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
Monday, November 24, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Little Blog
Just a little blog to share something I think is funny. Greta snores. My tiny, seven-pound dog sounds like a chainsaw. It's awful. And it makes me laugh. Fortunately, it doesn't wake me up, because that would not make me laugh.
Also, I'm nearing the end of the semester. Lots of thoughts/emotions/feelings about that. It's been a really great semester--a lot of changes, a lot of new people, a lot of new things learned. As for things unlearned? I hate documentation styles, and I'm pretty sure that I did my best to avoid thinking about them as much as is possible for someone who both teaches composition and works at a writing center. But, I try my best to help those who really want to know how to use MLA properly. And, I try my best to stay awake while doing so. ;)
In other news, I've been super busy with work but managing to fit in having a life. In short, life is good.
Loves,
Sara
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
Friday, November 07, 2008
Procrastination
I'm supposed to be grading. Actually, I'm supposed to have been grading for the past few weeks.
And yet.
And yet.
Here I am, with so many ungraded papers it's making my head spin! The truth of it is that these papers are very easy to grade. They take almost no time at all to grade, in fact. But, despite how quickly I can grade them, there's just something about grading them all in one shot that's starting to making my brain turn to mush.
So I bought a CD off iTunes.
The fact is, I needed something new to listen to, some new stimulus for me weary old brain. So, I bought a CD by Andrew Osenga. I just learned about him yesterday, and I'm glad I did. He's got a nice, folky sound. Good lyrics. Clean sounds, nothing too muddled or overproduced. I like that. His voice kind of reminds me of Ryan Adams. I like that as well.
Check him out, people!
:)
Sara
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
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
The Day After
So, the election's over, and we know who won. I have to say that, as someone who believes in the sanctity of life, it makes me sad to know that we've just put into office the candidate who has promised to sign FOCA. That we've elected someone who puts that as a top priority.
Those things bother me. They bother me deeply.
And yet, I'm not overcome. I voted for life, and that's really all I could do. And, when I really think about it, I know that we can never craft a legislation that will change hearts. All that the law does is limit availability; it doesn't speak to the deep needs of women who are facing a pregnancy that they feel so unprepared for and overwhelmed by.
Only love can speak to those needs. And so, we will pray.
We may even give praise. Praise to a God who loves us. Praise to a God who is still almighty. Praise to a God who knows our hearts, our hurts, and our needs.
"Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."
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."
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Let us be catholic.
I have a confession.
Sometimes movies make me cry. I know that this shouldn't come as any big surprise, and I'm sure most anyone reading this has had those moments. Maybe it was Beaches or Steel Magnolias. Those are real tear-jerkers. And they made me cry too.
But, there's something else that really gets me. It's those movie scenes where people come together, where there is some moment when people must come together for the greater good despite their differences. Those scenes get me every single time.
The other night, I went to a worship service. I stood outside in the night air, illuminated by candlelight. I stood there with other believers, both Catholic and Protestant, and we sang and praised God together. We asked for His blessings, for His mercy. And, together, we recited the Apostles' Creed. It's difficult to describe the feeling I got while confessing those words alongside others who believe them so strongly, so beautifully.
Together we confessed,
"I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth: And in Jesus Christ his only Son, our Lord; who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried; he descended into hell; the third day he rose again from the dead; he ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Ghost; the holy catholic church; the communion of saints; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body; and the life everlasting. Amen"
Despite theological differences, we were, each of us, able to say these words not only with our mouths but in our hearts. And, it is the belief in those words, in the great gift of life made possible by the death of Christ, that led each of us to the spot where we were standing that evening.
That night was part of a prayer vigil focused on the sanctity of life. We were gathered together in a common belief that life is precious, that even the smallest human life is deserving of our love and support, of our prayers and our dedication to a common good that cannot deny that life a chance to be born.
And it is that belief in the sanctity of life which led Bishop Kevin Farrell and Bishop Kevin Vann to write a joint statement to the Faithful of the Dioceses of Dallas and Fort Worth; this statement is a further explanation of a previous statement by the Bishops of the United States. These two men have written this statement to instruct Catholic voters, but, as I read their statement, I couldn't help but believe that its words are true for all who confess the Creed, as each of us is indebted to a God who is the Author of Life.
