One Time in Chicago

Last week the Christian Community Development Association had its annual national conference in Memphis. Since I have a 2 year old and a 3 month old, I was only able to make it to 2 of the night time sessions, but it was a blessing none the less.

Being there among so many who are passionate about social justice issues and urban ministry was a much needed reminder of the things that set my heart on fire. It also made me nostalgic for my time in Chicago with Mission Year.

That year was one of the most difficult and life-changing times of my life. During mission year and for a long time after, I did not have much interest in talking about what I experienced because it was a lot to unpack and took a long time to process.

Mission Year is a year-long immersion program for 18-30 year olds. It is a time to learn how to live out justice by knowing and loving neighbors and advocating for change in our countries most un-loved neighborhoods.

A young and very naive 19 year old Jessica had no idea what she was getting herself into.

I would not have admitted it at the time, but I had a "savior mentality" going into Mission Year. I was confident that I would make a big impact on the problems of the inner city during my time in Chicago. HA!!!

Not only is that a very arrogant and just all around wrong world view, but also that type of mindset set me up for a lot of growing pains right out of the gate.

The neighborhood of Englewood, the city of chicago, and the world that we live in already has a savior and it is not me. I am ashamed to think that I ever believed that I could "help" or "save" anyone in that beautiful community.

Instead, I got to witness the work that God had been doing through some really amazing people in Chicago. I learned a lot about myself and more importantly, God used that time to humble me.

I had the pleasure of living on the south side of Chicago in the Englewood Neighborhood. If you Google Englewood, you will not read anything good. But what I experienced was a community of good, strong people who care about each other and take pride in where they live. People who, despite living in a food desert and in a thick fog of poverty in every sense of the word, were some of the happiest and generous people I have ever known. Their voices were and are struggling to be heard and to receive the equal level of support and care as Chicago's wealthier neighborhoods.

I lived in a 3 bedroom apartment with 5 of the most beautiful souls I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. We were 6 women who could not have been more diverse. We had 6 very different personalities with different backgrounds, races, and opinions. It was a messy time, especially at first, as we learned to navigate our differences, but to this day I cherish those ladies more than they will ever know. They helped mold me and I will be eternally grateful for the impact they had on my life and world view.

I spent that year learning about people's stories. I saw the kind of struggles and heartache that my privileged young mind never even knew existed. I got the wind knocked out of me on a daily basis. It did not take long to realize that I was there to learn and not to save.

I left Chicago with a lot of humility but also a lot of cynicism. I felt so overwhelmed by the pain and cycles of oppression in this world and I didn't really understand what my role in all of it is. Honestly, I still don't.

6 years, a husband, and 2 kids later I find myself trying to balance the call and demands of my daily life (I had to come back to writing this post 4 times because... kids) with the passions and burdens that God engraved on my heart in Chicago.

I went into Mission Year thinking I was going to solve the worlds problems and I came out of it feeling very discouraged and powerless. I've learned over time that powerless is the best place to be. God has all of the power anyway and all throughout time his best work has been done through the powerless.

So now I'm just trying to figure out where He wants me to be. There is a never-ending supply of places to volunteer and service projects to be a part of. That work is important and serves as a constant reminder that God has not forgotten the broken places and people around us. I just have to surrender to my own powerlessness and let Him work.

Heartache and Heartbeats

This update has been a long time coming. I have thought about writing it for a few months now, and it has seemed like an overwhelming task. I have this great fear that the words that I write won't be able to do justice to what this experience was for me and my family. I do think it is a story worth telling, so I will give it my best shot. 

Brandon and I decided last spring that we were ready to have another baby. Neither of us have siblings that are close to us in age and we have always wanted that for our own children. 

I naively believed that the very first time we "tried", that would be that and we would be on our way to baby number 2. After all, we got pregnant with Noah while on birth control so obviously I assumed that Brandon and I have super baby-making abilities. 

Weeeeell... I was mistaken. It did not happen the first month and it didn't happen the six months after that either. By that time, I had turned into a "trying to conceive" monster. 

