Fears and Almost Tears

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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

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...

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...

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

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...

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! ;)

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!

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

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