Junichi

My Japanese friend Junichi and I have an interesting story. During his year in the States, Junichi and I both were part of Christian Student Fellowship at the University of Minnesota. Although we both went to Wednesday night Bible study and Sunday night candlelight worship service, I do not think that we talked once until right before he was about to leave.

But that Sunday night, Junichi, a couple others, and I were in a small prayer group together. The details are blurry in my mind, but I do remember that we sat on the wooden floor by the west door and shared prayer requests. Junichi must have felt off; Amber asked if it was because he was about to return to Japan soon. I remember that the atmosphere as we prayed was so full and so loving that I lay my hand on Junichi as I prayed for him. We later discussed what happened that evening and agreed that something special had occurred. In any case, I was now bonded to Junichi, who then returned to Japan.

From time to time, Junichi and I will email, catch up on the other’s life. I love those magical moments of life that – though hazy – you know something incredible is happening, and you are a witness. Dimmed lights, wooden floor, a heart frantic and caught between two countries, and the Holy Spirit among us.

Oh the letters

I love letters. AEIOU. I like vowels, but I suppose if they were people, they would be cocky. The jocks or cheerleaders. What about P? I think P would be a quiet girl who wears glasses and reads lots of books. She would be intimidated by the vowel clique. H would be an overweight boy. F is immature, short, and insecure, telling P and H, “It takes both of you to do what I do alone.” I bet R, S, and T would hang out with the vowels; they are pretty popular letters if you think about it. S’s are vowel groupies. Y is unsure, a girl in puberty, without a solid identity yet. She fits with the vowels – but only sometimes. V is the metro boy who wears tight pants and is a mystery. Even the vowels would be secretly jealous of V. V, you must know that you’re distinctive, above the others. Go write your poetry, your song lyrics, a love song for a beautiful girl. Remain a mystery to the others, but share yourself with her.

mail vs. voicemail

One of life’s joys: getting the mail. It is something I look forward to every day (well, except for Sunday ... Sundays a little disappointment passes through me each time I realize there is no mail delivered that day. Not getting the mail is one of the worst parts of holidays.). When I pull into my apartment’s parking lot, I think, “Ah ha! The mail!” and I get this little thrill, a slight rush. Who knows what could be coming in the mail? Books and earrings and other purchases, letters from my three Compassion kiddos, rewards from my credit card. I buy things online and then feel even MORE excited to get the mail. Sometimes I decide to track the packages online, and sometimes I just let myself be surprise, almost hoping that I will forget that I ordered anything and then, “Oh wow! A package in the mail!” like an unexpected kiss on the cheek.

I have a friend who abhors getting the mail. He feels the way about the mailbox the way I feel about voicemail: stressed, apprehensive, certain that it will be full of bad news or rejection. He checks his mailbox about once every other week. I am trying to be better, but I sometimes save up a month’s worth of voicemails before listening. Isn’t it bizarre how people react so differently to the same situations? I greet the postman like he is sunshine on my face; my friend regards him as the Grim Reaper. My friend loves voicemail and listens immediately, eager for whatever message a friend has left. I am certain that I’ve been fired or have done something wrong, hurt someone’s feelings, that someone I know is in the hospital or needs a favor that I really don't want to help with. Lots of my friends don’t leave me voicemails anymore. I’m glad.

Send me a letter. :-)

i'm off to a ... um, bad ... start

I started off this morning by oversleeping.

I leave for work at 7:45, and I woke up at 7:35. Whoops.

Nevertheless, I still made it to work by 8:05. Sigh.

Then the day went CRAZY. First of all, I got a promotion (not today, just recently) which means I am in charge of hiring and training, and we had our new hire start today. Since I have been in Chicago at a work conference Wed-Fri of last week, I had zippo prepared for him. Great. Awesome.

Then there was a drop in in the afternoon. I spazzed and said I was too busy to take it. My co-worker's eyes got really big and filled with fear, so I had to explain that I wasn't yelling at her, just very overwhelmed. She gave the appointment away.