They write:
"As Pope John Paul II clearly states:
"Disregard for the right to life, precisely because it leads to the killing of the person whom society exists to serve, is what most directly conflicts with the possibility of achieving the common good... It is impossible to further the common good without acknowledging and defending the right to life, upon which all the other inalienable rights of individuals are founded and from which they develop..." (The Gospel of Life, 72; 101)
Therefore, we cannot make more clear the seriousness of the overriding issue of abortion – while not the "only issue" – it is the defining moral issue, not only today, but of the last 35 years. Since the Roe v. Wade decision in 1973, more than 48 million innocent lives have been lost. Each year in our nation more than one million lives are lost through legalized abortion. Countless other lives are also lost through embryonic stem cell research. In the coming months our nation will once again elect our political leaders. This electoral cycle affords us an opportunity to promote the culture of life in our nation. As Catholics we are morally obligated to pray, to act, and to vote to abolish the evil of abortion in America, limiting it as much as we can until it is finally abolished.
As Catholics we are faced with a number of issues that are of concern and should be addressed, such as immigration reform, healthcare, the economy and its solvency, care and concern for the poor, and the war on terror. As Catholics we must be concerned about these issues and work to see that just solutions are brought about. There are many possible solutions to these issues and there can be reasonable debate among Catholics on how to best approach and solve them. These are matters of "prudential judgment." But let us be clear: issues of prudential judgment are not morally equivalent to issues involving intrinsic evils. No matter how right a given candidate is on any of these issues, it does not outweigh a candidate's unacceptable position in favor of an intrinsic evil such as abortion or the protection of "abortion rights."
As Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship states:
"The direct and intentional destruction of innocent human life from the moment of conception until natural death is always wrong and is not just one issue among many. It must always be opposed." (28)
Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship, in paragraphs 34-37, addresses the question of whether it is morally permissible for a Catholic to vote for a candidate who supports an intrinsic evil – even when the voter does not agree with the candidate's position on that evil. The only moral possibilities for a Catholic to be able to vote in good conscience for a candidate who supports this intrinsic evil are the following:
a. If both candidates running for office support abortion or "abortion rights," a Catholic would be forced to then look at the other important issues and through their vote try to limit the evil done; or,
b. If another intrinsic evil outweighs the evil of abortion. While this is sound moral reasoning, there are no "truly grave moral" or "proportionate" reasons, singularly or combined, that could outweigh the millions of innocent human lives that are directly killed by legal abortion each year.
To vote for a candidate who supports the intrinsic evil of abortion or "abortion rights" when there is a morally acceptable alternative would be to cooperate in the evil – and, therefore, morally impermissible."
Anyone who knows me knows that politics is my least favorite topic, and yet, for me, abortion isn't just a political issue. It's an issue which speaks to our belief in life and its value. It's an issue which sees those who are faced with it at their most vulnerable, and it's an issue which asks us, as those who love and believe in God, to reach out, to see Jesus in each and every person, even those who have yet to be born. It's an issue which tests how we will choose to treat "the least of these."
So, in this election, let us be catholic. Not necessarily in the sense of being a part of the Roman Catholic Church, but in keeping with the meaning of the word catholic. Let us include all who trust in Christ, and let us be the Body of Christ here on earth.
Love,
Sara
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
Monday, October 20, 2008
Send Me!
Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?"
And I said, "Here am I. Send me!"
Isaiah 6:8
I love that verse. Maybe because, reluctant as I am to admit this, I'm a romantic, and I love the idea of having some great purpose, some great mission, some great reason for being. And, that's part of it.
But, I also love that verse because it makes me think of the million little ways that we can say, "Here am I. Send me!"
Not too long ago, I was reading an article written by a priest, and he was saying that, because we are the Body of Christ here on earth, we are called to minister to those who need help, those who are troubled and hurting.
