Peggy Olson...

Seven years ago I started watching Mad Men. On that first episode I was introduced to Peggy Olson. I didn't know it at the time, but Peggy was going to be one of those characters that settled into my very bones- Peggy was going to teach me something vital about myself. Tonight, seven years later, I watched the mid-season finale for the very last season of Mad Men and I couldn't take my eyes off Peggy.

See, I think most people assume Mad Men is about Don Draper. And of course we think that, because Don saunters into a room- shoulders back, whiskey in hand, suit- impeccable. Don owns the room- hell, Don is the room. And while we're all busy watching Don use that silver tongue of his to win clients and lie to his wife, we haven't noticed that Peggy walked into the room too. Peggy was just this girl who typed Don's schedule and made sure the bar in his office was stocked. She didn't know who she was or what she wanted. The words that were used to give value to women didn't apply to her: "beautiful," "mother," "sexy," "wife" and so Peggy spent a couple seasons trying to figure out what words did apply to her.

Over the years I've watched this girl stumble around like a newborn giraffe and the more she walked, the surer of herself she became. Each season Peggy stood a little taller, walked with a little more confidence and tonight she owned the room. As I listened to her pitch to a client I kept thinking about what she'd had to fight to get into that room. I thought about all the battles she'd been in just to earn a seat at the table and I was so proud of this fictitious character that my heart about burst.

It was smack in that moment of pride that I realized the imprint Peggy leaves on me because like Peggy, it took me a while to find my voice. Like Peggy the words society wants to use to add value to women don't necessarily apply to me, like Peggy I chose a profession that is largely dominated by men, and like Peggy it has taken quite a few stumbles before I figured out how to walk. I spent seven years watching Peggy succeed and fail, try and fall, and learn who she is. I hope someday I will look back on my own life and discover that my own stumbles helped wear a trail for those who will come after me.

Mary…

I have written and rewritten this blog a hundred times already. I'm not even completely sure that this version is going to make it out onto the ether. I have had this heavy load of emotions and thoughts and I've been wanting to set it down and try to make some sense of it. This particular weight has been hard to process. It's really hard to think about exposing these feelings. But here I am anyway, typing and exposing, hoping that the process of writing itself will help heal me.

This weekend I flew back home to California so that I could attend the funeral of a dear friend, Mary Cox. Mary is a main character in the story of my life. My family moved to Redondo Beach about twenty-five years ago so that my dad could be the senior pastor of St. Andrews. Mary, her husband Tom, and their four kids (Amy, Katie, Emily, and Kevin) were very involved members. Our families connected right away and became fast friends.

Amy was my regular baby-sitter, she let my brother and I jump on our parents' bed while we watched Newsies and there was literally no one in the world I thought was cooler than her. Katie, watched me a couple times as well, and I also thought she hung the moon. Emily was a year younger than me and my best pal. We terrorized our sunday school teachers (including trying to fire one, a story for another time), played handball, mermaids, and read baby-sitters club books. Kevin was my little brother's age and although he was never more than an annoyance growing up, he grew up to be someone that I respect, love, and cherish.

The Cox family was my family. Mary and my mom used to throw us all in the car weekly and take us to the beach. We vacationed to Palm Springs together. Every year we all spent a week at family camp, getting dusty and eating those Pine Valley delicacies. Tom and Mary always had a house full of us. We played ping-pong in their garage, ate salsa while trading stories in their kitchen, and they hosted more than their fair share of parties. Mary and Tom taught me how to make a card game an event. Playing hearts with them was not for the weak. That yellow house has seen it all.

