Thoughts of a Little One.

Today I am lovin'.

2011-05-04T03:01:00.000-07:00

These pigtails.

On this little peanut...

...alongside her little partner in crime.

Being Auntie Jenna.
Divine.

How the Caged Bird Sings.

2011-05-04T02:50:00.001-07:00

This may seem inconsequential to you. It is, I admit. But lately certain habits of my days have struck me as odd though to me they have become completely normal. One of those habits I must endure repeatedly, everyday, all day, is locking and unlocking of an insane amount of doors, gates, and locks of all shapes and sizes. It is one of the joys of living somewhere where security is, well, not so secure. My cottage (as well as ALL buildings on our property) are currently sportin' what is fondly referred to as “Burglar Bars” on all windows and doors which on occasion makes me feel like I am locked inside a bird cage. It is nice to feel safe, but also a little disconcerting. To add to your insights into the oddities of my life, let me demonstrate for you an average day (laundry day that is) of my key usage.

(Morning)

Unlock front door.

Unlock Gate on my front door...(freedom).

Unlock gate on Laundry shed.

Unlock Shed door...(start laundry).

Lock Laundry shed door.

Unlock gate on the Jorgensens' back door

Unlock back door...(Chat with the Jorgensens)

Latch Gate to back door.

(An hour later)

Unlock Laundry shed door...(Change laundry cycle).

Lock Shed Door.

*Repeat steps above approximately 6 times.

(Heading to town)

Lock my front door.

Lock my Burglar gate.

Unlock the deadbolt and unlatch front gate to our plot.

Close gate and latch.

(Return from town)

Open and unlatch gate to plot...(Park)

Close latch. Lock Gate.

Unlock Burglar gate to my cottage.

Unlock my front door.

(Evening)

Lock my front door.

Unlatch the J's back door gate.

(Bedtime)

Lock the J's back door.

Lock the Burglar gate to the back door.

Unlock my front door.

Lock my Burglar gate.

Lock my Front door.

PHEW. Locked in my little cage for the night!

I'm exhausted just writing it out. You must know too that this does not include any car keys being used and excluded me forgetting anything...which I ALWAYS do once multiple gates are locked. So strange and yet so normal. Oh, keys, I've got a lot of you.

Beautiful Brokenness.

2011-04-11T05:47:00.000-07:00

In these days, I find myself more and more encountering a raw and heart wrenching reflection of the depth of brokenness in my life and in the lives of those around me whom I love so much. Our world is filled with broken people wandering around declaring passionately how very, “fine” they are. But broken we all still are. We try to hide away these big and small areas in our lives hoping that with avoidance and time the wounds will heal. And yet they don't.

Years ago I heard a story about brokenness that caused my perspective to make a vital paradigm shift. It caused me to have the courage to pull out those areas in my life that really weren't fine and hold them up to the God who makes all things new. Friends, read on in the midst of your brokenness and see if the gentle whispers of our gracious God causes your view to shift too...

The glorious day finally came for the new priest to serve the communion elements to the devote crowds. He readied himself inside and out feeling delight in the privilege he had to be the one appointed for the task. He carefully poured the wine into the ornate, crystal goblet, gently placed the bread on the shimmering silver platter and walked into the sanctuary. The elder priest had just finished unfolding the brilliant truths that were to be commemorated in the Lord's Supper and the new priest quickly took his place at the front of the church right on queue.

The priest ceremonially lifted the silver platter with bread proclaiming with great joy the words of Jesus, “This is my body broken for you, do this in remembrance of me.” The bread was passed down each row and the church was filled with whispers overflowing from hearts of humility and gratitude for the Lamb who was slain in their place. As the last row was served, the priest lifted the ornate crystal goblet of wine high. As He did he proclaimed thankfulness to Jesus for His precious blood that was spilled to cover their sins. At the conclusion of the prayer, the young priest felt his nervous, sweaty hands begin to shake and his once steady grip on this sacred communion cup begin to falter. Without warning the priests now slippery hands lost all hold of the cup and the stunning crystal fell and shattered on the floor in a manner with such drama that the priest was sure that it took a year to finally land.

The entire church fell to a hush as the pieces of crystal tinked along the floor spreading the shards in millions of pieces in every direction. The crowd finally exhaled a united gasp and immediately began to mourn the beauty lost and the failure of the new priest. This sacred goblet had been used for generations during these precious memorial moments and now it was completely ruined beyond repair. The young priest stood stunned at first and as if by involuntary movement lowered himself in humiliation towards the broken pieces that now reflected across the floor his immense failure.

As he closed in on the shards of crystal strewn about the mourning crowd and utter embarrassment seemed to disappear. The young priest at once began to be stilled and captivated by the way that the beams of sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows gently and delicately sending beams of brilliant color across the sanctuary floor. The sunshine shimmered and danced among the millions of shards like a joyous waltz in every direction. The young priest had never encountered such beauty like this in all the world. Just as he had lowered himself involuntary to this place of his failure, he felt the corners of his mouth discover a mind of their own as they curled up into the sweetest and most sincerest of smiles. Tears gently streamed down his face as relief and joy overcame him. What had previously been his most horrific moment of failure now became a reason to rejoice in the beauty that had come out of this brokenness.

As time seem to stand still for this now weeping, smiling priest. He was amazed at the fact that the beauty of the this sacred goblet in its former, whole state failed miserably to compare to the magnified and multiplied beauty that was now so easily evident in each delicate broken piece before him. The young priest became hopefully lost in the beauty of this moment knowing that he would never forget this day. What a surprise to meet such unexpected delight in a moment that should have brought such devastation.

This broken crystal goblet and the captivating nature of each piece is symbolic of how God views each intricate aspect of our brokenness. So often we want to grieve over our moments of defeat and pretend that we can hold things all together or quickly clean up the pieces. The truth is we can't. If you and I would just authentically and openly expose the broken pieces of our lives to the restoring Presence of the Living God, we would witness real beauty from our ashes.

God is more interested in letting our brokenness be a doorway for the breathtaking aspects of His character to be reflected and illuminated. When allowed to, His Presence will majestically shine upon in each piece of our broken lives. To God brokenness is beautiful. It is something He can shine through. It is something He can fully restore. It is a brilliant way that His tender, gentle, and powerful resurrection life can burst through us, giving Him maximum glory. We don't have to be fearful of our brokenness. If in humility we offer the millions of shattered pieces to Jesus, He will faithfully shine His light in and through us bringing beauty from our ashes and wholeness we have never known.

Pearl of Great Price.

2010-11-16T09:20:00.000-08:00

Matthew 13:45-46

Again, the Kingdom of Heaven is like a pearl merchant on the lookout for choice pearls. When he discovered a pearl of great value, he sold everything he owned and bought it!

I may not be a pearl merchant, but I have discovered this pearl of great price.

Today looking out at my a classroom of precious six graders I saw glimpses once again of this priceless treasure. The Kingdom of God gently transforming, fully alive, convincing young hearts that there is another way. As I watched their pens sign purity pledge cards with great conviction and enthusiasm I could see it: The stunning reality of Truth at work. Many days my schedule pulls me in a million directions filled with the mundane and ordinary causing my heart to forget that the Kingdom of Heaven is all around me. It grieves me that I can forget why all of this matters so much. Why this great pearl I have so graciously been led to is completely worth selling my all that I may obtain more then I could ever imagine.

God's Kingdom shines so brilliantly in the ordinary and the extravagant moments of life. Yet, sometimes I miss it. In these days I desire to slow down and truly see it. To remember its worth. To stand in awe and behold its Creator once again. I see it...

In the faces of these young ones who are willing to take a stand for purity in a society and generation who mock the very idea.

In the faith of single church Mothers struggling with diseases and poverty who choose to simply trust God. Who are poor, but are extremely rich in Spirit.

In the courage of youth who rise up in the face of brokenness and take hold of the freedom that was so victoriously purchased for them.

In the sincere, heartfelt speeches of my sixth graders who thanked me for teaching them truth and changing their lives.

It's all because of my beautiful Jesus. It's life covered with the tender and powerful fingerprints of the Almighty. It is the pearl of great price worth my all. It's the Kingdom of Heaven invading today. It overwhelms my heart. What a treasure.

Being Miss Javens.

2010-10-30T02:08:00.000-07:00

It is no lie, I LOVE teaching. I love every little detail about it; the lesson planning, clever “attention-getters,” witnessing AHA moments splashed across young faces, being consistently covered in chalk, marking books with smiley faces, and most of all, I LOVE the kiddos. As much as I adore the fact that God has called me to Africa to teach darling, uniform-clad littles (and youth), lately I have been feeling like a crazy teacher juggling 200 students ranging from 5^th, 6^th, 9^th and 10^th grade. I love it, but most days I am exhausted. Most days I need a little reminder as to why I am performing the one-woman show for the masses, why it is all so terribly worth it.

This week I got it. A little pick-me-up in the form of a letter shyly slid across my table as the author fled the scene.

Its contents are as follows (In its original form):

“Dear Miss Javins,

I am writing this letter telling you how much I love you.

You are the rose of my heart. The first time I saw you, I sat down, took some time to look at your face and your eyes gave me courage. You are as precious as a dimond and your voice is as sweet as a piano. I would like to tell you that you are adorable, always intrigued and captiated lady. You are a great lady who is not afriad of challenges.

Wherever you are, you have my blessing. Even if you are poor or rich, I still love you and you are always smart and persistant. You are such a darling.

I realy love you Miss Javins, Mother, Father and members of your family.

From your Student

Cindy

Ahh, being Miss Javens. (Or “Javins”)...simply divine.

A Teaspoon Kind Of Love.

2010-10-18T10:52:00.000-07:00

I love that our God is a God who speaks. The gentle and piercingly clear echoes of truth penetrate my heart in ways that consistently humble me. When God speaks I am encouraged to my core as His words of truth sweetly breathe life into my innermost being. Recently I was seeking the Lord on behalf of a friend of mine and I heard that gentle whisper say something that seriously shocked me. As I poured out my sincere concerns and fears about this friend before the Lord, I heard the Holy Spirit say to me, “Jenna, I don't NEED you to love them.” What? In disbelief, I kindly directed God to my mental Rolodex of Scriptures where He commands me to love others and humbly asked how this could be. Yet, I heard it once again, “I don't NEED you to love them.”

Now thoroughly confounded I asked the Lord to show me what He meant. In my mind's eye He flashed a picture of the most sparkling, beautiful, endless ocean, expanding as far as my eyes could see. God told me to look at the magnificence of the ocean, the sun reflecting upon the water, the roaring waves crashing and yet the stillness in between each set of waves. Trying my best to visually take in all that lay before me, I soon failed. He gently said, “This is like my love.”

The love of God is deeper, wider, longer then we can imagine. It's the kind of thing we can dive into, splash around in and yet never fully comprehend its depths or power. As I looked in wonder at this breathtaking view I began to notice that amongst the fabulously crashing waves were my family, friends, and the people that I love most. The Spirit whispered to my heart once again, “My love is enough for them.”

With sand wriggling between my toes I looked on in wonder and then began to notice I was holding something. Carefully balanced in my hand was a teaspoon filled with water. God spoke to me, “This is like your love.” Taking my eyes off the expansive ocean view I saw this tiny measure of water which now seemed so silly in contrast to the depths of water that crashed so majestically before me. Though my love was sweet and sincere, in comparison to the all-satisfying, never-ending love of God happily dousing my friends and family from head to foot, it seemed unnecessary.

Then God spoke another word that made my spirit stoked. He said, “Jenna, I will LET you love them. As you love others, you will get clearer glimpses of me and my love.” Dropping my teaspoon in abandon I ran into the ocean to join my friends in joy as the waves furiously crashed against me spewing water amongst us all.

As I have let this seemingly peculiar picture and revelation percolate on my heart over the past few weeks, I can see how true it is. God knows that I will never be able to comprehend His kind of love this side of Heaven and so he created relationships. It is the deepest privilege and delight of life to love others. God does not NEED us to love others, He LETS us in it. He desperately wants us to better understand His character and love. His brilliant plan is for those revelations to arise amidst our relationships.

Friends, as you have loved me well, I can honestly say I have gained glimpses of my God...

When you are patient with me and my shortcomings,
you remind me of my God who is utterly patient.

When you demonstrate levels of kindness that make my heart brim with joy,
I am astounded at the kindness of my God.

When you offer me forgiveness,
I encounter afresh God's grace and mercy.

When you walk in humility as my friend,
I understand a sliver more of my Humble King.

When you sacrifice on my behalf,
I am reminded of God's love that led to the ultimate sacrifice of His Son.

When you extend hope,
I am reminded of my God who is the source of all hope.

...I am so grateful for these (and so many more) treasured glimpses of God that you have provided me over the years. 1 John 4:12 says, "No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.” I am humbled when I consider the opportunity I have to love you. Through the brilliance of relationships that God has blessed us with, may we continue to make His love complete and more clearly see our God.

Simple Moments.

2010-10-12T03:03:00.000-07:00

I am a blogging misfit as of late.

I am sorry...more for me then for you.

It is no secret that I love writing and this new trend of reenacting a chicken-with-its-head-cut-off (which is frightening in real life, I have seen it in person, believe me) has caused this love to escape me. This frankly, will not do.

So, I promise I am back. Even if I write short little snippets, I will write. You have my word on it. Ha.

Lately with the craziness of my life consumed by lesson planning and teaching for the masses (and I mean literally, “the masses” I think I am up to about 170 students), I have been struck with the simple little moments that make it all worth it. These seemingly mundane and otherwise insignificant moments that make this little chica squeal inside. When these moments are stirred altogether, they become a recipe that mixes perfectly into a life of rich fullness with the sweetest aroma.

Delectable Moments As of Late...

My nephew Joshua (by choice, age 2) laying his sweet head on my shoulder and patting my arm while we read Martha Stewart's Living together on the sofa. That little fella melts my heart in a hundred million ways.

The youthers playing endless games of Skipbo in sweltering heat while incessantly laughing, chatting, and savoring each others' company. Oh, the delight of family.

The brilliant musical happenings of two of my high school students who agreed to beat box and “free flow” rap for me at break time. “Miss J” got a shout out like you wouldn't believe.

Opening up my birthday packages from home with endless giftings and finding not 1 BUT 4 boxes of Cracklin' Oat Bran. It is the little things people, little indeed.

My 6^th grade darlings presenting me with my birthday present that was a pretty little bag filled with:

3 small bags of chips, 2 oranges, 1 yogurt, 5 sweets, 2 pieces of bubble gum, 2 juice boxes, and exactly $1.12 in coins (in Pula, naturally). Makes you wonder what they all ate for lunch that day, ne? Oh, the sweetness of sincere sacrifice.

Having the joy of busting a' move alongside my fellow African teachers in honor of Botswana Day and Shakira's, Waka, Waka dance. I was rewarded with a, “Well done, Mam, well done,” from my students whose faces were painted with shock. They just never knew I had it in me.

Phone calls on my way to teach from beloved, missed friends at home that have me laughing so hysterically that I look I have been weeping (and if you know me, well, you know I had been) as I go to teach. I am crazy about a hearty laugh.

Countless uniform-clad little African darlings racing to greet me along the path with ear to ear grins. The endless echoes of “Hello, Miss Javens,” across the school yard from squirmy littles.

Befriending Walter-the postman, who waited an hour and a half at the central post office to fetch my birthday packages which seemed to be “lost” and then miraculously “found.” Getting long-awaited birthday packages ON your actual birthday...priceless. Walter, I couldn't have done it without you.

Hearing the mysterious whispers of Hope at the most unexpected times. Sensing unexplainable joy rise up when circumstances in no way warrant it. Sensing the nearness of my God who can't be seen but is at work in powerful, miraculous ways all around me.

These moments make up my life.

This life I have been given... is certainly a good.

God's Word Blows My Mind.

2010-09-08T00:47:00.000-07:00

So, there is the verse that I can't get over. I am totally in love with its consistent ability to blow my mind, shoot adrenaline into my faith-life and make me smile. The thing is God's Word IS living and active and when I found myself waning in the faith department the HS reminded me of this little treasure. Not only that, He dared me to put my name in it and to dream big. He is just good like that.

I know that this verse recounts the glory of the fabulous faith of Abraham but I have found it my goal and prayer that this verse could also be said about me when I am old and gray. For effectiveness sake, I have included my name right next to Abe's (feel free to plug your little name in there too!) as verses 24 promises that the same goes for us if we dare to outrageously believe God. I am in. You?

The Original...
Romans 4:20-22
“Abraham never wavered in believing God's promises. In fact, his faith grew stronger, and in this he brought glory to God. He was absolutely convinced that God was able to anything he promised. And because of Abraham's faith, God declared him to be righteous.”

The “Yes and AMEN to that!” Version...
“[Jenna] never wavered in believing God's promises. In fact, [her] faith grew stronger, and in this [she] brought glory to God. [She] was absolutely convinced that God was able to anything he promised. And because of [Jenna's] faith, God declared [her] to be righteous.”

Obedience is Bliss.

