Two Bowls of Cereal
I’m going to share with you a story. It is terribly uncomfortable and a bit humiliating, but my complete honesty is necessary in what God is teaching me today. I really don't want you to feel sorry for me at all. The story is simply an avenue to what might bolster the faith in my heart and yours.
In my lifetime, I have seen want and plenty. I have been both spoiled with all kinds of material things and financial blessings, and I have also known what it’s like to have to sell plasma to buy groceries. I have never been afraid to work hard. I have reaped financial benefits, had fine things, traveled well, been able to shop or eat at nice restaurants without thinking about the balance in my checking account. And wow, you don't realize what a huge blessing that is until you are at the grocery store looking in your cart, deciding whether to put back the coffee or broccoli because you have exactly $46 in your bank account which has to last until next week. (Coffee is the clear winner in this scenario.)
Before Jon passed away, we had spent over a year selling almost everything we had and building a home in Nicaragua. We had moved there in January, less than 3 months before he took his own life. At that time, I was making decent money, actually pretty good money. I was full of life, brimming with self-confidence, working my business, checks were growing each month, and it was a wonderful feeling to see everything falling into place and working in our favor. We were never greedy because there was a mutual understanding that this was not purely for our enjoyment, but that God had plans for us and was providing, making a way.
In the past 14 months, my situation has changed drastically. My income has gradually gone down each month, to the point that I am unable to provide for my own family without constantly hocking jewelry or paintings, or whatever I can find to sell. Just call me Gypsy Jenn! And thank you, by the way, if you're one of my proud owners of some of this stuff. 😘 (Eek! I just found the emoji button!!!! I promise not to overuse it! 😆😁🙏😂) Anyway, I now bring in about 20% of what I was making when Jon died. He had no life insurance because it was insanely expensive with his bipolar diagnosis, and we had no savings because we had spent everything moving to Nicaragua. It is now up to me to figure out the rest, which has proved to be quite a wearisome task while bearing the load of profound grief.
In one instant, I went from being the happily married woman living near the beach in a foreign country, to the widow living in a small messy apartment, with zero drive, zero motivation, zero ambition, zero self-confidence, and zero ability. I know, I know…."zero" is an exaggeration, but that is how it feels most days. As I sit here right now, my floor is covered in craft supplies, the same ones that have been there for 4 days, the same ones I have promised myself for the past 4 days that I was going to finish and clean-up. I'm hoping they will assimilate themselves into some gorgeous irresistible accessories for me to sell next week. So far, no luck! (Really resisting the urge to use emojis right now!!!)
For the past few months, as I have watched my financial situation become less and less certain, I have lived in a state of anxiety and panic. I wake up in the middle of the night, heart pounding, racing thoughts, feeling like such a loser for being in this place now. I look myself in the mirror and think, “Wow, Jenn…..you are pathetic.” And my mind repeatedly goes back to a time when I felt EXACTLY this same way.
Before Jon passed away, we had spent over a year selling almost everything we had and building a home in Nicaragua. We had moved there in January, less than 3 months before he took his own life. At that time, I was making decent money, actually pretty good money. I was full of life, brimming with self-confidence, working my business, checks were growing each month, and it was a wonderful feeling to see everything falling into place and working in our favor. We were never greedy because there was a mutual understanding that this was not purely for our enjoyment, but that God had plans for us and was providing, making a way.
In the past 14 months, my situation has changed drastically. My income has gradually gone down each month, to the point that I am unable to provide for my own family without constantly hocking jewelry or paintings, or whatever I can find to sell. Just call me Gypsy Jenn! And thank you, by the way, if you're one of my proud owners of some of this stuff. 😘 (Eek! I just found the emoji button!!!! I promise not to overuse it! 😆😁🙏😂) Anyway, I now bring in about 20% of what I was making when Jon died. He had no life insurance because it was insanely expensive with his bipolar diagnosis, and we had no savings because we had spent everything moving to Nicaragua. It is now up to me to figure out the rest, which has proved to be quite a wearisome task while bearing the load of profound grief.
In one instant, I went from being the happily married woman living near the beach in a foreign country, to the widow living in a small messy apartment, with zero drive, zero motivation, zero ambition, zero self-confidence, and zero ability. I know, I know…."zero" is an exaggeration, but that is how it feels most days. As I sit here right now, my floor is covered in craft supplies, the same ones that have been there for 4 days, the same ones I have promised myself for the past 4 days that I was going to finish and clean-up. I'm hoping they will assimilate themselves into some gorgeous irresistible accessories for me to sell next week. So far, no luck! (Really resisting the urge to use emojis right now!!!)
