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Meeting God in the mundane + Finding grace in the mess

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HELP WANTED

May 8, 2018 Jacqui
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We were running late....again.

The school has a new attendance policy this year, and we’re already on the naughty list for being late one too many times. Okay, probably twenty too many times, but who’s counting. Well, the school is, obviously, but that’s not the point.

The point is, we were already behind schedule trying to get out the door this morning when a kid somehow flung a cup of soda (leftover on the table from the night before [insert snarky eye-roll emoji here]) all over the kitchen. Like, ALL OVER. Said child took time we didn’t have to “clean it up,” but after he left I stepped in a big puddle of sticky soda on the floor and looked up to find it also amply splattered on the blinds. And puddled in the crevices of the computer monitor. And peppering a once-clean, folded pile of shirts….

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In Writing Tags City Life, Cleveland, Love Your Neighbor, Cleveland Bloggers, City Stories
2 Comments

i need the city /or/ there your heart will be also

October 25, 2017 Jacqui
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The last post ended with a question: What if it wasn’t just the children on the other side of the world who were starving? What if it was MY children?

That changes everything, doesn’t it?

I love my children and every one of them holds a piece of my heart (and also, sadly, a chunk of my brain). I would do whatever it takes, moving heaven and earth in the process, to get them food to fill their hungry bellies.

Do you see the difference….and the problem?

Of course, it’s impossible to claim all the starving children in the world as your own, nor should you have to by yourself. There are no easy solutions to a problem of this magnitude, but I do know that you’d look at the problem of hunger differently if you were exposed to it regularly, if it wasn’t just an abstract concept of “children are hungry” but a tangible problem that affects living, breathing souls you can reach out and touch....

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In Write 31 Days Tags Cleveland, City Life
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the currency of souls /or/ wake up from the dream

October 22, 2017 Jacqui
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I opened my Notes today to write a post about how I'm overwhelmed and dragging with all of this writing, that all my preparations have dried up and I'm feeling the burden of deadline. But what I found instead was this freestyle poem (?) I started a while ago and never finished. So I finished it today. We'll just celebrate that small victory for now and not get too caught up in tomorrow. 

It's about the tension that exists between the girl I used to be and the woman I am now. It's about waking up to real life and not just existing in the haze, but how do you get there? How do you build bridges connecting two different realities? How do you effectively connect people to people and resources to needs? I'm still trying to figure it all out.

Also, I'm not sure what to title it. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to chat in the comments! 

 

Title (?)

I used to get angry at the ignorance

Thinking, how could it be that you cannot see 

All of the privilege right here in front of me...

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In Write 31 Days Tags Real Church, Poetry, City Life
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the only white girl in school /or/ we outsourced everything

October 17, 2017 Jacqui
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When we moved our very middle class life into a home in the city years ago, everything else stayed the same. Though our physical location had changed, the investments of our heart did not. It’s easy to drive past buildings in the neighborhood and people in a hurry to get somewhere and never walk those same sidewalks yourself. It’s easy to reside somewhere and yet live your life everywhere but the square mile around your home.

We lived that way for almost the first decade of our lives in the city: we outsourced everything.

Our delicate little snowflakes went to the best Christian preschool we could afford. With our first couple kids, our cushy budget allowed us to shop the clothing racks at the mall outside the city, and we made our weekly trek to the suburbs for bible studies or moms groups. We did attend church right down the street, but that was about it. We saw the dentist, got our hair cut, went to school, bought groceries, took swimming lessons, played at parks, and even socialized well outside the neighborhood where we dwelled....

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In Write 31 Days Tags City Life, Cleveland
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the designer home "promised land" /or/ .... {part 1}

October 13, 2017 Jacqui
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From the other side of the table, the project manager asked us, “which countertop do you like best?”

Spread out in between us were siding colors, countertop samples, shutter swatches, carpet squares, and booklets of options for everything from doorknobs to light fixtures to outlet covers. This process was overwhelming but exciting at the same time.

Indecisive, I replied, “they all kind of look the same to me.”

The countertop samples were slightly different hues of the same shade of dark. He went on to explain that some people were particular about how the earthy tones of the marbling swirled and folded, how we wouldn’t want it blotchy in one area but bare in another. I didn’t realize people thought or cared so much about those kind of things.

It was February of 2010, and this had become a sort of weekly “date night” for us, driving about twenty minutes west of the city to meet with the project manager and discuss our new build in the suburbs....

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In Write 31 Days Tags City Life, Urban Missions, Hearing God, Cleveland
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HELLO!


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I'm Jacqui, the mom behind the camera. Wife of one + momma to five. Writer + speaker. Unqualified philosopher + theologian. Accidental mentor. Chaos manager. Lover of coffee + wine, perspective, and Jesus. Truth teller. Freedom fighter. Worth affirmer. Wanna-be author + world changer. Laundry piler. Emoji enthusiast. It's nice to meet you!

I hope you'll stay awhile and take a look at life through my lens, as I seek to find joy in the mess and walk with God through the beauty of everyday life.

