what being a pastor in the city taught me

June 6, 2018 Jacqui

The word "ministry" evokes a wide range of emotions, opinions, and ideas, especially from those in the Church. What makes a ministry successful, fruitful, and sustainable? What exactly should ministry look like? In the end, who is ministering to whom? Today's post is the first ever guest post on this blog and is written by our friend and former Pastor, Charlie Collier. This is a man who handed out his personal cell number to homeless drifters and church members alike, a man who valued the teaching of women enough to share his pulpit with them, and a man who loved this city and its people in a uniquely tangible way. Their family has been a blessing to all of us during their time here, and they will all be dearly missed! Here's what he learned about ministry as he pastored our church in the city of Cleveland for over a decade…

9 things I learned this spring

May 30, 2018 Jacqui

I'm linking up with Emily P. Freeman's "What We Learned" series this month, where we pause to reflect on the past season before we move ahead into the future. Do you set aside time to examine your own life? It's not something I'm naturally good at, but these posts remind me to slow down and pay attention.

Here's what I learned this spring in no particular order:

1. Living with a diabetic is harder than I thought it would be.

Type 1 Diabetes is a disease that never sleeps, but I read the other day that there’s a 1 in 20 chance she could die in hers. I wish I hadn't seen that, but there’s no way to "unknow" it now. It’s been almost a year and a half since her diagnosis, and we’ve been functioning as her pancreas for every single one of those days. On one hand, it’s an incredible blessing to be able to do so, and on the other, it can be exhausting. The past three months it’s been particularly challenging to manage her unpredictable blood sugar levels….

stop "shoulding" all over yourself

May 24, 2018 Jacqui

Some of my “shoulds” stem from way back in elementary school when I first discovered comparison and became acquainted with the feeling of not measuring up. This is partially due to my personality and the fact I have a deep-seated belief that I’m lacking something important (Enneagram 4) and also because I’ve incorporated lies into my psyche to the point I’m convinced this is who I am, or who I am not.

Consequently, it’s taken me a dreadfully long time to accept myself for who I actually am. Maybe you can relate? Maybe you find yourself desperately wishing you could be like someone else, or that your life would look a little more like hers. Or maybe you were so sure things would turn out a certain way, and they just….haven’t.

But in order to make peace with ourselves and our lives and somehow find the beauty in all of it, we need to start with the truth. The truth is the way things are, for better or worse, not how you would like them to be, or how you think they “should” be. Rachel Hollis says it like this: "It’s impossible to go somewhere new, to become something new, without first acknowledging where you are. The self-awareness that comes from truly digging into what you’ve come to believe about who you are is invaluable…"

HELP WANTED

May 8, 2018 Jacqui

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….

Gentle Grace

April 17, 2018 Jacqui

I finished the book of John today (which is not actually today as in this very day but today as in when I started writing this post, which was probably a week ago now. Because I have a finishing problem. And a distraction problem. And a sick kid problem. But I digress….). I’d started reading it well before Easter. Not even the entire book, mind you--just the part at the end leading up to the crucifixion.

I’ve learned over the years to be gentle with myself in some areas, though, and reading Scripture is one of them. The Holy Spirit isn’t tethered to the dusty Bible on my nightstand, but rather, He’s alive in my heart and is with me always, whether or not I succeed in reading the Word daily. I’m not always capable of living life how I think it should be lived under ideal circumstances, but what I am capable of doing is living the actual life that’s right in front of me, for better or worse.

But I’ve gotten caught up in the proverbial blank page of my writing life since the beginning of the year, and I don’t like it....

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. Occasional cusser. 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. 😩👊🏻😴

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 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 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. 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

‘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* 😬

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