Father's Day and Feelings

I always title my blogs before I write them.
Probably because I tend to get off subject and looking at them makes me remember what the heck I'm talking about...

But this one, I feel like, I won't need a double take at to make sure of what I'm writing on.

I always hate Father's day, but every year just a little less than the year before. This year, I was determined to not cry. Well, I made it about five minutes into the service and the tears came.

For quite some years my heart felt like my daddy had abandoned me and I was resentful, hateful, and confused about fathers. When, however I began to trust God as my father, I had out of this world ideas as to what a dad was. I think I still do. But, I would always get upset when I saw father's mistreated or disregarded by their sons and daughters. My friends that have daddies, whether or not their parents are divorced have something I have spent my entire life longing for: Someone to run to when they're scared, hurt, confused or frustrated, someone who has a hard time saying no to them, someone that can't get enough of them and loves to see them smile. Now I know not every dad is like that. It would be foolish to think that all dads can do all of those things. But, I'm certain that in times of dire need there is DNA in a father's heart that will do anything to see their child continue on in their hopes to be a successful person.

I cannot think of a time when I have needed a father more than I have in these past 9 months. I have gone through judgment, trials, physical and spiritual pain, I have sinned beyond anybody's lowest expectations (including my own).
I have needed help, comfort, hope, peace, provision and joy.
All the things that a father is there to provide (amongst other things).
It took me a while to realize how quickly God was working in me, and I've only just today realized that it's His Father's heart that's done it all. He has given me help, comfort, hope, peace, provision, and restored my joy full measure.

Yet, that Sunday morning, I still found myself crying my eyes out. Yes, for joy in His Fatherly Love. But also in sorrow. You see, I will never get to have that childhood of a Dad, and all the benefits a young lady profits from that. But even now I long so badly for a tangible fatherly figure to yearn to raise me up and guide me, and I'm tired of being ashamed of that.

Enough of Father's Day.
Next year I won't cry from sorrow, that's my goal.
My God is a Good Dad and the rest of this year, I'm sure that, as always, He'll prove Himself faithful in that.

Love&Joy,
JenessaMichele

Strong

my heart faints at the thought of Your great love for me. It skips a beat thinking of how much you would do, what you would give just to see me come home to you.

I am at the point in my year where I would normally say, "It's time to do something else!"
You see, around fall I get very antsy and I need to go somewhere and do something. I am very change oriented. I cannot stand to be in one place for more than a year. That can be a problem, but it can also be very nice. I do want to get away. But I only want to get away for a few days at a time. I really feel like by spring I will no longer be in Portland. I have a huge desire to impact this world and I feel like I finally have His blessing. I refuse to be a christian who is all talk, and no action.

Looking back at my journal from summer I realized that I died. No longer have I been living for myself but everything I do, and everything I am because I have relied on Him to be my strength. As the joy of the Lord, I realize that strength and joy go together. I am not a strong woman by nurture. I was raised to be weak, and bendable to my surroundings and the people I am around. But Jesus has changed me. I am not who I once was. I am the girl that has joy. I don't think that people really understand how much that really means to me to have the ability to honestly say that. It's a literal miracle to know that I have joy. I realize that the only reason I am able to say that, is because I have allowed Him to be my strength.

This summer started out ridiculous. I did so many things that I am not anywhere near proud of. I have since repented and moved on. The thing is, I allowed my own depravity to catch up with me. I allowed it to overtake me. I allowed it to mess me up and lose sight. I became a closet depression case. I didn't want anybody to know. I figured they would start talking about me again. I hate it when people talk about my iniquities. I don't like everyone to know.

I was born into a sinful world. I have sinned, but I am a princess. I was born of a noble birth. There is inheritance that runs deep through my veins, just as it did through Abraham, David, and Jesus. I am loved just the same amount that they were. I am worth it. I was not called to be a lowly handmaiden, but a co-heir with Christ. I know that. That is knowledge within me that will never be taken away. I am beautiful, kind, funny, and full of hope. But, you see, the only reason that I have the ability to say, even think anything that comes close to that...is because I have leaned on Him. I have been gleaning every piece of knowledge and wisdom that I can from Him. I have indulged myself in His word. I have stayed quiet for so long, if only to listen to what He has had to say. My boldness was taken away to be refined and changed. I will stand for the things that I believe in. I will not allow people to walk over me. I am a set apart woman that is standing up for the things that He allows me to.

I have had everything stripped from me, I have been told that I don't belong, that I am a burden and that I can't do anything right...all this summer.
BUT! I have a Father that tells me the exact opposite of that.
He tells me that I am gifted. I am anointed. I am wise.

I am strong...but only because He is my strength.