Then someone else dropped in. And needed a tour. And since everyone else was doing appointments, yours truly gave the tour. My co-worker came back to my cubicle to ask, and she very obviously did not want to ... I think she thought I might explode on her or something.

(For all those interested ... I did not. I smiled kindly at my terrified colleague and said, "No problem." Aren't I so sweet?)

Then I gave a tour. Then I came back and worked an extra hour and a half.

I sound like such a whiner. I shouldn't even post this blog. Well, I'm going to anyway, but let me spin it here at the end to reflect the good news of life.

I love my job. I love my co-workers (even when I go ballistic on them). I love the teenagers and families I serve. I am super blessed. And goodness gracious, I got a promotion! That's pretty sweet too. And ... when you think about it ... I even got extra sleep this morning and no harm done.

In addition to all that good stuff, I bought a bunch of stuff online last week and it just came in. I ADORE THE MAIL.

And even better ... I am covered in Messiah-blood and am seen by God through that lens.

little bit lost but mostly found

first of all, i got a haircut today:secondly, what do i mean by the title of my blog?

I have felt depressed for a couple of days ...

and I have felt sad and lonely and dumb and unproductive and unexcited and tired and angry and ugly and listless and annoyed and not creative.

BUT

I have felt loved by God

and JOYFUL.

If you're a believer, you know what I mean. If you're not, this post won't make any sense to you, but you should still ask me about it.

Loved by and in love with my Savior,

jackie lea

characters

I love the characters in my book. I want them to be real people.

You know how you were in high school and you fell in love with Gilbert Blythe?

Wait, that happened if you are my age ... if you are younger: remember when you were in high school and you fell in love with Edward Cullen? :-)

I want to play soccer with Rudy Steiner. I want to have a long discussion about redemption with Edmund Pevensie. I want to discuss OCD with Sam from Kissing Doorknobs. I want to listen to Stargirl's winning speech "I Might Have Heard a Moa." I want to reminisce with Molly and Schmendrick. I want to babysit Harry and Ginny's children.

On a non-fiction note, I posted "Why are we not dating yet?" on Donald Miller's Facebook wall the other day. For real. No response. He doesn't know what he is missing out on.

ramblings

I guess I will just write about whatever comes into my head at this point. I am thinking a little bit about color and about beauty, but that’s seems drastically whimsical and even annoying. I do believe that there are real, weighty, important statements yet to be made about color, but I’m not sure that I’m the one to make them or that tonight is that night. It is interesting to listen to writers talk about words, and in the same way, to artists talk about color. I have a new friend named Will who is an artist, and when he talks about color, I know that he has a relationship with color the same way that I have a relationship with words. They are our territories; they are our joys.

Words, to me, are possibilities. I think of all the many ways that words can line up, like a puzzle that has an infinite number of solutions, and about the way that particular words in particular orders can create a light or dark tone, the way background music makes a scary movie even scarier. A writer’s job is to align the words to her desire—whether that is in the most pleasurable way, or the most disturbing, or the most endearing.

Today I met with a prospective student who said that she liked to write. I immediately got excited (as I always do) and took a break from discussing the college search and possible majors to discuss what truly interests me – what kind of writing does she like to do, what are some of her favorite books, favorite authors? When I taught a class at camp last week, I asked the campers to introduce themselves and to share what they were passionate about. When someone would say, “books,” or “reading,” I wanted to pause the entire class to have conversations about our mutual friends – Lucy and Edmund, Harry and Hermione, Liesel and Rudy and Max.

