Jeanineredman's Blog

Remembering where I was on 9/11

jeanineredman — Sat, 11 Sep 2010 19:34:01 +0000

That morning I was at work at the funeral home with members of a military family who were in early before the funeral service of their father. I saw on aol news the report of the first plane hitting a tower and made a comment to some of them about it. They all immediately went on “alert” and starting making phone calls. As the second tower was hit, I heard them saying, “this is an attack”, “we’re under attack”, and I can’t help but still be amazed, that even for them in what they were in the middle of with their father, every one of their focus and attention went to the living and their role in saving life and taking their stand against evil. I think of that family every year today, and pray for their continued comfort as they remember their dad, but also thank God for their devotion and commitment to our country. I’m forever thankful for and grateful to the men and women of our military. God’s blessings to each one of you, today and every day!

The Story of My Tree

jeanineredman — Wed, 16 Dec 2009 18:36:53 +0000

I listened to a story today. It’s one that I heard earlier in the month as I put up my family’s Christmas tree. The tree speaks to me every year, but for some reason as I sat quietly in the early hours of today, I listened a bit closer and saw a bit deeper. I love my tree. In fact, it’s my absolute favorite part of the Christmas season. It’s decorated with ornaments instead of matching balls and at least for most of the ornaments, they trigger a memory and tell a story about where I was and who I was with when I got them. It has ornaments that were once my husband’s grandmother’s, ornaments that once belonged to our mothers, ornaments made by my mother, ones made by our daughter Jennifer when she was in grade school, ones that mark my first year of marriage, and Jen’s first Christmas. There are ornaments that I received from friends while I was pregnant and others received from employers that all bring back beautiful memories of our time living in Atlanta. I began collecting Disney ornaments for Jennifer while I was pregnant with her, and while in the past I have had a special tree for those that she now has at her home, I kept a few of my favorites for our family tree. There’s Belle and the Beast, because they represent my all time favorite movie…How can you not love a girl who is strong and intelligent and smart enough to see beyond the rough and gruff exterior into the heart of a real man and ends up loving both parts of him? There’s Pooh, Piglet and Tigger, because of the hours and hours we watched with Jen while they played in the woods. And Doc is on my tree too, because of all the Dwarfs, he’s the leader and I love him. There are several representations of the nativity and they share the true story of Christmas. I also have several crosses on the tree which remind me that although He came as a child, He left as a man having loved us unconditionally and completely…This Christ child…This Christ man…This Savior…my Savior.

I realized something else about my tree today. It’s a really good representation of me…the woman I have become and the little girl that is still so much a part of me. It has aspects of elegance and beauty, but with more parts of humor and whimsy and playfulness. Parts of it are traditional with strong roots in heritage, while parts of it hold something new every year with the expectation of what new memory will be made to fill a space for next year. There is strength and height that is shared with parts marked fragile and tender. And while all of this sounds like a convoluted mess that in no way goes together, it fits perfectly and the end result is priceless.

My tree tells the story of my life with my family…some memories or chapters better than others…some easier to remember than others…some broken pieces that were repaired but have a visible scar…so much love…so much laughter…some pain thrown in for good measure…so much life…It’s a beautiful tree and a beautiful story. I’m glad I listened again this year.

I hope you take the time to listen to your story this year….maybe yours won’t be told through a tree, but it’s there in your memories…if you listen, you’ll hear it. Maybe yours is being drastically rewritten…that’s ok too. Every tree needs to be pruned, and while painful, ultimately it’s for future benefit. I hope you join me in appreciating your past, living and fully experiencing your present, and looking forward with expectation to your future.

Merry Christmas!

