Door 2 - Buttons and Prayers

Door 2 - Buttons and Prayers

Growing up in a Christian family I was blessed with the gift of being surrounded by many who loved the Lord. A large majority of my extended family are believers, my parents are believers and I grew up in an atmosphere that put Jesus first, and even for those in my family who don't consider themselves Christians - they still loved excellently. My maternal Grandmother (Grandma Connie) is the Matriarch of our family at large. She's the middle child of her 9 siblings and has seemingly been the glue of the family since her adolescence. Spending time at grandma's it was normal for people to come and go. Great aunts and uncles, 2nd, 3rd and 4th cousins hanging out for meals and game time. There were no lines drawn in my family that depicted the distance that is generally between a 7yr old and her 4th cousin. That's just grandma's side... you go to my maternal grandfather, and his family was around the house all the time too. Same exact story,  great aunts and uncles, 2nd and 3rd cousins, all at grandmas. In fact, to this day, there are people I grew up around that I know are family... but I still couldn't tell you how we're related. We just are. I could probably pick almost any one of my over 100 family members on my mom's side and tell you a story that I would consider to be a door for me, tell you a lesson I learned from their existence in my life and memories.

However, there are two individuals that I loved deeply that many kids never got to know of their own.

My great grandmothers. There was "Grandma Purchase" and "Great-Great" and they helped make me, me.

The crazy thing is, I knew great-great until I was 10, and grandma Purchase until I was 13.

Great-great lived just around the corner, in the same apartment complex I grew up in. If momma and pops needed a break - they'd send me over to her house. Great-great was a beautiful woman. She was short, her silver hair up in perfectly coiffed bun, wearing conservative outfits and large glasses. She was a seamstress in her prime and she quilted. Once I saw a quilt where the squares had hearts inside them, and since I couldn't have that exact blanket, Great-great decided to make a pattern from scratch and make me a quilt where each heart was a piece of clothing from my mother, aunts or uncles childhood. Every time I would go to her house, she would teach me something about sewing. We stated with buttons. She'd thread a needle for me and give me a show box lid full of buttons of every shape, design, color and purpose and tell me to "make a necklace." I learned how to thread the buttons through, then she taught me how to sew them onto fabric, then she'd let me use the sewing machine, how to darn a sock, how to take in and let out clothes. She sparked an interest in me while I was young that has continued as what now seems like a rare gift to mend, tailor and create clothing and quilting when necessary. I remember how much I loved to make her laugh. Her laugh was the kind that couldn't be fake or cordial, if she was laughing she was full of joy and I loved being the reason she was laughing. I loved sitting in her small living room with a needle and thread, trying to make straight lines with my stitches for practice. I had a sweet relationship with her, one that taught me practicality, taught me to say what was on my mind all the time, and taught me the value of using something until you literally cannot anymore. When she passed away, I certainly tried to hide how broken I was. But I remember as soon as people started telling stories about her at the service, I ran out of the sanctuary and hid in the church basement crying. I lost a friend. Someone who taught me so much. Someone who loved me. And it was the first funeral I had been to for someone I had a deep love for. Great-great opened a door for me, with the Lord, that taught me about being a thankful, strong, practical woman.

Grandma Purchase was another woman entirely. Firm, intuitive, sometimes strict but so irresistibly loving. I used to visit with my grandma or mother while she lived in senior housing, I'd pull the emergency string in her bathroom and the firemen would show up. She had salt and pepper hair until the day she died, She was tall, and almost always wore a dress. Being put together and looking her best was always important to her, even after she lost her sight. As she aged, she lost her ability to see and she had fallen, so grandma and gramps moved in with her to take care of her. And when they needed to go out, we would babysit each other. We'd sit together and talk, listen to radio shows, I'd read out loud to her - usually the bible or a simple devotional - we'd just be together. And occasionally I'd try to sneak onto the computer to play solitaire while I was over, but she could hear the gentle hum of the electronics and would pull out my full name "Jacquelyn Joy, I am much more important than that stupid computer. Come talk with me." She taught me to value people over things, to be present in conversation and to care. But one of my favorite things about her, was when she would go to bed. Not because I was done dealing with her, but because that's when she would pray. Grandma Purchase prayed with a faith and determination and perseverance I've not yet seen again. I'd sit on the floor outside of her bedroom door, and she wouldn't know I was there... but I'd just listen to her pray. Going name by name through her children, their spouses, her 50 grandchildren, their spouses, and their children. Having a prayer and blessing for each of them. She prayed with an earnest heart that was incredible. When I remember her prayers, even just before meals, sometimes it brings me to tears. Every prayer meant something. Every word spoken was worth the time it took to speak. And prayer took priority over everything else in her day. She loved the Lord, and her gentle and quiet passion for Him opened the door for me to understand what a lifetime with Jesus really means and looks like! 

These two women taught me allot and my life was greatly improved upon just by the mere fact that I got to know them. Not just as a far off relative or a granny I saw once in a while. But as consistent and large parts of my life. It's been amazing to see how I still carry their voices in my head, their instructions in my heart and their memory with me always. People talk about having strong female role-models. In my life? I've hit the Jackpot. I've got a mother, aunts, grandmothers, and great grandmothers that poured their all at the feet of Jesus and took me with them to learn.

This door, is a Victorian wooden door, covered with little buttons and old tattered pages covered with prayers. It hangs right next to the Golden door, worth just as much. Holding it's own endless stories to tell.

