The Long (Drawn-Out, Never-Ending) Tale of Our New Home

I haven't written a blog post in an embarassingly long time. It's not for lack of trying. In fact, I was so certain I would have internet when we moved that I didn't even plan for NOT having internet. Honestly, I just assumed that there was internet EVERYWHERE. I mean, how could there not be internet 3 minutes down the road?

Anyway...

Long story short: life is unpredicatable. And sometimes a break from the World Wide Web is a necessity. Especially when you live in rural Oklahoma and you have to wait for AT&T to be in "your" area before you can actually use it.

Before I begin the long, drawn out, never-ending story of our first home-buying experience, I just want to say that God is so good to me. In all things. At all times. There is not a moment--not even one--where He wasn't or isn't concerned about my well-being or care. And, my friend, He feels the same way about you. You are loved so dearly by Him. So much so that He is more concerned about your needs than you are. This story is proof.

By the time you're finished reading this, you'll probably wonder if I'm crazy. But I can assure you that the following story is a true and real account of our journey to our new home.

And it all started after the Moore tornado.

I haven't lived in Oklahoma for that long. I'm going on 3 years in July. But I can tell you that when God created me, He always meant for me to end up here. I'm just grateful He didn't reveal His plan to me sooner than He did. I probably would have fought Him every step of the way. Because I was born and bred in the Sunshine state. Where it's always warm. And the weather is always predictable. And tornadoes are just some distant dream in another land. O.K. maybe I watched too much Wizard of Oz as a child. But that was my only experience with these beautifully tragic storms.

Now that I'm dealing with tornadoes, I've become somewhat awed by them. I mean, conditions have to be PERFECT for them to occur. Some cold front (or is it a warm front? I'm not sure) has to mix with a warm (possibly cold, I'm not a meterologist) front and then a bunch of twisting and turning happens and WHAM! a tornado touches down and unleashes its fury on Tornado Alley (and, sometimes, other parts of the world). I just happen to live on the outskirts of Tornado Alley. And have seen a wall cloud or two.

Sure, we could move. We could move to the coast line where there are endless threats of hurricanes. We could move north where snow happily sits on the roadside for 7 or 8 months out of the year. Or, we could return home to California and experience earthquakes (and ridiculous house prices). Wherever we choose to live, there will always be a natural disaster threat. It's why we bought a home with a storm shelter (PRAISE JESUS!).

After the Moore tornado (which I watched live on TV with tears streaming down my face), my husband decided that we needed to buy a home and put in a storm shelter. And I wholeheartedly agreed. We spent many weeks following concerned about our safety. And when a tornado touched down 7 miles south of us, we knew it was time.

So, I began searching and found a cute 2-bedroom house. It was central so I could continue to walk to Dollar Tree if the urge struck (which it rarely does). But there was a HUGE problem when we finally looked at the house. One room was flooded and destroyed from a rain storm. Disappointed, we set up a time with our Realtor to look at other houses.

We searched and searched. And finally found a home we really wanted to purchase. It was perfect, except it didn't have a storm shelter. We made an offer. They laughed at how low it was. We made another offer. They wanted significantly more. We decided to walk away because we felt the house was not worth what they wanted.

Two weeks later, the house next door was on the front page of the local paper. The occupants had been stealing video cameras, dvds and a myriad of other electronics. It was safe to say our decision to walk away was correct. Maily because we run a business where we are constantly handling expensive electronics before they go to customers. God faithfully steered our footsteps in another direction for our safety. The house sold one month later for the first offer we made. The offer the homeowner laughed at.

Soon after, we found a fixer-upper and immediately fell in love. It would need work but, then again, anything in our price range would need work. We made an offer. The bank that had it in a foreclosure sent it to auction mere hours after rejecting our offer. We told them we were interested in paying the full asking price. They declined. We hung our heads low as we continued on in our search. They sold it for $20,000 under our offer. Simply put: we're busy people. We didn't have the time to put into the house. Instead, it went to someone did have the time.

