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...