The Thing About Me and November

So the thing about November is that I hate it.  It is a black hole of a month that is wedged between two excellent months.  Most Novembers my normally happy heart takes a leave of absence and allows itself to be depressed.  This year November level feelings came months early, so this girl is super ready for Christmas magic.

The thing about me is my Mom died in November.  Specifically, she died on November 20, 2000, three days before Thanksgiving and three days before she should have turned 30. 

And now you know what she looked like. 

When a Mother of five dies before she turns 30, and when that Mother is your Mother, you learn really quickly that this life is no joke.  It changes pretty much everything and turns you into a weird kid who knows too much.  

Weird kid is growing up.  Next month I turn 25.  Yikes.  You do the math… when you know people can die before 30, or even sooner, 25 seems old.  (Maybe now you understand my habitual sense of urgency about absolutely everything). 

This must have been from right before she got sick. 

This whole thing could have made me all kinds of crazy, which is why I still take a month every year to process it and every other ugly thing that happened because of it.  Honestly, it has made me oddly sane and focused.

For your reading pleasure, here are the disjointed pearls of November-inspired wisdom that guide this old lady's life and help keep me grounded:

Life is too short to pretend like great things are just good things.  This world can be a bad enough place without you cheating yourself.  I both listed this first and bolded it, because I think this is extra important.    

If you are lucky enough to have a clear picture of what you want most, life is too short to not chase it.  And not just kind of chase it… chase it like a crazy person.  Regardless of the outcome, you won’t regret it. The alternative though?  You’ll regret that.  Trust me.  

No matter what myriad of hardships you have been thrown or what kind of career or income you have, if you have people in your life who love you (like Jesus does) your life will feel full and well-lived.  Sometimes you have to make choices.  Pick love.  My Mom did. 

Ashley and Mom

Sarah and Mom 

Rachel and Mom...
I would guess Mom is about my age in this photo

Bekah and Mom

Life is too short to make foolish, self-harming choices on purpose. This is probably especially true if life has not been kind to you, because you know better. #YOLOisano-no

DO NOT SMOKE.  It very literally and seriously can kill you. 

The saying “God does not give you more than you can handle” is not really biblical or true.  (Honestly, the phrase makes me cringe).  He gives us more than we can handle all the time.  (That’s why he gave us Jesus). Being able to admit your overwhelmed heart can’t handle it all is so unexpectedly beautiful.  Admitting this saved me from my quest to be perfect and completely self-sufficient, which contributed to being miserable and lonely for much of my childhood.  Surrender. Let it go.

You can’t be depressed forever.  God is too good for that nonsense. 

Even in your November, there is always always always something to be thankful for.  Even if it is what you don’t have anymore. 

I will leave  you with what I remember being my Mom's favorite song... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQ8D5Ihe4hg

Adventure is out there

I have learned that you can only handle working so many 70 hour weeks in a row before you find yourself flying across the country and running around yelling "paid time off! paid time off!" in a city you've never been to (if you think I didn't really do this, jokes on you). 

In the last month and some change, I have traveled to: Indianapolis, Chicago, Nashville, Atlanta, Cleveland, Bowling Green, St. Louis, and Portland (Oregon, not Maine), not to mention Cincinnati/ Northern Kentucky and Louisville too many times to count.

Portland was the best because it wasn't for work, I didn't have to drive there and I also did not have to chaperone a charter bus full of college students.  It was also the best because there is a Tom there, and an Emilie there, and they are stand-up people.

Exhibit A: Macarons were waiting for me at the airport.  MACARONS THE SIZE OF MY FACE (or, more accurately, my hand). 

 

Supply me with macarons, get mentioned in my blog.

To reiterate: supply me with macarons, get mentioned in my blog.

 



Other things to note about Portland: No sales tax.  Illegal to pump your own gas.  Flights of anything you can imagine... wine, beer, icecream.  A gal's dreams come true.  Have you bought your ticket yet?

 

 

Tom, too, likes flights.

 

 As little as I complain about my work schedule (hahahaha), I really don't like working so much.  I like sleeping and eating grilled cheese and wearing hot pink (really more like magenta) dresses and meandering through gigantic book stores and eating Thai street food with friends and watching Chopped and reading "Love Does" by Bob Goff and lunching on rooftops.  I did all of those things on vaca, and they were pretty stinking great.  Note that food gets a lot of honorable mentions.

