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a time for everything.

February 26, 2015

Ecc 3:1-8


There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:

2     a time to be born and a time to die,

    a time to plant and a time to uproot,

3     a time to kill and a time to heal,

    a time to tear down and a time to build,

4     a time to weep and a time to laugh,

    a time to mourn and a time to dance,

5     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

6     a time to search and a time to give up,

    a time to keep and a time to throw away,

7     a time to tear and a time to mend,

    a time to be silent and a time to speak,

8     a time to love and a time to hate,

    a time for war and a time for peace.




I've known this passage of the Bible for a long time now, but this past Monday my therapist made me read it. I giggled as we went through each line together. Here I've highlighted exactly where I feel I'm at. He reminded me that it's important to KNOW where you are, what season you're living in, and to fully embrace that season, with no pressure on yourself, and to just go through it so that you can become on the other side.


I almost wrote the word better in there before "the other side," but I JUST read in my book I'm reading that better means I'd be worth something more on the other side of this, but I truly, truly believe that I'm worth just as much, here in the broken, than I will be when it's my time to move forward.


Ever since September 7th, I've been stuck.


Stuck is the only way I can describe it because I can't seem to find any other word that can describe the ability to NEED Jesus so much, yet have the hardest time talking with Him. Stuck.

Remember the time I saw him? Arms wide open as I went through surgery with the boys. I still see him. Every. Single. Day. But it's been hard to talk with him. I don't want our conversations to be merely about what I want, what I need, or how bad it hurts. I don't want to disappoint. You know, showing him how bad I'm really doing.


{Insert laugh here.}


Let's go into the description of Jenna. Let's learn a little more about her. This gets deep folks, but remember, this is a no judgment area. This is me. This is real. And if you don't like it, I'm sorry that I'm not sorry. And if you don't understand, please feel free to ask. I'm learning that an open book offers much more than a closed one.


Jenna was born May 26, 1988. < I almost wrote 2015. HA. Mommy brain. But maybe there's some truth to that, as I feel like a new person in 2015.


As a kid, Jenna experienced a whole book worth of memories. They consist of the happy home-like memories, creative out of the box memories, and then the dark, you're not allowed to talk about memories.


In our marriage class, we are exploring our childhood and all the baggage that we've kept packed over the years and are relentlessly unpacking out onto our spouses. Oh, my poor Nicholas.

It's brought up a lot in me, and it's making me realize A LOT. Some good things, and others, well I wish I could keep those things packed away forever, but that's what's keeping me stuck.

Keeping things packed, folded as tightly as possible, not even a single ounce of room for a wrinkle, and zipped away with a lock and key. There you have it. Jenna is a stuffer, and she's been stuffing a lot inside.


When something happens to me, I wrap it up tightly and stick it deep into my brain, or usually my heart and wear it there until my body and my mouth can't handle it anymore.


My therapist calls these emotions.


I pack all these emotions into a ball. All these emotions that I'm feeling within my season, knitting them closely and hiding them from the world to see.


You see, Jenna grew up around conflict. Sorry family, love you to death, but you have to admit there was a ton of conflict, and I've tried to keep the conflict to a bare minimum by stuffing it all in. There's one issue of stuffing. Usually, you hold WAY too much in and there comes a point of explosion.


{Emotions are meant to come out. God created them to do just that.}


My parents would remember this as me talking back.


My friends would remember this as me partying through college.


My husband remembers this as yelling.


These days, it's coming out as anxiety, crying, and a feeling of losslessness.


Basically, I'm worried about what others think, fear that I won't be enough, sadness because I've lost, and a heart that's missing a huge part of it.


I am in a season of mourn.


This is hard for me to admit. Ever since I was a child, I hired myself as a people pleaser, a person that wants to make everyone else happy, a person that worries about what others will think, and well that job is failing me.


Jesus did not come to make us happy.


Jesus did not care what others thought of him.


Jesus showed kindness and LOVED others, no matter what, BUT he did not slave to make them like him in return.


Jesus wept. He too was in a season of mourn.


If Jesus can admit it, then why can't I?


Oh society, you've been unfair. Oh world, you've created these thoughts and worries that are POINTLESS.


Jesus has overcome the world, and so will I.


So here's the season I'm in, and here's what I need to say to those that I love and care about:


I am in a season of mourn. I went into preterm labor and held two precious boys, lifeless, that I

love so much, and truthfully, I just miss them. Every single bit of them.


I am in a season of being born. I know this seems odd to admit, but I feel it. My heart is longing so much for the church, for new, for fresh air, for Jesus. I feel him telling me that I'm a new person. I have a new normal, and he's telling me that's okay. I'm changing. And he thinks that's okay. With that, I'm saying goodbye to a few things and a few habits. And I'm saying goodbye to the world.


I am in a season of healing, and with that I am in a season that may have less communication, less memory, and more me. Ehhhhhh, that made me sound so selfish, and that's where the people pleaser in me starts screaming, but people, I need to love myself harder so that I can love you harder. And in order to love myself harder, I need to heal. My heart needs mending. Instead of seeing Jesus hold his hands out to me, I need to be carried in those hands. I need to be carried like a young child in his arms.


I am in a season of building. I'm building my faith, my marriage, my mother super powers, my relationships, and my company. With that, I can't keep holding onto those things that have been tearing me down. I just can't.  I just can't.

I am in a season of scattering stones. To me, this is the messy chaos. It's the beauty in that chaos. It's all the pieces of me that I can distribute around this place I call home, (until I move onto my home, home) and the beauty in finding where my stones take me, where the chaos and mess takes me.


I am in a season of embracing. Embracing the packed full planner, embracing the inability to keep communication through a phone call or even text message, unless you're Nick, Shannon, or in the wedding industry. (PLEASE KEEP IN MIND: this doesn't mean I love you less, or that I'm not doing good, this just means I'm taking some time, but I'll be back- and keep in mind that this may mean you need to push a little tiny bit harder. I may not be good right now at making plans or picking up the phone, but if you want, just show up, come over, close your eyes at the mess, and be here. I'm here. ) I'm embracing the chances to run through the mud puddles with my kiddos, trying tea vs. coffee (haha), the packed filled sink, the books I've been dying to read, and the chances I've been wanting to take. I'm embracing the dreams that are now becoming life, and watching them unfold, and holding my chest as I tried to catch my breath from all the excitement. Even though I've had some tough moments the last year, I can't deny the blessings I've had as well. That includes those moments where I've pinched myself and asked, "Is this real life?' I'm embracing them all, hand in hand.


I am in a season of searching for what Jesus wants to come out of all of this, and for giving up on things that I cannot change, people I cannot change, and emotions that I cannot change. I'll learn to be ok with these things, people, and emotions just as Jesus is.