Love/[like].

I "Love" a lot of things.

The word is used a lot in our culture to express a wide gradient of emotion. I Love my husband. Playing music. Coffee. Listening to records (Cat Stevens is on right now). Walking in the woods. Nature. One on one time with a good friend. Our church. Teaching. Girl time. My best friends. People in general. Fashion trends. Accessorizing. A clean apartment (this is hard-won for me. cleaning is not part of this list, just the results of it.). Writing. Reading. Cooking. Trying new food. Wine. Fancy cheese. Seeing live shows. Helping people. Speaking. Art. Organizing. Learning. Singing in just the right room. Spring. The tiny blue flowers that peek out through the grass when spring comes. Cats. Most animals. Napping. Laughing. Movies. Finding new bands to listen to.

I do NOT Love quitting things.  After a high school life of doing every extracurricular and class possible ("It looks great on college applications!"), the same approach was not quite working in college.  I had to start to pick and choose which activities I gave myself to, and it felt like I was ripping myself into pieces.  Journalistic and creative writing took a backseat for other endeavors.  Theatre and ministry were often at odds.  I couldn't bring myself to willingly leave many activities, but would breathe secret sighs of relief when doors naturally closed and I could push my bedtime up to 2:00 am instead of 3:00.  I thanked heaven when we got word that there would be no musical my senior year - saying "I can't, I have rehearsal" could finally be put to rest.  I built up the wherewithal to quit the honors program that year, realizing the price of having another insane semester of barely seeing the people I cared about wasn't worth it.  (My poor dad still hasn't gotten over this...)  So, I gradually learned I didn't have to be the best at everything and do everything I liked all the time to be a whole person.

I spent my twenties being Busy.  I love art and groups of people and intimate quality conversation alike, so I filled most nights of the week with Bible study, coffee dates, concerts, or time with my boyfriend (Chris). I felt my identity in these things. But my room was always a mess, I never got enough sleep, and my to-do list never decreased. When a dreaded breakup with the boyfriend (yep, Chris) happened, I was terrified. I tried to be around someone else every single evening those first few nights, trying to block out the loneliness. A friend pointed out, "If you can't just be alone with yourself, that's a problem." She was right.

I got more okay with alone time after a while, but it realistically took until after we were married (disclaimer: lots of life change happened between that breakup and our eventual marriage) to deal with it more fully.  Chris took a job that required him to work one night a week, and the idea made me so anxious at first.  I filled every Thursday evening with plans, a different friend each week.  It took a while to actually start enjoying the evening to myself when plans fell through.  I attempted to clean the apartment, caught up on grading for school, watched chick flicks in the background, and started to enjoy the rest found in solitude and quiet.  I started to settle down ever so slightly.

I have also learned to say "no" a little better.  I'm a yes-person by nature, and I tend to get over-committed easily.  But in the past several years, I've started to feel freedom in fewer responsibilities and the joy in bringing others into spotlights and positions where they could use their gifts instead of me always filling the gaps.  I stopped giving tiny slivers of myself to tons of things and started to pour into fewer things in better ways.

All this to say: I have learned these things to an extent, but when we start to think we've mastered things, we're in danger.

I was scrolling social media one day (NOT something I "Love," but something I give a disproportionate amount of time to when left unchecked) when this post from singer-songwriter Christa Wells stopped me in my tracks:



I have not been able to get it out of my mind.  If she had stopped at "accept that you can't be awesome at everything; you cannot do or have it all" I would have breezed right by with a little "Amen!" and affirming chin nod.  But the concrete list of what she purposely gives less to in order to give more to music is what caught me.  First of all, I adore almost all of those things (well, not housekeeping. or early bedtimes. or gym classes... but the OTHER stuff).  She consciously gives them up to focus on the big-intimidating-fun-hard commitment of making art. I have read many things about balance and priorities and knowing that I can't do or have everything. I've done whole book and Bible studies about it.  But I "Love[like]" so many things.  What do I really Love the most?  Enough to give more time and full attention to it?

I have said "no" and quit individual things as circumstances have arisen and my hand has been forced.  I've fasted from things for periods of time and set timers and limiters to decrease my attention on wasteful things.  I know on some level I can't be everything.  But I've never sat down and concentratedly committed to giving less to things that I like for the sake of writing and making music.  No WONDER I don't create like I say I want to.  I guilt-trip myself and psych myself out and shake my head in shame at the lack of art I'm producing.  I've got such a full plate of things I Like/Love; how can writing really thrive in there?  It's like the parable of the sower in a way (NOT the original point of Jesus' story, but here's my personal application):

4 As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up.
I move so quickly through my days and weeks.  I've got a clear path of what I have to accomplish and how I'm going to get there.  I get song and writing seeds at times, and if I'm lucky, I record them in my phone before they're gone. Before I can plant them, though, their time gets eaten up by other things frequenting my path.

5 Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. 6 But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. 
I go to retreats and shows and festivals and get quickly inspired.  I drive away and I sing away into my recorder and pour into my journal.  But the sun sets and comes up again day after day, and soon the little seedlings wither away because they weren't rooted in something deeper than a temporary break from normal life.

7 Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants.
I think thorns can be the toxic things that we allow in our lives, whether it's a time waster, a relationship, a draining job, etc. But I also think the list of things we "love" can become thorns, or at the very least rocky soil.  The many things we enjoy grow up, each taking bits of our energy and nourishment, and the seeds of other loves get choked out and die.

