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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Courage when things go bump in the night
“Don’t be afraid,” he said, “take courage, I am here.” Matthew 14:27
Recently, we moved out of the house we had lived in for nine years. For those years we were comforted and secure inside its walls. We had time to get used to every noise. The environment around us. Every creek. Every dark corner. Every creepy cranny.
Then we made the decision to move. Not an easy one. We had our little monster to consider. The one that doesn’t handle change very well. While we were blessed with a house that was on the same bus route, we worried about this new transition. What would these new surroundings do to our boy’s overwhelming anxiety? Our finely established and well-tuned routine?
For a couple weeks, it seemed we had made it through unscathed. Excitement of having rooms of their own assuaged any doubts. New routines were put in place. All was well.
New home. New noises. New environment around us. New creaks. New dark corners. New creepy crannies. New curly-headed boy fears.
“Mommy, It’s cweepy in here.”
This. The second night in a row. During an already exhausting week? Really? I just want to sleep. And, at first I tried to. Sleep alone that is. I had that “discussion” about needing to be a “big boy.” Needing to handle this one alone. So, I went to bed. Certain that once I put my foot down, he would heed this and try to be a little brave.
Until, I heard it. Soft whimpers. From his room. Whimpers of loneliness. Whimpers of fear.
“Honey, remember what we learned tonight. Jesus gives us courage.”
Yet, the room was still too “cweepy.” And, as I heard the soft footsteps. Saw the tiny shadow along the wall, walking along to Mommy’s room. Heard that tiny voice at the end of my bed once again reveal he was scared. I knew I had to be “it.” I had to be his courage.
Do not neglect to do good, and share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God. Hebrews 13:16
He has been my courage. He, Jesus, has sat with me and comforted me in dark corners and creepy crannies. So, I sacrificed some sleep, and I shared it. I shared some of mine. My courage. To ask Him for help. To let Him lull us both to sleep.
And, as he pressed his warm little back against mine, I knew that for him to have a little peace tonight, I had to give him a little of mine.
For him. For his protection. Because, right now…Mommy is his courage. Until he has the grown the wings to look for and rest on those promises on his own.
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There will surely be days like this
No test or temptation that comes your way is beyond the course of what others have had to face. All you need to remember is that God will never let you down; he’ll never let you be pushed past your limit; he’ll always be there to help you through it. 1 Corinthians 10:13, MSG
Some days really do play out like the pages of your favorite book. The not so happy kinds. So in the style of one my favorite childhood books, here is an ode to one of ours!
Mommy woke me up to early, and then I bumped my head on the side of the bed. I couldn’t get comfortable in my chair, and the shirt I picked out to wear was too tight.
The dog chewed my socks, and I accidentally wore my sisters. Mom made me brush my teeth before I ate breakfast, and now my toast tastes like toothpaste. That too tight shirt was on inside out, and now I can’t find my other shoe.
Ugh! Now look….Mommy, it’s 7:22. We are supposed to leave at 7:20. It’s raining. The umbrella just broke. The bus is late. And we have a sub.
It’s going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
Mommy says some days are just like that.
I didn’t get any sleep, and forgot to set the alarm. The dog has been in the trash, and it’s all over the kitchen floor. I have a headache. Stepped in a puddle in perfectly good shoes.
The bus is late. There is a sub. I’m sopping wet, and late for work. Without the lunch I left on the counter. And now there is someone else as I arrive laying in a puddle on the floor.
Daddy has been gone. My little monster is out of his routine. He is hungry. Kicking and screaming in the middle of the floor. And, Mommy? Mommy is crying in the corner. Hoping no one sees.
Today was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
Why are some days like that?
They are. There are days it seems everyone has dumped all their crap in your cornflakes. Cornflakes that now may taste like toothpaste.
On those days we may throw shoes. Have them thrown at us. We meltdown. React inappropriately because of all our mixed up emotions. Hurt feelings. Hurt others. Scream. Curse. Punch. Start loading someone else’s cornflakes with our crap. Then maybe the tears just start flowing, and you wonder when you will ever get a break.
