Ignacio

One of my best friends, John, changed my life forever. He introduced me to Ignacio on January 10, 2009. Ignacio is the most romantic man I have ever met. I love Ignacio! I had watched Nacho Libre a few years prior. The first time I saw the movie I was 8 weeks pregnant with Elijanah . I feel asleep 5 minutes into the movie. It was not a bad movie. I just could not stay awake past 8:00 in the evening no matter how hard I tried. I did not realize what I had missed. I am saddened when I think of the years needlessly spent without Ignacio.

John and his two girls, my kids and I enjoyed Nacho Libre together on our first combined family movie night. It has now become a bi-weekly tradition. We’ve watched countless movies together, but Nacho Libre will forever be my favorite. I am certain, my friendship with John has been so incredibly easy simply because of our common love for Nacho Libre.

Though Roger Ebert disagrees with me, I am convinced this is one of the greatest movies of all time. I will never understand the mixed reviews. How could such a brilliant movie receive such terrible reviews? I was curious, and looked up the movie’s rating online at Rotten Tomatoes. They gave it a rating of “Rotten”. Only 57% of the audience polled on their website liked it. I was completely astonished. Of the individuals I know who have seen the movie, there is no indifference. They are either hot, or cold. There is no lukewarm love for Ignacio. They either love Nacho Libre or they hate it. They either understand the offbeat humor, unique pacing, and underlying themes, or they miss it altogether.

Regardless of the reviews, I and all of my close friends believe Nacho Libre is brilliant entertainment. The casting was phenomenal. I would love to see the casting call. Just look at the faces of the native Mexicans. There is an authentic feel to each individual character. The script is well written and hilarious. The music for all sakes and purposes is Beck! What more could one listener ask for? I own the soundtrack! It’s that good. The sets were extremely colorful with small details scattered throughout each scene. Not many movies hold my attention, to include most movies which receive two thumbs up and fantastic reviews. Nacho Libre held my attention from start to finish. For me, my favorite element of the movie is Ignacio. Jack Black is okay. Ignacio is the man of my dreams.

The character, Ignacio, a Mexican Catholic Priest by day, and a masked luchador by night named Nacho Libre wrestled my heart to the ground and captured it simply with his nucleus, his core . It was not his fancy expensive clothes, nor his white leather boots. It was not his stretchy pants, but the essence of Ignacio that won my heart. I had to find out more about this man, Ignacio. I discovered on Wikipedia, the place everyone goes to get the facts, that his character is based upon a real man, Reverend Sergio Gutierrez Benitez. Sergio had a secret. He was Frey Tormenta! Like Nacho, he competed for the orphans, his orphans.

Ignacio’s mother was a Lutheran Missionary from Scandinavia. His father was a deacon from Mexico. They tried to convert the other, but instead got married. He came to the monastery as a young orphan after they died. Ignacio remained at the monastery as the cook. Throughout the movie he is seen as the picture of a servant, truly shepherding and caring for these orphans. In contrast, the stanch religious priests mistreat him and seem to care very little for the orphans. Ignacio serves the typical daily slop to one of the children. The child asks, “Can’t we ever have like a salad or something?” Ignacio, knowing there is no money for anything more than what he has prepared, replies, “Be grateful, Juan Pablo. Today is especially delicious.” One day as he is leaving the market with a bag of chips for the orphans he is mugged. The chips are stolen by a man who claims to hate all the orphans in the world, Esqueleto. Ignacio's love for the orphans, desire to care for them, and hope to give them a better life provokes Ignacio to become Nacho Libre by night. He finds the chip thief, Esqueleto and asks if he would train him to be a luchador. Wrestling is forbidden by the monastery. In Ignacio’s mind this is the only way to provide the orphans with better nutrition. Ignacio is not purely a saint. He is also a man. He has secret passions for the tutor, Sister Encarnacion. He has hopes to win her over as he provides for the orphans. Ultimately, through a series of events his true nucleus is revealed. He faces hardship and rejection. He’s forced into the wilderness. His love for the Lord and the orphans is a transforming agent to the hard hearted, orphan hating, non-baptized, Esqueleto. In their final fight, Esqueleto prays with Nacho, and asks God to grant them favor. The underdog wins. Ignacio uses his winnings to adopt all the orphans and buy a bus. He, Encarnacion, and Esqueleto take the child on trips to see new places, and experience the world!

I realized there are two contrasting sets of the heart revealed in this movie. Ignacio’s heart is easily seen in his love for the orphans. The other heart is much more subtle. The priests are devout. They oversee the monastery. They attend and direct Mass. They are seemingly devoted to the Lord’s work. However, they are spiritually aloof, placing themselves as the elitists in the monastery system. They are there to be served, and not necessarily to serve. They show little concern for the orphans. Their primary concern is conforming to the religious system. This sounds very familiar to the Pharisees in Jesus’ day.

As I skimmed through the Gospels in my mind, I realized the same theme in Nacho Libre revealed itself in the life of Jesus Christ, and His disciples. In Matthew 25, in verse 31 Jesus prophetically shares a scene that is to come during the End Times; when the Lord judges His people, separating those who are His sheep, blessed by the Father from those who are not. He says to those who are His people, “Come, take your inheritance, and kingdom that was prepared for you. For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was lonely, a stranger and you invited me in. I was naked, and you clothed me. I was sick, and you looked after me. I was in prison and you visited me.” To which the righteous replied, “Lord, when were you all these things, and we responded to you?” Jesus said, “Verily, when you did these things to the least of my brothers and sisters you did these things for me.” Jesus then turned to the wicked and said, “Depart from me, you who are cursed to the place reserved for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry, thirsty, lonely, naked, sick and in prison. You did nothing for me.” They never saw the least of these. They never took the opportunity to share love with those in need. This reminded me of another scene from the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew, chapter 7. Jesus said, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of Heaven, but only he who does the will of the Father in Heaven. Many will say to me in that day, ‘Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and performed signs and wonders in Your name?’ And I will declare to them, “I never knew you. Depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness.”

