jenifriend

In my younger years I had a plan:
Graduate high school.
Graduate college.
Meet a hunky guy while in college; marry right out of college.
Get the heck out of Kansas.
Take a few years and travel the world.
Have all of my babies (all four of them) before I turned 30.
Live next door to my best friend and raise our babies together.
Live happily ever after.

I had it all figured out. Then life intervened.

I didn’t count on:
School loans that required me to take on several big kid jobs at once just to make ends meet.
The drugs I dove into that put me in a downward spiral and a stroke waiting to happen.
Being married and divorced in a matter of 15 months.
Watching my brother bring joy into this world in the shape of the raddest chick on the planet…and realizing I didn’t have anything close to that for myself.
Losing friendships for years on end due to ignorant pride and having an unwillingness to change.
Being pregnant…and then not being pregnant.
Realizing that I’d never leave Kansas City because…surprisingly…I didn’t want to.
Walking away from God, and returning to Him many many years later.

I didn’t count on this. I didn’t count on all this crap. Sure, all these things happened as a result of my choices, but this isn’t what I banked on. This.wasn’t.the.plan. My plan.

But it surely was someone else’s.  :)

Without that debt, I wouldn’t have learned to appreciate money and the fruits of my labor. I also wouldn’t have found Jeremy…this big kid job led me to more than just a steady paycheck and responsibility.

Without the drugs, I wouldn’t have found a reason to start anew and leave my most depressed of days behind.

Without the marriage and divorce, I wouldn’t have learned that what it takes to really make a relationship work isn’t how right we can be but how much we’re willing to sacrifice for our partner.

Without Grace, I wouldn’t have found a reason to be a better person. Period.

Without losing some of my closest friends, I wouldn’t have learned how to eat a piece of humble pie. I wouldn’t have learned that real friends don’t just share the good times, they sometimes create the bad times and force me to own up to myself.

Without losing a baby, I would never have understood what it’s like to feel real loss. I would never have found true appreciation for life.

Without Kansas City, I wouldn’t have started my life. Our life. Together. Had I bailed on Kansas I would’ve bailed on love.

Without God I would still be sitting all alone in an apartment, filled with nothing but one couch and a cable-less television, unknowing of the life I deserved and relentless in my pursuit to play the martyr. Thank God for Him; He was my greatest lesson learned.

20/100

I’ve been on this healthy-eating = healthy-living kick lately. It was initiated when I couldn’t get my wedding dress zipped up back at the end of August and has turned into a rather nice piece of 1.5 hour wind down time at the gym three times a week with my future husband. I eat better than I used to and I see a difference. The rewards are vast and showing. 

But there are days when I want to just be lazy. I want to sit on the couch and do nothing beside eat a vat of French fries dipped in ranch sauce (not ranch dressing) and a big fat bad-for-me burger. Oh the delight I’d take in it. 

And oh the guilt I would feel (and see) the next day. 

There are days, with my faith, when I want to just be lazy. I want to close the Bible and drop the f-bombs and just do whatever I please because I want to do it. Oh the delight I’d take in being completely selfish. 

And oh the guilt I would feel (and see) the next day. 

But, like the healthy-living lifestyle I am trying to live, my faith requires more of me than just giving up. It requires trust and belief in knowing that the steps I’m taking right now to be a better Christian will pay off in the future. The time I spend in conversation with God will create in me a confident, God-fearing soul that serves others on behalf of the Lord. My faith workout will give me strength and endurance for the battles which will come my way, and show me the light so I don’t stray into the darkness of temptation. So when I falter (because I will), it’ll be easier for me to get back up and continue the good fight. 

So for now, I’ll pass on the bad-for-me burger and vat of French fries dipped in ranch sauce spectacularness. Because in the end, I’ll have a different kind of strength and motivation that strays far beyond just giving in to the temptation of fat. So when I falter (because I will), it’ll be easier for me to get back up and continue the good fight.

20/100

I’m a naturally fearful person. Fearful is my middle name. Next to Lee. To the right of it. Jeni Lee Fearful Friend. That’s me.

I double-checked all the doors in my house. And just for good measure, I locked my bedroom door too. Because I’m afraid of what happened once. That one time in college when that one guy took a nine-iron to my door and tried to get to me in a drunken/angry/crazy rage. I keep the light in the bathroom turned on while Jeremy’s away, because the light soothes me. The darkness cripples me. I’m vulnerable and petrified of who I can’t see through the thickness of the pitch black. I’m convinced that someone is after me.

Then somehow, in the midst of my fear, I am convinced that someone is covering me. Blanketing me in love and security. God. Lost in prayer and mumbling to myself, I surrender to an exhaustion-induced slumber.

If I die before I wake I pray the Lord my soul to take.

It’s silly…the fear that cripples me. That fear that prevents me from even walking to the mailbox alone or without Jeremy watching from the doorway if dusk has already passed. That fear that has me walking with my finger on the car alarm button when I’m anywhere in public. That fear that prevents me from having full faith in God.

