I finished another book - which means I am still just two books behind for my 12 books in the year goal. WOOT. (By the way, that goal sounds absolutely ridiculous - one book / month - that’s totally weak sauce. But I guess since I work full time, and invest in people and ministries, and have a tv habit that we won’t address right here right now, one book per month is attainable and we don’t want to dream big and not hit it out of the park…I’m in the run a 1k club after all…).
Last weekend I went to visit my parents at Carlsbad State Beach - one of my very favorite places on earth - and I read an entire book while I was away (for a whopping 22 hours mind you). You can either call me a fast reader, or I can wholeheartedly admit that the book was a breeze. It’s 352 pages so way to go me…except that it’s at a 5th grade reading level… so, there is that! ha! My friend Shan had loaned me “The Thing About Jellyfish” and since it’s fundamentally about processing death from the perspective of a Junior High student, and I work with teenagers who have been touched by the foster system, I decided to invest the time. It was heartfelt and endearing and also provided perspective on how to ask potentially helpful questions and really come alongside in a time of sorrow or moment when things just do not make sense.
So much of life is harder and heavier than we think and explaining death to a junior higher is nonsensical. The key takeaway for me was this moment in the book when the central character felt totally unheard and unseen in the midst of the chaos. She had just lost her best friend and as she was grappling to try and understand, the explanation her mom gave was, “these things just happen.” While the statement may have been true enough - to a broken and shattered little heart - that wasn’t an answer - she was shut down and shut out. So she chose to stop sharing - she chose silence and started to navigate her grief and her emptiness alone - searching for answers in her own way. There is part of me even in adulthood that totally relates - there have been these moments when I feel like I’ve been screaming and begging someone to understand and finally it just clicks - no one hears me - so I contemplate how good it would feel to just disappear - to just run away and shut everyone out and choose silence. In a more mature and comprehensive space, we can take a moment and do some soul-searching and self care and come to the realization that perhaps that isn’t the healthiest approach - but for this sweet little junior high girl who was so overwhelmed by the swirling, it was the only option that was graspable.
I definitely do not miss junior high. Those were some of my least favorite years for so many reasons - from awkwardness to lost friendships to Y2K - it was all a big nightmare. So if you have a couple hours and you’re up for flashbacks of some really bad bangs and rompers that were NOT in style - pick it up. I think it’s worth the read!
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