Dependence Comes First And Always

What a celebration! It may look different this year, but we gather this weekend with food, fireworks, friends, and family to honor the very beginning of our country. 

The thirteen American colonies became independent states united together but no longer under British rule. In order to achieve that independence, we had to believe it was possible to exist without the help of a long established country to support us. We would be self governing and self reliant. Moving forward on our own and responsible to no one. Isn’t that how independence works?

No, it really isn’t. 

We all know that you can’t be independent without first being dependent on someone or something. It is in that space where you grow and learn so that you can be self-sufficient. Bryce and I take our responsibility as parents very seriously. We want our children to not only be responsible adults but also to be kind, loving, and helpful. 

I remember our son, Eli, as a two year old.  He was adorable, but he needed help with everything. He even got his head stuck between a couch and a wall. How does that even happen? I remember that moment well as he yelled, “Me ‘tuck! Me ‘tuck!” over and over again until we released him from his self imposed captivity. But he needed us. All our kids did at that stage. As they scrambled all around the house, we had to feed, protect and care for them or they wouldn’t survive. They were dependent on us for the basic necessities of life but they also needed our consistent teaching to learn how to become self-sufficient. We experienced daily what it felt like to have someone depend on us. It was exhausting. 

Even if you don’t have kids, I’m sure you have experienced this with someone in your life. We did with Grandma. She was dependent on us while we lived with her for the last 7 years of her life. And you know what, our kids needed their Grandma Great too. She showed them what it meant to age with dignity and taught them how to lovingly respect others. Grandma loved holidays and especially Independence Day when she could admire our flag. 

Grandma’s 97th Fourth of July

And even now while we are now parenting young adults, there is an ebb and flow of dependence intertwined with independence. Some days our children need us and some days they don’t. As parents, we help our children get established so they can be independent. But have you ever thought about what it means to be independent? If we are honest with ourselves, we are never fully self-reliant. We would die angry and alone, but that’s not what God created us to be. 

For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. - Romans 12:4-5

Paul reminds us in Romans, of the beauty found in our diversity and unity as believers. God created us to be in relationship and rely on each other. If we are seeking to follow God, then our goal is becoming dependent on and interconnected with others, so that we never have to be self-reliant but rather united and using our gifts as we serve Jesus. The struggle to be independent yields isolation. It shouldn’t be the goal. 

Our children depend on us and now we depend on them in many ways. Our son is a workhorse. He has a great work ethic and wants things to be done right the first time. Our oldest daughter brightens our days with her very presence. Her laugh is contagious. Our youngest is our creative powerhouse. She makes us stop and enjoy life through her art. She calls us out when we are being small minded and focusing on life’s tasks rather than relationships and beauty. Bryce and I will always love the freedom of having grown children, but we’ll never run toward gaining back our independence. It’s a lonely place to be. And I hope you’re not there.

Without becoming dependent first, independence can’t exist. We need to understand our independence through our dependence. 

Let’s keep the balance of being joyful in independence - our ability to be secure in who we are -  while creating the space to be dependent and in relationship with our family and friends. It’s through community that we see how God works.  

Searching for wisdom and asking for grace,

Jody

First published on reddirtrecollective.com

I Am Her Legacy

A couple years ago, for the first time, I remember reading about the history of Mother’s Day in America. It surprised me. The official holiday all seemed to start with a woman named, Ann Reeves Jarvis. She was determined to honor her own mother’s legacy and the sacrifices women make for their children. After accomplishing her dream to get an official US holiday, she later denounced it because of the commercialism that now surrounded it. If you want to see more of that history, it can be found at history.com.

It is no surprise that Mother’s Day is an important, well celebrated holiday. I don’t remember my first Mother’s Day as a child. I was only 3 months old and my mom had already been a mother for 14 years. I do remember my first Mother’s Day as a mother. I was honored and proud to celebrate. 

What a joy to be able to raise a child and how terribly exhausting. I soon found out how hard and satisfying that was as my son grew and we added other children to our family. Today, I’m still learning that as we raise young adults to be productive, contributing members of society who seek to do their best to love God and others. Sometimes it’s easy and sometimes it’s hard, but it is always our role as parents to support, defend and love our children - no matter what. 

