Great News! The FamilyLife edition of Generation Ex is finally available on Amazon.
Showing posts with label GE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label GE. Show all posts
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
My future in laws
Almost fifteen years ago I took a "retreat of silence"--a weekend away by myself to think about my life, reflect on some things and really ask God for direction. It was a very significant point in my life for several reasons.
First, I sensed God give me a life mission:
To establish a godly heritage
Second, I sensed God give me a vision for my life:
Third, in response to some counseling from my pastor, I did a LOT of reflecting on what marriage should and could be. Though my parents are wonderful people, they weren't able to show me how to marry well the first time. The main reason I feared marriage was that I feared failing at marriage. The only way I knew to avoid divorce was to avoid marriage. My pastor reminded me that God is my heavenly Father, and that if I let Him, He will help me to find and maintain a marriage that lasts. He encouraged me to create a list of qualities that I should look for in a future husband. When I went on my retreat of silence, I struggled to make this list. I realized that before I could ask God to bring me a worthy husband, I had to first figure out the qualities that would make me a worthy bride.
I ended up with a list of ten character qualities. From there, I was able to come up with ten character qualities for my future husband. While I did receive some well-natured ribbing for my list over the years, I found it to be a very helpful tool as I started dating with marriage in mind. First of all, by having ten qualities, it prevented me from dating just anyone. However, by having only ten qualities, it prevented me from being too picky. Most importantly, since the list contained character qualities--things a guy had some control over--it became my prayer list for my future husband all those years I wondered if he even existed.
I won't publish the list here, of course, because I won't show the list to my fiance until after we're married. But for the point I want to make today, I'll share one item:
HIS PARENTS OR ANOTHER COUPLE HAVE PROVIDED A MARRIAGE MODEL—A set of mentors to guide us to a joyful, godly marriage—Deuteronomy 4:9. If his parents are not married, I want to know that he has learned from their mistakes, sought to address the negative habits he may have inherited and has found an older couple to be mentors to him (3/7/99).
I've waited such a long time to marry, and now that I've met my Mr. Wonderful, I am so grateful to God for the wonderful way that He has provided even more than I would have hoped for. It took a long time because he had to first come to the States, and then meet God. And to have such awesome in-laws is a fabulous bonus. They are an amazing couple and I look forward to many more visits and opportunities to learn from the wisdom they have gained in their nearly 38 years of happy marriage.
First, I sensed God give me a life mission:
To establish a godly heritage
To make an eternal difference
To choose joy, regardless of my circumstances
Some years ago, I came to realize that even if I remain single, I can help others establish a godly heritage through my book, my support and my prayers for their marriages. Granted, I don't always make the right choices for the other two aspects, but having a life mission helps me guide my decision making more often than not.
Second, I sensed God give me a vision for my life:
I would write a book, marry and raise a child.
At the time, I had no interest in any of those things, so I really wondered where that thought came from. But over time, I saw the vision come to life: in 2004, my book was published, and now I know I'll marry in 2007, and now I believe that, in time, the last part will come to pass as well.
Third, in response to some counseling from my pastor, I did a LOT of reflecting on what marriage should and could be. Though my parents are wonderful people, they weren't able to show me how to marry well the first time. The main reason I feared marriage was that I feared failing at marriage. The only way I knew to avoid divorce was to avoid marriage. My pastor reminded me that God is my heavenly Father, and that if I let Him, He will help me to find and maintain a marriage that lasts. He encouraged me to create a list of qualities that I should look for in a future husband. When I went on my retreat of silence, I struggled to make this list. I realized that before I could ask God to bring me a worthy husband, I had to first figure out the qualities that would make me a worthy bride.
I ended up with a list of ten character qualities. From there, I was able to come up with ten character qualities for my future husband. While I did receive some well-natured ribbing for my list over the years, I found it to be a very helpful tool as I started dating with marriage in mind. First of all, by having ten qualities, it prevented me from dating just anyone. However, by having only ten qualities, it prevented me from being too picky. Most importantly, since the list contained character qualities--things a guy had some control over--it became my prayer list for my future husband all those years I wondered if he even existed.
I won't publish the list here, of course, because I won't show the list to my fiance until after we're married. But for the point I want to make today, I'll share one item:
HIS PARENTS OR ANOTHER COUPLE HAVE PROVIDED A MARRIAGE MODEL—A set of mentors to guide us to a joyful, godly marriage—Deuteronomy 4:9. If his parents are not married, I want to know that he has learned from their mistakes, sought to address the negative habits he may have inherited and has found an older couple to be mentors to him (3/7/99).
The point I was getting at with this item is that he has been intentional about finding wise counselors to help us, and is humble and teachable to seek out wisdom from others. Originally, I admit, I had a strong preference for someone whose parents weren't divorced. However, I had my heart broken by someone who said that he liked everything about me but it would be too difficult for him to handle the divorces in my family. I realized how hypocritcal it was for me to require something I couldn't provide myself, so I added the addendum.
All this background leads me to my thoughts today on my future in-laws, Jan & Kitty de Jong. Niels and I have been with them round the clock for nearly a week. I am overwhelmed with gratitude that God has provided me with such an amazing couple. Niels' Dad, Jan, got up at 5am to drive 90 minutes to meet us at the airport. He greeted me with a beautiful bouquet of real Dutch tulips and a three cheek kiss, Euro style. When we arrived at their home later that day, Niels' mom, Kitty, also greeted me warmly. They knew of my love for China, so they designed a beautiful necklace for me with the Chinese symbol for happiness, telling me how happy they were that Niels found me and that there only son was no longer alone in the States.
Over the last few days, I've come to appreciate both Niels and his parents better as I see how much they love life and each other. They are such a fun, affectionate couple, with a willingness to make sacrifices for the things that are really important. One of the most touching moments came when Jan brought Niels and I to his store. On the front window was a sign (in Dutch, of course, so Niels translated) stating that the store would be closed all week for important family business. I was so moved that his parents would sacrifice a week's pay to be able to spend time with me.
Of course, the highlight of the trip has been Niel's proposal in Paris. Again, Niels' parents were part of the occasion, driving with us and sharing hotel rooms with us. Best of all, they were able to take many beautiful pictures. As we walked back to our hotel fom dinner that night, I thought about how hard it must be for them to live so far away from their son. Niels told me that his dad is his best friend, and now I can easily see that it's true. I know that they will miss so many of our firsts, and even more of our everyday life, so it makes my heart smile that we were able to share our special engagement day with them alone.
All this background leads me to my thoughts today on my future in-laws, Jan & Kitty de Jong. Niels and I have been with them round the clock for nearly a week. I am overwhelmed with gratitude that God has provided me with such an amazing couple. Niels' Dad, Jan, got up at 5am to drive 90 minutes to meet us at the airport. He greeted me with a beautiful bouquet of real Dutch tulips and a three cheek kiss, Euro style. When we arrived at their home later that day, Niels' mom, Kitty, also greeted me warmly. They knew of my love for China, so they designed a beautiful necklace for me with the Chinese symbol for happiness, telling me how happy they were that Niels found me and that there only son was no longer alone in the States.
Over the last few days, I've come to appreciate both Niels and his parents better as I see how much they love life and each other. They are such a fun, affectionate couple, with a willingness to make sacrifices for the things that are really important. One of the most touching moments came when Jan brought Niels and I to his store. On the front window was a sign (in Dutch, of course, so Niels translated) stating that the store would be closed all week for important family business. I was so moved that his parents would sacrifice a week's pay to be able to spend time with me.
Of course, the highlight of the trip has been Niel's proposal in Paris. Again, Niels' parents were part of the occasion, driving with us and sharing hotel rooms with us. Best of all, they were able to take many beautiful pictures. As we walked back to our hotel fom dinner that night, I thought about how hard it must be for them to live so far away from their son. Niels told me that his dad is his best friend, and now I can easily see that it's true. I know that they will miss so many of our firsts, and even more of our everyday life, so it makes my heart smile that we were able to share our special engagement day with them alone.
