I am definitely not pro-choice. And I am not here to begin a debate with those who are. What I am upset about this morning is the fact that people have to tone down their wording and offer me a sweet sticker so the debate is not so heated. I am not worried if somebody hates me because I choose life over choice.

   What I am concerned about is this. Some of those women/girls who choose life over choice because of our "concerned" words go on to live in poverty because of their choices. And many "sweet" Christians who told them not to kill their unborn child tell them social services will help them with that child. It infuriates me.

   If you are holy enough to talk some poor young thing out of abortion, then be holy enough to help her find help from other HOLIES! Just my humble opinion. And also, if that beautiful woman decides to save the baby's life, but not keep the baby, where are you then? Holy person? I know there are plenty of people out there who are willing to literally snatch up those newborn babies and give them a wonderful home. But what about the children who have not been aborted and Mommy thought she could handle being a mommy but then couldn't? And now her four year old FAS is on her last nerve. She can't do it now. And the child goes to foster care- but us HOLIES are too BUSY to take the time and take a child into our own homes.

   Oh but Jae, you are being too judgmental. No I'm not. I'm keeping it as real as you folks who carry picket signs and run your mouths about saving that child's life. The invisible child in the picture above is just as invisible if mommy decides to choose life but then can't care for her child. So it's up to us to provide services beyond a sonogram to see her baby has fingernails. There need to be more places like Morning Center in Charlotte, NC.

   People need to also care about the kids who are at-risk and have been taken away from the mommies who tried.
   But that's not my calling, Mama Jae.
   Bull puckey.
   Get on your knees and pray.

   I love ya'll. I know I sound harsh right now. But when it comes to the fatherless, I have a burning passion. Orphans need good Christian homes where they are safe and loved, and never treated like they are a burden or a label. Even if they have a label.

   Not the world's best/sweetest adoption message. I know. But if we sugarcoat it and hand it out in the form of flyers and television ads people say, "Awe." and then accidentally throw away the telephone number.

   My final rant, and then I promise I will leave you alone today, if you are going to yell about the rights of the unborn child- make sure you care enough about that unborn life to go the extra mile. Don't just be another holier than thou voice shouting (or even whispering) in those young girls' lives. Be a beacon of light and hope that surrounds and comforts them through whatever decisions they make. Everybody screws up. Pray today and ask God to show you how to help. I promise, it will be a rough road for everyone involved. But it will be the sweetest thing you could ever do for a child. Jesus said when you offer even a glass of water to the littles, you won't lose your reward.

Thanks and God bless.
Jeannette

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   This morning I got up and saw a black coat on the floor and mistook it for my (deceased) dog. I bawled like a baby. I know, I do that frequently in my middle age. Then I saw a video from an amazing blog called Life Suckers, and I laughed until I peed a little (something else moms do in their forties- get over it). It inspired me, and lifted my spirits. I was down because as a grandma/mom I forget sometimes-

   Today I just want to love on mommies who are doing the middle-aged grandparent/parenthood thing. Those moms who thought when they turned the big FOUR-OH that they would be riding on the back of a Harley instead of wiping tushies and smelling like pee because they don't make a diaper that your kid can't explode.

   Or my own personal fave, living the dream author lifestyle. The one where you are sitting in the biggest Barnes and Noble on the planet signing books for adoring fans. NOT SO MUCH.  It's a nice notion, but whether it happens or not, I have a huge blessing who wakes up in the mornings and kisses and hugs me until my insides melt.

   There are days when I ask God, "Did I do something so wrong as a child that I had to do parenthood TWICE?"
 
   Although I am just kidding when I say that stuff, there are moments when I feel like I may never survive this beautiful baby doll of mine. I feel overwhelmed. Yes, me, Super Mom. I said it. Are you happy? I'm human. My cape got torn when I was climbing down the well to help Lassie save Timmy, and all my superpowers went away. Ugh.

   Instead of wearing glitter and long flowing scarves with the perfect matching sweater and my favorite pair of hoop earrings (and oh my gosh, jeans that fit) to those pretend giant book-signing gigs; I am lucky if I get to change out of my day sweats and into my nights... I just knew at age forty I would be going out to have coffee with the girls (you know, the ones I imagined because I never actually made it out with the first round of kids to MAKE those friends. Because I was too busy being an introvert and hiding behind five teenagers). Nope. Not me. I'm giving parenthood a second go round.


