Tag: Jesus

The Gift of Loneliness

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I get out of bed, look in my mirror, and firmly say, “Jackie, you’re a big girl now. Just do it.”

And I obediently go to Walmart to buy more tea and cough syrup – and comfort my weary self that at least I will get to see other humans while I’m out.

Being this sick so soon in my VS term was not in my plans. Taking this many days off work, when I came here to serve, definitely is going against my grain.

But in all things, there is purpose. I’m not just waiting to get better so I can continue my purpose here – this, right now, has got to have purpose too.

Because of the ways others have reached out to me, I have new inspiration to care for the sick – just as soon as I get better.

Yesterday a friend drove half an hour just to bring me a jar of deep tissue rub. She didn’t ask if she may come – she said she would be coming around 2:00, and that was that. There was nothing I could do other than be grateful.

Others have messaged me with advice about where to buy home remedies in this area. They helped me figure out which walk-in clinic to go to.

There are good people following Christ’s command to care for the sick, even though it’s just a routine thing that should resolve in a few days. It’s a vast understatement to simply say, I’m blessed by their caring. I’m not alone.

Driving myself to an unfamiliar city to see a doctor, and doing all the insurance paperwork that goes with it, it was tempting to feel alone.

Coming back to my empty house to continue being my own nurse, I will admit, I cried. Even though I love it here, change has it’s challenges as I expected it would. Homesickness hasn’t hit me often, and not since the first few weeks of getting settled.

But getting sick and having to navigate the medical system here made it come back in full force yesterday. The pleasant quietness of the first few days in my house was quickly feeling more like oppressive loneliness.

(And then the why’s start whispering… why, why, is God not making me better so I can go back to work?)

I don’t know entirely why, but it has given me more time (between naps) for my book study.

I was inspired to think about ways this time off work can be a gift.

It takes strong discipline of the mind to get off the track of feeling sorry for ourselves, and looking for the purpose God has in every challenge.

Being sick isn’t new to me, I’ve experienced that before. It’s the loneliness while being sick, that is brand new. I’ve been blessed, until now, to live at home where Mom just did fuss over me when I was sick – even though I could have cared for myself.

So, the loneliness is the part that I’m wrestling with. And that’s what I chose to ponder last evening during my devotional time.

“God, if You’re allowing this to go on for days, I know it has purpose – help me to see beauty in it.”

Some of you probably wouldn’t need to write yourselves a sermon to find joy in challenges – I guess I process by writing, so that’s what I did.

When I can see truth spelled out in words, it sinks deep into my heart.

Here are the words that were a soothing answer to my searching last night.

Loneliness is a gift.

It is an opportunity to run to Jesus because there is no one else present.

It is an avenue to a more intimate dependence on Jesus, free of distractions.

Loneliness is an open door to more of God.

Through greater dependence on Him, I am shown His vast ability to provide in a fuller way.

When I accept the loneliness as a gift and embrace the opportunities in it, God shows me how He provides. Sometimes in material ways, sometimes through people, often in unexpected ways…

He provides, and it is amazing.

Dear Jesus, let me not seek an escape from loneliness, but rather, seek You in it – because I am never truly alone. Amen.

They Call Me Mom

Published on by JackieLeave a comment

My people are all sleeping.

Blankets were tucked around wrinkly chins, gray hair was brushed into ponytails for the night, and shaky arms reached up to hug me before I turned out the light.

I held hands larger than my own and prayed bedtime prayers for a good night of pain free, restful sleep.

They’re not my children.

Most of them are old enough to be my grandparents, or at least my parents.

But they call me, “Mom.”

Sometimes they say it teasingly, but there’s an underlying note of seriousness. And other times, depending what they’ve just asked me to do for them, there’s a depth of emotion in their voice when they say, “thank you – Mom.”

A lot of the residents in the care home where I volunteer are children at heart.

They remained dependent on their parents into adulthood, and still need to be mothered. But their moms have either passed away, or are too elderly to care for them anymore, and so they are here to receive the care they need.

I wish I could have met the moms represented by the people I serve.

These women who must have been wonderfully dedicated mothers, for how affectionately they’re spoken of by their now-elderly children.

These women who knew just how to tuck the sheets, and which kind of bedtime snack, and how to soothe a hurting heart.

I’m trying to learn these things about each resident, because they deserve to feel at home. I come here to work; they live here. This is home to them, and we need to provide care with all the homey touches their moms had.

It’s daunting.

But I love them. And even though it’s challenging, and not always easy, I’m determined to love them well.

Whenever I’m faced with a task that’s not so appealing, I remind myself that this person was created by Jesus. I visualize Him kneeling beside this bed, or pushing this wheelchair, or cleaning up this floor.

And I ask, “How would Jesus love this person?”

I can never replace their mothers that they still miss so much.

I certainly can’t know and meet their needs in perfection like Jesus would.

But maybe, with the daily challenge to do each act of service the way Jesus would, I can provide care that lets them know without a doubt: they are precious, and they are loved.

I know one thing for sure: they fill my heart.

And, out of all the names I get called in a day (trust me, there’s a wide variety) I always smile when they call me “Mom.”

Treasures in Earthen Vessels

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At first glance, they were ordinary. A few mismatched pieces of pottery. Nice enough, but simple. Graceful, unmarred, but nothing stunning about any of them.

And yet, something about their unbroken simplicity was intriguing. The smooth surfaces and graceful designs spoke of gentle innocence, a kind of newness that is rarely seen.

Then… they were smashed. Cruelly, beneath the hammer’s unfeeling blows, they cracked into pieces. The one holding the hammer trembled. It felt so wrong to do this… to ruin this perfect vessel so brutally.