Open Doors

Well, my dearest blog readers. It's time to end my hiatus and re-enter the online world with my small presence. I've been sitting on an idea my mother actually threw my way quite a while ago, and I think it's time I do it. Open doors. Documenting my life through the perspective of telling the stories behind the doors the Lord has opened to me. Don't you worry your little Christmas carol filled head, though. I'll be breaking it all up into pieces. Door by door how'd the Lord bring me to where I am? We'll find out. If you want to join me and read along, you're welcome to. It's just a way for me to highlight the faithfulness and goodness of the Lord through my life despite the pain and struggles. If you want to hop in and out or ignore the posts to follow all together, that's fine too. I just feel it's time to re-tell His glory over my life.




Door 1 - The Foundation Of Gold

My parents are so obviously my first door. The circumstances in my mother's life certainly didn't plan for my conception. Dropping out of college and having a baby as a single mother were certainly not on her to-do list. But she always wanted me. I was never unwanted by her. Her unexpected motherhood wasn't a chore nor did she look at it with disdain. My biological father didn't want me, but that wasn't much of a surprise with his track record. My mother is my rock. She could have given me up, she could have "gotten rid of the problem"... she had options. She chose me and the day that she did she built a door with the Lord. One that would wait for me to come through it the very moment I was born. A door from unplanned, unexpected, potential single-mother horror story to a life of being wanted, cared for and loved by a family that loved and supported my mother AND me.

Then, walks in my poppa. He is very literally my best friend. He went on an awkward date with a pregnant girl, her parents and His own parents... and he chose her. Fresh out of the Navy, new to the Lord, he chose a woman who came with "Baggage" and he chose to love it all. He's always been the only dad I needed or wanted. He is everything a girl could dream of and more. He taught me everything I know,  including the fact that we really know nothing. He was a stranger to parenthood. Still, again, he choose it. And when he chose it, he built a door with the Lord that would open for me to pass through the very moment I was born. A door from fatherlessness, confusion and lifelong searching for significance to a life of love, acceptance, understanding and worthiness.

I was born October 31st, 1991. I was a healthy weight and length, though my mom had been very ill throughout her pregnancy AND I was born early. She was supposed to be on bed rest, but she went to the mall to go gift shopping for my poppa, whose birthday was also the 31st. In the words of my parents "God chose the best gift to give." (I hope you can feel my adolescent eye roll here). Poppa and momma weren't married yet. But I was born and immediately cried my way through two of the biggest doors a girl could have. I had a poppa who adored me, a momma who desired me and parents who loved each other.

4 months later, on leap year day, my parents tied the knot. Apparently I was a fussy brat during the ceremony and though proud grandma was trying to comfort me, she gave me over to the only solution mid-ceremony. She brought me right to my poppa, I shut up, and they finished the ceremony with me in his arms. It was "unconventional" by traditional standards, but it was absolutely perfect for us. When my parents said "I Do" they solidified a door to a golden foundation for me. The rock on which my life would be built. They opened a door, that all three of us walked through. I had family, I had parents, I had married parents, and I had a firm and solid family life. I had a marriage to look up to, I had a teacher and mother who loved me fiercely and a best friend who taught me to be tough and let me explore every bit of who I was as a child.

God could have given me to any family. He could have put me in any living situation, and while many may sit and ask "Why not give me more?" I often sit and wonder at the fact that God gave me ALL of this. He gave me a family who chooses. A family that has taught me radical love, bravery, pushing through my limits, the importance of standards and morals, the importance of caring for the underdog, how to stand in the face of adversity, creativity, musicality, my love of history and literature, and most importantly they taught me how to build myself in truth of the Lord.

Of all the doors that could have been opened, the Lord opened a door to a  shimmering, golden foundation. Still in need of purification and in need of being perfected, just as any piece of gold. But solid gold, just for me, none the less. My story and the many stories of God's faithfulness to me would be all for naught if it weren't for the foundation of family I was given through two unsuspecting individuals who CHOSE ME.

My First door rests in a gallery in my mind. It's old, and worn down and it's been dipped in gold and it sits under a banner that reads "Chosen Child"

And this miracle of family is only the first of many doors to come.

The lie that changed it all...

Thanksgiving. Christmas. The ever so glamorous "Holiday Season!"

A time where community gathers together and celebrates, fellowships, experiences each other through a new lens of celebration.

I used to pride myself in the community I had. Through a large majority of my life I've felt surrounded, supported, never alone and the truth was, I had the best people in my life. Living in a bedroom with 3-4 other girls and sharing 3 showers with 15 girls, never having my own kitchen, knowing how to navigate the potentially testing waters of tight community living were all things I felt I knew well. And I did.

Now, I would say pretty much none of that is the case. Moving to Vegas 4 years ago was the unfortunate beginning of friendships I had held near and dear to my heart my whole life fizzling into casual likes on fb and once a year "happy birthday's"... if that. And in the process of those friendships seemingly passing away, I clung to the community I had around me at YWAM. Even though that community turned over every 6 months or so, there was at least always someone I could connect with and be close with. When I finished my time of ministry with them, most of those relationships became obsolete. Casual "Hellos" and "It's been forever since I've seen you!" but nothing more. My church here in Vegas started an AMAZING season of worshiping in a different  venue, and as much as I adored our new vision... we lost our family feeling. We aren't really behaving like a tribe anymore, we're just a gathering place. I've walked into a new work situation, and I LOVE IT. It's my dream job. And my co-workers are some of the biggest blessings in my life. They constantly remind me that it's safe to let them in, and I still constantly sit in fear that i'll believe them... and then I'll be wrong. Just like I have been so many times lately.

Now, I honestly don't believe that any of these people who were once close with me have changed all that much. I don't think anyone has iced me out or forgotten me. But everything has changed.

