"That's what Christmas means to me, my love..."

You may have noticed that I'm not the most consistent with blog posts.  I think this is going to be part of my new year's resolutions... well, really, those rarely get kept.  So rather than calling it that, I'll call it a part of our goals for 2013.  We did pretty well with our goals for 2012!  We started the recording process (loosely - we have 90% of the songs, and we made some demos), we practiced more, we met a penguin (actually two!), we went on another Big Adventure to North Carolina... we also started the Year of Health once we got close to our first wedding anniversary and realized we had celebrated being newlyweds all to well the way we know best - EATING.  Some simple rules about our eating habits have helped us fit back into our clothes again, thank heavens!  That will run through next July 15, so we'll have to update you once we get there.

There are some things that were on our list that we didn't quite get to... one was to host a Taste for Change dinner party (as you can see by the last blog entry, this was begun quite a bit ago!).  We went on the Big Adventure, but never got any video footage together.  There are some other ones that we didn't complete on our fridge list of goals, I know, but we're in Florida (!!!) to record an EP with the worship band we joined this year, The Remedy, so I don't have it in front of me to remember what all of them are that we "failed" on...

And I think that's where this blog post is going.  Honestly, I have had so much on my heart that I've wanted to write about that it's hard to pick one, but we'll start here.  It is the day after Christmas, and I am struck by how often this season I was asked by frazzled people, "Are you ready for Christmas?!"  I am starting to cringe whenever I hear this (and when I am tempted to ask it myself).  What most people mean is, "Have you spent all your money yet?  Have you proven yourself socially savvy by purchasing something for everyone that could possibly be expecting it?  Have you put decorations out?  Have you baked your 32 dozen cookies for the 16 cookie exchanges you agreed to do?  Did you pick up enough stuff in the dollar section at Target to fill stockings and White Elephant gift bags so that people can feel momentarily fulfilled before they throw it away or give it to Goodwill?"

Let me be clear:  I love Christmas.  Chris loves it even more.

We begin listening to nothing but Christmas music on Black Friday and rotate through our deluxe Christmas special DVD sets (which, p.s., are WAY weirder than I thought they were when I was 7...) and work on our now-annual Chris & Jenna Christmas video (you can view 2011 here and 2012 here) and save our pennies for a Starbucks peppermint white mocha or eggnog latte... (Year of Health, Jenna.  One and done!!)  This year, I got in crafty mode and made us an advent calendar:

On each day to flip over, I put a sticky note of a Christmas-related task and a scripture to read.  I tried to make it a special thing that would increase Chris's abundant holiday cheer and keep us mindful of this special time.  I included trivial things, like the Starbucks drink, as well as some more service-oriented things that make me uncomfortable, like creating some cold-weather kits for homeless people in our community and actually going out to give them in person (we got the stuff for the kits; we are planning to give them out when we return from FL).  Without fail, as December got busier, we started to fall behind on some of our activities.  There was my precious creation on the wall, but I'd look at it and realize that yesterday's date would still be unturned, and that some of the dates we had overturned listed activities we hadn't even begun.

Cue the voices of despair.

Each time, though, Chris looked at me sternly and mandated that we were NOT going to turn the advent calendar into a guilt trip.  We could CHOOSE to do the things I had thought up, or we could choose not to, or we could choose to do them 3 weeks after Christmas, and that none of this would be a measurement of failure.  It was a choice.  He centered me each time, implying that I am not a terrible wife if we didn't bake the self-inflicted cookies for the neighbors at a timely moment (and that maybe I should also chill if I didn't actually have enough powdered sugar for the recipe I had wanted to make, and if I accidentally melted the butter instead of softening it...). 

And I need his help in this... because if I listen to everyone around me, Christmas is a to-do list.  It's a set of things to accomplish, and I am less of a woman if I don't complete them all.

This wearies my heart.