For the past few months, as I have watched my financial situation become less and less certain, I have lived in a state of anxiety and panic. I wake up in the middle of the night, heart pounding, racing thoughts, feeling like such a loser for being in this place now. I look myself in the mirror and think, “Wow, Jenn…..you are pathetic.” And my mind repeatedly goes back to a time when I felt EXACTLY this same way.
In March 2006, McCartney was 4 and Jordan was 7. Jeff and I were in the middle of a divorce, we had lost our home, our car, and just about everything….which is a very long story for another time - or for never, hopefully. Anyway, I had been working 80+ hours a week to keep things together, unaware of how badly they were falling apart. A friend thought we could use a little getaway and bought the kids and I train tickets to Virginia to visit one of my closest friends. The train ride was amazing! It was a wonderful adventure for two small children and it was such fun for me to watch them reveling in this new experience.
I had brought a bag filled with snacks, coloring books and games, but apparently had underestimated how much we would need for the two day journey. On the 2nd night, the fun was wearing off as we switched trains for the 2nd time and tried to find a place to settle in. The kids were hungry and tired of fruit snacks and peanut butter crackers. There was a snack bar and what they really wanted was one of those beautifully pre-packed, bright colored, plastic bowls of cereal. I looked in my purse, hoping that some money had magically materialized, but instead I saw the same dollar and change that I had been there for 2 days. “It’s fine….I’ll just use the credit card,” assuming I still had $10 available. (Ugh…to this day, I cannot recount this story without tears.) We got in the snack bar line, each child had their cereal and a little carton of milk. I got to the front of the line to pay and was told they didn’t take cards, only cash. I argued with the cashier to no avail and finally had to look at those two little tired faces and say, “Sorry, guys! Go put the cereal back.” They were getting cranky, McCartney already had tears in her eyes and said, “Whyyyy?” I wanted to say, “Because your mom is a big fat loser,” but at that very moment, the man behind us in line handed the cashier enough money to pay for their cereal. Of course I shook my head, but he insisted, so we thanked him profusely and headed to a table to eat. This may seem like a small thing, but it was the worst, most humiliating feeling to be unable to buy my kids some cereal, to have to rely on the kindness of a stranger. And then, at the same time, there’s this - the kindness of the stranger. What about that? My kids didn’t go without that night. In fact, they got exactly what they wanted. It wasn’t from me, but God did provide. The need was met. Why does my focus tend to land on what I am unable to do, rather than what God does?
I mean, I know God is BIG and He does big things.. I know He still does miracles, He provides. I can look back over my life and see it again and again, but somehow I find myself wondering each day if His grace has run out? "You did this for us last month God, so I really hate to ask you again, but....." Or, "I see how you have blessed that sister over there, and how you've turned that situation around, and I know I'm nothing special, but do you think, just maybe you might do the same for me? Just maybe?" Ugh...It really sounds pathetic when I type it out like this. I'm sure that's what the Holy Spirit thinks when those thoughts pop up in my head. Like, "So, we're still doing this? Really, Jenn?"
I had brought a bag filled with snacks, coloring books and games, but apparently had underestimated how much we would need for the two day journey. On the 2nd night, the fun was wearing off as we switched trains for the 2nd time and tried to find a place to settle in. The kids were hungry and tired of fruit snacks and peanut butter crackers. There was a snack bar and what they really wanted was one of those beautifully pre-packed, bright colored, plastic bowls of cereal. I looked in my purse, hoping that some money had magically materialized, but instead I saw the same dollar and change that I had been there for 2 days. “It’s fine….I’ll just use the credit card,” assuming I still had $10 available. (Ugh…to this day, I cannot recount this story without tears.) We got in the snack bar line, each child had their cereal and a little carton of milk. I got to the front of the line to pay and was told they didn’t take cards, only cash. I argued with the cashier to no avail and finally had to look at those two little tired faces and say, “Sorry, guys! Go put the cereal back.” They were getting cranky, McCartney already had tears in her eyes and said, “Whyyyy?” I wanted to say, “Because your mom is a big fat loser,” but at that very moment, the man behind us in line handed the cashier enough money to pay for their cereal. Of course I shook my head, but he insisted, so we thanked him profusely and headed to a table to eat. This may seem like a small thing, but it was the worst, most humiliating feeling to be unable to buy my kids some cereal, to have to rely on the kindness of a stranger. And then, at the same time, there’s this - the kindness of the stranger. What about that? My kids didn’t go without that night. In fact, they got exactly what they wanted. It wasn’t from me, but God did provide. The need was met. Why does my focus tend to land on what I am unable to do, rather than what God does?
