The Future is Island Chains

Lately, I've been on a music kick. I've been finding a lot of new music and rediscovering a lot of old music that I hadn't listened to for some time but still really love. It's always amazing to me the ways that certain songs will really just grab my attention, force me to listen, make me think about what's going on in the lyrics or just really feel the way the music sounds.

There are some songs that I come back to again and again, and there are other songs that I never listen too, not because I don't like them anymore or because I've grown tired of them but because there's something in them that's just too personal or too sad. An example. I can't listen to Elliott Smith for just that reason. There's just something too sad in his voice, something too melancholy.

And, I guess this has me thinking that there are reasons why certain songs affect us in certain ways. Isn't it that there's something in the song that speaks to something in us? It isn't just those abstract ideas of love or loss that we find appealing or moving; it's that we feel or have felt those things. It's that there is something inside of us that resonates with the song because, in some way, we know those feelings.

It's just kind of a reminder that, even in something that may seem solitary (like listening to music alone), I'm sort of not alone. I kind of like this idea.

I guess I like this idea because I've never been someone who easily relates to people. I know that sounds just awful. It's really not so bad; I just mean that I often try to go it alone. I don't want help. But, if there's anything that I've learned over the last few years, it's that going it alone just isn't an option. I need, we all need, people around us to help us grow, to share our lives with, to love and be loved by.

I think nothing has taught me this more than growing in faith. I look back on my spiritual journey to this point, and I see so much of it as a path I walked alone. I see myself sitting alone on a pew at a church where I knew nobody, taking in the sermon and enjoying this singing but being sort of an island with nothing and nobody touching me. But, in the words of Jon Bon Jovi, "No man is an island." It applies to women too, and it especially applies to spirituality. Now I just see so much the difficulty of growing in a faith alone. It seems that, as much as I love the idea of running off and being a contemplative living a cloistered existence, there's just no way to grow that way. There's just no way to understand how faith looks lived in the lives of other believers and how their experiences can inform my own spiritual growth.

So, perhaps I'll always be a bit of an island; only children are a bit that way. But, I'm moving toward the idea of the island chain. It seems the island chain really must be the future if all of us individuals are to amount to anything together as one unified Body.

[Note: If you can name the movie I stole from in this post, I'll buy you a cup of coffee. I promise I only stole a small bit, just because that one line makes me smile.]

[Note Part Two: I've got a ton of good music recommendations, if anyone is interested. First off, I have to say that Horse Feathers is a great band, and "Curs in the Weeds" is one of my new favorite songs.]

Love,

Sara

Prayer

The other day I was praying, thinking about the season and all that it means. For some reason, I started thinking about Mary. Perhaps it's because I've been listening to a mix of Christmas songs that I made, and one of the songs is "Breath of Heaven," a beautifully moving song that's sung from Mary's point of view.

It's one of my favorite songs, and I love it precisely because it makes me think of how difficult it must have been to be Mary, to feel worthy of all that she was called to, to understand how to carry and mother the baby who was God incarnate. And, when I listen to that song, I think of how I often feel as she must have felt because, in some ways, we're all called to carry Christ. I'm called to do that, unworthy as I often feel.

And yet, the other day as I was praying, I thought beyond those feelings of unworthiness to focus on how indescribable it must have felt for Mary to know who she was giving birth to. Obviously, I've never given birth, but I tried to think about what that must have been like to know how close she was to God.

I sort of marveled at it for a moment. I tried to picture it. Tried to grasp the enormity of that moment. And then I realized that, along with those feelings of doubt and uncertainty, there is also a great feeling of peace, of love and joy, that comes with a closeness to God. And, though I cannot know the feeling of the exact kind of relationship that Mary had to Christ, there is something so beautiful, so truly wonderful about the connection to Christ through prayer.

Love,

Sara

Inside the Mind of a Blogger...

My boss is really into Meyers-Briggs Personality testing. My friend Sabrina is the same way. And, though I know that Meyers-Briggs isn't even considered reliable by many psychologists, I have to admit that it's my guilty pleasure.

Now, I'm not super obsessed with it or anything; I just think that, after I took a test years ago, the description of my personality type was eerily on target. As in, I couldn't have said it better if I wrote it my own dadgum self. Seriously.

Well, hilariously, now this test can be applied to blogs. Oi. So, of course I had to see what my blog-personality is! Blog-sonality? Perso-blog-anity? Man, it just won't work this time!

Anyways, I did the blog test using both the entire blog address and a modified address using archived posts. You can do it to. Just click here. Here's what I got:

INFP - The Idealists (This was for the archived posts)

The meaning-seeking and unconventional type. They are especially attuned to making sure their beliefs and actions are congruent. They often develop a passion for the arts or unusal forms of self-expression.

They enjoy work that are aligned to their deeply felt values and tend to strongly dislike the more practical and mundane forms of tasks. They can enjoy working alone for long periods of time and are happiest when they can immerse themselves in personally meaningful projects.

INTP - The Thinkers (This was for the whole blog address)

The logical and analytical type. They are especially attuned to difficult creative and intellectual challenges and always look for something more complex to dig into. They are great at finding subtle connections between things and imagine far-reaching implications.

They enjoy working with complex things using a lot of concepts and imaginative models of reality. Since they are not very good at seeing and understanding the needs of other people, they might come across as arrogant, impatient and insensitive to people that need some time to understand what they are talking about.

Your Opinions???

Seriously, which do you think is more like me? I know what my "real" personality type is, so take your best guess! ;)

Much love (Like, seriously, tons of love and best wishes and hugs and kisses and such),

Sara

Little Blog

Just a little blog to share something I think is funny. Greta snores. My tiny, seven-pound dog sounds like a chainsaw. It's awful. And it makes me laugh. Fortunately, it doesn't wake me up, because that would not make me laugh.

Also, I'm nearing the end of the semester. Lots of thoughts/emotions/feelings about that. It's been a really great semester--a lot of changes, a lot of new people, a lot of new things learned. As for things unlearned? I hate documentation styles, and I'm pretty sure that I did my best to avoid thinking about them as much as is possible for someone who both teaches composition and works at a writing center. But, I try my best to help those who really want to know how to use MLA properly. And, I try my best to stay awake while doing so. ;)

In other news, I've been super busy with work but managing to fit in having a life. In short, life is good.

Loves,

Sara

Procrastination

I'm supposed to be grading. Actually, I'm supposed to have been grading for the past few weeks.

And yet.

And yet.

Here I am, with so many ungraded papers it's making my head spin! The truth of it is that these papers are very easy to grade. They take almost no time at all to grade, in fact. But, despite how quickly I can grade them, there's just something about grading them all in one shot that's starting to making my brain turn to mush.

So I bought a CD off iTunes.

The fact is, I needed something new to listen to, some new stimulus for me weary old brain. So, I bought a CD by Andrew Osenga. I just learned about him yesterday, and I'm glad I did. He's got a nice, folky sound. Good lyrics. Clean sounds, nothing too muddled or overproduced. I like that. His voice kind of reminds me of Ryan Adams. I like that as well.

Check him out, people!

:)

Sara

The Day After

So, the election's over, and we know who won. I have to say that, as someone who believes in the sanctity of life, it makes me sad to know that we've just put into office the candidate who has promised to sign FOCA. That we've elected someone who puts that as a top priority.

Those things bother me. They bother me deeply.

And yet, I'm not overcome. I voted for life, and that's really all I could do. And, when I really think about it, I know that we can never craft a legislation that will change hearts. All that the law does is limit availability; it doesn't speak to the deep needs of women who are facing a pregnancy that they feel so unprepared for and overwhelmed by.

Only love can speak to those needs. And so, we will pray.

We may even give praise. Praise to a God who loves us. Praise to a God who is still almighty. Praise to a God who knows our hearts, our hurts, and our needs.

"Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."

Let us be catholic.

I have a confession.

Sometimes movies make me cry. I know that this shouldn't come as any big surprise, and I'm sure most anyone reading this has had those moments. Maybe it was Beaches or Steel Magnolias. Those are real tear-jerkers. And they made me cry too.

But, there's something else that really gets me. It's those movie scenes where people come together, where there is some moment when people must come together for the greater good despite their differences. Those scenes get me every single time.

The other night, I went to a worship service. I stood outside in the night air, illuminated by candlelight. I stood there with other believers, both Catholic and Protestant, and we sang and praised God together. We asked for His blessings, for His mercy. And, together, we recited the Apostles' Creed. It's difficult to describe the feeling I got while confessing those words alongside others who believe them so strongly, so beautifully.

