Peace

This is the devotion that I wrote for our church's advent season.  It was sent out today.  As I sit here drinking my coffee and listening to Christmas music, surrounded by my family, my excited kids, footballs whizzing across the room, a sea of wrapping paper and boxes, doll clothes and little tiny doll furniture, uncle Si's voice coming from a tiny stuffed bearded man, and a bike that would only be allowed in the house on this day, I can only imagine how exciting the first Christmas must have been.  I have more than I deserve.  

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

PEACE____________________________________________________________________________

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace.  In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world."

John 16:33 (NIV)

We have a manger scene on a low table in our den.  It's the breakable kind, ceramic and all, but I bought it to be played with because there is something really awesome about playing with breakables when you're a kid.  I also think that if anything should be revered as fragile, yet tangible, it has to be the scene where Jesus came to us as a human.  It sounds like plates falling from the sky when I'm in the kitchen and hear the clinging sound of ceramic knocking together but then I realize it's just Kate rearranging her wise men and shepherds and it makes me smile.  Baby Jesus has only one arm now, but the one ceramic nub is a symbol of how loved that tiny baby is.  The characters are frequently placed in different positions - sometimes they are all crammed in the manger so they don't get wet if it rains, sometimes they are on top of a "mountain" so they can see better.  Yesterday morning when I woke up I noticed that the shepherds and wise men were in a perfectly straight line and Mary and Joseph were on each side of Jesus and the baby was in the middle kicking and waving his one arm.  I imagine that is what it had to be like.  Time stopped for a moment and everyone stared in awe of a tiny baby, innocent and holy, and a complete miracle.  After all, that's exactly what I did when the doctor handed each of my children to me.  But that Baby is extra special - He is a symbol of peace in the midst of darkness, human flesh that connects us to God, and where the wonder of the Christmas season all began.  No matter how many times I hear that story, it never gets old and it never loses its magic.

I have to think of Mary when I think of the story of the birth of Jesus.  As a mother, she makes us all look bad.  How trusting and faithful she had to be.  Certainly there had to be times when she wasn't ok with it all.  She had to feel alone sometimes.  She had to wonder if she was ever going to get off that donkey and have that baby.  But, God knew exactly where she needed to be and when to make the birth of Jesus have such a human connection where the story would never grow old and still be a miracle.  And, I've learned the hard way that's how God works. I've felt alone, helpless, and completely out of control. My faith is not nearly as good as Mary's.  I have asked why and when and how so many times, and there have been countless moments when God has had to remind me that He is in control.  And, still He gives me peace.

Through, a tiny, helpless baby, He overcame the world.  During this Christmas season, let us be mindful of the sanctity and fragility of life and of the peace that Jesus brings us, sometimes in the midst of the darkest hours.  

Dear Lord,

Help us to remember how sacred and fragile the gift of life is this Christmas season.  Thank you for the peace that you have brought to us through the birth of your only Son.

                                                                                     Amen.

Kimberly Jessop

Emmanuel Class 

  

Angels we have heard...

On Sunday I watched our Martha Kate and a group of other sweet little small people sing give all they have in our church's carol festival.  Now, I love Christmas music.  I start playing it as soon as possible.  I can't wait for the local radio station to switch over at Thanksgiving and now that I've figured out how to use this portable blue tooth speaker thingy, I carry it from room to room spreading my holiday cheer.  Drives Stephen nuts.  I admit I can't really sing but it doesn't stop me from belting GLO-UH-UH-UH-UH-RIA as loud as I can.

