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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Thanking God for $6 Promise
As for me, I call to God, and the Lord saves me. Evening, morning, and noon I cry out in distress and he hears my voice. Psalm 55:16-17
There have been an abundance of pleadings with God here since school has started. These have ranged from “God, please give us the strength to endure these mornings.” “God, please help us to help him.” “God, come on, now! Can a girl get a break? Just one morning please?”
Evening, morning, and noon I prayed for something that would help us ease the heartbroken and frustrating mornings we were having. I had even prayed for strength to accept that this phase may not end at all.
Sometimes, however, answers come from those he places in our lives. See, I am blessed with a family and friends who have sought to understand the differences in our son that are not apparent by just looking at him. I am blessed with co-workers who understand how hard it can be to put on the “game face” when 30 minutes before you were listening to or wrestling with a screaming child.
While some advice has just not worked with our son, or didn’t apply to our situation, some of it has been an answer to prayer.
“Maybe a visual chart would work? You could give stars for each day he doesn’t cry, and after so many give him a prize.”
Yes, he is visual, actually. To a fault, really. Only because he has to see and know exactly what is planned and for how many days.
Bribery, too? Oh, yeah…I am NOT above that!
Could this be the answer to our prayers? Not some earth shattering, and booming voice from above, but just a mom sharing valuable advice with another. A person sent by Him to walk alongside me.
Fools think their own way is right, but the wise listen to others. Proverbs 12:15
God’s intention was for us to share in each other’s burdens, so why would he not send wisdom to us through these people? Unfortunately, it is when we try to handle these things on our own, that we forget about the people He has strategically placed into our lives.
When we ignore the wisdom of a friend because we think we have it all handled.
So, I listened. And with the help of family we came up with a reward system. If our little guy could get through the week, get on the bus without screaming, or yelling “I don’t want to go!” Grandma would give him $6. $6 he is reserving for a Lego set.
It worked.
For a couple of days. But, hey! It worked!
And, if I look back…I only asked for a break. One morning, and I got two of them…two out of the 30 plus we have endured. This. These two days…that is a break!
Even thought we only got a two day reprieve, that doesn’t mean He wasn’t listening, or that I shouldn’t listen to the ones He has sent to me. To their wisdom. Their support. Their willingness to help offer a solution. To provide the answer to prayer I have been looking for.
Therefore, we never stop thanking God that when we received his message from us, you didn’t think of our words as mere human ideas. You accepted what we said as the very word of God. 1 Thessalonians 2:13
Maybe his answer to prayer isn’t a multicolored visual chart that solves all your problems. Maybe it’s not the promise of money to pay all your bills, as your reward for being faithful. And maybe the answer only gets you through a couple days.
Maybe it is simply God sending someone to share our burdens with us. To not fix it all, but to offer support and guidance through it all. To not have all the answers, or $6 to offer, but to offer wisdom, and a listening ear.
Yes, God’s gift. His answers to prayer may be the person standing right in front of you. Accept it. Cherish it. And be thankful for his promises. Even the $6 ones.
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The End of My Rope
I’ve tried everything and nothing helps. I’m at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Romans 7:24
Recently my parents transformed their wooden bench swing into two wooden seated rope swings. Before they moved from the home in which we spent many years, my brother, son and I enjoyed another rope swing that adorned an old tree in the front yard. What I recall vividly about each of these swings is the tightly woven knot at the bottom of each seat, and the shredded pieces of rope that sat frayed at the end of each of those knots.
The pieces of rope I feel I am hanging on lately.
It’s the second Tuesday of the month. Every other Tuesday our bus driver picks apples at his orchard in the county in which we live. Every other Tuesday we have a substitute bus driver. Every other Tuesday I shake my head “no” at this new bus driver, and take my youngest to school.
But, on this Tuesday, that little boy wouldn’t let me leave, and I walked out in tears.
God, I just can’t do this anymore. I am at the end of my rope, here!
And, by end of the rope, I meant, I was no longer holding on to the knot. Instead, I am holding on to the slowly fraying pieces at the end of that knot.
Hanging on the frayed end of helplessness.
Hanging on the frayed end of desperation.
At the end of my last strand of heartache.
Until I remember that knot. The knot that keeps me from slipping off those frayed ends. The knot that I can hold onto in the midst of my helplessness, despair, and heartache.
The answer, thank God, is that Jesus can, and does. Romans 7:25
Yes, that knot. The one right before all those frayed ends, is Jesus. God. His strength. The knot he wants me to cling to daily before I get weary enough to slip off the end.
So, then why do I continue to find myself desperately hanging onto those slippery ends? Because I go through each day trying to climb those ropes in my own strength.
How can I (or we) get this child to be less afraid to go to school?
