Jen Russum

Happy New Year

January 5, 2025

2024 is the first year since getting married and moving to Arizona back in 2010 that I didn't post on my blog all year long. Even as we've all joked for years that "blogs are dead," I quietly took pride in the fact that I still wrote on mine at least a few times a year. Yes, readership is down. Yes, the smartphone "ruined" the medium. But I didn't care. In one sense, I blog for others -- the readers. But in another sense, I blog for me -- an archive of the moments and memories of my entire marriage and all my years of motherhood. As this past fall arrived, I began pondering my blog. Should I keep it? It turns out I actually pay to host this space online and when the bill arrives each year - obtrusively, in the middle of Christmas shopping season when I am not looking to spend extra money - I wonder if I should sign up for another year. Should I pay $100 to write nothing? Should I invest $100 and write something? Usually, in my state of indecision, I get auto-billed and the blog survives another year. While I haven't been blogging, I have been writing... micro-essays on Instagram from time-to-time, and longer form essays on my newsletter, The Truth Teller. I also created a College Guide to help Christian families find the right college. My fingers have produced no shortage of words over the past few years, but few of them have landed here. I do feel a sense of nostalgia for my blogging days and for this space. A desire to craft short narratives and summaries that highlight the sweet parts of life for myself, my children, my family and friends, and anyone else who frolics on these pages. Even writing these past few paragraphs has been refreshing. The words just tumble off my fingertips, and I don't feel the need to think and rethink them, edit, and cite. They are just here. Fresh from my mind and my heart. To start this renewed foray into blogging (maybe...), I thought I would share our 2024 Christmas letter. Our Christmas card is one of my favorite things to create and write each year, and I leave these words with you here, so that they might encourage you at the start of a new year. I’ve been thinking recently of the Parable of the Sower in Matthew 13. You may be familiar with the story. A sower goes out to scatter some seed. Some falls on the path where it is quickly devoured by birds. Some falls on rocky ground, where it can’t grow deep roots and soon withers in the sun. Some of the seed grows for a while but eventually gets choked out by thorns. And some seed falls on fertile soil where it produces grain in abundance. Jesus doesn’t explain all of his parables, but he does explain this one. The seed is the word of God. Some listen and dismiss it. The word is snatched by birds. Some enjoy the word but never grow deep roots. When trouble comes, they fall away. Some grow for a season, but eventually, the cares of this world choke out their faith. Then there are those who understand the word and spend their lives bearing abundant fruit for God. Micah and I are in our 40s now. Our oldest child is a pre-teen. I’m asking, “How do we bear good fruit here and now?” Because life is full — Zianne and Talitha play volleyball and basketball, Eisley started piano, and Diletta is begging to try ballet. We are involved in church, the girls attend Awana, and we love spending time with our wonderful neighbors and other friends. Work keeps us busy by day and dinner and homework and laundry keep us busy by night. While I am grateful for the events that fill our schedule, I don’t want the cares of this world to choke out our faith. Lord, produce fruit in us, and help us to prepare the soil of our children’s hearts so that they may bear fruit as well. And what is the fruit that God produces? He tells us. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. These are the things of God, and we have access to them when we confess our sin and put our faith in Jesus — the one and only Savior of the world. Then his Spirit abides in us and produces fruit, just as the parable says. Love, joy, peace, and more - a hundredfold. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! ... Read more

