Author Archives: Jenilee

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the names

The truth is that I hate driving down 143rd street.

It’s impossible to ignore the white building that still sits on the hill. On the same hill where Jeff kissed me for the very first time eight years ago underneath a sky lit up with Independence day fireworks. The building is vacant; dark and probably silent enough to split eardrums. The doors are surely locked. That massive parking lot cleared out.

I keep reminding myself it’s only a building. Simply brick and mortar. It too will pass away like everything else at the end of the age.

But, for me, it’s so much more than a building. It’s a symbol of something powerful in my life.

I remember the countless times my parents drove down 69 highway while my dad would reach his hand out toward the land he prayed God would one day allow him to build a church on. I remember when the hill was just an empty field; the building just  another one of my dad’s dreams. I remember as a teenager, fasting every Thursday so we could pray for God to bless us enough to build a youth building where teenagers could come and not be pressured by temptation.

That church building was my second home growing up. That building holds the majority of my childhood memories.

And I believe those dark, abandoned hallways still whisper the names of people; people who walked in those church doors never to leave the same again. In fact, First Family Church was never about Pastor Jerry or the Johnston family.

First Family is about Stephonn, who begged us to rent a bus big enough to get twenty-seven of his friends to the youth crusade.

First Family is about Susan, who came after an abortion and failed suicide attempt. A woman who met Jesus at our church.  She also met her husband and now mothers a beautiful towheaded little girl.

First Family is about a boy who was caught sleeping behind the stage after his parents kicked him out because of his problem with addiction.

First Family is about Sydney, the teenage girl who texted me after a youth bible study asking me how she could “get saved”.

First Family is about Ed, who got sober through a comfort circle held at the church on Monday nights.

First Family is about Marvin, an AIDS patient at Hope Care who attended the bible study led by church attendees on Thursday evenings. He fell in love with God and was baptized in FFC.

First Family is about Chris, who left his days of womanizing and partying behind when he invited Jesus to be his Lord after a Wow bible study.

First Family is about Lauren, a teenage mom who came to the youth group and met Jesus Christ for the very first time.

First Family is about Amber, who after years of abuse came to First Family and discovered that God loves her just as she is.

First Family is about Calyssa, the teenage girl who had tears streaming down her cheeks after we visited an orphanage in South Africa and went on to work with YWAM after graduating.

First Family is about Connor, a teenager boy who got so convicted during a Wednesday night message, he asked a youth leader to destroy the hidden stash of pot in his car.

First Family is about Scott, who felt called to ministry while attending church. He went on to oversee the entire student ministry of a large church in Kansas.

First Family is about the 526 orphaned children in Johannesburg, South Africa who received Christmas presents from the youth group.

First Family is about Jon, who nearly died from Kawasaki disease at 17 years-old. I remember the night our entire church got on our knees to pray for his healing. He’s now in seminary and leading a youth ministry in North Carolina.

First Family is about the tiny kids enrolled in Awana who quoted bible verses like little scholars.

First Family is about Jeff, a senior in high school who stood up at the end of a youth service to accept Christ in his life. He later asked me to be his wife.

Hundreds of names still echo through those hallways; they will forever be a reminder of what God accomplished in that building. They can lock the doors, and even take the cross down, but they can never erase history. Those names won’t be blotted out of the book of Life. The past can’t be rewritten.

Every few days I text my dad, and it’s a version of the same sentence. “Dad, I miss FFC so bad. It hurts.” And he’ll text back, “I know.” Two broken hearts. But, two hearts that have seen enough to know that God is still very much in control.

When my Dad started the church, he prayed that lost people would come and find Jesus Christ. He prayed that through the church his three children would develop a heart from God. My sister, Danielle, loves God and now serves as a worship leader. My brother, Jeremy, loves God and serves as a Pastor. Me? Well even after a heartbreaking divorce, my love for God has not faltered one bit. He means everything to me.

So every few days, I’ll have a good cry. I’ll read a rude comment from some hater. And then I’ll dry my eyes and keep going. And I’ll remember the names.

Because those names are what First Family Church was always about.

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in sickness and health

 

In sickness and health…

Who knew we’d be putting our wedding vows to the test so early.

In February Jeff ruptured his achilles tendon playing flag football. Now, if there’s one thing I’m certain of it’s that my man is no wimp. He actually tried walking limping on it for two weeks, before caving in to get the MRI and discovering the seriousness of his injury. Dr. Badway performed surgery to repair the tendon, followed by six tumultuous weeks in a cast.

We were recently asked if Jeff’s injury had caused our marriage to struggle. Perhaps it’s due to the fact that we are still head-over-heels-in-love newlyweds. Or it could be that there are so many couples around us struggling with cancer and life threatening problems; but for us, it hasn’t been a struggle – simply an adjustment.

Marriage is not a one-stop destination. It’s a journey. And along the journey, there will be several adjustments to deal with.

Sure, I’ve had to lug heavy photo equipment to multiple photo shoots. Sure, I’ve had to become a professional photographer overnight, learning lighting, the camera and photoshop overnight. But the Word tells us that love is patient and kind. This is just my first opportunity to show my love. ‘Cause love is so much more than a feeling. It’s an action. It’s a sacrifice. It’s an honor.

