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