Learning to Love Dandelions

In the summer of 2014 a lunch meeting with a local chaplain led Andy to check out the Covenant College job board. He emailed me the specifics of an admin job that seemed to fit my skill set and...it had summers off! Yippee!

In that moment, I had no idea how the months prior to those summers off would include tear filled drives to work and heart breaking goodbyes (for elaboration on all the feels Thankful for Covenant, Time and My Relational Landscape, Lunch Ladies and L'Abri). I laugh when I think about how blindsided I was to find a ministry tacked onto calendar updates, emails and endless to do lists. Somehow along the way I developed a life on campus outside administrative duties and I'm so much better for it. Covenant students are literally the best this world has to offer (with the exception of one Furman Paladin) and I have been so blessed to learn from them these last few years.

I've been reminded of the value in asking questions that cannot be answered with a yes or a no. How sometimes the best thing to do is sit quietly so words recently spoken can bounce around, circle the room, reverberate and be heard by the speaker themselves. I've tried to remember that I don't have to have all the answers when I have the love of Christ to love with, the Holy Spirit to listen to and a common goal of obedience encompassed with redemptive grace. I've been blessed to see patterns in life's happenings that seem to have no connection until you watch them spiral to core issues where they can be grasped and ripped out of the deepest and darkest recesses of human hearts. The process of discipleship brings such rich joy. Learning with others how to obey and seeing God be faithful to sanctify has renewed my faith many times. Through these years at Covenant, students reminded me that loving others is my jam and one of my favorite parts about being me.

Leaving this job I've loved, while sad, is also exciting. I'm excited to take new self realization and live it out down the mountain. I have a whole 20ish years to dedicate to a new career and I can't wait to get started! I can't wait to learn all the new things from a perfect team to serve what I'm sure are always wonderful customers! In March I traveled to London with a group of students and was incorporated into the life of a church working predominantly with people of Middle Eastern decent. As I learned about Middle Eastern religions and how the true Word of God is strong enough to handle their questions, I was amazed at how important it is to take time to build relationships and assess your mission field. It made me excited for new ground, new people, new conversations in which God can prove the reality of his existence.

If the dandelions in my yard would remain small yellow flowers that are contained, organized, exactly where I want them to be, they would be easier to appreciate. However, knowing the unpredictability of their future is very frustrating. They become balls of fluffy seeds ready for the wind to swoop up and take far far away (or straight into my well groomed flower beds where I will curse them, dig them up and throw them into the woods). We rarely stay at jobs we love forever. Life brings important people into our relational landscape long enough to alter us, teach us, love us and then they go do something else somewhere else. Children learn, grow, have their own ideas that separate them as individuals with a plan of their own. I'm learning to be thankful for the time that flower was bright and contained and to appreciate the gift it is to watch the wind blow it's seeds around.

Mostly, my heart is just so filled with gratitude. I'm thankful for the fun filled three years packed with rich relationships built on a common love for a blessed Savior. Thankful for Covenant in general but mostly for the handful of students I'm taking with me. I can't wait for the phone calls, social media glimpses and especially those planned crossing of paths. I'm always ready to pray for you and with you no matter the amount of dropped calls or funny faces stuck on frozen face time screens. My life is richer because of you and I love you.

Some pics with my London peeps! #CovLondon17

Just the Best Nana Ever

A ninety-two year old Nana in declining health who has suffered years of dementia is supposed to leave this world. Her passing wasn't a shock and in large part was cause for joy. But, you see, she was just the best Nana ever.

When I was a little girl, my sister and I took a trip with my grandparents to see some of my Grandad's land. I don't remember where this land was located but he seemed proud of it and we had a day wandering through the woods with our Nana. I remember laughing until my sides hurt at her little jokes. She was so silly in the simplest ways, always finding fun and always willing to laugh at herself.

On our trek through Grandad's woods we found a pile of bones which resulted in three very different reactions. My older sister thought they were cool. I was a bit disgusted. Nana was sad. She wondered out loud what type of animal had left this lifeless pile and if he was missed. She voiced questions about the animal's family, "Were his wife and children waiting for his return? Did he suffer?" She took a stick, brushed away the leaves and drew a circle of protection in the dirt around the bones. This was done with seriousness of heart, all the while laughing at herself and her silliness. Forever the kindergarten teacher, Nana had the heart of a child. She was always singing, telling stories, drawing imaginary protective barriers to protect piles of deteriorated animal remains.