I think what I love even more is little children singing Christmas music.  There is something so sweet and innocent about their voices.  They sing as only children do.  Many of the words were in Latin but Kate is convinced it's Spanish.  She has no idea what the words are - I had to look them up myself to find out their meaning.  What I realized is so different with kids and adults is that I spent time actually looking up the meaning of the words because I couldn't get past not knowing and all of those little kids just sang it as if it were Jingle Bells.  And, the truth is, they are much smarter than me.  I am convinced that they didn't need to know because they actually felt the meaning.
I watched their faces as the first horns of the orchestra blew.  Eyes widened and heads turned.  They watched the director wave his arms emphatically, the flute, the harp, the drums.  Clearly a new experience for some. Then they sang.  About the birth of the baby that would save the world.  In Latin.  Regardless of the words, the meaning was clear - the heavens and earth rejoiced over the birth of Jesus.
Now, I had a direct view of my little angel on the stage in her tuxedo shirt.  She was on the front and the end, of course.  We had some tears before the program in regards to a shirt and bow tie that looked like a boy and was choking her, and with the busy weekend, I was kind of unsure how this was going to go.  But, she sang almost every word - or her interpretation of the words. And in between singing, she stared at the harpist, and waved her arms to help the director conduct, straightened her bow tie, and mouthed "Sofia?" to me in regards to the princess doll I promised if she would wear the shirt.
And, then there was the moment that I looked up to see her surrounded by properly trained musicians in tuxes sticking out her tongue.  "NO! NO! NO!" I mouthed and did a little cut-throat motion.  I looked down beside me to see her older brother sticking his tongue out at her.  He got a good leg pinch and an ugly look too.  "What?  I was trying to make her happy and smile." That made for a good lesson on the way home on how much influence he has on his sister and further emphasized that she won't be outdone by him in anyway even in the midst of such a formal event.  Gotta love some pew parenting.
Regardless, it was fun to watch, and the tongue incident - well, it only lasted a couple of seconds.  I should have probably been mad instead of kind of finding it funny.  At least they connect with each other in some way, at least he was watching his sister, and maybe only a few people in the front saw it. Who cares.  She still did great.  I asked her later what she liked most and she said that tall heart thing that you play like this, waving her fingers in front of her.  "And, mommy, those drums were giving me a heartbeat."  Bailey liked the big violin.  I think we might need to culture our children a little more.
I can only imagine what it must have sounded like when Jesus was born - or every day in heaven for that matter
The voices of the angels were heard and understood regardless of the language.  The earth was peaceful.  People smiled at each other in adoration just as the violinist smiled at her neighbor after his amazing solo performance.  I'm sure no one stuck out their tongue.  But, if they did, I'm sure the forgiveness that Jesus brings would have covered that too.  And, as for the princess Sofia doll and her little forest animals, she earned it.  It only cost me $7.29, so I'd say that the experience was definitely worth it.   

cancerversary

I'll admit to looking for any excuse to blow out some candles and avoid cooking dinner.  I celebrated my cancerversary with 3 candles on a gingerbread cake, pizza, a perfect prayer of thanksgiving by my sweet friend, and some kids who were caught between being confused by whose birthday it was and trying to figure out which candle to dip in the icing.

And, being alive.  Very alive.  

I have always been drawn to the Happy Birthday American Cancer Society Commercials, even if I didn't want to be.  They are very intimate - like they are singing only to you, actually made me stop to watch.  The movement was launched in 2010 as part of their "more birthdays" campaign.  I remember walking by the TV, hearing that familiar song and thinking, "yeah right." as my mother had celebrated her last birthday here on earth.  I felt betrayed.  Then, on December 10th, I was diagnosed.  I watched those commercials and thought, "if only."  I was spending almost every second that I wasn't eating or feeding my kids looking for clinical trials or reading statistics.  One night after reading such astounding numbers that meant my chance of even one birthday was pretty slim, I walk by the TV to hear, "Happy Birthday…" 

Straight to the gut.  Turned it off. 

But, for some reason, I thought of those commercials today.  I have a new appreciation for them.  And maybe, just maybe, Keith Urban was singing to me.  Well ok, maybe not, but since I make all this up as I go I may as well dream.  So, today I celebrated.  I woke up.  I went to work.  I sang Christmas carols at the nursing home with my little daisy scout.  I was educated on foreign cars by my son.  I ate cake.  I blew out candles.  3 candles.  3 years.  

And, I turned on you tube and let good ole Keith sing to me.  Because it's my cancer birthday, and I'm alive, and he's hot.  

Here's to more cancervesarys. Or cancer birthdays.  Or birthdays.  Or just days in general.  They are all as good as we make them.  Psalm 116: 5-9

KEITH URBAN

more candles

From my caring bridge site: 

On Tuesday I will celebrate 3 years of a beautiful life that was not promised, not expected, and certainly not in my favor.  And, I will celebrate it in remission.  Did I think I would be here? No.  Did I want to be here?  With all of my heart and soul.  