Together we confessed,

"I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth: And in Jesus Christ his only Son, our Lord; who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried; he descended into hell; the third day he rose again from the dead; he ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Ghost; the holy catholic church; the communion of saints; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body; and the life everlasting. Amen"

Despite theological differences, we were, each of us, able to say these words not only with our mouths but in our hearts. And, it is the belief in those words, in the great gift of life made possible by the death of Christ, that led each of us to the spot where we were standing that evening.

That night was part of a prayer vigil focused on the sanctity of life. We were gathered together in a common belief that life is precious, that even the smallest human life is deserving of our love and support, of our prayers and our dedication to a common good that cannot deny that life a chance to be born.

And it is that belief in the sanctity of life which led Bishop Kevin Farrell and Bishop Kevin Vann to write a joint statement to the Faithful of the Dioceses of Dallas and Fort Worth; this statement is a further explanation of a previous statement by the Bishops of the United States. These two men have written this statement to instruct Catholic voters, but, as I read their statement, I couldn't help but believe that its words are true for all who confess the Creed, as each of us is indebted to a God who is the Author of Life.

They write:

"As Pope John Paul II clearly states:

"Disregard for the right to life, precisely because it leads to the killing of the person whom society exists to serve, is what most directly conflicts with the possibility of achieving the common good... It is impossible to further the common good without acknowledging and defending the right to life, upon which all the other inalienable rights of individuals are founded and from which they develop..." (The Gospel of Life, 72; 101)

Therefore, we cannot make more clear the seriousness of the overriding issue of abortion – while not the "only issue" – it is the defining moral issue, not only today, but of the last 35 years. Since the Roe v. Wade decision in 1973, more than 48 million innocent lives have been lost. Each year in our nation more than one million lives are lost through legalized abortion. Countless other lives are also lost through embryonic stem cell research. In the coming months our nation will once again elect our political leaders. This electoral cycle affords us an opportunity to promote the culture of life in our nation. As Catholics we are morally obligated to pray, to act, and to vote to abolish the evil of abortion in America, limiting it as much as we can until it is finally abolished.

As Catholics we are faced with a number of issues that are of concern and should be addressed, such as immigration reform, healthcare, the economy and its solvency, care and concern for the poor, and the war on terror. As Catholics we must be concerned about these issues and work to see that just solutions are brought about. There are many possible solutions to these issues and there can be reasonable debate among Catholics on how to best approach and solve them. These are matters of "prudential judgment." But let us be clear: issues of prudential judgment are not morally equivalent to issues involving intrinsic evils. No matter how right a given candidate is on any of these issues, it does not outweigh a candidate's unacceptable position in favor of an intrinsic evil such as abortion or the protection of "abortion rights."

As Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship states:

"The direct and intentional destruction of innocent human life from the moment of conception until natural death is always wrong and is not just one issue among many. It must always be opposed." (28)

Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship, in paragraphs 34-37, addresses the question of whether it is morally permissible for a Catholic to vote for a candidate who supports an intrinsic evil – even when the voter does not agree with the candidate's position on that evil. The only moral possibilities for a Catholic to be able to vote in good conscience for a candidate who supports this intrinsic evil are the following:

a. If both candidates running for office support abortion or "abortion rights," a Catholic would be forced to then look at the other important issues and through their vote try to limit the evil done; or,

b. If another intrinsic evil outweighs the evil of abortion. While this is sound moral reasoning, there are no "truly grave moral" or "proportionate" reasons, singularly or combined, that could outweigh the millions of innocent human lives that are directly killed by legal abortion each year.

To vote for a candidate who supports the intrinsic evil of abortion or "abortion rights" when there is a morally acceptable alternative would be to cooperate in the evil – and, therefore, morally impermissible."

Anyone who knows me knows that politics is my least favorite topic, and yet, for me, abortion isn't just a political issue. It's an issue which speaks to our belief in life and its value. It's an issue which sees those who are faced with it at their most vulnerable, and it's an issue which asks us, as those who love and believe in God, to reach out, to see Jesus in each and every person, even those who have yet to be born. It's an issue which tests how we will choose to treat "the least of these."

So, in this election, let us be catholic. Not necessarily in the sense of being a part of the Roman Catholic Church, but in keeping with the meaning of the word catholic. Let us include all who trust in Christ, and let us be the Body of Christ here on earth.

Love,

Sara

Send Me!

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?"
And I said, "Here am I. Send me!"

Isaiah 6:8

I love that verse. Maybe because, reluctant as I am to admit this, I'm a romantic, and I love the idea of having some great purpose, some great mission, some great reason for being. And, that's part of it.

But, I also love that verse because it makes me think of the million little ways that we can say, "Here am I. Send me!"

Not too long ago, I was reading an article written by a priest, and he was saying that, because we are the Body of Christ here on earth, we are called to minister to those who need help, those who are troubled and hurting.

I think we start doing that when we begin listening for God's voice, when we start looking for those million little ways that He can use us, those million little ways He can work through us, using us as His hands and feet, eyes and ears. We become the means by which God's love is carried to those who need it when we hear Him and answer, "Here am I. Send me!"

By the way, I've never written about this before, but usually when I write, I'll listen to one song over and over. Often my writing is inspired by something I've been listening to. The other night I went to a praise and worship gathering (which, incidentally, involved the police, though no arrests were made), and we sang this song. I'd never heard it before, but with all those people coming together, it was just beautiful. This is definitely a song that is a prayer. It's beautiful, and I listened to it while writing tonight. If you want to check out the song, it's by the Robbie Seay Band. Download it immediately, and then commence with prayer and meditation. :)

Oh, my God
Shine Your light on us
That we might live

I've been holding on
I've been holding on
All that is inside me
Screams to come back home

If you feel lost
If you feel lost
Sing along
If you feel tired
If you feel tired
Sing along

If you feel lost and tired
This is your song

My Friday Night

I had a wild and crazy Friday night. I babysat.

That's right, folks. I was left alone with and in charge of a two year old. And we're both still doing fine!

It was a lot of fun, actually. We watched Cars and danced when the music was fun. Apparently, there are certain parts of the movie that you're supposed to dance during. Who knew?

Anyways, it was a fun time, even though I had no luck getting him to go to sleep. Baby John always has funny things to say, so I'll leave you with this gem,

"I don't eat dogs. I eat vegetables."

(By the way, I promise that I didn't make him view any PETA videos on animal cruelty. He just came up with that on his own.)

:)

Sara

I Like This

A quote from a book I've been reading, a prayer:

"Dear Lord, grant me the grace of wonder. Surprise me, amaze me, awe me in every crevice of Your Universe. Delight me to see how Your Christ plays in ten thousand places, lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not His, to the Father through the features of men's faces. Each day enrapture me with Your marvelous things without number. I do not ask to see the reason for it all; I ask only to share the wonder of it all."

Beautiful, right?

I thought about that today, thinking over the wonder of life and birth and death. And how important that wonder is. How necessary that I, that you, that we still stand amazed at the wonder of all that is around us. Of the beauty of life. Of the worth and sanctity of life. That we consider that wonder in the large things and even the small.

So, perhaps we pray a little more. Maybe we care a little more. We wonder a little more at this gift that is life. And maybe that makes us love each other just a bit more.

This Weekend

Well, this weekend was a ton of fun. I went to Oklahoma, surprised my aunt, and ran in the Race for the Cure. It was great because there were so many family and friends there to encourage my aunt, and I think it made her feel good to know so many people care. Plus, she got an awesome (pink and black) cake for her birthday, and I was more than happy to have a piece of that! :)

While I was in OK, I (of course) took a little time to shop and got some great shoes. Comfy, classic, perfect to go with my suit in case I ever have to find a job. I say that like I don't work, but I do work. Pretty much all the time. And you know what? I think I like working a lot. True, it does take some getting used to because it's way different than the sort of schedule I'd been accustomed to as a grad student, but, as I'm getting used to it, I'm really liking that I get to go to work and meet up with my super wonderful co-workers and get to see my students. It's good times!

Oh, back to Oklahoma. I found this cool pet shop there. They sell dog treats and food and accoutrement. The food is all really healthy for the pups, and, judging by the reactions I've gotten so far, dogs really love eating healthy. So long as healthy involves such tasty things as lamb and sweet potato stew and buffalo gravy over regular dog food. What four-legged friend wouldn't love that? Greta's in heaven with all these treats!

Anyways, those are the goings on here!

Love!

Sara

Sound of Melodies

I have this memory that I keep coming back to. It's the memory of leaving San Salvador, and when I think of it, I want so much to go back, to see the kids, to know how they are doing.

When I left San Salvador, we loaded up the van with probably more children than would be allowed in the US. We were all very cozily situated for the trip, but I was so glad that so many of the children got to go with us, to see us off at the airport.

