from the mixed-up files of...

On Patience (or a lack thereof)

2011-05-14T01:57:00.001-05:00

When I was young, I wasn’t much of a reader. Now I read all the time. Perhaps I even read a little too much now, but when I was a kid I didn’t have much use for books, didn’t see any real point to reading.

Part of that not reading was due to my suspicion that the really good books would come later, when I was older, abler, whatever it was that I needed to be to read those big books with small print and no pictures. Those, I thought, were what reading really was.

It’s a familiar story, a kid wanting to be a grown up, not content to be just a kid.

I think part of what makes that story so familiar is that so many of us struggle with the patience it takes to live right now without thought to the future or without the expectation that the future holds something better. Or, maybe that’s just me.

The other day in church the sermon was about the Prodigal Son. Actually, it was about several parables, but, as always, it was the Prodigal Son who stood out to me. He is a little bit me, as I am a little bit him, as we all are a little bit prodigal.

When I think of the parable of the Prodigal Son, I’m usually moved by the grace that his father shows; that’s what I focus on most. But, this time I was thinking about something different. I was thinking about patience. As one who has no patience, I think about patience a lot, as one who has lost something valuable remains fixated on that object until it is found. Fixated on the how and why and where that object has gone.

However, I’ve never had patience. My patience is not lost. It is simply nonexistent. And yet, I know it should be there. And so I think about it.

Patience stood out to me precisely because of the Prodigal Son’s lack of patience. He wanted his inheritance. Now. Not later. The son had plans for now, and those plans could not wait for later.

His request for the inheritance obviously goes against tradition. However, inheritance, in and of itself, is not a bad thing. It is what the son would have been entitled to and his father’s heir. In that way, the inheritance itself is a financial benefit for the son and is also more or less morally neutral. It did not cause the moral decay of the Prodigal Son any more than it could edify him.

To me, the problem is not the inheritance. It’s the timing of the inheritance. The Prodigal Son received his inheritance before he was ready for it. Though money alone could not corrupt him, it could give him the means to pursue his baser desires, to move away from the safety of his family to a place where he would be free to do as he chose. He was not ready for such freedom because his heart and soul and mind were focused on his own whims and needs, not on those things that would provide a firm foundation for a life.

In thinking of the story in this way, I’m reminded all the more of the importance of the virtue of patience. There are so many times when I wish for something—perhaps an actual thing or more likely for something to happen in my life. I wonder why those things don’t come immediately, why there has to be waiting. So, now I’m trying (with gritted teeth) to remember that waiting has a purpose. Sometimes God makes us wait, knowing that we don’t yet have the capacity or strength to handle what He has for us, knowing that receiving all of our gifts at once—before our own hearts and souls and minds are focused on what is good and right and true—will lead to a squandering of fortune.

And so, I wait to read the story He has written for me, the one with the words I don't yet understand.

Why I've Gone (just a little bit) "Team Sheen"

2011-03-04T23:32:00.001-06:00

By now, the Charlie Sheen sound bites are ubiquitous, quickly becoming a part of our collective knowledge, as Charlie Sheen, via every available media, brings us such terms as “tigerblood,” “rockstar from Mars,” and “winning” (in its new Sheen-ian usage).

We know these terms mainly due to the fact that they’re played repeatedly. Those sound bites are good for ratings. We eat up anything laced with schadenfreude, and, for better or worse, even “serious” journalists are willing to serve up such stories, despite the harm they might do to their subject or to our communal spirit.

We wouldn’t watch it if it wasn’t there; they wouldn’t report it if we didn’t want it. A cyclical argument that gets nowhere fast and bears too much resemblance to the arguments for and against certain fast food chains sporting golden arches. Let’s just say, this media circus is supersized—perhaps because the supply is inflated, perhaps because demand is high. It’s an interesting argument, but I’m not worried about it. Like I said, it gets nowhere fast, and I just don’t want to go nowhere.

I think there’s a more serious issue within this media frenzy, one that is getting overlooked. The fact is, for the past seven or so years, Charlie Sheen has been playing a character not so dissimilar to the man we’re seeing almost constantly on the news—a womanizing bachelor who takes pleasure, even pride, in his hard-partying lifestyle. The thing is, on television, this character is played with a wry smile and hints of a debauched side that the viewer never fully sees, and, though his antics speak to a shallow well of narcissism, he’s the guy everyone likes because he is fun and because, at his core, there is some good.

Conversely, when the real Charlie steps out and displays the kind of behavior that his TV character hints at, the same people who write, produce, and direct his show are quick to distance themselves; they’re quick to censure him, to tell him that this sort of behavior reflects poorly on the show and to, essentially, let the public know that Charlie is acting in ways they do not approve of.

That his behavior is bad is common sense to those of us watching at home, but I do wonder if the outraged parties realize that it is precisely this type of behavior that they’ve profited from for years, even if it was mere fiction created for a sitcom. The antics and humorous asides his on-screen bad behavior leads to is where they get their laughs and, in turn, their big payouts.

Again, that Charlie Sheen is behaving badly isn’t news to anyone. What seems to surprise the powers that be at CBS is that such bad behavior has negative consequences. It’s okay to draw a character that acts like Charlie; it’s not okay when that character is an actual human being, possibly struggling with the physical and mental stresses that accompany substance abuse. The message they send is, “We want Charlie to act like that, not actually be like that.”

But, the character they’ve created, while fictional, survives by perpetuating an even greater fiction—the fiction of a selfish, substance-using playboy who miraculously exists without inflicting lasting psychic damage on those who love and care about him. He makes mistakes; he messes everything up, but, in just the length of a TV episode, everything is back on track. However, anyone who knows, loves, and cares about someone struggling with addiction, sees through that fiction. Anyone who knows, loves, and cares about someone struggling with addiction has had to deal with the very real damage that such a struggle causes. The damage isn’t funny, can’t be solved in thirty minutes, and certainly doesn’t come with the sort of profit a hit sitcom does.

So, maybe in the midst of this media blitz I’ve become a bit “Team Sheen.” Or, if not that, I’m feeling more strongly that the entertainment makers should be a little more responsible with the images they create. Their fictions are some of our real lives, and, as we see more of the Sheen story unfold (or, perhaps, unravel) the only laughter is canned.

Please Help SHIP!

2010-06-26T22:00:00.001-05:00

We love these kids. We love every single one of them. We’ve seen them grow up over the years, start school, graduate, go to college. We’ve seen them fall in love with those of you who’ve gone to El Salvador. We’ve seen their faces light up when they get their Christmas gifts from those who’ve sent them. We’ve seen the love they show each other and us, and we’ve known that in them we see Christ.

They are a family. They are our family. But, our family is in trouble.

Today we visited the orphanage and learned that the orphanage is in danger of being shut down. The government agency in charge of child welfare (CONNA) thinks there are too many problems with the orphanage. The building needs to be bigger; repairs need to be made; they need more people on staff. We have until October 15 to make that happen.

Even if all repairs are made and staff added, CONNA still believes that the building is only big enough for 15 children. There are 34 children in our family.This means that 19 of our kids will be taken from the only loving home they’ve known and placed in an impersonal, government-run orphanage.

These are children who have known physical and sexual abuse, abandonment, neglect. Many of our children have been through the government system before; some of them still carry the scars of it. We can’t let our children go back to that. We can’t look at the faces in that picture and choose who we could part with.

We need the new orphanage now—sooner than now if possible. We need $130,000 to complete construction. We need your prayers. We need to keep our family together.

http://shipinternational.org/

Late Night Blogging...

2010-04-23T09:14:00.003-05:00

Oh my...

Last night I posted a little entry on this blog. But, it was meant to go on the other blog...

I decided to leave it here and also post it there as a reminder of my absent-mindedness. You know, it's little things like these that keep us, uh, humble.

:)

Sara

Mullet: Revisited, Sort Of

2010-04-22T23:06:00.004-05:00

Well, it's sure been a little while since I last posted. Unfortunately, today's picture requires a little bit of context, and I'm afraid that by now you might have forgotten that around the age of eleven I had a mullet.

Oh, wait. You hadn't forgotten that? Yeah, me neither. There's still a mullet-shaped scar on my heart. Or, um, something like that.

Anyways, back to our regularly scheduled post. So, I had a mullet. I knew it was bad; you've all seen that it was bad; the world in general knew that I was walking around with the worst haircut ever invented. I wanted and needed to do something about it.

That's when I hatched my brilliant plan. I would have the party-in-back removed. That is, I would get the back of my hair (the very essence of its mullet-ness) removed. I came up with this plan while at Methodist summer camp and shared it with my cabin mate, Barbie. You might remember her from the camp photo. She's the girl wearing blue shorts, folding her arms across her chest, and looking like she wouldn't think twice about ripping your fingers off one by one if you so much as thought about taking the last serving of fruit crumble in the camp cafeteria.

In truth, Barbie was a real peach of a girl. When I told her about the plan for mullet removal, she gave me a pained look and told me that, really, cutting it off would just make it worse.

Despite Barbie's wise yet somehow dubious-sounding advice, I'd made up my mind that I was due for a haircut as soon as I made it back from Methodist summer camp. So I did it. Here it is:

Now, at about this moment, you might be thinking that Barbie had a point. Let's be honest, most girls look to the moms for fashion advice, and, if they could choose to look like one parent, most girls would probably want to look like their moms. You'd think I'd be the same way. After all, I've got a super cute mom. That is, I've got a super cute mom, if every guy I've ever dated is to be believed. If every therapist I've ever seen is to be believed, knowing that might have had a negative impact on my psyche. Only joking, folks. I'm just fine. :)

But, the thing is, I think trying to look like my mom might have been aiming just a little too high for me at that moment. After all, I was an eleven year old sporting a mullet and occasionally wearing white plastic shorts with light yellow LL Bean sweaters. Maybe it was healthiest for me to just look at my dad and think, "Hey. He's got decent hair. That's the kind of thing I could actually do."

So that's what I did. The haircut was followed by months of being asked whether I was a boy or a girl, but those are the kind of childhood memories that build characters. And, more importantly, they're the kind of childhood memories that have allowed several therapists to take extended Caribbean cruises. In the end, everyone wins.

Hope, when it doesn't make sense

2010-03-30T01:38:00.003-05:00

I went to El Salvador over the break. I love it there, and there are so many things that I want to tell you, so many things and stories to write. I miss the kids; I want to be there right this second; sometimes I wish I never had to leave.

But there's another side of visiting El Salvador, and that's a tougher side to think about. At some point, along with feeling such joy at seeing all the kids, I feel an immense sadness. It's the kind of sadness that comes from knowing that there is such cruelty in the world. Knowing that parents really do abandon their children. Knowing that children really are kidnapped, that young women are sold into slavery. Knowing that, for someone, other people are simply a product to be bought, sold, profited from.

There are those moments when it seems like you are confronted with all the sadness, sickness, sinfulness of the whole world. That you might be trapped beneath the weight of it all, crushed and hurt and crying for a world that is hurting so much.

It's hard to feel hopeful. It's hard to see the good. It's hard to believe that there is anything but cruelty.

But, in each of the children at the orphanage, I see some sense of hope. I see the immensity of goodness, and I feel a wealth of kindness and love that cannot be described.

Perhaps I feel those things because we are in that season for seeking hope; we are, in some sense, awaiting the Resurrection. We know it has already come, and yet each of us looks forward to celebrating that thing which speaks to each of our souls, which lets us know that there is some greater good, that there is some greater love which allows us to live each day in the hope that this world, torn and broken as it is, was conceived in love.

God bless us in those days when it seems difficult to find hope. God bless those who show us Christ, who give us reason to believe.

Love,

Sara

To everything, a season

2010-03-04T23:33:00.003-06:00

Lately I've been reading a lot of autobiographies and memoirs. I'm not quite sure what started this kick, but there's something I love about the stories people tell about their own lives, especially the stories of their families.

In keeping with this reading theme, I picked up a book the other day--The Invisible Wall by Harry Bernstein. Bernstein tells the story of growing up in the time just before, during, and just after the first World War. But, this isn't a story of battles or even of what occurred in the larger cities during that time. Bernstein's family lived in a small village, no place really remarkable. Except that it was remarkable.

Or, maybe that is to say that the village was remarkable in the same ways that each of our towns are remarkable, that each small town or village has a life all its own that sets it apart from every other place. The life of Bernstein's village was distinct not for what brought it together, but for what separated it, the invisible wall of the title. This invisible wall was what separated the Jewish villagers from the Christian villagers; it was that thing which reminded them that they were not alike, that there was no way for them to be joined.

But, the war, which claimed the lives of several villagers, was one thing that briefly unified this divided place. Bernstein, then just a small boy, remembers the reactions of the women as they learned of the deaths of their sons,

"The women cried with one another, put arms around one another, and it didn't seem to matter whether you were Jewish or Christian, you just mourned" (160).

It didn't seem to matter. That's an interesting phrase. So often we say something similar to connote that something isn't important, but what is happening when these women are crying together, embracing each other, mourning each others losses, is something very important because, in their coming together, the invisible wall is briefly brought down.

When I read that part of the book, I thought of the first verses of Ecclesiastes 3:

1For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

2 a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
3 a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4 a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5 a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6 a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
7 a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8 a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.

And, I guess what stands out to me is that everyone experiences these things. There is nothing to say that one religion or race or gender will experiences pain and loss, joy and laughter. We all experience these things. We all hurt. We all smile. We all need help when we hurt. We all hope to see other smiling faces when we are glad.

It is in these moments we all share that there is a real possibility of showing Christ's love and compassion, maybe even more so than when someone sets out with the intention of sharing the Gospel. St. Francis of Assisi once said, "Preach the Gospel at all times and when necessary use words." Perhaps it is in our shared moments of hurt, joy, pain, and love that we are ablest to preach the Gospel. If nothing else, perhaps we can try it, and hopefully we will begin to feel our invisible walls start to fall.

Love,

Sara

Hey, I have another blog!

2010-02-19T00:18:00.005-06:00

Well, just like the title of this post says, I've got another blog. You should check it out. It will make you a better person. Or, at least it will give you a chance to laugh at my complete awkwardness.

diaryofanonlychild.blogspot.com

That's the address. I hope you go there. I hope you like it. I hope it makes all your dreams come true.

