...in list form.

I haven't blogged in a while, so I will really quickly.

In fact... LIST TIME!!! (woo hoo!)

1) Graduated from Simpson University on Saturday.
2) Found Danae to say goodbye as she packed and cried and I tried to "stay strong"...but then cried alone right after. Awful.
3) Packed a little and had a grad party and saw some of my favorite people and went crazy and laughed REAL hard and went crazy again and packed again and laughed REAL REAL hard and finally went to sleep Saturday night...finally.
4) Woke up Sunday morning WAY too early...packed up my stuff at the Ho-Jo AND packed more stuff at the dorm before Stirring AM.
5) Went to the Stirring AM with Aubrey and Hannah and my family...and was reminded of the already-home that is re-becoming my home in this new part of life.
6) Cried during worship (outwardly). Cried during the drive back to Simpson (inwardly).
7) Checked out of Morgan-Sharpe, officially. No crying--just denial.
8) Said goodbye to Aubrey.
9) Got in my car. WEPT.
10) Went to Chipotle with Hannah. Matt and Nolan joined. SO SO good. I loved it.
11) Went to the Stirring to lead some worship songs, saw my father in the second row next to my sister and bro-in-law, sat down, laughed at Nate and Dan, spilled my iced-down soda, sang and played again at the seven o'clock, slipped out for coffee, cried on the way cause the sky was so beautiful (must've been an emotional weekend or something), came back, sang some more, felt the Spirit...which was so good...
12) Left the Stirring exhausted.
13) Was welcomed more warmly than I could have ever imagined or asked for at the Gafners' house...and saw my stuff already in my room. Incredible. I am blessed.
14) Went to sleep...slept WELL. Woke up... woke up WELL.
15) Smiled at the kids' early morning laughter and showered without conditioner... woops.
16) Bought conditioner at Target.
17) Breakfast with my father and Joy and Nate and Haillie and Isaac. Haillie wiped her snot on me, and I wiped the orange-juiced wheat toast crumbs off her forehead.
17) Back to the Gafners'--did some un-packing/napping/nostalgic thinking and staring and remembering.
18) Decided to get coffee at Yaks. Because they have wireless.
19) Got coffee at Yaks and got on Yaks' wireless.
20) Wrote a blog about the last two days of my life...in list form.


Now you know a little about my last two days...in list form...
It doesn't capture everything, but it captures more than nothing.


See ya around Redding! Since I live here now...

Different Than Normal

Ok--two blogs in one afternoon. But this one needs writing, and the one below this is kinda boring. So here's numero dos:

It's Good Friday... the sky is orange right now. Incredible. I wonder if God does that kind of thing on purpose sometimes... to remind us that there days in history that are important, days in history that are really important, and then days in history that are so important even the skies still feel it. Those are the days in history that change everything about history. Good Friday was one of those days.

The orange sky isn't necessary... I remember that the ground shook when Jesus died on the cross...that the curtain in the temple ripped down the middle from top to bottom...that dead holy people were raised and started walking around the holy city...that God felt it when Jesus asked why he had been forsaken.

The orange sky does remind me, though, that Good Friday is more real than a story I just remember every year. And it changes my reality still today. If Christ's death on the cross was meant to have lasting impressions into the very life I live now, then God knows I need to be reminded of that.

It's not that the sky is blood red--it's not rumbling without a cause. It's not that orange is even significant of anything... theological... or... well, anything. It's just that it's different than normal. And I think maybe that's why I noticed God's sky today... because it reminds me that Good Friday has made it possible for me to be different than normal.

We all know our sins put Jesus on the cross just as much as the Roman Soldier who later realized, "Surely he was the Son of God!" And most of us would probably say that our sins continue to do so every year... But I'd venture to say that the Roman Soldier was never the same after realizing what he witnessed. He probably wasn't perfect but...different than normal.

I want to be like the orange sky. I want Christ's crucifixion to change my coloring. I want His sacrifice to really affect me even today... and I want God to maybe feel good when I realize that He, now, doesn't have to forsake me. I'm not His Son...
but I get to be His daughter... and that does make a difference.


God, you've given me eyes to see the possibilities; please grant me the courage to be different than normal. Amen.