2010-09-03T02:30:00.001-07:00

Living in a house with a 2 ½ year old lends itself quite easily to repeated lessons on the topic of obedience. It is a fact that on any given you day you will undoubtedly hear the words, “Joshua, listen and OBEY,” uttered with forced-patience from the lips of his Mom, Dad, or me, his Auntie. I am finding that obedience sometimes is a funny thing. From the youngest age so many of us form ideas on this slippery little word that relates the action with either reward or punishment. Sadly, obedience tends to become associated with being forced to submit and do the things that we do not want to do.

The thing is that God didn't create obedience that way.

This morning while reading the somewhat dismal judgments on the rebellion of God's people in the book of Ezekiel, I found this little verse (actually repeated twice so you know it HAS to be important!) that popped out at me and shown a pretty little light on obedience.

Ezekiel 20:13

“...They [The Israelites] wouldn't obey my instructions even though obedience would have given them life.”

Let this truth of God's Word settle a bit in your spirit...Obedience gives LIFE. I can tell you there is this unspeakable joy, peace, and richness to a life lived in obedience to the will of God. It is not a life lived in numb, mindless obedience but rather a life fully alert to God's very best and willing to jump right in. I have gone through seasons where obedience was not fun and was for sure a choice of my will, but the more I allow the Holy Spirit to work in my life this remarkable thing happens...I actually become delighted to obey the Lord. Yep, it is totally true.

As I thought over this alternative perspective on obedience before the Lord this morning, I felt my heart begin to ask some thrilling questions they may challenge the way you view obedience too.

What if the things God is asking us to do in obedience were actually the very things we desired to do most? ...Then obedience would be easy and delightful.

What if we viewed obedience as a way to express our love for a God who has done more then we can fathom? ...Then obedience would be intimate.

What if I allowed my heart to be so tuned to the Spirit of God that it was easy for me to hear and know what God would ask of me? ...Then obedience would give purpose.

What if we just simply trusted that God is for us and obeyed Him?

...Then we would find this life God speaks of.

Obedience will always be a matter of the heart.

I so desperately desire my heart to be in step with all the marvelous plans of my God for me that obedience is no longer a duty but a pleasure. For obedience truly is bliss.

I Spy.

2010-08-11T07:35:00.000-07:00

So, I realize I have been absent for a bit and thus I thought I would break the silence with a nonsensical thought that has been bouncing around my noggin'.

I occasionally get emails from the American Consulate & Embassy in my little inbox. Sometimes the info is of the mundane nature (fees being raised) and other times if is shocking (multiple gang attacks targeting foreigners at the mall I frequent, no worries).
Regardless of the email's contents, the bottom of each email reads...

“This email is UNCLASSIFIED”

This sentence leaves me with the suspense and anticipation that someday I will actually receive an email on the contrary with four little words filled with intrigue and espionage possibilities...

“This email is CLASSIFIED.”

If only, people, if only. I will keep you posted.
However, if I tell you, I may have to kill you.

2010 FIFA World Cup: The Noisiest Classroom There Is.

2010-07-09T06:01:00.000-07:00

Who would have thought that FIFA's 2010 World Cup would prove to be such a willing teacher? I sure did not and yet, with these matches being in my backyard so to speak, I have consistently learned new and surprising things about myself. In honour of this momentous event coming to a close I feel inspired to share these new realizations. Here goes (in no particular order)...

I DO enjoy watching soccer on TV. Who knew? I had no idea. I have never before been so captivated and addicted to watching any sport on television. In the past I have naively claimed that watching soccer on TV is like watching chaotic ants dancing. Alas, it is not so. The rhythm and precision with which which these players execute their moves is mesmerizing. After all of these years I admit I was wrong. I love the World Cup.

I am diseased. All along I have been infected with a disease that has only now come to my attention...I call it the “Unable-to-keep-your-mouth-shut-during-a-match-disease.” There is no possible way for me to watch a soccer game and not a)Hold one-sided convos with players/teams b) Make ridiculously embarrassing sounds of excitement, despair, or any other emotion that arises. c) Feel the need to offer my verbal condolences to the losing side. It's an illness and I am looking into getting medication.

Vuvuzelas are our friends. Having lived in Africa for multiple years I have already had time to develop a relationship with the obnoxiously loud and uncalled for nature of a Vuvuzela. But guess what? It is physically possible to develop immunity to the incessant hooting of this excessively used celebratory instrument. I know, because I have. It is brilliant. Attention: Vuvuzela-ers...hoot away at all hours of the night for no apparent reason, your racket is dead to me. HA.

Player look-alikes. I have begun to take note that far too many times I have looked at a myriad of players and said to myself, “Oh my goodness, that Spanish (German, Uraguan, fill-in-country-here) player looks just like [so and so] from home!” Can it really be that these players really,truly look like my guys friends from home? I doubt it. Having the same freckles, facial hair and hair colour does not a look-alike make. Homesick much?

Work out regime. When it comes to watching the World Cup matches I can't not care. Me caring means that for the entire 90+ minutes I have every muscle in my body clenched as deep stress and excitement overtakes me. Thus I have inserted this viewing pleasure as part of my weekly work routine. Boy, am I toned let me tell you.

I Heart Soccer Talk. I am completely obsessed with holding conversations with knowledgeable soccer fans (usually of the male persuasion) whilst dropping impressive soccer vocabulary, repeating what I heard analyst say the night before, and giving my take on the previous match. I even got into a convo with my trainer at the gym this week. I sounded so smooth and soccer-educated you have no idea.

Compassion. I am sad to say that the close of the World Cup does offer me some relief. One thing I have definitely learned about myself is that I am WAY too compassionate during these games. Every missed goal, every goal keeper mistake, every team error twists my heart in pain as compassion overwhelms. I have to cover my eyes when they show the losers on their knees crying and for some reason I find myself channeling the players' moms and imagining how heartbroken their Mommy's are. I realize this is weird but I can't help it. I wish I could transport myself into the TV at times and give these sad little fellas a hug. If only. It would really do my vicariously-aching heart some good.

Soccer, Futbol, Football...Call it what you like. It's a beautiful game.

Oh, and GO SPAIN!!!!!

Road Trip Revelation.

2010-06-16T12:44:00.000-07:00

My fresh revelation for today...neither holy nor anointed, but still just as true.

I have begun to view my 2 hour (round trip) drive from my village to "town," as a road trip.
I know this because I find myself incessantly overcome with the urge to purchase road trip edible essentials every time I am heading home.

You know the stuff they sell right by the register? Yea, that stuff.
Sad thing is the urge too often gives way to purchasing. Now road trips are awesome because you can embrace the beef jerky, pop, candy and sweets guilt free because you can justify it as necessary sustenance for the once in a blue moon journey. It is part of the "road trip experience." Trouble is that I make this trek almost everyday...sometimes twice.

Have you ever considered what might happen if you, too, viewed your commute as if it were a road trip. Yes, it is a scary, scary thing indeed. But then again, somewhat thrilling too.

Choose Faith.

2010-06-14T06:10:00.000-07:00

Hebrews 11:40

God had a better plan for us: that their faith [The faith of the Saints before us] and our faith would come together to make one completed whole, their lives of faith not complete apart from ours.

The faith of the Saints that have gone before me is not complete until I walk the path of faith that God has set before me. My faith completes and bring wholeness to their picture of faith. Their faith beckons me on to believe when things look impossible, to walk in hope, and to cast aside the tendency to make decisions based on sight. My faith will also blaze the trail for those that follow behind me.

Today, I feel the responsibility and thrill of being a woman of faith.

My mustard seed faith is part of a masterpiece that God is preparing for His glory.

In the depths of my heart I just get this sense that, Jesus, the Author and Finisher of my faith is not finished writing my story quite yet. And so, today I simply and sincerely choose faith.

Gardening for God's Glory.

2010-06-11T06:19:00.000-07:00

I am not a gardener in the natural.
However, God has called me to garden in the Spirit.
If I had known what this job entailed, I pray I would have still said, “Yes,” to Him.
The soil He has set before me is the rich, tender, and sometimes ornery soil of the next generation in Botswana. God has filled my sack with seeds of His truth, echoes of hope, and a fierce faith that though the seeds seem small, they will produce a harvest.

Sometimes the soil is soft, receptive and prepared for the seeds.
Other times the soil is hard and even rolls it's eyes in my direction.
Regardless, the seeds never change. They are sown faithfully each week with no regard to the status of the soil. Though I rejoice when I see the seeds to take root, I have been called to sow seeds with confidence and in obedience.

Being a sower in these fields takes hard work.
It requires investing time, walking in wisdom, watering the soil in love, and deep, sometimes painful sacrifice.

The soil that I am referencing is the hundreds of 6th &7th grade students at Mmusi Primary School who I have the privilege of teaching each week. In this public school I get to sow seeds of truth about God's heart for purity, being people of character, making wise choices, and stepping into the incredible plans that God has planned. Often I am asked to speak truth on subjects that the very culture around me hides from. It can be mortifying and challenging at times. But sow I will. I believe if I faithfully and boldly proclaim the heart of God over these young ones, there will be a harvest. This week I saw that faith come to sight.

Behold my first harvest...
115 seventh graders who have decided to pledge abstinence until they are married. Those seeds have taken root. These young ones believe there is another way. They believe God has a plan for them. They believe that they can start a new heritage of purity in their village, country, and continent.

I believe it too....for “I am sure that God, who began this good work within [them,] will continue His work until it is finished on that day when Christ Jesus comes back again.” Ephesians 1:6

Things I Love and Adore Part V.

2010-05-24T07:54:00.000-07:00

Items in my purse that daily remind me of home...

Lip Gloss I “stole” from my Mom (Check)
Favorite chap stick (Check)
Ice Breakers gum...who doesn't love the cubes? (Check)
Cucumber Melon Hand Sanitizer from Bath & Body (Check)
Westside Church pens...I love these little guys-never run out, always there when you need 'em!

(Check, Check)
Cruel, cruel joke from some beloved friends who secretly hid a reminder of my LEAST favorite word in my purse...Can't seem to throw it away, however. (Check)

It's the little things. I'm thankful.

Good Answer, Good Answer.

2010-05-19T07:05:00.000-07:00

That night God appeared to Solomon. God said, “What do you want from me? Ask.”

Solomon answered,“...Yes, give me wisdom and knowledge as I come and go among the people...”

God answered Solomon, “This is what has come out of your heart: You didn't grasp for money, wealth, fame, and the doom of your enemies; you didn't even ask for a long life. You asked for wisdom and knowledge...”

2 Chronicles 1: 7, 10-11 MSG

It's like a dream. Just as young Solomon was busy taking “a firm grip on the reigns of his kingdom,” God chose to appear to him and asked him a vitally important question. “What do you want from me?Ask.” Just like that, the King of the Universe offers Solomon any little thing his heart could imagine. Sheesh, I have always been astounded by Solomon's response. Solomon does not delay. He does not hmm and haaa. He delivers a brilliant answer. Wisdom. Such an answer would surely have gotten a round of applause or an enthusiastic affirmation of “Good answer, good answer!” had he been on Family Feud. (Oh, was that just me that watched that show?) I have always been struck with the cleverness of this young king to ask for more cleverness. Today, however, when I read this familiar passage something new popped off the page in technicolor hues.

In verse 11 God responds to Solomon. He states that this brilliant answer or request came straight out of Solomon's HEART. I finally get it, it's not a cleverness thing, it's a heart thing. God was impressed that Solomon had the kind of heart that would desire wisdom above all else. He did not grasp (cling to and pursue) the things of this world, the very things in fact that most young people spend their lives trying to grasp. Solomon had established deep in his heart a value system that caused the things of this world to pale in comparison to the wisdom of God. Wisdom that comes straight from God. Wisdom to accomplish the task God had laid out. Wisdom that in fact led Solomon to all the other blessings that God wanted to pour out. But this wisdom began with a humble heart.

I often pray for wisdom. My day to day life has a habit of screaming reminders of how desperately I need it. I desire God's wisdom. Wisdom that goes down deep and draws me to the only source able to complete all that is on my plate each day. However, if God were to appear to me today and say, “Jenna, what do you want from me? Ask,” would the answer that came from my heart truly be wisdom? Do I value the wisdom of God above all else or do I choose to spend my time grasping for so many less worthy pursuits? The challenge stares me in the face on a day like today.

I don't just want to be wise. I want a heart that seeks wisdom, a heart that reflects the maturity and knowledge of my God. A humble, teachable heart.

How about you? What do you want from God?

Things I Love and Adore Part IV.

2010-05-08T11:19:00.000-07:00

My Mom.

There are frankly no words to express the love and adoration I feel towards my Mum. She has always, always been there for me. She is such a rock in my life because I know I can always count on her for a listening ear, a good story about her littles, a kind word, and a sincere prayer. The fact that I never in my life have had to doubt her love for me or the fact that she would be there on the other line ready to be my Mom, is simply breathtaking. I am overcome not only with gratitude that God would choose her to be my Mom and best friend but so very humbled that she has again and again made countless choices to put me first, to sacrifice something of herself so that I could be cared for. On this list of things I love and adore...my Mom is at the top.

Happy Mother's Day Mum O' Mine.

Things I Love and Adore. Part III

2010-05-07T07:47:00.000-07:00

The Sensation of Pulling Up Socks Nice and Snug.

(I realize this is strange, but then again, so am I.)

Winter is fast approaching this side of the globe and with my little toes getting cold I am reminded of this marvelous sensation. There is something so comforting and securing knowing your feet are toasty and your socks are firmly in place. Sounds a bit odd, but it is true, I love it and am thankful for it. Thankfulness is thankfulness if you ask me.

A Word on Joy.

2010-05-06T06:10:00.000-07:00

Since arriving back in Bots in January, there has been an underlying theme of my life...JOY. Though it is not something I necessarily always have, there has been this insatiable desire growing deep within to really understand how to truly obtain it. I NEED joy and my guess is so do you. Now, I am not talking about sunshine and flowers kind joy, I am talking about the kind of Joy that can be my strength when challenges come, the kind of Joy that will steady and sustain me and cause me to walk in faith and hope in otherwise hopeless situations. I have desperately needed it and thus have begun a deeper pursuit of the source of all my Joy. (Psalm 43:4). Through the consistency of the gentle, yet powerful Holy Spirit, God's Word, not to mention a little help from my beloved friend Bo Stern's, The Joy Project, I am learning to live it out. I have discovered a few things about this treasure that is found in the JOY of the Lord and wanted to encourage you that you too can walk in true joy. Things have not been easy in the past few months to say the least but God's delightful Joy has kept me.

A few words on TRUE JOY...

When circumstances demand despair, this kind of Joy remains.

It is only found in God's Presence.

It is a CHOICE made from your will not your emotions.

God causes it to well up from the deepest places in your heart, in the most unlikely moments.

It purely reflects, as in a mirror, the goodness of God.

It restores a weary soul.

It's contagious.

It will make you laugh, and sometimes cry “happy tears.”

It steadies you.

It's always available.

This JOY well will never run dry.

Over the past few months when I have been...

exhausted,

robbed,

internally weary,

dealing with naughty students,

discouraged,

carrying burdens,

facing impossible circumstances,

aching deep within,

...God's JOY has faithfully had the last word each time.

I find myself utterly humbled by a God who delivers TRUE Joy when it is needed most.

Things I Love and Adore Part II.

2010-04-29T10:37:00.000-07:00

Number 2:
Being an Auntie to Joshua and Anika Jorgensen.

There is just something delicious about hearing my name, “Annie”...(used to be Aaaan-TEE, then Addy, a variation of daddy-we are getting there!) shouted with excitement or gently said with as much endearment as a nearly-two year old can muster up every time I enter the house, or the room for that matter.
I love love love these Jorgensen kiddos.
What a privilege to be a part of their lives, watch them grow up, and be their Auntie who gets unending affection and love.
I adore it.

Things I Love and Adore Part I.

2010-04-27T08:15:00.000-07:00

In honour of this tremendous turn around that God has so graciously delivered deep within me, I feel compelled to spend sometime being thankful. Thankful for the things, seemingly ordinary and perhaps unimpressive things, that demonstrate God's wonderful love for me. These would be the things that I truly love and adore. Not just like or think are ok, this is some serious love and overflowing adoration. Some of these things make me laugh, cause me to smile, and may even instigate my signature squeal, you never know. Here goes.

Number 1:

One pair of brand new white Converse shoes, size 6.

Mailed by a dear friend half way around the world to fit securely and joyfully upon my child-size feet. Sometimes friends just make me cry with how ridiculously kind, sacrificial, and loving they can be.

I adore new shoes.

I adore friends who spend more then the shoes cost to mail them to me in Africa.

Smoke Signals.

2010-04-26T08:24:00.000-07:00

I'm back. You may have not known I was gone but I, on the other hand, have been glaringly aware of this dark and discouraging place I have been in for the past month or so. I have tried to snap out of it as it were, fight to make it stop, but this anonymous ache deep within me has ceased to subside.

Weighted down by uncontrollable circumstances threatening my faith in God's provision, thrashed about by the lies of the enemies, my knees have buckled under the intensity of life lived in the midst of a fallen world. It has been painful, confusing, and left me exhausted to my core.