As we continued searching, a co-worker of my husband's asked if we would be interested in looking at his house. We agreed. Once again, we fell in love. Sort of. There was no garage and there was no storm shelter. But the house itself was lovely. And with the paperwork in hand, were devastated when his wife changed her mind. We held onto the hope for a few months that she would re-evaluate and then want to sell. It was at this time that I told my husband I just couldn't do it anymore. I was tired of getting my hopes up and then watching them fall. Besides, each house was better than the last. How in the world would we find something better?

I decided to take one last look on Zillow to see if there were any houses worth looking at. That's when I saw THE ONE. It was out of our price range, but I showed it to Kelly and he told me he wanted to look at it. Once I saw it, I knew we were going to live there. But I did my best not to let my hopes get too high. Instead, I just prayed. Without ceasing. For six months STRAIGHT.

I'm not joking.

I would wake up every morning and pray about it. I'd spend all day sending up little prayers, "If it's your will Lord..." and then petition for an hour before bed. And as I would fall asleep each night, I just knew that if it wasn't God's best for us, then He would lead us somewhere else.

When our offer was finally accepted in January, we were told we would have to wait another seven weeks to hear if the house was really ours. Seven weeks and one day later, we were told it would be ours in 28 days. Oh, and our interest rate as at an all-time low. I'm talking 3.7% here, people. It's a God thing. I'm telling you.

I packed. I literally packed everything. And as the day approached, I couldn't contain my excitement. 27 days after we were told the house would be ours, the bank that had it in a short sale accidentally let it slip into foreclosure. Our wait would be 11 days longer.

I don't know why God allowed us to wait an extra 11 days. Honestly, if I had to guess, I'd say He was testing me. He knew that I had come so far. I had put all of my hope and trust in Him. And I continued to do so. Because I know that God's timing is perfect. Whatever reason we had to wait exactly 11 days, I'm grateful for it. I'm grateful that God knows what He's doing. I'm grateful for patience. I'm grateful for the moments that are hard.

Most of all, I'm grateful God allowed us to buy a beautiful home.

Home Sweet Home

Every morning, my prayer is a little different. I no longer pray that God would allow us to get the house. Instead, I pray that God would allow us to use our home for His glory. That we may shelter the hurting and the aching. That we may welcome all in with open arms. That we may be a blessing to our neighbors.

It is my firm belief that if we do not use what God has given us well, He will give it to someone who will use it better.

11 months is a long time to wait for a home, but God led us to the perfect house. One with a storm shelter for safety, a 2-car garage for all of my husband's projects, and lots of open space for me to entertain all who enter.

Whatever rough journey you find yourself in today, remember that God's ways are different than yours. And so is His timing. Just pray, release and keep moving forward. God is good, my friend!

Jessica

The Check Mark Mentality

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I love our pastor's sermons. They are truly phenomenal, which means I usually spend my Sunday morning in a constant state of laughter and tears. While our pastor tells hilariously anecdotes, he is also very real and human. And his raw emotion oftentimes leave me reflecting on myself, hence the tears.

But I also love when we have guest speakers. I love that they have a completely different way of preaching and teaching. I love that God uses them to also evoke strong emotions in me, too.

This past Sunday, one of my favorite guest speakers came to our church. Brother Jeremy is a people person. He loves people and he loves to see them saved. It's evident by the way he interacts with others.

What I always love about his visits is that he reminds me how often I make my Christian walk harder than it has to be. And I'm sure you do the same thing sometimes.

Brother Jeremy calls it 'The Check Mark Mentality'. Did I pray today? Check. Did I read my Bible? Check. Did I do my devotions before bed? Check.

You get the general idea. Sometimes, we find ourselves tracking our progress based on check marks instead of focusing on what God commands us to do: love Him wholeheartedly and love our neighbors the same.

There are days where I'm unable to devote large amounts of time to reading my Bible. Naturally, we all have "Life Happens" moments. I love reading and I love studying, but there are busy seasons of life where I find myself unable to spend a lot of time in God's Word. It really bothers me. And so I begin going over my checklist. Did I pray today? Check. Did I do my devotions? Check. Did I do one act of kindness for a stranger? Check. Did I read my Bible? No check.

