I used to think that writing was safe. I used to think writing was safe because I've always done it. I mean that literally. when I was in the fourth grade, I created a newspaper for my family. I was the sole researcher, reporter, designer, and editor. it was my baby. I wrote nonsense stories about what my older brother did with his summer and gave a detailed anaylsis of my little sister's sleepovers and shamelessly advertised myself for a friendly game of basketball in the driveway. I've always liked to write.
but now that I'm older, now that I realize how much power each fragile thought I have holds, I no longer think of writing as a safe thing. it is scary and wonderful. scary because it makes me face the darkest corners of myself and display them for everyone who takes the five minutes to read my blog. wonderful because it makes my life make more sense. for me, there is freedom in writing, because it releases me from all my pent up thoughts, from the me that I try so desperately to hide. there is something about the danger of exposing myself to people that attracts me to writing. I realize that may sound masochistic, but that isn't it at all. I was thinking earlier about how much I love driving on interstate flyovers. my mom hates them; she doesn't much care for heights. but I love them. when I drive on them, I feel like I'm not just driving an ordinary car over an ordinary road, but instead I'm driving a rather extraordinary car right into the sky; I'm flying. I also love heights. fear of heights is, I'm sure, one of the most common fears of the general public. but I downright love them. I love being high up and looking down at all the tiny things and then looking up and seeing miles and miles of space. it makes me feel small and insignificant, and yet an important part of something huge and beautiful. there's something about the little bit of danger that you feel when you aren't standing on solid ground, ground you can't by any chance fall from. it feels reckless and unsafe, and like the most natural thing in the world - like that's how we should be living. and it is. because the only way to rely on God is to realize how very, very close you are to the edge of the precipice, how very, very easily you could fall right down into the abyss. because when you realize this, you realize that you have absolutely no control over what happens to you and the other people around you. and when you have no control, what can you do but turn to the One who does? all this talk might make it sound like I've got the right idea, like I'm living just the way I should, with just the right amount of danger and recklessness. I'm not. I wish I could say that I liked danger and recklessness, but it isn't true. I like being safe. I like knowing what is going to happen. I like being in control. this sounds completely contradictory to what I said earlier, but that is where the complexity of my brain comes in. I love being dangerous when I write and when I drive on flyovers, but I don't like being dangerous in my life. I am, in fact, incredibly bad at being dangerous. I wish it wasn't so, but it is. I was talking to my best friend on the phone earlier after going entirely too long (something like four or five days) without talking to her and we talked about all sorts of things, among them being control. she uttered one word. one word that changes everything. that reminds me my life is hardly mine. that forces me to live a dangerous life.
surrender.
me and surrender don't get along very well. I think surrender is a beautiful thing. I'm quite in love with the idea of it. but I just can't seem to make myself commit. I tell myself after a long day in which I've fought with myself, wrestled with ideas, come to the conclusion that I am a despicable human being who can't think a right thought, that I am ready to surrender. that I will henceforth no longer put up a fight. but it never works. it lasts maybe an hour in sarah brain and then gets thrown out the window, along with every other trick and method I've tried to quiet my mind down. but it's the only thing that will work. it takes time, it takes a conscious choice and effort every day to put down my weapons and my need to control things and let go. surrender. it may never get easier; it may be just as hard each day to surrender as it was the day before. but even if that's the case, it will be well worth it. I will get to live each day more freely, more purposefully, more dangerously. and it will be beautiful. so, today's to do list? surrender.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Sunday, December 26, 2010
scatterbrained
this will probably be one of the most haphazardly organized posts ever. but I don't care. that's right, reader, I don't care if you find this difficult, obnoxious, or pointless. because it is not for you. it is for me, as all my writings are. and this is how my brain works all the time. so I guess this is your official welcome to true sarah territory. the territory that I try to hide most of the time. the territory that has the power to inspire me, eat away at me, scare everyone else away, and give me the ability to read everyone I know really, really well. it is a skill I must say I am rather fond of. but it comes at a price.
when I said this post was going to be "one of the most haphazardly organized posts ever" what I really meant was that it was not going to be organized at all.