On the way to the airport, we listened to the radio--super loud, as always. And we got to hear so many songs that had become our favorites during our stay. There was one song that we heard so many times we nearly had it memorized. And, as that song came on the radio, all the children started singing along.

I can't describe the beauty of listening to those children, many of them scarred emotionally and physically by families who abandoned them, hearing those children whose hearts have ached so much more than I can ever imagine lift their voices in praise to God. I had to wonder if there is anything more beautiful than the sound of children singing to God. The sound of children who trust and believe, even though their lives should have taught them to trust and believe in nothing.

Maybe that beauty is what happens when God binds up the hearts of the afflicted. Maybe He gives them this ability to create a sound so beautiful it touches our hearts, lets us see Jesus in their eyes, makes us want to love them as God does.

Hurricane!

Hello, All!

Well, I just thought I'd let you know that I am safe here in Texas, despite the fact that the state is now a disaster area. Here in my area, things didn't get too bad. There were some trees uprooted and other good stuff like that, but, for the most part, the people (myself included) have been safe and unharmed. Gracias a Dios.

Right now, our area is just taking in people from places harder hit than we were, and it has been really amazing to see the outpouring of help coming from many good-hearted people. Churches are full of people needing a place to stay, and there are plenty of people there to meet them and help them get some food and some rest in the midst of this disaster. Again, gracias a Dios for putting such giving and loving people right here for such a time as this.

much love,

Sara

Old Hymns

I really love old hymns. There's just something so beautiful about their lyrics, always so poetic and rich with meaning. Sometimes I feel like I just need to sit and take in the lyrics, let them fill up my head so that I can think about them a little more, spend some time with them, fall in love with them a little bit.

I love them for their lyrics, but I also love them because they're a part of me. I grew up singing along with old hymns in church. My favorite as a child was "Shall We Gather at the River." It's traditionally a funeral song, so you can feel free to infer anything you'd like from that. All I know is that I loved to sing the words,

"Shall we gather at the river,
Where bright angel feet have trod,
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?

Yes, we’ll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river;
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God."

And why would we not gather by that river? Can you imagine anything more beautiful than that river with angels, so close to God? There's something in a song like that that just speaks to my soul, something that lets me think about Heaven and how beautiful it must be. And there's something about lyrics to old hymns that just feels as if they're crafted especially to fit into the spaces in our hearts that most need those words, the spaces that are aching to be comforted and awakened to the beauty and wonder of God.

An Entry for Today

A few years ago, I was thinking about my belief in God. I guess it wasn't just one, fixed moment in time, but a lot of little times when my thoughts turned in that direction. For whatever reason, though I rarely went to church and almost never prayed, there was something in me that would turn toward thinking about God in the odd moments of life.

A few years ago, I'd decided that I did, in fact, believe in God. But, I felt like God could not be proved. I could not know in any certain way, but I chose to believe. I chose to believe because I liked the idea of living in a world in which there was a God better than the idea of living in a world without God. And yet, there remained this question of God. There remained these moments in which I'd catch myself believing something (a moral, an ethic) so strongly but not having a way to understand why. Sometimes the tugging on my heart was so strong and so relentless.

At some point, I guess I started wondering if these odd tuggings on my heart had something to do with this God I could not prove. I started wondering if they had something to do with this God of whom I could never be certain. I started to wonder if there could be some sort of Truth, some sort of absolute amid all the uncertainty of life. Could there be something which could challenge me to greater things than I knew? Could there be someone who knew the plans he had for me--plans to prosper and not to harm, plans to give me hope and a future? Could that someone be God, and could I know Him, truly know Him?

Somehow, through grace and love and prayer, God showed me that He is real, that He is faithful and full of love. That His ways are not my ways, but that, through learning of His ways, there can be a newness, a rebirth of all things. I still prefer living in a world in which there is a God to living in one in which there is not. But, there is such a peace and and endless awe of knowing that He is real, that He is not just a God I have chosen to allow into my world, but that He is a God who has chosen, through His infinite love, to allow me into His world. And, because of that, I am forever blessed.

Prayer

I have never been much of a pray-er. And, I'm sorry for just using that word that is really not even a word, but it's the best thing I could think of. I just didn't pray very much. Or, I guess I should say that I didn't think much about what I prayed about. For a long time, I prayed every night, but I sort of just said the same thing each night. There wasn't a lot of thought about it. And, though my nightly prayer time fizzled out for many years, it would come back in small spurts when I'd have important things going on or when I knew people who were sick and "needed prayer," whatever that meant.

One day as I was on the phone with my friend Alanna, we ended up talking about prayer. I'm not sure how we got on the subject, and I don't remember much of the conversation, really, but I do remember that, at some point in the conversation, Alanna was talking about prayer as a means of relating to God. And, then she said something to the effect that, as you grow in a relationship through prayer, God begins to tell you what to pray about.

Huh.

I'm sure I probably said something like, "Oh. Yeah." I sometimes like to pretend that I understand things. But, really, all I was thinking was, "That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. In fact, though I'm sure she really believes it, that just sounds crazy to me."

It really did sound crazy to me. I mean, if God knows what I need, why should I wait for Him to tell me that I need to pray for it? Why doesn't He just give it to me? I mean, He's God. It's not like that would be out of His power to do, right? He's God. Did I just repeat that? Yes, I did. Because that was really the hangup for me. If God is so powerful, then He is able to anticipate my needs, and the needs of anyone else for that matter. So, if He saw a need within me, like a need to grow in some area, it didn't make sense that He would tell me to ask Him for help. That just sounded nuts.

But, I had to give her the benefit of the doubt because most of my prayers had simply been prayers asking God for things. Please keep me safe. Please don't let my grandfather die. Please. I did a lot of asking for major things, but no real talking, no real relating.

Over the last year or so, I started praying more. I have to be honest. I don't always like it. I try to pray even on those days when the idea of praying is least appealing to me, because I figure that's when I probably need it most, but I'm far from being a perfect pray-er, even now.

And, through praying more, I guess I'm coming to understand the reasons for praying. And maybe I'm even starting to grasp what Alanna was saying.

The other day, I was thinking about what it is to have a relationship with God. I was thinking, especially, about the fact that God does not force us into relationship with Him; instead, He gives us the free will to choose. And I kind of feel that that freedom is reflected througout a relationship with God. I mean, we are fully capable of choosing to believe or not, of accepting Christ as Saviour or not. Really, this choice is ours. And yet, even if I do believe, even if I do have that sort of faith, there is still so much room to grow in understanding and knowing God, in being able to grasp His purpose for my life.

And I guess this is where prayer comes in. Sure, I really thought Alanna was a little nuts when she said that God will tell you what to pray for, but I've really begun to see what she means.

As I've experienced it, that means that, while praying or reflecting on the Bible, I have a sense of some area in which I need to grow or some step that I need to take in life. Again, why wouldn't God just fix that area for me? He knows I'm lacking in that area better than I do. And yet, if He were to fix those things, I wouldn't have to do any growing myself. My free will would be taken away because I wouldn't be given the choice to grow or to stay the same. I wouldn't be growing in a relationship with God, learning to rely on Him to give me counsel about my life. And, I think most importantly to me, I wouldn't see (through all the much needed prayer) how very dependent I am on God to make the kind of changes in my life that bring about true changes of the heart and mind and soul. When I connect with God in prayer, in order to seek help, I can really see how God is loving and nuturing and guiding me to enable true changes in me, changes that I really could not make alone.

And all of this leaves me completely amazed. At the love that God has for us all, that He would give us such freedom. Of His ability to move through our lives, awakening each of us to the deepest needs of our souls, needs that we sometimes don't even recognize until He lovingly shows them to us. And amazed that, at any time during the day, I can actually talk to God.

And so I do talk to God. Just because I can! ;)

Fumbling Toward Holiness...

I've always liked to swim. I don't do it very often now, but, when I was younger, I would spend hours swimming back and forth in our pool. I've never been scared of the water and would jump right into the deep end, no problem.

Maybe that sounds brave and fearless.

Could be. But, I can tell you that generally there's a pretty thin line between bravery and foolishness. And I've done plenty of things that teetered rather precariously on that line. And yet, even though I know that I have this tendency towards foolishness masked as bravery, that doesn't much stop me from continuing to jump in the deep end, be it the deep end of the pool or a deep end of a more metaphorical sort.

I guess I keep doing such things because, to be honest, the fool in me is really too naive to understand the danger I might get myself into. The fool in me doesn't see impending doom. The fool in my sees only the excitement or the good that will come out of taking the risk, if the fool in me can even understand that it's a risk being taken.

I was thinking about this today, as I fumbled around in a bit of a funk, sad about everything. I won't go into detail about what all I was sad about because there were a great many things, and each of them are so large they'd necessitate a separate post, if not a collection of books.