I think we start doing that when we begin listening for God's voice, when we start looking for those million little ways that He can use us, those million little ways He can work through us, using us as His hands and feet, eyes and ears. We become the means by which God's love is carried to those who need it when we hear Him and answer, "Here am I. Send me!"
By the way, I've never written about this before, but usually when I write, I'll listen to one song over and over. Often my writing is inspired by something I've been listening to. The other night I went to a praise and worship gathering (which, incidentally, involved the police, though no arrests were made), and we sang this song. I'd never heard it before, but with all those people coming together, it was just beautiful. This is definitely a song that is a prayer. It's beautiful, and I listened to it while writing tonight. If you want to check out the song, it's by the Robbie Seay Band. Download it immediately, and then commence with prayer and meditation. :)
Oh, my God
Shine Your light on us
That we might live
I've been holding on
I've been holding on
All that is inside me
Screams to come back home
If you feel lost
If you feel lost
Sing along
If you feel tired
If you feel tired
Sing along
If you feel lost and tired
This is your song
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
Saturday, October 18, 2008
My Friday Night
I had a wild and crazy Friday night. I babysat.
That's right, folks. I was left alone with and in charge of a two year old. And we're both still doing fine!
It was a lot of fun, actually. We watched Cars and danced when the music was fun. Apparently, there are certain parts of the movie that you're supposed to dance during. Who knew?
Anyways, it was a fun time, even though I had no luck getting him to go to sleep. Baby John always has funny things to say, so I'll leave you with this gem,
"I don't eat dogs. I eat vegetables."
(By the way, I promise that I didn't make him view any PETA videos on animal cruelty. He just came up with that on his own.)
:)
Sara
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
Saturday, October 11, 2008
I Like This
A quote from a book I've been reading, a prayer:
"Dear Lord, grant me the grace of wonder. Surprise me, amaze me, awe me in every crevice of Your Universe. Delight me to see how Your Christ plays in ten thousand places, lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not His, to the Father through the features of men's faces. Each day enrapture me with Your marvelous things without number. I do not ask to see the reason for it all; I ask only to share the wonder of it all."
Beautiful, right?
I thought about that today, thinking over the wonder of life and birth and death. And how important that wonder is. How necessary that I, that you, that we still stand amazed at the wonder of all that is around us. Of the beauty of life. Of the worth and sanctity of life. That we consider that wonder in the large things and even the small.
So, perhaps we pray a little more. Maybe we care a little more. We wonder a little more at this gift that is life. And maybe that makes us love each other just a bit more.
"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.
Monday, October 06, 2008
This Weekend
Well, this weekend was a ton of fun. I went to Oklahoma, surprised my aunt, and ran in the Race for the Cure. It was great because there were so many family and friends there to encourage my aunt, and I think it made her feel good to know so many people care. Plus, she got an awesome (pink and black) cake for her birthday, and I was more than happy to have a piece of that! :)
While I was in OK, I (of course) took a little time to shop and got some great shoes. Comfy, classic, perfect to go with my suit in case I ever have to find a job. I say that like I don't work, but I do work. Pretty much all the time. And you know what? I think I like working a lot. True, it does take some getting used to because it's way different than the sort of schedule I'd been accustomed to as a grad student, but, as I'm getting used to it, I'm really liking that I get to go to work and meet up with my super wonderful co-workers and get to see my students. It's good times!
Oh, back to Oklahoma. I found this cool pet shop there. They sell dog treats and food and accoutrement. The food is all really healthy for the pups, and, judging by the reactions I've gotten so far, dogs really love eating healthy. So long as healthy involves such tasty things as lamb and sweet potato stew and buffalo gravy over regular dog food. What four-legged friend wouldn't love that? Greta's in heaven with all these treats!
Anyways, those are the goings on here!
Love!
Sara
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
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Sound of Melodies
I have this memory that I keep coming back to. It's the memory of leaving San Salvador, and when I think of it, I want so much to go back, to see the kids, to know how they are doing.
When I left San Salvador, we loaded up the van with probably more children than would be allowed in the US. We were all very cozily situated for the trip, but I was so glad that so many of the children got to go with us, to see us off at the airport.