I've waited such a long time to marry, and now that I've met my Mr. Wonderful, I am so grateful to God for the wonderful way that He has provided even more than I would have hoped for. It took a long time because he had to first come to the States, and then meet God. And to have such awesome in-laws is a fabulous bonus. They are an amazing couple and I look forward to many more visits and opportunities to learn from the wisdom they have gained in their nearly 38 years of happy marriage.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Making My Day
I am finally over my jetlag and laryngitis, and Niels and I have been keeping very busy. Last weekend we were in Canada where I was able to meet some of his friends. (In three weeks, we're off to Europe to meet his family and spend a few days in Paris!) It was a whirlwind trip, staying with one set of friends and meeting several others.
A highlight of the trip was meeting Gary, a friend who was instrumental in introducing Niels to Christ. Gary is a worship pastor at a church in Kitchener and though a series of events God crossed their paths over several years. The catalyst for Niels' interest in Christianity was visiting Gary's church and seeing how worship can be relevant and modern.
Over dinner, Gary shared a bit about how he had a discouraging day. We talked a bit about how so often God doesn't allow us to see how He uses us. In fact, more often than not, I think He is best able to use us when we aren't aware of His plans. As Gary shared, I thought how amazing Heaven will be for him as he learns of all the ways God quietly used his life to influence others.
Not long after, a Google alert popped up in my email. It's a blog post from a man who read my book, and how God used it spur him to make some changes in his life. I'm in a season when my writing in on a far back burner. It's frustrating at times, but the conversation with Gary, and this unknown man, offered great encouragement. God is at work, even when I think I'm not.
Check out this man's post, and if you feel led, please honor his request for prayer as he follows as God leads.
A highlight of the trip was meeting Gary, a friend who was instrumental in introducing Niels to Christ. Gary is a worship pastor at a church in Kitchener and though a series of events God crossed their paths over several years. The catalyst for Niels' interest in Christianity was visiting Gary's church and seeing how worship can be relevant and modern.
Over dinner, Gary shared a bit about how he had a discouraging day. We talked a bit about how so often God doesn't allow us to see how He uses us. In fact, more often than not, I think He is best able to use us when we aren't aware of His plans. As Gary shared, I thought how amazing Heaven will be for him as he learns of all the ways God quietly used his life to influence others.
Not long after, a Google alert popped up in my email. It's a blog post from a man who read my book, and how God used it spur him to make some changes in his life. I'm in a season when my writing in on a far back burner. It's frustrating at times, but the conversation with Gary, and this unknown man, offered great encouragement. God is at work, even when I think I'm not.
Check out this man's post, and if you feel led, please honor his request for prayer as he follows as God leads.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Erin
Happy Birthday, Erin!
I have a few books in the hopper. One of the ones I suspect will be contracted soon is the relationship book, Getting to I Do After Mom and Dad Said I Don't. The book is a follow-up, in some sense, to Generation Ex, in that it's the same general topic (the long-term effects of parental divorce). But this one will focus on the granddaddy of all effects, our ability to form healthy attachments, especially romantic ones.
At 34, in West Michigan especially, I find myself in an odd predicament. Folks around here tend to marry young, between 22-27. Friends who are my age, for the most part, are married and parents of between one and four children. I do have single friends as well, but the majority are between seven and ten years younger than me. To be honest, it's a challenge at times. I love my friends, but I feel a wall of dissimilarity between us at times, like I missed life's boat somewhere along the line and I'm the 30-year-old high school senior. We're created for community and I think we miss out on something vital when we don't have someone on the same point on the path with us.
I recently realized something about myself. I think I can handle most anything if I can visualize a way I can write about it later. When I can view my situation as research, I can redeem it. There's a lot of change coming up in my life. A lot of it is out of my control, but the thing I can control is my response to each change.
I've often wondered why God has allowed me to experience two parental divorces. It doesn't seem fair and it's certainly made my life much more difficult. The road to wholeness has had more than its share of bumps and bruises. But I am a writer, and thousands of people have, in reading my book, been encouraged because they found another person on the same point on the path of life. We are comforted because we are not alone.
I have often wondered why God has allowed relationships to be so difficult for me. (I'm not saying I'm a victim. I am becoming increasingly aware of the mistakes I've made and am making!). It's just that this is not what I expected my life to look like, relationally, at this point. But again, the redemption for me comes in the writing. I'm excited to write about this next chapter, and as much as I hate the reality of it,--and acknowledge that acknowledging I'm writing this book to any single guy is pretty much the kiss of death for dating that guy!--I have hope, too.
When I was writing Generation Ex, I had to get to a certain point in the healing process before I could write. In fact, I didn't realize this until I was writing. I didn't want to write as an expert or present myself as someone who totally had her stuff together. At the same time, I needed to feel that I had covered a little bit of territory. My editor (the brilliant Liz) showed amazing discernment to let me write out my thoughts. She knew I needed to write them out to process them, and I had to process them--in all their unfiltered glory--so I could get to the good stuff, the redemptive stuff. To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, my book is about 65,000 words. My first draft was 225,000!
In the same way, when it comes to Getting to I Do After Mom and Dad Said I Don't, I think there were a few emotional housekeeping tasks I had to take care of first before I could really say what needs to be said.
1. I had to lose my innocence. I don't mean this in a purity sense. Rather, there is a pervasive idea, especially in Christian circles, that marriage is something that just "happens," when the time is right. I'm not saying we should be obnoxious about dating or obsessive about our desires to be married, but we need to be active, even proactive (especially guys), at times. We don't tell the person who wants a job to sit on their duff and expect God to drop a job in their lap. We tell them to go to college, to get an internship, to network, to send out resumes, to make follow-up calls, go on interviews, send thank you notes. We don't tell the person wanting to dig out of debt to just keep doing what they're doing and wish and pray their way to debt-free living. No, we challenge them to cut back on expenses, make wise buying decisions, look for additional revenue, share expenses (like housing) with others. But when a single says he or she wants to get married, well-meaning folks say things like, "When you stop looking, it'll happen!" What?!? The sad thing is, I bought this lie hook, line and sinker. I barely gave marriage a thought before thirty. If anyone asked me why I was single (and you know they did), I said it was because God hadn't brought the right guy to me, or that I was focusing on my career, or that I was focused on other things. But I didn't take responsibility for the fact that I wasn't expanding my social circle, I wasn't letting people know what kind of guy I'd like to meet. I wasn't dating! Once I hit 30, I had a bit of startling revelation. Relationships don't just happen. That's also the age when friendships start changing to align more by stage of life than age of life. If I can make my career, my writing, my finances, and my faith a priority, I can certainly make relationships a priority, and I should be ashamed to do that. I had to take responsibility for the things I was doing--or not doing--to prevent me from meeting guys I would likely like.
2. God and I had to get real. I've been a Christian for fifteen years, and as time goes on, He reveals additional layers of His character to me. Gary Thomas' brilliant book, Sacred Marriage, rocked my world with its subtitle (and text): What if the purpose of marriage is to make us holy more than happy? What was extraordinarily freeing about this question was that I already knew marriage doesn't make us happy. It can, but when one person or two in a marriage make it the barometer of personal happiness, bad things happen. But, if marriage can be viewed also as a spiritual discipline--a means to draw closer to God and better reflect the character of God--I only needed to look at my own relationship with God to be confident that I was capable of marriage. (Before that, honestly, I avoided marriage to avoid divorce. I thought I was destined to repeat my parents' patterns). I could see that God and I had experienced relational extremes--times of intimacy and times of distance--but wherever we were at the moment, I knew our relationship was still permanent and we'd bounce back. That was a good first step. More recently, I've learned to have greater authenticity with God. Sure, before, I would share my frustrations with Him, but my perfectionistic complex prevented me from really being open. I would vent out my thoughts with some reserve, fearful that if I made God mad, He would maybe go away. Now I understand that God can handle my emotions. King David in the Bible let God have it more than once, and he was called a man after God's own heart. I want to want what God wants. And if David can be real, so can I. I'm not advocating regular shouting matches with God, mind you, I'm just saying that God can handle our anger, frustration, pain, disappointment and everything else. In fact, there's no One better to dump all that emotion on, so we can exchange it for something a bit more palatable (and helpful) for interacting with real people.
