The Panera Bread Shooting – Four Years Later – Remember God

Sometime in mid-January I begin to feel in my bones that this day is coming. I’m never surprised by it; the day doesn’t hang over my head or lurk around every turn. But I feel it coming.

And when I feel the day coming, I begin to write. Writing about this day is a way for me to remember, to process, and to honor Pat Dailey and Mark Logsdon. Except this year, was different. This year, I wasn’t sure if I would write at all. The words I’ve been writing in this season aren’t meant for an audience. I didn’t expect today’s words to be any different. But then, I remembered…I really remembered.

Once the calendar turns to February 10, I live in the tension of feeling gratitude and heartache at the same time. By the end of the day, I’m mentally and emotionally exhausted and ready for the calendar to turn to February 11.

Even though I’ve done so much to work through the trauma of the day, I remember the day and the details well.

“Greater love has no man than this that he lay down his life for his friends.”

And when I think of Jesus doing that for me, I can somehow reconcile it within myself. To die on the cross was the reason he came to earth, he was fulfilling prophecy, and Jesus calls me a friend.

But two police officers?

I didn’t know them. They didn’t know me. They were “making contact” as it was called — not anticipating the day would be deadly.

But friends are what the officers have become.

Heroes.

Names forever engraved onto my heart.

Three years ago, I woke up early in the morning of the day I was going to see a psychiatrist for the first time. I was really upset about this appointment. I had done all the things, said all the prayers, met with pastors and counselors, and still, I was being smothered by a fog that wouldn’t lift.

And in the early morning, I felt the Holy Spirit whisper, “if hope is your anchor, joy is your promise.”

So I anchored myself to hope. Truthfully, it wasn’t much hope but something was better than nothing.

Over time, the fog began to lift. I started to laugh and enjoy life again. Joy was the promise. And joy I was given.

Maybe I say all of that to simply say this — God is good. It sounds cliché, I know. But I say it with an authority – with some credentials behind it, if you will. I say that as someone who has been through hell before and, to be transparent with you, I’m going through a bit of a hell now. So in this season I’ve asked Him to remind me He’s good and to show me His goodness and His kindness.

Because in my humanness, sometimes I can’t find His divine goodness. It's not that it isn't there...my vision gets blurred and I don't see it clearly. As recently as last week, I couldn’t find His goodness. But I asked Him again to show me His goodness…and He was just as faithful as always. There’s a sweetness to His goodness. And once you taste His goodness, everything else is bitter.

I keep a list in my phone of His goodness. I call it, “Remember God” and under the title is this verse:

“But then I recall all you have done, O Lord;

I remember your wonderful deeds of long ago.

They are constantly in my thoughts.

I cannot stop thinking about your mighty works.”

Psalms 77:11-12 NLT

Tonight, when I write on my list of ways God was good to me today, I will write the names of the friends who have remembered me on this day. They've prayed with and for me, sent cards, texts, and messages throughout the day. These friends on this day are reminders of God's goodness to me. I'm so grateful.

Even when gratitude and heartache co-exist within my heart, He is good and He is faithful and His goodness is sweet.

God Has Answered

November 20 will always and forever be a date that is seared into my memory. I’ve been thinking about this date for weeks. Unsure of the emotion this day would bring but fully aware that there is a Jenna that existed BEFORE this date and a different Jenna AFTER this date.

We’d been trying to have a baby for just over a year. Looking back, that isn’t a very long time. But at the time, it felt like an eternity. Perhaps, especially, because I got pregnant with Ethan VERY quickly then when we decided to have another baby, it just wasn’t happening. When we finally did get pregnant, after several months, it ended in a miscarriage.

It would have been easy to believe the lies that the enemy so often wanted to whisper in my ears. Lies like Ben and I were somehow being punished or I wasn’t meant to be a mother and several others. Honestly, I was beginning to feel sad about it and I was learning to say, “okay, Lord, if all you give us is one child, I’m okay with that. I trust you.”

Then one night last fall we found out that Ben’s brother and sister-in-law were expecting a baby. I literally could not stop screaming when I saw the bandannas they’d tied around their dogs’ necks. I couldn’t stop screaming long enough to say why I was screaming, I couldn’t stop screaming to hug them, I couldn’t stop screaming when everyone told me to stop screaming. I was so excited!!

But, before we left their house that evening, Ben and I both began to feel the sadness set in. It was bittersweet — we were so excited for them but equal parts sad for us. It felt hard. It was hard. We hadn’t shared with anyone but our parents about the miscarriage earlier in the year and we wanted a baby so badly. I remember saying to Ben when we got home, “I want to baby so our baby can grow up with their baby.”

I got in the shower and I remember saying out loud, “do you see me, God? I just need to know you see me and hear me that’s all.” As we got into bed that night, a Facebook message popped up on my phone. It was from someone who attends the same church we do. I can still remember her exact message:

“Hi Jenna. This is —— from —— campus. I just feel to tell you that, the God you serve and love, sees you and knows your heart and wants you to know he hears you, he is near and will fulfill his promise to you.”

This message still gives me the chills. This person and I had only ever met once months prior, we’d never communicated outside of that introduction, she had no idea we’d been trying to have a baby, she didn’t know about our miscarriage (at the time only our parents knew about it), and she definitely didn’t know the joy and sadness we were feeling in that exact moment.

And, did you catch it? She said, “will fulfill his PROMISE (not promises) to you.” This was a prophetic word about one specific promise. She had no idea about what promise that was — but we knew exactly what it was.

My response to her, “You can’t even know how timely this word is. It is exactly what I needed tonight. Exactly. Thank you so much. I can’t even thank you enough.”

One month later, November 20 — the due date of the baby we lost — we found out that I was pregnant. I couldn’t even believe it. He’d been faithful. He’d been beautifully faithful.

Right around that time, Ben’s brother and sister-in-law had a gender reveal party — they were having a girl! A few months later we learned we’d be having a girl. Not only was God giving us babies to raise together, but also two GIRLS to raise together further answering my desire to have children who would grow up together.

I don’t know what promise you’re waiting for God to fulfill. Maybe it’s a baby or a relationship, a job, healing, redemption, restoration, freedom, a loved ones salvation, anything. Maybe you’re getting tired of praying for the same thing over and over and over again. I get it. But I know this — He WILL fulfill His promise to you. And if you ever question it (and I don’t think it’s a bad thing to be honest with our God) you need look no further than the little baby we name Eliana — her name means, “God has answered.”