Not MY God

I happened to be in the company of a few dear ladies recently who started a discussion on a certain bible passage. I was kind of zoned out at the time because I had been running around like crazy, not taking the time to eat properly. It was a conversation that didn’t sit well with me, yet in my low blood sugar induced, mentally challenged state at the time I was unable to formulate a reply. This bothered me a little, since I want to be “instant in season and out of season”, and able to give a reason to those who would ask me about the hope I have within me.

Tonight, as I told hubby about it, the words that had eluded me at the time, came (sort of). I am often at my most eloquent when talking to the hubby-man, because he is such a willing listener. Plus, I monologue well. The only other time when I consider myself really eloquent is when I make great speeches in my head during those twilight moments before I drop off to sleep. They always seem profound at the time but since I never write them down, and since I cannot judge fairly in my sleepy haze, I cannot be sure.

Anyhoo…one of the ladies had recently watched a sermon on being lukewarm that moved her greatly. With great passion,  she described how the bible teacher in the video expounded on Revelation 3, you know, the passage that talks about the far too comfortable Laodicean church who thinks it is in need of nothing, but is in fact “poor, miserable, wretched, blind and naked”. The bible teacher mentioned that God tells the Laodiceans that because they are neither hot nor cold, but lukewarm, that he would spit (or vomit) them out of his mouth. He told his congregation that he fears that many of those listening will be going to hell because they are lukewarm, and comfortable that way, and encouraged them to return to their first love.

I know what I am about to say will fly in the face of popular theology. Bear with me, and read until the end if you can. I’m trying to make a point, and I might fail.  But I know what is in my heart and it is worthwhile to me to try and express it. So, have mercy. Please.

First of all, there was much in the video that was true and challenging, and I have to give the preacher his props. His zeal for God is challenging and inspiring. Still, any discussion like the one above makes my heart sink into my shoes. I want to say to people who hold to  this theology: Not MY God.  I want to rise up and defend the character of my God, whom I know to be the kindest, most long-suffering, most redemptive person there is. Frankly, the idea that He is so fickle that he would spit/vomit out and condemn anyone to hell simply because they are lukewarm turns him into the kind of stern, severe and exacting person that I struggle to be around.  

But it is IN THE BIBLE, you say. I hear you. I am a bible girl through and through. I love God’s word and I believe it is unerring, divinely inspired, and a source of life to those who would lay its words up into their hearts.  And I believe that there is such a place as hell, because God’s word tells us so.

So, let me explain.

Long ago, when I was a young christian, Revelation 3 used to strike fear into my heart, because I knew that there was always room for improvement when it came to how “on fire” I was for Jesus. Now, however, it is one of my favorite passages in the bible, because it contains one of the most tender calls for intimacy from the own mouth of God towards his people.  I am going to paraphrase it to say what I believe God is saying to his people. (Remember, this letter is written to a church, to God’s own people, and not to the world.)

The passage starts off with God telling his people that he wishes they were either hot or cold. But because they are lukewarm, he is going to spit them out of his mouth. He then tells them that they think they are rich and increased with goods and think they need nothing, yet they do not realise that they are wretched, miserable, poor, blind and naked. Because of this, he counsels them to buy gold tried in the fire (in other words to allow God to bring his dealings into their lives and let it refine them). With infinite tenderness, he tells them that his love towards them is the motivating factor for these strong words, and for his dealings in our lives. Be zealous therefore ( have warmth of feeling toward/ be moved with desire ), he tells them, and repent ( reconsider / think differently). Then follows the sweet words that I love, and that I think are the point of this whole passage: Behold, I stand at the door and knock…if any man hears me and opens up, I will come in to him and sup with him, and he with me.