Her last hours on earth were spent reminding her who she was and all she meant to all of us. At times Nana would seem agitated and we would try to hear her whispers, give her more or less cover, put lotion on muscles that may or may not ache. During one of these moments she became very animated and was struggling to communicate. My Aunt Bud started quoting one of her favorite children's books "Are you My Mother?" Nana instantly calmed, settled and started mouthing the words as her youngest child recited them from memory.

At the end of a lengthy period of lucidity Nana looked past me, over my shoulder, and focused at the blank wall behind me. She raised her hand, pointed and her very blue eyes held a look of amazement.

I asked her, "What do you see, Nana?"
She formed the word friends.
"Are they beautiful?"
"Oh yeah" she whispered.
"Are they singing?"
"Singing"
"Do they sing better than I do?"
"Oh yeah."
I replied, "I'm ok with that."

As we watched my Nana struggle to live and then when we celebrated her passed life, one thing was very clear. My Nana made an art form out of loving those close to her. Each of her thirteen grandchildren felt like we were the favorite. At the end of every visit, she just couldn't seem to say goodbye. It was as if you were trying to rip away a part of herself. She didn't have to try and make those in her life FEEL loved. She genuinely, truly, whole heartedly, loved you. It flowed through her and permeated her being as she sang, danced, threatened to lock you in the closet so she could keep you, and as she literally chased you down as you tried to drive away.

In his homily at Nana's funeral Andy provided the greatest comfort:

"Nana no longer has faith. It may unsettle you to hear this: Nana is now faithless. She no longer needs faith. She has sight. She has left the shadow lands and has been ushered into the presence of the royal city. She is now experiencing in fullness everything she had believed while on earth."

I'll never forget his words on Nana's faithlessness. While she no longer needs faith or hope, she will always and forever love.

My Nana

Alicia, Carin, Dave and Kimmy (photobombed by a couple of hooligans)

Most of Nana's Grandfavorites (in birth order...*sigh*)

Some of Nana's Greatfavorites...imagine the crazy!

The Names You Call Me

On the day a child is born, parents give their bundle of joy a name. This name is pondered, researched, and possibly fought over. The name Leah Heleena means a lot to me. Leah is the name of my mom's childhood friend, the type of friend you hide in the attic for a week without your parents knowing. "Heleena" was the name of my Great Grandmother's Grandmother. This name was exclaimed as I was found playing in the mud in my Sunday best and when I was caught reaching in my diaper, pulling out what I found and putting it in my pocket (I know, I can't  believe it either). While this name was often used to grab my attention, my sisters and I shared names that implied all the love and affection we couldn't comprehend until we had children of our own. My Mama calls us "Baby Girl" and we feel treasured. My Papa tags the name "Darlin" when he says "I love you" and we know wherever we are, however far away he is, we are his daughters.

As I move further into the fourth decade of life, I find as much as my given name means, all the other names mean even more. I love hearing nieces, nephews and kids of friends call me Aunt Leah, Aunt Weela, Quesadilla. I'm filled with humility when my buddy Ryan calls me "Coach".  For this friend who I respect as much as I do to imply that at some point I had words he found encouraging or constructive makes me feel I'm wearing Jesus well. When my work study students (past and present) call me "Boss" they aren't simply acknowledging that I get to tell them what to do. These students have to work to pay for college. There are many positions they could have and the title they have given me speaks of thankfulness and appreciation. We are friends, we share life, but I'm their supervisor and whatever I ask, they will do their best to accomplish. Jon Boy, Mollyanna, Jay McRae, and Micky D are literally the cream of the crop. I've even come to find Mrs. Jones endearing but ONLY when spoken by Jay. College Mom, Campus Mom, Mama Leah...are a few other names given by Covenant students that warm my heart and give me purpose.  

Mommy is the name while I loved, I often wanted to change during the years it was spoken multiple times each minute of every day.  When Mommy transitioned to Mom, I realized my kids were growing up way too fast and was thankful they still needed me. When Spanish is being studied "Mi Madre" has to be mentally translated. Whatever the variation, this name is often voiced from one point of the house to the other by three of the best humans I've ever known. A few weeks ago when L'Abri came home from college "Mom?" was exclaimed from the front door and I felt as though one hundred butterflies were released in my heart. When these three call me "Mom" responsibility is coupled with empowerment by the sense of confidence it seems to convey. A need will be met, a question will be answered, comfort will be provided. The realization that grace will always be necessary is simultaneously and respectively acknowledged by all parties. 

