Jennifer Howe, Author at Facets of Faith

Certainty in the Change

05.08.2018 by Jennifer Howe //

Hi friends, 2018 is moving fast! Soon we’ll land in summer, and spring will be the overlooked middle child in the seasons family. The change from winter to summer is muddled in Illinois. And that brings me to change, the thing my distracted brain was supposed to focus on! Don’t miss Tracy’s thoughts on going through change here. Kim shares next week. Check in Tuesdays or sign up to receive every post so you don’t miss a thang…

Body and Mind Games
I’m about that age. The math gets easy next year when my birth year and the current year end in nines. Night sweats—any-time-of-day sweats, actually—have come and gone. No one would ever guess, they say. The “metallic roots” were obvious (to me). When I stripped the boxed brown out and tinted the bleached blonde underneath to “natural grey,” I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror. I got strange looks from my friends, too. I still lift heavy things in the gym. I tried Brazilian Jiu Jitsu this year, and I was reminded my brain writes checks the body won’t cash. Some changes wrack the body and mind. I’m adjusting (not so willingly).

Who Am I?
As hard as physical changes are, some changes ambush me differently. When my identity or my heart is in the change’s crosshairs, it’s a whole other kind of hard. My life was recently upended kind of like that.

I officially donned the teacher-mom hat in 2005; but really, I’ve been a teacher-mom from the beginning. Once upon a time, it was me and two active little boys in a very organized school room. The older was a learning “sponge” and a lover of books, including the dictionary. The younger was a carpe diem kind of kid, an experiential learner who kept me on my toes. The three of us pursued learning together every weekday.

I poured energy and time into lesson plans, courses, and grading. Life had a rhythm: summer’s dreams crescendoed to the fall kick-off; winter’s cabin fever gave way to spring’s finish line. The promise of exciting summer dreams fueled the late nights before the fall kick-off. Every year.

After nearly 2,100 school days, I’ve taken off the teacher-mom hat. Now that’s a big change!

My little boys grew into young men. Memories of our favorite read-alouds make me cry. (Thanks, Love You Forever and Giving Tree. *sigh*)

Lather, Rinse, Repeat
If you do a thing often enough, the repetition has an effect. As a home schooling mom, I taught. I taught often enough that I believed I was a teacher.

I teach, so I must be a teacher.

Bear with me. I think we can generalize. Try filling in the blank. I _____, so I must be a ______. The problem is, we mistakenly assume an identity in connection with whatever fills the first blank, good or bad. What happens when something changes?

Some changes are wonderful and wanted:

At one time I lied, so I was a liar.

The change was welcome:

I told the truth, so I became a truth-teller.

It gets complicated when the change is surprising, confusing, or incomplete.

I was a teacher, but now—.

Self-examination can be helpful during a big change. If I get it right, it encourages me to put words on the page and keeps me from wasting time hoping for a big break and a recording contract. It may put my unique, God-given strengths and my weaknesses to work. But I’m not the sum of what I do. I need a healthy source of identity; we all do. We need a “sane, stable, and spiritual” identity. A rational, balanced, solid, spiritual identity comes from one source, frankly: God.

It’s in relationship to God, the One who never changes, that we find an unshakable identity.

Who Are You?
When we’re at a loss for words, when we’ve forgotten who we really are, we can run to the source of truth for a solid description of our identity. Can I share some thoughts, “Word weapons” if you will, for when amnesia sets in?

So God created humankind in his own image; in the image of God he created him: male and female he created them. Genesis 1:27 CJB

But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, John 1:12 ESV

See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. 1 John 3:1-2 ESV

Do you not know that your body is a sanctuary of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body. 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 ESV

But you are the ones chosen by God, chosen for the high calling of priestly work, chosen to be a holy people, God’s instruments to do his work and speak out for him, to tell others of the night-and-day difference he made for you— 1 Peter 2:9 MSG

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. Colossians 3:1-3 CSB

I love checking myself in the scripture “mirror” rather than the one on my bathroom wall because that image looks like my Jesus. That image represents the welcome change and the help I need in the middle of change. That image isn’t tied to a day of the week, an age, or the people around me.

The verses up there are a smidge of the truth between the covers of a Bible. When I’m going through change, I’m desperate for truths like these. My hope is that we’ll choose to arm ourselves for the mental and emotional battle before we’re in the middle of it.

Let’s ask, “Who am I?” and “Whose am I?” Then answer solidly and sanely from the Source of our identity.

Thanks for reading along. Have you taken time to seek truth from the scripture “mirror” lately? Tell me about your experience. I’m curious!

Love and Rescue: What might’ve been—except…

04.10.2018 by Jennifer Howe //

Hey, friend! Welcome to our April topic: What has God rescued you from? This month started off with a heart-felt share from Tracy, and I can’t wait to hear from Kim and our guest author the next two weeks. Check in Tuesday mornings here or at our Facebook Page—April promises to be a celebration of the rescue mission our Daddy-God planned from the beginning of time. For every single one of us!