The whole tone of this passage is redemptive.  God doesn’t mince words, he tells his people exactly where they are at, but he offers a way out, and tenderly invites them to intimacy. This is where I differ from the common interpretation of this scripture: I don’t believe that this passage is talking about God condemning people to hell. I believe that God is telling the Laodiceans: If you are going to continue being complacent and so comfortable in all the blessings that I have given you,  so that you sit back and forget how much you need me, then I am not going to be able to fellowship with you. I am going to have to pull back and bring my dealings into your life – and my advice to you is that you allow it to change you.

The preacher justified his position that the Laodiciens were not saved and were going to hell, because God said they were poor, miserable, blind…etc. He said those words do not describe christians. Yet David, the sweet psalmist of Israel, a man after God’s own heart, called himself  “poor and needy”. Jesus said, “Blessed are the poor in spirit…”  Paul said: “…when I am weak, then he is strong.” Being in a state where you are aware that in yourself you are nothing, that without God you are poor and needy, does not make you a hell-bound unbeliever. On the contrary. God himself says: “To this man will I look, to him who is of a poor and contrite spirit…” (Is 66:2) It is our neediness, even as christians,  that qualifies us to receive his grace on a daily basis.  When we cannot admit that we are in need, then his grace will be of no effect in our lives.  This is the one thing the Laodiceans lack.

I honestly believe the spitting out/vomiting issue has to do with fellowship/intimacy rather than salvation. God cannot fellowship, his grace cannot flow in the life of a lukewarm christian. He will have to allow them to go through trials until they see how desperately they are in need of him. This is a theme that recurs throughout the bible. There are countless instances where God allows his wayward people to go through the fire in order to bring them to repentance. One of my favorites is the account of Homer, Hosea’s unfaithful wife, who is a type of the unfaithful church of God. (Read how God deals with her in Hosea 2. It is precious. Did you know that the words “Baali” means “my master”, but the word “Ishi” means, my “husband/lover”?) Still, God assures us that when we go through the fire, it will not harm us, and he will be with us. (Is 43: 2) 

 I would perhaps, find it easier to follow this preacher’s interpretation of this scripture if I believed you could lose your salvation. But how can you lose by your works, something that you were given as a completely unearned gift of grace? It doesn’t make sense.

More so, if you look at God’s character. Which is the very reason I am sitting here so furiously typing away at my keyboard, knowing full well that I am saying controversial things that might make waves for me both within and without the blog world.

Not MY God.

What father will throw his kid into a fiery pit simply because he has a drug addiction and is enslaved to his passions, acting ‘lukewarm’ towards his father as a result? Tough love…yeah…a father might resort to that. With a view to redemption. My heavenly father might use some tough love on his children too, but in the end it is still love, and it is still with an end goal in mind. Redemption. Restoration. Fellowship. Sitting down to a meal together.

There is no-one sweeter and kinder and more tender than my God. He, who created us as fathers and mothers, after his own image, will never abandon his own children. Why do we know instinctively that it goes completely against the grain of any human father’s heart, yet we are so quick to attribute that kind of heartlessness to our father God?  He says he will never leave us or forsake us. He says that we are engraved on the palms of his hands. In Isaiah 66 he says he will comfort his people as a mother comforts her children.

Not MY God.

It irks me, that anyone would tarnish his great love and his character like that. It frustrates me that people come to God out of fear thanks to interpretations of passages like these, and since they view him as a demanding taskmaster who requires what we cannot give (in our own strength, remember, it is all by grace), they can never fully invite him into the depths of their hearts. Fear is never a precursor to intimacy.

Rom 2:4… do you despise the riches of His kindness, and the forbearance and long-suffering, not knowing that the kindness of God leads you to repentance?

 

 

In which people look at me quizically (again)

I should be packing. Really. Tomorrow morning we are hopping in the van for a four hour trip to South Carolina for the long-awaited and oh-so-exciting wedding of one of my firstest and bestest friends in the United States.

I will be singing the song that she picked for me to sing at her wedding…oh, about five years ago when her hubby-to-be wasn’t even a blip on the horison. The same song that I was singing at the top of my lungs (well, not really, but it was ‘hearable’) whilst loading groceries into the van at Walmart today.

