Everything Is Possible

by Jen Bricker

  I guess when I was hating on overweight people, I was acting more like that shuttle driver than I’d care to admit. But we all, at our core, are just human beings, capable of messing up not once, not twice, but over and over again. When we make assumptions—and we all do—we fail to recognize how our personal beliefs and prejudices are coloring the way we think. So why do we do it? Because it’s easy. Because it feels real even when it’s not. Because we tend to see and hear what we want instead of what’s true. People make assumptions because they don’t have the courage to ask questions or to try to understand. We think we know one another, but we never truly give ourselves that chance. When we judge others, we miss out on the opportunity to connect. And that, to me, is the greatest tragedy of all.

  BELIEVE IT!

  Haters Gonna Hate— You Don’t Have to Take the Bait

  I will never apologize for being who I am or doing what I love. Whenever you follow your passion, you can bet people will judge you, stand in your way, or make you feel bad about your choices. They will watch and wait for you to mess up so they can jump in and say, “Told you so.” Or when something great happens, they will rain on your parade and try to make you feel unworthy. Usually, these types are not bad; they just lack meaning in their lives. They resent you for feeling fulfilled when they feel so empty. For this reason, I don’t get mad when people hate on me. I know it’s not about me; it’s about them. I take the higher road. Think of yourself as Teflon. Nothing—especially nasty comments—can stick to you. And respond with love. There’s no need to argue or prove anything. Instead, be kind, compassionate, and calming. It’s possible to change hatred into love, negativity into positivity, envy into friendship. It all starts with understanding. Haters need love, but their bad behavior gets in the way. Look past it and respond with an open heart. Sometimes that small gesture is all it takes to turn someone from being against you to being on your side.

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  CHAPTER FIVE

  Keeping the Faith

  * * *

  But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.

  —James 1:6

  My mom says that when I was young, maybe five, I told her very matter-of-factly, “I’m gonna live in a city, and I’m gonna be famous.” I don’t remember saying that, but she thinks I must have had a vision. I had to have known it somehow.

  I also knew at ten years old that God had a huge plan for my destiny. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew I was going to change the world and help people.

  I don’t remember a time when my family didn’t go to church—it was an essential part of my life and my upbringing. When my parents first adopted me, they threw a huge baby shower in the Hardinville Christian Church basement so friends and church members could meet me. My mom is a mighty believer. She grew up going to church, and she’s witnessed God move in her life. She’s seen prayers answered and dreams come true (that would be me!), and her faith is iron strong. Without faith, she tells me, without trusting God, life is void and meaningless.

  I do believe that. My life without God would feel empty—like a huge hole in my heart and soul. You can try to fill that hole all you like, and people do. They fill it with drugs, alcohol, food, money, unhealthy relationships. Have you ever wondered how to fill the emptiness you sometimes feel? What do you reach for? Who or what do you turn to? What I’ve learned is that God fills you up with joy, peace, wisdom, gratitude, hope. God is the only reason why anything in my life makes sense. The only reason I have anything is because of Him, and I know that without His guidance, I’d be a train wreck, a hot mess. I know I’d be broken. He is my strength, my perseverance, my clarity, my perspective. And I owe so much to my parents for putting those wheels in motion. They introduced me to God’s greatness. They opened the door.

  Everyone in Hardinville went to one of two churches. Ours was right beside our house, so we could walk over. We had a couple different preachers during the time I attended there. Pastor Joe Putnam and his wife, Lois, served for several years and were really good friends with my parents. When I was five years old, I had these red-frame glasses with no lenses that I insisted on wearing to read. My mom called them my Sally Jessy Raphael glasses, and I did look a lot like the talk-show host when I wore them. I guess I thought they made me look serious and scholarly. Lois led the singing in church, and when she told us to get out our hymnals, I piped up, “Wait! I need my reading glasses!”

  The church was so small, just big enough to accommodate the twenty or so people who came to Sunday services. I remember there were mainly older people—very few kids—but it didn’t bother me. I liked grown-ups. I held my own among them. I can still picture the rows of pews with green cushions and a place to get baptized to the right of the stage.

  My parents and my church taught me to love and fear God—but not like He’s some big bad wolf. God is good. He keeps His promises. In return, we honor Him with our respect and reverence. He commands us to live a certain way and calls us to follow Him and give up our own selfish desires of the flesh if they are not in alignment with His will. But everything He commands is for our good, to set us up for the best possible life. I didn’t always understand that as a kid. I thought there were too many rules and lessons to follow. It felt overwhelming. How could I ever live up to God’s expectations? How could I ever be so perfect? As I grew older, I realized God doesn’t want perfection. He simply wants us to try our hardest, and He forgives us when we don’t measure up. He wants us to have a relationship with Him. When you get to know Him better, you get to know yourself better. You see yourself through God’s eyes.

  My parents taught me that God is above all, and He is to be honored and respected. He is the reason we prayed before meals. He is why we prayed at night before going to bed. We thanked Him for the day and asked Him to protect us. I remember my mom teaching me the words to the prayer “Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep.” I would be in some pink, frilly nightgown, next to her at the side of my bed, palms folded together, eyes closed, reciting:

  Now I lay me down to sleep.