In my true control freak fashion, I was doing a lot of researching, temperature taking, charting, measuring, and stressing. I was not doing a lot of trusting God to bless us when the time was right. 

Let me take a minute to say that I know seven months of trying is nothing compared to the struggles of some couples. I do not for one second compare myself to those who suffer from infertility and have gone through hell and back to bring a child into their homes. I have a new found respect for those families and I will never again take for granted the ease we had when we were blessed with Noah. Every precious baby that is born is truly a miracle in my opinion.  

In early October to our joy and relief Brandon and I found ourselves staring at a positive pregnancy test. Hallelujah! We were ecstatic! But deep down inside me, for reasons I can't explain, something did not feel right. At the time, I just assumed it was nerves and anxiety that come with pregnancy. I know now that those feelings were preparing my heart for what was coming. 

Just a few days later, our dreams came crashing down. We lost that sweet baby before we got to see an ultrasound, or hear a heartbeat, before we could feel a movement, or pick out a name. It happened quickly and was nearly painless physically. It was early, but it was still a painful loss for our family. We had been hoping and dreaming about that baby for months and it was taken away as quickly as it came.

There were many ways that I felt very taken care of by God through that painful time. I was out of town with Noah visiting family the week before we found out and Brandon wasn't with us. We wanted to be together when we found out whether or not we were having a baby so I waited over a week longer than I could have to take the test. That is a whole lot of time in pregnancy world. That time would have made the loss so much more painful, and I am glad that I didn't know earlier. 

We were also on vacation with my family when the miscarriage started. It was a blessing in so many ways. Brandon was with me for the whole week since he was off work for vacation. We had family around to support us and to take care of Noah while we grieved. I love and appreciate the way God used these circumstances to comfort me and Brandon while we went through the loss of such a precious thing. 

Jump forward one month to the beginning of November. To our surprise, we found out that we were pregnant once again. It came as a shock because there had been no planning, charting, temp taking, etc. Imagine that! The one month that I didn't plan, it happened. Maybe God was trying to tell me something. 

I started going to a new doctor just before I found out I was pregnant. I was excited to find out that I could go in early, because I was anxious to know that everything was ok after what had just happened. I went in for an ultrasound at just under 5 weeks.  

The doctor couldn't see anything other than the gestational sac on the ultrasound. So she scheduled me for another ultrasound a week later. I wasn't too worried since it was so early, but the doctor seemed somewhat concerned.  The next week they told me again that they only saw a gestational sac. This was more concerning, because there should have been some change.

The doctor told us that the pregnancy was "non-viable" and scheduled me for a d&c the next day. She said that I could be having an ectopic pregnancy and that my life was in danger. I tried to ask about other options, but she made me feel like if I waited I would be putting myself at great risk and pressured me into consenting to the d&c. We were devastated once again.

All night long Brandon and I wrestled with what to do. We just didn't feel good about the diagnosis she made. There were several things that didn't add up. I was still so early. They didn't try any other tests to rule out an ectopic pregnancy. The ultrasound tech did not spend very much time looking for the baby. Brandon and I and a lot of people we love prayed hard over our decision. 

We decided to get a second opinion. I scheduled an emergency appointment with another doctor the next day and cancelled the d&c. If another doctor told us the same thing, we decided we would do what they said. 

At the new doctor, they took us for an ultrasound right away. The ultrasound tech had no idea why we were there, and she just went about her business. The first words out of her mouth were, "Here's your baby, and here is the HEARTBEAT"!!! I don't even know what words to use to describe my feelings. It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. 

I have never been able to say that I hear the voice of God speaking to me regularly but there have been some key moments in my life that I know were guided by Him. This was definitely one of those times. I am not one to disregard the advice of a medical professional. I have always trusted that they know more than I do. If we had listened to what this doctor said, we would have unknowingly allowed her to abort our healthy child.

I know that Brandon and I were so unsettled about what to do because God has bigger plans for this baby. Whether he/she is with us for one more day or until he/she is 103 years old I praise God for the gift that this child is. I know that our prayers and the prayers of so many others on our behalf were heard. We felt such peace about our decision to get a second opinion, and I know that peace came from God. 