On the way to the airport, we listened to the radio--super loud, as always. And we got to hear so many songs that had become our favorites during our stay. There was one song that we heard so many times we nearly had it memorized. And, as that song came on the radio, all the children started singing along.
I can't describe the beauty of listening to those children, many of them scarred emotionally and physically by families who abandoned them, hearing those children whose hearts have ached so much more than I can ever imagine lift their voices in praise to God. I had to wonder if there is anything more beautiful than the sound of children singing to God. The sound of children who trust and believe, even though their lives should have taught them to trust and believe in nothing.
Maybe that beauty is what happens when God binds up the hearts of the afflicted. Maybe He gives them this ability to create a sound so beautiful it touches our hearts, lets us see Jesus in their eyes, makes us want to love them as God does.
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.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Hurricane!
Hello, All!
Well, I just thought I'd let you know that I am safe here in Texas, despite the fact that the state is now a disaster area. Here in my area, things didn't get too bad. There were some trees uprooted and other good stuff like that, but, for the most part, the people (myself included) have been safe and unharmed. Gracias a Dios.
Right now, our area is just taking in people from places harder hit than we were, and it has been really amazing to see the outpouring of help coming from many good-hearted people. Churches are full of people needing a place to stay, and there are plenty of people there to meet them and help them get some food and some rest in the midst of this disaster. Again, gracias a Dios for putting such giving and loving people right here for such a time as this.
much love,
Sara
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
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Old Hymns
I really love old hymns. There's just something so beautiful about their lyrics, always so poetic and rich with meaning. Sometimes I feel like I just need to sit and take in the lyrics, let them fill up my head so that I can think about them a little more, spend some time with them, fall in love with them a little bit.
I love them for their lyrics, but I also love them because they're a part of me. I grew up singing along with old hymns in church. My favorite as a child was "Shall We Gather at the River." It's traditionally a funeral song, so you can feel free to infer anything you'd like from that. All I know is that I loved to sing the words,
"Shall we gather at the river,
Where bright angel feet have trod,
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?
Yes, we’ll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river;
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God."
And why would we not gather by that river? Can you imagine anything more beautiful than that river with angels, so close to God? There's something in a song like that that just speaks to my soul, something that lets me think about Heaven and how beautiful it must be. And there's something about lyrics to old hymns that just feels as if they're crafted especially to fit into the spaces in our hearts that most need those words, the spaces that are aching to be comforted and awakened to the beauty and wonder of God.
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.
Monday, September 08, 2008
An Entry for Today
A few years ago, I was thinking about my belief in God. I guess it wasn't just one, fixed moment in time, but a lot of little times when my thoughts turned in that direction. For whatever reason, though I rarely went to church and almost never prayed, there was something in me that would turn toward thinking about God in the odd moments of life.
A few years ago, I'd decided that I did, in fact, believe in God. But, I felt like God could not be proved. I could not know in any certain way, but I chose to believe. I chose to believe because I liked the idea of living in a world in which there was a God better than the idea of living in a world without God. And yet, there remained this question of God. There remained these moments in which I'd catch myself believing something (a moral, an ethic) so strongly but not having a way to understand why. Sometimes the tugging on my heart was so strong and so relentless.
At some point, I guess I started wondering if these odd tuggings on my heart had something to do with this God I could not prove. I started wondering if they had something to do with this God of whom I could never be certain. I started to wonder if there could be some sort of Truth, some sort of absolute amid all the uncertainty of life. Could there be something which could challenge me to greater things than I knew? Could there be someone who knew the plans he had for me--plans to prosper and not to harm, plans to give me hope and a future? Could that someone be God, and could I know Him, truly know Him?
Somehow, through grace and love and prayer, God showed me that He is real, that He is faithful and full of love. That His ways are not my ways, but that, through learning of His ways, there can be a newness, a rebirth of all things. I still prefer living in a world in which there is a God to living in one in which there is not. But, there is such a peace and and endless awe of knowing that He is real, that He is not just a God I have chosen to allow into my world, but that He is a God who has chosen, through His infinite love, to allow me into His world. And, because of that, I am forever blessed.