Mary was a spitfire. It was said over and over at the memorial, but it bears repeating: that woman knew how to speak her mind. Gosh, this is something I wish I was better at. I'll never forget one Saturday I found myself over at the Cox's and I was waiting on Emily for something (I can't for the life of me remember what). I wandered into the backyard to talk to Mary. She was laying out in the sun, wearing her infamous blue and white polka-dot bikini. I sat next to her while she asked me about school, my relationship with God, and what I planned on doing with my life (I think I was probably around 10). I told her I didn't know and I must have said that too apathetically. Mary sat up, her short hair sticking in all directions and she proceeded to give me a lecture about using my life for something. She told me that my voice matters, that God gave it to me for a reason and I better not waste it.

Mary taught me a lot of things. She taught me how to make the world's best chocolate chip cookies (although, I do think Katie has improved upon that recipe if it's even possible). Mary taught me about fighting for what you want, whether it's a smaller dress size or a college education. She taught me what it means to really hold someone up. When Amy lost her sweet Leah, I watched Mary use every bit of strength in her to hold Amy up and when she first got her cancer diagnosis I watched as she gathered that strength again for her family.

A couple years ago, right after the diagnosis, I was standing in the Cox kitchen talking to Mary. I'd brought over dinner (because that's what we do when we don't know what to do) and she was thanking me. Once again, we got talking about life. She asked me about school (I was headed to seminary in a few months), boys (I had nothing of interest to note), and what I planned on doing with my life. I told her I wasn't sure and I hoped seminary would help me figure it out. She asked if I planned on getting ordained and I told her I wasn't sure. Then she looked me right in the eye and said, "Why not? God has given you a voice Chelsea and you better use it. We need more women in the pulpit. These men need us to point them in the right direction." I nodded, at the time not really thinking much of it. I was mostly shocked that we talking about me when she had much bigger things going on. I asked her how she was and she said she was fine (because that's what you say when you don't know what to say). She said she was worried about her family, she wanted to be there to make sure they'd all be ok and at the time we really didn't think she was going to be there for very long.

This past weekend our church was bursting at the seams to say good-bye to Mary. The church was standing room only. I sat in my pew and listened while people talked about her life and her legacy. I cried while we sang some of her favorite hymns and I laughed when we watched the slide show and I saw what joy she had in those pictures.

Tonight, as I sit on my bed, back in Seattle I can't help but think about my friend Mary. I can't help but think about the mark she leaves on my life. I think her legacy is two big things. The first is her family: Tom, Amy, Jeff, Tommy, Nic, and Kenny, Katie, Jeremy, and Owen, Emily and Mike, and Kevin, Colleen, and JP. The Cox Family- her family and my family. These are people that I can't imagine my life without and I love them with every little bit of me.

The second thing that Mary leaves me with is the knowledge that nothing in this world is as important as my faith. But Mary taught me that's got to be more than just showing up on Christmas and Easter. It means not wasting my life and using that voice of mine. A year from now I'll be graduating seminary and I plan on seeking ordination. I think Mary would be proud to know that she played an important role in helping me get there.

I love you Mary Cox- now and always.

hiding under the bed...

on days when the world is a little too cold and i just want to pull the covers over my head the following things always make me feel better. consider them the next time you need something comforting…

1. reading harry potter:
books have always been my bright light. sliding into old stories soothes my soul and helps calm me down. harry potter books are particularly good at this.

2. watching the west wing:
nothing is as comfy as listening to aaron sorkin dialogue and watching my favorite characters storm down hallways in the white house.

3. listening to my "moody mcmoodster" playlist:
included in this list is savage garden (no, i'm not ashamed), wakey!wakey!, U2, augustana, and jack savoretti.

4. cooking:
some of my best creations have come out of times when my spirit is all "swooshy." my favorite: parmesan mashed potatoes, you can thank me later.

5. snuggles with my pup:
self-explanatory

Long Time, No Write...

Hi Blog,
It's been much too long since I settled myself in your arms. It's not that I haven't had anything to say or that big things haven't been happening. But I guess, I was doing my best to sort through those things without having to do the messy work on the interwebs. But tonight I think I just may have words to splatter upon the soft glow of your screen. I'm not sure that there's any sort of cohesion for this post. So my suggestion is to hold tight and try not to get too dizzy from my transitions.