  I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

  If I should die before I wake,

  I pray to God my soul to take.

  If I should live for other days,

  I pray the Lord to guide my ways.

  That prayer has more to it, but that was about all I could remember as a child! My mom taught me to bow my head out of respect for God and all He has done for us. She told me that angels were always surrounding me and protecting me. I envisioned them as magical creatures dressed in white, flying around with wings and maybe playing harps. I now see them as warriors. They protect me. They defend me. They vanquish my enemies and my obstacles. I have no doubt that angels watch over me—I’ve seen them in action. I’ve felt their presence when something could have gone horribly wrong but didn’t.

  * * *

  My VIPs

  My Friend: Courtney Grant

  The first time I met Jen was in the Orlando airport. It’s a long story, but in a nutshell, I was her new roommate who moved in when she was out of town. Her other roommate, Nick, had asked me to come along with him to pick her up. From what I hear, she wasn’t all that thrilled about having me as a roommate. I didn’t have a job or a car, and she said, “Oh no!” But I won her over, and we eventually lived together, all three of us, for more than a year.

  Jen is the only person (besides her family) who calls me Grant. It’s how I introduced myself to her—I had an agent at the time who thought it would be a better name to use while I was modeling. Now I’m back to Courtney, but to her I’m still Grant, and that will never change. She always can make me laugh, and we are best friends. There isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t see, call, text, message, or Snapchat each other. She’ll go away on a long trip for work, and I’ll say, “Bye, have a good one.” She’ll get all angry at me. “Why aren’t you sad? Why don’t you miss me more?” And I’ll say, “Gee, Jen
, I know you’re going to send me a message the second you get to Dubai or Japan or wherever you’re going!” We’re that connected. It’s not like an ocean or a few continents are going to keep us apart.

  Over the past eight years we’ve known each other, we’ve grown so much together. I think God has a huge plan for her life. She’s someone people are just drawn to because of the energy she puts out there. You can’t explain it. It’s just Jen. She’s the most giving person, and when she wants you to be a part of her life, she is all about it and all in. I love being on the receiving end of that.

  * * *

  In preparation for Easter Sunday services, my mom would take me shopping for a new dress at the mall, and we’d pick out something pretty, usually with lots of ruffles and lace, though one spring I switched it up and did navy blue with white polka dots. One year right before Easter, I decided to cut my hair into a bob just below my ears. Because everyone freaked out so much, it was the first and last time I sported a short ’do. My long hair is my trademark!

  Learning to Celebrate God

  I started going to Camp Illiana, a church camp, in sixth grade. It was a little more than an hour away from home and just across the Indiana border outside of Washington, Indiana. The first time I went was amazing: an entire week of epic worship music, singers, and guitar players. They sang the coolest worship songs, like the ones I’d heard on the Christian radio stations, filled with passion and conviction. As I and the rest of the campers sang along, we raised our hands in the air, literally swaying to the music. I’d never seen people worship this way. People at my church were pretty mellow and just sat there during services. They didn’t rock it out! I felt very uncomfortable at first, but then I found myself forgetting to be self-conscious. I let the music and the words fill my soul, and soon my hands went up in the air.

  The camp was secluded and small, but to me it seemed immense. You had to go up and down huge, steep hills throughout the property to get to the cabins or to worship or to eat. I would look up at the trees scraping the sky and notice the sunlight peeking through them. It felt so safe and peaceful there—shut out from the rest of the world. I also loved all the great activities: we had two pools, an epic zip line through the woods, a giant swing, kayaks, canoes, even a rock-climbing wall. It was heaven for this crazy little tomboy!

  After going to camp and experiencing worship and sermons in such an empowering way, our tiny church back home didn’t make much sense to me anymore. It just didn’t have that passion and fire and emotion I felt should be part of how we celebrate God. I told my parents in eighth grade that I wanted to go to a different church. The Highland Church of Christ was also in town, and they went on mission trips, had a worship band, and sponsored youth conferences. My parents said they would take me to Highland, but they’d still go to Hardinville Christian Church “with the rest of the old people.” Eventually, I got them to come with me, and they switched over as well and are still members there.

  When I was thirteen, I attended a huge Christian youth weekend conference in St. Louis. I had the most awe-inspiring worship experience, almost like a rock concert because there were about two thousand of us. I was just one in an enormous crowd, but all of a sudden, I felt like the worship leaders were speaking directly to me: “If anyone is feeling led to get saved, you are welcome to come down front here. We’ll pray with you and for you!”

  The last thing I wanted to do was go in front of all those people—it would be completely humiliating. But, out of nowhere, I was hit by a wave of emotion. I started crying—and I do not cry. Ever. Especially not in public! Yet I couldn’t stop. Then I felt like I was being pulled to the front of the auditorium, and I couldn’t fight it. I went up and made the decision to be saved, right there and then. It was a powerful, spiritual, God-filled moment in my life. I can’t tell you what the catalyst was, just that I was ready. God got through to my heart at that moment, and it was the first step in my spiritual growth. I was baptized two weeks later back home in my church. It was my decision entirely, a commitment I wanted to make.