Wednesday is the big day. Praying Jeff will be allowed to come out of the cast and into a walking boot.

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platform

Tim Tebow, NFL

“….And that’s how I feel about my relationship with Jesus Chris. It is the most important thing in my life, so every opportunity I have to tell him I love him, or I’m given an opportunity to shout him out on national TV, I’m going to take that opportunity.”

Jeremy Lin, New York Knicks

Jeremy Lin, NBA

“I’ve learned how to be open and bold about my faith, but in terms of my influence, I just try to lead in a godly way.”

“My new years resolution: love God more deeply and intimately…”

Colton Dixon, American Idol

“…being a Christian is who I am. It is a part of me musically.”

“Idol is more than a singing competition. It’s a chance to share who you are. I just happen to love God.”

“…I follow a guy named Jesus. I’m just trusting in His plans. Whatever that may be.”

It seems as if several Christians have risen to such prominent positions as of late. The church-going, bible-reading, and praying kind of Christians.  And instead of shying away from the opportunity to speak about their faith, they are boldly proclaiming it, in some cases to the chagrin of the public. 

When I was a teenager I used to pray each morning as I drove to school. Most of the time it was a “help me to find a parking spot and get to class in time” kind of prayer. But I also remember praying for God to allow me to be a witness for Him at my public high school. I remember saying something like, “God, give me an opportunity today to share my faith. And when the time comes, make it so crystal clear and give me the exact words to say.” 

I don’t know what your platform is, but I know you definitely have one. We might not all be NFL quarterbacks, but we all have a circle of influence. It might be at school, at work or possibly even at home. There are people you come in contact with daily. How are you influencing them?

While in high school, I only saw a small group of my high school friends come to know Christ in a personal way. But four years after graduation, I received a Facebook message that I will forever remember. It came from a boy who I somehow conned into coming to church once or twice with me in high school. But he hated Christianity and anything that had to do with it, and probably thought I was some kind of crazy, religious wacko. We lost touch after high school until he sent me the message.

The Facebook message read, “Remember how I used to be so anti-christ? Well…I’ve discovered the truth and have become born again. I dont know if since coming to Christ if I’ve thanked you for planting that seed and not giving up on me despite how much I refused it.”

My jaw hung open in shock. I ran downstairs and opened up a box of old journals. Scrawled in my chicken scratch handwriting on old, dusty notebook pages were prayers I had written years before. Prayers for the boy (now a man) who had sent me the Facebook message. Prayers for him to find purpose in life and most importantly for him to come to know his Creator and Savior in a personal way. 

After high school I gave up on him ever “becoming a Christian”. But, God never gave up on him. And God used my small, seemingly meaningless sphere of influence, my tiny platform, to “plant a seed” in his life that would later be watered and harvested by someone else. 

People watch the way you live. And they take note of what you say. I wonder how many people have googled “God” since Colton Dixon said he wanted God to shine through his performance first and foremost. I wonder how many people have gone back to church for the first time in years since reading Tim Tebow’s biography. 

And I wonder how many will come to know Christ because of a simple prayer made in a car on the way to school. I hope at least a few. 

How are you using your platform?


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no, no never

Jeff and I spent the weekend with our two year-old niece while my brother and his wife were welcoming their new baby boy into the world. Making this video was the highlight of the weekend.

On another note, my sister-in-law was rushed back into the hospital Tuesday morning with severe hemorrhage, leaving both their two year-old and the newborn with Jeff and I. I have so much respect for mothers – I was either rocking a baby, changing a diaper, feeding a bottle, starting a load of laundry, picking up cheerios, or beginning a new Dora episode. And I’m pretty sure my hair looked like I stuck my finger in an outlet and my shirt may have been on backwards!

Audrey was released from the hospital on Wednesday and is slowly regaining her strength! Your prayers are appreciated.

I can’t wait to have a baby with Jeff one day. It’s going to be such a wonderful experience!

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my picks

I am incredibly blessed to work with my husband, Jeff Mullikin, in his photography business. I know a lot of women who would literally go crazy if they had to work with their husbands, but Jeff and I have a very professional business relationship, and we enjoy our partnership. (I pray that never changes!)

On February 12th, we shot Nakeshia and Corey’s wedding at the beautiful InterContinental Hotel in Kansas City, MO. Jeff is teaching my so much about photography, and not everyone can learn from a SCAD graduate! It’s a lot of fun, and not to mention an honor to be a part of the most important day in a couple’s relationship. There are tears, laughter, glitz and glam – and we get to capture every moment of it.

So, here are “my picks” from Nakeshia and Corey’s gallery:

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claustrophobia

I had an MRI this morning.

There’s been ringing in my left ear for about a month now. Most likely, it’s nothing (except annoying, of course), but my doctor ordered the MRI just to be sure. I’d love to say it was a piece of cake; nothing to it. But, the truth is, I didn’t handle it very well.

