Author: soheresmystoryblog

My name is Jennifer. I'm the wife of Dave, my favorite husband ever, and the mom to 450, give or take a few. I've given birth to two handsome baby boys, who have grown in to two handsome, wonderful young men. I do, however, provide snacks, bandaids, a listening ear, emotional support, calls to check in on, and so much more to about 450 kids at the high school where I am the "office lady". So in essence, I have 450 plus kids. My husband and I live in the middle of nowhere, in the upper left corner of the lower 48, with our dogs, cats, occasional cow, and a stray horse named Amber. In the absence of children in the home, our mixed breed lap dog, who happens to be the size of a small pony, has become our fur baby. I have a heart for the broken and hurting. God did not bring me through childhood abuse, bad decisions as a teenager and saved by Christ as an adult, to keep my story to myself. I firmly believe that we are not meant to walk this road alone, I mean God did create Eve because it wasn't good to leave Adam alone.

Angel Tea

soheresmystoryblog

Day 5

When I was a little girl my mom would make me Angel Tea when I was sick. I used to think it had healing properties, and there was something so comforting about it when mom brought you a cup of this warm and magical potion.

Really it’s just tea with a little sugar and milk. I believe that it is also referred to as Milk Tea. The funny thing about positive childhood memories like this one is that it doesn’t matter the simplicity of the recipe, but the gesture my mom was making trying to comfort me when I was sick that showed me that she loved me.

Now, a few years later, when I’m not feeling well, with Angel Tea in a treasured cup, I find comfort in the magical potion and the memories it holds.

Worship

soheresmystoryblog

Day 4

Today, being in church with my family singing praises to our Lord and Savior, my heart was filled with gratitude. As I looked to my left and right, just being there with people I love was such a blessing, but then I heard the still small voice, reminding me that we should also be grateful for the opportunity, the privilege we have here in the United States to gather in public to sing praises, to hear God’s word, to speak so freely of our faith. In many places, they have never heard the name Jesus, and in others it is a crime to own a Bible.

My gratitude post for this day has many layers, all wrapped up in a worship service.

Fire

soheresmystoryblog

Day 3

There is something about wood heat that is so different from any other heat source. After being outside in the rain, wind, and cold, there is nothing like coming in and sitting next to a cozy fire. The warmth reaches to the depth of your bones, and there is nothing like sitting there with a cup of tea and a good book.

Today, on this wet and windy day, I am thankful for the heat from our wood stove.

Sweet Gifts

soheresmystoryblog

Day 2

The gift of a friendship is a blessing. The gift of a friendship forged on an epic road trip, with someone who challenges you to settle for nothing less than to be who God created you to be, with a lot of adventures, walking through valleys together and celebrating on mountain tops, that friendship is one of God’s sweetest gifts. For this friendship, I give thanks.

Embrace The Beautiful Mess

soheresmystoryblog

The theme of my blog is “Embrace The Beautiful Mess That You Are”. I chose this theme because I feel like that’s the root of my struggles, accepting who God made me to be. I don’t mean that in a passive accept that you got cheese pizza when you really wanted pepperoni. I mean it like figuring out who I am and instead of trying to change to be like others, celebrate who I am. Celebrate that I am a person who feels everything. When someone I love or even someone I know is hurting, I hurt with them, when they are happy, I am happy with them. I have also experienced great anguish for someone else’s burden and brokenness. It is a pain so deep that tears flow uncontrollably and my heart physically hurts for them.

I will be honest, this feels like my cross. I often wonder if this is part of the depression wiring in my brain. I know that some people believe that you can be cured of depression, and some truly can. However, I am not one of those people. I will forever fight the imbalances in my brain that make some molehills feel like mountains, the potholes feel like the Grand Canyon and making getting out of bed a daily choice. I will forever feel with the very fibers that make up the core of my soul.