Today our pressure cooker gets to remain cracked open so we can breathe.  We stared at the screen as my doctor passed through every organ from my neck down and then we asked to read the report for good measure.  Nothing there.  He complimented me on my good looking spinal cord.  I thanked him - I’m quite proud of that considering all the trauma my poor cord and I have been through.  He called my report boring.  I would beg to differ.  My hematologist gave me a comparison chart of my blood counts that he has been watching over the last 18 months.  I was a little in shock to see it in print.  Basically, when I was diagnosed with leukemia last May, 57% of the cells in my blood were leukemia cells, which means that more than half of what was circulating in my body was filled with cancer cells.  Lovely.  I’m going to say that sometimes it’s best not to know or understand how sick you are.  It also may be best to be so stubborn.  I mean, who walks around like that?  I’ll get the final results of my blood test later this week but as of August, those numbers were almost undetectable.  Amazing. 

So, here I sit.  Still trying to comprehend it all.  I’m in a place where I wasn’t supposed to be.  But, it looks like I was.  Lighting one more cancer birthday candle.  

I was recently asked to name a pivotal moment in my life.  Easy I thought, of course it was the day I was diagnosed with cancer.  But, then I started thinking.  It was also the day I was born, the day I knew I would marry my husband, the day I married my husband, the day my son was born, the day my daughter was born, the day my mom was diagnosed with cancer, the day she died, the day I survived surgery, the day I could run, and every time I go back to that room to look at that screen to see what is or isn’t there.  My life pivots constantly.  That’s the way it is.   

We live a life that is pretty much on the edge but I have to say that we live it well.  

We love deeply around here.  We strive to do what will be important in 5 years and I’ve tried to let go of worrying about what I can’t change.  I do what I can to make memories for my kids that will last.  They can’t see the devastation on our faces from the Christmas pictures the year I was diagnosed or the pain I can feel when I look at pictures from the Christmas before my surgery.  They don’t see the relief we felt last Christmas. They only see their mommy and daddy, new toys, and memories of Christmas morning gingerbread man pancakes.  They get to be kids.  For this, I am grateful.  

Our life is a real life full of oops - like our Christmas cards that arrived today so beautifully printed with a but with a grammatical error.  At one point in my life, I wouldn’t have sent them and even though it drives me a little crazy, I think they are a great representation of us - real, imperfect, and full of life - the picture’s pretty good, so I really don’t have room to complain.  After all, I’m not posting my work on Pinterest or anything.  If I was perfect, our little elves wouldn’t have arrived dressed so cutely but confused in gender.  Bailey was a little weirded out that his elf, Fred, was wearing the tutu.  Oops.  Silly elf. 

So, Merry Christmas from the Jessops.  We’ve already gotten our gift.  Our Christmas pictures will once again be filled with joy - and probably one or two kids hitting each other before it’s all said and done.  We pray that God continues continues to protect us and use our imperfections as only He can.   

Kimberly

free fuel

I just walked in the door.   From my trip to Vandy for my latest photo shoot of my insides.  And, in about 9 hours, I'll turn around and do the trip again to see what's behind door number one.  It would have been much easier to spend the night but I'd miss packing lunches and kissing goodbye for school and two small people's days would be much more disrupted.  But, that's tomorrow.
Today, I experienced something that will stick with me.  I was about and hour from home but starving - debating on the bowl of cereal at home or stopping for food.  I chose the food.  Glad I did.  I got up to the window to pay and the girl said, "the person in front of you already paid for yours."  Huh?  She grinned and said, "yes ma'am, it's true."  I'll admit that I looked around for someway to thank someone and then started spinning my mind on how I could find out who it was to thank them.  I started wondering if they thought I was someone else, or someone they knew.  I started to ask the girl if she knew them.  But, I stopped (after I felt God thump me in the head) and just decided to be thankful.  It was just that - a random act.  Whoever it was wanted nothing in return and had no expectations.  Just joy because they did something nice.  I'm certain they had no idea that I was a mama who had spent all day in a cancer clinic and kind of thought about skipping the chicken to get home to her babies faster.  God knew who I was.
He also put that Keurig in the outpatient imaging center I ended up in today - not stale hospital coffee.  That was my fuel to get me to the chicken.  And the chicken that was paid for by a complete stranger was my fuel to get me home.  And what's at home is what fuels me the most.  So, today I learned that paying it forward can really pay you back, kindness has a real ripple affect, and there are still good people in this world
Not too bad.
KJ

thanks·giv·ing

thanks·giv·ing

 [thangks-giv-ing] 

noun

1.

the act of giving thanks; grateful acknowledgment of benefits or favors, especially to God.

