Preach!

This past weekend, I attended a women's retreat hosted by our parish. It was great. Very Catholic - in a very good way. We closed with a woman's testimony (Karen Rutherford) - the mother of our priest, Father Mark. [Yes, Catholics have testimonies.] and Karen brought.it! - if we were more southern, more African-American, and less white-midwestern, we probably would have been yelling, "PREACH!" over, and over, and over again.

One of the key points in her story was that we have got to be on our guard against the devil. She specifically quoted Ephesians 6:10-15. She had us sing "Strong Tower" by Kutless.

and, boy, did I need it today.

1 Peter 5:8 tells us that "our enemy, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion seeking someone to devour."

Today, I tried a new class at the gym. My friend, Karen (not Father Mark's mom), and I have been going to the gym for almost two months about 3-4 times/week. We've been lifting, running, and getting stronger.

We tried a barre class: specifically "Barre-Be." And that is not an accurate name. It should be called "This will kick your ass, punch you in the gut, and take your lunch money." It was hard. So hard, that about 15 minutes in...I almost had a break down.

I was on the verge of not just tears - a full-on, "I.can.not.do.this. I can't do anything. My life is so hard right now, and the last thing I need is something that is this hard that I have chosen to do" melt down. I was so close to just letting it all go that I had to physically stop, breathe, and ask God to give me the strength - mentally, emotionally, and physically - to keep going.

God helped me. I kept going. I was not going to cry. I'm tougher than that.

Ephesians 6 describes spiritual attacks like this - as flaming arrows. My battle, apparently, wasn't through. After the almost-meltdown (which was during mat-work), we moved to the bar. barre? barre. This allowed us to now have view of the wall of mirrors. [yea - half-hearted/self-conscious cheer]

[Now, I understand that the mirrors are designed to help you work on your form. But, really. Did men design these - or just gorgeous women without body image issues?]

Those arrows were pointed right at my exposed self-consciousness. "Wow. You really should have worn a different shirt. Ugh. Those love-handles. Look at those. Wow. Wow, I am actually the only person here with love handles. Coooool.... Wow. Look at these pants; they really emphasize my thighs. Wow, I actually have the biggest thighs here. Cooool.... Oh my gosh. I thought I was doing so good. ...I am never doing this class again." 

As I changed and tried to sift through this defeated spirit, my first desire was to go to Mass tonight and just get some Jesus in me. I realized that these thoughts are arrows trying to ruin me. But, they don't need to. I don't need to let them.

Paul (in Ephesians) and Peter both exhort - push - us to recognize that we must be alert. We must be on guard. Attacks will come at us when we start making in-roads to becoming the best version of ourselves (walking the road toward holiness and away from self-destruction). An attack is not a defeat (it's actually a sign you are getting somewhere).

Let's remember to utilize our power:

 Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. ¹¹ Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. ¹² For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. ¹³ Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. ¹⁴ Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, ¹⁵ and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. ¹⁶ In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. ¹⁷ Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.
¹⁸ And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people. ¹⁹ Pray also for me, that whenever I speak, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, ²⁰ for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should.  Ephesians 6:10-19

 Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. ⁹ Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings.
¹⁰ And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. ¹¹ To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen.   1 Peter 5:8-11

 As I drove away from the gym, "Strong Tower" started playing in my head; my sign from the Holy Spirit, that He's got this.

America without mercy is just a-i-a, which is a lot like ay-yi-yi

This message has been tossed around in my head for months now. Months. Since November, when politicians first started swearing to board up the country and refuse Syrian and Iraqi refugees...and I've let it sit here. Sit here, stewing, hoping that at some point the country would be shaken from this bad dream that seems to be gripping us.

Yet, here I still sit, watching a dream morph into a nightmare believing that at some point, we'll wake up - gasping for air, yes - but thankful, it was all a dream.

I have no idea where to start. So, I'll just say this: Lord, have mercy. Christ have mercy.

What is mercy - but a picture of the God's loving kindness (hesed)? His willingness as the father of the prodigal son, who wished him dead, to stoop down and embrace his son? His willingness to reach down low into the muck and mire, risking his reputation, to pull up a child - or even an animal - destined to die unless one reached out?

This is what each of us, whether we embrace the mercy of Jesus or not, has been offered. This is what we, for those who call ourselves "believers" have received. THIS is what we, as believers, must offer to others.

To do so, though, we must first recognize that we are in the muck and the mire - and we are not those on the sidelines helping others out...we are simply extending a hand to our fellow sinner - and together, we grasp the hand of our Father. This is the image God revealed to me on Saturday while I was talking to him about a guy that I don't particular care for (and no, it wasn't the Donald; just a fellow parishioner that I don't even know well - so I'm just being judgy)...and the image I saw was that his hand was necessary for me to even get closer to the surface because he was closer to the surface than me [that's how much I am in the muck].

Mercy is not just between us and God. To be the body of Christ is not just between us and our church or just between us and people who believe like us. To be the body of Christ, we must be showing mercy to every body. We must be willing to risk ourselves so that another might live.

...and what I see from my beloved America is, instead of living the freedom that comes from being the body of Christ - fear.

FEAR.

We are afraid to be open to any new group of people, to admit the imperfections of our history and past - because, God forbid, we won't be great, any more.