Jesus gave us two commandments, love God and love one another. He came to share love and show us how to love. All the religious rules could not make man right before God. Jesus’ disciples got it. They fed the poor, took care of widows and orphans. They visited those in prison. They shared the Good News with everyone. They prayed for the deaf, lame, and blind, FREE OF CHARGE. They didn’t peddle the Gospel of Truth for profit. They served. They did not take the best seats at the party. They understood the Heart of the Father was to edify others, and lift others above themselves. They understood what it was to be and live as a humble servant, serving the Lord as they served those less fortunate than themselves. They understood the dynamics and economy of Jesus’ Upside Down Kingdom. Ignacio was patterned after this heart. In the end, Esqueleto, the orphan hating chip thief, experiences redemption and has a change of heart simply because he saw the goodness of God in Ignacio’s life. On the other hand, just as the Pharisees of Jesus' day did not understand the second half of what Jesus commanded, neither did the priests in Nacho Libre. They were devout Catholics. They loved Jesus. They served Mass, and taught the orphans. However, they hated and cursed Ignacio and the orphans with their actions and indifference. Sadly, just as the Pharisees missed the Kingdom of God, so did these priests. All the devotion and religion, good works and penitence could not buy the Kingdom or favor from the Lord.

Nacho Libre leaves me with deep thoughts and a desire to be found faithful and obedient to the fullness of the Father’s commandments. Many of us claim to love Jesus, love God. We write songs about our love for Him. We spend countless hours in prayer and the Word of God. We go from meeting to meeting hoping to be filled with His glory. In John 14, Jesus said, “If you love me, you will obey my commandments.” He demands we love others. It is not an option. It is not a suggestion. If we fail to live a life full of love for one another, yet we claim to be passionately in love with Him, we lie. The only one effected by this lie is our self. We can be religious about our devotion. We can do all the right things in worship, learn great biblical mysteries, memorize bible verses, know all the right Charismatic leaders, or reformed Bible scholars, prophesy, speak in tongues, write books, create new sounds all for His Kingdom. However, if we never grow deep in love and move past lawless (loveless) religion to what James, the Brother of Jesus, called pure and undefiled religion caring for orphans and widows in their time of need, we will unfortunately miss the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom of God is made of such as these, “Little children, and the least of these.”

I want to be like Ignacio, full of love for the orphans.



Grace, She Carries the World on Her Hips

This coming September, it will have been ten years since I found out I was going to be a mother. It was a very exciting time in my life. I was a newlywed. We had been married a little over 6 months. I had a job I thoroughly enjoyed, and was serious about pursuing a career in accounting. We had discussed not having children for a very long time. We were on the eight year plan. However, the news of a baby was very exciting. At that moment in time, I could not begin to imagine life as a mother.

I had my heart set on a little girl. I found myself in the baby section at Target. Somehow my eyes would navigate toward the pink. I would peruse The Children's Place, Gymboree, and Baby Gap. Automatically my feet would take me to the little girls' section. I would see mommies with baby girls and my heart would melt. I wanted a baby girl. I wanted to dress her in pink ruffles. I wanted to put bows up in her hair. I wanted darling shoes on her feet. I wanted a pink stroller and matching pink car seat. I wanted pink blankets and pink teddy bears.

I spent months hoping the baby would be a girl! I started having preterm labor at 20 weeks gestation. An average pregnancy ends at 40 weeks. The baby was only about 14-16 ounces. Being born at 20 weeks is fatal. Every week prognosis increases slightly. A baby born after 28 weeks will typically do well after months in the NICU, on a respirator, under heating lamps, and attached to a feeding tube. A baby born after 33 weeks can do very well. Babies born after 36 weeks have the best chances at a healthy hospital stay and typically go home when Mommy is released. This little baby needed to stay put. The day the preterm labor began I went in for an ultrasound. The first time I saw the little peanut, the baby was about the size of a pea pod. This time we could see baby yawns, grimaces, and thumb sucking! We saw a healthy baby. The technician asked if we would like to know the baby's gender. I just knew the baby was a girl. Her name was going to be Grace! The technician remarked, "It's a boy!" I thought to myself, "No, that must simply be the umbilical cord." I continued to live in denial. I had a few more ultrasounds. Every time I would convince the technician to take a look at the gender. I really thought each time they saw the umbilical cord. I was in denial.

Of course I knew in reality this little baby was a boy. But my heart was set on Grace. The little boy's middle name, John, would be as close to Grace as I would get! Tim despised the name Grace. He couldn't understand why the name was so dear to my heart. So I settled in my heart since John means God gives grace, that His grace is more than sufficient.

Shortly after the 20 week ultrasound, I had a dream. In the dream I was sitting in a white kitchen spoon feeding the most gorgeous baby girl. She had dark curly thick hair. Her eyes were the most brilliant green. Her complexion was fair and beautiful. She and I giggled as I fed her some cereal. I knew her name was Grace. She was Grace. I wanted Grace.

16 weeks after the ultrasound Timothy John Barry II made his debut via c-section. He was breech. He was the most handsome baby I had ever seen. I don't remember much about his delivery or the first couple of days after he was born because of the morphine. The few things I do remember will be forever etched in my memory. I remember the first time I saw him. They lifted him over the sheet that thankfully impeded my view of them cutting open my abdomen. I still remember the way he stretched, squeezed his eyes tight and pursed his lips together. It was the most precious look I had ever seen. He began to cry as they laid him on the heating table. The only other thing I remember is the Midwife commenting that my uterus was the most incredible uterus she had ever seen. "Why thank you, Doc! No one's ever complimented me on my uterus!" I am sure they tell all the c-section mommies that! She also said, "Lenee, the scar is going to look fantastic! I made sure we did a little incision. No one will even notice it!" I thought, well, I should hope not! I could not imagine myself showing off my incision to just everyone.

After a couple hours in recovery, I was wheeled to my room. Timmy had been taken to the NICU because he was 4 weeks early. He had low blood sugar. He was also having a hard time keeping his temperature up. I arrived to an empty room. I was eager to see the little baby. The nurse convinced me to get some sleep. Considering the excitement it was easy to fall asleep. A few hours later a different nurse woke me up, and laid Timmy on the bed. I looked at him, and said, "Okay, and.... now what?" She replied, "Well, you can hold him. Don't worry it will come naturally. Call us if you need anything." I thought, "Yea, I need help! I have no clue what to do!" I finally got up the nerve to pick him up. Believe it or not, I did not break him! The nurse was right. It comes naturally. In those first moments I experienced God's grace in a real life tangible way. I did not deserve the gift I received in Timmy. I realized as I looked at this fresh, perfect little baby boy that God gives GRACE. God gave me Grace. It was not what I expected but it was His grace. He gave me what I did not deserve. I did not earn the right to be a mother. He gave me a precious gift.

