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What's a girl to do when she's only 5 posts away from her 100th posting?! Hmm, make that only 4 posts, after this little itty bitty cheater posting..ha ha
So tell me juicy friends...what's a girl to do when she reaches the 100th!?
(Wondering, do they have special bands that play trumpets and bang drums on the 100th post? Do all the posts have to be good ones to count?)
Sitting on the couch...practicing my talent for actually being a "Couch Potato" I saw a commercial that caught me off-guard. The pretty brunette woman on the screen announced, in a rather pleasant voice,
"I am no longer defined by how many dishes I wash."
And then the screen flashed to some type of disposable plates that will entirely change my life and the lives of millions of women around the globe. (oh, if only, right?!)
But, believe it or not, this silly commercial sped through my mind like a downhill skier preparing for a long jump. And I started to obsess about the sentence she had spoken. Did she actually THINK that the number of dishes she washed, would in some way define her? And what is it that I think defines me?
In the past weeks, I've been devouring an amazing Bible study by Beth Moore called, "Breaking Free". I'll hastily tell you, I have loved every minute of it. Breaking free from all the stuff that bogs me down in this life, is all out refreshing! And somewhere last week, I read a particularly moving paragraph that went like this.
"You (insert your name here) are not defined by anything that happened to you or anything you have done. You are defined by who you are in Christ. You are God's beloved child."
And I balled like a little kid, for the longest time, after reading that
oh-so-profoundly-simple truth. Not to worry, these were not tears of pain. I flooded my little hands with tears of pure relief and absolute gratitude!
You see, I have a past. Perhaps like you. Perhaps more or less unflattering than yours. But frankly, there are moments in my life that I am positive would shame anyone if they had lived them. I have done things...said things, yelled things, hit things, thrown things and accomplished acts of ick that I am too embarrassed to share here.
Yet. (Oh thank GOD for the good news) I am NOT defined by ANY of these things. Only God gets to say, who I am.
If you think that your past deeds or someone else's deeds against you are the only way we might try to define who you are...then think about this.
You've perhaps noticed people, attempting to define themselves by the clothes worn, the
houses lived in and the furniture stockpiled inside of it? Cars become statements of a persons wealth and status. Marriages and children become a part of the resumes to success. Jobs become a part of a long ladder that someone will use to define you.
The people you hang with become tokens of style and culture. Even the church you attend can be a defining point to some. And the business of making a statement about who you are, goes on and on.
It's all bunk. Rubbish. (to quote the english)
I am blemished. I am tarnished. I am a complete loser on my own. I can spend hours in front of a mirror trying to look perfect (eh-hm, I admit it...I do attempt that quite often without success). I can act the part of a good wife, an amazing mother, a solid friend that you can always count on to give, do and be the right things. And I can fall into the categories above with house...cars and family with the hope that it will tell me or someone else who I am. But it won't.
And as I sit here at my desk, I realize too, that there are many who would
like to define me. Some have tried to tell me who I am, who I need to
be, what I should do and what I've done wrong. I have labels that
people have tried to apply to me. And I have history that would like
to attach itself to my back, bogging me down for the rest of my life.
But none of it is the definition of who I am.
I am not defined by what I have, where I live, who I am with, or anyone's ideas about who I am. I am not even defined by who I think I am. I am simply defined by one God, who loves me enough to say..."Jenn, you told me all that junk in your past. I forgave you. And honey, (he is affectionate), I can't even remember your past anymore." Oh how I love God! And I LOVE His memory loss grace and mercy, even more!
Knowing God means that while He won't erase the consequences of my past...He will forgive it all. And who I am in HIM today, is the only definition that matters.
In the end, perhaps the pretty brunette woman in the commercial was right. Clearly, she is NOT defined by how many dishes she washed.
(Grateful...oh so grateful)
P.S. By the way, lest you think I am anti-pretty- things...Im not. I don't think that there is anything wrong with having things or attempting to be beautiful...etc. (I like all that stuff too) It just doesn't define a person.
Thank God that Mr. G overlooks my obsession understands that Michael Buble has about as juicy as any person could be! This Diva just LOVES his music. But honey, nothing compares to seeing this little nugget of personality in concert. (And Mr. G has taken me TWICE! We sat as close as 8th row! Oh how I LOVE Mr. G!)
Simply adorable. And hysterically funny! What's not to love?
(Just a bit of joy for the day!)
Steven Curtis Chapman, an amazing christian musical artist, father, husband and inspiration suffered a loss last night. His five year old daughter, Maria, was tragically taken to heaven in a terrible accident in their driveway. To place judgement on the young man would be completely mistaken. It was an accident. And he, along with the entire family, needs support, prayer and love in a big way. My heart is crushed for these precious people.
To read more about this unimaginable circumstance, click here.
Pray that God will comfort them entirely. And that only AMAZING will come from this tragedy. Our Father will have answers when we get to heaven...but until then let the family just receive your mercy God!