But, anyways, I was in a funk. And I was in a funk precisely because I had jumped in the deep end.

You see, I'm usually a pretty distant person, at least emotionally speaking. I'm incredibly funny. I mean, I'm not even bragging here, people. I'm hilarious. I know this because I totally crack myself up most of the time. I say some of the funniest things to me, you wouldn't even believe. Again, that's a whole different post.

But, suffice it to say, I can communicate well with people because I'm funny. But that's often pretty much it. I mean, I'm not going to cry on your shoulder and tell you my feelings. And, for the love of all that is good in this world, I hope that you don't try to put your head on my shoulder and cry. I'm telling you, seriously, I'm not sure what I would do. I would probably implode or have a panic attack or just plain pass out. Barring those things, I would at least tense up and have no idea what to say to you. I would have no words to communicate.

Yes, I am that person. I'm not saying I like it. In fact, I really don't. And that's how I ended up jumping in the deep end.

It started off simply enough. I decided that, if I was to truly open up to people and care about people, I would need some help. And, I decided I'd get that help by praying about it. Yep. It sounded like a good idea. I'd pray that I could really and truly love people. That I would see people as God sees people. And that (and here's where I really got myself in trouble) I'd love people as Jesus loves them.

Sounds great, right? Jesus is loving. God is love. Jesus loves me. We sing songs about this stuff. They're good songs. Happy songs.

So, I decided to pray that I'd love people as Jesus does. Now, I wasn't great at this prayer. I kept it up for a while, and then I dropped it for a while. Here recently, I'd really started it up again. And that's how I ended up in the funk, treading water in the deep end. I'm a good swimmer, but I wasn't quite prepared for what I'd jumped into.

You see, when I thought about loving people as Jesus loves them, I'd simply thought about feeling warmly toward people. Caring about them in a way that's a little more personal than the sort of abstract way that I'd always cared about people before. To love people like Jesus would simply mean to care about them. To see the good in them, to seek to see that good even when I didn't really like them. That's what I figured loving people like Jesus would be like.

But, loving people like Jesus loves them means hurting for them. How I didn't factor that in, I'm not sure. And yet, I didn't. I didn't think that loving people as Jesus loves them would mean that I would see their hurts and hurt for them. I didn't think it would mean that I'd think about people I don't even know and worry for them, care for them. But that's what happens.

The other day, I was in the campus bookstore, and I bought a book called Redeemed. So far, I'm kind of in love with it because I'm kind of in love with reading stories of faith and how people come to faith. The author, Heather King, writes about falling in love with Christ and coming to understand His love for all of us.

"I couldn't get my mind around a God who ruled by such apparent powerlessness. If Christ is God made man, it came to me one day, for instance, then God lets us kill him. He didn't, and doesn't, so much "die for our sins" as love us so much, so fiercely guard our free will, that he allows himself to be in a relationship with us in which he is capable of being hurt; in which he allows himself to be totally, totally vulnerable. He could have made himself impervious to hurt, but he didn't. And when we hurt him--because it did hurt, almost beyond comprehension, to be betrayed by his friends, to have his life's work go for seemingly nothing, to be scourged, mocked, scorned, to be crowned with thorns and have spikes driven through his palms, the soft part of his feet, to basically suffocate to death, publicly, with people spitting at him and jeering, which continues to happen, throughout the world, every day, as we kill the Christ in ourselves and others, revile him, commit barbarous acts in his name--he doesn't hold a grudge, doesn't have a word of reproach. He says, Oh come back, you're back? Oh that makes me so happy, come over here by me and I'll tell you what I've learned, I'll show you how to be awake, alive, reconciled..."

It's so beautiful, isn't it? To love like that. And so, though I do feel the pain of that kind of love, I also feel the joy that comes from knowing what it is to love like that, if only to know some small part of that kind of love. And though it feels at times like I won't see the surface of the deep end again, I'd rather foolishly keep jumping in. I'd rather let the fool in me jump into loving too deeply than to play it safe by the water's edge.

School Days

The first two days of school are already over, and I kind of miss them already. A woman who works in our office was teasing, saying to another instructor that I like my students so much just because I'm in love with the first day of school.

And, you know what?

She's at least partly right on that one. I really am in love with the first day of school. I still buy back-to-school supplies. And some of them are hot pink. Okay, pretty much all of them are hot pink. And maybe one or two things are Hello Kitty, but I don't parade those around the students or anything.

The really great thing is that I've gotten to be part of the first day of school every year since I started kindergarten, and I've been part of the first day of school at a huge university every year since my first day as a college freshman.

And I feel really lucky to be there. I love to see the excitement on the faces of students who are just starting their college careers. I love the huge crush of people around certain parts of campus. I even love the poster sales that happen at the beginning of every school year.

I guess I just love the newness of it all. But I think that I'm mainly in love with the hopefulness of it, that all things are new on the first day of school, that the year holds so much possibility. I think that's why I love teaching at a university. I get to be a part of all of that each year and, in some small way, I get to be a part of my students' lives, to be there as they begin this part of their lives.

Well, those are my thoughts on the first day of school. I love it. And, now I'd better go to sleep, because tomorrow begins the third day of school. Now begins the time when I actually have to teach them things! Pray for me! ;)

Milkshakes and Tears

It started with a breakdown. My time at the orphanage in El Salvador, that is.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and, for reasons I cannot remember, there weren't many people around the orphanage. The members of the group we'd been with for the first week had left a few hours before, and we'd had a sad goodbye to them at the airport. The kids must have been doing something, and Susan and Maegen, my two roommates and fellow English speakers, must have been off with the kids.

Except one of the kids was there, and so was I. I was with Saul, a thirteen year old boy who has Muscular Dystrophy. He had also recently broken his leg in a fall from his wheelchair. In better circumstances, surgery might be needed, but Saul's body is not strong enough to go through surgery. This isn't a situation in which we can think of the possibility of getting him better medical care in the US. It's true that the care would be better than what is currently available to him. And yet, it is also true that the disease he has is one that will eventually be fatal, no matter how good the medical care he receives.

I'd just learned all of this the day before. And I thought of it as I helped feed Saul the rest of the milkshake that he was unable to finish the night before.

And then I just couldn't do it. I felt the tears in my eyes. I mumbled something in Spanish about needing to get a napkin. I went straight to my room.

And there, sitting on my bed, I just lost it. I started crying, annoyed with myself for not being able to keep it together, but crying all the same. In my mind, I began counting off the days that I had left in El Salvador, trying to figure out how much longer I had to stay in this place I was not strong enough to deal with, how many more times I'd have to blink back tears.

I'd like to say that there was some great revelation that came to me, some great insight about life that straightened me up right in that moment. But life never really goes like that for me. What stopped my crying was knowing that there was a young boy who needed help eating his milkshake, who needed the napkin I said I was going to get.

I know Saul knew that I'd been crying. He didn't tell me he knew, but he is sweet and very wise. He also like stories about monsters. And music. And movies. And he puts up with my terrible Spanish, especially with the awful stories I make up before bedtime. And he likes to pray at night before he goes to sleep.

As it turned out, there weren't many more sad moments with Saul. Somehow the disease that weakens Saul's body, that thing which was at the front of my mind on that first day, moved to the back of my mind as I learned more about Saul, about his life and likes and dislikes.

But the day that I sat on my bed crying, I wondered why God would want me to be in El Salvador. Surely, I had misunderstood. Surely, God had plans for someone better suited. Someone less selfish, someone less materialistic, someone more giving, someone more loving. And yet, there I sat. I was the one in El Salvador, crying and wondering what I was to do. I guess I learned that I was there to love. I was there to give, even when I didn't feel like giving. And, in doing that, maybe I learned a little. Maybe I became a little more like the person God should have sent.

Or maybe not. I'm never too keen on being self congratulatory, and I'm still plenty rotten. :)

I'm Home! Sort of...

Well, I made it back to the USA in one piece, though I have to admit that I'd probably jump on a plane back to El Salvador in a minute if given the chance. :) It was a really amazing trip, and I have lots of things to write about. Right now I'm just getting readjusted to life in the US. It's really different.

I suppose a lot of people expect that it's a welcome relief for me to have a hot shower everyday and to have more freedom of movement. Soyapango and Ciudad Delgado (the areas of San Salvador where I lived) are fairly dangerous, so I wasn't able to just hop on a bus and go to the store whenever I wanted. But, the thing is, I wasn't ever scared. And, things like hot showers are nice but not necessary.

Getting readjusted to life here is strange and kind of funny at times. I still try to plan out how to say things in Spanish. I miss arroz and frijoles and tortillas and pupusas. I miss having roommates and eating PB&J with them in the mornings. And I really miss my kids. All thirty of them. I miss praying with them at night and getting hugs before going to sleep. I miss being there to see what's going on with them each day.