Love you, people!

Sara

Good Sundays

2010-02-07T22:45:00.002-06:00

Some Sundays, church just feels even better than others. Today was one of those days. As I got ready for church, I kept feeling so excited to be going there, so ready to be sitting in the pew surrounded by everyone.

I guess there are just times when you feel so much more aware of God's presence. Times when you just know that what you are doing there in church is worshiping Him, giving Him thanks. And, then you're singing "Redeemed," and you just know that it's true. The pastor prays, and, as always, his prayers sound like hug and feel like love.

It was one of those Sundays. In from the cold and snow, into the warmth.

Love,

Sara

Seasons. Seasons? Seasons!

2009-10-26T20:48:00.008-05:00

I know that a lot of you live in places that, while beautiful, are devoid of seasons. I used to be one of you. I know how you feel. You feel a little cheated, a little sad, a little like you lost out on the geographical lottery.

Yeah, I used to be that way too. But, then I moved here, and, honestly, seasons are overrated. Sure, they’re pretty, but winter…

Oh, winter. It lasts stinkin’ forever. And it’s nothing like a winter wonderland. It’s kind of awful at times.

Okay, enough with the pity party. Because I know that all the seasonally-deprived readers might want to see what autumn looks like, I took some pictures.

I took a little walk around my neighborhood, and this is what I saw.

Please note the name of the park. (That’s a little shout-out to my Nana).

Sometimes, you’ve got to look down to see the really pretty leaves.

But, sometimes (before they all fall off) you have to look up.

And, just to let you know, even in this season of changes, some little things stay the same.

Love you all so much!

Sara

A little game

2009-10-09T02:00:00.003-05:00

I've had a pretty lovely day today. The weather hasn't been very pretty, but, for some reason, I've been okay with this drizzly, chilly weather. It gave me a chance to wear my new jacket, so that's a pretty nice perk.

Just a while ago I was looking through some pictures of the El Salvador orphanage though, and it just made me miss being there so much. I especially felt that way when I saw a picture of Javier. Each little one is my absolute favorite, but when I saw Javi's picture I missed him so incredibly much. Mainly, I missed this game we play, "Cuántos besitos necesitas?"

It's not a real game. It's just something I made up, just being silly with Javi. It means, "How many kisses do you need?" So, I ask Javi, and he will hold up 3 or 5 or ten fingers. Then I give him a kiss on each cheek while counting up to the number he told me. But he always turns his head so that I give him extra kisses. That's part of the game.

I know it's silly, but that's one of my favorite things. And, I guess I miss him so much because I know that there is only so long that a little boy will let you dote on him like that. But, maybe that's what makes those times so incredibly precious. Whatever it is, I'm so looking forward to going back there in January. Maybe I should start counting down the days. :)

Love,

Sara

Better For

2009-10-02T20:20:00.003-05:00

I was just reading Psalm 1, because it always helps to remind me of the way I should be, not the way I often am or the way that is easiest to be. To me it speaks about the sort of goodness we are to strive for, the sort of kindness we are to show.

But, it also got me thinking about how helpful it is to have friends who share faith, to be around people who understand that there is something greater and that that something greater is God. I definitely don't mean that I want to hole up in a compound with a bunch of other Christians. I think that would be disastrous and completely contrary to how Christ would have His followers live their lives. it's hard to be a light in the dark when that light is hidden away, right?

No, what I mean is that it can be such a comfort and a help to know that there are people I can turn to for advice, people who inspire me to want more and to be more than I might be inclined to otherwise. I think that Christians are often thought of as seeing ourselves as "better than" those who aren't. I'm not sure I would completely disagree with that. Sometimes it's hard to remember humility while striving for holiness.

Reading Psalm 1 really made me question that though. Is it that I want to be "better than" other people? Or, perhaps a better question is, is being "better than" even something that should cross my mind? I have to think that it shouldn't. It seems pretty obvious that the standard of goodness and holiness is Christ and that that is a standard I can never be "better than." But, when I think of how I interact with my Christian brothers and sisters, maybe the wiser thing is to try to be "better for" one another, not to measure ourselves by one another, but to follow the example of Christ as best we can so that we may be an encouragement to each other. If we strive to be "better" (better than our pasts, better than the bad we encounter everyday, better than what we sometimes want to be) maybe we are in some ways doing it for each other, showing each other that we aren't just individuals working our separate paths to holiness, but that we need each other, that we are there for each other.

But, that's just my idea.

Love you all,

Sara

The need for God

2009-09-20T18:24:00.002-05:00

A few months ago, I came across and article by Matthew Parris, "As an Atheist, I truly believe Africa needs God." Here's the link if you want to read it yourself:

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/columnists/matthew_parris/article5400568.ece

Now, the title alone is completely intriguing. I saw it somewhere and had to find out what Parris was talking about. I'm not going to completely give the article away; you should really read it for yourself because it's good. But, one of the main ideas in the article is that Parris sees a way that Christianity, taught and practiced by those who are volunteering, working with NGOs, or even serving as missionaries in Africa has a way of transforming the lives of the people living on that amazingly vast continent. Though Parris mentions that there are many NGOs that are secular in nature and that those organizations offer much help, he argues that those organizations, apart from faith, don't seem to have the same power to actually change lives, to give people a sort of sense of self, a sense of their own worth.

This interests me a lot. Mainly, it interests me because, like Parris, I was long skeptical of missions work, thinking that faith might be a motivating factor which led people to want to serve others but not seeing that faith as integral to their work or to the extent to which that work could really affect others. And, I was troubled by the kind of work that seemed predicated on the idea that those who hold religious convictions were somehow superior to those who didn't. But, that's not it. That's not it at all.

Over the last couple of years, I guess I've come to appreciate that so many of those people who feel moved by their religious convictions to serve are not doing so because they feel that they are somehow better than those whom they serve. It's not about that. It's about love. It's about looking at someone (someone who might have more than me, someone who might have less than me) and appreciating the worth of that person, knowing that that person has just as much worth as anyone else. And, it's about being moved by that love, listening to that still, small voice that tells us that we must help when and where we can. And, it's about knowing that God, in His infinite love for each of us has called us to service. And, He's called each of us to tell others about Him, difficult as that may be at times.

So, that's what the article made me think about. Read it. You'll like it.

And I like you! Each and every one of you.

Love,

Sara

If I were a singer...

2009-09-17T00:18:00.002-05:00

Well, I've been taking voice lessons, and they're going really well. I feel like I do whenever I go back to swimming. Everything is kind of new and difficult, a bit of a struggle, but I feel like my voice is getting stronger.

When my voice teacher asked what kind of music I like singing, I said I really liked classical. I mean, I love singing these wonderful, amazingly high pieces where it feels like my voice just keeps going up and up, almost floating above me. If I ever focused on music, I think I'd want to be an opera singer.

But, the other day I came across a singer I hadn't heard before. Her name is Sarah McMillan, and her CD Under Your Bright Wings is one of the most beautiful things I've heard in a while. It has such a great soulful feel to it. I want to listen to this music while sleeping on a screened in porch sometime in summer. "Flesh and Bone" is my favorite song on the CD. Listening to her music, I feel like her style would almost be tied with singing classical music for me. So, if ever you hear that I've run away from my studies, you can probably bet that I'm either singing opera or that I've borrow Sarah McMillan's style and started writing my own stuff. :)

So, check out her stuff. It's gorgeous. You will love it!

And, I (of course) love you!

Sara

Sometimes there is desert, but in it there are streams

2009-09-14T23:08:00.003-05:00

Last week when I was at Bible study, Carrie (who leads the study) told us about a book that she loves. I'm so glad she did because it's a book I love too. It's called Streams in the Desert, and it's been around for quite a while. The book is a collection of short readings, one for each day of the year. It's kind of a compilation of many different writers with one editor who rather elegantly brings it all together, and the readings revolve around the theme of God's protection and care for us.

The funny thing is, the first time I met Carrie she recommended the book to me. Even funnier was that, somewhere packed in a box, I already had the book. I'd had it since I was about fifteen. I got it from a youth group leader shortly after I told her that I was really struggling with my faith. I remember her telling me that I should read this book. I thought it was pretty nice, but I also remember thinking that it felt awfully weird to be reading something about the Bible, like in my spare time. When I didn't have to do it. I surely didn't keep up with the daily reading; I perhaps read five of the readings.

I guess I just didn't understand why this book would help me with my struggle with faith. I mean, it seemed to be about the Bible, and, let's be honest, growing up going to church and Christian school, I knew a lot about the Bible. I thought that my struggle with faith was something that would sort of fix itself, not really seeing how getting to know more about God, about His Word, might bring me closer to the fullness of faith. But, it does.

My friend Alanna once said that if you want to get to know someone, you talk to that person. She said it was the same with God. I thought that was cute and quaint. But, I didn't really buy it. When she told me that, I thought of God as an abstract concept, maybe even something that existed because we humans, in our fear of the unknown, had invented Him.

But, a few months after my conversation with Alanna, I started questioning what I thought about God, what I knew of faith, what I wanted that to mean in my life. And, even though I had thought that God was just a concept, a placebo that made us forget our troubles but didn't actually do anything, that way of thinking about God just couldn't explain the hole I had in my heart, the constant pull I felt to somehow know Him. To know God.

And so I tried to get to know Him. I sought Him out wherever I might find Him. I read and prayed and cried when I didn't understand why this God who I hadn't given much thought to in years seemed so intent on getting me to seek Him.

But, you know, even if getting to know God was not without its pains and struggles, I know He was always there for me. Maybe that's why I love Streams in the Desert so much. It reminds me of God's ever-present love and care. And, who doesn't need to be reminded of that? Life is hard. God is good. Always.

I love you all so very, very much!

Sara

A reunion, of sorts

2009-09-10T22:23:00.003-05:00

Tonight I went to Bible study. It was an anniversary or reunion of sorts. I'm not really sure which. Two years ago, this was the first Bible study I'd ever gone to. This was the Bible study where I ended up bearing my soul and crying to a complete stranger who ended up becoming a friend. And it was the Bible study that helped shore me up at a time when I just wasn't sure what I needed to be doing with my life.

When I sat there tonight, I thought back to that first night. There I was in a Baptist church, a denomination whose doors I thought I'd never darken again. I was the youngest woman there, sitting among a group of sweet older ladies, the kind of ladies who make those church lady cookies that I love so much. "El Shaddai" was playing, and I seriously considered bolting, as I thought about how completely out of place I was at this Bible study, in this Baptist church, among these sweet, older ladies who went to church every Sunday and looked so angelic. I mean, I kind of felt like a fake. I wasn't one of them. I was just this girl who needed somewhere to go. And, there I was, in the last place on earth I ever thought I'd be.

Tonight I didn't feel so out of place, didn't feel like a fake. I don't even think I was the youngest person there, though I still enjoyed one of those delicious cookies. Older church ladies are so good at those. But, I kept thinking, maybe more like wondering what it was that brought me there, what it was that made me keep coming back when there was nothing at that Bible study that I could really relate to. I mean, the enthusiastic people so excited about God? The contemporary Christian music (that was actually no longer contemporary)? None of it looked like me, sounded like me.

But, then I remembered Isaiah 53. I memorized it in school when I was a kid. It's beautiful and haunting. It tells of a Christ who is to come, the same Jesus that we don't even get to meet until the Gospels. I that chapter, there is a part of a verse, "He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him." It's talking about Jesus, saying that there was nothing to draw us to Him. Except that everything was there. Is there. Hope and love and salvation and goodness. Those things that we crave and need. They were all there, even though we couldn't see it because we didn't look past the surface.

But, maybe we knew. Maybe there was a still, small voice telling us that, though we could not see all of that goodness, it was there.

I love you,

Sara

Recovery

2009-09-08T00:15:00.002-05:00

I'm still on the kick of reading about addiction, and I just finished a book by Heather King, Parched. I read it partly because I read another book by her and pretty well adored it, and I wanted to read about her struggle with alcoholism which she'd talked a bit about in the book I'd already read.

I'm not going to lie. This book was hard to read. There were times when it just hurt to read how enslaved she was to her addiction, how it ruled every aspect of her life, how it could have killed her had she not gotten help.

But, the book also reminded me that there is redemption even in the bleakest of circumstances, that there is still some hope of a rebirth of one's spirit. That maybe there is a chance to recover a life that seems lost.

It's maybe that hope that makes me read these books. It's that searching out of those people who have been broken and hurt but still seem to almost come back to life. It's the wonder in seeing that God looks far beyond the surface of each of us--past the addictions and vices and scars--and knows that there is something beautiful in us. Knows that there is some way, even in our our failings, that we may be a light to others, that we may be Christ's feet and hands here on earth, that we may bring Him glory and honor.

And that's something very beautiful, very hopeful.

Love you much,

Sara

I want to ride my bicycle!

2009-09-06T22:54:00.005-05:00

Okay, you guessed it. This post is about bicycling.

The other day, spurred on by some odd yet unquenchable desire, I bought a bike. I had this idea that it would be nice to have the option of biking to school rather than always taking the bus, so I went out and bought a bike.

Now let me tell you a secret. I'm stinking in love with this bike. I took it for a test ride, and it was the most amazing biking experience ever. That, and the bike is just beautiful. It's a white Gary Fisher with silver designs. I'm in love.

I wanted to take it out on a trail, so today after church I went to Lake of the Woods in Mahomet. It's really close to Champaign but a little more woodsy. To be honest, I'd really hoped that the park would be a little more removed from houses and things, maybe even that the trail would be a little more rugged, but the area it so pretty that I soon got over my desire to be in the middle of nowhere. There was even some wildlife, which was really cool. I saw three small deer, at least one rabbit, squirrels, and (I'm not even kidding) a chipmunk. A chipmunk, people! It was too cute.