I'm turning 30 in a month. A MONTH! Geez. I have this very specific memory of dancing around my room at ten singing at the top of my lungs to Tina Turner and thinking about how far away my twenties seemed. And now, here I am about to abandon them. I can't believe it. I find that I'm holding a very mixed bag of emotions, because I like my emotions nice and tidy I've decided to do my best to sort them out. So I'm about to bestow upon you the first of two lists. Tonight I'm going to list our twenty things I learned in my twenties. You're going to have to wait a couple weeks for my list of "30 hopes and wishes my 30's!"

20 in my 20's:

20. My twenties taught me that adventure doesn't look like it does in the movies. I learned that adventure isn't just taking an epic road trip with your friends or flying off to Paris to stop the love of your life before they get married. Adventure can be quiet decisions. Adventure can be sticking it out in a relationship that's headed south. It can be getting lunch with a friend who needs you or even getting a dog. In my twenties, my greatest adventure was enrolling at SPU to finish my undergrad. Getting my Bachelors began the wildest adventure my twenties would ever see.

19. Good friends give as much as they take. This was a hard lesson to learn and I didn't figure it out until I was already well into the twenties. But somewhere around twenty-four or twenty-five I realized that the people who love me deeply, completely, and unconditionally were offering me something. The friends that are forever didn't expect me to do or be anything that I wasn't. Thank God for them.

18. My parents aren't perfect, but that doesn't mean they're horrible either. In my "growing up" years I thought my mom and dad hung the moon. I believed they were superhuman parents who had zero flaws and existed solely to love and provide for me. My teens became a time where I thought my parents were annoying and very, very uncool. But in my twenties I began to see "mom" and "dad" as "Jenny" and "Mark." I realized that they made mistakes, took chances, and sometimes fell flat on their face. But they also loved me desperately. They provided a much needed safety net and they encouraged me when it felt like the world was just a little too cold. Turns out my mom and dad are superheroes, but they fall into the "flawed" hero category.

17. I don't look good in the color grey. I don't know why it took me so long to come to terms with this. But I finally set aside all notions that I could pull off "grey."

16. Not all dreams come true. This particular lesson stung pretty badly when I realized it. I'm such a dreamer. Since I was a little girl I would spend hours in my head, dreaming up the great, big, shiny future I would live. One day I'd imagine myself living in New York writing wildly popular novels, another day I'd be a pop star or anchoring the update desk on SNL. In Jr. High I told all my friends my great, big dream was to win an Oscar. I think those dreams are wonderful and sweet. I think they helped shape the woman I am today. I also think they're incredibly unrealistic. Not all dreams come true, and sometimes the dreams we hold onto can make us miss the life we are actually living.

15. Living simply is my favorite way to live. My twenties taught me that I'm not someone who needs to buy a big house and fill it with "stuff." There's nothing inherently wrong with "stuff." But in my twenties I learned that for Chelsea, the best life is one where I'm not weighed down. My best life involves a passport, a pup, and a phone (so I can call those loved ones whenever I want and google directions).

14. People won't be able to guess what I'm thinking. I've wasted so much time being angry at my friends and family when they let me down. 90% of those times were because I didn't speak up about a need I had. Oh gosh, thank the Lord Almighty that I've finally realized the only way to get my needs met is to speak up about them.

13. My music collection is made infinitely better because of 90's hip hop. Prior to my twenties my music collection was mostly country, pop, 80's anything, classic rock, and a smattering of weirdly, dark alternative. But in my twenties I discovered the joys of Sir-Mix-A-Lot, The Roots, Coolio, Lauryn Hill, Jay-Z, and of course Notorious BIG. Thank you 20's for opening my eyes!

