GOOD SOIL

Don't Judge Me!!!
 

This is what my grass has looked like for the past year.  In fact, you really cannot even call it grass.  There are green weeds that are growing over dead brown patches of earth.  I wanted to put sod down, but am still recovering from the shock of the price quote.  Honestly, I have never been one to spend much time in the yard, but I decided to seed and fertilize and cross my fingers that in the Spring there will be some green blades. 

Friday after work, I arrived home to find a large truck in my driveway and men spraying some chemicals on the front and back yard.  I walked over to one gentleman and calmly asked him what he was doing.   He smiled and replied, "we are killing everything!"  Oh my gosh..."you were supposed to seed not kill.  How is grass going to grow now that you have poisoned the very soil that was supposed to yield my beautiful lawn?" Obviously, you can see I have no clue about anything.  The worker quickly reassured me that in order for the new seed to flourish they had to kill the weeds and then they would fertilize, water, etc. allowing beautiful new grass to grow.  I smiled as I walked away.  God knew I needed to learn yet another lesson.

But the one who received the seed that fell on good soil is the man who hears the word and understands it.  He produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.

Matthew 13:23

I love the parable of the Sower.  Basically a farmer goes out to sow his seed and depending on the conditions of the soil he is met with success or failure.  Some of the seed fell on the path and was eaten by birds.  In another instance, the seed falls on rocky places and although something grew it withered because it had no root.  Other seed falls among thorns and the plants are choked and die. 

The seed on the path represents those that hear the Lord's message, but do not understand, and so the evil one steals it.  The seed that falls on the rocky places are people that have some growth as a result of God's teaching, but because there is no root it lasts only a short while.  The rocky places are the trouble, strife, and challenges of the world that often make us lose hope.  The person that receives the seed, but allows the thorns representing the worries of life and deceitfulness of wealth, does not bear any fruit.  The verse above points to the fact that we have to have "good soil" in order for God's word to take root and produce a harvest in our lives. 

Goodness...I pray that the current condition of my lawn is not an indication of the fruit I am bearing for The Lord!  For years, I have allowed the rocky circumstances of my existence to kill everything...my hopes, dreams, and relationships.  Brown patches in my soul and thorns in my heart have kept me from experiencing the fullness of God.  The enemy has brought weeds into my garden and I have been too lazy to pull them up.  Do I trust God enough to allow him to take away anyone and everything that is preventing me from bearing fruit for Him?  I don't want to just go through the motions, hearing the sermons, praying the scripture... while the darkness prevents any seed to take root.  It is time to bask in His radiant light, overflow with the living water, and share the mighty harvest with the world. 

MY BROKEN HEART

I fell asleep the other night with my bible crushed tightly to my chest.  This place of complete brokenness is not new to me, and yet I allow my fears to doubt HIS presence in the midst of the heaviness.  So I must remind myself of the path that I have walked...

He was there when I watched my father take his last breath.  As my 12 year old sister and I sat in the chapel trying to gather the courage to go see his shell...He took our hands and gave us comfort.

He was there as I sat in the cold, heartless room watching helplessly as my sedated 4 month old son's brain was scanned.  With every roaring beep of the menacing machine I felt as if a part of me was dying.

He was there as the doctors told us that he was "damaged".  Would he walk or talk?  Tears flowed each and every night as I grieved the loss of my perfect child.  He has put a new song in my heart as I grow to cherish the child that makes me laugh and brings me joy.

He was there when I heard the words "you have cancer."  As I unwrapped the bandages to see the scars that would never go away, shaved the hair that would return, and surrendered the chance to give life in order to save my own...I was never alone.

He was there when the sword of "I don't love you anymore" tore a hole in my existence.  The words "I found someone else and I am happy" crushed my lungs and I could no longer breathe.  The nights of quiet loneliness and questioning days of unhappiness allowed little rest.

He is here as I struggle to find a new normal.  As I watch my teenager's soul twist with the unknowing questions and brutal reality of our life.  He is here with every bill that I pay and every lesson plan that I prepare.  Every prayer that I utter and smile that breaks free is a testament to his strength in the midst of my weakness.

He whispers, "I love you.  I have you.  I will use this pain for my glory.  Bring me every piece of your broken heart and allow me to put it together again." 

