Embarrassment

Written by: Gari

The other day I was sitting at a baseball game watching the fans around me (Don’t tell my husband that I wasn’t watching the game!)  I couldn’t help but notice a young couple that was obviously on their first date.  They were performing for each other; telling jokes, laughing, nudging each other’s arms in a playful game of hopeful bliss.  Everything seemed to be going fine until the pretty girl took a bite of her hot dog and it sprayed ketchup and mustard into her eyes! The more she rubbed them the more she looked like a clown ready for a circus. 

            She was so embarrassed that she finally took a heap of napkins and ran for the ladies’ room.  When she came back to her seat she was a little less playful.  Actually, she was a bit shy—and I got the sense that embarrassment got the best of her.  It has a way of doing that.

            My guess is that embarrassment has robbed us all of some finer moments.  I know I’ve had my share of knee-slappers when it comes to looking stupid, but what really shakes me up is spiritual embarrassment.  Deeper and more cutting than physical embarrassment, spiritual embarrassment has the power to snatch me away from God’s glory.  It dresses itself to look cute, but underneath the attractive exterior it’s nothing but a bogus counterfeit to authentic belief. Let’s peek into embarrassment’s closet and see if we’re wearing any of its latest designs.

·       When God doesn’t deliver the answers we hoped for after praying publicly with our requests; we’re embarrassed we made ourselves so vulnerable. 

·       When God moves or engages people in ways we don’t understand, we feel like we need to defend His reputation—or worse, distance ourselves from Him so we won’t be associated with questions we don’t have answers for.

·       Filled with confidence in most areas of life, when it comes to talking about Jesus we clam up, embarrassed that we may step on some pedicured toes.

·       Going to church is great, but when asked to lead or volunteer in ways that place us outside our sphere of security, the answer is always an immediate “no thanks.”

Unfortunately, I’ve worn some of the clothes from this closet—and I'm embarrassed to say--they're not so pretty. 

Always a lover of drama, the Apostle Peter is a man after my own heart.  If there’s action, he wants in on it.  Yet, as bold and in love with Jesus as he was, one of his toughest opponents was spiritual embarrassment. 

            Peter, like every other faithful Jew, had been waiting for a Messiah; for someone that would sweep away the political landscape and overturn the Roman government’s power and abuse.  He knew He had found this Messiah in Jesus, but towards the end of Jesus’ life, the political coup wasn’t playing out like Peter thought.  When Jesus began talking about suffering, and eventually being murdered; Peter pulled Jesus aside to let Him know this kind of talk was a little embarrassing to the cause. 

"From that time Jesus Christ began to show His disciples that He must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and raised up on the third day.  And Peter took Him aside and began to rebuke Him saying, 'God forbid it, Lord!  This shall never happen to you.' "  (Matthew 16: 21-22)

I can just picture Peter taking Jesus aside to rebuke Him.  Oh... the patience of Jesus is astounding!  What came over Peter to make him think he could tell Jesus how His life should play out? Simply put...embarrassment.  He had traveled with Jesus, served with Jesus, and had big plans for Jesus.  I wonder if Peter could have avoided his famous denial if he hadn't been so embarrassed by the events God choose to make His son a King.   

That's the rub...God chooses how He wants our lives to play out, and if we bravely keep from being embarrassed by the way it looks; we're on our way to glory.  Kids misbehaving, marriages that struggle, habits we need help overcoming, prodigals that leave God after years in a youth group, downsizing, capsizing, overturning...may cause an initial blush of confusion; but if we boldly look to God rather than circumstances to define our lives--we'll never have to bow our heads in embarrassed shame.

Blessings!

Gari

Anticipation

Written by: Jessica Russo

There has been an underlying solemn mood in my 8-year old son (Bryce) the past week and I could not pinpoint the problem until last night it hit me: Anticipation. His little mind is stirring with anticipation of the quickly approaching first day of school. The strange thing about it is he is excited to see his friends again but the negative thoughts of schoolwork, embarrassment, and overall struggle of last year is far outweighing any positive anticipation.

The term anticipation is defined as: 1. The act of anticipating. 2. An expectation. 3. Foreknowledge, intuition, and presentiment. I have always thought of the word as having a positive connotation. The bible uses it as a positive outlook of hope and excitement. Revelation 16:15 promises a blessing for those who are watching for the Lord with anticipation: "Behold, I am coming as a thief. Blessed is he who watches."

On the flip side of the word there can also be a negative anticipation. I remember as I studied for my Real Estate Broker exam, the more I prepared and anticipated the test the more nervous I became. Although I knew I was fully prepared for what awaited me I was still consumed with fear.

As for my little man starting school, his anticipation has led to worry, worry to fear, and fear to self-doubt. This is the form of anticipation that can sneak in and overwhelm you before you even realize it. The bible speaks against this negative anticipation in Matthew 6:34: “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."

As I researched a bit on this topic I came across a quote that I love:

If pleasures are greatest in anticipation, just remember that this is also true of trouble.
-Elbert Hubbard

So true! When planning a vacation or trip of some kind our mind can get an exaggerated excitement in anticipation for that event, that the event itself could never live up to our expectation, and leaves us disappointed every time.

Also, when we are negatively anticipating a test or performance of some kind our mind will develop an exaggerated worry or fear for that event that could leave us feeling foolish for ever worrying about it in the first place.

The lesson I have learned through this is that we are not to anticipate the things of this world. We are only to anticipate the return of our Lord and his promises and blessings revealed to us. These are the thoughts, plans, and hopes that will sustain our peace and happiness on this earth.

John 14:27 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.

As the children begin making preparations for school in a few weeks I pray for their Strength to face adversity, Courage to defend righteousness, Confidence to believe in themselves, Motivation to develop their minds, a Servants Heart toward others, and a perfect peace only our Heavenly Father can provide.

May we anticipate things not of this world but of Him, His plan, His promises, His blessings, and His peace.

Blessings,
Jessica

I can only imagine...