12. My decisions have consequences and sometimes those consequences are bigger than I thought they'd be. This lesson was kind of a double-edged sword. On the one hand sometimes those consequences are great, like I decide to go off-roading with the Hellinga brothers on a whim and have one of the best weekends of my life. But sometimes those consequences are bad and have serious ripple effects, like I decide to lie about something and really hurt someone I love. My 20's taught me that the decisions I make (big and small) come with consequences, so I should do my best to choose carefully.

11. I come with unique gifts, talents, and quirks that no one else has. My twenties helped me to see that I don't want to be a cut-out of what Hollywood or society thinks an "interesting woman" looks like. I'm just me. I'm the me that makes up songs, loves to cook, and can preach the Word like it's going out of style. I'm the me that's weird, funny, and sings at the top of her lungs in the car. Yes, there are plenty of things about myself that need softening or extracting all together. But overall I'm a pretty badass, awesome woman- my twenties taught me that.

10. Heartache is unavoidable, even if you don't put yourself out there. I spent so much of my teens and twenties hiding from romance because I was convinced no one would ever want me. I believed with every fiber of my being that I was one of those "she's like my sister" girls (side note: MEN: THIS IS NOT A COMPLIMENT). So I didn't speak up when I like a boy. I didn't put myself out there, because I figured if i wasn't playing the game I couldn't get thrown out of it. I figured if I didn't hold out my heart, no one could break it. This, sadly was not true. Hearts are just too fragile to go a lifetime without pain or aches. In my twenties I learned that it's better to go big and go home, than to stay home and eat ice cream (this is solid advice and should be embroidered on a pillow).

9. Having friends of all ages, from a variety of backgrounds, with diverse beliefs is the only way to really, truly live. In my 20's I started to see that if ALL of my friends were locked in a room together for 24 hours they would get in a lot of fights. There would be blood between the democrats and republicans. The USC fans would attack the UCLA fans, and I'm positive that my seminary friends would offend someone. This is the best. As soon as I was able to see that diversity made my life richer I worked to collect even more variety in my friends. I am made better by the wide range of voices that speak into who I am.

8. A sad song and a little bit of wallow is necessary sometimes. I do not understand the whole "stiff, upper lip" theory. There are times when I need a good cry, my journal, and a Tori Amos song. Wait, scratch that. I don't like enough Tori Amos music to use her as my example. New try: There are times when I need a good cry, my journal, and an Eric Clapton song. Wallowing is ok. I don't have to plaster a smile on my face and fake it till I make it. Throwing the covers over my head and refusing to face the day is a perfectly acceptable response to sadness and grief.

7. There are days when wallowing is self-indulgent and unacceptable. I know that it seems #7 is in conflict with #8, but trust me on this one. My twenties also taught me that there are times when I need to shake it off. Part of living on this planet with other people is learning that there are times when it is not about me and what I need. I don't have to say every, single thing that crosses my mind (such a hard lesson to learn). I don't have to get my "me" time. If I'm going to be a real person, a person who loves others and contributes to this world we live in than I accept that there are times when I will have to give from an empty place.

6. I love the outdoors. This lesson kind of threw me. I discovered in my teens that I'm a lover of architecture, museums, and big cities. But in my twenties I learned that I also love long walks, open spaces, and camping. This world is full of beautiful sunsets and breathtaking vistas. As it turns out, I'm someone who wants to see said vistas. Shocking.

6. When I'm angry I need space to figure out why. Living with me is not easy, just ask my current roomies Cassie and Bingley. Actually for that matter just ask any of the people who have ever lived with me, I think my dad ended up writing a dissertation on the difficulty of living with me. Prior to my 20's I thought that I had to dig my heels into every fight, yell whenever I was mad, and that leaving the room meant I was a hater of resolution. But my twenties taught me that I am someone who needs space when I get mad, so I can figure out why I am mad. This doesn't mean that I'm bad at conflict, it doesn't mean that I am incapable of offering an apology or changing my mind. It simply means that my brain needs an hour or two (or sometimes a whole evening) to sort itself out.