   Maybe that's you. Maybe you are wondering why others are so intimidated or overwhelmed by you that they never even pick up a phone and say do you need a cuppa? It's not you honey. Maybe they aren't too snobby for us? Maybe they know they can't own up the way we do?

   Whatever the answer to our loneliness is I gotta' tell you, middle-aged Princess, you got this too. God's got your back. He's got answers. Just sit still (after your little blessing passes out face down) and listen.
 
   As I'm typing this, Houdini a.k.a. Slevin broke loose again. It's okay though. He isn't purposely being a pain in the butt. Maybe he just knew today Mommy really misses his sissy. You never know.

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   Every child, at one point in life or another, has a disagreement with their father. Whether he be right, or they are- disagreements left unresolved can lead to a lifetime of bitterness and unforgiveness. It bubbles over into the rest of  life, and eats away at the right to make just and whole decisions. Take it from somebody who knows, and was left holding a truck load of regrets over Dad.
   You may never understand why your father said the things he did. You may not know how close he truly felt to you. He may not have been able to tell you, because his own father's only mode of communication was abuse and alcoholism and your dad was slapped around for telling it how it was. You just never know.
   Perhaps he was trying to protect you from the things you knew were not good for your life. Or maybe, just maybe he was helping history not to repeat itself. And now that you have gone astray from his wisdom, your life has turned upside down, filled with despair.
   Don't wait around to make things right. If he wasn't abusive toward you (and even if words cut your heart like a knife at some point in time), then give him the benefit of the doubt. Even if he was abusive long ago, your kind, forgiving heart may be what stands between him and a peaceful rest in heaven.
   Dads aren't perfect. They do the best they can with what they have. Sometimes they work two jobs to make ends meet and you have to stand up to help them for a month or two. Don't spend the rest of your life dragging his name through the mud. Especially when you know he was there for you when everyone else bailed.
   Some dads have to make the decision to give up their child for another family to raise. Perhaps he made a poor choice at that time in life and didn't want to make it worse by trying to keep his child with him during that low point. Forgive him. Be grateful the Lord saw fit to place you with another family, or another dad.
   I had a dad who wasn't the greatest at communicating. His words often left me scratching my head. When he did have words, they came in two hour lectures. I would get so angry at the fact that he would beat those words to death when I was a teen. Now I would give anything to hear just one of what I used to call his sermons. Thirteen years after his death, I still struggle with regret, and sometimes even staying in forgiveness of myself.
   I know this much, though. I won't make the same mistake with my Mama. She turned sixty-eight yesterday. She is still spry and full of energy, but she isn't forty anymore. One morning (hopefully many more years from now) I will have to wake up and make peace with the fact that she's gone too. I have been thinking about that fact lately. So even if I don't always agree with my mama, I want to be a part of her life. I want to let her know that I cherish and honor her while she is still among the living.
   Our families are not ever going to be perfect. If you have one that is less than so, please just embrace their faults and imperfections. It is part of what makes a family who they are. Yes, pray that those faults and imperfections are rectified before the Lord. But enjoy their unperfect love. There was only One who ever had it right... and He isn't human.

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The other day I found myself praying about "Christmas". I asked the Heavenly Father what He wanted me to do about a certain little sweetheart for this year. I don't want to buy things that will be a waste of money. That she will not use beyond the unwrapping stage- or even the first week of owning such trinkets. 

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This morning, as hubby went to leave this house- he woke me to kiss me good-bye. He looked into my eyes and he said, "I love you very much."

"I love you honey. We have to do what it takes to get to this thing."

"I know."

And he left.

I laid there for half an hour thinking about those two words.


As much as this house is a disaster because of all the things I have to do right now. As much as I nag him to do what is right. As much as I push him. As much as the pruning process we have been going through has pushed us to the wall. The absolute pressure of facing a room full of people I don't know to convince them they have to help us get this thing moving...