8 Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.
How am I making good soil? Or, in Christa's question: 'How badly do I want to make art?'  What am I willing to pour into my craft and what am I willing to prune back so seeds can grow?  Some things are weeds that need to go, but some of the weeds are quite pretty and pleasing to the senses.  They don't seem like they're weeds, and they're not inherently bad or damaging.  But when I try to give myself to so many of them, there's not enough left to cultivate good soil for the seeds of inspiration dying to become songs and written word.

So, how badly DO I want to make art?  How badly do YOU want to do the thing you always wish you did more?  The thing you want to define and describe you, yet eludes you?  Do you want it enough to write out a list of things you like but are willing to sacrifice in order to create a bigger margin for art to grow?  Do I??

In 2015, I set out to do more of the things I wished I did, the things that others would Instagram and make me wish for.  I got fed up with wishing my life was a certain way and just needed to live it that way.  I lit the candles.  I dimmed the lights.  I put on the records.  I bought the fancy cheese.  I drank the wine.  I got better at creating an atmosphere to be the type of person I want to be, and it was important and healthy for a season - some fertile soil was tilled.  But now in 2016, it's time to pick and choose.  Am I willing to lessen coffee dates with people I Love to write more?  To turn off Netflix, even when the show is quality?  To ignore my closet and new trends for a while so I can save decision-making energy for a lyric or melody?

I hope so.  I hope you are, too, for whatever your Thing is that you want to Love the best.  Let's help each other save our energy for the things we REALLY Love, and not try to spread it so thin between everything we just [Like.]

So This Is the New Year.

This has been heavy on my heart and mind for the last month, and on this first day of the year, I finally have a moment to come back to it.

We kicked off our first-ever Christmas tour with a soft start in November - a college group we know and love invited us to make a stop with them, but their classes ended in early December and wouldn't leave time for a full-on Christmastime show.  So, we visited before Thanksgiving and played some normal C&J tunes with some Christmas songs at the end.

At the show, we got to see some familiar fans and meet some new wonderful faces.  I talked with one girl for a while afterward, and she bought both of our albums before leaving.  She was sweet and vibrant.  She took the time to post on our page later that week about how she couldn't stop listening to our albums - we were so touched by her enthusiasm and her thoughtfulness.  We messaged back and forth and made sure to invite her to the show we were playing in the same town soon.

But the Tuesday before that show, just two weeks after the night we met, I was scrolling through social media and saw prayer requests for the students of the school.  This young lady had suddenly passed away.

I was shocked.  We began to pray and reach out to those we knew at the college, and learned that this sweet girl had taken her own life.

And at that, I hit the wall, so to speak.  I wept for a good while before I could start our work for the day.

We knew this girl for fourteen days.  And that was all the time we would have with her.  In the last two weeks of her life, we had conversations with her.  She listened to music we wrote and recorded.  And then she was gone.

My thoughts were jumbled.  What hit me was some of the following:

• Our occupation as musicians and songwriters has purpose, gravity even.  And it's a lot bigger than just putting melody and chords together.
• Regardless of our occupation, our identity as Christians gives every meeting, every moment, every person purpose.
• We have no idea the demons that some people are fighting.  
• I don't want to waste words.  I don't want to waste breath.

Over the Rhine says it so well in one of their songs:
"I don't wanna waste the words 
That you don't seem to need
When it comes to wanting what's real
There's no such thing as greed
I hope this night puts down deep roots
I hope we plant a seed
Cause I don't wanna waste your time
With music you don't need" 

I don't want to waste time on words that are shallow and music that is inconsequential.  We do not know how long we get to know people in this life.  Everything counts.  Every. single. moment.  We get the chance to speak eternity to the hearts of people.  I want to do that.

As I tried to process, I clicked on her name from the comment she left on our page.  I could not get to the bottom of her feed to see anything she had posted herself; it was overflowing with words from people she knew.  Friends who shared the campus she attended.  Friends who hadn't seen her in too long.  Family from far away.  Those who spent many moments with her; those who wished they'd spent more time.  Post after post, everyone said the goodbyes they didn't get to say before she left.

And here is the other thing weighing on my heart:
Friends, we DO NOT have to wait to say these things.

We can say them while people are still here.  While they live and breathe and can read or hear those words.  Can process them.  Can feel their hearts swell and faint flames of joy ignite at knowing they are loved, they are valued, they are wanted, they are important.

What if this year, in 2016, we spent our days well by reaching out to people to tell them how much they mean to us?  The things we subconsciously think about them, but don't remember or even imagine saying in our everyday conversations (or far-spread out conversations, as the case may be).  To give the gift of affirmation to those who can receive it (and indeed are likely hungry to receive it).   Something deeper than just a "like" on a post - private, personal words of reflection.  Perhaps even the gift of LISTENING, for heavens sake - waiting for a response when we ask "How are you?" and not letting those we care about off the hook with a veiled "fine, thanks."  Think how many minutes and hours we spend in a day.  Which of those minutes are making eternal impact?  Which are we spending on mindless pursuits that we could turn into life-changing honesty and blessing?