A lie changed everything. The simple words whispered in spine chilling tones "You're not worth the effort to know."

I mean, clearly... he had to be right. Why else would everything fall apart so easily? I feel as though I've tried. I've put my all into some relationships and they still flutter away.  As soon as I was taken out of someone's daily space, and communication became work, things dissipated. I was allot of work wasn't I? People are too busy, they don't have time, I'm too needy, I want too much from people. My work schedule throws a wrench in the system. Working over nighters, every other night. Not the normal job for anyone else my age who exists in my vicinity. That makes me hard to love too, right? ... all reasons to excuse myself from the table of God and lock myself in the basement.

Now, I'm not proud to say, I've begun isolating myself. Spending almost all of my free time in a bunk bed, in an empty dorm room, living back at the YWAM base, feeling out of place and unimportant to anyone. I spend my time trying to fill the silence by reading books out loud, watching netflix and hulu, sleeping unhealthy amounts and pretending like it doesn't bother me. I'm living the dream, it's clearly the good life.

It's pathetic, honestly. And it's frustrating for me, being an individual who loves to proclaim people's worth, and being someone who understands allot about psychology and such things and not being able to fix myself. Knowing that there are solutions, but not being able to see or practice them. I feel trapped.

As much as I would love this to be a blog that ends in triumph. It's not. At least not yet. Currently, I'm a slave to the lie, to the insecurity. I break out of my chains around every other day and then I come back dragging my feet, head hung low, wrists presented muttering "You were right, freedom is too much for me to handle."

We're meant for community. And I'm wanting to fight for it, but honestly, I'm tired of fighting to be loved. And I'm tired of believing blatant, evil lies. So, I'm working on it. I'm not complete. I'm not finished. And that's okay. 

Beauty In The Breakdown

I am someone who loves to be strong.
Though life has thrown more than it's fair share of curve balls my way, I've always had this sense within myself that I needed to be able to handle it all well. My personal standard for my own emotional and mental strength has always been extremely high. For most of my life, this ended up looking like stoicism or disinterest, perhaps even a complete lack of compassion or understanding. I grew up pegging tears as weakness, showing too much emotion in the face of trauma or hardship was a huge no-no, and forget admitting when I was just too tired to function as an average human. I couldn't tell you one or two specific things that taught me this, it's just kind of what I had always thought. This isn't to say I wouldn't break down, because Lord almighty were the boundaries of my bedroom filled with cries and questions, my pillow stained with tears, my journal covered with expressions of every emotion... but no one was allowed to see any of that.

Granted, as a teenager, I was battling an addiction to pornography, extreme loneliness, depression, suicidal tendencies, the deployment of my father, and some major- life changing health issues. So, I felt allot of things all the time. But the devil had hold of my ear and told me things like "no one can know, no one wants to be friends with a depressed girl."  "just smile, don't let them see your hurt." and "something's broken inside of you that you're not happy as a christian"  Unfortunately, this was reinforced by the stigmas the Church had attached to depression, addiction and health issues. Satan sounded allot like "Christian" culture to me, so I didn't see the falsehood in NEEDING to be strong.

I even remember on 9/11 sitting on the couch in our basement-family room, watching the news, knowing exactly what this all meant for our military family. I was 9 years old, and as I wiped the silent tears from my cheeks I remember thinking "Don't let momma see you cry, this is harder for her than you. Be the strong one."

Now, I'm quick to admit my emotional tendencies. There's been a great freedom and release in feeling openly. I'm known to say that "Emotions are an extreme sport, that I always win!" Overall, I'm not ashamed to feel each emotion with the zeal, passion and intensity that I do. It's just a part of the person I am. I'm firey and passionate, it only makes sense that I would feel emotions intensely. It'd be fair to say that, most times, I feel free. I feel released from the bondage of the lies of "I have to be happy" or strong, or feel any certain way... ever. The old "Church culture" that used to induce my self shaming no longer has holds on what I feel. It's not that my identity is found in my emotions, my relationship with God is not purely based on emotions, nor is every decision made with only emotions. But now, I'm comfortable voicing that I have emotions tied to to those things. If I was as stoic now, as I used to be... I don't think I would recognize myself.

And just when I thought I had dealt with everything, I broke down.

Dealing with a sensitive issue within my calling of abolition, I stood strong. I brushed it off. Then I got into my car and I sobbed. My first thought? "You're not good enough for this calling if you can't hold yourself together!" But that was just it, I DID hold myself together. In my line of work, it's necessary to control your own emotions around the girls be it in a restoration home or on the streets. You express the feelings later. That's exactly what I did, so I was fine. It wasn't out of line at all. It was the thought "You can't do this..." that came with the breakdown. Why? Why do we shame ourselves for allowing the spirit to continually break us?!

I texted my bestie, and she is one of the few who I first exposed the fullness of my feelings to at a younger age. This friend understands more about me than I do myself some days. And she reminded me, that there's beauty in the breakdowns. I accomplished what I needed to do, and the moment it was just me and the Lord I let down the boundaries and wet the clay of my heart with tears as the Father molded my heart to look a little bit more like His again.

So, while this isn't something I've got down pact, I'm choosing to move forward.

With true joy in my heart, hope glimmering in my eyes and the heartbreak of humanity catching my thoughts... I'll embrace the beauty of a breakdown! I'll mourn the injustice, let me weep over broken hearts and forgotten people, I'll break into tears and realize that MY strength is NOT ever going to be enough. Let me sob alone and realize that this is weakness, and His strength is made perfect in it. Then let me sit in the serenity of a calmed storm as Christ comes to mold me, and I realize there doesn't need to be shame, there isn't failure attached to this moment. But rather, it's a Holy moment. A moment of feeling just the smallest fraction of what the Father feels for this world, a moment where I don't have the full capacity to "hold myself together" under the pressure of the glory of heaven and the weight of my Papa's heart.

