Blessed Assurance ~ Wait For You {Part 2}

This is part 2 in a series titled, Wait For You, based off of my album of the same name released in 2005. This collection of original songs was written over a period of 10 years and were glimpses of my story up until that time. To read Part 1, click here.

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in his word I hope;
my soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen for the morning,
more than watchmen for the morning.

Psalm 130:5-6

I was born to first generation Canadians whose parents had immigrated from war-torn Europe. My grandparents were faithful Christians who had to face huge obstacles as young children with their parents fleeing their homeland. Although one of my grandparents was born in Canada, the other three had become refugees in a new land, far from their own relatives, churches, friends and culture. In this struggle, God blessed them. He provided through their struggles to settle in the new land, make a new life and a new way of living. They farmed, they attended school, and God continued to provide for them. My grandparents grew up, met, married and had children. My parents grew up, met, married, and had children. It was there on the flat plains of a coastal valley that I was born.

I was blessed with an amazing family, a wonderful childhood that I would relive any day, and God gave me a strong faith in Him at an early age. At the age of seven, I believed in Christ as my Savior and by His grace, He gave me a desire and yearning to live for Him alone. I went on from there to share the gospel with school friends, and the more I knew Christ, the more I wanted others to know Him too.

My goal is God Himself, not joy nor peace;. Nor even blessing, but Himself, my God.
-Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest

We took our first missions trip to Mexico as a family with our church in my early teenage years. This and other experiences like it, drew me deeper into love of Christ, love for His Church and love for cross-cultural mission work.  I was thankful for these years lived on the mountaintop of peace and growth. These years were necessary as a firm foundation for the testing and trials that God would later bring into my life to refine me, to break me, and to set me on a course of complete dependence on Christ.

This is what the past is for! Every experience God gives us, every person He puts in our lives is the perfect preparation for the future that only He can see.
-Corrie Ten Boom, The Hiding Place

This foundation was the groundwork God did to prepare the soil of my heart for the roots to grow deep, to be fully anchored to Christ so that my soul would yearn only for the life-giving presence of Himself, my God. It was also the foundation that God would use to bring sanctification, a breaking away from sin, self, and pride. God would teach me what it was to die daily so that He might live His life through me.

“Separation from all known sin is the starting point for sanctification, not the goal… Holiness means something more than the sweeping away of the old leaves of sin: it means the life of Jesus developed in us.” -Lilias Trotter, Parables of the Cross.

I needed those years of growing in grace and knowledge of my Savior, for the life of Jesus to be developed in me. I needed those years that I fell asleep each night, picturing the arms of Jesus hugging me, fully confident that I was saved without a doubt in my mind.

How hopeless the naked wood of a fruit tree would look to us in February if we had never seen the marvel of springtime!
-Lilias Trotter, Parables of the Cross.

I am constantly thankful for that chapter of my life, that springtime of childhood, the gift of faith given by God, and the strengthening of the Holy Spirit as a child. The Lord Jesus was my reality, His shepherding was my constant awareness, and His love for me was my blessed assurance. It was a gift and preparation for the next season of life when my Savior would lead me down from the mountain into the valley and out into a dry and thirsty land.

Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine
Oh what a foretaste of glory divine
Heir of salvation, purchase of God
Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood

Look for Part 3 of this series coming soon…

The songs Steadfast Constant and King of Glory are the first two songs on my album and describe this first chapter of my life in its recognition of God’s steadfast love for me and my worship of Him. To listen to the songs or purchase the album, please visit my bandcamp page jenniferharris.bandcamp.com.

Filled With Hope - A Reflection on TGCW 2016

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead… 1 Peter 1:3

Last weekend, I was given the opportunity to go to The Gospel Coalition Women’s Conference in Indianapolis. Built around the book of 1 Peter, the theme “Resurrection Life in a World of Suffering” focused on how we as Christians respond to suffering in our own lives and in the world, specifically as it relates to the Body of Christ around the world. When I saw that several ladies from my church would be attending, I thought how awesome it would be to go along. But, I thought it was not possible in this season of seminary life, with limited finances and time. It was my husband who brought it up to me one day, saying that he wanted me to go. Having wanted to go to one of these conferences for the past four years, I couldn’t believe it was actually within my reach.

So many times, my husband has encouraged me to just trust God and ask for His provision. God also put it on the heart of one generous woman, whom I had not even met, to pay for my lodging and transportation. God was putting this together, it was unmistakable. A week before I was to go, I sprained my foot and even considered not going. But thankfully, God and my husband really wanted me to go! A wheelchair was provided and eight loving, older women gave of their time to wheel me around the convention center!