The other night Bobby and I had the privilege of opening up for the band Mercy Me.  We shared our testimony along with a pitcher from the Astros and his wife Rachel.  This picture was taken with the band, standing in the midst of sunflower seeds and spit in the Astros dug out!  I was so honored to serve alongside this band because they happen to be the authors of my all-time favorite song; I Can Only Imagine. 

 I don't know what it is about this song, but every time I hear it I come undone. As they sang to this  huge crowd gathered at the ballpark we were all on our feet; eyes closed, tears streaming down our cheeks, arms raised to heaven as if we could touch its glory through the words we were echoing.  I looked at Bobby, our daughter Ally, and my sweet friend Ronda when the last notes of the song came to an end, and we couldn't speak.  There are moments when only tears express the emotion of the heart, and this was one of them. 

This song is so anointed that it seems to breathe hope at funerals, Sunday gatherings, and youth rallies as it speaks to the first moments we will see Jesus face to face in heaven.  Does anyone dare sing about that?  Do we even try to imagine that scene?  Although I've been told about heaven since I was small, it's still so mysterious and unknown-- yet when Mercy Me describes it; it's strangely comforting. 

I can only imagine, what it will be like--when I walk, by your side.
I can only imagine, what my eyes will see--when Your face is before me.
Surrounded by your glory, what will my heart feel? Will I dance for you Jesus, or in awe of You be still? 
Will I stand in your presence, or to my knees will I fall, will I sing Hallelujah...will I be able to speak at all?  I can only imagine...I can only imagine...

When I was a young believer I remember bragging to someone that when I saw Jesus in heaven I would high-five Him and say "My BFF, Jesus, You're the man!"  This mature lover of God humbly replied "It might be hard to high-five if you're flat on your face before Him."  That was the first time I remember feeling completely undone by the thought of seeing Jesus face to face.  I can only imagine...

Last week I was in a recording studio for two days as we recorded the audio version of my book Spirit Hunger.  Something weird happened to me as I came to certain part of the book, a book that I'm obviously acquainted with.  When I began to read a section that described my father, I had to stop the recording and gather myself as tears fell like rainfall against the pavement.  I was describing the state of his limp legs after living for 38 years as a paralyzed man.  I hadn't seen his legs undressed until a few days before his death.  They were covered in sores, oozing puss, and mere bones with a thin strip of skin around them.  I practically gasped when the nurse pulled back his sheets to shift his position in the bed.  Ever since his car accident when I was young I felt distanced from my dad.  He went into a protective shell to somehow survive his new life; once a bank president, now a quadriplegic.  Strangely, I've felt more drawn to my dad since his death than I did during his life. I don't remember ever crying over him when I was in my late teens or young adulthood, and now, every time I talk about him I cry.  I think the words Mercy Me captured in their song are the reason why.

When I picture heaven one of the scenes I relish most is seeing my dad dance before Jesus on legs that were once twisted, pussing, and useless.  That thought alone makes me bow in reverence to the one I call Lord.  But then I picture another scene.  I see me dancing with my dad and Jesus.  A holy concert of grace and abandon as we turn and glide with Jesus leading the dance.  A former disco dance teacher, I like to get everyone in a line and turn out steps in unison, but Jesus does it differently.  He likes to dance uniquely with each dance partner He holds. 

I have no idea what heaven will be like, but I do know this, it will be greater and wilder than anything we can conjure.  Sometimes I'm shocked by how tightly we hold onto life here...forgetting that a greater dance floor awaits us in heaven.
I can only imagine....I can only imagine...

Blessings!
Gari



The words to this verse showered me

Echoing Fear

Written by: Jessica Russo
Co-blogger for Truly Fed Ministries
 

Fear has plagued me over these past few weeks. Numbing me like the feeling of a cool wind sweeping over newly shaven skin. I see the blessings and joy in my life, I know they are there but I could not feel their entirety. When internal factors are weighing on my ability to fully embrace life I have to search out those numbing elements, take an aggressive hold on them, and drag them out of me.

There are two types of fear that usually affect me. The first being a general concern for safety of my family or loved ones. For example, if a child is doing something unsafe and I am fearful they may get hurt. I call this momentary fear. Once the action is corrected the fear is gone. This is an instinctive healthy fear that everyone experiences.

The second type is the anxiety, worry, or fear of future events or outcomes that I/we have no control over. I call this echoing fear. At times you don’t even know where the fear comes from it just keeps reverberating in your head while silently consuming you in its paralyzing fog. The Bible tells us this fear is not from God.

2 Timothy 1:7
For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

Echoing fear set in a little over a week ago when I woke up unable to walk. My struggle with back pain began as a teenager when I injured my lower spine in a car wreck. As time went by I would have occasional flare-ups but they were mostly manageable then they would pass. Last week was in no way manageable. Pain was shooting from my lower back down my right leg. Immediately my mind goes to my work-outs; “Will I be able to maintain my work-outs,” “Will I be limited to walking for the rest of my life?”

Now ladies (and gents) let me tell you; I like my crazy work-outs. Running obstacle courses, lifting weights, running through mud, sand, water, you name it. The more intense they are the better. I live and breathe this wildness. So the thought of never being able to do it again sent me in an automatic tailspin of worry, anger, fear, and sadness.

I would try to push myself to walk, bend over, or move in any way. The pain reigned supreme over my stubbornness so, with two kids tagging along, I went to the emergency room. Leaving the ER I had gained a variety of medication prescriptions and two specialists referrals but no answer or treatment. Returning to my bed I sat in my own self-pity for about an hour before I used a lifeline and phoned a friend. As exceptional friends often do, she knew exactly what to say.

As soon as I hung up the phone I began to speak aloud “This fear is not part of me.” “This fear is the devil and I will not allow it to consume me.”

Echoing fear is not from God but from Satan. Send it back into darkness where it belongs. No matter what is darkening your mind with worry, anxiety, doubt or fear, cast it back where it came from and look to God for your joy, your direction, and your peace.

Psalm 34:4
“I sought the LORD, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears”

My medical update is ongoing but promising. As for other fears that plague me I have written them down in a list. Each day I denounce one of them and pray for sound mind regarding that fear. Then I mark it off and do my best to never revisit it again. There are fears on my list such as health, my child’s education, food/weight issues, and personal failure. You may share some of these fears and/or have others of your own.