I fell back asleep and I had a dream about the one thing that is holding me back. Hubby and I have been working together to rid my life of that "one thing". It comes back to haunt me every time good is about to come. I woke feeling torn and I am now more determined than ever that it is the one thing the devil uses against me most (in the form of a broken heart). I woke insisting that the one thing be removed from me forever.
When I called my friend to tell her some good news, she shared a word with me. She said she knew it was for me and she had to read it. I listened carefully. She didn't send it to me in an email. SHE READ IT OVER ME. It was a word of encouragement from the Lord. And as soon as she began to read it, I felt God's love and anointing pour over me. I began to cry cleansing tears. I felt His words sink deep into my being, and in doing so, it ripped a large part of that ONE THING out of me. A clean and holy wind blew into me.
I know we still have work to do. We are never a completely finished product until we meet face to face with Jesus Christ.

Later I read that Word for myself. I sent it to a writer friend to share what God had done for me today. She immediately wrote me back and said it was a word for her as well. Praise be to the Lord our God!

Then I settled down for a bit of Psychology. Seven minutes later I had a pretty little girl on my lap wanting something to do. I found a tablet of drawing paper. I thought about it. She gets bored after a while with each project. But I couldn't find the glue stick. Within minutes she produced the basket that has the glue stick inside. I smiled. She got all excited. She's never used a glue stick before. I know this may sound ridiculously mundane to some who read this, but hear me. Please.

I went to the drawer with the hole punches inside. I pulled out the one with a flower punch on one side and a heart (her shrashorite shape). I got some pretty paper and I showed her how to use the hole punch and the glue stick. She could barely contain herself.
I looked at her and said, "This is glue."
I then pointed to the hearts and I said,

"LOVE is the GLUE that binds a family together."

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I don't have much time anymore for real art. I can't remember the last time I actually painted a picture that wasn't rushed or scribbled on by tiny hands. But this past weekend my little pirate and I got to make some beautiful pumpkins with our Merriweather and even though we had a few issues (they are both two), it was the most fun I have had in a while. We still have to finish her other two pumpkins (they are actually spaghetti squash that grew wild in Nana's backyard but we won't tell her that) and I found some grapevine this morning I twisted into the shape of a flower bloom while we were playing at the creek.

It is good to at least be able to create something. She helps me find special shaped rocks and sticks (that look like driftwood coming up out of the creek bed) and we come home and make little things from them. So even though I have a demanding (the definition of a two year old) child on my hands, we can still live the creative life. We only have to be determined that we can find common ground. You don't touch Mommy's art supplies and I won't move your special rocks...

Above left is a picture of her in her pirate hat. When we tied it on her head, she said, "I need a pirate ship."

You and me both hon. Maybe it's time to go to Lowe's (since her cardboard house is long gone) and fashion ourselves a get-away vessel?

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Today I am working on the final edit before I see my brain child (more like my heart child) in print. I waited in patience for several seasons before I walked away from a traditional publisher, and am now becoming my own Indie name. I don't know what the future holds for this tiny imprint I am about to start. It's not up to me.

What I do know, realize, remember as I go back through Out of Egypt, His Children Come is that I must first minister to myself.

I know.

That sounds selfish. But hear my thoughts.

I have read this story from beginning to end a hundred times or more. I wrote it, lost it in a computer crash, rewrote it, and lost it again when my daughter caused my computer (despite a good virus protection program) to have the mother of all viruses. I was then forced to decide I would never give up on this trilogy.

That's it's name, and as I rewrote it and edited the living snot out of it, I cried each time I worked within it's pages. It brought me to extremely emotional sessions of weeping. And that's kind of the point of writing. If it doesn't make you want to keep going, neither will it cause the reader to do the same. If you can't even feel the Spirit of God as you type the words of a Christian book, then perhaps it's time to fast and pray.

A Christian author's first and most important job is not to make money or become famous. If they reach that point then hallelujah, but their job is not a job at all. It is a calling. The author whose calling is of God is to teach, preach (sort of), give word from God, get people saved and delivered, and revive and heal the brokenness within the reader. No, we are not to fix it all and be psychologists. Yes, we are to minister to the weakest areas within them.

My prayer has always been that people get saved and/or delivered from the stuff they struggle with through reading the words I have been given to speak. I don't want to write for me. I wrestled with God about even putting my photograph on the back of the book. Of course He won. I will go to see one of my favorite photographers sometime in the next few weeks. And maybe my photo will just be to put her work on the back of a book. Who knows. I only want to obey.

