Edith.

[Keep It Real - An Ode To My Grandma]

My Grandma is dead. But I have enough memories of her to last a lifetime. The biggest smile creeps over my heart when I think of her. When I remember who she was and what she fought for. I laugh when I remember her. Not because she had a great sense of humor

or often told funny jokes. I laugh because I remember how she would hide huge piles of $$$ in the granola boxes in her cupboard. I laugh because I remember how much she loved dairy queen. I laugh because I remember how she went on a different 

diet every mouth. I laugh because I remember Edith. Edith was my 

grandma's neighbor. And her very biggest enemy. Edith was the topic that kept her occupied all day. Edith was trouble. Let me tell you about Edith. 

[pre]P.S. - It's not actually confirmed that my Grandma's viewpoint of Edith and the havoc she caused is true. It's probably not, due to my Grandma's paranoia. But I am going to write as if it is because the passion in her voice when she would tell us about Edith was so strong, you would think she found her evidence right from the Bible. Writing the stories like this, like I really believed her, will be a little way that I can honor someone who loved me so well. 

My Grandma's flowers died because Edith poured chemicals all over them. But my Grandma caught on to this trick real quick. She would wait in the bushes at 3am with pots & pans, ready to bang them & surprise Edith when she would come over with the evil potion. 

Edith turned the entire neighborhood against my Grandma. Even the postman, Edith got to him. It got to the point that Edith had told him so much slander about my Grandma, that she couldn't trust him with her mail anymore. Grandma had to walk to the post office with her mail in the dark to do her mailing. If she didn't do this people would follow her trail, steal her bills, or even put rat poison in her pills. Oh the nerve of Edith...

Do you want to know what else Edith did? She would park people in. Visitors would come to my grandma's house. And they would find themselves blocked with Edith's car in front of the driveway. Oh Edith. You would. 

One of the most audacious tricks that Edith pulled was turn the entire church against my Grandma. Especially the choir, her lies got to them. One Sunday, instead of singing the doxology the choir sang, "Janet is loser..Janet is a loser" How rude of Edith to pull this trick the very same week that my Grandma's doctor told her that she needed to turn up her hearing aides. 

One of my very last memories of the trouble that Edith caused happened around Christmas time. Edith would make a homemade fruitcake every year for each house on the street. My grandma's house was not excluded from the list. But her fruitcake was not made with love like all the other neighbors got. It was made with malice, and my Grandma caught on to this real fast. She was sure that fruitcake had some illegal substance in it, and was not going to touch it. So that year when Edith showed up at the door with the cake and a fake smile, my grandma said, "Edith...go drop dead" and she handed that fruitcake right back to her. 

There are thousands of tales that I could tell about Edith. I grew up with Edith and the trouble that she would cause. Edith made the public bus late. Edith stole the coupons from the paper in the driveway. Everything bad that happened in my Grandma's life or in the lives of the ones my Grandma loved was always Edith's fault. 

I love remembering Edith, because I love remembering my Grandma.

I laugh, close my eyes, and somehow I can still hear her yell, "Kids, get in the house, Edith is coming down the street" 

My story of finding

My late Grandma would always talk about her sister Dot. I wish I could remember what she would say.    Only faint memories of her telling tales about Dot's white furniture and her escape to California. I can't remember much else. Only this: Every single week, my grandma would sit by her phone, and wait for Dot to call. And they would talk for hours.

It had been nearly 10 long years since they had seen each other face to face. Aunt Dot & Uncle Mac were finally coming to Pennsylvania to visit. To see her sister and all of us. But then my grandma tragically died. Dot & Mac were on a cruise ship and couldn't come home. Couldn't make the funeral. We never ended up seeing them.

But family is family, and somehow we all stayed in touch without my Grandma & Dot's phone calls.  They would get packets of pictures of family events. And we would hear stories about how badly they wanted us to visit. Finally this past summer, my other aunt & uncle and my little brother went to San Diego to visit them.

