Dear Little One

Dear Little One,

I saw you tonight. You don't know me but I remember you. I knew your face before you even turned around. I've seen it in my dreams.

You were asleep. You had no idea Mommy had overdosed and Daddy was on his way too. A stranger called 911. I was the second officer on scene. You woke up at the sound of the sirens. Your scream drowned it out as of it were a soft spring breeze over calm water. Your sister had seen all these things before. She already knew Mommy was going in "the white box". She told me that Daddy would wake up in a while. She asked if I had a snack. You just cried and pulled to get out of your seat. It was half strapped on your leg. Your diaper had obviously not been changed in some time. You screamed but you let me pick you up without a fight. You kept yourself as far away from me as you could at first but as I talked to you and rubbed your back, your stiff body eased ever so slightly. It was finally a blue pen on my vest that made you smile. You liked the clicker on top. I finally saw some light come into your eyes.
I remember the comment made by another officer.
"I don't know how you can touch her, Jensen. She nasty. That whole van nasty."
He was right. Your fingernails were coal black. Your clothes had holes in them. Your hair was matted and unkempt. Your stench could have cleared a high school locker room. I remember washing my uniform twice to get it out. I just let you lay your head on my shoulder. I bought your meal. I remember the way your sister stuffed chicken nuggets in her pockets to have for later. She knew there wouldn't be any food and she told me she'd save fries for you. She could barely pronounce the word. "Frees".
Your case was like any other. Arrests made, warrants served, CPS called, vehicle towed, carefully articulated report...
They put me on standby for court. You were still with family members. I waited and waited in anticipation of trying my damndest to come to your rescue again. You needed a home. A safe place. Food. Shelter. Basic human kindness and blue pens. You needed lots of blue, clicky pens.
I wanted to put my fist through the attorney's face when she told me your parents got their third round of unsupervised probation and, after an 8 week parenting class, you would be reunited with a happy family who had missed you so much. My services would no longer be needed in this case. Well done, Officer Jensen.
I had geared up to go to battle for you. To give you your best chance but nobody cared. "They didn't mean to do it...drug addiction is so overpowering...it's a mental disorder"... The same old pleas had won again. The system failed you. I failed you. With all my ability and all the power the badge gave me, I could do nothing to help you any further. I gave you 8 months of relief. Now I would know you were back in hell, hungry, scared and alone again. My hard work was irrelevant. Your suffering didn't matter.

I saw you tonight. Your hair is longer and your eyes are still big and brown. Your hands are still tiny. Your smile is gone. Your eyes are dead. Your body is numb and your spirit broken. I am so sorry, Little One. I tried to save you and I failed. For this, my spirit is broken.

In the light of dawn, push on, Little One. Push on. The war is not over for either of us yet.

   I can hear it in the dead of night. I feel it in my bones. His words still cut as if they were spoken to me in that instant. 

   “You don’t matter.”

   Here I sit. Alone. Single mother of 3 children. Tired…no, exhausted. Struggling. Pulled in every direction. 

I am left to feel like I am not their mother. I must work outside of my home to provide everything they need. This was the last thing I ever wanted. I fought with everything I had to prevent it. I spend countless hours sitting in a patrol car watching my back for an ambush and wishing I was at home, hearing them laugh. I sweat buckets on the side of the road hoping not to get hit by a car while thinking about their quiet, sleeping faces. I spend hours drenched to the bone wishing I could just curl up in somebody’s arms and be the one who is weak and loved for once. I struggle. I cringe. I grieve. I rage. I push on. 

   Then, in quiet moments as I look through my daughter’s kindergarten folder, I find the unprompted words she wrote about me over a year ago. In the moments when I am weak and I least expect it, I find the true thoughts of my 6 year little girl. When I doubt the life that God has allowed me to provide for her, I find quiet reassurance and peaceful understanding in the pencil of a child. Though I doubt my value, I know that hers is beyond compare. It is that value that keeps her close to my mind in the middle of the night when I am called away. It is that sweet spirit that calls me home. Taylor, my sweet girl, you are loved beyond words.

March 2017

What do you like to do at home?

I like to spend time with my Mommy.
I like to ride my bike. I like to climb on my (translation please??). I like to feed my chickens.
I like to jump on my trampoline. I like to watch TV. I like to wash my Mom's police car.

