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My thirty-FIRST Birthday

September 25, 2009 in Adultery, Faith, Jenni, Life Experience, Marriage, Motherhood, Personal Entries with 19 Comments

Today, I am 31 years old.

When I was little, I thought 31 was old… like REALLY old.

I thought that by 31 I would DEFINITELY have it all together.

Well… here I am. Too old to be in love with Zac Efron and too young to get a face-lift.

And seeing that I only have one living grandparent left, I think I can safely guess that genetics would say my life is already half over.

But you know what?

… Thirty-ONE is a great number.

It took me 30 years to get to the point of complete honesty with myself.
It took 30 years to fall completely broken on my face.
It took 30 years to realize the walls I had built around me were suffocating me.
It took 30 years to finally set up appropriate boundaries of protection.
It took 30 years to experience what grace really is.
It took 30 years to see that love was real… even for me.

Today is my thirty-FIRST birthday.

My first year to fall in love everyday with my husband.
My first year to love those around me UNCONDITIONALLY.
My first year to extend the grace of God that is for EVERYONE.
My first year living with no hidden secrets.
My first year being 100% available to my children.
My first year being whole.

It’s my FIRST year. My life is only beginning.

God is in the business of restoring lives. This is the first year I’ll fully experience it.

Guess what???

Today’s the first day of the rest of YOUR life too!!!

Happy Birthday to YOU!

My Pool (Part Four)

September 24, 2009 in Adultery, Faith, Family, Friends, Jenni, Life Experience, Marriage, Personal Entries with 32 Comments

After almost two years, the affair ended… as all do in one way or another. And there I was: alone with my thoughts.. I had been treading for almost 30 years in very murky, polluted waters.

All I ever wanted was to matter.

I wanted to be LOVED by someone…
I wanted to be GREAT at something…
I wanted to be REMEMBERED when I was gone…

And the truth was… I had MADE it. By the age of 30 I had attained everything I ever set out to acquire. So why did I feel like such a nobody?

My relationship with God was starting to pick up again. This was good except He wanted to heal me. The NERVE, right? He was starting to reveal root issues I had buried so deeply, I wasn’t even aware they existed. These were things I wasn’t ready to face.

My life was a swimming pool FULL of trash. God was helping me bring all of my rubbish to the surface, but it was up to me whether I wanted to use my net to fish it out. I knew if I were to grab the net, I would have to really look at the trash before I could destroy it once and for all. It was much easier to just push everything back down and just never swim in the pool.

On the outside, my life still looked fine. I accepted a new position at a local church plant in Portland as the Worship Pastor. Brian and I got pregnant and birthed another healthy little boy, Paxton. Chance started his first year of preschool. I was happy… but I should have been ecstatic about my life. My secrets were eating me alive. I was missing out on my OWN life and couldn’t recognize it.

You see… my pool wasn’t only for me. Brian, Chance, Paxton, our family, and all our friends were gathered around it… just waiting for me to give them the “ok” to jump in and play. And man, did they want to play… it’s always a hot day around here. But my pool was polluted and not safe for anyone to swim in.

It was time to clean my pool.

I told Brian about my affair, and the following 5 months were beyond painful. My pool had been stirred and now the waters looked murkier. I didn’t know if we were going to make it. By the looks of it, this mess was getting worse. This was NOT what I had signed up for.

As I was “fishing”, I began to get really angry. I noticed that though most of the trash was tossed in by ME, a LOT of it was from other people. However, I had a choice: to place blame and wait for “them” to come clean up their litter, or just take ownership and clean the parts that affected me. I was mourning some deep, deep issues for the first time. It hurt… but it was good..

While God was re-surfacing all my trash, and I was obediently fishing each and every item out one-by-one… my friends and loved ones had put a brand new filter in my pool. I didn’t know it at the time, but the friends and family we had told were intercessing on our behalf. They were helping me clean my pool without me even asking.

