What Is

Each day, each hour, each moment, there is a choice. I have realized that this choice is one that I frequently push aside or that I consequently choose the side opposite of where I should be. In this past semester I have dealt with an onslaught of emotions, thoughts, and ideas. There have been moments filled with truth but, more frequently, moments filled with lies. It has been a growing, painful, and try time.

Why is it that frequently there is a correlation between growing and pain?

There is a battle being waged and I play an integral part in the outcome. But, what it comes down to, what can become my greatest weapon is the simple ability to choose. In those moments when things aren't going my way, when the dreams keep me awake more than they let me sleep, when I let the fear grab hold of me, and when the lies are louder than the truth, I have a choice to make. I can choose to live in the past where the anger and pain reside, I can live in the future where the fear and anxiety hold court, or I can live in the now where forgiveness and peace is possible. For I have come to realize that I let myself live in the time gaps of what was and what could be instead of living in what is. So I choose to be present in the moment.

It is not what was. It is not what could be. It is what is, at this moment, right now.

I went to church recently, walking in frustrated and not exactly in the mood to worship. I did not allow myself to become engaged in the message until the end. It was then, when I heard it very clear... the call to freedom. It was a desire to let go of the chains that hold us captive; that hold me captive. A call to let go of my anger, frustration, bitterness, hurt, pain, and expectations. God never intended that these things would become my master but Satan did and so far he has won. It was in that moment that I saw clearly for the first time in a long time. These snares are things that I have allowed to hold onto my life and it was time to break free. I walked into church with a million thoughts on my mind and walked out with a fresh perspective.

It has been a tumultuous semester and I am sure the battle is not over. There is still more to come, more dream filled nights, more emotion filled days, more pain-filled growth, but I have a choice. I always have a choice. I have the opportunity to live in the moment, in the here and now.

Its not what was, its not what could be, but it should be what is.

Comfort?

Last night we went to a movie and I found myself smelling the sleeve of my sweatshirt a ridiculous number of times. You see, there was this one spot that just smelled really good. It made me realize how often I do things that bring me instant comfort. We are funny that way, because I think we all have those things that just help us be or cope. Sometimes it is an action you take, something to touch, somethings to smell, something to see. We all have ways of comfort.

Most nights when I fall asleep I have to be touching something soft. Not holding it, just touching it will do. Some nights it is a stuffed bear and other nights it is a fleece blanket. I don't know why, but there is something in it that brings comfort.

Thinking about that, about the desire to often comfort ourselves, self soothe, makes me realize that we can be missing out on an integral part of community. Often times I try to fix my own problems, solve issues for myself, and not need people. I like to do things by myself, rarely willing to admit when I need help. I comfort myself rather than letting others or even God be a source of comfort. It is amazing how much I am limiting God, others, and community.

Even though those weird things that I do to bring comfort to myself sometimes work, there is so much more that I am missing. I have learned, there is only so much I can do to comfort myself but there is more others can do and infinitely more that God can do. Though I am not always comfortable letting others be a source of comfort there are times when there is more comfort in that which is uncomfortable.

I need to learn to be comfortable being uncomfortable.

Writing to Take a Break from Writing

I don't have much to say, but need a break from what I have been doing. It has been a crazy week but a good one. Really, it has been a crazy few weeks. Some bullet points:

• Got sick with a stomach bug for about a week where I hardly slept
• Finally went back to work and on my second day back I got into a car accident (Im okay and it wasn't my fault)
• Got to hangout with my favorite kindergarten and first grade kids
• Spent a weekend doing nothing which was beautiful
• Spent the past week having lots of deep yet good conversation with my roommate
• Went on a 13 mile bike ride out in the country on a beautiful afternoon
• Became addicted to pomegranates and Planet Earth. Together. My roommate adds to the addictions and is a willing participant. In fact, little hoiser started watching some Planet Earth without me the other day.
• Wrote for about 4 hours straight yesterday which means I was in my pajamas until 5pm
• Slept on my couch (or rather love seat) last night for about 4.5 hours (as in that is how much I slept last night and it wasn't even in/on my bed)
• Woke up at 4:50 this morning, was in Springfield by 6, the roommate's half marathon started at 7
• Went to church after the half marathon
• Look a nap for an hour
• Went for a drive in the country at about 10pm and saw some crazy clouds
• Going home in a few weeks for the first time in a few months. Should be good. Christmas at Thanksgiving. Christmas at Christmas.

So, there it is. Now, it is a little past 2:40 am and I am still awake. I probably will be for another couple of hours. Probably not working tomorrow if they call. I don't think I would be a very effective teacher. Kids are already crazy with a sub, but a sleep deprived sub right after Halloween? Epic failure and mass chaos. 

