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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One Word-Perseverance
I like to think I have a way with words, with at least the written words that express my thoughts, my emotions, my desires. However, sometimes choosing just one word becomes a little more daunting.
Last year I joined a group of women in an on-line bible study in which I participate in choosing one word to live by for the year. This one word would replace any resolutions that would certainly be broken by the second day of January. Deciding on the one word that would define my year was not too complicated, but living it out was often something else entirely.
It is said when you choose this one word that God will reveal how exactly He plans for you to live up to it. And that He did.
While I did prove at times to be far from fearless, I also learned to understand…
Letting go is fearless. Admitting defeat is fearless. Admitting your faults and being transparent is fearless. Telling your story, as ugly as it may be is fearless. Forgiveness is fearless. Asking for help is fearless.
Faith in the midst of doubt is fearless. Embracing the twists and turns of life is fearless. Parenting is fearless. Love is fearless.
This year, this one who thinks she is so great with words, has had a tough time finding the “one.”
Until I lay in bed for the third week of an illness that quickly turned into pneumonia. Gasping for air. Tired. Weary. Worn. More sick than I had ever been.
Crying out for God to just give this weary girl some rest. Cursing Him for not providing the healing He had promised. Angry because the mission He had set out for me couldn’t possibly be fulfilled in this bed. On this couch. Gasping for breath. Tired, Weary. Worn.
Ready to give up on Him altogether.
Ready to give up…something that comes so easy to me.
The one who was “fearless” enough to stand in a room of strangers and tell her ugly story, couldn’t seem to find the motivation or strength to complete the simplest of tasks. To follow through on all the things she needed or desired to do.
The one who can fearlessly wrestle monsters, gives up too easily on other things that just seem to hard.
Like the guitar I played for a week, and then never picked back up.
Like all the books I started and never finished.
Like all the conversations I was too scared to have with the people who needed to hear my words the most.
The ideas and goals I have that I never write down, and then never start.
The good intentions and best laid plans I throw to the side when it gets to tough to follow through.
The “clean” eating. The desire to run I wanted to find again. The dream I so want to make happen. The marriage I take for granted. The prayers I never pray. The time I never have. Too hard. So, I just give up or never start.
And, here I was again. Ready to give up because God was making things too hard.
Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love Him. James 1:12
So, my one word. The one word God revealed to me as I lay screaming at Him. Angry. Gasping for air. Tired. Weary. Worn.
Perseverance.
Perseverance to pick up that guitar and finally learn to play it. Perseverance to get those dreams and goals written down so they can finally be achieved.
To finish that book. To follow through on those best laid plans and good intentions. To make time for God. My health. My family. My marriage.
To fight the urge to give up on people, projects, hopes when they get too hard. Or, to give up on God when he doesn’t answer.
Perseverance to run the race He will set before me. Never quitting. Never faltering. Never giving up.
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When Joy Seems Hard to Find
The grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason. -Dr. Suess, How the Grinch Stole Chistmas
Usually Christmas brings me much joy each year. By the end of November, I have my tree up, my shopping is done, the gifts are wrapped, and I am ready for Christmas music, lights, and festivities.
This year? Not so much. This year I have been somewhat of a Christmas grinch. Not really sure why the usual joy I have for the season has been replaced with the mood and attitude of Scrooge, and a cloud of perpetual gloom, that began long before the season ever did.
Back in the fall I made the decision to leave my part-time job in order to focus on my studies as a counseling student, my ministry, and my work in the evenings with teens and families in the community. While ultimately I believe God made it clear this was the move for me, it hasn’t always been an easy one. It has also come with a number of changes and adjustments.
Like the days at home while most everyone else is working. The days that have left me feeling lonely and isolated.
Like the missed appointments with clients that has meant missed paychecks, missed gifts, and missed “mommy” dates with friends. Leaving me feeling lonely, isolated, and broke.
Or, the nights spent mentoring, counseling, and helping others while my family is at home cuddling, playing, and bonding.
Or the cold, dreary weather that seems to have lingered, making it even harder to muster up the strength and motivation to just get out of the house.
Or, maybe it is the realization that comes when you visit your sibling in jail, give him a hug, and know that once again you will spend another Christmas without him.
Whatever the circumstances, I am left with feelings of loneliness, isolation, moodiness, and gloom. A deep ache and longing for some “thing” that just seems to be missing this year.
Then, by the will of God, I will be able to come to you with a joyful heart, and we will be an encouragement to each other. Romans 15:32
I have tried to find that joy. I have tried to fix this bah-humbug mood of mine. I have tried every “remedy” I could think of.
Flipping on those shiny lights and turning on Christmas music just to get through a gift wrapping session.
I have tried to create happy moments with my family by scheduling times to cut snowflakes, make hot chocolate, or enjoy ice cream by the tree.
I even remembered the way my mom got us in the spirit-with good ole fashioned living room dance parties with Elvis as the emcee.
I plastered on smiles for my kids. I have gone through the motions trying to put the jolly back in this holly season. But I couldn’t find it.