So, there I was, riding the bike trail, enjoying nature, and loving my new bike. It was a gorgeous day, and it was really peaceful out there. I started going down a really fun hill, speeding up and thinking how cool it was to be so fast and free feeling. And then, I saw that there was a bike coming my direction. And on that bike was a little, old man. Seriously. I panicked. I swerved slightly. Thankfully, we avoided hitting each other. Sorry for the lack of excitement in this story. But, what was funny is that, though I was inwardly (and perhaps a little outwardly) freaking out, this little, old guy was completely stoic. No real change of facial expression at all. Someday I hope to be that brave. :)

But, I guess what I liked about going out to ride my bike is that it was such a great thing to do on a Sunday. I mean, I went to church and had a wonderful time hearing the sermon and singing, being around all those people who are just so sweet. And then I went out into nature (more or less) and got to take in the beauty of God's world, the beauty He created.

It makes me think of those verses from Psalms, maybe one of my favorite parts, though most all of them are my favorites.

When I consider your heavens,

       the work of your fingers,
       the moon and the stars,
       which you have set in place,

what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?

You made him a little lower than the heavenly beings

and crowned him with glory and honor.

I hope all of you had a wonderful and blessed Sunday. I love you all so very much!

Sara

Fears and Almost Tears

2009-08-31T00:32:00.003-05:00

Here are two things that you may or may not know about me. The first is that I love to sing. I'm even, well, good at it. The second is that I am terrified to sing in front of people. Seriously. And, really, what's the point of singing if not to share it with other people? I mean, it's pretty well worthless to be a good singer if you're not going to sing in front of people.

About a week ago I had a dream, and in that dream I was singing. When I woke up, I just kept thinking about how happy I was in that dream, how happy I was to be singing. There has just always been such a wonderful feeling when I sing. I used to drive around and sing for hours, and those were some of my favorite times.

So, I decided, post singing dream, that I should get back into singing. I looked on campus to see what my options were, and I found out that I could take voice lessons. Sounded great. I called the school of music, and was sent all the info about voice lessons.

One problem. Voice lessons require an audition. Audition. That basically means that there will be singing and that it will be in front of people. Like, live people. Not that singing in front of dead people would be that much more comforting, but, well, I'm getting totally off topic at this point.

Okay, so I resolved that I'd go for it. I settled on singing "Ave Maria" because I know it and because I do an alright job of singing it. I didn't really have a good way to rehearse much, but I figured I'd be okay. Auditions were Saturday, and I was pretty ready.

Truth be told, I wasn't ready at all. In fact, I almost didn't even go. But, then there I was, early for the audition. I was the first one there, and as I waited, as the time got closer, I nearly didn't go through with it. My inner monologue was pretty interesting (not quite sure how many prayers I said while sitting there waiting for the audition), and, had it not been for the fact that it would have been really awkward for me to just pick up and leave before even singing, I probably would have left. But I didn't. I sang. It was awful. I was there in front of a panel of judges. People. Singing in front of people. Nervous. Completely nervous. Far too nervous to be singing in a key that high. Too nervous to breathe. And, let me tell you, breathing is a really key component of singing. It is, in fact, crucial to producing sound.

So, I didn't sing well. I'm a perfectionist, so I'm willing to believe that it was less horrible than what I thought it was, but it was pretty bad. But, you know, I did it. I actually stood in front of people and sang. And, you know what? It felt pretty good to do something that so completely terrified me. It wasn't as good as I hoped for, but I was there singing, doing something that I love.

Oh, and for whatever reason, I actually made it past the audition. My first lesson is tomorrow.

Love you all!

Sara

Reading Addiction

2009-08-26T21:35:00.004-05:00

I get on reading kicks sometimes. I mean, I'm almost always working on a book, but sometimes I read all books by the same author or all books with the same focus.

Right now, I'm on an addiction kick.

I know that sounds completely depressing. I actually worried that it would be when I started reading the first book, a father's account of his son's drug addiction. Heartbreaking in so many ways. But, also fascinating in that way that stories of addiction give so much insight into how the brain works or how people are influenced, for good or for bad. Or how important it is for people to have close ties with others, how addictions can harm those ties and make people so different from what they once were.

I started reading a book the other night. It's written by a recovering addict. I also watched a short interview with the author who said that he wanted to write the book, in part, because he wanted to show young people that there are others who have the same dark, depressing feelings. He remarked that there were many authors he'd loved when he was younger, authors who expressed such dark feelings and let him know that he was not alone.

In some ways, I really understand that. Sometimes I think that we have to just cut to the chase and be honest about our failings and fears and the dark sadness in our hearts. Sometimes that's the only way we can find out we aren't alone and let others know that they aren't alone either.

But, there's another part of me that approaches those ideas with caution. I guess it's that part of me that says we have to be careful with the way we talk about those things. Are we looking at the darkness of the world around us, of our own tattered and broken psyches, and seeing that darkness as something we want to overcome? Are we seeing that though, yes, darkness does exist, that isn't where we want to stay? Or are we just allowing ourselves to go deeper into the muck and ugliness of life, saying that it's good to discuss such things because they are true?

I'm not a Pollyanna, though I sometimes do play the Glad Game. I know that harshness exists in life. I've dealt with it, and I know it's true. But I also know that beauty is true; love is true; joy is true. And I think that maybe those are the things to cling to, the things that will bring us out of darkness. And I think that may be why the Bible talks about meditating on things that are beautiful and true and pure. Perhaps God knew that, in our understanding of evil, we'd gravitate toward it as a way of understanding life; perhaps that's why He steered us toward what is better, what is holy, what is lovely.

A Grateful Sunday

2009-08-24T00:17:00.003-05:00

It's Sunday night, turning into Monday morning. I've had such a lovely Sunday. Restful, enjoying my new home, feeling quite grateful.

Sunday feels like a good day to be grateful. I think about the love of Christ, the grace of God. How blessed I've been. How so many people have come into my life and taught me so much, given so much, loved so much. And I thank God for each of them. I thank God for His ever-present love and care, for loving me, even in times when I've been unloveable. For making something beautiful of my life.

Well, it's Sunday night, turning into Monday morning, and I'd better get to sleep. I thank God for each of you.

I love each and every one of you,

Sara

A Very Serious Matter

2009-07-31T15:27:00.002-05:00

Hello, All!

It's been a bit since I last blogged, but there has been much going on. A trip back to El Salvador, fretting about my impending move (so much to think about!), finding an apartment (done!). There's a lot that I could write about, and I will. But right now, I have something very important on my mind.

Smoothies.

That's right. Smoothies. I stinking hate that word, but they're just too delicious to live without. And, the great thing is, they're pretty healthy. But, when I go get a smoothie, I know that I'm probably getting more sugar than I (or anyone else, really) need.

Yesterday, though, I made a smoothie of my own. Before we left for El Salvador, I'd thrown some bananas in the freezer, and I was kind of wondering what to do with those frozen bananas. So, I though, "Thaw them for banana pudding!" But then my common sense kicked in and reminded me that I am addicted to banana pudding and probably shouldn't be anywhere near one. So then I thought, "Smoothie!"

Half a frozen banana, half a cup of milk, some strawberries, and some ice cubes later, I was enjoying a delicious smoothie, and I knew exactly how much sugar went into it. None! I mean, none besides whatever is naturally in fruit and milk. This afternoon, I made another smoothie. for lunch/afternoon snack/what have you.

It was tasty. Here's how you make it:

1 frozen banana
1/2 a peach
1/2 cup milk
a little vanilla
a bit of cinnamon
tiny bit of honey. seriously. not too much. bananas are really sweet. this is just to take some edge off the vanilla and cinnamon.
some ice for that yummy, icy texture

Blend it up until the ice is all broken up. Then drink it and find true happiness!

Love,

Sara :)

Poppy Birthday to Me

2009-07-02T00:58:00.002-05:00

Well, yesterday was my birthday. I won't say how old I am. I'm still a little in denial. Only kidding. I'm 31. Not too bad, really.

Anyways, this year I decided to start a tradition. Poppy Birthday.

I know it sounds odd. Let me explain. I'm basing the tradition on my grandfather, Poppy. Every year on his birthday he would give us presents. I always liked that. So, I thought that starting this year I would attempt to bring some of that spirit to my own birthday, trying to bring some happiness to other people instead of just focusing on myself. And, as maybe a way of thanking God for this gift of life.

I liked it. And now I plan on making every birthday a Poppy Birthday.

Love love,

Sara (aka, George) ;)

Why I Love Weddings

2009-06-28T19:53:00.005-05:00

Today, I spent some time shopping and talking on the phone while doing so. I was talking to my friend Katy about the wedding I went to on Saturday, telling her about how beautiful it was. And it was.

While we were talking, we came down on opposite sides of the "love weddings/don't love weddings debate." I love them. But, I felt like I had to qualify that.

I'll explain. I don't love the stress of weddings or the fussiness of weddings or even a lot of the traditions of weddings. And I don't love all the pretense, the doing things just because that's what's done or because that's what looks good. I mean, I'm all for a reverent ceremony. Marriage is a sacrament, people.

And I guess that's what I love about weddings. I love that we get to witness something divine. I love the hopefulness of seeing two people about to start a life together. And knowing that, out of that decision to begin a life together, more lives can be touched by the love that those two people have. I guess I just feel like we are all infinitely richer for seeing that love, for having another example of love to follow.

During the ceremony, the minister, who is a friend of Jon and Sabrina's, reflected a bit on what he has learned in his own fourteen years of marriage. He said that he has begun to feel that marriage is one of God's favorite tools to use in making us become the people He wants us to be.

I'll admit, I can be a romantic. Much to my own embarrassment (and the chagrin of others), I love a good romantic comedy. I like to see the couple get together in the end. Those movies give me all sorts of warm fuzzies. But, even more amazing is to think of the kind of love that the minister spoke of during the ceremony. The kind of love that allows and even wants God to transform it through marriage, the kind of love that leans not on its own understanding but in all its ways acknowledges God.

Weddings let us see a bit of that love, and the marriage that emerges from that wedding lets us see how the selfless, redeeming love of Christ can take an institution that is as likely to fail as it is to succeed and yet transform it into something that shows love to all who are witness to it. And, as Jon's father said the night before the wedding, it is Christ in us who allows us to love. He sustains us and gives us love, even in those times when we cannot muster any feelings of love in ourselves.

So, I guess that's why I love weddings. They remind me of that kind of love. They give me hope, and they let me anticipate the good that will come from the love of that couple. And maybe, just maybe, I love weddings because I'm a bit of a romantic. After all, I want to see the couple get together in the end. But I also want to see what happens for them, for us all, after they get together.

Dearest readers, I love you. I love you all,

Sara

On the Road

2009-06-27T01:44:00.002-05:00

Well, I must say that today was a pretty lovely, if a bit hectic, day. I'm here in Champaign, getting ready for Sabrina's wedding. Yesterday and today involved working on flowers at her church, and I learned that there are few things nicer than arranging flowers at a church. There's just something so calming about it.

And, that calming effect was much appreciated, as I had an interview today. There's no really exciting story to it, but I did get the job. So that's pretty exciting. And it's also comforting. And I mean that not just in the sense that it's comforting to know that I'll have a source of income. But, it's comforting to feel like I made the right decision, that there's some tangible proof that I'm moving in the right direction.

I really have a peace about returning to grad school, and I thank God for it. Even though I am about to start studies that will be quite stressful at times, I thank God for this peace which passes all understanding.

Much love to all of you,

Sara

A Homecoming, Of Sorts

2009-06-24T01:12:00.002-05:00

Right now, I'm pretty sleepy, and I'm looking forward to getting to bed. Tomorrow will be a hurried morning, full of packing, remembering last-minute details, and forgetting something that seems really important at the moment but probably isn't in the whole scheme of things.

Tomorrow, I'm headed out of town once again. But this time, instead of heading to El Salvador, I'm going to the Midwest. Okay, so perhaps you're thinking that the better vacation would be to head to the tropical paradise that is El Salvador. Well, normally, I'd say you're right. Normally, I'd much rather see all my kids in ES than go to Illinois. But, this time, Illinois is special.

Well, perhaps it's not Illinois that special. But, my very good friend Sabrina is getting married to a super sweet guy named Jon. And that's pretty special. I'm not going to brag about the pivotal role I played in this approaching marriage. Okay, I will brag. Those two are perfect for each other, and I knew it from the get-go. Whatever the get-go is. Well, whatever or whenever it is, I knew it. So there. And I'm ridiculously happy to be going to this wedding and to be doing the flowers for it. (Little known fact, I love arranging flowers. It's one of my favorite things to do. I almost never do it, but today I made two flower arrangements.)

So, tomorrow, I get on a jet plane (or whatever flies out of my town) and head to Champaign, by way of Chicago and rental car. And, you know, I just realized that I've never rented a car by myself before. Weird, right? I've done every other sort of traveling alone (first solo plane trip at the age of six, plenty of trains, subways, taxis, buses, and the like), but I've never rented a car by myself. Well, I guess I've never sailed alone either, but there's not much call for that.

Anyways, I'm excited for the wedding. I'm excited to go back to Champaign, as I haven't been there in a little over a year. While it'll be only a short visit this time, I'm ready to see how the place has changed, what kind of difference the year has made. I know it has made a difference in me.

Much love to all of you,

Sara

A Re-cap

2009-06-22T22:48:00.003-05:00

Well, this past weekend was the Texas Reds Festival, and it was great. I meet Robert Earl Keen, and I learn that he wears Keens. Me too! :)

Later Saturday evening, I saw him play, and it was an amazing show. I stood out there in downtown, listening to Robert Earl Keen, and I just had to think that there was no better way to spend the evening. And, it made me happy that I got to see him play this festival shortly before I'll be moving back to Illinois. If there's anything that makes me miss home, it's Robert Earl Keen. Maybe I'll write more about that later, but for now I'll just say that it was wonderful.

Loves,

Sara

Part for the Whole, Whole for the Part, Part of a Whole

2009-06-20T00:46:00.000-05:00

For me, reading was always simple. When I was young, our class was split into reading groups, and I was always in the fastest readers group. One of my best friends was in the slowest group. I guess I didn't really understand that, didn't really get that reading could be hard for someone. Of course, when it came time for PE, it was a different story. When we'd run, I was always the slowest. For whatever reason, I just wasn't a good runner. And, over time, seeing how bad I was at running made me not want to run.

