Yea, the title of this post is pretty accurate. Wow, it’s been a while! At the time of the last post, I was getting ready to go to girl’s retreat! Now, we are wading through the murky riparian swamp that is finals week. April was a wild ride! This is is going to be a long post, cause I got a lot to get through. Life floored the gas pedal and I almost got thrown out of the car these past few weeks.

But man, did I have fun this weekend.

So I’ll start with a brief few sentences about girl’s weekend-April 4th-6th. It was awesome and restful and there were alpacas and there were some sweet moments for sure. Nothing too crazy happened, which was a restful surprise I had not come to expect considering the past two girl’s retreats we ended up blindfolded by a lake the first year and baptizing a girl in the tree-house hot tub the second. Both perhaps, stories for another day. Very thankful to Jordyn who led the retreat and Molly Joy who gave up her performance weekend at Roots to do worship for us. Both set an amazing example in vulnerability in the things they shared.

I got to spend Easter with Jessie and the Pittiglio family. Dayna Pittiglio is such a bomb matriarch of that family (of 7 kids!) I want to be a mother like her one day. She even made an Easter basket for me since she knew I was spending the weekend with them, just as if I was one of her kids. How incredibly sweet is that?!

So right after Easter was the last round of interviews for an internship. It was at this point where I was both trusting and walking deeper with God and starting to have a nervous breakdown. I did, though, get to have sweet quiet times with Him every morning as I sought His face and prayed so hard that He would provide and give me a job for the summer. And He did. Most of you saw my post on Facebook that I got the Assistant Park Ranger position at Eagle Island. God knew that this would be the best place to put me, and I am so thankful He did-one of my dream jobs is to be a park ranger. I am so excited to just jump in the water and get the ball rolling. I start on May 28th-my 21st birthday. PLEASE come visit me this summer. All you have to do is take the ferry from Freeport. The island is beautiful, and I will give you a personal tour, if you so desire.

This weekend was the first weekend I’ve had to rest since January when I started work at Hannafords. I cannot tell you how nice it was to do absolutely nothing on Saturday morning for the first time in a while. I can’t bash Hanny’s too bad, though, because I am SO GRATEFUL that God placed me there now to be a light to my coworkers. You guys have no idea how much I’ve enjoyed cooking delicious things after shifts with some of the girls and just getting to know them in hopes that after spending enough time with them and earning their trust, I can start to share Jesus with them.

Oh no…I feel myself starting to go on a tangent-HANG ON!

I didn’t start working at Hanny’s for myself. I certainly don’t like bagging groceries and cashiering for sometimes up to 18 hours a week on top of a full school load and everything else I do. It has worn me down like a colored pencil. I have missed my weekends and my Sabbaths so dearly.  But I do it because I want to be able to bless my friends better. Please don’t hear any of this as me being boastful (trust me, that’s the last thing I would ever want. Me even talking about this is a step in vulnerability since I rarely talk about this kind of thing, especially about giving)-I’m just being reflectful of this past semester and want to encourage you and tell you it is possible! I have found this semester that it brings me so much joy to be able to give more freely to those around me. Here are some examples of God’s faithfulness that have come from just one semester of working there-

1. Like I mentioned, I get to now know some of my female coworkers who are also college students like me and hang out and build relationships with them. Even if this was the only good that came from working at Hannafords, it would still be worth it. 
   

   Getting back to ratchet kitchen! I really did almost drop it!

   

   This is the blueberry pie that was gone within half an hour
2. I entered a poetry contest that had a prize of $200 for the winning poems. If I won, I wasn’t gonna keep any of it, but give it away. I didn’t win, but I still wanted to be able to do those things for the people I had in mind. I said, “Screw it! Just because I didn’t win doesn’t mean I can’t do it!” Right after my crazy Saturday-before-Easter shift ended, I was able to give my boss (she’s my age, it’s not like she’s my boss boss, but she’s a really cool girl) a gift card so she could have money to get food on her breaks. She was so surprised that she tried to give it back and say it wasn’t allowed to do that. Sneaky girl, I almost fell for it, but luckily Vinnie who was at the register told me she was making it up and I ran out of there before she tried to give it back to me again. Sometimes you just look at people and know they need a blessing. Be attentive to God in those quick moments.
3. I was able to give to my friend Ali’s project of a recording album in honor of her cousin who committed suicide. I never would have been able to afford to give so freely to it if I wasn’t working. Fun fact-she has asked me to play cajón (pronounced ca-hone, in case you were wondering) for the album and I’m going into the studio this Tuesday!! WOWZA! Wish me luck!

These are just three examples of how good can come from work. Again, it really sucks working a dead-end job, I know! But that doesn’t mean you can’t find some good in it. When you look through God’s eyes and learn how to be a blessing where He has placed you, magical things happen.

OK! Tangent over.

This Saturday night I got to play cajón for Molly Joy’s show at Roots. We had a blast, didn’t practice (as always), and just did our thing. I love love LOVE playing for her and “adding a little spice” as she likes to put it.

Guys, I don’t even play the drum kit. I just kind of picked up cajón after my first summer at the ranch. I really don’t know why these ladies keep letting me play with them. They are incredible musicians. You would think Ali would want someone who ACTUALLY PLAYS THE DRUMS to do percussion for her PROFESSIONALLY RECORDED ALBUM.

But no. And she told me so again when we bumped into each other on our way to go rock climbing. Abby White, the awesome and incredibly outdoorsy Cru Lifelines leader, was at Molly’s show Saturday night and invited me later when we were hanging out and baking maple chocolate chip cookies at her house to go rock climbing with her posse on Sunday. Well, I wasn’t gonna pass up that opportunity, especially since I’ve never outdoor climbed before. Ali and I got to have a very comprehensive and laughter-filled conversation sitting on the hill-side after we both climbed. I don’t have any pictures ’cause I was trying to live in the moment this afternoon and not be on my phone, but luckily Abby got tons! “Screw finals” is the moral of the story. I’ll get it done this week, I guess…

Abby and her co-leader-Lifelines people are awesome!

The site was somewhere past Sebago.

Ali was so freakin’ graceful…

…and then there’s my fat butt trying to climb. But I did make it to the top!

Phew! This was a marathon of a post. This might be the last blog until I am done traveling and settled at the Eagle Island job, unless I get really bored whilst in Florida. I hope y’all have fun summers planned wherever you are. I can’t wait to hear all the things you crazy people are doing. I am really excited to spend my first summer in Maine, continue building and growing relationships, and sitting back and watching how God makes seeds grow in this beautiful harvest of a season.

To end this post, I charge you to be wild this summer. Whether that is connecting in a deeper way with nature, throwing off insecurities and unlocking hidden parts of yourself, or embracing the crazy inside of you as I so often like to do-get wild, friends!