I couldn’t find it as the lack of cheer now spilled to my children. So that those planned moments to spend together this season only ended in fights, declarations of “This is boring…” and meltdowns. So that Mommy is now the one making the ornament, cutting the snowflakes, making the Christmas cards, and decorating the tree-isolated and once again…alone.
I couldn’t find it, because all I wanted to do was sit under the tree I didn’t even feel like putting up, and cry. And then, cancel the whole Christmas shebang altogether!
“I bring good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior-yes, the Messiah, the Lord-has been born this day in Bethlehem. Luke 2:10-11
And, so comes that voice. The one that always shakes me out of my sulking, when all I want to do is drown in self-pity.
Look around you, January.
At what exactly, Lord? Yes, I am aware that this house is a mess. I can’t find the strength to do that either.
Look around at your home, January. The mess that means laughter, and yes, even chaos have filled these walls. A mess that shows you are blessed beyond measure.
Listen, January.
To what? Those screams? The screams from a desperately emotional child? The screams back from his weary momma?
Listen, January. To the laughter. To the fighting that means they are learning to navigate the world of relationships.
Look at your mantel, January.
Really, Lord? Now you are going to point out the fact that my home is full of dust!
You mean the dust that is not unlike that of that lowly manger sitting there?
Oh, right.
The lowly manger of a king born. The king who we celebrate each season. The king who deserves much more than my isolated and lonely bah-humbug.
The joy that has nothing to do with money, lights, paper snowflakes, or abandoned cups of hot cocoa. The joy that lies in a manger. The joy of a baby, born alone, isolated and desperate in the midst of dust just to save me.
To save me from loneliness when that missing piece seems nowhere to be found.
To save me from isolation when I’m stuck in a cold and dark house alone.
To save me from self-pity and sorrow when the paycheck quits coming, the gifts aren’t there to wrap, and your feeling anything but holly jolly.
The joy that can’t be wrapped up in a bow. Can’t be placed in well-organized moments, and perfectly baked cookies.
The joy of Christ that reaches down to fill all the longing and lonely places that dwell in this heart.
The true joy of the Christmas season and every season in between.
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Do You Need A Reminder?
“Why are these notes still on the mirror?”
“Not sure, Hayley, Maybe he thought you needed to be reminded of these things again today. Do you need a reminder?”
Of course, who knew that the person needing the reminder would be me.
A couple nights earlier, (a dark and wet night, I will add), as I made my trek through the muddy yard to pull a pile of junk mail and bills out of our mailbox, I slipped. Fell. Injured the wrist I used to keep from falling on my face.
It hurt. I couldn’t use the hand I needed to do so many things, and I was pretty sure I had broken it. 4-6 weeks in a cast at Christmas? Great! But, at least at some point it would heal, right?
“Well, Mrs. Marshall. What looked like a break on the original x-ray was actually just a defect in the way your wrist bone grew. At least it isn’t broken, right?
Sure. No cast. But, what is this “defect” mess?
And, this is where it all begins. The self-criticism that begins to fester, and begins to tell me-Great. Another flaw. Another “defect” that will never heal or go away.
Another one to add to all those others. To add to the already “messed up” DNA I possess.
The spinal defects that keep me in constant pain daily.
The crooked teeth I try to hide when I smile.
“Strong” arms I cover up because I think they are fat.
The curly hair I chopped off because it made me look different.
The pain and mistakes in the past I swore no longer defined me.
The “defects” that now consist of a new one.
And, then I see it. That mirror. Those notes. The ones I left to remind my kids of their worth. The ones that now whisper: January, Do you need a reminder? You are beautiful. You are brave. You are strong. You are smart. You are loved. You are a child of God.
You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Psalm 139:13
You are beautiful. You are brave. You are strong. You are smart. You are loved. You are a child of God.
January, Do you need a reminder?
Yes, I did. Because just as I tell my son that his autism does not mean he is defective…God wants me to know the same.
That, yes. Maybe I was born with a weak spine. Maybe something (I will die swearing it was not coffee!) stunted my bones into thinking they did not need to grow. Maybe my teeth aren’t straight, and maybe I suffered a lot of heartache and pain. And, yes. I also have some crummy inherited tendencies and DNA, but I am His. Created to be just this way.
What I see as “defects,” he sees as beauty. All these situations, flaws, imperfections, and trials were given to me for a purpose.
To help a little boy embrace and find a purpose in his “defects.”
To help others let go of shame, and define themselves by God’s standards and not the mistakes they have made.
To help others realize that beauty has nothing to do with “good” hair, straight teeth, or well-toned arms.
So, do you need a reminder?
You are beautiful. You are brave. You are strong. You are smart. You are loved. You are a child of God.
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He Wants to Be Your “Friend”
“Seek first the kingdom of God, and He will give you all you need.” Matthew 6:33
A few months ago, I wrote about the phone addiction I witnessed while in line at Starbucks. At that time I disconnected from the constant need to keep scrolling through endless updates, and navigate my day with my nose buried in my mobile device.