That is never what made us great. What made America great was unity - and geez, when in our history have we experienced unity in all things? (never!) But, we recognized that in our great freedom, that we must show mercy: we must recognize my neighbor as better than myself; I must consider the needs of another as much as I consider my own. A spirit of brotherhood united even when we disagreed on the specifics.

Didn't it? Or is this just my idealization of America? Because I really don't know, anymore.

There have been dark times in our past. People have been oppressed. Admitting these things doesn't make America small. Repentance leads to reconciliation. Maybe "your people" had nothing to do with slavery because they weren't even in America yet. I get it. That doesn't mean you can't listen to those whose family stories have been defined by a great, dehumanizing, injustice. We must listen and acknowledge for some healing to begin.

The immigration issue won't be solved with a fence. It is not simple. Every day people risk their lives to wander across a mountainous desert...for what? To be greeted by a country that spits at them, locks them up, and sends them back? I guess I don't understand why it's such an arduous process to allow immigrants. What happened to Ellis Island? Why can't Nogales and Douglas and El Paso and San Diego become beacons of hope like Ellis Island was for my ancestors?

Because some might be drug dealers? Some might be rapists? I think we've got Americans who are drug dealers, rapists, terrorists...so, what are we really afraid of? [which is the same argument I'd pose for allowing Syrian and Iraqi refugees to come]

For those of us who call ourselves Christians, it becomes especially pertinent to fight our fears and embrace those who are hurting, sick, alien - different from us in every way. No, America may not be the same America from your childhood - but, that's part of the beauty, right? We are grasping each other's hands and swimming toward life.

The aspiration of life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness is not found without being in a community. To be an island is contrary to the Gospel...and the Gospel is Truth, is it not? We don't get to choose our community. We've got to struggle in this together.

To close...just don't give in to fear, ok, America? Don't succumb to hate or division. We are better than that. We must be better than that.

The art of detachment

The last two months have really driven home to me the necessity of detachment. St. Ignatius of Loyola, founder of the Jesuit (Society of Jesus) order, was staunch supporter of detachment.

I was first introduced to the concept while reading “My Life with the Saints,” by Fr. James Martin, SJ (SJ means Society of Jesus, btw). 

Each chapter of the book details a saint who has had a significant impact upon Martin’s life. As a Jesuit, the life of St. Ignatius has impacted Martin. There are many areas of Ignatian spirituality that resonate with my soul; one particular challenging way is the practice of detachment. [I started typing “idea of” and realized my challenge not the idea – it’s making the idea a reality.]

Part of the ways that God has been shaping my life/heart is opening my eyes and heart to remember that this life is not all there is. Post-college, I was pretty detached. It was easy to say “whatever you will, God” when it was just me. …and then, I got what I wanted. I got married! …and, suddenly, (perhaps it wasn’t sudden at all) I wanted my way. I wanted Dan. I wanted this life. I wanted all the things my dreams were made of, and I could never be satisfied with less.

As a result, my relationship to God suffered. Why? How? Well, it’s quite simple. I didn’t want Jesus. I wanted everything else – with a side of Jesus. A helping of righteousness alongside the main dish of Jessica’s desires. Dan as the main course seasoned with a dusting of God’s miracle blessing dust.

[Excuse me while I puke.]

It has taken me awhile since the diagnosis to get to a point of accepting detachment. July 28 – January 8 was filled with a lot of rosaries. As those who are familiar with the Rosary know, that means 5 “Our Fathers” a day. Five times a day, I was asking that God’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven…but, what I really meant was my will. I meant that he bring about the outcome I wanted: miraculous healing for Dan, preventing him from suffering, deliverance from this trial.

This meant that my faith, my hope, my trust was all circumstantial. If Dan was getting better, Yea! God is good. But, as he continued to get sicker December 19^th through January, faith falters when dependent on an outcome like that.

On January 5, we met with the bone marrow doctor – and if you want a reality check: that’s where you need to go. I can’t speak for Dan, but hearing that what we had put our hopes in as a cure could potentially kill – it rocked me. I’ve blogged about this before, so I won’t go back there – had it not been for God’s mercy in providing me a new perspective, I do not know how I would be so full of hope now.

I started the following on January 15 about detachment:

Today (Friday) is our new chemo day, which means that on this day we meet with our doctor and we find out news. Approaching these days can be 'hard' - especially on days when you know results are coming. How do you prepare your heart for good news or bad news?

This fall, I read a little bit about St. Ignatius (founder of the Jesuits, aka 'Society of Jesus') - and his response would be to detach from the outcome. Detaching from the outcome does not mean giving up or accepting defeat. It simply indicates this greater understanding that the outcome of a test doesn't need to disrupt my faith: love for Jesus.

Dan and I were discussing this idea today: if treatments don't go as planned, it doesn't mean God isn't for us. ...and when we get bad news or there is confusion - that also doesn't mean that God isn't for us. ...but, it can feel like it.

So, rather than pin my hopes on an outcome (favorable or unfavorable), I have been getting back in touch with the unchanging, unwavering God who is. This God revealed himself to us through Jesus Christ - who demonstrated a radical way of loving - the Father and humanity. How did he do this?

