Everyone Superhero Needs an Accomplice

They called him Superman.

Everyone did.

No one should have done so well

With a heart so broken.

But he did.

Because he is Superman.

Superman is really Clark Kent, hiding behind a mask, so maybe no one knows how great he is.

Sometimes what the comics leave out is the one who never needs to put on a mask.

Maybe Superman was saving the world, but there is always someone else.

While Superman was healing, his heart becoming whole again, his energy returning...

While Superman was going to therapy or the local coffee shop or eating dinner at home...

While Superman was doing this there was another hero who must be mentioned.

Superman has Lois Lane and that is who you are.

Not so long ago Lois Lane was sitting at Superman's side, through the many hours.

But now the roles have flipped and Lois Lane is the one laying with the broken heart.

We could not have a Lois Lane without a Superman.

So the comics wrote it in that Superman would live.

We cannot have a Superman without a Lois Lane.

We need the comics once again,

To give us back a superhero.

So hold on Lois Lane.

Hold on as Superman did for you.

Be the hero we have always known you to be.

Someday soon we will have Superman and Lois Lane

Broken hearts healed

Two as one, once again,

Back where we need you both to be.

Hold on Lois Lane

The comic books have not written your end yet.

Hold on Lois Lane,

We still need you here.

Sunday Letters

Dear Weekend, Your last few days have included a date night, spending an entire Saturday at the high school to work ballots for the Kid's debate, going to bed when it was already tomorrow and a 33 page paper compiled and written. Exhaustion is so underrated right now. Dear Midnight Showing, I got to see Dawn Treader with you, in 3D nonetheless. Chaperoned dates are hilarious. Dear School, Praise God (seriously) that I go on break in five days. FIVE DAYS! Dear Kid, Happy 18 Bup! Now stop growing up and start growing down. Dear Church, I most definitely chose my bed over you this morning, it was the only means of functioning. Dear Snow, I love, love, love thee. Please keep falling so I can relish in your beauty and your intoxicating scent.

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear Snow, Have I told you lately how much I love you lately? You make the air smell good, the world look pretty, and the nostalgic feelings very apparent. Dear Harry Potter, You have had a marathon on all weekend... love it! Dear 3am, 4 am, and 5 am, I have very much not liked seeing you this past week. Stop being the only time for school work. Dear Best Friend, You can stop being so grown up and a real live person now. Dear Dunkin Donuts, Your vanilla chai makes my mornings, afternoons, and evenings so much better. Not only do you taste like magic but you give me the caffeine I need so desperately (stupid word... hard to spell or something). Dear People, I know I look awful and beyond tired... thanks for pointing it out once again. Dear Christmas Break, I am sure I will love more than my Red Sox Rubik's Cube, drumming headphones and sunset pictures. Just sayin'. Dear Snow (yup, I love you that much), If the feet of snow expected to come through this week means less hours at work I would be okay with that.

Peace.

A Whole Lot of Random

I don't really have anything in depth today, nor any good letters. Instead, I think I will just go random, especially as that is how my brain works. Ready? Great! Please keep all hands, feet, and all other body parts in the vehicle at all times.

• When I clap for more than 20-30 seconds my hands become itchy
• White fudge oreos will be the death of me. Praise God they are only seasonal cookies
• I have lived in 20% of the US and I am only 23.... in the end that equals out to about 1 state every 2.33 years. That may not be right but just go with it... mental math may or may not be my strong suit
• I want a tattoo, I think
• I tend to collect water bottles the current count: 2 Nalgenes, 2 Siggs, 1 Camelback, 1 blue one with a straw, 1 blue one from Northwestern (I think)
• Accents make anyone cooler... that is accents from anywhere other than the US (excluding Boston)
• When I go on my three week break from school I will do nothing but read books, sleep, read books, take pictures, sleep, work, and then probably read books
• Numbers are either good or bad but typically not both. 5 is a good number, 13 is a bad number, 18 is a good number, 47 is a bad number
• Snow has a distinct scent and it smells good. Don't argue. Its true.
• When I finish school I want to work with kids with autism.
• I am procrastinating working on school right now because my brain is fried, something the last 8 weeks did to me.
• I am going to go write a paper now

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear Thanksgiving Week, Because of you I have to clean my room. Also because of you I have an excuse to stay home all day, not work on school, and hangout with my family. Sounds like more good than bad. Dear Grad School, Do I worship you more than I worship God? Something to be pondered. Dear People of the World, Don't use the internet to send important messages, face to face is still treasured. Dear Best Friend, You bought a house... seriously! You are the most grown up twenty-four year old I know. Four stars and two enthusiastic thumbs up to you. Dear Dunkin Donuts Vanilla Chai, Not only are you excellent but you are cheap. I am in love! Dear Harry Potter Deathly Hallows Part 1, Great way to fill the gap between 12 and 3 am. Another winning movie and looking forward to the next part! P.S. Consider shortening your rather long name.

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear New Job, You don't suck, thanks for that. Dear Chuck, Sadly I am now only half a season behind. It will be a mixed emotion day when I am caught up to live TV and only get to see a new episode once a week. Dear Parents, Thanks for coming back to town, it is nice to not be in charge anymore. Dear Weather, Snow, seriously? Well, lets decide if we want to be fall or winter. I am fine with either but not with the in-between phases and slushy yards. Dear Best Friend, I am so glad that we have figured out our friendship this week... even if we learned that Harry Potter is more important... haha. Dear Bedroom, Today I will try to ensure you have a floor and furniture that is not covered in clothes and all things moving related.

Peace.

Monday Letters

Dear Grad School, As of this moment we are fierce enemies forever. You have cost me time, energy, and my health this week and I don't think that is quite fair. Dear Chuck, I am addicted... so incredibly addicted. Dear Best Friend, Best Halloween costume idea ever. You know it is the best when you give me the idea and then actually follow the idea yourself. Dear Papa, You are a rockstar and Superman. A quadruple bypass in under three hours and then home only three days later? Rockstar. Superman. Dear Second Job, Official first day this week. Please don't suck, I truly don't have time for something to suck. Dear 5 am, Right now I hate you.

Peace.

What are We Creating?