I mean, I know God is BIG and He does big things.. I know He still does miracles, He provides. I can look back over my life and see it again and again, but somehow I find myself wondering each day if His grace has run out? "You did this for us last month God, so I really hate to ask you again, but....." Or, "I see how you have blessed that sister over there, and how you've turned that situation around, and I know I'm nothing special, but do you think, just maybe you might do the same for me? Just maybe?" Ugh...It really sounds pathetic when I type it out like this. I'm sure that's what the Holy Spirit thinks when those thoughts pop up in my head. Like, "So, we're still doing this? Really, Jenn?"
Good news though...He doesn't give up on us, even the most feeble and contemptible of us. He has prompted me and challenged me lately to shift my focus. When I wake up in a panic, wondering how I’m going to pay a bill or take care of some need, I try to remember God’s faithfulness instead and recount the multiple times He has provided and cared for us. It takes a conscious effort, but I say, “THANK YOU!”...for what He did yesterday and what He's doing today. Thank you for taking care of this thing, and that, making sure we have a roof over our heads, and gas in our cars. We made it through last month and paid all the bills on time even though I didn’t know how it would happen! Thank you!” Just the other day, I was fretting about July, knowing I was a few hundred dollars short and wondering what I was going to do. I was thanking God for how He was providing for us while I was staring at my bank account, trying to rearrange the sad little numbers. A few minutes later, Jordan came in the door and handed me an envelope. I had completely forgotten about a refund I was due from the IRS for overpaying 2016 taxes. For “some reason” it had been held up, and though I had expected it in March, did not come until this week! Don’t you think that God knew back in March that I was going to need that money in July, so he orchestrated a little delay to make sure we would have it? Makes me chuckle. He’s really quite clever.
If you are like me and can relate to this at all, just know we are in good company! We are not the first people to forget God’s faithfulness, nor the first to fret and worry in the face of adversity. If you read Joshua 24, or much of the Old Testament, for that matter, it’s basically God saying, “Hey, Israelites! Don’t you remember when I parted the Red Sea, and drown Pharoah’s army as they were chasing after you? Did you forget how I saved you in the dessert, literally causing bread to rain from the sky and water to come out of a rock? How about all the times I brought you out of slavery, fought your battles, saved you from this enemy and that? Do you not see that you now live in homes you didn’t build, enjoying vineyards you didn’t plant and plenty you yourself did not provide? How short is your memory?? Do you not think I will do it again? Enjoy the security of KNOWING the God you serve. Resist the nonsense of fear and worry. Focus on me.” And I hear Him saying to me, "Ok, my Jenni, so you don't have a husband now. You have me. Do you not think I will part the Red Sea for you, too?"
Now it’s my turn to look back at my life and see that God has always provided, always protected, always blessed us. For starters, I have two healthy children, two amazing human beings who are kind, compassionate, funny and smart! Though they have experienced unfathomable losses in their short lives, they are strong and secure in their faith. I have the support of an amazing family, great friends and an extended church family that prays for us and loves on us daily. If I look back over the hard times in my life, I see a constant thread of God’s provision, how He went before me, making a way, both physically and emotionally. When we lost our house, we were able to move to a rent house in the same neighborhood, just around the corner. When I didn’t know how I was going to buy groceries, an anonymous envelope would come in the mail with an HEB gift card. When I couldn’t buy my kids the Christmas presents they wanted, a giant box of gifts showed up on our front porch. When I thought my voice had been forever silenced, He extended grace, put a microphone in my hand and gave me back the gift of worship. When I didn’t know how I could survive 10 minutes without the love of my life, or how I could walk the treacherous road of grief, he scooped me up and carried me…..one day, then the next, then the next. When my heart was blown to bits and I lay bloodied and beaten in the arena of life, begging for it all to end, He whispered, “I’m here. I will never leave you, and I will be enough. I promise.” I could recount for days the numerous ways and moments He has provided. He has always been there, always been good, always faithful, always kind, always loving, always generous. I cannot look at my life without seeing God’s fingerprints everywhere. From the big stuff, the hard stuff, the life-altering stuff, all the way down to two little bowls of cereal on a train to Virginia.
“For your Creator will be your husband; the LORD of Heaven's Armies
is his name! He is your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel,
the God of all the earth.” Isaiah 54:5
"Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace,
that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."
Hebrews 4:16
is his name! He is your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel,
the God of all the earth.” Isaiah 54:5
"Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace,
that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."
Hebrews 4:16
Here are my two little train companions about a year later.
These guys are the reason I don't give up.
This one touched me deeply, keep on girl!
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