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A CHANCE

/ jessicaivaska / 2 Comments

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There are people you meet who change the direction of your life. Today I found out one of those people passed away. And while there is sadness, it’s almost entirely eclipsed by gratitude.

I met Rob at an interview for a non-existent job. I had recently decided to try to make a go of it as a freelance writer (which I never would have done without the support of my husband, Erik). I spent hours on craigslist and job sites looking for writing gigs to build my resume. But Erik is more strategic than I am. He didn’t get distracted by one-off paychecks but has the gift of looking a bit further ahead. He’s the one who saw the posting.

A company was looking for a writer, a graphic designer and a proofreader – all in-house positions. Because I matched up with some of the criteria, Erik encouraged me to put together a proposal for them. I did, and sent it to the Creative Director, Rob. He graciously met with me and told me that he believed I had talent. (Those words were the first gift he gave me.) Then, he told me because I wasn’t interested in full-time work they didn’t need me at the moment, but would keep my information on file.

I left thinking I wouldn’t hear from him again. But a few weeks later, I did.

He said if I agreed to come in and train in-house for two weeks, they would try me freelance. I accepted, and the chance he gave me changed my career path.

Rob didn’t make me a writer, but in that moment he affirmed that I already was one. By taking a chance on me he told me that maybe my crazy dream wasn’t so crazy after all.

I worked with him for a just a few years before moving on to another organization doing similar work. I learned so much from him. His willingness to take a chance on me helped make me the person I am today.

He didn’t have to take a meeting with me.

He didn’t have to look at my clips.

He didn’t have to hire me.

But he did.

Because he was willing to take a chance on me, my life changed.

I don’t know who the “Robs” in your life are. But I know you have them. I hope as you picture them you smile and are inspired to keep an eye out for the people in your life who need what you can give them: a chance.

CURTAINS

/ jessicaivaska / 4 Comments

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Pulling the curtains open was hard this morning. Not because they are awkwardly behind our aging sectional, but because I didn’t really want to open them.

There are days when I leave them closed, and the light never pours and puddles on the scratched coffee table.

But today, I made myself.

I made myself because I knew that I needed to let the light in. I’ve been feeling down lately. And when life feels heavy, it’s easier to stay in a cocoon. To take longer lying in bed, to leave the curtains closed, to wear stretchy pants and put your hair in a messy bun.

Part of the reason I’ve been feeing out of sorts is I’m a gal who craves connection. Not the surface, small-talk kind, but the deep kind. That kind that makes you feel like you matter because the conversation matters.

The other side of that coin is that I’m private. I want that connection, I long for it, but I’m not the best judge of when it’s appropriate to go there, and who it’s safe to go there with. So, in this house on a busy street with a bus stop on the corner, I often keep my curtains closed. It’s a way to protect myself. To stay private, safe, contained.

Except – why is there always an “except?” – then I stay stuck in darkness (or worse, artificial light).

So today, I did it. I opened the curtains. I let the light in. Yes, there will be people passing by my gate peering in all day. I don’t like it. But to let the light, in I realize I have to let those people in, too. We were created to be in community. Even if that community is just a nod to the neighbor or a kind smile, it matters. It’s the light. The light that we all need, whether we realize it or not.

I don’t know that tomorrow will be any different. I don’t know that I’ll feel more connected or more at peace. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that today I opened the curtains. Did you?

BUILD IT

/ jessicaivaska / 4 Comments

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I’ve been thinking about Noah lately. Noah from the book of Genesis. I like to think I could be like him, but when push comes to shove, I’m not sure I’m strong enough.

How about you? Could you be Noah?

God called him to do something utterly and completely crazy.

We teach it to children with a bit of a sing-song lilt, focusing on the happy ending when most of the story isn’t happy at all.

God tells Noah He’s going to flood the earth to destroy all of humanity. All of it. Except Noah’s family if he follows God’s call.