But, I know that I will go back. And between now and then, I'll have plenty of hot showers! :)

So, that's what's up with me right now. I have plenty to tell you all about El Salvador and the wonderful kids there. For now, I'll leave you with this video. The song is the Spanish version of Hillsong United's "Take it All." It is really popular with the kids, and it is proof that a life in Christ can, in fact, rock. ;)

A long time coming!

I hate to write a blog that starts off, "I'm sorry that I haven't written in so long." But that's just what I'm writing.

I've been really busy lately, and my access to the internet has been pretty limited. It's limited because I've been living at an orphanage in El Salvador. My days are pretty full, playing with and talking to kids, so even if there was a decent internet connection, I'm not sure that I'd have much time to write. I won't be here forever (though I wouldn't entirely object to that), so I will be writing again.

And I'll have plenty to write about. From just today, I can write about the village of Panchimalco, a colonial church from the 1500s, holy water, Puerta del Diablo, a trip to the jungle, conversations with our taxi driver, and how great it is to get hugs and kisses from lots of kids every day.

So, my days here are pretty full. But also really blessed. Perhaps I won't go home after all! ;)

Love,

Sara

Oh, and by the way, I might have accidentally become Catholic today. But I'll have to check with the Catechism to see if what happened constitutes a real conversion. You know, since Vatican II, just about anything is possible! ;)

Today

Today is Mother's Day. So, I'd like to take this opportunity to say "Happy Mother's Day" to my mom.

Thank you for being my mom and for putting up with me for this long. Thank you for all your prayers, for never bothering me about being religious but for, instead, trusting in God that someday I would understand. Thank you for not insisting that I choose a practical major in college. Thank you for being there when I need to talk.

All of those things are amazing. But I refuse to thank you for always copying me. So, no thank you for getting matching purses, sunglasses, lipstick colors, jeans, and shoes with me. Seriously, lady, I know I'm fashionable, but we've got to stop dressing alike. :)

But, anyways, happy Mother's Day. I love you.

Love,

Sara Anna

A Good Book

A few weeks ago, I read a review of the book, Quaker Summer, by Lisa Samson. I thought it sounded good, so it stayed on my mind ever since then. And, because I'd been in the mood to read some fiction, I decided to pick it up the other day.

Now, the style of Samson's writing is really different than books I usually read. I don't mean that in a negative way, but she's very descriptive and is fond of metaphors and similes. Sometimes I didn't like her style and thought she got a little too fantastical in some of the storytelling.

BUT.

Oh, a big but. BUT, she takes on so many ideas and problems that it seems like most of us would rather shy away from. This novel takes on the issues of acquisitiveness, loss, ecuminism, religious splits, gossip, body image, relations between rich and poor, poverty, Christian responsibility, bullying, difficulties between liberal and conservative Christians. The list could go on. Seriously.

And, though Samson introduces all of these topics (and so many more), she's able to do so without seeming overly didactic. The reader is presented all of these topics through the struggles of a spiritual seeker, Heather, who, though a Christian, is trying to learn where she fits in and if she can reconcile her life of wealth with her calling as a Christian. That alone is reason enough to read this book because that question is a weighty one.

So, despite the fantastical turns of events, I'd recommend this book to anyone who wants a good read and who's thinking about similar questions.

Oh, the main character also makes cakes. And that's also reason enough to read it. I like books about people who make cakes, and I'm certain there aren't enough of them.

:)

Sara

At the Library

Two mornings a week, I work at the library on campus. I am not a morning person, but, over this semester, I've noticed that some people really are. In fact, there are some people who are library regulars in the morning. It's kind of nice to see some of the same people when I get to work, even if I've never actually met them.

One person who I look forward to seeing is someone I've nicknamed "Chicago Guy." It's not a very creative nickname, but that's what I started to call him (only to myself, not to his face which I honestly am not sure I've ever even seen because his back is to me when I walk in).

I started calling him that because he is always (and I mean always) wearing a Cubs jacket and a Bears cap. What a perfect salute to two great Chicago teams, right? I think it's great.

Well, today was a really nice, warm day, and when I walked into the library I was caught a little off guard because I didn't see a Cubs jacket. It made me a little sad to think that, with the coming of spring, I'd never see Chicago Guy in his full Chicago gear. But then a spotted it. A Cubs jersey, Soriano specifically, and the Bears cap. I had to smile to see Chicago Guy in his spring uniform.

Thank you, Chicago Guy (whoever you are), for loving your teams and for making me smile.

Small Something from a Sermon

Do you ever have it happen that what you remember of a song or movie or speech is maybe not what you were to have taken from it, really? But what you remember is some small something, maybe something said as an aside. Nothing important, nothing major. But something that just stood out for some reason.

Today in church I had that happen. Today in the middle of his sermon, the minister said,

"There's nothing I can do, except pray, which is really a lot."

I really liked that. I guess I liked it because I so often feel that there's very little that I can do to help things or change them or even to help people. I mean, I pray, but that often seems like so little.

And yet, that is probably the biggest thing I can do. To finally have the humility to admit that I, competent as I'd like to think I am, am just not as powerful as God, who can do all things. When I can do that, I guess it is really a lot.

Love,

Sara

Books!

As promised, I'm giving you the run-down on the books I've been loving as of late. Now, I'm definitely not a skilled reviewer, but I thought I'd just share some books that I love and (maybe) let you know that you should check them out too.

So here they are!

Blue Like Jazz: Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality
I've written on this book before, but it definitely deserves inclusion in any list of my favorite books. Donald Miller does an amazing job of discussing his own spiritual journey and of introducing us to fellow spiritual travelers. It is a great way of seeing how God works in the least expected places--very personal, insightful, and funny. I like funny. Also check out To Own a Dragon: Reflections on Growing up without a Father and Searching for God Knows What. To Own a Dragon is a very honect reflection on Miller's own troubles with understanding faith in a Heavenly Father given the absence of his earthly father. In Searching for God Knows What Miller discusses the relational nature of Christianity in a way that is challenging and helpful.

Finding God at Harvard: Spiritual Journeys of Thinking Christians
There is so much good to say about this book. It is a series of essays by various people (many of whom you'll know) who either became or remained Christians while at Harvard. The authors come from a variety of fields--science, law, philosophy--yet they all share a common belief in Christ. It's just an amazing collection, and I've found essays from this book to answer any number of questions I've had about faith and the relation of faith to the world.

Girl Meets God
Yet another one that I've written on previously. But it is awesome. I read this at a time when I didn't really know that Christians could be so smart and witty and spiritual. All at the same time. Lauren Winner does a great job with this look at her own spiritual journey, giving us access to her struggles and triumphs. If you want another good read by Winner, check out Real Sex: The Naked Truth about Chastity. If you at this second are thinking, "A book about chastity? You do realize it's 2008, right?" Well, Winner is bright, honest and just plain real enough to make the topic readable and compelling. Check it out!

Basic Christianity
Beautifully written, carefully detailed explanation of the faith. I love this little book, and I was amazed at how it always seemed to have something to say to me. Even if you've been a Christian or a church-goer forever, I think there's something in this work of John Stott that will make you think or help you with your belief. Excellent.

The Case for Faith
Lee Strobel, journalist and former atheist, interviews a variety of experts to gain a greater understanding of the major objections to Christianity and the Christian answers to those objections. I'm not yet through with this book, but what I've read so far has been thoughtful and well argued. He has another book, The Case for Christ, that I definitely plan on reading.

Well, that's my little list. I recommend them all. Give them a try. Oh, I also really like the Bible. That's a good one too. :)

Some Recommendations

Today I was talking to a friend about Christian music. When I was very young, I mainly listened to Christian music, but as I got older, I listened to anything but Christian music. It just wasn't cool. Christian music always seemed to be several steps behind whatever was going on in music, and, as the rest of the world (including me) was sporting flannel shirts and chunky shoes, contemporary Christian music seemed perpetually clothed in a Jazzercise costume from the 80's.

I'm not judging. I'm just saying that you can't have that much synthesizer on a track unless you're expecting your listeners to start sweatin' to the oldies.

Now, my opinion of contemporary Christian music might have been swayed by the fact that I listened to very little of it, but whenever I bring up Christian music, I see that I'm not the only one to hold a negative opinion of it. The idea that Christian music equals bad music is pretty prevalent.

However, over the last year or so, I started listening to Christian music. Really, it started because I wanted something to lift my spirits, and my friend Brooke (my only friend who actually likes Christian music) had once told me that it's impossible to be in a bad mood while listening to Christian music. Apparently, it cured her road rage. So I gave it a try.

