Once the sparkle of a new year hits the ground and we stare into our cold future, that is January, a dark shadow begins to follow me. Once again I have started a new year without my best friend, Jessie.
15 years ago death separated the inseparable and I received one of my deepest emotional scars. It's been so long, that when I think back on precious memories Jessie and I shared, I often find myself in denial that Jessie and I were ever close. Wow. Not close? Good grief. Anyone who knew us, knew that we were practically attached at the hip! Phone calls, sleepovers, trips to the mall, rollerblading, pool parties, youth group, mission trips, road trips, movies, baking, singing, dancing... there's a lot two girls can do in 10+ years of friendship. 15 years is a long time to be separated and time has made our relationship feel distant and faded.
Jessie and I were like DJ and Kimmy from Full House, Corey and Shawn from Boy Meets World, Meredith and Christina from Grey's Anatomy... and to use a Grey's Anatomy quote, Jessie was my person. She was the first person I called when I had something (or nothing) to talk about. We were so comfortable in each other's homes that, given the opportunity, we'd answer each other's home phones -- yes, I'm talking land lines. When she called and I picked up the phone, she'd dive right into conversation because she recognized my voice -- and vice versa. We'd mail each other post cards and buy each other souvenirs when we went on vacation, we'd work every angle to get a last-minute sleepover, we'd attend each other's family parties, and we'd make special arrangements to call each other Collect when on vacation. Yeah, I know... we spent a lot of time on the phone.
Now, before you read any further, take a moment and watch this home video featuring me and Jessie.
We were both 15 years old when we made that video. Yep... that is what 15 years looks like.
15 years and I still miss her. Truth be told, I'm sure I'll never stop missing her. I'm sure there are many people out there who will think I just need to "get over it" and "move on," but I'd challenge each and every one of those people to take their best friend and imagine their future without him/her. Better yet, think about your best friend and imagine what your life would be like if he/she hasn't been a part of it for the last 15 years. Hurts, doesn't it? Life would be different and surely you'd feel like part of you was missing.
Every January I close my eyes and I can feel the cold air brush against my face as I departed from our most recent youth group meeting -- the last time I would see Jessie awake. I listen to songs that we used to sing together and I can still hear her voice singing along. I look at photos of her and when I gaze upon her bright smile I can hear her laugh.
I often wonder how different my life would be if Jessie was still with us. So much has happened and I can't help but feel annoyed that she's not here to share such special moments with me. I share the same Jessie stories over and over because I don't have any new ones. Every time I mention Jessie, I have to mention her in a past tense. Easily said... it sucks.
Every time January rolls around, I start replaying her accident, her time in the hospital, and her death over and over and over in my mind. I can still picture the hospital, the waiting room, and the moment Melanie couldn't look at me when she came to share the news of Jessie's latest brain scans. My mind begins to rapidly spiral out of control and before I know it, I'm drowning is a sea of what ifs.
Once my heart and mind are silent, God speaks. He reminds me of the kids who have gone to Phantom Ranch Bible Camp through our Something from Jessie scholarship. I picture chapel services during urban camp and the campers who fill the room to praise and worship God. They come to camp with bullet wounds and pregnant. They have parents who are drug dealers or are in jail for dealing drugs. They hear guns shots more often than an ice cream truck in their neighborhood. They don't always get three meals a day -- or even a single meal every day. Many are broken... many are scared... and many don't feel loved.
I am a selfish girl.
Every January I get caught up in missing my best friend and often I get sad/angry when I think about all that she has missed. Then, when I gather with Jessie's loved ones, we exchange Jessie stories and talk about the Something from Jessie scholarship. Since August 2001, we have been raising funds in Jessie's memory to send inner-city Chicago youth to Phantom Ranch Bible Camp -- the same camp Jessie and I attended as campers and worked as summer staff. While we can't help but miss Jessie, we also find joy in knowing that God has used her death to help others in need. A week of camp gives these inner-city kids three meals a day, a bed to sleep on (in a safe environment), an opportunity to try new things (skiing, horseback riding, etc.), and above all else, the chance to feel loved and accepted.
I cannot change the past, but I can move forward with peace in my heart knowing two important things (1) through accepting Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, I will see Jessie again, in heaven and (2) God can take any situation and use it for good, if you let Him. I may be broken, scarred, and imperfect, but God uses me.
Here is a song by Mandisa -- love her! We all have scars, but listen to this song and discover what your scars are for. It'll change the way you look at your scars, I promise.
Every time January rolls around, I start replaying her accident, her time in the hospital, and her death over and over and over in my mind. I can still picture the hospital, the waiting room, and the moment Melanie couldn't look at me when she came to share the news of Jessie's latest brain scans. My mind begins to rapidly spiral out of control and before I know it, I'm drowning is a sea of what ifs.
Once my heart and mind are silent, God speaks. He reminds me of the kids who have gone to Phantom Ranch Bible Camp through our Something from Jessie scholarship. I picture chapel services during urban camp and the campers who fill the room to praise and worship God. They come to camp with bullet wounds and pregnant. They have parents who are drug dealers or are in jail for dealing drugs. They hear guns shots more often than an ice cream truck in their neighborhood. They don't always get three meals a day -- or even a single meal every day. Many are broken... many are scared... and many don't feel loved.
I am a selfish girl.
Every January I get caught up in missing my best friend and often I get sad/angry when I think about all that she has missed. Then, when I gather with Jessie's loved ones, we exchange Jessie stories and talk about the Something from Jessie scholarship. Since August 2001, we have been raising funds in Jessie's memory to send inner-city Chicago youth to Phantom Ranch Bible Camp -- the same camp Jessie and I attended as campers and worked as summer staff. While we can't help but miss Jessie, we also find joy in knowing that God has used her death to help others in need. A week of camp gives these inner-city kids three meals a day, a bed to sleep on (in a safe environment), an opportunity to try new things (skiing, horseback riding, etc.), and above all else, the chance to feel loved and accepted.
I cannot change the past, but I can move forward with peace in my heart knowing two important things (1) through accepting Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, I will see Jessie again, in heaven and (2) God can take any situation and use it for good, if you let Him. I may be broken, scarred, and imperfect, but God uses me.
Here is a song by Mandisa -- love her! We all have scars, but listen to this song and discover what your scars are for. It'll change the way you look at your scars, I promise.