Yes, Mommy said some days are just like that.
“I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But, take heart, because I have overcome the world.” John 16:33
Bad days will come. Those days when the struggle begins before our feet even hit the floor. But, we have a choice on these days. We can keep trying to push through on our own to get over all those hurdles, as we knock them all down in the process.
Or, we can stop. Breathe. Look up.
Just breathe, just breathe. Come and rest at my feet. And be, just be. Chaos calls, but all you really need is to just breathe.
Trust me. I know it is not easy. Being a glass half empty girl, my mind tends to wander to catastrophe mode. And my breathing is usually heavy and racked with sobs. Until I just want to leave those cornflakes on the table, run away, and never come back.
The suffering won’t last forever. It won’t be long before this generous God who has great plans in us for Christ will have you put together and on your feet for good. 1 Peter 5:10, MSG
Yes. His grace. His power. His strength. His peace. They overcome any terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. They will come. Again and again. But, he will restore us. Each and every time. After every tear. Every swear word uttered. Every shoe thrown. He will bring us back to our feet. And give us the strength to conquer the next bad one.
Because some days are just like that He said.
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My mess. Your mess. His power.
Spring break. A glorious week away from school. From paperwork. Time to sleep in. Enjoy life with the ones I love. And get away from the demands of home.
We meticulously planned each detail of our small trip away. Each day had adventures sure to please the picky fella that would be coming along with us. We were going to have fun! A blast! The kids would love EVERY minute of it. We would have smiling grins to prove it. Beautiful pictures that depicted the fun and excitement of our time away.
But, what about those that were not so picture worthy? What about all those messy moments we didn’t really want people to see?
We share all the exciting details of our lives. All the things that are going great. All the reasons we are blessed. The fun things. All the delightful details our social media friends long to see.
We make our lives look effortless. We want people to believe we have it all together. We hide our frowns. Our sadness. Our struggles. Because, who wants to see all that? Because, someone, somewhere may have told us that when we profess to others we have Jesus in our life, then life was supposed to be pretty and perfect. That you should stuff all those feelings you have. Hide the mess you are. Put on a beautiful grin and bear it.
Some may even make you believe that going through struggles means that you somehow failed God. Failed to hold onto His promises. To pray enough. That you did something to deserve it. Or, that by sharing your mess you diminish His power. Your testimony is somehow flawed.
Instead, we fail to be real. We hide the mess our lives can really be. We fail to share our pain because others just are not uncomfortable relating to our mess. It’s easier to smile and be happy. It’s easier to respond to happy.
For he gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and unjust alike. Matthew 5:45
My discomfort. My struggles. My mess. They exist. They have meaning. They have purpose. There is power in the madness. There is glory in this mess. The twist, turns, ups, and downs of what is known as “life,” happen. Sharing them is not something I will apologize for.
This is why.
10 years ago when I accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior…well, I certainly wasn’t happy. My life was a mess. I was lost. Sad. Crippled. I had tried everything. My life wasn’t a slew of smiles, but my photos chronicled nothing but “happies.”
I didn’t call to Him with a painted on smile, or an uttered “good,” “fine,” or “great.” I called to Him in the midst of tears and heartache. In the midst of a mess.
Now, 10 years later…I praise him with for those smiles, for those Instagram worthy moments. But, I still find Him there in my tears. When I am on my knees crying for peace. In the midst of chaos, and the mess that life has handed me.
He said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. 2 Corinthians 12:9
The chaos. The weary mommy moments. The mess. The hurt. The loneliness. The real emotions that my struggles create. He is there during all of them. Giving me hope. Rest. Wisdom.
The disappointments. The hard times. It’s part of my testimony. My story. It’s the stuff he allowed me to endure in order to let others know that God still exists in these struggles. This mess. That there is purpose in the madness. That there is a God who gets us through them.
All I have to do is look for Him. To rest in Him. Not to have it all together. Not to plaster on some fake smile. Because it is in the worst of my moments that I have found the most strength. A power I cannot claim as my own. The courage to keep pushing. The wisdom to weather all the storms that WILL rage, no matter how many blessings he may bestow.