I'll cut to the chase right here. I'm not at all about to tell you a story about me becoming a great runner. It didn't happen. And, you know what? It probably never will. Oh, there are times when, even though I'm not great at it, I like to run. It's something that has given me some joy, a sense of accomplishment. But, I'm a realist. I'm not ever going to win a race, but I just might run it despite that fact.

Sometimes it's really easy to take gifts for granted. I was always a pretty capable student, and (to my good fortune) I was in a place where that meant something. I thought about that the other day as I was riding around San Salvador in a taxi (oh, the things taxis make me think about). How different my life might have been had success been based on my ability to run fast rather than my ability to do well on tests. But, I had to think that it didn't mean that my ability to do well in school meant that I was better than a person who could run fast but didn't do well on tests (not that these facilities have to be mutually exclusive). Sometimes you really need someone who can run fast or someone who can lift heavy things.

And, as I rode around in this taxi, taking in all the beauty that's between Soyapango and the San Salvador airport, I started thinking about the Body of Christ. Specifically, I was thinking of how Paul discusses the fact that we, as Christians, are the Body of Christ on earth. Just as our own bodies are made up of many different parts which function in many different ways, so is the Body of Christ. We can't all be hands or feet or hearts or heads. There must be many different parts because the world has many different needs that we must attend to, ways that we must minister to all who are in need.

So, Paul basically says that we shouldn't be jealous of the gifts that other members of the body have. We can't all have the same gifts or fulfill the same purposes. That would be redundant. It would make the Body of Christ a non-functioning whole because it would be many single and unrelated parts. How do hands function without arms? How do you hold your head up if there is no body?

But, sometimes I think it's easy to lose sight of what Paul is talking about. Sometimes I have trouble understanding why other people don't have the same strengths I have, and (more often) I find myself wishing I had strengths that other people have.

Here's an example. I believe in God. It's easy for me. Seriously.

Now, let me be honest. There have been times in my life when I felt like believing in God was perhaps the most insane thing I had ever done. But, for whatever reason, belief in God is not something that's difficult for me. I don't struggle with belief in the face of terrible circumstances. I understand that struggle, but it's not mine.

But, there are things I do struggle with. I see other people who seem to have such a sincere ability to relate to God, to seem so genuine and able to show their faith through their lives and to even openly discuss their faith. I'll level with you. I do envy those people. I wish I were one of those people. But I'm not. To me, those people always seem like they are so mature in their faith. That's not me. I don't speak openly about my faith. I actually don't speak openly about much of anything, but that's a blog for another day.

What I do take from Paul is this. I may never be one of those people I admire (or envy). I may never realize the fullness of those gifts, but that doesn't mean that I cannot be grateful that other people do have those gifts. And the fact that I do not have those gifts in abundance doesn't mean that I don't have them at all. Those may not be my strengths, but at least I can see how others use those strengths and learn from their examples.

It's all very humbling really. To know that I'm not and never can be the best Christian. And yet, it makes me a part of something bigger than myself, and that is something very beautiful.

I love each and every one of you,

Sara

What is Good?

2009-06-19T00:05:00.003-05:00

My birthday is coming up. It will be here in less than two weeks. And I just realized that it took me a ridiculous amount of time to type that last sentence, mainly due to the fact that I can't remember today's date.

Anyways, this birthday isn't so big. I mean, it's not a milestone or anything. Last year was both my 30th and my "golden" birthday. If you had no idea that there was such a thing as a golden birthday, don't fear. I didn't either. Until I had one. It's the year that your age is the same as the date of your birth. So, with that explanation, it's pretty easy to deduce that my birthday is June 30th.

I really like birthdays. I think they're fun and maybe even a bit magical. Really, I've moved to being pretty low key about my birthdays. I like to do something fun, but I don't like to do anything too fancy. Last year I went to a baseball game with friends. Before the game we ate at my favorite taco bar. And then I spent the next day at the farm. Seriously, that's my favorite kind of birthday.

I guess it's because my birthday is coming up that I've been thinking of my earlier years. I'm not going into details or anything (protecting the innocent and all that good stuff), but I have made a ton of bad choices in my life. Some of them were dumb choices, many naive choices, and some just plain rotten choices. There are sometimes when I feel quite lucky to be alive. And other times when I just feel glad to be as happy and content as I am.

I guess what surprises me the most is how good God has been to me. I'm not saying that my whole life has been 100% happy and without struggle. I could write a few stories (or perhaps entire books) about the unhappier moments of my life. Some of it my fault, some of it not. But, I don't see God's goodness in just the happy parts of my life. When I look back on my life thus far, I see God's goodness in the saddest of times, the scariest of times, the loneliest and most dangerous of times. I see how He brought me through those times, how He restored me and bound up my broken heart, how He didn't allow those times to overcome me in a way that I couldn't escape from. And that is goodness.

Beauty in the Broken

2009-05-28T00:30:00.004-05:00

I've just been doing some work this evening. When I work I listen to music. And I lose track of the words, or sometimes they all run together--the ideas, the words, the thoughts and sounds. Right now I have a good mix of Andrew Osenga and Jeremy Casella going. They each have ways of looking at the ugliness of life and finding some sort of beauty, some sort of hope for redemption. As I listen to the music, I keep remembering that Bible verse that says something about "My ways are not your ways." I usually think about that verse in conjunction with the verse that come next, that verse that explains that God's ways are higher than our ways.

I'm not sure I've ever read that correctly. And, I'm not sure that tonight I've stumbled upon the correct way of reading it, perhaps just a way I've never thought of before. But, as I was working and listening to these songs which speak so clearly of brokenness, I kept going back to the idea that His ways are not our ways. Or, at least they're not my ways. I'd hate to pass judgement on anyone else. I can only speak for myself, and this self is definitely lacking.

A few years ago, I went to the Chelsea Flower Show. At the show, they have all these demonstration gardens. Landscapers and gardeners have these elaborate presentations to show what they can do. It's amazing. My favorite garden was one that took bits of trash and worked them into the landscape design. Little candy wrappers made their way into benches or edging. I know it sounds strange, but it just worked.

You see, that's what I want to see. I want to see how those little bits of trash are worked into something beautiful. I want to see the finished product, to know that somehow all the little bits ugliness--the pain, the frustration, the hurt, the sadness--can be made into something beautiful. I want it for myself, but I also want it for the people I love. I want to see how the pains in their lives can become something that could give them comfort or how the sad experiences can be used to help someone else. I mean, how often do we see someone struggling under the weight of personal demons and have a feeling that that person may not make it? Don't we all kind of want to skip to the end of the story and see that everything turns out okay in the end? Don't we want to skip through the sad chapters, the hard chapters? Or do we just assume the worst, assume that there is no redemption, no recovery?

Sometimes I find it hard to find the beauty in the broken, the beauty in what seems so ugly and unfixable. His ways are not my ways. He sees to the end of the story, for better or worse. And, for better or worse, there is always love. He always loves.

And perhaps that love is where we can find some hope, some promise of redemption. Tomorrow I leave for El Salvador. I love being there. I love seeing my kids at the orphanage. But, in many ways, El Salvador is a place where the pains of life are evident right at the surface, not hidden away like we so often do here in a country where we can afford to hide our pain--put it in a big house, medicate it, put some nice shoes on it and act like everything is okay. But, in San Salvador, those pains are right there walking down the street, begging for change, hoping to find a place to sleep for the night.

But, it is also in San Salvador that I have seen to greatest hope. It is there that I know children--most of them abandoned, neglected, having suffered abuse and molestation--who possess such a deep faith. They have faith in God, and, somehow, they even have faith in other people. And maybe it's their faith in God that allows them to trust that people, deep down, really have some good in them. Or perhaps the children just know that the good they see in people comes from God.

Or, perhaps I'm getting a little tired by now and just need to go to bed. Because tomorrow I must pack. And tomorrow I get to see these children who give me so much hope, so much reason to believe that there can be beauty even in the ugliest pains of life.

I love you all,

Sara

Craziness of Summer

2009-05-26T00:44:00.002-05:00

Things are hectic. I mean, I'm sure they could be even more hectic, but they're pretty busy as it is. And, to tell the truth, I sort of love that.

I just got back from Chicago last night. It was a fun, short trip with my mom and aunt. It got me pretty excited to think that in just a short while I'll be moving back to Illinois and even more excited to think about the work I'll be doing there. I'm loving my plans for a dissertation, and I'm just so looking forward to being in a place where I can really concentrate on that work. Also, I'm pretty excited to be so close to Chicago again and to be close to St. Louis, which is now home to my friend Brooke and soon to be home to my friend Sabrina. I see some trips to St. Louis in my future, and I'm glad that I'll have places to stay while I'm there! :)

In just a couple of days, I head to El Salvador for two weeks--my first trip of two I'll take this summer. Construction has started on the new orphanage, so I'll be spending time at the worksite when they need me and playing with my kids when I'm not needed on construction. Really, it's so amazing to see this building finally become a reality. And it's unbelievably wonderful how many people want to help and are helping. God is so good.

In between my two El Salvador trips, I'll be heading back to dear old Champaign-Urbana for Sabrina's wedding. It's going to be beautiful, mainly because it will be so great to see her get married but also because the wedding is at the amazingly beautiful Allerton Park. Seriously, people, if you're in the neighborhood, you should definitely go to Allerton to do a little hiking or to have a picnic and walk around the gardens. The peonies alone are worth the drive. Then again, I love peonies, so maybe I'm biased.

So, that's my summer. I've actually left most of the hectic-ness out. But, don't worry. I'm not stressed about any of it. I'm invigorated! :)

Love,

Sara

I thought I'd share something beautiful...

2009-05-15T00:31:00.005-05:00

Inspired by this amazing picture that Erin, one of the girls who went to El Salvador this Spring Break, made and brought to dinner last night, I thought I'd make a gallery poster of it. The quality of the image isn't the greatest (I'm still sort of learning how to convert files), but isn't her picture beautiful? It just captures the whole experience of going to El Salvador.

The text below it is:

About the Picture This artwork was created by Erin Cleveland, a member of our 2009 Spring Break SHIP Trip team. In her own words “when I can't express my love in words, it usually ends up on a canvas.” This work shows the children of the San Salvador orphanage and the members of our team, all pieces of one fragmented heart, all members of one living, breathing body of Christ, all children of the same God, each one worthy of love regardless of country, ability, or circumstance, The Psalmist writes that God “heals the brokenhearted And binds up their wounds.” We’ve seen that happen. We’ve seen the smile on a child who was abandoned but has found a home. We’ve seen the light in his eyes when he realizes that he matters. We’ve seen the joy on her face when someone reads her a story. And we know God is good.

I'll be going back to El Salvador in just a couple of weeks, and this picture makes me miss my kids. It also makes me want to work even harder to build them a new home. If anyone is interested in getting involved or wants to learn more about what you can do to help these wonderful children, send me and email! You can also check us out on-line. The website is going through a few beautifications right now, but there's some good information about the work we do. And, if you happen to be in the Bryan, Texas, area during the weekend of June 20, we'll have a booth at the Texas Reds Festival. Come by and learn more about us!

Love,

Sara

A Few Things...

2009-05-12T00:35:00.003-05:00

I have nearly 200 posts on this here little blog. So, in honor of that ridiculous number of posts, I'm going to jump the gun and do a list. A list of things about me--silly things, odd things, perhaps even some unknown things.

I know. It's madness! It's self-centered and silly to do a list about oneself. Well, at least I'm owning that. ;)

So, here we go, peeps. A little list of things about me.

1. I am probably the least organized person you could ever meet. My idea of organization involves sort things and putting them into piles. Piles, people. Piles are not orderly. They are piles. But they are the closest thing to order I am usually capable of.

2. I have to sleep in a bed that's been made. I mean, even if I make it right before getting into it. Weird, right? And totally not in keeping with the disorderliness. At all! But, for whatever reason, sleeping in an unmade bed makes me nervous. I need order while I sleep.

3. I like math. I mean, I'm not actually all that interested in math, but I do like the occasional number crunching.

4. I love planning things. Seriously, planning trips, planning menus, whatever. I like finding hotel rooms and good deals on flights. I've been obsessed with finding deals on flights since I was young. I'd read the Sunday Houston Chronicle and call airlines about the flight deals I'd find in it. I always wanted to go to Europe, so I'd try to find cheap airfare.

5. I don't like board games. "Hate" might actually be a better word for it, but I'd really reserve the word "hate" for card games. I barely even like looking at cards. There are some exceptions. I like Apples to Apples, and I like Cribbage. I also like Trivial Pursuit. But, if I'm with a group of people, I'd so much rather talk than play games. See, I don't hate the player, I hate the game! :)

6. I love the smell of Cherry Blossoms. Love. The trees are so beautiful, and they're one thing that I truly miss about the Midwest. They have the most beautiful spring there...when it finally gets there!

7. I wasn't much of a reader when I was a kid. I just wasn't too interested in reading kid books. For some reason, I had this idea that you got to read the good books when you got older and that reading kid books would just be a real waste of time. So I didn't read.

8. When I started kindergarten, I went to a Christian school. We had chapel the first day, and the music leader started us in a round of "Kumbaya." I'd never heard that song before, and I seriously believed that my parents had dropped me off at a cult. I was terrified of "Kumbaya." The funny thing is that I shared that with a friend who went to the same school, and she admitted that she had been scared too. What a couple of weird kids we were!

9. I have always loved to sing, but when I was a little kid, I had pretty questionable taste in music. My two favorite songs to sing were "Just Call me Angel of the Morning" and "Jose Cuervo." Considering I went to a Baptist preschool, your guess is as good as mine as to where I might have picked up those songs!

10. Sometimes I have teaching nightmares. They're terrifying. Like, I forgot to teach one of my classes all semester, or I hadn't taught them some huge assignment, or I had a ton of grading to do before May 18th. Oh wait. That last one isn't a dream...

11. My favorite Psalm is Psalm 62. It's beautiful. Read it!

12. I don't like being barefoot, so I wear shoes all the time. I especially like Birkenstocks. I like them a lot. A whole lot. And, even though I know they're ugly, part of me thinks they're nice shoes.

