All the Money and the Time That it Takes

There is this new-ish song that has become a Jessica Tincher anthem (apparently it is called “Hideaway” and is sang by someone named Daya… which I seriously didn’t know until I just looked it up).  The interesting thing about this song is that it seems to be a big shoutout to the plight of the single Mom, and therefore should not at all be relatable to me, as I have given birth to exactly 0 children.  

"Girls seem to like the boys who don't appreciate all the money and the time that it takes to be fly as a Mother." 

Still, every time I hear those lyrics, I make the “this is my jam face” and belt it out.  While I love a lot of babies that aren’t entirely mine, I cannot even fathom how hard it is to be a single Mom… but  I have a friend who really does. Jeanette is a single Mom to 7 top notch kids that I’m lucky to love.  She survived genocide in her home country, she moved to the US with her former husband and 6 kiddos (and added one more to the family) as refugees, and she survived a divorce.  She supports 7 kids by working night shifts at Walmart and is a real life superwoman.  

She and I have completely different backgrounds and half the time we cannot understand each other, yet somehow she has a way of teaching me more about parenting than any of the countless child development or counseling classes I’ve taken ever could.  

One prime example came from last Christmas Eve.  I came over after a LONG day, super grouchy, and told the kids after they opened each present they needed to share with everyone something a family member had done to bless them that year.  It became something really beautiful, as everyone gave speeches and cried their eyes out… we didn’t even have tissues, we just let the ugly crying happen.  It took two hours to open about 20 presents, and it was the single best thing I’ve ever been a part of.  

Of all of the speeches, one really stood out to me.  In every single speech about the oldest Son, people pointed out that he had really changed in the last year and become more mature, better behaved, and was trying harder in school and at home.  WE ARE TALKING ABOUT A TRANSFORMATION HERE. (**warning: proud gushy moment coming up**). In his speech about his Momma, he accounted for this change… he talked about how he always acted the worst, but she always gave him the best anyway.  It’s true… of all of the siblings, he usually receives the best clothes, the biggest portions of food, the least amount of chores, and the most forgiveness.  He said, “one day I realized maybe I should act the best, since that’s what she gives me all the time.”  

I think too few people-- “boys,” parents, teachers, random people like me who just keep showing up at people’s houses in hopes they will let me play with their children (I am great at making myself sound creepy, aren’t I?)-- appreciate what can happen if, instead of just giving them the excess, you take the best portion of the love you have and give it to kids who are (for a season) the most difficult to love.  Jeanette, who has never taken a child development class or wasted money on parenting books, does.  Jesus, who made Jeanette in his image, does.

Where society wanted to put discipline and boundaries, Jeanette employed faithful love.  Where “best practice” puts a three-strikes-you’re-out policy, Jeanette puts grace.  I love that her way worked better, because it’s God’s way. <3

Not a shocking revelation: all I really want for my little life is to be fly as a mother (and daughter of the one true King, which conveniently makes me sound super sassy)... and a champion for global education, and hugger of many babies… but you know fly as a mother/wife/daughter of the one true King first and foremost. That’s why I spent Christmas with the best Mom I know...

To paraphrase the speech Jeanette gave about me on Christmas Eve, she mentioned she didn’t take me seriously for a long time because she thought I would stop showing up one day, like so many volunteers do for various reasons, but one day she realized I never would stop coming because I loved them like family-- which reminded her of their close-knit community in a refugee camp they lived in for years in Tanzania (her words: “when I think of Jessica, I think of Africa.” This statement made everyone stop crying and start laughing).  I hope that by next Christmas she understands I don’t come out of the goodness in my own heart, but because of the goodness in hers.  Every time I sit on her couch, I’m taking notes on how to be fly as a Mother.

The Year I Gave Away My Birthday

There are two single, unrelated magic things about me:

1. I get free things all of the time, namely coffee-- namely from the Starbucks on Richmond Road, but also lots of other places, too. All of the free things, just so often, without prompting.  The reasoning is inexplicable.  It’s just magic.
2. I always have a high turnout for my birthdays, even though it’s wedged smack-dab in the middle of Jesus’s birthday and the new year.  Historically, my birthday is the very worst time of the year to have a birthday, but I always have 20+ people turnout to birthday dinners.  It’s magic.  

Last year, when I turned 25, I went to Chicago for a fun-filled weekend with one of my sisters, and then had a belated birthday dinner at Malone’s with lots of friends and a cute new Banana Republic dress.  When it came time to plan my 26th birthday, I decided I wanted to use my birthday magic to make other hearts happy, as making hearts happy is what makes my own little heart the happiest.

This year for my birthday I asked my friends and family to make lasagnas and cookies and show up at a campus ministry building to surprise a family of eight with a birthday party that was infinitely more joyful than any party I’ve ever had before.  I also asked complete strangers to do this.  And you know what, people came-- they came and they hung decorations, took directions, and manned activity tables and they loved on the kids I love the most and it was perfect!  And those who could not make it dropped off food and games.  It was perfect. It was magical.  It was Heaven.

