God's Got Us in His Pocket

 When she was just a baby and still let me kiss her.

The absolute opposite of me?  My youngest Sister, Bekah.  We are not just kinda different, we are opposite.  I am a rule follower, and she marches to the beat of her own drum.  I like J. Crew, she only wears concert t-shirts.  I’m super uptight, she’s super not.  Differences make life colorful though, don’t they?

[They do.]

I’m excited for you to meet her, as she shares her own kernels of wisdom learned through her experience of growing up without a Mom.  While I was 10 when Mom died, Bekah was only 2.  When she sent me her original submission for the series about grief that my sisters and I are putting together, emotions it lacked not.  It was painted with sadness and anger and it was the kind that was fresh, not frozen.  

Mom and Bekah

In true 20-something, oldest-Sister-of-a-teenager fashion, my original thought was: “grumble grumble teenage dramatics.”  I had to chew on it for a while because I knew that would not be a great way to respond to someone’s heart on the table.  From her story, I realized while I got to know my Mom slightly better, got to see both her at her real Mommy best and real Mommy worst, and therefore had more to miss-- my youngest Sister doesn’t even know what to miss, because she can’t possibly have a memory of her.  

In the 15 years and 3 days since my Mom died I have never really considered how hard that would be… to miss something you never knew enough to miss.  To not even know how beautiful the beautiful things were, or to have memories of the ugly real life stuff to bring you back to reality.  Man, that must be tough.  

The undeniable truth about Bekah is that she, too, is really really tough, and she expresses herself in such a way that always makes you feel something.  When she sings, the hairs on your arms will stand straight up.  When she’s in a passionate debate and she’s on your side, you sit up straighter and simply yell: “yeah, what she said.” When she’s in a passionate debate and she is not on your side, she will literally make your blood boil.  LITERALLY.  

With much power, comes much responsibility.  If you can make people feel things, you have to be careful about how you make them feel.  So she and I made a choice… instead of posting the original piece she sent me, I would like to share the verbatim text conversation that followed her submitting original piece:

J: “What I want to know is: you have a captive audience who knows you are talking about death/grief.  What message do you want them to take away from your post?”

B: “I want them to know that even when you feel like your whole world is black there are people put in your life by God/the Universe to help you overcome it and grow.  And not to give up.

I honestly believe people who go through things like this that impact their whole life are destined for greater things, God’s got us in his pocket yo.” 

Bekah, a total Daddy’s girl

Our stories and experiences of grief looked very different.  However, after processing collectively we were able to agree on the same “take home” point… God Has Got You in His Pocket.

It is entirely possible that no one, not even your family (and well meaning oldest Sister) understands you.  It is entirely possible that you can go through Hell and back with someone, and they can still be on completely different pages than you.  

While you might be sitting from a unique vantage point, you are never alone.  Why?  Jesus is with you, and God is with him.  

"Behold, an hour is coming, and has already come, for you to be scattered, each to his own home, and to leave Me alone; and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with Me.  These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take heart; I have overcome the world." John 16: 32-33

God has got you in his pocket, friend, just like he has Bekah.  The one thing my 17 year old wanted you to know is that if grief has shaken your whole world, you’re destined for greater things.  Jesus has overcome the world, and because of him, we can too… so take heart.  

God’s got you in his pocket.  

[I told you Bekah is good at making you feel something.]  

Bekah is a 17 year-old finishing up her last
year of high school (I still can’t believe it).  She aspires to either be a drama teacher or special education teacher, and has a voice that was simply  made for Jesus’ choir. 

From the Mouths of Babes

When you are trying to survive middle and high school, mourning your Mom and trying as best you can to help be a good role model for your four younger sisters, the last thing you want to hear is “Jessica, you are not my Mom.”  You want to know the hardest part of losing my Mom?  Hearing that sentence over and over for years.  Of my four sisters, Rachel has always given me the most grace when I didn’t measure up as a Mom-sub, and she offers that same amount of grace to everyone in her life.  