May 2017

What do you love about your Mom?

I love my Mom because she puts me to bed.
I love my Mom because she jumps on the trampoline with me.
I love my Mom because she is a beautiful mom.
I love my Mom because she buys me clothes.

November 2017

Write a sentence telling what you are thankful for.

I am thankful for Thanksgiving.
I am thankful for my Momma.
I am thankful for my Pap Pap.
I am thankful for my GiGi. 

"...I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you." Jeremiah 31:3

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for good and not evil, to give you a future and a hope."

Jeremiah 29:11

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old things have passed away; behold, all things are new." 

2 Corinthians 5:17

A small perspective from behind the Thin Blue Line

   We're all aware of the current controversy surrounding law enforcement officers. I don't feel the need to touch on that subject. I'm thinking of a different issue. One I am accused of nearly every shift I work.

"WHY DON'T YOU DO YOUR JOB???"

   For the record, I am doing my job but I can't always do exactly what you think I ought to do. The law is the law. It does not change because of your anger. It does not give heed to your ranting nor does it care how many times you cuss me out. I have sworn an oath to protect and serve you. I WILL DO SO...lawfully. Please understand, the same oath that I swore to protect you, protects the one who has offended you. 

   You must remember, in the state of North Carolina, there are 9.9 MILLION residents who may have an emergency at any time of any given day. We won't count those who are visiting family from out of state and wreck their car or those who are passing through but still decide to steal from the local Wal*Mart. There are only 23,000 law enforcement officers to save the day and all of us aren't on duty at the same time. 

   23,000 vs. 9.9 MILLION

   If you can't see that perspective, think of it like this. While your husband is convulsing, somebody else's house is on fire containing the family dog and a two year old little girl. There's a tree down. Your officer, who would normally take 5 minutes to get there, takes 20 minutes because two of the major roads have been shut down without any information being passed along. There are two car wrecks. The first, is only property damage while the second has a severely injured 8 year old little boy. A mother has a missing 15 year old. Across the street, people are shooting at each other all while an important city official is calling for an escort to the bank. 

   There are only 5 officers on duty. 

   We are your first responders. We are your law enforcement officers. We swore an oath to protect and serve you. I meant that oath. I took it to heart and I don't regret it. You matter to me.  I am rushing around to coordinate your safety.  I'm taking curves a little too fast and skipping lunch to help you. I'm furiously wracking my exhausted brain to find an immediate solution to your problem all while watching my back and yours. My bullet proof vest is cutting into my shoulders. My duty belt weighs 30 lbs and it's not being kind to my aching feet. I've worked so many hours in the last 3 days that I haven't been able to hug my children. I feel guilty about it. As my focus lays entirely on you and your problem, there are 3 other calls demanding my attention. I understand you may be hurting and you're afraid. I am here to help in any way I can. Just please, when I finally arrive, be patient and kind. You can't see the whole picture. You also aren't the first person to scream at me, call me lazy, or accuse me of racism in the last 3 hours. Let that sink in as I say, I have at least 9 more hours to go.