Jeanine

The Giving of Thanks

jeanineredman — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 04:32:26 +0000

As another Thanksgiving season approaches, I’ve given quite a bit of thought to the things I’m thankful for. Besides the obvious of family and friends, I’m also thankful for new beginnings, new opportunities, new life lessons to be learned, new depths of self to discover, new paths to walk down, new struggles, new growth, new fears, new relationships and new conversations with those I love and with God. I’m looking forward to what He has to say and to what I have to live and experience. I have friends walking new roads and I’m thankful to have them in my life and to be able, even to a small extent, to walk this road with them. Some of life will be routine and predictable, but that’s ok. That’s life and the living of life. Some of life will be new and unpredictable, maybe a little scary as the unknown is faced. That’s ok too. I’m embracing both and choosing to be thankful for all of it…come what may. I hope you too will embrace what comes your way and be glad for the opportunity to live and experience all of it.

Another thing I’m thankful for is the day I had with my father as I finished typing his sermon outlines from the book of Matthew and looked ahead to the book of John. He has a deep love and appreciation for the book of John that is so clearly seen and heard as he shared life experiences centered around this book. As I pulled folders from his file cabinet, I came across a notebook I had never seen. It was the one he used in 1971 to take notes from his seminary class on the subject of John. I asked him about it and as he reflected about the class and his professor, deep love radiated from him. He marks that class as one of the highlights from his seminary experience and as he began to share the message from John, I could understand why. I’m looking forward to this book and to once again hearing from my Fathers the messages they will share with me.

Scars

jeanineredman — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 15:06:49 +0000

I’ve thought a lot about scars today, and the process of scarring. I have a few and it’s funny in a strange way that I can remember everything surrounding the obtaining of the scars. I don’t have the world’s greatest memory…just ask anyone in my family and they’ll laughingly agree. But, I remember with absolute clarity the things leading up to my scars. The first one happened when I was 14 and was attacked by a German Shepherd. I remember exactly what I was doing, who I was with and the rustling in the shrubbery behind me that caught my attention. I was standing in a woman’s yard with someone while he talked to her about Jesus when the noise in the bushes alerted me. I had a chill run up my spine as I looked over my shoulder and saw the dog in mid flight. He knocked me down, took a chunk out of my back and left vivid claw marks. The person I was with took me to the hospital, called my parents and stayed with me until they got there. I can remember asking the nurse if she had a mirror. I was curious to see what it looked like. She politely told me, “honey, you don’t want to see this.” I thought, “yes, I do”. Anyway, some shots and stitches later, we left the hospital to go home and I was told I would be fine. And I was …except for the panic attacks and the uncontrollable fear that would swamp me whenever I heard a dog bark in the distance. I’m almost 48 years old and to this day there are some breeds of dogs that put absolute fear in me. Others, I’ve learned to love and embrace, but I still get a jolt when I’m surprised by a dog or can hear one barking but not know where the dog is. Surprisingly, the scar from the bite is actually very small and I never think about it.
The second scar is actually a set of scars that I received after surgery to have my gallbladder removed. Again, these are just 3 very small scars that I see every day, but I never give any thought to them.
The other wound I have is still healing. It’s in process and I believe it will eventually heal completely. I think however, that this scar will be different from the others… as it should be since it’s not a physical scar. It’s an emotional one and a spiritual one. This scar will be big. I won’t see it, but I’ll remember I have it and how I received it. And I’ll work to make sure I don’t give or receive that kind of injury again.
I guess what got me thinking about scars was being with my Dad and seeing his deep scars from his brain surgery he had a couple of years ago. He has a history of blood clots and began having frequent intense headaches. After some tests were administered, it was determined that he had blood clots on his brain and surgery would have to be done immediately. I remember being with my parents at the doctor’s office while she shared the news. I was absolutely calm as she explained how this probably occurred and what the surgery and treatment would entail. I took them home, waited while my mom got some things together for my dad, and then drove them to the hospital. Dad had surgery and was in ICU for about a week. He came through fine, but he has two deep indentions in his skull. You can clearly see them. They are constant reminders to us of what Dad went through, how serious it was, and how thankful we are that he survived it.
I’m looking at my scarring process in the same way. It will be a reminder to me of what I went through, how serious it was, and how thankful I am that I survived it, well, that I’m surviving it. It’s a process I’m still in, and in all honesty, will probably be in for a while. But I’m getting better every day. I’m trusting myself again and I’m finding that I’m trusting God again too. I’m seeing things a bit clearer and I’m thankful for that.
When was the last time you looked at your scars and thought about how you received them? Maybe your memories will involve some laughter, some tears, some friends, some pain, some blood, some bad choices, some unfortunate consequences, some forgiveness. Any or all of these is ok and serves a purpose. Scars are part of life and the living of life. I like my scars just fine and I imagine once this new one completely heals I’ll like it too. It will be proof that I’m alive and living life….maybe in this instance, not making the wisest of choices, but living and learning and overcoming. I like that. I like it a lot.
I’ve recently been giving some thought to getting a different kind of dog if something ever happens to our chocolate lab…you guessed it…a German Shepherd. I kind of like the idea and I think it’s time.