Low quality photo of a high quality glimpse of Heaven

One saintly lady I love even made four GIANT delicious gourmet birthday cakes, and each of the eight family members had a cake with their name on it.

Count ‘em

Lately I keep noticing the most satisfying thing I can do is take what God uses to bring me the most joy and share with everyone I know.  Whether it’s birthday magic, cake, free coffee, or the 7 cutest kids I am not biologically related to-- I’m meant to share.  

When I was younger, if I heard the word “service” I thought about doing things to take away pain.  In my 26 year old wisdom, I have found the best way to take away the pain of this world is simply to spread joy… not just do unwanted tasks so someone else doesn’t have to, but doing more of what makes me feel closest to Heaven while inviting other people in.  

This year I traded a new Banana Republic dress for sweatpants and gave away my birthday magic, and it was the best, most satisfying trade-off I have ever made. What can you do to share what makes your heart the happiest?  When you figure it out, let me know how I can help!

Ride or Die: How to be the best BFF when friends are heartbroken

In the last month I learned the true meaning of what it means to be a “ride or die”-- a bestie that stays with you no matter what.  How did this happen?  A group of friends and I recently rode in a car until we literally thought we were going to die in hopes of showing a friend how much we love her.  

At the end of last year one of my best friends got dealt a hard set of cards she didn’t deserve, the kind that hurts badly... really really badly.  In the light of her hurt heart, our other bestie and I consulted with each other, and decided the best thing we could do was to love her in a big way.  So we packed a car, invited another friend, and drove for a total of 24 hours to be at the beach for a day and a half.  

We could have flown, yes.  But we drove.  It wasn’t about being efficient, it was about being together.  

We drove 12 hours and some change hoping for a miraculous sunny and 75 degree day to contrast the cold Kentucky weather we left behind.  What we got instead was a cold, windy beach with dark gray skies and the dark gray ocean.  We drove a long long way to get away from the gray, but there was no outrunning it.  So we did what any ride or die besties would do… we bundled up, stared into the beautiful grayness, caked sand into our clothes, and we laughed in spite of it all.  A lot.

Dropping everything and driving a quarter way across the country when your best friend is heartbroken might not always be doable for you, sure, but if you can do it, I would highly recommend it.  

Here are a few other recommendations on how to be the best best friend when skies are gray:

1. Don’t send flowers: send pizza.  If your bestie talks about not being hungry or not having energy to go grocery shopping/cook, surprise her by ordering her pizza delivery.  

2. Say yes.  Say yes if she wants Taco Bell.  Say yes if she wants another dog.  Say yes if she asks you to spend all day couch shopping with her.  Almost always say yes. Except when you have to…

3. Say no. Say no to wreckless or semi-wreckless decisions that could become habit forming.  There are some things you just say no to.

4. Don’t tell your sad friend not to cry.  Don’t even offer tissues. Just let her ugly cry as needed, and let it be okay. 
5. Or let the girl yell.  If she isn’t a crier, let her yell.  If she needs to semi-drunkenly yell about her ex, let her do it.  Don’t even be embarrassed about it… you can’t be!

6. Get her dry shampoo.  She needs it.

7. Remember her history.  Personally, I no longer drink alcohol, but lots of sad girls do.  If you are with a sad friend while she is drinking, a  true “ride or die” should remember her bestie’s drinking history and keep her away from things homegirl has a  known history of getting sick/ having a hangover from.  Wine… probably a bad idea.  Margaritas… probably a bad idea.  Anything you would have consumed as a freshman in college… bad idea.  Be classy, and help her stay away from super sweet stuff.  

8. Check-in.  Not all besties talk every single day, but in times of heartache it is necessary.  It would be better to annoy them by checking in too much than allowing them to feel lonely and forgotten.  My personal go to text: “P.S. I love you.”

9. Feng Shui. If cause of heartbreak is a boy, help her de-boy her place.  New wall art and new bedspreads can do wonders, as they make a girl feel like they are able to have a fresh (pretty) start!  Maybe you don’t normally care about color palettes and duvet covers… you had better take a sudden extreme interest. ***Do not try to get rid of pictures or sentimental items before your bae is ready though, because this could lead to resentment and isolation.  

10. Remember.  If ever there is a time your bae seems grouchy or ungrateful, remember the myriad of things they did for you the last time life was hard and keep pushing through.  Do for them what you most appreciated others doing for you when you were heartbroken.

One of the more important functions of best friends is to enjoy life with, yes, but you find out who your true “ride or die”s are when life isn’t sunny and 75.  Text your person, tell them you love them, and have the dry shampoo at the ready.

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."