40th Birthday Barn Bash

March 20, 2023

I started planning my 40th birthday about two years in advance. It was actually after my 38th birthday (which turned out to be a delightful evening reuniting with California friends on my patio after Covid the summer of 2020) that I decided I wanted to go big for my 40th. I love high-energy nights and being surrounded by all my friends, so I decided my next milestone birthday would be a great time to throw a bash. When we moved back to Arizona a few months later, I began envisioning this party taking place in our new, large backyard. It was the perfect space to gather with 100 friends. I pictured eating hand-dipped corndogs (one of my favorite foods) and quickly envisioned a western-themed party that felt like a big country fair. In May, Micah called up the only known corn dog truck in town and sadly learned that they were booked on the Saturday of my party. Thankfully, I scoured the internet and found a new corn dog truck company called Mr. Munchies, and the owner promised me that his dogs are the best. (Turns out, he was right!). I put in a deposit on corn dogs for 100-120 guests and made the theme and date official! I emailed all my best friends and invited them to fly in for my party weekend (the downside to living in lots of places and being far away from so many close friends). I also asked my friend and neighbor Casie, who used to teach country dance lessons, to volunteer as a dance instructor at my party. She would teach two-stepping and a few line dances. Two of my friends Rachael and Janet are awesome party planners and helped me think through the setup of my yard. I ordered a little red dress and knee-high white cowboy boots for the party. (The boots are insanely comfortable, and I highly recommend them.) When the weekend arrived, the goal was simply to have FUN! With four kids and a job and lots of responsibility, it's rare in adult life to simply have a blast, so that's how I wanted my party to feel. On Friday morning, I got my hair done and then began picking up my sister and friends from the airport. The one hiccup to the weekend was the possible chance of rain (in my beloved desert where I live to avoid rain at all costs). I had my mother-in-law and one of my best friends praying for no rain on the day of my party. The night before it drizzled a little as we walked down to Casie's house to practice our line dancing. But on Saturday, we woke up to clear skies and a clear forecast. It was a little humid out but nothing that would stop our epic dance party. On Saturday morning, vendors delivered two bounce houses, a mechanical bull, and an old-fashioned popcorn machine. We were also supposed to have tables and chairs delivered, but the week before my party, the company's rental tables got destroyed in a fire, so they gave us an extra bounce house free of charge. It turned out to be a huge blessing because there were probably 50 or more kids at the party and having two jumping contraptions gave them more space to spread out and play. Our church was kind to let us borrow round tables for the event. We decorated with classic red and white checkered tablecloths and little lanterns for centerpieces. We filled my neighbor's wheelbarrow with ice and used it as a cooler for bottled and canned drinks. Gracia, my mother-in-law's best friend, made the most adorable cowboy-themed cookies for the party and carefully transported them by plane all the way from Washington State. Around 4:30 pm the corn dog truck pulled into our backyard and began whipping up the batter. The photographer arrived around 5:00 to start taking pictures and the DJ arrived to set up his equipment. The party was set to begin on our driveway. My best friends from college created an amazing backdrop for photos on our garage door, and we put out corn hole and a roping station and brought out our goat for petting, so could people could linger before the celebration began. Micah wanted the party to have a big official start (like at Young Life camp) instead of just letting people slowly trickle into the backyard. We came up with a plan that I would hide before the start of the party and come blazing in on Micah's ATV. He decked the ATV with balloons, and I hid at the apartments down the street as people showed up. When I was given the signal, I sped into the party right as the gate to our backyard rolled open. It was over the top, but super fun and it did make the party start with a lot of energy. The sun was just starting to go down, the corn dogs were cooking, the popcorn was popping, and the bounce houses were ready for jumping. Our amazing DJ started the party with "Should’ve Been a Cowboy" straight into "Ain’t Going Down til the Sun Comes Up," "Gone Country" and "Here for Good Time." If you like 90s country, the party playlist was a dream come true. We gave people about an hour to eat and play and talk and then we started the formal country dancing around 7 pm. I told my guests all I wanted was for them to dress up in country-western clothes (they did!) and dance their butts off all night (they absolutely did!). Casie taught everyone the Copperhead Road line dance since it's super easy, and then we did other classics like Cupid Shuffle and The Wobble. Then we learned the Virginia Reel barn dance and so many people (adults and kids!) joined in that we had to move tables to fit everyone. The sweetest thing the whole night is that a bunch of my friends' daughters followed me around like I was a country princess, and they danced with the adult ladies all night long. It was probably the last time we old folk will be considered "cool" by anyone younger than us. Next, we moved to the dessert and "dancing through decades" portion of the night. Our corn dog guy switched up his fryers to make mini-donuts (they were out-of-this-world good) and the DJ announced that we would dance through every decade that I have been alive (from the 80s to today). I spent so much time crafting an amazing decades playlist, and I told my DJ that my goal was to have people dancing the WHOLE time. My DJ was a bit skeptical. He replied gently with, "Well, people like to sit down and take breaks sometimes and that's okay..." But then he started the playlist and a group of 10-15 of us literally danced through every single song from Michael Jackson to Mariah Carey to Usher to Taylor Swift to Dua Lipa. It was so hot and sweaty and absolutely amazing. We ended the dance-off with a group sing-a-long to "Friends in Low Places." At the end of the night, I asked my DJ how we did, and he said, "Y'all went harder than some 20-year-olds." Mission accomplished! Being the responsible adults that we are, we had the DJ turn off the music around 10 pm and a bunch of us sat around the yard chatting and munching on leftover donuts. Even our DJ and corn dog guy hung out with us for a while, stating that we were the most fun 40-year-olds they had met. Finally, a few of us jumped in the pool with our clothes on to cool down from the best night ever. The next night my sisters and my all my best friends came over for a homecooked dinner, and we shared memories and laughed and ate cake. At the end of our dinner, it poured down rain like crazy, and I was so thankful God sandwiched my party on a dry night right between two rainy evenings. I had so much fun at my party, but the best part was knowing that all my friends and their children had such a great time too. My neighbors told me it was better than any wedding they'd attended, and some of my friends' children sent me video messages the next day to tell me about their favorite part of the party. One of my friend's daughters saw me at school drop-off the next week and whispered, "Look, mom! It's the lady that had the cowboy party!" If I am going to be famous for anything in my 40s, I don't mind if it's for throwing epic western parties and having the most joyful night with my friends and family. You can see a video of my party here and here. Pheonix DJ: DJ SandsPhotographer: Pure Joy PhotographyCorndogs and Donuts: Mr. MunchiesParty planning: The Petite Party Co.Cowboy BootsMusic playlist ... Read more