There are many types of suffering in this world. The seasons of suffering that I have experienced in my life have been mostly that of anxiety. Unless you have experienced this category of suffering, it is hard to understand, and it is hard to know how to comfort. And yet suffering in any form can propel Christians into the loving and faithful arms of God and cause us to depend more heavily on Christ, on the Father, and on the Holy Spirit. As I’ve sought the Lord for comfort throughout those difficult seasons, I have found that others whom I have admired and looked to for teaching and wisdom have also suffered deeply with depression and anxiety. From theologians to missionaries to missional mothers. When I read of their stories of faith and struggle, I am comforted and encouraged to persevere.

These themes and thoughts were fed by the expository teaching of 1 Peter to this crowd of 7,000 women who had gathered to be filled with hope! And we were! Fed by the faithful teaching from Scripture, verse by verse, a whole conference based on the Word of God, passed down through the ages, and now here for us to feast on Hope!

That is what we need in this age of unparalleled suffering amongst the Body of Christ, sufferings of all kinds, as we live in a world filled with despair. The daughters of God need the resurrection life of Christ living and flowing through us, so that we will be filled with hope, overflowing with it, and daily living that out in our homes, our families, our neighborhoods, wherever the Lord has sovereignly placed us.

At times, the suffering in our own lives and the suffering in the world can threaten to undo us and sweep over us like a wave of despair. Yet, Jesus lovingly reaches down to us with a clear call to resist the Enemy of our souls and his roaring, and remember that Jesus has conquered sin and death. For all who repent and believe in Him, to those He has given the right to become children of God, children of Hope! IC XC NIKA, Jesus Christ conquers!

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly lean on Jesus name

On Christ the solid rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
All other ground is sinking sand

~Words by Edward Mote

The Hospitality of Frog & Toad

Long car rides and washing dishes in the kitchen sink have something very important in common. Both have the ability to let my mind retreat into itself and let random thoughts come to the forefront, much like the way tea leaves expand in the boiling water. This morning, at the kitchen sink, with my hands scrubbing bread pans and pot lids in the warm soapy water, one of those unexpected thoughts suddenly came to the forefront of my mind so unexpectedly that I wanted to drop my dishes right then and there and start writing. However, I responsibly finished my kitchen work, cleaned up from the lunch hour, welcomed some new seminary students into our home for a short visit and put my littlest down for a nap while my husband roasted some fresh coffee beans.

With a cup of English breakfast tea in hand and a book beside me for inspiration (God in the Sink by Margie Haack), I recall that somehow between the soap suds and relaxation of washing dishes from the day before, the calm in my house while children were playing, I realized something very wonderful. It involved hospitality and a children’s book series, Frog and Toad.

My thoughts often revolve around children’s books in this season of life. I wonder about that Winnie the Pooh who so looks at everything in life with such simplicity and ease. I often think about Squirrel Nutkin and his crazy antics and how much he has made my children laugh until it hurts. Our kids go on adventures into Narnia behind our home and I brace myself while reading the Chronicles for the moment when my kids realize that whatever magic is happening in the story in that moment surely means that Aslan is around, He’s coming or is already somehow mysteriously there though they hadn’t realized it for a few paragraphs. And I can’t wait for one o’clock to roll around so we can snuggle up on the couch to continue reading about a little baby named Pollywog and his curious disappearance in the playhouse floor. Unlike Eustace, and most like the Pevensies, we Harris’ want to make sure we read all the right books! Perhaps if we do, we might get to travel to enchanted lands of our own or walk into the coat closet and see if it leads to another world… my oldest two did nervously try that once, or twice, a few years ago!

Stories about little critters that keep house and home in burrows, hollows, or tree stumps have fascinated me since I was a child. So how did I make that connection between hospitality and Frog and Toad? I had never explicitly realized it before, but somehow subconsciously I had always known it. Frog and Toad are two friends that share life together in a caring and winsome way. Perhaps its the illustrations of a crackling fire in the fireplace, a toad sitting on a wing-backed chair, a cup of tea shared. Perhaps its the letter sent from Frog who knew how desperately his friend wanted a letter to come in the mail. Perhaps its the way these two friends always know the other will always be there for them or the way they really do care what the other friend is talking about even if it doesn’t totally make sense. Perhaps its the hospitality experienced in the willingness to sit with a friend who lost his to-do list. I’m sure one day I will be old and grey and need someone to remind me of the things I needed to do that day.