5. I'm a dog person. Go peruse my Instagram and this lesson will need no further explanation.

4. My favorite person to talk to on the phone is my brother. My brother is funny. He's "fall on the floor, pee your pants" funny. But he is at his comedic best on the phone. I love to listen to him tell me how he's keeping up with the Kardashians or the latest way he scared his wife by hiding in the bathroom. Thanks twenties for teaching me that I can be friends with my baby bro.

3. Growing up does not mean I have to reject my childhood. I had one hell of an amazing childhood. I had friends who are still in my life, great teachers, an awesome family, and a church that loved me with it all it had. I can grow up to be a mature adult and I don't have to assume that means the good stuff I was raised with loses it's power. If anything, that "good stuff" is a big reason why I am a self-sufficient, confident adult. My testimony may not have the "wow" factor of some, but it's bright and shiny in the best ways.

2. Loving someone is harder than I thought. In my twenties I worked with students and there were a couple of them who stole my heart (you know who you are). I wanted to be there for them in the way that pastors, friends, and family had been there for me. But when you commit to loving someone- to really love them, it asks something of you. Telling students that they can call you at 3am if they need to means you have to answer the phone at 3am. Being a steady force in someone's life means that you have to keep showing up even when they disappoint you or say something dumb. Mostly my twenties taught me that love is more about quiet humility than it's about flash.

1. The biggest lesson that I learned in my twenties was that I can trust myself. The 20's seemed to pound out the little voice in my head that told me I couldn't trust me. I learned that I have valuable instincts and that when I believe in myself there really isn't any mountain I can't climb (gross, that sentence should come with a motivational poster)! I know my voice now and I trust it enough to follow it.

sharing the weight...

i've waited a few weeks to post this blog and i'm not exactly sure why. i know the things i'm about to write were things i wanted to share, but i think the idea of sending these words out into the abyss seemed a little scary. so i write slowly, with caution, asking God to take my humble offering and make a meal of it.

towards the end of september i went to the doctor for a physical because of a pre-exisiting condition part of the physical involved me having an ultra sound a week after my original appointment. my ultra sound was seemingly routine, but a few days later when my doctor called with the results it seemed that things were not routine. she was concerned that perhaps my original pre-exisiting condition was a mis-diagnosis and that i had something much more complicated and scarier. she encouraged me to see a specialist and said she was no expert (being a GP) and that i should wait to worry till after seeing the specialist. yeah, right.

about a week and a half went by before i could get in to see the specialist and during that time i became a crazy person. i cried at the drop of a hat (literally, i dropped my beanie one morning and burst into tears). i suddenly became one of those people who trolls the internet for information and i made my mom listen while i rattled off every scary story i read. i was hurting, deeply. i was scared and sad and angry. when i am feeling vulnerable my first instinct is to crawl inside myself and hide. i am not a share-er. i do not let people in easily, it's just not in my nature. but because of some very important work that God has been doing in my life recently, i decided to ignore my instincts.

i gathered a handful of close family and friends together and told them what was going on. i asked for their support and prayers. i asked them to open their hands and help carry the weight that i'd been dragging around. amazingly, they did. i can't express in words how that healed me. years ago i had been betrayed by someone that i thought was a safe place and i had decided that trusting people was no longer an option. for years i'd been walking around on the earth carrying the anger and pain and distrust. it. was. exhausting.

trusting my friends and family with this very tender pain wasn't easy. a couple times i woke up in the middle of the night worried that i had made a mistake. but after a few days i leaned into their love and i felt so incredibly safe. they cried with me, prayed for me, and told me it was all going to work out. who knew that such simple acts would be so precious?

in the end, the specialist said my original diagnosis was correct. she believes that my GP just didn't factor in some other important variables when reading my scan. it was a roller coaster of a month but i think God took me on it so i would learn that he created me for community and i'm so glad he did!