Last weekend I drove a group of students out to the ferry so they could head out for their Fall Retreat. Aside from my sister, I knew none of the six students in my car, but in those two hours I learned a lot. I did not expect the ride to be anything but awkward silences and whispered conversation. However, I learned about families and facades, Jesus and just showing face. Maybe thinking I was not listening or maybe thinking I did not care, these students talked freely and openly and there were some things I learned along the way about church and what we are creating. This is not what all churches or all Christians are teaching, but somewhere along the way

• A lot of Christianity is about putting on a face, walking into a room and answering "Great, God is good, I am wonderful" to the customary "how are you?". But then we make our way to our seats and wonder if anyone even sees us
• There are somethings that we don't talk about, except to say not to do them- drinking, smoking, drugs, sex, porn, depression, self-destruction, suicide, abuse, eating disorders, poor self-image but do we ever recognize that people struggle with these?
• We are really good, or at least think we are really good, at hiding and pretending.

It has me wondering, what kind of culture are we creating when we don't acknowledge that we all struggle? that we all hurt? that none of us are perfect? that the world is comprised of broken people?

As I was sitting there listening to what some of these students were saying, some sharing their struggles and others offering encouragement it had me thinking that far too often we play with facades and try to tackle the world on our own. Driving down the highway, listening to these students and sharing some thoughts of my own, I began to wonder what would happen to Christianity, to these students, if somebody told them that it is okay to not be okay all the time? Struggles exist; the world isn't perfect. Hard times happen but so do good times. Living a life of solidarity does not have to become your means of hiding, there are people who want to be there, even at the lowest of times. What if instead of hiding behind cliches and Christianisms (may have made that word up, may need to consult Webster) we simply told the truth, even if it is not always pretty and perfect?

After dropping the carload of students off at the ferry, having done a lot of listening throughout the near two hour drive, I was stumped. I wanted to climb on top of my car and shout out "me too." I've struggled. I've had doubts. There have been some really hard days. I've been there but I did not stay there and you don't have to either.

On the drive back to my house, I was simply left wondering- what are we creating?

Peace.

Untitled

I am not quite sure what to say and maybe that is why I have not said anything.

Sunday Letters have not happened in a few weeks and for now I am okay with that.

I am in a place I thought I had left and not in a place where I thought I would be.

I have stories to tell but not in ways that would make sense or make them right. So, for the most part the stories have been left untold and that is probably where they will stay for a long time.

I am finding my way back to who I am and where I need to be but I would lie if I told you that it was easy.

Seeking and finding, refining and reshaping is not a comfortable or easy process.

So be patient with me, I beg of you. Be patient while I find my way back to who I am and who I am meant to be.

Peace.

P.S. I love you.

What Do You Want?

We all want of things, not necessarily selfish things, but we all want something. At the very heart of us we want something. What do you want? Do you want to...

- End world hunger

- Bring clean water in Africa

- Pass the Spanish midterm

- Jump in a pile of leaves

- Eat cereal for dinner

- World peace

- The end of prejudice

- Make a difference

- Write a book

- Finish a book

- Finish a sentence

We spend so much of our lives pursuing what makes us happy, sometimes at the cost of others. There is a funny line, an awkward balance between what makes us happy and what makes other people happy. There will always be those kind of choices in our life, whether we want them or not. But what if what we wanted wasn't about us so much about them?

Sometimes I get so wrapped up in what I want, what I want from people, what I from life, what I want from myself, that I forget there are others who are having the same thoughts. I want time and attention and love and to feel valued but I think everyone has those needs as well. But how often do I recognize those needs, those wants, of others? How often do you?

Maybe it is a reminder to myself to remember that sometimes the simplest things mean the most... say thank you, do something without recognition, say I love, make a point to make someone else smile... just do something for someone else.

What do you want?

Would you be willing to set aside what you want? for a minute? for an hour? for a day?

What if what you want is no longer important?

What if what you want was simply to make someone happy?

What would my life look like then?

What would your life look like?

What then?

Peace.

Thursday Letters

*Since Sunday was jammed packed, I did not write Sunday Letters, so today will have to do.

Dear Borders, You are becoming my new boyfriend, or at least my Tennessee boyfriend. Please don't tell BK. Dear Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum, several hours spent with you yesterday proved to be interesting. There were a lot of old artists I had never heard of and several new ones that I now like even more. Dear Books, The ability to lose myself within your words and pages is often times forgotten until I pick you up and dive in once again. Dear You, I can't explain it right now, but thank you. All I can say right now is thank you and I hope that is enough, for now. Dear OTH, You have me wondering if there is magic left in the world. If there is, if there is still magic, then I hope it finds me. Dear Friends in the MO, Lets plan the next reunion soon because I am missing you right now and yesterday and tomorrow.

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear Best Friend, spending a couple of days with you this week was amazing. However, now having "Love the Way You Lie" in my head is not wonderful. Dear Random Walker, your big smile and cherry greeting on mile 19 today made the end of the bike ride easier. Dear Second Week of Break, I love you. Please, lets make the next two weeks feel like twelve. Dear Week, I have a few books I want to finish so reading will be a priority and Borders will be my new best friend. Dear Chai Tea, I am learning to make you, please be patient with my attempts.

Peace Out.

Friends

*I forgot to write Sunday Letters this week so if you noticed my apologies...

For the past two years I have led a quasi-nomadic life. Bouncing from place to place, between family and friends, but also learning a lot every stepping of the way. I have seen friendships strengthened, sisters become friendsters (yes, angry red line I see you but I am choosing to ignore you for the pleasure of making up words), and possibilities become goals. There have been new relationships started while other dwindle away and now I am in a place where I don't regret any of it (well, except for that chai tea last night because then I couldn't fall asleep until 2 am).

After almost two years we are here. Well, not really here since I am actually back in the MO writing this from my best friends guest room (hey...) but nonetheless, "here". In a week and a half I will make another big move, this time to somewhere new and full of country music. So what have all of these changes taught me? Friends.

There have been times in the last two years where I have lived hundreds of miles away from some of my closest friends, there have been times when I have lived two miles away. There have been lots of times.

After spending yesterday with two wonderful people, I am even more appreciative (aside: I think this word has too many vowels, just sayin') of the friends I have been blessed to have. And maybe, just maybe I don't tell them that much very much. So it may sound a little cheesy, but thank you, for your friendship, your wisdom, and sharing life these past several years. I can say that I don't think I would be where I am right now without the friends (that includes you) that I have.

So maybe being, back in the same town as some great friends has made me a little sentimental but thats my prerogative (aside: I think there should only be one "r" in that word. Webster, are you out there? Please reconsider the way this is spelled in your dictionary. Thank you). But sometimes in life it is easy to take people for granted and I just want you to know that I don't take you for granted (at least I hope I don't).

At the end of the day (today or any day really) thank you for being you and letting me be me (Avatar reference anyone? "I see you." I digress). So you be you and I'll be me and we can meet under the old friendship tree.