Sharing the simple ordinary events of their days. Isn’t this what hospitality is? Entering in to someone else’s life because you simply want to! Even when you don’t want to, but still do, this is hospitality.

My home was not cleaned up when these new students arrived on our doorstep today. There were parenting moments, interspersed with conversation, a sink full to the brim of dirty dishes, a sewing machine, a dirty floor, and messy hair tossed into a bun. But this is my ordinary and we welcomed them in to our ordinary, we made time to talk, and we gave them some fresh roasted coffee beans. Then we made sure we remembered each other’s names. It reminded me of Frog and Toad.

Presentating an Inventor and a Poet

Yesterday was a day that was captured in pictures and videos on my phone and memories in my heart. I had the privilege of attending my son’s Kindergarten Chapel to watch him presentate (a word my children made up and which has solidified in their vocabulary instead of present) a short speech on his favorite verse, John 8:12, and how he would like to serve God in the future as an inventor! All the kids were dressed in costumes to represent their future jobs. My son won the cuteness factor with his suit jacket, bow tie and Daddy’s old black-rimmed glasses. I cherished those moments when his eyes searched for mine and we smiled. I cheered him on from the front row, clapping for my son, rejoicing in his hard work and learning. After the class sang several songs, my heart was about ready to burst with joy. I filled my camera with a sufficient amount of memorable video clips and pictures to send to the grandparents a thousand miles away.

I also had the privilege of attending my daughter’s poetry reading event later that afternoon, an event put on by her class. These students worked so hard to memorize long passages of poetry and then present it to parents in a small and encouraging environment. I was so proud of all the children for their hard work, their presentation skills, their humor, perseverance in reading, memorization, and writing their own compositions. Each child learning and achieving at their own pace. I was incredibly proud of my daughter and the hard work she put into this event. This was bravery unleashed.

It was not only a year of transition to live in a new state across the country, a new church, a new neighborhood. But it was also a year of transition with their education as we changed course from homeschooling to a private school during this season of life. My kids’ courage constantly astounds me, their perseverance inspires me, and their accomplishments are the sweet fruit of never giving up. They have passed the finish line and are wearing the badges of courage and hard work that they have earned. This Mama’s heart is bursting with joy!

artwork by my daughter

I was also introduced to a series of poetry books featuring duets, where one child reads one sentence and another child reads another sentence, back and forth, in turn, in a dramatic and entertaining conversation. It is called You Read to Me, I’ll Read to You written by Mary Ann Hoberman. This would be a very fun afternoon quiet reading series to read with one’s children this summer!

After the poetry reading event, I was so impressed and inspired by these young poets that I decided I need to write more poetry! In celebration of the end of our adventurous and exciting school year, I present three original Haikus based on the goings-on at our home, Woodland Hollow, these late spring days.

Morning Thunder
Thunder and lightning
Morning storm and rain pour down
Drenching our garden

Selfish Squirrel
Birdfeeder and seeds
Little squirrel on the pole
Save some for the birds

Birdwatching
Goldfinch, cardinal
Bluejay, robin, hummingbird,
Four children watching

Upon Arriving at the House Between

I wandered into the community center with two little ones toddling behind me. Paid for my large drip coffee and proceeded to the cream and sugar as my boys chased around the cafe, faces pressed up against the drink refrigerator and pointing at the pretty stones in the faux fireplace that separates the cafe from the study center. I remembered seeing a magazine that piqued my interest on the display table near the front doors. But it wasn’t that publication that eventually won me over. It was another. Words and images intrigue me, especially thoughtful and unique ones that somehow lure me in with a knowledge that there is something deeper within the pages to be revealed.

The cover of a short newsletter read, “Letters from The House Between, Formerly Notes from Toad Hall”, written by Margie Haack. All of these words captured my attention in different ways and sent a whirlwind of lovely images through my mind as I wondered what this publication had to say. The image on front was of a bird bath covered in snow. The title of the first letter read, “The Little Way”. I took the newsletter and another missionary newsletter and found my way outside to the patio to watch my boys ride their tricycles on the basketball court and try to download my emails onto my phone. We recently canceled our internet to save money while at seminary so to retrieve email now takes a lot of time and patience to pick up the community center signal and wait for the slow downloading of messages. I feel so archaic now and almost pre-1997!

