Good Byes
Saying good-bye is never
always easy.
And expressing a good bye—
one filled with joy,
sending-off wishes,
and a real connection—
is always a gift.
In this entry,
I celebrate friendship
and the care and gratitude
that can bud over time.
I also invite you to join me
in reading a beautiful little book:
The Seamless Life.
Sending love and hope to you in these days.
x
PS While I think of these entries as sharing vignettes of my daily living,
and the poetry I find therein,
they are also in the context of conversations with you.
Is there something you appreciate or that your soul’s in need of
especially in these times?
Thank you to those that have recently joined this nest.
I would love to hear from any and all you:
jessie@birdandbabe.com
We met in IKEA.
Well, sort of.
We really met in church the next day,
when Meg came up to me and said,
“Excuse me, were you in the waiting room at IKEA?”
I guess we had been the couple they dubbed as
the belly and the bump.
As Meg and I chatted
that Sunday morning,
I learned that her husband Steve
was the newest addition
to Regent College,
my graduate alma mater.
We gathered our other halves
and walked to a nearby restaurant for lunch.
Heirloom.
Over the next three years,
a beautiful friendship would bud—
with dinners here and there
at our respective homes,
with them joining us (and others)
to dedicate our baby boy,
or with Meg occasionally caring for our young son
when I started doctoral work.
Of course, at Regent public events,
we also crossed paths
(as well as at our continued place of worship).
A handful of months ago,
they shared that they made
the tough choice to return home
to their home in
America.
A handful of months ago,
they shared that they made
the tough choice to move back
to their home in
America.
This was over dinner at ours.
We would get together a few more times here and there
—including sharing our
IKEA tools to help them dismantle their IKEA furniture—
that furniture they bought when we were all
in the waiting room years ago.
But perhaps my favorite was the good-bye picnic—
truly a good bye.
Byes done well.
Sometimes, exits or leaves or byes
can be hard for one reason or another—
but hopefully it never prevents a celebration,
a marking of the moment
for the specialness that one—or two—people bring and offer
the world.
Grace the world with.
Meg was a bright little grandmother-figure
when our grand mothers were down South,
over the border.
Steve was a lovely connection to academia
beyond my own nascent program—
inviting me into his graduate class
this past spring to be
a guest speaker/conversationalist
on embodiment.
(And ironically, this first time I spoke about embodiment
was over digital means!)
So thank you to you both
for presence,
for understanding joy and sorrow
are held together,
and that family can always be
found away from home
but never in lieu of.
May our friendship
be an heirloom to us
of our time in Vancouver.
x
As I learned more about Steve’s latest book
over our roasted chicken picnic,
I found myself inspired to purchase and read through
The Seamless Life.
And when it came in the mail,
my son Anselm insisted
we read it
(and then insisted that we “keep reading”
while we finished our lunch).
I invite you to join me
over the month of July
to digest a little bit each day
together.
To see what arises,
what speaks,
what reveals questions.
The essays are brief and ruminate on
the essence
of love, learning, worship, and work—as well as
their interwoven oneness—
a true tapestry.
Please let me know if you decide to follow along
and we can try and gather in a month
or so to connect!
x
Jessie
“Can business ever be just about business? Or politics just about politics? Or the arts just about the arts? Or education just about education?
The wisest wisdom has always said no.”