This world has NOTHING that can truly comfort the brokenhearted.  You can dull your pain.  You can ignore the ache.  I want to heal.  I want to be transformed.  And so today, I choose God. 

LETTING GO

 

 

During my cancer treatment, I started getting massages on a weekly basis.  There is something about the power of touch that was so peaceful and healing.  The aging process has brought a long list of aches and pains and so I have returned to massage.  I don't like those soft Swedish rubs, I want someone to get in there and work out those knots.  Yesterday, I was met by a soft spoken masseuse that quickly explained to me that his method might be a little unconventional but that I needed to trust him.  As I lay face down on the table, I wondered if I should apologize for the fact that I had not been to the gym for about a year?  Should I mention that I was running late this morning and forgot to run a razor over my legs?  Where do I even begin with these arms?  Did he read my file?  Does he know about my surgeries?  My scars?  I should have taken a chill pill before my relaxing massage.

 

I would have to draw diagrams for you to grasp the crazy things that occurred inside that dimly lit room.  My legs were stretched to my shoulders and at one point I soared like an eagle with my back arched and arms overhead.  There is no way the sheet was covering everything that it should during these elaborate contortions!  Through it all, Jorge (that was his name), kept whispering to me, "Relax and let go."  About halfway through the hour, I realized he was a professional and knew what he was doing and so... I LET GO.  My breathing slowed, my muscles went slack, and for a few precious moments I felt free.

 

As I bow before the throne of my king, I feel so unworthy.  Like a petulant child, I want to make excuses for my disobedience.  I play games with God and plan to show Him only the good inside of me and keep the rest hidden from view.  And then I hear God whisper, "Trust Me.  Relax.  Let go."  God sees all.  Jesus died for my sins and I am washed clean.  I am worthy.  I am loved.  I am forgiven.  I know all these truths, but I  continue to hold tightly to the dirty, rotten, sinful, painful, and negative parts of life.  I stay trapped in a cage of my own making.  For me, letting go is not some beautiful process where I stand on a mountain side and release a thousand butterflies signifying my transformation.  Letting go is a daily, dirty struggle.  I chose trust over fear.  I hug forgiveness and release bitterness.  I grab life over death.   There is only one thing that I refuse to let go of during my walk here on earth...Jesus.  And that is all I really need. 

The Gift of Forgiveness

I have been stuck for years going around and around the same issues.  My hands are clenched and my heart is closed as I steel myself against the constant pain.  Prayers for grace and mercy are lifted up, but still I feel nothing. 

Ephesians 4:31-32  Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice.  Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.

Ugh!  Read it again and let's take a closer look.  When someone wrongs me I am bitter and angry. I call every friend that will answer the phone and share the entire story bit by bit trying to make the person that dared to cross me look as bad as possible.  I wallow in the hard feelings and marinate in the madness.  My soul cries for healing and peace, and yet I continue to feed it nothing but retribution and revenge.  Let's see what God says about revenge.

Romans 12:19-20 Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written:  "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," says the Lord.  On the contrary:  "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.  In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head. "

Clearly God wants us to leave the judgment to him, and we are advised that the kindness we display might "heap burning coals" and result in the person repenting from any wrongdoing.  I want to be forgiven so I must forgive others.  But what do I do when I don't FEEL like I can't push away the hurt and forget what has occurred in my life? Recently, a wise woman shared a powerful prayer with me.

You can put the name of any individual in the place of YOU....or even start praying to let yourself off the hook for the past.  Repeat this every morning and evening and prepare for the miracles.

I forgive you completely and freely.
I release you and let you go.
So far as I am concerned,
The incidents that happened
between us are finished forever.
I wish the best for you.
I wish for you your highest good
And I hold you in the light.
I am free and  you are free
and all again is well between us.
Peace be with you.

Will you accept the gift of forgiveness today? 

MY OWNER'S MANUAL

I recently purchased a new car. As the sales person reviewed the essential information I nodded to indicate I understood all the industry jargon.  Just to be clear,the car is a Ford Edge, but to me it was something out of a James Bond movie.  My phone was synced and my vehicle could call anyone in my contacts.  No keys had to be used to start the engine.  Seats could be folded, the trunk opened, and endless XM radio stations experienced all with little effort.  This girl was on fire!!! 

