First page of the longing archive.

oh, dusk!

Posted by jessica on Sep 18, 2011 with 5 Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
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Dusk has a way of setting the sky on fire.

It’s startling, really.

I like to go outside during that time; it’s when I want to look and look forever. It’s when everything around me feels so beautiful, that the longing I have for more! than! this!  feels met.

For a while, I mean.

I like to talk to God then. I don’t mind that the trees are listening; the trees feel kind at dusk. Like they agree with my dreams. Sometimes I walk by people’s houses. I try not to eavesdrop while they take a load off, enjoying their evening on the back porch with a cigarette and a beer. Sometimes a dog barks at me. And suddenly the bright orange dot of a cigarette waves in the air as I hear, “Stop, Sam!”  The words shoot out, quick and staccato, over and over again, like rapid fire. And I feel sorry for interrupting the backyard peace. I feel sorry that I am causing Sam to get yelled at. So I pick up my pace and the orange dot of the cigarette shrinks to nothing behind me as I go on my way.

I used to feel worse about people smoking than I do now. I mean, I don’t love the smell and I’m not about to start–but I understand a little better when people self-medicate. Or want to feel better. Or try to find comfort. I guess when you’ve hurt a lot, trying to soothe the pain makes some sense. I get it.

I used to feel worse about some things and better about others than I do now.

“How has your view on God changed over the past season of your life?” a very kind and magical lady from Iowa City asked me today.

And I told her that I am not sure, how, exactly my view of God has changed–other than I am more convinced of his kindness now than ever, I would add, now that I am thinking about it–but my view of people has changed. I love to hear them talk, but I care a great deal more about what they go and do. How they live their lives. It’s great if you can talk into a microphone like an auctioneer for Jesus, smooth and fast with shiny words that inspire people to raise their hands and buy whatever it is you’re selling, but are you kind? Loyal? Do you mean what you say? Do you keep your promises?

“I guess I don’t have time for the bull anymore,” I said.

And I think we both agreed that nobody does. That life is messy. That we all matter, and that both pain and joy teach us lessons you never really can walk away with from simply reading a book.

But back to the changing sky tonight.

It was glorious.

And so beautiful; the kind of beauty that makes me say thank you, whispered into the ear of creation itself, I guess.

in which I say absolutely nothing about the 4th of july.

Posted by jessica on Jul 5, 2010 with 10 Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
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Sometimes the summer feels big.

Too big; and here I am, small in comparison.

The days have lengthened and I am not sure that I can stretch that far too. I am not sure that I can keep up. It is nighttime but not bedtime and I start to feel the way I can sometimes feel at parties.

Out of place and sort of like how I felt when I first started singing solos on a stage and without a microphone. Suddenly I was overly aware of my arms and my hands and how I just had no earthly idea what I should do with them. Jazz hands are not always the answer, believe it or not, and there I was–singing about longing for home and man, I must have looked like a girl who had never actually met her own arms before. Or if she had, she sure didn’t remember it because look how they reach so awkwardly when they should hang contentedly! look how they hang when it would actually be appropriate to do a subtle reach this time! It was awkward, definitely awkward.

And yes, the other day I was at a party and there were all these couples and then there was me and I couldn’t help but feel claustrophobic and lonely at once. Which was confusing. Because at first you just want to please. get. away. But then you don’t want to be alone. So what do you do? Go crazy with munching on the carrots, I guess, which is what I did. Try not to think about your own life so much and just ask a lot of questions to whomever is on your right or your left, which seems to work out pretty well too.

But summer.

It feels like a pair of pants that I cannot hope to fill out right now. I need a belt because it just doesn’t fit right. Maybe if I make enough adjustments, I can make it work, but right now that effort seems monumental and man, I’m tired, so very tired.

Please realize that I love the season of summer, I do. It’s just that right now the long days feel too long; the short nights too heavy. I am sure I won’t feel like this at some point, cause don’t our feelings like to trick us into believing that finally, they’ve settled down and decided to just stay put? And oh, you’re feeling pretty down right now? Your heart hurts, you say? Then yep. This is when I decide to stay FOREVER. Love, The Way You Feel About Life. But if I’ve learned anything besides the fact that, as a rule, snapping turtles bite with their mouths, it’s that things change. Life progresses. And this too shall pass.

God doesn’t change, though; I think I’ve learned that, too. Or rather, am continuing to learn it. Again and again and again, with each new revolution that surprises me yet another time. Hahaha you keep getting me, life! You’re a good one!

Seriously, though. You are a good one, life. Most of the time. And then there’s God and he’s a good one all of the time. Which needs to settle in and make my heart less sad, I think.

Which should happen just about…anytime now.