Some passerby made flashed me a big smile and said: “Thank you.” I’m still puzzled at what he meant. Thank you for singing? Or did did it have something to do the words: Let me look upon your beauty, as if it were the first time I’d seen it…

Hmmm.

I was at a store today looking for something to wear at the wedding and left empty-handed. I approached the exit doors at an angle, since I had just hung up a dress against the wall near the exit. The doors wouldn’t budge. Uh -oh. I tracked back into the store again and approached the doors from the correct angle this time, fully expecting them to slide open. No such luck. So I jumped up and down in my place a few times.

I do not weigh a whole lot and I have been embarrassed in the past by doors that do not register my approach. I always get a mild anxiety attack anticipating a repeat of that scenario, and wondered exactly what kind of theatrics I would have to perform in order to coax the doors into realising that I am actually there, wanting to go out, thankyouverymuch.

So I felt this consternation rising withing me, as I flashed helpless looks towards the lady at the cash register and an older man sitting in a nearby chair. Both were watching me quizically. I half wondered why the man wouldn’t just act the gentleman and walk up to the door so his weight could cause it to swing open.

“How do you open these doors? ” I asked. “They are not working”.

This is when the man piped up. “Just push it.”

Ahem.

Oh, I could have died. I laughed all the way to my car, but I was as red as a beetroot too. Swiss cheese brain, I tell ya.

This could go down as an almost-most-embarrassing moment. I have a few  (much) worse stories, LOL. (You’re welcome to share yours if you want to make me feel better. )

 

Cracking open the door

I went through a dry spell there for a while. I noticed that I seemed to be going through the motions a bit as far as my walk with God was concerned, and that reading my bible or spending time in worship had lost its lustre. There’s nothing like being in the presence of God, where he whispers sweet things to your heart and you discover treasures in his word. In his presence is fullness of joy…

I started missing being in that place and as I lay on my bed one night,  rediscovering my ipod and listening to old favorites, I could feel the Holy Spirit gently tugging at my heart. I’m all for being straight-up with God and telling it to him as it is, and so I told him that my heart was dull and I didn’t know how to fix it. I wasn’t even sure that I really wanted to.

Then my favorite worship song started to play:

…wonderful Saviour, my heart will know your worth,
so I will embrace you always, as I walk this earth…

Be blessed, be loved, be lifted high
Be treasured here, be glorified
I owe my life to you my king
Here I am…                                                                                                                            

I was undone, and as the tears started to roll, I saw a glimpse of my own heart. It’s broken. It hurts. I had been protecting myself from the pain and vulnerability of  having raw, exposed grief.

It is precious how generously Jesus met me as I opened the door of this battered heart of mine. I cracked it open just a little, but he crammed as much of his tender compassion and soothing peace in as possible. I know that he will fill all the room I make for him, and so I aim to be as real and as open as I can. I want to swing that door open wide.

It does expose the pain, but in him there is ultimately no sorrow, only a glorious peace. In him I can step into eternity for a moment and see that all is well, all will be well.

In his presence is fullness of joy.

 

Covet

I know what I’d go out to buy right now if I had the …ahem….clearance from hubby. (That could be construed as a hint, Hubs.) I’d go and get me a Wii Fit.

I had a crazy moment at school today where I told my sixth graders I felt like running. One of the sweet little things suggested I switch shoes with her, and another girl challenged me to a race. I don’t know what got in to me…had I forgotten that I always came in first in races at school? As in…first from the rear?

So we ran. I had only gone a few yards when I realized my mistake. The other girl sailed ahead of me…and she wasn’t even going as fast as she could. Even worse, I could feel my hamstrings stretching as I tried to take big strides.

