Two Little Words For Those Really Hard Times

("Any Good In Goodbye" Continued)

I don’t know who hurts more when I have a hangnail – me or my mom.
She winces as if it’s her own when I show her my finger.

Why would my hangnail hurt my mom just as much as me?

I don’t know. I guess it’s because she loves me that much.

We tend to take on the pain of those we love.

When my first-ever boyfriend moved away my freshman year of high school, I came running into the house after saying my last goodbye. I was in hysterics. The tears could not break lose fast enough to keep up with my devastation.

I just knew my life was OVER! 

When I got home, I didn’t even make it to my room. I fell on the floor, face buried in a couch cushion.

And my mom –

the mom who knew everything would be just fine; the mom who has the eternal perspective to know this heartbreak did not have the last word; the mom who could have easily told me to just get over it … Yeah, that mom?

That mom dug my face out of the couch cushion and gently rested it in her lap. She stroked my hair. She repeated over and over how sorry she was. She hurt with me. And I felt less alone.

Suffering is hard enough, but suffering alone? Unbearable.  

As I’ve said goodbye this past year, I've learned empathy does not heal the wound. 

But it does make the process of healing a lot better.

Why? Because you feel understood, loved, but most of all…

You feel less alone.

I think that’s why I have held on to the shortest verse in the Bible so tightly during the suffering of goodbye. Just two, little words that aren't so little.

“Jesus wept.” (For the entire story, click here.)

Some of Jesus’ closest friends were a set of siblings – Mary, Martha and Lazarus.

In John 11, we read that Lazarus grew sick and died.

After Lazarus’ death, Jesus goes to visit Mary and Martha.

And when Jesus walks with Mary and Martha to visit the gravesite, Jesus begins to weep.

Jesus –

the Jesus who knew everything would be just fine; the Jesus who has the eternal perspective to know this death does not have the last word; the Jesus who could have told Mary and Martha to get over it (after all, He was about to raise their brother from the dead) … Yeah, that Jesus?

That Jesus wept with Mary and Martha over the loss of their brother as if it were his own. 

John tells us that his "spirit was troubled." 

He didn't just cry; He wailed.

And to know this.

To know that He cries.

To know that the Creator of the universe not only understands our grief but experienced suffering in a way you and I will never live. 

To know that He not only cares about my feelings but feels my feelings. 

Something about that makes saying goodbye, makes the suffering in this life, a little easier.

As He has lifted my face out of the couch cushion and has stroked my hair …

As we've cried together over brokenness, something has happened.

I've, in turn, understood His suffering a little more. I've experienced Him more. I know Him more. 

And that intimacy is one of the "goods" I have found in goodbye.

I don’t know who your hangnail hurts more – you or Jesus 

He gets you, He understands you, He empathizes with you.

You are never alone in your suffering.

Is There Any Good In Goodbye?

A little precursor note for you:

Over the past year, it seems I’ve had a lot more goodbyes than hellos. 

I am abundantly grateful for the support I have, so I do not write about this season of goodbye fishing for sympathy/attention. 

Instead, I hope over the next few weeks, this blog can just turn into a classroom for both you and me as we share with one another what we have learned through loss and learn about how God sees it. 

My prayer is that we encourage one another (so please comment!) and that these posts bring us comfort and hope as we look to a day when we say "goodbye" to goodbye forever.

Why is the word “good” in goodbye?

Is there really ANY good in it? 

At face value, there doesn’t seem to be much.

In fact, I’d like to have a stern convo and a firm handshake with the person who created the word.

Sure, there are byes that are easily good.

No one cries when they say bye to braces, bye to acne, bye to the polyester gym shorts they made us wear in middle school P.E.

Those really are GOODbyes.

But then there are goodbyes that don't feel that good; they maybe feel okay. 

'Okaybyes.'

They are the byes that hurt but still leave you believing that life will be alright. 

I had some 'okaybyes' this year.

An 'okaybye' to a job that I loved for six years and a team I loved even more.

An 'okaybye' to my childhood home. I’m the nostalgic weirdo that has to say goodbye to inanimate objects. So I said goodbye to my room where my old Backstreet Boys poster hung and goodbye to the yard where we buried our retriever Molly.

Maybe you said an 'okaybye' to a friend who moved away, a lost piece of jewelry from your grandmother or said an 'okaybye' to college.

'Okaybyes' are more grey than dark. Light still creeps in from the end of the tunnel.

But what about the byes where light almost feels completely absent?

The byes that aren't good or okay. They are heart wrenching. 

The byes that make our stomach hurt.

The byes that seem too soon. 

The byes that leave a hole. 

The byes that empty out the Klenex box and fill our minds with questions.

The byes that make waking up the hardest decision of your life and brushing your teeth seem pointless.

Who cares?! They’re just stinkin’ teeth!

Those feel more like 'badbyes.'

How are we supposed to get through 'badbye'? It doesn't look as if any good is in them.

My husband lost his dad to brain cancer recently.

He was my husband’s hero and best friend, healthy, active, gentle and loving. 

And then all of a sudden … he was gone.