The Making of Peace

jeanineredman — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 00:49:12 +0000

I spent a few hours today at my parent’s home continuing to work on my dad’s book project. I wondered what would speak to me from the Word as I typed more sermons from the book of Matthew. I didn’t have long to wonder. I was reminded of some basic truths from the teachings of Jesus and the beatitudes which are found in chapter 5…that whether I like it or not, I’m a peacemaker. I guess that started early on in my childhood with my mother asking me to make peace with my siblings, especially my older sister, and continued into adulthood in most of my relationships. I don’t like conflict and for the most part avoid it. However, over the years I’ve learned that confrontation isn’t the same thing as conflict and can actually lead to true peace. I think I have a much healthier approach to making peace as an adult than I did in my youth. Having honest conversations about sometimes very difficult situations can be extremely painful. However, I’ve learned that at times they are necessary. Expressing your thoughts, your feelings and your side, doesn’t mean that you’re not willing to make peace. To me, it says I’m willing to be honest, be vulnerable and help you understand me, hoping you in turn will help me understand you. Then, resolution can come. If necessary, forgiveness can be extended and peace can be created. There’s a promise that comes with being a peacemaker…blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. I’ll take being a child of God any day, and I’ll keep working at making peace. I’ve found for me, it’s a decision, a commitment, and a way to be obedient to God.

A Journey With My Father

jeanineredman — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 01:05:39 +0000

A few days ago I went out to my parent’s home to strategize with my dad on a book project for him. A good friend of mine from college, Stan Willis, suggested that I keep a diary of the process and the time spent with my dad. I thought it was a great idea, so this is my first entry. Thank you Stan.

My father has been in ministry for almost 65 years, most of which has been spent pastoring, loving people and teaching them from the Bible how to live life. He also spent 25 years as a professor at a seminary teaching others how to open the Word and share from that text what it means and how to apply it to life. We’re going to consolidate sermon outlines and publish some, develop a website and make these resources available to others. Dad is not in it for the money. He’s given more sermon outlines away than most preachers have sermons. He and my mother have everything they could possibly want, or the means to get it. It just so happens that they have never been the type to want a lot of things. I think he’s in it for the legacy, the sharing of what God has given him through a lifetime spent studying the Bible, living a life of faith and actually believing that what God says is true, regardless of what circumstances would say.

I’m looking forward to this journey. I’m looking forward to sharing special time with my father, but I think more importantly, I’m looking forward to seeing the Word from his perspective again and regaining some of the faith and belief that I have lost along the way. I’m hoping that my Heavenly Father speaks to me along this journey as well. It’s been a while since I have had an unwavering faith like my dad’s. I had it for a long time, most of my life in fact, and then life circumstances convinced me that I should wonder and question and doubt. So, eventually, I did. I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. I think after some real self-examination I’ve come to realize that I don’t have to be perfect for God to love me. I don’t have to earn His love by never doubting or failing. I can ask the hard questions of God and He’s big enough to take them. I’m hoping that during this time I hear Him giving me some of the answers. We’ll see.