Jamie Janosz

Just a few mornings ago, I was listening to Jen Hatmaker's audio book Of Mess and Moxie as I walked the Atlantic beach. Hurricane Irma was still dancing in the distance, and I was trying to figure out lots of details: evacuation possibilities, canceling travel plans, where to get gas and water, whether or not to pick up my daughter from college. The usually peaceful walk was being marred by my ADD mind of distressful random concerns. But in her "I've got your back friend" kind of way, Jen gently spoke into my earbuds, "We are not to be consumed by a spirit of fear." And then, she said something that made me tear up a little bit, "Remember...fear is a liar." She's right, you know. Fear tells us crazy, horrible things. Fear whispers into our deepest insecurities and shouts that we are never, ever going to make it through whatever trial is ahead. But God tells us something else. Over and over again, we read, "Fear not" in th...

On my morning walk, I saw a 40-something man and woman jump out of their beach patrol van and run to the sand dune about 500 yards from shore. They were checking a sea turtle nest. May to October is sea turtle season on the Atlantic coast of Florida. This is the time when the mamas come ashore to lay their eggs, and Floridians takes this sea turtle stuff very seriously. Volunteers carefully mark and protect each nest, putting wooden stakes in four corners around the perimeter, securing it with a line and a stern warning sticker – not to disturb the protected nest. Almost every day, you will see volunteers trekking up and down the beach stopping to check each and every nest on the miles of shoreline. They’re looking for any damage (there are laws against disturbing the marked nesting zones), and they set up new markers when beach goers call in a sighting. They’re waiting. Waiting for those babies to hatch. When they hatch – it is amazing . The little babies...

I'm reminded today, to be thankful for the normal. Even for ice cubes. Following the hurricane, there was no electric and no clean water. Ice became a hot commodity in our community. We arrived at the grocery store and someone said they had just delivered 10 pallets of bagged ice. People were joyful - carrying two or three bags in their shopping carts. Milt and I rushed to the aisle only to find it was gone all of it...not one cube to be found. Ordinary ice. Ice cubes that I take for granted. I throw them out if they fall on our kitchen floor or if I accidentally put too much into my cup at the soda fountain. I've received a huge reminder that we are to take nothing for granted. Normal is so good. And everything that we love or hate or even whine about can change in the blink of an eye. The hot mug of coffee I am drinking is a gift. That bed that I slept in is a gift. That person who we hug or argue with is also a gift...a tremendous gift. Even the lon...

Moving from the Midwest to Florida, I had certain expectations. Some good. Others bad. I looked forward to throwing away my down coat and my plastic ice scraper. I worried about humidity and hurricanes. Well, I've been here for six months now - January through July - and I have a much better idea of what there is to love (and maybe not love as much) about my new home. What you give up... 1) Grass Lawns . The grass in our Florida front yard is crab grass. They have all sorts of fancy names for it here, but it is definitely the stuff we tried hard to kill in the Midwest. This is weedy, finnicky grass. The ground is sandy. Even after what seemed like a drenching downpour, the sand appears untouched and parched. Yes, we do have green lawns - but if you look closely you can see the difference. 2) Seasons . Perhaps my biggest shock was to give up any semblance of seasons. I remember stopping at a restaurant in December and hearing a Christmas carol. Why are they playing Chr...