I did not realize how God would lavish me with grace over the next decade. Five children later, His gift of grace has proven more than sufficient. I was 16 when my mom sat me down and explained I would probably never have children naturally. Now, when I lose my patience, all I can do is laugh because I was not supposed to be able to have these children. They are His gifts, His grace in my life.

Through the children, especially in this season as a single mother, I am becoming Grace. I am learning to take everything in stride. I am learning to lean on the Lord as His love and grace breaths life into my heart and body. I am learning that Bono's rendition of 'Grace' says it all. This song is the reason why I wanted a baby girl named Grace. It is the most beautiful song I have ever heard.

Grace
She takes the blame
She covers the shame
Removes the stain
It could be her name


Grace
It`s a name for a girl
It`s also a thought that
Changed the world


And when she walks on the street
You can hear the strings
Grace finds goodness
In everything


Grace
She`s got the walk
Not on a ramp or on chalk
She`s got the time to talk


She travels outside
Of karma, karma
She travels outside
Of karma


When she goes to work
You can hear the strings
Grace finds beauty
In everything


Grace
She carries a world on her hips
No champagne flute for her lips
No twirls or skips
Between her fingertips


She carries a pearl
In perfect condition
What once was hurt
What once was friction
What left a mark
No longer stings


Because grace makes beauty
Out of ugly things


Grace finds beauty
In everything


Grace finds goodness
In everything


Now more than ever I am thankful for grace. His grace as become my way of life. I have become Grace in a sense. The past decade has been exceedingly challenging. It was heart wrenching. However, it was the trials of the past ten years that have set in stone my need for His grace and love. I would not trade my six blessings of grace for anything. Perhaps I could have avoided most of the pain experienced. However, I know I would have missed the point of His gift of grace had life been nearly pristine. Grace is a beautiful thing!

I still dream about the fair skinned, dark curly haired, green eyed chubby little girl named Grace.

Jesus, Hold me Together

Fairly recently, I heard a message illustrating Christ's cohesive nature as the protein molecule Laminin. In simplicity it is the fundamental protein created to hold most cells, tissue, and organs together. It is much like cellular glue. It's chemical makeup resembles a cross. Louie Giglio used it to illustrate the function of Jesus in unifying believers, but also in simply holding together creation. He came under criticism by Dr. Purdom with Answers in Genesis. I understand her criticism. She believes it to be demeaning to God, the Creator, for believers to use something created to express His divine nature. While this seems rational, I strongly disagree with her statement. Truthfully, I believe the spirit behind her statement was that of contention.

Louie Giglio's message has been well accepted, and in fact changed lives, and brought the truth of the Gospel near hearts. While I respect the work of Answers in Genesis it is my firm belief that edifying and building up the body through encouraging "competing" ministries would be much more beneficial for spreading the pure Gospel.

Now that I have opened a can of worms, I would like to share something that has absolutely nothing to do with Laminin, Louie Giglio, or Answers in Genesis. I just wanted to bore you to death by sounding like I knew something clever. I, in fact, know nothing at all! All I know is 'Jesus Crucified', and He is alive. Do I really care about what Dr. Purdom or Answers in Genesis has to say about others in the body of Christ? Not at all. Truthfully, the laminin molecule is pretty neat. I did get goose bumps listening to Louie's message. God is above all things, and will use all things. I do not discredit what Louie shared. I think it was fabulous. His point was simple, Jesus not only has the whole world in His hands. Jesus, the Gospel holds all of creation together. I get excited when I think about that. But why? Because Jesus holds me together. That is why I do not care to hear Dr. Purdom's criticism of his message and ideas. Yes, she is entitled to her own opinion. But believe me, Dr. Purdom, with all due respect, I do think Jesus, God Himself is quite big enough to not take offense to Louie's illustration. I know my personal Jesus would honestly think Louie's idea to be incredibly neat.

"Jesus, hold me together!" Last night I had a conversation with a sweet friend about the pure essence of the Gospel, Jesus. Jesus is the Gospel. It is the Gospel which holds me together, keeps my heart steady. Jesus holds me together. Without the pure essence of the Gospel, the Word of God, Jesus, I would be falling apart. It is a complete mystery that I am where I am in my life and doing as well as I am at this moment. I am a single mother of six fantastic children under the age of 9. Not only are we surviving, we are thriving! My Jesus is holding me together. Not only are we breathing we are singing! My Jesus is holding me together. Not only are we moving we are dancing! Because, why? My Jesus is holding me together. Without His Word in my life, without the Gospel in my life I would be dead. To me death is surviving, barely breathing, and simply moving when I could be dancing! My Jesus is holding me together.

One of my favorite Psalms is 73. I was reminded of verses 23-28.

25 Whom have I in heaven but You?
And there is none upon earth that I desire besides You.
26 My flesh and my heart fail;
But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

27 For indeed, those who are far from You shall perish;
You have destroyed all those who desert You for harlotry.
28 But it is good for me to draw near to God;
I have put my trust in the Lord GOD,
That I may declare all Your works.

Without my Jesus, I would perish. Without the Gospel, I would starve to death. Jesus speaks the truth when He said, "Eat of me. For I am the bread of life." The Gospel is the LIFE of Christ. The Gospel is the very bread of LIFE. The Gospel is Jesus. He is my portion. He holds me together, and sustains my life. He strengthens me. Without Him, I would be dead. I am a single mother of six under age nine. I would be perishing, starving, dying.

I cry, "Jesus, hold me together." Does my Jesus have an answer? Does the Gospel give any riposte? His comeback is always, "Trust me." Is the Man wrapped in the Gospel trustworthy? I have found Him to be more than faithful because He has held me together with His everlasting kindness and love. There is no other hope but the Gospel Man, Jesus.

Psalms 33:18-22

18 Behold, the eye of the LORD is on those who fear Him,
On those who hope in His mercy,
19 To deliver their soul from death,
And to keep them alive in famine.

20 Our soul waits for the LORD;
He is our help and our shield.
21 For our heart shall rejoice in Him,
Because we have trusted in His holy name.
22 Let Your mercy, O LORD, be upon us,
Just as we hope in You.

Dear friends, it is a mystery that the children and I are doing well. Simply, Jesus holds me together. Dr. Purdom, with all due respect, I completely disagree with your heart felt criticism. If God can use a little molecule to illustrate His life giving nature, sustaining grace, who are we to argue with Him?