Dead Dreams, Living Hope

   In light of some recent uncontrollable circumstances in my life, I have been forced to find a new dream for myself and my children. This ultimately includes a career. It had been my dream to be a permanent stay at home mom. I believed that it was my biblical role to be my children's sole caretaker.
   While that belief still rings true, it is not the reality of my life. The mental transition to this was a miserable one to make. I felt like I was being forced to abandon my children. I was being dragged against my will into a dungeon with no window. First and foremost, I was supposed to be a mother. How could I be a good, attentive, involved mother if I wasn't at home with my children every day? How could I possibly make them understand that not only was Daddy suddenly gone but Momma wasn't going to be there to kiss every scrape or read every book they fancied? I could find no answer to that. I was just going to have to treasure the remaining time I had at home before I took the plunge.
   Through this grief, I finally began to understand what my mother meant when she told me, "God does not give us grace for what if. He gives us grace for what is." This was just another aspect of my husband's choice to abandon our family. This was just another trial I would have to overcome because of my husband's sin. I faced it with great anger and resentment. I faced it with fear and disgust. Ultimately, I faced it because I had no other choice.
   I spent the better part of a year researching career opportunities. I learned the requirements be a lawyer, a personal assistant, a masseuse, a personal trainer, a therapist, an accountant...blah blah blah. The only career I didn't consider was a truck driver. As much as I love to drive, I don't see myself brushing my teeth in a public sink. ;)
   In the midst of this quest, there was one career that stuck in the back of my mind but I was too fearful to bring it out of the shadows. It was just too crazy. My abused mind convinced me that my family would laugh at me. I was certain they would dismiss the idea as impossible. After all, I had already convinced myself that I'd never make it through the required training. Why did I need anybody to affirm what I was already certain of? Still, it nagged at me.
   As this desire swelled with each passing siren, I began to recognize the abuse I had suffered at the hands of my husband. I saw the way he manipulated and deceived me. I understood that the voice in my heart telling me how useless and unloved I was did not come from my own mind. It came from love. A deeper love than you could imagine. Because I loved my husband far more than I loved myself, I accepted his words as absolute truth. My desire to please him was so deeply rooted in me that I even began to put myself down in his place. If I wasn't good enough for him to love me, I wasn't good enough for anything. I wasn't a good mother. I was fat and ugly. I was worthless...stupid...a waste of his time and energy...greedy and incapable of even picking out my own clothes.
   As the Spirit slowly revealed this abuse to me, He also began healing me. He allowed me to grieve the loss of my love and recognize truth. He showed me how to let go of the lies I had been fed day after day for 6 years. He reminded me of who He had created me to be. I desired, more than anything, to come out of my self-preserving bubble and do something daring and huge. To find the me that was once impulsive and courageous, whose mind and heart pushed her body fearlessly forward when others said, "No, you aren't capable". I wanted to be better, to believe in myself again. I wanted to be strong but most of all, I wanted to be free from the fear choking the very life from my heart.
   Yet, I wouldn't let myself. Each time these desires welled up in me, I squashed them. I ducked back into my cave and listened to the sneering, taunting voice of my once Beloved...'You don't matter.'... 'Your family will laugh at you.'...'That's not going to work.'...'You're crazy.'...'You're being stupid.'....'You can't do that!'.
   It was in one of these moments that I heard a still, small voice say, 'When has your family ever laughed at you?'
    DING DING DING. QUEUE THE LIGHTS, PEOPLE.
    I saw the brilliant light that only the Holy Spirit can bring into your life. My family was my safe place. Were they not the ones who God sent to rescue me when not only my life was in danger but the life of all three of my daughters? Were they not the ones who had powerlessly watched the horrific destruction of my marriage? These were the people who already knew my struggle. They already knew the heinous things that were said and done to me. They knew better even than I, that my mind accepted my husband's statements as absolute truth. Thankfully, they also knew my strength and my drive. They understood that my broken spirit and my Holy Spirit were at war.
   It was in this revelation that I found a measure of peace. My fear did not lesson. My anxiety didn't disappear. However, I could finally admit it to myself and my family. If I was to be forced to work away from my children, I didn't want to simply sit behind a desk and earn a pay check. I wanted a job that mattered. I wanted to be a Police Officer.
   I can't tell you that my family's reaction was over the top. Supportive? Absolutely! Was my Dad crazy about me having a job that requires a bullet proof vest? Not hardly! But they rallied. My parents were the backbone of my training. Daddy gave countless, much needed pep talks. Momma, with quite a few pep talks herself, was the ever-present caregiver of my girls while I spent 10-15 hours a day in training followed by countless hours of studying with a pinch of sleep thrown in.

For the record, fingerprint dust
gets everywhere!!

   Basic Law Enforcement Training was a Mount Everest for me. I went from doing very little exercise to an intense workout 4-5 times a week. My tired body ached hourly. My recovering mind struggled to focus on the countless paragraphs of law in front of me. I was convinced I would fail my weekly tests before they were ever placed in front of me. Yet, I pushed. The Spirit reminded me daily, "When have I ever set you up to fail?".  So, I found a partner who helped me study and work out. I found courage in my rising test scores and strength in my extra workouts. I even found myself enjoying my life. I, once again, found my God to be faithful.