~J

P.S. Here is a sneak peak of my summer project! I am going to hand measure and draw my own topography map of the East End in Portland. This is incredibly nerdy-I’ve really just outed my inner nerd-but I really like this as it simultaneously numbs and stimulates my brain as I do it. You can see I’ve already started. If you’re curious as to how in the world you do this, let’s make plans to meet up and I’ll show you a little bit!

Spoilers for the novel, Beartown, ahead. This is going to be a longer post but PLEASE read it through. This book, and I, have a story to tell. 

As I was sitting in the Baton Rouge Airport on a normal muggy Sunday, waiting for my flight home to Maine, I did not expect to be shaken down to my roots…

As I referenced in my post about Chris and Liz’s wedding, I sat in the BR airport for around 7 hours. It happened to be a nice airport, with large windows letting in lots of natural light, but very small. I could walk the whole length of it in 5 minutes. Early morning being the only time I could get dropped off and flight delays were the reasons for the long wait time. I was a little nervous, because Jenna and long stretches of free time do NOT mix well together. At the MSNBC kiosk, I bought some snacks, and was looking at the books on the shelf. All new fiction and nonfiction and of course, overpriced. 

This one caught my eye. The cover reminded me of John Green novels, which I am not overly fond of, but I still read the short blurb on what it was about…

“People say Beartown is finished. A tiny community nestled deep in the forest, it is slowly losing ground to the ever encroaching trees. But down by the lake stands an old ice rink, built generations ago by the working men who founded this town. And in that ice rink is the reason people in Beartown believe tomorrow will be better than today. Their junior ice hockey team is about to compete in the national semi-finals, and they actually have a shot at winning. All the hopes and dreams of this place now rest on the shoulders of a handful of teenage boys.

Being responsible for the hopes of an entire town is a heavy burden, and the semi-final match is the catalyst for a violent act that will leave a young girl traumatized and a town in turmoil. Accusations are made and, like ripples on a pond, they travel through all of Beartown, leaving no resident unaffected.”

Well, that was enough to catch my eye. I picked it up and went to the register. I BEGGED the worker, Gabriel, to let me sit outside the store and read it to help me pass the time to my flight. He, to my great surprise, let me, and I spent the next 5 hours reading and ultimately finishing the book. It was 432 pages, and I luckily ended with enough time to return it and catch my flight, but it was pretty close and I didn’t think I was going to make it. A fun fact you might not have known about me-I can actually read a book quite fast if I want to. I read another lengthy book called The Power (another fantastic read if you have the time, and even if you don’t you should still read it) in two days while I was in Florida.

Ok, that’s great Jenna. Why do we need a whole blog post about this one book about hockey?

I’m so glad you asked. I’m going to try to give you the summary and premise quickly. Strap in your seatbelts.

The book takes place in a small forest town in Sweden. However, as I was reading it, about 90% of the time I could picture in my readers imagination it being an American town somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. The town centralizes on hockey, and it is the only way they stay economically relevant. The town is dying, and the only way these people are going to survive is by having their hockey team win the championship. There is a lot of exposition and deep character development leading up to the semi-finals, with stories following members of the hockey team (the star player, the one whose really good but also a rebel, the lowest on the food chain, etc.) the daughter of the hockey club manager, the manager himself, his wife, the coach, many many perspectives of the citizens of Beartown. They win the semi-finals, and the star player Kevin throws a party at his house. The party, as you can imagine if you have known hockey players, is wild and out of control, but Kevin who is 17/18 and the manager’s daughter Maya, who is 15 or just turned 16, end up in his quiet bedroom alone. The book up to this point has been building up to the fact that Maya has a huge crush on him etc.

And then in like one paragraph the whole tone shifts as Kevin, this star player, the perfect leader and young adult, precedes to and successfully rapes Maya right there in his bedroom. She tried to fight him, but she was no match at all for the guy who is a physical wonder in the prime of his youth.

The rest of the book after this climax is the aftermath of Maya’s rape and what it does to Beartown. The whole town is divided after Maya finally goes to the police after telling her parents what happened, as she couldn’t keep it a secret forever. The police arrest Kevin as the team is heading to the finals, and they lose without him, effectively killing whatever hope Beartown had of surviving. The whole town and especially the parents of the rest of the members of the hockey team blame Maya for what happened, and following acts of violence and victim-blaming tactics happen to her to try to scare her into further silence. Kevin is released and not brought to trial due to lack of evidence. The book ends with Maya taking a shotgun and meeting Kevin on his run through the woods and coming very close to killing him. She decides not to, and the book pretty much ends there after most of the influential/rich people of the town move away to the neighboring one and have their kids play hockey for that town, leaving Maya’s family and those who were loyal to her the remaining residents of Beartown. However, the story I will admit is complicate. The truth that Maya said did in fact cost a lot of people their jobs and their livelihoods in the end. The parents of the team were angry with her because it is their kids hockey careers that they have poured all their money and time into to give them a chance to succeed beyond the forests of Beartown that she has ruined by coming forward.

Woah…

Imagine getting on a plane and stewing in that for the next 8 hours of travel.

Along with the theme of sexual assault, the book also had themes of homophobia, immigration, and gender roles. I wish I had the time to go through all of these, as I said there was deep character development for the large cast of characters leading up to the rape. But I will share one moment of the book that particularly hit me hard.

Benji (the really good player but also rebel) happens to be Kevin’s best friend. Benji at this point does not believe Kevin when he said the sex was consensual. In other words, he knows Kevin is full of shit and is lying to the town and to himself. He runs into Maya in the school bathroom where she has just shattered a mirror by punching it after being called a slut by her classmates. He just looks at her, he doesn’t say anything, and she walks out bleeding. She stops after she hears him literally rip the sink from the wall and trash the rest of the bathroom. I would have been confused as to why he did that if the author did not explain it as he ended the chapter. Benji trashed the bathroom to cover up that Maya broke the mirror, because he had nothing more to lose as the “rebel kid” by getting suspended for doing it, while Maya had her whole credibility on the line as she was already being labelled as an unreliable victim who acts in anger. Isn’t that wild?

Benji probably became my favorite character for doing that and being the only one who knew Kevin was lying and still deciding not to stick up for a rapist.

…

1 in 4 girls in America have in some way been sexually assaulted, and I think about the girl’s retreat I am going on this weekend in which 12 girls are attending.  I think about my closest friends, girls who I call sisters, and I think of their stories. Their eyes haunt me. I have held the weight of a witness for so many, I bet if I were to tell you, you would be shocked to your core as I have been time and time again. It haunts me almost every night as I wonder-

What could I have done? What could I have done? What could I have done to stop this madness?

I read somewhere once that it is the price we pay for walking through the world as women, and ain’t that the truth, I guess. If it weren’t, then we wouldn’t have such a frightening statistic, now would we?

This book was only one story, one girl, the smallest piece of a larger narrative that shows no sign of slowing down. I’ve written so much painful poetry on this subject, always shrouded in metaphor because the truth is like lemon juice on open wounds. Nobody wants to hear that ugly truth.