 

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That last-week-of-school hustle is reeeeaaal. 😩👊🏻😴
That last-week-of-school hustle is reeeeaaal. 😩👊🏻😴
Oh haaay, summer, haaay!! ✨😎 It’s almost 90 degrees with a breeze here in CLE, & we’re not minding one little bit. We just got back from a Target run, as one does on a Saturday. 🎯 I swept yesterday’s chalk dust and all the hel
Oh haaay, summer, haaay!! ✨😎 It’s almost 90 degrees with a breeze here in CLE, & we’re not minding one little bit. We just got back from a Target run, as one does on a Saturday. 🎯 I swept yesterday’s chalk dust and all the helicopters off the porch (as far as propagating strategies go, this is a very good one. Those suckers are EVERYWHERE!), and now I’m watching my little corner of the world go by from my second-hand rocking chair on the porch, iced coffee in hand. And it’s so, so good to be right here. In this moment, in this place: the wind tugging at my hair, the kids arguing about something in the backyard, the wind chimes next door, the dogs sunning themselves at my feet. These are the days. This is the abundant life. And I wouldn’t trade it for the whole wide world. My corner is enough.
I used to think the old woman who lived in a shoe was nuts. I mean, why in the world would you choose live in a shoe? With all those kids?? 😱 And withholding the bread? Straight up neglect. Some versions say she kissed them fondly, but we all know t
I used to think the old woman who lived in a shoe was nuts. I mean, why in the world would you choose live in a shoe? With all those kids?? 😱 And withholding the bread? Straight up neglect. Some versions say she kissed them fondly, but we all know that mean broad spanked the daylights out of them before sending them straight to bed. Then I became a parent. Life has a way of waking you up to realities that are literally impossible to understand until you’re completely immersed in the incessant demands of a sacrificial season, or in some cases, a sacrificial existence. And you can fathom now how life can wear a person down to a shell of who they were, how one unfortunate circumstance can tragically alter a trajectory. And you finally realize that no one chooses to live in a shoe. A shoe is where you live when you have no choices, when you’re out of options, when it’s either a shoe or the streets. She had so many children she didn’t know what to do—so many mouths to feed every day. If broth and bread is all she could afford, there might not have been enough to go around. She didn’t ration out of neglect but rather out of necessity. And she whipped them all soundly before she put them to bed because she didn’t have anything left. Because she’s an overwhelmed, exhausted single mom without a shred of a support system. She never gets a break. Carrying the weight of their survival solely on her weary shoulders, she beats them now so the police won’t later. She whoops them because she cares, and that’s the only way she ever learned how to show it. . ...and what you can see now is, she loves them.
Anyone else feel the pull to show up here every so often to say, “Hey! I’m still busy doing things! My life is still interesting! And it matters! And here’s why…” When I feel compelled or obligated to do something, for
Anyone else feel the pull to show up here every so often to say, “Hey! I’m still busy doing things! My life is still interesting! And it matters! And here’s why…” When I feel compelled or obligated to do something, for whatever reason, one of the best things I can do for myself, at least for a little while, is….don’t. Don’t log on. Don’t post for the heck of posting. Don’t force something that doesn’t want to come. And I let the silence begin to speak for itself. God speaks in a whisper, you know, but how often are we quiet enough to hear it? And how exactly did we arrive at the place where our worth was determined by the number of hearts tapped out on 2x2 squares? It sounds quite ridiculous when it’s all spelled out like that, doesn’t it?
This is how we showed up at church tonight—legit looking like maybe we just crawled out of a garbage dump. Or at least a construction zone. 🚧 It’s actually worse than it looks and literally the best I’ve got this week. Bless it. Al
This is how we showed up at church tonight—legit looking like maybe we just crawled out of a garbage dump. Or at least a construction zone. 🚧 It’s actually worse than it looks and literally the best I’ve got this week. Bless it. Also, the nursery worker made them wash hands before snack, so we’re good. What matters is that we showed up. On time, in fact, which is no small miracle in and of itself. . ✨All that is required of us is that we arrive as our truest selves. And today? We’re filthy. So, here’s a gentle reminder to you, fellow traveler: come dirty, come late, come ill-prepared or even irate. Come with a smile on your face, or come because you need some grace. Come stressed, come sweaty, come imperfect, even petty. Just come, in spite of your mess, and trust that God will take care of the rest. He always does. See for yourself. ➡️
These jokers are my favorite. 💖 #happymothersday
These jokers are my favorite. 💖 #happymothersday
‘Tis the season. 💜🌸 The only problem is choosing just one! 🤩 So I didn’t. 😬

Did you know that lilacs only bloom for 1-2 weeks a year? Kinda makes you wonder about humanity’s over-emphasis on “blooming”—always
‘Tis the season. 💜🌸 The only problem is choosing just one! 🤩 So I didn’t. 😬 Did you know that lilacs only bloom for 1-2 weeks a year? Kinda makes you wonder about humanity’s over-emphasis on “blooming”—always producing, striving, hustling, creating output. Even if we’re blooming where we’re planted, as the saying goes, it’s brief. Stunning, yes. Breathtaking, yes. Colorful, vibrant, full of life, yes please. But also short-lived. Temporary. Fleeting. Seasons are not only temporary but necessary. Don’t focus so much on the fruit that you miss the seasons of watching and waiting, of hunkering down when the landscape is barren and learning to weather the storms. These create the fertile soil in which flowers grow. 💜
*new headshot* 😬
*new headshot* 😬
Today is Good Friday, and it arrived exactly how I always picture it—the sky weeping, the earth soaked with tears. This is the inevitable darkness that must come before the morning, the necessary death which precedes resurrection. This heartbre
Today is Good Friday, and it arrived exactly how I always picture it—the sky weeping, the earth soaked with tears. This is the inevitable darkness that must come before the morning, the necessary death which precedes resurrection. This heartbreaking pattern of life is something my human heart always struggles to embrace as “the way.” Surely, there has to be another (less painful) avenue toward truth and life? . Selfishly, I want what we all think we want at the end of the day: a life of comfort and ease. We quickly realize, however, that comfort is fleeting and ease is overrated. With each excruciating step up the hill of Calvary, Jesus reminds us again: every good and perfect gift arrives on the other side of death. It is finished, forever and ever. Amen.
Sell your cleverness and buy bewilderment.
—Rumi
Sell your cleverness and buy bewilderment. —Rumi
 

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