dun dun duh duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhh...

So this is what I did on Friday:

My sly little boyfriend took me on a surprise date to Central Park. He bought me some beautiful little daisies and brought his camera (cause he's a photographer and loves what he does). We frolicked around the park for a while and took photos and it was so fun.

Then we stopped at this little boat rental place and he rented a little row boat (!!!) so that we could paddle across the lake and be so cute (do you know what's coming yet? cause I sure didn't). He paddled us over to the big tree and then started making a big deal about all of the animals..."Hey Jess, look at that turtle way over there"..."Hey look at that Kookaburra up in that tree." I'm like "Where?!?"

I look down at Stephen and he is holding both of my hands and looking at me in a way he's never quite looked at me before. He starts telling me how much he loves me and that he wants to spend the rest of his life with me. And then he slips this guy on my left ring finger:

It is so pretty.

Oh yeah, I said yes.

p.s. Kookaburras only live in Australia.

I love you Stephen!!! Thanks for picking me!!!!

another post on being white.

I must share this little experience with you. A few days ago, my roommate and I walked up to 145th to get some fish and chips. (One more thing I love about Harlem - THE FOOD. There are fried things and sweet tea. It's like being back in the South.)

Anyway. We got our fried deliciousness and took it to a nearby park. We were sitting on a bench next to this black guy and a couple of black ladies. (It's important that they're black. Just wait.)

So I'm talking with the roomie, catching up on our day and such, when the guy next to us looks at us, then our food, then back to us, and says this:

"I didn't know white people ate fried food."


>insert immense internal laughter here<

"Well, yes sir, we do. Especially us white folks from the south."

Then (and this is the best part) the lady he was chatting with, completely appalled, says, "You can't talk to her like that. You're supposed to say 'Caucasian.' Leave the nice lady alone."

>insert even more laughter here<

"It's really ok," I assured her. "I know I'm white."

p.s. this is only temporary

The world and it's desires will pass away, but the man who does the will of God will live forever. -1 John 2:17

which basically means GET OVER IT.

Whew, I feel better now.

This is one of the first things about following Jesus that stuck with me. None of the things we have now (including our problems, hurts, wants, desires, etc) are coming with us when we die. In the big scheme of things, it doesn't hold a great deal of value. Of course, that means nothing to us now, when all we know is what we feel and see and hear and taste.

Part of me is so excited about leaving this place. Is it morbid to say that? I mean, I just can't wait to know what it feels like to not worry about whether or not I'm gonna marry the perfect guy or have the perfect house or wear the cutest clothes. But then again, how awesome would this life be right now if I didn't worry about that stuff anyway?

Maybe a little bit of heaven really is possible right here, right now.

Anyway, just thought I'd share. It kind of takes the pressure off when you realize that all of this will be gone soon, so why worry about it? All we were really made to do is 1) be together and 2) love. Nothing else really matters.

p.s.s. this blog template is also only temporary. i'm trying to make it more "me" so i want to do it from scratch. wasn't loving my face in the header, so i put this up for a bit. as soon as i find the time to create something interesting, i'll be sure to show you.

i'm not too worried about it though :)

Love,
Jessi

in a different place.

I moved on Thursday. (p.s. I'm totally over this whole moving thing. Twice in one year is bad for the soul methinks.)

Anyway, it has been a bit of an eye opener for me. I think I realized for the first time that I'm white. Is that weird? Maybe it's because I grew up in a small town in south Alabama and went to an all-white high school and mostly-white college, but I've never really been "white" before. Or at least, I've never really had to think about it.

I'm now living in a place where I am most definitely in the minority, and it's weird. I hate to say that, but it's true. I know that race doesn't matter in the big scheme of things - I mean, we all bleed red and all that, but there is still this unfamiliarity I have with other cultures and races that makes being in the minority a little strange for me. Is it ok for me to say that out loud?

I think I like it though. I think I need this. I think everyone needs to get out of their comfort zone every once in a while. You know why? Because maybe (as I think the case is here) your comfort zone might actually be hindering you from the kind of life you deserve to live.

God created a multicolored family for a reason. I think He wants to show me. I mean, why else would he bring me from Magnolia Springs, Alabama to Harlem? I intend to find out.

p.s. If God is taking you out of your comfort zone, I'd love to hear about it. It's way easier to do this when I have company :)

Love,
Jessi

i think that maybe i'm crazy.

I've been thinking a lot about my trip to Africa, trying to decide what exactly it meant to me. And somehow, I only came up with one incredibly surprising thing.

I am proud to be an American.

I know, I'm crazy. I go to Africa and I get all Lee Greenwood on you. But for all the things America stands for that I loathe (i.e. greed, selfishness, obesity, sloth - basically a majority of the 7 Deadly Sins), I truly am blessed to live here.

For one thing, I can have this blog and say whatever I want on it without the fear of someone hunting me down and cutting off my fingers. Seriously, some people don't have that "luxury". I can vote for whoever I want, again without fear of dismemberment. I can believe what I want, say what I want, learn what I want, do what I want, as long as it doesn't kill anybody.