3. I had to get my heart broken. This is the one that really hurts. I had this optimistic hope that if I just "focused" on Jesus, that God would drop Mr. Wonderful in my life, and we would have this blissful courtship that would lead to marriage, free from doubts and disagreements. I wouldn't have to date a lot of different guys. The first guy would be the right guy, and we'd live happily ever after. Up til last year, I dated more with my head than my heart, so when things didn't work out, I could rationalize the reason. I liked him, but... Then this fall, I met an amazing guy who actually met and exceeded my list of ten character qualities. My friends liked him too, so the usual cautions and hesitations were gone. He pursued me, hard. I put up my usual walls and he busted them down, telling me exactly what I needed to hear. For once, I let my heart get involved. I could really see what life would be like with him, and for once, that--with all the challenges and adjustments it would require--was more desirable that what I had planned for myself. I liked him and he liked me. I had someone special in my life over what is usually the hardest part of the year--Christmas, New Years, my birthday, Valentines day...plus two weddings. It was wonderful. And then it ended. I don't get it. I don't like it. I don't understand it. But it is what it is. Over. And in my brokenness, I have been softened. Humbled. Ready to do the hard work of owning up the mistakes I've made, both with him and with others. Ready to fine tune the parts of me that tune out the kind of guy I want to marry. Funny, I thought I'd be getting married this fall. Instead I'll be writing about it. Redemption, I hope.
All this brings me back to Erin. She's been an amazing sounding board (if not a reluctant one, at times). She drags me out of my house to play golf, disc golf, Catan, go to the local Improv show, or just get out. She helps me celebrate the progress I can't always see. And because she's younger than me, she inspires me. She's learning these lessons now, at 27, so she won't be the slow learner that I have been. Redemption, I hope.
Happy birthday, Erin!
I have a few books in the hopper. One of the ones I suspect will be contracted soon is the relationship book, Getting to I Do After Mom and Dad Said I Don't. The book is a follow-up, in some sense, to Generation Ex, in that it's the same general topic (the long-term effects of parental divorce). But this one will focus on the granddaddy of all effects, our ability to form healthy attachments, especially romantic ones.
At 34, in West Michigan especially, I find myself in an odd predicament. Folks around here tend to marry young, between 22-27. Friends who are my age, for the most part, are married and parents of between one and four children. I do have single friends as well, but the majority are between seven and ten years younger than me. To be honest, it's a challenge at times. I love my friends, but I feel a wall of dissimilarity between us at times, like I missed life's boat somewhere along the line and I'm the 30-year-old high school senior. We're created for community and I think we miss out on something vital when we don't have someone on the same point on the path with us.
I recently realized something about myself. I think I can handle most anything if I can visualize a way I can write about it later. When I can view my situation as research, I can redeem it. There's a lot of change coming up in my life. A lot of it is out of my control, but the thing I can control is my response to each change.
I've often wondered why God has allowed me to experience two parental divorces. It doesn't seem fair and it's certainly made my life much more difficult. The road to wholeness has had more than its share of bumps and bruises. But I am a writer, and thousands of people have, in reading my book, been encouraged because they found another person on the same point on the path of life. We are comforted because we are not alone.
I have often wondered why God has allowed relationships to be so difficult for me. (I'm not saying I'm a victim. I am becoming increasingly aware of the mistakes I've made and am making!). It's just that this is not what I expected my life to look like, relationally, at this point. But again, the redemption for me comes in the writing. I'm excited to write about this next chapter, and as much as I hate the reality of it,--and acknowledge that acknowledging I'm writing this book to any single guy is pretty much the kiss of death for dating that guy!--I have hope, too.
When I was writing Generation Ex, I had to get to a certain point in the healing process before I could write. In fact, I didn't realize this until I was writing. I didn't want to write as an expert or present myself as someone who totally had her stuff together. At the same time, I needed to feel that I had covered a little bit of territory. My editor (the brilliant Liz) showed amazing discernment to let me write out my thoughts. She knew I needed to write them out to process them, and I had to process them--in all their unfiltered glory--so I could get to the good stuff, the redemptive stuff. To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, my book is about 65,000 words. My first draft was 225,000!
In the same way, when it comes to Getting to I Do After Mom and Dad Said I Don't, I think there were a few emotional housekeeping tasks I had to take care of first before I could really say what needs to be said.
1. I had to lose my innocence. I don't mean this in a purity sense. Rather, there is a pervasive idea, especially in Christian circles, that marriage is something that just "happens," when the time is right. I'm not saying we should be obnoxious about dating or obsessive about our desires to be married, but we need to be active, even proactive (especially guys), at times. We don't tell the person who wants a job to sit on their duff and expect God to drop a job in their lap. We tell them to go to college, to get an internship, to network, to send out resumes, to make follow-up calls, go on interviews, send thank you notes. We don't tell the person wanting to dig out of debt to just keep doing what they're doing and wish and pray their way to debt-free living. No, we challenge them to cut back on expenses, make wise buying decisions, look for additional revenue, share expenses (like housing) with others. But when a single says he or she wants to get married, well-meaning folks say things like, "When you stop looking, it'll happen!" What?!? The sad thing is, I bought this lie hook, line and sinker. I barely gave marriage a thought before thirty. If anyone asked me why I was single (and you know they did), I said it was because God hadn't brought the right guy to me, or that I was focusing on my career, or that I was focused on other things. But I didn't take responsibility for the fact that I wasn't expanding my social circle, I wasn't letting people know what kind of guy I'd like to meet. I wasn't dating! Once I hit 30, I had a bit of startling revelation. Relationships don't just happen. That's also the age when friendships start changing to align more by stage of life than age of life. If I can make my career, my writing, my finances, and my faith a priority, I can certainly make relationships a priority, and I should be ashamed to do that. I had to take responsibility for the things I was doing--or not doing--to prevent me from meeting guys I would likely like.
2. God and I had to get real. I've been a Christian for fifteen years, and as time goes on, He reveals additional layers of His character to me. Gary Thomas' brilliant book, Sacred Marriage, rocked my world with its subtitle (and text): What if the purpose of marriage is to make us holy more than happy? What was extraordinarily freeing about this question was that I already knew marriage doesn't make us happy. It can, but when one person or two in a marriage make it the barometer of personal happiness, bad things happen. But, if marriage can be viewed also as a spiritual discipline--a means to draw closer to God and better reflect the character of God--I only needed to look at my own relationship with God to be confident that I was capable of marriage. (Before that, honestly, I avoided marriage to avoid divorce. I thought I was destined to repeat my parents' patterns). I could see that God and I had experienced relational extremes--times of intimacy and times of distance--but wherever we were at the moment, I knew our relationship was still permanent and we'd bounce back. That was a good first step. More recently, I've learned to have greater authenticity with God. Sure, before, I would share my frustrations with Him, but my perfectionistic complex prevented me from really being open. I would vent out my thoughts with some reserve, fearful that if I made God mad, He would maybe go away. Now I understand that God can handle my emotions. King David in the Bible let God have it more than once, and he was called a man after God's own heart. I want to want what God wants. And if David can be real, so can I. I'm not advocating regular shouting matches with God, mind you, I'm just saying that God can handle our anger, frustration, pain, disappointment and everything else. In fact, there's no One better to dump all that emotion on, so we can exchange it for something a bit more palatable (and helpful) for interacting with real people.
3. I had to get my heart broken. This is the one that really hurts. I had this optimistic hope that if I just "focused" on Jesus, that God would drop Mr. Wonderful in my life, and we would have this blissful courtship that would lead to marriage, free from doubts and disagreements. I wouldn't have to date a lot of different guys. The first guy would be the right guy, and we'd live happily ever after. Up til last year, I dated more with my head than my heart, so when things didn't work out, I could rationalize the reason. I liked him, but... Then this fall, I met an amazing guy who actually met and exceeded my list of ten character qualities. My friends liked him too, so the usual cautions and hesitations were gone. He pursued me, hard. I put up my usual walls and he busted them down, telling me exactly what I needed to hear. For once, I let my heart get involved. I could really see what life would be like with him, and for once, that--with all the challenges and adjustments it would require--was more desirable that what I had planned for myself. I liked him and he liked me. I had someone special in my life over what is usually the hardest part of the year--Christmas, New Years, my birthday, Valentines day...plus two weddings. It was wonderful. And then it ended. I don't get it. I don't like it. I don't understand it. But it is what it is. Over. And in my brokenness, I have been softened. Humbled. Ready to do the hard work of owning up the mistakes I've made, both with him and with others. Ready to fine tune the parts of me that tune out the kind of guy I want to marry. Funny, I thought I'd be getting married this fall. Instead I'll be writing about it. Redemption, I hope.
