New Blog Address

Hey everyone,

This respite is soon going to become Prior Respite. My new blog address is http://jessicacarey.blogspot.com. All future postings will be there.

My grandpa

I'm working on a Bible talk, looking for a particular Carl Sandburg poem. I find this one instead.

Illinois Farmer

BURY this old Illinois farmer with respect.
He slept the Illinois nights of his life after days of work in Illinois cornfields.
Now he goes on a long sleep.
The wind he listened to in the cornsilk and the tassels, the wind that combed his red beard zero mornings when the snow lay white on the yellow ears in the bushel basket at the corncrib,
The same wind will now blow over the place here where his hands must dream of Illinois corn.

I think of my grandfather working Illinois days and sleeping Illinois nights. I think of cornsilk and biting wind and hard yellow ears of corn. I think of a life. I'm studying Jesus' promise to return and make all things right, but dreams falling through dirty hands, kernal by kernal, seem more real.

Tears are not uncommon in this house. We are six young-adult single women, full-time graduate students, here with just a little bit of faith, longing to be within a secure, long-standing community where we can both know and be known. Tears flow in the faltering patience for hope to be realized. All of the tears are of longing, some of them more intense than others. One roommate and boyfriend ended their relationship today. What was just around the corner slipped through their fingers, leaving them with hurt and confusion over emotions invested and time spent in what was not to be. Bottles of tears were cried by her and for her over her pain. And then tonight another housemate got word from a friend in another country, giving her graphic details of what happened to her friends who were martyred one week ago. Suddenly, the horrible violence found among humans was reality; victims of religious persecution were not foreigners but rather ministry partners and friends. My housemate fell prostrate on the floor, sobbing, crying out to Yahweh, asking why. We were on the floor with her, praying desperate personal prayers for protection of those in danger, prayer that the Gospel would move forward through the persecution, prayers for those left behind without fathers, husbands, and fiances, and prayers that the powers of darkness would be bound and what Satan intended for evil God will make for good. Is this life anything more than longing?

Being Right

According to some psychologists, one of the key traits of a first-born child is the need to be right, all of the time. As a firstborn, I want to dispute this theory, yet the possibility that i will be proven wrong deters me. I admit, though, that I like to be right. Who doesn't?

Last week I got home from spring break to find all of my coats (heavy wool to unlined nylon) off of the coat rack and on my bed. I ask my housemate (who is from Florida) about it and she said, "Those are your winter coats; I thought you'd want to put them away." I admit it, I laughed at her. I said, "It's 75 degrees now, but we are still going to need our coats before summer comes!" I tried to explain that there would be several days of 40-50 degree highs before 70's would be a norm. She dug her heel into the ground (well, not really a heel since she was wearing flip-flops) and pledged she was wearing flip-flops now until next winter.

The 70 to 80 degree weather has been wonderful. Yet, 40's are coming back our way, and I wish I wasn't right about still needing my winter coat. And my poor housemate. She's spending Easter in South Bend with a friend. I think they're calling for snow every day of Easter weekend. So, part of me is smug that I was right, but most of me is wishing that i was stupid and wrong. ;(

My mouth is bleeding, golf-ball size swelling on my ankle, and my bedroom smells like sewer gas

...but other than that, everything's good. Karen, it was soooo wonderful to see you at Annual Banquet last night. Kristi, I want another hug. Melissa, I'm sorry we didn't get to spend more time together. Melissa Jean, I'm so glad you came to lunch with us; I want so much to hear what's going on with you. Kristen, you rock my world and give me a safe place to land. Maryann, missed you. Bri, missed you too.