It's hard to communicate the message of what I want to say without sounding like the cheesy "Keep CHRIST in Christmas!" saying.  Because really, I don't see much of Christ in a lot of the Christmas in my area.  God didn't commission the holiday of the Christmas that we've made at Jesus' birth.  The angels didn't sing, "Glory to God in the highest, and peace to his people who manage to hang enough icicle lights to look festive but not tacky."  A lot of our pretty carols and songs even seem to sing of the poor baby Jesus in the cold winter snow, which whether it's accurate or not, seems to hint at a lot more of our own seasons and chosen date of December 25 than the Biblical evidence I read of the account.  It's a microcosm of what we do to God: we take something miraculous and incredible, and we attach our own human ideas and practices to it until it's a weak, shredded version of what it once was.  While I love seeing decorated trees and lights, they are not Christmas.

Christmas is God exchanging his riches for poverty.  Christmas is God turning the status quo on its head.  Christmas is God coming to earth as a homeless infant.  Christmas is God taking on human flesh SO THAT he could die for us, set from the beginning.  Christmas is the gift we've never quite been able to rationalize receiving, the gift we disguise with bows and wrapping so that we can make it something pretty and orderly and tangible and controlled, instead of the dirty, shocking, "beautiful, scandalous night" that it was.  Christmas is unfair.  I can't pay it back, can't measure up to it, can't fathom it, can't justify it by my actions. 

And when I read of Mary's selfless compliance bearing the son of God, sacrificing her community's respect, Joseph doing the same by taking her as his wife to follow God's direction, and this rugged, painful, glamor-less birth, all of the Secret Santas and house spotlights to show greenery and bows through the night to passersby and shopping "to do" on my list become hollow.  I don't think God's dreams for us when He let us know of this miraculous night in history were to have us spend THOUSANDS of dollars on gifts that, honestly, most of the people on our lists really don't need.

I don't think He desired for Christmas to become something to accomplish.

My vow is that I will not make Christmas into this.  I will not share in the scores of women who ask, "Are you ready??" and find comfort in us each bemoaning how much we've procrastinated on gift-buying and how much food we'll need to make in the coming weeks.  Because we don't HAVE to do any of it.

Seriously?  Seriously.  WE DON'T HAVE TO DO ANY OF IT.

Will our families judge us?  Will our neighbors scoff?  Will our Bible studies look at us in concern?  Will our children feel jilted?

Probably.  And if that's enough to keep us going through the motions, scurrying around like drug-tested mice to "be ready" for Christmas, then we've missed the whole point.  Entirely.  

Don't miss my meaning: having an opportunity to express care for people through thoughtful, meaningful gifts is wonderful.  Having family traditions is special and creates closeness and memories.  Doing intentional preparations for a holiday that remind us of why we celebrate in the first place is helpful and can keep our hearts in the proper posture.  I love doing these things, and will continue to do them.  But I pray that as I do them, I will do them with a heart like Mary's, who "pondered these things and treasured them in her heart," and did not "briefly reflect on these things and treasured the gifts she didn't have to worry about coming in the mail on time."

Christmas will NEVER be a to-do list in our house, a thing to race to get ready for on the outside and not in our spirits, and if it ever does, I pray we can back off from it and get back to its simple, hard, lovely truths of love poured out on us undeservedly.

Get Up and Walk.

In the past couple weeks, we've had some intense conversations with some dear friends whose lives have suddenly been turned upside down.  They are going through life-defining moments in which the things they hold dear have disappeared, leaving them options - options to find another person to cling to instead, to throw themselves into activities that would distract them from pain, or to run headlong after God, with nothing holding them back from pursuit of Him and His dreams for their lives that they now might have open ears to hear.

And if I'm honest, a weird part of me envies them.

I've had defining moments like this, and they've completely shaped my life.  Chris has had them too, and some of our stories are why we have these conversations with people - we've walked those roads and come out on the other end knowing God better and learning so much about life.  But when the years keep passing after these mega-trial moments, sometimes it starts to become a little fuzzy.  Life starts to seem a little more comfortable when there's not devastating heartbreak threatening to keep me in bed for a week or thrilling tough life circumstances that create an incredible need to depend on the Lord for survival.  Were times like that fun?  Heavens, no.  Horrid.  But I feel like I had the chance to really hear what God had been trying to say to me all along about who I was and what He had created me for.  Now, in comfy times, I know in my head that those truths have not changed... but they do seem a lot less life-or-death, above-all-else important.

"It is not enough to say I love you...
It is not enough to say I need you so...
'Cause every time my tongue does move
It's only words from me to you
And love requires a deeper proof
To do the last thing I'd want to do
For you..."

