The Journey Home
Hey there! If you’ve checked out some of the articles or encouraging posts on this website or our app, you’ve probably seen the name ‘Jennifer’ pop up. And you might be wondering, ‘Who is Jennifer, and why is she writing about God and life’s challenges?’ Well, I’m Jennifer, but you can call me Jenn. Pleased to e-meet you!
I’m here to share a bit of my journey and hopefully be a help to others navigating their own path to faith through life’s maze of difficulties. You see, my life’s story has been a roller-coaster of ups, downs, twists, and turns. It’s those experiences that motivate me to encourage others. So, let me give you a glimpse into my story and what fuels my desire to be a source of encouragement for anyone who might need it.
In my life, I have not been a stranger to hardships and sadness. My mother died when I was twelve, turning thirteen. After her death, I bounced from dysfunctional home to home until, at the tender age of sixteen, I left the chaos of dysfunctional families and struck out on my own. As an angry young woman bent on being her own boss, I created a lot of my misery. My moral compass, or the rules I lived by, were simply based on whatever felt good and made me feel ‘happy’. I felt I deserved whatever happiness I could carve out for myself—after all, I had been through a lot. If I’m honest though, I don’t think any of the poor choices I made trying to get happiness actually made me feel truly happy. All I found time and time again were temporary satisfactions and fleeting, empty, happy feelings that never were sustainable. Eventually, the bubble always burst.
The trouble was, the things I thought would feel good, (and often they did for a season), ended in a lot of pain and trouble. It would start off happy, and exciting, like a mouse taking its first few nibbles of the tasty bait in a trap. Nothing bad would instantly happen and if it did, it wasn’t a big deal. I could handle it. It would all seem to go my way and so, like the mouse, I’d take bigger bites until—SNAP!
In my life, it seemed I was always getting offered things. The offer of happiness in a new relationship with a hot guy or the promise of being popular with my peers if I measured up to their standard of approval. This standard was almost always some version of what we saw in the media. Then there was the promise of fun and adventure at parties where the cool kids were enjoying sex, drugs and popular music. Flexing my new fit and feeling cute or flexing any other outward possession that might make others jealous and think I’m cool. It didn’t seem like these were harmful things. They were the general behaviors of all my peers. Everyone was doing the same thing and most of those things were rites of passage. “A little rebellion to find one’s self,” even the adults agreed was normal.
The world never lacked temptations. The trouble always came after I allowed the hooks to sink in deep and the things I thought I had wanted led me to really rough roads with a lot of pain and sadness. The more I engaged in trying to find happiness by running from my pain and filling the holes that it left, the emptier I felt—even when it seemed like I got what I wanted. I remember living in an upscale area in New York with my best friend and her mother. We had a beautiful house. The kind that was in a development of nice houses. I wore trending clothing. Our family drove a new vehicle. I worked hard to become ‘popular’ and to ‘fit in’. Despite all the stuff I had going for me, I was still empty and hurting inside. The truth was bad things happened in nice houses. When making the right choices didn’t get me the attention I so desperately needed, I turned to making all the wrong choices until I finally got kicked out. This was a pattern that would happen repeatedly until, at the tender age of 16, I struck out on my own.
I would try to bury the discomfort of these wounds and move on to finding myself more happiness. Sneaking wine coolers at the pool hall or telling my guardian I was sleeping at a friend’s house so we could go to the dive hotel party where everyone was doing everything and all of it stupid. Sure, it provided my friends and I something to talk and connect around—all the drama and funny stories from the party, (you know, the… “can you believe so and so, he/she was so messed up” or “so-and-so are totally hooking up” etc.,), but that provided no real lasting satisfaction. Then there were the times I got so blitzed I made an enormous fool of myself and could hardly face people the next day. The inward cringe factor kept me up all night because I knew they were talking about me, and rightfully so.
Those choices would nag at me. I knew I was making poor decisions. That I was hurting myself and hurting others, but I would dismiss it and go a little further and a little further until choice by choice I would silence that voice of discomfort and warning until I would forget it was even there in the first place. Like the mouse… nibble by nibble… my confidence in wrongdoing grew until, SNAP! I was suddenly a self-pitying fool caught in the mess of my making. I had all the excuses too and don’t think I didn’t use my really tough life as my biggest ace in the hole as far as a get out of free jail card.