The first morning as I headed to work, I pushed a button to turn the radio on.  I heard the voice of my sleeping sister Nicole croak "Good Morning."  "Why are you calling me at 7 in the morning?" I questioned.  "You called me," she replied. "I was just trying to turn on the radio...I don't know how the heck the car called you!"  All I heard was a groan and a loud click.  I rode the rest of the way to work in silence afraid to touch anything. 

After a month or so of traveling happily in my new wheels, I encountered another odd occurrence.  Whenever I would come out after work, I would touch the door and the car would automatically unlock.  I was certain I locked the doors and so I discussed this issue with several of my coworkers.  Each afternoon as I approached my car, the mere presence of my hand (no keys involved) and the doors would unlock.  I could not have people breaking into my Ford Edge and stealing my top secret lesson plans, so I conducted several experiments.  Bryan tried to open the door and it remained locked.  Sara met me one morning and witnessed me locking the car and then she tried to open the door and... it unlocked.  I was near her when this happened so I became convinced my car knew me.  I had not been with Bryan during that test, and therefore, the car had not allowed him entrance.  Damn this car was awesome!!!    That weekend, as I cleaned out my lunchbox, I noticed a futuristic button device (I don't know what it is called) that had been given to me by the dealership.  I consulted the manual and discovered that there is something that is in the door handle that allows anyone that is in possession of the strange button device to walk up to the car, put their hand on the door handle, and wham the door unlocks.  Ashamed and a little embarrassed, I had to return to school and explain to many of my coworkers that my Ford had no intuitive powers allowing it to recognize its' owner. Bummer.

There are so many people (me included) walking around dazed and confused by this complicated world.  We create plausible  scenarios and excuses to explain why our lives are just not working.  Sometimes we even invite other people into our mess hoping that they will bring us clarity.  Each of us will live a life that is filled with limitless magic and blessings, and yet much like me and my car, we refuse to consult the Creator when we are in need.  Read your owner's manual- THE BIBLE.  God knows every answer before you ask the question.  You will never get lost.  You will never be locked out of His kingdom.  His doors are open and He is simply waiting for you to take a ride. 

A BETTER JAMIE

I will push her too far one day.  The drama, self-pity, emergency phone calls, neediness, and incessant complaining will finally wear her down.  Some things I will never understand this side of heaven. At the top of my list of earthly mysteries is... how in the heck did I find another human being that willingly identifies herself as my best friend?  Just keeping it real here...most days I don't want to even hang out with myself. 

Do you remember the scene from the movie As Good as it Gets, when Jack Nicholson utters the words "You make me want to be a better man" to his love interest?  Jack's character is an obsessive- compulsive and has decided to take medication so that he can have a healthy relationship.  Often times our desire to "be better" is born out of our need to find love and acceptance from others.  My best friend has taught me a precious gift...I don't have to do anything to be worthy of her love.  It has been a constant in my life for over 20 years and our bond has grown stronger with the passage of time.

I tried to be the wife I thought my husband needed, the perfect mother for my boys, a peacekeeper in my family, the grateful cancer patient, the kind of teacher that every student will adore.... and guess what?  I failed in each and every one of those situations.  If I am brutally honest, in most of those relationships I was far too focused on myself.  It is as if I was looking in the mirror at my own reflection and constantly asking myself, how you doing?  Pain and loss has taught me that my own assumptions are not good indicators of my success or failures.  I have also found out the hard way that using others flawed interpretations have not enabled me to "be a better" Jamie.  What is a messed up girl to do?

I strongly believe that what has made my relationship with my BFF survive is that God is at the center of it all.  We use tough love, prayers, scripture, more prayers, sermons, more scripture to lift each other up out of the pit.  Trouble is all around us and so we stand back to back, swords raised, ready to do battle.  As I struggle to meet the demands of the roles and responsibilities in my life, I must put God in the center.  Daily I pray for less of me and more of Him to be revealed.  People and their expectations exhaust me, but God's truth excites and empowers me.  He is the only one that can and will transform me, and I am so blessed to have a friend that will not allow me to settle for anything less.