And I start to stumble.  I start to sink, fractions of an inch at a time, into having a head knowledge of what I feel like I'm supposed to be doing and knowing the joy it brings my heart, but having miles of space between a life like that and what my life really looks like.  And those miles start to look like an impossible frigid desert, full of brush and debris and massive landforms and terrible weather that would prevent me from going much farther past the tiptoes I have in past the boundary.

The terrain gets even more intense when I look at the mountain on the other side, where people who are younger and cuter than me are having a big successful musical ministry party.  Clearly they know some kind of secret I don't, because they picked up and moved to Nashville and now are magically able to support themselves touring for a living and putting out new records all the time.  And others of them must have magical genes because they're barely 22 and writing new songs like a boss to huge critical acclaim.  And others who seem to have lots in common with me, but clearly care about what they're doing more and are better at it because they've booked 20 shows to the one I've chased down.  And clearly they must have more faith than me because I'm not at that party on the mountain with them.  And after all, I'm 28, and that's close to 30, and isn't 30 a bit old to be still trying to think about all this and not have significant progress made towards those goals, to still be stuck in the frigid sand and snow?

"It is not enough to find time for you soon...
It is not enough to give what I would give up anyway,
It is not enough - it is not love."

Which is the mud-slinging, wallowing pity party I throw myself back on the other side of the desert before one of these on-fire, life-defining-moment women (you can read her inspiring blog posts and get convicted about your life here) stops my poor-me celebration with one look and says, "That's comparison.  You are comparing.  Stop it."

She's right.  I am.  I am comparing my life and my inside struggles and sins with only the shiny pretty outside of somebody else's life.  Who is not me.  Who has nothing to do with what God has whispered he wants me to do.  I don't recall ever getting a word from the Lord that said "Jenna, my calling on your life is for you to try to mimic ____________'s life.  They're doing things right.  You aren't creative enough to live your own life.  So, my child, try to live theirs."

But I live like that's what He said.  Like a jealous older brother watching his younger brother, who wasted all of his money but came to apologize, get a big party thrown for his repentance while I sit thinking I never got anything like that my whole life.  Even though everything my Father ever could - and DID - give is surrounding me at my fingertips.  Oh, but for my blindness, I could be enjoying these riches instead of glaring at somebody else's!

Like a beggar who sits, lame.  And begging for Jesus' healing power to come over his life because he can't forsee it ever going differently otherwise - he sees everyone walking by him every day, doing the thing he wishes he could do but is positive he can't.  And Jesus looking at him and saying "Get up and walk."

"'Cause love is an easy word to choose
But weakens the more I overuse
It acts as a cover for the flaw
That saving myself is all I want
To do..."


Get up and walk, Jenna.  The lie that some far off moment is going to come, when THEN I will be successful and satisfied and living out God's purposes immaculately, is just that - a lie.  What am I doing about it RIGHT NOW?  If the answer is nothing, then nothing will come of it.  If I could just change my answer to be something more consistently, I bet something would come of it more often.  Stop bemoaning what could be and isn't, and JUST. DO. SOMETHING. NOW.

"I'm done loving with the words I say
But not with selfishness my deeds convey
I wanna be love
I'm done faking authenticity
I'm not getting up off of my knees 
Til I can be love"

The song I'm writing here and sharing with you (before I even get Chris to edit it and make it better!) wasn't about this originally.  But it certainly describes the present moment.  I am called to love the Lord with the gifts he has given to me.  And brooding about my supposed inability to do so or the timing of it all is a sad replacement for what I could be doing in that moment - living out love by writing the songs He's placed in my heart and letting God take care of what He wants to do with them, to do with me.

"I'm done, I'm done living for me
I want, I want to be a living sacrifice
And give my life for you..."

God, you have to bring me to this place again and again.  I'm so sorry for the time I waste doing this instead of just believing Your promises and living like who You meant me to be, not some imaginary version that I've created in my head that I'm supposed to be measuring up to.  I will try to be me.  And I will try to let go of trying to plan and control my life and instead offer it to You and let You have a turn.

Grace Isn't Always a Pretty Word.