As I dial into who I am, the names Andy calls me are at my very core. Don't worry, I won't risk turning my readers bilious by providing a list. I'll just say, they mean different things oscillating from necessity in "Hey Babe" to the expression of love and commitment behind "Baby Doll". There are times these names are super familiar and information being relayed is very mundane. Other times the level of dedication being expressed settles me. It reminds me of the safety, acceptance, and unconditional love I carry with me and have no fear of losing until death parts us. 

While there's no way to include all the names I've been given, I'm blessed by all of you who take the time to know me. As wonderful as all the names described above make me feel, as much purpose as they give me, they do not provide hope. The fulfillment they give me is empty without the fact that my Lord calls me child, sister...friend. Even more important than what God calls me is the fact that my name is written on the hands and in the heart of his beautiful Son. I am nothing without being claimed and called "Redeemed". 

Happy New Year! 

While this picture seems blurry it is quite focused. Unseen is the moment of lucidity given to my sweet Nana as she spoke the words, "You're my Leah."

The Fall, Fairy Dust and our Communal Fight

The little pie shaped plot of land that anchors our home is my favorite place to be. I love digging around, planting shrublike plants in the very rocky soil, and sitting on my back deck listening to the crickets while watching the sun disappear behind the trees. Imagine my horror when huge brown spots began to spread through our front lawn. After the yard was treated by some wonderful yard fairies, my shrubs began to look sad and discolored. Once again, the lawn fairies got a frantic phone call requesting their magical poison filled fairy dust.

Recently I've been frustrated by the deepest recesses of my heart revealing yet again familiar issues of sin playing out in all the same ole ways. I prayed, asked others to pray, threw my hands up and begged my God to take these evil knee jerk reactions away from me. I needed the Holy Spirit to intercede as habitual actions and reactions threatened to play out before I even realized what was happening. In the last few days I spoke with three of my people who were appalled by the same temptations rising up once again despite their passion for living a life of righteousness. I watched tears roll down faces as desperate pleas were made for the Spirit's intercession.

For the first time in 20 years I'm taking a college class, Christian Issues in Psychology.  In the text book, some guy named Entwistle spends a good deal of time on the subject of the Fall.

      "Cornelius Plantinga paints a picture that contrasts shalom, the peace that was intended by God, with sin, the cause of the brokenness that surrounds us...'In the Bible shalom means universal flourishing, wholeness and delight--a rich state of affairs in which natural needs are satisfied and natural gifts fruitfully employed, a state of affairs that inspires joyful wonder as the creator and savior opens doors and speaks welcome to the creatures in whom he delights...a sin is any act-any thought, desire, emotion, word, or deed-or its particular absence, that displeases God and deserves blame."

I've read the beginning chapters of Genesis many times. I remember God speaking how the serious ramifications of Adam and Eve's choice of snack food will shatter a perfect creation. Yet, when my grass starts to die and my shrubs get sad and wilty, I'm surprised. When I'm tempted once again in that old familiar way I'm ashamed, I feel dejected, I'm tempted to despair. While I would much rather have the whole complete kind of shalom I have to expect defective darkness in my heart and sickness in soul as well as my soil.

I personally am often tempted to get bogged down by the lack of redemption in the world. My sin, general evil, the weeds in my flower bed...all of these things can overwhelm me if not kept in the confines of truth. Even in the deepest of despair, I must be mindful of the atonement provided by my Savior and actively feel the comfort of the Holy Spirit. I'm also in constant need of other believers. Last Friday in Covenant's Chapel Pastor Joe Novenson challenged us "Don't underestimate the place God has given you in the lives of His people." Pastor Joe concluded his exegetical dissection of Proverbs 11:30 breaking down the word "capture" as a term for war. He reminded us that we have to fight for each other. We walk through life in prayer and supplication, sharing the weight that is the knowledge of one another. We are to know and be known so when temptation infiltrates we can remind each other not to despair. When we do fall to temptation, an outside perspective that helps name our sin is paramount and necessary. And then, some of us more than others, need help to reveal our righteousness. In a way, we are the fairy dust of God's truth sprinkled on the hearts of God's people. So we sit together in the glorious shadow of the cross all the while longing for the true shalom in which we were intended to exist.

January 2016 #backdeckbliss

"O Lord, I acknowledge and give thanks that You created in me Your image so that I may remember, contemplate, and love You. But (this image) has been so effaced by the abrasion of transgressions, so hidden from sight by the dark billows of sins, that unless You renew and refashion it, it cannot do what it was created to do."

