the aftermath.

i am still in state of shock. yet i have a weird sense of peace. and faith really. perhaps this is because i know that westmont is a community of people who will overcome. a community that holds strong convictions and priorities. westmont is a place that will join together and become closer than ever through the heartache, the discomfort and the destruction. when i heard reports of students having jam sessions and worshipping in the gym, i thought to myself "they would. so typical. got to love it." we do that at westmont. make the best of a situation and think "hey what a great time to hang out with my friends, worship and pray together." every time the power went out at westmont when i was a student, the community was closer than ever. major bonding happens in the darkness. some of the sweetest moments happened in those times. that is westmont for you. i am so impressed with how they handled everything. calm. prayerful. prepared. i spoke with several friends thursday night during the fire, and they were calmer than i. "we're great jeff. just chllin' in the gym. joel is right next to me and he got some great photos" - Rita. haha. he would. gosh, i adore my family down there and strangely, i feel knitted ever closer to them through all this. and my love and appreciation for westmont has grown.

one of the things i have been reflecting on over the past 48 hours is the idea and meaning of place. after hearing that everyone was safe, i mourned the loss of all those places. those buildings. those trees and bushes. i was literally heartbroken to see photos of my precious bamboo forest in a heap of ashes. place means something to us. it gives us context. it provides somewhere to house our memories. some tangible thing to associate with a moment. i think of some of my most profound memories at westmont, and i can't separate them from a specific place. when i was in training to be an RA, we had devotional times each morning. we would all spread out around campus to find solitude and see the Lord. each morning i crawled amidst the bamboo forest and perched myself right in the middle. it became my secret spot for the rest of my time at westmont. i love that bamboo. and i can't tell you how many photos i took in those formal gardens. how many sweet moments i had walking through them. so happy they went untouched for the most part. then of course, there is the beautiful little prayer chap. i spent countless hours with my face in that read carpet. we cried out to God for the children of uganda for 40 hours in those pews. my last rhetoric class was there. the thought of that building burning down was nauseating. and when i heard it made it through, i was so relieved. if i feel this way about bamboo, flowers, and an old prayer chapel, i can't even imagine what it must be like to lose your home. sure, much of the "things" can be purchased again and the walls can be rebuilt. but the physicality of the home is nonetheless significant and the lose of it is devastating. we cannot undermine or deny that. it would venture so say it is normal and perhaps healthy to mourn the loss of that collection of recipes from your grandmother. the favorite sweater or your wedding dress. and yes, in the grand scheme of things, all those possessions are that which moth and rust destroy, and yes we can thank our lucky stars that no one was hurt, but still, it totally sucks. it is heartbreaking. unimaginable. devastating. to see my second home up in flames, broke my heart. westmont, both the physical place and the people, is part of who i am. family. home.

yet i have faith that we shall overcome. "great is thy faithfulness, morning by morning new mercies i see..." westmont, you are in my thoughts and prayers. and to all my former professors and RD, may the Lord sustain you through this time. you are a treasured part of my life and our community. blessings my beloved friends...

fire.

this evening i received news of a fire in santa barbara. i hopped on the net to see what was up only to find out that it was westmont and the hills and homes of montecito that were ablaze. i was (and am) shaking. frozen. scared. my heart sunk and began to beat more quickly at the same time. i called my friends and former classmates. everyone is safe. and in surprisingly good spirits. i am a mess. yet reminded of something very powerful. westmont is a community built on so much more than a montecito hillside. it is built on an unshakable faith in christ. built on friendship. love. hope. joy. it is a place full of amazing people who want nothing more than to learn and to become more christ-like individuals. who strive to make the world a better place and who answer the call that our creator has on our lives.

i grieve for the losses though. the burned tress, historic buildings, and peoples' homes. peoples' homes!!! ugh, i can't imagine. my heart goes out to Mark the RD and his family who lost their home in the blaze. and to the students who lost their belongings. not to mention that countless others who lost their homes. it is tragic. unbelievable. and terrifying. my prayers are with all of my fellow westmonters, friends, brothers and sisters. you are so dear to my heart and i am so grateful that you are safe. praise jesus. we must continue to pray people. never cease. and remember... "great is thy faithfulness. morning by morning..."

a new day.

today is a new day. a historical day. a day filled with hope. a day that marks the beginning of a new era and era of change. barack obama will be the 44th President of the United States of America. he is the first African American elect and the first (I think) to successfully use the power of the internet to mobilize, inform and empower the masses. his campaign was powerfully effective and his strategy and thougthfulness throughout the process remarkable. i don't care who you are, or what your political affliations and ideas are, this is a historical and profound moment in our country. just stop and think for a moment how far we have come.

"This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that's on my mind tonight's about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She's a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing: Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.

She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn't vote for two reasons -- because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.

And tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America -- the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.

At a time when women's voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.

When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs, a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "We Shall Overcome." Yes we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination.

And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change.

Yes we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves -- if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment." - Barack Obama's Victory Speech

powerful words. and an insightful reflection on what was and what is to come. i along with many others am proud today. proud to be an American. and i am excited. and hopeful. hopeful and confidant in where we are and the future that lies ahead. i think we are at a good place in American and in politics today and i am anxious to see how the next four years pan out.

we must remain involved, supportive, active and vigilant. and we must pray. pray for direction, wisdom, peace and grace over our country and our government. and our new president.