And there are people who died to make that happen. There are people today still making tough choices to ensure that it stays that way. I don't always agree with those choices, but I have to believe that over all, whoever is in charge is doing the right thing, and that ultimately the Lord is in control. And that He put me in the United States of America for a reason.

Why I realized this in Kenya is a little difficult to explain. Obviously, the stark contrast to our freedoms here was a bit overwhelming. I get pissed here if my water smells too much of the chemicals that make it clean. Kenyan children walk up to 20 miles a day to get semi-clean-ish water. You think unemployment here is bad? Try 40% in Kenya. And violence? There are between 250,000-400,000 internally displaced people STILL living in tents in the Rift Valley after the election in 2007. (By the way, that range means they really have NO IDEA how many are out there.)

I never have to worry about that. But what I do have to worry about is why I don't have to worry about it. Is there a reason the good Lord (who really is good, by the way) put me here and not there? I think there is. I think we are blessed so that we can bless others. That is the only thing I can think of. That is what we are here for. And oh my, if Americans really lived up to what they are here for, the world would seriously be a better place. We can make the world a better place.

And I think we are trying. America sends billions and billions of dollars to third world countries. I think Bush sent 48 billion to Africa alone. Not to mention all of our philanthropists and missionaries who send not only money, but people and time, one of America's most beloved resources.

I won't keep going, but suffice it to say that as wicked as America and Americans can be, there is so much good here that we cannot overlook nor take for granted. We have one of the most organized governments in the world - so much so that a pothole doesn't even go unnoticed. A pothole. Have you ever driven in Africa??

Exhibit A.


Fixing a flat tire. This happens quite often.

I would love to hear your thoughts on this - especially from you non-Americans out there...what is your view on America vs. the "third world"? Are we "here" and others "there" for a reason?

and I'm back.

It is so hard to answer the questions, "So how was your trip to Africa?" The right words never seem to come. Hence, I'm not going to use any words for the time being. For now I will leave you with some photos that hopefully do justice to the wonder that is Africa, and the beauty of the people we were blessed to encounter. In the meantime I'll try and make my brain come up with words that will suffice...



















Photos by Stephen DeVries of Bedouins International.

Read some awesome stories and see more photos on the Bedouins Blog. Personal experiences coming soon!

Love,
Jessi

away i go...

So, the time has finally come: my first trip to the great continent of Africa! I am looking forward to an amazing adventure with this guy and with an amazing group of people who started the Kiini Sustainable Initiative. I'm going with Bedouins International to help capture and share their amazing story. (More project details are in last month's newsletter.) (Sorry for all the links, but I think it's better for you to go and read what they have to say rather than me try and cram it all together in one little blog post.)

I am so excited about this oppotunity. It's really gonna help them, you know? Media and marketing are so expensive to those who have a good story to tell, yet for some reason it comes totally free if disaster happens or some crazy monster kills thousands of people. I hate that. It's not right. Anyway, we're trying to change that. We want you to know about some good stuff too. Follow the Bedouins blog to keep up with our story in Kenya, and I'll be back May 7th to share some of my own experiences with you!

Keep growing,

Jessi

To all who are weary...

It might mean you have an iron deficiency. Yep. Too little hemoglobin. And did you know that you can't donate your blood if your hemoglobin is too low? Yep. You can't. I was bummed because I really wanted to save someone's life today.  I mean sure, I was a little terrified with the whole "let me suck your blood out" thing. A bit vampiric, yes. But it could save someone's life. How cool is that?

Then the nurse handed me a sheet of paper talking about why my hemoglobin might be so low (it basically told me I needed to eat better - Ramen Noodles do not give me the Iron I need) so that I could be prepared for next time. Now I know that I need to eat green leafy veggies, eggs and more meat. I am prepared for next time.

I wish life was that easy. I wish I could just eat some Popeye spinach and feel strong enough to face the world and fight off the bad guys. But I get tired. Sometimes everything hurts and I just want to stay in bed all. day. long. And it isn't an easy choice to get out of bed in the mornings. It's never easy to do something you don't want to do - even if it might save someone's life.


Paul actually wrote a letter to the Galatians back in the day about this exact matter. He said: Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.


I think they must have been getting tired too. And probably not because of an iron deficiency (though that may have been a component...) but because it wears you out to be good all the time. Because being good isn't just about giving a little blood - it is about giving everything you have. And it is tiring and painful and sometimes it breaks your heart. But it is worth it. Or at least, it will be.

That's what we're told anyway. And sweet Jesus I am trusting you to be faithful to that. Because I cannot do this whole "life" thing by myself. But what I can do is prepare myself for what is to come. I will eat my vegetables and poultry and hope that one day I am ready to save someone's life. If only I do not give up.

Photo Credit: Stephen DeVries

Love,
Jessi