13. I like cake better than cupcakes. I think cupcakes are cute, and I have an amazing (amazing!) recipe for chocolate cupcakes with peanut butter frosting. Oh, you know you want them now! But, I think a piece of cake is pretty hard to beat.

14. I'm turning into a workaholic. It's true. I also find it impossible to delegate (as if I have anyone to delegate anything to). But, I don't trust people to care about projects as much as I do. So, I like to work sometimes.

15. I love to bake. I have a fierce chocolate cake recipe, and it's super easy. I will make said cake upon request! :)

Okay, those are some things about me. I hope you weren't completely bored!

Loves!

Sara

All Things are New Again

2009-05-03T02:45:00.002-05:00

There is something that I not-so-secretly loathe. Something that I put off until the bitter end. Something that I dread more than anything, even though it will probably be part of my life for who only knows how long.

Grading.

There. I said it. I hate grading. Not even dislike. I officially hate it. I hate its guts, even though it doesn't technically have any.

I know that seems like a lot of hostility to unleash on an inanimate object. I mean, what has a pile of essays ever done to me? Nothing, really.

So, why do I hate it so much? Well, I guess a lot of the hatred has to do with the mix of feelings I have going into grading. Thee are so many questions in my mind. Did I teach them enough? Was I clear about this part? Why did this student clearly get the assignment while this other one clearly did not? How long would it take for PapaDel's to deliver to Texas? Okay, that last one might have nothing to do with grading, other than the fact that a stuffed pizza with pepperoni and sausage would sure take some of the edge off the awfulness that is grading.

The truth is, I'm a weird perfectionist of sorts. I hold myself to all sorts of standards, and (if I don't measure up) I really don't feel like I have a right to judge the writing of someone else. And then there's the whole part of me that cares about these students, that doesn't want them to have to worry about bad grades, that actually worries about how they are feeling and how stressed they are. I mean, I've been there. I feel for them. And maybe I hate grading because I want to protect my students from the bad grades and even protect them from themselves.

But, for some odd reason, I've found myself enjoying grading over the past couple of days. I've been slower about it, actually forcing myself to take things more slowly. And, I've found that the slower pace is allowing me to enjoy grading more. I think that my attitude about grading is beginning to change and that I'm finding a way of grading that's more in line with my style of teaching and my actual attitudes about education.

I'm enjoying my students' words. I'm enjoying seeing the ways in which they use them, the ways that they take their sources and make meaning out of them. The ways they create arguments, even when those arguments are not as solid as they should be. There's something really magical about seeing someone discover words, discover the ways that words can be used. I mean, really. Just imagine how exciting it is that they create these entire essays that never existed before. They've assembled a lot of ideas that may seem recycled, and yet, the format they've chosen actually creates something that hasn't been done before. It's kind of amazing, really. And I get to see it. That's pretty special.

I'm sure that tomorrow will find me a little frazzled, attempting to finish up the work of a semester that's almost gone. But, I think I've learned something. I hope I've taught something. And I hope that we all, my students and I, keep creating new things and learning from things, even if those things seem tired and old.

I love you all,

Sara

I'm Boring. But you knew that...

2009-04-24T00:33:00.003-05:00

This week has been an interesting one for me. I've learned a lot about myself. Mainly, I have learned that I am the most boring person ever.

You should probably quit reading right now. Save yourselves; avert your attention; surf away from this blog!

Anyways, I just love how there are those certain moments when things seem so clear, when you realize that there is something that defines you. I am defined by how boring I am. I can accept that.

This realization came courtesy of one of my students. I'm having them do a research/position/proposal paper wherein they find a problem or issue, research it, present an argument about it, and then propose something that they could actually do to solve it. I'm totally excited about this project. We watched the movie Invisible Children, which if you haven't seen you must. Like right now. It is amazing. And perhaps even life changing.

So, I was talking to my students about their topics, and one student (who is very bright and quite a competent writer) asked, "Can we write about something less serious?" She said that the topics we'd discussed had been really serious, and she just wondered if it would be possible to do something a little less intense. Of course I said that wouldn't be a problem. I'm flexible.

But, as I stood there waiting for them to finish a freewrite, I was totally perplexed. it seriously never occurred to me that someone would even want to write about something less serious. I mean, I seriously could not wrap my mind around that concept. I mean, I will be the first (or maybe more like third or fourth) to tell you that there is a lot of beauty in this world, that people are so much better than you will ever anticipate, that there is a lot of good. I really do see the bright side. I promise! :) But I also know that there are so many problems that need intervention, that there are so many people who could accomplish so much in their lives and in their communities, if only they had the resources to do so. I mean, to me, I see or know of the poverty and sadness and all the ugliness that is in the world, and it makes me sad. I wish these things weren't there, but I am amazed at the awesome responsibility to help at those times when we have the opportunity to.

I guess I just can't imagine not wanting to tackle these sorts of problems because that's why we're here. Isn't it? It's those serious issues that need our attention, and sometimes we have the means to actually do something.

So, I'm boring. I guess I'll have to learn to live with that. It's really just interesting to think of how differently we view things. And, it reminds me that (even though I can be very stubborn) we really do need each other. We need to see how other people view the world. Maybe I could learn to look for the lighter or happier aspects of life if I could see it through her eyes for a while. Or maybe I would see things I would never expect. I'm guessing I would. Maybe borrowing a new set of eyes is a good idea for every once in a while! ;)

Oh, and I also learned that I'm boring today while at an appointment. I've had a headache for about 2 weeks now, and the headachiness started spreading down my back. So, I made my very first appointment with a chiropractor. Let me tell you. It was fantastic. Who knew a spine could pop that loudly? Amazing! And the chiropractor was really nice. But, anyways, after the adjustment (snap crackle pop), they hooked me up to these electrical thingies. This is when I realized that I'm boring. I was there, getting help because I'm in pain, and all I thought about was all the things I need to do. Papers to grade, fundraising for the orphanage, newsletter for the non-profit, supplies for El Salvador, the kids, physical therapy methods for our kids with MD. And did I mention that I work two jobs? Why oh why was I not just relaxing and enjoying the attention to my poor, achy muscles? Because I'm a boring almost-grownup. Seriously, Boring. When did this happen to me?

Oh, well. Turns out that I like working constantly. Weird. Turns out that I may become a type-A personality. Turns out that I might end up becoming assertive? Oh, yes, friends. These things are happening. Someone even called me "intense" the other day. Really? Me? Intense? Oh, say it ain't so!

Loves! Loves! Loves!

Sara

PS: Please forgive me for this self-indulgent post. I love you, people! God bless!

Reading the Gospels. See, I really do read the Bible! ;)

2009-04-21T00:07:00.003-05:00

The other day, I decided to start reading the Gospels. For some reason, I almost never read them. I usually find myself reading from the Old Testament, especially Psalms, or from Paul's epistles. I go to a Baptist church, so I suppose I need to keep up with Paul. And, though I'm not sure why, I just really love the Old Testament.

But, personal preferences aside and all, I thought I should really study the Gospels, get to know them better. Perhaps I decided that studying the Gospels would be good because I'm, well, Christian, and as such, it would probably be good for me to know more about, well, Christ. You see, I haven't spent years in school for absolutely nothing. I'm smart enough to eventually understand that Christians should know about Christ and that in order to do so they should probably read the Gospels. And did you know that the Gospels are the Good News? I'm just full of all sorts of information that any five year old in a decent Sunday School class should be able to tell you!

Well, anyways, as soon as I had this epiphany, I decided to get right to reading the Gospels. I'm starting with Matthew because it comes first. Usually I scorn convention, but I'm going to bring a little order to this endeavor. So, as I was reading, I got to the part about the baptism of Jesus. That's my favorite part. (Truth be told, I might have read this before.)

So, I was in my favorite part, and, just to be fair, I'll add the verses here:

13 Jesus came from Galilee to the Jordan River. He wanted to be baptized by John. 14 But John tried to stop him. He told Jesus, "I need to be baptized by you. So why do you come to me?"
15 Jesus replied, "Let it be this way for now. It is right for us to do this. It carries out God's holy plan." Then John agreed.

16 As soon as Jesus was baptized, he came up out of the water. At that moment heaven was opened. Jesus saw the Spirit of God coming down on him like a dove.

17 A voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, and I love him. I am very pleased with him."

I'm not sure why, but I find those verses one of the most amazing parts of the Bible. I say that about every part, but this time it's true. :)

Usually, when I've read these verses before, I've focused on the Spirit, on the dove. But, for some reason, as I read these verses the other night, I was thinking about John the Baptist. And I kept thinking about verses 14 and 15. I kept thinking of how unworthy John must have felt. But that he had to baptize Jesus, as that was part of "God's holy plan."

And I guess I couldn't help but think of how unable or unworthy we all feel at times, especially in doing those things we feel called to do. And, perhaps it's not just a feeling of unworthiness but a knowing that we are so far from righteous, a not understanding how someone like you or me could be a part of a holy plan. But I think we are.

Love,

Sara

Also, if you think about it, pray for my kids in El Salvador for our fundraising efforts. I'll be going there twice this summer, so I could use some prayers too. :)

I need to sleep!

2009-04-17T01:27:00.002-05:00

Oh, Heavens!

It's nearly 1:30 in the morning, and I'm about to get to sleep. Now, it's not like this is exactly late. I have to say that because otherwise I feel like an old person. Though, truth be told, I am becoming an old person. :)

Anyways, 1:30 is late when the reason you are awake isn't because you were out having a fun time. It's late when the reason you are up is work. And, if you enjoyed the work you were doing, you are officially an old person. Because old people like to work. They're industrious, even.

But, me? I am not so industrious. I am the opposite of industrious. I am a person who wants to hide under my comfy, warm covers for just five more minutes, which will surely turn into two more hours. However...

I'm really liking my work lately. In fact, I might even be loving it. I want to research for it, make handouts for it, create interesting lesson plans for it. People, I made a PowerPoint. A PowerPoint. That is what I am doing up so late. I made a beautiful PowerPoint for my class tomorrow, and I'm so excited to show it to them. It's beautiful. It has pictures and inspiring quotes. I mean, inspiring quotes, people. I hate inspiring quotes. I mean, I super duper can't stand them. They just always seem so, I don't know, annoying and trite? But, I found some inspiring quotes, and I loved them. So I put them on my PowerPoint. I even thought about incorporating music, but I couldn't figure out what to play. Besides, that might be kind of, I don't know, stupid?

Anyways, my class is gearing up for their final essay of the semester, so I decided to make some adjustments to it. And that's what has me so excited about it. I've even started thinking of ways to create a class that's similar to what I'm doing with this final essay. It's kind of a Composition meets Service Learning kind of thing, and I'm just really excited to see what the students do with it.

Okay, now I'll really get to sleep.

Love you!

Sara

Rebirth

2009-04-12T22:55:00.005-05:00

Today is Easter, and I have to be honest. I don't mean that I have to be honest because it's Easter, though it does seem especially difficult to be dishonest on a day like Easter, a day when we are all so focused on that which is honest, on that which is Truth.

But, that's just it, really. I haven't been too focused. Specifically, I haven't been too focused on prayer, on reading my Bible, on much of anything that I feel like I should be focused on. As the days and weeks led up to Easter, I wasn't really looking forward to it. I wasn't really anxious with anticipation. I wasn't really much of anything.

Except that I was a bit of everything. I was sick. I was busy. I was working my two jobs. I was grading a giant stack of papers. I was battling a mountain of laundry. And if I'm going to be very, very honest, I was losing the battle with the laundry. In fact, I died on that mountain. I'll be wearing a cocktail dress to teach in tomorrow, because that's all that's clean.

And in all that busyness, I wasn't thinking too much about anything, well, spiritual.

But, Easter is a time of rebirth. Or, more specifically, it is a time of coming back from the dead. It is a time of remembering that Jesus, my God and my friend, overcame death.

And then He returned to us.

This year, for some reason, it occurred to me that the Easter story is truly strange. It's that last part that's strange. He returned to us. It's always seemed so normal before. Of course He returned. That's the way the story goes, every time, every year. Jesus returns.

But, as I was fighting the battle on laundry mountain, I started wondering why. It makes absolutely no sense that He would return. I mean, I'm sure that theologically it makes sense, fulfillment of prophecy and all of that, but it doesn't make rational sense that He would return to a world that killed Him. However, that He did return, despite the cruelty with which we treated Him and the callousness and hardness of heart which caused us to doubt Him, just speaks so clearly of the Truth that is the unchanging love of God. That "while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." And, not only died for us, but returned to us. Returned to us because, despite the ugliness of our sin, He loves us. Because, in all times and all places--even now--God calls us to Himself.

So, I was thinking about Easter this evening, and I decided to read my Bible. It seemed like a good enough start. I turned to Philippians, which I so often do. Each time it's like meeting an old friend. Each time I read Philippians, I feel how much I've missed the encouragement that reading it brings. I've marked it up so much, but each time I read it, I find something that didn't stand out to me before, something that maybe I was meant to appreciate at a later time. Tonight was like that as well.

As Easter is a time of rebirth, I felt like it might also be a time that needs a prayer all its own. So, here is my prayer for this next year:

"I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead."

Much love to each of you on this Blessed Easter,

Sara

Ugh-ness and Baseball Updates!

2009-04-07T23:20:00.003-05:00

Today I spent all day in bed. Now, before you start thinking that I had some sort of wonderful, lazy Wednesday or that I lounged around while people brought me food or that all I did was watch movies...

Well, there was laziness, but it was mainly the kind of laziness that accompanies being sick and feeling ugh. And I have been feeling ugh. So ugh, in fact, that I didn't go to job number two today. I figured my co-workers and the sweet students I tutor would appreciate not getting whatever I have. Because whatever I have is not fun.

On a somewhat related note, for whatever reason, my students have been getting the most bizarre illnesses. Like, things that I didn't even know you could get. One had Scarlet Fever, and another just emailed to say he has Shingles. I mean, seriously? Where have they been that they've gotten these illnesses? And, more importantly, why do my students come to class when they're sick?