And now I will leave while there might just be some semblance of dignity left. Maybe? No? Awesome.

Peace.

Jess

Sunday Letters

Dear Inception, I finally saw you last night and you lived up to your expectations. Christopher Nolan must be a genius, I am convinced. Dear Borders, you are my new best friend (shhh, don't tell my old best friend). Dear Angry Birds, best new app ever! Dear Grad School, last week for the quarter. A break has never sounded better. Dear Cowboy Boots, I like you even if my feet hurt after awhile. Dear Words, you are quite possibly the worlds my dangerous weapon but oh how I love thee so.

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear Chicago, You have provided a great weekend getaway. Thanks! Dear Cop and Robber, You definitely gave us a fright and some entertainment on the bus yesterday. Dear Family, Thanks for the wonderful weekend and the break from the OH. Dear Sunfire, I am sorry that I have put so many miles on you recently. There are many more to come I am sure. Dear Sleep, Sorry I have not spent much time with you recently, I really will try to work on that soon.

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear Cabin in PA, I was not looking forward to spending the weekend with you but it ended pretty well. 13 campers, three bedrooms, one bathroom, and a lot of food turned out to be pretty fun. Dear Best Friend, I shot a gun this weekend, actually two guns. Lets just say that for my first gun shooting experience I went with the mentality to "go big or go home". Dear Sweet Cece's, So stoked we found you in PA. That was surprising and delectable. Dear New Job, We start tomorrow. Lets makes this work. Dear All, Do something fun this week.

Peace out.

Jealous?

I have been mulling over some thoughts for the last couple of days and I figured I would actually put up a post of worth or at the very least something more than letters. So maybe this will make sense or at the very least let me lay out my thoughts in words.

I have a lot of talented people in my life. My best friend is the type of teacher that I thrive to be, naturally gorgeous, and incredibly wise. Tennessee can take photographs that earn her money because she is just that great. Her skills at decorating, especially on a tight budget, should place her in a magazine. My roommate is an artist in so many senses of the word; her paintings and stained glass windows filled our place with beauty and worth. Her ability to love, even when others or myself don't make it easy, astounds me. The kid can write in a way that puts the famous word makers to shame and those words flow freely from her mouth like they are as natural as someone else saying "yes". The younger, yet taller, kid knows how to draw and create art with no background or training; she is happy and typically oblivious to the bad in the world. My sister has the life, a good job, a great dog, and an amazing husband. I could go on and tell you about the friends who have full-time jobs, have paid off their loans, and have their lifes figured out- to an extent. I could tell you about a lot.

The thing is, while I love all these people there are times in my life when all of these characteristics and talents make me jealous.

I get jealous because I look at them, whoever they are, and compare my life to theirs and see all the ways I don't match up and I become jealous.

I think we all do that, compare ourselves and we are then faced with the downfall of being human- jealousy.

Sometimes I wonder, if we spend time being jealous do we have time to praise and appreciate others for the talents they have. What if when someone shows me some of their art, reads some of their words to me, or is looking beautiful I simply appreciate them rather than comparing?

The desire to compare ourselves to others can only harm us. We, even if we aren't willing to admit it, desire to be better, perfect, talented, and flawless. Yet, it we were all the same there would be nothing that makes us unique, nothing that is our own and separates us from others, makes us exactly who we are to be- unique.

What if instead of being jealous I am just thankful that the Lord has seen it fit to bless me with wonderful people who reflect Him in so many different ways?

What if I stopped being jealous and instead simply appreciated and saw joy in other?

What if?

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear Tennessee, You + me + J. + awesome house= best idea yet. Also, Cece's for breakfast= second best idea. Dear Best Friend, You living 13 hours away= bad idea. Dear New House, Try to make my room bigger in the next few weeks. Dear Sweet Cece's, Your decadent frozen yogurt and toppings may be the expansion of my waistline and the downfall of my bank account when I move to Franklin. Dear 8.5 Drive, I have a sneaky suspicion we will become great friends. Dear All, Good luck with school this week. Dear Rooms, Con Dios no hay tiempo o la opportunidad ser solo. Te amo.

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear Chicago Family, it was great having you hear to visit. Roscoe it adorable. Dear Cedar Point, one of the best Tuesdays ever! Next time I will hit the Maverick and Dragster before the day ends. Dear BK, the last week has been kind of crazy for us but it appears we may be on the same page now. Dear Franklin, so stoked to spend the next week with you. Four stars for holding the keys to my next adventure. Dear Rooms, I have my beauty assignment ready when you are. Dear Best Friend, I had a fear you would no longer be my friend after I told you who won SYTYCD. Two thumbs up for still being friends. Dear Evaluation of Quantitative Study Paper for Survey of Research Methodology, if you could finish writing yourself I would really appreciate it. Much obliged.

Peace.

Beauty

If I never saw another sunset would my last be enough to last a lifetime? Did I appreciate the grandeur lighting up the Western sky? The colors that are creativity with names we don't yet know, seen from seven stories high on an ordinary Wednesday. The design we cannot recreate, splayed right outside the gate on a summer night.

What of the sounds that create a beautiful melody? The waves strung together by the conductor of the wind to bring music in the afternoon sun.

Lying on my back, the sounds of life drifting unhindered while the light of warmth teases through the leaves of the melancholy.

And what of the stranger who held the door or the child who cleaned without being asked?

And what of the kids playing unashamed with nary a care as the imaginations lead to the world of make believe?

What of the friend who calls out of the blue and the desire to pursue what could be in a different society?

And what of the love freely given with nothing expected in return?

What is this said and what could this be?

The only word could be beauty.

Beauty in the expected and the unexpected.

Beauty in the things we have yet to understand and understanding in the things we have yet to call beauty.

Beauty in the life and the laugh, in the tears and the sorrow.

Beauty in the then and the now and the soon to be.

Beauty in and around and through.

Beauty

Sunday Letters

Dear Week, you have been insane and have barely offered me enough room to breathe. Lets try to slow down this week, okay? Dear Cousins, You have kept us thoroughly entertained lately with your antics and energy. Dear Pioneer Land, Next time lets try to keep the bees out of the water slides. Being stung in the Black Hole is not my idea of fun. Dear Cedar Point, Get ready, we are coming to attack on Tuesday. Dear BK, Sorry my life has been crazy all week and will be next week too. Thanks for your patience. Dear Nashville, I am liking the idea of moving to you so maybe you should find me a job there. Dear Bed, Nap time.

