the dress

It’s my favorite question to ask the bride when we meet for the first time.

“Have you found the dress yet?”

And then, her eyes light up and a smile creeps across her face as she describes in explicit detail the gown she will wear. Somewhere in the fog of detail, her and I forget we’re meeting in the studio to supposedly discuss photography packages. Instead, we’re both caught up in a steady stream of lace, ruffles, pearls and satin.

Months later, I’ll find myself stowed away in her dressing room with a camera in hand, capturing giggles from bridesmaids and picture-perfect curls being formed. And then my favorite long-awaited moment comes. She slips one leg into the mess of fabric. The gown is pulled up and laced tightly, she’s adorned in simple jewels and she turns to take in her reflection for the very first time.

And for one brief moment, the room goes still. I forget about my camera, and we all sigh in unison. The vision before us can only be described as breathtaking. It doesn’t matter how many weddings we shoot, or how many brides I meet – the moment she first appears in all her anticipated glory is nothing short of epic.

And the moment always reminds me of that upcoming wedding hosted by God himself in which all of humanity has been invited. A wedding which will make the Royal Wedding look like child’s play. Christ is the groom and we, the body of believers, are His bride.

The cotton candy colored sky and the white-topped mountains are only a foreshadowing of God’s glory and creativity, which will reach its peak with the wedding feast ushering in a new heaven and new earth.

The wedding attendees will be clothed in special garments. Like any typical girl, I’ve already begun thinking about what I will arrive wearing. My dress won’t be self-made or even purchased from a famed boutique, because it could never, ever be good enough. The way I live my life on earth will determine the beauty of my future dress, and as Isaiah writes, “all our righteous acts are like filthy rags.” Isaiah’s defines filthy rags as menstrual garments– how ridiculous to think about showing off a used tampon! In the same way, it’s ludicrous to assume that any of my “good deeds” could impress a holy God. For my sins far outweigh any good I have done.

However, God Himself will provide a garment for me, which will be unequalled! “I am overwhelmed with joy in the LORD my God! For he has dressed me with the clothing of salvation and draped me in a robe of righteousness. I am like a bridegroom in his wedding suit or a bride with her jewels.” (Isa. 61:10)

I won’t be able to enter heaven without my special wedding garment, this robe of righteousness. Only God can give me the glorious robe; it’s a free gift. And I’ve already accepted it. Have you?

“But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing wedding clothes. He asked, ‘How did you get in here without wedding clothes, friend?’ The man was speechless. “Then the king told the attendants, ‘Tie him hand and foot, and throw him outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’” Matt. 22:11-13

*Picture courtesy of Jeff Mullikin Photography

undeserved attention

Last night I dropped $150.

As I sat in that black, nylon salon chair, enduring two hours of beauty treatment on my hair, I couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. All around me, women were having their hair highlighted, cut, straightened, blown dry and teased. And for one small instant, I found it all absolutely…hilarious.

Why? Because every month, I spend money on something that is dead. That’s right. By the time each one of my 120,000+ hairs  emerge from under my scalp they’re already dead. Lifeless. In that moment, it just seemed so silly that women give so much attention, not to mention cash, to something without vitality.

After my chuckle, I started pondering about all the undeserving things I give attention to.

I’ve been thinking for, well two weeks now, about new year’s resolutions because 2012 is a big year for me. In the fall of 2010 my previous marriage fell apart, I lost my dream job and many close relationships. It took an entire year to heal; a complete year to put my life back together and pick up the pieces. This year, 2012, is a fresh start – with my new wonderful husband at my side and endless possibilities before us. It’s a blank page.

Besides working out more, eating healthier and running a marathon (okay, maybe not that last one), this year I want to resolve to stop giving attention to that which is dead and gone. Paul wrote in Philippians 3, “I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on”.

There have been times I have screwed things up in my life. There’s been times that life just threw me a disastrous curve ball. I failed history in college…twice. My first marriage ended in divorce. The church building my dad pastored at for 15 years foreclosed. All of those things happened and more. But you know what? Those things – those faults and misfortunes, they’re dead and gone now.

Isaiah 46:18-19 reads,
“Forget the former things; 
   do not dwell on the past. 
See, I am doing a new thing! 
   Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? 
I am making a way in the wilderness 
   and streams in the wasteland.”

God rejoices in producing water in the desert. The desert of your past; the wasteland of my past. 2012 is about watering that which still lives, and cutting away those things that are dead. No more regrets.

