Writing is the art form of my soul, and words are its paintbrush. For me, writing is both a way to reach other people and a way to reach myself. A tool to think critically about the world around me and my place within it. To question, process, discover, and dream. Writing allows my soul to breathe. To express itself. To have a voice. Writing allows me to know both who I am and the discrepancy between that person and the one I hope to be. I write, because I have to. I write...as a way of life.
I was able to experience all of that today. At the Woo. I felt a sense of belonging. Was reminded of my Father's incredible and infinite forgiveness and love for me. I experienced community. Sung songs of praise. Clapped my hands and danced with joy. Swayed back and forth in His presence. My soul found its rest. As if I was home.
And I almost missed out on all of that. Because I was too tired...too hungover for church.
With my head pounding and my body aching after a night of celebrating St. Patty's Day, I laid on the floor in front of the tv thinking...
Hell no! There's no way I can walk to church today. No way I can focus on a sermon. Stand long enough to worship. I look like shit. They're all gonna know I partied too hard last night. I'm too embarrassed. Too tired. Too hungover for church.
And then I felt this odd need to just get up and go. I did NOT want to...but I got up. Got dressed. Brushed my teeth. And I went.
And you know what?
No one judged me. No one knew. If they did, they didn't say anything about it. They didn't call me out. As always, the Woo welcomed me with open arms and warm smiles.
And listening to the sermon, I felt God fill me with rest. It wasn't exhausting. It wasn't difficult. It was easy and it was tranquil.
And worship was great. I needed it. The reminder of His love and forgiveness. The feeling of being vulnerable and opening up my heart TO forgiveness. Letting myself accept grace from God. And then turning and offering it back to myself, from myself. Instead of critiquing myself constantly. Criticizing myself over and over again. Focusing on my faults. And not letting it go.
And so this Sunday I learned a valuable lesson. And it had nothing to do with the fact that I should not have drank as much as I did on St. Patrick's Day. No...instead I learned that...
You can never bee too hungover for church. At least not at the Woo. And not in front of a God of love, grace, and forgiveness. It's just not possible.
These early morning walks to church for WooHOP have been incredible. The weather is so different at seven or eight in the morning than it ends up being later on in the day. On Tuesday, I got to walk to the Woo in the pouring rain. And after leaving, it was only slightly misty. Later on that day became one of the sunniest and warmest days we've had in a long time. Then the next day there was this huge, incredible, gray fog. It was so thick, you could barely see anything in front of you. So deep and mysterious. Yet upon leaving church, the fog was gone. And that afternoon, I ended up wearing a tank top and taking a nap on a blanket in the warm sunshine.
Lately I have been struggling to find time to rest. To find peace int he chaos. Time for God in the business. I've been frustrated that I haven't had time to write. Something I've always loved, but only recently realized is one of my true passions. That I want to intentionally invest in. I've been angry that all I have time for lately is doing. Going places. Attending classes and meetings. Running home for a quick meal and to trade my books in between.
My life has been full of DOING.
And I keep asking...why?
Craving...time. Rest. Peace. Freedom.
And yesterday, as I walked down Main Street on my way back from the Woo, God showed up.
As I stared at the beautiful diverse community around me. Noticed the sun trying desperately to peak through the clouds. Felt the cool wind rush accross my cold cheeks. Enjoyed the steady rythm of my boots pressing into the brick beneath my feet.
I heard God whisper...
"A walk is enough.
And each day,
I've been blessing you with two."
Wow. Hello! Wake up, Jessie! Its time to be called out on your shit. God has been BLESSING you with two beautiful opportunities to experience His peace and feel His presence. Every morning this week as you walk down Main.
But you've been so focused on all the doing, all the peace that's missing...that you haven't even noticed. You've been begging God to show up and provide you with peace and rest and joy in the midst of chaos...
And He IS.
He answered your call, your prayer. And you've been too caught up in how badly you needed it, that you didn't even notice Him respond with a beautiful answer. You couldn't receive His blessing.
As I walked down Main, I had this enlightening conversation with myself. And I wondered...how often do we do this? Get so caught up in what we're praying for, what we need...that we don't even notice when God faithfully comes through and gives it to us?