My mom does this for me. It’s where I learned it. I am my mother’s mini-me in SO many ways. I look like her. I act like her. I even hear her own words come out of my mouth! I have her fierce independent streak, her optimism, and love of life. Well, truth be told, I got that last one from both parents.

Jody, Age 16. Jody’s Mom, Age 16

This is the woman who put up with me and also helped make me who I am. She supports, defends, and loves me. Consistently, passionately, and timelessly. I am her legacy. I should honor her.

In the Bible, Ephesians 6:2 reminds us, “‘Honor your father and mother’—which is the first commandment with a promise.” 

So how do I honor my mother? I am her mini-me, but we are different. I love her, but sometimes don’t agree with her. God has given me some of her characteristics, but I have some different gifts too. 

Honoring our moms doesn’t mean we need to be exactly like them in every way and it certainly doesn’t mean that we always agree with them. I know my mom deserves my honor and respect. In very practical ways, she put countless hours into making me who I am. Meals were made. Clothes were bought. Shoes were tied. I know your mom has done the same because moms never stop being moms. 

As a mom, we invest in our children’s lives. We fight for them and we pray for them. My mom does this. I do this. 

Our moms deserve to be honored, but honoring the mothers in our lives isn’t a one day event. It’s a lifestyle. This Mother’s Day, let’s figure out how to honor our mothers all year long. And dare I say that we should do what they do for us. We should support, defend and love our moms. Consistently, passionately, and timelessly. 

Searching for wisdom and asking for grace,

Jody

First published on reddirtrecollective.com

Legacy Amidst Christian Tradition

Legacy building is uniquely personal to each of us. We all have different moments in our history that make us into who we are. When we try to be someone else, we fail. But when we take the legacy that others have given us, and we develop it into our own, our story and life shine brighter. Our impact on others grows and God is honored by us fully growing into who we are meant to be. 

That’s what happened for me at a very unexpected time and age over forty years ago. 

For years when I was young, it was our tradition as a family to attend Redland Valley BIC Church’s Maundy Thursday foot washing service. In remembrance of this day when Jesus washed his disciples feet after they sat down to the Last Supper - this meal that became a church symbol and the cornerstone of our present day act of communion - the men and women in our church would separate into two rooms and prepare to do as Jesus did. 

What did Jesus do? 

He sat down with those He loved and ate and then He gave his disciples a picture of what was to come. His body would be broken and blood would be spilled.  

While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, “Take and eat; this is my body.” Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you, I will not drink from this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.” - Matthew 26:26-29 NIV

Then Jesus did the unthinkable. He washed the disciples feet. He was their teacher and their leader. This wasn’t normal. Those of a perceived lesser value never experienced this kind of treatment. They were exalted while He humbled Himself. 

Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.

When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them. - John 13:3-5; 12-17 NIV

Back in that room at my church, around 7 years old, I sat beside my mom and watched as the ladies in the room knelt in love and humility in front of each other and gently placed each foot in the water bath, cupped their hands to bathe the pair of feet, dry them off, and gently place them on the floor. It was fascinating to me. 

But then something strange and wonderful happened. An older lady, Valeria, who was my Pal in the church (kind of like a Big Brothers Big Sisters mentor but run by the church), stopped in front of me with the basin of water. She knelt down and began to wash my feet! Me! A child decades younger than her. I knew very little about life and she knew what it meant to grow as a disciple of Jesus and become like Him. She was my living example of what it looked like for Jesus to wash his disciples feet. In that humble act, she exalted me. 

This was my first taste of what it meant to humble yourself to a younger generation. It is something I strive for especially with my kids. I don’t always get it right, but I want them to see what I saw so many years ago - A woman who loved God, was deeply steeped in Christian understanding, and who chose to pour her legacy into a younger generation. She created growth in me that I wouldn’t fully understand until I grew in age and wisdom. 

