Her Freedom

Could the maker of the stars hear the sound of my breakin' heart? One light, that's all I am right now I can barely stand
If You're everything You say You are won't You come close and hold my heart

Then He whispered in her ear, "Never will I leave you. Never will I forsake you."
The tears then broke from her locked eyelids and fell with her chains. "I love you." was all she could get out of her quivering lips, "hold me. Please hold me."

His light threw the everlasting confusion into a whirlwind abyss. His light flooded her eyes and shook her bones. His light held her suspended in the air  where the darkness could not touch her. But there was one thing missing; her choice. Her choice to turn away everything she once welcomed. Her choice to choose the things that made her uncomfortable. Her choice to put herself last, to become the least of these with no complaint. Her choice was impossible. She knew she couldn't do it. She didn't know if she wanted to. But she knew she needed to.

"Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders. Let me walk upon the waters, wherever you would call me. Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander, and my faith would be made stronger in the presence of my Savior. My Savior. You saved me. I will call upon your name, keep my eyes above the waves. My soul will rest in your embrace. I am yours and you are Mine." 

The prayer emanated from her spirit. The demons around were blinded by the power of the choice that enabled her freedom. Her freedom. Her freedom. 

It Is Finished 

I am Yours and You are Mine.

December 24th

Today, December 24th 2012 has been the worst December 24th I can remember, though that isn't saying much because i don't remember any of them, and no, it's not because I was drunk . Back to the point, today started out great, I stayed up late making my little brother's present, yet still had a great nights sleep. I woke up my mothers kisses and to the freezing cold air inside my house (no heat yet. thank God for space heaters). I had a head full of things to do today, and was looking forward to a fun day of just spending Christmas music filled time with everyone. Well, it didn't turn out that way. Today was filled with bad attitudes, too many cranky pills, short tempered-ness, and was a big ole bucket of rude and not fun-ness (that's a word right?). I was miserable. Our house has no decorations, no wonderful smells, no family friendliness...etc. In my house, we don't give a gift exchange on Christmas, we give it on New Years. We do this because my parents had the idea to reserve Christmas for Jesus and to have our own family holiday. We call it Family Appreciation Day. Though there is nothing wrong with giving gifts on Christmas  my parents just came up with a cool tradition. Well this year for Christmas  everyone in our family has to hand make something for the person younger than them (in addition to family appreciation day), I have to make something for Daniel (little brother). Well today, Daniel overdosed on cranky jerk pills and was having a few issues today, no bueno. And it all went downhill from there. On top of things i won't get into, my best friends are a thousand and in some cases many many thousands of miles away. My other best friend ...ugh oh gosh I don't even know about her. Today was awful. Period. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have Hope.
Christmas.
More of Christ.
The Savior of the World, the Savior of my soul was born. He saw the withered tree stumps of humanity and it broke his heart. He saw the depression of the souls of a people who were forever cut off from God, the God of their souls, the God of love who truly is the only one who knew how to love them. We were separated, lost, confused, dying, crying, seeking, searching, desperate, dead. He saw something that he would take no more of, his heart broke for the people who broke it, and who keep breaking it. But Love prevailed and a plan was hatched. God sent his Son to save his lost ones; me. The Love of God is powerful. Powerful enough to raise the dead, to heal the sick, to fix the broken and renew the stagnant, to change the world and the fullness thereof. Thank you Jesus. Thank you Jesus for seeing my hurt, my lost, my broken, and my blind heart. Thank you for tearing off the chains on my soul with your pierced and bleeding hands. Your hands and feet were bleeding with blood that should have been mine. You are the solution. You came and lived among us and yet we still rejected you. Thank you for not giving up so easily, thank you for having a human proof plan. I love you. I'm in love with you. My soul sings of how I love you.

Yep, this is what I've been waiting for.

I'm  doing a lot right now. I'm looking at my niece and her beautiful eyes. she smiles. I think about how downstairs lying on my couch right now is an amazing girl I met last year.  I think about how now I'm '17'. I think about how much I dont know what that means. I think about how I'm going to HA next year. About how Im now a 'senior' now. The  thought of that makes me cry. I feel like crying now  I think about how I just got a very much wanted invitation to MT. I think about how my best friend doesn't  know how Im feeling. And how I feel like i'm drifting from my other best friend. I think about how I try so hard to fight other peoples battles for them. I try so hard to save people from their situations, even though I know thats not my job. But what is my job? Working at a frozen yogurt shop? Assistant Gymnastics coach? technically yes. But I need for there to be more in this 18th year of life then falling behind in school and making money that will come to dust anyway. I have a goal for tis year. I want to do something. Something that includes more then being in a musical, and making a new friend. I want this year to be my turning point. I just read a blog post from my friend Chantry. He just came back from Venezuela. Now he's planning 2 more trips to Haiti and Ecuador. He's also dual enrolled a.k.a he's soon to be a sophomore in college. He's 17. Does his amazing anointed mission based life make me feel like a directionless chump? yep sure does. But another thing that it shows me, is that Chancho knows his identity. Not just his name or his address. But he knows who he is in Christ. and when you boil it down, thats ALL that matters. Who am I in Christ?... thats what I need to brush up on. This 2012-2013 year is going to be one in which God says, "Yep, this is what I've been waiting for."