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear Back Deck, you have now been extended. Enjoy your new freedom and revel in the glory of giving me a lovely bruise and knot on my leg. Dear Rooms, your challenge for the week is simply brilliant. You already have me opening my eyes wider and throwing words together effortlessly. Dear Cousins, welcome to the OH. We hope you enjoy your stay with us. We have emergency exits here, there, and through the back. Dear Endless Job Applications, it would be nice it one you would turn up a job. Dear Blueberry Cobbler/Pie, I have never enjoyed you before but tonight you were actually quite good. Dear Right Foot, take care not to cramp up in the middle of the night again. Waking up because of you is not enjoyable or comfortable. Dear Week, be good.

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear Little Sebago, you were beautiful and brutal this week. I have the bruises and memories to prove it. Dear Lake House, sometimes we had far too many people in you. In fact, my bedroom just became a bed instead of a room since it was wall to wall beds. Dear Tennessee, after your convincing phone call I may just move down there with you. At the very least we need too see each other soon. Dear Best Friend, so pumped to share vacation stories and pictures with you. Dear Self, figure out where you are living next. Dear Jeff (or Fej), sorry my cousin stole your name tag and special license card in Wal Mart. I hope you still know who you are without your name tag.

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear Sam, I don't mind if you dance through the aisles in Wal Mart, just please try to dance in the direction we are heading. Dear Kid, last night you were snoring really loud. Instead of throwing something at you, I just went back to sleep. Dear bedroom, when over 75% of you is wall to wall beds, you cease being a bedroom and are now lovingly referred to as bed. Dear Best Friend, one word-cruise, two words- have a blast (okay thats three words)! Dear lake, one afternoon out and I have already had both elbows and one lip bleeding. I would say it was pretty successful. Dear Sequoia, you are now my favorite family car. You know why. Dear head, lets try to make this a pleasant week without any headaches.

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear body, you have picked a very bad time to get sick. Dear waterslides at PWL, today you gave me the roller coaster stomach drop feeling. I liked it a lot. Dear kids, I loved hearing about SC tonight at dinner. You both amaze me. Dear Tennessee, talking with you tonight was wonderful. Thanks for sharing in the ups and downs of both of our lives. Dear BK, I don't blame you for leaving tonight when the schoolwork made an appearance. Dear grad school, here we go, 10 more weeks in the trenches. Dear Best Friend, spending yesterday texting about "So You Think You Can Dance" quite possibly made my day. I think I will keep you around for a little bit longer. Dear Maine, I am pumped.

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear tube, I have tube burns from you. Dear pretty pretty wakeboard, sorry I had a bad run yesterday, maybe tomorrow will better. It was my fault and not yours. Dear West Branch, you were super busy today and made me a bit nervous at times. Dear arms, stop being sore from moving rocks, tearing down structures and ripping apart jungles. Sorry you took a beating yesterday. Dear last week of break, please go by slowly. Extremely slowly. Dear kids, today you left for your first missions trip and I am beyond excited for you. You two make me quite proud. Dear sugar ants, thanks for not following us back to the OH from Vieques. Dear best friend, we should talk soon. I have some things you would be interested in knowing. Dear mama, your chocolate mousse was a-ma-zing. Dear self, go to sleep. You need a nap.

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear big bed in my yellow room, I missed you while I was away. You are extremely comfortable even if we did get into a bit of a fight in the middle of the night. Dear tap water, I appreciate that you are free and not bottled. Dear Vieques, you are an interesting island but very worth the trip. Dear weather, why did you rain everyday while we were in Puerto Rico? Dear grad school, I am loving the break from you right now. Dear best friend, you have been married for a year and I absolutely loved this day a year ago, even with the broken air conditioner. Also, I love you. Dear books, sorry I have been so neglectful for the last few weeks but know I have loved rediscovering you this past week. Dear beach and pool, I miss you separately and together. Dear rooms, come to the OH and ride roller coasters, okay? Dear collide, you were super good tonight and have me pondering many thoughts. Dear self, enjoy this week and the good things that are coming in the next few days.

Peace.

Making a Mess

Several weeks ago (I know, I am slow) we were cleaning our artsy apartment getting ready to pack up everything we had there and move away, both starting a new chapter. In the midst of trying to clean our apartment we made a mess yet there was no other way to clean.

It is interesting when I think that in order to make things right we to weed through and find what wasn't right, what didn't fit. This is so often the case in life.

When thinking about growth, especially spiritual growth it becomes necessary to recognize the lies, the thoughts, and the actions that go against God and his word. I have not found it possible to simple know truth but to also know the lies that truth must replace. I could be wrong but I do believe that to recognize how good something is you must also have a grasp on what the complete opposite looks like. Maybe it is not necessary but I think it helps.

I love sunsets; I love the beauty and uniqueness that sunsets offer. If I were to see the sunset every night I would still find it beautiful. Sometimes though, when clouds have obscured or I have not had the opportunity to watch the sun dip below the western sky for awhile, I appreciate that sunset more when it wasn't been around, when I have only seen the opposite.

At times, I have to make a mess to put things in order.

At times, I have to recognize the lies to appreciate the truth.

At times, I have to see the opposite to appreciate the beauty.

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear P.R., I cannot wait to visit you come Saturday. Dear Grad School, I cannot wait to have a break from you come Friday. Dear truck, you are still very high and make me feel five when I climb up in you. Dear Sequoia, you make doing homework on long drives so much more pleasurable. Dear Kids, you and your friends were silly tonight. Dear The Killers, you were a very funny movie. Dear pretty pretty wakeboard, yesterday we were very good friends. Dear A&C, I am very excited to spend the week with you come Saturday. Dear weather, thanks for being reasonable this weekend. Dear people in the MO, I miss you.

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear Sunday Letters, sorry I was too busy to think about yesterday. Dear Sunday, you were a busy day but a very good day. Dear Collide, I think I am going to like you. Dear Best Friend, your birthday present was mailed to you last week but I don't think you got it before you left so your birthday will continue until you get back from Texas. Dear Tennessee, you are crazy, especially last night. But, I guess I am glad you can live vicariously through me. Dear Kids, you are almost on summer break. Dear Grad School, please help me get through this week successfully. Dear Rooms, I like talking to you while walking through the dark streets of my neighborhood late at night. Oh, and I miss you. Dear Truck, you are wicked high. I feel like a small child trying to climb up into you. Dear Roscoe, you make me want a puppy.

Peace.