I am richly blessed

I'm addressing grad invitations, and it's killing me! One minute, I'm thinking "Gosh, I'm so excited...I can't believe I made it through all four years...." and the next minute, I'm nostalgic: "WHYYYYYYY do I have to grow uuuuuuuup????" *whiny crying face*

But I'm not ashamed of this. A part of me is a little proud even...
...not because I've had the best grades the whole time.
...not because I'm only person in the world to ever complete undergrad school.
...and (definitely) not because I feel ready.

Nah... I think a part of me is a little proud because a part of me is thinking about some of the people that might be a little proud of me. Because I've had a lot of great teachers, and I've had a lot of great friends... and I've had a lot of mentors and encouragers and belivers-in-me over the years... but I've never really known how to thank them appropriately.

Maybe I always secretly hoped I'd be rich by now--so I could buy them all cars or ponies (depending on their environmental concerns)... or, yes, even famous--so I could publicly give honor where honor is due.

I don't know if I'll ever get to do those things, but I do hope they are proud of me...

I hope my grandpa knows that I want to be "a great woman of a granddaughter" for him.
I hope my father knows that I'm glad to have inherited his learner's mind...and his love for humor.
I hope my sisters know that I always found comfort in thoughts of them, no matter how far away from home I was.
I hope my mom knows that she is constantly helping me "make it"--that I still kind of need her...
I hope my step-dad knows that I don't know where I'd be without his faithful commitment and grace.

I hope my high school history teacher remembers how she always gave me space to breathe.
I hope my psychology teacher smiles when she remembers how EVERYTHING fascinated me.
I hope my mentors know that I don't take their investments lightly... I hope they know they changed my life.


I hope my best friends know I couldn't have survived school-combined-with-life without them.
I hope the ones younger than me find out someday that, really, they taught me how to grow, more than the other way around.
I hope my professors know how grateful I am for the way they've ruined my assumptions, exposed my tiny worldview, and given me back the pieces with Christ-seeking tools of reconstruction.
I hope my pastors know that I'm thankful they keep pointing me to Jesus.


I hope all these people (and more) know that whatever life they've spoken to me or love they've shown me has not been in vain. I'm not rich or famous by the world's standards...so I can't give them what the worldly part of me wishes it could...
But I am richly blessed by their influences and famously thankful to them wherever I go.

And maybe that's what graduation is really about...
...not showing that I had the best grades the whole time.
...not showing that "I, too" have completed undergrad school.
...and (oh my gosh-DEFINITELY) not showing that "Yeah! I feel ready for the world now!"

No...I've had good grades before, I've completed some things here and there, and I've experienced my fair share of the world...which, I'm convinced I'm not supposed to feel ready for anyway.

Maybe graduation is really more about those people that I think might be a little proud of me. Maybe it's about them seeing me at this point in my life and thinking, "Gosh, I'm so excited...I can't believe she made it through all four years!" Although, they probably can believe it... they probably believe it better than me...

Because they are the ones that would have always believed it for me, regardless of anything shown at my graduation.




I am richly blessed by them...and very famously thankful...

'What are you doing here?'

The LORD said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by."

Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.
Then a voice said to him,
"What are you doing here, Elijah?"

-1 Kings 19:11-13

That story...is incredible. It has always been one of my favorites. And it woke me up this morning. And, as always, it's been teaching me things. One of those things being that, for whatever reason, God likes to wake me up like this a lot...(sheesh!) The other is that I have a lot to learn about PRAYER...


I was talking to Aubrey about prayer last night, and I remembered that I'm not too sure about it sometimes. I often wonder why I don't just WANT to talk to God more. It's not like He's boring...it's not like He's mean...and I know He's never absent...but sometimes, He does seem so quiet...

This is hardest when it's just after a storm, I think. Elijah knew well the error of looking for the Lord in the wind and the earthquake and the fire...it's not that God hasn't been in my storms, but those so inevitably demand my attention already. And I need Him in those...

For Elijah, a whisper came when it was probably the last thing he was expecting or even thought he needed...
But, it was a whisper. And it was a gentle whisper...
A whisper that drew him...
A whisper that drew him out...
A whisper that drew him to...