full circle...

i'm currently soaring above oregon, letting this giant steel bird carry me home to seattle. i've missed my city and all of it's glorious trappings, but before this bird lands i thought i'd take the time to process through the great, big things God did the past few weeks in my old home.

i spent the last 3ish weeks in beautiful california. i got to see two of my dear friends get married (not to each other, but to the dashing young men they had found for themselves). emily and amy were truly the most beautiful brides. i feel so thankful that i got to cheer along as they spoke vows and kissed lips.

i also got to see the people that live in my heart, but not in my city. i got to have sushi dates with my christina and listen to all the things i've missed while living so far, far away. i went to pipeline and played mafia with all my favorite ragamuffins. and let's not forget that i had tacos! like real, wonderful, spicy tacos!! can we get a huge "AMEN!" for that please?

i spent time with my mom and dad. i loved getting to sit with them in the morning and listen to dad's stories about his golf game while the smell of my mom's coffee cake invaded my nostrils. there really is no where i feel safer than in our living room, laughing and talking and eating.

but the very best part of my trip was the last four days. i had the huge honor of being the speaker at our church's family camp. and while it was such a pleasure to get to share my heart and my thoughts with my church that wasn't what made the time great. here's what did: i played cards till the wee hours (well, at least what i consider the wee hours) with patrick and syd. i swam in the pool with sally while we talked about her amazing daughters who constantly surprise me with their big hearts and wise souls. i laughed till my stomach hurt while peter ranted about toddlers and tiaras. i engaged in the world's most chaotic water war and though i was soaked head-to-toe i feel that i fought valiantly. i watched angela conquer her fears and the high ropes course! i danced my tush off at disco night and listened with pride while tony melted our faces with his guitar playing. my boys kept me on my toes with their antics and they reminded me why i love them so much.

i had church! i was knee deep in community and it reminded me that my heart is fullest when it's living life with the people around me. i feel incredibly grateful that i got to spend this time with you sweet SAPC!

well, my metal bird seems to be headed back to earth, so i guess i should put my laptop away. i need to sleep like maybe 100 days before i'm recovered, but i'm so full of joy.

The West Wing...

the west wing is my favorite tv show ever. i mean ever. i own the entire series on dvd, watch it regularly and often, and still find it as enjoyable as i did the first time. i've decided to list out my top ten favorite episodes. this was a difficult process, but i think i've managed to do it. so without further ado, in no particular order, please to enjoy:

10. the crackpots and these women (season 1)
in this episode leo has set up appointments for each senior staff member to meet with a group that usually doesn't end up getting face time with the west wing. cj meets with an animal rights group that wants to build a wolves only hwy, sam meets a man who believes there's an alien spaceship headed toward earth, etc. meanwhile josh is given instructions on what to do in case of a major threat on the country and they don't sit well with him. this is one of my favorite episodes for a couple reasons. first, it is the first episode where aaron sorkin is making a statement about what government should be, rather than what it is. he's posing the question: what would our country look like if we took time to listen to a variety of voices? secondly, it's hilarious. the scene of cj bantering with this wolf group makes me laugh out loud every time. finally, this makes the top 10 simply because of two scenes: josh with his therapist and josh with cj. both scenes are some of bradly whitford's best acting in these series. they are subtle, powerful, and hugely emotional.

9. in the shadow of two gunman: parts 1 and 2 (season 2)
i'm cheating here and making counting two episodes as one, but whatever. it's my blog, i make the rules. two gunman have shot at the president and his staff as they exit a building. in these opening episodes for season 2 we flash between how the white house is handling the emergency and how the senior staff all got into their positions. these episodes are remarkable. they're understated, even while they're walking through an extremely dramatic storyline. they're quiet and yet by the end of the episode, i found myself incredibly moved by what i had just seen. one last thing, i think the MVP moment of these episodes is when donna first finds out that josh was shot. janel moloney makes some really bold choices as an actress and they pay off in big ways.

