From Doubting to Dreaming

I woke up this morning to a heaviness. Doubts and fear about finances, kids, broken vehicles were ready and waiting to pound my peace into the ground.

Do you ever have one of those mornings? You go to bed content. Even joyful.

...Then you wake up the next morning with thoughts all tangled and depression, like a bully, hovering?  Kind of like that cloud in that depression commercial...you know the one? Only, I notice in that commercial that the cloud never really goes away. It just hangs back a bit, like a neglected pet or something. What's up with that?! I want that cloud gone! (Not to mention, I don't want to it possibly cause increased suicidal thoughts!) I can tell you from personal experience that the Master Physician can kick that cloud to the curb! He did it for me years ago and He did it again for me today.

And now I'm just sitting here thinking this morning; He didn't bring me the storm that we just came through (losing our house), but He brought me through it.... and I'm stronger than when it began (get this!) because of the storm! It's like spiritual weight training and He's the personal trainer.

On top of that He showed me color and life where I only saw gray. My eyes just needed to readjust to new landscapes.

I feared, and instead of scolding me, He protected me...

He will cover you with His pinions, And under His wings you may seek refuge; His faithfulness is a shield and bulwark.

Psalm 91:4

My feelings and the enemy of my soul lied to me, but The Lord valiantly fought on my behalf when I was weak. He whispered Love into these ears until I trusted Him again. He spoke Truth to my heart. I believe Him.

And I'm dreaming again. I told you in a previous post that My creativity was returning. Well, so has my dream to upcycle furniture and create things with my hands for more than just a hobby. Doing it as a business is something I've half-heartedly tried and thought about over the past couple years, but never quite had the confidence to throw myself into. Well, I really think that NOW is the time. My other job is not cutting it financially and THIS is what I really want to do!

Let me elaborate some. My husband and I were recently challenged at our church to help with a fundraiser for one of our church's outreach ministries called the Yellow Box. We could come up with whatever fundraiser we wished. Some people are detailing cars and giving oil changes, some are selling freezer meals, a dentist-friend of ours is giving discounted teeth cleanings...the list goes on. Whatever money is raised by February 26th goes to funding the completion of the Yellow Box remodeling, which in turn, will fund various missions and so on.  When we were given this challenge I knew that I wanted to use my love for upcycling old things to help fund this project....so I've been painting...and painting...and painting. And I love doing it. So I've prayerfully taken some time off of my very part-time job to test the waters. I may still work part time for a short while, but once it replaces my income, Lord willing, I'm going grow it so I can just work from my home.

So you may see some changes around here! I'm excited to share the work I've been doing! You'll also probably see some new pages...maybe even another blog, eventually. We'll cross that bridge when we get there :)

I'll post some of the pieces I've done below. You may recognize a couple of them, but most of them are things I've worked on in the past few weeks. I'll keep you posted as new pieces are created.

All of this makes me wonder...Would I even be stepping out on this limb to pursue this dream if I hadn't been uncomfortable and tried for a season?

Probably not.

Annie Sloan Graphite

Annie Sloan Old white and Graphite.

LOVED the natural crackles.

Annie Sloan Old White w/ dark wax. Graphite stencils

Annie Sloan paint and various acrylics. I did this in January.

Annie Sloan Graphite and Emporer's Silk w/ Dark Wax.

Annie Sloan Duck Egg Blue.

A wash of Annie Sloan Duck Egg Blue.

Annie Sloan Old White and Duck Egg Blue.

Annie Sloan Emporer's Silk w/ dark wax.

Mixed media piece I did last year.

Vintage wall birds. Repainted white.

A picture I took a couple of years ago and recently framed w/ this vintage frame)

Annie Sloan Old White

....Totally amazed by His grace,

~ Jen

Day 89- It's not as hopeless as it may seem!

 Day 89 ~ Although it still looks dead and brown out back, I'm beginning to see new life peeking up here and there. It may look dead, but it's definitely not! Spring is on it's way! Yay!
I'm a little confused about the day I should be on for the mommytography 365 project.  Based on the website it looks like it should be day 79 today, but after checking out several other beautiful photos from other's who are participating, I'm finding they are on day 89 instead. I guess I'll go the majority rules route.

Here are a few more pics from my walk in the backyard this morning...

My Art Lesson

  For the past few years I've grown more and more aware of the incredible artist God is by looking at things closer through the lens of my camera... I've become even More aware since I began reading Ann Voskamp's book One Thousand Gifts.
As I take more time to give thanks for each gift He gives, all of them precious pieces from His collection, I learn the new language that Ann speaks of in her book. That of eaucharisteo (or Thanksgiving.) Every good and perfect gift comes from above. ~James 1:17
  As my wonder grows at the beauty of His works, my heart expands.