One year and 14 days ago

We were strangers when we took this picture. 
Pale, short haired, blue shirt wearing strangers.
I'd like to see us take it now, 1 year, and 14 days later

One year and  14 days ago at approximately 1 in the morning, I was crying. Not outwardly, for my tear sacks don't work like that. Its the worst feeling when your  crying on the inside but nothing comes out on your face.  When all your emotion is trapped inside and there is no way for it to come out. I remember kissing Maria repeatedly and getting her many tears on my face. I remember hugging Zeb not near enough times. At that moment I remembered all the things he said would happen to him that night, I wondered if they were happening, I doubted  it.  I remember the TM official yelling at us to leave, let them get on their bus and us to go to sleep. His insensitivity was blood boiling. Did he really not know what happened between us the past two months? And then having to say goodbye not knowing whether we would see each other again. I regret something from that night. I wish I had stayed my ground, not impressed by his threats that may not have been idle.  I wish I would have seen their bus off, and waved to them as they slowly began the hour and a half journey to the DFW airport. I knew the goodbyes would continue that night, in fact mine and Frankie's turn was next. But as I was shooed out of the pavilion, I just ran back up to my cabin and sat outside on the bench, I looked at the stars and re-lived the past two months in my head. Before I knew it, it was my turn to go to the pavilion and get on my bus. I ran into my cabin and woke up my other  team mates, "My bus is here. I ts time for me to go." some of them responded with a sluggish "oooh no" but hardly any of them stirred. It made me laugh, after two months of waking up at 5-6 in the morning, we learned to value our sleep. "Ok," said a currently closed-eyed Misha, " I'll be down there in enough time to say goodbye" I woke a few others and gave a few sleepy hugs, but when I look back now, I would have done so much more.  I don't remember having an escort down the lonely road to the pavilion. I got down there to see Frankie, my departing buddie, God, I was so thankful to have him. My memories are scattered at this point, the one thing that sticks out the most is that man just yelling. Say your goodbyes then leave! No! I don't want them to leave! Please don't leave. I remember quick fleeting hugs from people who meant the most. Hugs that wouldn't satisfy. Hugs that didn't  satisfy. Hugs that haven't satisfied. I'm not satisfied, in fact, I'm depressed. I remember the moment I broke. When emotion became too strong and too powerful for my insides to contain. This happens on very few occasions. Mackenzie hugged me. She said, "If there's anything you ever need, I want you to call me. Call me, ok?" I nodded my head on her much smaller shoulder, the tears came, they matched hers. Cassandra came up and hugged me next. Though we scarcely exchanged words the entire two months, I knew I was going  to miss her.    Then they were gone. Warded off by the officiator of ceremonies. I knew then that I didn't like this man, I very much did not like him.  I felt so alone then. Frankie asked "You ok bud?" and I smiled and said "Nope." I wasn't ok. I'm not ok.  Holding the non existent tears in then has lead to me letting them out now.  I miss my Impossibles.
</3
[super emo blog post is now over...stay tuned for the next one]

Part 4

We had been in Fiji for about two months now. We had Bon-fires, ministry through labor , Youth Conventions, movie nights, a pool party, beach outings, rugby and soccer tournaments... ...the list goes on. I was literally in paradise with my family. What could be better? I could be better. I was vain, selfish, and completely oblivious. I constantly looked to impress people, to make them like me more, to make them think I was special and possibly even as cool as everyone else. "Hey! Do you think I'm cool too? Look at me! I can be like that." My demeanor cried out louder then the sound of the ocean.
Have you ever been so blindly focused on one thing that you completely miss the better things that you could have had? Being so focused on myself, I missed the amazing friendships I could have had with Rachel, Christal, and so many others. Finally, it took the work of  Tema, a girl I did not expect to get so close with, to awaken me from my slumber. Her selfless attitude towards everything stirred something in me. She was a beautiful tom-boy with a bottomless reservoir of competitiveness and generosity. "Hey Jenny, you want some?" She constantly offered me anything she had, or in most cases, she would buy me my own. God used her to show me something. She showed me how selfish and inconsiderate I was. Boom. I was roasted.
Combined with the work of  Tema, and the work of Vimal, who had become my big brother, I was destined for a makeover.
One night we were invited to a family's house. A member of their family had been on her death bed in the hospital. And since my parents were the pastors, they had the responsibility of going to the hospital, and praying over the woman. God, of course, performed a miracle and she was healed and back at home with her family. As we ate their wonderfully made food, my sisters and I started talking to some of the younger people who were there. "So, do you guys ever want to go to America?" we asked.
"No!" They all said, "America has too many gangs and too much violence, we don't want to get killed."
At first we just laughed, but then realized they were serious. Is that how people saw America and the people thereof? Yep, apparently  That's certainly how these Indian teenagers saw us. Boom. Roasted again.