As for my hair? Well, I don’t think I can do without my highlights just yet. Or maybe ever.

For more on this topic, some great blogs:

One Word 2012: BURN by Matt Price

The past by Jon Acuff

bringing back Christmas

I absolutely adore this time of the year. A side of me that I’ve never seen before has been slowly appearing. In the kitchen, I’ve evolved into a woman that is learning to cook and bake. In the living room, I finally mastered the Christmas tree decorations without begging my sister to come over and fix it. I’ve taken time to press the pause button on life and enjoy driving down a street intoxicated with Christmas lights.

But, what I love most about this time of year is remembering the origin and focus of Christmas; the miracle of it all. I’m a hopeless sucker for a good story and the real story of Christmas; well, it’s the greatest tale of all. Jesus’ coming is a story spun of suspense, love, sacrifice, drama and fulfilled promises.

As the November page is ripped from the calendar and the month of snow and gifts arrive, we will celebrate the advent season. I never really knew what advent meant, did you? Advent comes from the Latin word adventus meaning arrival or coming. For the four weeks leading up to Christmas, the advent season celebrates the coming of the Savior and Messiah. Advent is about resetting Jesus as the center of our lives.

I found this awesome Christmas reading plan on Cissie Graham Lynch‘s blog, and I want to pay it forward to all of you. The reading plan comes from You Version; an easily readable 24-day plan leading up to Christmas Eve. Each daily reading is followed by some thought-provoking questions.

Jeff and I started the plan this evening and really enjoyed discussing the questions afterwards! I’m excited to wake up early on Christmas morning not just to give Jeff his gifts, but to have Jesus at the center of my holiday.

Dec 1: Luke 2:21-40

Dec 2: Matthew 1

Dec 3: Luke 2:1-20

Dec 4: Mark 9:33-37

Dec 5: Matthew 4:12-17,  Isaiah 9:1-3, Matt 5:14-16

Dec 6: Acts 20:35, 1 John 4:10

Dec 7: Exodus 25

Dec 8: Matthew 25:31-46

Dec 9: Isaiah 9:6-7, Revelation 19:1-16, 1 Timothy 6:11-16

Dec 10: Matthew 1:22-23, Isaiah 7:10-15, John 1:14

Dec 11: Genesis 1, Isaiah 1:18, Psalm 51:1-10

Dec 12: Revelation 2:1-5, 1 John 3:1-3

Dec 13: Psalm 150

Dec 14: Acts 15:22-31

Dec 15: Luke 1, Jeremiah 32:17

Dec 16: Matthew 2:1-12

Dec 17: Galatians 4:1-7

Dec 18:Isaiah 58, Matthew 6:16-18

Dec 19: Luke 11:1-13

Dec 20: John 1

Dec 21: John 21:25

Dec 22: Psalm 100

Dec 23: Matthew 25

Dec 24: John 3:16

Dec 25: Luke 1:26-56, Matthew 1:18-25, Luke 2:1-40

P.S. Jeff says he’s never heard of stringing popcorn garland on the Christmas tree. Tell me I’m not the only one who did this growing up!!?

world AIDs day

Do you ever wonder where Jesus would be if he were physically present in our world today? Maybe he would be having coffee with pastors who are leading the largest congregations across the nation. Or chatting with the president in the oval office.

I never really thought about that question until I traveled to Africa for missions work. But, standing on a mud road in the midst of a squatter camp, being used as a jungle gym for three children who would only eat one meal that weekend, the thought occurred to me, “This is where Jesus would be; with the forgotten people; with the children. He would be giving a hug or a cup of cold water, or handing out food.” 

Because, that’s what Jesus does. He cares about the people no one else cares about. When he was in our world, he hung out with the prostitutes and drunkards and sinners; not the emperor or the religious leaders. He hung out with the regular, forgotten, “riff raff” of the world.

Today is World AIDs Day 2011.

You haven’t seen AIDs until you’ve been to South Africa.

You haven’t seen AIDs until you’ve seen a 7-year-old little girl living with the disease.

In Africa I was able to see the disease up-close. I spent time playing with children who were infected with some stage of HIV or AIDs at Sparrow AIDs village in Johannesburg, South Africa. Some of the children were homeless due to the death of one or both of their parents to the disease.