On a happier note, I went to the Cubs game on Tuesday, and it was wonderful. Cubs win. Fantastic. I wore my lucky hat and confirmed that the hat is lucky. Last night they won; tonight they didn't win. Last night I wore the hat; tonight I did not wear the hat. You may say, "Coincidence," but I know better than that. :)

Okay, I'm about to go to bed because I am sick and ugh. In fact, I am in bed as I type. So, perhaps I should say, I'm going to sleep now because I am sick and ugh. But, I've never been one to stress the details...

Loves!

Sara

Some New Loves and a Plan

2009-04-05T22:59:00.003-05:00

The Loves

As of late I have some new Internet loves. I'm not talking people, here. I'm talking Internet sites. Recently, I found a couple of sites that I think are pretty dadgum fantastic, so I thought I'd share them with my readers. Um, so I thought I'd share them with Greta, my reader. :)

So, here we go!

Okay, first of all, I love a good piece of introspective writing. I love it even more if the writer is contemplating life and death and all of those sorts of mysteries. I guess I just like to see how people confront those things that we all must, how they wrap their minds around all that is so difficult to understand. The other day I found Cases. It's a section of the New York TImes online, and it is absolutely amazing. I guess I should say that not all of the articles deal with life and death, but they are all related to the goings-on in the medical profession, and, as such, they all revolve around the more major decisions that people are faced with. Some of those are, in fact, issues of life and death. In any case, I could get sucked into reading quite a few of these at one sitting, and I just might have. :)

Second up. This one's a little weird. But, that's part of it's charm. Also part of it's charm? The fact that it's a blog. About food. A blog about food. What could be better? So what Am I talking about? Eat Like Me. It's a blog written by a dietician, and she talks about what she eats throughout the day. She also takes pictures of her meals. Weird, right? Perhaps I should have prefaced this by saying that I'm on a bit of a health food kick lately. But, I really like this blog because it shows what eating healthy can look like for a real live person who lives a busy life. It's doable and even yummy looking. Trust me, the blog is pretty fun, and it can give you all sorts of good ideas for satisfying snacks and energy-upping meals.

Okay, not all of my new loves are confined to this here series of tubes. Some are in real life. Not too long ago, a new store opened up in town, and it is definitely one of my new loves. Village Foods is just about my favorite thing to come along in quite some time. It's kind of like a Whole Foods, but it's just a new local store. Small and friendly, Village Foods makes me want to shop for groceries and is quickly becoming the only store I'll go to. The benefit of this is that I'm eating healthier than I probably ever have, and I am truly loving it. Have I given up diet sodas? Not a chance, but I am making an effort to go organic and to support a local business. Oh, and Katy's little guy absolutely loves Village Foods!

The Plan

My plan for tomorrow? Baseball! Tomorrow, I'll be heading to Houston for the season opener at Minute Maid Park. I am really excited about it, though today I started to get a little cold which threatened to derail my excitement. Never fear, people. My excitement lives, and tomorrow I plan to be at Minute Maid, watching the Cubs beat the Astros!

Okay, that's a look at what's going on right now!

I love you all!

Sara

Catching Up!

2009-03-31T12:34:00.003-05:00

Things have been really hectic and hurried since my return from Spring Break, but I do hate to let the old blog go unwritten upon. So, I thought I'd give a little list of some things that have been going on in my life. Here we go, peeps!

1. Since our trip, there has been overwhelming interest in the work that's going on in El Salvador. This is amazing to see. Most amazing (and exciting and thrilling and whatever else) is that some of the people who just got back from El Salvador want to go back this summer. To stay. To work. To get land cleared. This will be such a blessing for the building that needs to go on there. I am so anxious (in a really good way) to see how the summer plans work out and to see how much work can get done over the summer. And, it looks like I'll be heading to El Salvador a couple of times this summer. Awesome!

2. I had a bit of a breakthrough on the old dissertation front. I mean, "breakthrough" is kind of funny word to use. Perhaps, it's more appropriate to say, "Hey, I had a cool idea about what to write on. I'm really excited about it, and I think it's going to turn out well." I've found some previous research on my topic, but it doesn't look like it's a topic that's been overdone. Not sure yet how to frame it, but that will come. Oh, did I forget to mention what the topic is? :) All in good time!

3. There are two new little boys at the orphanage. They're brothers. Oh, folks, let me tell you. These two are the most amazingly sweet boys you could ever meet. And they are just beautiful. That's really the only way to describe them. Everything about them is beautiful. I was so happy to meet them. And the little brother sat on my lap for the whole bus ride to Cerro Verde. Oh, we had a field trip for the kids this trip. I will write more about this later, but I'll just say that it was great and that the kids loved it.

4. Teaching and tutoring are both going really well, though I am overwhelmed with work at the moment. At least I've learned that I somewhat like being busy!

5. Last night I went to dinner at Katy And Joe's. When I left, John insisted on going out to check my car out. He told me that I had a flat tire, so he fixed it for me. He even kicked the tires to make sure they were okay. It was super cute!

Love you!

Sara

I'm Back!

2009-03-23T22:03:00.002-05:00

Well, I am officially back from El Salvador. The trip was really wonderful. I got to meet the new kids at the orphanage, eat pupusas, hike Cerro Verde, and just generally have a great time with our group and our friends in El Salvador. I survived a historical election and a bedbug infestation. Time will tell how the election will affect the country and if I will ever stop itching. ;)

One bonus of the trip was that I got to take a bump on my flight into El Salvador, which means that I'm over half way to paying for my next flight there! Or paying for the other traveling I'll be doing this summer...Oh, and that also meant that I flew first class on the way there. It was a struggle, but I made it work!

Okay, there are more stories to tell, but I'm still a little (or a lot) tired, so I'm heading off to bed!

Love!

Sara

Spring Break!

2009-03-12T11:28:00.002-05:00

Oh, how I love Spring Break. I think it might be my favorite time of year. Well, honestly, it might just be my favorite time of year because I really want a break, and (starting tomorrow) I get one!

Early tomorrow morning, I head off to El Salvador. Beautiful, mountainous, tropical El Salvador. Home of pupusas, volcanoes, and some of the sweetest children you will ever meet. If my tone doesn't imply it clearly enough, I am all kinds of excited about going to El Salvador.

And, while I'm totally excited about going, I do know that this is a bit of a dangerous time to be heading there. The national election takes place on Sunday, March 15, and this is a big election year. And, in a big election year, you never quite know what the outcome of the election will mean for safety. Anyways, feel free to pray for me while I'm there! And pray for the kids too; they are amazing.

Much love,

Sara

Maybe I don't want to grow up. Maybe that's okay.

2009-03-08T00:52:00.002-06:00

"When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But, when I became a man, I put away the things of a child" (1 Corinthians 13:11).

Honestly, I've never given much thought to this verse. It's always just seemed like part of the extra stuff that follows the really good verses about love. Those love verses are good stuff, even if we're all tired out from having heard them at every wedding we've ever been to. But I, with my all too finite knowledge of theology, have generally read the eleventh verse of this chapter as saying "Grow up, already!" I'm not much of a theologian.

There's got to be a more serious meaning, something far more profound and deep. I'm sure of it, even if I don't know it. That's faith, folks. ;)

Anyways, I was thinking of this verse just a bit ago, mainly because it got me thinking about the kind of faith and spirituality that children have. They have such a pure, unquestioning faith, and it's beautiful to see. It made me think that, though in many ways we do have to grow up and do have to put away the things of a child, perhaps the faith of a child is something we should fight our hardest to keep. Sometimes it feels as if we spend so much of our adult lives trying to recapture the depth of faith we had when we were small, as if it is that fullness of faith that we always long for. Maybe that is the one thing we should never put away, no matter how old we get.

Love,

Sara

[Side note: Seriously, folks, there's a lot of good stuff in the Bible, a lot of great stuff even. And there is tons of stuff about love. After all, God is love. So, if you're planning a wedding, be original. Don't go with Corinthians. Try Esther or Ruth. Scandalize the whole church and go with Song of Songs. :) Just, please no more 1 Corinthians 13. Props to Katy and Joe for choosing Hosea. And to Nicole and Anton, whose readings I can't remember, even if I remember so clearly thinking, "That is one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard."]

Making Sense of Love

2009-03-01T22:45:00.003-06:00

Sometimes I get emails from David, the orphanage director's son in El Salvador. David is 18, studying to be a lawyer. He's lived most of his life with the many children his father would find on the streets of El Salvador, children abandoned and with no other place to go. Children who find love with this family.

David always tells me that he is praying for me and my family, for my church. Each year we take presents to the kids in El Salvador. The other day, David asked me, "Do you know who sent my present? And who is helping to pay for my university? I just need to know for my prayers."

And, let me be honest. It doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense to me, the kind of faith that David has, the kind of desire he has to pray for others.

Often I think of the children in El Salvador. Their faces come to me like snapshots. I see Saul before he goes to bed, wanting to hear a story. I see Vanessa washing clothes. I see Javier being silly because he's young and loves attention.

And sometimes the thought that comes to my head is, "So which one would you choose?"

And maybe now it seems like the thought going through my head is a good one. And maybe now it seems like I'm wondering which child I'd bring home if I could.

But that's not it.

Let me speak plainly.
Let me be practical.
Let me be sensible.

Abortion is illegal in El Salvador. And, let me also be honest; the legality or illegality of abortion is to me, even now, pretty much a non-issue. Though I believe strongly in legislation that protects and affirms the sanctity of life, I understand that illegality doesn't mean that abortions won't happen; in any work I do that is pro-life, my only real concern is that women and men know that they are loved, that they have other options, that they won't be judged, that they have a community that will care for them. Those things don't change, whether abortion is legal or illegal.

That said, abortion is illegal in El Salvador. El Salvador is the poorest country in Central America, and the number of children who are homeless, without parents, and abandoned is staggering. In Soyapango, children roam the streets at night--some in gangs, some on drugs, some prostituting.

A few years ago, it occurred to me that there was something lacking in the logic of pro-lifers who seemed unable to see a connection between the unavailability of abortion and the fact that there were so many unwanted and neglected children. Surely, they must understand that, were abortion legal and readily available, there might be some decrease in the number of homeless children, that there might be some movement toward every child being a wanted child.

But, this connection wasn't being made. And it didn't make sense.

If I was to be practical, I had to admit that there was something amiss in the logic of pro-lifers who didn't make that connection. Again, I'm just speaking plainly. I'm just being practical. I'm just being sensible. I, even a few years ago, would have admitted that I thought abortion wasn't a good thing. It's certainly not something that we want to happen. But, as I thought of this connection a few years ago, I had to think that sometimes good can come of even those things we think of as bad. Maybe there is such a thing as a necessary evil.

Fast forward a couple of years.

I'm making cookies and bread with David. Javier comes by to look sweetly at us and hope we'll be nice enough to give him a cookie. Vanessa is still washing the clothes and hanging some up to dry. Saul is asking for a story.

And, the thought goes around in my head again. So, just choose one. If quality of life is an issue, if poverty or ill health prevent that quality of life from being what it could be under better circumstances, if the option is no longer illegal but readily available. Then just choose one.

But, I can't. I can't because I know them. I can't because I love them. I can't because I now understand that our collective poverty is so much more if just one of those children is not here. I can't because, though it sometimes seems that there is so little love in the world, I know that, because of these children, there is so much more love than there would be without them. I can't because I have some hope that their love, so pure and unselfish, is the only kind of love that saves us. I can't because, in each of their faces, I see Christ.

And, it doesn't make sense. But it is love.

Continuation of a Theme

2009-02-22T23:25:00.003-06:00

Sometimes, I find something so beautiful that I have nothing to say about it. So, all that is really important is that, the other day, I was thinking about what motivates people to help one another. Specifically, I was thinking about this responsibility to love as Christ loves. Anyways, I came across this poem, and it's beautiful. And I don't have much more to say.

I hope you love it.

Love,

Sara

"Christ Has No Body" by Teresa of Avila (1515–1582)

Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

More Thoughts on Love

2009-02-17T22:55:00.003-06:00

If I am honest, I have to admit that I sometimes have a hard time sticking to religious practices. I can be lax about reading my Bible. I probably don't pray as much as I should. I spent most of my life to this point as a non-practicing Christian, so I never really developed those good habits when I was younger. But, really, most of my lack of following religious practices is owing to an inherent laziness. I mean, so long as I'm being honest, I might as well admit to my laziness.

But, oddly enough and despite my laziness, I think about God throughout much of my day. I remember reading somewhere that a relationship with God is something like a young man who is in love for the first time. Though he can't spend every moment with the object of his affection, when he finds a spare moment, his thoughts turn to her. I sort of loved that. I sort of thought it was beautiful.

Lately, in those moments, I've found myself thinking about the enormous love of God. I think of the selflessness of Christ, the unworthiness of us all to receive such love. And yet, well, and yet we do receive that love.

But, what amazes me most is that, in receiving that love of Christ, we are entrusted with the responsibility of showing that love to others. Maybe "responsibility" isn't the right word. "Responsibility" always sounds so forced. I'm responsible for doing all of those mundane tasks that I really don't want to do, like filling out forms for work or jumping through bureaucratic hoops.

It's not that sort of responsibility. To love is an opportunity. We have the opportunity to show Christ's love in a world where love is often hard to come by. Sometimes, I think of the verses from Matthew:

"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'[...]'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'"

It reminds me of Mother Teresa, speaking of the people she worked with in India. She said that, "Each one of them is Jesus in disguise." And, she once said, "I see God in every human being. When I wash the leper's wounds, I feel I am nursing the Lord Himself. Is it not a beautiful experience?" It's as if, in so many ways throughout our lives, we are given these beautiful opportunities to care for others as we would care for Christ and, in turn, to be the face of Christ to those who so desperately need love. And, if we're really honest, we have to admit that each of us--no matter how smart or rich or beautiful--needs love, longs for it, would do almost anything to have it.