And the thought often comes that my life is one that is being transformed into a beautiful work of Art by the Master Artist.
I'm going to attempt to paint a word picture for you. Thoughts seem to flow freely enough into my mind, but it's quite another thing for me to turn around and express them to someone else. Maybe this way they will make some kind of sense to you.

(photo by Sadie J Valeri)

  Imagine an artist beneath a canopy of trees, canvas on easel. The day beautiful and sunny. Nature, full of life and vivid color. I guess, in my mind's eye, this would be where my word-picture begins. My life being the canvas, stretched and securely fitted to the frame. And me; a painting just begun. Yes, a work of art, But very much a work in progress.
And If I believe that God’s the Artist of artists and that He will finish the work He started in me (Phil. 1:4), that he knit me together in my mothers womb and made my inner being (Psalm 139:13), then shouldn't I believe that my life can be lovely here in the present, flaws and all? And that one day when He has completed His work in me it will be entirely beautiful?  

  I do believe He will finish the work He began in me...But I get so impatient sometimes. I want the lines and contours on the canvas, that seem utterly pointless at the moment, to hurry up and find their connections, to form some sort of a picture to help me see where this is going. The progress seems so slow. I want it to look beautiful now. I want my "why's" to be answered now. So even as He carefully transforms this paint-on-canvas to masterpiece, each stroke deliberate and full of love, all I see is an unfinished piece. And it's here, when I look at things with my near-sighted, natural eyes that I get it all wrong and buy the lies... allow the thought seeds to settle, then take root.
"Maybe I know what I need more than God does." 
"Maybe He doesn't really care."
  So I grab the brush from His hand and try to do it faster, easier...my way.
  And do I actually think I can do better Than Him? The One who alone made all things, stretched out the heavens and spread out the earth? (Isaiah 44:24) Did you catch that? Alone! And I'm really gonna top that? Right...

  Yet I stubbornly swish the brush. "Thanks, but I've got this God! I think I know what's best for me!" And although there have been times His strong arms have held me back from danger, this one is a lesson He allows me to learn. One I need to learn. Even as His heart aches...Even as I run recklessly from His will, He allows it. And He waits. Knowing in the end this lesson will be for my good.

  As hard as I try, my strokes seem to taint the work He had begun. Smudges of doubt begin to mar His beautiful work. I try to focus, steady my hand. Still, splatters of sin, arrogance and defiance meet with canvas and soon cover the beauty of the brushstrokes made by His hand. Frustrated, I close my eyes... take a deep breath. Condemnation is thick and begins to curl about me and choke. I tell myself "Well, you messed it up Jen, so you better fix it! Pull it together." I open my eyes, try to shake off the anxiety, but see that the sky is now dark and angry. Heavy clouds, pregnant with rain, threaten to burst.
  And then they do. Colors bleed and drip to the ground.

  And as rain falls, so do I; condemnation tightening his grip. And his accomplice, Hopelessness, whispering in my ear, "You will never learn, will you? Your life a piece of art? Ha! You're nothing but trash to be thrown out. You've ruined God's plan for you. Just look at this disaster!" Sorrow crushes...shame burns...pride is smashed to pieces. It's painfully obvious I can't fix this myself. But not all is lost. Because this is where the brush falls from my hand. This is where my will is broken, but my spirit is about to be strengthened. This is where God's grace drowns out whispers of hopelessness. Where I'm reminded that my weakness, my brokenness, is actually the catalyst for restoration. "Through weakness My strength is made strong..." (2 Cor. 12:9)

   Head to hands and face to ground, my tears flow with rain. My heart beats a cadence of repentance, birthed from pain and sorrow. And finally I cry out to Jesus. The One who's name means God with us. And I believe it, because even as the Name crosses these lips I feel Him and I'm comforted.

Eyes now lift and meet His. He's right before me. I suddenly have an understanding that He was never more than a prayer of repentance away.
  I wait for rebuke...To my amazement, instead He cleans off the canvas and begins painting again. And honestly; I still doubt. How can this disaster be made beautiful? I would consider it a waste... toss it aside and find something new to work with. But A smile spreads wide across His face as He works. He clearly sees something redeemable about this piece...About my life... And I trust His eyes more than my own. After all, I know I can't trust my vision. I still see "through a glass, darkly" (not to mention -6.5 prescription glasses) while I'm on this side of eternity. (1 Cor.13:12)

  And as He paints, new colors revive.
  Tears of joy fall, blend, cleanse.
  Texture adds new depth.