What follows that empty box isn't pretty. I beat myself up. I get cranky. I start to get worn out. But then I remember that God is, and always has been, more concerned about my love for Him and others than He is about the check list I mentally go over to track my progress.

“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:36-40)

Don't get caught up in "The Check Mark Mentality." Instead, focus on loving and obeying God. God values the fruits of the spirit--"love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23)--far more than He does your check list for living the Christian life prosperously.

Friend, God loves you. And with His love, comes a myriad of grace. When you falter, don't refer to your check list. Instead, open your Bible and read story after story of God's faithfulness to people just like you.

--Jessica

The Good Wife Chronicles: His Opinion of Your Beauty

I remember the night quite well. I was sitting around a table at Pizza Hut with several other people and my husband. Out of the blue, someone says very bluntly, "Jessi, since you've gotten married, you've really let yourself go."

I was stunned. The kind of stunned that left me speechless for the remainder of the night. I looked down at my jeans and sweatshirt. Then around the table. Everyone was wearing the exact same jean-and-sweatshirt combo I was. It was, after all, quite cold outside. And as I surveyed my cowboy boots, I wondered what in the world the person to my left was talking about.

My husband and I got into our car and I sighed. He asked what was wrong. 

"So-and-so said I've let myself go since we've gotten married."

Laughter. That's what soon filled our car. My husband laughing hysterically. 

"Why are you laughing?" I asked. "I'm bothered by this statement. I mean, I weigh less now than when we got married. My clothes are much nicer. I even do my hair before leaving the house every day. I don't understand it."

My husband scoffed. "Don't listen to him. You are more beautiful today than the day I married you." 

And because I know my husband cannot tell a lie to save his life, I knew that he meant what he said.

Here's the thing: sometimes people say cruel things. And though I was hurt by the comment, my husband's response soon made me realize that the world's view of me and my husband's are quite different. 

I never want my husband to stop telling me I'm beautiful. Because his opinion on my beauty--not the world's--means the most to me.

I too often believe that we allow the world to have the majority rule in our beauty. We allow the world to tell us that our jean size is too big or too small. We allow the world to tell us that our hair color isn't ideal. We allow the world to tell us that no one could love us unless we look perfect. 

But I've been married long enough now to know that my husband doesn't see my imperfections the way the world does. He doesn't notice the tooth that sits crooked in my mouth. He doesn't notice that I have one strange eyebrow that refuses to look like the other. And he doesn't notice that the top half of my body is a completely different size than the bottom half, which makes swimsuit shopping a nightmare.

Instead, he likes my smile and the way my eyes light up when I get excited. He likes that someday this body of mine will carry his children and then give birth to them. He doesn't see the imperfections. He just sees me. And I try every day to let his opinion on my beauty have the majority rule in my life. 

When your husband tells you you're beautiful, know that he truly means it. He did, after all, fall in love with you--your good and bad qualities. If anyone's opinion is going to matter, it should be his.

Your Wife-Friend in Christ,

Jessica

It's Still Good

Life is messy. The kind of messy that makes for sleepless nights and rough days. The kind of messy that a hot cup of coffee can't even solve.

Life is filled with both beautiful and hard times. And in the moments where it's hard to find your footing, where it's hard to breathe, it's important to remember that even though life is messy, it's still good.

If you find yourself in a rough season, keep the faith. Eventually, the storm clouds will pass and the sun will once again shine through.

A Trip Down Memory Lane

My mom and I were going through some things in the garage when she stumbled upon a beaten down box. She opened it up and pulled out a huge book. Inside were awards, accolades and letters from my years in school.

The book was quite intimidating, especially in comparison to my younger brother's. My parents handed down humor, charm, and likability to Zachary. He makes friends--and sustains friendships--far better than I do. He can easily entertain a crowd without much effort. And he's been hired after every job interview he's ever gone on.