I guess it makes sense that my thoughts of late have revolved around God's love, as I'm realizing that there is no end to it. As I've been writing this, so many things come to my mind, so many ways that I am awed by the enormity of God's infinite love. So many ways that I am grateful that God has given me such a gift as this chance to show love to others. I could say much more, and I probably will on another day. But, right now I will probably go to bed. I may even say a prayer before I fall asleep. A prayer of thanks that God is good, that His love endures forever. Amen.

I love you all so much,

Sara

A Valentine for You

2009-02-15T21:05:00.003-06:00

Valentine's Day is over. It always seems a little sad when those heart-shaped boxes of chocolates are moved to a big pile, shoved off to make room for the next holiday, reduced for quick sale. I know it's not popular to like Valentine's Day. It's commercial. It's fake. It's just plain silly.

But, I do love Valentine's Day. I love seeing people happy. I love that people take a day to be kind to each other. I love that people give each other flowers and that even little kids scrawl their names on little cards for each other. I love that there is one day when we hear the word "love" most everywhere we go.

My mom used to say that I was like my dad. Not given to too much emotion. Not one to cry too much, if at all. And, that's a pretty fair assessment. I don't like to cry. I don't like people to see me cry. I don't like people to ask me how I'm feeling. And when they do, I usually lie. There's a certain expression that I feel my face make whenever I'm about to cry. It's a serious, almost angry face.

I felt that earlier this evening when went to work out. Oddly enough, I'd been thinking about Valentine's Day, about why I like it so much. And I realized that I love Valentine's Day because, as a ridiculous idealist, it's how I want to see people treat each other. I love Valentine's Day because there's something so beautiful about its spirit, even if it's a bit tinged by commercialism.

And, I love it because, though I am an idealist, I've dealt with and seen a lot of very realistic heartache in my life, and there's something about Valentine's Day that gives me hope that we can love each other. Because when I think about some of the things I've seen and lived through, there is so much that I don't know how to fix.

I see her, struggling with the abuse brought on by a relative, the sister who took the bulk of the abuse. Sometimes during dinner she just stares off, and I know that she is somewhere very painful. I see him, killing himself with drugs, self-medicating and trying to overcome the demons in his heart and mind. Trying to find some sort of escape. Never sleeping and never eating. And I see the many students I've taught, young people who deal with unimaginable pain, but hide it so well under such bright, beautiful smiles.

I see all of that. And I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to make any of it better. I don't know how to fix all of the hurts that I see, and I know that there are countless more hurts that I don't see.

So, all of this was going around in my head as I tried to make it through my usual workout. I felt the serious, angry face coming on. I felt something. Was that sweat? Was it a tear? Was it both?

There are times when even those of us who aren't prone to crying end up completely losing it. Perhaps it's my own fault. There was a time when I prayed that I would love others as Christ does, and it seems that those prayers have caught up with me. Love like that can hurt. And, even though there are so many hurts that I can't fix, I will keep trying. Keep loving. Keep making an effort to give love when I can.

Happy belated Valentine's Day, everyone. I love you all.

Oh, and as a Valentine, please enjoy this video. I loved it.

About Work and a Poem

2009-02-05T10:42:00.004-06:00

Right now, Job #2 is pretty slow. Because it's the beginning of the semester, we really don't have too many students coming into the Writing Center, and, when we do, it's usually to ask really quick questions or do short sessions to look over their application essays. Those are a lot of fun because I get to learn about the students and just have a nice time of talking to them about what they want to major in, what they want to do with their lives, all those complicated but exciting conversations.

However, there is a lot of downtime right now, so we use that time to catch up on reading for our training sessions and to familiarize ourselves with the kinds of essays the students will be working on this semester. We're going to be seeing a lot of literature papers pretty soon, so we've been looking through the literature anthology to get acquainted with what the students might be reading.

I'm not going to lie. We often end up just reading poems aloud to one another or thinking about staging some of the plays and then deciding not to. Sometimes we read poems and then argue about them. But, the other day, I read this poem, and we were all just so moved by it. I didn't cry when I read it, but I wanted to. Anyways, I thought I'd share it.

Gwendolyn Brooks

"The Mother"

Abortions will not let you forget.
You remember the children you got that you did not get,
The damp small pulps with a little or with no hair,
The singers and workers that never handled the air.
You will never neglect or beat
Them, or silence or buy with a sweet.
You will never wind up the sucking-thumb
Or scuttle off ghosts that come.
You will never leave them, controlling your luscious sigh,
Return for a snack of them, with gobbling mother-eye.

I have heard in the voices of the wind the voices of my dim killed
children.
I have contracted. I have eased
My dim dears at the breasts they could never suck.
I have said, Sweets, if I sinned, if I seized
Your luck
And your lives from your unfinished reach,
If I stole your births and your names,
Your straight baby tears and your games,
Your stilted or lovely loves, your tumults, your marriages, aches,
and your deaths,
If I poisoned the beginnings of your breaths,
Believe that even in my deliberateness I was not deliberate.
Though why should I whine,
Whine that the crime was other than mine?--
Since anyhow you are dead.
Or rather, or instead,
You were never made.
But that too, I am afraid,
Is faulty: oh, what shall I say, how is the truth to be said?
You were born, you had body, you died.
It is just that you never giggled or planned or cried.

Believe me, I loved you all.
Believe me, I knew you, though faintly, and I loved, I loved you
All.

The Greta

2009-01-29T21:10:00.003-06:00

I am exhausted. I'm looking forward to finishing up my work and settling into my nice, cozy bed.

Today was a rough day.

It all started yesterday. Well, it really all started last night. For some reason, Greta started coughing last night. It wasn't just a little cough; it was a really deep cough. She would sleep and then wake up and cough. I hoped she'd be better by this morning, but she wasn't. The cough was still there, so we went to the doctor.

Well, the doctor (who was just incredibly sweet) took a look at Greta and couldn't really find anything the matter. But, she wanted to do X-rays to get a better idea of what was going on in little Greta. And then she said it. A cough like Greta has can be a sign of some really bad stuff.

Pneumonia, heart problems, Cancer.

Yeah, that last one really shook me up. I had to leave Greta there for the X-rays, and then I had to go to work. As I drove out of the parking lot, I just started crying. When I got to work (all cleaned up and not looking teary-eyed), I told my co-workers that Greta had to go to the doctor. One said that her dog had a similar cough and that it turned out to be Cancer.

Ugh. Tired, sad, grumpy, and still 5 hours of work to go!

Fortunately, this story has a happy ending. Greta is fine. She sleeping right next to me as I type this. She's a sweetie. And I'm so grateful that she's healthy. Now I need a good night's sleep! :)

Simple Sandwich

2009-01-24T16:36:00.002-06:00

Anyone who knows me well knows that I love a good chicken sandwich. In fact, my love of the chicken sandwich is probably the most boring thing about me because I will order one whenever I'm at a restaurant that has a good one. Like clockwork. Like dull, boring, predictable clockwork. It's been a favorite of mine since I was a kid and my family would go to dinner at Oxford Street. A friend of the family used to tease me about getting a chicken sandwich at a steakhouse, but, to me, the chicken sandwich was that tastiest thing I'd ever encountered. Well, that and the 500 Shirley Temples I'd order at dinner.

For me, a restaurant chicken sandwich should have the following:

Warm, not overly seasoned chicken breast
Melted cheese (preferably a white cheese)
Bacon
Lettuce
Occasionally Onions
And (the clincher) Mayonnaise

Put all of that on a tasty bun, and you have the perfect chicken sandwich. And if there are fries on the side, oh heavens! I just pepper my ketchup until it's almost completely black and then enjoy. Oh, how I love pepper and ketchup. If you've never had that combination, you're missing out. It's the only way to eat ketchup.

The problem with my favorite sandwich is that it's totally unhealthy. That, and I'd rather not spend a ton of money on eating at restaurants. Oh, and there is no more Oxford Street. Sadness.

So, I started making a yummy, simple sandwich the other day, and I love it. Here goes:

Toasted bread (I like it healthy, so whole grain)
Sliced chicken breast
A bit of Swiss cheese
And (Oh, heavens, this is the best part!) Smashed Avocado (I told you! Amazing!)

So, I started making that the other day, and I love it. It's simple and good. Today I opted to heat up the chicken and cheese so that it was all hot and melty. Yum!

I probably have no future as a cook, but this is a step in the right direction! ;)

Journeys

2009-01-18T23:06:00.003-06:00

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about spiritual journeys. I guess I'm always amazed at the paths that people take (or find themselves on) in their quests to find and know God.

But, I find myself even more amazed at the ways in which God meets people on their paths, the ways in which He provides for each of us who seek Him.

It's feels as if, along the path, God has always been there. And, when I look back on my path so far, I think of God saying to me,

"That feeling of emptiness, that sense of longing, that bit of sadness and ever-present wonder if there is something bigger than all of this? The feeling that you didn't even know what you were looking for? You were looking for Me."

And, then I just smile, grateful for a God who loves me enough to be that constant presence, calling me to Him.

Sunday Psalm

2009-01-04T22:51:00.002-06:00

I have trouble picking favorites. If you listen to the radio with me, you'll hear me say, "Oh, that's my favorite song" more than once. They're not all my favorites, but it certainly seems that way sometimes.

I'm just as bad at naming a favorite Psalm. They're all beautiful. But, I always find myself going back to Psalm 62. It's one that you can just take in, enjoying the words and loving the hope they speak of. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Love,

Sara

Psalm 62

1 My soul finds rest in God alone;
my salvation comes from him.

2 He alone is my rock and my salvation;
he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.

3 How long will you assault a man?
Would all of you throw him down—
this leaning wall, this tottering fence?

4 They fully intend to topple him
from his lofty place;
they take delight in lies.
With their mouths they bless,
but in their hearts they curse.
Selah

5 Find rest, O my soul, in God alone;
my hope comes from him.

6 He alone is my rock and my salvation;
he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.

7 My salvation and my honor depend on God [a] ;
he is my mighty rock, my refuge.

8 Trust in him at all times, O people;
pour out your hearts to him,
for God is our refuge.
Selah

9 Lowborn men are but a breath,
the highborn are but a lie;
if weighed on a balance, they are nothing;
together they are only a breath.

10 Do not trust in extortion
or take pride in stolen goods;
though your riches increase,
do not set your heart on them.

11 One thing God has spoken,
two things have I heard:
that you, O God, are strong,

12 and that you, O Lord, are loving.
Surely you will reward each person
according to what he has done.

Oh, the Break!

2009-01-01T23:24:00.003-06:00

First, I must start by saying that I smell amazing, and my toes have never looked cuter. I'm not bragging because I have absolutely nothing to do with those things; they're only owing to a fantastic Christmas present of yummy smelling bath things and to my mom who treated me to a wonderful pedicure at this new place.

I wish I knew the name of the place because the people who work there are so very sweet and do such a great job. Seriously, this is the best pedicure I've ever had, and the price is really reasonable. I actually pretty much hate having pedicures, and I almost never do it because it's too pricey and because I figure I can make my toes look pretty decent on my own. But, for the occasional splurge, I'd definitely go back to this place.

I guess all of that silliness is to say that my Christmas break has been pretty nice (and, currently, nice smelling). There have been fun things to do, family to see, cookies and assorted treats to bake, and an all-around good time to be had. I especially loved the annual family sing along, even if we didn't get to sing all the verses of my favorite songs. :)

Nevertheless, it was a great time, and I'm looking forward to the rest of my break and to seeing just how long I stick to my resolutions. There's this pesky one about being organized and creating some sort of schedule. Um, feel free to take bets on that one. Odds are against me, but I'm going to prove the odds makers all wrong.

Love,

Sara

PS: I've been listening to Emiliana Torrini a bit lately. She has, perhaps, the sweetest voice ever, and, though I haven't listened to a ton of her stuff, I'd recommend checking her out.

The Future is Island Chains

2008-12-31T01:15:00.004-06:00

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

2008-12-30T00:16:00.003-06:00

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...

2008-11-24T00:03:00.002-06:00

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

2008-11-19T23:50:00.002-06:00

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

2008-11-07T00:42:00.002-06:00

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

2008-11-05T22:37:00.002-06:00

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.

2008-10-25T21:46:00.006-05:00

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!

2008-10-20T22:58:00.002-05:00

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

2008-10-18T23:39:00.003-05:00

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

2008-10-11T23:48:00.002-05:00

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

2008-10-06T20:23:00.002-05:00

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

2008-09-16T22:42:00.004-05:00

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!

2008-09-14T22:32:00.002-05:00

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

2008-09-09T23:37:00.003-05:00

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

2008-09-08T01:35:00.003-05:00

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

2008-09-03T23:07:00.003-05:00

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...

2008-08-28T22:32:00.002-05:00

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

2008-08-26T21:33:00.003-05:00

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

2008-08-15T22:29:00.003-05:00

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...

2008-08-14T11:58:00.003-05:00

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!

2008-08-01T22:46:00.005-05:00

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

2008-05-11T12:17:00.002-05:00

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

2008-04-29T14:53:00.003-05:00

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

2008-04-21T19:52:00.003-05:00

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

2008-04-20T22:41:00.003-05:00

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!

2008-04-19T13:34:00.004-05:00

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

2008-04-17T21:38:00.002-05:00

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

2008-04-15T21:16:00.005-05:00

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

2008-04-13T20:08:00.000-05:00

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

2008-04-10T23:09:00.000-05:00

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...

2008-04-08T19:55:00.000-05:00

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

2008-04-08T00:17:00.000-05:00

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

2008-04-06T22:38:00.000-05:00

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

2008-04-04T21:47:00.000-05:00

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

2008-04-02T19:31:00.000-05:00

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

2008-04-01T23:17:00.000-05:00

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

2008-03-31T02:03:00.000-05:00

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?

2008-03-30T04:02:00.000-05:00

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

2008-03-29T02:03:00.000-05:00

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.

I Have Something to Confess

2008-03-25T21:34:00.000-05:00

No, really. I must confess. I must confess that I have been covetous. It's been an ongoing thing. Every time I've seen someone with an Apple laptop, I have coveted that laptop.

I have been envious of the laptop owner and lustful of the laptop. I have sinned. Oh, how I have sinned.