  My relationship with God continued to grow throughout my teen years, but there were constant distractions (namely, friends and boys!). I always felt like God was waiting in the wings for me whenever I needed Him. He waited patiently and never got annoyed if months or years went by between one of our long, heartfelt talks.

  When I moved to Florida after high school, I found an absolutely amazing nondenominational church called Real Life. The preacher, Justin, was in his late thirties at the time. He wore a plaid button-up shirt and jeans, and usually flip-flops. He had a bit of a Southern accent and was just a good ol’ country boy who kept it real. This church was alive and on fire for God! During every sermon I was transfixed and transformed. I walked away profoundly changed, and it felt like my eyes were being opened to a whole new understanding of God and what it really meant to be a believer. It takes strength. It takes devotion. It takes an unwavering commitment to live your life how God wants you to live it.

  I joined a young adults’ group and a women’s group that met weekly. But three days a week of Jesus time still wasn’t enough for me. I was learning so much and meeting so many new people, it was almost like church camp again. There was just one big difference: we were all now dealing with grown-up life. I was living on my own, paying bills, struggling with relationships. I needed God more than ever, and I felt like I’d been away from Him far too long. I was ready to stop being “lukewarm” in my faith. I wanted to practice what I preached and be accountable for my actions.

  One of the most remarkable people I met during this time was my friend Kelly. I was attending a Sunday service one morning, sitting in the back because I was new and didn’t know anyone. We started talking and then sat with each other every Sunday after, eventually moving up to the front row. Kelly had a faith like I have never seen before. And she was living her faith, not just talking about it. I loved watching her worship: her eyes closed and her hands lifted high toward heaven. After church every Sunday, we’d go to lunch and talk about the sermon and the rest of our weeks. It’s rare in life to find someone who is pure through and through, who walks the walk and doesn’t just talk the talk. When I think of her, I can hear her saying, “Yeah, girl, you got this!” She always reminded me of how beautiful and talented she thought I was and how proud she was of me. Because of Real Life and Kelly, I started getting more serious about my prayer life and reading the Bible, always striving to read every morning and pray every morning and night. I felt like I was growing closer to God, getting to better know and understand Him—and myself as well.

  * * *

  My VIPs

  My Pastor: Jeremy Treat

  From the minute you meet Jen Bricker, you find yourself asking, “Where does she get such strength?” Jen will be the first to tell you that it’s her faith in Jesus. And as her pastor, I can tell you that her faith is legit and that she lives her life as a showcase of God’s love and grace. As much as Jen has accomplished, her identity is rooted not in what she has done to inspire others but in what God has done for her in Christ. I love the fact that my four young daughters look to Jen not only as an amazing gymnast and a woman who has overcome obstacles but also as someone who keeps her eyes fixed on Jesus. God’s grace is shining brightly through her, and I praise God for that.

  * * *

  When I moved to Los Angeles, I had a bit of a tough time. My apartment was bare except for my laptop, a cot for a bed, and a collage from my friend Mariana that she made for my going-away party in Orlando. I only knew a few people, and everything in LA was bigger, harder, and more expensive. I prayed to find a strong Christian community of friends and a church that was as great as Real Life. It took me several years, but I finally landed at the church I’m at now, Reality LA. Hands down, it is the most exceptional and unique church I’ve ever been to, and 100 percent the answer to my prayers. Reality holds three Sunday services in a big high school auditorium. It’s primarily a millennial church, meaning wor
shipers are all in their twenties and thirties. The pastors are real, vulnerable, open, and honest people. During worship, all the lights go dim on- and offstage, so there is no distracting from the Word of God. I’ve learned that His Word is a living word, and it speaks to us on so many different levels every time we read it. For me, the same verse can apply to something totally different on a different day. Little by little, I’m making my way through the Bible in its entirety, but not just for the satisfaction of checking it off my to-do list. I am searching for its meaning, its light, its significance to where I am and where I’m going. My faith has grown because I’ve seen how God has showered me with His blessings. Honestly, I get a spiritual high from prayer. It lifts me and grounds me at the same time. It constantly reminds me that I am never alone, never unprotected, never unloved. And that is a blessing in itself. Even on my darkest days when I am feeling discouraged, desperate, or just plain ticked off at someone or something, it’s my life preserver, pulling me back to safety.

  BELIEVE IT!

  You Have a Calling

  I pray every day, several times a day. It doesn’t take long, and it doesn’t take much effort. God doesn’t expect you to give Him an entire oration! Just open your heart and speak what’s in it. For me, praying instantly brings me back to my purpose and connects me to Him. It’s a feeling of instant peace and calm. Jen, you don’t have to worry, you don’t have to stress. God’s here. He’s listening. He’s got your back! If you’re out of practice, don’t worry. You don’t have to kneel or even close your eyes. You don’t have to crack open the New Testament. Just let your heart do the talking, and God will get the message loud and clear.