The calendar turned to January and it was my turn. 

And so I met them. In California, the land they claimed as their eden. They escaped to it over 40 years ago. Escaped Pennsylvania's family pain and chilly climate. Escaped more then we will ever know.

The time I spent with them was simply bittersweet. I met them, probably for the first and the last time. But it will be a forever time in my heart.

You see, it may be the last time because - 

 He has a rapid growing cancer and she has severe scoliosis. 

They are dying, but they live. 

Everything they do is an echo to the years of history and timeless love they share.  My uncle Mac is 90, and he drives like he is 90. On the wrong side of the road. Missing turns that are right in front of him. The kind of driving that keeps it's passengers praying the entire time. But Aunt Dot, the entire time will just be exclaiming what a great driver he is. She will say, " Oh Mac, you are such a great driver, I can't believe how well you know where you are going. I am so proud"  She is a Pennsylvania girl who fell in love with a southern boy from Virginia. And in their old age, she still calls him,  "her rebel" 

And my Uncle Mac, he is old, it's hard for him to walk. But he still always opens the doors for his lady. If her food from the restaurant comes out wrong, it ruffles his feather. He hates for anything not to be perfect for his lady. He always wants her smiling, and will do anything to make sure she still is. 

 They make fun of each other's old age. Laughing all the way. He makes fun of her old lady scarf and she makes fun of his old man hat. They still laugh. One of my favorite parts about them is the way that whenever the smallest good things occurs, they say "Look, did you see that...The Lord was so good to us" Over and over.

And my Grandma. I saw Dot and I saw Janet (my grandma).  It wasn't just in the way she looked or the sound of her voice. But in the little things that mean the most. The kind of things that marked the uniqueness of a person that you loved with all your heart. It was the way Aunt Dot pulled the Weather's Original candy out of her purse. The way that she talked about the discount she got on her designer coat. The way she would head right to the gift shop when we get to an attraction, and try to buy me every knick knack in the place. 

I had this vision of when I would meet them, that we would talk about my grandma. Share the memories of her that we love the most. But one sentence about my grandma was all our visit could handle. One sentence where I found out what was said on all those late night phone calls my grandma would wait up for.  My aunt said to me, "your Grandmother loved you to pieces. She was so proud of you, her grandchildren were all she ever talked about" I heard the words, and my sunglasses filled with tears. My throat chocked with grief. I couldn't respond. Only stare at the pounding waves of La Jolla and feel an empty hole in my heart. 

Dot & Mac are dying, but the live. They are old. Most their age and with their medical conditions live in nursing home. But not them. They still have a house. A little yard. A bitty dog. They prune their own orange tree. And tell hilarious stories of the coyote's that roam their street. Their friends sit in wheelchairs, but they drive their fancy car all over town - wining and dining at San Diego's best. Their friends venture to play more bingo games, but they venture the world. Not afraid to take frequent holidays. In a few months, they are going on a long holiday aboard an Alaskan cruise. They booked the veranda room. They tell me, "whenever you travel, book the veranda..you will get special perks...it will  be worth it"

My Grandma & her sister hadn't seen each other in years. But in January, I got to stand on the brinks of eternity and be there for them both.  I wish my Grandma could have been there. I know what she would have said. It would have ended with an "I told you so"

My Grandma is gone. But another part of her, me and the ones in life I love the most was on the other side of the country. Aunt Dot and Uncle Mac ran away to California so they could finally breathe. And breathe they did and they never stopped. Somehow by a magical wind, paths crossed and hearts met. I understood a little bit more about why I am me. I have a little extra hope for a magical adventurous life that is brimming with love and adventure, even into my old age. Because you see this January I found out, it's not simply a dream in my heart, it's in my genes too.

The God that doesn't abandon.

My God does miracles. Every single day, all over the world.  Amazing. Beautiful. Miracles.