If you are interested, this is a clip from Louie's message.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_e4zgJXPpI4

Hephzibah, My Delight is in Her

My sweet friends, God does not cause sorrow. Living in a sinful and fallen world causes suffering. Sometimes the response to poor choices is sadness. God gives life, and life abundant. It is mankind's depravity that leads to death. Neither our generation, nor the generations before us have received a world of perfection. Nor will we bestow upon our children a perfect life. However, we have a God who takes great pleasure in fixing broken things, healing wounds, creating beauty from the ash heap, growing gardens where once there lay dead rose bushes, establishing rivers in the desert, turning water into wine, breathing life on dry bones causing them to stand up and put on flesh and return to grieving wives and children, collecting tears in bottles and restoring everything that has been stolen. This is what my God does. He does not repay evil for evil, for He knows the day of wrath is coming. Rather, He speaks a message of Faith, Hope and Love. He desires to be a safe place, a place of rest and refuge for those who are castaway, beaten, forsaken, and forgotten. He did not cause your pain. He is not punishing you for disobedience. Disobedience warrants its own consequence. He does not purpose disaster in our lives to draw us to His breast. But He sees the roads and paths we choose and He has a plan to do what He does best, move us to a safe place of peace and rest.

Three years ago I would have told you that God purposes all things in our life to draw us to a place of relent and surrender. But it is not true. For that would mean that He causes disaster. There is a fine line between that and what I have stated above. It took three years of craftily trying to manipulate the love of God beckoning my own will above His to realize His will for my life is far better than any fantasy I could dream up. His will for my life is His delight.

Her name is Hephzibah. She is beautiful. She is the woman every woman wishes she could be and every man finds to be a mystery. She is you, my friend. It is not her pristine garment, nor her precious gemstones set in pure silver and gold placed upon her head, neck and fingers. It is not her perfect hair, or brilliant complexion, nor is it her figure that never seems to change regardless of how much dark chocolate she indulges. She knows to whom she belongs. She knows her name. And she knows she is His delight. Her name is Hephzibah Beulah, meaning, "My delight is in her, I AM her Husband".

This is not the life you would have chosen. No one walks down the isle on their wedding day planning their divorce. No one sees it coming. Maybe after the fact we look back and say, "I saw it coming. I should have known better." But in reality, on that day, it is usually the furthest thing from our minds. For those of us that did sit in the Bride's room and think, "God, is this really the life you have for me?" It was a fleeting thought that was quickly tucked deep into our hearts becoming a dirty little secret we hoped would never be found out. At any rate, we found the composure to grab our Daddy's arm, or for me, my Daddys' arms and walk down the isle, only to be given away to men that would someday cast away, beat, forsake, and forget us. We kiss the soon to be betrayer, turn to be introduced for the first time as MRS, and run out of the Church with high hopes of beginning our happily ever after.

Days, weeks, months, years, memories and children later you sit in a room alone, with truth and lies. You remember the frustration of sorting truth from lies. Anger storms open the door and kicks the boxes that have been sorted. Eventually you deal with anger. Again you begin sorting truth from lies. Denial waltzes in the door, glides across the floor and whisks you out of your seat. The sorting is forgotten. The dance with denial is as short lived as the romance with the betrayer. The boxes of truth and lies begin to pile up once again. Eventually the truth is sorted from the lies, and depression stealthily cracks open the door, and enters without welcome. And thus begins the fight to leave the bleak room full of boxes of truth and lies.

I am not sure when exactly depression entered that old bleak, white washed, drab room. Depression is a sneaky one. I think it was shortly after learning of Tim's affair in May of 2007 that I felt it's cold grip upon my shoulder. A chill fell across my heart, and life seemed dim and bleak. Depression offers many solutions to liven up one's countenance. There are drugs and alcohol, elicit sex, food, bad relationships, self hatred, and many others. For me, I had no place to run, and no place to hide. I ran to my Jesus. Here's the truth, Ladies. The only reason I ran to my Jesus was because I knew He was the only One that would not hurt me. How did I know this? Because He and I had developed a history of TRUST. I knew that I could trust Him.

Believe me, though I knew I could trust Him, I fought and tried to craftily manipulate His love to produce my own DESIRE and DELIGHT! I had my mind set on restoration with a man that was completely untrustworthy, manipulative and a heart that refused to surrender itself to the Lord's authority. Looking at it now I wonder why I fought so hard to save something that was death to me and my children. Perhaps it was pressure from the Church, well-meaning friends and family. More than likely it was my idea of perfection. I am a child of divorce. I desired to live the rest of my life with my husband and the father of my children simply because that would be perfect! God's idea of perfection is not my idea of perfection. After taking Tim back with little more than a faint "I'm sorry. It won't happen again." I discovered I was pregnant with our sixth child. Four months later it was obvious Tim's delight was not in God, me or his children.

God rescued me from that empty room full of lies mingled with truth. In the period of one weekend God ransomed me back from a man that stole my heart and broke it and I found myself 1500 miles away from where the crime was committed, safe in my parents' home. It was evidence to me that God is a God who is faithful, and good. Therefore, He is a God in whom I can and will trust. Through the series of not short of miraculous events the depression lost its grip on my shoulder simply because God is faithful, and I chose to relent to His faithfulness. God also placed faithful friends and family in my life to carry me through the darkest days. He is a God who DELIGHTS in me.

So you say I think it's all about me? No, sweet friend this is all about you. You are no longer forsaken. Your husband left you but that does not mean you are deserted. Your children are not cursed because they have been tossed aside by the man who was meant to protect them. There is One more faithful than the best husband in all the earth, and He delights in you!

I recently read a verse in Jeremiah 8. The Lord declared to the ancient nation of Judah shortly before Jerusalem was destroyed that because the men rejected Him He would take their wives and their lands and give them to other men to enjoy. God said, "Hey, since you don't like what I've already given you, and you've broken the promise you made with me, and the promise you made with your wife, here's what I'm gonna do. I'm going to let you go do what you want to do. But I'm going to take your wife, the woman you asked me to bring into your life, the woman you decided was not enough, and I'm going to give her, her children, and your property to a man that will take delight in the gifts I intended originally for you."

You say, "But Lenee, where is this man?" Friend, this Man is God. He is Jesus Christ. This is what He promises to you in Isaiah 54,

"4"Fear not, for you will not be ashamed;
be not confounded, for you will not be disgraced;
for you will forget the shame of your youth,
and the reproach of your widowhood you will remember no more.
5 For your Maker is your husband,
the LORD of hosts is his name;
and the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer,
the God of the whole earth he is called.
6 For the LORD has called you
like a wife deserted and grieved in spirit,
like a wife of youth when she is cast off,
says your God.