Some people see this as a flaw, believe me I have my fair share of flaws, but feeling at the depths of my soul, that isn’t one of them. Others see it as a weakness, because at times it can be debilitating. I used to believe those things about myself, but then I found this quote:

If anyone ever dismisses you for being too sensitive, ask yourself this: Who is more fragile? The person who is brave enough to share when something hurts? Or the person who cannot apologize or admit to having caused pain? Sensitivity, empathy compassion, these are badass superpowers.

Nanea Huffman

Then I remember that I am created in Gods image. I know, I can see you rolling your eyes, but He made me the sensitive, empathetic, compassionate badass that I am, for a specific purpose.

We are all flawed, in one way, shape or form, but we are all beautiful messes. My purpose is to share my story. This blog is me, embracing the beautiful mess that I am. I hope that I can be of encouragement to you, in fact I welcome any comments, remarks, or questions.

 

 

 

 

 

What’s Your Word

soheresmystoryblog

Towards the end of the year, for the last several years, I pray about what I should focus on for the next year. I pray for a word, or in the case of 2018 it was two. Some have been Brave…be brave and share your story. Persue…persue Jesus. Grit and Grace…be a woman who taps into the grit God gave me to do the hard work, and show myself and others the grace none of us deserve.

I am just beginning the process of praying for my word for 2019, but I am curious if anyone else does this? What do you think about this idea? I would love to hear your thoughts… what’s your word?

 

What Does Your Cover Look Like?

soheresmystoryblog

You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover…we have all heard that saying (insert eye roll) . If you had a cover that would tell the story of your past and current struggles, the baggage you carry that makes you ….well… YOU…what would it look like?

My cover…It would be one hot mess. There would be words, like depression, anxiety, dysfunctional family, sexual abuse, control issues, low self esteem, voices in my head, run away, scream, no support structure, and hot mess chaioticly scribbled.  There would be splatters of color covered by large black circles that seem to suck you in without warning.  There would be a beautiful girl being pulled in so many directions, by so many things/people that her limbs look like they will be torn off, her gorgeous curls are frazzled into a rats nest, at one point she looks too thin and then too heavy.

In all that hot mess, would be a giant heart because she has so much love for God, and the people that have been placed in her life or just along her path.

What does your cover look like?

October

soheresmystoryblog

Every October 1st, I write a poem on my chalkboard as I decorate my house for fall.  It’s one of my favorite I love the lively playfulness it gives to something we might take for granted as the seasons change.

October’s Party

October gave a party;

The leaves by hundreds came

The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples

And leaves of every name.

The Sunshine spread a carpet,

And everything was grand

Miss Weather led the dancing,

Professor Wind the band.

The Chestnuts came in yellow,

The Oaks in crimson dressed;

The lovely Misses Maple

In scarlet looked their best;

All bowed to their partners,

And gaily fluttered by

The sight was like a rainbow

New fallen from the sky.

Then in the rustic hollow

At hide-and-seek they played,

The party closed at sundown

And everybody stayed

Professor Wind played louder;

They flew along the ground;

And then the party ended

In jolly “hands around.”

-George Cooper-

 

The Wind Tunnel In My Head

soheresmystoryblog

There are so many thoughts, words, incomplete sentences racing through my head, but I can’t seem to catch one to put on paper.

I feel like one of those people that have the opportunity to go into the wind tube full of money and they get to keep whatever they catch. Most people come out with a couple of bucks but not a significant amount of cash. The lucky contestant stands in the clear tube, where they are showered with money swirling around them like autumn leaves. Audience members comment, cheer and try to encourage the contestant, who is frantically swiping their hands in the air, tying to grasp any of the bills fluttering about them.

Here I am sitting at my keyboard, wanting…NEEDING to write, to get these thoughts out and on to the paper. These words and thoughts are debilitating at times, giving me anxiety and paralyzing me in my inability to articulate them. Like a small wound that goes unattended becoming infected, causing pain and discomfort, so are the thoughts and words swirling around in my head.

Is this a common affliction writers experience? Is there a switch for the wind machine that will allow the thoughts to gently fall, enabling me to grasp them, my brain to process them, and my hands to record their music through the strokes of my keyboard? If there is such a button or switch, please share with me how to locate and disable it, because right now it is disabling me.