I wrote once before that I have the tendency to sometimes fall in love with certain words. tonight they are on my mind, so here is a list of all the words I can think of that I l-o-v-e:
life. love. grace. peace. vibrant. happenstance. write. adventure. redeemed. run. sunshine. world. beauty. soul. rain. laughter. human. community. aesthetic. art. compassion. bright. daddy. think. essentially. prismatic. frail. color. vintage. serendipity. aunthenticity.
in no particular order. I suppose some of them make sense, as I obviously like the idea and the word is simply the physical manifestation of the idea. but some are just words that I like the sound of. some are both.
we were driving home from dinner with some new friends earlier and I was watching the world go by through my window and I was thinking how beautiful it all was. the entire city of austin is downright gorgeous: all the huge rolling hills, every tree, the sea of twinkling lights that lets off this subdued sort of glow from the city, the many swirling colors that make up that huge expanse of texas sky - seriously, every single day has been made up of different colors. and it isn't just the scenery that is beautiful; my whole life is beautiful. it is full of chaos and confusion, a lot of joy and some sorrow, change, beautiful people, laughter, love. and then it hits me. this thing that I have been watching draw ever closer to me, this thing that has been staring me in the eye for quite some time now, smacks me right in the face. not once have I given thanks for it all. I have thought about it and talked about it and written about it and yet, I haven't thanked the loving, gracious God who has given it all to me. I am undeserving of it all.
do you have songs that, when you hear them, just make you feel like you? I do; there are certain songs or artists that I listen to that remind me who I am when I listen to them. it's sort of a hard concept to describe if you've never felt that way, so I'm not going to try really. I don't know what it is about them - maybe the style, maybe the lyrics, maybe the way they make me feel when I listen to them. that's how I write - I listen to songs that make me feel like me and usually drink a cup of coffee or hot chocolate out of my favorite mug (which I am greatly missing tonight. perhaps that's why I'm lacking cohesion. probably not.) I don't know why, but I also always write late at night. I can't write during the day. which is why I could never make a career out of writing, along with my fear that I will one day run out of things to write. I think I write at night because it is the only time I think about things that are actually relevant. most of the time during the day I think about stupid things like what I'm going to eat or who I want to talk to or which boy I should like. late at night I am able to take my blinders off and see the big picture of the world, the deeper streams of life. as much as writing makes my life make more sense, it is taking a toll on my sleep schedule. I suppose that is the price this silly writer must pay.
feeling crazy yet? worrying about my mental health? don't, this was only a small sampling. in any case, I am done for the evening. er, early morning? anyways, I shall leave you, dear reader, with some lines from two songs that make me feel like me.
"Could I have been anyone other than me? Then I look up at the sky; my mouth is open wide, lick and taste. What's the use in worrying? What's the use in hurrying? Turn, turn, we almost become dizzy." - Dave Matthews, Dancing Nancies
"How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes. I struggle to find any truth in your lies. And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know. My weakness I feel I must finally show... In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die; and where you invest your love, you invest your life... Awake my soul." - Mumford & Sons, Awake My Soul
when I said this post was going to be "one of the most haphazardly organized posts ever" what I really meant was that it was not going to be organized at all.
I wrote once before that I have the tendency to sometimes fall in love with certain words. tonight they are on my mind, so here is a list of all the words I can think of that I l-o-v-e:
life. love. grace. peace. vibrant. happenstance. write. adventure. redeemed. run. sunshine. world. beauty. soul. rain. laughter. human. community. aesthetic. art. compassion. bright. daddy. think. essentially. prismatic. frail. color. vintage. serendipity. aunthenticity.
in no particular order. I suppose some of them make sense, as I obviously like the idea and the word is simply the physical manifestation of the idea. but some are just words that I like the sound of. some are both.