That picture of Valeria kneeling in front of me with the basin of water is forever etched in my mind. And when Maundy Thursday comes, I remember it. Through that simple but purposeful act, her legacy has now become a part of my legacy. 

It’s our job to continue the legacy others have given us, make it our own, and pass it on.

Searching for wisdom and asking for grace, 

Jody

Rain On The Wrong Side Of The Window

Is it raining in your house? Yes, you read that correctly. Is it raining IN your house? 

They say April showers bring May flowers. We’ve had some rain, haven’t we? And not just the kind falling outside our windows while we sit inside anticipating being out in the sunshine. No, we have had some life impacting, family destroying storms brewing around us. Each of them capable of devastating our families in some way - breaking down relationships, depleting our finances, or threatening our health.  

So what do we do? 

It’s not about stopping the rain. It will always come. It’s about how you will weather the storm. And that’s what my parents had to do the year that I was born.

The flood of ‘72 hit Harrisburg, Pennsylvania 4 months after I was born. That year was a crazy year for my parents with several life changing events: my birth, my grandmother’s house being flooded, my father changing jobs, my parents building a house in Pennsylvania while living in New Jersey, and then later that same year, moving to the new house.

You’ve heard the saying - what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Harrisburg, Pennsylvania 1972

It was a wild ride, but my parents made it through that year. Right now, you’re probably thinking the same thing I am. “We’ve had several years like that!” Years where significant life events stacked up against us. Even joyful ones can be chaotic and exhausting. When that happens, I’ve heard people say, “God doesn’t give you anything you can’t handle.” I disagree. 

I believe God allows us to experience things that we can’t handle. Things that would crush us and leave us utterly depleted. In 1972, my parents had one of those years. Mentally, emotionally and physically exhausting. And despite the circumstances, here’s why I believe they made it through. 

If God gave us everything that we could handle, we would never need to depend on Him. We would become confident in ourselves, our ability and our success at life. We would completely miss out on our need to rely on God. When things happen that we can’t handle, we start to ask why and then we search for the strength we need. When no one else can help us, it is in this moment that we experience who God is and learn to trust solely on Him. 

Are you in the middle of a series of stressful life events or maybe even just one? It’s time to breathe. God wants to give us what we need because we can’t handle this alone. Nor should we. 

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” - Romans 15:13 

Just like it did for my parents, family stories change when it is raining inside our homes. Don’t let the storm crush you. Rise up, be resilient. Let the rain change your family for the better.  

It might be storming now but remember the rain will end. Sunshine will come again. The world will be refreshed. And we will carry on because April showers bring May flowers and God is good all the time. 

Searching for wisdom and asking for grace,

Jody

P.S. My whole life is God showing me what He can do. There are lots of stories to prove it. I look forward to sharing them with you.

First published on reddirtrecollective.com

From Passion To Poison Control

Little girls love to dance. And we love to immortalize these moments. Cue the sound of music soundtrack - “I flit, I float, I fleetly flee, I fly.” Whether our kids are natural dancers with amazing rhythm and finesse or they awkwardly wiggle with some obscure dance move like Elaine from Seinfeld, we encourage them to dance. 

Why? Because dancing is joyful and when we have joy, we feel peace. As dancers develop, they refine their artistic expression and grow their passion. They can lead their audience through a range of emotions. 

But for our little ones, it mostly gives us a reminder of the uninhibited joy of living. We want our kids and families to experience it. 

Not only is dancing joyful, but we want our kids to find their passion, be better than everyone else at it, and be known for what they do. We encourage them to dance to see if they are a ballerina in the making. And some of them are. Even the talented ones who make it have to work incredibly hard through tears, sweat, and disappointment to fulfill their dreams.

My daughter, Jael, was a ballerina and her friend, who was also a ballerina, was like that. An incredibly talented driven dancer who made it to Pacific Northwest Ballet. Jael wasn’t the passionate goal oriented kind like her friend, but the awkward rhythmless one who liked to dance and socialize with her friends. She was cute, faithful to weekly practices, and consistently got on stage to perform in front of scores of cheering parents and siblings. 

