Author’s Gab, Reader Talk.
A letter to you, the reader, so that you can finally figure out what I’m thinking.
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This Month: Waiting
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Dear Readers,
It’s November. Last month was October. Next Month is December. But, can I mention, November is a month that I never liked? I will anyways.
November is a month that I never liked because it’s, very simply, in between October and December. It’s like May, which is not quite summer and not quite spring, except it’s not quite fall and not quite winter. Where I live, in November, it gets really cold and dark. The weather looks like it’s going to spit out winter any minute, but it doesn’t. Simply, for this reason, I know people who actually get really depressed during this time. You can’t go outside without a coat, and as you drift back and forth between school and work, everything just seems BLAH, dark and dark, like the weather. Don’t play your Christmas music yet because it’s not even Thanksgiving yet. Don’t cut down your roses because they’re still blooming, even as dead leaves gather at their bases. Don’t start doing anything but what you’re already doing because it’s just not quite the end yet (on the contrary, it’s more like the dead, boring, middle). That, friends, is the precise, acute reason why I never liked November: it’s unescapable waiting.
Ah, waiting. It seems that topic has been coming up a lot in my life lately. Last I wrote you I was preparing fervently for a Parnassus submission. I submitted the final draft of “The Anatomy of a Compound Microscope”, along with “After We Broke Up” to Parnassus, knowing full well that I wouldn’t hear back until sometime in November. It’s about the middle of November and I’m still waiting for a response. I assure you, the minute I hear back you will hear as well, but for now, we wait.
And again, I am still hammering out an existence at school. But, really, no matter how much I love learning, there comes a point where all I’m really doing is waiting for this semester to be over. I’m so sick of school. I went in to see my councilor the other day to sign up for my classes for next semester and came out thinking about why I just did that. I told myself that a vacation, didn’t I know far too well, was long overdue. And then I reminded myself, that I just did that because I’m attempting to get my degree, so I can get a job, so I can make a difference in this world and live to tell about it.
But the thought came to me just then, “Ya, really, so you can be chained to life like everybody else? Why not escape?” And oh, I tell you, in the moment it seemed ever so appealing, just to run and run and run from life and never come back. But I know, as do many people, that’s not how that works.
I had a close friend of my family die just this week. I will not hide; I am a firm believer that Jesus Christ is God, who became Man, to seek and save humanity from their wrongs against God. I know that this woman believed the same thing. I have had people try and comfort me. They tell me that Razie, as she was called, is in heaven with Jesus, so I should rejoice. And, even though my soul is grieved by her parting, I know this to be true. I find, however, that, even as my soul grieves her passing, this is a fine example of waiting.
I know Razie is at peace with Jesus. From what I knew of her, she was, in life, an old woman with a young soul. There are many times when she may have wanted to run, escape life, but she waited. I have heard stories of her having to battle life, which always seemed to contradict her seemingly alive personality. She died from a battle she could not win: terminal cancer. And yet, I can sense that she waited for this moment: the incredible escape of coming to rest in heaven, the paradise of Jesus Christ’s arms around her, welcoming her to the Father. Living, thus, is only waiting. Dying, thus, is only gaining.
I recently had a conversation with a good friend of mine who I hadn’t spoken to in quite some time. As we where saying goodbye, the conversation ended like this:
“Ok, I guess we’ll catch up more later. I would love to hear more about what’s going on in your life.”
“Oh, haha, it’s nothing really. Just the mundane, you know.”
“Haha! Oh friend, there’s ALWAYS something going on beneath the mundane!”
I search my soul. I pick up my pen. I feel the caged lion roar for freedom inside of me. I begin to write. I believe what my friend has said.
Therefore, I think, I don’t like November only because it makes me more acutely aware of true living. Life is a boring cycle of waiting that occasionally needs an emergency epinephrin of false excitement… or divine intervention. I had my councilor tell me that the only way to get rid of what I call “school apathy” was to infuse my school experience with renewal. I think of last November, when I really was renewed in God for the first time ever, and I think of how my councilor’s right. The only way to live, to fight feeling like you’re waiting, is to battle it with inspiration and some sort of renewal. Truly, I will be done waiting when God calls me home in death (not so scary if you think about the waiting being over), and not before that.
But, if, by now, you are scratching your head, thinking to yourself, “I thought this Ad Lib was supposed to be about writing”, don’t fret. It IS about writing. Sometimes, I think to myself that life is a story in itself. Perhaps, today, I have simply told you about what I have gleaned from a piece of writing, some art called life. That is, after all, where I take my writing from. It is the rawest source of writing that there is. I mean, this is what artists do: they take life and mold it into something physical. Life is waiting, waiting is writing, and writing is art. Fear no art. LIVE. It’s the greatest piece of writing there is, and a test without match.
As to the actual, physical art itself, I have refrained from publishing anything yet. I swear, however, if I had something publish-worthy, it would be up. I am anticipating a response from Parnassus soon. As I have said, however, waiting has dominated my life this month. Writing has been no exception.
I stop here, if only to say what God has related to me and my pride countless times since I have wanted to leave OCC, since I have wanted to stop writing, since I have lived: “Not just yet. Hold on. Consider what direction you want to take, what direction I Am wanting you to take. Just wait.”
Thank you for reading. More to come. God bless.
In Christ Jesus,
Your Writer,
Jessica A. McLean
The Rose 