Yet it had to be done. It was part of the process. The vessel couldn’t reach the greater beauty ahead without being broken open first…

So many pieces. So many heartaches, tears, and wounds. Yet so, so much more to come.

Gentle hands gather the pieces and begin to rebuild. It’s a slow process. Sometimes, it falls apart in the artist’s hands and steps need to be repeated that had been previously done. But it’s worth every minute of waiting for the pieces to form a strong, mended bond.

And gradually, restoration takes place. They take on their former shape, yet with so much more vibrance. Where before they had an innocent, subtle kind of beauty, their cracks and lines now radiate that grace with a brilliantly soft kind of strength.

They are remade. They have some holes and uneven places, but they are beautiful. They have survived the crushing and been restored to wholeness – with so much gold added.

Kintsugi.

A beautiful form of Japanese art, that translates so well to our lives.

We’re all like those vessels… God saw our lives beautiful and whole in the beginning, but Satan entered the picture and marred the scene of perfection.

I like to think that our Heavenly Father cries as He watches the hammer blows that break us, because it was not His original plan that evil would exist to affect our lives. Yet because we fell away from God and live in a broken world, we can’t remain whole. Every one of us is ruined by the effects of the curse.

And we can ask, “Since God is more powerful, why doesn’t He just take over? Shut Satan down?”

But He will. He has already won, yet as long as time continues, the enemy still has his season to steal, kill, and destroy.

But God only allows it to happen knowing that He is about to gather the pieces and do something wonderful. He always triumphs over evil in the end, whether we see it in this life or not until eternity.

It is His hands that hold us while we are being broken by life’s pain, His hands that gather the pieces, and His hands that lovingly mend us into more beautiful vessels for Him.

Every one of us. Created for perfection. Destroyed by the curse. Yet redeemable by Jesus.

Every one of us… broken, messy, jagged edges, yet He sees in us the potential for beauty.

This past weekend, I had the privilege of gathering with friends and doing the Kintsugi project together. These girls are grace-filled vessels… imperfect, broken, yet filled with Jesus.

We talked. Sang. Prayed. Laughed. Shared. And ate ice cream, of course.

The weekend before, I was blessed by a dear heart pouring love into my life through her own cracks as we sat in the sunshine on an upturned canoe, and hashed out life. Some people don’t stay strangers long – not when you both are a grace-filled vessel because of Christ’s work in your heart.

This week, I met with another friend for a good heart-to-heart talk over chai lattes; the comfortable kind of conversation where you get to to just be and no pretense or explaining is needed.

I am blessed to know a wide circle of girls who are there for me to laugh or cry with, to sing or pray with, through every big or little thing we face in life.

They are people who have allowed Jesus to fill them, to flow through them, to mend them and fill their broken vessels with His love.

They’re all a work in progress, same as I am, but they are beautiful.

They might not always know their worth, but I do.

I know they are priceless, because the way they bless the lives they touch has eternal value.

They are truly treasures in earthen vessels… because Christ-like love is a treasure.. and they are all overflowing with Him.

I don’t pause to thank God or tell them often enough – but I’m so grateful for every one of the Christian friends God has placed in my life.

Christ – My Center in the Chaos

Published on by JackieLeave a comment

It’s Monday morning, grey and foggy, the air is damp and mild, and everything is a tad squishy.

But the trees are coated in beautiful white, a mysterious beauty encrusting their stark bareness against the grey sky.

And here in my classroom, all 23 of my people are working with me in our humming routine.

My coffee is steaming in one of my three favourite “at-school” mugs.

And it’s been a wonderful morning.

I arrived at school feeling sleepy after staying too late last night… set down my things on my desk, glanced at the daily plan, and saw the little sign beside my planbook. “But First, Pray,” it says.

I bought it at Hobby Lobby as a reminder to keep me praying for my students. It would be wonderful if teachers in Christian schools were something of the supernatural – some people think we are, it’s not true – and always managed to pray as much as we should for our students.

It would be great if I wouldn’t be prone to allowing my workload to cloud my vision and demanding priority, but I’m not supernatural. I’m fully human, and with a large class, I’ve struggled more than ever to keep up with everything I want to give my students this year.

But the letter board in my bedroom reminds me every morning when I rise, “yet not i, but through Christ in me.”

And the little sign I placed on my desk a few months ago calls me to prayer again when I arrive at school.

It might not always be long, but breathing a prayer for my students before they arrive, asking for an infilling of Spirit wisdom to teach not only their minds but their hearts, and eyes to see them the way their Creator does – eyes of unconditional love – it makes classroom life so much better.

There are often too many pieces to fit into a day, but when I invite Jesus into my schedule, He becomes the calm Center in my chaos and He always makes a way.

He’s there with me as I greet my students and ask about their weekends.

When class starts, I take prayer requests and am blessed to have so many students willing to pray for the needs of others in our global community of humanity. Hearing the prayers of their young hearts inspires me to keep tending their growth and never give up on them, no matter what may happen later in the day.

Christ is my calm as I walk them through the complexities of math class and answer an abundance of questions.

His Spirit provides answers in the moment-by-moment snap decisions that I need to make.

And somehow, at the end of every whirl of a day, the pile of books on my desk has diminished.

The lessons get taught, the work gets marked, and good conversations happen in the gaps.

I like my little sign that reminds me to pray.

Because the Lord knows I’m human, and humans forget, but it’s because of my humanity that it’s imperative that I remember.

No matter what I’m doing, I need to be stopped in my energetic tracks and let Him remind my soul,

“But first, Pray.”