Jamie Janosz

Like thousands of others, I am praying today for the people of Nepal. The country is devastated - physically and emotionally. How many lives must be lost, oh God?  I am praying for help and peace and comfort. How it aches our hearts to know that we cannot do much except pray and send a check. Such little to do with such overwhelming need. When I was a little girl - probably 5th grade or so - my parents talked about becoming missionaries to Nepal. They were both public school teachers, and they had heard of great need in that country for Christian teachers. We talked about this - as a family - and we were all ready to go. Then, the country closed to outside missionaries, and our plans were cancelled. But dreams of Nepal stayed in my heart. When I was packing for our move, I found my construction-paper covered report from 5th grade on the country of Nepal, its people, its products, and other random assorted facts written on large-ruled notebook paper with encyclopedia

I walked on the beach this morning. And, as I walked, I prayed. I asked God to be with my good friend Jill as she says goodbye-for-now, today, to her father. for Teryn who has battled illness for the past year. for my friend Amanda and her daughter Meg who is serving God across the seas. for my friend Ben and his sister Stephanie, who is grappling with a diagnosis. for my brother-in-law Dave and for Bob and his family. for my friends Rachel and James and their baby son. for Junias, and Anna, and Melissa. for so many of you who have shared with me your fears and worries and struggles and concerns. I prayed and asked God for His healing and comfort - for His peace and joy - to do what only He can do. And then the sun came out, it peeked over the clouds, and it changed everything. God can do that. We serve an amazing, awe-inspiring God who can do anything. He holds all of this - all of our cares, worries, sicknesses, fears, concerns, all

Here's some helpful job-searching advice from former graduates who are now working (many of them in their desired field)! I received so many suggestions that I'm stretching these out over two more posts. On Getting Your Foot in the Door… Volunteer! Sharon writes, “My current job, as well as one previous job, I got through volunteering.  The organization knew me and valued me as a volunteer, and thought I would make a valuable employee.” “If you can’t work for money, work for free. Don’t be afraid of a day job, but keep building your portfolio,” Karen said. Nailing That Interview . . . Candy was impressed by one particular “fresh-out-of-college” candidate, “I hired Kaitlyn right out of college. She was professional, to the interview a few minutes early, sent me a link to her online portfolio, had good questions, and seemed to be a learner. I have continued to be impressed.” Finding Job Possibilities … “Make connections and network,” advises Kaitl

As a former college professor, I still get Facebook messages from students asking me for career advice. One of the most common is - How do I find my first job? I know it is daunting. College provides a sense of security. You know exactly what you are doing for the next four years. Then, many books and exams later, suddenly it is senior year, graduation, and the unknown is thrust upon you.You are forced to make some serious choices. Should you return home to live with mom  and dad? Find a job? Get an apartment? Go to graduate school? Just a few bits of personal advice if you decide to attempt that first job search: 1) Go for your big dreams first. My first round of resumes were sent to my dream jobs. I think I had ten of them. I was wildly unqualified. I had education, but not a huge amount of experience. Nevertheless I sent those first resumes out with high hopes and prayers. I only heard back from two, but two was great! One was an actual interview. The second, my letter

I am a new resident. My husband and I moved from the Chicago area to Ormond Beach, Florida, in January. And one of the reasons we chose this town is that my husband has always loved Daytona Beach. It is one of the few beaches where cars are allowed to drive - directly on the sand and next to the ocean. Every year, we would vacation in Daytona and try to get a hotel room that looked directly at the Atlantic Ocean. It was the only time of year my night-owl spouse would rise early. He'd jump out of bed, grab a blanket and cup of tea, and watch the sunrise. Then we'd pack up the car and head to the beach. In Daytona, you can park right where you are relaxing. You can keep your belongings in your car and return to it as often as you'd like. No need to lug your children and belongings from a hot parking lot and trek to the sand. We'd open the trunk and maybe play the car radio. He loved to watch the cars drive by. Some have their windows tightly shut, air-condi

Sometimes life can be too much. Too much to accomplish in too little time. Too many worries flooding my brain. I turn to my computer, flit from page to page. I am distracted, unable to focus. Help. We are muddled, and messy, and worn. Lord, is there room for You in these crowded moments? Is there room for your peace, and hope, and light? Breathe deeply, friends. Not just to center ourselves, but to seek emotional, spiritual and mental rest in Him. Leave your burdens at His feet, knowing He cares for you. He is our resting place in times of trouble. He steps into our lives and tells us to set down our nets, to sit at His feet, to follow close. He has a better way. He is enough. Quiet your heart. Still your brain. Allow yourself to feel cared for And loved. God sees you now - even in the messy - even when we don't see Him. Knowing I am seen, and that God has my back, gives me strength and peace today. He doesn't take away my to-do l