All this brings me back to Erin. She's been an amazing sounding board (if not a reluctant one, at times). She drags me out of my house to play golf, disc golf, Catan, go to the local Improv show, or just get out. She helps me celebrate the progress I can't always see. And because she's younger than me, she inspires me. She's learning these lessons now, at 27, so she won't be the slow learner that I have been. Redemption, I hope.
Happy birthday, Erin!
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Greeting Cards for Generation Ex
The article was sent to me on today's Smart Marriages list. What's interesting to me is that while I'm not crazy about the idea that there is a need for these cards...the reality is that there IS. As someone who doesn't have a family tree, but a family bush, card shopping is usually a challenging task. My parents have made their mistakes (haven't we all?) but the sentiments of far too many cards just don't quite fit. And then I have steps and halves and even step-steps. I don't want to ignore these family members, but how do I get card for a brother who didn't become my brother until I was teen? I'm not a fan of "Congratulations on your divorce" cards, but I certainly hope that greeting card companies become more sensitive to the needs of kids (of all ages) who are simply trying to find a card appropriate for life as they know it.
Telegraph News Happy divorce/remarriage/lovechild: what greetings cards say about the way we live now
Telegraph News Happy divorce/remarriage/lovechild: what greetings cards say about the way we live now
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Introduction to Generation Ex
It occurred to me that, depending on how you found this blog, some of you may not be familiar with my book, Generation Ex: Adult Children of Divorce and the Healing of Our Pain. There's a ton of information at my site: www.JenAbbas.com. Or, you can read an excerpt here. I wrote the book in part because I couldn't find a book that address the long term effects of divorce, specifically how parental divorce affects our relationships and our own marriages. There are still woefully few resources on the topic. In the meantime, here are a few others I recommend:
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Grasping Grace
God is strange. Every time I think I get a grasp on grace, He amazes me. Last week is a great example. It was a discouraging week on the surface, and as a result I have some re-evaluating to do of things I've assumed and taken for granted. Death of a dream stuff. Hard stuff for the heart. But then, I go to small group and one of the couples shares with me how something I said helped get their marriage through a rough patch. So crazy...I would love to be married, to be involved in marriage ministry of some sort, to use what I've learned and experienced to help a generation raised on divorce to have great marriages...and yet I can't even get a second date! And just went I'm discouraged about that, someone I respect tells me that I've had a positive effect on her marriage. The irony.
Maybe that's just it, maybe my dream for influencing marriages is something that I'm meant to do as a single. It's certainly not my first choice, but then, the Catholics don't seem to have an issue with single priests ministering to engaged and married couples. It just seems that a person has more credibility when they are speaking from experience rather than theory. Frustrating though, because on one hand, I can't make someone chose me, and at the same time, I don't know how to move forward with my dream alone. And that's when God's grace steps in.
This week, in addition to the encouragement at small group, I received a book from a woman who cited Generation Ex in her new book, When Your Marriage Dies. Laura's book is for spouses stuck on the wrong side of no-fault divorce. God's grace is demonstrated again in the way my book has been embraced by divorced parents.
The last bit of unexpected encouragement I want to share with you has to do with another new book. Jesse Butterworth was the lead singer of a band called Daily Planet when I met him a few weeks back. His song, "Six String Rocketeer" does a wonderful job of showing how children of divorce can escape into a hobby (music for him, writing for me) as a way of coping with the pressures and stress of parental divorce. (You can read the lyrics to SSR at my site). Jesse has now written a memoir based on the song and I was asked to endorse it. I get a bit frustrated when I go to sites or see authors only promote their own work, as if any one person can get a complete handle on a topic. So I was happy to see another child of divorce get his voice out there. As soon as the manuscript arrived, I jumped in. Jesse is a vivid writer and reading his manuscript was a emotional experience for me. He does a wonderful job of bringing those emotions to the surface, even as he revisits them through the objective eyes of an adult. As I was reading I started thinking of how to craft my (first!) endorsement. And then I got to the end. The original conclusion was misleading, I thought, and to endorse the book as it was would be to contradict one of the major points of my books. I felt stuck. I really wanted to support Jesse's book, but wasn't sure how to do so without being a hypocrite to my own views. So I wrote a letter to the publisher, sharing my concerns and offering a couple of solutions. She wrote me back, very graciously, and thanked me for reading the manuscript, even if I couldn't endorsement. End of topic...or so I thought.
She forwarded my email to Jesse's editor, who in turn, forwarded it to Jesse. I am humbled that Jesse took my concerns to heart. Jesse and I emailed a few times and he made a few tweaks that I believe will make his book more powerful and effective to his readers. So mark your calendars, folks, Six String Rocketeer by Jesse Butterworth is coming to a store near you this September, with this endorsement:
As a child of divorce, Jesse’s song, “Six String Rocketeer,” is on the soundtrack of my life. Now with his book, Jesse has crafted a poignant memoir, introducing readers to the important first step of acknowledging that parental divorce has lasting effects. His gracious approach and discerning insights invite readers to visit his past, and in the process, better understand their own.
-Jen Abbas, author of Generation Ex: Adult Children of Divorce and the Healing of Our Pain.
Maybe that's just it, maybe my dream for influencing marriages is something that I'm meant to do as a single. It's certainly not my first choice, but then, the Catholics don't seem to have an issue with single priests ministering to engaged and married couples. It just seems that a person has more credibility when they are speaking from experience rather than theory. Frustrating though, because on one hand, I can't make someone chose me, and at the same time, I don't know how to move forward with my dream alone. And that's when God's grace steps in.
This week, in addition to the encouragement at small group, I received a book from a woman who cited Generation Ex in her new book, When Your Marriage Dies. Laura's book is for spouses stuck on the wrong side of no-fault divorce. God's grace is demonstrated again in the way my book has been embraced by divorced parents.
The last bit of unexpected encouragement I want to share with you has to do with another new book. Jesse Butterworth was the lead singer of a band called Daily Planet when I met him a few weeks back. His song, "Six String Rocketeer" does a wonderful job of showing how children of divorce can escape into a hobby (music for him, writing for me) as a way of coping with the pressures and stress of parental divorce. (You can read the lyrics to SSR at my site). Jesse has now written a memoir based on the song and I was asked to endorse it. I get a bit frustrated when I go to sites or see authors only promote their own work, as if any one person can get a complete handle on a topic. So I was happy to see another child of divorce get his voice out there. As soon as the manuscript arrived, I jumped in. Jesse is a vivid writer and reading his manuscript was a emotional experience for me. He does a wonderful job of bringing those emotions to the surface, even as he revisits them through the objective eyes of an adult. As I was reading I started thinking of how to craft my (first!) endorsement. And then I got to the end. The original conclusion was misleading, I thought, and to endorse the book as it was would be to contradict one of the major points of my books. I felt stuck. I really wanted to support Jesse's book, but wasn't sure how to do so without being a hypocrite to my own views. So I wrote a letter to the publisher, sharing my concerns and offering a couple of solutions. She wrote me back, very graciously, and thanked me for reading the manuscript, even if I couldn't endorsement. End of topic...or so I thought.
She forwarded my email to Jesse's editor, who in turn, forwarded it to Jesse. I am humbled that Jesse took my concerns to heart. Jesse and I emailed a few times and he made a few tweaks that I believe will make his book more powerful and effective to his readers. So mark your calendars, folks, Six String Rocketeer by Jesse Butterworth is coming to a store near you this September, with this endorsement:
As a child of divorce, Jesse’s song, “Six String Rocketeer,” is on the soundtrack of my life. Now with his book, Jesse has crafted a poignant memoir, introducing readers to the important first step of acknowledging that parental divorce has lasting effects. His gracious approach and discerning insights invite readers to visit his past, and in the process, better understand their own.
-Jen Abbas, author of Generation Ex: Adult Children of Divorce and the Healing of Our Pain.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Generation Ex Scholarship Essay Contest Winner!
Generation Ex turned one year old last week.
To celebrate, I announced that Anna Dolezal, a senior at Drake University, is the winner of The Generation Ex Scholarship Essay Contest! Anna's essay will be posted on the website shortly (my webmaster is on vacation, lucky guy!). But you can get your first look here! CONGRATULATIONS ANNA!