I know that there are some people who read a book once and then the book is over for them—they cannot enjoy it again because they already know what happens. I feel sorry for those people. I love to re-read favorite books. It is like spending time with an old friend, reminiscing. It is, of course, wonderful to discover new favorites, to be on the edge of one’s seat, not knowing what is coming next, but I find that I get so into old favorites that I end up on the edge of my seat anyway. I am stressed literally every time I relive the end of Prisoner of Azkaban. It’s a little ridiculous, but I wouldn’t change it. I experience books. Sometimes something lovely will jump up off the page and tap me on the shoulder, and I have to stand and admire it for awhile. I hope that, in time, my own writing will wave to people from the page, will make them stop and stare.

back in the saddle

I have not written in several weeks, so I’m pretty sure that anything I write tonight and for the next week will be fairly terrible, although I’ve been known to stumble into brilliance accidentally. That’s always fun. When you’re tired and cranky and want to sleep and feel like you’d just as well wipe your butt with printer paper and publish that instead of the words you’ve been hammering out for a couple years, and then instead of cashing it all in, you decide to write for ten more minutes and something beautiful lands on the page. It stares at you, blinking a few times like a young doe or a cartoon puppy, and you can hardly believe that it belongs to you and that it’s resting there on your page. It’s like the most wonderful thieving, when something ends up on the page that you never intended, something that you just stumbled into, but since you’ve found it, and since your hands happened to be the ones touching the keys at the time, you get to claim it as your own.

next week

I am headed up to Long Lake for a week at Pine Haven Christian Assembly to spend time with a crew of senior highers. My dearest friend Jesus, being so wonderfully omnipresent, will be up there as well. It works out great, you see.

I'm teaching a class this week on evangelism. I wouldn't mind your prayers. Not just for my class, but for the Holy Spirit to move this week and to shake these kids up in real and lasting ways. Pray that I can be a conduit of God's love and that I will have the energy to keep up with the campers! Pray that the kiddos come ready to listen to God.

Pray that I would be able to carve time out of the busy camp schedule to be energized by Scripture and time alone with Jesus.

I'm sure I'll have some fun pictures to post when I come back!

Sometimes it is overwhelming to love so much.

If I were crazy about just one thing, I could pour myself into that and that alone. I could hone my skills and dedicate my time to it.

But I like so many things. I feel a little spread thin.

THE NOVEL
There's the book to think about ... think about, work on, discuss with Anna, write another scene. I wish that I could spend more time with it, to be honest. If you were to ask me what I've been up to, THIS is what I have been up to. I have random moments where I'll suddenly think, "Toast. This scene needs to have toast in it." Then I will have to go find that scene and somehow manuever some peanut butter toast into the mix. It's kind of strange, I know. I talk about my characters and their struggles with my roommate, and I keep my ears tuned for anything funny that my co-workers say at work that could somehow wriggle itself into the text.

MY FRIENDS
I haven't even been a very good friend lately. I've been so focused on the book. But I know and love so many people, and I feel like I need to keep those plates spinning.

YOUTH GROUP
I love my small group. LOVE. Those girls are such a blessing to me. Still, I always need to be thinking about our next meeting. Thank goodness I've had so much help this semester with wonderful guest speakers (Kristin, Jessica, Dora, Tracy, and--tomorrow--Eir)!!

WORK
Always something going on with work. And often, it's not just a little something, but a biggish something -- like preparing a message to share with a youth group or school chapel. Right now I get a little break from those things, but I'm taking on some new responsibilities too, so ... busy busy.

CAMP
I am attempting to prepare a class worthy of the senior highers who will sit through it. I have seven pages of curriculum and eleven books checked out about Luke 15 and Jesus' parables. This is probably my most stressful thing currently.

BOOKS
There's so much I want to read! I am in the middle of Order of the Phoenix, Devil in the Details (about OCD), Irresistible Revolution (getting put on the backburner since it stirs me up), and Run with Horses. I have nine things requested at the library right now.

TRAVEL
I am driving four hours down to Sioux City, IA, for Danae's wedding on Saturday--and four hours back the same day! I decided just to hammer it out. I've also just purchased tickets to fly to PA to see Megs and Jordan for a few days. I had imagined that this visit would take place after camp--and thus, my class would be over with--but instead it's right before, so I have the added stress of needed to prepare for camp and my class while I'm on vacation.

