Janet Rico Everett

Let's Tal

Now, What Was So Bad About Today?

by

I got scammed this weekend. I’ve been dying for a dog. A warm, big, cuddly ball of fur that I can wrap my arms around. You see, my mom died at the beginning of February. And then our little ball of fur of 15 years had the audacity to die two weeks after my mom. So I found a group that advocated “rehoming” our breed of interest, and found a perfect match. The hubs and I wanted to meet the sweet creature and see if she could bring back a ball before we forked over a hefty chunk-of-money. So we headed out crisply at dawn for Memphis…a 4.5 hour drive for us. Without going into the sad details, let me just say that there was no dog to meet.

Furious and betrayed but breathing in barbeque, we drowned our sorrows at Center Street Barbeque. Then we looked around at the cloudless sky, felt a warm breeze, and visited Lichterman Nature Center. And before we knew it, we were laughing at geese, feeding fish, and phoning kinfolks for dinner in Pontotoc.

Y’all, too many days, we allow circumstances to govern how our day will go instead of taking control of it and changing the narrative. How many days have we wasted by labeling them “bad” without looking beyond our moments?

Our Heavenly Father can take any experience we have and use it for our benefit when we invite Him to the party. He can redirect the focus, regroup the feelings, and redeem the function of whatever happened. And before you know it, you had a good day, after all.

Trusting In God’s Providence

by

Were you taught that if you want something, you had to work for it? Me, too! If we want a better salary, then we get a degree and qualify for a better job. If we want to take our family on vacation, we work overtime, do side jobs, or take on a second job to pay for it.

But what about providing for the unknown: the tornadoes that destroy your home, the wreck that you didn’t cause, the divorce that you didn’t ask for, or the diagnosis you aren’t prepared for? In your head, you understand that as God’s beloved child, He can help you, but do you believe this in your heart that He will? Are you afraid that God won’t provide for your needs unless you earn His providence?

“Providence” is a beautiful word for God’s business of caring for us. It refers to His maintenance of our life when calamity strikes, and we are left wondering what we will do.

God’s Providence is mostly mentioned by the first recognized pilgrims who journeyed from England and Holland to find a land where they could worship God freely without the fear of retribution. They mentioned God’s providence sustaining them, for without it, they had no way to sustain themselves in a wilderness peopled by natives who were at times benevolent and at times violent. Then as now, God worked to provide through people for tangible needs and by His Holy Spirit in an emotional crisis.

God’s providence comes in the form of community. You and I are part of His Body, the universal church, but we are also part of the community where we live. He has placed us in the exact area where we are to give and receive comfort from each other.

Watch what happens when a tornado’s forceful winds destroy homes and widens the horizon. Neighbors find chainsaws to get tree limbs and stumps out of the homeowner’s way, and the American Red Cross brings food, blankets, and people who will listen, or provide solace in a variety of ways.

Groups such as Eight Days of Hope alert Believers over the radio of a town devastated by fire, flood, or hurricane and the need for construction and feeding teams. God provides his care through the efforts of groups such as these.

God’s providence also comes in the form of individuals. Individual people volunteer their time because they have been so served and want to give back such as CARTI volunteers. These sweet souls come every Tuesday to assist cancer patients and their families by pushing wheelchairs, bringing in donuts for breakfast, covering patients with blankets whilst they take their chemotherapy, giving them a package of crackers and soft drink as a snack after it’s over, and always ready to give warm hugs.

People whose mission of choice is the local animal shelter also come ready to assist vets or the shelter director with food, clean litter boxes, or play with the dogs to keep them socialized. Because these individuals are drawn to serve by the compassion that lives in their hearts, God’s love is transmitted to others in need.

God’s providence comes in the form of His Holy Spirit. Some calamities are not obvious. The wounds cannot be deduced with any of the five senses, but they are real nonetheless. It is for these dark nights of the soul that our God gives us His Holy Spirit to comfort the hurt, to teach us wisdom, and ultimately give us healing.

To expect a believer to never experience disaster, tangible or intangible, is not a logical expectation. For if we cannot show a lost and dying world how strong He makes us because of His Spirit living inside us, how can we expect the world to want what we have?

God never, ever states that we will escape the lot that comes to all of the human race. What He promises, instead, is that we will never be alone (Hebrews 13:5). God’s Holy Spirit meets us where we are and provides what we need where no one else can reach.

Although car insurance is necessary in case of a wreck, an insurance settlement cannot temper the anxiety of getting into the driver’s seat again. No prenuptial agreement can provide the healing for a broken heart. Not even a brand new home can ward off the fear that rises at the sound of heavy thunder.