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.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Prayer
I have never been much of a pray-er. And, I'm sorry for just using that word that is really not even a word, but it's the best thing I could think of. I just didn't pray very much. Or, I guess I should say that I didn't think much about what I prayed about. For a long time, I prayed every night, but I sort of just said the same thing each night. There wasn't a lot of thought about it. And, though my nightly prayer time fizzled out for many years, it would come back in small spurts when I'd have important things going on or when I knew people who were sick and "needed prayer," whatever that meant.
One day as I was on the phone with my friend Alanna, we ended up talking about prayer. I'm not sure how we got on the subject, and I don't remember much of the conversation, really, but I do remember that, at some point in the conversation, Alanna was talking about prayer as a means of relating to God. And, then she said something to the effect that, as you grow in a relationship through prayer, God begins to tell you what to pray about.
Huh.
I'm sure I probably said something like, "Oh. Yeah." I sometimes like to pretend that I understand things. But, really, all I was thinking was, "That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. In fact, though I'm sure she really believes it, that just sounds crazy to me."
It really did sound crazy to me. I mean, if God knows what I need, why should I wait for Him to tell me that I need to pray for it? Why doesn't He just give it to me? I mean, He's God. It's not like that would be out of His power to do, right? He's God. Did I just repeat that? Yes, I did. Because that was really the hangup for me. If God is so powerful, then He is able to anticipate my needs, and the needs of anyone else for that matter. So, if He saw a need within me, like a need to grow in some area, it didn't make sense that He would tell me to ask Him for help. That just sounded nuts.
But, I had to give her the benefit of the doubt because most of my prayers had simply been prayers asking God for things. Please keep me safe. Please don't let my grandfather die. Please. I did a lot of asking for major things, but no real talking, no real relating.
Over the last year or so, I started praying more. I have to be honest. I don't always like it. I try to pray even on those days when the idea of praying is least appealing to me, because I figure that's when I probably need it most, but I'm far from being a perfect pray-er, even now.
And, through praying more, I guess I'm coming to understand the reasons for praying. And maybe I'm even starting to grasp what Alanna was saying.
The other day, I was thinking about what it is to have a relationship with God. I was thinking, especially, about the fact that God does not force us into relationship with Him; instead, He gives us the free will to choose. And I kind of feel that that freedom is reflected througout a relationship with God. I mean, we are fully capable of choosing to believe or not, of accepting Christ as Saviour or not. Really, this choice is ours. And yet, even if I do believe, even if I do have that sort of faith, there is still so much room to grow in understanding and knowing God, in being able to grasp His purpose for my life.
And I guess this is where prayer comes in. Sure, I really thought Alanna was a little nuts when she said that God will tell you what to pray for, but I've really begun to see what she means.
As I've experienced it, that means that, while praying or reflecting on the Bible, I have a sense of some area in which I need to grow or some step that I need to take in life. Again, why wouldn't God just fix that area for me? He knows I'm lacking in that area better than I do. And yet, if He were to fix those things, I wouldn't have to do any growing myself. My free will would be taken away because I wouldn't be given the choice to grow or to stay the same. I wouldn't be growing in a relationship with God, learning to rely on Him to give me counsel about my life. And, I think most importantly to me, I wouldn't see (through all the much needed prayer) how very dependent I am on God to make the kind of changes in my life that bring about true changes of the heart and mind and soul. When I connect with God in prayer, in order to seek help, I can really see how God is loving and nuturing and guiding me to enable true changes in me, changes that I really could not make alone.
And all of this leaves me completely amazed. At the love that God has for us all, that He would give us such freedom. Of His ability to move through our lives, awakening each of us to the deepest needs of our souls, needs that we sometimes don't even recognize until He lovingly shows them to us. And amazed that, at any time during the day, I can actually talk to God.
And so I do talk to God. Just because I can! ;)
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! ;)
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Fumbling Toward Holiness...