BIBLE STUDY
I'm a part a community group with some other members of Trinity City Church's launch team. This doesn't take too much time or effort, but it's just another thing added to the stew. A terrific thing, and I am LOVING it. Plus we meet at the Lairs, so ... sweet babies too!! :-)

Blah, you all probably just thinking I'm a whiner. Maybe I am. It's wonderful, though, loving so many things. I just feel very stretched. I would love to take a month and just read-read-read all the wonderful things that I am interested in. But then I would miss my book. I want to write-write-write and focus on nothing else for awhile, but then I would miss my friends. I want to be a good friend, but if I don't have any alone time I will go mad. So, you see, it just kind of needs to be a balancing act.

But I do feel grateful. God, what a life You've blessed me with!

right now

I am sitting in my living room, on my couch, and in the room are two other people:

Des, a high school math teacher,

and

Matt, a high school math teacher.

So ... yeah. I will give you snippets of the conversation:

"Geometry ... Algebra Two ... double dose ... Trig ... Pre-Calc ... 'Alex, don't choke another student' ... failing miserably ... getting A's ... normal ed kids in a special ed classroom ... grade easy ... I am sexually attracted to numbers."

Ok, so not the last thing. Made that one up. But math teachers, I tell ya. I kind of want to ask a question like, "So what do you think of Goldbach's Conjecture?" or "What is a factorial exactly?" just to see where the conversation goes. I wonder if they'd like to watch an episode of NUM3RS with me.

I love the way Des' mind works. She was listening to Supertones lyrics: "My thoughts are like a circle with Jesus in the middle." She started to think about it geometrically, like with concentric planes or something like that. Now that is funny.

Matt just said, "Ooooh ... trig identities! I LOVE trig identities!"

I want to roll around on the floor laughing.

They would probably feel the same way if they listened to me with my writing friends. "Similes ... metaphors!! Imagery!!" We are big nerds too. I just want to clarify that I know that, so don't anyone get mad at me for teasing math nerds. I am an English geeks. It's all good.

***this is much later*** Now they are having a math argument ... something about elimination and combining like terms, and there is laughter resting right on top of my stomach, threatening to escape, and I think I'm just going to let it out. Kay, that's all.

picky typing

I starting writing seriously in high school, and even though all my poems were terrible and immature and image-less and revolved entirely around my future romance with Zac Hanson, no one else around me was writing anything better. When I was in tenth grade, the high school got internet access, and every student was given an email address. Since email was an entirely new concept to all of us (and to the rest of the world), we emailed each other. That is, other students in the high school. While they were sitting in the same computer lab. “Hey Terri!” I would yell to the back of the lab until she looked up. “Go check your email! I just wrote to you!” “Okay!” she’d holler back. We were too fascinated with this new way of passing notes to recognize the irony.

One study hall, with a pass to the lab, I was emailing Terri, who sat beside me, probably emailing me. I wrote:

Hey Terri,
We should probably look into the cost of renting an RV for our big roadtrrip.

I caught the extra r right away, but as I moved my pinkie to backspace to the offending letter, something struck me. I was going to delete the i and the p as well—and they hadn’t done anything wrong. They didn’t deserve to be deleted in such a quick, thoughtless manner—I mean, just because there was an extra, useless r in the word didn’t mean that I had to get rid of the original i and p as well. They were serving their purposes just fine, and there was no need to—in a sense—fire and replace them when they were in the right spots, doing the right things.
Instead of backspacing, I reached for my mouse, moved the cursor to highlight the second r (the first one had the most right to be there as it had gotten there first) and then deleted just that letter.

Sure, it had taken five or six seconds instead of one or two, but wasn’t it worth the extra time to see justice done?