What I Learned from Three Country Concerts in 2022

March 2, 2023

This past year, I was privileged to attend three amazing country concerts. While I enjoyed the music at each one immensely, I walked away from them with a life lesson that goes even deeper than the best country lyrics. In March of last year, we splurged on tickets to see George Strait play at the Houston Rodeo for my husband’s 40th birthday. We flew all the way to Texas where we met up with Micah’s cousin and his wife and went on rides in the rodeo midway before seeing George play live — a lifelong dream. Just a few months shy of his 70th birthday, George strode slowly onto the stage and played a long but subdued set of his greatest hits. I felt a bit bad for him when he had to leave the stage and come all the way back out for the encore because the long trek and the stairs up to the stage were not easy for his aging body. It wasn’t officially his farewell tour, but you could tell that he is nearing the end of his performing days. He spoke gratefully and reflectively to his fans, saying that he would never forget the cheers and applause over all the years. We left the concert feeling so thankful that we went. You never know when it’s the last chance to hear the legends of country music play. We were so thrilled by our George Strait experience, that we decided to see another beloved country artist who is also nearing retirement. Our same group of four bought tickets to see Alan Jackson play in Arizona in September. As Alan took the stage, we were a bit surprised to see that he also looked very old in his movements and mannerisms. Curious, I did a quick Google search during the concert to find that he was only 63, younger than George and younger even than our parents. Alan put on an awesome show, but you could tell he was not very agile and looked like he might be in pain as he performed. A few days after the concert, a news article came out announcing that Alan was canceling the remaining shows on his Last Call Tour due to “health issues” related to his chronic neurological disorder, Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease. We ended up seeing his last performance of the year. The rest of his dates are supposed to be rescheduled at a later date. Just two months later, in November, Micah and I went to see Zac Brown Band perform in Phoenix. This was another band we’d wanted to see for years. However, when Zac took the stage, he informed the audience that his show would be divided into three different sets with a brief intermission between each one. After the first set, a video popped up. On it, founding band member John Driskell Hopkins announced that he had recently been diagnosed with ALS, a progressive neurodegenerative disease that is typically fatal within 5-10 years. I wondered if the breaks in the set were to allow his hands to rest, the first part of his body where he had noticed symptoms of numbness. At the end of the video, John closed with, “I hope to rock with you, my friends, for as many years as I am able.” While it was nice to see him smiling, it was a bit sobering to see this man on the stage, only about a decade older than me, facing imminent death. He will leave behind a wife and three young daughters. I share these stories, not to put a damper on your new year’s celebrations and resolutions, but because we all need a reminder every now and then that life is fleeting. It's truly just a vapor. The concerts I attended this year reminded me of that as I watched three great performers near the end of their days on earth. George and Alan are wrapping up long careers, but I’m sure they would say it’s gone by in the blink of an eye. And John Driskell Hopkins will see his career cut short. He’s only 51. Not long ago he probably dreamed of playing at age 70 like George Strait. Psalm 90:12 says, “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” Whether we get 80 years or 60 or 40, our time on earth is limited, so how do we use it well? I’m not here to tell you to make lofty goals or strive toward greater accomplishments. I’m also not here to tell you to throw in the towel and feast in leisure because all is vanity. Instead, I am asking myself, “How do I use the time I've been given for God’s glory?” and I thought you might want to ponder the same question. For me, the answer might be setting some goals for my health or my budget in 2023. It might be letting the house stay messy one night while I play with my kids. Or it might mean turning on hymns while I do the dishes and making my nightly clean-up a time of intentional worship. None of us knows how many days we have left, so let us head into this new year with the gratitude of a misty-eyed George Strait as he looks out at his 80,000 fans, the perseverance of Alan Jackson as he braces his failing body to play an entire set, and the hope of John Driskell Hopkins, as he uses every day he has left to bring music and joy to others. Number your days, my friends, and then use them well and for God’s glory, down to the very last drop. ... Read more