I'm ramping up on this New Year's day, setting app timers and blockers in place to weed out the things that steal my attention from words that need to be said, whether directly to someone in my life or on this blog or in a song that could reach the ears of those I'll briefly or never meet.  If it's that person's best day or their worst, I want anything I've put out there to matter.  Enough with the shallow.  We have all been dying since the day we were born, and our souls are at stake.  Let's touch the souls we meet with intentional love.

View "I Don't Want to Waste Your Time" by Over the Rhine.

-Jenna

Our Longest Tour Yet

We are back home from our stint of shows through the midwest!  As a part-time band whose two members retain other part-time jobs, two weeks on the road has been our longest continuous stretch to date.  This was a test on several levels for us, and it was something we prayed would answer some questions about how we move forward as a band. 

First, a quick recap of our travels:

 We began with a Youth for Christ high school conference called Heatwave in Wildwood, NJ with The Remedy [Worship].  These guys are our brothers and some of our best friends.  We met some incredible students and YFC leaders, and even got a second to dip our toes in the sand! (Can you find us way in the back of the group shot??)

We drove straight from NJ to Wisconsin, stopping to sleep near Toledo. We were booked as Artists on the Rise at Under the Radar's Escape to the Lake, a four day music festival/retreat for artists and music lovers.  We met incredible musicians and folks from around the country, witnessed well-crafted songwriting and captivating concerts, and got to enjoy the beauty of Conference Point Center at Lake Geneva.

We explored Milwaukee (including cheese curds and brats) and played a show for youth and families at Grace Lutheran School in the suburbs.  We shared the stage with Donney Wright, a hip hop artist passionate about youth and the Gospel.

We explored Chicago NOT in January like our previous visits (courtesy of our hosts the McGinty's and Dave Trout of Under the Radar!) and played some of our songs and some corporate worship music for the Lincoln Park location of New Life Community Church. We also ate the obligatory Chicago deep dish pizza right before going on stage.  You know, like the pros do.

We played a house concert to a lovely crowd in Cincinnati with the uber-talented Son of Laughter, and our hosts invited us to play at City Gospel Mission for residents and the public the next morning.  We got to sneak in a quick visit to Over-the-Rhine, Graeter's ice cream, and Skyline chili before leaving the city.

We ended the tour with a house show in Louisville with our dear friend and fellow musician Adrian Mathenia.  We enjoyed a reunion with old friends and explored more of Louisville before driving through the night back to Maryland (in time for Jenna to play another gig that night... whew!).

So, those were our whirlwind 2 weeks on the road!  Now that we're home, we've been able to process some things we learned, both from questions we had before we left and things that we didn't anticipate.  Here are 8 of our thoughts.  (Why eight?  I don't know.  Why not?)

-God protects and provides.  This is not new information.  But there were so many little and big things that happened... lest we thought for one instant that we were in control of this tour, God quickly showed us otherwise.  We left a keyboard power cord behind at one location, and the venue where we discovered this just happened to have not only a power cord for our brand of keyboard, but an EXTRA.  We realized one mic stand was missing a mic clip, and the home we were in (note: someone's house. not a typical venue.) just happened to have their own sound system with a mic stand with a mic clip. We got caught in the mountains on our trek home in torrential downpour, the gas tank nearly empty, and very few exits to be seen... and an exit popped up with a gas station that was closed but the pump still worked.  In each of these moments, God provided peace that prevented panic - which I think is also an indication that I'm learning how to trust Him more instead of relying on my own strength and logic.  Each was uncomfortable, but I simply knew that God was going to work it out, and He did each time.

-Extended time on the road seems to work for us.  We love road trips.  We love exploring new places and trying local food specialties.  We also love playing music and and meeting new people.  There were tiring and trying moments for sure, but everything we saw and did was so life-giving that we came back feeling excited and energized rather than worn out.  I'm sure years of it could leave us feeling different, but for now, we wanted to get right back out there when we arrived back in Maryland.

-The kingdom is far-reaching and generous.  This tour was financially sustainable thanks to all of the hosts who provided us places to sleep and a meal.  We felt the healing effects of hospitality through this; we were well cared for and that enabled us to play and care for others well.  We felt a bit spoiled!  Each place we went, we met new friends who invited us to return one day under their roof.  People gave generously at shows.  And the aforementioned power cord?  The sound men cheerfully sent us on our way with their extra so that we could continue the tour.

-Audiobooks are a great way to travel.  Wanting to hear what came next in a book made long multi-hour stretches of driving seem to fade into the background.  We listened to Tina Fey's Bossypants (hysterical and strong) and started A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket.  (If you're interested, the first is kind of like a radio play, books 3 - 5 are terribly mastered and read by the author, but books 2 and 6 - 13 are read by Tim Curry.  He is fantastic.)

-Artistic community is invaluable when it's healthy.  The Escape to the Lake event we played was full of talented songwriters and musicians, as were shows that we played afterward.  Community centered around common interest and skill can sometimes entertain dangerous elements of comparison, competition, and pride, especially when creativity and performance are involved.  We have both been in such communities in the past, leaving us drained and anything but motivated to work on our craft.  ETTL, though, was full of community who simply desires good art to be made and celebrated.  The songs and skills of the artists present were awe-inspiring and encouraging, as were the artists themselves and the attendees.  We could not wait to get home and write again!  We've been touring and playing on our latest album over the past year, so this was a true page-turn for our artistic focus.  We would not have come upon such inspiration and motivation without this event.