   When my final, dreaded physical abilities test arrived, I passed. When I heard the passing time, I stood in amazement with laughter billowing from my soul.  All things are possible through Christ who strengthens me.
   My next step was to pass my state exam. The days prior are an incoherent blur. I recall some very long paragraphs, a few hours of sleep and a lot of pizza for dinner.
   When graduation day arrived, there was some confusion with my test scores and even as I stood ready to walk across the stage, I wasn't sure I'd be given the chance. There are no accurate words for that panic attack! My gracious Captain settled the issue for me and even gave me scores for each block of my test. I passed with flying colors. Have you heard the Hallelujah Chorus yet??

   June 4, 2015. I swelled with pride as I swore my oath to protect and serve. I smiled as Daddy pinned my badge on my shirt and cried when I looked into my proud mother's eyes while she held the Bible on which I placed my left hand. A moment I thought was completely impossible turned out to be my first breath in a brand new life. That was one moment that I began to accept what once represented the end of my life. I changed my mentality of being robbed of my dream to being blessed with a new one. I didn't have to lose my children. I had to adjust my entire life but my life is still in them. They are the most precious beings on this earth. I have done so much with so little because the vision of their tiny faces has put power in my step and the strength of a Holy God has renewed my mind.

...I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore, I have continued my faithfulness to you. 

Jeremiah 31:3

 
 

September 2015 Status Update

   Hello one and all. It's been ages since I've updated this and I must say, I've missed it.
 
   Our little family has had some major changes in the recent years. I said goodbye to my stay-at-home mom cape and am now working as a Police Officer. My job has long hours and crazy events but I must admit, I love it. There have been innumerable trials as of late and most have left me wanting to be wrapped in a ball in the corner of a dark room. However, I am reminded of God's loving, tender hand each time I hear, "Meet Officer Jensen." I am still in awe that He would give me such a title in this world. He is good!
 
   My girls are doing well. Paige is now 5 years and started Kindergarten in August. Being the social butterfly that she is, she is adjusting well and throughly enjoying every scrap of homework she receives. The girl did have a few bumpy days in the beginning. Just 2 weeks into school on a pretty summer morning, I noticed her yawning in the back seat. She said,
"Momma, do I always have to go to school every day?"
I explained that she would have weekends off but for the most part, yes, she would have to attend school every day.
Her response, "But do I have to go in the morning?!".
 
   Taylor is now three years old and is thoroughly enjoying her time to be the boss while Paige is at school. In true big sister fashion, she takes care of Allie in Paige's place but she also gets in her fair share of torture. There just aren't enough baby strollers or crayons to go around in this house!
 
    Allie Grace is doing great as well. Most of you don't know that we had some issues with her losing weight as an infant and young toddler but you'd never know it now! The child will make your back hurt. She is 2 years old and speaks as well as an English professor. My little ball of laughter is also the clown of the whole family. She loves nothing more than a good reaction.

    All things considered, we're doing great.

Momma's Girl

   My mom is nothing special.

   She's not an amazing musician who waves to the paparazzi from her BelAir home. She's not a red carpet celebrity with millions of followers on Twitter. She's not up for the Nobel Peace Prize and wouldn't be caught dead in an Emmy dress. She's never going to have her own reality show or shake hands with Bill Gates. She's not going to get on her private jet and fly to Paris just for dinner.

   My mom is nothing special to you.

   To me, my mom is the pinnacle of motherhood. She is the strongest, most beautiful woman I know. There isn't a soul on this planet or the next who can compare to my mother. She is my best friend, my mentor, and my whipping post. She can see my foul mood coming a mile away and head it off like a bull fighter. She can spot my sadness eons ahead of me and find just the right perspective to make it better. She can handle my wild, spontaneous outbursts with an even keel. She can recognize my self doubt before I even know it's crept up on me and diminish the problem with all the ease of a lioness. She can see the color of my soul through my gated eyes.

   I admire too many qualities in my mother to list them all. How do I begin to talk about her integrity or patience? Her constant devotion to myself, my brothers and our families? What sentence can describe the adoration I see in her eyes when she looks at my dad? How can you begin to say a mere thank you to a woman who raised you in the fear and admonition of the Lord? When do you find the right word for a woman who once had no car, no telephone, not even a radio, believed her husband was going to disappear with their two sons leaving her alone and pregnant with you but firmly decided 'If I have to, it will be me and you against the world, little girl.'? How can you possibly find a word to describe that kind of woman? That type of mother?

