JennieGScott.com - Page 7 of 22 - Enjoying the Journey
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20.04.2017

  There is no part of my natural self that wants to forgive. When someone has wronged me, hurting my heart and damaging my soul, my innate desire is to get even. I want them to hurt like I have hurt, and I want to feel justified in holding on to the anger. I want to tell myself that their behavior just means they're bad people, and I want to be OK with turning my back on them forever. I don't want to forgive them. I want to reduce the totality of their lives to their very worst acts, and I want to hold myself up in superiority over them. I want to believe I could never do what they've done, and I want to march on through my life holding what they've done against them. That's what I want to do. But I can't. I follow Jesus, and Jesus commands me to forgive. His ways definitely are not mine, and his way is always forgiveness. Unforgiveness in my heart always remains a festering wound in my life, and the infection it leaks always ends up making me sick. It slowly fills me with contempt and resentment, and the bitterness over what happened consumes me. Holding back from...

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03.04.2017

  Take a deep breath, Mama. It's going to be ok. Whatever you did or said today isn't going to ruin your kids. Whatever you bellowed or burned last night doesn't define you. Having a bad day doesn't mean you're a bad mom. I know you feel like you're messing it all up, and I know how you convince yourself that you just don't have what it takes. But you're not, and you do. Being a mama is a sacred calling, and it's also a great sacrifice. Every day, we mamas give up a lot. We sacrifice sleep, clean kitchen counters, hot meals, and the certainty that we're doing things well. Because if there's one thing I know about mothers, it's that we constantly analyze and evaluate ourselves, and we obsess over our mistakes. And goodness knows, we make plenty of them. This week alone, my failures could fill a page. I've fed my kids fast food for dinner, fussed at them for moving too slowly, yelled at them for running in the house, washed the same load of laundry twice because I forgot about it fermenting in the washing machine, gotten irritated when they forgot to pack their lunches for school, rolled my eyes when they yelled my name...

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28.03.2017

  My baby girl is getting hair in her armpits. Not just peach fuzz, but honest to goodness hair - hair that's getting darker and longer every day. There's a razor in her very near future, and I can't take it. My baby boy is getting wisps of dark hair on his upper lip, and his legs are starting to look like a teenager's. My babies are changing right in front of my eyes, and my mama heart is beating fast. We can't be here already. We can't be at shaving, puberty, bodily changes and hormones. It can't be time. And I'm just not ready. Somebody should have warned me. Somebody should have said how fast they grow up...

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22.03.2017

  If you've been around here a while, you know I love to read. Seriously. So far in 2017, I've read 17 books, and I wanted to share the best of those with you in case you need some recommendations. Here are the nine I think are worth your money! When Crickets Cry by Charles Martin. (Y'all, if you've never read anything by this man, start now. Love his writing!) Essentialism by Greg McKeown. (If you are a person who feels overwhelmed with all you have going on in life, this book will remind you of the need to simplify, and it will help you with practical steps to do so.) The Pearl That Broke Its Shell by Nadia Hashimi. (Really interesting story about 2 generations of females in Afghanistan who have to disguise themselves as males.) Irena's Children by Tiler J. Mazzeo. (This is the true story of a woman who is best compared to a female Schindler. She saved 2500 Jewish children in Warsaw during WWII.) Water From My Heart by Charles Martin. (I loved this one because it's set in Nicaragua, where I've been twice. Beautiful redemption story.) No More Faking Fine by Esther Fleece. (LOVED this one -...

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09.03.2017

  Dear Divorced Mom, It sucks, doesn't it? This whole being divorced thing. Whether you wanted to be or not, here you are. A mom who used to be married to her kids' dad and now isn't. The divorce changed everything, didn't it? Your life as you used to know it is gone, and whether that's a good or bad thing, nothing is the same. Holidays are different. Schedules are different. Family dynamics are different. You feel like a failure, sometimes, don't you? You feel like less of a mom because your kids aren't always with you. Secretly, you feel like a fraud and a part-time parent. You think about the time you miss with your kids and are insanely jealous of people who don't have to spend weekends without their babies. You hate using a calendar to keep track of the days they're gone and the vacations they're taking without you. You cringe and feel embarrassed whenever someone asks, "Do you have the kids this weekend?" You know it's not natural. You know they should be under your roof. You walk into their empty rooms and feel an aching sadness that doesn't end until they walk back through your door. You feel sometimes that "divorced" defines who you are. It...

