This Road I've Traveled

As I look back on this road I've traveled
I see so many times He's carried me through
And if there's one thing that I've learned in my life
My Redeemer is faithful and true

My Redeemer is faithful and true
And everything He's said He will do
And every mourning his mercies are new
My Redeemer is faithful and true
By Steven Curtis Chapman

the test of grace

a friend recently commented that "the best friendships are those that stand the test of time."
i responded that "those friendships are wonderful indeed, but to me the best friendships are the ones that stand the test of grace.

i need grace.

too often my mouth takes off, spewing out words before i can catch them.

i'm working on self-control,
on mouth-control.

but in the meantime

i need grace.


i am a selfish creature. i like things my way.

i'm working on considering others before myself,
on trying things your way.

be patient with me,

I need grace.


i'm judgmental and prideful.
(i'm a recovering pharisee)

I'm working on humility.

don't be done with me.

i need grace.


i am insecure.

sadly my insecurity can cause me to be the ugliest version of myself.

i'm sorry.

I NEED GRACE!


the best friendships are those that stand the test of grace.

they stay.
see in me what i cannot see in myself.
love me,
and wait with great expectation as
the Potter shapes this clay...

With His Grace.


(photos of yarn taken during our weekend away).

away

we don't date much.

we do life;
working, photographing, taxi'n, bills, cooking, cleaning,
yard work, weeding, laundry, homeschooling,
disciplining, grocery shopping, surviving, and hoping-
life.

our dates consist of
two weary parents,
with kids tucked into bed,
falling on the couch
and into each others arms
every night.

weekends away together are a treat.
holding hands,
conversation and quiet,
delighting in our life together,
dreaming of our future,
being "us" again.


at avila beach


nana& gramps (the sitters) loft in S.L.O.
so lovely and SO FREE!


pix from avila beach and santa barbara.
i'm curious what is a "mind spa?"
(i'm sure i could use one).

i'm thinking of laying a beach towel out on a beach with a cardboard sign that reads
"stay at mom needs babysitting money!"
i'd toss my coins to that worthy cause.



a sunday a.m. bike ride in s.l.o.
(thanks lindsey for letting us use your cruisers).


moonstone beach in cambria.


ending the weekend in the most delicious way,
with a peace of linn's olallieberry pie
(linn's will air on the food network's "best thing i ever ate" in the fall).

do you and your husband date?

what would your beach towel say?

beauty is a homeless man

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat,
I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink,
I was a stranger and you invited me in,
I needed clothes and you clothed me,
I was sick and you looked after me,
I was in prison and you came to visit me...

I tell you the truth,
whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine,
you did for me.
Matthew 25:35-36 & 40

We met George Lucask in 2005. He had been a crippled, abused, toothless, homeless man living under a bridge in Fresno before a family from our church befriended him. They brought him to our mountain community, and arranged shelter for him at a local motel. They also made arrangements with a handful of families to visit with and provide one meal for George each day.

We signed up for Tuesdays and Wednesdays.

George struggled to adjust to a motel room as his home (long term arrangements were being pursued). Adjusting to sleeping in a bed, showering, using the toilet, and cleanliness did not come easily for George. The street had become his home. And though it was unsafe, he wanted to return to familiarity.

George battled demons (lies). He had a history of shame. At 18 he left his country of Hungary to avoid being enlisted in the military. He never saw his family again. This caused him much sadness. In addition he had been wounded shortly after arriving in the U.S., as a result he spent much of his adult life on crutches. The defeat caused him to seek comfort in alcohol.

George had become an outcast. His companions were loneliness and scorn.

BUT God...

The kids ( 3, 5 & 6) and I would arrive at his motel room with a meal, snacks, a bible, and EXPECTANCY.

We expected to see Jesus in George, and with George.

And we did.

EVERY. TIME.

As George sat to eat his meal, I'd read scripture, share my stories of battling lies, and coming into Truth. George received them. I saw the doors of grace opening in his dear life.

Each time we visited George, my sweet Emilie delighted in seeing him! She'd embrace him and hold his hand, nestle in close to him. Her genuine love made this untouchable, touchable.

