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?