There is healing for Maya at the end. There is healing in all of the stories I’ve heard from my friends. And sometimes there’s not. Recovery, I have learned the hard way, is not a straight line; more of a Gordian knot in the pit of the stomach. There is so much hurting, so much lack of basic respect in this world, I do wonder sometimes how I manage to walk through it every day. But we persevere, because that’s what women do and have done since the beginning.

For the men who read this, I know you can be better. I know you can put aside the masculinity this culture and media have taught you is right and appreciate women for what they are-beautiful, treasured, loved, respected, caring, amazing creatures God has designed. Instead of thinking how you can get a girl to like or pay attention to you, or how to shame her if she doesn’t bolster your ego, think about how treasured and respected you should make her feel, and give her the freedom and right to occupy as much space as you do wherever you go. If you’re a guy and reading this, there is a good chance I know you. So with nothing but love and hopefulness from the bottom of my heart, I leave you with these words from Olivia Gatwood in her fantastic performance poem, Ode to the Women of Long Island-

“If you ever, I mean ever, so much as make a women feel uncomfortable, I will take you to the deli and put your hand through the meat slicer.”

~J

A spring greeting to y’all! It certainly is March here in Maine, with high pressure systems creating clear but gusty days as the hope of those long warm nights is starting to creep into all of our minds.

Time is ticking slowly on my spring break, where so far I have done nothing but work. It kind of bummed me out yesterday as I scrolled through my Facebook feed and saw all kinds of fun happening while I was stuck at my shift then and for the rest of the week. I did choose to do this (and so far it beats school and homework any day) but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t a little jealous of all you people out there having fun. So live it up for me friends.

Anyway, it’s really not that important-I just needed to vent a little bit. Venting over! Guess what?! In 4 days I will be going back to the Battle of Maine martial arts tournament to compete like I did last year! Let me tell you-this year I am out for revenge. I mean, not really. It’s not like I’m boiling hot angry at anyone, but I do expect a lot out of myself comparatively to last year for all three of the categories-weapons, open-hand forms, and fighting. Hopefully my friend will get an awesome picture of me looking really badass and I can post it to Facebook.

This has nothing to do with what I’m writing about, but look at this handsome fella!

ANYWAY, I believe those are all the life updates for now. Let us begin a movie review! Well…not really.

Some spoilers for Captain Marvel from this point on if you haven’t seen it yet!

By total coincidence, I ended up seeing Captain Marvel on International Women’s Day. This is funny because two years ago I ended up at the big Women’s March in Boston right after the presidential election by total accident! That is definitely a story for another day. But I went with my roommates and some of the martial arts club, which at the moment is me and 4 dudes. I ABSOLUTELY loved the film, but the boys said otherwise. They by no means hated it, but felt that Brie Larson fell flat and the movie wasn’t really that spectacular or relatable. And about halfway through the conversation in my car on the way home, I began to piece together what they were really trying to say.

A common desire humans share in regards to cinema is we want to see people who look like us. This can be in terms of race, gender, whatever really. It’s a very unconscious thing we look for. This is why Black Panther was such a big deal. For the first time in a lot of peoples lives, they were going to the movies and seeing actors who looked like them playing the LEADING roles. This is important, especially for Marvel, because this is the FIRST TIME a woman has played the leading role in the MCU, meaning she is who gets the most screen time, is who we focus on, and ultimately who we have to care about to root for.

I actually have this in fridge-magnet form!

My diagnosis for why my guy friends truly didn’t like Captain Marvel is that the genders actually have an unconscious inability to relate to each other on the deepest human level. So let me come in personally on that statement to try to clear it up. I am a huge fan of the Marvel movies-they’re actually the only movies I will go and pay to see in theaters. But I’ve never walked away from Captain America or Iron Man moved emotionally by their performances or relating to my very soul to what those guys were going through. With Captain Marvel however, I was close to tears at some points. Because what I saw looked like me. All throughout the movie, Jude Law’s character tells her she needs to control her emotions and forget who she is to be her most powerful self. It was basically the theme of the movie, her trying to figure her life out while literally every male character in some way tells her she needs to control herself to varying degrees. But when she finally realizes and embraces that it is her human-ness and emotions that give her strength, she literally starts glowing and radiating cool fire energy and kicks everybody’s ass and sends Jude Law home with his tail between his legs after finding out it was him who was the one who betrayed her and tried to strip her of her identity.

I’ve never seen a man have to control or even straight up deny what goes on inside his  brain or heart or even body for crying out loud! They are encouraged to live passionately and boldly and loudly. But I feel that there is so much pressure on women to suppress everything about them. And conversely, I actually have no idea what it is like in the head of the male species, and what that statement would say if it were coming from a dude. A man could totally walk out of Captain America: The First Avenger and really relate to what Steve Rogers had to go through in the Army. I will never know what it is like to walk through this world as a man to my core, down to my DNA, and vice versa. So how, if this is true, could I relate on a deep and personal level to a man on screen, and why would a man want to see a woman struggle through accepting the broken parts about her, if he’s never had to do that? It’s just really never gonna happen. However…

This is no excuse not to be understanding and celebratory of each other. God made both men and women for a reason, and the whole point was so that we would compliment, not divide from each other. The division is what I see so much of today. Men and women HATE each other! Just turn on the news-there is so much widespread violence against women all over the world, mass incarcerations of men, etc. But as long as we are understanding of the differences about us and not bitter about them (oops there’s a challenge for me), we can begin to reconcile millennium of war against each other.

Men: Please know that walking through the world as a woman is hard. We are emotional beings, God designed us that way. Our insides LITERALLY change on a monthly basis. So “getting a grip” is actually quite a hard and painful thing to do. Being a women means being so delicate and so fierce at the same time, all day, everyday.

Women: Please know that walking through the world as a man is hard. They are burdened with having it together all the time. There is SO much pressure on them to be perfect and eloquent and strong, I really don’t know how guys do it. Being a man means being a warrior, but sometimes there is no war to fight.

Let’s try to understand and love one another even though we are very different. Have a super (haha!) week.

~J

P.S. Go and see Captain Marvel if you haven’t yet. I would highly recommend it, even if you aren’t a huge Marvel fan. If superhero movies like this were around when I was a kid, I would probably be a much bigger superhero fan. I think the recommendation for kids is 10+ but it’s always up to you at your parenting discretion.

P.P.S. If you see it and STILL think Brie Larson falls flat as an actress, I dare you to go watch the movie Room, one of my favorites starring her, and tell me she’s not top quality.

What a weekend, friends.

As I write this now on Monday evening, I am SO thankful we had a snow day today here in Maine so I could catch up on my homework, do all my laundry, rinse 3 different airports from body, and write this post. I’m not even exaggerating guys-my body is HURTING as the exhaustion of travel is catching up to me now. Please continue to pray that I can get all caught up.