-We need to stay connected to community back home.  In our road tripping pattern, we often didn't make or take phone calls that weren't related to the tour.  But the combination of preparations for departure, the actual two weeks on the road, and another week away soon after we returned put us in a place of not connecting with some people we love for over a month.  Whether they're physically from our town or close friends and family elsewhere, we quickly recognized that if extended road time becomes a normal part of our routine, we will need to take time away to pour into these relationships to ease the strain of absence.

-We're continuing on, one step at a time.  For years, I struggled with comparison and being a planner.  I would lament that other people were further along, more disciplined, more skilled, more driven, or at a magical successful point for which there was no road map.  I could not see how Chris & Jenna could be a full-time thing (or even whether it was supposed to be) with no linear path or numbered list of things to accomplish.  However, God does not typically hand out sets of 15 steps to people.  He gives ONE. at. a. time. And He invites us to trust him by following Him and obeying, even though we can't see the step after it, let alone the end game.  For now, that step looks like me eliminating some hours of another job that I've had in order to work more on the ministry that's been entrusted to us.  It seems that our story has been baby-stepping in some ways, and I'm now grateful for that.

-We are always learning to work better together.  This is hopefully true for any good marriage or business partnership.  In our case, we have both.  We are learning how to have grace with each other when we fail, to communicate through the mechanics and specifics of playing shows and packing up gear and traveling, to resolve conflict efficiently and lovingly, to divvy up responsibilities and tasks so that we can take care of business and still take care of the people around us, and to more selflessly serve one another.  We want to still love doing this together years down the road, so we want to be intentional about forming foundations and walls we can build upon.

Thank you to all who supported us in any way on this adventure.  We hope to revisit the Midwest (and/or a town near you) soon!

-Jenna

10 Things I Learned/Am Learning at 30

Oh, hey there, blog.  Long time no see, old chum. 

Last year, May was a monumental month.  We released our album on May 20th, I turned 30 on May 29th, and we played our release show on May 30th.  Turning 30 is one of those milestones people meet with many different attitudes.  Some feel it's an ancient number and curse the idea of growing older.  Some have a mini-crisis of all the self-imposed life things that were supposed to happen by that age.  Some simply deny it, publicly celebrating the anniversary of their 29th birthday for the rest of their days.  Some don't care.  Others are all about being 30. 

Tangent: I was probably 28 when I saw this movie for the first time, and I bawled my eyes out faced with a story that played out the possibility of living life apart from the man you both like and love best.  We are talking ugly, hiccuping cry.  I may or may not have trouble separating movies from reality.  
And I may or may not have a flair for the dramatic.

I probably fell somewhere in middle of these extremes - I thought about it a lot, so I felt rather introspective about completing my thirtieth year on the planet.  I mulled over the ways I had grown and the things I was learning, thinking I wanted to write it all down sometime.  I continued to mull, continued to want to record all the thoughts, some haphazardly scrawled in a journal, some trapped in the hamster wheel of my brain.

And then I turned 31 this past Friday.  Oops.  No time like the present!  Oddly, I prepared a lot for 30, but 31 caught me way off guard (it sounds so much oooolder).  It was not until late in my birthday celebrations that night that I realized I have to remember a new number to tell people when they ask my age.  Now that I'm officially "in my thirties" (WHAT THE WHAT. WEIRD.), here are 10 things I've learned and am learning a little over three decades into this life journey.

Amen, Michelle.  

Also, numbered lists are the thing now, thanks to Buzzfeed and the like.  

So I followed suit. 

1) Perspective is key. Some of our social groups have gradually shifted away from a good bunch of folks younger than us meeting many societal milestones before us.  We now hear friends and fellow musicians in their mid to late thirties and forties that find out I'm 31 and say, "Oh, you're BABIES!"  I'm not gonna lie, it's a refreshing perspective.  Some days, it feels like there are SECONDS before I will be too old to do anything in my life.  And then other days, I see decades that stretch out before me like the sea.  Mixed ages and places from the people I surround myself with give me a more mixed and healthy perspective.

2) On that note, comparison is one of the devil's best inventions.  Far too many days have gone by with me curled in an incapacitated heap, using other people's stories to judge my own life.  "So and so started doing music full time at 22, so I'm way too late."  "That girl wrote an incredible album at 17. What am I doing with my life?!"  "She reads books by candlelight and is always poetic and fabulous.  I just wish I did.  I fail."  LIES.  Who am I to tell God that He is not creative enough to write a story for my life that is completely original and different than others I've seen??  When I measure myself by their stories, all growth and motivation stops.  When I start living my own, God can move.

3) Speaking of perspective, I'm not the first person to feel what I feel.  God so gently emphasized this at a women's gathering called IF in February 2014, where I was self-deprecatingly pouring my heart out to answer one of our dinner discussion questions and the 70 year old woman beside me matter-of-factly said, "Oh, honey.  You're way too hard on yourself.  It's not as bad as all that."  Most of my relationships for a while had been either peer or in a mentor-like relationship with a younger woman.  Now I've finally followed through and reached out to some older women who have already navigated some of these life stages, and go figure, it's completely relieving and they have wisdom and grace and can speak into my so-called hot mess.