The nurse with pink scrubs instructed me to lay down on the plastic table. After she locked my head inside a “cage”, it began to spread through my body- heart-pouding, pulse-quickening, makes your hair stand on end, goose bump rising, shortness of breath, pure FEAR.

“Can you please take this thing off of my head!” I demanded. Begging the nurse to let Jeff come in the room with me, I did my best to suppress the tears that were beginning to form in the corner of my eyes. I sat up and grabbed the sides of the table with clenched fists and white knuckles.

“Just take a few deep breaths,” Pink nurse instructed. I obeyed, but the deep breathing seemed to do nothing for my heart that was likely to burst straight out of my chest.

“Okay, let’s try it again,” I said with apprehension.

She locked me back in and I pinched my eyes closed to block out the head cage that I swore would crush my head. I bit my lip and focused on the pain, instead of letting the tears escape through my eyelids. My left hand gently fingered the panic button…just in case. I felt my body move with the table into the machine. And then horrible, vibrating groans from the machine seemed to fill every inch of the tiny space that surrounded my head. I had no sense of time.

I briefly opened one eye and the fear began to spread throughout my body again. I was trapped! I was going to be crushed to death! I felt like I was losing control. “How am I going to get through this?!” Surely, I was the only person in the entire world and would be forgotten in this machine – forever locked away, serenaded by eternal groans.

“Consider it pure joy my brother, when you face trails of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance…” I started to mentally quote those bible verses from James that I had stored in my memory as a 13 year-old.

The sounds seemed to quiet a bit.

“Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything…”

My pulse found a slower rhythm.

“If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you…” 

I began to actually breathe like a normal, sane human being, instead of the quick breaths that barely filled my lungs.

“But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind…” 

I felt it slowly at first. The feeling ushered itself through my veins now, pushing out the fear. I unclenched my teeth for the first time, and I felt a strange peace overtake my body.

I finished quoting the verses, and thanked the 13 year-old with braces who first decided to memorize them.

Only God’s Word can calm my heart so quickly. And God promises that His Word will never return to Him empty, but will always accomplish all He wants it to. I love the Bible. It has been so powerful in my life; has brought so much peace time and again. It is truly timeless.

I echo the Psalmist’s words, “You are my hiding place and my shield; I hope in your word.” (119:114)

The MRI came to an end. In the car, I laughed with Jeff and finally allowed the pent-up tears to freely fall down my eyes. (I’ll never understand how I can cry and laugh at the same time.) Today, I learned two things:

1) I am claustrophobic.

2) The Bible rocks. 

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god is red

You wouldn’t find me sleeping in on Sunday growing up. And I’d rarely get to see that opening kick-off at the game. Instead, I’d be waiting for Dad to shake the final hand at church, pull off his necktie, and says, “Okay. Let’s go,” long after the sound system had been silenced and the parking lot cleared.

As a teenager, I felt as though I practically lived at church, and only recently have I realized how much that was taken for granted. In 1944, as the Communists took over China, all religious activities were banned. Churches were closed or burned; pastors, priests and nuns were sent to the fields to become farmers.

The Chinese Christians destroyed their bibles in fear of being labeled “counterrevolutionaries”. Only under the cover of darkness in the secrecy of mountain caves did they continue to meet and pray together. After years of reading the Bible, God’s words had been etched “stroke-by-stoke” on their souls.

This week, I took a journey with Liao Yiwu, a man who embraced exile over silence in order to publish God Is Red, the secret story of the survival and spread of Christianity in Communist China. More than once, my eyes were flooded with tears as I read the stories of such ordinary people that refused to deny their life-changing faith. Each recounted the tale of those trailblazers who first came to China with the gospel of Jesus Christ; foreigners with blonde hair and blue eyes. The missionaries were known for their generosity, building hospitals, orphanages and schools. But soon, the foreigners were kicked out of China, leaving Christianity as only as a small spark in the land.

However, that small spark became a blazing fire, which could not be denied, sweeping across China despite harsh persecution. The spark came as a preacher who would not stop sharing his faith, even inside the prison walls. The spark came as a doctor who gave up the “good life” to bring medical treatment, compassion and Christ to forgotten villagers. The spark came as a reverend, now memorialized in Westminster Abbey, whose tongue was slashed out to keep him from preaching during his trial.

These people, and countless others, were marked as spies and counterrevolutionaries, accused of “poisoning people’s minds with spiritual opium”. Liao shares their tales, unscripted and uncensored, as they battled for freedom of expression and religion. And, all the while, my heart seemed the bleed within my chest, challenged by their continued existence.

What if my faith were put to the test; would I persevere? Am I known, not just for being a Christian, but for my generosity for others? What will my legacy be?

And, though not converted himself, Liao, too marvels at these Christians, “moved by the sustaining power of faith and the optimistic spirit among the congregations he encountered.” Christianity has now flourished in China. According to new surveys, there are now about 100 million Chinese Christians worshipping independently of the government sanctioned state churches. Those who call themselves Christ-followers now outnumber the Communist party.

This is one of those books, that stayed in my heart for days. A book, or really a challenge, which cannot be shaken.