I've always liked to swim. I don't do it very often now, but, when I was younger, I would spend hours swimming back and forth in our pool. I've never been scared of the water and would jump right into the deep end, no problem.
Maybe that sounds brave and fearless.
Could be. But, I can tell you that generally there's a pretty thin line between bravery and foolishness. And I've done plenty of things that teetered rather precariously on that line. And yet, even though I know that I have this tendency towards foolishness masked as bravery, that doesn't much stop me from continuing to jump in the deep end, be it the deep end of the pool or a deep end of a more metaphorical sort.
I guess I keep doing such things because, to be honest, the fool in me is really too naive to understand the danger I might get myself into. The fool in me doesn't see impending doom. The fool in my sees only the excitement or the good that will come out of taking the risk, if the fool in me can even understand that it's a risk being taken.
I was thinking about this today, as I fumbled around in a bit of a funk, sad about everything. I won't go into detail about what all I was sad about because there were a great many things, and each of them are so large they'd necessitate a separate post, if not a collection of books.
But, anyways, I was in a funk. And I was in a funk precisely because I had jumped in the deep end.
You see, I'm usually a pretty distant person, at least emotionally speaking. I'm incredibly funny. I mean, I'm not even bragging here, people. I'm hilarious. I know this because I totally crack myself up most of the time. I say some of the funniest things to me, you wouldn't even believe. Again, that's a whole different post.
But, suffice it to say, I can communicate well with people because I'm funny. But that's often pretty much it. I mean, I'm not going to cry on your shoulder and tell you my feelings. And, for the love of all that is good in this world, I hope that you don't try to put your head on my shoulder and cry. I'm telling you, seriously, I'm not sure what I would do. I would probably implode or have a panic attack or just plain pass out. Barring those things, I would at least tense up and have no idea what to say to you. I would have no words to communicate.
Yes, I am that person. I'm not saying I like it. In fact, I really don't. And that's how I ended up jumping in the deep end.
It started off simply enough. I decided that, if I was to truly open up to people and care about people, I would need some help. And, I decided I'd get that help by praying about it. Yep. It sounded like a good idea. I'd pray that I could really and truly love people. That I would see people as God sees people. And that (and here's where I really got myself in trouble) I'd love people as Jesus loves them.
Sounds great, right? Jesus is loving. God is love. Jesus loves me. We sing songs about this stuff. They're good songs. Happy songs.
So, I decided to pray that I'd love people as Jesus does. Now, I wasn't great at this prayer. I kept it up for a while, and then I dropped it for a while. Here recently, I'd really started it up again. And that's how I ended up in the funk, treading water in the deep end. I'm a good swimmer, but I wasn't quite prepared for what I'd jumped into.
You see, when I thought about loving people as Jesus loves them, I'd simply thought about feeling warmly toward people. Caring about them in a way that's a little more personal than the sort of abstract way that I'd always cared about people before. To love people like Jesus would simply mean to care about them. To see the good in them, to seek to see that good even when I didn't really like them. That's what I figured loving people like Jesus would be like.
But, loving people like Jesus loves them means hurting for them. How I didn't factor that in, I'm not sure. And yet, I didn't. I didn't think that loving people as Jesus loves them would mean that I would see their hurts and hurt for them. I didn't think it would mean that I'd think about people I don't even know and worry for them, care for them. But that's what happens.
The other day, I was in the campus bookstore, and I bought a book called Redeemed. So far, I'm kind of in love with it because I'm kind of in love with reading stories of faith and how people come to faith. The author, Heather King, writes about falling in love with Christ and coming to understand His love for all of us.