With my own eyes I have seen blind eyes see light for the very first time. With my own hands, I have felt tumors disappear. With my own ears I have heard the deaf speak for the very first time. In my own joints, I have felt pain evaporate. My God does miracles. They get me every time. But this year, on January 1st, I saw Him do a miracle that is going to ring in my heart forever.

This is the kind of miracle that you can only see with the eyes of your heart.

For many years, a beautiful lady that I work for taught me that spending your day in the garbage dumps of the earth is heaven's idea. That they are the happiest places to go because it is in these places that Christ comes and lifts the poor from the dirt and the needy from the trash.

So, we are in Central America....and we want to go to a garbage dump. Because that's what we have been taught to do, and there is nothing else we would rather do.

So we try to go. We get lost. Driving around the city for hours. Finally, the dump is found. In one of of the most notoriously dangerous sections of the city. It's a place that is so dangerous, that there is only one road to go in or out.

We find the garbage dump. It's the end of the work day, so not many people are at the dump. We go to the village connected to the dump. Along the way we visit a young mother who tells us there is a pastor in this village who works very hard, giving his life and heart to the Gospel- but his family is very poor and has nothing. 

We buy food in the little shop for people and spend time delivering it. And at just the right moment, we walk back through and run into the Pastor's wife. We sit with her in her little house, sing her happy songs and hug her. Her husband stops in, on the way to church. And many beautiful things happen, but we end up filling their pockets with heaps & heaps of cash. More in that moment then they probably have ever seen in months.

And the Pastor's wife, with tears in her eyes told us that two hours ago she was standing in front of her mirror getting ready for the evening church service. And in the middle of her poverty & hopeless situation she said, "God, you have abandoned me"

But God

My God

Her God

He didn't abandon her. Before she even spoke those words, love was on the way. A small group of Americans were driving around the town, looking for a place to deposit the hope of Christ that rescued them & the pockets full of cash that God had planned just for her.

They didn't know where they were going. Or really what they were to do once they got there. All they knew is that love shines brightest in the darkest places on earth.

And it does. It showed a sweet lady that the God she pledged her life to serve, also pledged His to her. He promised that He would always take care of her. And He did, and always will. Before she spoke her words of despair, He had already set his wild love plan of care into motion. 

Heaven had her set up for that ambush. We would of never thought to go to a garbage dump if God didn't give Winnie the desire to go to them over 30 years ago. We would have never gone to that dump if she didn't teach us that no matter what, you find them, you search them out and you go. It was no mistake that we got lost, that our schedule ran late so that instead of spending our time in the actual dump- we spent it in the village next to it. It's no mistake that we chose the village entrance we did, and at the perfectly timed moment, we walked by the lady who told us we needed to visit the pastor's family.

  A beautiful lady, who God paid everything to call His own, thought that He had left her. 

Make no mistake, God doesn't abandon.

Paper sessions .... Part 1

Same as I wrote with the typewriter, I am just transcribing my journal. Because just like the click of the typewriter keys...the sound of pencil hitting the paper makes the emotions of the heart flow....and it's so much easier to write there...then on here...

There no time to write blog post, but all the time in the world...to spill your emotions on real living paper...so here you go..I am transcribing my sheets of paper here...because it's so easy...

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(In my journal) 

Charles De Gauelle Airport---August 30th, 2012...

I fell in love with the idea of could be life that I never dreamed could be possible- unitl I remembered where I am now. Oh how the life I have now seemed like a far off impossible dream in the heart of a little girl who had no idea how amazing she would turn out to be. 

So it gives me hope.....

That one day I will walk the streets of Paris, not as a visitor but as a girl who calls them home. Not home because she wants it to be in her heart, but home because there is a flat with her name on it. A kindergarden with her son in it. A train that brings love of her life home to her every night. And a space that she calls her own---filled with all the little things that she loves so dearly, because it reminds her of the people that she loves the most. 

All made possible by the One who loved her enough to say --- "Dream on little girl---I am your Own....one day home will be wherever you want it...."