But enough of that! Let me tell you about the weekend! I’m sure you’re dying to know. Also, I wrote a poem that will be featured below about traveling through the south for a whole weekend-hope you like it! If you don’t have time to read this whole post, the poem will do a pretty good job of summing it up-it goes through every place I stopped on this wild trip! 😄

After a long day on Thursday, I made it to Liesel’s house in Portland. I stayed the night there and at 4:00 am we headed out for the Portland Airport. I made my connection in Philly (not barely, but it was closer than I normally like) because you cannot get a direct flight anywhere out of PWM. From Philly it was off to Atlanta, where Tatum saved the day (Tatum always saves the day, though) by picking me up and after we picked up Willy and made sure Katie, who was originally supposed to drive, was still alive (she was sick in bed), we fought our way through Atlanta traffic and were Baton Rouge bound. We had dinner at Cracker Barrel somewhere in Alabama, and 9 hours total at around midnight, we pulled into our airbnb and had a nice night of sleeping into Saturday morning.

Tatum brought the ever friendly Birdie for the trip! Yay dogs!

Willy and Birdie definitely got along…

We absolutely could not start the drive until we ate Chick-Fil-A.

After a fantastic brunch and a quick run to SuperTarget Saturday morning/afternoon, all the ranch folks were accounted for at our airbnb. This is where things got fun. All 7 of us started to get ready for the wedding, and it was just like old days at the ranch the day of the Cheyenne rodeo with too many people and not enough mirror space!

The joy these women exhuberate is amazing.

The wedding itself was absolutely gorgeous, phenomenal, and mind-blowing. It was the first wedding I have ever been to, and Chris and Liz pulled out all the stops for this party, that’s for sure! It was very strange to see all us ranch people dressed up. I was so used to seeing all these people in jeans, button downs, and cowboy hats that suits and makeup was weird now! I think one of the guests at the ranch who was at the wedding came up to us staff and said he didn’t recognize us without all the mud. Go figure, I guess!

The beautiful couple walking down the aisle.

The lovely Katie and I in front of the plantation (with a surprise appearance by my dinosaur purse)

I think Liz L (4th from the left) made the best face.

The first dance

Yea, you saw this right-they had a firework show at the end of the reception!!!

All the ranch peeps!!

We ate, we danced, I cried when Liz came down the aisle, and it was quite a party to say the least. After fighting the Mardi Gras traffic home (because on top of everything else, this weekend was Mardi Gras of course) we changed out of our fancy getups and I crashed in bed.

Sunday morning was hard, because it was time to say goodbye. It’s never goodbye forever, but with ranch people, it always seems so. My heart is like a balloon when I’m with them. It’s so full and light, but when we have to part, it feels like it pops and shatters because I miss my friends so much. I sat at the Baton Rouge airport for 7 hours because my flight wasn’t supposed to leave until 5:00 PM.

Sunday morning makeup and breakfast at the house.

It is at this point that I would now like to award the MVP’s for this trip. 1) Tatum Utley for picking me up in Atlanta when Katie was too sick, and if she didn’t, well I might not have gotten to this wedding. 2) Gabriel at the MSNBC kiosk store in the BR airport. I picked up a book and begged him to let me sit right outside the store and he could keep an eye on me and let read it without having to pay for it. I was so surprised that he said yes, and it did kill all the time I had. THANK YOU GABRIEL, I TRULY WOULD HAVE GONE MAD! The book was so fantastic and impactful it will be getting its own blog post soon, so be on the lookout.

My flight to Atlanta was delayed because of the tornadoes and rainstorms that were coming in, and I was so scared I was going to be stuck in the Atlanta airport for the night.  I got on the flight, and before we landed the flight attendants were able to tell me that the Atlanta to Portland flight was also delayed. PRAISE. GOD. I timed myself getting from D terminal to A terminal (which was about a mile, no joke), and if that second connection hand’t been delayed, I would not have made it and that was the LAST flight into Portland for the night. I did not expect to get my week’s worth of cardio running in gypsy pants through the Atlanta airport, and if I had known what a sprint it would be, well let’s just say I would have worn a sports bra. Luckily I made it with time to spare, and got on the  plane for the second to last stretch of travel.

Once we landed at midnight and I turned airplane mode off on my phone, I got messages from my friend Rikki saying she could pick me up and drop me off in Gorham since she was on her way there anyway. WHAT!? Keep in mind, it is now 1 AM, and I now do not have to pay for a cab back home!!! We drove home in the snowstorm, alone on the roads, and it was so much better than paying for a random man to drive me home after the day I just had. God is just so good sometimes.

I collapsed in my bed at 2:00 am with my alarm set for 8:30 am for class. But as you now know, today was a snow day, and I had all of today to catch up on sleep, do my laundry, take a shower, clean my room, and write this post and begin to process all that happened this weekend. Glen Cummings gets the honorable mention for this trip for cancelling school all day today.

So now I am starting to save up for the next one-Katie’s wedding in Texas in May! People think I’m absolutely out of my mind to spend so much money and travel so far for just a wedding, but it is such an honor that Liz wanted me to share in the happiest day of her life with her, how could I refuse? Y’all know how much friendships mean to me. This is just something friends do (good ones, at least).

No matter how many states I have to cross or tornadoes I have to dodge, I’ll be there.

Pan American to the Bayou (2019)

I. Portland, ME

The snow is lingering, and a long day ends

in Portland in the bed of a friend with

mulled apple cider lulling us to sleep.

II. Philadelphia, PA

It’s disgusting out here in Philly,

but after all, this is only a stop. 

A pause, after the tip-toed sprint to the gate to keep going…

III. Atlanta, GA

Georgia was hot compared to home.

Muggy air and chick-fil-a to kick off the 9 hour drive to Baton Rouge,

this is the start of my first time through the deep south-

Alabama, Mississippi, while we listen to a Bill Murray documentary and the

local radio stations driving through the rolling hills.

IV. Mobile, Alabama

In Mobile, I got my tastes of southern hospitality and collard greens,

and I liked the hospitality better. 

People eat so much food in the south-portion control is not a thing!

Biscuits, all day every day, food fried and smothered with all the 

yummy greasy things that are absolutely terrible for you!

And now I now why they say everything in the south is bigger. 

V. Baton Rouge, LA

My eyes were to heavy to see Mississippi,

but we pulled in on fumes to Baton Rouge at midnight. 

The wedding was in full swing, 

a happy couple glowing white, with a party that pulled no punches

And all the friends from ranch life gathered and stay together. 

It’s funny because I see not our fancy dresses and suits but jeans and button downs and cowboy hats and mud. 

These people that I’ve lived through the trenches with, all bonded by that, now drinking champagne and wearing heels. 

On Sunday morning, 

there is nothing left in the house besides paper towels of lipstick kisses and lonely echoes as we all head out the door. 

And I wonder 

(I hate when I wonder)

when the next time we will have this will ever come again. 