"I couldn't get my mind around a God who ruled by such apparent powerlessness. If Christ is God made man, it came to me one day, for instance, then God lets us kill him. He didn't, and doesn't, so much "die for our sins" as love us so much, so fiercely guard our free will, that he allows himself to be in a relationship with us in which he is capable of being hurt; in which he allows himself to be totally, totally vulnerable. He could have made himself impervious to hurt, but he didn't. And when we hurt him--because it did hurt, almost beyond comprehension, to be betrayed by his friends, to have his life's work go for seemingly nothing, to be scourged, mocked, scorned, to be crowned with thorns and have spikes driven through his palms, the soft part of his feet, to basically suffocate to death, publicly, with people spitting at him and jeering, which continues to happen, throughout the world, every day, as we kill the Christ in ourselves and others, revile him, commit barbarous acts in his name--he doesn't hold a grudge, doesn't have a word of reproach. He says, Oh come back, you're back? Oh that makes me so happy, come over here by me and I'll tell you what I've learned, I'll show you how to be awake, alive, reconciled..."
It's so beautiful, isn't it? To love like that. And so, though I do feel the pain of that kind of love, I also feel the joy that comes from knowing what it is to love like that, if only to know some small part of that kind of love. And though it feels at times like I won't see the surface of the deep end again, I'd rather foolishly keep jumping in. I'd rather let the fool in me jump into loving too deeply than to play it safe by the water's edge.
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.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
School Days
The first two days of school are already over, and I kind of miss them already. A woman who works in our office was teasing, saying to another instructor that I like my students so much just because I'm in love with the first day of school.
And, you know what?
She's at least partly right on that one. I really am in love with the first day of school. I still buy back-to-school supplies. And some of them are hot pink. Okay, pretty much all of them are hot pink. And maybe one or two things are Hello Kitty, but I don't parade those around the students or anything.
The really great thing is that I've gotten to be part of the first day of school every year since I started kindergarten, and I've been part of the first day of school at a huge university every year since my first day as a college freshman.
And I feel really lucky to be there. I love to see the excitement on the faces of students who are just starting their college careers. I love the huge crush of people around certain parts of campus. I even love the poster sales that happen at the beginning of every school year.
I guess I just love the newness of it all. But I think that I'm mainly in love with the hopefulness of it, that all things are new on the first day of school, that the year holds so much possibility. I think that's why I love teaching at a university. I get to be a part of all of that each year and, in some small way, I get to be a part of my students' lives, to be there as they begin this part of their lives.
Well, those are my thoughts on the first day of school. I love it. And, now I'd better go to sleep, because tomorrow begins the third day of school. Now begins the time when I actually have to teach them things! Pray for me! ;)
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! ;)
Friday, August 15, 2008
Milkshakes and Tears
It started with a breakdown. My time at the orphanage in El Salvador, that is.
It was a Saturday afternoon, and, for reasons I cannot remember, there weren't many people around the orphanage. The members of the group we'd been with for the first week had left a few hours before, and we'd had a sad goodbye to them at the airport. The kids must have been doing something, and Susan and Maegen, my two roommates and fellow English speakers, must have been off with the kids.
Except one of the kids was there, and so was I. I was with Saul, a thirteen year old boy who has Muscular Dystrophy. He had also recently broken his leg in a fall from his wheelchair. In better circumstances, surgery might be needed, but Saul's body is not strong enough to go through surgery. This isn't a situation in which we can think of the possibility of getting him better medical care in the US. It's true that the care would be better than what is currently available to him. And yet, it is also true that the disease he has is one that will eventually be fatal, no matter how good the medical care he receives.
I'd just learned all of this the day before. And I thought of it as I helped feed Saul the rest of the milkshake that he was unable to finish the night before.
And then I just couldn't do it. I felt the tears in my eyes. I mumbled something in Spanish about needing to get a napkin. I went straight to my room.
And there, sitting on my bed, I just lost it. I started crying, annoyed with myself for not being able to keep it together, but crying all the same. In my mind, I began counting off the days that I had left in El Salvador, trying to figure out how much longer I had to stay in this place I was not strong enough to deal with, how many more times I'd have to blink back tears.
I'd like to say that there was some great revelation that came to me, some great insight about life that straightened me up right in that moment. But life never really goes like that for me. What stopped my crying was knowing that there was a young boy who needed help eating his milkshake, who needed the napkin I said I was going to get.