Working Title: The Sleeper Effect
The scene opens in my memory. It is Christmas Day. My brother has just opened his last gift, and the two of us are smiling and eager to play with our new treasures. In my memory, my parents are holding hands, clinging to each other, as if they could provide each other with strength, a particularly ironic sentiment given the circumstance. I see the carpet very vividly, the ugly black, red, yellow and white shag carpet that would have been intolerable had it not represented home. It has sound, too, crystal clear despite the years. Mom says, “Damon, Anna, we have something important we want to tell you. Your father and I are getting a divorce.”
Fade to black.
Oh, how the magician in my brain has deceived me.
It wasn’t Christmas at all, and my mom tells me that she thinks they told me in my bedroom (adorned with white and blue carpet). The fact is that even though I was seven when my parents decided to divorce, and eight when the divorce was finalized (my dad remarried days later and my half-sister born just weeks after the legal formalities), I don’t remember it at all.
I don’t remember crying. I don’t remember moving, or the first time that I met my stepmom. And I don’t remember anything at all about my parents’ relationship before they got divorced. I don’t remember if they were affectionate with each other, nor remember them fighting. It is as if someone has erased the tape. I do remember chewing bubble gum with my best friend on the stairs of my childhood home. I remember the feeling of having a cat fall asleep in my arms, and thinking how much that creature trusted me. Your parents relationship isn’t important to a child. Until it is gone. I don’t remember understanding.
In a new house, at new school, with a scrambled memory, life as I know it began. In my new elementary school, residing in a working class neighborhood with plenty of newly made single mothers, it seemed to my third grade mentality that there were two kinds of kids; those with divorced parents, and the lucky ones. I belonged to the former.
But at least in elementary school it was standard stuff to have divorced parents. The pervasive normality of it is, I believe, why I never really questioned it and why I never felt that it was worthy of grief. As a youngster, I didn’t make a conscious choice to set out to show everyone how “okay” I was, but that was the result. Everyone marveled at my ability to be so “well-adjusted” at such a young age.
The tape rolled on, capturing the moments of my life: Middle school, high school, college. Reviewing the footage, the every-other-weekend-and-Wednesday-night crowd, slowly disappeared from the action. What happened to those kids that I went to elementary school with? They became statistics of the effect of divorce on children while I took the world by storm. Speech competitions, show choir, sports, academic achievement, a slew of friends, scholarships, and a precarious peace with all the members of my family.
The images show how it looked, but never how it felt.
The sleeper effect. I never had a name for it until reading Generation Ex, but it is the definition of my story, the working title to my life.
I prefer to work alone. Independence should be my first name. Do I trust people? About as far as I can throw them (I’m a pretty little person, so that doesn’t amount to far). Perfectionist, controlling, I have little faith in anything I can’t do myself. You act confidently so people won’t see your fear.
And I am so afraid.
I am afraid of ending up alone, afraid that as all those around me find happiness, I will look in my hands and find they are empty. I am afraid of being abandoned. I question how God could have let these things happen to my mother. I saw my mom feel alone and abandoned and lose faith and it hurt. It still hurts. Typical of a child of divorce, I feel the parental need to make my mom’s pain go away, and hope that maybe it would make mine dissipate as well.
But I don’t want to live in fear anymore; I want to rename my story.
I grew up, like most American children, on fairy tales. I grew up with Hollywood and Disney - ninety minute rollercoasters of emotion with a happy ending. We like our endings larger than life, want to go through hell and live to tell the tale. We want to be bruised, but not broken. I wish my life was a fairy tale, or even a Hollywood blockbuster, but perhaps it is an Indie film. There are lose ends, and questions left unanswered, and even dark endings.
I would love to write that reading this book has helped me figure it all out, has made me a better person, and helped me grieve. I would like to be able to write the picture perfect ending -that I have found peace in my faith, trust in God’s plan, and recognition that marriages are never perfect, that faith is essential - and now everything is roses and rainbows. While it is true I’m making progress, unfortunately, I can’t yet yell “that’s a wrap”.
For the truth is, I still am afraid.
But every day, through growing faith, patience, and trust, I am a little less.
And the reels are still rolling.
To celebrate, I announced that Anna Dolezal, a senior at Drake University, is the winner of The Generation Ex Scholarship Essay Contest! Anna's essay will be posted on the website shortly (my webmaster is on vacation, lucky guy!). But you can get your first look here! CONGRATULATIONS ANNA!
Working Title: The Sleeper Effect
The scene opens in my memory. It is Christmas Day. My brother has just opened his last gift, and the two of us are smiling and eager to play with our new treasures. In my memory, my parents are holding hands, clinging to each other, as if they could provide each other with strength, a particularly ironic sentiment given the circumstance. I see the carpet very vividly, the ugly black, red, yellow and white shag carpet that would have been intolerable had it not represented home. It has sound, too, crystal clear despite the years. Mom says, “Damon, Anna, we have something important we want to tell you. Your father and I are getting a divorce.”
Fade to black.
Oh, how the magician in my brain has deceived me.
It wasn’t Christmas at all, and my mom tells me that she thinks they told me in my bedroom (adorned with white and blue carpet). The fact is that even though I was seven when my parents decided to divorce, and eight when the divorce was finalized (my dad remarried days later and my half-sister born just weeks after the legal formalities), I don’t remember it at all.
I don’t remember crying. I don’t remember moving, or the first time that I met my stepmom. And I don’t remember anything at all about my parents’ relationship before they got divorced. I don’t remember if they were affectionate with each other, nor remember them fighting. It is as if someone has erased the tape. I do remember chewing bubble gum with my best friend on the stairs of my childhood home. I remember the feeling of having a cat fall asleep in my arms, and thinking how much that creature trusted me. Your parents relationship isn’t important to a child. Until it is gone. I don’t remember understanding.
In a new house, at new school, with a scrambled memory, life as I know it began. In my new elementary school, residing in a working class neighborhood with plenty of newly made single mothers, it seemed to my third grade mentality that there were two kinds of kids; those with divorced parents, and the lucky ones. I belonged to the former.
But at least in elementary school it was standard stuff to have divorced parents. The pervasive normality of it is, I believe, why I never really questioned it and why I never felt that it was worthy of grief. As a youngster, I didn’t make a conscious choice to set out to show everyone how “okay” I was, but that was the result. Everyone marveled at my ability to be so “well-adjusted” at such a young age.
The tape rolled on, capturing the moments of my life: Middle school, high school, college. Reviewing the footage, the every-other-weekend-and-Wednesday-night crowd, slowly disappeared from the action. What happened to those kids that I went to elementary school with? They became statistics of the effect of divorce on children while I took the world by storm. Speech competitions, show choir, sports, academic achievement, a slew of friends, scholarships, and a precarious peace with all the members of my family.
The images show how it looked, but never how it felt.
The sleeper effect. I never had a name for it until reading Generation Ex, but it is the definition of my story, the working title to my life.
I prefer to work alone. Independence should be my first name. Do I trust people? About as far as I can throw them (I’m a pretty little person, so that doesn’t amount to far). Perfectionist, controlling, I have little faith in anything I can’t do myself. You act confidently so people won’t see your fear.
And I am so afraid.
I am afraid of ending up alone, afraid that as all those around me find happiness, I will look in my hands and find they are empty. I am afraid of being abandoned. I question how God could have let these things happen to my mother. I saw my mom feel alone and abandoned and lose faith and it hurt. It still hurts. Typical of a child of divorce, I feel the parental need to make my mom’s pain go away, and hope that maybe it would make mine dissipate as well.
But I don’t want to live in fear anymore; I want to rename my story.
I grew up, like most American children, on fairy tales. I grew up with Hollywood and Disney - ninety minute rollercoasters of emotion with a happy ending. We like our endings larger than life, want to go through hell and live to tell the tale. We want to be bruised, but not broken. I wish my life was a fairy tale, or even a Hollywood blockbuster, but perhaps it is an Indie film. There are lose ends, and questions left unanswered, and even dark endings.
I would love to write that reading this book has helped me figure it all out, has made me a better person, and helped me grieve. I would like to be able to write the picture perfect ending -that I have found peace in my faith, trust in God’s plan, and recognition that marriages are never perfect, that faith is essential - and now everything is roses and rainbows. While it is true I’m making progress, unfortunately, I can’t yet yell “that’s a wrap”.
For the truth is, I still am afraid.
But every day, through growing faith, patience, and trust, I am a little less.