 

I bought this copy of "Abolition of Man" at Powell's

for twice what the book originally sold for,

because I liked the cute inscription.

 

There's nothing like a good vacation, being sick after said vacation, and feeling the glee of chanting "Paid time off!" to remind you that we were not made to work 70 hours a week.  You weren't, I wasn't, let's not. :)

 

ONLY 42 DAYS UNTIL THE NEXT VACATION: DISNEY.

He's Just Not That Into You (Or Me)

I must divulge that when I am overwhelmed with the world and need some alone time, I sit on my couch in big baggy sweatpants and watch one of the few romantic comedies (ok, chick flicks) that I own (or a show about cooking, but that is not relevant to this blog post).  To be specific, here is what I watch over and over again: "Breakfast at Tiffany's," "He's Just Not That Into You,"and "Definitely, Maybe." What can I say, I live a charmed, exciting life.

Every time I watch "He's Just Not That Into You," after I get over deciding which character I most identify with at the time (which is, of course, the lovely, level-headed and sassy character played by Jennifer Aniston), I think of my own list of reasons why he isn't calling.  The movie comes up with several funny and commonly used explanations of why guys do not call girls back... but my list is funnier, and more importantly, completely TRUE.  Everything on the internet is true, right?

Cheers to solidarity, Jen! 

Here is why he isn't calling you (or me):

Reason 1: You heard it here first, folks, he's dating Emma Watson now.  I was as shocked as you when I found out, but it's so true.  If it was going to be anybody else though, aren't we glad it's Emma?

Reason 2:  He watched Breaking Bad, and was a little too influenced by it.  He's making meth now.  Meth.  He knows you would fulfill your obligations as a responsible US citizen and report him, and therefore he's protecting the both of you by not calling.

Reason 3: He saw something on Reddit that reminded him of the year when John Wall and our perfect team did not win the National Championship for UK.  As a result, he threw his phone into a puddle formed by a recent Lexington monsoon.  I've lost two phones that way.

Reason 4:  He has recently become a big fan of the beloved show How I Met Your Mother.  Unfortunately, he just watched the last episode of season one, and is coping with the Lilly-Marshall breakup.  Unlike us, he could not persevere in watching, and will never know that they end up happily ever after.  If I had stopped watching HIMYM at this point, I would have given up on love, too.  If those fictional characters can't make it, what real people can?

Reason 5: He, too, watched "He's Just Not That Into You" and is still mulling over which character he most identifies with.  That soul search has made him abandon all tech devices.  Jury's out.  We all have to hope it's not Bradley Cooper though.  Yuck.

Reason 6:  He started playing video games again.  Enough said.  If it makes you feel better, he doesn't even know what month it is.

Reason 7:  You work too much.  He thought you wouldn't notice.  Whoopsies.

Reason 8:  He's one of the contestants on the newest season of Master Chef.  Yes, you did not realize that he could cook.  However, Cutter made it to the final 4 on the last season, so anything can happen.   He's probably learning to make macarons as you read this.   This is my favorite reason.

He made these...

My Little (Big) Miracle Family

Growing up as the oldest of five siblings (with two other half-siblings), I guess I just didn't feel like my family was big enough because two years ago I decided to double it.  I met Anique, Alice, Divine, Erick, Boaz, Jastine, and Elene while I was volunteering with my church, and I thank God for each and every one of them and what they continue to add to my life.

Missing Erick in this picture, with a random friend of theirs. 

They are refugees from Congo/ Tanzinia and came to the U.S. about 7ish years ago.  They survived a war, their parents are going through the process of a divorce, and they have to deal with the chaos that comes along with having a huge family.  But I have never met more joyful, thankful, hilarious, loveable kids.

Anique, the oldest, is a sophomore at Bluegrass Community and Technical College and works 5-10pm every day after school and on weekends to help her single Mom take care of bills.  She constantly sacrificially serves her family, laughs at the anxiety that she causes me, and is the first to give God credit for the amazing things he does in her life.  When it comes to financing school, miracles continue to happen to Anique and I am beyond thankful for this.

Alice is just such a teenager.  She takes selfies 24/7 (only a slight exaggeration), is always blaring African praise music from her phone, and says the funniest things (i.e., "there are lots of fish in the lake" meaning "there are plenty of fish in the sea") when trying to explain American culture to her family.

Happy visitors at Berea College, where Anique and 

Alice are considering attending next fall! 