I know Saul knew that I'd been crying. He didn't tell me he knew, but he is sweet and very wise. He also like stories about monsters. And music. And movies. And he puts up with my terrible Spanish, especially with the awful stories I make up before bedtime. And he likes to pray at night before he goes to sleep.
As it turned out, there weren't many more sad moments with Saul. Somehow the disease that weakens Saul's body, that thing which was at the front of my mind on that first day, moved to the back of my mind as I learned more about Saul, about his life and likes and dislikes.
But the day that I sat on my bed crying, I wondered why God would want me to be in El Salvador. Surely, I had misunderstood. Surely, God had plans for someone better suited. Someone less selfish, someone less materialistic, someone more giving, someone more loving. And yet, there I sat. I was the one in El Salvador, crying and wondering what I was to do. I guess I learned that I was there to love. I was there to give, even when I didn't feel like giving. And, in doing that, maybe I learned a little. Maybe I became a little more like the person God should have sent.
Or maybe not. I'm never too keen on being self congratulatory, and I'm still plenty rotten. :)
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. :)
Thursday, August 14, 2008
I'm Home! Sort of...
Well, I made it back to the USA in one piece, though I have to admit that I'd probably jump on a plane back to El Salvador in a minute if given the chance. :) It was a really amazing trip, and I have lots of things to write about. Right now I'm just getting readjusted to life in the US. It's really different.
I suppose a lot of people expect that it's a welcome relief for me to have a hot shower everyday and to have more freedom of movement. Soyapango and Ciudad Delgado (the areas of San Salvador where I lived) are fairly dangerous, so I wasn't able to just hop on a bus and go to the store whenever I wanted. But, the thing is, I wasn't ever scared. And, things like hot showers are nice but not necessary.
Getting readjusted to life here is strange and kind of funny at times. I still try to plan out how to say things in Spanish. I miss arroz and frijoles and tortillas and pupusas. I miss having roommates and eating PB&J with them in the mornings. And I really miss my kids. All thirty of them. I miss praying with them at night and getting hugs before going to sleep. I miss being there to see what's going on with them each day.
But, I know that I will go back. And between now and then, I'll have plenty of hot showers! :)
So, that's what's up with me right now. I have plenty to tell you all about El Salvador and the wonderful kids there. For now, I'll leave you with this video. The song is the Spanish version of Hillsong United's "Take it All." It is really popular with the kids, and it is proof that a life in Christ can, in fact, rock. ;)
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. ;)
Friday, August 01, 2008
A long time coming!
I hate to write a blog that starts off, "I'm sorry that I haven't written in so long." But that's just what I'm writing.
I've been really busy lately, and my access to the internet has been pretty limited. It's limited because I've been living at an orphanage in El Salvador. My days are pretty full, playing with and talking to kids, so even if there was a decent internet connection, I'm not sure that I'd have much time to write. I won't be here forever (though I wouldn't entirely object to that), so I will be writing again.
And I'll have plenty to write about. From just today, I can write about the village of Panchimalco, a colonial church from the 1500s, holy water, Puerta del Diablo, a trip to the jungle, conversations with our taxi driver, and how great it is to get hugs and kisses from lots of kids every day.
So, my days here are pretty full. But also really blessed. Perhaps I won't go home after all! ;)
Love,
Sara
Oh, and by the way, I might have accidentally become Catholic today. But I'll have to check with the Catechism to see if what happened constitutes a real conversion. You know, since Vatican II, just about anything is possible! ;)
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! ;)
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Today
Today is Mother's Day. So, I'd like to take this opportunity to say "Happy Mother's Day" to my mom.
Thank you for being my mom and for putting up with me for this long. Thank you for all your prayers, for never bothering me about being religious but for, instead, trusting in God that someday I would understand. Thank you for not insisting that I choose a practical major in college. Thank you for being there when I need to talk.
All of those things are amazing. But I refuse to thank you for always copying me. So, no thank you for getting matching purses, sunglasses, lipstick colors, jeans, and shoes with me. Seriously, lady, I know I'm fashionable, but we've got to stop dressing alike. :)
But, anyways, happy Mother's Day. I love you.
Love,
Sara Anna
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
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