I have been writing a lot the last few days, trying to get everything out so that I can deal with somethings that I would rather push aside. It hasn't necessarily been easy but it has been needed. I think it is coming to a close, with some of the hardest parts already penned. Currently looking at over 8,300 words that have fallen into a single word document. Some of it probably wouldn't make sense to others but that doesn't really matter as I am doing it for my own purpose. Not sure why I felt the need to write to take a break from writing. Detox maybe? Err, that doesn't make sense. 

Break over, headphones in, iTunes up, pushing on. Perhaps I will see the sunrise for the second day in a row. Maybe I will be done before then and finally be able to get some restful, long, beautiful, and hard sleep. One can hope.

Peace,

Jess

Good Still Exists

In a world that is constantly seeing the evil that is done, the way people hurt each other, and having all the bad become the headlines I think we sometimes forget the good that is still out there. As it turns out, the bad probably makes a better story but good is there, sometimes quieter and sometimes hidden, but still there. In the last several days, I have seen several examples that good prevails.

The show Extreme Makeover: Home Edition is a perfect example. People willing give  their time, labor, and materials to, often times, people they don't know. They come out in throngs to help people in a more desperate or perhaps similar situation as them.

Often times we hear, see, or ignore homeless people. However, I know someone who goes out everyone week to prepare and serve a meal for people that can't afford to feed themselves. And she does it without expecting something in return. She does it because she wants to and helping others honestly makes her happy.

I know, or know of, so many people who are dedicating their lives to looking after, raising awareness, and serving the orphans. Having personally worked at an orphange, I know what it is like to see children who have gotten the worst of life and wanting nothing more than to make their lives better. Yet for every orphan we know of, there are probably so many more that are unseen. However, these people work selflessly to make a difference, not for their own benefit but for the benefit of children who haven't been given a chance. 

Good still exists.

On a more personal level, I have a most fabulous roommate who has shown me so much good. Example: I have been sick for the last few days and she has desired to serve me. (Aside: I would much rather serve then me served. So, I am learning about being humble instead of prideful and letting people serve me.) Thursday night when I started feeling sick, she washed my dishes. Yesterday, after class, she sat in my room and just talked to me, kept me company. She has filled my water class numerous times. I caught her cleaning our apartment when she thought I wasn't watching. Last night she went to the store to get me medicine, juice, and powerade, something I wanted to do myself and she wouldn't let me. This morning one of the first things she asked is what she could get me. She has been wonderful and not just because she has helped me, but because that is who she is. She is truly a most fabulous person and an amazing example of a servant. Why?

Good still exists.

Look for it, see it, feel it, do, show it. Good is still out there and sometimes we have to be the ones to make it possible.

*Sorry for any errors in grammar and spelling, or areas that don't make sense. I am too tried to go through and edit. Back to fever induced confusion.

~Jess

It's Sour

Sometimes words seem so futile, so meaningless, so ambiguous. 

When you are watching someone suffer through the tough things that life dishes out, it is so hard to come up with words that don't sound trite and overused. I want to speak words that offer comfort and peace but feel so inadequate. So, you offer a hug and a shoulder to cry on. And sometimes, that's all you can do. 

It is sour.

The thing is, we were never promised a sweet life and sometimes, that really sucks. It would be so nice if following Jesus was a promise that life would be easy and comfortable; sweet even. Unfortunately, we were never given that promise. No where in the Bible does it say "Cast aside your trials and tribulations, for I will make your life simple and easy. When you follow me, all worries, sadness, and fear will be forgotten." 

Now, perhaps that would make Christianity seem much sweeter to some atheists. 

Alas, we were never given that promise. Instead, if anything, life would more than likely become harder once we took the plunge (or perhaps the lifeline) and gave our lives to Christ. But that's okay. Sometimes life is going to suck, for us or others, and its okay. Its okay for life to not work out and for there to be seasons of sorrow, disbelief, and anger. And sometimes life is sour and all we can say is "its okay."

That is the phrase I have found myself repeating over and over the last few days to one of my friends as she deals with a family loss. Its okay. Hopefully, she knows how much meaning I intend to convey in those two words...

your emotions are okay

your anger is okay

I have been there too

the Lord has not abandoned you

I am here for you

what you are feeling is normal

it will be okay

you are okay

its okay

Sometimes its sour, but its okay.

Remembering to Not Forget

When I was in high school, I attended a private Christian school. We had lived in that town for four years at this point, having car pooled with some friends since our arrival, since the school did not have a bussing system. It was one particular morning, rather a typical morning, when something changed. I was in the passengers seat of my mom's van, probably eating a pop-tart when our friends climbed in telling us that a plane had hit one of the Twin Towers in New York City. 