In spite of I all, I have never stopped coming to Jesus. I have waited upon Him, clung to the faintest whisper of His Spirit speaking. Longing for the lingering darkness to lift I have waited in expectation for hope to pierce through. Little by little I have felt God pushing back the darkness and exposing the brokenness inside me. God has led me out of the ashes demonstrating along the way that His single purpose is my wholeness, my restoration, and making me look like His precious Son. God is willing to let the darkness and the gut wrenching pain remain so He can accomplish His eternal purposes in and through me. This astounds me.

Tonight as I sought the Word of God, I came across a verse that blew into my mind and heart like a fresh spring breeze. In it the prophet Isaiah describes Jesus, the coming King.

“Before you know it, his justice will triumph; the mere sound of his name will signal hope, even among far-off unbelievers.” -Matthew 12:21

The mere mention of His name signals hope.
Jesus.
Hope. Tonight I felt it. That Name is the source of all my hope.
Jesus, my Redeemer.
Jesus, my Provider.
Jesus, my Restorer.
Jesus, my Victory.
Jesus, my Prince of Peace.
Jesus. At the end of the day, He is enough for me. As I meditated on the Name of Jesus and all that this precious Name means to me, I felt like on the horizon there was a flicker of light. Jesus, the signal for hope. The Spirit of God has sent me a smoke signal in this wilderness I have been circling and it's the Name of Jesus. With each mention of His Name overwhelming circumstances seem to fade, fears are cast out, and the darkness has fled. In His Name is power to bring triumph, delicately create wholeness within me and bring beauty from ashes. It takes my breath away. The Word of God speaks and it has spoken of Jesus.

Sometimes I wonder.

2010-03-12T07:24:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if...

I didn't daily drive my car past a straw-hatted man steering a team of ornery donkeys pulling a cart.

Droves of beautiful African children didn't run wildly waving their hands and screaming, “Dumela!” every time I passed by.

I didn't regularly confuse my cell phone vibrating with the lulling sound of the neighbor's cows.

My nightly routine didn't involve locking up the main house in it's security “cage” and then proceeding to lock myself into my own safe “cage” across the yard.

I didn't repeatedly scan the white walls of my cottage for critters of the creepy persuasion.

Going to the “Mall in Mochudi” didn't consist simply of buying groceries and gas for my car.

I was not compelled to scrub my filthy feet immediately upon arriving home from church.

I didn't have to legitimately avoid chickens, goats, and a plethora of other livestock who feel that the road is their territory.

I never had to use the phrase, “ I am going to town.” (As opposed to being in the village)

A day could pass by without having to repeatedly use the terms, “Premarital Sex,” “Risky behaviours,” “STDs,” and “HIV/AIDS,” in front of a classroom of charming uniform-wearing children.

I wasn't forced to master the slipper/Doom-Spray cockroach, poisonous spider, scorpion, (fill in nasty, disgusting creepy-crawler-invading-my-personal-space-HERE) death blow.

I didn't daily ponder why the littles in the village consistently greet me in the HIGHEST-pitched nasally voiced, “Helllloooooooo!” (Do they think I sound like that? Sure hope not.)

I didn't get to hang out every weekend with the most entertaining, about-to-rock-the-world-around-them-for-the-Kingdom-of-God youth.

I never got to see the love of God and the power of the resurrection transforming the lives of my precious church family.

Sometimes I wonder, what if... then it would not be the life that God has designed for me to live.

It wouldn't be an adventure.

It would be a counterfeit to God's best for me.

Forget that.

Prayer that Moves the Heart of God.

2010-02-24T12:05:00.001-08:00

I love to pray. I am astounded that the God who created the universe would bend His ear to listen to me as I pour out worship and woes before His throne. One of the delights of my week is gathering on Wednesday nights with one or two others from our church family to pray.

Tonight I was delighted to see our newly assembled Prayer Team early and eager to join me as we pace inside our church tent in prayer. Among these new faces was a neighbor of mine named Lydia. Lydia is one whom God has knit my heart to as I first met her in a time of great suffering and pain. God is stirring something real and tangible inside this woman that is undeniable.

As we spread out throughout our tent I began to pray. As I prayed I could hear the women pouring out their hearts to God and in a brilliant symphony.

Then I began to hear the faint prayer of Lydia.

I tried to keep praying but I was silenced.

Lydia, a women suffering from HIV, living in great poverty with her two children and trying to sort out what it really means to walk with God, repeated a prayer so simple, sincere, and sweet.

Her humble heart repeated again and again.

“Jesus, I trust you.”

“I trust you, Jesus.”

“Jesus, I just really trust you.”

Her prayer was piercingly pure, raw and authentic.

That is a prayer that moves the heart of God.

Call Out.

2010-02-22T11:59:00.000-08:00

Deep within my heart I know there is more of God and His marvelous Kingdom.
Yet finding God can be so slippery sometimes.
Some days I seek Him and find Him and then there is this insatiable desire within me that rises up.
I know there is still more.
I am in an undivided pursuit of the One pursuing me.

Then there is a week like this one.
When my soul just gets tired.
My vision becomes blurred by life in all of its fullness.
I know I need Him but I don't know where to get Him.

I peel open His Word and my knotted heart is gently untangled by the power of a simple word of truth spoken at just the right moment.

“Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things that you do not know.”
Jeremiah 33: 3

When I find I only have strength to call out, His promises echo back with hope.
All that's required is a call to Him.
He will answer.

Everything I Am I Owe To My Mother.

2010-02-10T23:49:00.000-08:00

Today just happens to be the day of birth of a beloved Mum of mine.

Truly everything I am I owe to my Mother. She is such an incredible example of a Godly woman, wife and Mama, let the whole world know. In honour of this fine day of her birth I have compiled a list (In no particular order) of reasons why I adore my Mom. Take a gander and stand in awe at the cutest lady there is, Jean Javens, my Mum...

How I love her. Let me count the ways...

She can polka AND break dance. Not only that but she was purposeful in teaching us kids of hers how. In doing so, she provided me with invaluable skills to pass onto my African kids. Have you ever seen an African teenager trying to do the “corkscrew?” If not, you haven't lived. Her and I also share a deep down desire to someday learn how to Krump. Oh, that will be a wonderful day...Mother/Daughter Krumping!

She loves unconditionally and beyond measure. There has never been a day in my life where I doubted my Mom's love for me. Her love makes me stronger and steadies me.

She is a woman of prayer. I used to get annoyed when I would ask my Mom for advice and she would consistently and simply say NOTHING except, “Let's just pray.” Her wisdom in taking me to the Lord first has not only taught me that habit in my own life but also demonstrated her knowledge that God knows, is real, and is at work. May I always do the same as my Mom.

The woman can laugh and make others laugh. My Mom has a joy and enthusiasm about her that is contagious. She genuinely loves life which makes those around her love life too. (Not to mention love her!)

She is a firm believer in Feng Shui. My Mom can move any piece of furniture around the room all by herself on any given day. If you chance to drop in on her you will surely find her moving the most massive piece of furnishings around her classroom at school or in any old room in her house. Not only can she be likened to Mighty Mouse but the freshness about her decorating style keeps everyone on their toes and in for a new view. Change can always do you some good.

She is an awesome teacher. My Mom loves her students with the same kind of love that she has always lavished on me. Her genuine care and concern not only for the education of her students but also their little lives is heroic. She loves well and in doing so is transforming little pumpkins daily. (Not to mention teaching them to read, write, and do arithmetic.)

She is the queen of the one-handed cartwheel. I am convinced that when she is 99 she will still perform this ever-impressive stunt for her adoring fans. (That would be ME!) I used to be so jealous until I realized not many Moms can or would even attempt such a feat. My Mom would...just ask her.

She is so darling and stylish. My Mom is the most adorable creature I have ever met. She has such a precious little style that expresses her amazing personality and attention to detail. When I grow up I want to be as stylish and stunning as my Mom.

She is my biggest fan. Whether it was cheering me on as I stumbled around the bases in tee-ball, playing drums through the unkind of years of junior high, or finding room for all of my artwork over the years, I have always known my Mom was my biggest fan. Her support and encouragement has always breathed life into whatever I put my hand to. Now living on the other side of the globe and knowing that she is still cheering me on allows me to keep going when challenges come and overall live well.

She knows me. There is this overwhelmingly settling feeling when I know that even if the whole world misunderstands me or turns their back on me, my Mom really, genuinely knows me. She is consistently there to remind me who I am when I seem to lose myself and always believes the very best in and for me. The biggest blessing is that I truly and completely know my Mom. I know her heart, her thoughts, her fantastic little ways. What a treasure that I can count my very own Mum as my dearest and best friend.

Happiest of Birthdays Mommy of Mine.

You are adored and loved in abundance.

Come on and Let God Love You.

2010-02-08T06:55:00.000-08:00

I am a youth pastor.

Though I find myself often in total denial hardly able to believe that God has taken this elementary school teacher and sent her to Africa to be a youth pastor, the bottom line is I love it.

I love the youth and how they make me laugh with their antics, make my heart break with the struggles they face and overall just their genuine love for God. They are a delight in every way. As a youth pastor, I get the joy and privilege of seeking God for the powerful words of life that He would want to speak to this next generation. As mentioned previously I am an elementary school teacher (or was) which means “sermon prep” a term and habit embraced widely by pastors around the globe does not come easily. I find myself in this wonderful, humbling state of having the Holy Spirit teach me first hand what it means to be a pastor, prepare sermons, counsel with Godly counsel, and love this flock like Jesus would.

So it was that this last week I found myself with spiritual shovel in hand attempting to dig out that deep, powerful truth from God's Word that would divide bone and marrow in my heart and then the hearts of the Unbound Kids. Did I mention I love it? It's really hard, but OH, I love it. As I let the concept of God being our First Love percolate in my heart and mind all week, I knew God had a fine-tuned heart-piercing Word to speak. My job was to search deeper as to let the Holy Spirit have ultimate wiggle room in the lives of these kids. I took time to quiet myself and God spoke this REALLY simple and yet life changing Word to me that I felt compelled to share with you. My feeling is (and I am pretty sure the Holy Spirit would concur) that if each one of us took this statement and made it a daily habit in our lives and a truth to really live by; our lives, relationships, identities, and world would be transformed. Here it is in all of its simplicity...(a two part sermon to be exact)...

Let God Love You and Love Him Back

My challenge to you in this moment and each day this week is to take a few minutes and quiet your heart and mind. Then allow the miracle of God's love to settle in and get cozy deep within you. Let God love you. His love is the kind of love that will bring wholeness, perspective, forgiveness, security, and like a warm blanket wrapped around you remind you that you are safe. Dear friends, this is my pray for the youth here in Botswana and each one of you whom I love so much...

“May your roots grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God”.

Ephesians 3:17-19

Transparency.

2010-01-27T12:06:00.000-08:00

Transparency:

The ability to see through something to what might be revealed on the other side.

Having just arrived back home in Africa I have been savoring the saturated state of my soul that is the result of having been in fellowship once again with my family and friends. I find my heart overwhelmed by the way that God reveals the endless aspects of His character amidst relationships of weak, broken people. We are imperfect children of a perfect, Living God. Somehow because of God's grace and kindness He shows up in power in our relationships. During my holiday at home, I experienced this supernatural move of God during conversations over a warm cup of tea, a yummy crepe, popcorn chicken, chips and salsa...the list could go on. As I have pondered how it could be that a myriad of fine food establishments could be transformed into holy ground as it were, the key I believe was transparency. Transparency amidst relationships.

I don't know how or when God taught me the delight in being transparent with people but the truth is once you start being real, it is almost impossible to go back. There is this marvelous freedom in openly taking a look at your struggles, weaknesses, doubts, fears and hurts and then coming back to what you know to be true about God. The reason I feel compelled to share this thought on transparency is that in the middle of openly processing while at home I found myself verbalizing things I believe about who God is, what He is REALLY doing in my life, and at the end of the day walked away healed in ways I cannot explain. It seems that the more transparent I became with the friends I love, the more Jesus was able to reveal to me what He has been doing all along. God has in turn deposited in me a huge arsenal of truths about Him and His ways that are no longer theories but something I can sink my teeth into. Through this openness and sincere love for people from the get-go God has blessed me with authentic relationships where He is free to move in this miraculous way. Transparency and authenticity amidst relationships becomes an opportunity for the stunning work of God to be revealed, hearts are knit ever closer, and love just grows.

What I am left with is this...

A beautiful reflection of the family of God being the family of God.

I just simply stand amazed.

Beautiful Things.

2009-12-07T23:09:00.000-08:00

1 Timothy 2:10
“And I want women to get in there with men in humility before God, not primping before a mirror or chasing after the latest fashions but doing something beautiful for God and becoming beautiful doing it.”

As I read this verse this morning I was struck with a tinge of delight in the fact that God actually views the small things I do in obedience to His voice as beautiful. I want to be beautiful by living a life of humble service to God that reflects His beauty. The Spirit of God urges me to not just do good “things” for God but to live a life that is beautifully running after Jesus. It is not my desire to have people say that one moment or event was such an amazing “thing” I did for God. I want my life to scream surrender and to be summed up as a beautiful life lived onto God. Whether in the mundane or the magnificent, I choose to let my life as a whole be something beautiful for Jesus. The fact that He will make me look like Him (beautiful) along the way, that is just a brilliant bonus.

I'm So Excited and I Just Can't Hide It.

2009-11-30T06:57:00.000-08:00

I have been trying to blog. I really have. I keep thinking of witty little tales to tell of scorpions in our house, battles with bleach and other mundane/amusing stories of my life. The truth is I am distracted, distracted in the best way. I am coming home so very soon!!! In a matter of weeks I will be boarding that plane in shorts and a tank top, where I will proceed to slather on the layers hour by hour to transform my Summer self into all things wintry and wonderfully home. As anticipation builds, I find my thoughts drawn to home like a rickety old cart consistently veering right no matter which way you steer it. In an attempt to ease the antsy-ness arising in me, I have compiled a list of people, places, and things I am beyond excited to see, go, and experience. Feel free to pencil in your name next to any item with which you so desire to join me in while I am home...

Disclaimer: I am well aware that over half of the items listed have something to do with consumption of food and in my mind I am justified with the truth that I will never consume said food alone.Friends and family will be present in all circumstances mentioned, I promise. Scout's honor.

I am so excited and I just can't hide it!

I can't wait for...

Being reunited with my precious and amazing Family

Froggin' around with my fabulous Friends

Christmas Eve Javens Family Talent Show 09

Millions of coffee dates to get the haps (though I only drink tea)

Lounging on my parents couch

Christmas morning traditions

Hiking the Butte

Drinking Hot Chocolate

Devouring a $5 footlong from Subway

Getting to eat a Caesar Salad

Backporch-I intend to sit there for hours and watch the snow fall

Decorating the Christmas tree

Bowling with my Dad

Hanging at the Moyers house

Holding Olivia Faith Unruh for the first time

Skipbo Tournaments

Seeing my brother Nathan after almost 2 years!

Charades (Holiday Version Please)

Watching Christmas movies

Westside Church-Nothing like my home church

Laughing and lots of it

Drinking Dr. Pepper & Mr. Pibb (Hello old friends)

SNOW

Walking in Drake Park

“Jamming” on the guitar with my brother Nate

Savoring Carmel Apple Cider from Starbucks

Corporate worship led by my friends

All things Christmas

The Nutcracker with my Mum

Buying Sale Summer clothes (just what I need!)

Shopping in real malls (hallelujah)

El Cap

Recording music with Katie and Noel

Ice Skating in Sunriver

Trout House with the girls

Breakfast at McDonalds with my parents

Hearing all that God has been up to Stateside

Speaking truth and encouragement into my beloved friends' lives

Sisters Coffee Company...London Fog, be still my heart.

Getting hugs

Sharing stories of the move of God in Bots

Praying in person with those I love

Resting

Being HOME.

Moved By Compassion.

2009-11-18T10:48:00.000-08:00

Throughout Scripture describing the days that Jesus walked our sod you will find again and again that Jesus was not in a hurry. He was attentive, aware and ready. We also read that Jesus was consistently, “Moved by compassion.” He was moved by compassion to feed hungry people, teach the mysteries of the Kingdom, heal the sick, raise the dead, minister to people with the simplest to the most profound of needs. I have read these words many times standing in amazement at Jesus' ways and yet wondered what does that really mean? What would it look like for me to be “moved by compassion?” Or better yet, what would it take? My heart's desire is to look more and more like Jesus each day I live on the earth which means that sometime I must experience this mystery firsthand.

I believe in the last week I felt it. I know for certain that Jesus gave me a glimpse of what was happening in His heart those many times when He Himself was so overflowing with compassion that He was moved to action. Over the past few weeks, I have become a sort of answering service for the sick in our church and community who need prayer. It has been amazing to me because each time I receive these late night desperate calls (and they are always late night) truly the only thing I have been able to do is pray. Every time we have prayed God has come through with supernatural healing and provided testimonies of His power and grace at work. He is just so good at that.

This past week following my lessons at Mmusi Primary I was approached or rather stopped in my tracks by a student of mine named Tirelo. This sweet, quiet, 6th grade boy who I know from class, ran up to me after school begging me to come and pray for His mom. To be honest, I was shocked and then really humbled. There he was with his big brown desperate eyes reaching out for someone to join him before the Throne on behalf of his pregnant and suffering mom. Tirelo's family is not saved as far as I know but this boy had faith and just like Jesus was prompted to act in response to faith, so was I.