Detachment. In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus prayed three times that the Father's will be done over his own desire. Through this, he submitted to a plan bigger than his own life. When he came to earth, he emptied himself of his rights as the second Person of the Trinity. Being found in the likeness of a man, Jesus practiced obedience to the Father. He accepted every part of what it means to be human - even dying (a horrible, excruciating, humiliating death).

The hope of His suffering and death was the resurrection: LIFE can come from death. Death is not the end. “Where, O Death, is your victory? Where, O Death, is your sting?” [not to say that life cannot be lonely for us  in the wake of death – but death is not the end]

Learning to practice detachment has helped me not only reconnect with the God who is, but, once again, God Himself has become my hope. Yesterday’s (2/25) reading from Jeremiah reminded me that our hope can be unfailing, when it is in the right place.

Reading 1 Jeremiah 17:5-10

Thus says the LORD:
Cursed is the man who trusts in human beings,
who seeks his strength in flesh,
whose heart turns away from the LORD.
He is like a barren bush in the desert
that enjoys no change of season,
But stands in a lava waste,
a salt and empty earth.
Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD,
whose hope is the LORD.
He is like a tree planted beside the waters
that stretches out its roots to the stream:
It fears not the heat when it comes,
its leaves stay green;
In the year of drought it shows no distress,
but still bears fruit.
More tortuous than all else is the human heart,
beyond remedy; who can understand it?
I, the LORD, alone probe the mind
and test the heart,
To reward everyone according to his ways,
according to the merit of his deeds.

Detachment, then, is not the art of being separated from all things – but separating our dependence, devotion, and allegiance from all the things that cannot bring life (eternal satisfaction). The art of detachment is being fully attached to the Lord, from whom our help comes. Detachment is hoping in the Lord – not only for deliverance from a trial – but even more, for communion with the One who is…Life, Love, Truth, the Way. 

May this be the prayer for us all:
Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose hope is the Lord!

To my twenty-somethings...

Well, the time has come for me to write this post. I’ve been teaching a course focused on professional development for juniors and seniors for the past 6 weeks; I’ve advised college students for nearly 5 years; I’ve informally advised my TRIO kids as they progressed through college for 13 years. AND I’ve lived my own life. So, the time has finally come for this announcement:

NO DECISION YOU MAKE IS REALLY GOING TO SCREW YOUR LIFE UP THAT MUCH.

So, Beloved Student, just STOP. STOP with the freaking out already. STOP with the posts about panic attacks and how “grown-ups” just don’t understand the pressure you’re under. STOP ruining college by obsessing over the things that don’t matter – like every point you miss. Because why? You are missing the point.

1)      The point of college – of your freakin’ life, actually – is to LEARN. It is to GROW. To be a better person tomorrow than you are today. So you know what? No one actually expects you to have it all together? None of us expect you to know it all – and we’d like it if you would actually chill out and listen to us when we try to talk you off the ledge.

So, the next time that you miss a point because you didn’t read directions that clearly, just own it – and don’t do it next time. The next time that you get a 2.5 (or C+) on a test that you thought you understood, go to office hours and ask your professor or TA to show you what you missed. Explain to them how you understood to do it – and then pay attention to the example they give – and notice the gap from what you did to what they did.

That gap that you just noticed? That’s where learning can take place now. When you address the “dissension” between what you thought and the reality/right version is where learning can take place.

All those reflection papers you have to do about the process? Again, that is to help you acknowledge learning. The person you are at the end of the semester should be different from the beginning because you have discovered more about yourself. Processing how your writing, speaking, application of information has improved recognizes the growth – learning – that has taken place.

2)      More schooling does not help you know what you want to do with your life. If you’re not employable with a BS, what makes you think an MS will make you employable? Being employable is about experience, skills, and talents. So, get out of the library and get some experience!

3)      Your elders – parents, bosses, professors, advisors – are not unreasonable, unfeeling monsters that lack an understanding of just how “real” “the struggle is.” I. GET. IT.

I vividly remember telling my mom as a 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, and 29-year-old just how much SHE did not understand what it was like to be my age and have no idea where your life was going. Truthfully, her life was very different from mine. She married at 22, and a lovely, delightful daughter at 23 – and, to me, her life was just pretty settled after that. I don’t know that my mom ever struggled with the feelings of restlessness and unease, anxiety and doubt, like I did. Because, you know what? She made a choice and she lived it. She didn’t obsess about the goodness or badness of her decision. I imagine that she reasoned if she was really on the wrong path, God would make it abundantly clear to her.

I remember, as a 23-year-old, feeling desperate in my singleness – alone and wondering how I would ever meet that person – having dinner with an older (read: 29 or maybe 33) single person, and wondering how in the world this person could be so content. It seemed to me that would be the end of the world. (hahaha, God. I was 31 when I got married and the timing seemed just fine then)

So, I can’t speak for all the adults in your life, but I do “get it.” I completely understand the turbulent twenties, and that is why I write this post. If I could go back and tell myself one thing, it would be this:

Eliminate RIGHT or WRONG from your life plans.

The “right” college? Is a college that fits your interest and has your major.

The “right” major? Is a major that you enjoy learning about and prepares you to get a job.

The “right” job? Is a job that pays you a living wage and allows you to contribute to society (oh and benefits are a plus, too). Preferably that job is in your field – but it doesn’t have to be. It’s okay. You can get a job for a tech company and be an animal science grad – and still be engaged in the animal world.