Having been raised a Baptist Christian; I had all but turned from a faith that seemed like a bunch of 300 plus year old dead guys conspiring on how to be a buzz kill for future generations. The list of “thou shalt nots” seemed like a metric ton of rules and expectations no one could live out (at least not in their own strength and power) and the “thou shalts” seemed pretty lame and boring. After all, I rationalized, the religious God I had grown up with didn’t save my mother from dying when I asked, so why should I worry about His lists? I don’t know about you, but for me, I doubted there is any God at all and it felt a lot better to follow popular beliefs that allow you to make anything up that feels good and to explain away any discomfort.
The years rolled on. I lived with an older co-worker while supporting myself in finishing up school. It’s funny how being your own boss with no parents to tell you “no” seemed extremely overrated, empty, and scary. All the lures of the world held great appeal, and I followed each desire until it ensnared me and ultimately turned to misery. There is a Bible verse that comes to mind, “you reap what you sow.” The simple meaning is, if in the natural world you plant potatoes, don’t expect a harvest of carrots or watermelon, right? And in the spiritual world, if you plant poor choices, don’t expect a harvest of success and good things. The thing I had never realized was that gardens never grow over night. You don’t harvest in the same season as you plant. So MANY of the poor choices I had made didn’t instantly catch up with me, but… I would eventually get a harvest, and it often wasn’t one I was too happy with.
Late in my wild teens, I began asking the deeper questions about life. I was angry. Who wouldn’t be? I had suffered a lot of loss and life seemed to hold a bunch of empty promises. I was hungry for something more than what mainstream media and iconic culture was offering. I tried on whacky mystical stuff and researched religions of the world. I went to psychics and read philosophy—there seemed to be some really smart things that different religious figures and leaders had contributed, but after following this way or that for a while, it was empty.
Eventually, maybe in honor of my mother, (a Jew that converted to Christianity), I read the Bible. Surprisingly, it made sense! More sense than even the feel good stuff I had been reading. In fact, I kind of enjoyed that it kicked my butt and revealed my character flaws. It’s not that my heart wasn’t sincere, but I was pretty alone on that adventure. My best friend thought I was crazy and kept challenging everything I said with something that sounded convenient from the Buddhist or New Age intellectual camp. My boyfriend of that time thought I was a buzz kill, especially when I stopped wanting to party. I was pretty much alone.
During my time of searching, I had a vision or an experience that forever changed my outlook. The church world told me that what I had experienced was not real, although they were thankful it brought me “back to the fold.” Ouch, that hurt! I had no idea that not every Christian interpreted the Bible the same way and for a season, that was where I hung it back up. Not because God had put me down, but a bunch of Christians that interpreted the Bible narrowly, didn’t validate me. Over time, God would use that too!
During my first marriage, I drifted from the Church and my beliefs. It wasn’t until just before my second marriage that I found my way back. But after that so-called “fictitious experience” and reconnecting with God, I struggled to live up to the standards of the Bible. I wanted God’s purpose for me, yet I also wanted to enjoy what the world offered. This was compounded by the fact that my experiences with church folks weren’t always positive. Instead of finding support, I encountered backbiting, politics, and conflict.
I was spiritually hungry, unaware of what was missing or how to satisfy that hunger. I had beliefs but lacked a true connection. I knew about God from a book, similar to knowing that fresh food is healthier than fast food but choosing the latter out of habit. I filled my time with friends, TV, work, relationships—everything but building a relationship with God.
The world seems pretty cool and let’s face it, in someway or another we are all drawn to it. I don’t know about you, but sticking out like a sore thumb because you’re “different” and being made fun of by your peers for being a “Christian” felt awful and wasn’t something I wanted to sign up for. So it was easier to tell myself that what I believed was just personal in my heart, while I continued on, not really reflecting it on the outside.