I have learned so much through this entire experience that began last spring. I learned once again that I am not in control (nor should I be). I learned that God's timing is better than my own. I learned to trust Him in ways that I haven't before. I learned to let Him comfort me in times of loss. Best of all, I learned to praise Him when I don't get what I want and praise Him when he intercedes for me in big ways.  

Every bit of the glory in this situation goes to God. It was not a doctor or my judgment that saved our baby. It was his/her creator. 

Internet Warfare

"Oh be careful little mouth what you say. 

For the Father up above is looking down in love 

so be careful little mouth what you say"

We all have our opinions about the hot button issues circulating through our culture. And we all feel passionate about our opinions on these issues. Ask me any day at any time and I will happily talk your head off for hours about my specific opinions. 

As a mother I am passionate about: birthing methods, vaccinations, spanking, nutrition, sleep habits, education... and as a person I am passionate about:  race relations, welfare, abortion, guns, war... etc.

Fortunately for everyone I am not going to talk about the details of my opinions on these or any topics (even though all of my opinions are absolutely correct, of course!) I kid! 

I had no idea before Noah was born the kind of war zone I was entering into. When I became a mother, some sort of savage beast was awakened in me that I didn't even know existed. Moms are crazy! We will claw your eyes out if you cross us about which brand of car seat is best for sweet little Johnny's safety.  

We feel so strongly about the choices we make regarding our children because we all desperately want what is best for them. It is hard not to get caught up in the details of the choices we make and it's hard not to judge the choices of others when we don't agree with them. 

It's not just moms though. The internet has created a frenzy of heated and often horribly rude debates about anything from presidential candidates to which Kardashian is the hottest. 

Social media has become a unique atmosphere that allows us to say and do things that we would never say or do in "real life". Here are a few little gems from one of the most recent viral debates.

Karla Ungurean-King Her pretty little head would look great on my wall. Don't worry, I'll give her meat to needy animals.

Like · Reply · 629 · July 2 at 12:25am

Jessica Kay Clark Let's hunt for her together 

Like · 47 · July 2 at 12:41am

Filomena Iria I hope to see a post of your dead body soon... With a smiley Lion standing next to you 

Like · Reply · 101 · July 2 at 6:10pm

Katrina Ralphson I think you are the ugliest person on the planet. Inside and out

Like · Reply · 73 · July 2 at 3:57pm

Sadly these are some of the nicer comments on this topic. 

What in the world? There are 629 "likes" about mounting a persons head on a wall. When did this become an acceptable way to communicate our opinions?

Most of the craziness I read online is written by people I don't know and have never met before. However, I am occasionally shocked and disappointed by people I do know and look up to because of things said or done on social media.  

I am humbled at the thought that I too may have shocked or disappointed someone who looks up to me because of my words on the web. 

There is a time and a place to speak truth and stand up for what you believe in. But that time and place is almost never on the internet. Especially if your words are laced with sarcasm, hatred, or death threats.

As someone who is trying to be the hands and feet (and mouth) of Jesus it is not acceptable to harass or insult anyone based on their political, social, religious, or any other persuasions. 

I am going to try to hold myself accountable for staying away from the online drama. I want my actions to speak louder than my words. 

I would much rather make someone feel loved and valued than to win an argument by tearing them down. 

What if my words would make the difference between someone seeing God or just seeing another angry online comment? 

What if I am the last straw for someone in their decision to give up on faith?

I claim to be a child of God. My actions, encounters, and words should be a reflection of his love for me. Having the last word is not as important as sharing that love.

If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love, I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing.  -1 Corinthians 13:1-2

What Do You Do?

Let me start by saying that this is not going to be a rant about how stay at home moms do more work than anyone in the world. I'm not here to argue if it is harder to be a working mom or to stay home with the kids. They are both hard and it really shouldn't be a competition. Some moms choose to work. Some work because they have to and some choose to stay home. I respect all of those choices. We are all just moms trying to do what is best for our families. Mad props to all moms! Working, stay at home, part-time I love you all!