This is a video from his latest album, and the song is called "Cinderella". He wrote this song about his daughters...Maria was part of this story, as you will see after the video. (Your little ones, gifts of time and from God...hold your babies close and take the time to build the memories)
(feeling tremendous sadness for this family)
Do you Twitter?! Are you a part of this craze?
I am new to this Twittering business. But I just don't think I understand how to use it to its full potential (this Diva has to be in the KNOW).
So help me out here babycakes! Send this juicy dreamer, some serious comment love and tell me about your Twitting...or lack there of. Give me the scoop and introduce me to your world! And if you're NOT a Twitter...is there a reason why?
(feeling sadly under educated about Twitter)
Surfing through the internet one day, I stumbled right into her...(grace is not my middle name). She hosts a bright pink polka dotted blog that instantly stole my reader heart. The blog is run by a darling southern girl (well... she sounds southern) named Amy Beth. 
Every single day, she cracks me up and stirs up the juicy girl in me. I sip my coffee and read about her daily tromps through this life and lately I've been swept right into her oh so creative saga videos... that somehow seem to make the old movie "The Birds" seem sensible and completely well-founded!
Being the juicy girl that I am, I absolutely love it when a friend shares a snappy fun-fest with me, so I want to share the wealth. I'd like to introduce you to Ms. Amy Beth! [drum roll, rounds of applause and screaming not required here but most enjoyable for any diva...even if you're alone at your desk..clap on baby, clap on...]
Click on the webpage above and meet the juicy Ms. Amy Beth!
And bring your wellies...(AB, that's a rainboot..yes?)
(feeling happy to share the sparkling goodness!)
How do you know God hears you? Try asking for cupcakes.
It was a lovely Wednesday afternoon and I was obsessing about cupcakes. Oh come now, I was completely in line with most up-to-date-PMS guidelines. No big news flash. For some reason, it didn't matter what I did, I simply couldn't help myself. I wanted cupcakes. I needed them. I must have them!
I trudged down the hallway of my home and contemplated cupcakes. When I blew out my hair, I pictured the perfect pink chiffon cupcakes. I folded towels and pondered french vanilla cupcakes with fluffy buttercream frosting. As I tossed a healthy green salad, I nearly dropped the bowl because I was so busy dreaming of dense, gooey... smothered in rich fudge cupcakes. Yes, babycakes, my obsession was full blown!
It didn't help much that I had just sent my dear friend Joelle, an order of scrumptious cupcakes from "Bangerang Bake Shop" for her birthday.
For at least a week prior, I was absolutely drooling over the photos! (Review of cupcakes to come, keep an eye out!) And unfortunately, the fact that she lives nearly 2,000 miles away from me, meant that there wasn't a chance I'd be eating those cupcakes. Not a chance. (Can you feel my pain here?)
"So why didn't you just make cupcakes!?" I hear you asking.
Oh honey, I did look up recipes for cupcakes...but little Jack was fussy, needy, grumpy and I truly had no time to bake, so the obsession had no choice but to linger and intensify. Finally, I did what a Diva with a completely fabulous Father in Heaven would do. I asked God for cupcakes! Yes indeed!
I told Him about my problem...aka, lack of cupcakes...and I asked Him if He could please send me some. This isn't the first time I've asked him for something crazy like this...read more HERE. And I just knew if there was a chance that I'd get cupcakes, it would be coming from that direction, because I wasn't telling a soul about my clearly out of control caloric compulsion.
The very next morning I got a call from my Diva friend, Tina. "Hey Jenn, can I come by and drop something off before you leave this weekend?" "Sure!" I replied. And I didn't ask any other questions because, frankly, Tina is the kind of friend who is forever dropping off...the most thoughtful goodies at just the right time in a person's life. She's just that way! A Diva who LOVES to give to others.
When my doorbell rang, I was deep in the throws of pile upon pile of
laundry and packing suitcases. And I had almost forgotten, but not quite, my request for cupcakes. As I sprung the front door wide open...there she stood, with one stunning chocolate cake in hand!
Now Divas, I stood there for a moment just staring and then...as if hit in the back of the head by God's own hand, I 
stuttered..."OHHHH my word T, I totally asked God for cupcakes yesterday and look what you just brought me!!" Let's not get caught up in the fact that it was a large cake here...this is the equivalent of no less than 2 dozen cupcakes...and its presence in my house was a gigantic surprise! "Tina! I can't believe you brought me a cake!" And from there, it was girl chatter. You know the kind. Fast, furious and filled with much needed laughter.
Choosing to be succulent, I stopped working immediately and together, we made a memory moment! We took out the china plates and the silverware...the special "For Company" napkins...we made a big pot of rich
black coffee and took down the matching china coffee cups from the cabinet. Very deliberately, lest you should wonder, we sliced two very large pieces of the chocolate cake with rich fudge and fresh strawberries layered in the heart of each piece. And there two divas sat, laughing, eating cake and laughing some more!