He continues to say this about you and your children.

13 All your children shall be taught by the LORD,
and great shall be the peace of your children.
14In righteousness you shall be established;
you shall be far from oppression, for you shall not fear;
and from terror, for it shall not come near you.
15 If anyone stirs up strife,
it is not from me;
whoever stirs up strife with you
shall fall because of you.
16Behold, I have created the smith
who blows the fire of coals
and produces a weapon for its purpose.
I have also created the ravager to destroy;
17no weapon that is fashioned against you shall succeed,
and you shall confute every tongue that rises against you in judgment.
This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD
and their vindication from me, declares the LORD."


Friend, these are the things that got me through the darkest days of my life. When everything else in my life was crumbling, His promises were the things that kept me alive. To hear Him call me Hephzibah Beulah was all it took to know that I am well loved and taken care of. There is no explanation as to why my six children and I have a nice roof over our heads, beds to sleep in, food in our pantry, and comfort. We have more than we need. We have more than we could ask for. And there are days I cry because we are so incredibly blessed. I cry and I ask God, "God, why do you love me and bless me like you do?" I hear Him whisper to my heart, "Because you receive it and you know you are My Hephzibah Beulah. My delight is in you, you are mine!"

Hephzibah is Hebrew for His delight is in her. Beulah means, "To be a husband over" or "To marry" in Hebrew. What is interesting is the Hebrew word anog means delicate woman. The divorced woman is fragile in the eyes of the Lord. And when she runs to Him and is vulnerable to Him, He sees her as delicate, as anog. This is from the root word anag, meaning delight. It is used in the verses such as Psalms 37:4, "Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." Or Psalms 37:11, "But the meek will inherit the earth and shall delight themselves in the abundance of peace." Hephzibah Beulah is a delicate woman with her Husband, the Lord. She is meek with her Beloved because she knows He delights in her.

I know many of my friends and family have been concerned about my love affair with Joshua Carpenter. I must confess that I made up an FB profile for Him. For those of my friends who have participated in my fanciful delusion of Jesus Christ having an FB, thank you! For my friends and family that have bore with me through the grieving process and ran with me through the chaos of the past few months of training and climbing Mount Singleton, thank you. For those who will be journeying onward and upward with me through the next season of my life, you are precious and very close to my heart. Thank you. To my future Beulah, you will have to arm wrestle Joshua Carpenter if you delight in me. May He stir up and awaken love. For my single mommies, and sisterhood of divorcees, I love you. May your hearts be lovesick for your Husband, your God and King. And may you and your children live full of joy every day, and sleep in peace every night. May in due season your faithfulness to the Lord be rewarded through the most divinely appointed romance you could never dream up! From this day forward may you make wise decisions regarding your heart just as Hephzibah Beulah. She is delicate and full of grace. She chooses wisely because she knows to whom she belongs. And she is confident in His love, and well aware that she is His delight!

Passion

“Passion”, what comes to mind? Some may think of Passion-Sources, a compilation by Peter Gabriel. Others might think of songs by various recording artists, or the British Pop Band from the early 80s, maybe the Broadway musical from the 90s. Maybe my religious friends think of the Passion Plays performed in churches around the Western Hemisphere during the week before Easter Sunday. I am sure all of us think of the emotion, passion. Many of us think about Passion Week, the seven days of remembrance prior to the Easter Celebration. This being Passion Week, I am taking time to evaluate and think about Passion.

It seems our culture’s definition of passion has plummeted from it’s lofty perch. The word passion is rooted in the Latin word pati; to suffer. It evolved into late Latin’s word passio; suffering being acted upon. Sometime in the 13th century Anglo-Saxony borrowed the word from the Land of Fragrant Perfumes and Pungent Fromage, or as we call it cheese. The French and English exchange many things. Hygiene habits and taste in fabulous shoes are not two of these things. Though I must admit the French do tend to have beautiful teeth. It is my assumption that the word passion was minced in France with ambrosial champagne somewhere in the Southern Countryside where the blondes are beautiful and enchanting, thus suffering and love amalgamate, with at times a sexual connotation. I understand many a religious friend’s blushing at the thought of The Passion of Christ having a sexual ideation, as do I. I do however have a thought, and believe the consummation of the two definitions into one word is perfect.

The Passion of My Christ, My Savior was both suffering and intimate love. What He did on the Cross for me is the most beautiful thing a man could ever do for His beloved. God desired deep intimate love with me. This most passionate desire drove Him to the Cross where out of intense love He suffered a horrible death not suited a King but a murderer. My Jesus loves me with such deep intimate love. To be quite honest, the most intimate moments with my future husband could never compare with the utterly intrinsic acts of my Jesus. That is why the conglomeration is absolutely superb.

Just as a husband’s love for his wife draws her respect and admiration, so does Jesus’ demonstration of Passion on the Cross. And I do mean Passion in the fullest sense. His Passion on the Cross in turn causes passion in my heart to bubble to the surface and overflow my life. When I think about His deep intimate love for me I can not help but to feel overjoyed like a bride for her husband. Of course His adoration for me is not in the “sexual” sense of intimacy. It’s something spiritual and truthfully much deeper. My response is the same. It transcends the physical. I do not believe the English language has a word that can possibly do this emotional state of euphoria justice.

To be theologically correct it is not Jesus with whom I have this intimate relationship, but rather the quiet third person of the tri-part God-head, The Holy Spirit. Jesus, in fact, is sitting at the right hand side of the Father. Though I was 4 when I asked the Lord to come make His home in my heart, it is not Jesus in the flesh living in my heart. My passion is for Jesus Christ, the King, but my intimate relationship is through the Holy Spirit. And somehow it pleased the Lord to bruise His only Son, Jesus Christ. It was God the Father’s plan all along to send His Son to die on the cross because of His Passion for Mankind, for me! He knew only Jesus could make holy His bride, His people, His body, His church. Nothing but the Blood of the Lamb could redeem and buy back His bride of harlotry. Oh, how much more do I love Him. I do not deserve His passion for me. How much more do I respect and admire my Jesus because He was passionate and obedient to redeem me and buy me back from death’s grip. Jesus is the Lamb Who was slain and is worthy of my passion. It is His love that has lead my heart to repentance. It is His passion that has lead me to my knees. Not just this Passion week, but every day of my life I will remember His passion for me and the world. I can not keep silent. He has been too kind, too good, and far too passionate toward me. I have been walking with the Lord for 26 years, yet this Passion Week I feel as though I am feeling His Passion for me for the very first time. May He never cease to intimately move in my heart and passionately reveal His gentle loving kindness toward me and His people.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5jWZziTopf0

Jesus, I love you. Thank you for your Passion.

