Gindi's

As I mentioned last month, I am hosting a guest writer once a month through the summer here at Gindi’s.  God connected me to Holley Gerth’s God-sized Dream Team in 2013.  Through this group, I have met fellow dreaming writers, several of whom I now consider friends.  Last month, you met Kristin and heard her adoption story.  Today I introduce you to Alecia who became a parent young but has soaked up a lot of wisdom in the years since and shares some here: 

When I became a parent at the age of 21, I had no idea what I was doing.  For the first couple of years everything was trial and error, fall and get back up again.  But I’ve always strived in my parenting to remember that they are kids and will make mistakes.  I also want them to personally know  Jesus.  I had spent my entire life going to church on Sundays, and believing He existed, but not knowing Him personally.  For my kids, I want it to be different.

The more I grow and evolve in my faith, the more I realize that I am the only Jesus example my kids will see for a long time.  Each time I show compassion when they make a mistake, or speak calmly instead of yelling, or show love when I want to strangle their little necks, they will see Jesus the most.  I desperately want to be a mom that they can count on when they are confused and troubled with life - a mom that thinks and prays before reacting or making decisions.

A great example of a grace moment is summer vacation. (Which is right around the corner.) The days run together, the calendar and routine is thrown out the window, and the first question out of each of their mouths when they wake up each morning is “What are we doing today, Mom?” and it never ends! These are the days I get to stretch my grace muscle the most.  They wake up fighting and go to bed fighting and in between want to be entertained.  I can either spend my days yelling and playing referee or make a decision to make the most of each day regardless of what we end up doing or what their attitudes happen to be.  When I remember that I set the tone, (and that I’m the boss) the day is much more enjoyable and we end up making fun memories and the urge to want to sell them on eBay is resisted another day. (I’m kidding, mostly.)  

On my own, I can be ugly and prideful and impatient and mean.  But because my life has been changed from the inside out, I can show the two most important people in my life faith, peace, love, kindness, self-control, joy, and hope; all the things that I am not on my own.  There are days the old me rears her ugly head, but then I catch a gentle whisper in my soul that tells me “not this way, remember what I have taught you.”  I hope when they open their Bibles and read the accounts of Jesus and how he lived and loved, that they will think of the way their Mama, lived and loved them and others.  That while she may not be perfect, she did her best to show grace when it was least deserved.

I spend many days in walking conversations with God, because I so desperately need His wisdom and discernment in raising my children.  So, the most important question I can ask myself each day is, “Do they see Jesus in me right now?”  If the answers is no, then I know what I should do.  With Him I am the mom I want to be, can be, and should be.

Alecia blogs over at There’s Something Different at www.aleciasimersky.com. She is a Southerner by birth (and grace) and gypsy by marriage (she’s moved 7 times in the last 12 years).  She writes to encourage Christians to live differently because she knows that once you’ve been changed by Christ you are different.  She claims “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength,” Phil 4:13, daily. You can connect with her on Twitter @AleciaSimersky and  http://www.facebook.com/ Theresomethingdifferent 

{This post was written before the Oklahoma tornadoes. As one with family there, my heart is broken over the devastation. Please join me in praying for those impacted.}

Have you ever gone bungee jumping?  Sky-diving? Zip-lining? Extreme roller coaster riding?  I done them all but the sky diving (which I hope to do one day).  I love the thrill.  When I bungee jumped (in a very controlled setting), the rope slowly cranked up and you could hear it churning as slowly I rose higher and higher and then, momentarily suspended in mid air in silence, whoosh……drop.  Stomach in throat.  And then exhilaration. 

On Tuesdays, I link up with Holley Gerth’s God-sized Dream Team and we write about our dreams.  Today’s topic was, “What part of your dream feels the riskiest?” 

I read that question and immediately pictured me strung up in all that bungee gear awaiting the drop.  Momentarily doubting my risk-based analysis. 

 Merriam-Webster defines risk as, “1: possibility of loss or injury ; peril. 2: someone or something that creates or suggests a hazard.”  Loss.  Injury. Peril. Hazard.  Those words are enough to send shivers up your spine.  But do you know another definition of risk listed, there at the bottom?  “To venture upon; take the chance of.”

I love that one.  I know that one.  It’s my God-sized dream.  It’s not about loss.  Or peril.  It’s the opportunity to venture upon something God-sized and the gift to take a chance on this whole God-sized package. 

Sometimes it still feels perilous though.   It feels as though you’re up there on that crane strapped to a bungee cord that you are certain will tear.  You can almost hear the rope stretching beyond what it can hold.  You keep waiting for it to give way and then you’ll plummet to the ground and lay there shattered and broken.  You think the dream can’ t be worth this.  All this worrying and anxiety.  All this…RISK. 

I don’t know what feels the riskiest to me in this God-sized dream journey to write for and speak to working women who are seeking something more.  Women who want to know God but aren’t sure what that means.  Women that want to have faith but are trying to figure out how that works in the hulabaloo of life.  Those are the people I want to sit with and have coffee and share about the foundation that can anchor them in the storm.  I don’t know if this dream will result in me sitting in a coffee shop with 5 faith-seeking women or standing on a stage sharing with 5,000.  No. Idea.  I’ve stopped trying to guess what the picture is 5 weeks from now, much less 5 years. 

Regardless of the who or the how or the where of the community than I get to write for or speak with, it all feels the same risky.  The risk that my struggles won’t resonate.  The risk that I’ve got it wrong.  The risk that it’s already been done and I’m just a poor imitation.  The risk that I will mess it up.  Oh that last one, that risk scares the dickens out of me.  I’ve seen big spectacular falls. God-sized dreams that were successfully derailed by the one who tries to derail God-sized dreamers.  And it wasn’t just the dreamer that fell splat from that bungee cord.  The dreamer took down a bunch of people right along on that fall.  And the pavement was bloodied with the stains of the fallen. 

That is the biggest scariest risk of them all.  The fall.  The mess up.  The brokeness. 

You know what I heard whispered into that fear?  It’s alright.  You are already broken.  You are already fallen.  You are already messed up.  That is precisely why I called you to this dream.  To show what happens after the fall. 

Oh.  See there?  The dream.  That’s the adventure.  That’s the chance.  Becoming vulnerable enough to reveal my cracks and brokeness and then letting the light of my faithful God shine through them. What does Isaiah call it… “A display of His splendor.”  The broken jar is more lovely than the unbroken one because of the light that shines through the cracks. 

And the risk?  Vulnerable is still risky.  But the risk feels more like adventure and less like loss when you’re standing on solid ground and not suspended mid-air.  This dream?  It’s after the fall has already happened.

For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.  But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.  II Corinthians 4