I cried in Louisiana

and it was no surprise ’cause it’s so darn humid here, and it’s only right that I should saturate too. 

What an escape, if only for a weekend, and so soon it will be back to the normal routine with my yankee friends. 

This double life of cowboy and Bean boots will tug at your heartstrings,

wising so bad for both the rocky oceans of New England (which is home) and the high mountains of the West (where life, even I will admit, is just simpler sometimes)

As I slowly make my way home from a truly Pan-American trip, I wonder if anyone else lives this double-life like I do

But I catch myself,

because I know that I’m the only one who can live this (my) life. 

Wild adventures will teach you that, no matter what state in this great nation you call home. 

~J

PS: Guess what! I found a surprise at the Cracker Barrel in Alabama-Moxie! I laughed my head off so hard-who would have thought that awful (in my opinion) Maine drink would be in a store all the way in Alabama. Why do people like this stuff???

Greetings once again from Maine smack dab in the middle of winter!

I really can’t believe this was my third winter conference. I said to all the newbies that came with us this year that I was a veteran at this point. And the scariest thing about that bold statement was that I think it’s really true!

All kidding aside, we had a fantastic weekend. However, anyone at the conference could tell you that something about me was off. Hmmmm…was it the new hair? No, different shirt, maybe something with your voice, Jenna?

I was sick for all of conference. I lost my voice before we even got to Southbridge.

The Thursday before we left was a ROUGH day. I went not only to both my classes, but also work while running a fever and sick with a cold with a million things to do before I could metaphysically get in my car and leave for conference. It was not fun, and as I have been very slowly weening and coughing off the cold this week, I looked back and realized that Thursday was the worst day of the whole thing by far. All I wanted to do was be in my bed so far away from humanity, but like I said-I had to get through a million things before that could be a reality.

Although I knew very clearly that this was a sign from God telling me to SLOW DOWN, I was determined not to let it impact my weekend, and I like to think I kept a relatively positive attitude about the whole thing while we were there. I would be kind of nauseous early in the morning until we ate breakfast, so instead of doing devotionals all I could do was sit and talk with people and try not to throw up. I could barely talk, and when I did, it was in a hoarse, cracking whisper. Forget about singing during worship. This was the saddest part for me. I just wanted to worship my little heart out, but for some reason, God kept me silent this weekend.

I know I’ve shared this photo on here before, but I love the moment it captures. This was my first winter conference in 2017, and on Saturday night my stomach started to hurt, so Haley told me to lie on the ground with my knees up to my chest. I did it, but she also did it with me so I wouldn’t feel so weird (talk about getting down to my level!) And we looked at each other and started cracking up at how crazy we both were/are. I don’t remember who snapped the photo, but am so thankful for it.

The conference itself was a blur, and went by all too fast. From big sessions to workshops to little things such as what I like to call Nav Soup Time, or for all my Navigators out there who want the TLA-NST. Haha! This is the part of the time on Saturday where we all sit in the hotel’s hot tub and just relax for a few minutes and talk to each other. And it’s like soup cause were all in there and the water’s really hot….well, you get the idea!

Some personal highlights for me? Hey, thanks for asking!

1.Honestly, number one would probably be me getting to do Navs Jeopardy on Saturday night in front of EVERYONE. I love being in front of people, and don’t get that many opportunities now that I’ve stopped theater; so it was really fun to do that. I got not only the question asking to recite Galatians 2:20 (which I have memorized and I think I impressed people!) Side note: an amazing girl names Zella from NYU recognized me as ‘Galatians 2:20 girl’ on Sunday when I went up to talk to her. I fangirl-ed so hard! But I also got the question asking which Northeast Nav staff raises pigs on the side! It is none other than our very own Rus Willette, whose pigs I have met and possibly eaten? What are the odds that someone from southern Maine would get that questions!? Everybody, especially those from USM, were laughing so hard at this game-thanks Peter Antonucci!

2.  Getting to see people from the other campuses is always a highlight, but getting to reconnect with Paula was awesome. Her and I played hooky during the class sessions and found a quiet corner to talk and catch up. She shared her heart with me, and I got to tell her some of my dreams that I haven’t gotten the opportunity to share with anybody yet! Much needed break time and loved getting that one-on-one with her.

3.We took a lot of first-timers from southern Maine this year, for both winter conference and to Nav conferences in general. It was fun seeing them get to experience for the first time, and had my friend Bretteney and I looking back on our first experiences 2 years ago here. It was very meta to say the least.

Some rad kids from MMA, with Pat in the center who had to take this selfie three times before it was somewhat useable

Part of the gaggle of southern maine girls, caught in a moment of laughter of surprise.

Worship was fantastic as always. Doesn’t seem like a lot of people, though, until you look at the next picture…

Over 250 students were at this conference!

Paula (mentioned above) with the ever loving and gorgeous Abby Lord

So we’re powering through the rest of the semester academically, getting ready for a wedding in Louisiana, and overall just trying not to cough up a lung!
Please continue to pray for….

1. My alongsider-ship relationships with other girls to continue to grow and flourish throughout the semester. (I promise I will make a blog post soon about why I don’t really use the word discipling at least for right now! The distinction is coming soon, I promise!!!) Pray that they will grow and not regress in this community.
2. The many girls God has connected me with this semester that don’t know Jesus yet or are on the fence about Him. There are so many that He has placed in my path, I know it is no coincidence. Pray for boldness and direction for me and open hearts for them. Also pray for the healing from deep trauma that only Jesus can bring into some of these girl’s hearts.
3. Overall for a semester of growth, rejuvenation, and fun! I don’t know about you, but I feel like I haven’t had some good clean fun in a while. Hmmmmm, we’ll need to fix that soon…
4. All of our staff who just had babies-look how cute they are! Little Willow and Emmett.

Here is my charge until next time-Go and do something FUN. Have it be YOUR time, and if you want to invite other people along with you, that’s fine too. Just go do something you love for at least 2 hours or something. Don’t get caught up with the depression of winter, but actively do things to help your body and mind and spirit stay good!

See y’all soon.

~J

Maybe, I am an ox. I work too hard, I work way too hard. So big, and bulky, and ugly, who could call such an animal their favorite? So ugly. They’re beasts of burden, you know. Meant to do the job that you can’t, and can shoulder around 6,000 pounds. Shoulder muscles that churn under immense pressure, and when I look down at myself in the shower, I can’t help but always compare my legs to those of a horse or an ox. Bruised knees and too much muscle, even a big scar from a bloody plow-I swear I carry 6,000 pounds every day. They were domesticated over 10,000 years ago by some of the first civilizations on earth. But I think they forgot to tame me.