Love Rescue Me

I said love, love rescue me

I said love
Climb up the mountains, said love
I said love, oh my love
On the hill of the son
I'm on the eve of a storm
And my word you must believe in
Oh, I said love, rescue me
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah...

Yeah I'm here without a name
In the palace of my shame
I said love rescue me

I've conquered my past
The future is here at last
I stand at the entrance
To a new world I can see
The ruins to the right of me
Will soon have lost sight of me
Love rescue me

~Bono and Bob Dylan

Recently, I read a blog belonging to a dear and sweet friend of mine, Christopher. He was sharing his thoughts on his present season of transition. It sparked some thoughts concerning my own journey.

Men, this one is for free.... Women have a deep desire to be rescued. It's honestly residual from the fall of mankind in the garden. Had it not been for the fall, women would never have had the need to be rescued. The flip side is true for men. It seems each of my brothers, and both of my sons have a desire to rescue. Even little two year old Isaac plays the hero in imaginary Camelot with his sisters and older brother, Timmy. The less than 3 feet tall, little warrior storms the castle with his foam sword in hand to rescue the fair maiden being held against her will by a sinister rivaling king. The play comes naturally.

In pondering Christopher's thoughts of leaving the old territory of the past and embarking on a journey to as he called it, "New Home", I watched the chivalrous play of the children unfold this morning and I thought of a U2 song, "Love Rescue Me." The song ends well! Love rescues, and the past is conquered. The future has become the present. The ruins of the past are fading into the distance. The New World is in sight! My friend nearly prophetically wrote, "What’s more, these in-between days will themselves come to an end at some point, perhaps sooner than I expect. And in the bittersweet interim, my hope is to forbear, graciously and with a serene attention to the tasks at hand, until the day I may face new glories and challenges: ..." His words and my children all danced to this U2 song and I realized though I am not" Home" yet, nor am I standing on the soil of my "New World", my arrival is inevitable. These in-between days will come to an end. But until I find my feet sinking deep into the sand of my "New World" I have set my mind on the "tasks at hand".

Today, I was reading the first chapter of Isaiah. My task at hand is simply defending the cause of fatherless children. These fatherless children are my children. They are simply joyful and my incredible blessings! In my six little blessings are hidden treasures I will find down the road as they grow older and mature. What a privilege that God has chosen me as the rescuer of my fatherless children. Truthfully, it is definitely tiring, but the reward will be well worth it in the end. The consequence of obedience is tasty and delicious! Whereas the consequence of rebellion is not so yummy. Just as we surely reap a harvest if we do not grow weary in doing good. God is not mocked, and one absolutely reaps what he or she sows. On the topic of reaping and sowing, blessing and cursing, obedience and rebellion, this is what God says in Isaiah 1:17-31,

"17 learn to do right!
Seek justice,
encourage the oppressed. [a]
Defend the cause of the fatherless,
plead the case of the widow.

18 "Come now, let us reason together,"
says the LORD.
"Though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red as crimson,
they shall be like wool.

19 If you are willing and obedient,
you will eat the best from the land;

20 but if you resist and rebel,
you will be devoured by the sword."
For the mouth of the LORD has spoken.

21 See how the faithful city
has become a harlot!
She once was full of justice;
righteousness used to dwell in her—
but now murderers!

22 Your silver has become dross,
your choice wine is diluted with water.

23 Your rulers are rebels,
companions of thieves;
they all love bribes
and chase after gifts.
They do not defend the cause of the fatherless;
the widow's case does not come before them.

24 Therefore the Lord, the LORD Almighty,
the Mighty One of Israel, declares:
"Ah, I will get relief from my foes
and avenge myself on my enemies.

25 I will turn my hand against you;
I will thoroughly purge away your dross
and remove all your impurities.

26 I will restore your judges as in days of old,
your counselors as at the beginning.
Afterward you will be called
the City of Righteousness,
the Faithful City."

27 Zion will be redeemed with justice,
her penitent ones with righteousness.

28 But rebels and sinners will both be broken,
and those who forsake the LORD will perish.

29 "You will be ashamed because of the sacred oaks
in which you have delighted;
you will be disgraced because of the gardens
that you have chosen.

30 You will be like an oak with fading leaves,
like a garden without water.

31 The mighty man will become tinder
and his work a spark,
both will burn together,
with no one to quench the fire."


I have discovered through accepting the call of the Lord to be obedient in rescuing my children, He, my Love is rescuing me. He is healing my heart, and keeping it soft toward Him and the world around me. He is fostering new hope and vision of the "New World" He has prepared for me and my children. Just as in Song of Solomon when the Shulamite is asked to join her Beloved and climb the mountain of Myrrh, I have climbed His Mountain, and He has rescued me on the eve of the storm. I died to my own desires by giving up the ideal I clung to for so many years. I died and relinquished my ideals and dreams so that my children would live in peace, that He would take away all the impurities and call them a City of Righteousness, the Faithful City. I let go of death, and now cling to the Author of the Promise of Life and the "New World" He has revealed through His word. In choosing to be obedient my children have been rescued, and myself as well. The ruins we have left behind, the past, the brokenness and broken relationship with a husband and a father are quickly fading into the distance as His "New World" grows bigger on the horizon. Welcome, "New World"!

Delusion for Reality

I recently shared with my friend, Aaron, that I feel as though I am waking from a ten year sleep. I awake to these little voices calling, “Mommy!” The odd thing about it is they are looking right at me when they call. I feel rather like Rip Van Winkle. But it is these little voices that call me back out from delusion into reality.

I have discovered that the world we live in is full of deception. We easily live the sleepy illusion. I have also found when I live the illusion my emotions are rather delusional. My friend Cass can attest to this. For example, life with Tim was nothing more than an illusion. Tim was an illusionist. Everyone in my family, and all of my friends could see through him. But there was nothing they could say or do to wake me from the delusional slumber of my heart. I was thoroughly convinced that if I did the right thing, said the right thing, looked the right way, or acted the right way maybe he would finally be faithful to me. At one point I would have rather died than let go of the delusion.