You should know, this sparkely girl also brought me gifts...seriously! As if the mere idea of a big chocolate cake wasn't enough?! Oh that Tina! She had found three fabulously artsy hat boxes (that I LOVED instantly)! Inside 
each Ms. T had tucked scrumptious goodies that any PMSing or non-PMSing Diva would love. There were note pads, a journal, perfume and coffee magnets, bath salts and lip balms and the biggest Chocolate bar a girl could ask to receive! And to top it off...yes...I know how can you top all this? Tina handed over her latest Diva find.
The "Diva Cooking" cookbook! Oh honey...you've GOT to see this treasure trove. Its like candy for the eyeballs. Really! Colorful pages, and recipes that make you feel the need to explore your culinary capabilities. Yes indeed. Who knew that Divas had a cookbook?
And there are two in the series! Eh hm, need a good birthday gift idea for that Diva friend? Well there ya go babycakes...there ya go!
Tina and I had such fun looking through the cookbook, that we've decided to have a "Diva Cooking" meal together...we will each pick two recipes and cook for each other with kids and hunky hubbies in tow...its like co-op eating for families. Or just indulging as Diva's, take your pick!
So there you have it. One story about a BIG answer to a little girls strange prayer request for cupcakes! Can I just say, I love that God knew how much I really wanted cake...and that He knew just the person, my friend Tina, who would be willing to bake it and bring it!
God does care about even those silly things we can obsess about at times. Simply put, He totally cares. Ask Him. Go ahead. I dare you to ask Him for something that will brighten your day. And Tina...your life totally glorifies Him. When I grow up...I wanna be just like you! I just love ya sista.
(feeling fully grateful!)
We were standing a few feet from the front door, my husband and I, when Jack toddled past us with a set of keys in hand. His pudgy little fingers grasped onto one in particular and as he arrived at the door, he reached with all of his might upward with the key. As if it was old hat, he pushed the key right into the doorknob in the exact spot where a key would go. He's only 13 months.
Stunned, we stood there and laughed. But in a rather uncomfortable way. Questions began to tumble out, like, "Did you show him that?" and "Where exactly did he learn this?" And there were no answers for either of us. We simply have NO IDEA how he learned that keys go into doors. We rarely even use the front door to enter the house. So where did he learn this technique?
At my women's Bible Study later that evening, we talked about legacies that we are a part of...lives, behaviors and things of that nature that have been passed down from generations behind us. And that led to the things we are handing down to our children. Suddenly I wanted to burst on the inside!
My Jack, a baby of only 13 months, has picked up on how to put a key into a doorknob...without the official training of my husband or myself. He must have learned this simply by watching us. If he already knows the details of such a small and insignificant task and understands it fully...then what else have I already given to him simply through example? Will he snap at others the way I do, because he is modeling mommy? Will he be a control freak, because I am? Will he talk under his breath as I do when I am angry about something? Will he be late to EVERYTHING, the way mommy is?
I am aware that there are both good and bad that he will watch from me. But my concerns rest soley on the legacy I am leaving my children. And my overwhelming thought is, how do I model the things he truly needs to learn, instead of the things I hope he never learns.
(feeling thoughtful and humbled)
She sat there, next to us at the oilcloth covered table, alone. I studied her carefully. By appearance, she almost blended into the Diner's decor. Her hair was peppered with grey and black strands that lay flatly, in the shape of a closely cropped bob. She wore tiny diamond stud earrings and a crisply ironed pastel shirt, over the top of a grey t-shirt, that read "Mystic, Connecticut". Her eyebrows were dark and overgrown a bit and she looked as though make-up was of little interest to her. I figured that she must be in well into her 60's and wondered if maybe she was waiting on someone to join her. A husband, a friend, a daughter or son? But after a few minutes, I could see that she was very much alone and there would be no one coming.
My table was identical to hers in its design, but very different in that it was filled by my husband, our one year old son, and myself. The sounds of his baby babble, more than filled the air, in short vibrant bursts that I was completely unable to control. Embarrassed by the contrast of his voice and the quietness of the Diner, I repeatedly look up at the woman to see if perhaps the noise was irritating her. It wasn't. A few times she actually shot a brief and shy smile in the direction of the baby. But for the most part, she simply looked uncomfortable by her own solitude.
I watched as she stared off into the distance. At times, she shifted in her seat, and refocused on the coffee
cup that rested between her hands. At other times, she seemed to be reading the black and white advertisements that were printed on the paper placemat in front of her. In an apparent effort to avoid the lack of conversation available to her, she pulled open her purse and seemed to dig through it for nothing in particular. When the waitress arrived at her table carrying her order, the woman rapidly tossed the contents back, deep into the purse. She seemed relieved by the sudden distraction.
