Permanent Reminder

I should start by saying that I've always wanted another tattoo. I have two on my back and I have them because I like them. And yes, the process of getting one is slightly painful, but then so is working out and tweezing your eyebrows.

Last night, two of my good friends, Heather and Mal, joined me on my little pre-birthday adventure.
I had decided that I wanted a heart years ago. And after much searching I found a beautiful design that felt very "me." This was going to be my present to myself for the big 3-0 birthday that is looming in my very near future.

The heart carries deep significance for me. Aside from how many pieces of jewelry I own with heart designs, it's goes deeper than that. It represents love and beauty and a place where I'm at in my life now, where I don't sit in self-contempt as often as I used to. I am learning to love who I am as God made me, rather than hating and loathing myself and my flaws. For as long as I can remember I have not liked who I was. I've been hell-bent for years, trying to change into someone else. Until more recently, I rarely enjoyed what made me, me and rarely allowed myself to be enjoyed by others as the woman God created me to be. I know I still struggle here, but I've tasted the sweetness of what it's like to live in a place where I no longer abide with self-contempt.

I wanted this tattoo - public and visible for all to see - as a reminder of not only God's love for me, but to claim my true identity as a lovely, beautiful, fun, exciting, slightly wild and crazy, and tender-hearted woman.

The process of getting it was painful. I didn't cry, but I may or may not have cursed a very bad word in the midst of it. Oh wow, it hurt.
And I didn't do it alone. I had friends there holding my hand. And taking embarrassing pictures of me the entire time.
And the end result? Ta-da!
I love it. It's very me. And most definitely "Jenn-sational."

Moving on

Maybe I've been thinking about her so much because my birthday is around the corner. Even though I've lived almost 12 years of life without her, I still wish she were here to celebrate it with me. Sometimes I wonder how I can miss someone so much who hasn't been present in my life for years.

Grief always seems to take me by surprise. Just when I thought I've cried all the tears I've needed to cry about my mom for a while, some fresh, new memory comes to mind and I feel sadness again. I think sometimes I just need to hear someone tell me that it's okay for me to still grieve the loss of her. Maybe I just need to hear someone tell me that it's okay to still miss her and want her in my life. And then I wonder why I need permission from someone else to grieve?

I guess I feel like most of my family is "over" her in a way. And I wonder if I should be over her and moved on too.

You move on as much as you can though when someone close to you dies. But I do often feel the holes that she left that only a mom - my own mom - can fill. I am not over her. Does that mean I haven't moved on? And does that even look the same for everyone anyway?

When Tommy was born, my Aunt came down to stay with me for almost two weeks. She wanted to help with the baby and just be with me for my first days and weeks as a new mom. That was probably something my mom would have done had she been alive. She would have come to stay with me and help. She would have cooked dinner, sat with Tommy so I could sleep and recover, done my dishes, and bought me special things. Instead, Auntie was here to do that. And it meant the world to me to have her fill in that particular hole for me.

When she came that year, she brought this picture to me. I only had one picture ever of my mom and I together from when I was little, so a new picture felt like I had recovered a long lost treasure. I immediately framed this in a sunflowerly frame and it sits on my kitchen counter in my sunflowery kitchen.
I have no idea why I was holding all these balloons. I have a vague memory of this day. We were at my Grammy's house and she took the picture of us. I can remember holding the balloons. I can even remember posing for a picture with my her. But I don't remember anything else. I wish I did. It looked like such a fun day. I was young here -maybe three or so. I wish she were here to tell me what this day was about. I love how cheesy-happy I look.

I'm not sure what it means really to move on when it comes to the loss of my mother. Maybe that's what I've been doing in the last 12 years of my life - moving on. Missing her, grieving her, wishing she were here, and living my life without her.

Unpacking

I have to admit that it feels a little weird to be a in a new blogging place. I don't have years worth of posts in my archives and things just feel a little bare around here. It's kind of like the feeling you have when moving into a new house and you haven't hung your pictures up and everything is still in boxes. It just doesn't feel like home quite yet.

So yeah. Feels a little weird to be here. Just sayin.

I thought I'd unpack a few things though today. I have a lot on my mind, a lot on my plate. And sometimes, blurbing it all out helps me bring some calm into the chaos.

Three meals a day and life in between. This is my new mantra thanks to the eating disorder specialist I've been seeing once a week. This is hard for me. Especially the life in between part. Learning to live life and having food only at mealtimes is something that has proved to be hard to unlearn. More thoughts on this later perhaps...

I turn 30 in eleven days. I'm feeling excited about my upcoming party. I'm feeling weird that I'll be leaving my 20's forever. And I'm a little surprised that 30 doesn't sound as old as it used to.

After reading my devotional yesterday, I've been looking at where and how I look for affirmation apart from God. And ew.