  The unsightly splatters are masterfully turned into a garden  of beauty with each stroke.
  The smudges; now formed into stepping stones. Each representing  a story of God's grace in my life. Each bringing me a step closer to Him.

(Photo: idnurse41_Deviantart)

  Everything is now awash with God's color-giving, life-giving glory. Above now, is most brilliant azure. And oh, how wonderful it is to feel the warmth of sunlight after a storm!

  My breath catches at the beauty He creates and suddenly He takes my hand and leads it in a dance across the canvas...Gentle brushstrokes, flowing and beautiful with His Hand steadying mine. Guiding...assuring.
  And I wonder; Why doesn't He scold? After all, I deserve to be taught a lesson, don't I? Is He this quick to forgive? Shouldn't He require some kind of retribution for all I had destroyed? Repayment for all of His time and work on my behalf? But, the scolding never comes.
There have been times I've received rebuke from my Lord...And although I sometimes require of myself some form of penance for my actions, His words sting only for a moment before their healing is released. There's always been healing in His rebuke. He's a good Father. Just and full of love.
Our eyes meet...and with one glance all of my questions are answered...
  The "lesson" began when He allowed me to take the brush into my own hands, As I ran, reckless and wild, bent on painting my own scenery. It continued as my heart broke in repentance over the realization of my sin, and it continues even now, as the beauty of forgiveness fills me with joy unspeakable... I don't get it, but I accept it.

...Thankful. I'm so undeserving... and I'm so thankful.
His lessons don't bruise and scar, but instead, are a balm that heal bruises, bind wounds, and make whole that which sin has impaired.
What a beautiful love...
What an awesome Artist...
What a Glorious God!

Xx's~ Jen

The Story of The Last Stanza

The love of God is greater far
Than tongue or pen can ever tell;
It goes beyond the highest star,
And reaches to the lowest hell;
The guilty pair, bowed down with care,
God gave His Son to win;
His erring child He reconciled,
And pardoned from his sin.

 (Refrain)

O love of God, how rich and pure!

How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure
The saints’ and angels’ song.

When years of time shall pass away,
And earthly thrones and kingdoms fall,
When men, who here refuse to pray,
On rocks and hills and mountains call,
God’s love so sure, shall still endure,
All measureless and strong;
Redeeming grace to Adam’s race—
The saints’ and angels’ song.

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above,
Would drain the ocean dry.
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.

(Link to Mercyme's version of the song)

I love this song and recently I've been reading about the history behind many of today's most cherished hymns. When I ran across the history of this one, I had to share it, not to mention the words of the beautiful hymn itself.
The last stanza of this hymn was found penciled on the wall of a patient's room in a California asylum for the insane in 1917 after he had passed away.
This part of the song's history is amazing to me and I wish I knew more about this guy. Like, why was he there? Was he really insane or was he sick with an illness that caused depression or other mental anguish? He did pass away so that would make sense. Either way, how incredible that he would write about the love of God in such a time of distress...when the demons in his mind were probably trying to convince him of just the opposite. I see this as a deep love and trust in God even through a dark valley of Illness. (Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4)
Anyway, this writing of his was based on the Jewish poem, Hadamut, written by Meir Ben Isaac Nahorai, circa 1050. It was somewhat paraphrased by this mystery patient, but is still beautiful.
A pastor by the name of Fredrick M. Lehman, who somehow learned of these words on the wall and copied them down, was so moved by them that he penned two stanzas of his own one day on his breaks while at work, then added them to the poem segment. In a nutshell, this is how we came to have the Hymn we know today as The Love Of God.   What beautiful imagery this song holds! I hope it blesses you as much as it has me.
Have a good night friends ~Jen

How He loves us

I'm in sort of a reflective mood today. Just thinking about the things God's been bringing us through and the things that we're learning along the way...About some of the 'pruning' He has had to do on us which brought pain for a season, but is beginning to yield good fruit in our lives...Just thinking about His patience with His children and how good He is.

"He is jealous for me
Loves like a hurricain, I am the tree
Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy
When all of the sudden
I am unaware of these afflictions
Eclipsed by glory
And realize just how beautiful you are
And how great are your affections for me
Oh, how He loves us so
Oh, how He loves us
How He loves us so"
(You can scroll down to the playlist music box on the right to stop the music so you can hear the video.)