The gray walls of George's motel room were quickly being transformed into a gallery. As a handful of children poured their love for him out in displays of art.

Washing George's feet became part of our visits. His feet caused him much pain, and had scaled over, increasing his pain. Tenderness, Compassion, and Love were invited into his room with each washing. I was humbled (a gift as i was coming out of the most prideful season of my life).

Once we brought George to our home. We had visited him many times in his home, but knew hospitality meant inviting him into our lives as well. He sat with the kids and I as we home schooled. And then we put George gladly to work, cutting strawberries for his favorite dessert- strawberry shortcake (he was adorable with whipped cream in his beard).

On another outing (which resulted in ice cream sandwiches and driving through a car wash) We were listening to hymns when George started singing loudly and clearly-

Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation!
O my soul, praise Him, for He is thy health and salvation!
All ye who hear, now to His temple draw near;
Praise Him in glad adoration.

Praise to the Lord, who over all things so wondrously reigneth,
Shelters thee under His wings, yea, so gently sustaineth!
Hast thou not seen how thy desires ever have been
Granted in what He ordaineth?

Praise to the Lord, who doth prosper thy work and defend thee;
Surely His goodness and mercy here daily attend thee.
Ponder anew what the Almighty can do,
If with His love He befriend thee.

Praise to the Lord, O let all that is in me adore Him!
All that hath life and breath, come now with praises before Him.
Let the Amen sound from His people again,
Gladly for aye we adore Him.

Those words have had new meaning and power since hearing them flow from George's lips.

In George I saw that Beauty is a homeless man.

Before I met George I thought He was "the least of these," but during that season with George I discovered that I was the "least of these." I hadn't seen Jesus in ALL people, only in people that looked the part.

But George, a homeless man, was Jesus with skin on.

And Jesus was beautiful.

Where have you seen Beauty?
(George now lives in community, in a home for Senior Citizens,
where his physical, emotional, and medical needs are provide for).

To read more stories of Beauty or to share your own visit Best Days of Our Lives.

green with envy

"smoochy"- noah's frog, our green view,
a green wall, my green boy (22 months)

st. pat's day shirts
follow this tutorial to make your own.

yummy cookies in a green box, green thread,
green suitcase, green book- "the giving tree"

crazy. wonderful.

as my sister, toni, and i got in her car and drove away from oakdale, she said, "i'm tired. this day feels like it began a long time ago." i thought about the weight of her words and responded, "it did, it began 26 years ago when mike became our dad."

the day caused us to revisit our childhood. together. which is much better than doing it alone. it is lonely to go there alone.

we attended mike's memorial service. we were recognized in his obituary and eulogy as step-daughters. we were included in the photo collage. we were recognized and embraced by family and friends. childhood stories were told and delighted in.

after the service we drove through our childhood. down the streets, past the many homes, and memories. together. it was important. we've both done it alone, but never together. and we extended grace to the other for how they experienced that time. it was good. healing. necessary.

our drive took us past the home of "dad" #6, larry. he was home. we wondered if it would be too much for this day, to stop by, but curiosity got the best of us. he was delighted to see us. just hearing his voice and seeing his face was a piece of home to me (my memory of home is a puzzle of pieces).

as larry introduced us to his new girlfriend he proudly announced, "these were my girls."

in the previous post i quoted beth moore, who says, "you can't amputate your history from your destiny." she says, "God wants to redeem your history."

redemption happened yesterday.

when the relationships with the "dads" ended, there was never explanation or conversation between the adults and my sister and i. the adults moved on, and we were required to move on too.
sadly this lack of consideration for the tender hearts of two little girls left a lot of room for lies to move in. i have believed all these years that i (we) was irrelevant, not wanted, and of no worth to the men who were dads (this of course has carried over into other areas of my life. i battle this lie daily).

but at mike's service our relevance to his life was shared.

and when larry introduced us as his girls that too spoke of our value.

the lie i've believed was being rewritten into truth.

God is redeeming, rewriting my story.

and i ask myself. 'why am i sharing this with you?'

and this is why...GOD.

look at me.

do you see HIM?

do you see God?

Oh, how i long for you to.