School is out!!!

I am the teacher.  I am the only person allowed to write on the white board in the front of the class.  I don't have to raise my hand to speak.  Everyone has to be quiet and listen to me.  My name is on the door and I alone have access to the red emergency bag required during all fire or severe weather drills.  My desk is the biggest one in the room.  I already passed 7th grade, so what do I have to learn? 

 By the end of the year, I confess that I grow weary.  School ended on Friday the 28th and on Saturday I was at the doctor's with a fever and strep throat.  I have a mere three weeks to recharge  before I must return to the arena.  Make no mistake, it is a battle to motivate 12 and 13 year olds to do anything other than text and make vines. I cannot say for certain how many of my students will recall anything of value from our time together, but I refuse to start another school year without reflecting on what I LEARNED from the 120 young people that touched my life. 

1.  There is no such thing as a "regular" child.  No single lesson or teaching strategy will resonate with every student.   There were moments that took my breath away when I witnessed the brilliance and maturity that many possessed.  However, there were many boys and girls that wanted nothing to do with me.  They barely made eye contact and refused to share anything about themselves with the class.  Some were fearlessly unique while others painfully tried to be accepted.  I fell in love with the boys that couldn't keep track of a pencil or a sheet of paper and girls that organized every assignment with an elaborate filing system.  At times I felt like Jane Goodall hiding in the jungle trying to figure out what I might have in common with the species known as a middle school student. I made some breakthroughs and recorded my findings in my writing journal...but there is much work still to be done.

2.  Children are completely different at school then they are at home.  I am the mother of a 13 year old boy.  I love when he comes home and uses the following excuses with me..."the teacher did not tell us the homework.  Mom, she just does not like me.  I wasn't the one talking, but I got silent lunch because the teacher doesn't like me.  Everyone in the class failed the test because the teacher stinks."  I truly believe that Jake thinks these statements are true.  I listen to him and try to help him problem solve and accept responsibility for his actions.  As our children grow up and enter the work force, they are not always going to get along with every coworker and boss they encounter.  Jake wants me to swoop in and save him from the "nasty, inept educator"...but I have been on the other side.  I had a student tell me that she thought everything that I was teaching was a waste of time and so she was not going to try. I explained that every experience in life has something to teach us.  It is not about the lessons or units I cover in class, it is about the students growing as independent learners.  Sometimes I just wish that parents understood that their children are perfectly imperfect... and that is okay.  Advocate and support your child while at the same time showing your children how to respect every person that crosses their path and how to grow from every situation...even 7th grade Language Arts:)

3.  Children need to be taught how to LOVE.  I am shocked and astounded by how mean young people are these days.  I am sure it has always been this way, but now our thoughts and feelings are published for the world to see.  Bullying is REAL, and the majority of bullying is taking place outside of school.  I lectured and lectured, but still heard about young people posting ugly messages about their peers.  One day I was having a class discussion about the power of love and hate.  Almost all of my 120 students sadly believed that HATE is more powerful than LOVE.  I was speechless.  I asked them to explain their reasoning.  One young man said to me something like...it is so easy to hate.  It is like jumping into a pool and getting wet.  But love is like having to dry off.  It takes effort to get the towel and wipe your body and hair and...it is just easier to stay wet. I don't know why I was in shock.  Look at any magazine, television show, website, etc. and you will find people being mocked.  I took a poll and most students could tell me about Adolf Hitler or details about 9/11, but knew little about Gandhi, Mother Theresa, or a local charity doing good work in their community.  I want to embrace LOVE in my classroom.  I will let you know how this new initiative turns out next year.