However, I decided that rather than simply confess my sin and try to get over it, I'd just rush right into laptop ownership. That's right, folks. I am now the proud (oh, another sin) owner of a MacBook.

It's black. It's sleek. It's the cutest thing in my whole apartment, besides the hot pink iPod shuffle that came with it. And that shuffle is already charged and loaded up with tons of songs. Truly, I'm a total convert to the Apple. I love it.

And with this laptop, I plan on writing lots of blogs. I have plenty of ideas, and now I have something wonderful to write with!

Believe me, there's plenty of stuff I can tell you about my spring break. And I intend to. Here are just a few things I learned over the break:

1. You should be very careful when burning large amounts of paper.
2. Martin van Buren had funny hair.
3. Moo Tracks is delicious and is, quite possibly, a new favorite ice cream flavor for me.

Also, Easter was wonderful, and I'll write more about it. Okay, that's about all for now. I will be posting more. Promise!

Love,

Sara

Goodbye, Computer

2008-03-09T15:42:00.000-05:00

Oh my goodness!

My computer broke. Really, my computer has been lethargic and moody for some time now, and yesterday it decided to call it quits and just die. I should have seen it coming. There were all sorts of cries for help, but I didn't pay attention. I tried to make my computer heal itself, but it just couldn't.

So now my computer is on a truck to somewhere to be taken care of by the top computer specialists in the country. Someday, in two to four weeks, the computer will come back to me good as new-ish. And then we'll have good times again. Then my computer will be happy, just like when we first met, back when it was my shiny new computer.

I write this to say that my blogging might not be anywhere near regular, and for that I'm super sorry. I had tons of good ideas for new blogs. I even made up a little list of blog topics and was ready to write them and check them off as they were written. See? I was nearly, gasp, organized!!!

Oh well, someday the little lappy will come back to me, and then there will be plenty of blogs and plenty of work done.

Other than that, it's been a great Sunday. I'm even thinking about making some outrageous brownies for my students. I keep meaning to do something nice like that because they're all nice students, but I haven't done it yet. So, either I'll make some today or I'll wait until after the break, as some may be Lenting right now and unable to enjoy sugar or chocolate!

Okay, I hope you all have a great Sunday. Remember to rest!!!

Love!

Sara

Confessing Again

2008-03-04T19:43:00.000-06:00

Perhaps "confessing" is too strong a term for what I'm about to do here. Maybe I'm just making an observation about a habit of mine. And, maybe that habit of mine is a bad one. But, this habit of mine is not as bad as some other habits. It's much better than the habits some other people have, and it's even better than some other habits I have. In short, this habit isn't such a bad thing.

Well, now that I'm done justifying myself, I'll go ahead and talk about it. My habit is that I always look ahead and fail to see what's going on in the moment. Not so bad, right?

But, the thing is, I think it's a real problem. You see, I got to thinking about how many times I begin sentences with a phrase like, "As soon as I." Such as, "As soon as I feel more comfortable with my faith, I'll be more open about discussing it." Or, "As soon as I feel like a stronger Christian, I'll do more work at church or with some volunteer group."

Honestly, before I started volunteering at the pregnancy center, I had a lot of thoughts running around my head about how I needed to be more spiritual/religious/Jesusy/on fire. I thought I needed to know so many more things about, well, everything, and yet the women at the pregnancy center seemed to think that I would be a great fit there.

Seriously? Me? I kept thinking that until I knew all sorts of stuff or until I could be seen as a better example I just wasn't good enough to be the kind of person who could really reach people in the way that you need to reach people who come to a pregnancy center for help.

I wonder how many of us struggle with that same feeling. We feel that we must be whole and complete ourselves before we can help people in need. Or we feel that we must have it all together before we can reach out to others. After all, how can someone who doesn't have it all together really help anyone? I certainly don't understand how that person can be of any help.

The other day I was doing some reading for a Bible Study that I go to on Thursday nights. Part of the reading really spoke to me, and I wanted to share it with everyone. Here it is,

"The true reason you are on this earth may be different from what you once thought your purpose would be. The role you always thought you might fulfill may not be at all what God has actually asked you to do.

This doesn't mean that God doesn't still have certain roles, relationships, and opportunities ahead for you. It does mean that right where you are, God has a very specific purpose for you to fulfill."

How great is that? What I love about it is that it speaks to that need to always say, "As soon as I, " and it just lets you know that, no, right now God has a very specific purpose for you. It's true that God wants to see us grow, for us to seek Him, for us to try to discern His purpose for our lives. However, I don't think that He means for us to lose sight of how He can use us just as we are. I don't think He means for us to lose sight of all that is around us, of all the people who need to be helped and loved and listened to just because we are still waiting for our lives to completely change.

In fact, sometimes it is in reaching out, in seeking ways to help others, that our lives really do start to change, that God really begins to minister to those parts of us that are still hurting, still crushed, still in need of a loving God to bind them up. Sometimes it is in those times when we stop listening to our own protests and start listening to God that we finally see what we are meant to be doing, who we are meant to be. So now I'm trying to follow the example from Isaiah 6:8 and always remember to respond when I am called, despite my own worries and feelings of inadequacy. As it says,

"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!'"

And perhaps, when I make that my focus, I'll stop saying, "As soon as I" and start saying, "As soon as He."

Oh the weather outside...

2008-03-03T21:32:00.000-06:00

Oh my, was today quite a day! It started off as kind of a bleary, yucky day. The bleariness and yuckiness just continued. And, by that, I'm just talking about the weather. We had beautiful weather yesterday, but today we're back to cold, gray, snowy, rainy, and something they call a "wintry mix." Having lived here nearly three years, I can tell you that "wintry mix" is weatherman code for "stay inside and start making your Spring Break plans...think southern."

Seriously, folks, "wintry mix" is terrible!

But, anyways, I'm tough, and I can handle the "wintry mix." And, if "wintry mix" was all my day had in store, that would be okay by me. Unfortunately, there was more.

I got in a wreck.

That's right, people. I got in a wreck. Nobody is hurt or anything, so it's nothing major, nothing bad. But, I got in a wreck as I was driving with my boss in the passenger seat. Yes, you heard right. Can you imagine anything more embarrassing? You're driving along with your boss and then there's a wreck. I was a little mortified, to say the least.

Anyways, I would love to write something wonderful today, but I think I'll just be lazy instead. I also think I'll take this time to share something with you all, something I think you might enjoy, something that is very dear to my heart. It's a little video called...

"Baby Got Book" (C'mon, you know you're curious. Check it out!)

Rest

2008-03-02T21:32:00.000-06:00

This morning, I heard birds chirping outside of my window. I know that might sound like an idyllic way to wake up in the morning, light streaming through the window and little birds singing outside, but it's not. It was awful. There must have been nearly 500 of those little birds chirping right outside my window, all while I wanted to sleep just a little while longer, just as I wanted a little more rest. And it seemed as if they were birds of all different types, just chirping at each other, each one trying to outdo the other. And all of this as I tried to sneak in just a little more sleep.

For whatever reason, I find lack of sleep to be one of the roughest things to deal with. I mean, apart from real tragedies or serious illnesses. It's just hard to face the day when you haven't had the real, deep rest that you needed. You feel more irritable, less alive, more like you're just going through the motions.

I thought about that today in church, as I tried to keep myself awake. To be fair, I tried to keep myself awake the rest of the day too, so it wasn't church that made me sleepy. I was just sleepy.

And, in my sleepy state, I thought a lot about rest. I thought about how good I had felt last night, as I pulled my soft and squishy comforter up around my neck and positioned my head just so on my pillow. I thought about how even the colors of my bedding make me feel peaceful, the soft aqua sheets with pretty flowers and the light green blanket. And, of course, my personal favorite is that cushy white comforter. Just thinking about my bed makes me feel at peace, makes me anticipate a good rest.

But, as I sat there in the pew at church, I thought about how it's sometimes hard to feel restful when confronted with questions of faith, of religion, of God. Those questions are sometimes so unsettling that we cannot find rest, as we constantly question what is right, what is true, what is best. Sometimes it feels as if there are so many voices, all trying to get us to listen to them, all trying to make us see why their way is the right way. And in the midst of all of those voices, it's hard to find anything resembling rest because we are pulled in so many different directions.

I have to think that things shouldn't be that difficult, that somewhere there is that rest and peace which God promises us. And, as I sat in that pew today, I thought of the hymn we had sung the week before, as I stood in that same sanctuary. We sang the song, "My Faith Has Found a Resting Place." As I sung it last week and as I recalled its words today, I felt a peace that comes from hearing a great truth, the kind of rest that comes from knowing how simple things truly can be.

The whole hymn is wonderful, but I'll share the first verse and chorus with you:

"My faith has found a resting place,
Not in device or creed;
I trust the ever living One,
His wounds for me shall plead.

I need no other argument,
I need no other plea,
It is enough that Jesus died,
And that He died for me."

It's so very simple, and yet it says everything. It is enough that Jesus died, and that He died for me. Beautiful, really. Beautiful because of its truth, beautiful because it calls me to a greater faith in Jesus, beautiful because I can have a resting place.

And beautiful because I know that, even when those voices and arguments cause me to question my belief in many things, my belief in Jesus is what gives me rest. I know that I can hold onto the truth of Hebrews 4:14-16 which says,

"14Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. 15For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. 16Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."

And that confidence in what is true, in what good and right, all of that gives me rest. It gives me the kind of rest that's even better than the kind of rest I'm about to get as I pull my comforter up around my chin tonight. And that is the kind of rest that I think all of us could use, the kind of rest we get when we accept God's grace, when we know that it's simple enough to find our resting place.

How Big is My God?

2008-03-01T18:34:00.000-06:00

Recently I went to a planning meeting for a fundraiser. The fundraiser is for the pregnancy center that I volunteer at. I, obviously, think it's a wonderful cause. They do so much work there, not only to provide clothes and nutrition and guidance to mothers who are facing struggles during pregnancy, but also to really show God's love and grace.

I hadn't considered how important that whole "God's love and grace" part is, but, it's one of the most important parts of their work. I started thinking about this just a while ago, as I remembered something one of the women said at the meeting.

She was talking about the need for funding. The cost for running such an operation is pretty high, and they hope to add ultrasound to their services, adding even more to the expenses. Well, the woman said that we all need to work diligently to raise funds but that we also have to rely on God. And then she said something about how big God is, and I just wondered if we ever really understand how big that really is?

I mean, how can we wrap our heads around that? How can we begin to comprehend something so outside of our understanding?

I guess what got me thinking about this, really, is that it seems that we have so many times when God seems so small. You know, we all have those times when we hurt so much, feel so terrible, struggle with physical and emotional and mental pains. And in those times, in those very dark times, it can feel like God is not big enough to shine a light into our darkness.

But, it made me wonder if those are the same times when we, feeling defeated by our surroundings or by the sad ruminations of our own brains, fail to see how big God really is. Do we assume that our God is not a big God? Do we, in our inability to see the possibility of God's light shining into our darkness, make God smaller than He really is? Do we forget that our God is the God who separated the light from the darkness, that God is light and in Him is no darkness at all?

I think we do forget that. At least, I do. I was really feeling that way not too long ago, and it was pretty difficult, as it seemed like that feeling would not go away, as I felt like my God was not a God who could make me feel any better than I did right at that moment. And, quite frankly, how I felt at that moment was pretty awful.

Now, I don't write that to be maudlin or to engage in some pity party. Though, with a pint of Ben & Jerry's I could be persuaded to join anyone in a good old-fashioned pity party. Just name the time and place, and I'll be there. We can indulge each other in feeling sorry for ourselves. But that's not what I'm talking about right now.

What I'm talking about is not knowing how big God is. What I'm talking about is falling into a time of feeling like the circumstances of my life, like the awful way I felt, was bigger than my God.

The good news is, I didn't stay there. That's right. There was a giant flash of light, rainbows appeared overhead, glitter fell from the sky, and in that beautiful moment, I understood that God could make me feel better.

Okay, none of that happened. Somehow God never seems to work that way. For some reason, it seems like He wants us to work a little bit, like He wants us to try to have an actual relationship with Him in order to know Him better. And, when we know Him better, we start to understand just how big our God is. That's what happened for me.

I was reading a book, and it quoted Isaiah 43:10-12,

10 "You are my witnesses," declares the LORD,
"and my servant whom I have chosen,
so that you may know and believe me
and understand that I am he.
Before me no god was formed,
nor will there be one after me.

11 I, even I, am the LORD,
and apart from me there is no savior.

12 I have revealed and saved and proclaimed—
I, and not some foreign god among you.
You are my witnesses," declares the LORD, "that I am God."

I read that, and it spoke directly to me. All I could think was, "That is my God." And suddenly I thought of how big God is, how able He is to help me with any problems I have.

I think about that when I remember the people who have prayed for me and with me, when I think of all the people I've met who have spoken truth to me at just the right times, when I think of how perfectly timed everything is, when I think of how much God has provided for me.

It's not difficult to understand when I let myself be open to it, when I let myself accept the truth that my God is a God who will provide for all of my needs. That my God is a God who can provide for all of my needs.

My God is just that big.

Beauty

2008-02-26T23:06:00.000-06:00

I love it when a good song gets stuck in my head, when a few good lyrics just keep coming to mind. That rarely happens, right? It's usually the song you hate that won't ever leave your mind. But there are times, wonderful times, when you keep thinking of a song you actually like.

Lately, I've had a few lines of a Sara Groves song stuck in my head. The lines are:

"And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story
I want to shine with the light
That's burning up inside"

Part of the reason they're stuck in my head is that they're really nicely sung, and I love to sing. But part of the reason they're stuck in my head is that they're how I feel. You know, they remind me of part of 1 John:

"1That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched—this we proclaim concerning the Word of life. 2The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us. 3We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. 4We write this to make our joy complete."

I added the italics because I love that verse. "We write this to make our joy complete."

I guess I love it because that's why I write. And maybe that's why I love the lines of that song, because I want to add to the beauty, because I want to understand and tell about the beauty that I've seen. The beauty in which there is light, and no darkness.

Sometimes getting lyrics stuck in your head isn't such a bad thing. Sometimes those lyrics explain a greater truth.