God has saved my life.

and given me LIFE.

i am a God miracle.

i feel like the crippled beggar (Acts 3) who was placed at the temple gate (called Beautiful) everyday. he begged for $ (for provision) but in Jesus he found what his heart really longed for, The Healer.
The scripture goes on to say that after his healing he went into the "temple court, walking and jumping and praising God."

do you see me? i am walking and jumping and praising God!

john 3:16 says, "for God SO LOVED the world, He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him will not die, BUT have everlasting life."

i live in that love!

i live that everlasting life!

and i only LIVE because God saved my life.

as we drove away from oakdale, toni said, "it's crazy. we have 7 dads."

"it is crazy, so crazy!" i responded. "but it's also wonderful. we have loved and been loved by many."

Thank you God for healing the crazy and making it wonderful.

May God heal the crazy in your life. redeem your history. rewrite it. make it wonderful,
and be glorified.

7

i usually crack jokes about it.

i don't know why i do this.

i think because it's such an uncomfortable thing to say, and i imagine an uncomfortable thing to hear.

so i crack jokes.

and when i do the other party laughs.

and that uncomfortable feeling-sorry-for-me moment seems gone.

but today i'm not going to joke about it.

beth moore says, " you can't amputate your history from your destiny." she is right. i've tried to sever limbs from my story, but God doesn't allow it (how i've wished he would). However, He causes me to live with my wounded limbs- my wounded history.

He wants to, and He does, REDEEM it.

so here it goes...

i've had 7 dads.

(long awkward pause)

joe- is my birth dad. he didn't claim me as his daughter until last year. he was a drug user for 25+ years. he is lives in a state hospital, he is paranoid schizophrenic.
he taught me how to throw a frisbee. he bought me my first car -it was a yellow convertible with pedals. he ducked taped it back together when it fell apart. he liked working on cars.

kenny (k-2nd)- was my first step-dad. i called him daddy. had his last name. he introduced me to jesus. made me a teeter-totter. he put a swing in the tree of our front yard. he'd push me so high my toes reached heaven. after he and my mom divorced he took my sister and i to columbia state park. that day meant a lot to me (columbia is still one of my favorite places to visit). i found a large fools gold rock with him that day. it is 28 years later and i still have that big rock.

manny (3-5th)- my mother was engaged to him. he was a quiet man. kind. he played guitar. he'd sit by my bed side at bedtime with his guitar and sing a song he wrote. i don't remember much else about manny, but this is a lovely thing to remember.

mike (5th-8th)- i called him dad. had his last name. he loved sports. taught me how to throw a football. coached my softball team. took my sister and i to the park, and made us learn how to slide into home base. he was a hard worker. had a lively family. he got us a basset hound, his name was mork. mike smelled like cocoa beans (he worked at the hershey factory).

tim (8th to Jr. year)- he was engaged to my mom. he never tried to be my dad. i liked that. he was a dreamer. he talked to me, listened, cared. once, i showed him a picture of a loft bed in a magazine, he surprised me by making that bed for me (he didn't sand it. he didn't measure the space between the mattress and the ceiling. i'd have to shimmy up the wall to get into bed, then lay flat on my back with my nose to the ceiling. this still makes me laugh). tim still calls me twice a year. he calls on my birthday in the fall, and again in the spring. it means a lot to me that he kept his commitment to be a part of my life.

larry (Jr. year -19)- my mom married him my jr. year of high school. he was stable. had a jolly laugh. he was a hard worker. he too didn't try to be my dad ( a good thing). he provided us with a beautiful home. he liked and built cars. my 65 ford falcon looked good parked next to his 34 ford cabriolet. we had a bartering system-he'd fix my car, and i'd pay by mowing the lawn.

steve (20-present)- hard worker. calls me "kiddo," loves and delights in my kids. i like to watch him worship.

i've had 7 dads.

i can't amputate them from my story.

there is much ache as a result of having seven dads that i have not shared.
just having 7 dads come and go brings enough ache of it's own.

i love each of them.

and i have mourned the loss of each of them.

this weekend i will go to a memorial service and mourn the loss of one of them again, mike passed away.