It’s only God’s love fleshed out in His body of believers and His Holy Spirit that provides a solid foundation of strength. It is there for the taking, dear sister. Take hold of God’s providence in all of the ways He provides it and let Him provide the peace that truly passes all understanding.

Written from my heart,

Janet

Making Room to Grow

by

What is more beautiful in spring than a spread of colorful blossoms to dispel the gloom of winter?  Nothing I can think of. But to have that, fall is the time of year for planting spring bulbs–whilst freezing my butt off! I went to the local Master Gardeners bulb sale and bought a host of bluebells, hyacinths, daffodils, and grape muscari. Then I made a made a plan of where to plant them based upon how tall they would be. I pulled all my shovels, trowels, rakes, and began working in the dirt dreaming of how gorgeous they would be in the spring.

And once again, it happened. My lovely dreams of pretty flowers were interrupted. You see, the Lord tends to speak to me when I am planting flowers.

Planting bulbs is not nearly as hard as planting spring perennials. I use my bulb planter to measure how deeply to plant the bulb and pull out a plug of soil before dropping in the bulb, making sure that it sits right side up. Then I drop the dirt over the bulb.

However, my one problem with planting is dealing with tree roots. Tree roots run in a maze of highways deep in the ground and steal the room, water, and nutrients from my new plants leaving me with wimpy stems and wilted leaves. To deal with them, I use sharp hand cutters, reach into the hole, and cut out the roots getting in the way.

And that’s when God begins to speak to me.

It turns out that the Lord has the same kind of problem with me. Whenever He intends to plant something new in my mind such as new dreams, new adventures, new opportunities, new relationships He wants me to make, or new places to go, He has a mess on His hands.

My mind is filled with a web of roots made up of activities I must get to, really bad self-talk, a paralyzing fear of failure along with a lack of confidence, a drive to rebel, and a desire to avenge those who have hurt me in the past. Growing something new in me becomes difficult because I hang on to these rotten roots. Plus, they become the barriers to my growth as a Christ-follower.

Just like tree roots I have to cut out in order for my bulbs to grow, I must give the Lord access to my heart so He can cut out the roots of busy-ness, bitterness, fear, rebellion or vengeance from my heart. Then He has the room to plant the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control (Galatians 5: 22-23) .

As I know the types of flowers to plant for Arkansas’s climate, the amount of sun they get, and the kind of soil they thrive in best, God knows the plans that He has for me. His thoughts, ideas, projects, and action plans are for my good, to prosper me, not to harm me, and will give me a hope and a future (II Chronicles 7:14). Letting go of all that stands in His way gives way to my growth.

Do you have opportunities where God speaks to you? I certainly don’t mean audible speech, but in your mind. What are you usually doing when He picks His time to speak? Are you driving? Washing dishes? Mopping or vacuuming the floors? What is he teaching you about Himself? Tell me about it sometime soon.

Written from my heart,

Janet

A Rocker’s Tale

by

It was just an old chair that rocked easily. I saw it at the Jackson House, a place where people send their unused or unnecessary furniture. It was beautiful with its nicks and scars–character marks, I called them.  I told Daddy that was what I wanted for my 16th birthday. I remember Daddy asking me, “Baby, don’t you want a new chair like that?”  No, I wanted this one.  I had a feeling that this chair could tell me a story if I listened hard enough

That cold Saturday afternoon in November, I brought home a bentwood rocker that Daddy paid $35 for at a consignment store. It sat in my bedroom right beside my stereo/record player where I played my Bay City Roller albums over and over again.  I rocked to the beat of their music as I dreamed of meeting them one day.

When my first boyfriend broke up with me, my rocker hugged me and rocked me while my broken heart wept, and I asked myself why he didn’t care for me anymore; what did I do to cause it, and how will I keep from making that mistake again.  Trying to gain some comfort, I put on my earphones and let the sounds of Barry Manilow’s ballads soothe my aching head and swollen eyes.

Running into my bedroom, my escape, my safe space, I fled from my father’s rage over inconsequential issues and jealousy towards my mother. I pulled my old quilt over me and rocked as if I were able to make the rocker move while it gradually felt warm and safe wrapped up, and I quickly fell asleep, so strung out with the tension of living inside  our house.

Loading it into Daddy’s truck, we hauled it to Ouachita that last summer school so that I could take courses that were not being offered in the last two semesters.  That summer, I was determined to do without an air conditioner, so each night, after I took a bath and washed my sweaty hair, I sat in the rocker in front of the box fan stuck in the window of Ouachita Apartments on the 2nd floor and attempted to dry my hair without heat.  Later that month, Phillip drove through Arkadelphia on the way to Mt. Ida and stopped off to have dinner and spend the night.  I took a picture of him sitting in the rocker cooling his pizza with the fan.