My parents, in turn, passed along to me book smarts and the competitive need to always be the best. Neither of our personalities are better than the other. They are, simply, unique in their own aspects. While I can hang an award on the wall to show my achievements, my brother can hang a picture of someone who he fondly calls 'lifelong friend'. Though born into the same family, we are as different as night and day. And so are our talents.

As I was looking through old pictures and papers, reminiscing about the past, I came across my first published work in the 2nd grade. I opened the cover of the book (created in Mrs. Dillworth's 2nd grade classroom) and laughed when I read the 'About the Author' section I wrote at 8 years old:

"Jessi Samson was born and raised in San Marcos, California. She lives with her parents and has one brother. She illustrates all of the pictures that go with her stories."

I think from the very beginning I've always been a writer. It became even clearer when I read the lovely story entitled, "My Dog and the Cat Next Door." In this hilariously honest story, I made sure to mention that my dog liked to 'destroy the backyard' and that I had affectionately named 3 of the 4 kittens given birth by the cat next door, 'Funky, Spunky and Monkey.'

I laughed and laughed and laughed.

I laughed until I realized that those years--those defining years of my youth--were gone. They would never come again. They were lost somewhere in the past. And though I'm not interested in going backwards, I am--and will always be--enamored by the young version of myself who, in her first resume written at 6 years old, wanted to be a 'model' who did commercials and movies instead of the writer/teacher she is today.

No, I no longer want to be a model or tv/movie star. As I have grown, I have found a different passion entirely. My journey was altered too much to ever dream of being those things I once aspired to be. And I'm grateful for that. I'm grateful that God stole my attention. I'm grateful that I found a job that allows me to teach, share and learn. I'm also grateful I've never stopped writing.

I'm no longer the young version of myself that envisioned herself performing for the rest of her life. But my recent trip down memory lane has left me feeling nostalgic. And eternally thankful that my path has led me here, today, to the place I never knew I wanted to be.

A Letter To My Younger Self On My Birthday

Dear 15-Year Old Jessi,

This is a letter for you from your future self. If you have any doubt that it's really me, let me just remind you about that failing grade in Algebra 2. You act as if you don't care, but really, you're screaming out for attention.

Don't worry; in a few months, you'll realize that the only person you're hurting by not doing your homework and purposely failing tests is yourself. You'll turn it around and pass, but not before you ruin any chances of graduating with Honors. Yes, it will sting a little when all your friends are seated in the front row of graduation and you're 15 rows back. Thankfully, you'll manage to forgive yourself in due time.

I know that life is not what you imagined it would be. I'm going to say this with as much love as possible: your life will only get harder before it gets easier.

You'll struggle to buy your first car. Though you will ask for help from family, only one person will rise to the occasion to help you. And when Mom hands you the $500 you're short, you'll feel guilty because it's all the money to her name. But you will make it up to her. You'll take her to lunch every week and buy her a beautiful necklace to wear at your wedding.

You'll struggle to find yourself. You'll get your heart broken and wonder why you weren't good enough. Don't believe that lie. You should see the handsome man you're married to today! I can guarantee you that your small heartbreak will lead you to bigger and better things. You deserve to be someone's first choice. And one day soon, you will be. Take this time to find yourself. Write more. Cry less. Love more. Frown less.

You'll struggle to find you're calling in life. I would tell you what it is, but I don't want to ruin the surprise. My only advice to you on this matter is to take in every experience with fresh eyes. Take advantage of the opportunities sent your way. When you take that public speaking class in college, take notes. Lots of notes. It might be part of your job description later on in life. And when people suggest you should be a public speaker, don't laugh. Seriously. Do. Not. Laugh.

You'll struggle to love yourself. That's O.K. You will get there eventually. Go on lots of long walks early in the morning. Journal. Ask yourself the hard questions. Figure out what qualities you love about yourself and work on the qualities you dislike. Surround yourself with people who encourage you.

You'll struggle in your faith. You'll make some huge mistakes, but God will forgive you. He will lead you to a place where you will study under one of the greatest teachers you've ever met. He will teach you more about faith than you could ever imagine. His wife and nine children will become some of your dearest friends. And God will give you the opportunity to pour yourself into those nine little lives. It's very important that you don't mess up for them. So, mess up now. Learn from your mistakes. It's O.K. God is preparing you. Become a student of the Word. Become teachable.