And I invite you to join me. Decide that there is beauty in the breakdown, and stop being ashamed of what you feel. Let's be honest about these holy moments. Not to consistently talk about how horrible things are, because... actually, if you have the Papa's heart, you see the hope in it too.

I don't know if any of this made sense, but I felt the need to write it out. So here it is. 

Underestimated.

Underestimate:
To roughly calculate or judge something's value as smaller or less important than it is.

This may be "odd" but today's post, is a letter to myself that I felt worthy of posting. Maybe you needed to hear it too? This letter isn't a cry or plea for encouragement, just the fleshed out conversation I've been having with the Lord in letter form. It's something I'm still learning, but I've also come a LONG way from the self hatred I used to live in. I'm proud of myself for that.


Dear Jackie,
     Stop underestimating yourself. Why do you equate your value in life to your education or accomplishments? You are so much more than a piece of paper that says you're smart enough to graduate college, you're more than your ministry, more than just your calling, more than what you think you are. You've spent so long going to bed defeated, your mind screaming at you for not doing "Better" or "more". The perfectionism you judge yourself with, isn't cute. The standard is not perfection. You're not Jesus and you're never going to be able to save every girl caught in captivity. You're not going to do everything right, but you know what? That's okay! His power is made perfect in your weakness. It's not even about your capabilities in the first place, it's about the allowance and space you give the holy spirit to move in and through you.

     Did you know others don't see your faults like you do? Nobody cares that sometimes your prayers are short, or that sometimes instead of "amen" you say "Jesus you're pretty cool, we should get coffee sometime." Nobody thinks you're failing because you haven't saved every girl caught in captivity that you've come in contact with. Why'd you put that pressure on yourself in the first place?! Who told you that the weight of the world was yours to carry? Because they were wrong. People are championing you on, they're cheering for you as you do everything within your power to shine hope in dark places.

     Did you know people look up to you? Did you know you're admired? Stop pushing people's words aside as "opinion" when they compliment you, encourage you and build you up. Believe people. Trust them when they say "WOW! you're beautiful." or "You're so brave for doing what you do!" I need you to be okay with celebrating yourself. Celebrate your accomplishments, it's okay to say "I did a good job, I did my best!" without following it with "I could have done more, though." STOP negating your wins with your own harsh self estimations.

You are worthwhile. You're good enough. You're equipped. You're called according to a purpose. You measure up. You are worthy of celebration. You're doing a good job.

     Here's what I need you to do. Celebrate when you've done your best. Acknowledge when something good happens, and stop thinking how you could have done better. Stop cringing every time you don't harmonize perfectly. I need you to surrender your perfectionism. The model citizen that you've made up in your head, that you need to measure up to... get rid of it. Speak life and love and hope and truth over yourself. Not YOUR truth, not YOUR reality. God's truth, His reality. The way he see's you is... beyond description. If you would sit down and shut up long enough to listen to the Lord you'd hear the song He is singing over you, it's Beautiful!

   Remember when He called you "little lion girl"... that still applies. You still have a voice that roars with influence, authority and love. You still have strength that can lead a pride. You still have a sound all your own, and most of all... your still HIS little girl. Get up off the dirty ground where you've thrown yourself with your words, and stand on the Rock of salvation. Stand, and look over the hills... do you see Him? He's calling for you to be fully you.

    Because you were made for such a time as this, and being made for something... means you're good enough for it.

Don't underestimate yourself. Don't estimate yourself at all. Let God sing your worth to you nightly.

You're going to make it, you always have before.
You're just learning.
- Jackie
     

This season. A wordy explanation.

Well, it's been a quite a while since I've updated you. I apologize, somewhere along the last month or so I've drifted into my own world and forgotten many things. This blog being one of them.

In my world, it's been allot of things one right after the other. Leading to an overwhelming time.

Isolated, loneliness, goodbye, making it, tears, blazing paths, labor pains, stuck, cooped, unavailable, unsafe, undesirable, hopeless, silent. These are but a few phrases and words that come to mind when I attempt to explain the season I'm in. This is not to say I am without joy or love in my life. I have many who surround me, who love me and do their best to keep me held up when I'm nothing but a melted puddle. 

I wish I could compare this moment in my life to a great story from scripture that could give me hope. Mary in her time of pregnancy, feeling alone, isolated, forgotten, wondering... but all the while trusting the Lord's plan above earthly proceedings. Paul, in prison, singing to praise God and pass time through the tears, silence and stuck-ness. Mary Magdalene, before encountering Christ, feeling undesirable, hopeless, unsafe and emotionally unavailable.

At this point, I can't tell if I identify with each of these stories or none of them.
I definitely am learning from Mother Teresa's story and her 6 decades of loneliness and feeling as though God has abandoned her.

No matter who I identify with right now - I've made the choice to hope, to trust, to fight. Hopelessness may have wicked teeth, but the fire that shot up in my bones 8 years ago to see freedom for women will not be torn away by wicked teeth. I will fight for love, for freedom, for hope. Not only for myself, but for my sisters.