And the reels are still rolling.
The Book
For those who stumbled upon this site, Generation Ex: Adult Children of Divorce and the Healing of Our Pain, released last year from WaterBrook Press. You can learn more about the book, read an excerpt, and more at my website.
Jen's Jottings
It's been just over a year since my book, Generation Ex, released. For quite some time, I've wanted to find a way to pass along articles and news that my readers might enjoy, as well as create an easy (quick!)way to post the latest news about my book. And like most bloggers, I like the idea of being able to share my thought with friends (both known and unknown). So without further ado...here's Generation Ex Files.
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
The End
My grampa and gramma have been together nearly seventy years. Seventy years! Can our generation even conceive of such commitment? Of course, they weren't all blissful years. My grandparents weathered war and trauma and heartbreak. Their marriage wasn't always a model of domestic peace and tranquillity. But in the end, what a beautiful love story! Anyone can love when their lover is lovable, but true love—really remarkable love—is when someone loves another with all they have, knowing that the object of their affection hasn't anything to give in return. In the seven years since my Grampa's heart started failing, my Gramma has become an incredible model of unconditional love to our family as she cared for him, cleaned up after him, laughed with him in his better moments, and yes, loved him.
In recent years, I've developed a fascination with the 40s. I've read Tom Brokaw's The Greatest Generation and I'm working through Larry King's Love Stories from World War II. Louis Armstrong, Etta James and Ella Fitzgerald have made their way into my CD collection. This Christmas, Bing Crosby joined them. I'm not saying I wish the world would revert back to the 40s, but I can't help but admire the mindset of a generation that valued commitment, honor and keeping one's word. I love watching old classic movies when men and women interact issues with a sort of gentle respect and reserve that is unheard of today. And as a traditional sort myself, I love the chivalry that men showed women in their courting rituals. How many children of divorce look with longing at the marriages of their grandparents as the model our mothers and fathers missed?
I wonder, how have we, as a society, moved from The Greatest Generation to Generation Ex? I was telling a friend about the premise of my book and he made an insightful observation. He said that the sexual revolution of the 60s was a rebellion against the institution of marriage; our generation is rebelling against the institution of divorce. Where the 60s saw people live together for free love, our generation is living together because "I can't get divorced if I don't get married."
For those of us whose spiritual convictions prevent us from acting on our urges, our sexual desires pull us in opposite directions. We don't want to marry too young—our very lives are reminders of our parents' unwise decisions. Yet our fear of failing at marriage can also prevent us from taking the plunge even when the water's as warm as it can be.
I've read recently that the fastest growing area of counseling is marital counseling for newlyweds. Those of us who grew up with divorce—either as children or adults—want to be proactive to keep our marriages strong. Just as we regularly take our cars to the shop for preventative maintenance, we are painfully aware that without intentionality, our marriages can break down unexpectedly. I'm starting to think I have another book in me. Maybe it's just for me, the way Generation Ex began as my own personal project. I'd like to write about the romance trigger. If divorce, by definition, is the breakdown of a marriage, then it must be that the greatest point of impact on the children affected by divorce is our own marriages. My working title is Generation Ex and the Quest for Love: Getting to I Do after Mom and Dad Said I Don't. I have several chapters that didn't make the Generation Ex cut. Chapters on why we wait and why we maybe should. Chapters on learning from our parents' past and how to recognize a good marriage partner. I'd love to hear from you. If you're single, how has your parents' divorce affected your dating life—or lack thereof? If you're married, how did the divorce influence your courtship story?
In memory of Leo "Moose" Manthei
June 13, 1919 - January 13, 2004
Tuesday, April 29, 2003
A Word On Fear
I've been thinking a lot about fear lately. To be honest, thinking isn't the right word. Motivated by fear might be better…or paralyzed. Fear of the future. Fear of the unknown. Fear of rejection. Fear of failure. Fear of not being in control. I have come to realize that I have a lot of fears. As my 30th birthday has come and gone, I fear I'll never marry. Or if I do, that I will fail at it. I fear I'll never be a size six. I fear I'll let down my friends, family, church, fill-in-the-blank. I fear I'll let God down. This book has brought about many fears: I'm afraid my book won't be published. I'm afraid that if it does, no one will buy it. Or if they do, only from the bargain bin, and not from the best-seller display. I fear talking about it because some might not like what I have to say. I fear not talking about it because God has given me much to say.
I've been thinking how the experience of divorce has filled so many of us with fear. We fear because the ones who were supposed to demonstrate to us that love is an unconditional choice showed us that it is a fleeting, fickle feeling. We fear because we desperately desire to construct that which we have yet to experience and we easily doubt the adequacy of our materials. We fear because the risk it takes to be vulnerable and loved means intentionally allowing someone the freedom to hurt us, and we have experienced enough hurt to last our lifetime. We fear because we don't want to be the one responsible for making our own children feel what we felt. We fear because if we divorce, we become all we've lived our lives to avoid. We fear because we mistakenly believe that God is not capable of holding our marriage together when we lack the strength or desire to do so ourselves. We fear because we are placing our trust in our own abilities, when we serve a God who requires that we must acknowledge our utter inability to control our circumstances.
But you know what I'm realizing? Fear is self-centered. Fear is not trusting that God is in control. Fear is not having faith. I seem to recall that God is in control. Jeremiah 29:11-12 says: "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you," declares the Lord, "and will bring you back from captivity." (NIV). I seem to recall that God has a plan that makes sense to Him, even when it doesn't make sense to me. I recall that Romans 8:28 promises that "…we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" (NIV). You know what else I recall? My weaknesses often serve as a backtop to display his strengths. 2 Corinthians 4:7 explains, "But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us." (NIV). Imagine a pitcher filled with water. When the pitcher is perfect, the pitcher is all one sees. But if that pitcher were to be slashed with a knife, the water would flow out, making the water the focus. Only in our imperfections, our failures, does God's grace and mercy become clear.
That still doesn't keep me from striving from perfection. I am comforted by the fact that the apostle Paul struggled with this too. He wrote in Philippians 3:12-13, "Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead" (NIV). No matter what our fear, we need to realize that is only through God that we can do anything worthwhile. As 2 Corinthians 3:5 says, "not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God." (NIV). Nonetheless, I want to be perfect. The world tells me that if I am perfect, I am then worthy of love and acceptance. Never mind that it's impossible. Never mind that my worthiness of love has nothing to do with my abilities or accomplishments. I am worthy of love because God loves me.
I John 4:18 builds on this point. "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears in not made perfect in love (NIV)". Doesn't that make your head spin?! I know I'm not perfect, but I also know that God loves me. Perfect love is divine. It is an attribute of God. Fear is one of Satan's greatest weapons. He can't take away our salvation, but he can try to take away our effectiveness. If we dwell on our fears, we are forfeiting our ability to be used of God. God has filled me with a passion to write this book. If God has purposed me to do this work, than how can I not succeed?
No matter if I fail.
God loves me.
No matter if others reject me.
God loves me.
No matter if I mess up.
God loves me.
No matter if let others down.
God loves me.
No matter…
God loves me.
Excuse me, I have some writing to do.
© Jen Abbas, 2003
I've been thinking how the experience of divorce has filled so many of us with fear. We fear because the ones who were supposed to demonstrate to us that love is an unconditional choice showed us that it is a fleeting, fickle feeling. We fear because we desperately desire to construct that which we have yet to experience and we easily doubt the adequacy of our materials. We fear because the risk it takes to be vulnerable and loved means intentionally allowing someone the freedom to hurt us, and we have experienced enough hurt to last our lifetime. We fear because we don't want to be the one responsible for making our own children feel what we felt. We fear because if we divorce, we become all we've lived our lives to avoid. We fear because we mistakenly believe that God is not capable of holding our marriage together when we lack the strength or desire to do so ourselves. We fear because we are placing our trust in our own abilities, when we serve a God who requires that we must acknowledge our utter inability to control our circumstances.
But you know what I'm realizing? Fear is self-centered. Fear is not trusting that God is in control. Fear is not having faith. I seem to recall that God is in control. Jeremiah 29:11-12 says: "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you," declares the Lord, "and will bring you back from captivity." (NIV). I seem to recall that God has a plan that makes sense to Him, even when it doesn't make sense to me. I recall that Romans 8:28 promises that "…we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" (NIV). You know what else I recall? My weaknesses often serve as a backtop to display his strengths. 2 Corinthians 4:7 explains, "But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us." (NIV). Imagine a pitcher filled with water. When the pitcher is perfect, the pitcher is all one sees. But if that pitcher were to be slashed with a knife, the water would flow out, making the water the focus. Only in our imperfections, our failures, does God's grace and mercy become clear.