But learning to dance is hard work and weeks of practice whether you are naturally gifted or not. My daughter practiced every week. But she never improved. She was always the adorable little girl tripping over herself looking at the other dancers to see which direction to go. 

Jael - Trying To Head In The Right Direction

But parents are committed to helping their kids excel. Aren’t you? And dancing is a commitment. Hours of time, not only for practice, but for parents running back and forth to the studio. This was my least favorite part. Some parents love the car time with their children. I never did. I hated it. I could think of 1001 things I would rather do than tote a kid around. But I did it. And my parents did it, and my husband did it, and his mom did it because we were committed to letting Jael explore dance and the joy it can bring. 

Honestly, the best part for Jael was chatting with friends and the praise, prizes and gifts that the kids were given. Who doesn’t love a piece of candy or a glow stick at age 5? 

Me. That’s who. 

It was an evening dance class and I had just waited through the entire session. I picked up Jael and her glowing bracelets, quickly strapped her into her booster seat, and rushed down the road to our friend’s house. Our plans for after dance were way more important than this car ride. 

Jael was struggling in the back seat. I could see her in the rearview mirror. Let’s face it, parents and grandparents are obsessed with checking on the kids in the back of cars. I don’t know why. How much trouble can they really get into back there? 

Then the melt down began. You know the one. Where you physically see the child starting to emotionally lose it. Jael was upset and burst out crying, “My bracelet is stuck!” That made no sense to me, I could see the glow bracelets on her arm, but could also see her pulling at her body. “It’s stuck under me.” For goodness sake, she was sitting on the one she wanted. It was my fault, I buckled her in without looking, but I definitely wasn’t about to stop the car for that. I did the most reasonable thing. I told her to pull it. She did. 

Then she cried again, “It’s leaking all over me.” Jael can be a bit dramatic so I rolled my eyes and realized I was in for a very loud, emotional 30 minute car ride. If you have kids, you know the drill. I was so frustrated until I heard these teary eyed words, “I’M GLOWING!” 

There are times that you should glow. The day of your wedding. Carrying your first baby. Seeing your son graduate - touch and go at times, but you knew he could make it through. The first time you see your new grandchild. These are the times to glow, but definitely not in the back seat of an 80’s era, two tone green Ford LTD at 5 years old. 

I snapped to attention and looked in the mirror. There staring back at me in the dark was Jael. The only parts of her that I could see were the bright yellow glow spots all over her body from her glow stick. Have you ever broken one of these? It is amazing how far they can spread. 

I burst out laughing. That was not the correct response. She was madder and more emotional than before. Oops. I tried my best to calm her down and convince her to stop wriggling around spreading that dreaded glow liquid everywhere. 

It didn’t work and moments later I heard the fateful words that no parent wants to hear. “I got it in my mouth!” Now, here I am arguing with a 5 year old, trying to calm her down, and panicking because she has just eaten yellow glowing slime. 

I needed proof. “Open your mouth!” Her response - streams of tears. Once again. “Open your mouth!” Proof given. Her tongue was glowing. Now I was panicked but thankfully I used a little common sense and replied, “It’s ok, honey, I just need to call Pop.”

Moments later, I found myself on the phone trying to convince my husband that everything was fine despite the backseat teary chaos he was hearing through the phone. He called poison control. I waited. Turns out glow stick liquid is non-toxic. Thank God. And although the poison control operator was very professional, he did chuckle as he told my husband that he hates glow bracelets. Apparently, they are the reason for most of his incoming calls.

That kid glowed the whole way to our friend’s house - the one with the very talented career ballerina. And you know what, I’m proud of that ballerina and my own. 

Why? Because we can learn a lot from our little dancers who throw caution to the wind. They haven’t yet learned to be inhibited by the opinion of others. And that’s a good thing. 

When we care too much about what others think, we are paralyzed. We can’t save our family legacy because we want to be seen as the most amazing person that ever lived. Well, for the record, you can’t have that title. You’ll never beat out Jesus. He did more for us than you or I ever could. 