The process of pioneering was recently described to me as this: 

It's like making scrambled eggs. You pour the raw egg into a pan, and you stir and stir and stir... and the eggs are still very much liquid. Then you stir, and stir more and they're still very much liquid. It seems as though the eggs will always be liquid. But, then, out of nowhere, they turn a corner and become solid.  Just as it is with pioneering. You put so much work into building a foundation. You work, and write, and sit behind that desk in obedience, knowing that it's part of the process. You pray, and you cry and you continue working... just to look down and realize that it feels like NOTHING has been accomplished yet. But I have hope that my corner is coming. I know it is. And Oasis, as a ministry whole, will turn the corner and suddenly things will begin to solidify. Fruit will begin to bloom on the branches I've been endlessly pruning.

Some positives that counteract the dark clouds in life are simple.

Accomplishments. Feeling as though just tiny things are being produced for Oasis. A mission statement, Vision statement, cultural values, talking about recruiting and staff training. It's good.

The mountains. I'm surrounded by beautiful mountains and I swear that when I'm in them, I can hear the earth sing praises to my King. My heart beats faster, as if I were on an adventure as I just stand and look over the beauty.

My family here in Las Vegas. My church, my community, the people who surround me and are able to hear when I am silent and breathe the life of Christ back into my lungs. The people who hug me, who see me trying not to cry and shoot me fatherly looks of love, the ones who check up on me and let me release it all and help me to come to healthy answers, the ones who deal with me gently, the ones who deal with me bluntly and the ones who ignore me when I need to be ignored. The ones who make me smile, laugh and sing when I've decided to be silent out of frustration. The ones who rush to hold up my arms the moment they realize that I'm becoming to tired to do it alone.

God's word. Meditating in the truth of Christ has been an ever flowing spring that speaks specifically to my heart and my mind when I need it most. Aligning me with the Father's heart and the truth and reality beyond what I feel.

Music. Worship, specifically. Which always has and always will understand my heart more than my words. The groans of pain are released through the process of praise.

The women. The women I see on the streets, their smiles, their "Hey Mama, it's been a while since I've seen you!"s yelled across the streets. The brokenness on their faces, but the glittering of hope in their eyes when they hear that they're loved. Brings me more hope. More life. More joy than I can express to you in a million years worth of words.

So, despite feeling as though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, His perfect love is casting out fear and driving me on not to rest here in this valley. It's tiresome work, it's sometimes isolated work but the Lord has called them worthy.

Life may be dark and clouded right now.
                                   But God has not abandoned me.

Why I hate offices sometimes

Yesterday, she rang the doorbell with tears in her eyes.
The strong aroma of fabric softener wafted from her cart of dripping clothes.
I let her into our lobby as I hugged the tears out of her eyes.
She asked only for water; I brought her water, an apple and a cereal bar.
She had just run away from the laundromat, laundry unfinished, because someone tried to buy her.


My sweet sister has a form of high functioning Autism and due to heartbreaking life circumstances growing up, not knowing how to manage her Autism, she's on the streets. The sun has fried her mind and she can't think straight anymore. She protects her self from men who would take advantage of her "disability" through physical violence. This means that lately, she's been in and out of jail for desperately hanging on to her last string of dignity the only way she knows how.

Yesterday, I hugged her until the tears stopped. My heart rose into my throat. My blood boils that she is forgotten by most.

It's the moments like these that make it hard for me to sit in an office and write a mission statement, or edit my vision statement for the 400th time. It's hugs like this that make me feel like my office is just stopping me from loving how I desire to.

I see the point. I know it's worth something to solidify these "office-y" growing a ministry things. But, I certainly struggle in the process of putting words on paper when there's so much to do in the streets.

And right now, that's where I'm at. It hurts to love so much, and to be tender to the pain. Sometimes I hate it. Sometimes I love it. But I am who I am. :) 

Friday's Word: Dreams

Dream 

1. A series of thoughts, images and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep.
2. Experience dreams during sleep.
3. Contemplate the possibility of doing something.

This past week has been a week of spending time pressing into the Lord, seeking His heart and allowing Him to lead my thoughts and heart into new territory. It's fantastic to meet with a co-worker and pray and just start writing down the strategies, plans and dreams for this ministry that will be reaching out to exploited women. This week has been allot of  conversations with Jesus about how he wants us to run this ministry, treat our staff, partner with others, reach out into the streets, etc. I cannot wait till this fall when we start fundraising and looking for buildings. Dreaming with Jesus and allowing my desires to line up with His has been a refreshing, beautiful thing that has been morphing my mind. The lyrics to a song that a friend of a friend wrote once upon a time, keeps running through my mind. "All the distractions I see, can't get their hold on me. So I fix my gaze, on your face, I fix my gaze on you!" and I am SO thankful that when I fix myself on the Lord, distractions fade away, identity and purpose is spoken over my work and dreams start coming to life!

SO, yeah... I'm sorry this isn't like my usual bit and whatnot. But, there it is. A blurb about my week. Kind of, Yeah. You know. Good stuff. haha 

Go in peace, blessings and DREAM more!

-Jackie 

Belated post: Friday's Word: FAVOR

So, this post was supposed to be done on Friday. But I was home sick Thursday and over the weekend. So, here's my belated Friday's Word.

FAVOR
Fa-vor
1. An attitude of approval or liking.
2. An act of kindness beyond what is due or usual.


This week has been about favor. The Lord is releasing new things over this ministry I'm building foundations for. Every time I reach a new task, I approach it ready to work, fight and vie for it's accomplishment. Then, the Lord just lines everything up so that it works out perfectly. This really is a time the Lord has prepared for me. His favor is pouring into my life and my ministry. Everyday I step further into absolute AWE of what the Father is doing here in Las Vegas! He's been preparing the fields for me, He's been preparing hearts, setting up relationships and preparing a way... and now the harvest time is here! I am reaping the joy and hope and blessings and favor of all the preparation many who have been before me have fought for! Guys, I don't even know how to exactly explain it. But, it's happening. Big things are happening. A storm is brewing, the awesome kind.