I have recently (as in the past several years) learned to love the sound of the word "grace."  I think it's a good example of one of those words that sounds kind of like what it means.  Just hearing it, I can see the graceful arc of a ballerina's arm extending above her head, a river bird perfectly gliding onto the water, my grandmother's weathered and kind face.

God has been revealing to me, bit by bit, what His grace looks like.  And it, too, is beautiful.  There is such poetry in hearing the grace shown to the prodigal son, returning home and undeserving of love but being received with running, open arms by his father.  Each time Jesus shows his grace by looking at, touching, or healing a hurting woman, my heart melts.  Grace is wrapped in love, and when it is lavished, it turns our heads and we take notice.

In the past couple years, I would probably tell you that I've had many opportunities to learn what it means to extend grace.  Forgiveness is at the root of it - learning to let go and love again when I've been wronged.  God's lesson in this to me is the pillar that our marriage is built upon.  Chris and I dated for a while right after I graduated from college, and it ended in a horrible breakup.  There were a pretty miserable few months there.  Eventually, God led me past my grief to show me who I was without Chris, which I realized I had lost sight of.  And then one day, just as I was beginning to try to cleanse the anger from my heart, Chris called out of the blue.  He, too, had been growing in our time apart, and he came to me with apologies and acknowledgements of every wrong that had been done.  God intervened and took every ounce of anger I had carried on my shoulders in one breath - it was a physical feeling!  Forgiveness was not instantaneous - I learned that it is a choice, to choose into it daily rather than retreat into the past.  I certainly did not go leaping back into Chris's arms, and he was wise to not expect that, but he spent the next months faithfully, intentionally pursuing my friendship and then my heart.  With trust built up based on showing one another grace and forgiveness, we began to date in order to marry.  God's grace is the reason for our marriage today.  And while it was hard and ugly for a while, it's all part of a beautiful story.

HOWEVER.  The turning point in our story is when Chris came and sought my forgiveness.  He knew he didn't deserve it, but he came to make amends.  And while extending forgiveness when it is requested is not always easy, it softens my heart when someone humbles himself to admit his wrongdoing and begins to pave the way for it.

BUT... what about when someone doesn't ask for forgiveness?  When someone either refuses to acknowledge their sin, or truly doesn't even see it?  This the place I sit.  God is putting multiple people in my life who have no interest in trying to reconcile, to talk it out, to apologize for something.  One may just ignore me and the whole problem, another may just act as if nothing wrong ever happened, and then, horror of horrors, another actually might need something from me.

This is when grace feels ugly to me.

Everything inside me is injured, indignant, and wants to cry out, "Do you have any idea what life has been like for me?  How can you pretend everything is fine?  I'm hurting!  YOU hurt me!!  And now you WANT something from me?!" and on and on and on...  And I'm sure there would be many a person who would say I'm justified.

And this exposes my as-yet immature plunges into extending grace.  Because I'm willing to forgive... if someone apologizes first.  Until then, my tendency is to hold out.  I can even act kindly on the surface to that person, because it might make me feel good about myself, like I'm the "bigger person."

I once read in Timothy Keller's book Prodigal God that you can't truly forgive someone if you still think you are better than him.  It grabbed my heart at the time, and I conveniently managed to put it away and not think about it until just this second as I'm writing this.  I talked to Chris about one such situation, and indignantly pointed out the irony and injustice of it all.  He so simply said the thing that I knew deep down in my gut and didn't want to hear aloud... "Yeah, but wouldn't this be a really great opportunity for you to show grace?"  Cue the stomach plunge and watery eyes.

I'm pouring out my heart here because grace sounds like such a lovely word.  And looking at the aftermath of it being poured out, it usually leaves a lovely picture behind.  But sometimes, when you're the one with the choice, it doesn't feel lovely.  It feels hard and wrong and backwards.  And like it's the last thing you want to do, the last thing the world would tell you to do, because it doesn't make sense.  That person could go right on ahead and take advantage of you, and you would be the weaker for it.  And, frustratingly, you might never feel the benefit of what you pour out to that person.