I just want to talk about where I'm at in my life right now and how I feel about it. I get asked "what do you do?" and "So, when are you going to finish school?" on a weekly basis. I would love to just put it all out there in hopes that someone else that is in my situation might be proud to answer instead of feeling like they have to make up excuses for why they stay home with their kids or haven't finished school yet.

In the spring of 2008 I graduated from Harding Academy. I was young and naive and I knew exactly what I was going to do with the rest of my life. Ha! 

The plan was:  I would to go to Lipscomb University and room with 7 of my best friends. I would graduate promptly in 4 years with a bible degree emphasizing in Mission work. After college I would travel the world for a couple of years and then settle down with someone and enjoy the married life for 4 or 5 years before becoming a mother. Awesome plan right?

Now, let's take a look at what the last 6 years of my life actually looked like...

I did go to Lipscomb and live with my 7 friends for one year. Then I went to Chicago to live in the inner-city and participate in Mission Year. I took classes online with Eastern University, but I learned way more than I could have imagined through the people that I lived and worked with than I ever could have learned in school. That year changed my path in so many ways but I will save all of that for a later post :) After Mission Year I moved back home to Memphis. I started school at the University of Memphis and a few months later met the man of my dreams. We fell in love and got married 15 months later. During that time I majored in social work, early education, and then finally nursing. I ended up with a degree in none of those things. I spend my days hanging out with this guy.

You know I can't resist an opportunity to share a picture of this guy :)

My plan changed a lot from what I thought it was going to be when I graduated high school. I value higher education but I do not believe that my self worth is affected by whether or not I have attained a college diploma or earn a paycheck in the workforce. 

When people ask me if I have finished school and I tell them not yet a glimpse of pity flashes across their face. Poor girl had an unplanned pregnancy and it threw her life off track. 

My life might not look like the plan I made up when I was 18 but there is nothing sad about it. I made the decision to take a break from school. I am blessed with the opportunity to stay home with my child. I don't take this blessing lightly. 

It makes me sad that my decision gets misconstrued into the idea that I am missing out on something that I could have had.

I get to use my God-given gifts every day. I believe that this is what I was made to do. I have dreamed of being a wife and mother for as long as I can remember and I am living out my dreams. I am very fulfilled in what I do. I have not sacrificed my potential. 

I am very happy and content with my life. I still make plans for the future but I am also really excited to see what God's plans are even if they don't look anything like mine. I pray that I will always be content with what I am doing whether that is staying at home with my kids, finishing school one day, or working outside of the home.

A Letter to Noah

  

Noah B,

Happy first birthday sweet boy! There is so much that I want to tell you about my love for you and how much you are valued. This first year of your life has been incredible! You are so loved by so many wonderful people but let me take a moment to tell you about my love for you.

The day you were born was one of the best days of my life! It was so exciting to wake up that morning knowing we were going to meet you that day. The hospital waiting room was completely taken over by our family and friends that came to wait for you. We were totally overwhelmed by the huge number of loved ones that came to show us love and support. We knew right then that you were a special guy to be so loved by so many! 16 hours of labor and 1 c-section later and there you were.

That first night in the hospital was surreal. Everyone told me that I should send you to the nursery so I could get some rest, but I didn't listen. I had only just met you and I could not let you go. Shortly after all of the visitors left, your dad went to sleep and I just laid there staring at you. You were perfect. It was a crazy night filled with tears, (probably more mine than yours) learning how to nurse, and no sleep at all. That quiet, dimly lit, hospital room was where I began falling in love with you.

I love the way you look. You are such a wonderful mixture of all of the best traits of our family. You have the most beautiful little face. Your beautiful blue eyes have the power to melt my heart. I love your sweet pouty lips and even that gigantic head of yours :) 

I love the way you laugh. Your giggles brighten my day and your cries break my heart!

I love your laid back personality. I love how you just go with the flow.

I love your curiosity and the way you are always quietly trying to figure things out.

I think its hilarious the way you get nervous when there are a lot of people around but after you warm up to everyone you want to be the center of attention. 