** Thank you, my dear friends. Even now, as I write this, I sit… tearfully and humbly thankful to each and every one of you. Thank you. **

My focus was tightly wrapped up in the rubbish I was taking out. I mourned each and every re-surfaced piece of trash I once treasured. I was permanently destroying the remnants of my garbage in a huge bonfire… when one day, Brian and I looked in and noticed the most amazing sight. Not only were the waters clean, but the once cluttered pool bottom was now cleared of ALL debris. And there stood Jesus, inviting us in with some floaty recliners and margaritas, complete with those cute little drink umbrellas made by underaged and underpaid third world children (you still there? just checkin’ to see if you’re still reading).

Friends… all of us have a pool. And if we don’t tend to it, it will become polluted and dirty, rendering it completely useless. I also want to reiterate that I didn’t do this alone. Christ was there, Brian was there, and friends were there.

This can’t happen overnight. It’s really grueling work that seems hopeless and never-ending at times. You don’t have to do it alone… but to get help, you need to be willing to show others how dirty your pool really is. I, for one, promise to help get you a filter for your pool if you tell me you need one.

I’m not saying my pool will be clean forever. Occasionally, trash will drift in and the water will get stagnant. I know Brian and I will need to drain the pool at times in our next 70+ years together and put fresh water in… but it sure is a lot easier to upkeep when we don’t let it build up.

What’s in your pool?
Isn’t it time to go swimming with all your loved ones?

I think so, friends… I think so.

————–

To read the whole series:
Part One: In My Daddy’s Lap
Part Two: Floater
Part Three: My Empire

My Empire (Part Three)

September 24, 2009 in Adultery, Jenni, Life Experience, Marriage, Personal Entries with 8 Comments

My empire came soon enough.

I moved to Portland, Oregon.
I met and married Brian.
I finished college at George Fox University with a 3.96 GPA (Social & Behavioral Sciences).
I was a full-time Worship Pastor for Students.
I oversaw a ministry leadership team of 50+.
I conquered a 3-year battle with “infertility” and had Chance.

I, I, I… me, me, me… I had more than I would ever need. But it wasn’t enough. I ALWAYS had to be better… I always wanted more.

To be honest, I never TRULY thought I was “all that”. In fact, I was certain I was nothing… but I gave everyone around me the appearance that I had “arrived”. If I wasn’t the best… you bet I worked day & night till I was. If I knew I couldn’t be “better” than you in “that”, I made sure I was better than you in something else. I thrived on hearing those words, “Jenni is SO good at ______.” I had EVERYTHING to prove.

… and everything to lose.

To the public, Brian and I were the couple that had it all. We had the big house, the thriving ministry, the coolest friends, the cutest, most well-behaved baby… blah blah blah. But what was REALLY happening behind the scenes? I was a ticking time-bomb.

My worship band was being asked to play extra gigs. We had two recording projects under our belt. I was stealing time away from my family to “DO MORE” for Ministry. This made me feel important… after all, I was doing all this for God, right? In “doing more”, all I was really doing was becoming less. I was burning out.

I left Student Ministries. I was aware enough to know I had lost myself in all of this… but I had NO idea where to start looking for me.

About this same time, we started losing all our “stuff“. I no longer working. Brian’s business was no longer flourishing. We couldn’t keep up with our house payments. We already lost one of our cars to the “repo-man”, and we were in the process of losing our house.

Brian barely had ANY of my time, and when we DID have a “date night”, I was distracted, to say the least. Brian and I rarely talked, but when we DID talk, it often ended in a disagreement. The disagreement would end with me EXPLODING on him. This made it impossible for Brian to EVER want to pursue or be open with me.

I didn’t see it then, but I had become my Mother. I made Brian walk on eggshells. If we’re gonna REALLY be honest, I was just WAITING to see how far I could push Brian till he left me.

He didn’t.

That’s when I did the unthinkable. I dove head-first into an affair. The seven-year-old side of me thought I had finally found someone who really loved me and would pursue me. Finally. But the 28-year old side of me was ready to demolish my beautiful life… every blessing God had ever given me to show His love for me. I was about to ruin everything I had ever worked and hoped for because deep down, I didn’t believe I deserved any of it.