I obsessed so much over doing the right thing and wondering if it was what God really wanted for me…and much of the time, I believe His response to me was: you have a vast space that I’ve put you in. I’ve given you talents and desires; I’ve give you My Word to guide you and My Spirit to direct you. If you are in line with me, feel freedom to choose.

If the decision you are about to make really matters to the outcome of your life – and you are about to go contrary to where that is: God will let you know.

There are many examples of God intervening in individuals’ lives throughout the Bible and lives of the saints in dramatic fashion. In one instance so far, God has also done this for me.

It was February 2008 and I was ready for a change – career change, mostly. I was 27, had just finished as Iowa MAEOPP President, and really had gotten a sense for my ability to accomplish real work. I started to get a sense not only of my calling, but of my desire to be more than what I’d thought in college.

At the beginning of January, I started reading [Journey of] Desire by John Eldredge. The premise of this book is to realize that the desires you’ve “always” had, your natural talents – those are gifts from God. You have been created in Christ Jesus for good works – and those don’t require you to divorce yourself from your self to be from God. This was a revelation from me. You mean the things that I’d always desired – to be married, to be involved in the ag community, to help others enact their potential – those could be good? Those could be used by God? He gave them to me?  Whoa. [When I was becoming Catholic, I realized this part of the beauty of the incarnation of Jesus as man.]

Fast forward to mid-February. I had a job interview to be an Upward Bound Director in Minneapolis on the 12^th; interviews for assistantships at the Ohio State University’s Student Personnel graduate program (or whatever the full name is) on the 14/15^th; interviews for Iowa State University’s Educational Leadership & Policy Studies’ assistantships. BIG deals. BIG game-changers for my life path.

One night, I woke up around 3am and could not get back to sleep. Try as I might, sleep evaded me. So, I decided to pray. I prayed for EVERYONE and everything I could think of (except my upcoming interviews), and still no sleep.

“God! Why can’t I sleep?” I demanded. I had the prompting of a thought: “What do you have coming up this week, Jessica?”

“Well, I have these 3 interviews….”

Then, this vision popped in my head:

I was in a hallway with 3 large, heavy, wooden doors – closed – in front of me. I knew what each door represented, what was behind them – and I could sense just how heavy and how closed they were.

“What would you like?”

“Ugh. I don’t know, God! Show me which one to go through!”

“Jessica, if you knew the One who was showing you these, who had the power to…”

Then, I saw it: a window appeared beside the doors. But, the window – though also closed – I could see through to a field basking in full sunlight; rolling, golden-green hills. I knew: this was my desire. This was what I really wanted. And, this could only be mine if opened by God. Only God could make this window into an open door.

“Open the window, God! God, I want you to open the window!” I cried out pleadingly.

Like that, the vision was gone. It was 5am. I was wide awake and full of energy. I knew that I would go to each of those interviews – but I would not be choosing them. I didn’t know exactly what I would be choosing – but within a day, I did. I chose to get a Master of Science in Ag Ed with an emphasis on Extension.

If I had gone to Minneapolis or Columbus, it is highly unlikely that I would be where I am today. If I had done ELPS, I don’t think I would have been happy in what I learned. I truly love learning about learning – and teaching to engage learning. ...and, who knows if I would have met Dan?

In Dan’s life, he had a similar redirection – but not quite as spiritual. He was all set to go to grad school at Colorado State and study meat science. ONE WEEK before he was to move to Fort Collins, Dr. Hogberg called and offered him the Graduate Shepherd assistantship – and he came to Iowa State instead.

So, my dear young friends: when God needs to change your path, HE WILL.

Until then, go forward with some confidence that if life was a series of do or die decisions, He would give you a blueprint. Remember that He is a loving God; He isn’t cruel. As my dad said once, “If you are faced with a series of choices – and none seem to be closed, and none are out-of-line with His plan (outlined in the Bible), and none are immoral – then, God is allowing you to use your God-given intellect and freedom to choose. So, choose with confidence.”

Lastly, I would love to urge you to find joy in this time of life.  Personally, I worried so much about how my life would turn out at times, and if I could speak this truth to me, I would. Would I have believed this sage advice? Probably not. Some things, I am unfortunately hell-bent on learning MY way – through experiencing all the feelings, and feeling all the bumps in the road – until I let God shine some light upon my understanding.

But, 14 years after being a senior in college with no life plan after August: I now see that what God has guaranteed us is this moment (and eternity). So, find the lesson in this moment. Feel the feelings – and then find the peace and the joy only found in the presence of Jesus – and just live this present circumstance.

…and above all, ENJOY COLLEGE. At the very least, listen to your friend who wants to take you out for your 21^st birthday even when you have a final the next day. That’s what college memories are made of. Right, Pam?

FFA is from Mars; 4-H is from Venus

I wrote about FFA Saturday, so in my reflective, "what made Jessica" state I thought I'd weigh in on 4-H, too. I'd like to begin with a ground-breaking statement:

4-H and FFA are not the same.