In Which I Vent About Inconsistencies

Dear Weather/ Mother Nature/ God,

We need to have a chat. You have been quite peculiar lately, to say the least. Lets review the last few days so I can show you just how ridiculous you have been. On Monday morning we set out for the lake to enjoy Memorial Day like many others. We all awoke to blue skies, minimal breeze, and pretty high humidity. Basically, it was great boat weather but even better wakeboard weather. We were excited, relaxing in our seats, heading for a near empty lake on a gorgeous day. We were unsuspecting fools, having no idea what the next few hours would hold.

With the boat successfully launched and the skies still a brilliant blue, the Kid and I decided we would take a few turns on the tube before continuing to break our bodies into wakeboard shape. Once our arms were dead from clinging on for dear life we decided to pack away the tube and let the dad have a few ski runs. Now I will be honest weather, we didn't let him go first because we are nice but rather because our arms were dead. However, during his ride you took a nasty turn and your blue skies quickly changed to overcast. When the dad was done we thought we would let the Kid show off her wakeboarding skills but you had other plans for us.

Before the Kid could even place her board in the water you decided to throw lightning our way, quickly followed by thunder. We flew across the lake, heading for the now crowded boat launch, with the hopes of pulling out and heading for home as fast as possible. While the dad tried to quickly find the truck and back the trailer into the water, we got to feel the harsh effects of your onslaught of spring storms. You pounded us with torrents of rain, shot us with bullets of hail, and tossed us like rag dolls with your unrelenting wind.

Weather, I just want to know, what did we do to you? We were just trying to have a nice relaxing Monday holiday on the lake and you turned our joy to heartache rather rapidly. Please consider changing your ways before we try to enjoy our time out on the lake once again.

Today you once again acted like a petulant child and could not decided whether you wanted to storm or be sunny but that is a story for another day.

Love or something more akin to betrayal,

Jess

Peace.

Sunday Letters

Dear M&D, if you could organize my room for me that would be great. You might as well unpack my car while you are at it. Dear Kid, please stop showing off with your wakeboard skills. You make me jealous. Dear Sam, you are growing up too fast. Make sure you take time to enjoy life and not get caught up in the drama. Dear Best Friend, your week off from school is over so please enjoy getting lost in the world of geography. You are going to be wonderful! Dear Tennessee, it has been 15 months since I last saw you. I miss you and am completely blown away by how cute Charlotte is. Dear Rooms, I see you and you see me even when we don't see each other (lets see if you can get inside my head on this one). Dear Pretty Pretty Wakeboard, please be well behaved tomorrow so I can fly without falling. Dear Gravitron, you and a headache may be the worst combination ever invented. The jury is still out on that one. Dear Freshwater, I miss you a lot, even after just one Sunday.

Peace.

On Life and Death

Yesterday I was out riding the bike trail not too far from our artsy apartment. The trailhead is here in this college town and then runs for 34 miles into the closest biggest town. The trail runs over creeks, through fields, and immersed in the woods. It is quiet and calm, music created by running water, rustling leaves, and the occasional mooing of a cow. It is a section of simplicity in my overstimulated world.

There is the section, between a cemetery and cattle crossing that previously consisted of rocks, sand, and weeds but has recently been paved. However, I think the pavers overlooked one very important piece of information... they paved in the spring. Spring is when life that has been stamped away or casted into hibernation resumes. Everything comes alive. While that particular section of the trail was relatively free of noticeable vegetation at the time, there was still growth happening right below the surface. One day, the pavers came out in their yellow trucks and attempted to trump death with a concoction laid think over a dirt path. Their attempts were thwarted.

A few days after the asphalt was laid, I began to notice cracks and bulges, just a few but noticeable nonetheless. Each time I rode these cracks began to create little mounds, fighting against a formidable foe. Yesterday, as I rode past I noticed that where those little mounds had been there were now several inches of plant life. What was meant to stop life, what was seemingly stronger, soon erupted from the pressure of life.

I cannot help but think that death does not conquer life. Perhaps physically it is true, for we all will die a physical death but God is good and there is more to the story. Jesus, in his human body died. He died and he was buried and he was left in a tomb while people mourned. But death did not win the battle. The story wasn't over. He rose again.

Life is crazy and busy and currently out of control. Right now control, or desire for control, has been my asphalt, my own hinderance. Far too often I have not fought but instead excepted defeat, excepted death in a way. But Satan does not win. Shane and Shane said it well "... he's forgotten the refrain, Jesus saves."

Sometimes I read stories or remember the power the Christ had, to bring life, to cast away death, to defeat what was thought unconquerable. I read these things yet I so easily forget that I have the very power of Christ within me. I do not need to allow asphalt into my life, the pave over and attempt to cover up the signs of life and love. I must choose to walk in the Spirit rather than the flesh, to choose life over death, and victory over defeat.

And sometimes (or a lot of times) I forget. So, thats why it is here, not so much for you, but for me; so that I will remember.

Peace.

The Beauty in the Middle

From a conversation we had last night:

I have a love for sunsets and sunrises, though I see the former much more than the latter. The point it, I love to watch the sunset because it constantly changes and it is never the same. Sometimes it is bursting with red and oranges, other times it is muted and obscured by the sun. The sunsets and the sunrises mark the transitions, it the turning of day to night and night to day. It is easy to miss though, as life gets busy and times slips away. One minute I can look out my window and see blue skies with the sun high in the sky. Minutes later, or so it seems, the street lights are on and the sky in dark, not just dim, but dark- middle of the night dark.

And if we miss what happens in between, we miss a lot of the beauty.

Its the same way with life... you can see the beginning and the end but you can't check out for the middle. Sometimes I wish I could check out, not have to deal with the details and the messes that are in the middle because sometimes the middle is not always pretty. Sometimes I wish I didn't struggle or doubt, feel insecure or unvalued. Sometimes I wish the tears never happened or emotions weren't all over the board. But if those wishes were to come true, I would miss a lot of the lessons, a lot of the community, and a lot of the beauty that has come from the mess.

So often it is easy to go from day to night, from light to dark, without taking the time to see the beauty in the middle, in the details. Don't forget the sunset. Take the time to see the middle, to see the details, to see the beauty even in the pain or the struggles.

Peace.

In Which I Explain "and a parachute"

If you were to take a look at my blog address/url/whatever it is called you would notice that, when properly spaced, it reads "18 inches and a parachute." So, what does that mean? Well, I will tell you... at least the second part.

