himself for ALL of His people.
So, certainly I can get out of bed tomorrow and once again keep on keeping on. And, maybe instead of seeing only boulders in my way, I can praise God for the morning sunrise that greets me as I wearily drive to work.
For the kids that can look at mommy and know that for just tonight, mommy really needs a moment of peace and harmony.
Maybe this morning, the climb will be easier than yesterday or maybe it won’t, but I won’t be alone on that climb.
So God,
Let me see redemption win. Let me know the struggle ends. That you can mend a heart that’s frail and torn. I want to know a song can rise, from the ashes of a broken life. And all that’s dead inside can be reborn, cause I’m worn. (Worn, Tenth Avenue North)
That’s my prayer. That I continue on this journey you have chosen for me, even though it may be one rocky climb. Lord, help me to see that you can mend all the brokenness that comes from all the shattered bits of my heart these boulders leave. I pray that I remain faithful in moving forward despite these boulders daily, and continue to keep on keeping on.
And, let us run the race with endurance God has set before us. Hebrews 12:1
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Drop the weight, and give it to Him
Give your burdens to the Lord, and he will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall. Psalm 55:22
The Olympics. What an inspiring few weeks. Watching athletes who have trained for months, some years in their various talents to strive for gold is amazing to watch and behold.
These men and women, of all races, ages, and backgrounds have defeated many obstacles. Have shed some heavy burdens. Must train. Practice. Be disciplined daily in order to earn a spot on the most elite team.
Their training happens on the field. In the gym. On the beam. In a pair of skates. The court. They lift weights. They run. Swim laps. Build muscle. Stamina. Endurance. All the human strength possible to achieve the ultimate prize: gold.
My “race” this week was certainly not of the Olympic variety, but I had prepared diligently for it. Done my research. Practiced. Hit the gym, so to speak. Skated in the waters of number crunching. Phone call making. Calling in favors. Crisis management and prevention.
I used my human wisdom. My fancy earthly given knowledge. My human talents, and all my human strength.
Until I hit a brick wall. And all that human strength I thought I had…crashed and broke into a billion worthless and weak pieces.
And, I wanted to quit the race. Not show up. Cancel my membership to the gym. Throw the skates away. Leave the ball in the court, and not worry about who picked it up next.
But…I still had a race to prepare for…even with a crappy attitude. As I slammed down the simple snack that was supposed to drive home the message of “strength” that God’s Olympians possessed. As I grumbled over the pretzel stick and marshmallow that was supposed to represent the dumbbell that my poor, scrawny arms often lacked the strength to lift or carry. As I reluctantly prepared to train future Olympians in His race, I saw it…the key verse for the week:
I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. Philippians 4:13
The very same verse that I had tattooed on my arm as a daily reminder of His strength that doesn’t live in these scrawny arms, but in my heart. My soul. My mind.
The same verse that I often forget to turn to when those dumbbells start to weigh me down again.
Those weights of sin. Rejection. Comparison. Loneliness. Fear.
When I feel the weight and pressure of the world and I turn to the wisdom of books, or of others before Him. I realized then, I didn’t need the rest of this lesson plan at all. I was living it. That very day.
Because through my human desire to do it all on my own, my temper tantrum, a simple treat, and tattoo these kids learned about strength not found on the Olympic track.
They learned (well, the ones that were not stuffing pretzels in their ears, or seeing how much of that marshmallow they really could stuff in their mouth….remember…I said kids…) that even Christians have “dumbbells” they carry around. That their pastor had carried some, too-ALL.DAY.LONG. That we are human. That we rely on our human strength. And because of this we will have burdens that are far too heavy.
“Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens and I will give you rest. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” Matthew 11: 28,30
Oh, and I told them that, too.
That they didn’t have to carry all that weight around anymore.
And, so they dropped it. And, so did I.
Rejection. Bullying. Sin. Negativity. Disobedience. Loneliness.
And, I for one…feel so much lighter. And a little stronger and ready for the next “race” I know He has prepared for me.
So, I ask you this? What weight are you carrying that your arms just can no longer bear to carry? What are you trying to handle with your own strength? And, why are you still trying to carry it anyway? Drop the dumbbell. Just give the weight to Him.
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Before the world tells her different
Sassy, Stubborn. Bull-headed.
Words I often use to describe my daughter. The words I use to describe the battle of wills endured here at home. After the “No, I won’t,” and “Yes, you wills.” After the demands to do this and not that. To wear boots in July. Flip-flops in winter. The demands to have her own way, and be her own person. To eat chocolate bars for breakfast. The need to have the last word. To fight to the end.
Sassy. Stubborn. Bull-headed. And under her sweet exterior, a gigantic force to be reckoned with. Fighting to the end.
My dear, dear friends, stand your ground. Don’t hold back…consider that nothing you do for him is a waste of time or effort. 1 Corinthians 15:58, MSG
It is her stubbornness. Her tenacity. This endurance to continue the fight that I hope to never dim.
Because, this gift. This trait that often frustrates me, will be just what is needed for her continue to fight the “good fight.”
The fight with the world that will tell her she is too sassy. Too outspoken. Too strong-willed. Before that passion and determination is squelched by a world that just can’t handle it.
Help her see, that even if it frustrates me, that these traits are exactly what the world needs. Exactly what God provided for His purpose in her life.
“Before I shaped you in the womb, I knew all about you. Before you saw the light of day, I had holy plans for you.” Jeremiah 1:5, MSG
That her stubborn nature will be just what is needed to persevere when she feels like giving up.
Her sassy and no-nonsense attitude-what is needed when she needs to stand up for what is right. Speak the truth, or communicate passion for a cause.
That her ability to not worry about what others think, care if she is mismatched, and desire not to follow the crowd will come in handy when the world tries to break her confidence. Tell her to “fit in,” to act, speak, and look a certain way.
That her tenacity will help her continue to embrace the word “no.” That she is content and steadfast in saying the word. Knowing that she has this right to say it to things she doesn’t want or doesn’t believe in. To protect her values. Her peace of mind. Her body. Her freedom.
And, if dealing with this sassy, mismatched, and tangled mess of a girl ensures she continues to love who she is….then I will stand by. Daring the world to tell her anything different.
“You’re beautiful from head to toe, my dear love; beautiful beyond compare, absolutely flawless.” Song of Solomon 4:7, MSG
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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