Helping to raise her was full of laughs and near catastrophes, some of which she will share with you in this blog post.  One worth mentioning: when I was about 10 years old and she was itty bitty- the age where you can’t leave alone for a second-  I had to go to the bathroom, so I brought her in with me and set her down on the floor.  I had given her a disposable camera to play with, one I had to use for a photography project for my fifth grade class.  She took a picture… my pants were down… and I had to get the whole roll developed because it had the photos for my project.  

Now that Rachel is older, it is easy to overlook the pants down photos and the couple of times I had to jump fully clothed into pools to rescue her because of the quality of her heart and character.  I can’t wait for you to read what’s on her heart…

“I miss her all the time. I know in my head that she has gone. The only difference is that I am getting used to the pain. It's like discovering a great hole in the ground. To begin with, you forget it's there and keep falling in. After a while, it's still there, but you learn to walk round it.”

-Rachel Joyce, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry

This quote by Rachel Joyce perfectly describes how I still feel 15 years after my mom has been gone. November has always been a hard month, because of the reminder that if she were still here we would share birthday celebrations (her birthday being the 23rd and mine the 24th).

In November I think about the faint memories I have of her, trying to remember her voice. I think about all the things girls dream about doing with their mothers, like girls’ nights, talking about crushes, helping get ready for my prom, or even one day watching me get married. It makes me really sad that none of those things a girl expects to experience with a mother won’t happen for me.

I think about all that I’m missing, and also about all of the awkward, “well didn’t your mom…,” conversations I could’ve avoided if she were here- which added up to be way too many to count! Also, I hate how those conversations go into the, “well how did she pass if you don’t mind me asking?” I know it’s too much to not expect that awkward conversation with people, but I hate thinking about it, honestly.

While I did not have my Mom, growing up I did have a lot of love and guidance from my grandparents, sisters, and Dad.  Having that many people to rely on through hard times made everything so much easier. In particular, I really can’t even put into words how thankful I am for my Grandma. Once my Mom got sick and long after she passed, she did a lot of tasks my Mom would have done for my sisters and me, and has always been there when I needed help. She’s just an awesome lady in general, and I wish everyone reading this could meet her!

My Grandma wasn’t the only woman who had to step up.  My older sisters were only a few years older than I was when our Mom passed away, so I know it wasn’t easy helping raise my younger Sister and myself. They may not know it, but I have always looked up to them as long as I remember. While growing up together was a lot of fun, I was an accident prone little girl and kept them on their toes… I remember jumping into my Grandpa Phil’s pool fully clothed as a toddler, and luckily Jessica noticed in time to jump in and save my life- thank God.

The infamous teletubbies outfit- 

worn during aforementioned pool jump

In more recent years Jessica has helped me with a million college things that I know my Mother would be helping me do if she were here. Navigating through college (specifically paying for it) has been extremely stressful, but thanks to the help of Jessica and Jesus it’s been easy for me to stay positive!

I always look to find the positive both in people and the obstacles God places before me. I make sure I tell people I love them constantly because I know the time we have here is not certain. Often in uncertain times, I feel as if my Mom is looking down upon me and I know she wouldn’t want me, nor my sisters, to be mournful or negative because of her passing. It hasn’t always been easy for me to acquire this mindset though- it’s taken loving myself and overcoming the battle of anxiety. Ever since I was a little girl I have worried about losing people close to me, and to be honest it’s still something I struggle with. One verse that is helping me is Isaiah 41:10:

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

All in all, when you lose someone you love- at a young age or not- you have two choices regarding how you let it affect your life: negatively, or positively. I challenge you to choose to be positive and live the fulfilling life you know your loved one would have wanted for you, too.

                                                                                            

Rachel is 18 years old and is studying to become a pastry chef.  She has a super-fan obsession with One Direction, loves visiting planetariums, and considers her sweet Grandma to be her best friend.  When Rachel was little, she would ask people, “do you want to know how much I love you?” then run around the house to show people the physical distance—when your older Sister writes your bio, this is what makes it in!