I love it when you bring me your toys and books to play with you.

I love singing to you.

I love watching your face light up when your dad comes home from work. 

I love seeing that big smile on your face when I come into your room every morning to get you out of bed.

I love watching you get so excited when you see a dog.

I love that you love music and stop what you are doing to dance every time you hear any song. 

I love watching you sit in your bed talking to yourself after you wake up from a nap. 

I love your sweet gentle heart heart. I love the way you see the world.

I love everything about you. Even when you are challenging you are still my second favorite person in the whole world. 

God blessed me beyond my wildest dreams when he made me your mommy. You make the world a better place just by being here. God has given you so many wonderful gifts and traits. I am so proud of who you are already and I can't wait to see who you become! You are here for a reason. You have a special purpose. I can't wait to see what God has in store for you.

My prayer for you is that you become a man of God. I pray that you develop a personal and intimate relationship with Jesus. I pray that you will be kind, loving, strong, and gentle like your dad. I hope that you will be a leader. That you will be humble. That you will admit when you are wrong and learn from your mistakes. I pray that you will stand for truth, seek justice, and act as a peacemaker wherever you go. I pray for you to know your purpose and stay close to God's plan for your life.

You will never know or understand the love that I have for you! There is nothing you could ever possibly do that could make me love you any less. Thank you for bringing us so much joy, laughter, tears, and happiness.

Love,
Your Mama

A Year of Motherhood

Well, It's official! I am now the mother of a great big 1 year old. The tiny, squirmy, bundle that we brought home from the hospital has turned into a toddling, talking, little person with a great big personality and the sweetest smile I have ever seen.

How is this possible? I still don't even feel like a real grown-up yet and now I have a little person that calls me Mama. My heart nearly explodes every time that word comes out of his mouth.

Being that little boy's mama is one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me. It's humbling, and messy, and beautiful, and exciting, and so many more things. I know my role as a mother will look different as he gets older but for now I have compiled a list of what it means to be a mother of a one year old.

It means...

1. Getting great big (mouth wide open) slobbery kisses
2. Finding Cheerios in your hair, purse, car... and my favorite crushed in 1 million pieces right after you step on them.
3. Reading the same book 500 times a day 
4. Wiping snot with your bare hands
5. Listening to the most annoying children's CD in the car on every fussy ride
6. Applauding every time he performs and amazing trick (i.e. announcing how old he is)
7. Hiding remotes and phones to avoid the ridiculous tantrum that ensues if he is denied them
8. Watching the same episode of Baby Einstein for the 909807783278978th time
9. Family dance parties (we all have some pretty sweet moves)
10. Having to say things like "Noah, please do not eat my hair."
11. Cleaning up mashed vegetables off of my face after he spits them at me
12. Enjoying every second that he sits still in my lap 

I could go on and on. This year of motherhood was made up of so many little moments. Precious, silly, disgusting, fun, exhausting moments. 

A lot of people told me in the first few months of Noah's life to "enjoy every minute of it". At the time "enjoying every minute" of projectile poop, all-night crying fests, and breast-feeding horrors was laughable to me. Honestly I would probably feel the same way if I were doing it all over again right now but looking back it went by a lot faster than I thought it was going to.

The lesson that I feel like God is trying to teach me right now is that our lives are made up of these little moments. The good and the bad. I am learning to appreciate all of it. 

Whether I enjoyed it or not I am thankful for every minute that God has allowed me to spend with that little boy and I don't want to take any of them for granted.

Will I ever tell a new mom to "enjoy every minute of it"? Definitely not but I will say that it only takes a year to learn that you have be intentional about appreciating those minutes because before you know it they are over. 

Losing Control

I find it hard to openly talk about the struggles that I have not yet conquered. However, I think those are the struggles I should be talking most openly about. And since I claimed to be real about my faith in this blog, let's get real.

Before I was married, I did a lot of things that many people considered reckless. I spent several weekends alone in Nashville's Tent City, I lived a year of my life in one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Chicago, and I frequently gave rides to those who stand on sidewalks holding signs. I'm sure even years later beads of sweat are welling up on my parent's foreheads as they read this (Haha! You are welcome guys!).