I remember thinking it wasn't possible. Those buildings were tall. How could someone, especially a pilot, fly into such a prominent building?

Two different planes had hit two different towers. I remember the highway we were driving on, talking to my mom about how absurd this was. Surely this was a mistake. Speculating on how this could happen, how maybe something was wrong with the plane, or maybe something was wrong the pilot, we continued our drive.

And then we heard there were two.

Two planes in two towers.

And panic set in.

My dad was in New York. His company was looking into putting one of their stores into the World Trade Center. He was in New York all the time that year and this one particular day was no exception. I can remember where we were on the highway when my Mom made her first phone call. I remember what she said:

"Hey, its me. I know you are okay, but I just wanted to make sure. Call me. I love you."

He didn't answer. She tried again but got the same result. Voicemail. 

We made it to school and I went to my biology class. The class was talking. Some people had heard, others hadn't. There was talk of a third plane going into the Pentagon. No one knew what was going on, so we headed down the hall to the 8th grade classroom to watch the news coverage. It was a blur of emotion and confusion, with no one really knowing what was going on. Soon we learned it was no accident. A fourth plane had been involved and it was all intentional. I don't even remember how long we stood there, watching the fuzzy images on tv, trying to make sense of the chaos.

Someone came up behind me, tapped me on the shoulder and told me my mom and older sister were crying at the bottom of the fire escape. I bolted out of the room, feeling truly afraid for the first time. I opened the door, looked down the flight of stairs and sure enough saw my mom and older sister holding each other. I don't remember how I got down those stairs, but I did.

When I reached the bottom my mom told me she had finally heard from my dad. He had been across the river at the time it happened. Sitting in his hotel room, he could see the cloud of dark smoke in the now changed skyline. 

He was okay.

It has been eight years since that day but I still think of it often. My dad, my family, we were lucky. But there were others who were not. There were others who never received the phone call from their loved one telling them they were okay. We were the lucky ones. We are the lucky ones.

So maybe we should remember, remember to not forget. In this time when our people are at war with each other and politics are a cause of conflict, there are people still hurting, parents still grieving, children still missing a parent, loved ones still longing. Freedom has come at a price. The price of love and loss. Lets remember to not forget that we lost nearly 3,000 people that day and there are brave men and women still fighting everyday to protect our freedom, to give others freedom. Maybe we can stand united, a thing that seems so hard to do right now, because someone had laid down their life for ours. Lets remember.

Lets remember to not forget.

Thoughts Drifting

To say that things have been crazy lately would definitely be an understatement. After things finally slowed down with all the traveling and weddings, I realized summer was nearly over.

And I had no idea what I was doing.

No idea what was happening with my life.

No idea where I would be living.

Six months ago I thought that I had made these big decisions, that I knew what I would be doing and where I would be going. However, I have learned that things don't work out like we want them to. Nor do they happen as we expect them to. It has been emotional and frustrating, disappointing and a time where I have questioned myself more times then I could count. In all of it, one thing has become perfectly clear:

I have no plans.

My plans have failed.

For awhile I thought that these things that I believed to be failures, this areas where my plans have not come through, to mean that I was a failure. That is truly what I thought, I believed that I was a failure and that these were defining who I was as a person. It was like my own scarlet letter mocking me daily, for others to see. However, it took a friend, a newer yet wonderful friend, to tell me that no matter what I do, that does not define me. Therefore, what I was not doing, did not define me either.  Through it, I had parents standing by me, dealing with my emotions, listening to me fight myself, trying to bring clarity to my confusion and assuring me that I was not a failure and they were not disappointed in me. 

What a sweet gift that is.

You would think that I want not need this, that I would be smart enough to differentiate between who I am and what I do (or at least I thought I was smart enough). Yet, after living in this world or near isolation, aside from my parents, since February, I needed someone to come beside me and reassure me. Because sometimes is it so easy to let your circumstances dictate who you are.

Or rather, who you think you are. 

So a new, albeit temporary, plan has been set into motion. I am going back to where I went to college. Going back to a town I dislike with people I adore.  Granted, it is not the city I love, the city I was going to with two amazing friends, but hopefully that is still something that I will be able to obtain in the near future. So maybe this wasn't in my plans, maybe it wasn't even on the map, but at least I know where I am going. Without much cohesion, this is where my mind goes, back to the unknown. 

And it scares the crap out of me.

I feel like I have lived in a false sense of reality. For some reason I believed that life would be loads easier then this. Instead, I have learned, once again, that life is not fair and thats the way it is. i can't change it, but I also cannot compare myself to others.  So this is where I stand.

At the crossroads without a map.

But hopefully soon I will know. Until then I will remember that what I do does not define me, that my life cannot be compared to others successes, that things don't always come together in my timing but they do come together. 

So, I will wait