Take 3: A New Voice on Grief

A little known fact about me: before I decided I wanted to be an elementary school guidance counselor I wanted to be a grief counselor.  Some people might consider grief counseling as a contender for the most depressing job ever, but not this lady.  The reason?  Heaven.  We were made for Heaven, and going home is something to be celebrated with happy tears, not sad ones.

I know that now, but I didn't know that when I was 10 and lost my Mom.  Before I knew about Jesus and let myself believe in Heaven, I didn't know how to celebrate death, or really find joy in much of anything for that matter.  15 years later, everything in my life is painted with God's joy.

One of the callings currently bringing me the greatest joy is helping other people to find their voice and share their story.  This month I decided that a great way to honor my Mom would be to give my four sisters a space to share their own experience of her life and her passing instead of just stringing together more of my own words on the topic of grief. 

First, my Sister, Ashley, brings up a perspective I never even considered... the experience my Mom must have had anticipating missing out on the lives of her five children.

Wow. Never thought about that once. 

Of my four sisters, Ashley is probably the one most like Mom.  I can't wait for you to meet her.  Here's the end of my words and the start of Ashley's story...

Ashley and Mom

by: Ashley

“I was the girl who lost her mom when she was 8, she was the mom that lost 5 kids when she was 29.” 

This year marks 15 years since my Mom has been gone, and in those years many life milestones have come and gone, too. With each year it seemed to get easier, almost like she was just a dream. It wasn’t until I had my own child that I realized how much I truly missed her. She left a hole in my heart I couldn’t fill, an unconditional bond between and mother and child. It wasn’t until the day my son was born and I looked into his eyes that I felt unconditionally loved again. It breaks my heart knowing that he will never be able to meet her and how much she would’ve loved him. 

It wasn’t until I gained my own perspective as a Mother that I realized I had been so selfish during the time of her passing, even after the fact. For all these years, I have only thought about how it affected me, and how I would have to grow up and experience everything without her. When I had my son and felt that bond again, my world changed and my perspective on everything changed, too.

I have realized I never put myself in her shoes, thought about how she must have felt. Being a mother, to be sick, knowing the possibility of death was real. Looking in her child’s eyes, knowing very well it could be the last time. Having to stay strong for us, never once did I see her weep. I don’t think I could’ve done it as gracefully. 

Sure, I was the girl that lost her mom when she was 8, but she was the mom that lost her kids when she was 29. She knew she was leaving us, she knew she would miss out on the biggest parts of our lives. I miss her every day. I hope if there truly is a way for her to look down on us, she found it. She has definitely taught me not to take life or love for granted, which has made me a better mother… for that I am grateful. 

Ashley is a 23 year-old Momma living in Kentucky.  Her favorite things in life include spoiling her 2 year old Son, cheering on the Cincinnati Bengals, and the Disney movie "Tangled."

We Don't Know What We Don't Know

The past few days I have been in and around Chicago for Storyline, an AMAZING conference for Christian writers and creative types and oh my word do I have things to write about what I’ve learned there.  That stuff can wait though.

Today my adventure buddy and I took the good ole Metra into the big city to explore (this mostly included sitting on a bench for a super long time).  My adventure buddy, Lindsey, is super humble and I don’t want to embarrass her too much, but what you should know about her is that her heart is really good.  This weekend was her first time in Chicago and she didn’t want to drag her feet around the city.  In fact, the only real thing she expressed she wanted to do (aside from seeing Millennium Park… she is an American girl, after all) was help homeless people.  