So as I sit here and type and pray fiercely because I don't even have the money to pay a professional editor to make my work zing, my hope rests in the Lord. May every word I type, every semicolon and indented paragraph, resonate His glory and tell His story. In Jesus' name. There is no other reason to do that which I do. Grammar crown or no, onward this child shall go.

Amen.

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There is this tiny little distraction that eats up most of my hours per day. I have found it hard to create much art- and stories come in bites now instead of chapters. But one look at that face will tell anyone why I don't mind.

Her Majesty wants to do whatever I am doing. We spend more time in nature, in creeks, etc. than we do creating art, mostly because she is two and we are already having artistic differences. Lately everything is boo-gween. I don't even know where she learned blue-green except that when she was younger I would try to color a project we were working on blue, and she would rip the color out of my hand and replace it with green. Or vice-versa.

I do know this. I have found  my paintings and drawings with her tiny imprint upon them. She wants to help make art. We are inspired to discover and create beautiful things together. It's what is in our inner most beings. The cry to express ourselves in the Lord through the arts. She is always learning. As her parent, it is my job to encourage her in the areas where she excels. I am so glad she has interests which are similar to mine. She loves animals and nature, swimming and art, dance and music. She loves a good story. She doesn't even know yet that I am a writer. Which tells me how absolutely blessed I am to have a kindred spirit such as our little Princess. The Lord knew what He was doing when He decided she needed to grow up with me. Not that I will ever grow up- but I can help her find her way. I love all my children. Whether they came from my womb or I got blessed with them another way. They are my heart. They give me reason to live. I am so honored to share my life interests with these children.

I cannot wait until the day where I can do so with other young people.
Soon.
That's all I know.
Soon.

I printed off the picture to the side for her the other day to color as she watched Harry the Bunny so I could finish my school work. I didn't tell her that Harry was yellow. She figured it out on her own, because I gave her the freedom to do it for herself. That's is what I am talking about, though. Kids need to be allowed to be free to be who they are.

I am excited to teach them to worship the Lord and find/express themselves through the arts. I have been doing it for years. But I want to do it on a much bigger scale. Through outdoors and nature. Not all computers and technology. Too many screens in young people's lives. They need to unplug and rewind. Relax and revive. They need a wilderness experience and I am going to help them find it.

Jesus, Hubby, and me... Read the rest of this post

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You know the one.
It's the moment where you realize you don't have to defend yourself.
That revelation split second in time when you ask yourself the question,
"Why did I ever think I did?"

A smack your forehead kind of time in life.

The Bible speaks repeatedly about God being our judge and counselor. Now I am not talking about going out on Saturday nights and partying and then coming to church on Sunday morning hung over. I am talking about making decisions to do something that is in the best interest of an innocent even when it doesn't make sense to others. Even when it offends them.

The Bible also speaks about standing up for truth. I am not going to stay somewhere that His word is compromised, sugar coated, or twisted. I'm not even talking about a church right now. I am talking about anywhere I go.

People are going to sin. It's human nature. But to live with your head in the sand for the sake of appearing tolerant is something completely different. I am going to tell the truth. And I am not going to add sparkly wings to it.
When it comes down to it-
I don't allow magick wands in my presence.
Deception.

If I am unaware of it, I pray for God to make me aware. It takes a while sometimes, but then God will do something amazing like give me scripture about dusting my feet. I know then I had better act.

If we don't listen in those moments my darlings- we will be sorry later.

I don't like offending people. But every time I have ever tried to be subtle about something, it ends horribly. So I have to be who God made me to be.
Imperfect. Determined. Strong. Loud. Alarming. Honest.  Creative.
Weird.
Strange.
Different.
Flowery.
Poetic.

Who has God created you to be? Do you know for sure? Are you seeking His face in order to know? Whoever HE has made you to be, be that person. And nothing else. Please. It will not end well. If you are meant to be a sweet and quiet example- be that. If you are called to be the loud one who climbs on tops of buildings and yells down to the masses, then do so. If you are told to be still, then be still. But know His voice. Know it well. Don't listen to other voices. Block the noise from your ears and heart.

Sometimes if I am running around in circles- I will stop somewhere at a stop sign and suddenly someone will pull up next to me with a license plate.