I didn’t want to fall for him; I did not want to fall for him. He was my friend and a good friend; okay, so he was my handsome, sexy, good friend…and that’s all he would ever be. Once more, my rocker held me during the prickly, steamy, Arkansas July evenings when I watched couples from my second-floor window run, squealing and laughing, carrying lawn chairs going to Lake Degray.  By then, when I had finished homework, I discovered that I could read a Harlequin romance in an hour and a half, so three books became my entertainment for the weekend.

Now that I was a working woman, I took my rocker to my first apartment: a 1940s brownstone with pine ceiling, pine walls, and pine floors, and 8-feet tall windows for plenty of light.  The first month was so lonely, so I was determined to call all the people I knew whose phone number was written in my address book.  The more I talked, the more excited I became, and the faster I would rock. At the end of the month, though, that $400 telephone bill caused me to stop rocking, and I chose not to repeat that little kerfuffle.

This…man with whom I just went out for the third time is sitting in my rocker!  Aaaaaand he’s about to break up with me. Great! Story of my life. Wait, what? Oh, he just wants to date casually since he just got out of a serious relationship. Well, I understand completely, and I…I feel the same way.  Now, how do I get him out of my chair?

(Casual, my foot.)  I don’t care where we put the rocker in our new apartment, I’m not giving it up.  He might be my husband, and he might be 10 years my senior, but I’m not a child, and I’m not giving up my rocker.  I always thought we were never supposed to go to bed angry.  Maybe I’ll rock awhile and pray…for him to not think he knows everything just because he’s older.  Maybe I’ll pray for me to have more patience, too.

Not again…Oh, Father God, not again.  My hips are sore from fertility shots. We did everything right this time!  All the pieces to the puzzle were poised to fit together. The only place I can sit where my hips will not rub against the outside is my rocker.  My Bible is open to Jeremiah 29, and I am seeking God with all. my. heart. to give me some answers, some direction, some hope, something.

Someone doesn’t want to go to sleep yet, but he’s soooo sleepy, and his little blue eyes roll back in the sockets so easily could his body give up the fight, but not my wee ginger boy! No? Well, let me introduce you to Mama’s rocker; Mama has rocked many miles for many reasons in this sweet rocker. Can you feel the smooth rocking motion, my little love?

“Sweetheart, all this furniture will never fit inside this house.  We have to sell some.”

“I suppose we have no room for the rocker, do we?

“Honestly, no. Besides, don’t you think it’s time to let it go?”

I’ve just said goodbye to my baby’s clothes; must I say goodbye to my rocking chair, too?  Only if the need for the chair is greater than my need for its presence.  Oh, someone is interested in the rocker, and she’s not quibbling about the price? That’s different! This is the one, isn’t it, Father?  A little one needs rocking, and she has no rocker.

My dear little bentwood, you were the dearest thing to me. You hugged me and held me and then held my baby.  No more babies are here for you, little chair. But a new mother needs you, so…off you go.

Just on The Other Side of Summer

by

It’s 0612, and I am just beginning to see sunrise peek over the horizon. I dreaded this summer, for I knew that I would feel like i was existing in a pressure cooker.

Our son, the child of so many prayers, went to Army Basic Combat Training at the tender age of 17 between his junior and senior years. 10 weeks, and 800 miles, y’all

My precious 90-year-old mother is no longer able to live independently at the assisted living where she had lived 5 years, so I had to move her out and find a nursing home near me. Did I mention that she struggles with hoarding? Yeah….

Her home in Hot Springs was attacked by an R.O.U.S. (rodent of unusual size, for all those non-Princess Bride fans). My Dearest Keith repaired the area 3 times. And we started the cleanout process to sell it.

Attempting to jump on the real estate gravy train, we continued to renovate our very first house in order to sell it. We finished 2 bedrooms with new paint and flooring and are looking forward to working on the bathrooms.
All of this has been so rewarding.

What did I learn? Trust and obedience are necessary to weather change. God reminded me that He would carry me through the deep, and he would walk me through the pain, bur i just didn’t want to. Now I’m on the other side. How did that happen?

He reminded me that he would do that for me every time, but I need to quit taking the easy way out, the path of least resistance. I won’t experience Him in the easy streets. I experience Him in the jungle, in the fear of the unknown, and He takes me there so that He can show me that He is a god who is able! And i will be a witness of His watchcare.