And, you know what? It turned out that there is really some good stuff out there. I even found out that I like some of the stuff that I would have considered too cheesy. Even that stuff made me feel really happy. So, here are some recommendations of good Christian music.

Phil Wickham: He's very young, but his lyrics are really insightful and filled with praise and poetry. "Divine Romance" is one of my absolute favorite songs. It's one of the songs that gave me hope for Christian music.

Leeland: I don't know much about them, but they're great. "Brighter Days" and "Beautiful Lord" are two of my favorites.

Jon Foreman: Just please, please check him out. His work is just beautiful. I love it.

Future of Forestry: I just learned about them. Very good!

I'd also recommend Sara Groves, Jars of Clay, Downhere, Red Mountain Church, Matt Redman, Chris Rice, FFH, and Third Day.

Seriously, I never, ever thought I'd like any Christian music, but this stuff is just good music. So, give it try!

Coming soon: Recommendations of awesome books that you should get and immediately read. And then discuss with friends over a giant plate of cookies. Or salad. But, if you're reading the Bible, remember that you have to eat chocolate. As we learned in Blue Like Jazz, the Bible is a chocolate thing. And if you didn't know that, then you have to start with Blue Like Jazz because that's way up there on the list of books I will recommend!

Thoughts on an Old ID Picture

Last night, propelled by some odd sense of urgency and an unusual spurt of energy, I began to rummage through old boxes, cleaning out things I don't need, use, or want anymore. Of course, there were some old papers I'd written for classes, student evaluations, and half-used notebooks. I also found a cache of souvenirs--postcards, pictures, small remembrances of trips taken not so long ago.

I also found an old driver license. In it, I'm wearing a plum-colored turtleneck sweater; my hair is styled not unlike it is today; and I have on a pretty shade of lipstick. It's a nice picture. A pretty picture. I remember thinking just that when I had to get that license renewed, and I remember being glad that I'd taken a nice picture because usually those pictures turn out looking so bad.

But, when I looked at that picture last night, all I noticed was how very sad I looked. It is a pretty picture, but I just look so sad and scared, and all the sadness is right there in my eyes. Even I, opposed to excessive displays of affection as I am, had this urge to climb inside of that picture and hug the girl in it, to let her know that she doesn't deserve the sadness she's dealing with or the hurt she's feeling. I can't remember exactly when the picture was taken, but I know that I was very sad back then, and I know that that girl wouldn't have believed anything I'd tell her.

I'd rather not talk about what brought on the sadness. It's a long story, and it would take an entire book to discuss. Quite frankly, I've thought of writing that book. Don't be surprised if I do someday, though I can't imagine where Barnes and Noble would shelve it. Romance, Horror, Psychology, Fantasy, Self Help? Any of those would work. I sometimes feel like I lived all of those, and maybe that's why those eyes looked so sad.

What is amazing to me is that now, even on my saddest days (of which there aren't too many), there isn't that depth of sadness in my eyes. However, I have been that person. I was that person for quite a long while, and, though I no longer carry that weight of sadness, there is a part of me that still remembers what it is like to feel burdened by sadness, to carry it around for so long that the weight of it begins to feel normal, as if everyone must strugle constantly under the heavy burden of such sadness.

I suppose that I could feel angry about that time in my life. Anger would certainly be justified. And yet, I don't know that it would get me anywhere. I'd be trading the weight of sadness for the weight of anger. And, though my anger would be pointed toward someone else, it would still be my weight to carry, my burden to bear. I would feel no more free, no happier than with a yoke of sadness around my neck.

Could it be possible for me, instead, to find joy in that time of suffering? Not just joy in the fact that it's over, but true joy in the fact that I went through it? Could it, somehow, be possible to find the good in that time of life, to locate some small bit of goodness in all of that suffering?

The other day I was reading a book which I've been really lazy about reading. Lazy as in I hadn't gotten around to it even though I've had it for months. It's called The Case for Faith, and, in it the author, Lee Strobel, has a conversation with a scholar, Peter Kreeft, about faith and suffering and God. Kreeft says,

"Pain and suffering are frequently the the means by which we become motivated to finally surrender to God and to seek the cure of Christ. That's what we need most desperately. That's what will bring us the supreme joy of knowing Jesus."

Kreeft then goes on to have an exchange with Strobel, and in their exchange, Kreeft explains his previous statement more fully. Kreeft says,

"The practical conclusion is that, if we want to be with God, we have to be with suffering, we have to not avoid the cross, either in thought or in fact. We must go where he is and the cross is one of the places he is. And when he sends us sunrises, we thank him for the sunrises; when he sends us sunsets and deaths and sufferings and crosses, we thank him for that...

In heaven, we will do exactly that. We will say to God, 'Thank you so much for this little pain I didn't understand at the time, and that little pain I didn't understand at the time; these I now see were the most precious things in my life.'"

I don't always feel like I can say that just now, that I can always rejoice in those times I suffered, even the sufferings of years ago. And yet, I feel as if I've been able to see the small ways those pains and sufferings have moved me closer to Christ, closer to a faith that longs for the cross, closer to being the person who can, because of my own experiences, understand the pains of others, weep for the suffering of others, pray for the healing of others.

And though the girl in that picture shows such signs of pain and sadness, I know that even she found redemption, even she found the love of Christ and the hope for a new life in Him. And, to be truthful, she even has found some happiness in the least expected places.

The Simple Life

Since I got my new computer, I've had to wrestle with my addictive nature. I've already confessed my photo-taking compulsion, but I have not yet addressed my iTunes addiction. Seriously, people. It's bad.

Or at least it was for a little while. As of late, I'm not shopping up a storm on iTunes, but it is pretty tough knowing that I'm just a few clicks away from owning virtually any song I can think of. Imagine that. A music store right here on my desk. It's a temptation.

While I was in the midst of my music-buying fervor, I purchased some old stuff. Old church stuff, to be exact. Even I cringe a little bit thinking about those purchases. I'm not sure what made me do it, but I suddenly found myself buying a few songs by The Imperials. Now, for those who aren't in the know, The Imperials were a contemporary Christian group back in the day. The music is a little (okay, a lot) dated by now, but their harmonies are still amazing to hear. They really had a lot of talent.

The song I remembered most was "Eagle Song." And, as I listened to it--remembering hearing it when I was just a little girl at my Nana's house on 29th Street--I kept thinking over one line. "Simplicity of God somehow escapes man." It's in a section of the song where the lyrics are reflecting on our need to constantly question, to not be content with explanations that necessitate faith.

I know that's something that is very hard for me. I constantly question. I'm never content with an easy answer, and I usually feel like the solution to so many things must be complex or must come about by exhausting many possibilities.

But, there is this part of me that lately has come to see a simplicity to life, a simplicity of faith, of belief. I want questions of faith, questions of God even, to be so difficult to answer, and yet, the more I think about those things, the simpler they become. As if learning more about faith, more about God, makes them more a part of me, more a part of who I am. And, as I am grafted into a deeper understanding of my faith, of my God, understanding becomes quite simple because having faith and knowing God are simply part of who I am.

So, that's what I've thought about lately. It's just simple stuff, really.

Love,

Sara

The Greta

This is Greta. Normally, she's very camera shy, but for some reason, as I was trying to capture a picture of my oh so spacious kitchen, Greta decided to get in on the action. It was pretty funny to watch. So perfectly timed.

I've actually thought about posting something on Greta for a while. A few months ago, Greta had a seizure. It was really scary for me because over the past six years Greta has become such a part of my life. And, truthfully, I think I've become a better person for having Greta in my life.

That probably sounds a little weird, but I think it's true. Sometimes I think God put Greta in my life to teach me kindness, empathy, a whole lot of other things. Maybe even to teach me a little about love. Whatever the case, I'm glad He put her in my life. She's a great dog. And now you can all see how very cute she is too. :)

The Picture-Taking Addiction Continues...

You might be wondering why this girl looks so happy. There are plenty of reasons. And I don't really think the reason matters so long as I'm happy, right? ;)

I will let you all in on a secret. I invented a new cookie the other day. It's delicious. Like ridiculously delicious. It's smiling-as-big-as-I-am-in-that-picture delicious! Maybe I'll have to take some pictures of those cookies and post them here!

I hope you all had a great day!

Love,

Sara

On Kindness

Friday at the end of our Bible Study, we got to hear a beautifully sung version of Psalm 121. I know that the Psalms are, obviously, songs, but, because I've always read them, not sung them, I usually think of them as pure poetry, without any music.

And yet, our lesson that day touched on the ways that music speaks to our souls. In fact, the question was asked if it was possible that music is the language that speaks most clearly to our spirits, if our spirits somehow understand music at a greater depth than any other form of communication. I'm inclined to think that this might be true, as I think of all those songs that speak to me more deeply than spoken words can.