We all have echoing fears. It is a strong tool of Satan’s and he loves to use it. God has given all of us a spirit of power and peace over any other forces that Satan can use. I don’t know about you but that alone allows me the authority to consciously defend and protect myself from the darkness of doubt, worry, or echoing fear.

Blessings,
Jessica

Be Brave...

Of all the most beloved scriptures in the bible, none is more recognized than the first line of the 23^rd

Psalm.  “The Lord is my Shepard, I shall not want.”  This line has been uttered from fox holes in

bloody war battles, from ambulance stretchers, from jail cells, from school buildings, from lonely

beds, and hands holding empty checkbooks.  I love this line of scripture, but further in this Psalm is

a line that hovers over fear.  It taunts, and dares fear to rear its head.

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.”(vs. 5)

I used to think enemies were political fights between countries, but now I realize it’s more personal.  We face enemies each moment we breathe.  The noise we hear in our head that tells us we can’t change; we won’t grow; we will fail.  The thieving stabs Satan thrashes to bloody our families, relationships, dreams, and health.  The lost hope of addiction, procrastination, abuse, and dull neglect.  These are enemies of the worst kind.  Enemies that torture with a low grade temperature that spirals to heat rash. 

The power of this verse lies in the fact that God Himself leads us to a dressed table.  He pulls out the seat and places an embroidered napkin into our laps as He pushes the chair in.  He lights exquisite candles that cast a mellow glow over the table as the polished silver begs to be placed between our fingers.  A plate sits before us, clean and unsoiled, like the spirit within us refreshed by the cross. 

Calm and sure, God sets this table while the screams of our enemies blare. Smack in the heat of the hiss and snarl; right in the center of the terror; He sets a table for us.  He isn’t shaken.  He’s the essence of peace. 

One of the first times I shared this concept I had about 165 ladies stand up and walk to the back of the room where I was teaching.  I asked for a volunteer that I gently led to a seat at a table while everyone circled around.  The table was draped with a soft green cloth and etched glass candlesticks.   Strings of clear beads sparkled like jewels in a crown as I silently lit the candles and placed the cloth napkin in her lap.  As we looked at the beauty of the table, I reminded the ladies that this is what God beckons us to. We joined hands and bowed our heads together to soak up that moment and pray.  As women began to pray I could hear the soft rain of tears.  Our prayers began as hushed praises, and grew to bold pronouncements of God’s goodness.  One woman prayed for her wayward daughter while another moaned over the loss of a son.  Another woman shouted that she would no longer fear the co-workers that spoke poorly of her, while another broke into a verse of Amazing Grace that we sang sweetly together.  All of a sudden I realized that there were not only gentle tears being shed, but heaving sobs.  It was as if the Holy Spirit washed over that scene with a cloth so authentic it couldn’t be mistaken for anything but glory. 

In the week that followed I received dozens of comments: “I’ve never felt the Lord like that!”  “His presence was oozing from the walls.”  “What a time of healing and grace.” Proof that even though our enemies are in the midst, they aren’t invited to sit at the table.  God’s reserved that spot for you. 

I once heard Dr. Larry Crabb say that though we are invited to sup with the King, we often crawl under the banquet table and beg for crumbs like dogs.   Not in this scene.  We are seated at the table and God is our waiter.  He’s died to serve us.

Why does this demand bravery?  Isn’t God the brave one to set our table in the midst of enemies?  What’s brave about simply sitting down?

 Bravery sits with valor.  Though our hands and feet feel like running , we sit at the table, posture straight, and let God prepare.  We aren’t setting the table ourselves, we aren’t crawling around under it, and we aren’t cowering in another room.  We gallantly rest in the chair and let God prepare the table we are meant to dine at. 

Won't you dine with me sweet friends?

Blessings!

Gari

(This is an exerpt from my upcoming book Spirit Hunger released in early October)

Flower

Written by: Jessica Russo

Co-blogger for Truly Fed Ministries
Arriving back from vacation and I didn’t waste any time getting into the swing of things. It is VBS week at Second Baptist Church in Houston, TX and what an exciting time it is. Last year I assisted in a third grade classroom but this year the coordinators assigned me a teacher role in Kindergarten. I must admit I was not jumping for joy with this assignment because this is probably my least favorite age group but I figured God was trying to teach me something so I entered the classroom with a joyful heart ready to see what God had in store for all of us this week.

As the children filed in the room and chaos ensued, a little girl was hesitant to leave her mom and join our class. She was silent when I asked her name and just shook her head no. “Would you like to be called something else?” I asked, “I will call you whatever you want.” She looked up almost in tears and whispered “Flower.” We wrote Flower on her nametag and she reluctantly walked over and sat at our class table.

Our Bible lesson the first day was on Gideon and how God wants to use all of us. When we got back to the classroom we reviewed the lesson and I asked questions. When it was Flower’s turn for a question I asked her how God could use her and she replied “God talks to me.” This was a strange answer so I asked another question for clarity “How does God talk to you?” I asked. She pointed around the room at each teacher and said “Through her, and her, and her.”

Now ladies let me tell you that was a defining moment for me in that classroom. My role there was not to herd these little chickens from room to room and feed them a snack once a day; my job was to show them Jesus through me. They were looking for it, expecting it, and fully deserving of it.

When Flower proclaimed that God speaks to her through the older generations it provoked a new train of thought for me. 2 Timothy 3:16-17 tells us that God speaks to us through scripture and Romans 12:2 tells us God speaks to us through our thoughts and impressions. A child that cannot read and has not developed mature thought processing must totally rely on their elders to guide, guard, and direct them spiritually. That’s not a task to be taken lightly for me.

Proverbs 22:6 Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.

This has me questioning if God is speaking through me to my children and are there times the devil speaks through me. All the times I think ‘do as I say, not as I do’ is this evil speaking through me? Am I imitating the Lord in all that I say and do to the extent that He is speaking through me? What are my own children seeing in me? It is amazing that I have spent my entire life studying God’s word and growing as a Christian and a five-year-old can plant something so deep in my heart that it completely changes my awareness.