That still doesn't keep me from striving from perfection. I am comforted by the fact that the apostle Paul struggled with this too. He wrote in Philippians 3:12-13, "Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead" (NIV). No matter what our fear, we need to realize that is only through God that we can do anything worthwhile. As 2 Corinthians 3:5 says, "not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God." (NIV). Nonetheless, I want to be perfect. The world tells me that if I am perfect, I am then worthy of love and acceptance. Never mind that it's impossible. Never mind that my worthiness of love has nothing to do with my abilities or accomplishments. I am worthy of love because God loves me.
I John 4:18 builds on this point. "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears in not made perfect in love (NIV)". Doesn't that make your head spin?! I know I'm not perfect, but I also know that God loves me. Perfect love is divine. It is an attribute of God. Fear is one of Satan's greatest weapons. He can't take away our salvation, but he can try to take away our effectiveness. If we dwell on our fears, we are forfeiting our ability to be used of God. God has filled me with a passion to write this book. If God has purposed me to do this work, than how can I not succeed?
No matter if I fail.
God loves me.
No matter if others reject me.
God loves me.
No matter if I mess up.
God loves me.
No matter if let others down.
God loves me.
No matter…
God loves me.
Excuse me, I have some writing to do.
© Jen Abbas, 2003
Thursday, February 06, 2003
A Word on Trust
2/6/03 (A word on trust…a peek into Jen's journal)
Today I found out that a friend of mine from Iowa moved to Grand Rapids. It got me thinking about all that God has brought me through in the last six years. I'm in such a wonderful place spiritual and otherwise now, that I forget sometimes the hard path it took to get here. Here's a look back at the harder days…
August 22, 1997
I really struggle with trusting God sometimes. I suppose that I could blame it on the insecurity of going through two divorces growing up, but I am a child of God now, and I know He will never leave me nor forsake me. Does that mean He will never frustrate me? No. Lead me down a very quiet and still (read: lonely) path? No. Does that mean that as a Christian, I won't have to struggle anymore? No, no, of course not. I know this, but sometimes it's really hard to accept it, believe it, really feel it.
I forget sometimes that God's best may not fit with my desires. I forget that I am the created, not the creator. I forget that I accepted Jesus as my Lord, not just my Savior. And I forget that I can't possibly understand all the great complexities of His way. However, that never stops me from trying, from wanting to think I can figure it all out. I think for me, understanding, or at least having an explanation, helps me accept the difficult consequences of following where Christ leads me.
Right now, He has led me to a small town in Iowa-away from the city I love, the friends I cherish, the church home I finally found, the small group I need, and my dream for my life. I don't know why I'm here. I can come up with a thousand possibilities, but God has never spoken to me in an audible voice and said, "Jen, THIS is why I brought you here." And I don't think He will. Instead, I think He simply wants me to obey Him and be willing to be used for all the reasons He has me here. I don't think He wants me to cling to my desire to return to Wisconsin-it may very well be His plan for later, but not for now. I think He wants me to see my life through His eyes. But you know, it's awfully hard to see a vision of eternity when your eyes are blurry from the tears of today.
Psalm 61:1-3 has become my prayer during these tough times:
Hear my cry, O God
listen to my prayer.
From the end of the earth I call to you,
I call as my heart grows faint;
lead me to the rock that is higher than I,
For you have been my refuge,
a strong tower against the foe.
I love that line, "Lead me to the rock that is higher than I." David knew lots of struggles: being chased by Saul, the guilt of his affair with Bathsheba, the betrayal of his son, Absalom. And when he felt overwhelmed, he called out to God. Ever notice how so many Psalms start out saying, in essence, "This stinks God! Stop spitting on me. Come on! Use your power and just annihilate my enemies!" But, by the end, his faith in God's goodness and righteousness prevail, and he thanks God for His providence, even though He has yet to provide. David learned to see beyond his circumstances, beyond his concept of time, to learn to depend on and trust God. He stood at the rock that is higher than all of us, and he saw God's perspective.
I need to learn that. I am in the process of learning that. But it is so hard to trust when you are a crossroads and your desires lead you one way, but God pulls you in the other. If you follow your desires, you'll be miserable because you separate yourself from God. Even if you follow God, you may still be miserable during the transition, but you will also have the peace of God which is beyond human understanding. It makes no sense that you can be so unhappy, yet also so totally convinced that you are exactly where you are supposed to be. But it hurts to start walking and watch your desires fall slowly out of sight.
These past few months, I have been standing at the crossroads. I am not ready to give up hope that I may return to Wisconsin someday. I still wake up each morning thinking I am in my old house. I still track time by how long I have until my next visit. I still have not made new friends outside of work. I still haven't found a church. I need to let go. I need to trust that God has a reason for bringing me here and that He may not ever tell me what it is. I need to be willing to be used here. I need to choose to focus on the positive, like the fact that I love my job, I have an incredibly supportive boss and I have lots of time to write.
While I was deciding about whether or not to move, one of my pros was that moving would enable me to write my book. Unfortunately, I have found that more often than not, I didn't have a very positive outlook, and needed to work on changing that before I could write the things I wanted to say. I couldn't write about being content when I was pining for home. I couldn't write about being solely His, when I was selfishly my own. I couldn't write to help my readers, when I wasn't letting Him help me.
I just returned from a trip to Wisconsin to stand up in yet another wedding. This first week back, I've been thinking about how many of my male friends are now married. The longer I'm here, the less likely it is that my single male friends will marry me. And I have great guy friends! I get angry with God that He has taken me away from them to bring me this small town where my chances of meeting someone are pretty slim.
And then I hear God ask me what am I really living for? If I am truly living for Him, I am going to have to be content living only with Him. As singles, we are given a unique opportunity. We can fully live our lives for Him and with Him. There is nothing holding us back. And yet, we are often not satisfied. We want a human companion. We can share our life exclusively with the Giver of life. But we want Him to give us another's life.
It is such a struggle to believe and be satisfied. It is a daily, moment-by-moment choice, and so often I fail. Driving to work this morning, I was reminded of the Exodus. God's intention was to bring the Israelites through the desert and to the Promised Land. He did not mean to leave them in the wasteland. Even though the Israelites could only see the desolation all around them, God saw their destination just in front of them. Even in the midst of the journey, God was trying bless them by daily providing them with their needs. Yet, the Israelites were too bitter to recognize God's grace and their stubbornness actually extended their wandering. They saw the difficulty of the journey. He saw the glory of the destination. I see my own situations. He sees souls needing salvation.
It seems that a lot of us get caught up in that same stubborn thinking. Since we aren't where we want to be (out of debt, settled in our careers, married, etc.), we aren't happy where we are. And I think what God is trying to tell us is that we can't get where we want to be without first being where we are. The lessons we are learning now are better equipping us for what will come our way in the future. Now, I want to be very quick to say that our desires are not an automatic reward for doing good. Marriage is never a right. Financial stability is not a right. Success is not a right. They are blessings that are showered upon both the just and unjust. The Bible is full of examples of godly men and women who did not attain these things. When we focus on attaining these things, we are in danger of creating our own idols-another downfall of those Israelites in the desert. I'm sure that they were tired of walking around, having some nebulous Promised Land eluding them at every step, and a God they couldn't quite seem to please in their own selfish way. All those rules didn't seem to make a whole lot of sense, and I'm sure they felt out-of-control. They were tired of just following along. I'm sure they just wanted to create a little something for themselves-a sense of security, some sort of tangible evidence of themselves. So they made a little golden cow. And we do the same when we fill our lives with the pursuit of things like money, success and family.
As humans, we tend to see our lives in steps: high school, college, 20's, 30's, marriage, parenting, etc. God can see the whole continuum of our life in one step-a step that brings us home to be with Him forever. That is God's Promised Land for us. Not money. Not success. Not family. But we keep getting stuck when we look at the desert around us instead of the God above us.