I know that when I've heard the words of Psalms woven into music, I feel those words more than when I just read them. One woman in our group really loved the version of Psalm 121 that we heard in Bible Study, and she wanted to know where to find similar music. I overheard her asking someone about it, so I told her that I have some similar music and would be happy to bring her a CD next week.

It's not a big deal. It's really easy for me to do, and I even had fun doing it that night, in part because it gave me something fun to do while I was sick.

But, when I told her I could make her a CD, she was overjoyed. I couldn't believe how happy such a simple gesture made her. You know, it's wonderful to see people happy when they're shown kindnesses, but it also makes me wonder why we are so surprised when people extend kindness to us. I do the same thing though. I'm equally surprised and happy to have someone be kind to me.

Perhaps that's because kindness seems rare sometimes. And perhaps that's because, though I know that being kind should come naturally to me, it sometimes doesn't. Sometimes it can be very hard. With some people, it can be very difficult to be kind. Sometimes, it even feels a little better to be unkind to certain people.

But, if I allow myself to see how difficult it is to be kind in a certain situation, I might avoid it altogether. And the more I avoid the difficult situations, the less attuned I am to seeing acts of kindness as a natural part of my life.

I guess we realize the simplicity of genuine kindness by practicing it in even the difficult times. Perhaps in practicing kindness, the language of our spirits becomes evident to others. As music speaks to the depths of our own souls, perhaps our kindnesses will speak to the souls of those around us.

One of my favorite songs talks about this. And, yes, that song made it onto the CD. It's called "Kingdom Comes," and it's by Sara Groves. Forgive me for giving you all the lyrics, but they're all so good that I just couldn't cut anything out.

"Kingdom Comes"

When anger fills your heart
When in your pain and hurt
You find the strength to stop
You bless instead of curse

When doubting floods your soul
Though all things feel unjust
You open up your heart
You find a way to trust

That's a little stone that's a little mortar
That's a little seed that's a little water
In the hearts of the sons and the daughters
The kingdom's coming

When fear engulfs your mind
Says you protect your own
You still extend your hand
You open up your home

When sorrow fills your life
When in your grief and pain
You choose again to rise
You choose to bless the name

That's a little stone that's a little mortar
That's a little seed that's a little water
In the hearts of the sons and the daughters
The kingdom's coming

In the mundane tasks of living
In the pouring out and giving
In the waking up and trying
In the laying down and dying

That's a little stone that's a little mortar
That's a little seed that's a little water
In the hearts of the sons and the daughters
The kingdom's coming

If you made it this far in the post, I send all my love to you. If you didn't, I'll still send it to you.

Love, Sara

Thoughts for Sunday

Sometimes I am amazed by the simple ways God lets us know that He really cares about us, that He really is there for us at all times, in the everyday things we usually take for granted.

Today was one of those days for me. There are many changes going on in my life. To be honest, I'm really excited about these changes. They're very positive changes, and I'm really happy about them. But they are, after all, changes. And, even with positive changes, there always comes the realization that things will be profoundly different. Changed.

And, there is a part of me (and I'm sure most all of us), that gets a little nervous about change.

So today I sat in church with some of these worries on my mind. There are usually a dozen things going on in my mind, so that's nothing new. But, I was just feeling a little out of sorts as I sat there. As we took communion, the organist started playing a song so slowly that I almost didn't recognize it. I'd only heard it once before in church. It was "Spirit of God, Descend Upon my Heart."

The first time I heard it, it spoke to me at a time when I was full of nervousness and sadness. I was feeling as if I should commit myself more deeply to my faith, and I was battling that feeling. The words of that hymn spoke to me about what a deep faith in God really means, what it truly means to follow Christ. I loved it immediately, though I knew I was being called to something that would change me deeply and permanently.

When I heard it today, I remembered that first and only other time I'd heard it in church. I remembered where I sat in church, how I felt, what I thought. And, then I thought how wonderful it was that I was hearing that same song today. Just a little bit ago, I was again thinking about the first time I heard that hymn. I remembered that the other hymn we sang that Sunday was "His Eye is on the Sparrow." I remembered that, though the first hymn had challenged me, this second hymn reminded me that God never calls us to something without also giving us the assurance that He will be there for us. And, anxious as I still felt, I knew that I could put my trust in Him.

So that's what I thought about today. I thought about how amazing it is that I heard this song again today, a reminder that God is concerned about me, does care about me, and is there in even the smallest parts of my life.

I used to always think of those things as coincidences. I would have thought that what I just wrote was really silly. I would have said, "There are plenty of important things for God to be concerned about. He's not really that concerned about the simple goings on of your life." But, back then I never looked for God. I never even thought to anticipate that God might really care about me, might really want me to have a sense of peace. I guess what has changed isn't God. What's changed is the way I see the world. I guess I'm beginning to finally appreciate that God cares very deeply for us, that there aren't as many coincidences as I originally thought. Quite honestly, I like that.

O Love that will not let me go

I've started going to a Bible Study that meets on Friday afternoons. We're studying the Psalms of Ascent (Psalms 120 to 134), and it seems like it's going to be a wonderful time of experiencing the real joy (maybe even happiness) that comes from turning to God in times of trouble. I really love these Bible Studies because it's good to see how other people are affected by reading the same things, how the words speak to their hearts and not just my own.

One really daunting but exciting part of this study is that we're writing our own Psalms. That's right. I just said writing our own Psalms. Scary, right? Well, I have to admit that I was not one of the brave souls today who shared her writing. Perhaps in time, but not today. But, I have to say that, though I didn't share today, I was deeply blessed by hearing the women who shared their writing.

I am always so impressed by these women who, though they have followed God for so long, are still so eager to learn more of Him, to know Him more. And, when I heard their writing today, it made me think of how God speaks to us in different ways at different seasons in our lives. It's beautiful, really, but as we read Psalms 120 and 121 this week, each of us in some way identified with the psalmist and his fears. Each of us had different reasons to fear, and God had different words for each of us, spoke to us all in ways that directly addressed our fears.

And the women who read their Psalms today reminded me that, through all my changes, God will still be the same. He will still be the God who speaks to me in my distress, my fear, my worry. "My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth," today and for the rest of my life. Though I will change many times during my stay here on earth, God will not change.

I've been thinking of this everlasting love lately, and this hymn has been a great joy to me. I hope you love it too.

"O Love that will not let me go"

O Love that wilt not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

O light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

Just a note about this hymn. I've been listening to a really simple and beautiful version of the hymn sung by Chris Rice. The hymn was written by George Matheson. Of the hymn, Matheson wrote,

"My hymn was com­posed in the manse of In­ne­lan [Ar­gyle­shire, Scot­land] on the ev­en­ing of the 6th of June, 1882, when I was 40 years of age. I was alone in the manse at that time. It was the night of my sister’s mar­ri­age, and the rest of the fam­i­ly were stay­ing over­night in Glas­gow. Some­thing hap­pened to me, which was known only to my­self, and which caused me the most se­vere men­tal suf­fer­ing. The hymn was the fruit of that suf­fer­ing. It was the quick­est bit of work I ever did in my life. I had the im­press­ion of hav­ing it dic­tat­ed to me by some in­ward voice ra­ther than of work­ing it out my­self. I am quite sure that the whole work was com­plet­ed in five min­utes, and equal­ly sure that it ne­ver re­ceived at my hands any re­touch­ing or cor­rect­ion. I have no na­tur­al gift of rhy­thm. All the other vers­es I have ever writ­ten are man­u­fact­ured ar­ti­cles; this came like a day­spring from on high" (from Cyberhymnal).

Can you imagine a more exquisite way to find God in the midst of suffering? Like a dayspring from on high. I love it.

Pictorial Proof of Needed Prayer

The new Mac might be creating a monster. And that monster might be me. You see, the new computer has a camera built right into it. It's like having a toy on my desk.

And that has been a little dangerous. Now, I've never been much of a picture taker, but this little camera is pretty fun. I'll show you some of the evidence.

This is me this evening:



I also decided to look like I was deep in thought about something:



Perhaps I was deep in thought about how much I need a manicure. Look at those nails! :) But, then I thought I'd try for "sitting at my desk, so happy I could burst":



This afternoon, I even tried to get Greta in on the act:



But she wasn't having it, so I tried for happy, upbeat photo of me again:



Do you see what I mean? I'm turning into a photo monster. This is surely what happens when an only child's dream comes true--constant access to a camera that was designed to take pictures of just one person. Pray for me, people. This can't be good!