I remember walking through the grocery story right after his death thinking, “How can everyone be so normal right now? How can she be chatting on her phone and picking up a can of corn as if life is okay? It’s not!”

In my heart the world had stopped.

But I guess the world missed that memo.

You’ve had your own share of 'badbye.'

Maybe you’ve said byes that are much more often and much more painful than I.

So can there really be ANY good in it, any good in goodbye?

Well, s-l-o-w-l-y God is showing me some of the good - in the 'okaybyes' and even in the 'badbyes,' starting with the shortest verse in the Bible:

“Jesus wept.” (John 11:35)

I’ll go into why this verse has brought me comfort a little later. 

But for now, want to read the surrounding verses with me (John11:1-45)?

Over the next handful of posts, I'll be hanging out in John 11, pointing out some verses that have gone deep. 

Would love for you to hang out there with me as we talk about the hardship and even the beauty of goodbye.

(Would you like to join in on the conversation? What “goods” have you found in goodbye, if any at all?)

Love Knows Your Name

I love nicknames.
In college I lived with a roomie whose name was also Jenna.
So our friends gave us a lot of nicknames to set us apart.
I became a variety of names: J, JLu, Jen, Beautiful, Her Majesty …
(Okay, maybe not all of those were my nicknames. I'll let you guess which ones were not:)

But I also love nicknames because, in my opinion, they show affection.
They tend to show that the relationship is more than just professional.
When I use a nickname, that means I really know her or him.
And usually love her or him.

My dad still calls me "Jenna Wenna." It's a special nickname he calls me.
And for whatever reason it makes me feel loved.

Maybe that's because when people say our names, whether it be "nicked" or not, that means we are, to some extent known by them.
And we all want to feel known, right?
Why do think our culture is so obsessed with fame, social media, even blogs:)?
To be known.
And we don't just want to be known in a shallow way.
But in a relational way, in a loving way.
Because when we are known in a deep and loving way, it changes us.

It changed my girl Mary.
Ever met Mary? A lot of people call her Mary Magdalene.
But properly, she is Mary from Magdala.
Magdala is a village on the Sea of Galilee, a village Jesus would have visited, a village where He probably met Mary.

First thing we read about her?
Well, Luke 8 tells us that Jesus had cured her of seven demons.
In typical boy fashion, Luke keeps it short. Seven words to describe seven demons.
"from. whom. seven. demons. had. gone. out." 
Real cool Luke. 
Give us girls some details! 


But all we know is that before, Mary was living in darkness and despair. 
And now she is different.
Now she is following Jesus, even helping Jesus. 
Something about Jesus compelled her to follow Him, even minister TO Him. 

So what in heaven's name happened? 
Well, I believe love happened. 
What happened to transform Mary? 

It was a love that not only had the power to cure her but the power to transform her. 
And even more than that, it was a love that was personal, relational.
A love that made her feel known. 
A love that knew her name.
How do we know this? By looking at the end of her story.

Mary sees Jesus die a brutal death on a cross. 
After he was buried, she went to visit His grave.
But when she arrived at the grave, something was very wrong. 
The tomb where Jesus was buried was empty. 
So she began to cry, thinking someone had stolen His body.
As she cried, she heard a voice. 

Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?”Supposing Him to be the gardener, she said to Him, “Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away.” Jesus said to her,“Mary!” She turned and said to Him in Hebrew, “Rabboni!” (which means, Teacher).

When did she finally recognize the voice of Jesus?
Did you catch it? If not, look again.
She recognized Him when she heard her name. 
"Mary."

What does that say about Jesus? What does that say about the relationship she had with Him? 

You know, looking back …
In high school when I did anything so that the "cool girls" would know my name,
Or when I would load on the makeup so that the cute guy would know my name…

Or looking at today …
When someone I admire actually knows my name,
And as silly as this sounds, when a someone tweets or Facebooks my name…

It all roots back to this deeper desire I have to be known.

So when I think about the truth that Jesus knows my name...
I mean, the Creator of Pluto knows my name!
The moulder of the mountains to know my name!
The essence of love knows my name!
It changes me, just like it changed Mary. It takes me from darkness to light. From empty to filled. 

You have a God who knows your name.
Love knows your name.
"He calls His own sheep by name …" 

And if this truth hasn't changed you, then maybe, starting today, you can get to know Him in return.



P.S. If you don't know what all this "knowing Jesus" stuff is all about, but you are interested … contact me here. 

Valentine's Day GIVEAWAY!

Another Valentine's giveaway is here!

This is a short giveaway so SIGN UP NOW so that you can win by TOMORROW!

In honor of heart day, I'm giving away another free copy of a book I wrote about love called, "Love Is…"

So retweet it, Facebook it, let all your buddies know!

The more you spread the word about the GIVEAWAY, the more chances you have to win:)


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Love Is … Healing

Wounds. We all have them.

Wounders. We have all been them.

After all, we live in a broken, wounded world.

2013 came with many wounds - the passing of my father-in-law, the passing of a grandmother, the passing of our unborn baby. And with these wounds, I became a wounder.