Starting to plan a fun shower for my friend Shelley who is getting married in June. It's hard not to get carried away. Lots of fun ideas. And how to implement them all on a tight budget...?

Mom has been on my mind a lot lately. Which has probably something to do with going through Grace Groups. I've found it surprising that I've been looking at some of these pieces of my story again and it's left me feeling lonely. The mom-void in my heart has been aching more these days.

I am feeling like I'm in the pregnancy waiting game again. Especially now that it seems as though I am in a race against my Rheumatoid Arthritis. I'm feeling the pressure and urgency and many thoughts and fears are rolling around in my heart about it all. It feels weird to be in this place again - hoping for a baby. And wondering what my future holds here.

Just a few of the boxes that needed to be unpacked today.

Dad's 50th Birthday

It's a big birthday year in our family. My Grammy's 75th, my Dad's 50th and my 30th. And they all happen one right after another. Next up was my dad's big day.

On Saturday, a huge group of his friends and family gathered at a barbecue place to celebrate his big day.

Singing Happy Birthday. A blurry picture by yours truly.
My dad has been quite indignant about heading into his 50's. He has rebelled by growing out his hair (by his own admission). Since he has felt so old, I decided to make him feel even older by getting him a bag of gag gifts for some essentials that he might need to hang onto as he ages...
The best reaction was when he took out the designer Depends for men. (Another awesome picture of a ceiling fan and only part of his reaction). I made him open the gifts in front of everyone. Good times. Great laughs.
The latter half of the party, we got to enjoy some entertainment thanks to Ruben V - my dad's favorite musician/guitarist. The man has some serious skills on an electric guitar. A few songs in, my dad got up there to sing an original that he had written and got to sing with Ruben and his band. I still remember a time when my dad hated being on stage and singing in front of people, so it was awesome to see him front and center jamming out in front of all his friends.
Birthdays are all about celebrating life. The older we get, the more of life we have lived. The older we get, the more our stories evolve and unfold. And sometimes, the older we get, the more we transform into the image of Christ.
I remember last December hearing my dad say something I haven't forgotten. It was in the midst of probably one of the hardest conversations we've ever had to date. He told me that one of his "rules" is that everything that happens to him, purposes to transform him more into being like Christ. He sees all of his circumstances and encounters with others to push him to change and call him to more. Basically, his heart's desire is to be more like Christ. He is open and vocal about that desire - and that, is something I admire him for.

Happy Birthday Dad! I'm glad you're birthday was as rockin' as you are!

Why - "There is a Season?"

It was the year my parents were in the middle of their separation and divorce mess as a teenager, that I first found the passage of Ecclesiastes 3 that spoke of everything having a time and a season. This passage offered great comfort to me at the time, and still does when I find myself in seasons of life that are painful or full of hardship. This passage is dear to my heart - it was even read at my wedding.

I love these verses because they navigate through the mess that life can often be. It reminds us that life will be rich, tragic, beautiful, imperfect and full if were are living it. It gives permission to grieve and sorrow and get angry. And it invites us to celebrate and sing and dance too. This passage makes me feel heard by God and gives my feelings and emotions validation. It also gives face to the people that I am relationship with who are a part (or not a part) of these seasons alongside of me.

Nature's seasons are a wondrous thing. I love that God in His infinite imagination, created our earth to change throughout the year. There is beauty to be had in all of the seasons. His majesty shows up in snow-covered mountains, autumn red trees, spring flowers and clear, sunshine-filled summer days. The very world we live in is ever changing around us as are we. I never tire of His creation and how He makes it for us to enjoy throughout the year in different ways.

Summer is full of sunshine, long days and plenty of time to play. But the heat can feel unbearable and the long days can grow weary. Autumn is beautiful and full of rich colors, smells and foods. But it is also a time for harvesting and work, of back-to-school and the rut of every day life. Winter invites holidays and celebration and a time for peace and rest and stillness. And yet it can be icy, cold, hard and leave us feeling alone. And then there is always spring. The season that promises newness of life, rejuvenation, fresh starts, growth, and perfect weather to enjoy. Spring only lasts for a season, but every year promises to bring another spring with it.

It has felt very spring-like here in south Texas. I am enjoying wearing sandals again and no longer needing my winter coat. I love having my windows open and breathing in fresh air. I love seeing the sunshine, and very soon, wildflowers will start blooming.

I think for the majority of my adult life, I have lived for spring and spring only. I have often found myself waiting for the season I am currently in to be over so that I can move on to the next, where my circumstances feel good and make me happy and secure and content. And in doing that, I have missed where God has me and the beauty and life there is to be had in all things - even in circumstances I wish I could change.

It is my desire to be in every season that I find myself in and really live there. In the midst of hardship or of great joy - to be present, alive and full of hope, and longing.

And to write about some of what that looks like, here.