Just like men and women are not the same; 4-H and FFA are not the same. Like men and women are similar, 4-H and FFA are similar. Like men and women are different, 4-H and FFA are different. A man isn't the same as a woman; one cannot replace the other. If the world was full of all men, where would the reproduction be? Similarly, if the world was full of women, where would the reproduction be? We must co-exist to co-create (and procreate). Men and women are wonderful complements to each other; similarly 4-H and FFA are wonderful complements to each other - but one cannot replace the other.

For me, 4-H fostered the skills necessary to be a competent and competitive FFA member. Without 4-H, I never would have joined FFA. FFA was attractive to me as an arena to take my skills to the next level. FFA would not have been attractive to me if I didn't already have those skills - or the self-confidence to pursue competition.

Iowa 4-H is different from Arizona 4-H is different from Michigan 4-H. Iowa 4-H county to county is different, as well. (And, in my humble opinion, I like it that way. Of course, I was in a county with an excellent leader - and that does make all the difference.)

My 4-H experience looked like this: I was part of an all-girl club (yes, really; those were rare 20 years ago and now they're like a unicorn; people hardly believe they ever existed). Our club was a community (technically township) club - compared to a project area club. As club members, our projects ranged from food & nutrition to clothing to horticulture to livestock projects. As a club, we performed service activities for our community and county. We met once a month (in someone's home at first; later at our church), discussing club business, learning something new (from members' demonstrations), and enjoying each others' company.

My club required that every year, we had to do a demonstration (read: a presentation where you teach others to do something) - and for the first few years, we were assigned a general topic that correlated to a project area (food and nutrition, clothing, etc). My first presentation was about measuring ingredients. (I had no idea what to talk about; my mom picked the topic)

I joined in the 4th grade, which was the first year that I could join. My 4-H age (a real thing) was usually an entire year younger than my actual age. (That's a good idea now that I think of it; I will go with that and be 35 a for another 9 months.) When I joined, two of my friends were also new members. Nearly every other member was at least 4 years older than me.

I was a really shy kid. This may surprise some people who have known me because when I am comfortable around people, shy would not be the word that would cross your mind. Opinionated. Loud. But, shy? Yes. One of my strengths (winning others over) also causes me to get anxious about social situations (I-just-want-to-be-liked-what-if-no-one-likes-me?). So, giving a presentation in front of high school students that I looked up to (idolized is probably a better word) could induce a panic attack. But, my mom instilled in me the importance of the great speaking anxiety reducer: practice.

So, I practiced. I gave my presentation with confidence. I learned that I can do this. I was less nervous about speaking. I started creating my own presentations and choosing topics. I looked forward to giving my presentation and sharing my knowledge. I took more 'risks' - and did communication projects with my club (Share-the-Fun) and with a friend (working exhibits). I found success.

4-H taught me that with practice you can master skills. 4-H taught me that everything is scary at first; practice makes it less scary. 4-H taught me that life is about process not the outcome.
(Okay: now let's look at interesting juxtaposition. Ironic that now Extension is so focused on outcomes that states have decimated what made their programs so successful?)

Learning those lessons gave me confidence in my abilities. I became a less shy kid. In fact, when given the opportunity to shine (thank you Deb Hall), I actually sought people out. My WOO strength bloomed thanks to opportunities provided through Adair County Youth Council, Area 4-H Council, SOFA, and State Council.

It was through County & Area Councils and SOFA Planning Team that I learned how to be a collaborative leader. My strength of ideation went into full-force dreaming up day camps, workshops, field trips, and t-shirt design. Implementing these camps and trips allowed me to practice my adaptability strength - and learn to welcome the unpredictable.

4-H allowed me grow into the person I am by fostering opportunities to develop talents. These talents were strengthened through county, area, and state opportunities. FFA provided a platform to exercise the talents in a competitive setting. 4-H is collaboration; FFA is competition. (Kinda like the feminine and masculine energies, huh?) Both are valuable; both teach essential life lessons - but different lessons and through different methods.

Doing to Learn; Learning to Lose

• Learning to Do 
• Doing to Learn
• Earning to Live
• Living to Serve

Any good FFA member will recognize the first half of the blog title as the second line in the FFA motto; the second half is what I got most out of FFA.

I have been known to refer to FFA as the great disappointment in my early life. I also benefited in numerous ways: including learning how to deal with disappointment. FFA didn't teach me how to lose - or be okay with losing. Rather, FFA taught me how to get back up again.

Donning the national blue and corn gold wasn't something I "knew" I would do growing up (unlike 4-H). I didn't even think about joining FFA or taking Ag Ed classes - because I wasn't interested in farming - until I attended our chapter's FFA banquet as an 8th grader. Then, I heard the FFA Creed. With each "I believe...," I became a believer that FFA would be integral to my future.

I started FFA as a freshmen with big goals:
1) Be Freshmen Creed Speaker.
    1a) Go to State.
    1b) Win State.
2) Make it to State every year for a speaking contest.
    2a) Earn gold.
3) Be Chapter President.
4) Be a District Officer.
5) Be a State Officer.
6) Be selected for the Chapter Farmer award (given to the outstanding senior).
7) Be part of the Soils Team that goes to Nationals.
8) Earn a State FFA Degree.
9) Earn enough points to be a chapter delegate to National FFA Convention as a senior.