-Anselm of Canterbury

Sea, Sand and the Best Kind of Burns

I've come to the conclusion after these 41 and a half years that change is hard. To be honest, I'm not a big fan. The past few months have been filled with plans driven by the purpose of going to Greenville, SC one day only to return the following day minus a child. A CHILD! I'm a mom! I'm supposed to constantly count heads making sure I return home with the same number with which I depart!

The mere thought of leaving Emma at college feels like the severing of a limb. While she is extremely independent, she usually needs me for something or other. Even when she doesn't need me, I'm involved. I'm always there and willing to give unsolicited advice (and it's rarely bad), speak into the situation whether she wants me to or not, answer questions she doesn't ask...ya know, the usual! In a few weeks, there will be so many happenings for her no amount or combination of phone calls, Instas and snaps can catch me up. She'll have conversations I'll be oblivious to, experiences I'll have no part in, feelings of which I'll never be aware. 

When you have the best of husbands and all the stars align just right you find yourself sitting on Florida's beautiful gulf coast for two days by yourself. For me this time proved to be a gift of God's goodness and care. I needed this time to  Re-Center. In 1839, Robert Murray M'Cheyne preached on "The Love of Christ". His closing illustration involves Peter walking on the water to get to Jesus. As long as he kept his eyes on his Savior, Peter was safe. When he looked at the mighty sea and the terrifying waves Peter would begin to sink. 

"As long as you look believingly to the Saviour, who loved you, and gave Himself for you, so long you may tread the waters of life’s troubled sea, and the soles of your feet shall not be wet. But venture to look around upon the winds and waves that threaten you on every hand, and, like Peter, you begin to sink, and cry, 'Lord, save me!' How justly, then, may we address to you the Saviour’s rebuke to Peter: 'O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?' Look again to the love of the Saviour, and behold that love which constrains you to live no more to yourself, but to Him that died for you and rose again."

These wonderful heart piercing, soul healing days of reflection concluded in the form of a coffee date with a local friend, Debi Burns. I know Debi’s son Ryan from Covenant and I’m convinced she not only played a huge role in his successful transition into adult life but I believe she played it very very well. I thought, maybe it would be helpful to pick her brain, learn from her experience, ask how she managed this life altering transition that feels so very wrong. 

As Debi and I chatted about when her kids left for college and the sense of finality that accompanies the weeks ahead of me, there was a common theme that crossed her lips. It’s ok to be so very sad. My quivering lips and tear filled eyes were not only accepted but also understood by someone who has walked the same path. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, God did not intend for us to be self sustaining. We need each other. I needed Debi’s questions, encouragement and comfort. I needed to hear her pray for me in ways I don’t know to pray for myself. 

This separation, the day I leave my child to her own living, from the moment I say goodbye I will immediately begin to wonder what she's up to, what she's thinking, how she feels about all the events of the day. While this severing brought about by independence she has longed for and at times fought for feels like the cutting away of a limb or even a significant dissection of my very heart, it is good. And it's ok for it to be hard. As God has been faithful before, he will continuously continue to be. As he allowed for a heart healing, soul piercing few days of contemplation in the presence of his most beautiful creation, as he was faithful to bring about timely conversation with the likes of Debi Burns, he will be faithful in the most difficult of moments to cauterize my wounds. He won't let me bleed out. While my existence will look very different, I will continue to exist. 

Panama City Beach, FL

#LAbritheSenior

During the 26th week of my first pregnancy I was working very hard at my grown up job when I started to experience extreme back pain. I called my doctor fully expecting him to tell me just to suck it up and he would see me the next day at my scheduled appointment. An hour later I was lying in labor and delivery being told I was in pre-term labor and the inability to stop said labor would mean a 50% chance of survival for my child.

That was the moment. The exact moment I associated the tiny kicks with my new reality called motherhood. The moment my slightly rounded belly ceased to be a new and exciting stage of life and began to establish itself as an entire section of my heart. From that moment until now my existence has been compromised. I no longer thought in terms of most convenient, most comfortable or primary personal preference. There was always an X factor and while we were yet to realize it, her name was Emma.