As the boys played, the sun became increasingly hot, my coffee got knocked over and my dependable phone could not download my messages. My morning plans were beginning to be thwarted. But I was thankful the boys were still able to play, especially as Daddy got to join us for a while, and I still had a small window of time to read a little. Eventually we made our way back down to our own patio, enclosed by flowering bushes and a short stone wall; my sanctuary. I dived into the newsletter, determined to find that treasure I knew was waiting for me.

As I started to read, my heart swelled with joy to read of the authors’ encounter with the writings of a 19th century French woman named Therese of Lisieu. Over 15 years ago, I found a collection of St Therese’s writing at a small Christian bookstore. That collection in itself was a rare find as I had not heard of this woman before, perhaps once, but I can’t recall. To see another writer’s encounter with the writing of St Therese and her “Little Way” further drew me into this newsletter. Years ago, I read with delight about the simplicity and joy she found in loving Jesus and His love for her. I saw in her writing a reflection of my own smallness, something that she eventually became content to accept as part of her calling. It was a delight to find that someone else had read these little known words of hers and had benefitted spiritually from them as I had. I wanted to know more about The House Between and the authors who lived here. So I continued to read.

“He that is a little one, let him turn to me.” Proverbs 9:16

In the Letters, Margie Haack, writes about the writing accomplishments of friends and literary mentors, of admitting her jealousy of their brilliance in writing, her repentance, and her acceptance of her own calling and the work that God has for her to do. Sharing one’s struggles publicly requires an artful balance of disclosure and modesty. I think she does this beautifully. She also shared about another 19th century woman, Christina Rossetti who also came to terms with her own smallness, and like Therese of Lisieu, saw it as part of her sacrifice and calling in life.

Haack also wrote about recent family news, a move from their old home, Toad Hall, to their new one, The House Between, and the beautifully rich meaning behind such a mysterious name for their home. It made me want to name our home and our future homes, our gardens, our patio because naming it gives it identity and purpose. Reflections on their garden, her granddaughter’s bread baking, future projects and aspirations and even prayer requests drew me into every word on each page.

One of her prayer requests was “Finding good and true words for writing.” I breathe deep with contentment as I affirm this need as a writer to find good and true words, to share, to find beauty in, and with which to describe our stories. She mentioned her blog which I’d love to share with you here: Toads Drink Coffee. After perusing her blog, I saw more things in common: a love for L’Abri Fellowship, for the teaching of Francis and Edith Schaeffer, similar music tastes, writing blogs, art blogs, homemaking blogs and liturgical year blogs. This woman is a kindred heart.

Upon arriving at The House Between, I was introduced to a new writing friend, years ahead of me in life experience and writing accomplishments. I do not consider myself a great writer. Instead, I am a student, content to be learning quietly the art of composition. I do not know exactly what my writing goals are, but the journey for me is like that of small beginnings as in Therese of Lisieu, Christina Rossetti, and Margie Haack. Perhaps my writing will always be small or perhaps one day, the Lord will see fit to share more of my writing with others. This I leave in the hands of God and seek to be faithful day by day as I live in my own “house between”.

Please visit Margie’s blog: toadsdrinkcoffee.blogspot.com

To receive Letters from the House Between, contact Ransom Fellowship on their website www.ransomfellowship.org and they will add you to their mailing list.

We thought of that place as “The House Between”, a place bound on one side by years past where we raised children, continued our ministry and grew older, and on the other side, a place in heaven where God holds a perfect place of restoration yet to come. Our new home is a reminder that this is only a ‘place between’ what is now and what will one day be true Home forever.
– Margie Haack, Letters from the House Between, Issue 1

A Tapestry of Grace ~ Wait For You {Part 1}

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in his word I hope;
my soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen for the morning,
more than watchmen for the morning.
Psalm 130:5-6

There is an abundance of spiritual treasures found in waiting on God. It is like a garden that Jesus walks into and plants dreams, hopes, and desires. Sometimes the waiting is short, sometimes the waiting takes years, and sometimes the waiting takes a lifetime. And in the joy, silence, struggle, and anticipation, we find that our souls are only waiting for One. He is Jesus.

Our stories are like a tapestry of woven threads of different colors and textures. From the back of this woven image, we cannot see how all of these intersecting threads could put together a portrait of discernible beauty. Yet the Weaver, the One who is writing our stories, sees and knows what He is creating. When revealed, we are able to see the transformation He has created.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time.” Ecclesiastes 3:11a

One of the blessings of growing older is being able to see seasons in your life that reach from the far distant past to now. Nearly 40 years old, I have the ability to see the stretch of years behind me and the transformation that took place in my soul over decades. My life is now not just divided into childhood, youth, and the early stages of adulthood in my twenties. It now spans different seasons in adulthood. It is divided into distinct chapters and periods of growth, change, and maturity.