My actual FFA list?
1) Be Freshmen Creed Speaker. CHECK. 
    1a) Go to State.  At Sub-Districts (first competition), say the 4th paragraph instead of the 2nd.
    1b) Win State.
2) Make it to State every year for a speaking contest. Revised goal: Make it to State 3/4 years. CHECK.
    2a) Earn gold. Sophomore: State Silver, Extemporaneous Speaking; Junior: State Gold (3rd place), Parliamentary Procedure; Senior: State Gold (2nd place), Prepared Public Speaking
3) Be Chapter President. Ran for every office...elected Sentinel (the last election).
4) Be a District Officer. Slated for Vice-President (junior year); not elected.
5) Be a State Officer. Slated for State Vice-President (representing SW District) [senior year]; not elected.
6) Be selected for the Chapter Farmer award (given to the outstanding senior). CHECK.
7) Be part of the Soils Team that goes to Nationals. CHECK.
8) Earn a State FFA Degree. CHECK.
9) Earn enough points to be a chapter delegate to National FFA Convention as a senior. CHECK.
10) Discover my college major: agricultural education - and a love of experiential learning. 

I could go into great detail about the pain of disappointment that accompanied each failed goal. However, that transfers the focus from the great lesson - the great gift that FFA gave me. 

As a freshmen in high school, I had to first learn how to deal with disappointment. At Sub-Districts, when I got into the competition room, I felt so alone - with this weight of expectation of success on my shoulders. In spite of hours of flawless practice and the way the Creed resounded with my idealist soul: I screwed up. There was no way to undo it, either. I had to take my lumps and move forward. 

Moving forward seemed so difficult, though. I felt like such a let-down. I felt like I was a disappointment. My advisor had high expectations (at least, I thought so) - that I was good enough to win state - and I didn't even make it past sub-districts. I felt like I let my parents down. I know I let me down.

And here, I learned my first lesson: I am not a disappointment. My worth as a person is not tied to my success in a contest. I can encounter disappointment; I can cause disappointment - but who I am is separate from any successes or failures. 

I also learned my second lesson: never underestimate a contest or overlook a step toward your goal. I started to write out my goals for FFA and Speech contests - and I outlined each step necessary to get to my ultimate goal, so that I wouldn't take any part for granted. There are no "little" contests or victories. Each one matters. 

I also started a "pre-game" ritual for any contest or interview I participated in. I *always* took a moment to pray before entering the room. I prayed not only for the ability to do my best and wisdom to answer their questions, but also for the judges - that they would judge fairly with wisdom and grace. Though I didn't know anything about "centering" then, this small act was a chance for me to center - but also take the focus off judgement of me or my performance. It allowed me to recognize that even in circumstances where I gave my best, there could be those who are better - and I needed to be able to recognize that.

The other major disappointments all circle around elections (how fitting for the caucus/primary season). Through each loss, I realized that sometimes, the most qualified candidate doesn't win. Sometimes, the person with better ideas, and the capacity to bring leaders together to create change loses to the "fat guy in the little coat." Bernie Sanders take note: idealism rarely trumps humor in a popular vote.

Young Jessica was such an idealist. (Let's be honest, though: don't we want our young people to be idealists? To think the best about others? To trust and believe that good people working together can change the world? Isn't that better than raising a world of cynics? Or worse - disengaged, disheartened kids who think they can never change anything?) FFA helped me realize that no, life isn't always fair. You don't always get what you want. Sometimes, you can't win everyone over.

What I learned most from losing chapter president (and every other election - 5 - until sentinel) was "leadership is action - not position." (Thanks Mom for the plaque with this saying - given to help 'cheer' me up after the loss.) Honestly, this loss was such a blow to me that for a brief moment, I thought about quitting. I just didn't understand how people couldn't jump on board with my vision to take our chapter up a notch. I had all these dreams - and now, they would never happen.

Until, I realized that no one needs to be elected to make change. For change to happen, what is necessary is desire and action. If I was only interested in making those ideas happen in order to be President, then what kind of a leader was I? Self-interested; self-important. Faced with that loss, I needed to decide if I was a leader by character or a leader by title. FFA taught me that character leadership is more valuable than any title.

FFA also taught me when to walk away. (Ok, actually, Kenny Rogers did. FFA just provided the opportunity). Being a state officer was a goal of mine from freshmen year - but when that didn't happen my senior year, I was okay walking away. I could have come back another year to run (which would have meant running against a good friend) - but I just wasn't interested. I was ready to start fresh in college. I was thankful to FFA, but I didn't need to be a lifer.

Now, I am married into a family full of more successful FFA members. Of the 5 of us, 3 were state officers; 4 have American degrees (not me); we all have state degrees. Just between Dan and I, his victories trump mine: State President, Regional (in Iowa we call them District) Officer, Chapter President, Prepared Public Speaking State winner & National contestant - and more than I could list off the top of my head.

1998 FFA: on the left - my friends and I post-banquet (I'm far left); right - Ryan (Dan's best friend) and Dan

What I needed most from FFA, though, I received. I needed to learn that the outcome doesn't define me (or my worth): I am more than my failures and successes. The best person doesn't always get elected, but that is not an excuse to quit or to stop leading. I needed to learn that participating in contests isn't actually about the color of the award. Above all, I needed to know how to get back up when disappointment knocks me down - and to reframe the experience into a lesson.
[I didn't get to share that in a motivational closing officer speech, though, which will probably be one of my life's great regrets.]