I was destroying my Empire with my own two hands…

(to be continued – stay tuned for the LAST of this series)

————–

Part One: In My Daddy’s Lap
Part Two: Floater

Floater (Part Two)

September 23, 2009 in Childhood, Jenni, Life Experience, Personal Entries with 9 Comments

My parents’ divorce was finalized before I started Middle School.

My Mother sold our house in Seattle and bought a new one in Bellevue (45 minute distance between these two homes). She said the schools were better there so that’s why we were moving.

The next seven years consisted of my Mother transferring me through three different schools: public, private, then public again. Each time, I saw the same thing: groups of friends that have been friends since childhood. I was always the “new” girl and never found “my group”. I wouldn’t say I didn’t have friends… I actually had many friends… but no close friends.

I was a floater…

You see, growing up wasn’t easy for me. We weren’t “well-to-do” but my Mother ALWAYS provided clean clothes, shelter and plenty of food. We NEVER missed a meal and we even got to go on vacations every now and then. But that’s not all a kid needs for healthy growth.

My Mother was way too tapped out to spend quality time with any of us. She was tired all the time, never getting any breaks. She was gone by the time we got up in the morning for school (and I had cheer practice at zero period = 6:30am) and was home after 6pm.

But I had a lot of questions… overwhelming uncertainties. Lots of changes happen for a girl between the ages of 12 and 18. I needed my Mom to speak God’s purpose into me. I needed to hear that even my dreams were limitless. I needed to see that there was grace in mistakes and that mistakes are needed to help us grow. I wanted to be pretty… to be pursued… I needed to matter to someone. I needed to be significant.

However, I didn’t find any of this with my Mother.

Every question I ever asked would be quickly dismissed as “stupid”.
Every disagreement… I was “stubborn”.
Every expressed desire… “selfish”
Every time I had a crush or my heart was broken… “waste of time”
Every pursuit to enhance how I looked… “ugly”

Nothing I ever did was good enough. If I brought home an A-, “Why didn’t you get an A?”

Every thought I ever shared with her would always land us in a full out fight. I shouldn’t say “fight” because, oh… I never fought back. That would mean death… or at least a few good slaps in the face. Instead, I should say it was a “high tension lecture” that ended me with my tail between my legs. It wasn’t safe for me to express anything.

Consciously, I knew I needed companionship and couldn’t do life alone… but subconsciously, I believed I was destined to be alone. I believed if I ever cared about anyone deep enough or long enough, they would eventually leave me… just like my Dad did physically, and how my Mom did emotionally.

I was a floater… in my own home.

I realized if I was going to survive, and I was GOING to, I had to do it myself. I didn’t trust my Mother. I didn’t trust my family. I didn’t trust my friends. Controlling myself and the things around me became my obsession.

I didn’t have anyone… so I found protection within the four walls of building significance for myself.

“I will make myself into somebody! I will make myself irreplaceable!”

… so began the building of my fortress… my empire….

(to be continued)

———–

Part One – “In My Daddy’s Lap”

In My Daddy’s Lap (Part One)

September 23, 2009 in Childhood, Jenni, Life Experience, Personal Entries with 10 Comments

My parents divorced when I was seven.

Wait… actually… I have no idea WHEN they divorced. The accurate statement would be… the announcement of the divorce happened when I was seven.

My childhood before seven was somewhat innocently happy. I remember Dad teaching me how to play “cat’s cradle“ and Mom bringing home the most amazing birthday cakes. But what’s interesting is, I don’t remember much of anything about my family life between the ages of seven and twelve. I have NO MEMORIES of home life in that 5 year life span.

Uh… therapy anyone? Yeah… don’t worry… I’m on that like a fat kid on a box of ding-dongs.

Let’s back up a bit: The day my mother told us they were divorcing, I remember feeling EXTREMELY confused.