I (Jennifer) sit quietly in my caffeinated hidey hole, pre-Resurrection Day, and I’m in awe of the intricate strands braided at the cross on Friday. Deepest love, excruciating pain, and hours of suffering twist tightly, not that different from the crown of thorns pressing on Jesus’ brow. Then Friday’s crusty, blood-red thorns were exchanged for a gilded crown forever on Sunday morning. He came, lived, and loved! And the rescue mission was victorious when Jesus rose from the dead and opened the way to eternal life for us all.

A Resurrection made possible by—
Resurrection: God’s power on display. How beautiful! It’s amazing and almost inconceivable—the God of the universe unseated himself from heaven’s perfection, stooped down to humanity’s messy condition, and bore immeasurable pain—all on a rescue mission for the rebel horde (all of us!). The resurrection power could never be, though, without the crucifixion on Friday. That’s a “no-brainer” in one sense, but have you seriously thought about it? We might be tempted to leap past the ugly, bloody, rugged cross to chocolate bunnies and brightly-colored eggs. And that would be natural, I suppose. Certainly the images of the two days and the way we observe them stand in stark contrast.

The rescue mission began in rough, 1-Star accommodations in a manger setting, and included all 33 years of Jesus’ life. Now we zero in on the final week of his life; it culminated in a battle that shook the heavenly realms and a victory for the Christ, the King of all.

Me—like it never happened…
So, how did this rescue mission work out for me, personally? I thought about it earlier this week. A friend gave me a fantastic story idea: What if I met my earlier self down the road from age 23, but the self who chose not to identify with Christ? (Think: parallel universe.) What would happen if the seeds in my younger self had germinated and grown and bloomed? That could reveal what I was rescued from, couldn’t it?

What might’ve been…
I imagine meeting myself at a very different hidey hole.

[Insert 80s television show wavy lines preceding an alternate reality here.]

She’s at a dark corner table taking a short break from a string of two-steps, double-twos, swings, and line dances. A freshly starched southwestern button-down, faded Wranglers, an oversized, silver buckle, and beat-up twenty-five-year-old boots. She looks put-together and fits right into her environment—perfect for playing the game.

A little unsteady on her feet by 10 o’clock with several Bartels & Jameses down the hatch, but she has some of her wits about her. Bottles gather in the middle of the table. An equal number of men wonder how they could buy her a drink and be ignored. She’s not going down that road.

Men are heartache and trouble. There’s no cowboy riding to the rescue. There never was, her inner voice hisses.

She wipes the sweat from a new bottle and offers the man a nod and flashes a disinterested raised brow. The fifth quizzical look chalked up. Another brick and mortar in the wall.

Heartbreak is on her face. The losses are big: children (by choice), her home (by her fiery temper), cars (by repeated “accidents”). The pain and abuse scrawled all over her story shows. Anger, stress, and bitterness fold into every wrinkle. There’s no inquisitive, interested-in-life-and-learning look on her face. It’s sour lemons never made into anything. It’s distrust and disgust.

Colored and carefully styled hair frames her face, and dark emotion seethes behind perfectly made-up green eyes. Appearances are everything. They work for her. But the attractive appearance is in contrast to her social presence once she opens her mouth. She’s all sunshine or summer storm. She chooses word weapons from the arsenal carefully. If anyone hangs around, her grit and salt grinds until their rash begs tending. No one hangs around long. Verbal bricks in the wall against the world.

The “Principle of the Least Interest” is still in play. She works relationships the way she buys cars.

Never let ‘em know how interested you are. You never experience loss or pain publicly if nobody knows. Prepare to walk away. No commitment is safe. It’s better there’s no commitment.

She’s been through loads of “test drives” without signing her life away. Not surprising. The wall is thick. Impenetrable. Unless she wants it.

[End Scene]

Rescued!
Want to know what I was rescued from? I imagine it’s all that and more. No doubt, my hard places could have etched deep creases. Abuse could take its toll. Sad life choices could take over. More importantly, all of it could become deeply-ingrained pathways in the mind, keeping me prisoner to the thought life they drove. The relational patterns, life choices, and conceit could have become a lifestyle merry-go-round. The use of words could’ve been the same and very different. (Different vocabulary, for sure!)

I imagine the internal and external looking different and dark, but something gnaws at me.

What was I really rescued from?
I was rescued from what might’ve been and more! The seething emotional pain, relational distance, and all-about-me ego was part of it, but there was something deeper. The rebel in me at the DNA level stood in futile opposition to God (hot, angry, spewing obscenities, fists clenched, for sure!). That, my friend, could only mean one thing: Jesus could have granted my wish to be separate from the God I didn’t know or want. That’s not what he would have wanted, but in this case, we can have what we want.

[They perish] because they did not accept the love of the truth in order to be saved. 2 Thessalonians 2:10b CSB

[I]t is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones perish. Matthew 18:14

Friend, Jesus rescued me from ME. Daddy-God used every event in life to show me how sweet life could be when I was rescued from certain death to real life with Jesus.