   My mother is an absolute treasure. A cornerstone. She houses a strength and love that can weather any storm. I have watched her sacrifice her life in favor of mine for 25 years. As her child, I have always been her priority. I've seen her struggle with how to be a parent. I've known her to make tough decisions that wouldn't be pleasant for me or her but in the end, I came out better. I learned. Despite giving her all to me, she has never resented me or felt deprived of her own life.

   I am her life. She is my hero.

 Strength and dignity are her clothing and she laughs at the time to come. 

She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.

She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. 

Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also and he praises her. 

Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all. 

Proverbs 31:25-29

Facts

   I've seen a lot of 'random facts about me' status updates on Facebook. I love to read those kinds of things so here is mine.

I'd love to write a book one day.

I like to have my nails done but think the price is ridiculous.

'Gifts' is my love language.

I'd love to own a store or restaurant of my own one day.

I wish I was a put together woman who's makeup & hair is always done. Heck, I'd take just knowing how to do my hair and makeup!

Although it has gotten me in trouble on more than one occasion, I like how rough & tough I am. Don't believe me? I've got the scars to prove it!

I wish I knew how many people read my blog.

I'm a very picky eater. I'm trying to work on it but come on, wheat pasta is just nasty!!

I love to hear stories about me as a child. I usually end up hugging and apologizing to my Mom afterward. ;)

I'm in constant physical pain. A skateboard & I lost a fight with a half pipe 10 years ago. I had 2 black eyes for 8 months, chipped my teeth, scarred my knee & permanently messed up the alignment of my spine but never went to the hospital.

I often wonder why God gave me 3 girls. What do you do with so much pink?!

I love musicals!

The way to my heart is simple...accept me for the disaster in recovery that I am and love me anyway.

If given a choice about color, I will always choose black. (with the exception of my coffee)

I actually enjoy physical labor and despise the fact that I can't do it because my body aches. It makes me feel like a wimp and I hate that too.

I am terrified of being a mother. Seriously. I have no idea what I'm doing and constantly wonder what permanent scar I'm creating today.

There is only one man I love more than my Daddy.

Some of my favorite things are cute little boxes, funky cups, crazy pens & notebooks.

I want to dye my hair pink but only because my Mom firmly says no to black! ;)

I want to be fluent in sign language and spanish and learn how to play the piano before I die.

If I saw Captain Jack walking down the street, I'd follow him home. However, Johnny Depp wouldn't get so much as a nod from me.

I wish high heels didn't make my feet hurt so much!

I wonder what my reputation is. I want to be well thought of and liked but I know that everybody will not be pleased and I do not try.

I'm not a good follower. I have my own mind and I will make it up for myself.

I want my life to matter.

I hate my toes!

I can't wait for my girls to get older so that I can get rid of all the baby crap in my house. Seriously, who needs that much stuff?! Only baby humans.

I want to be treasured.

I love to make things. I can sew, quilt and am learning to crochet. I wish I was better at painting but since my kids don't care if their room is decorated by Thomas Kincaid or the Easter bunny, my lack of brush stroking skills is ok.

I'd love to have land and horses one day.

I think it's cool that my eyes are blue with a ring of yellow around my pupil.

I want to grow and learn. I love to know things even if they're pointless facts.

I want to kill a deer on a hunt with my Daddy.

I despise how long winter is.

I think a career in interior design would be awesome. I love to decorate and organize things!

If given a choice of any vehicle in the world, I'd choose a 1998 Dodge Ram. (I'd just spend the money to replace the engine)

Music is my delight.

I want to travel! I've been to nearly half of the 50 states but it's not enough.

I love craft shows, festivals, and concerts.

When I eat Skittles or M&Ms, I separate the whole bag into little groups with one of each color. I then eat the largest group with the most colors first and go on down the line.

I like to stand out.

I swear I will own a mini pony one day!

There can never be too much dessert on my plate.

I want to be an encouragement in my friends lives. I want to somebody they respect and come to for advice.

If I was granted 3 wishes, I'd spend my first on ridding the world of morning breath.