Divine always seems to be stuck in the Mom role and is the classic middle-ish child.  She is a wonderful artist, and kind of has that aloof, middle child, artist personality.  She always makes extra efforts to clean up around the house, and can shoot a look to her siblings to make them behave.  I need to learn that look for my siblings. :)

Erick just wants to be a little man, and forgets to do his homework.  Math's the worst, so I would probably "forget," too.  He always loses his shoes, and eats the most (I never had brothers, so I did not realize how much young boys can eat!), and is learning to wear deodorant.  He is also always polite, which is a big deal for middle school boys.

Anique, Alice and Erick got baptized a few months ago... 

it was an all day event, and was super exciting to get to experience. 

Boaz always falls asleep in my car, and says my food is yummy, and comes up with the craziest stories about his future.  He just might be the billionaire astronaut that he aspires to be, folks.  He has told me that his wife with have the hugest engagement ring ever, so if you will be in the market in 15 years...

We got last minute Halloween costumes at Dollar Tree 

last year.. 4 costumes for like $14. Win. 

A few weeks ago Jastine and Boaz asked me about my boyfriend, which led to an awkward conversation about how sometimes boyfriends and girlfriends breakup.  Boaz asked me if I sit on the couch, eat icecream, watch sad movies, and cry (I told him I actually really do that), and he teased me quite a bit about it.  Anique told me a couple of days ago that when I dropped them off that day, Jastine asked her if they could pray for me together because he was worried about me.  And now I have to cry just thinking about how sweet that is.  Kids understand empathy better than we give them credit for sometimes.

They always fall asleep, and so quickly! 

Elene is just pretending though. 

Elene is still little enough to sit on your lap, and play with your hair, and tell you that she wants you to live with her.  My favorite sweet Elene stories include: (a) the time when she took off the bracelet that she was wearing and said that she wanted me to have it, (b) every time I bring over dinner and/or icecream, she invites all of the neighbor kids over to join (which always worries me, but there is always enough icecream somehow), and (c) she is always the first volunteer to help cook.

They became fast friends! 

I love them for making me feel appreciated, for eating my food and pretending to like it even when it's gross, for how much they love and respect their sweet mother, for falling asleep in my car, for being ambitious, and for being mine.  

A couple of months ago, at church, the pastor used a quote (that I can't find online, no matter how hard I have tried), but the paraphrase is... you are never going to see miracles unless you place yourself in the context in which miracles happen (or something really great and pertinent like that).   Until I met this family, I didn't believe in miracles in the same way.  I saw miracles as big, super identifiable, life-changing things.  Through their eyes, though, I am starting to see the miracles in serendipity.  Good, subtle things happen, and they know that they happen for a reason (by the way, God is the reason).  

My cute family always has something that they can use help with (like getting Erick to do his homework), so if you want to see some miracles happen, I suggest you get to know them and add them into your prayer repertoire.  Big things are happening people, and I'm so glad I just get to watch. 

Thank you, Clive Staples Lewis

It all started when my fourth grade teacher, Ms. Osterman, gave our class copies of "the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" for Christmas (but I'm not actually certain if I read it then or not).  In the last two or three months though, I did read all seven of the Chronicles of Narnia books, and I don't want to sound really dramatic (though I often am), but it changed me.  Each book provided food for thought regarding some of the big issues going on in my life right now, and helped me think about the way I relate both myself and Jesus to other people.  They were every ounce what I needed.

If I could share anything in the world with you, it wouldn't be my silly 24 year old insight.  No, like Ms. Osterman, it would be the wonderful children's books by C.S. Lewis.  But really... I have actually bought several copies of each book for this purpose, and would love to share!

What these books manage to do is explain Christian theology in such a way that doesn't push people away, shows Jesus's heart, and makes you forget for a second about all of the negative things that Christians, the church, and society as a whole have attached to religion.  What he did with these books is really just beautiful.  To spell it out: I would strongly encourage you to read them, regardless of what your belief system or current stage of life may be.

Initially, one book ("the Horse and His Boy") stood out as my least favorite, but in retrospect it was the one that I need to mull over the most.  I could talk about these books for every blog post between here and Christmas, but for today, I'll just focus on this one book and what it confronted me with.

 I had a 6 hour bus ride to Cleveland for work today, 

so decided to take a break from reading about domestic violence 

to reread "the Horse and His Boy" from my giant anthology.

As you may imagine, I finished the whole thing.