4) I'm more aware of trends.  More specifically, I'm more self-aware of finding that I like things because they have been strategically marketed and are part of a trend.  When I find myself totally crushing on owls, and also hear other girls gush to me "Oh my gosh, I LOVE owls too!!" it is no accident.  This is notable not just in awareness, but in life and purchasing decisions.  I may like owls now, but I might not like them nearly so much five years from now.  So maybe I don't need to buy that precious owl-related piece of home décor.  It sounds kind of obvious, I suppose, but I was oblivious to this for a while.  It's okay to enjoy things in the moment, but if I can better discern what's truly worth investing in, then that's progress in my book.

5) I'm a little less emotional.  A little.  Just a smidge.  Maybe not.  It may just be that I've been able to not let emotion fuel reactions as much - it's not always the driving force like it used to be.  Self-control is a fruit of the Spirit, and it's one that's finally growing more as I grow.  (Chris is praising the heavens.)

6) I am what I eat.  This is still a road with highs and lows... but curbing my sugar intake really does decrease the amount that I crave it, and I feel better when I eat more vegetables and fresh food.  This is not rocket science.  But eating whatever I wanted for years is a habit that has taken a long time to get away from.

7) Do I own my stuff, or does it own me?  Most of these personal revelations could be their own blog posts, and this one definitely could be.  For now, I will say it has been an uphill climb to start to release the grip I have on material possessions and to start to simplify.  But each time I gain a foothold and fill another bag of stuff I don't need, my spirit feels lighter and a sense of freedom starts to return.  There are lots of ways addictive personalities and sin can manifest themselves.  Becoming aware and vigilant about such things is hard but so worth it.

8) Forgiveness is a [daily] choice.  This has been a big one.  Living into forgiveness in tough situations involves daily sacrificing my pride and taking my thoughts captive, rather than falling back into bitterness with the next offensive word or careless action from the person.  Forgiveness in less dire situations is more frequent and still requires sacrificing my pride and taking my thoughts captive, to not lose precious time holding out on those I love most.  It also requires not waiting for an apology.

9) Self-analysis is good, to a point.  I have gone through my mid to late-twenties phase of starting to look at my life dynamics through the eyes of an adult.  I see the actions of my parents in different light, I see cause and effect in past situations, I can trace back through patterns and stimuli.  Chris will tell you that I think about these things a great deal.  And it can be well and good and helpful...  But there comes a time when continuing to focus on the root cause and pointing blame is just looking backward.  If I want any kind of redemption in this life, I need to acknowledge these things for what they are and start to take steps forward and away from them. 

10) You get one step at a time.  I'm a planner.  I would like the entire life plan, the end game, the list of instructions, the manual, anything that will enable me to chart my course and go.  Unfortunately, this is not often how God works.  He told Abraham, "Go where I will send you."  He gives countless people in Scripture one instruction at a time.  When they follow and prove faithful in that step, they are given more.  I am finally learning to be content with the one step and to act on it.  Waiting for the whole set results in me not moving at all.

All this to say, it is comforting to know I'm a work in progress.  Amid the occasional panic moments of LIFE IS TOO DANG FAST, I'm grateful for the chance to know myself better, to know God better, and to mature.  There are lots of movies based around going back in time to when life was "better."  I wouldn't trade this life stage for high school, college, the twenties... any of it.  I am sure I will look back when I'm 41 and think, "Gosh, I knew NOTHING!"  It will be a sign that I kept growing and changing.  And I think that's the point.



Dressember: What I Learned

Late November 30th, I (Jenna) decided to stop hemming and hawing and jump dress-first into Dressember.  I heard about it through fellow husband-wife-duo Jenny & Tyler's newsletter, and I joined Jenny's team goal of trying to raise $4500 to fund an International Justice Mission rescue mission. 

From the team Dressember page:
"IJM is a human rights organization that works to combat human trafficking and modern day slavery, and basically stands up for the rights of those who cannot stand up for themselves. They are a group of lawyers, investigators, and social workers. They go into situations to investigate and gather evidence, rescue victims, provide aftercare for the formerly enslaved, and prosecute offenders.  IJM is making real change. They work with local police and governments with the intention of fixing broken justice systems. They ensure that the law protects the most vulnerable." 

 
I am NOT ABOUT being cold.  Truly.  I don absurd amounts of layers at the mere thought of going outside below 50 degrees.  But, I do own dresses... a lot of them... and it seemed like something good to focus on this December besides the 'typical' holiday rush (which I despise. but that's another blog post.).  Now that the 31 days are complete, here are my reflections, in no particular order:

-It's not as cold as I think, usually.  This might seem silly.  But I really do fear being cold, and there were only a few days this month that I felt any real pain from wearing tights out in the elements.  I can stand to toughen up a bit, I think.  
 
-Forced discipline is good for me.  This was a willing endeavor, of course, but I was 'forced' to continue because of the public aspect.  People would see me at work and out and about each day, so if I wasn't wearing a dress, it would be quickly evident.  On the rare occasion I wouldn't be in planned direct contact with others, I was still posting a photo on Instagram every day, so I still needed to get into a dress.  Self-discipline is something I struggle with, and the accountability that came with this made me actually follow through.  (Unlike the Advent calendar I made a couple of years ago that I try to force us to get through each year... but again, another blog post.....)

-People are generous.  This was a reminder; I have learned this already in incredible ways (namely, making our last album!).  It is intimidating to campaign for a financial cause in December, when a) people need to buy gifts and b) seemingly every non-profit organization is trying to raise money to meet their year-end budgets.  A goal of $300 seemed a bit lofty, and I really didn't know what would happen... but it was met and surpassed by Day 17.  I'm so grateful for the women who got behind this cause to give other people a chance at life and freedom!