God planted little Flower in my classroom to teach me each child needs that ray of light He shines through us and each child needs living water that flows from the heart of believers. With this, all His little flowers can grow, bloom, and spread the beauty of God.

Matthew 5:16
Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.

Blessings,
Jessica

Bread Please?

I've just returned from a breathtaking trip to Uganda.  Although I've been there before, I still came home in a bewildered state.  I was bewildered by how I so easily forget that 99% of the world doesn't live like I do.  I was bewildered when I looked at buffets, clean clothes, and toilets that flush.  But quickly my bewildered rag of emotion turned to a smooth linen of joy.  Something in me began to well up as I reflected on the days I spent traversing the remotest parts of the earth.  Every ounce of comfort; every scrap of routine or predictability was yanked from my control loving mind.  We were on a quest to the core of humanity.  The place where the God of heaven meets the desperate on Earth. 

The trip started out a bit rough as my team arrived at Bush International Airport in Houston.  As we quickly unloaded our luggage my heart sank as I realized my backpack, (stocked with my passport and money) was accidentally left on the front porch of my home 45 minutes away.  With 3 members of our team crying, I sent them off, assuring them I would join them the next day.  It takes 2 days to get to Uganda, so I would miss our first day at the orphanage--but I was encouraged that I wouldn't miss any of the time I was expected to speak at The Miracle Crusade.  I boasted to our team "If this is the worst Satan can heap on us...Bring it!"  Oh my...was I in for a wild ride...

The delay proved to be a blessing as I spent the better part of the next 48 hours ingesting the Bible. I was ready.  Prepared. Expectant.  Our plan was to spend the first 3 days of the trip at Musana orphanage.  I was going to speak at their church on Sunday, and lead a Bible study that night for the adults that work there.  When I woke that morning I was in a hurry to get ready.  I noticed some marks on my face, but it wasn't until late afternoon that I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror.  I was bitten by a spider 21 times on my face during the night.  I looked like someone took a bright red marker and drew all over my face.  I hate spiders! And the thought of one marching across my face about made me sick.  Somehow I knew I was living out my challenge to Satan.  "Bring it!" was now starting to hurt a bit...

Our next stop was to travel to a remote village where the crusade was being held.  When I say remote, I mean off the maps, dirt road, traveling for hours in the dark to a place we aren't even sure exists.  I kept encouraging the team "Faith not fear..." as we finally stepped out of our dusty van.  We crawled to our beds knowing that the conference began in the morning, but as I lay in bed that night I started to feel the familiar greeting of an unwelcome intruder.  Violent diarrhea and stomach pain kept me awake all night as I ran to the toilet every 15 minutes.  As dawn approached I knew I had to make a decision.  If I had been at home, I probably would have been in Urgent Care I was so dehydrated, but I decided to trust God to somehow get me through the day. 

We pulled up to an old railway grounds where the conference was taking place.  Hundreds and hundreds of people were gathered; some sitting ,some standing, and some trying to get a glimpse from afar. Faces like caramel smiled with yellowed teeth, they hugged us and welcomed us to their village.   I taught from the Bible 3 times that day, and at one point needed to be held up by one of the women on our team. I was so weak--but I knew we were part of the canvas that God was painting over that place for a few magical days. 

Every time we would get to a part of the bible where God had a victory the people would wildly shout "Amen! Amen!" They danced to the music and jumped in praise.  Young kids were perched on a mountainside that sat next to the stage, families seemed to pop out of the cornfields in the distance.  I wondered if this was how Jesus felt when he preached to the multitudes. 

At times I questioned how I would communicate to these gorgeous people.  With so many different languages being spoke between them, I wondered if they understood me at all.  And then God imparted a message to me.  He simply said "power is perfected in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12)  I realized that it made no difference whether they understood my language.  It didn't matter that I come from such different life-experiences.  What matters is that we all need the bread of life, and He was feeding us all in ways we'd never capture with words. 

The picture I placed at the top of this blog was taken on the streets of Jinga in Uganda.  A pack of about 7 young boys, obviously homeless and hungry, were making their way down a busy street.  I watched as people ignored them or looked at them with skeptic mistrust.  When they came to me they started with a "tourist" act to make me feel bad for them.  They didn't have to because I already felt bad for them.  I simply asked "What do you need?"  One of the older boys whispered "We need bread."
I gave them enough money to buy several loaves, but wanted to make sure that's what they were buying, so I followed them to a small market.  You've never seen such elation over loaves of bread.  They jumped, they hugged, and they embraced me with sweet thanks.  I shook my head in humility as I uttered to the Lord "Isn't that what we all need?  The bread of life?  Aren't we all in need of it?" 

I learned more lessons in Africa than I taught. 
I'm desperate for His bread, and will never forget the "Amens!"  of my African friends who are desperate right along with me.

Blessings!
Gari

God's Art Gallery

Written by: Jessica Russo

Co-blogger for Truly Fed Ministries

This week I am writing you from the base of a California redwood tree the size of my first apartment. Lying against this tree with my bare feet sharing its soil, I feel like a tiny spec in such an enormous creation. We are on day 27 of our journey. The boys have grown comfortable in the wild as I knew they would. What they once feared, they now embrace. What once felt like solitude, now feels connected. What once seemed dangerous, now has become our refuge. 

We have crossed paths with grizzly bears, seen wild swans, listened to birds in the rainforest screeching so loud we held our ears. 

There is something in my spirit that needed to leave everything man-made and take my boys on a journey they will not soon forget. I am not sure what I was seeking but I am positive I found it. 

Job 12:7-9 - But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds of the air, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish of the sea inform you.  Which of all these does not know that the hand of the LORD has done this?

Although I see God working in people everyday it is much different to find Him working in all of His creation. I feel like we have been on a tour of one tiny wing of His enormous art gallery. This is where we found him working:

In the sunflower fields of Texas where the flowers never take their eyes off of the light He provides them. 