To take a pause to clarify, we did not at all go around the city and solve hunger and this was not at all something that I can have any credit for.  We just talked to two people and gave them snacks, so don’t get any ideas about us being saints or something.  Well, Lindsey might be.  Anyhow…

We saw a man with a sign on a corner across the street, so we stopped in a McDonald’s and as we were purchasing cheeseburgers, brilliantly brilliant Lindsey said something I had never thought of before… “are you sure he’s hungry?”  She said this not because she wanted to save $1, but because she wanted to make sure if we were going to meet a need, we knew what the real need was.  Again, brilliant.  

As we crossed the street hoping to feed a hungry belly, this was the tune of the dialogue:

Us: “Hi there, are you hungry?”

Man that God made: “Kinda hungry… depends on what you have.”

Us: “Oh, we have a cheeseburger.  Would you like that?”

Man that God made: “I think so… see, the thing is I got all of my teeth pulled two weeks ago, so I can only eat soft things.”

Us: “Oh, that sounds super painful!”

Man that God made: “Yeah… a lot of people think I’m an ***-**** when I say that I don’t want what they offer me, but it just hurts to eat a lot of things.”

Me (I’ve never heard adventure buddy curse): “Well, we don’t think you’re an ***-****.  God made you, so we think you must be pretty awesome.”

[Doesn’t your heart hurt for him, his hungry belly and his pulled teeth?!]

That’s what I said to him that time, but I have had previous encounters where people without access to food told me they only wanted my food if I had chicken and I thought “hmmmm, really not how I expected this to go.”

What Lindsey tried to teach me, this man drove home.  We can’t actually meet needs until we take the time to learn what they are.  Sometimes we think we know the problem and solution, but we don’t know what we don’t know.  

I don’t know much, which is made glaringly obvious to me every single day.  I don’t have a super detailed action plan on this one, but I do have a rhetorical question and some Lindsey wisdom...

Wouldn’t it be great if our society humanized homelessness?  

I am clearly a cheeseburger sporting rookie here, but Lindsey modeled for me three great ways to do this:

   

1. Ask for a name
2. Ask for a story
3. Ask for a need you can help meet

I’m going to try… do you want to try with me?

Love Does

Student loans are enough to give any 25 year old ulcers.  The thought of my kid sister starting college and taking out her own loans has given me an ulcer/gray hair combination.  I would say it gives me insomnia, but really that is because I’ve slept on an air mattress for a month and some change- a story for a different day.

A few weeks ago I found myself complaining (I know you are shocked) about the dollars I was forking over for her textbooks… which are much more expensive than I remember them, I might add… when I decided to take a break from worrying about that to spend some time with the 7 little ones I mentor.

They also have been dealing with the stress of college costs.  When I asked the oldest if her financial aid package had been straightened out, she looked at me funny and said, “Didn’t I tell you?  My sister paid for it.”

I turned to her 18 year old sister.  “You did WHAT?!”

She had worked a minimum wage job serving food in a nursing home all spring and summer to save for a car.  When her sister needed her tuition paid, she gave it all up.  She is 18.  18!!!

With complete humbleness, she told me, “She couldn’t have gone to school if I didn’t  help.  She needs to go to school, I don’t really need a car.”

She did it because that’s what love does. It gives until it hurts.  

As my very favorite author, Bob Goff said in his lone book, Love Does, “ But the kind of love that God created and demonstrated is a costly one because it involves sacrifice and presence.”  Read it!  Then buy it, give it to other people, and have them read it! Then, more importantly, do it!

Bob Goff makes me go on tangents.  Back to Alice-- I needed that reminder from my sweet 18 year old friend.  Love should be that way!!!  It should be, yet the way I love and give can really miss that mark sometimes.  Anyhow, that conviction made me start crying on their couch.  It happens a lot.  They find it hilarious.  Like, too funny.  

Doesn’t it make you want to cry, too, though?!  

If I went down the list of each of my 7 kiddos, I could tell  you stories about each one of them showing that kind of love both to his or her siblings and to me in the last few months.  They fight like normal siblings do, but they also love each other- and love me- like Jesus does.  People really get it wrong when they say that they are lucky to have me, because I am 7 times as lucky to have them.