How many of us are still praying for peace and stillness, when God has already given that to us in a walk down Main St. In not one...but two walks down Main St. Every day.
I've been so caught up in asking, that I've been incapable of receiving. Blind to seeing your answer right before my eyes.
Help us to see You wherever and however You choose to show up. Help us focus less on how desperate and needy we are for You to act. And more on how You're answering our prayers. Help us have the eyes to see You move. The ears to hear you whisper ever so faintly with an answer. Continue to call us out when we don't. Wake us up to all that You're faithfully doing around us. So that we may never miss Your beautiful answers to our desperate prayers...in whatever perfect yet hard to notice form in which you deliver them to us.
Letting it fall down and soak you from head to toe. Without any umbrella for protection. Allowing it to just come down, turn your clothes a darker shade, dampen your socks and ruin your hair.
Sure, its annoying. Frustrating. Interferes with your plans. Makes you late. Screws up any hope of getting anywhere looking presentable.
But I LOVE the rain. I always have.
Not just misty days or slow falling sprinkles. No. I love downpours. All consuming, heavy falling, good luck having any part of you left dry...rain.
Rain like that has a transformative quality to it. Sure, if we let it, it can transform our positive attitudes and ruin our day. But that's not the kind of transformative I'm talking about.
Downpours like that consume you if you let them. They are powerful and heavy. Big and unavoidable. Everywhere around you. Inescapable. And when you're in the middle of one, it's hard not to be overtaken by its majesty.
Yes, I just called rain storms majestic.
They are. For me at least...
They take you to another place. Strip you of all that's unnecessary. Bring you back to an earlier state of purity. Remove unimportant thoughts of worry or stress.
When I'm walking in the rain, I don't want to escape it. Cover myself to stay dry. Avoid getting wet. No...I want to experience it. Feel it. Soak it all up, literally.
As the rain pours down, I feel...
Clean
Natural
Pure
New
Refreshed
Awake
Alive
Rain is invigorating. It wakes you up. Makes you aware. Livens your spirit. Suddenly, you see the world around you. You notice nature, because you can feel it. It becomes a part of you. Because you absorb it.
Rain is also a constant reminder of grace. It's the image we always use when we ask God to pour out His grace and forgiveness on us.
Rain cleanses us. Strips us of our impurities. And makes us new. I always feel like I can start over after a rain storm. Like there's another chance when the sun first peaks through the clouds after the rain finally stops.
I think there's a very real reason God created rain. Not just for plants and nature. But for us, too. So that we might have a tangible recurring idea of what it means to feel God's presence. To become clean. To be forgiven. To experience God's grace. To discover newness. To come back to life.
These concepts are often so tough to grasp. Rain, though, let's us feel it and know it and live it. So that we can recognize, appreciate, and take full advantage of these blessings when they come.
So, I will continue to love the rain. To venture out in it. Let it pour down on me. Without trying to escape it or protect myself from it. To experience it fully every time it comes. And thank God for sending it with huge purpose in mind.
How you whisper ever so gently
Nudge us in a new direction
Point us back toward you
Realign our hearts and minds
Remind us that You are the center
All in the quiet
It's not that Your presence only lingers there. Heavens no, Your presence lingers everywhere and more.
But we...us small, sinful, forgetful, mere human beings...We can't hear you. So often, we can't see you. Easily distracted does not even begin to describe it. As humans, we are inevitably
flawed
busy
caught up
rushing
always moving
ever forgetful
constantly distracted
stuck in monotony
trapped in chaos
obsessed with doing
Instead of content with simply being. Resting in your presence. Waiting on You. Eyes open to see. Ears ready to hear. Heart eager to receive.
No
We are too distracted by the cares of this world. To notice You. Your presence. Your gorgeous sunset. Your whisper in the wind.
The way You wrap Your arms around us and pull us in close. Parent us with love and concern. Lead us with guidance as our Shepard. Carry us with Your strength. Resurrect us with Your unique quality to save. Redeem. Bring what was once dead back to life.