"In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple." Jesus said this to his followers in Luke.  He's not just talking about earthly possessions.  He means my pride, my self-given "right" to be apologized to and to be treated the way I think I should be.  This is what grace is.  Lavishly giving when it is undeserved and feels absurd.  Forgiving and extending love when it hurts.  Sometimes there is no earthly reward for this.  If I'm waiting for a pat on the back, I shouldn't have bothered in the first place.

I'm sure a song will come out of all this at some point... On our first album, there's one I wrote about learning to apologize (seriously a difficult thing for me at one point).  I guess now God's got me on a different side of things, way more difficult to me than the seemingly easy thing of accepting an apology (and it once seemed so hard!).  I pray I can learn to do this because it's what Christ did for me, long before I thought of apologizing or trying to admit my own wrongs.

what looks like weakness can do anything 

and what looks like foolishness is understanding 

when what is powerful has not come to fight 

it looks like you’re going to war 

but you lay down your life 

but i give myself to what looks like love 

and i sell myself for what feels like love 

and i pay to get what is not love 

and all just because i see things upside down

~derek webb

A New Name

This weekend we got to visit my sister Katrina at Penn State and got to attend her church.  They've been going through the book of Genesis, and we were on Genesis 17 - Circumcision.  (A little awkward, right?  Is it just me that has the tendency to look around to see who's giggling and hiding their face in their Bibles trying to be mature?)

The man who taught had a lot of wise things to say... he pointed out how much God is the central character and focus of this passage, unlike many passages that tell stories with God almost absent as a character, and this creates something we need to pay attention to.    (On a complete side note, I listened to a children's book about prepositions this week that said it is in fact NOT wrong to end a sentence with a preposition!  SCORE!  This has been a bane of my writing existence for years!!)

This is also the chapter in which God for the first time gives someone a new name - a sure sign that something big is happening.  He changes Abram to Abraham, redefining his purpose from being an "exalted father" to a "father of multitudes."  He elaborates on his promises to Abraham, saying that despite Abraham's best efforts to figure out God's plan and make it happen in his own way (cough, cough... my life?!), God still has a plan set and that it is only now (THIRTEEN years after Abram's efforts to make it come true! ugh!) that more light and definition will be shed.

He then gives Sarai a new name - Sarah.  What's interesting to me is that they both mean "princess."  So, she maintains her role and her purpose, but simply gets a new spelling??  Hmm.  Any other time God changes a name in scripture, it is indeed a sign of change, of calling, of importance.  So it's not that her life is taking on an unprecedented direction; it's the advent of the promised purpose and calling finally coming to fruition.

The thought that came to me was that, while the Bible doesn't tell us about many female God-given name changes, we see tons of female name changes in our culture today.  Many women who get married (although I'm sure statistics will tell us this percentage is falling daily) take on their husband's last name, either shedding their maiden name or hyphenating it with the new name.  I guess it's not really novel that with this new name a woman takes on a new identity as a wife... but I do think it's easy to take on the "title" of Mrs. _____________ without the sense of a new self.  For me at least, after being rather independent and taking care of myself up until age 27, it's hard to suddenly be in a role that needs me to let someone else take care of me and seeks first the betterment of that person before my own, all the time, every day!  On an average day to day basis, it can be easy to fall into my old habits and patterns of how I like to spend my evenings, what I think should be done with the time I have, what's important to me... but this new name is an opportunity, I think, to let God redefine who I am and the purpose to which he has called me.  He doesn't intend for me to just carry on in my same-old self, riddled with selfishness and stubbornness and so many other things wrapped into it... He is calling me out and coaxing out the things in me he wants to purify and cleanse, and does it (at times painfully!) through this new name of being a Mrs., being pledged and promised to a man to love him faithfully through everything, having to expose my uglier parts in order to love him better and let God mold me.

I'm getting to a tired state of mind and having trouble finding the right ending (and worrying that I'm rambling)... so I guess my point is that God's act of giving us new names is ultimately done now through Christ, when we are called His through having faith in him.  And that God, being a God of grace and second chances, gives me another chance through this new married name to bring glory to His name by serving with someone at my side, and serving the one at my side as I need to serve my God.  It's not just a legal document change at the MVA and Social Security... it's truly a gift and a calling to let God give me new purposes and do greater things than I could have done when I was just me on my own.  God, I hope I can listen to you call me by name to follow You the way You've dreamed for me!