Today, in my Wednesday meeting, we were looking at Ephesians chapter 3. (By the way, we have been studying Ephesians at church too... apparently it is the season for studying Ephesians and I am very okay with that.) So, there is tons of truth and loads of cool thought that can be drawn from this chapter but I am just going to focus on a few verses.

Ephesians 3:17b-19 And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge- that you may be filled with the measure of all the fullness of God.

Paul is calling the Ephesians (and us) to grasp how great the love Christ has for us. But that's the thing, because we are humans, we cannot fully grasp or understand this love. We can't wrap our minds around it. There are no limits to it. It is wide and long, high and deep, and there is nothing we can do to make Him love us less. There is nothing I can do that will make Christ love me less. Sometimes I forget that because it goes completely against my human nature and extent to which my mind understands.

I can sit here and talk about how that love exists. I can say that there is nothing I can do to make Christ love me more or less. I can tell people that I have this one in the bag. I can give all the right answers. Yet, all of that is talk... not that it isn't true, but it is just talk until I put faith behind it.

For years my dad, older sister, and I have talked about going skydiving. On random days text messages and e-mails are sent trying to decide where we want to go skydiving, when our schedules will put the three of us in the same place long enough to actually make this happen, and how our desire to jump out of an airplane keeps getting greater and greater. We talk a lot. I think about it a lot. I could do research on parachutes, watch YouTube videos on parachutes, and listen to instructors tell me exactly how it will work. I can see demonstrations and read books.... I can do a lot of things. But, there is going to come a time when I will have to have faith that when I jump out of that airplane and fall thousands of feet that parachute is going to deploy when I pull the cord.

At some point I am going to have to stop talking and have faith that the parachute will do its job and get me back to land safely.

Love, God's love, is exactly the same. I can talk and read, study and think all I want but eventually I just have to have faith in something I don't understand, something I cannot fully grasp. So when I jump, I jump in faith knowing there is a love beyond my control and my understanding.

Love is a parachute.

Peace.

In Which I Write a Letter

Dear Grad School,

You selfishly take all my energy, money, time, and words. It would be quite nice of to give me something in return as opposed to more papers to write and more bills to pay. In fact, if you could give me back some semblance of a social life and get me a job, I would be more inclined to appreciate you in this moment. Right now you have tied my hands behind my back and have created in me such a strong feeling of procrastination that I find myself writing songs about marrying rich, or finding a job, or have a house with a mouse that would eat all my papers. I would do almost anything to avoid writing another paper but our house is already clean and my clothes are already put away and my bike has a flat tire. I am forced into a corner where you are the only means of escaping.

Grad School, people tell me that the payoff for fraternizing with you will be great in the end. However, I wish we could fast forward a year and a half so I would have my diploma, you would have your money, and I might have a job doing something I fiercely enjoy. Then perhaps we could have a much more amicable relationship. I am not mad at you, per se, I am just not fond of you as I am writing my third paper in as many days.

My dear friend and nemesis, Grad School, lets be better friends today. We could do things like swing on swings late at night, go on picture taking adventures, take a long nap, or simply watch a good episode of OTH. Instead, these are the things you keep me from doing. But alas, there is a part of me that does appreciate you. Please don't hold this tiff against me for I am hopeful I will get over it soon.

Some of my love, most of my money, and all of my current frustration,

Jess

In Which I Say Random Things

There is going to be a stream on conscience, so I cannot guarantee that I have much of worth to say at all but I will probably just ramble.

The weather has been so nice lately that it has resulted in lots of walks and bike rides. Both of which I enjoy. Oh, and reading outside. I like books. A lot. There has also been lots of picture taking because things are coming alive once again. But, that also means there have been tons of rabbits on the trail. I guess they come alive in spring too... and procreate... and run all over the trails like I am about to maul them over with my bike. Which I don't do. In fact the other morning we went on a sunrise ride. I am still not sure what I was thinking when I willingly volunteered to get up at 5:50 and ride a bike for a few hours. I must have been on something. It was worth it though.

Tonight I sat on a cliff at a park I had never been too and talked about how simple life seemed there. There weren't people around but there was music. Well nature's music. There was the sound of leaves being slightly rustled by the wind, water swiftly flowing over the rocks far below us, and the occasional call of a wayward bird. It was beautiful music without the distractions of ringing phones and speeding cars. There, on that cliffside, life seemed so idealistic and simple. If we had stayed there for hours, I would have been content; watching the day turn to night, taking photographs to freeze moments in time, and simply being. Life is very rarely as simple and filled with contentment as those moments were. Sadly though, reality can only be put on hold for so long.

Last night I found a blog post the kid wrote while visiting me last month. I had forgotten all about it until I had the desire to get inside her head. (She is far too wise for her own good sometimes). Unfortunately, I had recently cleared the history on my computer so I had to trace it through Tennessee. It was well worth it. Though long, it talked about beauty and the way she explained it is astonishing. She traced it back to the garden and how God spoke everything into being yet he formed us with his own two hands... definitely a difference in the two things. Later, sitting around our kitchen table, which we rarely use, I read it to my roommate and it sparked a great conversation. The kid may not like me for this, but here it the link to the original post. It is beautiful.

Okay, I think I am done rambling about nothing important at all. Off to shower or work on school or put away clothes or just exist.

Peace.

In Which I Procrastinate

Things I should be doing:

- I should be writing a paper or three.

- I should be unpacking my bag and my laundry basket and my backpack from when I got back. A week ago.

- I should be making or eating breakfast, other than chocolate, since I have been up for four hours.

- I should be vacuuming (such a weird word) our living room since I just crunched some cereal, among other things, into the carpet.

Sure, things I should be doing but am not currently doing.

On church last night:

- Last night, the rooms and I were going to go to church, we really were up until about one minute before we were supposed to leave. Somewhere between me changing clothes and the rooms standing in the kitchen talking, we decided we were no longer going to church.
- When we were supposed to be at church we instead sat in our living room, windows open, watching twilight grow into darkness while we talked for a really long time.
- And skipping church to talk? Totally worth every minute.

*Apparently, this is turning into another list post... if you haven't picked up on that yet. My blog, my rules. Which really means I just make up things as I go.

On bike riding:

- Yesterday I went for a bike ride, four and a half miles out into the country where I sat on a bridge and read for an hour.

- Yesterday, after sitting on the bridge, I climbed back on my bike and somehow cut open my knee... deep. I then rode back into town with a thick trail of blood from my knee to my sneakers. Im not even sure what happened... I am that talented.

On Glee:

- Currently, Rachel on Glee is singing "Gives You Hell" by Pink.

- There is a guy, don't remember his name, who can really dance.