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Dream on, dear friends. Savor the life you have now, remember how you didn't have it once. And let the furfilled dreams of yesterday...give you peace that the surreal ones of tomorrow...are just a few heartbeats away. 

Typewriter sessions--part 1

I don't have time to write on my computer, but when I sit at my typewriter there seems to be all the time in the world. This summer I wrote many "notes" on my typewriter, so I may just start typing them up electronically to keep the pages of this blog brimming...

Here is my first transcription of my typewriter sessions---the first thing I wrote on my dear little typewriter.... a letter about her---it's silly, you may not enjoy it...but that's okay [because I do]

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{Sometime in June]

Today, I bought a typewriter. When I was at the store, the salesman said, "why would you want to buy that?" and I said, for the click that she will make. I am buying her for the sound she will release everytime that my hands hit her keys. 

I bought her because old dreams never die. I bought her because she is a connection into my past [dreams], but the push I need to leap into my future. I bought her so that I could wake up at 3am and write, just plain write. That I wouldn't be distracted by my emails, facebook or tweeter that might awaken at 3am with me..but it would just be the moonlight, my typewriter and me. 

She will write the gospel. I think with every word I write, every letter I push, that click she makes is her way of saying amen. click..click...yes & amen...click...click...yes & amen. Jesus is all over her. Every time I press her keys, I get a little more happier. I laugh just a little bit more. She has this magical way of bringing sweet things out of my heart, that I seemed to forget were there. She is an instrument into my destiny, a piece of my heart that will always be singing. I love you little typewriter, you make the smile on this face  little bit brighter....

Let's scream out the Gospel together.....

Jenny 

xoxoxoxoxo

The Story Of 4 Little Girls

Dear Reader, 

You are very lucky. You get to read a story tonight about the four most beautiful little girls on the earth. Honestly, I am not thrilled to write it so openly, it's more personal than I would like to share. But I trust the prompting of my Jesus, the little nudges that He whispered tonight, that says, "It's time to tell " 

Find your treasure in it, I already have mine. 

So here you go you, I am incredibly honored to tell you the story of the little girls that I was given the amazing privilege to love & {kinda} raise and the story of the God who always remained faithful to them.

[Early 2010]

Standing outside the abortion clinic, in the pouring rain. Along with a friend, I was kinda just there for the ride. I didn't have a plan or know what to do. Just as we were leaving, we saw a lady standing in the rain outside the clinic,waiting for a taxi. Long story, short- she is in my car...we drive to the pregnancy center..a few hours later..a young momma pregnant with her fourth little girl has hope for her future. She got up that morning with the painful reality that she would have to kiss her baby away at the abortion scheduled that morning, but because of some strange occurrence at the appointment & she had to reschedule it for another time & Jesus ambushed her on the way out. 

We soon meet her three little girls (ages 6, 2, & 11 months). The sweetest little creatures that you could ever imagine. It was love at first sight. I spent endless time with them for months. Taking them dinner, taking the girls to the park, going shopping, taking them to church every Sunday. Spoiling them! Buying them present...oh the fun! Everywhere we went...they went! You could just hug them all day long...every time that I would see them, they would rush me, & squeeze me to pieces...and make me promise to never let go. I would take them out & about, and everyone would say, "what beautiful children you have!" and I would simply say, "thank you!" . 

It was full of adventure too. All sorts of adventure. Sleep over's at my house. Nearly getting kidnapped when visiting them in their dangerous urban neighborhood. Some drugs. Some tantrums. And oh so much more! 

And then that beautiful little fourth baby girl arrived. 3 months early. So their momma had to be rushed into the hospital, and the girls moved in with us for awhile. Beautiful M was born, she was gorgeous! We loved her to pieces at first sight. [Though we couldn't figure out why she was born white? And not perfect chocolate like her sisters? Haha, in a weeks time she soon turned the perfect dark heaven skin that she was suppose to!! It was just our blissful ignorance of how things like that work out]

When momma got better, and could take care of everyone at home, we took the other three back to stay with them. 

Then it started to get a little dicey. 