For a while in my life, I knew about Jesus. I knew about the Bible. I had until my mother died, spent much of my childhood in church and in church clubs. I had memorized scripture, attended prayer meetings, and my family had always been there whenever the church doors were opened. I had a good belief system, and I thought, a correct philosophy. None of it had seemed to make any difference in how I ran my life. See, I was STILL spiritually starving, but did not know what was missing or how to get food that filled my soul. I had a belief, but no revelation. If your physical body needs food to grow and be healthy, guess what? Our spiritual body needs the same!
In those days, I wasn’t making time to develop a relationship with God. I believed the right thing, but when I was hungry, I always made the choice that went against my head knowledge because I was comfortable in the patterns. I did what I was used to doing and ate from the world… after all, McDonald’s tastes good … at least, on the way down.
My head knowledge about God was a lot like teaching a kindergartner: 2+2=4 in math. A kindergartner can repeat a math fact, but until they understood what that really meant, it was just an empty accepted fact. Hand a student two lollipops for one hand and two for the other hand and we count how many we have in each hand and then how many we have all together in both—suddenly revelation occurs. There is something behind the concept! We’d rather have four lollipops than two. Empty knowledge is just that—empty. It doesn’t become powerful until we find its meaning. It is true in the natural world and its true in the spirit too. Until the revelation of a concept blooms within our heart and mind, it remains empty, no matter how much we talk or read about it. So how does that happen? How does religion become more than just empty head knowledge? How does it become a relationship?
Figuring out answers to those two questions was where I spent my late twenties and early to mid thirties. I had grown sick of the parties, broken relationships and the deep dissatisfaction I felt with myself and life. I considered myself a “Christian” but I was a lot like the kindergartner without two lollipops for each hand to help me understand. I had very basic understanding of God. It changed for me at around the age 27. I was in my second marriage and sick of a spiritual McDonald’s. I remember vividly walking into a church where I could just feel God’s presence in the room during worship. It’s hard to describe what that feels like, but it was pretty awesome and I hungered for more.
There is a verse in the Bible that talks about the fact that no one can know another person’s thoughts outside of the spirit that is within that person. Meaning, I don’t know what you are thinking and you don’t know what I am thinking, but we each have a spirit inside us that gives us an understanding of our own thoughts. It says that when we accept Jesus as our personal savior, God places within us His Holy Spirit who reveals to us His thoughts (1 Corinthians 2:9-16)! Whoa. Cool! During that time of my life, I finally met God, and what I found was a lot different from practicing rituals, memorizing scripture, and observing an empty religion.
What do I mean when I say I “finally meet God”? I mean, the Creator of this entire universe began showing up and revealing Himself to me. I don’t mean he waltzed in the room in physical form, I mean that suddenly, the things I read in the Bible took on new life and I was asking questions, getting answers deep in my heart, and the relationship that was growing went beyond having a little belief or faith because it became experience and relationship. It transformed me from the inside out.
Mathew 4:4 says, “It is written, Man shall not live on bread alone, but by every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God. The word “proceeds” is talking about a continuation. Great news—God hasn’t stopped talking just because the Bible is written! He continues to speak to us through His spirit, which, when we accept His son, Jesus, He places within our heart. That my friend, is a game changer. It is also why my journey home; back to the faith of my mother, prompts me to write to you. There is nothing, and I mean NOTHING, like experiencing God.
Getting to know God is a lot like getting to know anyone else; you have to invest the time. Just because you meet someone once or maybe you read their bio online or follow them on “the gram” doesn’t mean you really know them, even if you get a sense of what they are like from their platform. Likewise, you can’t just read the Bible and know God. You have to interact. Spoiler alert—having faith and relationship with God is something you practice, and it results in a changed life.
Many people have had it far harder than I have, but the hardest thing each of us has faced is just that, the hardest we’ve faced. For me, my journey getting to the place where I truly took the steps to know God felt long and tough and I had little support during some of the most painful and challenging times in my life, so I began looking for ways to lift other people up in whatever they are going through. Encouraging people is something I love because, just a little encouragement can go a long way. If you decide to engage with this page, just know I’m here to encourage you! He changed my life and He can change yours too. Take a chance on getting to know the creator who made you, loves you, died for you, and has purpose far beyond your own imagination. I promise you won’t regret it!