Saturday it said JAE (that would be my name) 9213. Saturday was 9/13... Just saying.
What about the two? Perhaps something happened at two o'clock that day that I will never know about. But it slowed me down to take the time to listen to my Father. And I had peace about what is coming for us. In that moment I hadn't been sure I was headed in the right direction, and too many other voices were trying to speak to me (children, spouse, parents, friends). I had to know whether to head up that mountain and take the tiny place that was offered to me- or to stay here and wait for the farm to come. I know now. And now I am moving.

Moving to a tiny place now forces me to get rid of all the unimportant things in my life. To clear out the clutter. At one time nine people lived in this five bedroom home (my five kids, us, and a couple of extra teenagers). The mess was easily hidden in closets. But you see, God has been revealing things in the natural as much as in the spiritual. Although I had gotten rid of half my belongings months ago, I needed to get rid of more. Moving to my tiny place before the farm causes me not to carry all this clutter with me to a farm. My promised land. It's up that mountain. I am going there. I will sit and wait. Prepare many stories for publication, and instead of wasting time finding the perfect place to try and put those stories- The Lion's Roar will do so for me...

If the Lord tells you to do something my lovelies, no matter how badly it hurts, do it. You won't be sorry. Know it's Him before you act. And then ACT. Please.

I love you all. Have a blessed week. If you don't hear from me for a little while, it's not because I have forgotten you. It's because I am embracing a life on TOP of the mountain.

Selah.

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Most of my huge family went to the county fair last night. I just knew I had to make sure we were there together. Having fun. So off we went. Loaded three cars full and paid the per-car fee. Separated into parties. Daddy& me with the babies. The younger adults went and had some fun. And the older adults took the younger older children to ride rides.

We walked around with the kids until Little Man got sleepy so I sat down under a political tent in a chair to put him to sleep.

As I sat under that tent I heard an awful crunching sound. Like the sound of metal on metal. It was identical to that tornado sound I hear when there are life storms about to come. Say I am crazy if you will, but at least take the time to read to the bottom of this page. And then you can draw your own conclusions about what God is doing. In the mean time, I have to say what needs to be said. That's all.

I looked in the direction of the screeching sound, to see my husband point up where there were pieces falling from the double ferris wheel. It was like watching one of those super hero movies. Only there were no folks flying by with their cape waving in the wind.

The wheel was full of people, some yelling and crying to get them off. It was horrible. It took them what seemed forever to figure out what direction to move it in to get them down one car at a time. I just kept yelling GET THEM OFF THERE NOW! GET THEM OFF! And I began to pray in tongues with my hand in the air pointed toward that ferris wheel. I was frightened, but I had four little kids with me, and my brother-in-law went to go make sure the rest of our family was okay. All the while there was this dirty music playing in the background. The "funnest" ride in the place. By now some of you are thinking I am going to say I woke up. Nope. It was real.

My brother-in-law came back to inform us that none of our family was on that thing. They were in line and heard the screeching and went elsewhere. My thoughts were, why are we still here? But NONE of us felt led to leave. Twenty of us- and we felt led to stay.

Yes, the people were okay.  It gets even better than that. Not only were they up on the ride trying to fix it so they could continue to ride that ride- everybody acted as if nothing had happened. That in and of itself was odd. They just kept riding the rest of the rides. None of them felt led to be cautious. They were getting on the dangerous rides with full confidence. Everybody at the fair.

Some would say it was because they felt God's protection- but I knew how numb they all were. Including my crew. And I am about to prove how much we have all been asleep.

I decided to ride one ride. The one that was similar to the California Twister. I know I get vertigo when I go in circles. But I felt led to ride it and I prayed I didn't get sick. Guess what? I didn't get sick.

So much so that I got right back in line to ride again. I never do that. But I needed to. And my 18 year old daughter and my 14 year old niece went with me. They sat one seat in front of me. We had been dancing and goofing off to the music. It was songs that weren't dirty like the ones before. As a matter of fact the conductor of the ride had country music playing while we were waiting in line. Drawing in all kinds of crowds.

We sat down. We buckled up. He switched the station.
Almost mechanically.
He begins to yell that if we want to show we are having fun we needed to put our hands up in the air.