-Let nothing be taken for granted.  Each day that I posted a picture of the dress I was wearing, I intentionally tried to shed light on the issue of human trafficking with my description.  And I found that I could relate almost everything about my life to this.  If I had food to eat, chose what I wore, had a bed to sleep in, worked a vocation of my choosing, had access to technology, used my educated mind, saw my husband... all of it was suddenly precious and no longer a given.  And this was not the passive realization of counting my blessings and sitting on my haunches - it came in such a way that moved me to do something about those who do not have these basic human rights because they have been stolen, trafficked, sold, robbed.

 -I own an absurd amount of clothing.  Again, a reminder, nothing new.  But someone asked me in the beginning of the month if I really had enough dresses to wear for 31 days, and I said, "Oh, no way - I'll do laundry and repeat and restyle them as I go."  With 10 days to go, I counted the unworn dresses hanging in my closet (without having repeated one yet) and realized that I could surpass the 31 day mark EASILY with plenty leftover.  Yikes.  Excess is something God has been working on in me, and this was another painful reminder that I can't get comfortable feeling like I've handled it in one area of my life and ignore the others.  Most of these dresses were purchased very inexpensively (under $10) or were even hand me downs from a friend - but, let that not excuse indulgence.  It cues important communication from me, as others ask and are pleasantly impressed with my wardrobe.  This is NOT an area I am proud of, nor do I want to perpetuate the sins of wasting resources and hoarding possessions.  We cannot take one bit of them into the next life.  They are dust.  I need to tell myself this daily and loosen my attachment to them.

-This was a creative outlet.  I have grown to enjoy creativity in fashion to a small extent, and this month pushed that further.  I am no fashion magazine trendsetter, but I found I was experiencing some of the same enjoyment that I feel when I'm decorating our apartment or being crafty.  When it comes to visual arts, I can't draw or paint to create from nothing like Chris can, but I can combine existing elements in ways that please and intrigue me.  I am still processing this, but I think it is opening me to several things, including: 
1) to be able to let more clothes go. I experimented more with how to combine different wardrobe pieces and accessories, and the possibilities currently in my closet are ENDLESS.  I can pare down a considerable amount and still be able to come up with creative combinations.  Some of this is thanks to seeing Dressember pics of girls who took one dress and styled it 7 unique ways throughout the month (or even 31 different ways! Some girls, including the founder of the movement, wore the same dress all month long and looked like knockouts the whole way through).  I can do that. 
2) to toe the line between recognizing God-given joy in creativity in this arena and the dangerous slope into materialism and vanity.  The propensity for these things is very real in my life, and I need the Spirit to keep me in balance.  

 
-God can use anything for His purposes.  It's soooooo easy for us to judge those who have different interests and passions than our own, and who dedicate different aspects of their lives to God.  But I had conversations about human trafficking with my mechanic, my family, my coworkers... these would not have taken place were it not for a compliment based on whatever dress-centered outfit I wore that day.  God can use something as simple as a dress to create change and save lives.

-Social media really can foster connection.  So much of it masquerades as doing just that while really alienating us from one another as we compare, judge, comment, hate.  But as I used my #dressember hashtag each day on Instagram, I got likes from users I did not know.  Visits to their profiles often showed that they were working in many ways that align with the mission of IJM - Noonday ambassadors, independent clothing designers with integrity, fair trade boutique entrepreneurs, and so many more.  I got to see so many pieces of what the Kingdom is doing!  I also got to see creativity pour out of Dressember participants.  Some had stunning photographs capturing their dresses, some were men coming up with inventive ways to support the mission instead of wearing a dress, some were women doing surprising things in a dress, some were artists who gave voice to this movement through their craft, some found clever ways to visually work the mission into their photographs and descriptions, some were teachers like me!  And all were uniting under one cause, one umbrella to speak truth and stand for justice.  I was a part of something much bigger than me, and I got to affirm and connect with strangers I will likely never meet.

-On the flipside, full disclosure: I hate selfies.  I hate taking them of myself, I'm not really into seeing other people's, I'm not really about the whole concept.  It just feels like "HEY LOOK AT ME!" to me.  No judgement on those of you who love them, this is just my personal bent.  My exception is if someone is with me in the picture, because it's capturing a moment of interaction.  But for most of these, I only remembered to take a photo when I was alone.  For a while, I kept my face entirely out of the pictures, because I knew I'd end up taking 8 shots until I had one I sort of liked of myself.  I then found that as long as I kept my phone in front of part of my face, I wasn't too critical.  There are some of my full face, but it took a while to get there.  I promise I don't hate the way I look in real life or in a mirror.  But a month of taking selfies was starting to have the self-indulgent feeling I had correctly anticipated.  It's a vanity thing.  So, I'm relieved to be done with them for a while.  Too many minutes messing with filters and adjustments.  If I do it again, I will enlist Chris to take creative pictures that are not me in a mirror.

-How I direct compliments is crucial.  This month was a more day to day occurrence with coworkers, trying to point each "You look so cute!" back to IJM, the issues at hand, and not glorifying the mountains of dresses I own.  This is a big thing when we're on stage, too - wearing a fun outfit to play a show definitely helps me get in the zone of confidence and creativity.  But if all people (especially young women) walk away with is an impression of cute clothes or 'style,' I have failed the mission of why we make music.  The answer is NOT to refute them, because that dishonors the giver; it's simply trying to channel the glory to the One who deserves it.  It's a delicate dance.  I'm trying not to step on toes.