Many of us do not believe in Your miracles. Yet, they are everywhere. We are simply too busy to notice them.
We often say we can't here You. We don't know what You want us to do. Which path You created us to take. Where You are in all of this. Why You left us.
But how wrong we are. How quick we are to doubt You. You, in all Your power. Why do we constantly doubt you? For You are always there. Often as faint as a whisper. Or as easily missable as a rush of wind in our hair.
But in the quiet...
Yes, in the quiet...
We become able to see and hear.
When we let go of the world and its hectic dysfunction, even for just a moment, we are able to notice, grasp on to and fully experience You.
We once had the privilege of living every moment in such a peaceful place. An environment conducive to feeling Your presence and hearing Your voice.
Eden
I can only imagine how serene, fulfilling and perfect life must have been there. How close to You Adam and Eve must have felt, in each and every moment.
But then, sin entered the picture. And because we didn't have the strength to ignore Satan then, there in the garden, we now have to work that much harder to ignore him here in this world. And he is everywhere. Especially in the business and chaos of obligations and responsibilities. I am convinced that he lurks in those corners of our lives more than anywhere else. To distract us and pull us away from You.
But we must work harder. And find the quiet. So that we may once again, find You. Hear You whisper. Feel You comfort us. See Your miracles. And turn toward You with immovable faith. And once again, make You the center.
We must find the quiet,
and we must harness that quiet.
So that we may listen, hear, see, feel and BELIEVE.
Today, in the quiet, I finally heard Your whisper. Your beautiful whisper spoke directly to me and addressed me by name. And I, I heard it.
And tonight, I pray that You give me the dedication and the wisdom to find the quiet and hear Your voice, when I am surrounded by noise.
'Cause I don't belong to anyone, and no one belongs to me
And just as he concludes in this song, Perfectly Lonely...
That's the way that I want it.
There is something so peaceful about being alone. No, not the feeling of loneliness, but being alone. It is as John Mayer calls it "perfectly lonely." Because it's a state in which one finds comfort. Rest. Happiness. Contentment
All in the solitude of being alone.
Of being...perfectly lonely.
If you allow yourself to let go of your insecurities long enough. To think beyond loneliness. To see the beauty in solitude. In quiet. To be content without anyone else around. To talk to or lean on.
You will be...perfectly lonely.
You will become your own best friend. Biggest fan. Favorite company. And strongest advocate.
You will discover your soul's deepest desires. Your inner thoughts. Your heart's truest longings.
And more importantly, you will come to love yourself, accept yourself and validate yourself...just as you are.
But you first have to let go of those fears of being alone. The insecurities of being judged or rejected. That step is crucial to reach a state of being perfectly lonely. I am utterly convinced.
This is all on my mind tonight, because I had the most perfectly lonely evening.
It all started with noticing that my favorite wine store, WineNation, was having a class and tasting called "Intro to Italy." I am traveling to Italy this summer with my Dad. The trip will be a quick 10 day tour of Italy, stopping through Rome, Tuscany, Florence and Venice, and taking the train between all of them. Being a huge wine drinker (yes, I am only 21, but I grew up in a wine family...who drank wine every evening with dinner), drinking all of the local Italian wines was one of the parts of this trip that I have been looking forward to the most. So, when I saw this class, I thought that it would be such a great way to learn a little bit about the wines that I'll be drinking. And that it would allow me to enter Italy with a little more knowledge on the regional wines.
Well, it is Spring Break here. And that means everyone is home or out on their wild adventures. Which left me with no one to go to this class with. A two hour class and tasting, which I knew would be filled with couples and groups of women going out for the night.
But, I really wanted to go. I knew it might be awkward. That I might stick out as the only person in the room who came alone. I didn't care. I was way too excited about the opportunity to learn about Italian wines. And so, I decided to go.
I pushed my insecurities aside, and I bought my ticket.
And I decided to treat myself to dinner out at Panera beforehand. Yes, I took myself out on a date tonight. A date...to Panera and to a wine tasting. With only myself.
And I can tell you with certainty that it was the greatest date I've ever been on.