Sigh. I won’t tell you about the long-jump dare where I fell flat on my face. Literally. I got off the ground surrounded by concerned little sixth graders dusting me off and saying things like: Are you sure you are alright?…That was spectacular…You made this kind of roll… 

I am a teeny bit sore today. This old bod needs a major overhaul. It’s one thing to be nearing my mid-forties, quite another to feel like it. I’m off to the grocery store. You can bet that I will be pricing the Wii Fit while I am there.  :-)

 

Swiss cheese brain and the end of things

I realised today why I don’t blog anymore. I have swiss cheese brain. You know…a holey brain as opposed to a wholly brain (or a holy brain). 

 I had so many bloggable moments today. My students made hillarious comments that should have been recorded for use in the school newspaper. Sigh. My boys were their cute/wise/quirky/babbly selves and we had a sweet conversation in the car on the way home today. You know, the kind of conversation where the teenager even switches off his ipod to listen and comment.

All gone. I have a holey brain that allows everything to run out as water through a sieve.

I wonder if it is delayed stress, or having too much to think about, or (gasp) old age, but today as we arrived home I went into my bedroom and shut the door and tried to REMEMBER something the boy had said. I thought at the time…Hmmm, neat blog topic, until the conversation went elsewhere and my mind went with it. I even asked Jesus to help me remember, which I did, much later.

The boy made a random passing comment about how people’s looks don’t change even as they get older. They are always recognizable. It made me think…yes, once you know a person’s features you can pick them out in a photo, even if you skip ahead or skip back many years. But when all you have is a baby picture, it is not quite so easy.

I remembered how, when Jenna was a baby, I had a very sketchy idea of what she was going to look like. (And boy, was I curious to find out :-) .) But as she matured, I could go back and look at her baby pictures and recognise the chubby cheeks, the rosebud mouth, those gorgeous eyebrows, and see HER. Same thing with the boys.

I considered the thought that what God is doing in my life seems to be like my little Jenna’s baby face. Right now the picture is a vague blueprint, and it will take time to see how everything plays out. At the end, when the all things are complete, I will be able to trace my way back in time to see that even at the beginning of things, God knew what the end result would be. He knows the plans he has for me, plans to prosper me and give me an expected end (Jeremiah 28? too lazy to look it up).

I’ll end this with a quote from my Facebook status. Sorry to repeat it for those of you who have read it already. What can I say? My holey brain can’t think of anything more to say.

 I am so grateful that Jesus knows the end from the beginning. James 5:11 tells us that at the end of all our struggles, God’s tender mercy and compassion will be abundantly evident. (Heck, if we can see his goodness even in MIDDLE of our trials, how much more gloriously evident will it be when it all comes together at the end?) EVERYTHING God does in our lives is redemptive.

G’night all!!!

 

Oh happy/crappy day…

I am not a happy camper today.  I have suspected for a while that I am due to crash soon, and it happened last night after bible school. Our friend Holland was showing us the pictures of their sweet new baby Zoey on some gadget that he was carrying around. (Hahaha, Holland, I know it was not a phone, but I am oblivious to gadgets. To me they are all ‘watchamacallits’ belonging to a generation younger than I. I am resisting hubby’s suggestions to buy a phone with a built-in gps. Why rely on a satellite to direct you when it’ so much more fun finding – or losing – your own way? )

I looked at that sweet little baby face, so similar to that of Zoey’s older brother and Jenna’s best buddy Joseph’s, and I had a flash back to a time when Joseph was little and I was pregnant with Jenna and the world seemed so simple and uncomplicated.

I also remembered the phone call I got from an exuberant Sarah when I was in South Africa to inform me that the doctors had made a mistake,  and that the little boy she was due to deliver a month from then was in fact a girl! Having a little girl was something Holland and Sarah had both hoped for, and I think Jenna had a lot to do with that.

Jenna was the quintessential little princess and Sarah enjoyed her girliness almost as much as I did. It was Sarah who had encouraged me to stop feeling guilty about my desire to dress Jenna in gorgeous clothes. She had told me that I should have fun indulging Jenna’s girliness while the muffiny would still let me! (Thanks for that advice, Sarah. I am glad I listened.)