One of the themes of life at seminary is “telling your story”. This theme comes out in many classes that my husband is taking and in the general life of building community here. Your story is of immense value! It is beneficial as a Christian to understand one’s own story, come to terms with parts of your story that are perhaps painful or difficult, celebrate the mighty things God has done in your life and the great blessings He has given, and to see how your story as a child of God fits into God’s eternal story.

I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. Galatians 2:20

As a writer and as a Christian, I have enjoyed writing out my story many times and sharing it whenever the Lord has given me opportunity. One of the reasons I want to continue to share my story is because I have come to see seasons of joy and seasons of suffering as gifts from the hand of God. My journey includes difficult seasons battling anxiety, perhaps due to having a near fatal bout of pertussis as an infant. After years of a beautiful childhood and teenage years, came a sudden onset of extreme anxiety at the age of sixteen. A chemical imbalance sent me into a tailspin of depression and anxiety requiring several years of doctor’s care, medication, therapy, and resulting in a passionate pursuit of God!

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22-23

Years ago, as a single woman, I recorded an album of original songs I had written over the span of 10 years called Wait For You. Little did I know that God was orchestrating a collection of songs that would be my testimony up until that point in my life. As I laid out the order of the songs for the album, I saw a journey forming, a tapestry of grace and redemption that could only be orchestrated by Jesus, my Good Shepherd.

Over several essays, I will be sharing snapshots of my story and songs, posting them intermittently over the next few months. I write and share this because when I first started to suffer from anxiety symptoms, I asked God to use this struggle all for His glory. My Savior and Lord had sovereignly put this trial into the story of my life, and though it was the dark night of my soul, I chose to submit myself to my Redeemer and trust Him, which was in itself a gift of grace.

And I say, “Oh, that I had wings like a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest;
yes, I would wander far away;
I would lodge in the wilderness; Selah
I would hurry to find a shelter
from the raging wind and tempest.”
Psalm 55:6-8

As I’ve shared my story, a drop in the bucket of the millions of stories of God working in the lives of His people, I have been able to have the blessing and privilege of hearing many others’ stories. God is the author of our stories and they are being grafted into His. Through His grace in our lives, and the work of the Holy Spirit, He shines brightly through these earthly jars of clay to those around us. May our earthly stories be like a compass pointing others to Christ and His Word that they, too, may be transformed by the Holy Spirit and the Word of God.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28

Christ Be With Me ~ A Morning Prayer

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

~ St Patrick’s Breastplate
(translation of a Gaelic poem by Cecil F. Alexander)

The sun rises slowly over the hill behind our home. Its an early morning before church. The mist rises steadily from the ground in the darkness pierced with the dawning of the morning. Such a quiet calm morning compared with the tempest of storm, wind, and downpour of hailstones the night before. The beauty after the chaos. The calm after the tempest. The rainbows in the evening, and the dawning of a new day. There are promises all around us.

I’m reminded of a poem, a prayer really. A prayer that was given, many years ago, many miles away in a far off village on the Ayrshire Coast of Scotland by an old friend and missionary. She gave this poem to me and it was exactly the words my heart needed to meditate on day and night. In these words, my heart was focused not on the things of earth, but on the One who had come. My heart was turned to the reality of the Living One, the Light of the World, the Messiah, Rescuer, the Lamb of God who is truly there. When I remember that I can be totally present with Him throughout every moment of my day, my struggles turn into rest, my fears are washed away in waves upon waves of grace. My anchor is Christ and in the perceiving of truth that Christ is everything to me, indeed He is eternal life, He gives an inexpressible joy. When my mind is overwhelmed, I only need One. Christ is my stability. Christ is my security. Christ is my rock I stand upon.

Hear my cry, O God,
listen to my prayer;
from the end of the earth I call to you
when my heart is faint.
Lead me to the rock
that is higher than I,
for you have been my refuge,
a strong tower against the enemy.
Let me dwell in your tent forever!
Let me take refuge under the shelter of your wings! Selah
For you, O God, have heard my vows;
you have given me the heritage of those who fear your name.
Psalm 61:1-5

May this meditation bring truth and peace to your soul today and may the reality of His presence in your life anchor you… in Christ.

Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love,
for in you I trust.
Make me know the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul.
Psalm 143:8