My mess. Your mess. They do exist. They will continue. But, He is proof that there is joy that comes when all the chaos has passed. Proof that even when no one else can handle it, or wants to hear it, He can handle the mess my life has become.
He can handle yours, too. If we are willing to be comfortable with what makes us uncomfortable. If we can stop painting on happy, and share the madness that we all know we really feel. If we can reach out to acknowledge that the hurt and pain someone feels, is also something we have felt, too.
My mess. Your mess. Embrace it. Together. And, then sit back and watch His power make beauty out of our wild and thirsty ashes. Out of our broken and beautiful mess.
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Individually molded to be different
We are the clay, and you are the potter. We all are formed by your hand. Isaiah 64:8
My son loves to cook. He enjoys buying new cookbooks, and learning how to use new kitchen gadgets, and is drawn to any nifty “cooking kit.” Gingerbread men were no exception this past Christmas, and he tackled the task with his usual perseverance and desire to get everything just so. Getting the dough just right. Rolling into the perfect thickness. Cutting out each new shape.
If you look closely, each cookie cutout looks pretty much the same. Lined up neatly on a pan. All with eyes, noses, buttons, and an array of icing.
My kids, at first glance, have similarities, too. Heads of curls. Sweet smiles. Button noses.
But, they each have differences as well.
Two wear glasses. The other does not. Two have deep, thoughtful green eyes, while the youngest has happy blues. Our daughter is a free spirit, while her younger brother craves routine, and sameness. One is all books, books, books. One is all about sharks and Minecraft. While another is all wrestling and Xbox.
The same, but different.
In much the same way we all are.
While we all have similarities, we are also certainly not lined up in neat rows, and expected to all look a certain way. Instead, we are all masterfully molded into particular shapes. Given chosen personalities. We are cut from the mold, fashioned and decorated with individual skills and talents.
Wholly unique, and unlike a plate of cookies, not made to be molded like the next.
We are all molded by the master baker. Each difference (and similarity) chosen to be used to fulfill His purpose and plan.
You are not a standard gingerbread. You are an individual masterpiece.
Molded to be different. Molded to be great. Molded to be used. Molded to be His.
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Letting words speak encouragement
Critics. We all have them. Some more than others. For some, it seems that no matter what you do, what choice you make, how you speak…someone is always on the fringes, just waiting and looking for a chink in your armor.
It is enough to make a person crack under the pressure. To turn and give up. To throw their hands in the air and walk away. Maybe even lose faith in God. When spoken by those who believe in Him…maybe lose faith in His people.
The pressure to make all the right moves and to be perfect is astounding. The criticism so easily thrown around can weigh so heavy upon a person it keeps them down. Discouraged. We live in a world so consumed by perfection, and so ready to bash anyone that does not fit this ideal. Doesn’t do things in the way we think they should be done. Act the way we think they should. Look. Speak. React in perfect tandem with us.
So we become critics. As God’s people we stand before Him criticizing the imperfections of others.
Gently encourage the stragglers, and reach out for the exhausted, pulling them to their feet. Be patient with each person, attentive to individual needs. And be careful that when you get on each other’s nerves you don’t snap at each other. Look for the best in each other, and always do your best to bring it out. 1 Thessalonians 5:14-15
Encourage. Love. Counsel. Speak kindly. Offer help. In this we show His love.
Watch what you say. If someone overheard your conversation, would it encourage or tear someone down even more?
When God hears your conversation, is it pleasing to Him?
Would someone listening to your words recognize Christ in you?
Be an encourager. Be the sunshine in someone’s dark days. Be the one who supports and lifts someone up when they have fallen. Be the one who turns away from criticism and works to find solutions. Be the reason someone decides not to give up.
You may the only person in this individuals’s life who is offering life-giving words. These may be the only encouraging words they hear all day.
Say them. Speak them. Live them.
Someone’s spirit may just depend on your chosen words. Your encouragement. Your gentle love.
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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