I say all of this, not to brag about my past endeavors, but to portray how I completely released control of my life into God's hands. During that time I was called naive, thoughtless, and even stupid. Say what you must, but I am proud of that girl. I struggle every day to hold on to even just a piece of her.

Something happened to me when I fell in love. For the first time in my life, I knew what it was like to worry about the life of someone else. This fear progressed as time went on and I have to admit that at certain points it has gotten out of control.

I built walls and decorated them with false perceptions of my control over the well being of my loved ones. The walls served me well until one day when a truck came crashing into them.

One September day Brandon and I (14 weeks pregnant) picked my brothers up from school. On the way back we took a detour to show them a house we were thinking about buying and we had a "little collision" with a truck. And by "little collision", I mean this happened.

At first glance everyone seemed shaken up but generally ok. Then I looked down and saw every pregnant woman's worst fear. I was bleeding.

Within a few short minutes I went from chatting it up with my husband and brothers to riding in the back of an ambulance trying to hold myself together at the prospect of losing the life of the tiny baby that I had already fallen in love with.

The next several hours were some of the longest of my entire life. Doctors and nurses came in and out asking 5 billion questions and throwing around words like "probable miscarriage". People that I love also came in and out to sit with me. No one really knew what to say but I felt loved.

After the longest wait in history we were finally taken to get an ultrasound to find out for sure what I had already come to terms with in my mind.

By the grace of God and to my surprise what I saw on that screen was a perfect little wiggly baby with a very strong heart beat. I have no words for the feelings that washed over me as I stared at that miracle.

God took care of my sweet family and we all went home that night with minor scrapes and bruises. Thankful does not even begin to describe how i felt and still feel. I think about that wreck on an almost daily basis. I look at my beautiful little boy and I thank God that we are graced with his (still wiggly) presence.

I was not prepared for the rush of overwhelming feelings that came when my sense of security and control was ripped away. I am currently still struggling with these feelings. We were all fine that day. But at any minute of any day, we might not be. I worry about this to an unhealthy extent.

What I should be doing is trusting God with my family. I know what the Bible says about fear, worry, and trusting God but knowing it and feeling it are two different things. For good or bad I really do believe that God's plans are better than my own. The problem is that I might not like what he has planned. My conversations with him often go something like this:

Dear God,
Please keep Brandon and Noah safe (in whatever the situation may be).
Of course your will be done.
But really... please just keep them safe.

I can't explain why there is so much hurt in the world. I have watched friends lose loved ones to disease, accidents, and unspeakable tragedies. I have prayed alongside friends and family begging God to act in the way that we want him to. Sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes his plan is not at all what we want. That is where my fears lie.

I want God's plan to go my way. I want to be happily married to my husband until we are 99 years old and at that point we will both die together at the same time in our sleep while holding hands. I want to raise my son and watch him grow into a man and experience all that life has to offer. That may be exactly what God has planned for my family, but as hard as it is for me to even think about, it may not. Either way, it is completely and 100% out of my control.

Even though I now realize my lack of control, I still fight for it daily. I make Brandon text me as soon as he has arrived safely at work in the morning. I vacuum my floors a ridiculous amount of times a week to try to keep Noah from finding things to put in his mouth. I could go on and on.

It's a struggle. Some days are better than others. It helps to share my thoughts and fears with God. I am inspired by stories in the bible like Hannah who gave up her son completely to God.

I think that my goal in reality is to be somewhere in between that girl that I wrote about in the beginning and the one I am now. I have a family now and that changes my ability to be "reckless" with my life but it should not change my ability to give my family to God. To trust him to take care of us and to trust him even if it doesn't go my way.

Maybe you read this and thought to yourself "man that girl is nuts" and you may be right. But if you read this and can relate to my struggle please know that you are not alone. I would love to hear from you. I would love to hear from those who have a better handle on this than I do. Let's be open with each other about the things that are most difficult to talk about. God never meant for us to struggle alone.