- I don't understand how Mr. Schu can wear jeans everyday as a teacher. I need to be a teacher in his school.

On random things:

- Grad school is back in full swing.

- Thursday nights are my new favorite nights I think.

- The weather has been getting into the 80's here but we don't believe in air conditioning. As a result, the rooms and I both sleep with our doors open which usually never happens.

- Someone should figure out my life for me and then leave me a map and maybe a compass.

Off to be pretend to do something productive.

Peace

In Which I Make a List

I am laying in my bed, in my artsy apartment, listening to my neighbors washing machine run and the sound of my roommate's fan from down the hall. I am decompressing and as such, feel the need to make a list. Or perhaps turning these thoughts into a list is the only way to make them make sense.

- I drove about 700 miles today. As that trip ended, I have now put over 2,000 miles on my car in less than two weeks

- If I were a superhero traffic and construction would definitely be on my list for a potential arch nemesis.

- I am in love with sunsets. And cameras. And the combination.

- Jo Jo, my GPS, gets a little zooly when we cross back into this state.

- Zooly isn't actually a word. I was trying to write wonky in a text earlier and T-9 translated it as zooly so I went with it. Maybe it will be my new word.

- The height difference between my bed here and my bed at my parents house is astounding.

- I wish pomegranates were in season.

- I am ready to get back out on the water with my pretty pretty wakeboard.

- Hit the worst rain I have ever experienced while driving today. I literally prayed for my life. My prayer was answered the way I desired.

- Driving for 13 hours with no cruise control sucks.

- Ever year I forget how freckles pop up on my face and arms when I start getting tan. I remembered now, after seeing them.

- Spring quarter for grad school starts on Monday. In some ways I am looking forward to having something productive to do with my time once again.

I need and want sleep.

Peace out.

Time Frozen: Thoughts on a Sunday

Two days ago, the temperature here in the MO was in the upper 60s and the sun was shining bright. I sat for hours on our porch, reading words, and thinking thoughts.

One day ago, I awoke to rain and temperatures not even reaching 40 degrees. Time turned and the snow turned to rain and the black roads turned to white.

Today, the first weekend of spring and the snow has turned to rain and perhaps back again.

Two days from now, the temperature is to return to the upper 60s, melting away the snow and ice.

This isn't really about the weather. Certainly the weather plays an aspect into this, wishing I could have frozen time when I was sitting on my porch, filling my mind with words and warming my soul from the outside. I enjoyed it then, but not as much as I should have. It was a moment undone that I wish I could redo just so I could appreciate it a little more. Maybe then I wouldn't have been annoyed with the wind whipping my still wet hair across my face. Maybe then the wind chimes from the door below our apartment would have sounded more musical than distracting. If I had known what the next day would bring, would I have frozen time?

Twenty minutes ago I was wrapped in my cocoon of blankets and pillows, buried in a world of words when I started thinking about the idea that time outside of my own stands still when I am not there. Sometimes when I am in a busy store, or walking down a people packed street I imagine that mine is the only life that is moving. That is meant to be narcissistic but rather a thought that the unknown means there isn't a known. I see these people, these strangers, and while in reality I know that they too have lives outside of those moments where our worlds collide, I have this jaded thought that maybe they only exist in those moments.

When I run through neighborhoods or drive down country roads I see houses and unless I know the people who live there or see the people who live there, it is hard to remember that people do live there. It is as if because I do not know, then that is frozen in time, exactly how I see it at that moment. In the same regard, if I see something I know, little kids or foreign countries, it is all too easy to believe that when I leave for any extended amount of time then when I return those people and situations will be exactly the same when I return. That tow-headed not quite five year old will be exactly the same when I return six months later. Yet, the child standing in front of me is not the same as they were six months ago. Time does not freeze.

I like to travel and I tend to travel. It is not the extravagant backpacking through Europe or off on beach vacations on remote islands. Most of the time it is continuing to carve the 800 mile path between my artsy- not by my talent- apartment and my family's house in the OH. The majority of the time, that path is carved by my car but sometimes I am blessed with the luxury to fly. Airports are a great clash of cultures and people. They are filled with people who are going anywhere and nowhere all at the same time and never at the same time in one swoop. Yet, inconsequently airports are one area where I do not have the tendency to believe that time is frozen.

I see the business people, lugging their briefcases, tugging their carryon rolling bags, and constantly on their Blackberry or iPhones. I see the families letting their small children run amuck in the hopes they will turn into angels once they board their plane. I see the bleary eyes college students catching late night flights in hopes of spending a seemingly short weekend at home. I see the happy couples too wrapped up in their own love story to even think another world exists around them. I see.

Maybe thats the point. Maybe we are supposed to see, to realize others have stories. Maybe we need to come to term with the fact that time does not stand still because time is meant to be lived. And not just in our lives, but in others as well. When I see people, when I am so wrapped up in my own story, maybe time doesn't stand still so I will recognize the importance of other people having stories as well.

Two days ago I wished time would freeze so I could go back to that moment of warmth and sunshine. And maybe thats the point.

Life is supposed to be lived.

Normal?

In the past week I have tried to live a normal life, at least a normal life for me.

In most regards, I have failed miserably:

-I have not had typical sleep patterns... well, I guess worse than usual.

-I have not had typical eating patterns.

-I have not had typical work patterns.

-I have not had typical crying patterns... which, really means I have just cried.

-I have spent too much time thinking and then time refusing to think.

In some ways, I have created a new normal.

Life has been messy in the last nine days. But there are people who have been there for me through the mess.

Life has been beautiful in the last nine days. But, this is a different kind of beautiful.

Life has been filled with a million emotions. But, some that I do not appreciate.

It has been hard and messy, emotion filled and draining. It has been reckless and unpredictable.

It has been a wonderful and real example of community.

It has been life and for now I guess thats a new normal.

You and You and Me

Lost, looking for the words that will somehow make it okay. Seeking some sort of justice or fairness or sensibility in all of this. Reality though, my thoughts scream out that there is nothing fair or even right in a situation like this. It doesn't make sense that tonight people will gather to see, one last time, a girl whose life was far too short. They will sat goodbye to someone who never should have died; not in this way nor in this time. Twenty-one years is too far too short to be a lifetime.

Tonight, last night, Tuesday night, a little baby was put to bed without her mother there. Not even a year old and she will never again have her mother there to hold her, comfort her, kisses away her mistakes, or cuddle her through the night. What, of this, is good or right? Two parents, an older brother with a wife, a daughter, a boyfriend, friends, and family will say goodbye and I don't know how that is okay. Yet, somehow it has to be okay because there is nothing that can be done to make it change.

