sort of full of

I went running today.

Let me rephrase that...

I went for a walk today, and on my walk I decided to run a little.

Toward the end of my walk/run it started to rain, and it was beautiful.

I was close to home, but instead of turning back toward the house I kept walking straight, further away from having a roof over my head. I just had the desire to keep moving, and I didn't want the rain to stop me. Quite the opposite, infact, I invited the rain... it felt amazing!

At first I just started moving my arms, waving them back and forth, but before I knew it I was all out dancing.

I walked/skipped to an empty park, and huge trees were at my disposal to hide under, but I kept finding myself out in the open, dancing in the rain...

and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was living abundantly.

Simple as that.

It didn't require an extravagant vacation, or a famous charity to donate lots of money to. It didn't require performing for hundreds of people, or publishing a book. I didn't have to go to Africa to feel alive, a thought I struggle with often.

Nope.

I realized that by just hoping to live an abundant life, I've been missing out on the opportunity to actually live it.

Maybe one day I'll be able to travel the world, or play my music in front of lots of people... a life I hope to live. But in the mean time, I have a life to live... everyday... in the ordinary, in the small things.

As I started to walk/jog a little back home, I noticed the people driving by. I could tell by the expressions on their faces that they felt sorry for me. When they saw me soaking wet on the side of the road I could almost hear them blurt out, "sucks for you!"

It's funny, because that was my exact thought when I saw them sitting there all nice and dry in their big fancy cars. They had no idea what it felt like in that moment to feel the rain, and I genuinely felt sorry for them.

I walked and stood under a tree for a bit to catch my breath, and I just smiled. I smiled and I said to myself, "so this is what it is... to live... to really live."

Most people know I've struggled with depression for a long time (something I openly talk about in the past tense). What they don't know is that depression remains a current struggle in my life that I feel somewhat embarrassed to talk about. Even now I'm debating as to whether or not I should erase this paragraph, knowing there is a stigma associated with depression that I don't want to be associated with. But then I think about my time today, and I realize I don't care.

I don't care what people think when they see me dancing in the rain. Nor do I care what people think when they see me take my medication. I experience lows, yes, absolutely. But I've started to realize that it's in those lows that I experience my God holding me, and telling me how much He loves me. It's in those lows that I've actually stopped long enough to listen to His voice, which really makes it not a low at all.

So what purpose has depression served in my life... to be a blessing or a curse? To be honest, I don't know. Sometimes I think a little of both. But instead of trying to figure it out, I'm just going to live my life... one day at a time.

Today I lived my life out in the rain instead of hiding under my covers.

Thank you, Lord, for such a time as this.

dinner's ready

Today a plane took off aimed in the direction of London, England, and on that plane were (and still are) about 10-12 people whose ultimate destination is Uganda, Africa.

I am not one of those people. 

And I can't tell you how hard it is to sit here and type that.

I could be on my way, back to Africa, but instead I sit comfortably in the house of which I live and wait for dinner to be fixed.

I will sit down at the dinner table. Someone will pray over the food, I'm sure. I will laugh through dinner. I will disconnect from this sadness that I feel inside me and try to be as present as possible among those I love. But when dinner is over, I will go to my room, I will sit on my bed, and I will sit in silence.

I can't predict what will happen, but I will sit, and be still, and think of how I wish I could be among those that I love... those in Africa. I may try not to cry, but odds are that might be how this picture ends up.

Even as I type this, I hold back tears, knowing that I don't want to head to the dinner table all teary eyed.

I can't help but ask God...

"What am I doing here? Why am I not on that plane?"

But there is nothing... 

just silence.

So I try again...

"God, why am I not on that plane?"

And I hear something...

"JJ... dinner's ready!"

I glance up at Him and I laugh, knowing that later He will be holding me when I cry, but until then I do my best to obey Him...

Dinner's ready, so I must go.

Until next time...

no more

I talked to my dad on the phone tonight.

I sat in the driveway, swatted mosquitoes off my feet, and cried while I listened to his voice. 

I love his voice. It calms me yet causes me to cry all at the same time.

I missed him so much that I got in my car and drove to my uncle's house, his brother, who fortunately lives only 5 minutes away, and who happens to look just like him, and I sat at his feet and I felt like I was home.

I stayed over for a while and just laid on the floor. We watched a dateline show about Michael Jackson's death, ate fruit popsicles, then walked the dogs one last time before bed (and not just any dogs, mind you, great danes... flippin' huge!).

And now I find myself here... speechless, yet wanting so desperately to write.

And I got nothing. I pray that soon my words will return to me... for even this little bit was hard for me to get out.

I knew I had to start somewhere, so I started with my dad.

Upon hearing his voice, I wanted to start writing again... even if I had nothing to say, I just had to say something... 

I've been silent long enough.