call out the gold

I recently had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of a man named Pastor John who is from Uganda.  Pastor John is incredible; he is a church planter, has 20 kids, runs an organization that helps orphans, is sought-after by many pastors in several countries, has shepherded countless people in the faith...and yet still finds three days in his life to join a crazy group of white people for a safari in Kenya.

He's pretty cool.

He stands out to me as a truly exception person.  His humility is contagious.  He is always full of joy.  He relates so effortlessly to many kinds of people.  You'd think a man like him, when asked his prayer requests, would simply ask for wisdom to guide so many people, or something like that.

Which he did.  But as we parted ways a few months ago, do you know what else he asked prayer for?

That he would continue to meet new friends who could tell him things he didn't know about himself.

Oh. my. gosh.  It all made sense.  That's why we love honest compliments.  Why we love to look at pictures and videos of ourselves.  Why we ask for others' opinions about our looks, endeavors, personalities.  It's because we see "me" from a really close lens.  To you and me, self is the endless churning and changing of the ocean that looks so uniform and still from an onlooker miles away.  Our rushing thoughts burn so loudly in our ears that we fail to see the small percentage that actually make it out the door in one piece.

But to other people, well, they see the whole shabang.  They see Mount Rushmore from the road instead of from Teddy's nose.  Strangers get a really good sense of who "you" is even when you don't know who you are.  People who know us really well can count each and every stitch that makes up the fabric of our lives.  They might even know us better than we know ourselves, because they can analyze objectively when we can't.

Oh, how sweet it is to have people in your life who call out the gold in you when you're too close to see it.

"I love the way you smile; it always reminds me to take a deep breath and enjoy the moment." You've never thought twice about smiling; it's just what you do.

"Whenever you play the violin I can just feel the emotion in your music." You actually you feel pretty insecure about your violin skills.

You get the picture.

Be that person for someone.  When you see something, anything, good in someone, don't hesitate to tell them.  It might trigger the first positive thought they've had about themselves for a long time.

Or, like Pastor John, it might just fuel the fire that's already burning and help shape them into the person God made them to be.

You never know.

do what you love

I suppose this is a bit of a self-preaching post, but I'm going to say it anyways:

Do what you love.

Be who you are.

Dream big dreams.

It seems so simple, yet so often we fall prey to ridiculous thought patterns like, "what will they think of me?" "I don't know who I am" "that could never happen so I won't get my hopes up".

Like I said...ridiculous.

So call out your insecurities for what they are.  Say them out loud.  Then laugh at them, because fears and doubts are always just untruths that hold you back from living the life God has for you.

Then begin to speak and think over yourself what you actually want.  Thoughts empower your reality, whether negative or positive.

God knows what He has for you...just trust Him and enjoy your life.

the thing about crickets

When I was little, my dad and brother went to a barber named Alfred. A barber. Named Alfred. I know, classic.

Alfred was a short guy, Italian, with a big smile and glasses. He was friendly to no end and brother and I always enjoyed visiting the shop.

I don't really remember much about Alfred; if he had kids, if he was married, where he was from. But I do remember one thing he told us once, in passing. He probably forgot it the second after he said it, but somehow I think of him every single August.

He said, "Whenever the crickets start chirping at night, you know that fall is just around the corner."

It hit me like a revelation. I had always associated the chirping of crickets with summer, not autumn. My first reaction to this revelation was denial. "No, it can't be!" I thought. Crickets sang in the summer, my favorite season. The coming of autumn was the biggest thorn in my flesh; I hated the thought of days ending sooner and the endless requirement of shoes and sleeves. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized he might be right. Perhaps I hadn't actually noticed crickets until later in the season. 

Alfred's short sentence had single-handedly changed my perspective on life. 

I loved summer and hated thinking about its end. But now the waning of summer held new bittersweet anticipation: the cheerful song that comforted me as I fell asleep.

Last night as I lay in bed, windows open, cool night air coming in, everything dark but the warm sky, I realized that the crickets were singing. "Things are changing, slowly but surely," they seemed to chant. I realized that summer, along with it's hot golden sun and endless outdoor activities, is beginning to fade, once again. But because summer is leaving, that means my birthday is coming. It means I'm one day closer to reuniting with some of my closest friends next month. It means that God is still guiding this planet in the same direction it always has; which means He never changes, and neither does His love.

xo

jess

Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls! (Hebrews 12:1-3 MSG)

mountain/valley metaphors are overused

I had four warts on my hand removed the other day.

I know.  Nasty.

But before you get all grossed out on me, let me assure you that they were really small.  Other people barely even noticed them.  But I think we can agree that warts (I loathe that word) are things we're all better off without.

It was actually pretty cool how the doctor did it.  She took a can of liquid nitrogen (sounds so fancy) and sprayed the spots until the skin was frozen.  After two rounds of that, I was good to go.  With a bit of a sore hand, mind you.

What she didn't tell me is that the skin would begin to blister in all the treated spots.  The blister is actually what removes the wart; it lifts the affected skin to reveal new, healthy skin underneath.  By the end of the day, I had four lovely blisters on my right hand that looked more like warts than the warts had.  Wonderful.

That was on Wednesday.  It's Monday now AND THE BLISTERS ARE STILL THERE.  Merrrr.  I can't wait for them to finally heal so my hand can look normal again, which has been the goal the whole time.

But it got me thinking.  Things sometimes get worse before they get better than before.  The mere fact that you're in a valley means that if you just keep walking, you'll eventually find yourself on a mountain with a beautiful view, stronger and wiser than before.

Don't give up in the valley.  I know the mountain/valley metaphor is a little over-used, but isn't that how life feels sometimes?  But why lose momentum in the valley when that's the most important place to gain it?  If you've ever ridden a bicycle, you'll know that if you're going fast enough before the hill, you'll have enough speed to get up the hill once you're on it.

So give someone a genuine smile.  Send a card to someone you appreciate.  Take a skip around the block.  Sit back and rest in God's presence.  He wants to be with you and in His presence is fullness of joy.  He knows you'll reach a happy place eventually.

xo
jess

the obligatory introduction

Welcome to the Onion Milk blog!

My name is Jesseca.  I travel.  I drink coffee.  I don't know what kind of music I like.  I have a freckle smack dab in the middle of my chin.  If you want to talk, I want to listen.  If you want to laugh, stick with me, kid.

I'm creating this blog because sometimes journaling isn't quite enough.  I like to tell stories and take pictures, so I'll throw in a few of both just to keep things interesting.

If you're wondering, I'm from Denver.  I've traveled a little and hope I get to travel a lot some day.  I spent a week in Albania and Germany in 2011, and lived in Africa for two months this past April-May (Uganda and Kenya).

Why is this blog called Onion Milk?  Such a silly name, you say.  Well, as the story goes, one day while I was slicing some onions at work, I noticed that each one was leaving behind a little milky puddle on the counter.  I googled it, of course, and found that this 'milk' is a sign that the onion is fresh and full of flavor and vitamins.  Kind of like the way weird stuff happens in life but it ends up proving that the best things in life come in unexpected packages.

So there you have it.

xo
jess

You can stalk me on instagram:
@jessheartslove

One of my favorites from a Nairobi shopping center.