This is the life of an obsessive-compulsive. Thankfully, this is one of the quirky, funny things and not one of the painful, hurtful things.

draft

EXPRESS HEALING

“When things start going better, they continue to go better.”
Dr. Kim Je Lee

“When things go wrong, you'll find they usually go on getting worse for some time;
but when things once start going right they often go on getting better and better.”
C.S. Lewis

If the doctor and the scholar are correct, then I am in for a good ride.
Today OCD is less than a pin-prick in my flesh.
Tomorrow I do not even think its name.
Next week I am liberated of all medication.
A month from now I begin my national tour of public speaking:
“My Life as a Free Woman: Living OCD-Free.”

Within a year, I am married to a man in ministry/part-time model,
editors plead for my poems, and my size two blue jeans are loose.
In the evening, after I set aside my notebook of brilliance,
I turn to my charming husband, and I say, tentatively,
“There was a time in my life when I used to have troubles.”

Then we laugh—because what does that even mean?
Tomorrow we are throwing a party for all our closest friends,
and we cannot be bothered with memories
of by-gone days that did not love us
as we are loved now.

a letter to my alone time

Dear, dear alone time ...

How I have missed you this weekend! While I thoroughly enjoyed the company I kept this weekend in a large northern Minnesota cabin, I definitely missed you. I missed our times together, spent reading or writing or just chilling out max, relaxing all cool. That said, I'm very excited for our time together this week! See you SOON!

Love,
Jackie

hello facebook?

I am wondering if my blog will now be imported to Facebook. Watch out, world.

it's nice to be sure of something

When I realized that my favorite color was red, I wanted to make it a national holiday. You see, so many things in my life are so often unclear, so when something certain occurs in my life, I want to throw a parade. I wanted to hire a big band that would play the blues, only in a sassy, feverish way, and we would call them “the reds.” I wanted to break out my old high school trumpet and play a fanfare, calling all attention to myself for my big announcement: “Red. It’s my favorite.” I wanted to buy red dresses, make red art, take color crayons and find the perfect shade of scarlet and then carry it around in my purse. Whenever I could fill out an “about me” section online, I would write, “I am Jackie Lea, and my favorite color is red.” I wanted to have a “Red is My Favorite Color” party. I was absolutely thrilled to know something with certainty, to have no doubt. Blue had once won me over, and yellow was still important to me, but somewhere along the way, red stepped to the front of the line. When I looked up and noticed that it was on the winner’s podium, I stood to my feet with raging applause. “Let’s go around the room and say something interesting about ourselves.” “Okay, me first. I’m Jackie, and my favorite color is RED-RED-RED!”

posty posterson

Just trying to get back into the swing of things, into the habit of posting.

My friend Tracy is at 40 weeks in her pregnancy, and I'm the on-call babysitter for their 2-year-old Emma if Trace goes into labor ... I'm so excited! I can't wait for Lair Baby to come join us.

It's really so strange how I'm at such a different stage of life right now than many of my friends. Many are married, having children, living a very different life than I lead. And I like mine. I do. And I love that I get to love their sweet babies.

I don't know. It's just weird. My friends have been married for years and years, and I'm nowhere near it. (Or am I ... Lord? :-) ) Oh well. I'm writing a book. They are popping out babies and I have a baby of my own. They measure in inches, and I measure in pages. :-)

I'll be done now.

there once was a boy

whom i loved.

but he did not love me back, only a little bit.

just the tiniest bit to make me keep hoping.

one day i got sick of it.

i told him that i would always care about him, but i couldn't chase the friendship anymore.

the end of our friendship was very civil.

here is the saddest part of that story:

i still miss him.