-They say it takes 21 days to break a habit.  I felt this in terms of desire for pants, especially jeans.  Jeans are pretty much my go-to, but after so long of not wearing them, I stopped missing them.  I attribute much of this to leggings being in style.  If tights were my only option for warmth, I might not have gotten so used to it.  But with it being the holiday season and endless food abounding, leggings were really much friendlier to my expanding waistline than jeans would have been (are), anyway.  I've worn jeans these first 3 days of January, but I changed back out of them last night because leggings would not dig into my leftover-eating hips.  I also welcome legwarmers back to the world.  I missed you, legwarmers, though I was too young to get the hang of you back in the '80s.

-You don't realize the value of what you have until you really use it (or don't).  Obvious, but true.  I often have lusted after cute outfits and clothing pieces and accessories as I see them in advertising, in stores, on people I deem cooler than myself, anywhere.  I have a bit of an insatiable thirst when it comes to this.  I always elevate whatever new thing I'm looking at above everything I already own.  I didn't just throw a dress on each day this month; I put thought into every outfit and created more detailed looks than I do many days, almost like I was dressing for a show every day (NOTE: this does NOT mean the goal was/is to impress others; I was finding creative pleasure in this and feeling confident in these choices.  I make this distinction more for me than for you, to check my own motives.).  And I realized that I really do have so many pieces that could create an endless combination of looks that I really like.  This cured some of my fashion lust.  So much so that, for Christmas, Chris gifted me with the promise of a trip to Francesca's where he will pick out something for me, something I'd long proclaimed would make me happy as a clam.  And it does still make me happy, but I will need a while before I feel like I want or need this to happen - I'm almost 'cute'-ed out.  I did not think this was possible.  (He gave me an expiration date of March 31, so I've got a couple months to get over it!)

-Maybe THIS is real Christmas.  Jesus came to the world poor and homeless.  His people were in bondage to sin and could not free themselves.  And he spoke freedom for the captives, hope for the hopeless, all from a posture of humility and earthly weakness.  When we truly see the slave, the widow, the orphan in distress, we see Jesus.  When we begin to feel the weight of their pain, we feel the weight of the duplicity of Advent - the longing of the Israelites for so, so long for a Savior, and the groaning of creation now for Him to come back again and make all things right in the face of slavery, abduction, injustice, fear.  With each life we free, we are saying "YES, Jesus.  Welcome."  We are reordering creation in the smallest of pieces.  Each post from IJM about a new rescue gives me "a thrill of hope / the weary world rejoices."  This is why we have Christmas at all, and this is the working out of our daily Advent.

Thanks to those of you who followed along on Instagram.  There is still time to donate to the final total - the overall goal is $500k, and we are almost there.  It was an adventure, and above all else, I pray for hope, freedom, and restoration for all!!

My personal fundraising page: https://support.dressemberfoundation.org/fundraise?fcid=382369

 

Come to Me.

I (Jenna) am keeping this one relatively short.  This is a feat where my verbose writing mind is concerned.  But it is important this time.  I am simultaneously inspired to write and to heed the words laid upon my heart.

We are preparing for a conference this weekend - we're returning to lead worship for a group of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship students in the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania.  Just the two of us, no extra musicians along for the jam this time.  And it will be so good when we get there.  The week leading up to such things, though, is always a looming mountain to me.  I look upon each hour as a fractional piece, placing expectations upon us of practice in every spare moment to try to get even remotely close to the whole of "Prepared," because that is what we should always be and never are and we are SO behind and when will it happen if not now and how can we be professionals and what is wrong with us.

This inner monologue guilt trip is never once what God has said to me.  But heavens, I've recited it over and over again maniacally and tried to beat Chris over the head with it, too, in moments of desperation.  I will let you take about two seconds to surmise how effective this is.

So tonight, we cackled through the downhill spiral of Once Upon a Time over Mexican pie (unrelated: new obsession = savory pie), wrote to this precious face (the Compassion child we sponsor), watched the new Avengers movie trailer (and after he sopped up his drool, Chris explained all of it to me so I can pretend I know what's going on and be just as pumped), and at last sat down to practice.

I mean, LOOK AT HIM.  His future hopes include

becoming an evangelist and meeting us. *dies*

And as we sat down, Chris said, "Is it too late to add another song?"

I stared silently back and willed the giant YES back down and the eye-daggers back into their sheaths.  In my head, I looked quite receptive.  I won't ask him, just in case.

He said he just felt like it was a really appropriate response song, and it would be simple, and we didn't have to, but it was really poignant and maybe we could try it?  "Okay.  Try it."  Which translates to "Of course, my dearest love," and not "Sure. Go. I dare you," if you were wondering.

So then he sat down at the piano and played and sang the song.  

Come to me

Walk with me

Learn the rhythms of my grace

And I thought, well, maybe, harumph, okay.

Come to me

I have all you need

Learn to rest even while you are awake 

And then we pulled it up on Bandcamp to listen through to get it correct. 

Are you tired?

Are you worried?

Worn out from the day?

Have you been in a hurry?

I will slow the pace.