In 2003, I was a mere 98 pounds. My nickname was bones. The delusion nearly starved me to death. Yet, I clung to it for dear life. I held on to the very thing that desired to kill me. In 2007 after discovering his 3rd affair, and countless one night stands I risked contracting STDs while I was pregnant with our 5th child, Isaac, all for the sake of the delusion. Thankfully the hand of God protected my health and Isaac’s as well. In 2009, without thoroughly thinking through the consequences, my five children and I left our home, our stuff, our life, our friends, and our family to move across the United States to be with a man that confessed he could probably never be faithful to me but if I ever tried to leave again would kill me. Still, no one could convince me of the reality of Tim Barry. He was my world of deception, simply an illusion and I was living a delusion.

“The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked; Who can know it?” Jeremiah 17:9 Who can know it? Who can know the delusion of my heart? God knows it! Outside of His love for me my heart is terribly deceitful. On the outside I keep it together. But on the inside, when my face is not pressed up against His my heart desires the delusion of an illusion. When I’m not smack dab in the middle of His plan for my life, living in grace through Him and His power I become the traitor selling Him for a cheap relationship. When the delusion passes I realize that not only did I betray and sell my King for cheap love, but I also sold myself back into slavery as a spiritual and emotional whore.

The Matrix is one of my all time favorite movies. There is this scene where the traitor, Cypher is meeting with the antagonist Smiths making plans to betray the heroes, Morpheus and his crew. While secretly plugged into the Matrix he takes a bite of steak and says, “I know that this steak doesn’t exist. I know when I put it in my mouth the Matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious.” He goes on to say, “Ignorance is bliss.” Cypher experienced and knew freedom, but sold himself short for pleasure that is nothing more than shackles on the ankles and chains on the wrists. Yes, maybe the Smiths could plug him back into the Matrix. He could go back to sleep, and forget reality ever happened. When I analyze his character it’s easy to see that love for freedom and his hero was never in him. And that’s what makes me different, and this is what keeps me from going back to sleep.

I finally woke up to the reality of the illusion when I was pregnant with Gabriella and discovered once again Tim had been unfaithful. The divorce was already in the works, but Tim was once again playing the illusionist and pulling out big tricks in order to manipulate the end product. He wanted to keep the illusion going and me delusional as the little woman, barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. Please don’t misunderstand me, I love my children, and I like baking. But I am a very willful woman. I do not believe that a woman’s primary reason for existence is to simply bare children, cook and clean. Yet, somehow while I was married to him I lost my identity in his illusion, believing these things were all there was in life. Tim would have had his way, and I would have once again sold my King’s plan for me, and my life for the illusion of Tim had it not been for a certain photo shoot with Emily Lewin and God giving me the “red pill”. She did the most amazing maternity set I have ever seen. Gabriella’s middle name is Joy. We wrote Joy on my pregnant belly in bright red. She showed me the preview 4 days before I was to go back to North Carolina to deal with the details of the house and the divorce. Everyone was extremely uneasy with the idea of me going back to North Carolina. They had the feeling that I would be quickly lulled back to sleep. I saw these pictures. And for the first time in my life I heard the Lord say to my heart, “Lenee, this is how I see you. You are precious and beautiful. Joy is written all over you.” This was the little red pill. It is the truth of who I am, and why He made me, and the truth about the illusion. The illusion was replaced by reality. His voice heard in my heart spoke love so deep to my soul that I could not return to my delusional life with Tim. What had once seemed like an illusion, God’s love and faithfulness toward me had just become reality. What previously seemed to be reality, Tim’s love for me though he was drastically unfaithful, had been found out as the illusion. The man behind the curtain had been discovered.

I took the “red pill”. I was aborted into the upside down world of God’s economy of love. Unlike Cypher there is no looking back. Once lines are crossed there is no going back. It is evidence that not only does God know the deceitfulness of my heart, He also is the cure. Yes, my heart at times still feels the familiar tug of a good illusionist. But quickly the reality of God’s love break his enchanting spell. I’m never going back.

Curiously, in context the passage from Jeremiah 17 reads, “Thus says the Lord: Cursed is the man that trusts in man and makes flesh his strength, whose heart departs from the Lord. For he shall be like a shrub in the desert, and shall not see when good comes, but shall inhabit the parched places in the wilderness, in a salt land which is not inhabited. Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, and whose hope is in the Lord. For he shall be like a tree planted by the waters, which spreads out its roots by the river, and will not fear when heat comes; But its leaves will be green and will not be anxious in the year of drought, nor will cease from yielding fruit. The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. Who can know it? I the Lord search the heart, and test the mind, even to give every man according to his ways, according to the fruit of his labors.” Though I am trapped in this dying body and all of the world’s deception surrounds me, I am trusting in the Lord and He is my only hope. I have settled inside of myself that I would rather die than give up my freedom. I would rather be alone and misunderstood than trade my King’s love for the unfaithful love of a man.

That being said, as I navigate singleness I am abundantly blessed with the six little voices reminding me of God’s love and faithfulness. I know there are many in the camp that believe divorced women may not marry again, even if they have “biblical“ grounds for divorce. I have dear friends that believe this to be scripturally true. I’ve wrestled over it, and dug through the scriptures and several books. I do believe 1 Corinthians 7 does support remarriage if a spouse departs, (abandonment) and also if there is adultery. I’ve received much pastoral counsel that agrees. Still, with that in mind, I would rather live a peaceful, healthy, fulfilling, life full of His freedom with occasional feeling of loneliness the single life brings than to be married to an illusionist and sleeping in the delusion of cheap and unfaithful love. Rip Van Winkle may not have learned his lesson, but I definitely have!

And just so I am not misunderstood, I do desire to remarry someday only, ONLY, if the Lord has truly planned to give me to another man who is not an illusionist. I won’t accept anything less than His plan for my life. Sleepy delusions and fake steak are just not worth it to me when compared to how much He loves me. John Fitch is right, but truthfully I called him a jerk when he shared this with me. A guy that knows how to dress needs to be with a fashion savvy woman. He's not really that shallow. I know he believes there is more to it than simply fashion and good looks. That’s his idea of being equally yoked. I guess that means I need a man with GREAT hair because I have absolutely incredible hair!

I am Lenee

As the teacher would begin calling roll on the first day of class it never failed that I would experience the all to familiar feeling of wanting to vomit. The first day of school was always at the top of the list of things I hated when I was a kid. It wasn’t the getting to know new people, or the curriculum that freaked me out, it was simply every year the teacher would slaughter my name. I had to make the choice between correcting the teacher, or letting it slide and respond to, “Lynnie”, “Leanna”, or maybe, “Lynna”. It never failed, I always looked like an idiot and corrected the teacher.