Time

I do not often have the discipline I should.

Time is something that, every few weeks or so, causes me to despair at how little I have of it.  There are not enough hours in the day to practice, to see the people I want to see, to get some quality date time, to keep our apartment clean, to write new songs, to write poetry and prose like I used to, to exercise...

I am a planner, and sometimes this can be a fault of mine.  I get stressed out when I don't know what's going on and frustrated when plans get foiled.  It is something I am gradually learning to loosen up about, definitely with Chris's help (he's the type that often does not plan the way I think he should, and yet things miraculously always work out for him!).

But with the planner in me, if I don't think ahead about un-scheduled time, life can flip on its head and go from having "not enough time" to piles of wasted time.  It's spring break, and I have so many high hopes for it!  Chris roused me on his way to work at 8 am this morning, telling me he left the freezer door open and I'd better get up to close it (perfect trick, it actually got me out of bed - not an easy task!!)  After a few minutes I stumbled to the kitchen (he closed it after all) and then to the living room, where I picked up the laptop "just to check email."  It is now an hour and a half later, and what have I done?  I sent one band marketing inquiry... am now writing a blog post... and spend the whole rest of that time changing Facebook pictures, looking through Twitter, browsing a few blogs, and generally a whole lot of nothing.

Both Chris and I run into days/nights like this, where we get into a funk at how poorly we spent the hours we had.  There are so many worthwhile things to do, and yet we gravitate toward those that will not feed our souls or benefit others.

I think there is a fine line here that I need to walk... I often err on the side of having a “Martha heart,” bustling around trying to accomplish things and fretting about To Do lists. And it's true that I need to not have many mornings like this one where I sit on a couch in the face of everything else I could do. But getting off these cushions and spending the next few hours doing laundry and cleaning is not going to bless my heart, either. I have a wonderful mother who has worked so hard to take care of our family for my whole life. I am in awe of all she has done! And yet, often when we talk, she is frustrated with a day, and says that she “didn't get enough things done.” Indeed, I remember BALKING at hearing that phrase in my teenage years - “Jenna, it's time to get some things done!”  I think I hated the word "things" in the phrase, as if there were these looming tasks that would never be complete no matter what I accomplished (and thus precluded me from getting started at all at times!).  And for all the joy my mom has brought us and others, it makes me sad when her perception of her life is tied to how many chores and tasks she got done in a day.

The Gospel writers tell of Mary, who got it exactly right when she sat at Jesus' feet, soaking in his presence and every word he had to say.  And this is the very thing I am prone to shy away from, wanting to complete something tangible and being tempted to do something else first (which almost always results in me not spending time with Him at all).  I hate this about myself, and hate that I recognize it every few months and slip right back into the same pattern anyway.

So, I am getting off of the couch to first go read and talk to God.  It's not on my To Do list... but really, maybe it should be.  Maybe it should be the first thing, written at the top in all caps in bold Sharpie.  Maybe then I wouldn't begin days and nights with aimless meandering on the internet.  I don't think God's desire for my life is for me to put Him on a To-Do list.  But if that's how my brain operates, maybe it's a least a place to start falling more in love with Him.

 

Home

I am writing on a plush, reclining loveseat in a lovely room in a gorgeous house.  We are playing with the worship band from our church, The Remedy, at a youth event in Williamsburg, VA.  The youth pastor arranged for us to stay in several host homes close by, and Chris & I along with our good friend Matt are in the home of Paul & Kathy.  And we are overcome by their incredible hospitality. 

They have fed us, baked an incredible dessert (who knew you could put yellow cake mix on top of apples with some sugar and cinnamon and get HEAVEN?!), given us impeccable rooms, time for me to love on their Maine Coon cats, more towels than we could use in a month, and the sweetest encouragements.  They are a beautiful picture of how the body of Christ is meant to work - open doors and open hearts, with no prior knowledge of who we are.  They didn't evaluate us to determine if we'd get along, if we were clean or cool enough, or whether they'd rather have someone else instead.  We were strangers, yet they have brought us in as if we are long lost family. 