4.     There is not a television show out there that is as REAL as what is happening in the lives of my students.  One of the teachers on my team always says she wishes that we could have a camera follow us on any given day.  I feel so ill equipped to handle some of the issues that arise in the lives of these young people.  Some of it is just "drama" but it is real to them and offers a teachable moment.  Some days I have to soothe a child with special needs that is upset his rocket did not work in technology class, talk to a group of students that decided they don't want Sally to sit with them at lunch, deal with a parent that is upset about a grade their child received, talk to a boy that is inappropriately harassing a fellow female student, grade a heartbreaking essay about a child that is dealing with divorcing parents, and that is all before lunch!!!  I am not telling you this because I want you to think I am awesome (although you can think that if you want) I want every adult to understand what our young kids really need from us.  STOP AND LISTEN.  What they desire most from me is to know that I care about them.  They want me to be interested in their soccer games, and dance recitals, and what they did at the sleepover they had over the weekend.  We talk about books they have read, movies they have seen, and music they love.  I am far from a perfect teacher or parent, but one thing my students have taught me is that they want to be heard.  They don't want to sit in a chair and listen to me ramble on for an hour.  As I am working on my lesson plans for next year, I am making sure I allow time to just sit back and hear the voices of my students.

On July 29th, I will meet a new batch of 7th graders.  I have been hired to teach them about reading, writing, grammar...etc. but they will not be the only ones learning.  I will keep you posted during my new journey. 

ANOTHER EXCERPT FROM THE UNTITLED AND UNCOMPLETED NOVEL

Summer 1988

I squinted into the blazing sun from the deck of our beach house and smiled smugly.  The eighties had been kind to me.  I stood at 5’9”, sixteen years old, sporting a pair of double D’s threatening to escape the top of my bathing suit. My dark hair was a mass of curls that hung down past my shoulders and survived the endless onslaught of teasing and hairspray. Thanks to my Italian heritage my skin was tanned to a golden brown. I drove a brand new candy apple red car, had a steady boyfriend, and parents that spoiled me.  I fantasized about becoming a beauty pageant contestant and using my talent as a public speaker to change the world.  I had always been bigger than the other girls and continued to struggle with my weight and self- image, but I was certain the next diet I tried would do the trick.  My endless pursuit of perfection was the only aspect of my teenage life that I could control, and so it became my obsession. 

In the distance I could see my father sitting on the beach.  He would spend hours plopped down on a chair reading some enormous book of poetry, art, sports, or whatever interested him at the moment.  He refused to wear sunglasses and would hunch over the pages and squint uncomfortably struggling to read the words in front of him.  My sisters sat close by watching and waiting until the sweat began to puddle on the pages and smear the words.  It was at that moment when he would suddenly jump up and race toward the ocean. We would attack him in the waves splashing and laughing as we all soaked up his warmth.  I noticed my mother trying hard to balance the enormous bag of food, drinks, and towels she was carrying down the long staircase that led to the sand.  She distanced herself outside of our circle of fun as if something was holding her back. She could never compete with the star of the family, and so meeting the needs of others gave shape to the minutes of her existence.   Always the caretaker, she prepared our favorite tuna fish sandwiches including a bag of chips and a soda for each of us. 

My boyfriend gently touched my back as we walked hand in hand toward the promise of the day giggling over the few stolen kisses we had shared the night before.

I could feel his adoration as our eyes met.  I was living my teenage dream and I somehow felt as if I

deserved it all. I eagerly awaited the action filled scenes in my own coming of age adventure.   I was

young, beautiful, cherished, and destined for greatness. 

I could have never imagined as I walked with ease into the summer sun that it would all be taken away.

Missing you today Dad xoxoxox

SENDING LOVE

Praise be to the Lord, for he showed his wonderful love to me...

                                                            Psalm 31:21

 

 

I have been blessed by the way that God is using people to shower me with love.  My friend Laura took me to her mountain house for the weekend.  I giggled, read, shopped, and felt the warmth of friendship.  As we soaked in the glorious hot tub overlooking the breathtaking mountains, I heard the twinkling stars whisper, "you are loved." 

 

Grant skipped happily into his Sunday School class ready to play with Miss Becky.  Jake and I nervously walked down the hall of the enormous church.  My own fear made me doubt if visiting this church was the right move for our family.  In an instant, I spotted my neighbor and friend Renee.  Jake has known her son since kindergarten, and so the teens walked to class together.  I smiled knowing that he would not be alone. We simply showed up, and God used others to display His unfailing love.

 

A card in the mailbox, an unexpected text from my sister in New York, a hug from one of my favorite teachers at work.  What may seem like small gestures to some, feel like heavenly embraces to me.  I have done NOTHING to deserve these daily gifts. Over and over Jesus has revealed his desire to love and meet the needs of those who call out to him. 

