Jessica Latshaw

musician. writer. dancer.

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Better than lists, guys. 

Posted By on September 1, 2016 in I Lift My Eyes Up, Loved Ones, there are pictures here, Thoughts and Feelings | 0 comments

Piers Park, East Boston

As a girl, someone told me to write down every little thing I want in a husband–down to the freckles on his nose–and then, voilà!, there he would appear, my list personified; My Perfect Person (no pressure or anything) sent straight from God. 


I think that our desires matter (I think freckles on noses matter less). And I also think that expecting God to be some Western idea of a juke box or a McDonald’s dollar menu cheapens God’s role to that of simply doing whatever we want. Like a genie or something, held captive to our whims. 

I think we should dream hard and we should never settle. And I don’t think it’s mutually exclusive to, at the same time, allow that maybe, just maybe, God is planning something better than we can even ask or imagine. I like that idea. My life is proof of this idea. I never thought I’d marry a guy from New Jersey. A guy on the radio. A guy who is such a complex mix of hilarious and kind and brilliant and inspiring and quirky and hard working and wonderfully self-possessed and quiet in groups because, unless he’s behind the mic, he’s not drawn to the center of attention. I never thought I’d marry someone who’s earned my respect with every single day I’ve known him. He challenges me to live my best life and he’s from New Jersey, and I know now that’s a lovely state, but I always thought of it as a turnpike and I never would’ve put New Jersey on my list as a kid dreaming up her husband. 

But man, God knew something I didn’t. 

(Okay, so God knows a lot of things I don’t.) 

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