In a local Florida antique mall, my husband and I were struck by a scenic painting that captures the beauty of the Florida coastline. Then we noticed another, and another. The clerk explained to us that these mid-century paintings were the work of a group of artists known as the Florida Highwaymen. In Chicago, we've met individual street artists, but this was the first time we'd ever heard about this group of Florida men and women who left behind a legacy of landscapes. This group of 26 self-taught, African American men (and at least one woman) sold their paintings on the side of highways in Florida in the 1950s. At the time, collectors paid $20 to $40 per painting. Today, some are valued in the thousands of dollars, and the prices continue to rise for the originals. Not only are the paintings beautiful, but they show their ingenuity, resilience, and remarkable talent. A few more facts from this helpful website: They painted on Upson board (compressed paper),

I was reading an essay, written by a female Christian author, advising strong women about the harm they can inadvertently do to their marriage if they let they don't tone down their personality. The essay left me frustrated and then a bit angry. The author was explaining how her strong outgoing nature was first very attractive to her husband, and then (after they had been married for some time), it started to grate on their relationship. She was always interjecting what she needed and what she wanted. She needed to tone down who she was in order to make the relationship work. As a woman who considers herself a strong woman - I thought this was a dangerous article. But I also know this is a real concern for many young women who find themselves considering marriage. At the Christian college where I taught, I was often approached by female students - in their final year of college - who were a bit dismayed that they had no marriage prospects and not even serious boyfriends.

Reposting this introduction to my blog for Among Friends - by Igniting Women publishers. If you haven't seen their site - they have some wonderful, short essays by some of your favorite authors (like me, perhaps?!). Follow the link at the end of this introduction to read the full essay. My teenage daughter is filling out college questionnaires, and they all ask the same perplexing question: “What do you want to be?” The problem is, she doesn’t know. Not yet. I think it’s the wrong question. Too often, who we want to be gets mixed up with a job title or a more personal goal—we want to be a pediatrician or somebody’s girlfriend, wife, or mother, for example. Maybe a better question to ask is, “Do you know who you are?” In my self-description on Pinterest, I settled on a series of words: Girly. Nerdy. Vintage-loving. Writer. Wife. Mother. Christ-follower. Truth be told, my clever little list is incomplete. You could add some not-so-flattering words: klutzy,

I'm now living in Ormond Beach, Florida, which is a small coastal town just north of Daytona Beach. We moved here in January - and I am now past the exhaustion of moving. I have loved just being able to breathe deeply and have a sense of place. We love spending time with family - and I'm enjoying NOT commuting for a change. Was it a difficult transition? Yes - I've never lived outside of the Midwest. But, despite my nervousness about a new town and a new state, I have to tell you: I love this place. Here are 10 Random Things I Love about my new home town: 1) The Beach - Now I've never been a lay out and sun tan all day kind of gal. But, I adore walking on the beach. This morning we saw the sun rise over the Atlantic - and the big, calm, wide stretch of sand goes on forever.  I can walk and bike for miles by the ocean. Sunrise or sunset. Stepping into the wet sand and letting waves hit my legs. Picking up sea shells. It is wide and grand and wonderful. 2

Beauty, they tell me, is in the eye of the beholder. But what if the beholder is yourself? Whenever I tell my teenage daughter she's beautiful, she tells me, "You have to say that. You're my mom." And I know how she feels. It is difficult to feel confident in your own appearance. Growing up, I had a terrible self image. I was way, way too skinny. I know for some of you that might sound appealing, but it wasn't. I was the kind of stick thin where clothes don't fit and boys don't look at you. I'm glad I'm past those days. Now - as I'm just about to turn 50, I feel more at home with how I look than I ever have. I weigh quite a bit more than I did back then. I look in the mirror and see graying roots and crooked teeth, but I also see kind eyes and a ready smile. I feel happy and comfortable in my skin. But, beautiful? Recently, Dove - the beauty products company - tried an experiment. On a busy building entrance they placed large