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27.02.2017

  The song lyrics rang through my earbuds as I ran, repeating the Scriptures that I'm fearfully and wonderfully made. I nearly threw the earbuds across the sidewalk. I felt anything but wonderfully made. I felt like a mess, and I felt like crying. That morning as I dressed for my run, I saw stretch marks across my hips. Wrinkles around my eyes. Gray hair littering the brown. The mirror showed me the reality of my body, and the reality was hard to take. I saw a mother past her physical prime, one who keeps drifting steadily away from what the world says is beautiful. As the song played in my ears, I felt the elastic of my shorts cutting into my thickened waist, and I felt my body protesting the workout I was determined to master. The words I heard didn't match the emotions I felt, and I scoffed at what the Scriptures said was true. Nothing about me was wonderful, and everything about me was fading. I huffed around the track, trying to improve the physical me, and I struggled greatly to believe that even as I am, I am loved. The Creator of all I see formed me in the womb. He saw me in the hidden place. My...

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20.02.2017

  It's time we stop lying to God, and it's time we quit withholding the truth of how we're doing from the One who already knows. We've learned to keep our real emotions stuffed inside, haven't we? When people ask how we are, we've learned they don't really want to know. They want us to answer with the socially acceptable "Fine," and we know if we dared to unload what's really on our hearts, they'd run in terror and never ask us again. You know what my "fine" was hiding this week? I feel like there's an anvil on my shoulders pushing me into the dirt. I can't shake the feeling that every decision I make as a mother is ruining my children. This nearly 37 year old body has seen its better days, and I need to just get rid of every mirror in my house. It's hard to believe God could ever look at me and see anything worth loving when others who were supposed to love me forever didn't.   And that's just the tip of the iceberg. I'm keeping back the really good ones. No, we don't need to unload our deepest struggles on unsuspecting acquaintances, but we do need to take them somewhere...

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09.02.2017

  Husbands, do you know how very important you are to your wives? Not just for practical reasons like killing spiders and changing the oil, but for heart reasons? For helping her believe she matters? For pushing her to reach her dreams? In a time when many voices are shouting to your wife, your voice matters most. Your words can make or break her. The way you treat her can help her become the best version of herself or a shadow of who she should be. Women in 2017 are fiercely independent and strongly opinionated, but we are also deeply in need of the love of our men, and these two facts are not mutually exclusive. We are strong and we are needy, and our needs are not a weakness. They are a sign we were created to live in community with others, particularly with the men who were created to be ours. There are many things we want you to know, but we don't know how to tell you. We want to help you understand us, but we're afraid of being a burden. Even to you. We want you to know these things: We want you to pursue us and plan for us. When...

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03.02.2017

  Intrigued by the trailer for Martin Scorsese's new film, Silence, I recently ordered the book it is based on by Shusaku Endo, a Japanese author. I won't characterize it as a fun read by any stretch, but it was a book I couldn't put down and that has kept me thinking. The plot centers around a Portuguese priest who travels to Japan to spread Christianity, which is illegal and punishable by death at the time. After hiding successfully for a short time, the priest (Sebastian Rodrigues) is eventually arrested and imprisoned. From his captivity, he is forced to watch the brutal punishment and murder of other believers, and he is told that if he will only renounce his faith, the torture will stop. I highly recommend that every American Christian read this novel, and here are five thoughts I can't shake: We know nothing of truly suffering for our faith. We have, in many ways, an easy Christianity, and this book reminded me of all I take for granted. Faith isn't true unless it is tested. Rodrigues himself struggles with this truth, and although he believes he will withstand the torture with faith unscathed, he doesn't. I don't know what I would...

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02.02.2017

    The decision to love another human being is seldom a conscious one, and falling in love with my husband certainly wasn’t an item on my to-do list. I didn’t anticipate loving him, didn’t want to have to trust him, and truthfully didn’t even think love could happen for me again. So when he looked me straight in the eyes that Christmas night and said “I love you,” my life changed forever. That moment began a journey of learning that real love doesn’t look like it does in the movies, and it taught me that God’s love is always redemptive and is always better than Hollywood’s. When my husband walked into my life, I was a woman deeply wounded. A divorce after ten years of marriage had left me shattered and weak, struggling to understand who I was now and where my life was headed. I believed I was unlovable, knew I was damaged goods, and trusted I’d always be alone. My brokenness was my story, and my sadness was my burden. Love? It just wasn’t for me. A happy ending wouldn’t be my story. But God intervened, as He is prone to do, and He changed the narrative I had written for myself. He gently...

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