Late last night Tirelo, his grandma and I went to visit his mom, Lydia, at the public hospital. Even as we approached the maternity ward with the nervous and anxious Tirelo running ahead, I could sense the Lord about to ruin me in new ways. While I will edit out the heart wrenching conditions that I find at this hospital, as I sat in the courtyard with my hand on Lydia's shoulder, my heart was aching with compassion. As she recounted the various pains and concerns for her health, I could physically feel my heart breaking. I wanted to find a doctor and demand answers, share some words with the cooks who refused to feed her something she could safely keep down, protect the baby growing inside of her, just do something. My skin was crawling with the sensation of the Spirit moving inside of me (sounds creepy but really it was amazing). As I was literally moved by compassion and love for this women I don't know and her son who looked on with eyes of faith, I was able to give her Jesus. She needed healing, comfort, love, and covering and in Jesus alone she will receive all of the above.

I rose early today to greet Lydia with much needed breakfast and a tender dose of Jesus. To tell you the truth I still don't know this women well but Jesus is moving compassionately through me to make sure that Lydia knows Him. I have decided I want to be moved by compassion all the time. I want to let the things that break God's heart really ruin mine. I want to be attentive and ready for the miraculous move of the Spirit as He draws all men and women to Himself.

Please pray for Lydia's healing and salvation.
Please pray that I would walk in deeper faith.
Pray for yourself to let God move you in new compassionate ways to reach those around you.

To-Do.

2009-11-13T04:35:00.001-08:00

Today's To-Do List:

1. Trust God Steadily.

2. Hope unswervingly.

3. Love Extravagantly.

I Choose Jesus.

2009-11-10T07:33:00.000-08:00

Have you ever had one of those revelations that stops you in your tracks?
I did this week.
It was humbling, freeing, and life changing.

God's promises are not to be viewed solely in light of my dreams, desires, and life circumstances.
God's promises are meant to reveal the Promiser.
Yes, His promises apply and are at work in my circumstances
but the Promiser is the reward, not my desires.

I knew this deep in my heart once, but I let my heart forget.
I was sincerely grieved and then gracefully restored to an undivided pursuit of the only One worth running after.

Forget the rest, I choose Jesus.

Seasons of the Soul.

2009-10-29T07:58:00.000-07:00

Though I live in and have lived in various places that lack the beloved change and newness that different seasons bring, I love seasons.

The changing of seasons fosters hope that change is around the corner and allows us to mark life's path on this journey. Through my many years walking with God, I have found that there also happens to be the constant changing of spiritual seasons that bring a new perspective, shape me, and display the works and creativity of my Maker.

As I have sought the Lord as to this mysteriously marvelous work He is doing in me, I have found a parallel between my spiritual season and my favorite natural season, Autumn. Autumn is marked by its brilliant array of colors, a majestic display of the manner in which God views change. With each leaf fading from deep cranberry red to rich burnt orange, creation declares that change in the eyes of its Creator is nothing more than stunningly beautiful. I have found myself many times stopping to soak in the colorful dance of drifting leaves, sense the fresh, cool winds that begin to blow, and marvel at the distinct signs of this savored season.

So it is with my soul. There is an almost indescribable newness stirring deep within my spirit. As I have faithfully come to Him, God has been tenderly painting His truths across my heart day by day. Each delicate and divinely decorated truth reflects the beauty of its artist and has freed me to embrace the changes that God is bringing about in my life. God is not harsh or demanding that changes be made but instead has sent the gentle, cool breeze of His Spirit. The wind of the Spirit is a wind of change.

With its mysterious paths about me it graciously removes places in me that are dead and dying. It strips me bare in anticipation for the future seasons to come. For me this has been a season where God has tended to the carving out of my character. I have felt the biting, cool air convict, correct, and shape the deepest places in me. It has also been a freeing season that releases me to let the molding hands of God transform and renew me. God has stripped me and strengthened me. He has delivered whispers of His love amidst the changing of my soul that allows me to embrace His loving transformation. I crave something new in me. I long for the sweet buds of Spring in my life and God has been faithfully preparing me for such a season. Until Spring comes, I choose to stand in wonder at this Autumn of my soul and let this season categorized by change reflect the works of God in my life.

Man in a Manger.

2009-10-27T06:04:00.001-07:00

Dreams, I sincerely don't understand them.
I did, however, have a dream last night that is probably one of the funniest dreams I have ever had. So funny, that I have been repeatedly laughing out loud every time it comes to mind. No need to analyze this one, but I felt obligated to share the humor for your enjoyment.

(Disclaimer: The is not a true story, it was only a funny dream, do not be alarmed)

In my dreams...
My dear friend Branden Carpenter was scheduled to speak to the high school and junior high kids in 180 at Westside Church. All of my Bend friends were gathered in the 180 room and were delighted to hear the anointed Word as Branden brilliantly delivered it. He got so excited about kids taking notes on his talk while speaking that half-way through he peaced out of the sermon to find paper and never came back. That was funny...but it got so much better. I caught up with Branden later on in the entry way at church and we were discussing how he felt the first service had gone. Minus the dismissing himself half-way through we both agreed that he had done well. He still had two more services to speak at so, I, the wonderful friend that I am felt it necessary to give him some suggestions.

Due to the fact that Branden was speaking on the Christmas story, I suggested the genius idea that Branden dress up in swaddling close, climb into a man-sized manger and preach his sermons from there. Now, I was not being funny at all, I was completely serious. I went on to tell him that I felt that the visual would really be an asset to his sermon points. The best part is that he sincerely agreed and did it.

There he was swaddling himself up in a blanket and climbing into the giant manger (never mind why Westside church had a giant man-sized manger) and preaching to a room full of busy, bustling teenagers. The visual will probably keep me laughing for days to come. I love that dream, I love my friend Branden, and I love laughing.

Ode to My Pops.

2009-10-25T07:29:00.000-07:00

This past week my dear Daddy-O celebrated a birthday and I find myself compelled to compile this list of reasons why I adore my Dad.

Here goes (in no particular order)...

He taught me to dance...and I don't mean slow dance. My dad has won multiple dance competitions versus people half his age and has instilled in me the principle to never just stand there, you've got to BUST A MOVE. For this I am grateful.
He thinks I am funny and laughs at my frogginess. He may totally be faking it but regardless, he appreciates a good laugh and I dearly love to laugh with him.
He loves bowling as much as I do. On my last day in the States before moving to Bots, he was so committed to our mutual love for the game that he took me bowling, a date with my dad that I adore.
He rides a Harley and lets me come along. He nurtures his beautiful Heritage Soft Tail Harley Davidson with the an attitude of appreciation and impeccable care.
He is a man that prays. I know that the work of God in my life is directly related to the faithfulness of my Dad to pray. His prayers have shaped me, covered me, and allowed God to do countless miracles. There are no words to thank him for this.
He loves my Mum. The example and faithfulness of my parents to stick it out through thick and thin has created a heritage of faith that I am so blessed to inherit.
He is just really darling...now I know that guys don't like to hear that they are darling but the truth is my Dad is. He IS muscular, dapper, handsome and incredibly manly too, but he also happens to be darling, a fact that he must accept.
He is OCD like me. My dad is the cleanest, tidiest person I know. It has been rumored all my life that in his garage (yes, the garage is HIS room), the nails all point the same direction and you could eat off the floor. I have to say it is probably true and his OCD tendencies make me feel normal.
He is the definition of friendly His friendliness once made our family create a rule that says he is not allowed to talk to strangers unless they talk to him first. Deep down, I admire my Dad's friendly ways for with them he is able to make anybody feel welcome, accepted and valued. I love him for this.
He loves me. Sincerely, sacrificially, and consistently I never have to guess of my Dad's love for me. Whether it is in a hidden note, a quick email, or tender hug when I am home, my Dad competes vigorously to be my biggest fan. His love encourages, steadies, and strengthens me as his baby. Bottom line, I love him.

Happy Birthday Daddy O.

Thanks for being such a rad Dad.

Off the Top Of My Heart: The Sting of Sacrifice.

2009-10-15T03:21:00.001-07:00

In the last few days, I have felt what I call the “Sting of Sacrifice.” It's that feeling that comes like an unexpected wave washing over me and leaving a pit in my stomach, not to mention my heart. Serving God in Africa is what I was created to do in this season, there is no doubt in my mind. I love serving here because God has placed His heart for this country in me. As much as my heart is filled with dreams and desires for the future, when all is said and done, all I want to do is to please God. I long to please Him in fact. He is my greatest treasure and the pursuit of all I do.

The thing I am learning, however, is that running hard after God requires sacrifice. Sometimes I forget things I have laid down in order to follow Jesus. This week I have physically felt the sacrifice. I have been weighted down with my own wonderings about the future and groan in my Spirit for the Promises of God, those gracious whispers to me, to move from faith into sight. In terms of suffering, I know the way I have felt is minimal compared to the sufferings of Christ not to mention countless brothers and sisters around the world persecuted for their faith.

My soul has found reprieve in the truth that my God is a God of grace. He knows the sting of sacrifice in me and the weight of my wonderings. Sacrificing for the sake of Christ doesn't make me noble, but it does allow me to know Jesus more. I have found myself unsure of what to do with this sting that won't leave and He gently urges me to lay it at His feet. His burden is light and He alone sees the sacrifices I have made to say, “Yes,” to Him. For me, that is enough. As I lay down my all before the Lord, my sacrifice becomes no sacrifice at all. In the light of God's mercy and grace, my life becomes an offering.

I am grateful...
That Jesus knows.
That Jesus cares.
That Jesus is at work when I can't see it.
That I belong to Him.

Dear Thunder and Lightning.

2009-10-12T10:33:00.000-07:00

Dear Thunder and Lightning,

I have always loved you. Always. I love the sound of your powerful rumblings and how it makes me feel so very vulnerable and small. I love that you make me jump with surprise and shiver in my gut at the strength of your disgruntle voice. I adore the way way you ignite the sky with cracks that seem to need mending. Your illumination awakens the earth to a renewed awareness of what dark really means. You are beautiful and surprising in such a way as to fill me with excitement and adventure. I have always loved you because you display the Sovereignty and Might of our Creator.

I told you, I have always loved you.

I would just like you to know that my love for you has been suspended. I thought we were friends. Why “friends” have you betrayed me? You know what you did. Yes, there I was cleaning up the kitchen after a deliciously cooked meal when with one swoop of the wet wash cloth across the electric stove, you betrayed me. You ELECTROCUTED me. You had to have known as the involuntarily scream passed my lips that our love affair was over. It truly hurt. Physically and emotionally. What were you thinking? Did you honestly think my hair needed to be more curly and Afro-ed? I think not. Did you think I would enjoy this experience? You never even considered how this would make me feel.

I am shocked on so many levels.

I always thought that this friendship was true. I suppose I was wrong. I look forward to your reply and am open to any sort of explanation to this unruly behaviour that you care to offer. I fear, however, were I to hear nothing, I will be forced to withdraw my love from you both and give it to another.

Shocked and Hurt,

Jenna Javens

So Unexpected.

2009-10-10T02:42:00.000-07:00

This past week I celebrated another year of my life. My age, to be honest, seems surreal to me and I began to wonder why that may be. While I am told countless times that I in no way look my age, the truth is, I am 28. Twenty-eight...why do I not feel it? Why is it so hard for me to truly comprehend? Even my own Mum couldn't believe it. As I pondered these mysteries of the big 28 this past week, I came to realize it has a lot to do with how unexpected my life has become.

When I was little I always pictured my life heading in a certain direction. By 28 I would surely be living in a quaint yellow house with a white picket fence, and perfectly green and groomed lawn. My husband and I would be driving our three children and our golden retriever in our family's Grand Wagoneer (yellow with wood paneling, of course) to soccer games and ballet recitals. I would be a teacher in some deliciously decorated elementary school classroom in America and of course, I would be perfectly content and satisfied. I would love Jesus as I always have and my life would be nice, happy, and safe. Very safe.

For many years, this dream was sincere, well thought out and completely expected. Looking back, I am not sure when I outgrew these dreams, but I know there was a time. I think it was when I found myself going deeper into the heart of the Living God. I came to a crossroads when God gave me the choice of whether to cling to the familiar, the safe route or throw everything else aside and abandon for the Kingdom. God began to unfold for me HIS dreams and in patience and grace allowed me to grow into them.

The result has been a breathtaking adventure with a great deal of unexpected twists and turns.
The truth is God loves the unexpected and unfamiliar. He is the ultimate giver of surprises.
Even in Scripture we see again and again that Jesus broke the expectations of the masses and brought the Kingdom of God into full view.

They expected a Mighty King to arrive with force and majesty to rule all nations,

...He arrived on a colt in humility.

They expected a rule keeper and judge,

...He came to give grace, forgiveness, and establish a new covenant.

They expected a Messiah to live high and mighty in his honour and glory,

...Jesus dined with sinners and outcasts.

They expected a Saviour to rescue them and win,

...Jesus died the death of a criminal and seemingly lost.

In reflection of these surprises, I see that the countless unexpected ways of the Master always accomplish the goals of the Kingdom. I know quite well from my own life that God's ways are not my ways. God does not think about things the way that I do. For this, I find such gratitude.

My life is very unexpected. God is constantly challenging the things I value, my priorities, even the desires of my heart. Long ago I surrendered my right to live life safely and instead have decided to embrace the unexpected nature of God's direction. For me, it has meant leaving my home, my friends and family to serve the Lord in Africa. To place value on the small child in front of me, the youth that needs a hug, a word that needs to be communicated from the Father's heart to His people. For you, living dangerously may look very different but in the end, it is worth it.

If somebody had described my life at 28 to me when I was younger, I probably would have laughed like Zachariah, and been left speechless. God has surprised me in so many ways in the last 28 years and the best part is that I have positioned myself for the surprises to keep on coming. I have learned to listen and wait as the Lord shows me what is next and to trust that His ways are to accomplish a goal I cannot always see. I am thankful for God's unexpectedness and look ahead to my future with hope and joy. It has been an incredible journey thus far, but I still have a feeling that the best is yet to come in more unexpected ways.

Not Really Sorry.

2009-10-10T02:14:00.000-07:00

I have not written in ages...

I am ashamed and disgraced, I am agraced.

But not really though because God brought a friend to visit me.

Her name is Noel (Knowllers).

I adore Knowllers.

We laughed so much our stomachs ached and of course tears squirted from my eyes.

We danced in my living room which also made us laugh.

We ministered to those broken, hurting, mourning and in need.

We rejoiced with those who had reason to rejoice.

We lived and loved well.

Friends are such a gift and my heart is still full from the refreshing and restoration that God brought me in my friend Noel.

For truly, “How wonderful, how beautiful, when sisters get along! It's like costly anointing oil flowing down head and beard, flowing down the priestly robes....Yes, that's where God commands the blessing, ordains eternal life.” -Psalm 133

A-to the-Men.

Do not fear...

I am back to my writing ways indeed.

Breathing on the Ordinary.

2009-08-18T12:21:00.000-07:00

I took a teenager to lunch today.

It was a delicious lunch, but that's not the point.

The point is that God told me to.

And I did it.

I drove two hours to town and back with a teenager who I have grown to love.

I listened.

I talked some.

But mostly I listened.

We ate lunch.

And I drove her home.

It was an ordinary thing to do, but somehow deep down I know that God was working.

God was breathing on the ordinary.

In these days I am struck with the truth that God continually calls us to ordinary tasks. Who would ever think that it would be worth the sacrifice to move half way around the world to fold and staple Bible reading plans, cut church invitations, transcribe Bible college courses, paint church signs, prepare Sunday School games, and take a teenager to lunch? But, these are the sorts of things I do and they are worth it. They are ordinary and simple.

For I, too, am ordinary and simple.

But my God, He loves these sort of things.

The ordinary tasks that He establishes for us to do become the target of His very breath.

He speaks, we obey, and then He breathes on the things we do.

He can make a stapled reading plan give a new believer strength to dig into the Word of God.

He can make the church invite become an invitation to a party that will last all of eternity.

He can use the Bible courses to feed the pastors who are called to shepherd their flocks.

He can use a Sunday School game to demonstrate His love for little children.

He can use an ordinary lunch to minister to the heart of a teenager.

In all these things, I am small but my God shows Himself to be Great.

Whatever God has called you to do today, obey Him.

For in that obedience amidst the ordinary things of life, the Living God will breath and cause the “ordinary” to yield eternal consequences for His Glory and Renown.

African Adventure Part III: The Lion King.

2009-08-15T05:22:00.001-07:00

During our holiday to Jo'burg we had the rare privilege of visiting a lion park to see...lions. I was amazed at the beauty, strength, and power that these animals possessed. Seeing these majestic animals strolling about the African scenery made me stop to admire not only the creation but even more the Creator. It is no wonder that God is called the “Lion of the Tribe of Judah.” It was such a delight (and slightly scary) to get to pet lion cubs and see these soon-to-be massive and powerful animals so up close. I did heed the warning, however, to stay from the head and tail. No problem by me.