What can I (or we) do to calm his fears?
How do I (or we) stand up and fight for what he needs?
And, so there lies the problem.
I can’t. We can’t. We can’t do anything alone. So, God allows me to slip off that knot until I finally call out to him. God allows us to get to the point where we are clinging to the frayed pieces of our messes. He doesn’t give us only what we can handle, but more.
He gives us struggles so that we will stop telling ourselves that we know how to solve all of our problems. We have got it all covered, or we can tackle our heartache. He continues to break us, so we have nothing left to do but hold on to the knots that holds our frayed messes together.
Until we finally start clinging to the frayed strands of our lives and cling to Him. The one who will solve our problems. Heal our hearts. Comfort us in despair.
The knot that will clean up this frayed mess. The knot holding this frayed mommy together each day.
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You May Not Feel it Now, but You Are a Good Mommy!
It’s no secret around here what our mornings have looked and sounded like lately. Our little guy started school a little over a month ago, and while he is in the same building he has been in for 2 years now, this year’s transition to kindergarten has not been easy. A new teacher, a new routine, and sometimes no warning of what to expect have meant that our mornings have not gone smoothly at all.
What is for most an uneventful trip to the bus stop, has become a screaming ordeal for us.
The anxiety of what the school day could bring that our little boy may not have prepared for, has him panicked and worried before he even gets out the door each morning. These mornings have been filled with screams of terror, and cries of worry. And not just from the five-year old.
“You want to cry now, too. Don’t you?” This is what my husband asks as we complete our new morning routine.
And, yes. He is right. While I may have been able to control the convulsing sobs I wanted to emit at the bus stop, I am having a harder time controlling them now.
All I want to do in this moment is close my closet door, lay on the floor, and weep.
Why?
Because on these mornings, I don’t know how to help this son of mine. Because on these mornings, honestly? I just want a kid that is “normal.” One whose autism doesn’t have his mom feeling utterly useless.
Because, sometimes….I wonder if God gave him to the right Mommy.
For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways and my thoughts are higher than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:9
And, I know all this. I know this is all part of his plan. His will for my life. He certainly knew exactly what he was doing when He placed this child in my life.
But, it doesn’t mean I don’t feel utterly useless, and a little less equipped to be this kid’s Mommy.
We all feel like this as parents a little more than we want to admit. In all honesty, I am not quite sure there are too many moments along this journey through parenthood that I have not felt useless, completely clueless, and dumbfounded. Even though I began my journey at the age of 19, 17 years later, I am not anymore secure in my ability to parent than I was as an unwed, teenage mother.
I don’t have all the answers.
I am completely clueless.
I feel utterly useless.
I question whether God gave these kids to the right Mommy. I even question a co-workers judgment as she reassures me that “Yes, you are doing the right thing. You are a good Mommy.”
Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland. Isaiah 43:19
Do you not see it, January? When you think you are doing it all wrong, I have you on the right paths? I will wipe those tears and assure you that you are a good Mommy, my child.
Do you not see it, Mom?
Do you not see it, Dad?
Have you never heard? Have you never understood? No one can measure the depth of his understanding. He gives power to the weak and strength to the powerless. Isaiah 40:28,29
Do you not see it?
The moments we want to lay on the closet floor and weep, he wipes our tears and feels our sorrows with us.
The moments when we don’t know how to reach our kids. How to be an understanding parent. How to parent at all. He comes in and gives us the strength and power to get through the next phase of childhood.
He makes a path for us when we see none.
And, He gives us the power to get off the floor, while gently whispering:
“You may not feel like it now, my child. But, you are doing the right thing. You are a good Mommy.”
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He Knows My Name
I have called you by name, you are mine. Isaiah 43:1
Those who know me well also know how much I frequent the local Starbucks. So much so, that not only do they have my drink memorized and ready before I get in line to pay, I am also on a first name basis with most of the baristas. Occasionally, someone does get the name wrong, or decides to crack a-not-so-extraordinary-anymore joke. Take for instance, the trip I made just the other day. I stood in line, chatted up my usual friendly barista, the one who has even given my drink its own special name, picked up my cup, to discover….he had also written “August” on my beloved cup.
Over my 36 years, I have learned to shake off most of these jokes. I have also had many names in those years. My maiden name (which had some jokes of it’s own!). The last name I carried during my first marriage. My current name. Some I can’t really repeat. All the names I was called in an attempt to make fun of my first name-April, Winter, Christmas, even Jupiter. And, I have even been called January Jones on occasion. Sometimes, having a name like mine has been irritating, embarrassing, and for the longest time, I used to shorten it on those cups just so I wouldn’t have to answer all the questions that were sure to come, or the jokes that followed shortly after.