In the eagle soaring over the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado carrying a twig for sping upgrades to the nest. 

In the canyons of New Mexico that are so red the sunlight bouncing off seem to set them on fire. 

In the winds whipping fiercely across the Wyoming rangeland as the prairie dogs scurry underground for safety. 

In the skies of Montana that reach farther than the eye can see or the soul can grasp. 

In the glacier lakes of Alberta, Canada that are the most brilliant hue of turquoise that they look artificial. 

In the waterfalls in British Columbia that burst right out of the side of the mountains and seem to fall for miles. 

In the mossy trees and 5 foot ferns of the Washington rainforests that feel like you have stepped into a nursery ryme storybook. 

In the waves crashing against giant rocks jetting out of the pacific ocean on the Oregon coast. 

In the redwood that I am sitting under right now. Yes, God is working here too. 

Every climate, every animal, and every plant works in a cyclical dance carefully created and orchestrated by Him. 

It is more than we can comprehend. We were not created to fully comprehend it. What we can do is give him all glory and praise saying "My God How Great Thou Art." 

Blessings,
Jessica

Surprises!

It takes a lot to shock me.  I rarely feel the need to gasp and shake my head in disbelief.  But something happened a few days ago that literally took my breath away. 

It was Father's Day, and Bobby and I were both going a million directions.  Traveling, working, writing, baseball...a wonderful puzzle we gratefully try to put together each day.  Bobby got home from a road trip late in the evening, and we decided to head over to our daughter Ally's house so Bobby could give our grand baby Reese a big hug before she went to bed. 

Our son Colton came with us, and even though he seemed a bit jumpy I didn't pay much attention.  We were smothered with hugs and wet kisses from Reese, and after about 20 minutes we started to say our goodbyes since it was late.  Ally strangely asked if Bobby could take a look at one of their landscaping lights that supposedly wasn't working, and could only be seen in the dark.  So with Reese in my arms, the whole family headed to the driveway to check out the problem. 
I was looking at all the pretty lights on the yard when suddenly something flashed in front of me. The headlights of a big black truck with a red bow on the hood! 

I started screaming "What?" "What?"  I couldn't get another word out.  All I could say was "What!"
Bobby's face in that moment was priceless.  Each wrinkle in his smile reflected a 30 year longing for a truck.  Since the first week we were married he's talked about buying one, but life's unexpected demands and needs have always stood in the way.  On this night, three decades of desire turned into reality for a man that typically places priority on everyone else's wants, not his own. 

It was a rare moment of surprise. A delight that swells in your spirit like fireflies let loose from a jar.  You try to grab hold of them, but they swirl around you, lighting up a dark sky with a spark of abandoned pleasure.  Even if you tried to put that delight back in a jar, it couldn't contain it.

This wonderful gift has me wondering something about God.  What surprises Him about us?  Are there moments when He is so excited about us that His smile rips a hole right through heaven? 
I've pondered this for the past few days, and one scene keeps coming to mind. 
Remember when Jesus sent the disciples away in a boat after a long day of helping people?  Jesus stayed back to send the crowd off and spend some much needed time alone with His Father in prayer; while the disciples pushed out into the depths of the Sea of Galilee. The water got rough as a storm tossed the boat around; sometimes yielding waves as high as 10 feet high towering over their small wooden fishing boat.  Somewhere between 3:00-6:00 am Jesus began to walk towards the shaken boat--on top of the water!  The disciples had been tossed around for upwards of nine hours and probably thought they were losing their minds when they saw Him sauntering over the waves...but here's where the surprise comes in. Peter shouts out to Jesus "Lord, if it's really you, tell me to come to you on the water." 

In that moment I believe Jesus was surprised.
Complete trust.  Sheer abandon.  Delight that sang from the whistle of the wind and the waves undertow.
"Come on!" He shouted back.  And Peter put his feet in the water. 

So often people focus on the fact that Peter doubted once he was on the water, but I believe that view completely misses the point.  He surprised Jesus with his guts.  He wanted to be brave for Jesus in a display of confidence in the man he called Savior... I think that's the point.

So the last few days as I drive around in Bobby's truck, I keep whispering to the Lord, "I want to surprise You.  I want You to smile as I bravely come to You regardless of my fear or circumstance."

As long as I live I'll never forget the look on Bobby's face as he realized this surprise was meant for him.  He hasn't stopped smiling!  I want to give God the gift of surprise, and even though it may not have a big red bow on it, it will be wrapped in sweet affection and trust that hopefully brings a smile to heaven.

Blessings!
Gari

Geysers or Mud Pots

Written by: Jessica Russo

Co-blogger for Truly Fed Ministries
 
Over the past week and a half my two boys, my mother, and I have been on the road. With big plans and a not-so-big camper behind us. We started in Houston, TX and I am currently sitting in Glacier National Park (Montana) with my toes 4 inches from a campfire trying to over-compensate for my ill-prepared wardrobe I packed in the 98 degree Houston heat. It's been 13 days of gorgeous landscapes that can only flow from the paintbrush of our awesome God. There are still two and a half weeks left on our trip as we move into Canada tomorrow and head back down along the West Coast. Since we have only just begun I will not go into all the things we have seen and done until my next blog. 

We spent several days at Yellowstone National Park. I was amazed by the landscapes and thermal activity there from geysers to boiling, stinky mud to gorgeous waterfalls. The land was so peaceful and beautiful that you would never know the instability and turmoil going on under the surface. 

A geyser will sit silent building up pressure until it erupts and spews water over everything in range of it. We decided this represented me very well. I stay calm and silent until I can't stand it any longer then I spew venom over whoever is in range. I must give myself a little credit I have gotten much better with this but nonetheless this is how I cope with things. 

A mud pot is a constant release of gas that appears to make the hot mud boil as it comes to the surface. We decided this was my husband Chip. Not because of the gas aspect but just the fact that he deals with and releases issues as they arise. Pressure does not buildup so there is no large display or release. It is a constant, much more moderate way to approach issues. 