    

 

If you are feeling stuck (as I often do) speak a simple prayer of thanksgiving for the individuals that show you LOVE.  Love that asks for nothing in return...love that comes with no strings attached...love that is unconditional.  Not everyone is lucky enough to know somone that fits this description, but we all have access to the ONE that pours out lifechanging love.  If you are reading these words, I am sending you just a fraction of the love that is waiting for you.  

 

 

 

 

 

LOOKING FOR JOY

 

 

The rays of light beaming into my bedroom remind me that another magical Spring morning awaits.  As I sit up in bed, I notice the never ending pile of laundry that can no longer be contained by the hamper. I look away only to glimpse the stack of bills demanding to be paid. I glide over to the window and lift the dusty blinds only to hear the dead grass snicker, "Try to plant something Jamie. You will never win."  Horrified I rush to the bathroom to discover soap scum and some black stuff in the shower that will not be defeated by any scrubbing bubbles.  And then there are last year's shorts stacked neatly and patiently waiting...knowing that the weatherman is predicting 80's this week...the time has come.  Mental note..."After I make the boys breakfast gotta head to Target to buy some new shorts.  Hmm, I wonder if anyone will notice if I buy the maternity ones?"

I don't know when my life stopped being fun?  Somewhere in the midst of children, marriage, illness, divorce, debt, and responsibilities I have lost the ability to feel joy.  In fact, I am not sure I even know what the word means anymore.  I was sharing with a high school friend how frustrated I was with myself. He said something that made me laugh until I cried..."Stella got her groove back, so Jamie needs to get her joy back!"  At that moment, I realized that the choice was mine.  No matter our circumstances, we can indeed find joy.


I have faith.  I know God.  He loves me.  I pray.  I read.  I study.  But, do I rejoice?  Do I laugh?  Do I thank God for all of my blessings?  How can I live beyond the details of reality to find my joy? I am certain that joy cannot be found in people, places, or things.  However, when I allow God to guide and direct my path I am blessed by who and what he uses to bring real meaning to my life.  I have set forth a challenge to myself...dwell in those places that make me smile...be surrounded by individuals that bring light to my soul.  Today...jumping on the trampoline with my boys. 



 

I'm Back!!!

The sun is shining, birds are chirping, and I am smiling.  I have missed writing so much over the past few months.  I visited a new church this weekend and the pastor said, "if you are really good at excuses you are probably not good at anything else."  I am REALLY good at making excuses. 

One of my dreams has been publishing a book.  I have allowed fear and doubt to keep me from at the very least getting "my story" on paper.  I thought it would be appropriate that my first post for 2013 should be an excerpt from my untitled never to be finished book.  Tell me what you think...it starts off sad, but I know there will be a happy ending.

Whether you turn to the right or to the left your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, “This is the way, walk in it.”     Isaiah 30:21

****

I am worn out and tired having been handled far too roughly by this world.  I resemble one of those dirty and torn dollar bills that a clerk slyly passes to you during a transaction.  Sure the money is still useful and has value, but you hide it in the bottom of your wallet ashamed of its ugliness. Who is to blame for my condition?  I have wasted years grieving over painful situations and people I believe failed me.  I am tortured day and night by the fact that this is not how it was supposed to be. Just like that tattered dollar, perhaps I would be more comfortable tucked away and hidden.  The darkness of the pit calls out to me and so I take the slightest movement over the edge.  As I close my eyes and breathe deeply, I hear sweet voices calling out to me.  Should I trust their words of comfort and love, or disappear into oblivion?  Far in the distance, I recognize the familiar steps along the dark roads that I have traveled.  Fearing I would not survive, I have moved through all of my days with a frantic rush anticipating my breakthrough just around the bend.  Now as I stand at the end, I discover that I missed the lessons that were hidden in each experience.  Can I go back and reconnect the dots of my fragmented journey and have it all make sense?   Do I release the past and move forward hoping that I am stronger and wiser simply because I have survived? This is my final goodbye to what might have been as I claim what IS.  The person that I created has been stripped bare of everything. And yet, I have been given a precious gift…a second chance for it all to be different.  This is the beginning of me.