Side note-

Isaw this happen one time on entertainment awards. A "Christian" singer told everyone to put their hands up. They followed along like sheeple. As soon as they put their hands up in the air- he made a Satanic sign in the air that symbolizes a Satanic blessing. I only know because I have spent half my life studying these things.

This time, it was a little more blatant.

As the conductor (who wore a cross around his neck!) yelled for everyone to put their hands up and wave them in the air- the first words of that song were,

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Have you ever suddenly felt as if nobody knew you were there? Wondered if maybe you were in God's image and unseen?

God is really working in me. He must be. Over the last few months I have had people literally run me off the road, hit my dog, cut me off and then wave sorry later, let people cut in line in front of me, run me over in Walmart and even tailgate me driving down the mountain. I've had them forget me, or drop the ball when it comes to my business, etc.

The response afterward by more than one of those people has been, "Oh, I'm sorry. I literally didn't see you there."

Ugh.

The funny part is, I am not even sure anymore if it bothers me that I'm invisible. Maybe it's not such a bad thing. I don't know.

And now that I am finally okay with the solitude of living in the woods in the middle of nowhere- God is moving us. I don't know where. I don't know what lies ahead. I just know that we have to move from here and go. I hope and pray this is the last move.

I kind of remember something mentioned a time (or hundred) about a farm?

People think I am crazy. This is just how my life goes. God puts us (or rather the one who keeps dragging feet) in a position where we absolutely have to go. He almost chases us, sometimes, out of the places we are stationed. But always it seems to come against me. I'm so tired...

Change whatever in ME needs changed Lord. Make Your will for me clear so I can stay on course. I can't worry about everyone else around me. I am not responsible for their souls. Just mine.

Oh.This.Hurts.

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Right about now I am dreading yesterday's blunder. I had so much going on at one time I didn't realize how many times my cup hit that little button to refill until I'd done it
Sixteen times.
Eight cup pot. Twice.
I finally fell asleep around 5:30 a.m. after taking allergy medicine and a hot shower. I woke up at 8:30 and now I have to drink coffee to cure this never ending surge inside my head. Lord I repent in Jesus' name.
Never.Doing.That.Again.
Ever.
I feel like I've been stabbed in the eye with a coffee stirrer.
Somebody please invent a pot that sounds an alarm after three cups.
I'll pay you. Big bucks. So long as it spouts mocha once in a while.














 <--- Me @ 10 p.m.                            

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All this time God has been refining and refueling my family. Sometimes it felt more like punishment than anything. But it wasn't. It was God preparing all of us. For greater and newer things. I cannot even believe the revelations that have been coming to me. Now- it is time. Not just to be an author/illustrator, but far greater things. To me that was always the top rung on the ladder. Now it's been mid-way. I can't speak much about what is happening, but I know God's timing is impeccable. I can't wait to see the new things unfold. It's all about to get crazy and wonderful around here. I haven't felt this good about doing what I do for about four and a half years. I know one thing though, I won't ever work for someone else again. Jesus is my boss.

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Sad face.
That moment you find out somebody you truly care about went off the deep end because of a tragic circumstance. And it pretty much ruined their entire life. When you wish you had been there for them, but they are far away and you didn't even know they were struggling because they fell off the face of the earth. I need to keep better tabs on some of my "babies".

The one I speak of in particular- please keep them in prayer. Definitely needed... Read the rest of this post

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Some are going through a horrible time right now.
Some are feeling lost.
Hopeless.
Abandoned.
Worthless.
Helpless.
Alone.
Depression.

Feeling as if nobody hears them, sees them, knows they are alive.
God sees you, my darling.
He hears you.
He feels you.
Catches every tear that falls from your precious eyes.
I promise.

Focus on something for just a moment.
Something outside of your pain.
Focus on the Glory of God.
Take a deep breath.
Breathe.

If you can't muster the strength to say it aloud-
then say it inside.
You can do this.
I have faith in you.
I believe in you.

"Take me Lord.
Take my junk.
Take my mess.
I am Yours.
Help me.
Lead me beside the still waters.
Restore my soul.
My mess, is Yours.
Use it to be glorified.
Give me peace.
Give me hope.
I find my strength in You, oh Lord.
Bring me to the place of joy.
And bring me into You.
In Jesus' name."

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