And finally, you'll struggle to find compassion. Yes, it will nearly kill you to love the people who do not--and never will--love you. But it's important that you love them. It's important that you spend your hours praying for them, loving on them and adding something meaningful to their lives. It will be a big challenge, but when you finally let go and let God have his way in your heart, compassion will come easily.

There's a beautiful life ahead of you. Yes, you will face many trials and hardships that will shape your character, but when you finally arrive at this place that I am now, you'll be grateful for every single one of them.

In a few years, you will meet an elderly man who will challenge everything you know about life. He will tell you stories of his heroic younger self during the Vietnam War. You'll ask him a million questions and he will answer every one of them. Here's the important part: when he leaves, he will place his arm on your shoulder and with tears in his eyes profess, "Kid, you are going to do great things. Don't ever forget that."

This man will speak life into your future. His words will equip you with the confidence that you need to challenge yourself. So be extra kind and make sure you remember that moment. Because to this day, his words often come to mind when you are on the brink of giving up. You are destined for great things. You have been called to live a life so much different from everyone else's. And if it wasn't for the man with the tan baseball cap, you most certainly would have walked away from the great things God has called you to do.

Hang in there, the road gets bleakest right before the sun appears again.

Your Future Self,
Jessica

Encouragement for the Day: 'Content With That'

"For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that." 1 Timothy 6:17-18

I'm not sure how I ended up there, but I spent the better part of my morning coffee time looking at pictures of celebrities who had plastic surgery gone awry. From Michael Jackson to Joan Rivers, there's practically no one in Hollywood who hasn't gone under the knife.

Most people reading through the article probably would have laughed hysterically at the lengths people in the 'celebrity' profession go to achieve youth. I, on the other hand, just felt bad. Bad that these people ruined their natural beauty. Bad that these people believe the lie that youth is most desirable. Bad that these people don't seem to have a decent group of people in their corner telling them not to alter their physical appearance. Bad that our society isn't content with what they've been given.

Growing up, I never worried about my body, my hair, my face, or what clothes I dressed in. All I cared about was playing outside. I cared about hide-and-seek, riding my bike and swimming. But when you're a dancer, eventually you come to terms with the fact that you have to start worrying about these things long before you're supposed to.

My hair always had to be curled for recitals. Make-up always had to be put on. Sequins, glitter and tulle were the necessities of a young dancer's life. And of course I was trained very young to always put on a BIG SMILE as I danced around the stage in front of a crowd of people.

The little girl wearing make-up, large amounts of hairspray and itching from the sequins digging into her back felt so glamorous as the crowd clapped enthusiastically after a performance. But she was never more happy than when it came time to wipe it all off when she got home and run outside to play.

I never bought into the lie that we have to alter ourselves to be beautiful or accepted. I'm not sure why. Perhaps I had the right people in my corner. They focused on my internal attributes. Intelligence, talents, and wit. Sure, I had a few people mention that I was slightly chubby for a young girl of my age. But I never noticed. Honestly, I was perfectly content with who I was. I was--and still am--with all that I had been given.

These days, I'm surrounded by people who are focused on changing their outer appearance. And I'm fine with that if it's for the right reasons. The problem with altering our appearance is that we're trying to obtain an ideal that isn't real. We aren't content with the laugh (or frown) lines that appear on our faces the older we get. Gray hair is a reminder that youth is fleeting. And our bones and muscles ache more as we age. We become discontented with our lives based on one simple truth: we all grow older. Every one of us.

Yes, I'm still young and someday I, too, will have laugh lines, gray hair, and an aching body. But I know that I will be content with that. Because I prefer to age the way God always intended. Outer beauty fades, but the inner one never does.

If you're struggling to find contentment with your appearance today, remember that God made us all different. He dreamed us up long before we were even created. You were given much thought, dear friend, don't forget to love the body you were given.

--Jessica