As we spun around the carousel and kicked soccer balls, I noticed that some of the children were missing patches of hair, their eyes were sunk back in their heads, and it seems that all of them had a steady stream of snot running down their nose. But, they still loved to play…and to laugh! Inside were kept the children who were worse off. It’s never easy seeing little boys and girls lying in hospital beds hooked up to tubes.

In 2008, I visited Sparrow for the second time. I was co-leading a mission trip with 25 kids from our youth ministry back home in Kansas City. We had spent a few hours playing with the children and were preparing to load up the bus. I ran back inside to see if we had any stragglers. The toddler room opened and closed with sliding doors. As I tried to slide the doors closed, one of the toddlers with AIDs grabbed my finger and bit down. When I pulled my finger out a thin trail of shiny, red blood was pooled in my finger nail.

Horror filled my insides. No one wants to see blood in an AIDS village, never mind that it was MY blood. My insides were frozen. Is it possible to transmit HIV through a bite? I told only a few leaders what had happened, but kept it from the kids. For the next two weeks, I was freaking out. I lost 15 pounds and came home a skinny mess. When I visited my doctor, he told me the only way I could have contacted HIV was if the child had open sores in his mouth. There was no way to know if had. So I was forced to do HIV testing for the next three months. My HIV test came back negative; my blood was good.

I was okay.

But those children living at Sparrow still have the disease.

Everyday it would ravage their little bodies. If they come to Sparrow in the very early stages of HIV, and are placed on antiretroviral drugs in time, then they could have the chance of a long life. But, if they arrive at Sparrow too late, they have a few years at best.

Someday when I look back on my life, there are things that I will regret and there are things that will fill me with pride. I take pride for the time I spent at Sparrow; every hug given, every ball kicked, and every smile passed on. Because, for some reason, I really think that’s where Jesus would spend his time. 

Question: Where do you think Jesus would be?

“Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14


Volunteering at Sparrow in 2007

Samaritan’s Purse: WORLD AIDS DAY

Saddleback Church: HIV Initiative 

2 is better than 1

Finally received some footage of our beautiful wedding day and I can’t wait to share it with you! I love how this video instantly takes me right back there. 

In other news, it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas at our place…AND I LOVE IT!

 

 

more than thankful

I love it when the mail arrives everyday. Maybe it’s cause we don’t actually own a mail box. Nope, we’ve got this really cool hole slot in the side of the house that empties into the deep, unknown of an old musty-smelling closet. It’s a daily adventure just trying to salvage every envelope and postcard. Or quite possibly it’s because I’ve grown up in a world where email is at the tip of my fingers. There’s just nothing quite like an envelope addressed solely to me, shrouded in mystery until the seal is broken.

It was just such an experience last week when I opened an envelope which revealed a beautiful cream and green wedding invitation. The groom is not a close friend by any means; but, in a way, we shared something more powerful than friendship. We were fellow survivors; survivors of broken dreams and failed marriages. After twelve years of marriage, his wife had told him she wanted a divorce and he was devastated. It’s a story I’ve told many times on this blog.

And yet, despite the pain that threatened to forever haunt him, on December 31st of this year, he will marry a new woman who has captured his heart. His sister (who happens to be one of my very best friends) describes his new bride as an “angel”, and I can relate.

Today, I am thankful for new beginnings. That no matter how bad life gets – there’s always hope. Jeff and I have now completed the process of moving me into our house and organizing all of my old belongings. As I’ve gone through countless boxes, it seems as if there’s always some old letter or belonging, etc. reminding of my old life  – – and it still occasionally hurts. The truth is, it takes a long time to clean up a life; to clean up the  debris from broken dreams.

But, I married a man who didn’t mind wading his way through my mess to find my heart. He didn’t care what people would think about him dating the “freshly divorced girl”. He didn’t mind that I harbored major trust issues.

And even more importantly I serve a God who offers me (and you) a new beginning every morning; no matter what happened the night before. My God is a God like this husband, who, after accidentally throwing away his wife’s $10,000 wedding ring, suited up and combed through a 10-foot pile of garbage at the local landfill. He didn’t give up despite digging through trash, feces and carcasses, and sure enough, after enough time, spotted the ring glinting in the sun light. What a picture of God! He doesn’t mind sifting through all of our garbage in order to find our hearts. He’ll clean us up. Because with God, there’s always a new beginning. 

I got re-married two months ago, and I’m starting my new life. I’m decorating for Christmas and I’m hanging up lights. I’m starting new traditions and I’m slowly opening my heart up again to life. God is good and he has seen me through. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

“God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up. They’re created new every morning. Great is your faithfulness!”