When you think about it, don't we all need those lessons?

When I think of my students (current and former) who are afraid to fail: wouldn't it have been better for them to do and fail - and get back up again - when they were 14 instead of 21 - or 25? What could we be capable of if we knew that failure wouldn't ruin us, but actually makes us better?

Update

Hello Friends!

I know I haven't posted an update about Dan in awhile, but when things keep changing...it's sort of hard to know just what exactly to post. Without further ado....

1) What in the world is wrong with Dan?
That seems to still be the question of the moment. On December 20 and 21, Dan had a low-grade fever each day (after being outside at judging practice in cold weather for 8ish hours). On 12/22, he had a lumbar puncture to check on the progress of getting rid of the lymphoma in the spinal fluid. That day, he started developing an HSV (herpes simplex virus) on his upper-lip, and it started swelling (but no fever). We drove to Iowa. By the time we got there, he had a fever of 101-something. He took Tylenol that night, but in the morning had a fever of 102-something. That day (12/23), he was able to be seen by my cousin (a PA at U of I clinics). He got on an antibiotic and steriod. He had no fevers the next 3 days and looked/felt better.

On the evening of 12/27, he started running a fever again. He had a fever from then until this past Wednesday (1/6). The first few days, he could break them with Tylenol. On 12/31, we went to the ER in Ann Arbor based on the recommendation of the on-call doc. At this point, Dan's left sinus was swollen visibly, and he "smelled" like an infection. [Don't ask me how, but the nose knows!]
The ER doc ran all sorts of blood work, chest x-ray, and a blood culture on his port - all came back negative. So, he sent us away without anything. When I asked him about a possible sinus infection, he said, "As a medical community, we overdiagnose sinus infections. I don't want to prescribe anything for that until he's had symptoms for about 14 days."

...okay. Well, the next week was HELL. Dan had drenching night sweats and was exhausted. Guess what? His blood work from Tuesday (when we met with our doctor) shows that the EBV (Epstein-Barr virus) is back again. For the last four months (since mid-September), those numbers had been so small, they wouldn't register on tests.

So, back to the question...what is wrong with Dan?

Our doctor is trying to figure that out and also trying to figure out the next/right/optimal course of action. Please pray for her. Dan likes her (which is a first), and I know she is trying really hard; please pray that God will give her insight (and that she's open to some leading from the Holy Spirit).

With this latest round of infection, Dan's white blood cell count, platelets, etc. (the blood work) look like he did when he came to UM in August (and after the hospital stay in September). The t-cell count in his spinal fluid is lower (good)...but, what is really wrong? Why the recurrence of EBV?

She thinks he may have hemophagolymphohistiocytisis (HLH). The way I understand this is it's where his immune system totally over-reacts to any infection. To know for sure, she is going to need to have some genetic testing done.

2) How is the lymphoma treatment going?

Good? The t-cell number in the spinal fluid is going down. Tonight, he has a PET scan to see if there are fewer/more hot spots than in August. Please pray for there to be fewer. Please God, good news! I don't know if we will have the results by Friday when we meet with Dr. McCoy again.

3) So, what's the treatment plan?

Currently: Dan is getting chemo once a week (Fridays) of etopycide. This is the chemo that makes your hair fall out, so the growth that has been coming back will be gone again.

But you know what? God numbers the hairs on our head - and He knows how many will be lost, and also He can make it grow back again, and he'll still know how many hairs there are.

4) And next? Honestly, who really knows?

We met with the bone marrow transplant (BMT) doctor on Tuesday. It is currently too early to tell if Dan will be a good candidate for this because he still has the abnormal t-cells in his spinal fluid. In the chance that he is, they are starting the matching process.

A few of you have expressed a willingness to get tested. They only request tests from full siblings because of it is more likely that they will have the similar genes/DNA. (Remember I'm not a doctor or a science major; I'm an educator, so I may not get the specifics right.) They don't even take a specimen from parents because you only have 50% of DNA from each parent. In the event that siblings are not a match, the search moves to the bone marrow registry. IF you are willing to be a registered bone marrow donor, then you can visit 'Be the Match' and start the process. If you are already in the registry, then you don't need to do anything special. If you match up with Dan, they'll contact you.

The BMT doctor recommends that Dan's case be looked at by the immuno-deficiency team, since it seems like there is a larger issue with Dan than simply lymphoma. If it was just lymphoma, then (my understanding) is that he'd be doing much better than he is.

5) ....and, you, how are you?

This is probably a post for another day. Currently, I am doing well. Last week was really rough, but I had a good "counseling session" with my chiropractor, which really turned my perspective around.

Many of you express a desire to help - and I thank you for that. Often that's followed with, 'You just tell me.' Here's the deal with that: I probably won't...and it's nothing to do with you, personally. It's just that I don't think about that until I'm overwhelmed.