May justice, mercy, hope and FAVOR be yours!
-Jackie 

Friday's Word: Foundation.

foun-da-tion 
noun
  1. the lowest load-bearing part of a building, typically below ground level. 
  2. an underlying basis or principle for something.


     This week I've been learning allot about foundations. Being given the release to pursue a whole new ministry, under the umbrella of YWAM Las Vegas leaves allot of blank space to explore. Pioneering, at this stage, is difficult and it seems like not much is happening. I don't know allot about starting a ministry or how to execute a business plan to complete tasks like this. The one thing I DO know is that foundations, roots, are EVERYTHING. A firm, solid, trusted foundation is the basis for all building plans and roots are one of the most important parts of a tree. So, I'm determined to build a solid foundation. Perhaps I shall never see the fullness of this ministry I am beginning, perhaps I will never see it birthed into the world and grow. But I am pouring my blood, sweat and tears into building a foundation that will stand the test of time. I'm meeting with organizations, ministries and individuals to learn everything I possibly can about my field. Studying legislation, the details of the local law, studying the permit processes, learning victim care, community center management, etc. Sometimes, it's discouraging to be working so hard, for what seems like such a small outcome. As one of my co-workers said it, "It's a massive construction site with lots of cones and slow traffic. And from the outside, it seems like nothing is being accomplished, but everything is changing!" Luckily, I have partners, supporters, co-workers, friends and family who believe in me. Who listen to me cry about how God is good and point me in the right direction when I'm frustrated. I have a base director who's FANTASTIC at pioneering ministries and is teaching me along the way. My heart has hope.

     And when I give into the temptation of negativity, I  look up from my desk and this art is hung on the wall right out my window. It reminds me, the roots and foundation are the life-blood and strength of everything that lives, breathes and grows.

    It's worth it. These girls in this city are worth it. The spreading of the gospel is worth it. Every last moment of confusion or frustration or discouragement is worth it. The. End. 

Friday's Word : Adjustment

ad-just-ent 

noun

  - a small alteration or movement made to achieve a desired fit,

    appearance, or result. 

  - the process of adapting or becoming used to a new situation. 

     This has been a week-ish of many adjustments. Last week I moved to Las Vegas, road tripping across America with one of my best friends and now that she has returned to  In the meanwhile, I've moved in with some friends, here in Las Vegas, for the next few months. I started work this past Monday (June 1st)... Now here we are, it's Friday! I've been settling in and re-adjusting to life in Vegas, living in an apartment and now - actually having more capability and time to pour into the foundation of a new anti-trafficking ministry, through YWAM Las Vegas. As it is the time of year where our DTS' (Discipleship Training Schools) return from their international outreaches and debrief, I've dedicated a chunk of my time to helping prepare the base for their re-entry. It's a little weird being back in Vegas, working with YWAM. Almost like I'm starting over again. That's not necessarily a bad thing, though. I get to take my time and build a really strong understanding and firm foundation for ministry to exploited women in Vegas. I'm not quite sure how to wrap this up, but I'm encouraged and ready for whatever comes my way. I feel much like a race horse at the starting gate, just waiting for the moment I get to run, even just one step, closer to the dreams and visions God has placed on my heart. 

May grace and justice burn in you, 

Jackie 

The Long Awaited News.

Alright, you poor neglected blog. It's time we slap some information on the world wide interwebs for information sake, eh? Yeah. It's time. My last post was about "leaving soon" ... HA. Funny how I thought I had things figured out. As if the timing of me returning to Vegas is remotely under my control. Nope. It's kinda Jesus' choice. I'm cool with that though, ya know? haha.

So, after a few more months of waiting and praying and waiting and trying and waiting and fasting and working, I've finally come to a nice little clearing where I can make a final call. I've finally raised enough to support move back, and while I can't quite afford to live in my own place yet, I have plenty to live on the ministry base without having to fight to make ends meet. And I've decided when I'm leaving MI and hitting the road for YWAM Las Vegas.

MAY 26th!

 I have 27 days until I'm hitting the road. In the next 27 days I've got allot to do. I'm working, camping, printing support letters and sending them out, hanging out with friends for the "last time", selling my old car, getting a new one, packing up all of my stuff and heading straight for the road.

I'm BEYOND excited to head back to the city I love.

I'm thrilled that in only a month I'll be back with my ministry family, my church family and the general greatness that is my community in Las Vegas, all of whom I've missed dearly.

Even though I've been working my butt off while I've been here in MI, the Lord has been totally faithful to restore my soul, to give me rest, to restore vision and passion. It's been a struggle to see Him sometimes, it's been a fight to keep my eyes on Him... but the struggle has been worth it.

I'm ecstatic that I'm going to go back to the streets of Vegas, where I'll be able to minister in many ways with YWAM Las Vegas. I long to sit on the streets with women and hug them, talk with them, love them. A MONTH! Just a month.

There's honestly not a TON to say right now. I'm just excited.

If you would like any information on how to support me, you can contact me via e-mail at jackiejoypoole@gmail.com or on Facebook. And if you'd like a prayer card, just send me your address and let me know, and I can pop one in the mail for you!!

- Jackie Poole 

I'm on my way,

Hello Friends, 

It's time for another update. Don't you think? 