There was a big bad wolf involved and he put those four little innocent lambkins through hell. And their momma too. I refuse to write the details of what he did to them. I refuse to remember. You can imagine though, what they might be. 

One day in the fall, momma ran away {maybe from the big bad wolf? Maybe from something else? we still aren't sure]. And she left all the kids with me. All four. Even three month old baby M. My family was left to care of four little girls. 

So we did. There were no other options. They moved in again. They brought joy & laughter to our house. but with a missing momma, abuse there had to be pain & heartache too.

There were endless tears for all of us in this season of life. Tears...Tears...heartache...heartache...

But Jesus came to them. And He held them & loved them through our arms. We would tell them the beautiful stories of how He gave everything so that they could be apart of His family. And they would pray to Him, and tell Him how much they loved Him. D (age 3 at that time)..."Jenny be sure to write down in your journal...D loves Jesus...D loves Jesus...be sure that you write that down, I want everyone to know"  We still laughed in those hard weeks, we all fell in love with Jesus a little more...especially those four sweet little girls! I taught them how to ties their shoes, they taught me how to dream ("when I grow up, I am going to be President!") 

One of things that I learned in those "last" weeks were that you really can't do anything without the body of Christ. I am so thankful for my dear sweet friends, like Jason & Katie & Gary & Nicole...who opened their hearts & home...to all of us...when the threats came..and it wasn't safe for us to stay at my house anymore..we moved to theirs..thank you! thank you! 

I wanted to save them. To spare them from ever going through pain again, they went through enough. We assured the little girls that they would be safe now, they wouldn't be hurt or beat anymore...that those days were over. 

But we couldn't save them. They had to go back. My last memory of them is them is them screaming, and bawling at the top of their lungs as they drove away in the sw car. They were shaking in fear to have to go back to the very man (who the government thought wouldn't be there anymore, but we knew would be) that hurt them so badly. They were going back right to the terrible place that I had promised them a thousand times they would never have to go back too (because I thought that was true). It was miserable. 

Floods of tears for days. Heartbroken that we couldn't rescue them. Feeling like we failed them. 

The only thing we could do was cling to the word that God had given us that He loved & cared for the girls more than we ever could. That He held in His heart, the sweet little prayers of adoration to Him that they would whisper as we tucked them in each night. 

TIme elapsed since that tragic night when they left. People soon stopped asking where my "girls" were. I got busy. Days would pass were I wouldn't think of them, week even. Occasionally, I would see something that would remind me of everything, and my heart would be swept with emotions & thoughts if they were all still safe. 

But my Jesus!!!! Our compassionate Christ never forgot them. 

Inching up on the 2 year after mark of all of this....I found a current picture of them on the internet. This little picture meant the world to me. And it showed that the big bad wolf wasn't in their life anymore. That they were safe, happy, whole & beautiful! Jesus had loved, cherished, and held them all this time. Just like He promised me He would. 

I have never felt released to go find them again. I love them from afar, because I know He loves them so closely.  

So Jesus, as you are kissing them to sleep tonight- Can you please whisper them this from me? 

Dear D, D, M & M, 

Your are so loved. So precious. So dear. So celebrated! I hope that you are still dreaming big dreams for your lives, and know that YOUR Jesus paid in blood for every desire in your heart. 

Thank you my girls for teaching me about Jesus. Thank you for helping me grow up so fast. Thank you for the endless piles of smiles you brought me. I will never forget you :) 

I miss you lots,

Your Jenny. 

So my sweet four little girls--here's to you! All the bliss in the universe to you! All your dreams coming true! 

And sweet readers, lets raise our glasses tonight to the ones that we thought were in hopeless situations, but that He always remained faithful too! 

Just like He has always been to me. 

And to you! 

My favorite little girl in Bluefields, Nicaragua- Continued!

[2012]We just went to our favorite garbage dump in Bluefields....

and I found her.

I sat in the trash, she sat in my lap and it was glorious!

.