BUT
there is daddy whose loss i will never mourn.
God is the "Everlasting Father" (Isaiah 9:6)
a Father who will "never leave me or forsake me."
His love is unconditional and immeasurable!
He rewrites my story, redeems my life, and tells a better story.
and I LOVE HIM!

A Good Infection

(Originally posted Feb. 2009)
"This matters more than anything else in the world... The whole dance, or drama, or pattern of this three-Personal life is to be played out in each one of us: or each one of us has got to enter that pattern, take his place in that dance. There is no other way to the happiness for which we were made.

Good things as well as bad, you know, are caught by a kind of infection. If you want to get warm you must stand near the fire: if you want to be wet you must get into the water. If you want joy, power, peace, eternal life, you must get close to, or even into, the thing that has them.

They are not a sort of prize which God could, if He chose, just hand out to anyone. They are a great fountain of energy and beauty spurting up at the very center of reality. If you are close to it, the spray will wet you: if you are not, you will remain dry.

Once a man is united to God, how could he not live forever?

Once a man is separated from God, what can he do but wither and die?"

C.S. Lewis
Mere Christianity

photo taken on my trip to Flores, Azores, Portugal - July 2007

I'm Alive

My hands are searching for You
My arms are outstretched towards You
I feel You on my fingertips
My tongue dances behind my lips for You

This fire rising through my being

Burning, I'm not used to seeing You

I'm alive, I'm alive

I was inspired by Lisa Leonard's post Photo Play to attempt some collaging of my own over at picnik. I have a lot to learn, but it is fun to branch out from my usual collages.

The lyrics to David Crowder's song All Around Me have been playing like a new favorite record on my heart this week. The line "My tongue dances behind my lips for You" speaks of the intimacy God and I share.

These two photos capture me, ALIVE.

When are you alive?

To listen to All Around Me select this link and listen to it at Lala.com

Spring. Is. Coming.

Spring. is. coming.

Spring: to appear or grow quickly; to move suddenly forward or upward;
to release or cause to be released from confinement.



It's raining on these hills outside my home. It's been raining on these hills inside my heart.

Rain. Is. Good.

The hills are thirsty.

Because of the rain there will be a GLORIOUS spring!

The hills have already turned a vibrant shade of green. I'm waiting for delicious blue skies, surrounded by puffy clouds to frame their beauty.

a lone lupin waits on my hillside, longing to be in community. It will. When the remaining lupin are released from their captivity they will join in a dance of purple on my hillside!

Wildflowers in shades of white, butter yellow, and baby pink will join them in the dance.
Some will be delicately chosen, they will dance into my home, waltzed away by little hands, delivered as a gift for this mommy.

Spring. Is. Coming.



thank you noah, emilie, and josie. thank you for seeing the almond orchard filled with blossoms, and saying (before i asked),"mommy, you want to pull over and take pictures don't you!" thank you for inviting me to do so.
it is good to be known.

better than a hallelujah

I heard a song that resonates with me, giving me permission to be where i am. to be in this season.

This season of praising God with one hand, cursing at him with the other.

This season of finding God to be exciting, and yet terrifying.

This season where my God heart, my Spirit, is being shaped into some other form.

A few of the lyrics say, "we poor out our miseries, God just hears a melody." The lyrics go on to say this is Better than a Hallelujah.

Listen to to Better Than a Hallelujah here

God loves a lullaby
In a mothers tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
God loves the drunkards cry,
The soldiers plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah.

The woman holding on for life,
The dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes
The tears of shame for what's been done,
The silence when the words won't come
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah.

Better than a church bell ringing,
Better than a choir singing out, singing out.

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah.

to find the Place

'It was when I was happiest that I longed most...

The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing...
to find the place where all the beauty came from.'
Till We Have Faces, C. S. Lewis



Father, you are the Place where ALL the beauty comes from.