On our drive through the park, we admired the beautiful lions from the safety of our vehicle as we also marveled at the stupidity of another animal found in the vehicle in front of us. And so it is that I share with you what NOT to do when visiting a lion park...

Keep your windows rolled down. (Duh, it says it on the sign.)
Continue to keep your window rolled down once the lion has jumped onto your car and her mouth is now a mere foot from your face.
Try to take pictures of this previously mentioned lion with your cell phone.
Try to move your vehicle forward with the lion still angrily atop your vehicle.
Think it's funny.
Make the pride of lions so irritated with you that then the vehicles behind you must navigate through a pride of angry lions after you. It's just rude people, rude.

The truck in front of us had this lion angrily pounce on their car and in a second she had ripped off the window frame of their back window. The passengers maintained the status of the rolled down windows and were fully oblivious to the immense amount of danger they were in. FYI when viewing lions even in a lion park in the bush of Africa, they are NOT TAME lions. There is a reason that park has multiple signs advising you to stay in your vehicle, keep windows up, and reminders that they are not liable for any damages (i.e. loss of limbs or life). You enter at your own risk but if you can avoid the stupidity of other human residents, the view of these amazing creatures is well worth it!

Cozy as a Quilt.

2009-08-11T01:46:00.000-07:00

Snuggled up in my bed last night chatting with God I found myself beholding the overwhelming work of friendships in my life. I began to wonder before the Lord how it is that He has given me so many wonderful friends that not only span over years but across various continents as well. I have always been the kind of person who finds it hard to withhold love from those around me and therefore also have a hard time forgetting people or “letting them go” as I have been urged to time and again.

I just can't do it. I was asking God how it is that He has deemed me worthy of being connected with the kind of fabulous people that have crossed my path over the years. These relationships have served to speak truth into the very fabric of who I am, demonstrate a clearer picture of who God is and what He is like and in general fill the pages of my mind with more delicious memories that I could ever finish reading.

As I listened, God flooded my mind with the sweetest picture that not only brought clarity to what relationships such as these mean to Him, but also gave me passion to carry on spilling out His love on those I call friends. God showed me a picture of a cozy, well-loved, yet worn out quilt. The kind that is passed down from generation to generation and grows in beauty as the colours fade and the thread grows thin. This quilt represents the way that God intends my life to be knit together with those around me. Each square is a unique, familiar, slightly worn and real person that God has so intricately knitted my heart to. This quilt has been sown over the years with each loving expression that the Holy Spirit has poured out of me onto those around me.

As His grace, mercy, compassion, love, forgiveness and every delightful aspect of His character is given room to grow and take root in my life, it becomes a thread that reaches out and sews in another stitch of my heart to my friends. The stunning and gentle thread that is the Holy Spirit at work in our lives draws us together. It tells with every loving stitch that you and I belong to something bigger. We each play a role in this family where the architect is the one who made us all. He knows how we fit together to provide comfort, strength, and beauty in such a way as to bring Him glory. The Maker of this quilt takes great pride in His workmanship and in the end, knows that the stitches will work together to sew something that will remain. This quilt will bring Him glory and honour into all eternity.

As I took time to examine each square of relationship that God has so kindly allowed my heart to be knitted to, I found myself undone with gratitude. I began to see the reason I just love loving people. God has deposited that love in my heart for the purpose of withdrawing it to lavish on those around me. It is not that I am exceptionally loving, it is that my Father is. What a gift to not have to go this road alone, a lone quilt square vulnerable and worn. God has knit our hearts together and the truth is whether it's the years or miles that separate us in the physical, you are still stuck with me.

I love you friends.

So it was with this delightful picture firmly in my mind that I cozied up with overwhelming thankfulness for those God has allowed me to call friends. I was warmed by the memories, encouraged by words spoken, and amazed at the ways you have reached out to me. God's work is stunning indeed.

African Adventure Part II: Facing Your Fears

2009-08-09T06:59:00.000-07:00

Now, I am not a fearful person in general. I was not afraid to kill my third teenage-size tarantula in my room last night, I was notorious for being the “bat killer” when I lived in South Africa and while I may be heebed-out (As in they give me the heebie-geebies) on encountering some of God's creatures, I am pretty fearless.

During my holiday in Jo'burg I had the opportunity to get up close personal with plenty of creatures from creepy crawlers to sky-scraping mammals. During my days feeling connected with both Jack Hanna (The Wildlife Expert) and the Crocodile Hunter, I discovered a fear I do possess. I was honestly shocked but there it was again and again staring me in the face. My confession goes as follows...

My Fear: I am afraid of the unpredictable and sudden, spastic movements of animals.

Upon examination of this new self-discovered fear, I began to wonder, “When are the movements of animals ever PREDICTABLE or NON-SPASTIC?” I dare say, I do not know. Does this mean that I am afraid of all animal movements? A pathetic discovery if this is so.

Did I totally run behind a tree when the ostrich which happened to own a beak right at my eye level changed course and ran at me? Heck yes I did.

Did I totally tense up every muscle in my body when the Bearded Dragon was set gingerly on my shoulder? Yep.

Did I abruptly flinch when the enormous giraffe swung its nose towards my face? Oh, yes.

Was I again quite alarmed when the snake started slithering up my arm and towards my neck? You better believe it!

While I have always considered myself one who lacks in the fear department, I am human. After all of these years I am still discovering new things about myself. However, as I look over my fearful confessions I think I am able to better define my real fear....

My REAL Fear: Animals venturing near my face.

I feel in general that this is a valid fear if there ever was one. I mean it's my face, people. Do you want to get your eyes pecked out by a rambunctious ostrich? Your cheek clawed by the un-kept nails of a Bearded Dragon? Your noggin battle rammed by the long snout of Mr. Giraffe? You cannot tell me you seriously want a rare African snake wrapped around your throat? I think not. I am proud to say that in the end I bravely faced my fears with at least some sort of smile. It was overall an adventure and I lived to tell the story. What are you afraid of?

I am the essence of Calm, Cool, and Collected, ne?

African Adventure Part I: Feeding a Giraffe

2009-08-08T04:48:00.000-07:00

This past week the Jorgensens and I had the privilege of getting out of town for some much needed holiday time. Our trip to Jo'burg, South Africa included some very unique African Adventures that I know feel obliged to share with you. Over multiple-part blog entries, I intend to fling back the curtains and throw open the windows to give you a glimpse into life here in Africa.
I hope you enjoy the view.

Feeding a Giraffe

The funny thing about this experience is that I have already fed a giraffe in my life. It was, however, in San Diego and not quite the exotic African experience. As we approached the field we saw that the giraffe was ready to eat and we hustled up the large flight of stairs, waited in the queue behind the Asian tourists and leaped at the opportunity to feed a giraffe right from our hands.

I really do love giraffes. It was amazing to be eye to eye with this massive, beautiful creature. The giraffe was, however, eager to eat and could care less about admiring me. So it was that I reached my little hand into the packet, grabbed a grip load of sawdust-like grub and held it out for the giraffe to partake. What I was not prepared for was the sensation of the gargantuan giraffe tongue that wrapped itself around my entire hand and drew the food into its mouth. This was both very repulsive and tickled a great deal. Lizzy and I were so shocked at the sensation that our reaction eventually freaked Joshua out, poor baby.

While feeding this remarkable creature, I made some mental notes to pass onto you in case you happen upon this same adventurous experience:

a) Be ready for your entire hand to transform into the utensil needed to usher in the Giraffe grub.

b) Don't spaz out, as I did, it scares the babies.

c) The giraffe will not necessarily be interested or amused by you in any way. Just feed it.

d) The giraffe has gigantic eyes, nose, and mouth.

The better to see, hear, and taste you with. Watch out!

e) When given the opportunity to feed a giraffe, totally take it. It's radical.

To Sing Without a Beak.

2009-07-31T02:59:00.000-07:00

I have this wooden bird in my cottage that sits in my cozy little reading nook. It's long, slender neck reaches high towards the Heavens and I call it my “Praise Bird.” Lizzy coined the phrase when she found these carved creatures pointing their beaks to God. When I saw her praise birds worshiping on the kitchen shelf, I knew my house had to have one too.

I handpicked my Praise Bird and settled on its new home in my reading nook as a constant reminder that each day I live should be one stretching my neck towards God and praising Him. This last week a mysterious occurrence happened. I woke up in the morning, glanced in the corner and found that my praise bird was strangely different. Upon closer inspection, I could clearly see that the beak was broken completely off. I searched high and low to find the beak so that I could restore wholeness to my beloved bird, but the beak was no where to be found. An accident must have occurred to de-beak my bird and having no solution for repairing her, I put her back in her spot and carried on with my day.

As the week has gone by I have again and again glanced at my Praise Bird, who is now broken and beak-less. I been struck with the fact that regardless of her state, she continues straining as high as she can to offer praise. It may seem strange but as I look at this funny, little wooden bird, I find within myself a level of relating. At times I have unexpected troubles and trials that come that leave me broken, humiliated, and un-whole. Just like my Praise Bird, I have a choice. I can choose to praise God out of that brokenness or not. The truth is that God, the Almighty, is worthy of praise on good days and bad days. Whether I am feeling strong to stand and declare His worth or I feel as though my life is busted and missing something, He deserves my praise, honour, and adoration.

This week I read, Psalm 92:1-3, it says...

“What a beautiful thing, God, to give thanks, to sing an anthem to you, the High God! To announce your love each daybreak, sing your faithful presence all through the night...”

My heart is steadied in the truth that God does not change. His character, ways, and presence is never dependent on the state of my heart and circumstances. Amen, Hallelujah. As my broken, beak-less Praise Bird stands tall shouting her praises in the corner of my little cottage, so will I choose daily to lift my heart in worship and praise to the One who is always worthy and deserving.

The Coleman 5309.

2009-07-23T11:56:00.000-07:00

Tonight the power went out.

Ahh, to live in a village with “routine” power outages.

As I stumbled through the dark toward the kitchen where a pile of dirty dishes awaited me, I was dreading the task of scrubbing in the dark yet again. But alas, I remembered a little gadget tucked away in my house that would help get the job done. I enlisted my cell phone as a torch and made my way to my cottage where my new favorite gadget awaited me. Don't you worry, those dishes are spotless thanks to the help of the “Coleman 5309 Series”...

...This little puppy commonly used for Spelunking, [Spelunking (verb): the act of exploring caves], can be comfortably fastened to your head using the adjustable strap for hand-free, no-fuss illumination. It's wide-beam light is versatile as it moves up and down vertically for optimal viewing pleasure. Wherever the wearer looks, the Coleman 5309 lights the way with ease.

Once I finally regained my vision after squirting tears from hysterical laughing at how ridiculous I looked/felt, I gathered myself and set to the task of dish doing. The Coleman 5309 worked brilliantly-Oh, that has meaning on so many levels. I highly recommend this new little gadget to be added to this year's birthday and Christmas list. It's a must-have for the season.

Feel free to laugh your head off, I have been doing it all night. Especially when I finally looked in the mirror. I dearly love to laugh.

Still Standing.

2009-07-20T12:29:00.000-07:00

I have been silent for some time...I have wanted to write but have felt I better keep quiet. I have sought solitude in pursuit of some much needed perspective and soul sorting out that could only be done in the secret, quiet places with my Saviour. It hasn't been easy but I am sensing His restoration and strength renewing me day by day.

Throughout the last few weeks, I have heard echoes of His Word deep in my spirit.

He has said...

“Do not grow weary in doing good,

for in due season you will reap a harvest if you do not give up.”

(Galatians 6:9)

To be honest,

I have grown weary.

Circumstances have threatened my view of God and who He is.

My faith has seemed as small as a mustard seed.

I have been beat down and challenged.

I have wanted to give up.

Each new day I have run to Jesus from a place of wondering, weakness, and brokenness and found that His strength has renewed me. He has reminded me that He has created me to not be a quitter, that HE is the Author and Finisher of my faith, and that He is enough.

The strength of God's Spirit within me has caused me to stand. I have stood and I have purposed to sow seeds of obedience, sacrifice, and worship. I cannot see the harvest quite yet, but I know it is on its way. For He has promised and He is faithful.

When I'm 94.

2009-06-14T07:36:00.000-07:00

I recently happened upon this darling picture of my Great Grandma

(who we fondly called, “Grandma Great”) that has been making my heart smile all week.

She was 94 when this picture was taken.

Please note the giant sun hat, the dainty white pearls, and her tender little smirk.

I will have you know if by any chance I live to be 94 years old, I fully intend to look exactly like this.

By the way, Grandma Great had a robust version of “Onward Christian Soldiers,” played at her funeral. It was brilliant.

The Posture of My Pursuit.

2009-06-12T12:31:00.000-07:00

God so gently and tenderly revealed to me today why I so often find myself spiritually sore.
The truth is I won't stay down.
I humble myself in adoration and love before my King, longing to serve Him and His people.
Then, the next thing I know, I have popped up again, out of that attitude of humility.

In Philippians 2:7, it describes my Saviour who,
“...Set aside the privileges of deity (though He totally could have claimed them) and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process.” (Italics mine:)

I am amazed that not only did God choose to humble Himself for me, but also that He chose to STAY humbled.
It's the Bent-Down Gospel at its best!
He became a servant and stayed a servant because He knew it pleased the Father.

I am weary of the repetitive spiritual squats that I frequently feel it necessary to do.
I go from humility
to selfishness
to humility
to entitlement
to humility
to plenty of other postures that in no way please God.

In these days I feel called to purposefully adore the Lord better.
This knowingly will involve staying face down before Him.
And so, friends, I am prayerfully down for the count.
Humbled in the Presence of the Almighty.

Confessions of a Manual Laborer.

2009-06-01T11:37:00.000-07:00

Over the past month and a half I have had the rare “privilege” of getting an up close and personal look at the life of a builder and/or manual laborer. While finishing my darling cottage I turned into a sort of apprentice to the trades of tiling, painting, furniture staining and countless other odd jobs. To be honest, it hasn't always been pretty and has included a plethora of wounds, mishaps, and even late night work by candlelight. Through the 8 hour days exerting myself in ways I have never experienced, I have come to make some observations regarding the life of a builder. Take them for what they are, the confessions and random thoughts of an outsider looking in on a world previously unknown.

Manual Labor. Does anyone else notice that the word “MAN” is in the very title? Now I am a rather hard working and independent woman, if I don't say so myself, but I realize now that the reference to “Man” in the title of this sort of work should have at least served as a warning to me. This kind of work is stinkin' hard and ordinarily used to help the men (or women in this case) doing the work feel a sense of masculinity and affirm their strength and gender. Had I stopped to recognize that this is a purpose within manual labor, I perhaps would have a) Given myself some grace and b) Perhaps let someone else help.
A Lesson on Glove Wearing. Perhaps, like me, you may someday find yourself in the position of working with materials that are known to be harmful to your skin and include a mild, yet present warning on the back of the packaging recommending that you wear gloves. My advice on this one is that you WEAR GLOVES. Do not think to yourself, “Well, Tyler (insert any name here) never needs to wear gloves and he was actually a builder, HA why should I?” or “Warnings, shwarnings, how can I possibly work with such exact perfection were I to wear the said dorky looking and sweat-producing gloves?” Blame me. I failed to wear gloves while grouting my shower and thought the whole day I merely cut my finger which thus began the stinging. I WAS WRONG. The chemicals in fact ate the tips of four of my fingers off , boring holes into them that became like open sores that legitimately hurt like none other and didn't heal for weeks. When in doubt, heed the warnings.
Man Hands. This topic spirals off of the “Wear Gloves” advisory. Again, I should have stopped to think that partaking in MANual labor would naturally replace my dear, sweet, dainty little hands with MAN HANDS. What are “man hands” you ask? They are defined as hands that mysteriously peal in random places, have cuts, sores, and bruises who's origins are unidentifiable, nails often broken off and you better believe have paint, dirt, concrete, and various other materials forever embedded in every nook and cranny. My lovely hands are still recovering from their month-long thrashing and so again I say, if you can, wear gloves.
Fun Tools. Yep, I'll admit it. I actually pride myself on now being able to peruse the aisles of Builder's World fully aware of the names and uses of the plethora of tools and materials. From chuck keys to trowels, and fascia board to galvanized pipes, I have grown in familiarity and now see why men like their power tools. They're fun. But the real question is, have you ever used a chalk line? For those of you who don't know, a chalk line is a little magical tool that places a straight chalk line (thus the name) in brilliant violet across any surface with precision and ease. The perfectionist within was mesmerized by it again and again. I totally want one for my birthday.
R-E-S-P-ECT. In a nutshell, my month and a half chained to my cottage working early mornings to late, late nights has given me a deep sense of respect for those individuals who do manual labor for a living. It is hard work. This may seem obvious but working with nasty materials, dangerous power tools, toxic fumes, sweat dripping, consistently covered in something, day in and day out, is not all it's cracked up to be. I am grateful that I had the opportunity to physically invest and work hard to complete my little cottage, learn so many random skills and prove to myself that MANual labor is not just for men. However, I am relieved to be DONE. Amen, hallelujah!

He Beckons.

2009-05-31T12:33:00.000-07:00

Romans 8:14 (MSG)
God's Spirit beckons.
There are things to do and places to go!

