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  • about
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a February 21st letter to a friend

10/25/2015

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I write a lot of letters. Sometimes, I'll snap a picture of one before I send it off to fly. I'm not sure why I don't do this with all of them, but I think I will start. Reading back through old letters, written in my own hand, is like watching a still-motion picture of what used to be. Old letters serve as unwitting journal entries. When I sit down to write, I'm never sure what will come out. The letters are never edited and rarely re-read before their envelopes are licked and sealed in wax. Writing is good therapy for verbal processors like me--and I wonder if half of the reason I keep a dozen pen pals is because I need them to help me help myself process. These pen-pal friends are extraordinary. It's like we've made an unspoken agreement that's something along the lines of: I'll be a vessel for your life-processing; you grab a pen and write your crazy down on paper, and I'll mull it over for you. I promise to continue to give you a reason to write...to continue to be a sure-fire acceptor on the other end of your thoughts and hopes and fears and dreams and book-learnings and inspirational quotes.

What a gift! 

Anyway, I was flipping through old pictures the other day and came across one of my rare photographed-letters. I'd like to share it, here.
My dear Friend,

I am writing this to you by candlelight, on an old wooden table whose old white paint is chipping off in a thousand places. I've pulled the leaf out so that my knees don't knock it. I think all letters should be written by Candlelight, either because it's early morning and the sun has not yet risen, or because it's late at night after the sun has already finished its job for the day. I think once the sun's done, maybe we should be too--as if her resting should cue ours...and that if we must work later than she, then Candles and Lamps are our holiest options. There is a peace that comes from writing next to a flickering flame--a peace that reminds me how one small light can shatter a thousand dark places...how all it takes is one little flame for the dark to be fought back and Light to win.

And then I think how, today, a little box showed up outside my front door, just before the rain started pouring from the heavens. A little box that arrived just in the nick of time for, had it arrived a few minutes later, its precious contents would have been soaked (we have no eves), and I would have been sad. Your little box was, for me, a flame. Unbeknownst to you, yesterday was the first time I've cried because of nursing school. I cried hot salty tears onto the concrete floor of the bathroom stall at the coffee shop where we were studying because SCHOOL IS HARD, and I do not feel like I am retaining one iota of the information I am so tirelessly pouring over. And then this morning I was sad because I finished my current book and don't have the emotional capacity or the finances to read the next two books on my list. So I sadly resorted to not having a book on my nighstand for a while. And I was also sad because I write one page in my pocket Moleskine every night and have since October 2012, and its pages are almost out, so it's almost time for me to order a new one on Amazon...but $10 is hard to come by right now.

And then your box showed up, the morning after the first day I've cried in nursing school...and the morning I finished my current book...and the morning I realized I need a new Moleskine soon.

there are no words 

adequate to express my delight and gratitude for that box...and for the sweet soul in Waco who thought to send it all this way. 

Thank You for being the kind of person you are. I like you in my life...and I always will.

Thank you for loving me well; and thank you for being a fellow broken-hearted sojourner. It's nice not being alone.

I love you, lady.

Love,
J
Picture
the Flame Box, containing a brand new moleskine with our favourite quote painted in cursive on the cover ("I am large; I contain multitudes."-Walt Whitman), a good book, a new favorite shirt from my favorite farm (World Hunger Relief Farm), and a letter. <3
NOTE TO ALL MY PEN-PALS, PAST AND PRESENT:
I would like to begin to compile all the letters I have *sent out* over the years. "That is quite a daunting and fairly impossible task, Jordan!" Yes, I know. But I'm going to give it a shot. I have put a lot of thought into a future project, and the project can only be completed if I can compile the vast majority of the letters I've written. 

SO, if you have saved even a single one of the letters I've written you, you have the capacity to help! I am requesting a copy of every letter of mine you have saved. You can either take pictures of them (front and back) and email/text/FB them to me, OR you can make a hard-copy copy of it and mail it to me. Be sure the date is visible--I need to be able to arrange them chronologically. 

If you haven't saved any of my letters, don't feel bad. For the love. I just happen to know that some of you *have* saved some of them, and therefore you can be of assistance. Love you forever.
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    hey, i'm jordan.

    wife to one, mama to four, bible-believing christian. 

    ​encouraging you in simple, wholesome, hearty, contented living.

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