High Dive

Whew. 


This past semester was crazy. Going, going, going. Always having to be on top of my game, always ready to perform, always prepared for evaluations, presentations and whatever else came my way. During this time, I did short sprints toward the end of the week, just needing to survive until Friday afternoon so I could just crash.


Next semester begins the marathon. The continued going. Not only will I be student teaching in both a 5th grade and 7th grade Social Studies classroom but also delving into some hardcore fundraising for The World Race (only $14,000 to go...). I can already feel the tiredness creeping up on me as I prepare for my last semester at school and giving up everything I own to go around the world. 


Oh boy. It's going to be a rough one. 


I'm sitting on the edge of the high dive, ready to take a leap and free fall into the pool below. I'm ready. I've been working up to this moment. I can't wait to actually do it. Finally experience what I always thought of as the future. But I can't jump in just yet. There's a knot in my stomach. What if I fail? What if I find myself climbing down the ladder, shakily holding onto the rungs, disappointed that I couldn't make it and full of shame? 


I can only close my eyes and hope for the best.




This post went nowhere near where I intended it to go. Maybe that was necessary. 

A Christmas Wish

This morning a friend of mine emailed me a most unexpected email. She works at a recreation center in town and her department is in charge of the Santa's Mailbox each year. Around Christmastime, children put in letters to Santa and her department has the special responsibility of answering them. 


Yesterday, she received two special letters in Santa's Mailbox, not from children but rather a husband and wife. Usually I don't read cheesy emails like this but the sincerity of their hearts struck me and their letters reminded me about the basic message that the birth of Jesus brought to the world: There is hope for tomorrow.

Transcript: 

Dear Saint Nicholas,

it has been a long time since I have written you a letter, but Christmas is a time for child-like faith and so this year I choose to believe in you.

I am not asking for the latest Xbox game, Cabbage-Patch doll, or shiny new bicycle. Instead, my wife and I are adopting two children from the Democratic Republic of Congo and we would like to ask you for a favor.

You and your reindeer travel the world on Christmas Eve delivering toys to girls and boys. We do not know if our children have been naughty or nice, but we are certain that they are loved. Although we have never met, we already miss them more than words can express. 

This Christmas Eve, when you visit the orphanage in K***, could you make sure that our chilren are tucked in and safe? And we would ask that you whisper to them a simple message, in French, while they sleep:

"Votre mere et votre pere vous aime beaucoup. Ils viennent a vous ramener chez vous bientot."

(Your mother and father love you very much. They are coming to take you home soon.)

Thank you Santa, and next year we look forward to welcoming you to our home and delivering presents to two children who will be enjoying their first Christmas in Tennessee.

Grace and peace this holiday season,

Ken J. 

Transcript:

Dear Santa, 

I know I'm a little old to be writing you a letter, or even to be telling you what I want, but before you put me on the naughty list, know that this letter isn't for me. It's for my kids.

My kids are Rose and Emmanuel. They are ages 3 and 5, and they live in an orphanage in the Democratic Republic of Congo. We're in the process of adopting them, and things have come to a standstill since October. There had been an election, and rioting, and much instability in the country. We were hoping to be traveling to get them this time of year, but we still have months of paperwork and processes to go through before we can get them. I don't know for sure if they even know we exist, or know that they are loved. 

So, here are my Christmas wishes:

• Would you let Rose and Emmanuel know that they are loved and that we are desperately trying to bring them home?
• Would you make sure that their mosquito netting is snuggly around them and that they have a toy or blanket to cuddle with?
• Would you fill their caregivers with an extra amount of love, joy,  and patience, and help their security guard to be brave and strong?
• Would you give them the gift of laughter on Christmas day--even though they may not even realize what day it is?
• Most of all, would you protect the places in their hearts that are meant to be occupied by a mom, a dad, and Jesus, so that they don't give up hope too soon?

I know this is a lot to ask for, but I'd appreciate your help. I know you have lots of connections. Next Christmas, I hope to be helping Rose and Emmanuel to write letters of their own.

Merry Christmas!

Robin J.

Bigger or Better

Oh hey...


It's been a rather long time since I've updated hasn't it? Sorry about that, first there was this nasty paper about the character of Satan in Paradise Lost (it was a rather demonic time to say the least) (pun definitely intended). Then a crazy portfolio demanded all my attention like a needy boyfriend. Now we're onto finals week and while it's been chaotic, I think I've just gotten used to pandemonium in my life.