God calls us to a new life. A life that is adventurously expectant on Him and His purposes in us to glorify Himself. The book of Romans has been nourishing me this week but I keep finding myself back at verse 14 of chapter 8. I am in a season where the Spirit of God is calling me to deeper levels of faith, trust and intimacy with Him. The Spirit of God truly beckons me. I hear His whisper telling me there is more of Him, more to this life in abundance, more than I ever dreamed or imagined. I don't know how to get this “more” but I can't help but feel my tiny box of expectations and my minuscule vision burst at these stirrings of God. The Almighty is surely on the move. Like a child, wide-eyed with anticipation, I want to be sure to be in these places to see these things that God is up to.

May you sense the Spirit of the Living God beckoning you.
This abundant life in Christ isn't what I thought it was.
I assure you, there is more. God is beckoning.

A Little Waddle as I Wait.

2009-05-28T08:27:00.000-07:00

Wait.

Wait and I have a love/hate relationship and always have. Nobody seems to want to wait for anything these days. I am, however, notorious for my ability to delay gratification. I love to wait to open presents on my birthday, wait to tear into packages until I am home from the post office (these days that's an hour away), and I always wait to read mail later on when I am free to savor and soak in every word. It may seem strange to be this way in the give-it-to-me-now society of which we presently find ourselves. I secretly love the ability to refrain, holding back until the timing is perfect. As anticipation grows, so does my sense of excitement and delight. I will work harder, stay more focused, and gain a strength along the way when I know something good awaits me.

God knew that in this life of chasing after Him that we would find ourselves in many, many situations where we have to wait. A wise friend once taught me that waiting can't mean idleness nor is it passive. It takes fierce faith and active trust to wait on the promises of God. It is dangerous to hope in the whispers of God while waiting for a glimmer of confirmation on the horizon.

This week in Romans 8:25 I read,

“That is why waiting doesn't diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don't see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.”

Paul in this verse is describing humanity and all creation waiting upon the full deliverance into the Kingdom God. I find it poignant that he likens waiting on the promises of God to the waiting of a pregnant mother. As she waits, she grows. Whether or not she wants to wait, there is something being knitted together in her AS she waits that demands time. Though I myself have yet to be pregnant, I can tell you from watching my dear friend here in Botswana that the waiting of a pregnant mom is uncomfortable and painful along the way. However, we all know that the life created out of that hidden place deep within is more than worth the nine months of pain.

God knows that the seasons we wait upon Him will develop deeper levels of faith and trust in Him, and produce a deep, eternal work in us. There have been many seasons of my life where I am ashamed to say I have not allowed God to produce all that He could have as I was waiting. Sometimes I forget that the Creator of time doesn't waste it and is committed to finishing the work He has begun in me. When that means I must wait, He is faithful to ignore my whimpers and His Spirit is right alongside helping me along (Romans 8:26).

In these days as I wait upon the Lord, I intend to let the waiting enlarge the Kingdom of God in me. I have purposed to grow so joyful in expectancy and anticipation that like the massive belly of a pregnant mother people won't be able to easily maneuver around it. May the delight and joy from the hidden work God is doing inside of me enter a room before me, bump into strangers, and make me walk a little different.

In Love With a Chair.

2009-05-23T11:39:00.000-07:00

I have officially fallen in love with a chair.

Sounds silly, I know. But, it is totally true.

I know because I can't stop looking at it.

It also makes me burst forth with that little squealing noise that only comes out of me when I am utterly excited.

Why do I love this chair?

Perhaps it's because it's adorable and cozy, because it totally is.

Maybe it's because it is short and tiny kind of like me.

It may be because it's made of darling hand-woven wicker material.

It also has happily filled a previously lonely corner in my new little cottage.

It could be because a dear Motswana man spent 4 days weaving it and then waiting to sell it to me on the side of the road.

It also faces the sunsets that paint God's glory across the sky.

All these reasons are valid and have solidified my love and devotion to my new little chair.

However, the best reason I am in love with my new chair is because Jesus meets me there.

Early in the morning, snuggled with a cup of tea, my Bible, journal, and my new little chair meet with my Precious Saviour.

I think God likes my chair too.

He made sure we found each other amidst the vastness of the African bush.

I love my chair and I am pretty sure my chair loves me.

A Life Lived in Response.

2009-05-22T12:21:00.000-07:00

“What we've learned is this: God does not respond to what we do; we respond to what God does. We've finally figured it out. Our lives get in step with God and all others by letting Him set the pace, not by proudly or anxiously trying to run the parade.”
Romans 3:27-28

Today in the midst of His Presence I heard a whisper of His Word that stopped me in my tracks.
It caused my striving and wrestling to cease.
The burden of self-judgment and disappointment fell off my shoulders.
God has called me to simply live a life in response to Him and what He has already done.

Because He has shown me extravagant love, I can show love.
He has been merciful to me, so I can show mercy.
I walk daily in His grace towards me, now I can be full of grace.
He has been so gentle to me, so I can show gentleness.
He has believed in and for me, now I can believe in Him.
God has shown unending compassion on me,
now I am free to be compassionate.
Somehow He delights in me, and He has become my delight.

A life lived in response to the magnificent works of God
requires something of me.
I have to know His ways.
I have to know where His Spirit is brilliantly on the move.
I must daily expose my soul to the Presence of the Living God.
My regular response must be one of worship and awe.
My heart is stirred to never miss an opportunity to respond to the majestic ways of my Maker.

Investing Partners.

2009-05-09T01:53:00.000-07:00

“The servant given one thousand said, 'Master I know you have high standards and hate careless ways, that you demand the best and make no allowances for error. I was afraid I might disappoint you, so I found a good hiding place and secured your money. Here it is, safe and sound down to the last cent.'

“The Master was furious. 'That's a terrible way to live! It's criminal to live cautiously like that!...The least you could have done would have been to invest the sum with the bankers, where at least I would have gotten a little interest.

'Take the thousand and give it to the one who risked the most. And get rid of this “play-it-safe” who won't go out on a limb.”
Matthew 25:24-30

With valuable things, I like to be cautious. For they are valuable things.
I am not necessarily the kind of person who likes to takes risks either.
In fact the very thought of skydiving instantly puts my heart into panic mode.
I know nothing about investing money or buying stocks in “risky financial endeavors.”
But really none of this matters.
That's not at all what Jesus is talking about here.
I fear the literal interpretation of this story would leave me right in the position of the last, unfaithful investor. I can be a real wimp, cautious, and not willing to risk anything.

When I think about this story, however, I sense that something has been deposited in me that is bubbling to the surface of my heart. My account is not empty. Not only has there been a deposit but there is an urge to defy my natural wimpy instincts.
In fact, I have been given something to invest. My Master paid a great price for the chance to entrust to me certain exceptional aspects of His Kingdom.
God continually asks me to risk it all for the Kingdom of God.
I am at a crossroads which demands my all.
I cannot “play-it-safe” now. I have already climbed my little self out on that limb and lately I have been looking at the possibility that I may smack my face against that not-so-soft-looking ground.
I forgot how much courage it takes to follow Jesus. I can't muster it up either.
I have already confessed I am mostly a wimp. But then the Spirit reminds me of something.

Jesus hung out on a limb for me.
He took a risk, investing His very life
for the chance that I would say, “Yes,” to Him.
He refused to live cautiously. He raised a ruckus for the Kingdom of God regaining territory that needed reclaiming. This included my heart and life.
For the One who paid to invest in me, I can find no other response.
I will risk all of my hopes, dreams, and desires for things that are more valuable, things that will last into all eternity. He becomes my strength, my courage, my reward.
I refuse to squander the deposit made in me. I want to double my investment and hear the words, “Good work! You did your job well. From now on be my partner.” (25:21)

To Whomever Rooster This May Concern.

2009-05-01T12:52:00.000-07:00

To Whomever Rooster This May Concern,
This letter is addressed specifically to the Roosters living in the Makakatlala neighborhood of Mochudi, Botswana. I am writing in response to a problem we have been having that has been ongoing and perhaps has not been placed squarely on your radar of neighborhood issues. It is my duty as a resident of Makakatlala to inform that there are roosters creating quite a ruckus during off hours for your specie. I am quite aware that with the new union agreements you have received a raise and that your hours have been adjusted for optimal sleeping/cockadoodledooing shifts but there are some roosters (dare I say more than one) who have been taking advantage of the new schedule and haphazardly cockadoodledoing during hours including but not limited to 1:34 AM, 3:52 AM, and even 9:15 AM (9:15 AM really? This roosters tardiness is embarrassing).

A little strange don't you think? Please correct me if I am wrong but my understanding since I was a small child is that the whole cockadoodledooing was established to announce to the world the sun has risen, a new day is upon us and yes, we must roll out of bed get going. I would just like to point out that the above mentioned hours that I have been hearing the disturbing roosters gone crazy has in no way included the rising sun or the dawning of a fresh day but rather has done nothing but disturb my much-needed sleep of which I am already surviving on the minimum. I have already asked myself, “Why on earth would a rooster crow at 1:34 AM?” I have come up with some hypothesis that can be investigated and prayerfully dealt with at your discretion. You will find my hypothesis and rebuttals below. I appreciate you taking the time to read my complaint and look forward to a speedy remedy to the situation.

Sincerely Your Sleepy Resident,
Jenna Javens

Reasons Why A Rooster Would Cockadoodledoo during off hours:
1.These roosters are idiot roosters and have no concept of the purpose of their cockadoodledooing and therefore should be fired.

2.Said roosters are hoping that by gallivanting all over the neighborhood at unseemly hours will attract the new hens that just moved in down the street. (Guys, your crowing needs some work besides just pertaining to timing. These hens like the strong silent types who still have some mystery left to them. I say ZIP IT.)

3.Perhaps said roosters are trying to represent the various time zones of residents in the area by crowing at the appropriate time that the sun would be rising in the various homelands. (Ahhh, how sweet. Ok, not really at all, knock it off.)

4.There are too many roosters in the neighborhood competing for the first shot at announcing the sunrise. Survival of the fittest means that the lesser roosters must take the 1:34 AM slot as opposed to the ACTUAL sunrise. (I say take some stinkin' turns. Maybe one day you could sleep in and let the others have a try.)

5.After final analysis of the various reasons responsible for this irritating disturbance to my nightly sleep, I find there are no excuses. These rebellious roosters have got to go.

Off the Top Of My Heart.

2009-04-02T13:45:00.000-07:00

God ruined my heart again today.
In the best way.
When you give God your heart,
He will surely show you how His feels.
It feels broken for this broken world.

After letting him take my heart to new depths of brokenness,
I got to sensing that there is a huge world out there,
people broken, hurting,
lost, falling apart,
silently screaming for SOMEBODY
to hold out life to them.
To really LIVE.

The only way to be that person is to find out what God is asking of you,
throw everything else aside,
run hard after God,
and do that thing in the center of God's will.
Live.

It may be to hold a baby suffering with HIV,
loving someone that nobody else sees,
being faithful when it's hard,
believing the promises God has whispered.
Whatever you can do, please do it.
Nobody can do what you were designed by God to do.

What we do may seem small,
but our God is BIG.

Toothpaste.

2009-04-01T12:30:00.000-07:00

I just spent a legitimate amount of time wrestling the last few drops out of my toothpaste.
I don't want to let it go.
Why? You ask.

If I admit defeat I have to throw away yet another link to the States,
my other home.
I had to buy African toothpaste today.
It made me sad.
African toothpaste is just like American toothpaste.
Only different.
It's from Africa and not America.

It's the small things that remind you that half way around the world is
another home.
A home in which I love and miss.
People whom I adore and ache to see.
However, God put me here...where they sell African toothpaste.

Decidedly, tomorrow morning I will enjoy my last day of American toothpaste.
Just know friends, my toothpaste will make me think of you.
It's true.

African Driving School.

2009-03-31T13:05:00.000-07:00

I recently had the rare “privilege” of finding myself surviving the “Botswana Driving School-Baptism by Fire,” (aka pray lots, drive quickly, and watch for everything on the road), and I am happy to report that I am officially an African driver. Throughout the week of passing the various, unexpected driving tests, I found myself compiling a little list of do's and don't's that I feel obligated to pass onto you non-African drivers. Considering the fact that the real Botswana driving schools consist of 10 cones on the side of a dirt shoulder, I think it would be helpful for any sensible person driving in Africa (HA, that's an oxymoron!) to take note of the few words of wisdom I have now compiled. Check it.

African Driving Rules: (The section they forgot to write)

1.Driving on the “OTHER” side of the Road and Car: Do not be alarmed, you aren't seeing things. People ARE driving on the left side of the road and right-hand side of the car. You'll get used to it. Shifting with your left hand (yea for lefties), turning right into the far, left lane and proceeding clockwise around the traffic circles. My secret is focus your attention on the car in front of you, it's like follow the leader. I love a challenge.

2.Traffic Circles: Yielding at a traffic circle (roundabout) is necessary but you must prepare yourself to go from 0 to 80 if you have any hopes of carrying on towards you destination. I suggest pausing and then flooring it. Traffic circles=survival of the fittest.

3.Yellow Lights: Before even thinking about stopping or slowing down for a yellow light look in your rear view mirror to make sure that there is NO car behind you. If there is any form of a vehicle or transport within vision, floor it. You stop, you die.

4.Animals: You will see a myriad of wildlife obstructing your ability to drive at any given moment. Keep your eyes peeled and your hand near the button for the hazards (signal for animals). If you are lucky, like me, you TOO may see chickens, donkeys, goats, mating sheep and drunk men standing in the middle of the road while going on a 10 minute errand. (While drunk men may not appear to fit in this category of “animals” I assure, they are.) Feel free to honk to your heart's content!

5.Taxis: Avoid them at all costs. Taxi driver's are under the impression that there are no rules to the road and if they stick their arm out of the window while driving 80 directly at your car to “signal”, they are following strict lines of “etiquette.” When you see a taxi or sense one creeping up from behind...BE AGGRESSIVE, B-E AGGRESSIVE!

6.Donkey carts: Yes, although we are living in 2009 you will encounter carts being pulled by donkeys alongside somebodies new Audi A4. They are quaint, charming, and vital in reminding you that, yes, this is Mama Africa. Take a picture if you like but prepared for lots of swerving, donkeys are like that AND hand on that hazard button, remember.

7.Driving at night:
This is easy, DON'T.

8.Driving in any parking lot on a Saturday (i.e. Builder's World):
If you choose to foolishly venture out on any sort of errand on a Saturday be prepared to perform a plethora of driving maneuvers only attempted by the experts. Just know, you WILL be parked in more than once and be forced to back your vehicle in and around other vehicles while being stared at by a large audience of men doubting your ability to avoid the roofing materials, lumber and the million other cars that just pulled in behind you. (FYI: I passed this test with flying colors. I channeled my Father's backing-up abilities and gave the audience of men something to talk about...”Who is that white girl who is reversing like it's nobody's business?” Oh, don't worry, it was me.)

9.Getting Lost:
Don't panic. Don't attempt to convince yourself that you do or don't recognize that bush on the side of the road. Believe me, they all look the same. PRAY. Truly, only God knows where you are. He'll get you home.

Thunderstorm.

2009-03-21T00:21:00.000-07:00

The thunder is grumbling and stirring in the sky,
deep rumbles and pounding until it builds to its climax.

Crash after crash it hollers so loudly it rattles the windows,
not to mention my bones.

The lightning is flashing like a magnificent burst of visual energy igniting the sky.
Then the lights go out.

I find myself admiring the brilliance of this thunderstorm.
It makes me think of Elijah hiding in a cave waiting for God to speak. Like in the thunder, God expressed His power and might amidst the wonders of nature. Earthquakes, mighty destructive wind, and a raging fire. Even now as I hear the thunder roar, I feel so very small. I sense a sliver of the immense power of the God behind this storm. He is the Almighty.

Yet, just as Elijah cowering in a cave experienced the power of our God.
The truth is God chose not to speak with an earth shattering display of nature.
Nope.

God chose to whisper. Mmmmm. I love that.
The Almighty God whose very Words created the fierce powers behind nature, who is Sovereign above all, commanding the wind and seas to obey His very Words, He likes to whisper.

I savor this paradox.
The Almighty expressing His power in the tenderness and intimacy of a whisper.
As I sit here in the dark watching the show, you better believe I'll be craning my ear for that whisper.

2009-03-19T09:50:00.000-07:00

Mochudi, Botswana
According to the Five Senses

It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words. However, a captivating memory that instantly flashes a vivid picture of a time or a place that you once knew is often triggered by a sound, a smell, a delectable taste. I have found the myriad of memories stored in my mind like frames on a reel are captured as I experience life through the five senses God gave me. And so it is that I hope to take you on an adventure of my senses to my life living in the quaint little town (realistically a village) of Mochudi, Botswana where God has called my home. I want to share with you the things I have seen, smelled, heard, tasted, and felt over the past month and half. So here it is (in list form)...take a gander.