But our inhibition keeps us from rescuing our family legacy. We ask questions like, “What will they think of me?” But let’s stop for a moment. We are asking the wrong question. It is not, “What will my family think of me?” It is, “What can I give my family that will last for generations?” And what we can give are stories that share joy, show our faith, and display how we overcame life trials and persevered. We can also give them amusing stories showing how we dealt with our overly emotional glowing children. Those are the stories our families need to know.

We all have a lot to give. Don’t let it be lost. Even if you have to glow in the dark like Jael to do it. 

Searching for wisdom and asking for grace,

Jody

First published on reddirtrecollective.com

Somebody Else’s Grandma

Don’t you love a good story? Me too!

A good story draws you in. It not only engages the mind, but the heart as well. We have a lot of great storytellers on both sides of our family. But even if your family doesn’t have good storytellers. The stories are worth telling, hearing, and knowing. Knowing family stories helps us remember who we are. It strengthens our identity.  

Let me share one of our family stories with you. I’ve told this story before, but I can’t help sharing it again. It’s a good one. 

Somebody Else’s Grandma

I never met my great grandma, but several years ago, my uncle was in an antique shop and found her photograph. He called my dad and told him. Excitedly, my dad called each of his kids - my two brothers and me. He told us that Uncle Marlin had found his grandma’s photo and even emailed us a picture of it among the shelves at Old Sled Works in Duncannon, Pennsylvania. My husband Bryce and I love to frequent antique shops and this is one we visit regularly. Although, somehow, we have never seen my Uncle Marlin there. 

Immediately, I knew what I wanted to get Dad for Christmas. With $50, our family went the next morning to get this photo of my great grandma. The frame was tattered but the picture itself was in remarkable shape. It was big though - almost 2 feet high. And boy was she a homely woman, but how could I resist? She was family and it would bring my father great joy. 

Looking back on this moment, it’s curious that I justified this gift by the family connection rather than clearly thinking through the large size of this two dimensional portrait of a woman I knew nothing about. But as I said, she was family. 

Without hesitation, we bought the photo, broken frame and all. We didn’t even get home before I got a call from my brother, Steve. Apparently my brother and his wife had the same thought but we got there first. They were searching for the photo but it was already gone. Steve and I did the only reasonable thing for siblings in this situation. We made a deal. Since I bought the photo, Steve would get a new frame and Dad would get this treasured gift. Feeling triumphant, I delivered our great grandma to Steve and looked forward to Christmas several months away. 

With a phone call weeks later, disaster struck. My brother was on the other end of the call. 

“Jody, you got somebody else’s grandma.” 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You got SOMEBODY ELSE’S GRANDMA!”

I had no idea what my brother was saying. It made no sense. My brother was with our extended family for breakfast. As Uncle Marlin bragged about finding his grandma’s photo at Old Sled Works, he was quickly rebuked by our great aunt who had the right grandma’s photograph in her living room! 

My brother repeated, “You got SOMEBODY ELSE’S GRANDMA!” We roared with laughter. 

Obviously the Christmas plan changed and Steve, who hadn’t gotten the new frame yet, asked what I wanted him to do with Somebody Else’s Grandma. My reply, “I want her back. I paid 50 bucks for her!”

I had no idea what I was going to do with this large photo of a homely woman who I had exactly no connection to except for a crazy story. Still, it was 50 bucks so I was keeping her. 

Over the course of the next several weeks, my brother would remind me that he still had Somebody Else’s Grandma in his garage and every time I left his house, I would forget her. 

Then, I went to my cousin’s baby shower. My sister-in-law, Lori leaned over my mother, looked me straight in the eye and said, “Somebody Else’s Grandma is in the car for you.” My mother looked horrified and confused. Lori and I burst out laughing as I responded, “I’ll get her when we leave.” I got Somebody Else’s Grandma back that day.

At Christmas that year, we gave our entire family much smaller copies of her replicated photo and shared the mildly unbelievable story. We all had a good laugh that Christmas. 