Anyhow…rabbit trails…we were looking so forward to having baby Emma in Jenna’s life. Jenna gave a big smile when I told her that Joseph was going to have a baby sister, and I am grateful that we were able to tell her the news before she went to heaven.  Jenna would have been such a sweet little ‘mother-hen’ over Emma…sigh. Jenna went to heaven exactly a week after Sarah’s phone call, and never met baby Emma.

Now Emma is little more than a year old and baby Zoey has made her appearance.  I am soooooo glad for Holland and Sarah’s sake…really. I don’t begrudge them their two little girls a bit. But seeing that picture last night made me miss MINE. As I looked at Zoeys’ picture I was aware that two of my friends from church were checking me out. It was that same surreptitiously scrutinous look that sometimes registers on my radar screen whenever I hold a baby on my hip or stoop down to chat to a little toddler. Did my face betray something?

I excused myself (mumbling something about going to find my hubby) and sneaked into the dark sanctuary to grab a tissue and try to compose myself.  It didn’t work. I have been pretty composed up until this point. Last night was the first time I really lost it in public.  I didn’t want Holland to see me cry though, because I really am so happy for him and Sarah and I didn’t want my pain to dampen their joy.

I hung back not wanting to be seen with my red splotchy face. New tears kept coming though. Hiding is not my strong suit,  so I decided to brave the looks and ‘be real’ and walked back into the bible school where everyone was chatting. I sat down and buried my head on a friend’s shoulder and cried.  I felt so vulnerable as the room grew quiet, and as I heard whispered questions and answers…what’s wrong?…ohhhh…the baby.

I have been a veritable fountain of tears since.  As I write this, red splotchy face and all, one of my boys is reading over my shoulder, the hubby is giving me tender looks, and another boy is tiptoeing around after I gave him an over-the-top response to his request to use the computer. (For which I apologised.) I’m out of sorts today, but I know enough to know that I will not be out of sorts forever. An hour or seven, or a day or two from now I will be fine again. Joy comes in the morning.

Can I complain a bit though?  Over and above missing Jenna, life is just stressful right now. Hubby totalled his car and while he searches for a replacement, we are down to one car. Driving one another to work and home and errands so that the other can use the car is time consuming for both of us.

My washing machine broke this weekend and laundry is piling up. Going to a laundromat is time-consuming too and besides, last time I went there little miss Jenna was there to charm everybody.  The person who blessed us by providing a cleaning lady for me once a week cannot do it anymore and my house is in bad shape. The floors have not been mopped in two weeks….ugh.

We are out of toilet paper (a trip to the grocery store awaits) and one of the boys clogged the toilet up with paper towels this morning. I had to clean a poopy toilet overflow earlier this morning.

My computer is dead and I have no access to any of the planning that I did for the rest of the year. Since I did the planning in February, I don’t remember anymore what I had done and I will need to re-do it all if the computer can’t get fixed.  I have an extremely busy weekend coming up with a special speaker at church and school commitments.

Complaining over. Got that off my chest. Tomorrow night I will be playing for the school faculty against the girls basketball team.  Have I mentioned that I am from South Africa and that we don’t really play much basketball over there? Or that the closest sport we had to basketball was netball and that it was compulsory and I dreaded it sucked at it in school? Have I mentioned that I don’t have any ball-sense and that I doubt I could bounce a ball even once and keep up with it? LOL! It is going to be a hoot! I have a speech rehearsed in my brain which I wish I could share with the spectators before taking the field. It goes something like: “It takes a special kind of bravery to knowingly make a complete and utter fool of yourself. Henceforth, dear people, I will most probably be known as Sumi The Bravest Person Ever.”

Since I am on hubby’s laptop and the boy still wants to use it, I am not going to edit this post like i normally do. Love to you all…

 

Please pray for baby Stellan…

Stellan has been in SVT (which is an abnormally rapid heart beat) for a week now, and doctors have been unable to break him out of it. His mama has been keeping us updated on her blog and she says today is his worst day yet. His heart is getting tired. Please join me in praying for him!