A wild fire is a common occurrence in yellowstone in fact the pine tree that grows there is dependent on the wild fires to re-seed. The tree Produces a pine cone that only a fire can penetrate but once it is burned it will break open and re-seed. So not only are the wild fires common, they are necessary for new growth. We decided the wild fire was our oldest son. His fire burns voraciously only controlled by the winds of his anxieties. But when it burns out something new has taken growth, something new is learned, and something new is felt. 

A waterfall is body of water that is sent on a path that causes it to change direction, lose control, or take a leap of faith. This is my youngest boy. If his path flowed to that cliff and he knew the only way to get back on track was to follow that fall he would not think twice before he took that leap of faith with wild abandon.  Although at times a slight change of direction might solve the problem more appropriately. 

God created us all to perform and deal in ways unique to us.  He chose many different personalities, complete with their own faults, to be his Disciples.  We are not created perfect rather we are asked to do our best. 

2 Timothy 2:15 Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth.

Whether a Geyser or a mud pot, a wild fire, or a waterfall we were each created differently with our own purpose and our own methods and pathways to fulfill that purpose. I look forward to writing my next blog where I will be able to share with you all the highlights of my trip. 

Blessings,  Jessica

Whatever...

"Dear Friends, God is good.  So I beg you to offer your bodies to Him as a living sacrifice, pure and pleasing.  That's the most sensible way to serve God.  Don't be like the people of this world, but let God change the way you think.  Then you will know how to do everything that is good and pleasing to Him."    (Romans 12: 1-2)

I've been sitting and staring at my lap top for over a half hour.  It's blog day and my mind is going ten directions but not at the speed of light.  More like the speed of laundry drying outside on a muggy day.  The only word that keeps popping into my muggy mind is the word "whatever"...
Not very spiritual sounding at first glance; it actually sounds more like what teenagers say when you tell them to make their beds.  But in God's vocabulary the word whatever is the hallmark of utmost maturity.  Only those that have given their lives over to His holy touch can utter this word with complete abandon. 
Whatever isn't a sign of lazy indifference, it's a sign of release and trust.  When we say whatever to God we are stating "You're in charge--I'm not.  You're the point--I'm not."  What freedom the word whatever brings!

Recently I had a whatever moment that makes me feel a bit shaky as I've watched it play out.  The picture above shows me dancing with orphans at Musana Orphanage in Uganda.  I was there two years ago leading a teacher's in-service on reading comprehension, but in all honesty, saying yes to that trip wasn't easy.  My doctor begged me not go, fearing my immune system wasn't strong enough to handle the immunizations needed to travel there.  To further complicate things, we moved from Colorado to Houston just days before I flew to Africa.  It was a flurry of boxes, sweat, and prayerful whatevers that pushed me onto that plane, resulting in a glorious time of holy release.

Sitting in a cafe overlooking the dusty main road where the orphanage was, I met with a local pastor named Nicholas for lunch .  He knew my background in ministry, and shared something that nearly broke my heart.  He said "Gari, we have thousands of women who would come to hear you speak God's Word.  They are willing, but we have no women teachers to lead them."
I wish I could say I instantly jumped on that opportunity.  It was the end of a long, hard trip and I was tired, broke, and ready to see my family.  I was polite, but wondered if I'd ever see him again.   So here comes my big whatever moment...

This fall I began to pray about Uganda.  Was I supposed to go back?  I was in the middle of my first big book contract, writing my head off, teaching like crazy, and preparing for another year of insane travel with my husband's beloved Houston Astros... but suddenly the word whatever began to circle a the rim of my spirit.  One day I literally said to the Lord "This is the day.  I need you to either close the door or open it, because if I'm going back to Uganda, it needs to be clear." 
A half an hour later I opened my messages on my phone and there sat a message from Pastor Nicholas.  He simply wrote "Have you forgotten your friends in Africa?" 
Nothing like getting your prayers answered so clearly...

So in 14 days I head back to Africa to speak at a conference that has already grown beyond capacity.  As a matter of fact, they've had to change the venue because they know the crowds will be too big.  The local pastor's have met and decided to open the conference to both men and women, and they've named the event the Miracle Crusade.

 I know the real miracle occurs when we simply say whatever--and you don't have to go to Africa for that to happen.  Whenever you choose someone else's needs before your own, you say whatever.  Whenever you choose to trust God instead of settling into panic, you say whatever.  Whenever you dare to hope for good rather than tolerating evil, you say whatever. 

Whatever is what Mary uttered when Gabriel told her she'd birth a Savior.  Whatever is what Moses said when he led a nation out of captivity, and whatever is what Jesus brilliantly uttered from the cross. 

So here's my question to you:  What's your whatever?  I'd love to hear about it sweet friends. Let's keep saying it together; daily, hourly, minute by minute...whatever.  Watch God take your whatevers and turn them into forevers.

Blessings!
Gari

The Threshing Floor

Written by: Jessica Russo

Co-blogger for Truly Fed Ministries
 
Threshing floors were used to separate grain from the chaff at harvest time. The first step was to lay the grain on the threshing floor and drag a spiked board over it which separated the heads of grain from the stalks (Isaiah 41:15-16)

Then the broken stalks were tossed in the air to catch the wind. The husks would be blown away leaving only the good grain to fall back down to the threshing floor.

Six weeks ago our family entered the threshing floor as we began the process of weaning our son off of a medication that helps him with focus, stabilizes mood, and slows his processing. After 2 years on medication I needed to re-evaluate his ability to cope without it. I have come under a lot of scrutiny from other mothers for medicating my child as well as scrutiny from his Doctors for taking him off of it. Both of which I understand but neither of which I will speak to in this blog. With summer approaching we started the process of slowly draining the chemical out of his system. We started with only giving a half dose. The change of chemical sent his brain into a tailspin of emotional and physical outbursts to levels of which we were unprepared.

We were so out of our realm of expertise in dealing with the situation that all we could do was raise him up from the threshing floor and let the breath of God blow through him separating him from the uncontrollable yet unnecessary emotions ailing his body and mind.