A Word from my Senses:

Sights of:
Kilometres and kilometres of green pastures, winding, pot hole-covered dirt roads, friendly faces of Mmas (Ma's) and Rra (Ra's) waving hello, tiny concrete homes, children flailing to wave frantically at the white people, birds flying and nesting in the roof nooks, cockroaches scurrying away from the spray of Doom, donkeys charging the vehicle, babies being carried on their Mama's backs, everything being carried on peoples' heads, children waiting impatiently for the gate to open for church, a small group of faithful church members gathering under the carport joyfully worshiping God, my cottage taking shape, breathtaking sunsets, God on the move in the bush of Botswana.

Smells of:
Burning rubbish and brush, cow manure, curry cooking, Joshua's dirty diapers, wet concrete smelling fresh and metallic, children smelling of sweet dirt and half eaten sweets, the stench of malfunctioning septic tanks, baby shampoo, sugary sugary Sunday school juice, toddlers relieving themselves in the yard, body odor (not my own FYI), hair relaxant, and fragrant roses from the garden.

Sounds of:
Roosters incessantly crowing from 4am on, birds screeching loudly, prolonged echoes of donkeys hee-hawing, persistent cow bells warning of meandering cow families, Joshua crying, cooing, laughing with delight, neighbor children singing praise songs from church outside the gate, hammering, pounding, scrapping cement, skill saws cutting with precision, shovels flinging sand, rocks, soil, and cement, Tyler playing the guitar, squeaking doors, neighbors shouting greetings in Setswana, taxi drivers racing down the dirt road blaring techno music, soccer fans cheering, rain pounding vertically and horizontally, thunder shaking the house, and every bug known to man buzzing in my ear.

Tastes of:
Chocolate chip cookies, tacos, pizza, lasagna, boervoers (African sausage), Pita sandwiches, banana bread, fried chicken, rice, beef stew, pudding cake, boiled bread (African style), curry chicken, fat cooks filled with mince meat (fried bread with ground beef), guavas (glory, guavas!), African fusion sauce, brownies, chapati (fat tortillas), and dry, tasteless Sunday School biscuits.
(Ok, that is totally just yummy Jorgensen food for the most part!
Needless to say, I am eating quite well!)

Feelings of:
Soft baby skin oiled with lotion, rough heads covered with braids and coarse curls, tiny hands grasping mine, guitar strings digging grooves in my poor fingers, hand shakes of kind, sincere new friends, sand and dirt between my toes, clothes pins clamping on sopping wet clothing, rough concrete-covered walls soon to be my cottage, plastic church chairs lovingly arranged, wrinkled, peeling hands from dish washing, refreshing air con wind bringing relief in the heat, humidity to transform my hair into an afro, thorns jabbing into the soles of my feet, damp air in the stillness after the rain, joy and a bubbling brook of hope. Such great hope.

Identity.

2009-03-03T01:25:00.000-08:00

Who am I? Who am I becoming? After living for 27 years on the planet, I thought I would have more things figured out. I may not have the answers to these questions, but I know the One who does. I may not be certain of my identity, but I know who is forming and creating it. It is not common for me to be one whose identity gets caught up in a passing trend or shifts like the wind when insecurity comes. However, I find myself wondering if the way that I see myself today is the same way that God sees me.

Through the years, I have found myself wearing a variety of hats with names to apply. As a child, I was “Little Javens,” a not-so beloved title that identified me as the baby sister to my older and much cooler big brothers. I have been a “Babysitter” to the masses, “Nanny” to the rest, “Teacher” or “Miss” to children all over the globe. I have been “Sweet Pea” to my Mum, and “Jen” to my Dad. I have been a “Missionary” to gracious friends who have learned to love Africa, and most recently become a “Pastor.” Each name tells a different story of a season of my life. Some names better reflect who I really am while others I have left behind to move forward into something bigger that God had. At the end of the day, however, when I lay my head on the pillow, who am I?

Don't fear, I have not found myself in the middle of an identity crisis of any kind. In fact, it has been in recent years that I have become quite comfortable being in my own skin. The truth that I know I belong to God has allowed the wrestling with these questions to subside. I suppose the better question is, who do I want to be? If the world must apply a label, what do I want to be know for?

As I sit here and ponder these questions, my spirit percolates and simmers on two main ideas:

The first truth I know is that I must be known as the Beloved of God. I find this name has such power to restore me. While I wouldn't mind others calling me this, in actuality there is only One who can whisper this name in such a way as to settle me. When I forget who I am, or insecurity threatens my certain steps, it is that powerful whisper of, “Beloved,” that transforms me. I remember who I am in God, who I was created to be, and the pressure of this world to be something great fades away. For as His Beloved, I receive the privilege of reciprocating the name. God is and always will be my Beloved as well.
The second truth is found in Psalm 34:5, it says,

“Those who look to Him are Radiant.”

That's it. I want to be known as Radiant. Not because I am pretty, or extremely gifted, not because my friends think I am wonderful or I give my life for God. I want to be radiant because I am consistently found looking to Him. The One who formed me and called me by name. Just like Moses' face radiated because he had met with God, I ache for my life to so radiate the presence of God that it sweetly draws people to Him. Seasons of life may come and go. My name and title may shift here and there. Whether I am 27 or 94, I will be found looking to Him, my Beloved, and soaking up the truth that whoever I am, I am His.

Whispers in the Storm.

2009-02-22T07:34:00.000-08:00

They should have never set sail from Fair Havens.

For now the rains poured, winds raged on, waves buffeting the ship to and fro, the cargo already tossed overboard, the ship reinforced with ropes, the future looked bleak.

There was little chance of survival. Yet, in the midst of this raging storm, God spoke a promise.

Paul, a prisoner aboard this ship headed for trial before Caesar, heard the whispered promise. He not only heard, but Believed. It took courage, for he knew that as a child and servant of the King, the promises of God stand. God had said that though the wind, rain, and waves continue in their violent course, though the ship be destroyed, all aboard their ship would survive.

As Paul confidently and faithfully proclaimed the whispered promise amidst his fellow travelers, it was as though nature begged to differ. The winds blew harder, the waves crashed with terror, and the ship began to creak and break under the pressure. Fear had set in. The sailors frantically heaving anchors and trying to stay afloat caught sight of the lifeboats.

Lifeboats. Freedom. Safety. Salvation amidst chaos and uncertainty.
Plan B in case God failed to show up.
Yes, they had all heard the whisper of hope in the storm, but just in case.
After all, circumstances now contradicted the promise.

Paul knew better. He knew the One in whom he had put his trust. He knew that God would do exactly what He had promised. Reaching out in faith he stood firm. Demanding that the sailors stay aboard.

With one clip the ropes were cut as the lifeboats fell deep into the raging sea. No Plan B. It was time for God to show up. It was time for the whispers in the storm to become reality. As the storm carried on its attack, the night seemed endless. Then, with a thin line of hope piercing through the darkness, morning dawned. Land appeared, the ship run aground in its fragile frame, and the men swam to shore.
All had survived without a scratch.

Though I have never set sail, I have found myself amidst storms of life. Not just any storms but storms of circumstances that seem to target and undermine the promises of God for me. I have ached to hear the promises shouted from Heaven, written on the wall, appearing in the fire. As the storms have raged on, I repeatedly hear the faintest whisper. Whispers of hope, of direction, of my heart's desires.

All I see contradicts what I have heard. I catch sight of a lifeboat...a way for me to rescue myself, accomplish the things I long for, that I've asked God for. Then I see the gaze of the Promiser. He requires no Plan B. He doesn't waste His time whispering to me. He means what He has said. With one willful decision I cut ties to any lifeboats. I will, like Paul, believe.

In some areas of life I have seen the promises of God become reality. For all the other whispers, it is time for God to show up and accomplish all that He has spoken. He will. I am certain of it in my life and yours. Sever your ties to any Plan B. God is not slow in keeping His promises. He is faithful and His Word stands true.

Home

2009-02-13T09:05:00.000-08:00

There is no place like home,

there is no place like home.

Even still I can see those sparkling ruby slippers click, click as these words are repeated in my mind. Home. Such a small word that can stir up such a myriad of memories to tickle the senses. Perhaps it's the smell of your mom's famous cookies baking in the oven, the sound of your family and friends laughing in the living room, the feel of your childhood comforter snuggled tight to your chin, or the faces that remind you who you were and love you how your are. Home, I truly love it.

Over the past years, I have found myself away from home more than I ever thought I would. Having always considered myself a Homebody I have been struck with how little I have been “home.” With the uncertainties of life I have been challenged to discover how I can establish, enjoy, and rest in the many homes I have inhabited. From guest rooms to living rooms to blow up mattresses to fungus-filled apartments, my many “homes” in the last year have challenged what I had previously considered my security and place of refuge. How does a Homebody turn into a humble transient with joy and delight? Here is my secret...I found it in Psalm 119:54,

“Your decrees are the theme of my song, no matter where I lodge.”

It may seem cheesy and simplistic, but for me it has been what has allowed me to walk in the security, refuge and consistency that a home should offer. My home is securely fastened to the One who travels with me, Jesus Christ. I find His very words become like bricks to surround and form about me the protective walls of my house. His promises are my foundation which hold me steadfast. His whispers decorate the walls with comfort and joy. God is my shelter, the one who settles my spirit no matter where I lodge. His very decrees are the theme-song (I've always wanted one of those) for my life whether in Bend, OR or Botswana, Africa.

I love Him and am only at home in His presence.

I find it a profound mystery that God could take a homebody from Beaverton, OR and cause me to travel the world...setting up home here and there. God has shown me that my home is first in Him and then in those people who He surrounds me with. From Portland to Bend to Botswana. I am richly blessed to have homes filled with people I love that I can always return to. The homesick ache I often feel to be this place or that with people I miss, reminds me too that this world is not our home. When all this passes away, God and His Word will still remain. On that day, my home will still be standing.

Smells of Cilantro.

2008-11-17T22:41:00.000-08:00

The night smelled not of winter as I suspected it would...

it smelled of cilantro.

I know, strange.
I thought it was just in the church parking lot but alas,
it smelled like cilantro at my house too.

What does that mean?

Laundry with Jesus.

2008-11-15T22:16:00.000-08:00

In the past week I have been struck with the simplicity and yet profound mystery of just being with Jesus.

I have been overwhelmed at the thought that God of the universe wants to be with me. He does! He was with me in the ordinary and I sensed His nearness and delight in me at the strangest of moments...

He was there when I browsed around at Target.
( I am sure Jesus loves Target, I mean it's Target.)

He was there when I ate lunch with His Word at Quiznos.

He was there when I slept in and then drank a cup of Paris tea.

He joined me in the laundry room as I sorted my clothes.

He spoke to me as I attempted to tame the mane He gave me.

He encouraged me as I obediently headed off to work.

In the past week I have enjoyed the treasure it is to recognize that my "time with Jesus" is not limited to the moments I spend in the morning with Him. I have grown tired of compartmentalizing my life in such a way to miss out on the truth that Jesus IS and wants to be with me.

We can chat, laugh, cry, sing together no matter what mundane activities are a part of each day. I don't understand it, but I sensed Him there. What a mystery. Jesus wants to be so near.

Whatever your days seem to look like, invite Jesus along. It makes it so much sweeter.

Quirks to Live By.

2008-10-25T22:58:00.000-07:00

This blog is completely inspired by my dear friend Katie's confession of her little areas of oddity. I was told recently that I have more "quirks" than the average person. Here are a few strange things about me. I ordinarily think of myself as a fairly normal person, but I am beginning to wonder...you be the judge.

* I have an extreme sensitivity to what I call "soft sounds." You know the sound of people chewing, water trickling, liquids being swallowed, the list goes on. Frankly it makes my skin crawl and it is quite hard to not go weak. Sad but true.

* I make my bed every morning while I am partially still in it. I realize this has OCD tendencies but it's a fact.

* I love monochromatic meals (foods of all one color). I don't know why but it's soothing to me.

* I also have a sensitivity to a few choice words. I will NOT say them here as to provide others with a weapon against me. They are not naughty words, they simply heeb me out (as in the heebie jeebies).

* I love my food really hot! I will even get up and go microwave a meal halfway through.

* I pronounce the word banana like "banawna," magazine like "megazine," and bagel like "begel."

* I layer my cereal...i.e. layer of bananas, Cracklin Oat Bran, and if I am lucky, strawberries!

The list truly is endless.

Go Take a Walk.

2008-10-13T16:19:00.000-07:00

I had the sweetest moment today...
It wasn't too profound or life changing but it sure was sweet. I spent some time talking to God this morning and as I was praying I got this picture in my mind of the most beautiful fall tree. It reminded me of this awesome tree planted by the water in Drake Park. Honestly, I couldn't get this picture out of my mind. So, I put on my new running shoes and my comfy clothes and decided to go for a walk. I had this sense that God was calling me to go on a walk with Him.

While soaking in the sunshine and the brilliance of the Fall trees, Jesus and I just chatted. Mostly I listened as He encouraged my heart. Spoke about the exciting things ahead and reminded me that my utter delight at the beauty of Fall is nothing compared to His delight in His children. The views and weather were perfect and breathtaking. However, they were also nothing compared to my walking buddy today. I felt His nearness, His love, and His simplicity.

While I said that my walk with Jesus wasn't too profound, I guess I was wrong. The truth that the God of the Universe beckoned me to take a walk with Him, hear His voice, and enjoy His company...that is pretty profound.

I did see that tree from my head in Drake Park today and
God reminded me of Psalm 1:3 that talks about the people of God being like that tree...

" They are like trees planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither.
Whatever they do prospers."

I love His Promises and I love Him.

Secrets of the Slammer.

2008-10-13T15:36:00.000-07:00

The Secret is out...
I love prisons.
Now I don't mean the present day penitentiary's. I mean old fashion, dare I say "vintage" prisons. I know it is completely random and strange but I can't help it. I am intrigued with the cell blocks, solitary confinement, prison yards, and even more...prison escapes. I am a huge fan of prison movies (such as The Great Escape, Escape From Alcatraz, Shawshank Redemption, the list goes on) and really, who doesn't like stripes?

The truth is that this secret interest that I have had for quite some time may have been kept locked up (he he) if I hadn't had the awesome opportunity to visit one of these "Rocks." Recently on a visit to California I got to go see Alcatraz and I confess I totally turned into one of those crazy tourists who takes a million pictures and is WAY to excited on the tour.

Here is The Rock in all of it's beauty...
They say, "You break the law, you go to prison. You break the prison law, you got to
Alcatraz!"

Sheer joy! I am sure I am the only prisoner who ever smiled from behind the bars.

After returning to from my trip, I could no longer hide my prison excitement which inspired my awesome roomie to plan a "prison" birthday party for me, which was BRILLIANT. We all wore stripes (because they are cuter than orange jump suits), ate chili & potatoes, and played Mafia. I never I thought I would see my precious friends turn into such thugs. It was a blast!

Plus, I got mug shots of all my the prison guests! How many people do you know have mug shots of all of their friends?? I sure do. Enjoy...

I confess. I love prisons. I loved my prison party. I love my friends.

Mmmm, Good.

2008-10-06T10:35:00.000-07:00

Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see-
how GOOD God is.
Psalm 34:8

I have been struck this morning at the goodness of God. Like a toasty blanket around me or a warm cup of something yummy seeping down to warm my insides, so is the goodness of God. Sitting here in His presence this morning I am overwhelmed at the ways that God demonstrates His goodness in my life.

Looking back over the past few months I stand in awe at the practical and spiritual ways that God has drenched my life with His goodness. I am reminded of the story of the ten lepers who were healed by Jesus in Luke 17. Today I want to be the ONE leper who, in seeing all that Jesus has done, runs back to thank Him. I want to shout my gratitude and make sure that the reflection of His goodness in my life truly brings God glory.

While my heart pours out thanks this morning, I also want to express how thankful I am for the friends that God has given me. I am daily reminded of the goodness of God as I look at each of you. You reflect His character and usher in more of Jesus into my life. I am grateful to walk this way with you. May you soak in the goodness of God in your own lives and know the love I have for you as well.

God is good...Mmmm...take a sip.

Weddings Morning, Noon, and Night.

2008-08-27T11:05:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I had the privilege of flying home for a quick weekend FILLED with weddings. (Two in one day!) My mum and I did the flowers for the first wedding which proved to quite the adventure. I may be a lot of things in life but I am not a florist...we had a blast, stumbled through and in the end made it happen. Here are a few pics of before and after.

All of the wedding festivities were filled with rejoicing, pretty dresses,
flowers, yummy food, cakes galore, and general merriment. As took in all of the weddingness, I began to imagine my wedding day but more than that, I got lost in the thoughts of THE wedding that will occur when Christ returns.

Revelations 19:7 says,
Let us rejoice and be glad and give Him glory! For the wedding of the lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready.

The Wedding of the Bride of Christ (the Church) and the Bridegroom (Christ) coming together on those Heavenly shores. I can't wait! I imagined all of the preparations that my sweet friends Emily and Becca had prior to their Big Days. The planning, inviting, sacrificing tons to make this day all that it should be. Then their is the preparations of the bride. This is no small thing. The bride prepares herself inside and out for the moment that her grinning groom stands at the end of the aisle waiting to receive the gift that His bride is to him.

My dear friends looked beautiful and their weddings were such a precious celebration of their new lives together. However, I couldn't help thinking about how quickly the Big Days pass after all of that preparation. Here's the best thing. The Wedding of Christ and His Bride ushers in a new life together that will last for all eternity!