I don't believe God ever wants us to put our lives on hold. Lately, I've found myself saying, "When I move back to Wisconsin..." But I realize that when I say things like that, I'm already dismissing what I currently have. My life isn't a CD player stuck on pause while I'm here. There's a song that can only be played here, and only if I choose to trust God enough to let him play it. This is all very hard for me to write because I am so convicted by my own words. This whole process of writing has been therapy to me, gently (or even quite pointedly) showing me areas I need to address, hopes to let go, hurts to forgive.
As I'm writing, I hear that quiet voice say, "Jen, I'm trying to bless you here. I know you're not happy, but I love you and I need you here. I can bring back your joy, but you need to accept it."
So here I am. And here you are. As children of divorce, it may be hard for us to trust. But the God who brought the Israelites through the desert will bring us through our rough times. And the God who brought the Israelites to the Promised Land has great things waiting for us. We need to listen to Him, trust Him, and be willing to follow Him.
© Jen Abbas, 1997
Today I found out that a friend of mine from Iowa moved to Grand Rapids. It got me thinking about all that God has brought me through in the last six years. I'm in such a wonderful place spiritual and otherwise now, that I forget sometimes the hard path it took to get here. Here's a look back at the harder days…
August 22, 1997
I really struggle with trusting God sometimes. I suppose that I could blame it on the insecurity of going through two divorces growing up, but I am a child of God now, and I know He will never leave me nor forsake me. Does that mean He will never frustrate me? No. Lead me down a very quiet and still (read: lonely) path? No. Does that mean that as a Christian, I won't have to struggle anymore? No, no, of course not. I know this, but sometimes it's really hard to accept it, believe it, really feel it.
I forget sometimes that God's best may not fit with my desires. I forget that I am the created, not the creator. I forget that I accepted Jesus as my Lord, not just my Savior. And I forget that I can't possibly understand all the great complexities of His way. However, that never stops me from trying, from wanting to think I can figure it all out. I think for me, understanding, or at least having an explanation, helps me accept the difficult consequences of following where Christ leads me.
Right now, He has led me to a small town in Iowa-away from the city I love, the friends I cherish, the church home I finally found, the small group I need, and my dream for my life. I don't know why I'm here. I can come up with a thousand possibilities, but God has never spoken to me in an audible voice and said, "Jen, THIS is why I brought you here." And I don't think He will. Instead, I think He simply wants me to obey Him and be willing to be used for all the reasons He has me here. I don't think He wants me to cling to my desire to return to Wisconsin-it may very well be His plan for later, but not for now. I think He wants me to see my life through His eyes. But you know, it's awfully hard to see a vision of eternity when your eyes are blurry from the tears of today.
Psalm 61:1-3 has become my prayer during these tough times:
Hear my cry, O God
listen to my prayer.
From the end of the earth I call to you,
I call as my heart grows faint;
lead me to the rock that is higher than I,
For you have been my refuge,
a strong tower against the foe.
I love that line, "Lead me to the rock that is higher than I." David knew lots of struggles: being chased by Saul, the guilt of his affair with Bathsheba, the betrayal of his son, Absalom. And when he felt overwhelmed, he called out to God. Ever notice how so many Psalms start out saying, in essence, "This stinks God! Stop spitting on me. Come on! Use your power and just annihilate my enemies!" But, by the end, his faith in God's goodness and righteousness prevail, and he thanks God for His providence, even though He has yet to provide. David learned to see beyond his circumstances, beyond his concept of time, to learn to depend on and trust God. He stood at the rock that is higher than all of us, and he saw God's perspective.
I need to learn that. I am in the process of learning that. But it is so hard to trust when you are a crossroads and your desires lead you one way, but God pulls you in the other. If you follow your desires, you'll be miserable because you separate yourself from God. Even if you follow God, you may still be miserable during the transition, but you will also have the peace of God which is beyond human understanding. It makes no sense that you can be so unhappy, yet also so totally convinced that you are exactly where you are supposed to be. But it hurts to start walking and watch your desires fall slowly out of sight.
These past few months, I have been standing at the crossroads. I am not ready to give up hope that I may return to Wisconsin someday. I still wake up each morning thinking I am in my old house. I still track time by how long I have until my next visit. I still have not made new friends outside of work. I still haven't found a church. I need to let go. I need to trust that God has a reason for bringing me here and that He may not ever tell me what it is. I need to be willing to be used here. I need to choose to focus on the positive, like the fact that I love my job, I have an incredibly supportive boss and I have lots of time to write.
While I was deciding about whether or not to move, one of my pros was that moving would enable me to write my book. Unfortunately, I have found that more often than not, I didn't have a very positive outlook, and needed to work on changing that before I could write the things I wanted to say. I couldn't write about being content when I was pining for home. I couldn't write about being solely His, when I was selfishly my own. I couldn't write to help my readers, when I wasn't letting Him help me.
I just returned from a trip to Wisconsin to stand up in yet another wedding. This first week back, I've been thinking about how many of my male friends are now married. The longer I'm here, the less likely it is that my single male friends will marry me. And I have great guy friends! I get angry with God that He has taken me away from them to bring me this small town where my chances of meeting someone are pretty slim.
And then I hear God ask me what am I really living for? If I am truly living for Him, I am going to have to be content living only with Him. As singles, we are given a unique opportunity. We can fully live our lives for Him and with Him. There is nothing holding us back. And yet, we are often not satisfied. We want a human companion. We can share our life exclusively with the Giver of life. But we want Him to give us another's life.
It is such a struggle to believe and be satisfied. It is a daily, moment-by-moment choice, and so often I fail. Driving to work this morning, I was reminded of the Exodus. God's intention was to bring the Israelites through the desert and to the Promised Land. He did not mean to leave them in the wasteland. Even though the Israelites could only see the desolation all around them, God saw their destination just in front of them. Even in the midst of the journey, God was trying bless them by daily providing them with their needs. Yet, the Israelites were too bitter to recognize God's grace and their stubbornness actually extended their wandering. They saw the difficulty of the journey. He saw the glory of the destination. I see my own situations. He sees souls needing salvation.
It seems that a lot of us get caught up in that same stubborn thinking. Since we aren't where we want to be (out of debt, settled in our careers, married, etc.), we aren't happy where we are. And I think what God is trying to tell us is that we can't get where we want to be without first being where we are. The lessons we are learning now are better equipping us for what will come our way in the future. Now, I want to be very quick to say that our desires are not an automatic reward for doing good. Marriage is never a right. Financial stability is not a right. Success is not a right. They are blessings that are showered upon both the just and unjust. The Bible is full of examples of godly men and women who did not attain these things. When we focus on attaining these things, we are in danger of creating our own idols-another downfall of those Israelites in the desert. I'm sure that they were tired of walking around, having some nebulous Promised Land eluding them at every step, and a God they couldn't quite seem to please in their own selfish way. All those rules didn't seem to make a whole lot of sense, and I'm sure they felt out-of-control. They were tired of just following along. I'm sure they just wanted to create a little something for themselves-a sense of security, some sort of tangible evidence of themselves. So they made a little golden cow. And we do the same when we fill our lives with the pursuit of things like money, success and family.
As humans, we tend to see our lives in steps: high school, college, 20's, 30's, marriage, parenting, etc. God can see the whole continuum of our life in one step-a step that brings us home to be with Him forever. That is God's Promised Land for us. Not money. Not success. Not family. But we keep getting stuck when we look at the desert around us instead of the God above us.
I don't believe God ever wants us to put our lives on hold. Lately, I've found myself saying, "When I move back to Wisconsin..." But I realize that when I say things like that, I'm already dismissing what I currently have. My life isn't a CD player stuck on pause while I'm here. There's a song that can only be played here, and only if I choose to trust God enough to let him play it. This is all very hard for me to write because I am so convicted by my own words. This whole process of writing has been therapy to me, gently (or even quite pointedly) showing me areas I need to address, hopes to let go, hurts to forgive.
As I'm writing, I hear that quiet voice say, "Jen, I'm trying to bless you here. I know you're not happy, but I love you and I need you here. I can bring back your joy, but you need to accept it."
So here I am. And here you are. As children of divorce, it may be hard for us to trust. But the God who brought the Israelites through the desert will bring us through our rough times. And the God who brought the Israelites to the Promised Land has great things waiting for us. We need to listen to Him, trust Him, and be willing to follow Him.
© Jen Abbas, 1997
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