Lamentations 3:22-23

my first song: the video

Several months ago, I published this post, which was the lyrics to the first worship song I wrote, entitled, “I Come to You.”

I just got ahold of the video of the Rock Band playing my song for the first time last Christmas. The Rock band consisted of a special group of kids that are near and dear to my heart (Danny on acoustic guitar- who wrote the music for the song, Billy on bass guitar, David on drums, and Katie on background vocals). Since we performed this song, the kids have now gone off in separate directions to various colleges and the Rock building is no longer I place I’m constantly at. But, I’ve learned that people come and go and buildings can be locked up, but the truth in the words of this song will forever be in my heart. I hope you like.

The Rock band playing at Schlitterbahn 5-21-11

We can now call ourselves "songwriters"! Me and Danny

three generations

We had such a great time last week in Michigan visiting my grandparents (Opa & Oma). They have passed on to me an incredible spiritual heritage and a history (59 years!) of love for one another. It was wonderful finally introducing them to Jeff, learning two new german recipes, and hearing stories about my mother when she was a little girl. (Apparently she sold pictures of her Twiggy-look-a-like sister to the German boys for 5 marks! Little entrepreneur!) 

Opa & me - he told Jeff not to get jealous!

Three generations 🙂 Christie, Leopoldine and Jenilee

the record

On a train traveling to Ludwigsburg, Germany sat a young man. Head in his hands, paying no mind to his fellow travelers, he did nothing to try and stop the large, crocodile tears that fell continuously out of his ocean blue eyes. For twelve hours, miles of landscape passed by the windows and the steam engine continued to hum. Alois squeezed his eyes shut and balled up his fists in desperation.

Though he was only 18, life had lost all of its purpose. There was no longer any rhyme and reason. He had successfully escaped from his communist-led homeland of Czechoslovakia.  But what waited on the other side; freedom and happiness? No. All he had known had been pain, hunger, and disappointment.

He was supposed to be alongside his three friends en route to Australia and a better life. But, his visa had been denied and he was sent back to the refugee camp in Ludwigsburg. He would depart the train there completely and utterly alone; no friends, no family. There was no one in Germany to share his pain and sorrow. His escape had been for nothing. He had left his family back in Czechoslovakia and they did not even know he was alive.

Alois contemplated jumping from the train and ending it all. He felt numb; lifeless. To God, he prayed, “If you are really up there, look at me, what is happening to me? My three friends go to their new lives, and I go back to nothing. I do not have one human being in Germany to go to and I am at the end of my strength.”

Alois is my grandfather and he has an incredible story; a story of disappointments and sorrow, but also a story of God’s passionate love. My grandfather (or as I affectionately call him, “Opa”) penned his story. As I read this section, I suddenly felt a bond form between him and I, which I never knew we shared.

You see, I too sat in a seat, while tears fell constantly down my cheeks, believing my life was over and nothing was left. I shoved my face into the crevice of the seat. For 14 hours on a flight to London I battled my own personal demons. From all looks of it, God had abandoned me.

Without any forewarning, my marriage had fallen apart. My greatest fears had become a reality. My dream job was ripped away. Everything was gone. My heart was broken into countless pieces and I was deeply scarred.

Sixty-one years after my grandfather contemplated the value of his life, I followed in his footsteps. But, thankfully, Opa kept his record.  Yes, it was began as a record of his lowest moment on the train to Ludwigsburg. But, it became a record, which later tells of him meeting my Grandmother in Ludwigsburg. A record of passionate love between a daredevil of a man and his sweet bride.

Without the rejected visa and train ride back to Ludwigsburg, my Opa would never have met my Oma. Without that day, my mom would not exist – and neither would I.

I called Opa the day I read of his suicidal thoughts on the train to Ludwigsburg. He said, “Jeni, you know that was probably the lowest moment of my life. But, as I look back on it now, it was the best moment of my life.”

God has a way of doing that, doesn’t he? We blame him for orchestrating the devastation of our own personal tragedies. And, maybe we are fair to do that. Because, more often then not, He is behind our worst moments. But, while we cannot see past the reality of that single moment of pain, the same box does not bind God. He sees  the glory that awaits. In His tender way, He smiles down on us and says, “I know child. I see. But, please, just wait. just wait…”

Opa and Oma showing me the route of the train to Ludwigsburg, Germany