Hmm.  Umm.  Well.  Let's try it.  Key of Bb.  Jenna sings.

Come to-

And I was done.

I could sing no more words.

In a child's lullaby, the Voice of ages cut through my noise.
The floodgate was shattered.

One tear turned to three.

A trickle down my cheek turned to a river.

And I was small.  frail.  present.  listening.  

And He was Great.  Strong.  Present.  Speaking.

Come to me.  Come to me.  Come to me.

"Yeah, me too," said Chris.

Here I am.

And there I go.

The end.

Lyrics from "Come to Me" featuring Sandra McCracken from the Rain for Roots project album The Kingdom of Heaven is Like This. listen and purchase.  it will be worth it.

Mess.

Here's a little insight to my [Jenna's] past month or so.

I am now 30.  And with that has come an ever-increasing desire to live well.  In the physical realm, this looks like integrating main ideas of healthy eating into our grocery shopping and diet.  Like starting to run (read: jog/power walk/wheeze) in the mornings before work.  Like gradually exchanging chemical products in our home for natural solutions.  Like learning cleaning techniques our mothers and grandmothers knew like the backs of their hands, but for some reason didn't quite bridge the generation gap.  Like trying to get a handle on a schedule of keeping our apartment less of a wreck despite our crazy days.

This is a great image to illustrate my recent cleaning efforts, and also how I look and feel never.

The more I am trying to do these things, the more I am foiled in my efforts.  Shocking, right?

Specifically, I'm looking at you, cleanliness.  In the past couple of weeks, we have:

• knocked an entire container of bright yellow mustard barbecue sauce onto the carpet
• kicked a full glass of red wine over onto the carpet (beside the mustard stain)
• gotten home to discover a gallon of milk leaked into the backseat of my car (a mere week after DIY-shampooing the seats, because Pinterest! and cleanliness!)
• discovered the health benefits of turmeric and its part in creating delicious Indian-style food like lamb sloppy joes... as well as its apparent dying properties of counters, clothes, and anything ever
• had coconut oil-laden bulletproof coffee (healthy! let's do it!) leak into the depths of our Magic Bullet and all over the counter (incidentally, when you google 'hot liquid in M.B.,' disregard the half of people who say they've been doing it for years and heed the other half who say the pressure will make it shoot through the blade)
• discovered my old sneakers are now tracking black footprints everywhere, notably on freshly mopped floors
• and probably at least 29 other things.

 Thank you, universe.  Thank you, klutziness.  Thank you, thank you, irony.  (This would be my current version of that Alanis Morisette song.  Which, really, I could just say 'that Alanis song.'  Because who else is named that?!  I digress.)

And it INFURIATES ME.  To NO END.

 
It feels like such a waste of time.  I could be doing Big Things and Important Things and instead I am locked into a distasteful thing I hate for the next 25 minutes as I blot, scrub, press, shake. 

In a fit of rage and drama normalcy, I finally cried out, "I am DONE.  Get rid of it.  All of it.  Hire a dumpster.  Have a yard sale.  I don't care.  I am done owning things if all I am going to do is spend my time trying to fix them.  I don't want to own anything anymore."

Chris basically did a bell-kick in the air and gleefully asked when we can buy the RV and hit the road.

This would be fun for .4 days for me. 
Chris would be happy as a pup with two tails for life.

We have not sold all the things yet.  But truly, I have struggled.  I am attempting to become more responsible and care for what God has given us.  And it just feels like it keeps blowing up in my face.  I have not understood it.  And my frustration has grown.

And now, finally tonight, God has spoken.

I was at a prayer gathering - part of IF : Pray - and women were offering up sweet, honest prayers of hope, confession, desperation, life.  And one woman uttered, "I need You every moment, Lord.  Your mercies are new every morning because I need them."

And I heard: "This is why."

Clarity.  Undone. 

"Abide.  Need me.  Come to me."

Do I need God to get a stain out of a rug?  Well, working in my own strength sure isn't working out great, for me or for Chris.  Some of the messes have been cleaned up (praise the Lord - the spoiled-milk-dead-animal-soul-sucking-dementor smell in the car lingered for a good week, and I was getting ready to hitchhike to work); others stubbornly remain and I'm still fighting them.  I sourly, bitterly, selfishly fight.  Maybe the stain lifts, maybe it doesn't, but my mood is terrible and Chris wants to be nowhere near me.  I am anything but lovely.

Each new spill and drop and waste is an opportunity to lean on God.  Each is a tiny picture of the Mess I create in my life when I try to do it apart from Him.  That as I try to wrestle for control of my days, the Mess just gets bigger.  That as I push and scrub harder and harder through my gritted teeth, I grind the stains of my life in deeper and deeper and solidify the evidence of my mistakes and my foolishness.  But oh, how I try.

"I know You are there, catching, carrying this beautiful mess." - Sixpence NTR

So.  Deep breath.

When the next thing spills, I will pause and breathe and thank God for his presence and his reminder that I. need. Him.  I need him every hour.  Every moment.  Every second.  That trying to do life without him is futile and just messier and messier.  I was a Mess before he got a hold of me, and I revert to Mess each time I act in my own strength and not his.

I need You, God.  Thanks for putting me - literally - on my hands and knees.  This was an unusual lesson for me.  But I got it, eventually.  I need You.

"I need Thee, oh I need Thee, every hour I need Thee."