While eating my favorite Panera combo of half salad and half Mac & Cheese, I lost myself in a book I recently bought: The Story of Assisi, part of Lina Duff Gordon's Mediaeval Towns series. One of maybe 15 or so in the series, this book was published in 1900 in an attempt to tell the beautiful story of this incredible city.
It has a blue cover with gold writing and embellishments on the binding. The pages are brown, creased and uneven along the edges. The side binding has beautiful gold depictions, as does the cover.
It is the oldest, most fragile book I have ever owned. I discovered it at Commonwealth, a used bookstore in Boston, earlier this week. I spotted one on the shelf and was immediately in awe of its beautiful cover and fragile state. Upon seeing it was the Story of Milan, and then discovering that it was part of a larger series, I began to search for more Italian cities in the series. And I found this one: Assisi. The town that gave birth and fame to St. Francis. I was immediately drawn to it. I knew I had to purchase it. I've always wanted to learn more about this man who was such a pure and true man of faith.
And so I bought the book.
And tonight, alone in a booth at Panera, I dove right in.
I was hooked. Captivated by the wars and struggles. Mesmerized by the history of the city. And the life of the man who made it known.
And as I read at Panera, I felt myself enter a state of utter contentment. I felt more at peace, more happy about spending time with myself than I have in a very long time.
You know how people say the best way to invest in a relationship is to spend quality time with that person? That that is truly the best way to show someone that you really love them?
Well, I am thoroughly convinced after tonight that that is utterly true. But more importantly, that its truth transcends relationships with others to speak also about our relationship with the self.
Yes, I think we need to spend quality time in ourselves. With ourselves. To invest in ourselves. And show ourselves that we love ourselves. To validate ourselves. Build our confidence. Remind us of how worthy of love we are. And to just be in tune and in touch with ourselves.
If we don't have a healthy relationship with ourselves, how can we with others? And these things are critical in establishing a healthy relationship.
As I emmersed myself in the enthralling story of Assisi, I felt those things.
Sitting in a booth at Panera, all by myself...
Sitting at the corner of a table at a wine tasting, all by myself..
I invested in myself.
As people chatted away with their friends and romantic partners, I soaked in the experience. Listened deeply to the teacher. Focused in on the wines. Enjoyed them. Focused in on myself. And enjoyed myself.
Yes, I was...perfectly lonely.
And I could not ask for more.
For those of you who have a tough time with being content alone. Who easily sink into loneliness. I want to share with you a quote from the teacher of the wine class this evening that really resonated with me more than anything else I heard. More than the deep red wines or the sweet whites. More than the informative overview of grape varieties or the lesson on how to read an Italian wine label...
"The harder the vines work, the better the wine they produce. Just like in life. The more hardships we encounter, the more character we build.So the grapes that grow in harsher weather conditions in the colder mountains of Northern Italy, produce better, higher quality wines."
I love this metaphor. It speaks to the human experience and to the value of hardship. The intense character building process of facing loneliness. Overcoming inadequacies. Leaving behind insecurities.
Soak in the hardship, folks. Face the loneliness, if that's what gets you down. Or whatever other area of life in which you encounter your insecurities. Fight them.
Spend quality time with yourselves. Alone. In the quiet and in the noise. In the privacy of your own home and in crowded public places.
And you will come to know yourself better. Love yourself more. Find peace and contentment in being alone.
Give it a try. Give it time. And you will learn what it's like to be...
PERFECTLY
LONELY
Something that I am convinced is a life-long lesson. And one that allows us to produce better wine in the long run.
Before reading this blog, I wholeheartedly ask you to please take less than half an hour to watch the Kony 2012 video. It explains the numbers, the history of the conflict, and the movement in ways that I cannot, and that I will not attempt. It provides a visual representation of why you should and how you can get involved. My words will not be enough to convince you of the importance of this movement. So please, watch this video.
