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. 

RE-CENTER

This week I joined Emma L'Abri at a banquet for parents of students in the top 10% of their graduating class. In an effort to actually arrive at said banquet I used google maps to find my way. As I set out I swiped the top bar left in order to see the next turn. And the next and then the next. At some point I looked down at the map and was very confused. Nothing looked familiar.

A few weeks ago I found myself in a similar state from a spiritual perspective. Those around me were suffering. I was overwhelmed by the sadness, sickness and sin that seemed to be coming from every direction. I have the tendency to love people ferociously and without hesitation which means when they suffer I can't not suffer with them. When a student's parent is very ill and they are afraid, I struggle to simply sit with them and their questions without wanting very much to fix it. 

In her most recent blog, Vaneetha Rendall  points out that Jesus' most basic need while suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane was companionship. 

     "Clearly this longing was not sinfully weak or needy. It did not reflect a lack of trust in   God or a fragile faith. It was simply human. God incarnate longed for fellowship. Because God created us to live in community. In the same way, our friends often long for presence in their suffering. Caring for them from a distance is not enough. They aren't looking for answers to their deepest questions. Or solutions to their pressing problems. They just need our presence."

On one of the darkest days during the last few weeks it seemed as though life was too much for Jesus to handle. Just my own sin and the brokenness I was aware of seemed insurmountable. I was afraid in that moment to cry out to God. I wasn't angry. I was just weak and sad. During quiet moments of prayer and reflection I realized I was trying to look at the next step and the one after that. Instead of sitting with those who were suffering I was trying to figure out what I could say to help. I wanted to know what my next turn should be. And the next and then the one after that. 

In Google Maps on the bottom left corner is a delightful little "Re-Center" button. When I've swiped left so many times I don't recognize the map on the screen I can hit that button and it takes me back to my current location where the streets make sense. This was exactly the kind of action I needed in the last few weeks. I needed to hit the re-center button and be reminded that the faithful God we serve is just that big. Rather than look for the next step I'm called to sit and weep with those who weep. So I hug those who are afraid. And tell them it is very ok not to be ok. 

I'm so thankful for a husband who understood my melancholy mood, for a mom who helped me process, for friends half my age who reminded me that I too am allowed to be weak and broken. 

Just Call Me Jonah

I am in constant need of being reminded that I am complete in Christ. Many of us struggle to feel atoned for gross imperfections by a Being that is perfectly righteous. If you're like me the overwhelming act of claiming sisterhood with our precious Lord or being named a daughter of God Almighty himself is so humbling that your soul begs to respond. We can’t help but search our heart for ways that we fail to match our precious life-giving Savior. We crave to be like Him. At times this desire can consume us and even turn into a self sustaining measure to feel as though we play a part in our sanctification although we know this to be untrue. Thankfully, the Holy Spirit is in the business of showing us our brokenness and making us brand new, every day, year after year.  

Since sitting in Sunday School at Adaton Baptist Church until now I've heard and read the story of Jonah many times. I’ve always been appalled and confused by Jonah's reaction to God's mercy toward the people of Nineveh.  When Jonah FINALLY gets to Nineveh and the people respond to his preaching with belief and praise, the missionary is ticked. In fact, in chapter four his displeasure with God is so fierce he requests death. You know, his displeasure with the very God who has bestowed mercy and stuffed truth into his own rebellious heart.  

Tim Keller explains brilliantly in "Counterfeit Gods" how Jonah's fear of failure runs simultaneously with his fear of success. Every bit of it stems from idolatry.  "Jonah's cultural and personal idols had melded into a toxic compound that was completely hidden from him. It led him to rebel against the very God he was so proud of serving."

I'm appalled at Jonah's reaction until I start to recognize a similar motive in myself. I am Jonah.  I too often allow my sin to form a toxic compound of which I am unaware. I see my sin of selfishness and settle for calling it pride.  When I pick apart a pattern of negative emotion, I sometimes find that pride would be more appropriately labeled as egotism and idolatry. 

Tonight, I baked a whole chicken for dinner.  The carcass (for lack of a better word) is boiling in a pot for tomorrow's Chicken and Dumplings. I will then boil the bones for bone broth that will be frozen and made into soup. Dissecting my heart's attitude that exists despite my obedient action and mindset is a lot like the laborious task of cooking this bird in my kitchen.  I can't take the first round and be done.  There is more goodness, more meat of truth, more marrow of insight in the deep recess of my heart waiting to be discovered. This is where we learn the most.  

Jonah needed time in the belly of that fish where the Holy Spirit gave him a good dose of self realization. He wasn’t simply acting out of fear but he was also fleshing out a desire to keep the grace of the gospel for those who were born like him. He wanted God’s goodness for his people and none other. It's a good thing to act out of obedience. The joy, the richest of God's goodness is felt when our hearts are pricked, cut away, broken, boiled and re-boiled. Understanding the sin in our lives is difficult. Understanding how it plays out and affects our relationships is even more difficult. I'm realizing at the ripe ole age of 41 this process of dissection, while difficult, is my life's work. I'm realizing God's goodness to me permeates through each step of this process and my grasping His unrelenting atonement is my daily feast.

Come All Ye Pining, Hungry, Poor

Lord, we adore thy boundless grace, 
The heights and depths unknown,
Of pardon, life, and joy, and peace, 
In thy beloved Son.

Come, all ye pining, hungry poor, 
The Saviour's bounty taste; 
Behold a never-failing store
For every willing guest

O wondrous gifts of love divine,
Dear Source of every good;
Jesus, in thee what glories shine!
How rich thy flowing blood!

Come, all ye pining, hungry poor, 
The Saviour's bounty taste; 
Behold a never-failing store
For every willing guest

Here shall your numerous wants receive
A free, a full supply;
He has unmeasured bliss to give,
And joys that never die.