Emma is as witty as she is beautiful. She is so confident! There's no need for primping. Even an evening under bright stage lights where she will step forward to sing a solo does not mandate make-up or the use of a curling iron. Emma knows what she wants and isn't afraid to go for her goal with gusto. I'm not surprised Emma L'Abri Jones tried to enter the world two and a half months early. She's been grabbing the world by the ear and digging for her oyster all in one fair swoop for over 17 years.  If I attempted to list all her achievements and accomplishments my readers would tire of her excellence and miss the most important aspects of Emma. Let's just say, she's really smart. 

Emma loves. She loves life, her Lord and people. She cherishes her friends like few I've seen before. The more her friends have genuine needs the more she pours out. Her passion for justice is unparalleled. When she envisions a life's work it is the unlovable, the underserved, the needy and mentally ill she hopes to understand. 

As I think back and remember the beautiful tiny baby, adorable little girl with the tiny voice that never stopped, the pre-teen with Hanna Montana sunglasses/purse/clothes/lamp, the teenager who hated us for making her move to GA but walked into that ginormous building that housed Ridgeland High School as if she owned the place, I realize she is one of my greatest sources of pride. The pride Scott and Seth Avett sing about "But not like the kind in the Bible that turns you bad." She is the truest form of determination I have ever seen. She MAKES things happen. Most of her wildest dreams come true because she demands that they be realized. And when they don't, she has a back up plan.  I see in her a fantastic, mysterious combination of myself and Andy filtered through the love and conviction of a gracious God. 

These are the things I see. There are so many things about Emma that I miss as exceptional because to me...they're just the characteristics that make her my L'Abri. I'm so excited for her to meet new people who will see these eccentricities, point them out and show her even more that makes her exceptional. I pray she finds influences that help her dissect the ways my selfishness, pride and personal agenda have creeped into my parenting. 

Thursday, May 19th, three months before she moves into a dorm room at Furman University, she will walk across a stage. I will clap and think a thought I've thought so many times before. I am so proud of my baby girl. I'm so thankful for the young woman God has created her to be and for her on going pursuit of holiness. In so many ways, I want to be more like her.

"Sandy" with her Winston after Grease- Spring 2015

Last weekend Emma was Belle for Ridgeland High School's performance of Beauty and the Beast. I kept picturing her as a little girl in her yellow Belle dress and hearing her 3 year old voice saying "Look Mama, I Belle! I pretty Mama?"

A Happy Sad

On Mondays I have lunch with Ellie. She might call me her mentor but much of the time during our weekly lunch dates I'm griping about this or that and she speaks into my life with wisdom beyond her years. As she prayed for me last week I was flooded with the sad reality that I won't see her for months.  As she thanked God for me and cried out to God on my behalf I felt so blessed I couldn't keep the tears from sliding down my cheeks. I feel so blessed to know her and so thankful that our weekly lunch dates will continue with the next school year.

Next Sunday one of my lunch ladies is going to put on a beautiful dress, walk down an aisle and make very significant promises to this guy named Jack. Over two years I've watched Andrea fall more deeply in love and make plans to marry him and more recently have had the privilege of listening to all the plans as they formulated for this most special of days. It's heart wrenching that I won't be there to watch it all unfold.

Instead, I'll be watching another's dreams come true. Since she was 18 months old Emma L'Abri has loved Beauty and the Beast. From the first time she watched Belle climb over that grassy hill singing about a little town, Emma resonated with the dark haired animation and her ability to find life like dreamy escapades in the pages of a book. I can close my eyes and easily recall vivid memories of my daughter dancing around multiple living rooms over the span of a childhood pretending to be Belle. The happiest you will ever see a mom is watching their child's wildest dreams come true! Next weekend, I get to be that joy filled mom.

Sometimes the saddest things in this life are the result of so much happiness. Tears flow when Ellie prays for me because I'm humbled by how she cares for me and allows me to truly know her. Andrea and Emma have wonderful, amazing events going on at the same time in different places. I'd give anything to be at both but being on this side of heaven I am limited by time and space. God's sweetest blessings meet the imperfection of this post-Eden world where time and space conflict.

Today I experienced a similar contrast of emotion as my friends walked across a stage signifying great achievement coupled with the fact that they are moving on. What a privilege to stand in my slippered feet day after day and pour out the gracious, hope filled love God has poured into me. When my "work" day is done I drive down a beautiful mountain to these three exceptional humans I get to raise and their father who happens to be my favorite person on the planet. Even my sad is caused by so much happy.

I don't like to brag but the guy in the center is my work study student of two years and is next year's Student Body President. Tried to get him to run the country but he just doesn't have time.