I've been thinking about average women. I know a lot of women who don't think their lives are all that special. Sure they are special in the sense that they have people who love them and who they love in return. But, perhaps, they feel they aren't making great strides in this world. They aren't an Oprah or an Angelina Jolie. A Hilary Clinton or Princess Kate. When I googled famous women, it suggested a list of 100 - living and dead. The historic women are writers and academics and social workers, the living are musicians and actresses (go figure! ). But the women I want to talk about are regular women. You work hard and rarely make headlines. Many of you have full-time jobs in addition to the work you do at home. You care for your children. You make meals. You dust. You drive lots of places. You wash clothes. Over and over and over again. When the alarm clock buzzes, you get up. When someone calls, you answer. You work hard. One of the women in m

Amanda would never ask for your help. So I will. Amanda Rinkel was my student at Moody - and I sensed, right away, she was a special person. She was a bit older than my other students with long red hair, freckles, and a serious nature. Growing up, her family operated a grist mill in Indiana. They made pancake mixes and flour as well as supplied electrical power to their neighborhood. Her family's life centered around the mill, so Amanda dropped out of high school to help. Her decision to quit school - which some of us might find shocking - came in response to a family crisis. Her mom had been diagnosed with a genetic and incurable disease: Huntington's Disease . Amanda was tested as well. She found out that she, too, has Huntington's. She doesn't know how long her life will be or how long she will be able to function well. Life expectancy is generally 20 years after symptoms begin. But, Amanda did not give in to self-pity or despair. She refused to giv

Have you ever had one of those long, extended, nightmare-style dreams that refuses to give up? You struggle to open your eyes, realize you are far away from that wretched situation, snuggle back in, and - BOOM - back in it. Even after I got all the way up this morning, I was all sweaty and twitchy - still fighting that nervous feeling from my night-long bad dream. Something about a man who would shoot at me with a giant machine gun after first calling me on my cell phone. Whenever it would ring, I would hit the floor. I have one recurring dream. I call it my student stress dream. Lost on a huge campus, I am on my way to take a test. It is a comprehensive test for a class that I didn't know was on my schedule (thus I forgot to attend). For some reason I think I can still pass the test and survive the semester, so I am determined to show up and pass the test anyway. So I'm walking, hurrying, to this "never-took-the-class-but-need-to-pass-the-test" test. And, I

My niece, Sylvie, left the Easter bunny carrots and kale last night. She said the plate was empty when she woke up (hungry wabbit), her basket and Easter egg candy were left behind. I miss those days. My "little" is now not so little. At 17, she is too old for baskets, and we no longer await the arrival of the  bunny.  Easter feels a little less magical now.  Today, for us, celebrating Easter was about family and faith.  I ate too much food, snuck handfuls of chocolate eggs, and then had some long and rather difficult conversations with one of my family members who is going through an incredibly tough time. I pray that each of you had a good day - a day that was filled with moments of sheer happiness. But, even if you are facing difficult days, I hope you stopped to breathe in the real "magic" of Easter. Not the waiting for the Easter Bunny kind (although that can be quite special), but the Jesus conquering the grave kind. No ma

Yesterday, I felt like a tourist. We packed a picnic basket with ice and drinks and bag of salt and pepper chips that I can't stop eating. We drove the few miles south to the central area of Daytona Beach. Milt loves Daytona Beach because they allow cars to drive on it. He gets to look at the water and automobiles - all at one time. For years, Milt and I have made this stop on every trip to Florida. There is something magical about waking up to the sun rising over the Atlantic Ocean, so our hotels were always upgraded slightly to include an ocean view room. The trouble with vacations is that the weather doesn't always cooperate. Many times we were at Daytona on cloudy, cool days. We would stubbornly plunk down on our beach towels, wearing sweatshirts with the wind whipping sand pellets at our faces, refusing to admit that this just wasn't working. Today wasn't one of those days. It was Good Friday and the beach was packed. We squeezed our Kia Soul into the

I was watching the television show Bones last night, and the main character Dr. Temperance Brennan (a nerdy, brainy forensic anthropologist) decides to start a Twitter feed to promote her book. But - instead of posting light, fascinating brief comments, she makes obtuse references to scholarly articles. She ends up with 10 followers. Dismal. A failure. So, at the advice of a colleague, she changes her approach. Light. Fun. Selfies. Boom - 1,000 followers. I laughed, because my own attempts at Twitter and social media self promotion are fairly dismal. It is hard to be that interesting all of the time. Or, that profound. Or, that anything. Blogging is one of my favorite things - but it has lost its joy. It has become more of a duty than a love. It is like those diaries I had as a little girl - still have about five of them. I would fill out five days in a row and then...nothing. I would write "did not write" on each page until I gave up even doing that. Consiste