My own pain in missing Jenna has made me so sensitive to the suffering parents go through when their children are fighting for their lives, and right now my heart is heavy for Jen’s sake. She is exhausted. She has been on a huge emotional roller coaster for the past week. And her baby is not doing well at all.

As for me, I am feeling a bit fragile. I know that God is sovereign and that he can bring incredible beauty out of something that looks like a heap of ashes. I have seen it. And I know that if Jen had to join this exclusive ‘club’ that no-one wants to belong to, that God will give her songs in the night too and make something beautiful through her pain. I know it. But I just want that precious cutie pie boy to live and I want for his mama’s testimony to be that God is a healer. Which I know that he is.

My story is a miracle too…to have such peace in the midst of such a loss,  to be able to say it is well with my soul when the most precious thing in your life is ripped from you…it is a true miracle of God’s grace. Jesus has been faithful and generous to me and I acknowledge that. Still Jesus, I’m asking for the other kind of miracle for Stellan, please.

 

Words…

Fighting ~ a cold. A very mild one.

Noticing ~ all the little things that are neglected around here, that I never have time for.

Drooling ~ Over a new blog look that I don’t have the savvy to implement.

Wishing ~ for a nice haircut with highlights.

Praying about ~ adding English to my teaching schedule next year. Could be fun. Could also be wayyyy too much work.

Praying for ~ Stellan and Kristy,

Listening ~ to Isa Couvertier. The girl has heart.

Curious ~ about the monster that sent the 8th graders running last week. I was brave. I put a quarter next to it and took a picture:

Sharing ~ a poem my dad wrote and emailed me: 

        A year has passed, a year of pain

        Is it all in vain?

        Jenna’s limp and lifeless body on my lap

        I kissed her forehead and gave her back.

        Jesus, why allow this to be?

        Tonight he revealed this to me:

        “The pain you feel is what you share of

        My life I gave for you and her.”

        Lord, let it be.

        I am content in Thee.

       

        Leon 23 March 2009. 00h25

Daddy, I have no words…

 

late night post by a tired Sumi

Ok, so I have been avoiding my blog. Which is absolutely out of character for me. It is as if my words got lost somewhere in the crazy hectic weeks after my mom and sister left. Perhaps if I didn’t write about the fact that it is now longer than a year since Jenna left us, it wouldn’t be so. Or if I ignore the fact that I never really took the time just to sit and miss her on the days preceding the 17th, I can pretend that time hasn’t marched on as resolutely as it had. I can freeze myself in a bubble and take myself back to almost-a-month ago and feel like I am doing Jenna justice by really missing her. Sometime. When I get the time.

Of course, my little muffin doesn’t need me to be sad and miss her to know that I love her, and my hubby doesn’t quite get my angst either. He thinks I am silly because I WANT to take the time to be sad. (He’s being really practical, and he is right, of course…umm…what’s the point? Jenna is happy, and we are really doing OK.) Still, part of me wants to get sentimental and sad because somehow, strangely, it makes the memories sharper and brings Jenna closer. I have been quite detached lately.  Underneath it all though, there has been an edginess to me, a lot of emotion boiling right underneath the surface.

I think I am also ‘emo’ because I am just. so. tired. Spring break can’t come soon enough, as far as I am concerned. I can see it in my students too – we are all drooping right now. (Don’t get me on to my soapbox rant about the year round schooling I grew up with in South Africa, compared to the system here…)

Tiredness aside, I am really doing quite well. Every now and then (just when I need it) something encouraging happens to show me that what I am doing at the school is not in vain. This week, my bible girls asked such sweet questions in their journals and showed some real understanding of the scriptures which blessed me. I started out the year with such high hopes and I have failed to live up to my own ideas of what I wanted to accomplish in that class. Nevertheless, I thought to myself that if I can leave them this year with simply the knowledge that whatever happens, God is on their side and rooting for them and always has their best interest at heart, I have left them with something  substantial.