Thanks for the reminder of how God welcomes us in, Paul and Kathy.  I hope that we can be encouraged by their unending kindness to show the same lavish welcome to those we entertain.  We may not have all of the same physical amenities to offer someone, but I'd be writing this post even if they lived in a 1 bedroom apartment - their kindness would outshine any mansion they could live in.

3 John 1:5-8

⁵ Dear friend, you are faithful in what you are doing for the brothers and sisters,^[a] even though they are strangers to you. ⁶ They have told the church about your love. Please send them on their way in a manner that honors God. ⁸ We ought therefore to show hospitality to such people so that we may work together for the truth.

C&J's Blog Adventure

Hello, World!


Welcome to Chris & Jenna's Blog Adventure!  Maybe that should be the name for the blog instead of How the Blog Makes You Feel.  Chris isn't home, so my "punny" jokes probably aren't as good right now. (The links will - maybe - show the lame jokes I'm making...)


So, I've been on our couch for about 2 hours watching the Hulu tv shows Chris isn't into (he's at work) and finally sewing things for him that have probably been in my to-do pile for 6 of the 7 months we've been married... and had the sudden thought, "We should have a blog!"  Which sounds more fun than the chore-related things I planned to do tonight... (but maybe not more fun than catching up on The Voice.  or maybe it does.  must weigh this out...)


Today is Thursday, and it's the day after Ash Wednesday.  I grew up Lutheran, so Lent was always a part of my life.  We would sometimes go to church on Ash Wednesday and get ashes on our foreheads.  I remember Wednesday night Lenten soup suppers that the youth group would help carry out (especially the supper when I had tortellini soup for the first time...heaven!!).  It was a time for people to gather together over a simple meal before a service, instead of an elaborate private meal, or paying for a restaurant to cook it, or a rushed family dinner before running off to the next event.  People were generous to work together to combine a few ingredients, spend a bit extra at the grocery store, give a bit of time, and produce a meal that feeds many.  It makes me think of Jesus feeding the 5,000...  He used a few loaves and fish to feed thousands of people, and while He is the one who creates miracles like that, maybe it can be a reminder that when we're willing to give a little bit, many can be blessed.  


Neither of these things were in my mind two nights ago when we pondered whether to give something up for Lent together this year.  Chris had the thought to give up going to restaurants.  My food-loving, greedy belly balked at first.  What if friends wanted to go out to dinner?  What if we wanted to get breakfast together before work?  What if we wanted to go on a date?  What about Spring Break vacation spots?!  But, after a while, my selfish nature backed down (it helped to think about how our President's Day venture to Philly with good friends was a purchased-food field day of greasy glory), and Wednesday morning we set off to work, waving forlornly as we passed Burger King's alluring breakfast sandwiches.  As God has started to open my mind (He is very fond of doing this lately), I can see this is an opportunity for a lot of growth to happen.  It will help us open our home to our friends more and serve them by cooking for them.  It will help us get a bit more practical and plan out all of our meals.  Maybe we'll get more creative with the food we make, so we don't get bored (though I would be shocked if Chris ever turned down a burrito).  Maybe we'll even finally have a Taste For Change meal like we set out to do years ago!  Maybe we'll become better stewards of the income God has blessed us with for the time being.


Lent is a journey, and we had the privilege of kicking it off last night at Grace Fellowship Chapel.  Pastor Ralf Nies put together a "service" of silent meditation stations through which we could travel at our own pace.  What was incredible was that each station held a tactile thing for us to do as we read scripture and prayed - a candle, clay, a stone, water, oil, a cross, communion, and ashes.  The silent space and action through art to help us meditate gave God a wonderful space to speak, and we each heard some great things.  I, especially, feel on the verge of a great journey.  God is calling me to question and listen to what He has in store for our music, for my occupation, for the passions He's placed in my heart, for our marriage... lots of change is possible in the coming months.  If you think of us, pray for unity in decision making and clear paths to be opened!  If there is one thing I know, it's that none of the events of the past several years are things I would have dreamed up for myself, and I have been amazed.  He has been - and will continue to - smooth my rough edges like a stone in a river on its journey to the sea.  


May Lent be an intentional, instrumental part of this journey.  May being willing to give up something small bring about great things.  And may we be humble servants to tell the story to many of what has been done for us, what we have seen, and what we will give up to follow the calling on our life.