Because your Love is better than life,
My lips will glorify you,
I will praise you as long as I live.
Psalm 63:3

I Am - Jill Phillips

Oh gently lay your head
Upon my chest
And I will comfort you
Like a mother while you rest
The tide can change so fast,
But I will stay
The same through the past,
The same in future, same today

I am constant; I am near
I am peace that shatters all your secret fears
I am holy; I am wise
I'm the only one who knows your heart's desires
Your heart's desires

Oh weary, tired and worn,
Let out your sighs
And drop that heavy load you hold
Cause Mine is light

I know you through and through;
There's no need to hide
I want to show you love
That is deep and high and wide

I am constant; I am near
I am peace that shatters all your secret fears
I am holy; I am wise
I'm the only one who knows your heart's desires
Your heart's desires

Oh gently lay your head
Upon my chest
And I will comfort you
Like a mother while you rest

I am, Jill Phillips

zzzz's

Dear Sleep,
I don't know where we went wrong? You left without warning. Please tell me how I can make things right between us. I'm desperate for you to return to me. I miss you. I need you.

Tired, and longing to be yours,
Denise

eat, cuddle, enjoy, celebrate, worship

this weekend i'm going to eat cookies,
cuddle with my husband,
enjoy the company of a friend,
celebrate a 1st birthday,
and worship.



What are your weekend plans?

What's in a name -part 2

I'm here to rewrite this tragedy
One line at a time
Hold on,
I'm changing all the scenery
It's okay we'll be fine
Cause we know how this ends
We know there's a better story

There's a better story
Of true love
Of true grace
There's the hope of glory
And our first chance to be truly brave
It's the place we're going
When we can't stay where we are

Rewrite This Tragedy, by Sara Groves

As I shared in a previous post, "What's in a name?"
The meaning of my last name Jones means "Yahweh is gracious."

I looked up the meaning of my maiden (now middle name), Teodosio. It comes from the Greek word, Theodosius. Theo means "God," and dosis means "Gift" and "Giver."

Have you experienced those moments where God rewrites your story? The moments where you look back, but instead of seeing tragedy, God is present, whispering in your ear, telling you the truth about who you are, showing you that you were in His hand, and indeed His all along.
From that moment on you never look at that situation the same, you look at it with God present, with God's hand on your life.

Over the past few days, since discovering the meaning of my birth name, God has been rewriting my tragedy...one line at a time.

He started at my birth...

To be rejected by your father is a tragic story, it is the story I have lived my entire life. My earth father, Joe Teodosio, arrived at the hospital after my teenage mother gave birth to me, took one look at his 5lb 12 oz baby girl, and said, "she's not my daughter." Over the next 35 years there were too many encounters where he made sure I understood my nonexistent place in his world.

But God...

over the past few days, God's Spirit has taken me back to that hospital room, to my infant cradle. Back to a scene whose story has haunted me, and He has rewritten it. I see him draped over me, God with me. I hear him whisper in my curly, little ear, "Denise, you are a God Gift."... "Denise you are My Gift."

He has taken me through other scenes in my play, rewriting my story, making the character in my story different than it was in the beginning.

There's a better story even in the broken story. God is walking me through the better story, and I'm living it.

But not only is He walking me through yesterday, He is showing me today. Whispering in my 36 year old ear, telling me who I am... "Denise you are God Giver."

Could I be God Giver?

I want to be. More than anything I want to be.

When the last chapter of my story is is read I want it to be said of me, " Denise was a God Giver."

Who does God say you are?

Is God rewriting tragedy in your life?

What's in a name?

I was sitting with a very pregnant, one-week-away-from-delivery-friend yesterday, and we were discussing baby names (of course).
Just as I was in that season of name choosing, she has been very intentional about the name of her child.

We discussed how the name you give your child has meaning, and that that meaning is a blessing over our childrens' lives, as well as a blessing over the family.

We wanted our first child to have a strong name, one that brought with it hope, promise, and deliverance.

Noah Joseph means "rest, peace, not broken, made whole," and "may God add"

I had chosen the name of my first daughter, and began praying for her when I was just 16. Her name fits her personality perfectly. As the middle child her qualities sweetly bless this family.

Emilie Erin means "industrious, diligent worker,"
and "peace or mountain of strength (Hebrew)"

Josie's name came to us quickly, she is named after my grandmother. The meaning of her name brought hope to us. We lost a child before her (Caleb, "who followed the Lord wholeheartedly"), and I wanted the blessing of God adding to our family. God has definitely added light, joy, and song to our family because of her. I also wanted the assurance of this child being dedicated, devoted to God.