And, I was doing pretty good. I had finally resisted the urge to spew every one of my wayward thoughts on-line for all my “friends” to see. I was pretty sure that my hiatus from constant status updates, email checks, and tweets had its impact. I now had the strength and willpower to let all the negativity that clogged my newsfeed go. I had learned to run to God with my problems instead of Facebook.
I think it’s OK to download again, I said.
I can limit myself, I said.
I can make sure the negative things I see don’t affect me. I am sure they won’t alter the way I see and love people, I said.
I was wrong. Boy, was I wrong.
The realization that I was once again turning to all my “friends” again wasn’t in any way earth shattering. It all began with what almost became a simple “I’m feeling sorry for myself, and I’m all alone” status.
Until that voice said to me: “January, what are you doing? Do you really want to go there again? I’m here. Talk to me.”
In those days when you pray, I will listen. If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me. Jeremiah 29:12
If I call on my greatest friend, he will listen. But, I had stopped calling on Him lately. Instead, I was relying on every “like,” and comment of agreement to confirm that I wasn’t alone. That someone else was listening. However, with every comment, I realized…I was still alone. There are still some things all my “friends” just couldn’t possibly understand.
The truth is, I wish I could say I only had that one moment of Facebook weakness, but that’s not the case.
See, I had quickly gone back to the mindless scroll, refresh, scroll, refresh throughout my day just as quickly as I had deleted the whole mess in the first place. Until I had spent more time on the couch scrolling and refreshing than playing and engaging with my kids.
Until I began the frequent eye-rolling at posts that quickly turned to judgment and condemnation. The judgment and condemnation which is so unlike the example I am supposed to be of Christ.
Until my days were filled with gruesome, negative, and cruel news stories again, and nothing at all to lift my spirits.
Until I once again began my morning reading Facebook posts, and not my Bible.
Until I started telling all my “friends” about my problems, and not once talking to God.
I had done it again.
I certainly wasn’t practicing what I had preached months ago.
And, I had once again sunk into a wave of negativity, judgment, and whoa-is-meing that was not at all becoming.
Don’t even think about it; don’t go that way. Turn away and keep moving. Proverbs 4:15
This is not to say that Facebook is an evil thing that must be avoided at all costs. There are some inspiring posts and stories out there. Friends I follow just for this reason. I have family, former co-workers, and high school classmates that I enjoy catching up with, and then other “friends” whose witty posts give me a much needed laugh. And, who can enjoy a football game without a little friendly rivalry?
But, honestly…for me? The constant scroll, refresh, scroll, refresh is a trigger for me. A trigger for my insecurities. A trigger for my past to come back to haunt me. A trigger for my often critical view of the world and people, and one more reason for me to say that I don’t have time for God.
One more reason for me to think I am all alone. That all my “friends” don’t care, don’t understand, don’t get what I go through day in and day out, don’t….whatever. When really the friends that do care, are saved in my phone contact list. The ones whose emails, kids’ names, addresses, and hidden insecurities I actually do know. The ones who I can actually call, say “I miss you. I need you right now. I feel alone and I’m having a crummy day,” and know they will come running to first sulk with me, and then tell me to suck it up, because we all have those days.
And, then there is that other “friend.” The one who has no Facebook or Twitter account, yet knows exactly when I’m alone and need support-whether its 11 at night or at 4 in the morning. The friend I have in Him. The comfort and peace I can find in Him to which no scrolling and refreshing, or hundreds and hundreds of social media “friends” could ever compare.
What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear! What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer.
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What Do They See?
When my kids look at me, what do they see?
Do they see the things I tend to believe about myself? My self-hatred. My insecurities. The lies I allow myself to believe. Or, do they see a woman who believes she is wanted, cherished, loved, brave, and beautiful? Do they see the woman God sees?
When my kids witness me in action, what do they see?
A woman always questioning if God will show up, or one whose faith is unwavering? Do they witness the prayers of a weary mom, or do they see the control freak who thinks she has it all figured out?
When my kids hear me, what do they hear?
Do they hear words of encouragement for them and others, or do they hear groans of judgment and condemnation? Do they hear words of love for all those I encounter?
When my children watch me, what do they see?
Do they see me doing good things out of pure love, or for the praise of people? Do my choices reflect the ones I also want them to make? Do they learn about love or hate? Do they hear about being like Jesus, and think of me?
They are watching. They are learning from me. From you. From the world around us.
What am I teaching them?
And you yourself must be an example to them by doing good works of every kind. Let everything you do reflect the integrity and seriousness of your teaching. Titus 2:7
And, there are so many times I fail to do this. I have at times failed miserably as a parent. I have not always been a shining example.
But, as my children walk through the journey of parenthood. As they start to navigate the world as adults who are also trying to be an example, my hope is that they won’t remember the times I failed. The times I didn’t show love, grace, or Jesus in my home, or outside of it.
I hope they remember my integrity, compassion, and honesty.
That when they think of an example they remember what they watched, witnessed, heard, and saw.
Then, I hope they think of me.
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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