I was old enough to know what “divorce” meant, but I never heard OR saw my parents fight. Heck… I barely remembered ever seeing them talk. I never thought the divorce was my fault, but I didn’t know WHY they needed a divorce since everything seemed “fine”. What confused me even more was why my Mom pulled us three girls into my bedroom to tell us ALONE when my Dad was sitting right in the living room watching football. ”Isn’t this something they should be doing together?” I kept asking myself.

It felt like an hour had passed in that room. I didn’t hear a thing that was said. I remember my sister, Renee, crying and my baby sister, Helen, crawling all over the place. That baby had no clue our world was about to drastically change. All I wanted to do was get OUT of that room and jump into my Dad’s lap.

Once the “meeting” was over… I did just that.

My sister, Renee, and I ran and jumped into my Dad’s lap. I remember Renee asking him,

“Why, Daddy?… WHY? Why are you leaving us?”

Then I heard the words I would never forget:

“Because this is what your Mom wants.”

Then, the unimaginable happened. My Dad broke down and cried…

I had NEVER seen my Dad cry. NEVER…

in the center of the couch of our family room…
with football television as a faint background noise…
we sat…
weeping…
in my father’s lap for the very last time.

Something inside me died that day.

At age seven, sitting there for the last time ever in my Daddy’s lap, I made my first lifetime decision:

I was NEVER going to let anyone make decisions like this for me.
NO ONE would ever make me cry again.

And this ONE single decision ruled my life for the next 23 years…

(… to be continued…)

Cabbage Patch Doll

September 22, 2009 in Childhood, Jenni, Life Experience, Personal Entries with 8 Comments

I was 5 years old, in Kindergarten, when I really started to notice how different I was. I guess it didn’t help that I was JUST starting to get the hang of the English language, but I noticed how quickly and easily everyone befriended each other.

Everyone, but me…

As a child, I didn’t understand that it was because it was hard to communicate with me… I just thought it was because I didn’t have the same stuff they had.

Everyone had blonde hair, blue eyes… maybe even a sprinkle here and there of a gorgeous brunette or a cutie patootie freckled red-head. Everyone was unmistakably “normal”. Me? I had a homemade Asian bowl-cut hairstyle.

I was HONG-KONG-A-FIDE! (I don’t know what that means… just go with it)

It was about this time that “Show and Tell” was popular. Every little girl seemed to have a new Cabbage Patch Dolls.

Since I was already overly aware I didn’t fit in, my 5 year-old mind told me, “If you have a Cabbage Patch Doll, you’ll be like everyone else.”

I begged my parents. I mean BEGGED!!! But the same answer came out of their mouths as usual.

“We just don’t have the extra money.”

I was devastated. I hated being me.

Fast forward to first grade. It’s my birthday. HUGE package. ”I bet it’s more clothes.” I opened the package.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!! It’s a Cabbage Patch Doll!!!” No… really… I screamed. I remember this.

I was FINALLY going to be “normal”. I was finally going to fit in and not feel so alone. I was finally like EVERYONE ELSE!!!

Imagine my devastation when I brought my little “ticket-to-normalcy” to school and discovered I was still the same me as the many days before. The one thing I was certain would make me somebody, only made me feel more like an absolute NOBODY. I was STILL the kid with the Hong Kong bowl-cut. I was still “not-the-norm”.

How often do I try harder than I need, to be “the norm” when what God’s desire is for me is to be genuinely, authentically ME?

Today… I’m grateful I am different. Today… I’m thankful my story is not like everyone else’s. I’m ecstatic that Brian & My Story isn’t going to be like everyone else’s. God didn’t create us to be “normal”… He created us to be UNIQUE and completely pleasing to Him.

Nothing I own defines me.
Nothing I know defines me.
No one I know defines me.
Only GOD defines me.

My Cabbage Patch Doll was a lie. A lie I believed would make me important, when what it really was… was an idol.

What’s YOUR Cabbage Patch Doll?
Are you ready to get rid of it with me?