That call? To build a boat. A giant boat. A boat that was about 450 feet long.

I can see Noah’s neighbors laughing at him behind their hands. Rolling their eyes at the religious fanatic they dismissed as crazy.

But does having a call make your crazy? Sometimes I think it’s the most sane thing in the world. That we all have a call, a unique task – something we have to build. It takes bravery and faith to do it, especially when it’s something as outrageous as building an ark.

Some say that before the flood it had never rained on the earth. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but if it is, that only adds to the ridiculousness of Noah’s task.

I wonder if Noah ever had second thoughts. If he considered never nailing those first few cypress boards together. Or if he wanted to quit halfway thorough.

The truth is, it doesn’t matter. Noah did build the ark, and because of that, you and I are here today. We come from his line. God used him to rescue all of humanity.

Noah’s crazy task had a purpose. No matter what anyone else thought, he fulfilled his call.

I want to be like Noah. I want to have a direct call from God and faithfully put in the effort to complete it. But I think I care too much what people think. I want to fit in and only stand out for good reasons. For accolades. Not because I’m weird, or crazy, but because everyone wants to be like me.

I’m pretty sure while Noah was building the Ark no one wanted to be him. But once the door closed and the rain started falling in heavy, thick drops, I bet they had second thoughts. At the end of the day, Noah wasn’t crazy. He was a hero. Why? Because he followed his call.

God said build it, and he did.

In that case, I want to be as crazy as Noah. I hope we all can be. I hope we can become more willing to be used for something bigger, and ignore the snickers and stares we get as we live out our callings—whatever it might.

 

 

DO SOMETHING

/ jessicaivaska / 1 Comment

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I know you’ve done it. I have, too. In fact, I’ve done it more than I can count. I always thought it was a good thing. That is, until I realized it could be better.

Phrases like, “Let me know if you need something.” And, “Is there anything I can do to help?” roll out of our mouths when friends, loved ones and church family are hurting.

It’s a way we show compassion.

I think most of the time when we say it, we mean it. Truly and deeply. We want to help, but we don’t know what to do. That’s where I’ve often landed in those situations. But now, having been through enough difficult times in my own life, I realize that saying something is a great start — and if that’s all you can do, that’s ok. Do that.

But if you really mean it, if you really want to make a difference and show someone they aren’t alone. Don’t just say you’re willing, actually do something. (Check out James 2:15-16.)

If you’ve ever lost a loved one, a job, a home, or a relationship, you know that grieving is complex. It hits you when you least except it and stays with you like the damp air of Seattle winter rain.

It also paralyzes you. Even if you’ve had 11 friends say, “Call me if you need anything,” you feel abandoned. Picking up the phone to ask for help seems impossible. You just can’t do it. Or maybe you won’t. When you’re hurting, when you’re really in the thick of it, asking for help feels like a step too far.

So I have an idea: Do something. Ok, so that idea isn’t really mine. But it’s something I believe we can all work at.

If you hear of a friend in crisis, show up. It’s that simple.

Don’t just say you are there for them, be there for them.

Stop by Starbucks, order a drink you know they’ll like and take it to them. Bring them flowers and stay to talk for half an hour. Better yet, bring a meal – enough for their family and yours.

Separated by the span of an ocean or mountains or miles of freeway? Don’t let that stop you. Call them. Don’t text, call. Set up a Skype date. Write them a letter. Be with them. Grieve with them. Show up for them. Don’t just say something, do something.

Actions really do speak louder than words.

Oh, and one other thing. Don’t put if off. Grief and pain don’t expire, but are most raw at the beginning. Don’t tell yourself you’ll call later and drop a meal off. Make a plan and then do it. Everyone is busy. Everyone has other things to do. But if we’re too busy to love each other in the most practical ways, where does that leave us?

I’m going to work on being better at doing something. I hope you’ll join me. Imagine how different our lives and world could be.

I’ve been seeing it in action at our new church and it’s amazing.