Ever heard the phrase, "hurt people hurt people"? It's true. (And my poor husband got the brunt.)

I think that's why this past year, I found myself hanging out with one particular girl in the New Testament a lot. I just feel like I “get” her a little, and if she knew me, she would “get” me. 

(See her full story here.)

I don’t know her name.

The Bible doesn’t tell us.

But we instantly sense her shame.

See, for 12 years Mark tells us that this woman suffered from “constant” bleeding.

A lot of scholars think it was a hemorrhage of the womb, so that means vaginal bleeding for 12 years.

Twelve years.

Constant.

And with this kind of bleeding, under the Jewish law, she was legally "unclean."

Anyone or anything she touched would be legally “unclean.”

So it may not be a stretch to assume that for 12 years this woman couldn’t attend synagogue, couldn’t hug a friend she passed in the market, couldn’t hold her husband’s hand or pick up a baby.

What would this do to your self-esteem, reputation … your heart?

Twelve years of being called “unclean.”

Twelve years of separation.

The physical wound was nothing compared to the emotional one.

Can you relate to her a little? What wounds are hurting you today?

Maybe it was her cutting words. His unfaithfulness. A dad who wasn’t emotionally involved, or a mom whose expectations you couldn’t live up to.

It could be that this Valentine’s week only brings you pain because you haven’t met him or you miss him.

And what do you do with this hurt?

Maybe you deny it.

Maybe you dwell on it.

Or maybe you, like me, turn to people or stuff to fix it.

Not too long ago I was worked up with worry. I had to go to the mall to return an item. 

I walked into the mall with one bag and walked back out with five.

Popping shopping pills.

I’m guilty.

I frequently find myself telling one girlfriend about how the other girlfriend hurt me. I call it “venting,” but let’s call it for what it is – gossip.

Rubbing a little gossip ointment on the wound.

I’m guilty.

But instead of turning to shopping, gossip, social media, a new man, job success or way too many margaritas for healing, what if we do what our friend does in Mark 5?

“She had heard about Jesus, so she came up behind him through the crowd and touched his robe. For she thought to herself, “If I can just touch his robe, I will be healed.” 

She turned to Jesus.

And she didn’t just turn to Him.

She turned to Him with faith.

“I will be healed,” she thinks.

And when she does, her bleeding immediately stops.

But that’s not enough for Jesus.

Physical healing is never enough for Jesus.

“He turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who touched my robe?” 

And “he kept on looking around to see who had done it.” 

I love that word “kept.”

He kept after her until she was drawn out of the madness of the mob who marginalized her and into the presence of the God who sees her, knows her, loves her.

And He does the same with you and me.

He keeps after us.

Keeps after us until we see the success, the shopping, the new man, the new figure ... can’t cure us.

He keeps after us until we step into His presence.

His presence is healing ointment for our deepest wounds.

Because in His presence, we are seen, we are known, we are loved.

In His presence, He says to her...to you...to me,

“Daughter, you took a risk of faith, and now you’re healed and whole.” 

Valentine Giveaway!

Thought I would share the "love" with my first-ever GIVEAWAY!
Hooray for free stuff!

Enter TODAY to win a free copy of a book I wrote called: Love Is ...
In the book, you and I do a 6-week study on what love really looks like.
We will dive into 5 stories about Jesus interacting with women in the New Testament.
But don't worry!
Whether you know the Bible like a best friend or a third cousin you have met at two family weddings over the course of 25 years, it doesn't matter.
It's very "user friendly."

(Also good as a small group study.)

So good luck!
(When you click the link below, notice that you can enter multiple times to increase your odds. So click away!)

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Love is a Someone

Well it's February. You know what that means.
Cold weather, delayed flights, the end of football season, MLB spring training, Mardi Gras buzz … oh yeah, and that little day called Valentine's Day.

Don't start rolling your eyes yet Valentine haters. I'm not going to go "Nicholas Sparks" on ya.
But I do want to hang out on this idea of "love" over the next few posts.

I know, I know, the "love" theme is cliche.
But aren't cliches, cliche for a reason?
Why do you think almost every song, every book, every poem, every commercial includes this idea of "love"?

Because we were made for it - made to love, made to be loved, made to say love, made to know love.

And did you know that you were made by Love?
Love thought you into existence.
Love knit you together in your mother's womb. It breathed life into your soul.
Love gave you a purpose, a name.
Love knows the number of hairs on your head and number of thoughts inside it.
Love knows your every secret, every victory, every tear, every chuckle, every sigh.

Love made you.
You see … Love is a Someone.

Sure, love is a word.
Love is an action.
Love is a feeling.

But above all else, Love is a Someone.

So I want to spend this month looking at some of my favorite stories about Love - the capital L kind - so that even you Valentine haters might find a reason to celebrate.

1 John 4:8, "God is Love."

So today, when you are stuck in traffic listening to a song about love, curled up on your couch watching a TV show about love, or watching the latest wedding proposal on Youtube that's gone viral, remember that you are loved by Love.

The capital L kind.

(taken from an excerpt in Love Is …  )