Lord, I surrender. I choose trust. In you, my beautiful Savior. I’m the only thing keeping me from releasing this fear. I’m ready to strip the blinds from the windows and let your light shine through my darkness. I know you’ll lead me through to the end of this tunnel and bring me to a warmth that radiates through my every being. I trust that my vulnerability is not an invite for you to hurt me; it’s an invite for you to heal me. Heal me, Lord. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.

17.5/100

After much complaining about my weight and lack of losing it, Jeremy dragged demanded encouraged me to reopen my membership at our local gym.

Monday is my favorite of days (really) when we do chest and triceps. I arrived yesterday to him telling me to pick up both 10 and 20 lb weights.

Wait…what?  20 lbs? You’re kidding right? Isn’t that, like, the equivalent of benchpressing my niece?  Anyways, after about 30 seconds worth of tantrum-throwing begging politely requesting that I use a lesser weight, I gave in.  I continued to complain through my first set of 20 lb free-weight benchpressing until I noticed in the mirror a man doing arm exercises on another machine and exercising with no complaints.

And one arm.

After a moment of staring (I admit it…I’m a starer…very far off from being a glancer) I heard it in my heart.

What do you have to complain about, Jeni?

Touché, self.  Touché.

When I’m complaining about lifting two weights, he’s trying to assemble himself to lift one. When I’m complaining that my clothes aren’t relative to the workout (I really tried this as an excuse once), he’s enduring the pinch of a prosthetic with every motion. When I’m complaining because I’m not seeing enough progress for my own standards, he’s continuing to work out an arm that may never gain strength again.

Thanks for the reminder, God. I needed it yesterday. 

17.5/100

A month of looking at the big picture was a challenge.  That’s an understatement.  It was a rather large challenge.

I enjoy seeing the details, remembering the small moments that are otherwise insignificant to others…I find significance there.  So I tried to see life through a different sort of lens this month…it wasn’t easy.  But I did my best…

Coasters sealed with hugs and kisses…that was my favorite bigger picture moment this month.

The rest you can see here…the ones before you can see here.

15/100

Fullness.  Stuffed.  An act of overindulgence.

Yes.  That was us.  The day we tested wedding cake flavors.

12.5/100

I barely slept.  Fell asleep late.  Woke up early.  Really early.  4:00am kind-of early.  Oy.

So I called up the HTB and listened to him breathe.  It was familiar in this unfamiliar place.  Beneath these coarse blankets with the sand accumulated at my feet…he was my calm.  Any other guy from my past would have hit the red button on their cellie – for all the times I give him grief for not answering…he always answers when I need him to answer most.  Right now.  This moment.

My love kept me company until the sun began to rise.  6:45am.  I left him to his slumber and found my way to the beach.  With friends.  To discover the most beautiful of skies fashioned by God.

He can make quite the impression on my soul.

10/100

Many a new things are happening here.  God’s been redirecting my path lately to be a friend instead of needing a friend.  It’s been terribly difficult, but in the past few weeks I’ve learned a few things:

1.  I love my HTB.  Just when I think it’s not possible to adore him more, he goes and ups the anty and I fall even more in love with him.  I am grateful to God for working on his heart and helping him to be a great leader in our family; he’s doing a fantastic job of it.

2.  Everybody is going through something.  Believe it or not, my problems are simply that.  My problems.  And only me and God and whomever He calls to be included in the journey I’m taking are involved in the fixing of that problem.

3.  There are going to be people who I am not meant to be friends with.  This is okay.  God has bigger plans in store for the way in which my friendship will be directed.

4.  The light at the end of the tunnel is streaming through.  He has given me focus.  He has given me diligence.  He has given me energy.  He has given me proof that He will help me succeed in all He needs me to succeed in.  Everything else…it’s just fluff. 

Through all this my favorite quote rings true in my mind and continues to motivate me in knowing we are all going to be okay, as long as we believe.

“When you get to the edge of all the light you know and are about to step off into darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing one of two things will happen: There will be something solid to land on, or you will be taught to fly.”

And for my friends

Jenna: Proverbs 3:5-6
Chelsea: Matthew 6:34
The mean people who have invaded my life: Just read Romans.  Please.

7.5/100

So there I was…perusing the pillow and rug aisle at Big Lots searching for the perfect rug to put in front of our garage door (which I found) and the perfect rug to place beneath the pup’s food bowl (which I also found) and…perhaps if I could find one decently priced…a decorative pillow.

Which I found. 

So there I was…reaching and crouching and reaching and sifting, searching for all the little perfections to our new home.  I noticed two…maybe three…couples come into the aisle and swiftly turn around to leave again.  Thinking nothing of it, I continued to reach and crouch and reach and sift.  I found what I wanted and tossed the items into the cart.

That’s when I reached for the itch in the middle of my back…

…and that’s when I felt it…the top of my tube top…around my waistline.  In the midst of my reaching and crouching my top had somehow shimmied itself underneath my bra and around my waistline.  So there I was, standing in the middle of the damn aisle…with my goods showing underneath of my one-button-closed cardigan.

The moral of the story = make sure the elastic on your tube top is…elasticy.