As I think of that Wedding day, I feel an ache in my spirit to be ready. We the church must be ready! We will be preparing to spend all of eternity worshiping, magnifying, and lifting up our Groom in intimacy that we cannot imagine. What a delight the wedding of the Ages will be!
Oh, Hasten the day!

Congratulations to my sweet friends...
Emily & Jason
Becca & Ryan

Forgiveness and a flat tire.

2008-08-20T14:33:00.000-07:00

I started the day with a flat tire. Again.

After dealing with the tire, I sat down to check blogs and was taken back by a comment that an anonymous person posted on a recent blog of mine.

Recently, I posted a picture that was meant to be funny however it was at the expense of somebody else; setting a poor example for those around me particularly the students that are watching the way I live my life. This anonymous person loved me enough to call me out on it, which they were 100% right on. I instantly felt the sting of conviction and the sickness of sin. I know that I am a sinner but in this seemingly small circumstance I was flooded with the weight of my own uncleanliness. Of course I removed the pic but more than that I ran to the Lord in repentance. In this place of remorse, I found GRACE and FORGIVENESS.

Forgiveness from this and many sins and grace to not stay sick in sin but to be free and clean. Of course God arranged for the 1 John 1:8-9 to be in today's reading.

"If we claim we have no sin, we are only fooling ourselves and not living in the truth. But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness."

Today I have been overwhelmed with a new sense of the grace, mercy, and love of God. I am a Sinner saved by grace. I do not deserve to be forgiven but Jesus declared it so. I am sorry for the foolishness of my sins and SO thankful for His forgiveness.

Short and Sweet.

2008-08-18T15:29:00.000-07:00

Jesus asked her. " Who are you looking for?"
-John 20:15

Simply put, Jesus asked me this same question.
With my life, my pursuit, my purpose...
Who is it I am looking for?

It's got to be Him.
If it is Him, then all I have to do is to come.

The simplicity of His beckoning call. He is actually looking for me.
What a breath of fresh air.

I kayak.

2008-08-18T15:22:00.000-07:00

I Kayak.
After a long awaited kayaking debut, here it is.

The rapids were clearly ngarly...
and I am hard core.

This is reality.

My co-kayaker, dear, sweet Elisa.

Why I Love the Fair.

2008-08-13T11:21:00.000-07:00

Reasons Why I Love the Fair:

(I recently had the privilege of Fair'n' it up and was reminded of the sights, smells, and horrible, yet familiar nauseating feeling from my childhood. Here's a little sampling. Enjoy!)

1. Prizes

2. Goats: Who does not love goats?
(I want names)

3. Rediscovering my childhood obsession with PIGS!
Oh Yes, I LOVED them and they LOVED me!
I bet you didn't have a puffy-painted sweatshirt that said,
"I love Pigs!" I sure did.

4. Small children wearing darling, full-on suits in 90 degree heat.
Muy guapo, si?

5. Rides that make you scream!

6. Pretending to NOT be afraid on the Ferris Wheel.

7. Friends
I know them, I love them!

I need to See His Face.

2008-08-06T14:59:00.000-07:00

I sense the presence of the Living of God today...sweet like cinnamon in the air. It roles around my head, stirs in my heart, and seems so thick at times that I could reach out and touch Him. Oh I need Him, the more I sense Him I am overwhelmed with this insatiable ache within to lay hold of my Sweet Saviour. Oh, He is good.

I read Exodus 33 where Moses boldly asks not only for the Presence of God to go with him, mark his life, but even more-he cries out to see the face of God. Here I am sitting at Backporch and want to weep with this overwhelming desire to have more of this Presence and to SEE HIS FACE.

I sense the Spirit showing me the many places where the face of God has been present in my life in just the past few days. I have seen Him...

In the deep sincerity of Jocelyn, a 7th grade who just accepted the Lord. After hearing the brief gospel story, she looked me in the face and said that she just wished she knew the rest of the story. That was the Spirit at work. I saw Him in that longing. He put that within her. He will meet that desire by showing her His face. Oh how sweet that is.

I saw Him in the faces of my dear friends who send me encouraging notes, speak words of life, confirm God's call on my life, get behind my passions, and believe in me. God is there. He is living and acting in the lives of my friends to minister to my thirsty soul.

God is there in the quiet moments when first wake up in the morning. He satisfies me by letting me see His likeness. He renews me each morning with His mercy, breath of life, grace, and love.

Oh, the love of God. I see Him amazingly coming out of me as I am struck again and again with His heart for the lost around me. He stops me in my tracks to break my heart. To say, "Jenna, this is my heart of love for the world."

I sense His Sovereignty and then in that deep place in my soul I feel the intimacy of the Living God. He is all around us. His face is present where you least expect it. If we are willing to seek the face of God and not just His hands, we will be changed. For no one can see His face and live. (Exodus 33:20) As I encounter the majesty of the face of God around me, I want to be refined, that parts of me may die, and I may more clearly reflect the beauty of His face.

No Difference to Him.

2008-07-08T16:32:00.000-07:00

As I spent sometime with Jesus today I found myself overwhelmed with an ache in my spirit that my life-the way I spend my time, my relationships, words, actions-would matter. I have no interest in mattering as the world deems worth but desire so deeply that my life may matter in eternity, for the Kingdom of God.

In the last week God has provided a job for me at a local restaurant where I carefully inspect and deliver plate after plate of fancy food. While the actual position as an "expo" at a restaurant will do nothing in terms of eternal impact I am struck with the amount of people that I now have contact with on a daily basis. As I have been getting to know this funny mixture of people and sharing with them God's plans for my future, I have to admit that the reactions have been quite hilarious. When I tell them I am moving to Africa to work with HIV/AIDS orphans it is as though a light from Heaven shines down on me and all of a sudden I am in a different league. I assure you this is not the case. I am so humbled and blessed that God would choose to use little me in such a mighty plan of His.

Here is the thing, today I felt Jesus opening my eyes to see my fellow employees with new vision. While it is easy to evoke compassion and effect when thinking about orphans in Africa, God was reminding me that He sees no difference between the hurting ones in Africa and the hurting in Bend. The youth I will be serving in Botswana and the waiters, chefs, and managers in Bend have many similarities. I know, it sounds strange but here's what Jesus showed me:

1) God is passionately pursuing the lost ones to welcome them home.
2) In both places, there are souls at stake.
3) He has powerful plans for every heart present that were created before the beginning of time.
4) There are broken, hurting, wounded people in need of a healer.
5) God has called me to usher in His presence in both places.

Honestly, the list could go on but more than anything I am so encouraged that the call of God on my life is to make a dent in eternity through knowing Him. His heart is so big and He shows no partiality. Tonight as I head into work I know that I will not see with the same eyes. Orphans in Africa or people in Bend, God's heart of compassion and love is bursting for both. I pray that I may serve wherever I am with the same focus and passion, making the life I live mean something to those around me. I ache to be to others the fragrance of Christ and I am so thankful for every glimpse of the Father's heart.

Hope.

2008-07-06T23:11:00.000-07:00

Hope.
I think that quite possibly that is one of the most beautiful words in the English language.

Lately God has been making me stop and take notice of this little word and the thickness behind it. I say thickness because this seemingly ordinary word has intense power within. I believe that the Precious and Powerful Message that Jesus brought to the world was carefully packaged in the wrappings of love and tied neatly with a tender ribbon of Hope. To dig in and receive all that God has, you must encounter Hope.

As I read Isaiah 35:7 this morning, it said, "Springs of water will burst forth out in the wilderness, streams flow in the desert. Hot sands will become a cool oasis, thirsty ground a splashing fountain."

I have to admit, I have found myself in quite the wilderness/desert off and on over the last year and it has been these streams of living water that God brings forth that has given me a deeper understanding of hope. In the natural when one finds oneself wondering in a desert, water of any form is an extreme symbol of hope. The words that I have heard my Father speak is that I am to, "Swim in His Hope." Regardless of my circumstances I can walk through the desert with eyes of faith finding hope bubbling up here and there. The challenge is to not just look at His promises and take a sip, but rather to dive head first and wait for His hope to prove itself. Believe me, His hope will not disappoint.

Here is the remarkable thing: The more you swim in the hope of God, let it surround you, strengthen you, and fill the cracks of doubt that the desert has created, you will find hope pouring out of you. I wish I could pass onto you this deep undercurrent of hope I know possess in my soul. It is real, it is delightful, and it comes straight from the heart of my Daddy.

Hope changes things.
Hope sees what God sees.
Hope is that precious little whisper that always gets the last word.
Hope is bubbling up where you least expect it.

My friends, take a swim in the hope of God and watch it pour out of you.

I am George Costanza.

2008-07-03T18:23:00.000-07:00

Today was like any ordinary day. I was, however, sporting an extra spring in my step because I finally got hired for and began a new job! (Praise the Lord!) After getting off work I purposed to run a few errands never suspecting that I would encounter a quick, yet utterly embarrassing moment. Here it is in its entirety...short but nonetheless quite humbling. (Please feel free to laugh, it was funny.)

There I was walking jauntily out of TJ Maxx with a sense of accomplishment having successfully completed my return. As the automatic doors slid open I was met with the warmth and delight of the afternoon sun on face. I intended to simply slip my newest receipts into a secret section of my wallet so that I would easily be able to locate them on the day (oh there WILL be a day) when I actually balance my checkbook and clean out the plethora of receipts that I have been lugging around for weeks. I approached the curb completely unaware that somewhere in the vicinity of my exact location and more accurately the location of my wallet, there was a storm a'brewin'. Like a whirlwind (a very small one mind you, seeing as though it seemed only to attack my wallet) a GUST of wind blasted my pile of receipts into the air, out of my wallet, and all of a sudden it seemed to be snowing in July.

Picture it...in 2.2 seconds every receipt that you meant to throw away, all of your dorky family pictures, your South African currency (oh, is that just me that carries that in my wallet?) flailing around you in a cyclone-like formation for the world to see. Papers fiercely flew into the street stopping multiple cars en route.

Here is the lowest and yet redeeming part. As I stooped down to start picking up the evidence of my secret disorganization, out of no where people appeared to aid in the rescue. I mean seriously, when I walked out of that store there was no one else around. Yet, miraculously as though they had flown in with the wind there was the grandma, the security guard, the teenager who hopped out of his car, and the friendly couple running around the parking lot attempting to salvage my "valuables." ( It was straight out of a Mr. Rogers episode!) "Neighbors" from all around pitched in to help the dork who clearly needs to clean out her wallet. The best part was when I heard a lady yell across the parking lot, " You are totally George Costanza!!!!" (Sadly, I knew she was referencing a classic episode of Seinfeld where George gets mercilessly mocked for having so many receipts in his wallet that he is unable to sit flat on a surface and has to sit with one cheek lifted due to the girth of his wallet.)

That was me, George Costanza completely exposed and laid bare for the world to see. I literally just stood there in embarrassment as my "neighbors" handed me pile after pile of papers and tid bits. I realized in that moment that, 1) I need to clean out my wallet and 2) People can still be neighborly in a delightful little way. Truthfully, I wish someone had been there to see it snow today, it was a real hoot.

Get Out Your Hiking Boots.

2008-07-01T10:52:00.000-07:00

" Come, let's climb God's Mountain, go to the House of the God of Jacob. He'll show us the way He works so we can live the way we're made." Isaiah 2: 3

As I read this verse this morning I have to admit I sensed an ache in my spirit regarding two very important things. One is that these days especially I desire so greatly to truly understand the way that God works. I know by now that His ways are not my ways (which I am relieved about) but so often I look at my life and scratch my head. The thing I have come to realize, however, is that it is more than me just wanting to know God's plan and wacky ways that He brings about His purposes. I want to know Him. I see Him all around me and the amazing ways He orchestrates His Kingdom plans and it makes me thirsty to know the God behind it all. Yes, I know Him, but in those quiet moments before the Throne of grace I continually hear God whispering to me, "There is more!" I love this verse because it reminds me that God wants to let us in on His workings. It is hard to understand His ways but He so graciously reveals "sneak peeks" along the way via His Word, promises, and the gentle nudging of His Spirit.

The second thing that stirs me is the thought that I may truly live as I was made to. Doesn't that just make your spirit tingle? It does mine. The thing I have been battling lately is how to live life day to day filled with purpose and obedience to Christ when my days do not look like I expected or desire them to be. This verse reminds me, however, that I was created to live TODAY. Before the beginning of time God saw this day, had a purpose in it and is delighted to let me in on the secret of His ways. The challenge for me is to slow down in actions and in my spirit enough to seek Him. I must begin to set aside my expectations of the day to day and begin to tap into the resources and vision of the Kingdom of God. The truth remains, no matter what today looks like in the natural, God has an eternal purpose which He longs for me to become aware of. So many days I walk around spiritually blind forgetting that this is not my home. I am overwhelmed with the truth of God's word today. I ache to live as I was made to and to know deep within the ways the Almighty works.

Today I choose to get out my hiking boots, climb the Mountain of my God and take some time to see things at a higher elevation. My prayer is that I will come down the Mountain living fully as I was created to and knowing better the heart and ways of my God. What a treasure this trek is!

Bruiser.

2008-06-26T13:41:00.000-07:00

I bruise easily.
I am aware of this.
I have done it all of my life.

Recently I have caved under the pressure of, well, let's face it the rest of the world and have fallen in love with the game known as futbol. Honestly, this new obsession has taken me by surprise. I had heard rumors of my chums playing soccer (as we Americans call it-it just doesn't sound as cool, however.) and casually agreed to play one sunny, Sunday afternoon. Once I felt the sheer delight of taking on players double my size, scoring my first goal, and running around like a crazy, "gazelle" (as I've been told I do) it was all over...I am in love with soccer. There are however, a few things I have come to grips with as a result of playing this beloved game.

#1. (As mentioned above) I am and will be forever covered in bruises.

There is NO way around this. Some may believe that bruises become a sort of trophy of athleticism, a sign of how hard core I am, or merely another opportunity for God to display His creativity in the amount of colors that can be seen currently on my thigh bruise. I, however, gaze upon my bruised infested legs and am once again reminded that it is quite possible that I may never be thought of as a lady. I mean seriously, try sporting a pretty little skirt and some heels (which we all know I rarely can handle) with massive, multicolored bruises up and down your legs. I highly doubt a real lady could hack that. I promise you on my wedding day my knees will have bruises on them. With all that said, I have come to realize that love requires sacrifices. And so it is, I love soccer and I will be bruised.

#2. I am under some delusion that I am not a small person.

I rarely think about how small I am. Honestly, I tend to think that in general good things come in small packages and have accepted the fact that, yes, I am done growing. I never thought this over-acceptance could be an issue. But, I was wrong. In the heat of the game, I have repeatedly run full force at players (majority of them being men) in an attempt to get the ball. The funny thing is it is not until they are JUST about to plow over me with momentum that all of a sudden I recall that I am a small girl. When the reality check is triggered by the mere mass of "Player A" about to take me out, I quickly blurt out,"Ooo, sorry!"(FYI "Player A" is not fat, I used the word "mass" simply to convey to you the severity of the situation). As this encounter repeatedly occurs, I ask myself a few questions: What exactly am I apologizing for? Is it for being small? For playing soccer with zeal? Taking on a grown man double my size? I don't really know. After further analysis, all possibles do not necessitate an apology and therefore I will never apologize again.

#3. I am and never will be David Beckham.

I cannot, " Bend it like Beckham" and I need to accept the truth and move on. I can't actually even kick the ball successfully with my left foot which means that on the half the field, I kick like a gimp. Shame. As I take some time to let the realities of these statements sink in, I must focus on the positive. I can still CLICK a little Xhosa! (That is Khosa for you non-clickers.)

The truth is I will forever be changed by the game of Soccer.
I will be bruised.
I will try to remember I am small.
For I love soccer,
and I am pretty sure it loves me.

The Reason I Was Created.

2008-06-24T23:25:00.001-07:00

Do you ever have those rare moments that overwhelm you so much with joy that you stop, take a breath, and think to yourself, "THIS is the reason I was created?" I was just recounting one of those amazing moments with a dear 180 student the other day...When I had the privilege of living in Mama Africa I would daily walk down the hill from my house to the classrooms where I taught darling African children and breath in that moment. Gazing across the green rolling hills of rural South Africa as the sun rose, the freshness of the new morning created by my Jesus, Preschool babies yelling, "Miss!" and the droves of blue-uniformed darlings doddling down the road to school. Taking it all in I would smile so big I would almost squeak. That is a delicious memory that I cherish. Walking away from this recent coffee conversation I found my heart a little sad that those mornings are in the past. But alas, Jesus knew what I was thinking and this is the best part of the story...

That night at church I found myself lost in worship, delighting in Jesus and feeling like a little child so full of joy I could burst. In the midst of it all I heard Jesus use the same words I had used earlier that morning. He said, "Jen ( I love when He calls me that!), THIS is the reason you were created." What a relief to know that the call of God on my life is not conditional upon location (Africa or the States) it is simply to know and love my Jesus. That's it, phew. Loving Jesus? THAT I can do.