Maybe, I am a hummingbird. I am drawn to boldness, and sweetness, and it will be my unravelling. Falling head over heels over wings for shiny skin. And confidence that drips like nectar. Hummingbirds are so light, I’m surprised they even exist at all. If it is so light, and you could blow it out of your hands with one breath; what’s to stop you from doing the same to me? They’re too hyperactive to make friends. They just make enemies. Oh, if you could only see inside my heart that I swear beats a thousand times a minute. It feels so much all at once. People tell me it’s an endearing thing, and I think to myself Now I’m almost sure they have never felt anything like this before. If they had, they would simply cry with me and say nothing at all. 

Maybe, I am a lion. Lionesses really are savage creatures if you’ve ever seen a picture of them with blood all over their snouts. In heat, they’re wild, and so I am. But I wear a smile that says, It’s all good. When in reality, just like a lion in heat, my insides are churning, bloody and wild, and there is nothing anyone can do to change any of it, I am sure.

Maybe, I am a fox. Foxes have such bad reputations, and I wonder what they ever did to deserve such a rap. Sometimes people see my face and they think easy. I never meant to turn suspicious and sly like apples turn sour, but spend enough time being pelted by sticks on the nose, being chased away, and it’s no wonder the whole of it hasn’t just fallen to pieces yet. Aren’t we all just trying to survive? Foxes have to eat. Where did we get off thinking our rights were so much more important than any other starving bellies in the world just because we’re human? Foxes are still paying for the sin that is them simply being alive, and I swear every night, I am too-tossing and turning under painfully silken skin itching with the knowledge that I don’t deserve anything at all.

I could compare myself to a thousand animals, but maybe it’s just because I’m too scared of my own humanity that I won’t. How, so like the ox, I like to tear up the ground I walk on and leave it all cracked and broken behind. How, so like the hummingbird, my heart is one beat away from bursting like a balloon. How, so like the lion, I can let no one tell me stop! once I’ve tasted blood. How, like the fox, it wasn’t one person but years of seeing my own kind be killed for their softness that turned me stone-faced to sob stories.

Who can love these things? All these shortcomings. How do you embrace the roughness, the hyperactive, the blood dripping from my chin, the callousness of it all?! Tell me. I’m looking for my humanity in the wrong places, trying to make sense of something I should  have never gone looking for in the first place.

~J

This piece was inspired by Sierra DeMulder’s poem “I Have Mistaken Myself”

It’s almost time to start the semester! We just have to get through this snowstorm, and then the real fun can start.

Speaking of real fun, that’s all I’ve been doing since I got back to Maine. Visiting people, catching up, making plans, etc. since that all tends to become “less important” and “harder to do” once school starts. No excuses, my friends. Take time for the people in your life. You don’t know what they may be going through. Work, school, societal success? All things you can’t take with you to the other side when you’re dead. You know what does remain through the ages, though? The loyalty of friendship.

Did you know there is a section of the book of Hebrews dubbed the “hall of heroes”? Chapter 11 talks about the faith of many Israelites who definitely earned the title of hero. And that’s nice, but I never got to go on a hike with Moses or do some carpentry with Noah. So I wrote in my bible on the page next to chapter 13, “my hall of heroes” to make it more personal and I filled it with the people in my life who mean the most to me. Look through the photos for some examples, and for gosh sakes, I couldn’t put everyone, cause you would be here forever.

I’ve been thinking (more like prayerfully wrestling) a lot about the women in my life who have poured into me, especially as I start my 20’s. I used to think that I was not worth noticing, much less worth enough to be cared for. I’m trying to shake off all of that crap from adolescence in addition to many other things.

I wrote a poem. I would like to share it here, if that’s ok? If you’re familiar with the enneagram, it’s the six-est poem to ever six, since I am a six (counter-phobic with a 5 wing). Many times when I need to work things out with God, I’ll sit down at my desk or at a Starbucks with full intention of praying and reading the bible for wisdom and doing an assortment of other things I think to be super spiritual. However, I usually end up writing instead. And when I get to the end of that poem or whatever, literally none of the problems I sat down with are solved, I didn’t gain any answer, and I probably only talked to God about it for like 5 minutes before the allure of a blank page and a pencil carried me away.

But I feel so much lighter.

A fun little fingerprint for this poem that you probably wouldn’t notice unless I told you-lots of punctuation is missing and it is very sporadically placed throughout the whole thing. I did this purposely to mirror the writing process for this particular poem. I would write a line, stop, write a stanza, sleep on it, finish a part, cry a little, and then it was done! I’ve was pretty on-the-go for the past two days this poem was birthed. I really hope you like it.

I.

One night

I decided to throw away the moon

I haven’t stopped changing into a werewolf

But I don’t think those two things are related anymore

One night I decided to run boiling wild and I

ended up staring the Dark Forest in the face

I was too scared (to go further) 

because it looked like it would just swallow me whole

So I turned back with my hands shoved deep in my pockets

So later that night,

I tied them to the bedpost

and swore that I would never look there again.

One night

I told some girls about my staring contest with the forest

And I have never been the same.

II.

I have never been the same

since I decided to

Start Trusting Women

I might boldly say it was the best decision I ever made

To be able to look upon our bodies with pure eyed glace

instead of bitter wildness.

So glad our bodies have

grown past seedling, weeds, and predator

Grown through adolescent-

Synonymous with shame, stretching, comparison, scarring-

And now

here-

What I sometimes refer to as the mud-filled mouths of our twenties-

Bold full women

who have put the ways of childhood behind them

You would be quick to miss this miracle

if you’ve never heard a room overflowing with women’s musical laughter.

III.

I am so nearsighted

I am so selfish

I remember everything

but most nights it still feels like I’m paying for sins I don’t remember committing

But here I am

On the precipice of a decade

overwhelmed by all the darkness

but so ready to go down swinging in Glory.

I can only hope that those around me would do the same

Then, maybe

I will be OK.

How are you making time for those in your hall of heroes? Have you ever thought about those who have helped you become who you are now? Have you written them down so you remember them? My encouragement today is to do so. Imitate your leaders! Pray for your leaders! Don’t lose perspective, and don’t lose heart.

~J

“Remember your leaders, who spoke the word of God to you. Consider the outcome of their way of life and imitate their faith.”-Hebrews 13:7

This is the second story of our winter break story series! I was racking my brain trying to think of a story that didn’t involve the ranch, and this is the one I landed on.

Side note: I am currently writing this at the airport while I am waiting for my flight back to Maine, and I really have to go to the bathroom. I hate taking all my carry-on luggage in with me, so I’ll probably just hold it for the next 4 hours. 

Anyway! This is the story of how I got the cops called on me…

The summer of 2016, before I started college, I worked for the Rockland County Conservation and Service Corps. Although a mouthful to say, it was an AWESOME place to work. New York readers, this is an awesome opportunity for college-age students interested in environmental science or other similar fields. I am SO lucky that there was something like this is my hometown to give me practical field experience before I went away. I was one of the youngest on the corps, as many were in their later college years and I had just turned 18. But then again, I tend to be the youngest wherever I go.