The book is centered around a boy (Shasta), a girl (Aravis), and two horses (Bree and Hwin). Aslan, the lion, is the main character in the books, and represents Jesus in a really great way.

To over-summarize, so as not to give too much away (because I trust you will read or reread it): They go on a journey, they get separated for a bit, and it is all very stressful.

During all of this, the kids each encounter Aslan on their own.  Both children ask Aslan about what he was doing for a third party, and he tells both children that it's not for them to know.

              

[Shasta]  “Then it was you who wounded Aravis?" 

[Aslan] "It was I."

              [Shasta] "But what for?" 

              [Aslan] "Child," said the Voice, "I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but 
             his   own.”

Wow.  How very much like God, and how very much like me. 

On my laundry list of quarter-life crisis struggles, wondering why God seems to be giving me and others answers that are in conflict, and just wondering why he is putting so-and-so through such-and- such (I am as good at oversimplifying my life as I am the Chronicles books) is just taking up too much of my time, prayer, and worries.  

Thank goodness for Lewis's Lion, who said it so simply and perfectly.  God reveals his plans for our lives in his own time, and that is all we can ask for and all we really need.  It's a bittersweet pill to swallow (and thus I had to read the book again today). 

In closing, here is another great quote from the book that I found some comfort in:

"I have now lived a hundred and nine winters in this world and have never yet much such a thing as Luck.  There is something about all of this that I do not understand: but if we everneed to know it, you may be sure that we shall."

And a link to a lovely song...

How to Save a Life

For every person that comes to know me very well, there typically comes a day when they find out every important autobiographical fact about me in one sitting.  This is because telling my story makes one thing lead to another until all of it is just kind of out there and everyone is just a little bit overwhelmed and can only say things like "wow" or (my favorite) "hurm."

Spark notes: Growing up, I had a hard life.

Post script: It got better.

After I put some epsom salts under my listeners' noses and they come to, they will inevitably ask me this question: "Why aren't you more messed up?"  (aren't you wondering that a little now, too?)  Why no chip on my shoulder?  Well let me educate you...

As a child, my home life wasn't exactly conducive to endorsing that I was special.  Most (though not all) of the adults in my family were tackling big world problems and not really paying attention to what I was doing (except for my Saint of a Grandma), however remarkable or unremarkable what I did was.

                                                              Me, just being 4 and sassy

I can't exactly pinpoint the moment, but I would guess that I started believing that I was not altogether insignificant and the world wasn't entirely unfair in the fifth grade. That is when I met Shannon, my Big Sister from Big Brothers/ Big Sisters.  Until I graduated from high school in 2008, Shannon consistently took me on adventures every Tuesday (what a commitment), including an awkward trip in middle school to the liquor barn to pick out paper party plates (yes, Shannon, I told on you). She was there when my Mom died, she never missed a graduation, and she listened to every complicated boy-related issue I could come up with.  I truly became a part of her awesome family, was honored to be a bridesmaid in her wedding, and am now "Auntie Jessica" to her beautiful son.  We both moved from Louisville area, and now live a street over from one another in Lexington (small world, huh?).  

                                   Pictures from a Tuesday, the day before I went away for college,

                                                     and from Shannon's wedding 

I don't know if you have ever been mentored or served as a mentor, but regardless of if you have or have not, I'm sure that you understand that the longevity of our relationship is an exception not a rule.  Two of my sisters, Sarah and Ashley, had Bigs through BB/BS, too.  I'm sure their Bigs had great intentions when they signed up for the program, but they weren't able to deliver the unwavering consistency that kids with tough lives need.  They were no Shannons.

Shannon kept hanging out with me after I asked her to wear a shirt referencing Britney Spears to a church youth group type of thing, drove to my house countless times only to find out I was grounded for some stupid reason and couldn't hang out with her that night, and overlooked that I probably forgot to say thank you as often as I should have (“thanks for spending time with me!”).  

Like Shannon, my best friend, Katie, also made me a part of her family.  A big reason I felt special as a kid, and still feel special, is because of her awesome parents, Trish and Joe.  Trish took me to and from Cheer practices when I was a kid, tutored me in Pre-Calculus when I had a witch of a teacher, encourages my writing, and offers great advice.  Joe makes me feel like I am the most intelligent person alive (even though his daughter is much more intelligent than I am), laughs at my weird stories, and makes me feel like I can go places if I want to.  They picked a weird little 7 year old to include in their family, and that weird little 7 year old is still grateful. 