But let's move on to the fun things that I've been managing to squeeze in, shall we?


A few weekends ago, I was able to lead a D-NOW weekend with my very own youth group back home and wow, what a blast!


D-NOW weekends are youth group retreats that last a full weekend. A short glimpse of what happens goes like this: eat junk food, talk about Jesus, eat more junk food. Go to a church service, go sleep at a somebody's house, get in our jammies and eat more junk food. While talking about Jesus. Wake up at an ungodly hour after getting <4 hours of sleep and pretend to be hyped up for life while trying to wake up seven-ish teenage girls. Go back to church, eat junk food, play some ridiculous games and talking more about Jesus. Repeat for another full day. Sunday morning challenge: staying awake throughout the entire church service while only getting seven hours of sleep during the whole weekend.


No joke, D-NOW weekends are the highlight of my month. Ultimate party.


While I work at an incredible ministry where I lead DNOW weekends once every few weeks, to come home and be able to do this was incredible as I got to be with my Jesus family!

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Jesus Family (noun): In the Bible, Paul talks about how once we accept Christ, we become sons and daughters of God and all other believers are our brothers and sisters (Galatians 3:28). A Jesus Family is merely the group of fellow believers that meet with one another and encourage/love/sometimes rebuke each other. Yes, basically this is a church but I prefer Jesus Family for two reasons: 

1. Church has become a tainted word in that it no longer means 'the body of Christ' but rather a building. I don't love a building, I love people. It's hard to communicate with someone about the intimacy of God's love when they're constantly thinking of a building or even worse, a group of distant cold-hearted people that judge a person once they step through the door. 
2. I like the word family because it's real. Coming from a family who's experienced brokenness, I love seeing groups of people practicing true love in encouraging one another, seeking advice from each other, and merely asking how one is doing without simply taking "fine" as an answer. Of course there's fighting, just like a real family. There's arguing, disappointment, and jealousy as we're still human but there's still love that transcends all of that, as families do (Romans 12:5, Hebrews 10:25, Matthew 12:50, 1 TImothy 5:1-2).

I like to think of this as my Jesus Family's awkward family photo

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So anyways, back to my adventures. At one point in the weekend, we played a game called "Bigger or Better".

The rules of Bigger or Better are simple. Each team is given a small object like a golf ball. They then have a certain amount of time to go to random strangers and ask if they would be willing to trade for the golf ball that's bigger or better than the ball. Whoever brought back the best thing won.

So with a 1.5 hour limit and a group of middle school girls to join me, we set off to auction off our ball. 

I was expecting to come back with some cheesy item that even Goodwill wouldn't accept, but boy was I wrong!

Our first trade happened in a random neighborhood as we saw a man unloading groceries. Luckily for us, he loved golf and traded us the golf ball for...

A blue velvet sombrero!

Then we knocked on the next door and tried to convince the lady to take our sombrero. At first she thought we were crazy, which was acceptable, and said she didn't have anything to trade. But as we were walking away, she stopped us and said that she did have something:

Elvis. Cardboard, life-size Elvis. Who was motion-sensored and spoke Elvis-y sayings.

Oh the things people have in their houses. 

Although we knew that we would definitely win with Elvis, we decided to keep on trying since we had a good hour left in our adventure.

Then we arrived to another house who's garage door was open. We tempted him with motion-sensored Elvis and although he didn't want Elvis, he did have something to give away:

We hit the mother lode.

Unfortunately, I don't have the picture with us and the piano as another girl took that photo but there's nothing better than calling your youth pastor and asking to borrow his truck. "Why?"  "...because we found a piano". I bet he wasn't expecting that one.

So we did win, but here's the kicker:

We got back to the church to show off our goods and between the nine groups that went out, this is what we acquired:

• 1 piano
• 5 couches (yes 5!)
• 3 various other pieces of furniture
• 1 bunk bed
• 1 horse from a carousel
• 1 laptop missing its battery
• an old xbox
• a firepit
• 1 puppy (turned out that that group went to their house, no worries he has a good home)
• Various other things like: a dollhouse, a Predators hockey stick, a punching bag, other stuff that was found in people's garages.

Turns out many of these people had these things for a long time but just never had the transportation or manpower to get rid of the big objects like the piano so when a group of teenagers came knocking on doors to take anything, it was more of a godsend than to them than anything else.

*Note to self: when furnishing my first apartment, play Bigger or Better first before buying anything!

(also, sorry for the long post! Like I said, it's been a while!)