2.

an expression of thanks, especially to God.

3.

a public celebration in acknowledgment of divine favor or kindness.

4.

a day set apart for giving thanks to God.

   
Every day.  That's really what it should be.  I am thankful everyday that I wake up on this earth.  I appreciate what and who I have more than I ever have.  I'll admit that maybe Thanksgiving isn't really my favorite holiday.  I love getting the day off and love getting to spend time with my family.  Oh, and I love dressing.  I could really take or leave the rest of it.  Just a big ole bowl of dressing and my family and I'm good.

My mama loved it, though.  She actually enjoyed cooking, and boy, was she good at it.  Most Thanksgivings were spent with her side of the family - much further away which usually meant a road trip and that was pretty exciting, for at least the first hour of the trip until my brother started putting his legs over the imaginary line on my side of the car.  My grandmother literally lived in the middle of nowhere, with no cable.  I remember Daddy driving down to the nearest town to rent us a VCR and a movie for the night.  I'm not sure we even had a VCR at home at that point so it was a pretty big deal and he must have been pretty hard up for entertainment.  I was sure that must have cost a fortune because we weren't really into lavish experiences like this.  And, then there was the year when Mom decided we would have hens with our dressing. She had an old one in the freezer that she decided to cook for the dog, but poor Daddy ended up with the old freezer burned hen on his plate instead.  It bore strong resemblance to the turkey on Chistmas Vacation.  He had requested the hens but had a real puzzled look on his face when he stuck his fork in it and said, "I'm not sure mine's any good." Mama quickly jerked it off of his plate and said, "Oh gosh that was for the dog!" But, the dressing was always good, and so was the love.  No matter where we were or what else was there.  Everyone was welcomed home and she had no greater joy than to watch people eat her food.

And, we've carried on tradition of making a road trip with our own kids to eat Thanksgiving dinner with their grandparents.  It will be a feast of turkey and casseroles and of course, dressing.  Their favorite thing will be the cranberry sauce straight from the can but regardless of how much food or dessert there is, there will be plenty of love.  And plenty of reasons to be thankful.

I didn't really get into posting every day in November for what I am thankful for because that would require me to commit in the first place and I'm much more into eliminating things from my daily to-do list than adding.  I do like the idea of making a list because it's a very visual reminder. It makes you realize how quickly you can fill that list or if you're slow at it, then you probably need to make one every day or several times a day. I gave it a shot, all at once in no particular order:

• cancer research
• God's grace
• that my husband still puts up with me and brings me my keys 30 minutes away after the 3rd time in 4 months and doesn't even yell
• Bailey and Martha Kate Jessop
• perspective
• heated seats
• technology that allows instant communication and the ability to allow doctors to see into the core of your being
• that even if my son may be a little embarrassed to hug me in front of his friends, he still crawls in my lap every night
• a daughter that wants to be near me, like me,  help me, and mimic my every move
• smartwool socks, Ugg boots, and goose down
• forgiveness
• the ability to walk, and even run if I choose
• friends - both near and far and worth the drive
• that people I've never met or seen in a long time tell me they have prayed for me and the joy that I get when people realize that their prayers are very much heard
• vacation
• that my husband cooks on Sundays
• Selma - when she cleans my house it's the closest thing to a fairy I can think of
• being loved
• loving back
• Target
• that my husband truly enjoys playing guitar for kids on Sunday morning
• vacuum cleaners
• coffee
• doctors that genuinely care
• family 
• that winter is only a few months out of the year
• prayer
• that he chased me and I married him
• drugs that work
• dressing

On Thanksgiving this year, I will spend my morning drinking coffee and perusing the ads for the sales on Friday - the only day or reason I read the paper.  I will watch the annual Thanksgiving Day parade on TV.  I will eat my fill of dressing surrounded by people who I love and who love me.  I will celebrate the with the fans of the two biggest rivals in the SEC as we all freeze our tails off to find out who gets to hold on to a big gold egg this year.  But, most of all, I will give thanks.  I have way more than I deserve.  

Happy Thanksgiving!
Kimberly