Somebody Else’s Grandma’s Rehanging Ceremony

It took several months, but we reframed the photo and picked the perfect place in our home for her - our powder room. Somebody’s Else’s Grandma is so much a part of our lives, that my brother even got the honor of ceremoniously hanging her again after our powder room was redone recently. She is Somebody Else’s Grandma but we love her. When friends join us for dinner and attempt to politely ask, “Who is that...um...lady in the bathroom? Bryce and I look at each other, laugh and say in unison, “She is Somebody Else’s Grandma!” 

Our kids know who she is and who she isn’t. It’s ironic that one of our foundational family stories is about someone else’s family member. But they say laughter lengthens your life. And we love to laugh. 

We retell this story often. It is one of our favorites. Our kids have heard it so many times, they could retell it themselves. I like this story. One of these days we’ll even record it for posterity. Looking back on what seemed so normal at the time, makes me chuckle seeing how totally quirky it is. And how absolutely “us” it is.

That’s what your family stories and my family stories are. They are not only about each of us, they make us who we are. When woven together, they reveal our character, our spiritual walk, our values, and the traditions we set. And it’s those things that let our children see who we are and who they should become. 

I hope this week you share some stories with your family. Even the crazy ones. 

And as you do, maybe you’ll find your own Somebody Else’s Grandma to confuse your friends and bring you hysterical tears of joy.

Searching for wisdom and asking for grace,

Jody

First published on reddirtrecollective.com

Do You Need More?

How many times have you found yourself coming up short - being stuck in a place where you just need more? You are not alone. At some point we all get stuck and need more. More friends. More health. More money. More time. It’s easy to need more. 

Do you need more right now? 

There are countless times that I have needed more in my life, but by far the most all consuming and most memorable time was at age 22. Bryce and I were married just nine short months and I found out that I had cancer. With fewer treatment options, cancer thirty years ago was even more terrifying than it is now. In my mind cancer equaled death. It meant the end. My battle with cancer started with an innocent trip to the doctor. I had an enlarged lymph node at the base of my neck. She casually said it was probably nothing, but at my convenience, we should get an x-ray. Within 48 hours that x-ray quickly turned into a CT scan, which resulted in me finding myself post-surgery in Harrisburg Hospital, now known as UPMC Pinnacle Harrisburg, looking up out of my hospital bed staring into the eyes of Dr.  Thomas Andrews, an oncologist. In the kindest, gentlest way possible, he told me that I had cancer and that more tests would be needed to determine how far it had spread. I was devastated. At that moment, I needed more. More answers. More health. More love. And simply, more faith. 

Jody And Her Chemo Hat

I cried. Hard. For what seemed like hours. Exhausted and weak, I knew this couldn’t go on. That night, I told God that I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t cry anymore about this diagnosis. I needed him to take care of it. I needed more. I needed his strength and perseverance in whatever lay ahead. I told God that I wouldn’t cry again. And through the whole battle, I didn’t. It was in His hands and His will would be done. In the months that followed, I didn’t have any tears to shed as I fought and endured through chemo, radiation, anti-nausea meds, endless tests and needles, lots of needles. 

But I needed more. And I got more. 

We don’t always get what we expect and if you need more right now, give up. You can’t get it. At least not on your own. God didn’t create us to endure alone. 

This is evident throughout the bible, but especially starting in the very beginning when God created something out of nothing - creatio ex nihilo - and then woman out of man. 

The Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him…..So the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man’s ribs and then closed up the place with flesh. Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man. - Genesis 2: 18, 21-22 NIV

God gives us relationships and community. And he created us to delight in Him. Always. In the Bible it says, 

Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. - Romans 5:3-5 ESV

Do you see this chain of events that the apostle Paul mentions? Our suffering produces endurance. Our endurance produces character. And character produces hope. When we are suffering and need more, our focus isn’t to be on what we are lacking, but what we have through our relationship with Christ. It is in that space where growth comes and the virtues of endurance, character and hope follow. 

Do you need more? Do what’s hard. Give God your worry, your fear, and your need. And then do what honors God. Give Him praise in the midst of your suffering. As you do this over and over again, it will create an incredible story of your life. A chronicled history that shows your family endurance, character, and hope. 