After several weeks of separating and parting from the medication, we are now starting to see the wheat pour down like blessings; filling and renewing his spirit.

Our boy is back—clear of mind, sound of heart. Although he’s faster than the speed of light and not always able to slow down and focus, he’s happy, healthy and fascinating in his own right.

With much direction and discernment I write this blog. Not to focus on my son and his challenges, or to tell only his story, but to give you a real life example of an act of cleansing that is bigger than what our earthly bodies are capable of.

Many times I have tried to fix issues or situations that I was never created to fix on my own. I’m sure we can all relate. Some things are bigger than us and need to be taken to the threshing floor for God to separate the good from the bad; the useful from the useless. As we wait on that floor he will rain down that which is good, that which we should gather up and protect for our use (Matthew 3:12.)  

The notion of a threshing floor is used in several places in the bible as a metaphor for judgment. However, it’s a powerful metaphor for cleansing as well. It’s in our moments of surrender, of trust, of release--that God breathes into our lives and cleanses. It’s on my life’s threshing floor that I toss my circumstances like wheat up to God, and watch in wonder as his blessings pour down over me.

Blessings,
Jessica

Screeches and Squeals

I love my red jeep.  It's old and beat up, but I still love it.  For the last few months it's been making a sound that's progressively getting worse.  I took it to the garage last week where I was confidently told there was nothing wrong with it, but I beg to differ.  The other night I drove into the parking garage under the baseball stadium to have it parked, and the look on the man's face as I handed him the keys said it all.  I know he wanted to ask me "Lady, why are you driving such a beat up car?"  Truthfully, my car sounds like the wheels are going to come off and roll down the highway in front of me.  I just smiled and said "Park it somewhere safe" with a sly grin that he knew was sarcasm begging to dance with reason. 

At first I was embarrassed to drive the car, wondering what people thought as I pulled up to a light with screeches and squeals singing like a rock band.  Then I went into "fix it" mode, trying to figure out what was wrong.  And finally I've settled into an acceptance of a car with a lot of mileage starting to show its age.  I still love my jeep, I'm just learning to accept that it doesn't drive or sound like it used to...and that's OK.

Those of you that know me know that I've struggled for many years with two debilitating autoimmune diseases.  I've seen every kind of doctor you can imagine, tried countless medicines and remedies, and experienced seasons of relative improvement as well as seasons of great physical pain.  Yesterday I visited a massage therapist for some hopeful relief from a few weeks of chronic aches and muscle fatigue. As she was stroking my body she whispered in a concerned voice "You have bruises all over your body."  I could only account for one bruise on my leg (I was hit by a fowl ball during our game against the Texas Rangers...that's a bruise you can't forget!)  She explained that sometimes when the body is experiencing trauma inside, it bruises on the outside.

Physical pain is something I've trained myself to master.  I've taught myself to deal with it much like a mailman that delivers packages.  I put the pain in a box and say to it "You need to sit over there till I'm done with my day."  When I was first diagnosed with a pain disease I took the pain out of the box and played with it all day.  It was my constant companion, and the one I had most of my conversations with.  I got sick of paying it so much attention, so I started putting it in a mental box; not allowing it any play time.  I prayed for healing, I prayed for comfort; and although I believe  God can take it away from my body in an instant, I've learned to live out the meaning of one of the most compelling scriptures I know...  "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness."   (1 Corinthians 12: 9)

We will never know strength if we don't first know weakness.  We will never know power if we don't understand defeat.  At times I feel like my body is the little engine that could.  Always chugging up a mountain, trying to huff and puff to the top so it can coast down the other side chanting "I think I can, I think I can!"  Wouldn't you know I married a man with the immune system of steel.  I can hardly count the times he's had a cold in 30 years, and here I am "I think I can, I think I can," hoping that this precious body I call home can carry me through all the things I want to do. 

Weakness begs for power to swoop in and help it.  To answer the questions we don't understand, and to strengthen us to live fully in the midst of things we'd never choose, but learn to accept.  So, like my jeep, I may squeak and rattle a bit on the inside, but I still plan to live boldly on the outside.  Even when people look at me like "Lady, why don't you trade that mess in for a newer version or better model?" I know that His grace is perfected in weakness, and that's enough for me.

Blessings!
Gari

God’s Little Fingerprints

Written by: Jessica Russo

Co-blogger for Truly Fed Ministries
 
Over the past three years I have been tested tremendously as a parent. Working through feelings of stress and sadness thinking I was failing miserably at the most important job of my life. I thought there was no way my children would grow up to be normal, average adults.

Over time, with continuous prayer and unlimited support from my mother and mother-in-law, I have now decided my children will certainly not grow up to be normal average adults. They will be innovative, extraordinary adults. There is a gradual switch happening in my life now from raising them in my mind—with my thoughts, and my ideas—to forming them within their minds, acknowledging and validating their thoughts, and challenging and building on their ideas. They are not to be the children I created in my image; they are the children God created in his own (his little fingerprints.) I am here to guide, guard, and direct them back to Him—using all the character, talents, and challenges He gave them.

As a parent I am not called to raise my children to be like me,
Rather, I am called to raise them to be individuals they were created to be;
Not to follow a specific parenting guide,
But to approach my child in the most appropriate and effective way for them;
Not to judge their wrongs,
But to encourage their rights;
Not to limit their successes by labeling their weaknesses,
But to find their strengths and build on them;
Not to shame inappropriate behavior,
But to guide them to better choices;
Not to blame them for family dynamics,
But to work through family issues together;
Not to expect perfection,
But to acknowledge my own imperfections and show my continual strives to improve;
Not to buy toys and devices to entertain them,
But to play dolls and power rangers along with them;
Not to play God over their life,
But to teach God in their life;
Not to carry, Not to push,
But to walk alongside and help them keep their footing.

My oldest son (8 years old) has his share of battles to fight and challenges to overcome but he is a child of God…fearfully and wonderfully made. As you can probably tell from the blog this week we are currently walking through a bit of a storm with him right now. When storms arise in his life I sometimes feel like I am the one drowning while he is still swimming and trying to pull me to shore. Then the guilt sets in that I was not the mother he needed in his rough times. Yes, we have all been there. 