Tomorrow morning, people will fill a church to say goodbye, one last time. People will celebrate a life that is suddenly clouded by darkness. And I will sit here, without enough strength to make the trek three hours away. And maybe you, whoever you are, don't understand that I can't do it by myself. Yes, I know the people, I know the family, I will see a room full of classmates and school mates, but I cannot do this one my own. I cannot climb into my car, driving three hours away, by myself, knowing what the end will hold. I cannot climb back into my car and drive three hours back, knowing what I left behind. So maybe you don't agree or maybe you, whoever you are, think that I am making excuses, but I can't do it. I am sorry but I just can't.

And you, I know who you are, have let me cry on your shoulder, hugged when I could not speak, played with my hair until I fell asleep, and have been there. And you don't quite know what to say, but thats okay cause neither do I. But thank you for understanding even when you don't, even when I don't.

And me? I don't know what to say when the tears reveal so much more than I desire someone to know. Two days ago was one of the best days, package day, until I heard that the person were praying would pull through, the person I thought would live, would never again open her eyes. And right now, that is not okay. These are my words, trying to make sense of the chaos and coming up short.

You and you and me.

Verbal Butt-Kicking

I have been in a funk since Sunday night. It's not a good or healthy place to be. I didn't know what to do with myself and to be quite frank, the roommate didn't know what to do with me either. So we skirted around each other, her going to class and me going for a long walk through soaking snow.

Then, a little after ten, the roommate got back from work and I got a verbal butt-kicking. Sometimes, the truth hurts and its hard and its right to your core, but its the truth. And sometimes the reason that it hurts, at least for me, is that I am not living in the truth in those moments. The roommate told me she was scared to tell me the things that she did because she didn't want to ruin our friendship but she loved me too much to let me stay where I was. So she took a risk and followed God.

I didn't say much, assuring her that it was not because I was hurt but rather because I didn't know quite what to say. So I went to get ready for bed, only to come out a minute later to say thanks and get a hug I think we both needed. Then I went to bed, mostly sleeping for the first time in a long time, until those early morning hours. I woke up, not quite sure why and not quite able to go back to sleep. Instead, I talked to God for awhile and then moved to the couch for some Pride and Prejudice followed by the Today Show until sleep led me back to my bed where I slept, barely hearing the roommate get ready for class and leave.

A wonderful feeling overcame me as I sat on the couch, eating my breakfast, at nearly noon. It was with delight that I was able to tell the roommate that hard words from a roommate, some time with Jesus, and lots of sleep can makes a much happier me, with a much better attitude. And we were both happy, not because things are okay for the moment but because things are okay and its okay when they are not okay because God is there, even when I want to ignore Him. I am sure that will not be the last of the verbal butt-kickings, and even though they hurt, I am thankful that someone cares enough to address the hard stuff.

Peace,

Jess

Random Compilation

• The hour is getting late and the night has long since been dark. My roommate is already asleep, just down the hall, in the room that isn't hers but has become her nighttime home for the last few months. I am tired and awake, a great contradiction but one that has become my new normal. I love sleep but it has also been an enemy recently. The power of dreams is far too strong, but I know there is something more powerful as well. The minutes tick by until its light again, until I can sleep in peace. The morning light brings renewed relief.

• When I returned from a month away, I grew convinced that the best friends new goal for 2010 was to get me back to church. So, I went and took the roommate. We found a new church, the one the best friend and her husband attend that has only been around since September. Church is good, at least this church is really good. There has been a lot of talk about community which has lead to more than one discussion between the roommate and I. Community is a great thing but it also sucks because it is vulnerable, real, and hard. Our pastor (can I call him ours is we have only been twice? Doing it anyway) was talking last Sunday about how we should live all lives. We all have baggage, things we carry around, trying to hide from, behind or with; regardless, we all have it. Its like when you go on vacation- traveling there your clothes are folded and neat, everything in its proper place in the suitcase. Yet, on the return trip all the dirty clothes are just thrown in there, underwear mixed with t-shirts in this great mess. Of course, it is then when your bag gets searched and everyone gets to see your baggage, dirty underwear and all, feeling like everyone is seeing those things you wished to keep hidden. But, what if we lived that way, lived in such a way that we didn't feel like we had to keep our dirty laundry hidden and instead aired our laundry out, not for judgement but for growth. And maybe, just maybe someone else can see our messes and stand up and say "me too."

• Life is hard sometimes and its okay. Its okay to not be okay. Its okay to need people even if you don't want to admit it. Its okay to not have life figured out or to be living the life you thought you would be living. Its okay to be vulnerable, whether intentional or not, with someone else. Its okay to not know what to say or what to do. Its okay. At least that is what the roommate and I have been telling ourselves and each other. And you know what? It. is. okay.

Midnight musings coming to an end while there is still some semblance of them making sense.

Peace

Jess

Society Against Community

I have come to realize that we live in this society that is utterly against community. Now, that isn't to say that everyone in our society is against community, because I know that isn't true, but rather that a lot of what our society pushes is against the concept and the reality of community.

How do I know? Because I see it everyday. I live it. I aide it.

Think about it, think of all the things we have that can cause us to disconnect all the time:

iPods and MP3 players

Computers

Video games

TVs and DVDs

Personal DVD players

Now, these things are not always counteractive to community. A movie night with my best friend can be a great thing. The internet used to connect, meet people, and stay in contact can be a great thing. Music is beautiful and can be a common bond. None of these are inherently wrong but they can be and often times we let them.

For example, a common scene in my parents house is two or three people gathered in the same room, TV on, at least one laptop out, and hardly any talking. There is no community, no sharing, no living life with each other- it is just living life in the same room.

I know community is a beautiful and gut wrenching hard thing all at the same time. I have an apartment 800 miles from the home I am sitting in right now. In that artsy, cold, apartment I live in community with someone who could only be considered an acquaintance, at best, just 5 months ago. Sometimes I love it and sometimes I hate it because there is nowhere to hide. But it is right and it is good. We do not spend all our time sitting and talking or discussing life. We watch Planet Earth and do homework; we watch movies and read books; but, at the end of the day we live in community. We have a TV and computers; we watch DVDs and listen to lots of music; but, we don't let those things enslave us or break our community... most of the time.

What do we do? We make an effort to break the chains that bind us and keep us from building relationships. Or at least we put forth the effort and try. Trying doesn't hurt.

We exist in a society against community but we don't have to live in it.