draft

“Have you ever been to a tenebrae service?”
“Like around Good Friday? Yeah, I went to one at my church last year.”
“Tenebrae is Latin for ‘shadows’ or ‘darkness.’ What was your service like?”
“Well, seven votives were lit on the stage, and after each one of the seven last statements of Christ on the cross was read, one light was extinguished until we all stood in the dark there in the sanctuary and sang a hymn.”
“Imagine the darkness of that original Good Friday,” she said. “Think about it. Imagine being a Christ-follower standing there beneath the cross on the very day He died. This Man who had made such mighty promises is nailed to a tree and is dead. If I were there, I think I would weep at the base of that cross until my tears dried up and I simply sat in shock, staring at a dead body, hanging limp. Should I go home? Should I stay? What is the use of anything now? How will I readjust to life without purpose?”
“You’d feel like you lived a day too long, and now there is nothing for you,” I said.
“Exactly,” said Judy. “I bet those early Christians—in the interim darkness between the cross and the resurrection—could understand your misery.”
I waited. I was missing the point.
“On Sunday morning, Christ rose from the dead and conquered death!” she said. “Victory was just around the corner.”
“Oh.”
“The cross—that looked like the end of all hope that Good Friday—is now the symbol of hope for Christians today. We rejoice over the cross.”

trust

Over the past several months, some of the craziest/worst/stressful times have -- looking back -- been such lovely opportunities to trust Christ. I, of course, try to trust Him at all times, but as Scripture says, His strength is made perfect in my WEAKNESS. I am grateful that with Jesus, hard times can still be sweet.



Every August, I used to go to the Valleyfair amusement park in Shakopee and spend the day with camp friends. I remember one year (right before college, maybe?) when I finally decided to go on the Power Tower.

The Power Tower is a vertical thrill ride where riders are raised 250 feet into the air and then are plunged into a freefall at about 50 mph. You experience at least three seconds of weightlessness.


I was absolutely terrified and -- to be honest -- not quite sure how my friends had suckered me into this. Now, I'm not a coward, but I don't do always do so well with anticipation. I am scared of giant roller coasters not because of the tremendous drop but because of the long, slow, clicking climb to the top. There is too much anticipation. (Why can't roller coasters just start at the top? I seem to remember the Six Flags roller coasters doing this -- what a smart idea!) So the idea of getting strapped into a ride that would slowly raise you VERTICALLY up 250 feet into the air with the ONLY "reward" being that I could leave my stomach far behind ... well, it wasn't my favorite part of the day.


So, you take off your shoes and sit on this black plastic slat jutting out from the machine and get harnessed in, and then you're off. The slow, killer ride to the top.


I remember sitting at the top of the Power Tower, looking out over Valleyfair as the sun was setting, and the best way to describe how I was feeling at that moment was


SHEER TERROR.


But it was up there at the ride paused for what seemed like MINUTES, with the "fatal" drop looming ahead (or beneath!) me, I realized, God, I need You to get me through this. I need YOU to sustain me. I was surrounded by friends, but I felt it was just me and God up there on the top of the Power Tower. Me, glutted with anticipation and fear, and God -- and the knowledge that I had nothing to lean on but Him.


Meh, it probably sounds like a silly experience to you. I'm not sure how to describe it in a way that really captures how I felt at that moment, but I have never forgotten those stolen moments with my Savior up in the Shakopee sky. I guess that my point is that hard times can make us lean into God in ways that we just naturally DON'T when life is peachy. Hard times can really be so sweet.


These past few months have given me some hard-but-sweet opportunities to rely on Christ. They're incredibly uncomfortable, but it is such a lovely thing to be held by my Savior.

i am a terrible blogger.

maybe if I knew that people were following my blog, i would blog with more consistency.

so's you knows ... i've been working on the novel a lot lately. every day, actually. it feels good to be consistent. i'm reminded often of how much work is left on the book. i go from feeling wildly excited ("I wrote a BOOK!") to very overwhelmed ("...and it is not accomplishing all I want"), but it drives me to prayer ("Lord, make it all that YOU want!"), so that is a good thing. The entire process over the last two years has been intertwined with my relationship with Christ. my hope is that the final product (someday in the far away future) will honor Him-- that it will be something that He and I have written together, something that makes Him happy.

it has a long way to go.