So, it's almost the end of January. Where have the last 3 months gone?! It feels like I've been here in Michigan FOREVER. While I've been home, I've been working 2 jobs and I'm just now adding a few more hours a week cleaning an office and doing henna for donations. It's been nice being able to work so much, I can totally see how the Lord has been working in my favor in the job arena. I get a fair number of hours a week and, if nothing else, I get to feel productive while I'm here waiting for the Lord to say "Return!" 

My heart. My passion... is Las Vegas! 

It is my hope to make Las Vegas home base for me. To settle into an apartment (with 2 roommates, who are awaiting my return), to re-settle back into church and find my place in the community in Las Vegas. Really taking time to invest in my city through more than just my ministry with YWAM, but investing in other ways. In friendships, churches, volunteering, etc. Las Vegas is a city that many grimace at the thought of, but somehow this city has absolutely captured my heart and God's glory dazzles me there daily. It is a city I can see myself in and hope to be in, for several years to come! 

It is my hope, my dream, my passion - to secure a steady, growing ministry that will fight human trafficking arm in arm with other local organizations and government entities. I dream of a safe house some day or something of the sorts. I truly believe that Las Vegas can be the catalyst, the example to follow for the nation in fighting human trafficking. I believe that we I can see an end to modern day slavery in my lifetime and I have committed myself to following God in fighting for justice for the voiceless until he tells me to stop. 

As of right now, I'm hoping to return to Las Vegas in the end of February - early March. The second week of March I am registered to attend a national YWAM Cities conference/think tank/meeting focused on anti-human trafficking. This conference is hosted in southern California, just 4 hours from Vegas, and will be a perfect kick-start to a new season of growing an anti-trafficking ministry within YWAM Las Vegas.

 

As you most likely know, I have procured $4,000 of debt through leading a team to India and Nepal for 2 months and due to a lack of support. Out of my $4,000 debt, I have been able to save up just over $1,000 and I hope that through working allot and the blessing of the Lord that I am able to pay off the other $3,000 and still have some left over by the end of next month. 

 

I'm not going to even be shy. :) 

I have financial great need, and I am asking you to prayerfully consider partnering with my passions and dreams through a one time donation or through a monthly commitment. I plan to work as hard as possible to pay off as much debt as I can and I also intend to move out of staff housing and into an apartment with 2 friends. While it is the more expensive option, it is the safest and the wisest for me while living in Las Vegas. This brings my monthly support needs from the base of $400 a month to approximately $800 a month.

I would greatly appreciate your help in finishing the payment of my debt and/or monthly support to help me get settled into Las Vegas as home! Your support means that I can do full time ministry in Las Vegas as I know the Lord has called me to do. Your donations help me get closer to returning to the fight against modern day slavery in Vegas.

I also greatly desire your continued prayers for wisdom, guidance, finances and a fixed vehicle. 

I thank you in advance, without you who pray and support I would not be where I am now! I would not have been able to experience that which I have already and I would not have this growing dream and fire within me to see the end of slavery in the world. Thank you for being a part of that. Thank you for following my stories, for sending prayers and for supporting me financially. It's been a ridiculous blessing to call you each a friend. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. 

With that, I end. 

May peace, blessings and mercy proceed your every step. 

-Jackie
 

Peace.

Peace:
1. Freedom from disturbance; quiet and tranquility.
2. Freedom from the cessation of war or violence.
>Used as a greeting.
>Used as an order to remain silent.

It's December and this means Christmas time is upon me, and while I greatly celebrate the season (and the fact that I get to celebrate with family for the first in a long time!)... "Peace" as a focused Christian theme is often saved until this time of year. "Peace on earth and goodwill towards men!" I mean, yeah, DUH, Jesus is the Prince Of Peace and all. But there's so much more to peace. Outside of Christmas, we ask for a "Peace that surpasses understanding" when someone is going through a confusing, rough, difficult or straight up crappy circumstance or "season" as we like to say. Peace is much more than a lack of war or violence, it's more than silence and tranquility, it's more than the hippie theme and it's more than a directive order.

Peace is so much more. This is me, talking about myself here, but - We do our Prince of Peace an injustice simply by remaining complacent in our simplistic and uninterested understanding of the peace He so greatly rules over. I have underestimated the power of Peace and in doing so, I've underestimated my Lord.

So, going back to that phrase we pray, "Peace that surpasses understanding!" Such an eloquent, beautiful, all encapsulating, blanket statement to pray in a hard moment. I get it, I use it ALL. THE. TIME. But not until recently did I understand what that really means in practical terms.

If you've known me for long, or read my posts and followed my travels and life events - you are well aware that my life seems to lack a certain essence of peace. My life has, over the past 2-3 years, shown a steady level of unrest and consistent disturbance. Traveling from place to place, experiencing painful loss, witnessing some of the most agonizing moments, reaching my hands into heart wrenching situations - but all the while seeing ridiculous movements of Jesus, the truest of victories and liberation, seeing the best.

This trend has followed me to my life in Michigan.

I got a job within 3 days of arriving, which is a CRAZY blessing! I LOVE where I work. Not many can say that, I know. I thought, "surely, I'll be doing well enough to pay my debt within two or three months!" I've gotten to see my friends and family who I've been separated from for far too long. I've gotten to attend not only my beloved home church, but many other in my city who are working for the greater good of the Kingdom. It seemed picturesque. Now my hours are being reduced at work. Every time I sit down to write something to one of the many friends who has supported me over my time with YWAM, my mind get's foggy and I get inexplicably frustrated, walking away with nothing accomplished. With car troubles draining my paychecks, gas being guzzled as I run around trying to figure things out, being unable to produce clear communication with those I need to communicate with and various other negative inputs... It's become a war. A Daily war to figure out what the heck is making this so hard and then trying to combat it with whatever weapons I can muster.