Josefine Elise means, " may God add," and "consecrated to God"

But I realized I had only given thought to the first names. I had never considered that our last name might have a blessing with it as well.

I discovered that Jones comes from the Hebrew Yochanan meaning "Jehovah has favored," and from the Latin Johannes, which means "Yahweh is gracious."

He is gracious indeed! Since becoming a Jones, I have received more than I deserve. I find myself saying, "why did you give me this life, I have done nothing to deserve it." I see that God has only just begun to lavish his graciousness on me!

As I searched for the meaning of our last name I came across the Jones family crest, and discovered that the Jones motto is: Without God, without anything.

Yes, without Him, we have nothing.

What is the meaning of your first and last name?

i asked God to help me love my neighbor.
i do.
and it hurts.

it was easier when i didn't let his life touch my life. i think i knew it would hurt if it did. and it does.

it brings up a world of childhood emotions. lately i find myself in a sea of tears. the broken child in me wants to protect and cover him from the hurt he has no choice but to live in.

my neighbor is 9. he is an adorable, red headed, freckled faced boy, with the GREATEST giggle.

he lives with his grandma (who is his guardian), his mom, his sister, his schizophrenic aunt (recently released from the state hospital), her baby (grandma is her legal guardian too), and who ever else decides to crash there.

his dad is in prison. his sister's dad died. his baby brother died two months ago.

his mom came over a bit intoxicated last week to use our phone. i drove her home (yes next door). she had a very intoxicated "friend" visiting. he stayed all week.

we picked him up for church yesterday (he's been going with us regularly). he had a new haircut.
i told him he was handsome.
it was brought to my attention later that that haircut came with tears and him being cussed at by his uncle (who gave the hair cut, and was at the house for the weekend).

last year i started praying for God to put a man in this little boys life. someone to tell him who he is. i think boys need dad figures. i think they need a man to tell them, show them they are capable, to model what it is to be a man...to be godly.

last year after i prayed this he was expelled from school. he missed too much. he fell behind. he was placed in a continuation school where he was the only student. it seemed hopeless.
But his teacher is a man from my church, who LOVES God, and LOVES my neighbor, and wants to be the man this sweet boy needs in his life. he wants to speak truth to him, tell him who he is, teach him, love him.

a few months ago after he had gone to a family bible study night with our family, he called me (they don't have a phone anymore) and left this singing message, "Savior, He can move the mountains, My God is mighty to save, mighty to save."

tears... i hope HE does. Pray with me that God saves him, moves the mountains in this little boys life, and brings him into Hope. Pray that he will have a future lavished in God's love, and goodness, living in His Truth, thriving in Freedom.

Weekend Plans

Last weekend I suggested to my husband that we make tamales.

He made tamales. He made tomatillo salsa.

I helped.... a little. I helped fill the tamales (after he'd spent a day and a half preparing them), I had the girls create salsa labels, I took these great photos, and I ate the tamales and salsa.

I'm thinking this weekend I'm going to suggest to my husband that we clean the garage... oh wait, I already suggested that we clean the garage last weekend, and he already cleaned it.

Hmm, any suggestions on what my husband and I should tackle together this weekend?

What are your weekend plans?

Magnificent

Magnificent
Oh, oh, magnificent

I was born, I was born
To be with you in this space and time
After that and ever after
I haven't had a clue only to break rhyme
This foolishness can leave a heart black and blue, oh, oh

Only love, only love can leave such a mark
But only love, only love can heal such a scar

I was born, I was born to sing for you
I didn't have a choice but to lift you up
And sing whatever song you wanted me to
I give you back my voice from the womb
My first cry, it was a joyful noise, oh, oh

Only love, only love can leave such a mark
But only love, only love can heal such a scar
Justified, till we die you and I will magnify, oh, oh
Magnificent, magnificent, oh, oh

Only love, only love can leave such a mark
But only love, only love unites our hearts
Justified, till we die you and I will magnify, oh, oh
Magnificent, magnificent, magnificent

Magnificent, U2

Performed on a rooftop in London.