While the world may identify me by my birth name, my married name, or the name used to crack those oh-so-not-orginal calendar jokes, the devil also has a few names for me as well.
He calls me January the sinner.
January the failure.
January the unloved.
He says I am forgotten, not worthy, and broken.
He says I am nothing. Too scared. Too little. Too damaged. Too insignificant.
He fills me with doubt, shame and guilt, and he wants me to base my identity on the things for which I have been forgiven. He knows just what to call me to make me question God. To question myself. To send me back to the days filled with loneliness, despair, and worry.
Yes, the world sometimes knows my name, and the devil insists on reminding me of my old ones, but God? He knows my true name. He identifies me in a different way. While the world may get it wrong, or just plain not get it (Your name is really, January???), God never gets it wrong.
He calls me January the redeemed.
He calls me His masterpiece.
He says I am January the overcomer.
January, who is never lonely.
He says I am valued. Strong. Courageous. Able to accomplish anything through Him.
January, His worthy and beautiful daughter. The one He loves as His own.
Even when those around me may call me by a different name, and may consider this name to be the only identity I possess, all I have to do is seek God and find that my true identity is much more than the earthly name I have been given. Much more than the one the world gives me. Much more than the one the devil hopes I remember.
God reminds me, that while my name may be January, my identity goes far beyond my unique and sometimes ridiculed name. My identity is in Christ, and I am a child of God. A name more special and honorable than the one written on a Starbucks cup.
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He Will Protect When I Can’t
The Lord keeps you from all harm and watches over your life. The Lord keeps watch over you as you come and go. Psalm 121:7-8
“I don’t want to go to school! I.DON’T.WANT.TO.GO.TO.SCHOOL!
Since school began two weeks ago, this has been the wail of our little boy each morning. In the last two weeks we have mulled over and tried to eliminate any possible triggers. No substitute bus driver this morning. No pesky buttons on his pants. He is fed. He has slept pretty good. His class consists of kids and an aide with whom he is familiar. Everything we can control in his environment we have managed to, so what is the deal?
“I.DON’T.WANT.TO.GO.TO.SCHOOL!”
The wails continue as he stands at the bus stop, jaws clenched, arms crossed, grunts and wails on full display for all the other parents to see. To observe as the small child steps on the bus he seems to hate, stomps his feet, and screams at his parents one last time:
“I.DON’T.WANT.TO.GO.TO.SCHOOL!”
What’s the deal? In our effort to control our environment and routine to keep our little boy happy, what have we missed? How does the little boy who can’t wait to pull out his folder and have me read about his day each afternoon, turn into this each morning?
The Lord rescues them when they are in trouble. He gives them prosperity in the land and rescues them from their enemies. Psalm 41:1,2
“Mommy, Hunter said Tommy (names have been changed to protect the not so innocent) hits him and laughs at him at recess. And, Susie said she thinks he is annoying because he cries all the time.”
What’s the deal?
Well, it’s the one I feared would surface at some point. The deal that says-your son is different. He has special needs. He doesn’t operate in the same way. He can’t tolerate changes in the same way.
The deal that I hoped I’d never have to cash in. The moment when my little boy would be considered an outcast.
The moment when the differences meant to enhance the school’s push for “inclusion,” in fact exclude him.
The moment when his needs and quirks would be considered weird and worthy of eye rolls and taunts from his peers.
The moment when a parent wants to raise a fist, shake a few fingers, and fight-anyone who even dares to mess with their children.
The Lord protects those of child-like faith. Psalm 116:6
Which means that I can put down my drawn fists. Put my pointing fingers away, because He has suited up for this fight.
As much as I want to climb on that bus and ride to school with my little boy. As much as I want to stand beside him on the playground to ensure no one gets past this Mama Bear, I know I can’t protect my little boy every moment of every day.
Instead, I have to let God handle that. I have to allow Him to stand in and protect my little boy from harm when Mama Bear cannot. Remain confident in the promise that Hunter is more precious to Him than two sparrows. Trusting that although I can’t be there for him day after day, week after week, and each and every new year, He will be. Standing in the gap for the mom ready to pounce and point a finger at the Tommys and Susies at any given moment.
None of your opponents will be able to reply or refute you; not a hair of your head will perish. Luke 21:15,18
God has certainly given Hunter exactly what he needs each year to navigate changes, new routines, and yes, even his quirks and differences. Whether it has been the same teacher each year, a bus driver who also happens to be the gym teacher, or the familiarity of a sweet and adoring friend, God ensures that the right people are placed into my son’s life. That they are placed there to protect the very hairs on his curly, brown head. To protect him from the Tommys and Susies. From the eye rolls and taunts.
To stand in the gap of this Mama Bear.
To protect a quirky and different little boy, when she cannot.
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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