Two days ago, Invisible Children posted a video called Kony 2012 on the internet. It has since gone viral. For two days, people have been posting, sharing and tweeting. They have been blogging. Talking. Thinking. Students. Youth. Adults. Celebrities. Politicians. Everyone from Jay Z to Sara Bareilles. Hollywood and Capitol Hill. But more importantly...ordinary citizens. People who knew about Invisible Children or the war, but didn't know the whole story. Those who have spent up to 12 years advocating. And those who had never heard Kony's name.
StopKONY and KONY2012 have been trending globally on twitter. People everywhere are larning what's really happening to the children of Central Africa. Their stories are being told. Joseph Kony, the man who has devestated the lives of thousands, destroyed communities entirely, who single handedly holds the power that is allowing the LRA to continues mass slaughter...his name has become known. Along with the mass atrocities he is responsible for.
Today, thousands more people know than did two days ago.
Because of one YouTube video. One campaign by one organization. But more importantly, because of the thousands of individuals who are sharing the video, spreading the word, and joining the movement.
I am amazed. Everytime I scroll through the news feed on my facebook or twitter, I am in aw of the number of people who are talking about this issue. Justice seems reachable. Peace seems possible. Because complacency and ignorance will soon no longer be an option for society.
This obviously speaks hugely about the power of social media in our time. But that's not what I want to talk to you about.
I want to talk to you about YOUR POWER.
The power of VOICE.
And why you need to use yours to help bring awareness and action. So that we can finally bring peace to Central Africa.
And for those of you who have been critical of the movement, I especially want to talk to you. To address some of the criticism and provide you with a slightly different look at this issue. Some perspective that I think is lacking from simply watching the Kony2012 video. And so I hope you will continue to read and keep an open mind.
I speak to all of you not as an expert on the history of the region or the conflict. I will be the first to acknowledge that while my heart and soul are deeply embedded in this issue, there is much more I should know. Much more research I need to do.
I do, however, speak to you as someone who has met child survivors of this war. Former child soldiers and sex slaves of Joseph Kony and his army. Children who were forced to do unimaginable things at Kony's command.
I have held their hands. Heard their stories. Seen their physical and emotional scars up close.
They told me about what he did to them. What Kony did to them. How they were forced to kill. Innocent civilians. Their own brothers and sisters. Mothers and fathers. Their best friends who got caught trying to escape. How they were forced to chop off body parts. Burn down homes and entire villages. How they became lifeless out there in the bush. They were orphaned. Abducted. Trained to kill. Raped Forced to take drugs.
Kony stole their childhood. Their family. Their education. Their innocence. Their agency. Their lives.
I watched these children tell their stories. With words and with pictures. Vivid drawings. No child should be able to draw such a perfect representation of an AK47. Such horrific scenes of slaughter and war. But...they drew them. They dreamed them. They remembered them. Because they lived it.
And these children...well, they were the lucky ones sadly. Because they escaped. They were rescued. They survived. While so many others did not...
I watched them cry. And hold each other in their pain.
But I also watched them smile and laugh. As they shared with me...their hopes and dreams. As they drew beautiful, radiant, colorful pictures of peace. Of life after war. Of safety. Of refuge. Their dreams are for this war to end. Yes, they are now safe. They survived and Kony's army has moved to other countries.
But these children don't want other children to experience the hell that they were forced to live through. They dream of peace in the entire region. They want to save other children from experiencing suffering.
These children are back in school. They receive counseling and rehabilitation services. They dream of one day becoming doctors, lawyers, teachers, and social workers. They are now safe. They have enough food and they have shelter. They have each other for support.
But these 154 children who were living at Village of Hope Uganda when I visited...are the lucky ones. There are thousands of others who are living in displacement camps. And even more who are still trapped in the army. Forced to kill every day this war continues. Experiencing more and more psychological trauma and emotional pain every day this war continues. Losing more of their childhood innocence every day this war continues. In danger of dying every day this war continues.
These children I visited last summer wrote letters to President Obama. Begging him for his help. Pleading for his assistance. Sharing their personal stories, and asking him with all of his power, to do something. To send troops. To kill Joseph Kony like they knew he killed Osama Bin Laden. Yes, they knew that Obama sent troops to hunt down and kill Osama Bin Laden. And they asked him to find, capture, and kill Joseph Kony, too. To end this war.