So, if you want to help:
a) Make us food. (preferably healthy good, btw) Preferably on Thursday or Friday nights when we're traveling with chemo.
aa) If you don't want to burden us with too much food, then someone start a "meal" sign up, so it's organized.

b) Call Dan. Invite him to do stuff. Get him out and get him talking. He really wants to see 'The Revenant' (like he talks about it all.the.time) and I really do not. By the way, if too many people call Dan on a given day, he may not answer; he gets tired answering the same stuff over and over, again. Keep it fresh.

c) Call me. Invite me to do stuff. Get me out, and get me talking about Jesus. I mean it. Raise me up; get my view off the current trials and tell me about the glories that far outweigh them. Tell me about what is going on in your life. It is not frivolous. Get me out of myself.

...but above all, don't wait for us to call you. If we are on your mind/heart, pray for us, and let us know. We need to be daily reminded that God is for us. Don't wait for us to reach out because the only people I'm willing to be crazy vulnerable with are my parents and Dan. I just don't like crying or being ridiculously, irrationally emotional around people...yet. It's not personal; it's just me.

Christmas - don't miss it

[Disclaimer: some of this may not seem very bright and shiny, and a little bitter, even. These are my thoughts, and to get to a place of healing, understanding, insight, and growth, I must let them out.]

I don't really know where to start; only that I need to speak my mind or I will not ever rest. This was a hard Christmas because I felt like I was strong-arming God, holding him at arm's length to keep him from getting too close...because if he came closer, I might just break.

I don't know if it's the reality or the gravity of our situation that is coming home to roost, but I feel HEAVY. Burdened. Like a person fumbling in darkness.

And the promise that "the people walking in darkness have seen a great light" just doesn't seem real. By real, I mean present. And, when people with bright, shiny lives post "the weary world rejoices," I am cynical. What do they know of weariness? But, further...I want to know...where is the rejoicing?

I am weary. I am weary and I have only had this burden six months - or a year - or 4 - or however far back you want to go. And where is the rejoicing?

Where is Jesus?

When you receive more bad news - on Christmas, no less...then the shiny posts about a Savior coming to the brightly lit, shiny packaged world seems even more revolting. Who is need of a Savior when we are so secure we can worship his coming without a thought of those with less? When we gather and store and pity those who can't, but do nothing to share? We are so full that we miss him, even when he is here; even when he is being celebrated. We want the idea and not the reality.

Oh, this is me. Am I not the world's chief idea-list? I love ideas for the possibility, the fun in dreaming the new world. I have wanted the washed-up, polished, sterile, SAFE Christmas. The happy family memories, the dreams of many more like this...and I am weary because my fear and worry that I truly cannot know, it just pulls me down into a bog. It's tentacles wrap around me to pull me deeper while I thrash and struggle, and I am gasping - desperate for joy while sadness pulls down harder.

And I want Jesus. I want Jesus to take it all away. I want it to be only joy, only hope, only belief - a firm foundation that it. will. get. better! I want Jesus to sit with me and wipe away my tears and tell me the truth that will set me free. I want him to wipe away the gloom that keeps creeping in to steal what little peace I have.

But, I haven't wanted Jesus - not enough to let him enter my fear. Not enough to let it go. Not enough to hand my love, my life, my joy, my fear to him and let him truly come in and transform me. I have wanted to hold on to some semblance of me - for...safety? security? that I ended up barring the door and pulling up the bridges.

I sat in the pews Christmas Eve singing about Jesus' birth, enjoying my family, and reflecting on Christmases past. I choked up thinking about the people who used to be here, sharing their gifts with us, and the shadows that are left in our hearts.

At the second service, I sat in the pew, asking Jesus to come to me. A woman sang, 'O Holy Night,' and it was the most beautiful offering. At first, I teared up at the sheer beauty - but I didn't want to cry at Christmas Eve. It's Christmas! It's supposed to be JOY-FULL! [I think of Lucy: "Oh, Charlie Brown. Don't you know what Christmas is about? It's Santa Claus and ho-ho-ho and presents to pretty girls..."] Then came this part:

The King of kings lay in a holy manger,

in all our trials born to be our friend [cue the heart softening];

He knows our needs, our weakness is no stranger [cue heart breaking]:

Behold your king, before him lowly bend,
Behold your king! 

My king ... born to be my friend in all my trials ... He knows my needs; my weakness - my fear, my worries - they are no stranger to him. Gaze upon your king...and recognize....

Jesus, who thought equality with God was not something to be grasped, made himself like one of us. Being found in human flesh, he humbled himself and submitted himself to death - even, death on the cross.

Attending my third church service in less than 24 hours yesterday morning, I found myself grateful for the Mass. The mingling of the birth with the death. It wasn't simply for Christmas that Jesus came. And, the "new and glorious morn" that dawned with his birth seemed extinguished by his death 33 years later. Christmas was the beginning of a new chapter, but Easter was the true glory. EASTER was the triumph that Christmas heralded...and it took thirty-three years (and a lot of suffering) to burst forth.


....

Sometimes, we have to wait for the dawn to burst forth to glorious day.  Sometimes, it seems like all is lost; that hope has been vanity. Sometimes, it seems like the kingdom is bursting forth at the seems, that the all is here right now - that all things have aligned, and all is right with all things everywhere.

I think, Jesus would say that is not "it." That is not it.

I am it.

I am the Light of the World.

I am the Bread of Life.

I am the Wine of the New Covenant.

I am the Way. I am the Truth. I am the Life.

I am the Peace. I am the Healing Balm.

I am.

Jesus.