It drew Him out of his hiding-cave and to the edge of the exposed-mountain surface. And when he heard it, he covered his face and stood on the brink... I'm sure he was waiting for God to speak--something unmistakable, maybe something more powerful and loud than even the calamities before could measure up to! If I had been Elijah--I can just hear myself--"I better cover my face and not get too far out there...He's grabbing me with this gentle whisper...but I've been fishing before! Uh huh! I know how this goes! Well, good. It's probably gonna be pretty jolting, but heck, I'm used to it by now... Bring it on! OK. I'm...ready..." On goes the cloak, and I follow the whisper out...

Well, the thing I'd hear, and what Elijah heard, wouldn't be matching up to any such description... my fishing analogy would have fallen short. God did not yell louder, or jolt Elijah more than any of the natural disasters would have. And He did not clearly tell Elijah what He had to say to Him after all these crazy things had just happened. Actually, God did not "yell" or "tell" at all... He just... asked.

"What are you doing here, Elijah?"

What was he doing there???


Sometimes I wonder if after a storm, I expect to keep praying and hearing words from God that are blazing and jolting and that literally blow me over to next clear battle for Him... but then when they are not so unavoidable, when they are whispers that I could just as easily keep in my cave with me, I wonder if I do just that... keep in my cave...

BUT GOD (have I mentioned how much I love those "But God"s???)...

But God keeps whispering. Sometimes I wonder if it's just so that I will go to Him--go up to the mountain He's told me to stand on--for the sole purpose of teaching me that there doesn't really need to be a purpose...or it's a different purpose than I thought. Sometimes I wonder if prayer is not as much about purpose as it is about presence. Sometimes I wonder if I don't need to be yelled at or told anything by God as much as I need to be drawn by His gentle whisper. And sometimes I wonder if He doesn't necessarily expect me to always have requests or questions for Him but instead may just want to ask me something...

"What are you doing here, Jenna?"

What am I doing here???


"God, I heard your whisper, so I came out to be with you. I didn't want to miss you pass by..."

Ready?!... BREAK!!

Ah, spring break...

Feelin better...chillin with Isaac and his bottle...Haillie's proud she can "pee pee" on the toilet...the "couples" (Joy and Nate, Janelle and Tiber) introduced me to The Big Bang Theory...it's hilarious...

Jo's basketball banquet is tonight...she's gonna get about 28 awards...even if she doesn't, I'm still glad I'm here for it and will probably not stop telling her how cool I think she is until she yells at me for using all her tooth paste...but I'll buy her more.

And Alex is gonna experience Kristene Mueller's Those Who Dream tonight by my provision and nagging.

Janelle cut my hair (because I always let her practice on me)...Mom wants me to open my eyes wider in pictures (but I always do opposite of what she says in them anyway)...Nate just said I have a pretty face (so sweet)...Joy just helped clean up graffiti in town...Dad's escorting Haillie around on his shoulders...he's "Teacher of the Year" for our county...way cool...

Emailing my WCS paper...starting my TWM paper...and my NTT paper...and my LLP one...and my other LLP one...

I want to nap just thinking about them...


But break is always good. I'll probably write another song. That'd be awesome...maybe my sisters will help.




And ok, ok, he's growing on me...

Making us mountains...

Things that happen to grow and shape us are usually more unwelcome than we thought they would be. It's subtle. But, whoever wants to grow when they've found out how hard it actually is to feel the chisel and fire? Maybe we're being made stronger for something that will soon require great strength. Maybe we're being made more humble for something that will soon require us to seek His affirmation above others. Maybe we're being made mountains of faith for what His calling of us demands we learn to stand firm through...

A good friend sat on the bed curled up against the wall and my shoulder one night after realizing this very thing. And, while crying and hurting and bargaining for any other kind of realization than this one, she said something that struck me and hasn't stopped resonating since.

"I just never guessed it would look like this..."

I don't think any of us ever guess it will look like "this..." We think it will be clear as day--we think it will be the most intense, completely life-altering challenge that God will place before us...right in front of our eyes...our giant Goliath. And when one choice seems "so EASY" while the other seems "so SCARY AND LETHAL" we will know that, clearly, it is the hard one we must choose--the luminous way, calling for our immense courage and sacrifice all wrapped up in martyrdom and a radical going-against-the-flow kind of theme song. And we think it may require more physical signs of devotion on our part...like giving all our shoes away, or conquering our blatantly "wrong" addiction, or flying across the globe to a place that will never really feel like home...