I would come home after the first day of school in tears. I would cry, whine and complain to my mother, “Mom, please let me change my name to something like, Laura, Sarah, Samantha, maybe even Jessica.” And she always responded with the same story, “Lenee, have I ever told you about why I named you Lenee?”

“No, Mother, you have not.” I would respond with sarcasm. Of course she had told me the same story since the first day of Kindergarten.

“Lenee, the day you were born, I looked at you and said, ‘Sarah? Jessica? Laura? Samantha?‘ You didn’t respond to any of those names. So I looked at you as I thought about the name Renee. You were certainly too beautiful a baby to be simply Renee. So I said, ‘Lenee’. You turned your head and looked at me. And quite honestly, you smiled! You in fact chose your own name.” She would then smile at me, most likely hoping I would drop the subject and say something polite like, “Why thank you for reminding me, Mother dearest. You are so kind to have allowed me as an infant to choose my own name.”

Instead, being tenacious, I would continue complaining about how everyone else at school had normal names like, Laura, Samantha, Sarah, and Jessica. I would throw my head on the table in frustration and say, “Mom, all my friends have normal names but me.” She would always respond, “Lenee, I know you don’t like your name now. But you will grow to love your name when you are older. You will grow into your name.”

I think that’s exactly what it was. Lenee just felt like such a big name. It felt so serious, but so free spirited at the same time. It is a name that at times is still unfamiliar when it’s spoken. But recently I have grown to love my name, even embrace it! I think I might possibly be growing into it. I am finally becoming familiar with my name.

My name is Lenee Michelle Cook Barry. Lenee basically means New Life. Michelle means Image of God. Cook is my maiden name. Cooks are witty, tenacious, peculiar and polite people. My six children have the last name Barry. So I decided to keep my married name when I divorced in January. I like my little Barries. They are little pieces of fruit that are delectable and light and very colorful!

It is no surprise that my name means New Life. Yes, I have six children. I was diagnosed with polycystic ovarian disease when I was about sixteen. I was told by the doctor that more than likely I would never be able to conceive my own children naturally. They were extremely wrong! Six kids is amazing. I was destined for life, new life. It’s a bit of a mystery to me. I had no desire to have children before I got married. I was college bound and had dreams of a career! I am a “Woman’s Liber” at heart. The thought of being a stay at home mom, or domestic engineer turned my stomach sour and my face twisted with pure disgust when I was 18. So regardless of the news that childbearing would be a challenge, I never would have in my wildest dreams fantasized about having six kids. And now, my six kids, my serendipitous New Life is picturesque and amazing. It far exceeds my wildest dreams!

Beyond the kids, there are other desires and things in my life that revolve around the theme of New Life. I am a born again Christian. I was raised in a Christian home. I came to know Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior when I was four. I grew up studying the Bible. I was immersed in Christian culture. But it wasn’t until I was eighteen years old, sitting with my friend, Amy Courts, on her front lawn, sifting through the Bible that I embraced my faith and realized I belong to God. Amy shouted out Zephaniah 3:17, “The Lord your God is with you. He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you. He will quiet you with His love. He will rejoice over you with singing.” For the first time in my life I felt my heart jump when reading scripture. For the first time I felt as though my heart was alive. From that moment forward everything in my life changed dramatically. I went from being a “sure I’m a Christian” kid, to “I love Jesus” young woman.

A few months later I met the man I would marry, with whom I would have six children. I met Tim Barry at church through a mutual friend. He had been recently saved. He was raised quite the opposite of me. His family was rough. I don’t mean "go to church on Easter and Christmas" rough. I mean "his dad was in prison" rough. My parents didn’t approve of us dating let alone getting married. We honestly had very little in common, but his testimony was intriguing. The same friend I sat with out on her lawn earlier that year wrote in my yearbook that I would someday be a missionary or pastor’s wife. She wrote this when I was really struggling in my faith, and spiritually a mess. I held on to her words in the back of my mind. Tim was on the fast track to being a minister simply because of his testimony. I’ve learned it isn’t about a testimony, or a one time experience when we give our lives over to the Lord because we hate ourselves and we want fire insurance. But rather it’s a lifelong journey with Him, dying, and being raised daily to New Life in Him. That’s for free! It cost me ten years of pain and grief to come to that conclusion! Though Tim went to Bible College for one semester, he never followed through. We had a choice between full time missions in Hungary or the Army. Tim chose the Army. Our marriage fell apart at that time. I wrestled with his unfaithful heart for nearly eight more years, three affairs and only God knows how many one night stands. Though I held on primarily due to obligation and fear, I experienced death through what is supposed to be God’s greatest physical blessing, marriage.

But it was through experiencing emotional death that I have come to see the truth of New Life. As Solomon the Wise wrote, “there is a time for all things, a season for everything under heaven.” There is a time to be born, and a time to die. "Turn, Turn, Turn….." I would not be the person I am today had it not been for the poor choices I made in marrying Tim. The world would lack these six specific champions who will one day embrace their faith and run with their Jesus and breath His Life all over the world. New Life, and my children would not be nearly as fantastic had I not experienced first the news of not being able to bear my own children, and secondly had I not experienced the death of the marriage that produced these six children.

I am Lenee. I am New Life. I am His Life. I am Michelle. I am The Image of Him who has given me New Life. I am a Cook, witty, tenacious, peculiar, and polite. The name Barry has matured me. It has been like an oak vat in which wine ages deepening the flavor. Or quite possibly, Barry is the bacteria that has aged the cheese. I am like fine wine and cheese. The death and life I have experienced as a Barry has brought me to a place of beauty and maturity. I am very privileged to be raising six amazing and very delicious Barries. Though my last name, for now, remains Barry, I am not a Barry.

I am a Lenee! A few years ago I began enjoying my name. But it wasn’t until very recently that I embraced my name. A dear friend of mine said my name in a conversation. For the first time in my life it just sounded right. That night, as the name rolled off his tongue, I felt myself step into Lenee. Lenee is a pretty amazing name. And it sometimes takes time to grow into such grand name!

This Blog is dedicated to my life that is picturesquely serendipitous! Much like my name, my life has been so amazing that I have had to take time to grow into it. I, quite by accident, have discovered how truly picturesque is my name, and my life, especially my new life. Here’s to life, New Life. And here is to Lenee Michelle, The Image of God’s New Life.