As I thought about that, I realised that in my own life, miraculously, I really understand that everything God does is good, perfect, and above all redemptive. I KNOW that the thoughts he has towards me are thoughts for good and not for evil. How I got to this point I do not know. But I do not believe it is possible to encounter Jesus without encountering his goodness, and I have encountered him enough to know that he is altogether lovely and abundantly merciful and kind. Oh, how full my heart is towards him tonight. I can say with David: “This one thing I know: God is for me.”

Other snippets about my life (for you, ma, because I know you’d want to know…   ) 

The two younger boys are feverish and throwing up and will have to miss out on the birthday party of the year. You know…the one where they were going to be picked up at my house in a limo and be taken to a hotel where they were going to spend the night playing video games and scarfing (instead of barfing) pizza and swimming in the indoor pool. It sucks.

I have just finished reading Booker T Washington’s autobiography. (He reminds me of ouma, ma.) Who said I was never interested in History? Huh? Huh?

The school newspaper is coming out again soon. That means I am going to fall off the face of the earth for a few days…again. Hubby won’t like it. I am really having a hard time juggling this journalism class. It is too big and there is a lot of things happening at once. I need some wisdom there! On top of the school newspaper, I have committed to work on a yearbook for the school. Oi vey!

The weather here is luvverly. My friend Heather says it reminds her of African weather and it does. I have a serious dose of spring fever. If my kiddos weren’t sick we’d be traipsing all over the countryside enjoying the outdoors.

Ok…after this very random late night post…g’night all! Thanks for still being here, even though I have been such a slacker with my blogging!

 

Quick hello (warning: picture heavy post)

Yup, we are still here. My mom and sister (did I mention that she came along as a surprise?) are back in South Africa already and I have been playing catch-up with all the neglected school work. No time to blog, really. I did a half-completed photo blog on our visit to the cemetery on Jenna’s heaven day. I will merge it with this post and add it at the tail end.

I MARVEL at the goodness of God. Something incredible is happening in my life, a dream I have given up on a long long time ago, is unfolding right before my eyes. It is too fragile and fresh to share here right now, but tonight I can say with everything inside me: nothing is impossible with God.  The thing that always surprises me when God steps onto the scene, is how EASILY and simply everything works out. No sweat. Just me standing back in awe, knowing that God has done in a few short weeks something that I couldn’t do for twenty long years. I just love him for it tonight.

Today a year ago we were learning to live without Jenna. Amazingly, we had times of laughter between the tears. I end off with two pictures taken that day, and will copy and paste my unpublished blog entry about Jenna’s heaven day afterwards.

Oh…and before I go….hubby has this amazing thing to say that he has promised he would put on my blog. It’s been a while now, and I thought perhaps you all could help me beg  plead pressurize encourage him to post it. :-) It is a sweet little revelation about Jenna that I think will bless others as it has blessed me.

Fun with the cousins…

 

 

Jenna’s heaven day was a precious day.  My bible class and I enjoyed some of Jenna’s favorite snacks, and the school purchased an oak tree to plant in Jenna’s honor. We stood around the tree holding hands while the pastor prayed, and then released some pink balloons on which we had written some love notes for Jenna. When we finished some 6th graders shuffled up carrying a gorgeous memory box that they had made for Jenna. It was soooooo sweet. I’ll post a picture, when I have taken it.

We went to the cemetery after school, and had some more Jenna snacks while the kids played.

Our friends Holland and Sarah…

This last picture is of a Valentine’s card that Joseph had made for Jenna last year. His mom had saved it until now to open it. The words made us cry. Jenna and Joseph were the bestest friends ever.

I don’t know how anyone can walk through this without Jesus. His wonderful peace and grace is a constant blessing. What a good God we serve!

I want to thank all of you, my sweet bloggy friends, for all the precious comments you left on my last post. You are all amazing and I appreciate you so much! May Jesus give you all a big hug from me…y’all deserve one.