currently reading: Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne (thoughts, anyone?) and Running with Horses by Eugene Peterson and The Last Unicorn by Peter Beagle.

just finished: Goblet of Fire (relax, it's only my second time through the series!) and Imperfect Birds by Anne Lamott.

next up: Crazy Love by Francis Chan. It's been pretty hyped up to me, so we'll see how it goes!

i miss people. i miss camp people. i miss the shadow of a boy.

i wish i had more time. Jesus, make me productive in the 24 hours You grant me each day.

i love my small group.

ana, anika, arianna, nicole, tiff, jessica, lauren, brookie, gabi. they are precious. i love love love them! they are sophomores, juniors, and (one) senior in high school, and i meet with them on thursday nights, and we have a ball. love it.

decisions

I am a writer. I have been saying so lately, with confidence. "I'm a recruiter--and a writer." It feels good to be able to boldly label myself.

Let me show you something:
1) I write with quite a lot of consistency. I write most days.
2) I am loving the process of writing a novel. LOVING IT.
3) When I hang out with friends, I want to schedule writing dates.
4) I have been drawing the line, telling acquaintances "no" when they ask for certain favors. This might seem kind of cruel, but it makes me feel devoted actually.
5) I turned down an opportunity to help host the NWC spring variety show (which would have been SO FUN!) because I want more time to write.
6) I turned down an opportunity to be the primary speaker for a week of CAMP because I knew that the amount of prep work would take me away from my novel.
7) I turned down an opportunity to lead a week of morning devos/experiential worship for the same reason as above.

In other words, writing is a priority to me.

Many nights I pray about my novel, the writing process, etc., and I often find myself thanking God for making me a writer. It's interesting because--well--if I wasn't a writer, I guess I'd never know the difference. But I am and I do. The other night I prayed that I delight in words but that I also delight IN THAT DELIGHT.

I am blessed. I am a writer.

And so long as the world hasn't seen my manuscript yet, I can say that with confidence. :-)

i'm honored.

I was asked to be the keynote speaker for a week of camp.

But that's a big deal ... and a TON of prep work ... five messages!

And I'm VERY busy working on a novel.

Thoughts, anyone?

oh my goodness, i'm in love.

this is emeline grace, the daughter of my college roommate tracy.

she's two and AMAZING.

don't you just love this picture?? me too.

i have long hair again, in case you didn't know.

blonde too.

i wonder

what makes me think that I will succeed at blogging this time around?

I consistently blog for awhile and then lose interest ... I'm guessing that that will happen all over again.

Today's thought: I love my co-workers. We laugh so much in my office! Today Brian, Jessica, and I pranked one of our student workers, who was answering the visit office phone. We almost made her cry, but even she thought it was funny once she knew it was us! (Sorry Brenda!)

Tomorrow ... who knows?

Love,
jackie lea

ash wednesday

I went to my first Ash Wednesday service tonight. We did the whole ashes-on-the-forehead-in-the-shape-of-the-cross thing, and I thought two things:

1) This is probably the most cult-like thing I've done in a long time.
2) I love these visual reminders in Christianity. From dust I have come and to dust I shall return.

Love,
jackie lea

i haven't blogged for about a year now ...

but what if I started again? Would anyone read it?

Life lately:

Writing like crazy! It's been nearly two years working on my novel, and it is coming along, although there is still a long ways to go!

Trinity City Church ... I am on the launch team of an Evangelical Free church plant in St. Paul.

North Haven Student Ministries ... I have a small (but growing!) group of girls whom I meet with on Thursday nights.

Northwestern ... still enjoying admissions. Love my co-workers and the high schoolers and the college students, all.

Jesus ... always amazing. Yesterday, I was singing "Jesus, Lover of my Soul" and thinking about how incredible it is that the Holy and Almighty God loves my soul ... wow.

What else, what else? After a blogging hiatus of a year, there is much to be said. But we'll leave it at that and see who still follows this blog.

Comment if you read this!
Love,
jackie lea