8. 17 people (season 2)
in this episode toby figures out that bartlett isn't planning on running for a second term and the president  is forced to tell him that he has MS. meanwhile josh, donna, sam, and ainsley are punching up the jokes for an upcoming speech the president is giving. i love the interplay between toby and the president in this episode. they're both angry and frustrated. they're both convinced they're in the right. there's this constant tug-of-war between them and this episode is a great example of that. plus this episode really digs into the question of how much privacy our presidents should be afforded. i love that aaron sorkin is never afraid to wade into murky waters and leave us there to find our own way out. also the stuff between josh and donna is heartwarming and as always sam and ainsley have great chemistry and really give us something to giggle at.

7. two cathedrals (season 2)
i love this episode so much i have actually used it as an illustration in multiple sermons. this episode tackles mrs. landingham's funeral, it flashes back to how bartlett met mrs. landingham, and it sets the stage for season three. there are multiple amazing moments in this episode. but here are my two favorites: everyone has left the church after the funeral and the president asks the secret service to seal the chapel so he can have a moment alone. as a man of great faith it seems like this is going to be a moment where he grabs hold of God and leans on him. instead this is what he says:
Bartlet: You're a son of a bitch, you know that? She bought her first new car and you hit her with a drunk driver. What, was that supposed to be funny? "You can't conceive, nor can I, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God," says Graham Greene. I don't know whose ass he was kissin' there, 'cause I think you're just vindictive. What was Josh Lyman, a warning shot? That was my son. What did I ever do to yours but praise his glory and praise his name? There's a tropical storm that's gaining speed and power. They say we haven't had a storm this bad since you took out that Tender ship of mine in the North Atlantic last year. Sixty-eight crew. You know what a Tender ship does? Fixes the other ships. It doesn't even carry guns, it just goes around, fixes the other ships and delivers the mail. That's all it can do. Yes, I lied. It was a sin. I've committed many sins. Have I dispelased you, you feckless thug? 3.8 million new jobs, that wasn't good? Bailed out Mexico, increased foreign trade, thirty million new acres of land for conservation, put Mendoza on the bench, we're not fighting a war, I've raised three children... that's not enough to buy me out of the dog house? You get Hoynes!
i love this moment of anger, this moment of such grief and honesty. and i think it is a powerful example of how we can approach God in all of our brokenness. my other favorite moment is the last scenes of the episode. there's no way i can adequately explain it. so watch it for yourself:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-EgLiPvhV-Y

6. isaac and ishmael (season 3)
during the hiatus for the show between the second and third season 9/11 happened. aaron sorkin decided to open the west wing's third season with a stand-alone episode that would address the aftermath of that tragedy. in this episode a group of high school students are visiting the west wing when there's a lockdown. so josh and the rest of the staff sit with them, in a cafeteria and they talk about terrorism. they ask the questions we were all asking ourselves during those first few months. again sorkin is at his best when he poses an issue, gives us all the sides to think about, and then leaves us to make our own decision about what is right.

5. game on (season 4)
it's the night of the big debate and as cj says, the staff is worried if the president is going to show up or if it will be "mr. fluffy." this episode makes my favorite list for only one reason and it's just a few lines delivered by the great martin sheen. but they are some pretty badass amazing lines:

Governor Robert Ritchie: My view of this is simple: we don't need a Federal Department of Education telling us our children have to learn Esperanto, they have to learn Eskimo poetry. Let the states decide, let the communities decide on health care, on education, on lower taxes, not higher taxes. Now, he's going to throw a big word at you - "unfunded mandate." He's going to say if Washington lets the states do it, it's an unfunded mandate. But what he doesn't like is the federal government losing power. But I call it the ingenuity of the American people.
Moderator: President Bartlet, you have 60 seconds for a question and an answer.
President Josiah "Jed" Bartlet: Well, first of all, let's clear up a couple of things. "Unfunded mandate" is two words, not one big word. There are times when we're fifty states and there are times when we're one country, and have national needs. And the way I know this is that Florida didn't fight Germany in World War II or establish civil rights. You think states should do the governing wall-to-wall. That's a perfectly valid opinion. But your state of Florida got $12.6 billion in federal money last year - from Nebraskans, and Virginians, and New Yorkers, and Alaskans, with their Eskimo poetry. 12.6 out of a state budget of $50 billion. I'm supposed to be using this time for a question, so here it is: Can we have it back, please?

4. inauguration, part 2: over there (season 4)
the president is beginning his second term and all the hijinks that go along with that. for those of us who love josh and donna this is one of the best episodes. the scene where he comes to her house before the ball is just swoon-worthy. this is one of those episodes where i am in awe of how witty the humor of this show is. the lines are well written, no one would ever argue that. but they're also delivered with such precision that it's clear this show is made by the best of the best. this episode is fun, it's smart, and it's hilarious.

3. gaza (season 5)
donna is on a fact finding trip in gaza with a handful of senators when the car she's riding in is blown up. i think this episode completely changes the series. leo and the president disagree on what the response should be, to the extent that this is the beginning of the end for leo as the chief of staff. josh and donna's "will they/won't they" reaches it's boiling point and their relationship never really returns to what it looked like before. the tone of the show shifts as well. this episode reminds the viewer that a presidency may be full of nuances, but ultimately legacies are defined by one single decision, for better or worse.

2. impact winter (season 6)
cj, toby, and the president head to china for what is to be bartlett's last international trip of his presidency. his MS has progressed significantly and he is forced to stay in a wheelchair. meanwhile, josh is left behind to "keep an eye on things." this is also the episode that we see tangibly a change we have felt instinctively. donna officially quits and moves onto working for the vice-president's campaign. in my opinion donna is the character that changes the most in the series. this episode is where that change starts to practically show itself. she's no longer an assistant and she no longer can work under josh. their relationship is utterly different. i love that this episode has me feeling all topsy-turvey. the storyline in china reveals just how tenacious president bartlett is. the josh/donna storyline reminds me the end is near and shows how carefully crafted these characters were.

1. tomorrow (season 7)
in many ways the series finale left me craving more. i wanted to flash forward 5 years and see where all these characters were (and the blurb in the premiere of season 7 doesn't cut it). but really, this episode is the perfect end to a series that i love so much. as president bartlett and his staff are preparing to say good-bye, president-elect santos and his staff are just beginning. i have probably watched this episode (and the entire series) more than 30 times and without fail this episode makes me cry. always. my favorite moment is when debbie is showing ronna her desk. ronna wanders into the oval office and it's clear she's overcome with emotion and this room. debbie has this to say:
Your most important job is keeping track of who's going in and out of the Oval Office. The first thing you'll need to do is establish who'll have walk-in privileges. Usually it's just the First Lady and the Chief of Staff. At some point the President's going to ask you to take away his wife's walk-in privileges. Don't do it no matter how much he begs. You have the right to attend the morning staff meeting. I never went because the senior staff was already appropriately intimidated by my stern visage and dry wit. But you're young, you have a baby face. They are going to try and walk all over you. You should go. [Stands behind Ronna as she looks into Oval Office with awe.] You desk sits right outside this door. You prepare his schedule. You decide who goes in and who doesn't. Your most frequent response to any question will be 'no'. [Gives Ronna's arm a reassuring sqeeze] Say it with empathy and you'll be fine. 
it always hits me at this moment in the episode how powerfully the simplest of jobs impact our world. in a lot of ways ronna is just a secretary. she's going to answer the phone and file papers, and yet she sits right outside the oval office and she decides who goes in and who doesn't. her presence makes an impact. ultimately that's something this show constantly teaches me: my presence makes an impact.