This is history worth saving. When our stories are retold, read, or watched our children learn from them. They get to see who we are and how crucial our faith is to everything we do and experience.

As we watch our children growing and maturing whether at age 5 or 50, they will always need more too. Wouldn’t it be amazing to let them see the chronicle of our lives and be reminded how the generations before them got more from God when they needed it? That’s what I want my children to be able to do, don’t you? 

Searching for wisdom and asking for grace,

Jody

First published on reddirtrecollective.com

When It Hurts

Today, I’m sitting here avoiding something. I’ve been avoiding it for a couple of weeks now. To everyone else it just looks like a red naugahyde zippered portfolio filled with papers. I haven’t actually opened it up yet, I just know it has papers inside. But I’m avoiding it. My family hasn’t noticed me look toward the windowsill and then look away deciding not to touch it. I haven’t been ready. Staying away is easier. 

Isn’t it safer for us to avoid things we don’t like or challenges that are too hard? We sit down to dinner at a friend’s house and easily navigate a polite way around those onions in the stew or the green bean casserole. In comparison with life’s challenges that seems pretty easy. We go out of our way to walk the long way to our office to avoid talking to our hyper engaged coworker. We push our hard life experiences as far into the forgettable past as we can - rarely bringing them up in conversation. Out of necessity, we carefully balance whether we leave our past behind us or engage it. Rightfully, some of the things we avoid are best left alone. 

That’s how I’ve felt about this red naugahyde zippered portfolio. I’ve been waiting for the right time to open it because I know what it has inside. And before I close this post, I’ll look inside and share some of it with you. But the problem is that I know what is inside. That unassuming portfolio is filled with a broken heart. And pain. But also love. And as soon as I open it, it will be filled with my tears. That’s why I’ve been avoiding it. It holds the letters that my late mother-in-law, Mary, wrote to her husband, Bud, after he passed away. Ironically, the red naugahyde portfolio used to contain them is from the same funeral home that buried them both. And maybe even more ironic is the day I’ve chosen to be ready to read them is the one day a year that is most important to me. It’s the first day of Pennsylvania whitetail deer season and has been a sacred holiday in our family for years. Why it is so important to me will be a story for another time. 

It is so much easier to avoid the hard things. Ignoring those painful memories of loss just to appear unencumbered throughout the day is what we usually aim to do. But whether it has been losing a home, a job, a loved one, or some other challenge in life, you know the feeling when you stop avoiding and engage the emotional pain - your chest tightens and your heart races, It hurts. It’s so much simpler to avoid the pain. It’s easier, but is it better? 

Naugahyde Portfolio And Notebook

That red lettered zippered portfolio is now open. And with it the tears have come. My mother-in-law loved my father-in-law so much. I can’t even begin to imagine the amount of tears that are already on these notebook pages. Each one is a dated letter to her husband starting ten months after he died. There are accounts of Mary’s children and grandchildren. There are writings that define her faith and who she was. There are intimate love notes. And there are reflections of family character being passed on like this one. “I thank God for the two wonderful sons you helped me raise. They are wonderful husbands and fathers, just like you. They had a good role model.”

Five years later, Mary shared these words with her grief group. 

I can do everything through Him who gives me strength - Phillipians 4:13

These are the words that Paul wrote as he was finishing his letter to the church in Philippi. Almost two thousand years later, these are the same words that helped a hurting widow as she grieved. They are words we need to remember when it is time for us to stop avoiding the hard times and challenges in our lives. God gives us the strength that we need when we embrace difficult times. But he also lets us see the beauty.

If I never opened the red naugahyde portfolio zipper, I would have never experienced this beautiful picture of who my mother-in-law was. But be careful, it’s hard. For me, I’ve closed the zipper on that red naugahyde portfolio. I’ll open it again another day when I’m ready. Walking through difficult circumstances with our family gives us amazing stories and history, but if you have experienced loss, take your time. Embrace what’s hard. Don’t avoid the emotions. Just take it slow so you can appreciate the beauty that you find. 

Searching for wisdom and asking for grace,

Jody

First published on reddirtrecollective.com