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