If you have children or grandchildren that struggle with learning disabilities, physical handicaps, self-image, or even just being misunderstood; take heart. God has placed each bump in their path for a reason and we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)

Let us love these children with all that is in us no matter the circumstance. After all, they are all little fingerprints of God.

Blessings,

Jessica

In the meantime...

Last weekend we had the joy of attending our son Colton's college graduation. It was joyous for a few reasons. First, he's entering a new phase of life. He's now a man not a college student. Responsible... not cared for (or should I say paid for). Second, he graduated...need I say more?

Although we celebrated his many accomplishments over the past four years, the pictures above truly capture the feel of this new timeframe. The first shows the smiles and romantic notion of a life free from assignments and classwork. The second shows the panic of a timeframe that has yet to be defined.

I've often said "Change is good, it's the transitions that stink!" Change is a given. It's the natural ebb and flow of life. Jobs change, relationships change, homes change, circumstances change; and although we know that change is inevitable, the transitional time that it takes to settle into it is what unnerves us. It's uncomfortable, unpredictable, and sometimes lonely.

I remember when I transferred from Colorado State University to San Diego State my Junior year. I was sick and tired of going to class in snow covered hiking boots and a ski cap, so I explored options that led me to a warmer climate. I didn't care one lick if San Diego had a program for my current major, all I cared about was placing myself in the middle of the brochure pictures that promised days at the beach and a constant flow of sunshine.

When I stepped off the plane in the San Diego airport it dawned on me that I had no more than my apartment complex name written on a scrap of paper in my purse. This was before cell phones, internet, and google; so I climbed into a phonebooth near baggage claim and nervously thumbed through the yellow pages to find my apartment's address. Suitcases and trunks in tow, my cab driver pulled up to the less than lovely apartment complex and promptly dumped all my luggage on a curb as he drove off with the last of my cash.

As I lugged my belongings up three flights of stairs I opened the door to my first apartment. It was then that I realized I would sit in it alone for three days--no electricity, no phone, and no car--until my roommates joined me from their summer residences. I knew this change was going to be good for me, but what I didn't realize was how hard the transition would be.

Maybe you've heard the saying "in the meantime" when referring to the time between one segment of life and the next. I've come to realize that those timeframes can truly be "mean" times, as we struggle to settle into a new direction or phase of our lives. Moving to a new place, starting a new job, entering a new relationship,ending an old one that's run its course, joining a new church, trying something you've longed to do but haven't been able to make happen...all require a transition through the "mean" time to get to the needed change.

  Moses fled Eygpt after he murdered an Eygptian. He lived in the meantime of hills and sheep until he was ready to lead a nation in exodus from the very home he grew up in. The Apostle Paul spent years of ministry in the meantime of prison. If he hadn't been behind bars, much of our New Testament wouldn't have been written. And the Apostle Peter fished in the meantime before he preached.

It takes a brave soul to push through the uncertainity of the meantime, into the confidence of a "new" time. Don't let where you are or what you see now, determine where you'll go or who you'll be in the future. Push through your meantimes. Lay your hopes, dreams, and ambition down before God, and let Him breathe life into them. With God there's no such thing as meantime; only opportune time...and He will show you the difference.

Blessings! Gari

Not a Catalina Cowgirl

Written by: Jessica Russo

Co-blogger for Truly Fed Ministries
When I was young traveling the rodeo circuit I just knew I wanted to grow up to be a Catalina Cowgirl from Bryan, TX. Watching them parade out in their glitzy vests mounted on beautiful paint horses was my favorite part of the Houston rodeo. The plan was set for me to one day be in that pack, riding through the arena with my hair blowing back and carrying an American flag that blasted fireworks out of the top. Yep, that was definitely my future.

As time passed I moved off to college, met my wonderful husband Chip, and my life changed from dust on my boots to concrete under my pumps. Thinking back there were so many things I had anticipated for my future; so many expectations I was determined to meet. As a young adolescent I would have never thought I would be where I am now, and that I would have the experiences I’ve had thus far. Although I have learned that each experience teaches and prepares me for what is ahead, sometimes I still catch myself wondering why God has placed me certain situations or guided me down certain paths.

Proverbs 3:5-6

Trust in the LORD with all your heart, And do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He will make your paths straight.

While thinking about God’s plan and how it unfolds with or without our understanding or consent I thought of three instances that most of us can relate to:

1.     Scolding your child and realizing, for the first time, you are looking up at them. Not something a parent is ever prepared for but an instant realization that life unfolds and transforms us all whether or not we notice, whether or not we prepare, or whether or not we agree.

2.     Losing a job or income to support your family and wondering how to make ends meet. Life changes like this can immediately redirect your life and test your faith in so many ways. Somehow when we walk through the storm we end up in greener pastures on the other side of it. The situation itself may not change but we are changed by it.

3.     Caring for a loved one during their last days is a heart-wrenching task that we all eventually face. I wasn’t prepared to lose my Father so early and could not understand why this was God’s plan. Why the suffering? Why the immense pain? Through it I learned the power of God, the mortality of each of us on this earth, and the peace that awaits us when we are called home.

We will never foresee God’s plan for our lives but if we keep our hearts and eyes on him he has promised us this:

-          He will equip and prepare us ( Hebrews 13:21)

-          He is bigger than all of it ( John 16:33)

-          His plan and will for us is perfect ( Romans 12:2)

So, I may never gallop into the grand entry shooting fireworks from atop the flag hoisted from my hip during the National Anthem while everyone stands, proudly covers their heart and covets every graceful movement my horse and I make. It is more likely I will get out of bed each morning, check the boys’ sheets for accidents in the night, spend 10 minutes looking for matching socks, all while they ungratefully choke down their breakfast and gripe about having to wear collar shirts. Then get them off to school and hide with my bible and cup of coffee in the corner hoping for a few minutes of quite time to re-center. Yes, it may not be as glamorous as I had once planned, but it is right where I’m supposed to be and it is perfect.

Blessings!

Jessica