Then: peace.

I was walking to my car on Sunday, just a normal day in the hood. My hands were particularly cold and I was clenching them, trying to ignore the cold. For some reason I was frustrated with life. Nothing particular had happened, but the feeling of being overwhelmed hit me and I was almost in tears. When, I felt heat in my right hand. It felt as if someone was holding it. I felt the lord say, so clearly, "Jackie, stop fighting for what is already won! You're life is in my charge, not yours. The battle is mine. Stop taking up arms and walk forth in peace. You are worth that peace. You are worth the fight. You're just worth it. Despite everything, you are worthy." It's been a long time since I have felt God so present and heard Him so clearly. I had to slow down for a moment to continue the conversation. And we talked. It wasn't long, it wasn't extensive. But that moment with Him was inexplicable. Just that moment of locking eyes with my Prince, my Lord, has left my heart in peaceful shambles.

Now, this is where that phrase comes in. Physically, nothing has changed. My hours are still cut. So far, I'm still losing to frustration in writing to my supporters... everything around me is still just as unsettled. But in that conversation with Jesus, He poured a deep well of still, calm waters within me. Now, this sounds like it'd be the best thing ever, RIGHT?! Well, only kind of. haha

Me, being me... I analyze. I analyze people and their habits, their nervous ticks. I study reactions and facial expressions, accents, tones of voice, I tend to notice what makes a person's eyes sparkle and among many of my social circles I've become quite the frequent arm chair psychiatrist.

So I began to analyze this peace. It makes absolutely no sense. Nothing in life, apart from Jesus, says that I should have peace. That I should be calm. WHY?! Why does this emotion, this... deep rooted sense of almost... immortality to current circumstances exist within me. It makes no sense and even under any of the many "microscopes of analysis" I tend to use, there is no rhyme or reason. It just is. That. Drives. Me. Batty. It's a sense of crazed need for understanding. But, don't worry this peace surpasses that understanding. In fact, this peace rented a Lamborghini and sped by understanding on the freeway screaming "SEE YA LATER SUCKER!"

What do you do with this? What, I ask?

Well, you have your moments of human-ness and analysis. You try to figure it out the best you can.
Then you just sit down, shut up and enjoy the darn ride.

Peace isn't just the lack of violence or war. It's not just tranquility. It's not just when the kids finally fall asleep in their beds and you can finally crack that book you've been waiting to finish. It's not just when everyone actually get's along for more than an hour at the family Christmas celebrations. It's not just something we should talk about around Christmas. It's not just a passing theme, not something we should just glance at once in a while in wonder. It's much, much more than that.

It's being rooted. It's recognizing that your sense of control is all a ruse and God really is wanting to connect with you on that deep, true, physical and spiritual level. Peace is God's funny little creative experiment that you can only understand when you're hands on.

So, let me remind myself for a moment, again.

Stop glancing at peace in the corner of your eye. Stop choosing to recognize it politely as a stranger on the street and run as fast as you can for a huge sloppy splash into that refreshing and familiar spring. Ask for it. Seek it. Yearn for that peace. While it may drive you mad. It will drive you closer and it will keep your true sanity in tact. Don't be afraid of what you don't understand. Let down your walls of so called strength and control - Then let peace cross into your camp. And just let it be.

Life in Michigan

Hello Friends,

Well, it's official. I'm in Michigan. I've been here for 3 weeks! WHAT?! THREE WHOLE WEEKS?! Life here in Michigan has been a little bit of a crazy whirlpool of everything, in a weird, weird way.

 I interviewed and had a job at a local coffee shop within 3 days of getting back to Lansing, which was a huge symbol to me that God has set this time aside for His favor and blessing on me. I'm doing something I love, making  coffee, I get to talk to people and I'm getting paid for it! YES!

I have been praying for God's will and His plan for my support raising.
Oh support raising, what a love/hate relationship we have.

I think the hardest thing for me with raising support right now, is seeing how I've failed so many wonderful people in my life! Over the past 2 years I have had people who have stood by me in prayer and in finances. All the while, I have been absolutely horrible at communicating with those people. Those who have supported me deserve and endless world of updates and thank yous! However, I have been too distracted and allowed myself to get too busy while I was in Las Vegas. If you've supported me in prayer or financially and you are reading this - I'm sorry, I messed up! I am trying to heal what I have broken. I am trying to make lists and write personal letters to each of my supporters and I hope to meet with them one on one to express to them my deepest apologies and thanks. I cannot express what my life would have been like without these fantastic people.

Moving back to Michigan has been... different. Who knew that there would be a period of culture shock with moving from fabulous Las Vegas to Lansing, Michigan. I walked into Meijer, a local grocery store, the first week I was home and I almost cried. It was just so HUGE! Everything was different from what I remembered, I didn't recognize anything and though I laugh at myself for this now, in the moment - I was devastated. Life here is much more calm and relaxed. There's less to do and it's so dark! I'm used to living with a ton of people, being up late at night and going out to look at the lights when I'm bored. Not. Anymore.

I am excited to see what God may do with the rest of my time here. I get to be home for thanksgiving and Christmas, which is the first time in over 2 years! I get to see my whole family, with a decorated tree in the corner and I get to laugh with them, get stressed out by them and enjoy all of what comes with shoving a huge family into a cute little double wide trailer. :)

God is doing something big. I don't know what exactly. But he is.

My heart is full of joy, hope and anticipation at what the Lord may do.

There is the conjumbled life of me right now. More to come later, I'm sure.

Jackie