But we say we'd do those things. We could if we had to...and if God gave us the miraculous strength it would take. We say we'd do anything, really... Anything really...BIG. What other Christian could judge if it was something really BIG? What fellow Christian mocks the man that "lays down his life for another"? Unless, of course, that laying down of his life isn't as literal as we always pictured...

My friend wasn't sacrificing shoes or drugs or the country she calls home. She wasn't literally sacrificing her life for anyone else's either. But she was sacrificing something just as comfortable. She was deciding to choose something that costs...

Jesus is calling her to follow Him in this--He has a rock for her to climb. It may not look the same as the jagged cliffs she pictured. But it is a way into the heart of God nonetheless. And sometimes it's harder to welcome the things that happen to shape us, to expose us, to squeeze us enough for that needle's eye...than it is to walk away with a grieved spirit...

But our spirits would surely be grieved if they had denied the molding of God's hand.

And while she didn't think following Jesus would look like...this...I don't usually either. Maybe that's why what she said is still resonating. Because, in that moment, I think I really caught a glimpse of the sweetest thing...

...Someone brave enough to let God begin making her a mountain.

[And this song by Kristene Mueller makes me think of her]...


TRUST

It's the sweetest thing,
To trust you...
Just to know You've got everything under control.

It's the sweetest thing,
To trust you...
Just to know You've got everything.

You are making me a mountain, making me a mountain,
That cannot be shaken.
You are making me a mountain, making me a mountain,
That cannot be moved.

High up, on a rock, lookin' out at the horizon...
Watchin' as the storm rolls in, wonderin' if my heart will survive it...
And as the waves crash all around me,
And I can't remember what it feels like to be free...

I know You're making me a mountain, making me a mountain,
That cannot be shaken.
You are making me a mountain, making me a mountain,
That cannot be moved.

You say,
"I've got you, my baby, oh I've got you.
It's quite the mess you're in, but it's nothin' love can't fix...
...So sit here upon my shoulders,
And watch as it all unwinds."

You are making me a mountain, making me a mountain,
That cannot be shaken.
I know You're making me a mountain, making me a mountain,
That cannot be moved.
I know You're making me a mountain, making me a mountain,
That cannot be shaken.
You are making me a mountain, making me a mountain,
That cannot be moved.


Those things that happen to grow and shape us are usually more unwelcome than we thought they would be. Sometimes, they're subtle. But when they don't look like we guessed they would...when those unexpectedly unwelcome things happen...hopefully we won't walk away with our spirits grieved. Hopefully, we can remember that He's making us mountains...

I've lost it.

Yup, my Bible...I've lost it. I checked with campus safety, and no one has turned it in here at Simpson... so I think maybe I left it at the Stirring a couple weeks ago...??? Because it HAS been about two weeks...so so sad...I am ashamed.

Luckily I own others... but they are NOT the same at all. This one is marked up, highlighted front-to-back, holding prayers and reminders and notes of all kinds...
This one is...read... AND it's red.

Ah...such a nice, cool-design-on-half-of-it red too! It has my name engraved on the bottom. It's NIV, which is common and generally appreciated...

If you've seen my Bible...I'd like to know it's safe and sound and where I need to go to get it back... :(

Anywhere--I'll go.
Across town? SURE.
Scavenger hunt through the mall? Fine--I can suffer through that.
Climb Mount Shasta? YES. I'll do it...if my Bible is at the top.
(I probably wouldn't eat celery to get my Bible back though...being honest about that right now...)

I feel...incompetent without my Bible. I even got a new, free planner from Darby so I could re-organize my life for these crazy last 18 school days of my entire undergrad career! But I'm sitting here looking at it, entering in important dates, upcoming events, my 7 papers and 3 final projects due by the end of the semester, and all I can think is..."I'm going to fall apart without my Bible..."

I think my journal is with it, too.

The worst two things to lose right now during this season of lent and reflection and the-scariest-time-of-my-life...
If I get them back, I won't ever take these two things for granted again!!! (And I will more seriously support those who translate and provide Bibles for others around the world).

Oh gosh...my Bible could be ANYWHERE!!!


Have you seen it lately???