;)

Sara

Running through the Rain

I went for a run yesterday. The first time it's been warm enough for me to get out and run, though the weather was still not so good. It was gray out and sprinkling as I set out on the run. The sprinkling turned to harder rain, but I kept running.

I had my new iPod filled with songs, and good ones kept coming on. While I was out, the play list included songs about God's redemption, grace, and love. Somehow, out there in the rain, running down the street, I just felt so close to God. Out of shape as I was, I felt this desire to keep running, felt this ability to keep running. And it felt good.

You know, it's so easy to see God on a beautiful day, to imagine how He made the sky so beautiful and blue. But isn't it good to know that on those gray and rainy days, we can find Him too?

On Crosses and Love

In my bedroom, there is a cross that hangs above the door, and I can see it from my bed. There are times when I see that cross and feel some sort of tugging on my heart, some sort of feeling that draws my heart closer to that cross and closer to what that cross represents. I know that perhaps that sounds a bit overly sentimental, and I admit I'm pretty guilty of being overly sentimental a times.

And yet, that's not what's going on when this happens. It is as if I, once again, am drawn to that which was written on my heart and soul, this knowledge of the saving grace of Christ's death on the cross. It's as if I, once again, feel in my own heart some small portion of the love of Christ.

And it is His love, so perfect and unending, which lets me know that, no matter how difficult my own cross is to bear, I will never bear it alone; I will always have some help in bearing the burden, shouldering the weight. It is His love which gives me the faith to love Him, to allow myself to believe that God loves me, to allow myself to accept His love.

The other day I was reading a book, Basic Christianity, which I've been slowly working through for some months now. I came across a passage that really spoke to my heart, really reminded me of why I became a Christian. Here it is:

"Only a sight of the cross will make us willing to deny ourselves and follow Christ. Our little crosses are eclipsed by his. If we once catch a glimpse of the greatness of his love to suffer such shame and pain for us who deserved nothing but judgment, only one course of action will seem to be left. How can we deny or reject such a lover?

If, then, you suffer from moral anaemia, take my advice and steer clear of Christianity. If you want to live a life of easy-going self-indulgence, whatever you do, do not become a Christian. But if you want a life of self-discovery, deeply satisfying to the nature God has given you; if you want a life of adventure in which you have the privilege of serving him and your fellow men; if you want a life in which to express something of the overwhelming gratitude you are beginning to feel for him who died for you, then I would urge you to yield your life, without reserve and without delay, to you Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ" (119).

I read it and, again, I just felt that tugging on my heart, that feeling of my heart welling up inside my chest. Perhaps I am overly sentimental. And yet, I don't believe that's all there is to it. I believe that feeling in my heart is the knowledge that some great truth is being revealed, and that truth is the saving grace of Christ.

What is God?

While I was home over break, I got to spend some time with my friend Katy, her husband Joe, and their baby John. I think John is one of the cutest babies I've ever known, though I might be a bit biased because he really likes me, and isn't it really easy to have a good deal of fondness for someone who has a good deal of fondness for you?

Well, whatever the case, he is a cute little guy, and he's gotten to a stage where he's learning to use language. He's speaking words, putting together sentences, asking questions. It's such an exciting thing to see this small child learning to express himself, and it's fun to try to understand what he's saying in his own language and to see him learning the language of adults.

He's a really sweet child too, and, when his mom gives him his dinner he says, "Thank you mommy cooking." I think of how wonderful it must be to see your child expressing gratitude, beginning to understand how to verbalize his appreciation and love for the things you do. I know it made me feel good to know that, when I left, John began saying, "Need Sara." It's nice to know you are loved and missed.

Over the last few months, I've been giving a lot of thought to what it is to have a relationship with God, how one goes about doing that. For so long, I have thought of religion as a list of do's and dont's, with a big emphasis on the don't. But I never really thought about God in that list, save for the part where he sends you to hell for doing all the things on the "don't" part of the list.

In a way, my thoughts about religion had very little to do with God and very much to do with rules. And, the thing is, it was very difficult to think about having a relationship with God when I thought about God as a list of rules, when I thought of God solely as someone who was waiting to catch me slipping up so that He could punish me.

It's true that I believe in the rules and I believe in punishment. But, I kept thinking that there must be something more, there must be something to inspire a deep and transformative love in those who believe in Christ, that there must be a depth of love which would cause me to not even want to sin. I often pray that I can better understand love. In fact, I sometimes even pray that I will learn to love people and see people as God sees them.

I've said before that you have to be very careful about what you pray for because you often get it; unfortunately I haven't been practicing what I preach. And the result of those prayers has been catching up with me. This is a side effect of praying to a God who hears and answers our prayers. Lately, I have been growing in an understanding of love, of the kind of love that God must have for us, and I must admit that I don't think that as humans we will ever understand the depth of love that God has for us.

We often live our lives concentrating on the negative things we've done, said, thought. Those sins we've confessed a hundred times, those very sins that are now as far as the East is from the West, still haunt us and keep us from understanding the truth that Christ died for us while we were still sinners. Greater love hath no man, than that a man lay down his life for a friend. And that is the kind of love He has for us. I'm just not sure it's the kind of love we can fully comprehend.

And yet, when I look around, I see the things God uses to show us small glimpses of His love here on earth. He uses us in ways more beautiful than we can imagine. In the simplest exchanges of every day--in the baby's words to his mom, in the kindness of a nurse at the doctor's office, in the unexpected words of kindness that touch us so deeply that we feel them in our hearts and souls--God gives us opportunities to experience His love.

And, though we so often feel that God must be looking down on us in scorn, I think we must remember that God is love, that He loves us no matter our failings, that He loves me no more than the person sitting next to me on the bus. And I have to thing that the God who delights over us and rejoices over us with singing must surely be filled with love when He witnesses those small kindnesses we show one another.

Like one seeing His child grow in love for others, God must take great satisfaction and delight as we grow in love for Him and for our neighbor. And maybe by learning to look at ourselves and those around us as God does, we can begin to understand a love for which there is no end.

Keeping It Real

I really don't like talking about the deep, personal stuff in my life. You know, I normally figure that people should keep that sort of stuff to themselves. If anyone really wanted to know those sorts of things about someone, they'd ask. And, well, who on earth thinks to ask the kind of questions that open up that sort of can of worms?

So, I'm brought back to the idea that people should keep those deep, personal thoughts to themselves. Except that sometimes it's good to let it out. Sometimes when someone tells you something about him or herself, you kind of identify with them a little bit more. Maybe you see that they're more like you than you had originally thought, or maybe you find out that those things that make them different from you are some of the best things about them. Or maybe you see that there's someone else who has the same struggles you have, and just knowing that makes you feel a little less alone.

Well, in the spirit of sharing, I think I'll give it a go and tell you all some personal stuff about me, one thing in particular.

I have a totally dysfunctional relationship in my life. That's right. A completely dysfunctional relationship. And it's been a part of my life for a very long time. You might be wondering who this relationship is with. Well, it's very close to me, this dysfunctional relationship. It lives right here in my house, and it's not Greta.

This relationship is with my bathroom scale. I'm being serious here. Very serious, in fact. A bad morning with this scale can cause my whole day to be rotten. I think about it often, concentrating on ways to make the scale love me just a little more.

And yet, our relationship is still bad. Still dysfunctional.

I was talking about weight with a friend tonight, specifically talking about how upset it makes me that I have gained weight recently. It's especially upsetting because I had worked very hard to get in shape, and now I feel as if I'm back where I started. Much worse, I feel like I look like I'm just back where I started. Annoying.

But, when I told my friend how troubling this was to me, he said, "But you're happier now."

I have to admit that I hadn't really thought of it like that. I mean, I've gained weight, and that doesn't exactly make me happy. Not at all, really. It makes me the opposite of happy.

But, I'm happier. He was right. It got me thinking about how we judge happiness, how we sometimes focus on one area of unhappiness and use that as a scale of our general state of being. It's easy to do that when that one area of unhappiness plays a big role in our lives. And, as I'm guessing you can see, the relationship with my scale plays no small part in my life. And yet, it is not my whole life. It is just one part.

However, I was feeling as if it was what defined my happiness and failing to see all the good in my life. Failing to acknowledge that, despite the annoying weight gain, I've been learning so much about faith and God and life that I can't help but be happier. Perhaps this failure to see the good is what happens when we put things before God, when we look to circumstances to define ourselves, rather than acknowledging the truth that we are defined through our relationship with the One who gave us life, the One who gave us the opportunity to experience happiness and the One who gives us the strength to meet the difficulties that we all must endure.

Perhaps my prayer should be that I remember where my happiness comes from. And, I guess it wouldn't hurt to say those prayers while I go out for a run. After all, the God of my life also gave me the ability to run, and it might be good to take advantage of that gift while I can.