Those letters were delivered to President Obama.
And later that year, Obama responded to the call.
He sent 100 advisors...not combat troops...but military advisors to assist the Ugandan army in finding Joseph Kony. So that the #1 wanted criminal by the International Criminal Court could be found and finally brought to justice.
And in November, our team went back to visit those children and more. And they wrote more letters to the President. Thanking him for sending troops and begging him to send more.
I am not writing this to advocate for anyone other than these children. The children who have been strong and resilient enough to survive. The children who were killed or died of exhaustion. And the many children who to this day are stuck in Kony's army. I write this to advocate for...
Children.
Children.
Children.
Young. Innocent. Beautiful. Children.
For 26 years the world has ignored this war. The world ahs been turning its back to these children. Thousands and thousands of children. Who do NOT want to kill their friends, family and neighbors. Who do NOT want to be the so called "wives" of rebel leaders. Who do NOT want to fight. Who do NOT want to be tired and weary.
Who instead...want peace. Who want to be heard.
If this happened for one day in America, the world would be outraged. But because it is happening in Central Africa, we are not. Because the US has no political or financial interest there.
This happened to these children simply because they were born there. That is all.
What if it was you?
What if it was your child?
And no one heard them crying out for rescue. And no one cared. And no one did anything to stop it.
You would be OUTRAGED. You would fight until your death to save them. You would tell everyone you knew. You would make it your life's mission to bring them home safely.
But it is not your child.
Does that mean that you can look away? Does that give you the right to say you are too busy to advocate? Too uninterested to take action?
No.
Where you live should NOT determine whether you live.
You should be just as outraged as if it were happening to your own child in your own backyard.
I understand that many people are frustrated about the desire to send troops. That many people think militarization is not the answer. That many people say why do we need to fight more to bring about peace. That we should not impose our military on another society who may not want our help. I get those arguments.
But so far we have only sent advisers. To help the Ugandan military who is already hunting down Joseph Kony. Right now thousands and thousands of people are dying. Who are we to say that they can continue to die because we don't want to send troops to commit more violence? Who are we to send troops to Iraq and Afghanistan, but not to Central Africa? Who are we to allow Joseph Kony to terrorize an entire region?
We have sat back and watched genocide after genocide happen in this world. We have sworn "never again." Yet, we are still complacent. What if no one fought against Hitler during World War II? While he slaughtered millions of Jews and others. What if people simply said, we shouldn't use military force to bring him down? Do we not remember Rwanda? When we were too timid to call it a genocide? When we did not want to intervene, because we were too selfishly concerned with our own agenda?
People can criticize Invisible Children for the amount of money they
spend on activism or for their flawed techniques all they want. You
don't have to love their style or their way of bringing this to the public eye.
But this is what it took to tell the world. 12 years. Facebook and Twitter. Donations and expensive filming equipment. T-shirts and posters. Trips to Africa to learn more and trips across the country to share more. Speaking events and film screenings. Dialogues and benefit concerts.
And now...people know. They know both who Joseph Kony is and what he has done.
And if that's not enough for you...if that video doesn't make you care and want to act, let me leave you with this:
I have met children in Northern Uganda who survvied being a soldier in Kony's army. I ahve heard their unimaginable stories. I have held their hands and watched them cry, laugh, sing and dance. And let me tell you...straight from the mouths of survivors of the LRA...
They want peace.
They asked for our help.
They begged Obama to help end this war.
These children have suffered immensely. They have survived. And they have spoken.
Hear them, world.
See them, world.
Do something to help them, world.
None of us are too far removed from this to act. none of us can escape responsibility as long as this continues. It is happening.
Are we listening?
Are we seeing?
Are we acting?
If we don't, who will?
These children are anything but invisible to me. Though I have only met a very small amount compared to the thousands who have been affected, I know their names and their stories. I think about them every day.
And I am asking you to make the conscious choice to... See them. Hear them. And use your powerful voice to advocate for them.
You are critical in this movement. Your voice is integral in getting the world to stop watching silently and start acting. To finally...