For God loved the world in this way: He gave His One and Only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16

I give them eternal life, and they will never perish—ever! No one will snatch them out of My hand. John 10:28

Thanks for reading along. We’d love to hear your rescue story. Pop a comment below or visit our Facebook Page. If you believe FACETS is worth sharing, we’d love that, too.

Want to talk more about the rescue? Contact us.

God, I’m Desperate—I Want to See!

03.13.2018 by Jennifer Howe //

Hi friend, I’m thankful you popped in to see what’s happening at Facets. This month we’re talking about that thing we are desperate for God to do, our deepest need. I love writing with my beautiful friends, Tracy and Kim, and if you haven’t taken time to read their hearts on any topic, I hope you will. Tracy shared here last Tuesday, Kim will be with us next week, and I look forward to our guest wrapping it all up the following week. That’s how we roll.

I can imagine each of us on our knees, something carefully cupped in our hands held up for our Daddy-God to see—“Abba, please help…” I know I’ve been there, and somehow I think you have, too. To me, it feels like my deepest need wells up inside and finds a voice. I might try to squelch it or let it fly, but it will not be silenced. The heart cry simply must have its way. It must be heard. And it can be overwhelming.

When I tried to find a way to share with you this kind of need, I was at a loss. When have I wanted something so much that time and importance caused my whole self to nearly shake with the ask? I wasn’t sure if I was thankful or sad when nothing came to mind. If I were desperate, wouldn’t it be on my mind day and night? I would think so.

Then I was “gifted” a story.

Seeing is tougher than it looks…
My first pair of glasses were fitted in eighth grade. That’s when squinting in the front row of class finally failed me, and it was time to admit I couldn’t see. I won’t bore you, but the journey of glasses has been hard. I have “tricky” eyes, and each appointment often feels more of a disappointment. Two eyes that aren’t wired to work together is troubling and complicated, so I learned to work around it. The brain is amazing! In my whole four-eyed life, there were two pair of glasses that were great. Just two. The others were—“meh.”

I may have been relieved to find my last doctor left the area, a perfect excuse to go somewhere new. But my poor husband heard my messy, emotional wrestle for days: “I just want to SEE! I hate these appointments. The doc’ asks me to do stuff my eyes can’t do, and I fight the feeling of failure. The prescription is right for the individual eyes, but then it never works for both together. Arrrrrrgh!” (In that last bit, the heart cry leaked all over the place.)

I couldn’t imagine actually seeing, but I was desperate to see.

“The bar is set pretty low if I only have to beat these glasses!” My new optometrist cleared the bulky equipment out of the way.

This time the whole journey toward this set of glasses mirrored what was in my own soul.

God, I’m desperate to SEE!
It’s more than a pair of glasses I need, and I know it.

“Can the blind guide the blind? Won’t they both fall into a pit? A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like his teacher.” Luke 6:39b-40 CSB

Sometimes God gives me a peek into my own heart if I’m willing to look. When I can’t see, would I try to lead others, or even tell them how to see the world? Sadly, I might. Especially when I don’t know how poor my vision is.

“Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but don’t notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself don’t see the log in your eye? Hypocrite! First take the log out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck in your brother’s eye. Luke 6:41-42 CSB

I don’t know about you, but I want to hear that word “Hypocrite!” cut to my soul with a whisper when I need it. I want to know when I’m scrutinizing others but overlooking my stuff. I have friends who act as a “soul doctor” and tell me when they observe it. I’m thankful when they do. I want to listen carefully and respond well whether it’s a friend, family, or casual observer. I want to listen when the voice is warm and soft or direct and scalpel-like.

It’s a process, isn’t it?
The eye exam was my living metaphor. I had to make choices. Listening for and understanding direction can be hard. Clear communication takes time and effort. No one likes to say, “Can we try that again?” five times. Perseverance can look clumsy. Repetition can infuse the soul with frustration and words with what I might call “wrong emphasis.” (I’m can’t be the only one to do that.) But the process is worth it!

When I was willing to admit my vision was poor and I needed help, someone could help me. I only needed to go for that help, hang in with the examination process, and be willing to let the doctor do her work. The result? Great glasses for the third time.

Flip that into the spiritual realm, and what does it look like?

Daddy-God, Jesus, Holy Spirit—I can’t see, but I want to! Will you please help me? I want to be the “fully trained disciple” who is like the Teacher. Teach me. Train me. Allow my spiritual eyes to see and love truth, to see and love YOU! Life is hard, and I feel exhausted and helpless sometimes. But I am not helpless. You are my help when I’m in trouble or when I try to lead in my blindness. Can I see YOU in my life?

Jesus said

But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. For truly, I say to you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it. Matthew 13:16-17

When we come to Jesus humbly and let him teach, I think that’s better than any set of glasses. Just sayin’.

Thanks for reading along, friend. If you read this far, I love you! (I love you “skimmers,” too.) If this topic at Facets stirs the desperate need in your soul, let’s start a conversation in the comments below. What does your heart cry sound like? We might even pray for others’ needs. Wouldn’t that be something?

If these words were useful to you, who else might be blessed? Share away, my friend!