Building new trail on the AT’s little brother, the Adirondack Traill, that runs from Albany to NYC!

This was the corps after cleaning up a lake with literal tons of trash pollution in a hasidic community. Fun fact, this was me a couple hours before the night of my senior prom!

Farming…

We had a week of intense training up at a Cornell University site, then the corps of about 30 people got split up to different agencies in the county to work for the summer and steward the environment in unique ways. Some got placed at the recycling plant, others to farms, another group were the water quality peeps, and two incredibly hard workers were sent to split rocks and break ground to make new trails on the AT. I was in the largest group of 6 people working on major trail restoration for the county parks, invasive species removal, and water testing. Water testing sounds fancy, but was really just us putting a net in a river and collecting the bugs that live in the water and plopping them in vials to see how healthy the river was.

So the vials were a little smaller than my fist, but I swear on my life one day while we were saining we found a millipede that would barely fit in the jar, and flailed around in the alcohol meant to kill it for 5 minutes!!! In other words, IT WAS REALLY FREAKING BIG AND CREEPY-CRAWLY!

Anyway, that is pretty much what I and my team did for the whole summer, along with many other larger projects with the whole corps. We basically got paid to hike.

The snag was most of the time we had to do either the water testing or the invasive species blocks in hard to get to areas in the county. One Tuesday, we split up to cover all the blocks for the day, and my coworker Tim and I pulled into a street adjacent to a field surrounded by woods to check for invasive species. We were smack dab in the middle of a hasidic community on a regular residential street. For those of you who don’t know what that is, they are a sect of Jewish Orthodox people (like the New York version of Amish, although not entirely the same as I know some very lovely Amish people). They speak Hebrew or Hebrew dialects as their primary language (most speak english, although the kids rarely do), live in massive multi-family houses in very close community with each other, and usually are very distrustful of anyone not hasidic.

So obviously, Tim and I are not hasidic. We parked on the street and gathered our gear to test the woods and the field. On the lawn of one of the houses, we saw a hasidic mother and her daughter. We waved hello, then went into the woods. I literally didn’t think twice about it because after all, we were just doing our job, until I heard a deep voice behind us in the middle of the woods call out, “Hey! What are you doing here?”

Tim and I whipped around and saw three police officers in full gear. I’m talking bulletproof vests, guns and tasers, the works. We stopped, and they came up to us and we tried to explain what were doing. It was not easy; they caught us off guard and made us tongue-tied as we tried to explain that we actually work for two government agencies. One of the officers looked at us and told the others that they could go. We headed out of the woods and explained our situation, and he told us that the woman called the cops when she saw a guy and a girl head into a remote part of the woods that she thought was private property.

Duh…

In retrospect, we probably should have gone up to her and introduced what we were doing, but we thought our clipboards made us look official enough. The cop kind of gave a chuckle at the end of it as he took our names and the number of our boss and let us go. Tim and I looked at each other and gave a nervous laugh. We finished quickly, and I went home after a very stressful day at work.

Looking back, it makes me sad that most hasidic people are a) so distrusting of outsiders and b) do not know how to take care of the environment. And I’m not saying they don’t just recycle. The day we did a cleanup at a lake in their community (the picture of us in the truck), we removed hundreds of garbage bags full of trash from the shore of a lake there. We even got on a boat and went out in the middle and collected more trash. That was a full days work and we barely made a dent.

So the moral of this story, I guess, is pick up your trash and always introduce yourself.

~J

P.S. Garlic Mustard and Wineberries are common invasive species in New York, and I’m sure in many other places, that are both completely edible. Not only will you help the local ecosystems by picking them for consumption, but they are both delicious. They were trail-side snacks we would eat as we did our trail maintenance. Nothing raised the group moral more than stumbling across a Wineberry bush. Garlic Mustard is delicious in pastas. If you ever come across them, try it out! As always, practice safe plant identification techniques before consuming anything wild! 🙂

I hope all of my student friends have been rife with the end stages of the winter break decomposition! I know I have, for the first time in a while, gotten to take full advantage of doing NOTHING while on break. For all my non student friends out there, how is adulthood?

Speaking of adulthood, I just received today my appointment for an interview with Hannaford’s. Weddings in Louisiana do not come cheap, such as the lovely one I will be attending in March, so I will hopefully be getting a part time job at the Gorham location this semester to offset the cost of that (and all my Nav friends who will be going on missions trips this summer that I of course can’t wait to donate to…)

I’m almost willfully determined to not let this job get in the way of any of the plans I had this semester, such as discipleship (or alongsidership as we say, the distinction of which is for another blog post) and doing outreach on campus and the many other happenings of Navs as we gear up for this semester, continuing to train to get my brown belt in martial arts, and hopefully begin the long but worthwhile “last leg” of my college career on a good GPA, I mean, foot.

Well, maybe it’s less of a willful determination and more of a stubborn pride-as many of my friends work part time as well as go to school. 

But enough of those boring life updates! You came here for a story didn’t you?! Do you have your snacks? Do you have your blanket? I love telling stories; I only wish we were around a fire in the middle of the woods…

…

I remember my first pair of cowboy boots as well as anyone remembers their first bike. I got them a few days before I flew out to Colorado for my first summer at Wind River in 2017. Apparently, a cowboy hat for me was flying in a few days later on the head of one of the most amazing people I have ever met, although at the time I didn’t know it yet (spoiler-it was Rebecca Nelson, the sister of Gabrielle, the one who had told me about Wind River!) The boots were up to me, though. I headed out for the closest and most likely place to get cowboy boots in the Northeast…New Jersey.

No, really, that’s where I got them! In college, my mom worked for a shoe store, and now the guy owned a shop in New Jersey. Surely they must have cowboy boots! They, in fact, did carry them, but in only two styles-short and tall. I chose the short pair, a Dingo brand of boots, as they would probably make less of a statement. I was nervous and going for obscurity back then. I almost fell over when I looked at the price-I couldn’t in my wildest imagination conjure up why cowboy boots of all things could be that much. But I forked over the money and started to break them in. After all, I was working at a dude ranch! I did need them…

My first pair of cowboy boots, ready for an adventure to Colorado for the summer of 2017.

Those boots served me well that summer, but once I returned home, they were worse for the wear. I was not up to date (more like not trained in the slightest) in boot care skill. Up until this point in my simple, yankee life, I hadn’t worn anything that required more work than laceless converse sneakers. I recall one time during that summer, I was helping scoop poop in the worst rainstorm I experienced in my two years at the ranch. It was just pouring down buckets of rain (which makes poop very hard to scoop, mind you) and guess what I was in? My feet are comically small, so borrowing someone else’s old pair or the community muck boots really aren’t ever really helpful as the smallest one is always at least two sizes too big for me. I never wanted to get caught in shoes too big in case Don needed me to do my New-York-City-Fastwalk to get him something (i.e. Jenna-I- need-to-you-sprint-for-this-as-fast-as-your-legs-can-carry-you. It was a little joke we shared.)