After the rest of the month had past, it was time to go home and change our world there. Its hard going to a different country and coming back the same person especially when you were a jerk and a fool before. Well evtually we came back home and got to look through our World with different eyes. The eyes of some who had seen beauty in tragedy, seen the face of the ugly in something that was meant to be beautiful.
I, Jenny, have far too many stories to tell of how my life was ripped to shreds, and I actually haven't told you any of them. But give me time, time enough to write my memoirs and share with the World that really doesn't care to hear. Give me time.

Part 3 (I split it up so many times because I need more blog posts.)

Weeks past and my playing hard to get, got me everywhere. It turned out that I was right, sonny did like me too. Ha! I had him in the palm of my hand....well, not really.  Though we both liked each other, we never pursued it, and I wouldn't have had it any other way. There were more important things to worry about. Up until that time, this trip had been the best vacation ever. Every time we went to town, people thought we were famous, because there was a famous gospel choir in town, and why else would actual real black people be in Fiji unless the were performers? As people would sneak pictures of who they thought were famous people, we would just laugh.
Later on my parents reminded me that we were indeed on a missions trip. Being on a missions trip, you're expected to minister, and though we had already done special skits at the church, it was mostly my parents doing the ministering. And they wanted to give us the opportunity to do so as well.  So we piled into a van and drove to the interior of Viti Levu. We got to the mostly Hindu school on top of a mountain and where we were served the most incredible Indian food we had eaten so far. After the incredible food, it was go time. All the children sat in their chairs with the utmost respect, Fijian and Indian alike.Though I had a lot of experience of being in front of people, no inkling in my body wanted to come to this school. My mom wanted me to mime to a song called 'Now behold the Lamb', though it was normally a christmas song. I did it kicking and screaming, as I mostly did when I had to minister through the arts. But I had to stop, why was I here? Because God brought me here. Why did he bring me here? He brought me here for his Glory, whether that was through relationships that he formed, or places that he took me. I was there for a reason. And I was not leaving without doing his call. After shaking off my spirit of reluctant-ness, we mimed, danced, sang, and then my parents, and another missionary shared the message. After giving the gospel, they asked for children wanting Christ to raise their hands. One by one hands raised, almost all of the children received and accepted the Gospel that day. God is Good.

Part 2

The plane touched down in Nadi, Viti Levu, Fiji  Wednesday morning. We were all confused when told it was Wednesday. Hadn't we flown out on Monday? What happened to Tuesday? It was gone, the international date line had been crossed. We were in the future. Tuesday didn't exist for me. If you think about it in a cool way, I only lived 364 days that year.
In the first day of being in that Paradise, I had already begun to meet some of my best friends for the next few months. I would say best friends for the next few decades, but alas, they have already forgotten me. Forgotten me like a footprint washed away by the waves. Speaking of the waves, the ocean just so happened to be less then a minutes walk from our new Fijian house. For the next 3 months we would live on the beach. The youth in the church welcomed us with open arms and amazing hearts, just the memory of them makes me tear. Vimal, the 18 year old youth leader, stayed in our house with us for a week to make sure we got settled, him and some of the youth took us up to The Point. A perilously beautiful place, it was like looking out at the end of the world. The man swallowing waves, the jagged rocks, and the beauty of a distant shore was too much.  God's creation was all too beautiful. As we looked out into the world we had lost all connection with reality. Which wasn't a good thing.
"THE CAMERA!!! THE CAMERA!!!" I awoke from my day dreaming to see my mothers camera get immersed by the ravaging ocean. "NOOOOOOO!!!!!" I sank to my knees in defeat. This was the second one of my mothers camera that met a tragic end on  my watch.  My walk back to the house was a sad one, we had only been there for a week, and I had already lost one of the most important things.

One night, we were walking the youth home, about a mile away,  when I dropped my earring. As I was looking for it, a car came out of no where and almost killed me. But in the nick of time Sonny rushed to my side, grabbed my lost erring and moved me out of the way. I looked lovingly into the eyes of my savior only to be met with, "Girl, you dumb!" and he walked away chuckling at the foolish vain American girl . I was going thank him wholeheartedly and even treasure the first time that a boy came to my rescue, but I decided to play hard to get. I knew that Sonny liked me, or, at least that I liked him. And I was convinced to make him feel the same way. Game on Sonny Boy, game on........