                                              Last Christmas when we visited the Pelletiers in

                                                                         sunny Florida 

As an adult, I have had two other influential mentors , Sara and Shelby.  (Are you thinking about how that word makes you sound old?)  They came to me at a time when my life was good, and I didn't really know I needed some extra help navigating through the world, but God knew.  He always knows.  I love Sara because she is supportive in every circumstance, never makes me feel like I owe her, and because she just has this indescribable way of getting through to me when I am upset and not ready to listen to others.  I love Shelby because she always has this urgency about everything, is the definition of a prayer warrior, and calls me instantly when she thinks something is going on with me (even when there is, in fact, nothing going on). On behalf of the best core group ever, thank you!

[This is where a picture of me and Shelby and Sara would be... if we took pictures.  

But we don't even have one somehow... three years guys... really?]

Shannon, Trish and Joe, Sara and Shelby all came to me in different stages of my life, but they all taught me about the value of consistency, loving like Jesus does, and what can happen if you invest in other people.  I’m special because they told me I am.  I invest in other people because these people invested so much in me (more on the awesome people I serve at a later date). 

Blog friends, consistently and intentionally tell someone they are special, because it can save their life.  It saved me.  By no particular talent or merit of my own, I was remarkably loved and am now able to be remarkably loving. That’s my secret. Isn’t it a good one? 

Waiting in Expectation

As with every new endeavor, I used my best friend (besties since we were 7... what a commitment), Katie, as a focus group of 1 for my first blog post.  Her reaction was, "I like it.  So you are basically saying you are going to fake it till you make it, right?"  Wrong, Bub, WRONG.  Your best friend is no faker (except, in honesty, sometimes I do wear “Tory Burch inspired” jewelry)!

                                          My favorite picture of us, at a "rally" in DC...

                                          the Stephen Colbert/ Jon Stewart rally (2010)

To serve as a daily reminder, one of my very favorite friends, Lesley, used to make her computer log-in passwords short inspirational phrases.  "Fake it till you make it" didn't make Lesley's password list, and it doesn't make mine either.  One of my favorites from her repertoire (which has since been retired, so don't try it, hackers!) was "waiting in expectation."  I just love that.  Waiting expectantly… 

                                     (I think this is probably when we fell in love, 2009)

Aren't we all, in some capacity, waiting expectantly?  Whether it is waiting for someone to acknowledge your hard work, waiting for a friend/family member/ significant other to suddenly change their personality and do X thing, waiting for the right job opportunity, or just waiting for God knows what (and he does know).  We are all waiting for and expecting some great big thing, whether it is due to us or not.  Whether it is coming or not.  Whether it is good for us or not.

What does this "waiting" look life for you?  Y para me (my favorite Spanish phrase), since I broke out of the nest in 2008, I have put the work in to prepare for the life I expected.  I have always had at least two jobs, have stayed in school (and may never get out at this rate), have been active in service work, played with every baby God gave me to play with, and only dated people worth dating (and by that, I mean person singular, but making it plural makes me sound more interesting and aloof).  I've been doing everything and it has been rather exhausting… aren’t you exhausted just listening to it?

Here's what I haven't done though... sat still, left room for changes, given myself enough time for fun, or enough time to even review my expectations.  Really I haven't waited at all, I've just kept expecting and moving. 

                                     Sitting (almost) still with one of my favorite toddlers 

                                                         on my lunch break 

So, in my moment of blog-inspired self-reflection clarity, lemme tell you what my self-assessment looks like... expectations for life: samezies (when you know what you want, you just know). Timeline: open for assessment.  Jessica: benched. 

While I’m benched, I’m still making a game-plan… shake my booty to as much Beyonce music as possible, wear shiny shoes every day, and wear sassy clothes I can’t wear in my 30s (and I don’t mean the Hollister jeans that I can’t move past, due to them fitting my body type perfectly).  The plan isn’t to find some magical thing to make me happy (aside from going to Disney World... I can't deny that is the cure to everything), or to trick myself and others into believing that I am, but to just do more of the things that already bring me joy (refer back to Disney World). 

                                                      No caption needed. Bliss.  

While I’m busy pursuing those endeavors, I’m also going to be watching God continue to answer my prayers better than I know how to ask them, and remember that he can mend the majority of my grief in this world with solutions as simple as a phone call.  Blog friends, won’t you wait (expectantly) and watch with me?