All this being said, even after four (not kidding) pricey trips to the shoemaker once I was home, the boots did not seem up for another summer at the ranch. I really didn’t mind though, never being one for vanity*. I took with me this time in 2018 a pair of old workboot-like boots that I got for free, hoping that I could save my cowboy boots for square dancing and hootenanny and other non-horse poop/dirt related ranch actives. These workboot boots, however, were not up to the challenge as they were already damaged from the previous spring semester’s activities of demolition and construction (again, not kidding. Hint-transformation project). By the time the first week of Healing Warriors rolled around, there was simply no hiding how bad these boots were. They were not wearable anymore, and I was back to wearing my Dingo boots 24/7 which were not in much better shape.

Just for reference, these were the boots that I broke and tried to repair.

I was in the dining hall trying to piece these back together when one of the volunteers for the ministry/guest that week walked in. She looked at me quite puzzled until I gave up with the super-glue and told her the comical story up until this point. She smiled and left to rejoin Sports Night, where a poorly placed kick of mine to a soccer ball was the last straw for these boots and led to the need for the super-glue.

After the hootenanny the following evening, this saint of a woman took me aside and told me that she wanted to get me new boots. I thanked her, but told her we couldn’t really do that. She said, “I already cleared it with Don, we’re doing it.” She had her mind made up, so I thanked her again and walked away, not really expecting that she was going to follow through with what she said. She, after all, did not know how small my feet were and couldn’t go out and buy them for me for herself, right?

After the video of the week had been played that following night to end the guests time at the ranch, she again came up to me and handed me an envelope. I thanked her again, and wished her and her husband a good rest of the summer. They were awesome people, and volunteered for Wind River in many ways. When I got back to my office that night, I put the envelope down and headed up to bed, exhausted after the full first week of guests. I thought to myself, it’s probably like $50 or something.

The next morning, I went down to eat breakfast and opened the envelope. Inside was $200, given by her and her husband and another couple from the ranch, with a little note saying, For new cowboy boots. I burst into tears and ran off to thank them for what they had done before they left. After about a week and a half, thanks to Don’s wife, Sarah, I was able to go into town and buy my new, durable, pair of Ariat cowboy boots. I was really conflicted about buying them though, I will confess. I felt really uncomfortable spending that much money on myself, and wanted to give it away to missions or something. But all the full-time staff urged me to do as they had written on the note. Don even was on the roof of the staff building one time, although I didn’t know it, and he kept shouting in a low, deep voice, “Jenna, go get new boots!” I thought for sure I was going crazy and had finally cracked, and I made myself dizzy turning every which way trying to figure out if I was hearing the voice of God or someone was being really weird and hiding until I realized that it was Don on the roof calling down to me and laughing.

I never imagined being so blessed by the guests of Wind River. It was my job to go out of my way and bless them, after all! My deepest gratitude will never be enough to those two couples who saw a girl in need and decided to bless her beyond her imagination. I guess  God is like that, though, and they were just acting in obedience to him. I wish so badly that I could tell you who they were and you could join in with me to thank them for what they did, but they probably want to remain anonymous. It probably seemed small to them in the moment, but I love those boots like nothing you could ever imagine

The new boots. Photo creds (as always) to Heather-this was taken at our Student Leaders retreat in August of that summer. Perhaps they are looking wistfully, thinking that Maine sunsets are alright, but Colorado’s are better.

They are the smallest piece of the ranch that I get to take with me wherever I go. (Unlike Gabrielle, I could not bring back a horse. She really did though, ask her about it sometime). I clunk around in them, and they laugh with me at shenanigans the staff and I used to play. They cry with me when I just want to return to a place where things made sense and the days were long and full of possibility. They hold some of the burden of the already overflowing heart of a part-time cowgirl.

I charge you now to think about how you can be the blesser in your surroundings as these people were to me in theirs. Maybe it’s money, maybe it’s time, maybe it’s moral support. But when you go out of your way to look for those who need an act of kindness done for and to them, you probably won’t have to walk far. Hopefully your boots don’t break before then. But even if they do, I think you’ll be alright…

~J

*I would probably retract this statement if I was under oath due to the fact that my friend Ashley has the most gorgeous pair of boots I have ever seen in my life-gray leather with a sewn white flower pattern around the toe and up the sides, and that I would give my right arm for a pair like that in my size. Ashley, if you’re reading this, I’ll take them when your done with them. I’ll just wear a lot of thick socks to make them fit!

It has been a while, my friends! Unfortunately, the dreaded week of exams has come upon me, and I was left with no free time to sit down and write a post. I hate to say it, but these last two weeks really kicked my butt all over the room. However, the last week of classes has passed, and all my projects are finished and almost all of them are turned in. Now, only two final exams and I’m officially more than halfway done with my college career!

Except…one of those tests is the organic chemistry final. Please keep me in your prayers.

The past two weeks have been comprised of saying goodbye to my friends here. I hate that I have to leave for break and miss so much while I’m gone. Staying in touch over the holidays is extra super duper hard. So it is not goodbye forever, but more of a see-you-in-a-month-think-of-me-every-now-and-then type of parting. If you can believe it, two of our Navs staff will be welcoming babies into the world by the time we start the second semester! WOAH!!!

C.P. rocking the crutch teaching at our last Nav night.

My large, loving, and dysfunctional family.

Ok, next…The psychosis of finals week finally cracked on this LONG Saturday. So I kinda went to get my cartilage pierced. I was very productive and finished up a project in the morning, then my friend Beth and I went to Portland in the afternoon and gave it a go! I’ve been wanting to do it for a while now, and today was the perfect opportunity because the place we got them was having a special discount for cartilage piercings! SCORE! It hurts a little if it gets bumped, but I didn’t even come close to fainting, crying, or puking while they shoved a needle in my ear. I didn’t even flinch! I absolutely love it, and am going to wait to see who in my family notices first when I go down in a week.

Yea, I’m pretty cool.

So the semester is wrapping up my friends. I wait with expectant hope that these finals will be over and passed with flying colors, that I will have a restful time of break catching up with my friends from all over the South (still waiting on your call Alex!) and that I will be reading a lot of books and playing the violin on the roof of my parents house.

I charge you in this season of commercialism and business to take a deep breath of air (whether the cold, sharp and thin air of Maine, or the hot and saturated air of those weird places in America that don’t have all four seasons) into your lungs and just be still. May the Lord, mighty God, bless and and keep you forever. Grant you peace, perfect peace, and courage in every endeavor. Lift up your eyes, see His face, and trust His grace forever. May the Lord, mighty God, bless and keep you forever.

May forgiveness and expectant hearts be with you all this holiday season.

~J

P.S. You’re going to want to stick around for these next few weeks of posting. I’m going to be doing something a little different with the posts I write while I am home for the holiday in Florida 😉