So the next time you hear me complaining about my gray hair, or the fact that I’ll never be able to see Taylor Swift in concert or go to Disney World again, kick me in the shins and say, “What would Alice do?”  I’ll shut right up.  And I’ll shake it off. See what I did there?

Bondye Pi Gran

If someone would sit and listen for 100 consecutive hours, or more realistically probably 4 hours, I think I could talk the entire time about how awesome my trip to Haiti was and how much I miss it.  This morning, in particular, I miss the sweet sound of 360 Haitian children praising God each morning before camp started.  It’s the kind of missing that makes your heart hurt a little.  

I have a lot of Haiti stories that make your heart hurt, but in a good way that shows that it’s growing, and I am still trying to figure out how to actually share them.  It is rather difficult to process all of the great things that happened, though I’ve been home for a couple of weeks now.  

The first story I think I’ll share isn’t even about my third graders.  It happened on one of the final days of camp, when our student-translator, Kendy, took my co-leader and I on a tour of the town.  One of the final stops we made was at a state-funded nursing home.  If we are going to get real-- we are-- I probably would have been perfectly content just smiling, waving and saying a simple hello (bon swai) to the dozen or so elderly folks that lived there before heading out of the compound.  That wasn’t what Kendy had in mind for us...

First we walked up to a man sitting in a rocking chair, reading the Bible.  I asked Bible man, through Kendy, what God was teaching him that morning, and he read aloud the passage he had been reading from either Colossians or Galatians that could be summarized with “God is greater,” which happened to be the theme of the Bible camp we were teaching that week.  With that, I slipped him the rubber bracelet I was wearing that said “Bondye pi gran” (“God is greater” in Creole).  In all of the big book, what are the odds, right?

We left Bible man and started speaking with a thin blind lady who said she was very sick and needed food and/or money.  I gave her the granola bar that I had, and said “silver or gold I do not have, but I would love to share God’s word with you in prayer.”  She said that she was a believer, but she did not want prayer from me, she wanted food.

I offered her everything I had-- a granola bar and prayer, a glimpse of truth from our great God-- and I still have never felt so inadequate or humbled.

Enter Bible man.  “Don’t you know that what she is offering you is more valuable than food?”

She said that she didn’t believe that.  And if we are going to be honest, I have never had to really know that.  I have said it, but I’ve never had to live it.  Before I went to Haiti, I had honestly never really even thought about how some people had.

Bible man said that there was another woman who wanted our prayer, so we followed him to her and then prayed over her.  Then he got down on his knees and said he was ready for his prayer.  He wanted little, small inadequate me to pray affirmations over him.

Bible man looked completely surrendered, the kind of surrender I can talk about wanting all day long but still feel so far from often.  Everything about his posture said, “bring it on, I’m waiting, God.  Rain on me.”  I hope to remember that image in my heart always.  Right next to it is the way that the kids pray there… closed eyes, clasped hands hitting their cute noses, as though they were desperately pleading for something.

In his book. Blue Like Jazz, author Donald Miller says, “Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself.  It is as if they are showing you the way.”  I was very much in love with Jesus before I went to Haiti, but 10 days watching Haitians love the Lord helped show me how much bigger and better he is than I could have thought before.  

I don’t know how you pray, if you pray.  I don’t know what blanks you use to fill:

God is greater than _____________.

I do know that if you decide to leave your comfort zone and go on a service trip, God will give you new answers.  

You might learn that God is greater than the price of a plane ticket to Haiti and all of your vacation days and then some.

God is greater than an inadequate 25 year-old American girl.

God is greater than your small view of your small part of his big world.

God is greater than the language barriers created after the Fall.

God is even greater than food.  

Tomorrow as I try my first attempts at fasting for a family member’s medical procedure and get down on my knees to pray, I’ll think of Bible man as I wait for God to show up.  

Bondye pi gran.

God is greater.