we were driving home from dinner with some new friends earlier and I was watching the world go by through my window and I was thinking how beautiful it all was. the entire city of austin is downright gorgeous: all the huge rolling hills, every tree, the sea of twinkling lights that lets off this subdued sort of glow from the city, the many swirling colors that make up that huge expanse of texas sky - seriously, every single day has been made up of different colors. and it isn't just the scenery that is beautiful; my whole life is beautiful. it is full of chaos and confusion, a lot of joy and some sorrow, change, beautiful people, laughter, love. and then it hits me. this thing that I have been watching draw ever closer to me, this thing that has been staring me in the eye for quite some time now, smacks me right in the face. not once have I given thanks for it all. I have thought about it and talked about it and written about it and yet, I haven't thanked the loving, gracious God who has given it all to me. I am undeserving of it all.
do you have songs that, when you hear them, just make you feel like you? I do; there are certain songs or artists that I listen to that remind me who I am when I listen to them. it's sort of a hard concept to describe if you've never felt that way, so I'm not going to try really. I don't know what it is about them - maybe the style, maybe the lyrics, maybe the way they make me feel when I listen to them. that's how I write - I listen to songs that make me feel like me and usually drink a cup of coffee or hot chocolate out of my favorite mug (which I am greatly missing tonight. perhaps that's why I'm lacking cohesion. probably not.) I don't know why, but I also always write late at night. I can't write during the day. which is why I could never make a career out of writing, along with my fear that I will one day run out of things to write. I think I write at night because it is the only time I think about things that are actually relevant. most of the time during the day I think about stupid things like what I'm going to eat or who I want to talk to or which boy I should like. late at night I am able to take my blinders off and see the big picture of the world, the deeper streams of life. as much as writing makes my life make more sense, it is taking a toll on my sleep schedule. I suppose that is the price this silly writer must pay.
feeling crazy yet? worrying about my mental health? don't, this was only a small sampling. in any case, I am done for the evening. er, early morning? anyways, I shall leave you, dear reader, with some lines from two songs that make me feel like me.
"Could I have been anyone other than me? Then I look up at the sky; my mouth is open wide, lick and taste. What's the use in worrying? What's the use in hurrying? Turn, turn, we almost become dizzy." - Dave Matthews, Dancing Nancies
"How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes. I struggle to find any truth in your lies. And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know. My weakness I feel I must finally show... In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die; and where you invest your love, you invest your life... Awake my soul." - Mumford & Sons, Awake My Soul
Friday, December 24, 2010
for grandma
there are a few things in life that we know will always be there. there will always be love, youth, faith. there will always be pain, suffering, death. nothing in this world is ever perfect. it may be beautiful, but is not perfect. my grandmother on my dad's side of the family passed away unexpectedly yesterday morning. no one saw it coming, no one really got to say goodbye. I know she is finally complete, finally without pain, finally enjoying the presence of God. that doesn't mean I am capable of imagining holiday dinners without her, or seeing my grandpa living alone in their house. I wish I had known her better. while I only saw her once or twice a year, I learned a lot from her. she was one of the strongest, most loving women I've ever met.
in 2004, grandma lectia was diagnosed with breast cancer. she fought her battle valiantly, never complained, never saw the darkness in the cancer. it hadn't been long before that that she gave her life to Christ. I remember writing her a letter about Jesus one time. I don't remember how old I was, but I remember writing it. her faith in Him was inspiring. despite the hardships she faced with her cancer and the frustrations of the family, she never wavered. after many chemo treatments and other pains, she finally went into remission and her breast cancer was cured.
all throughout her life, grandma always took care of everyone. she made everyone's beds in the mornings and turned them down before bedtime every night. she made breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day and cleaned the kitchen by herself. every time we went to visit, we would get in somewhere around 3 a.m. and she would always get out of bed (if she hadn't waited up) to greet us and promptly shove leftovers in our faces. we would always get these huge plates of food and she would sit with us and talk while we ate. "Sarah," (or surruh, as she pronounced it) she would always say, "you need to get a little bit more meat on them bones!" and then she would put a piece of cake or whatever had been for dessert on my plate. she was the one who brought the family together. she disspelled the tension that would inevitably come when all five siblings and the unnumerable grandchildren were present. she put up with grandpa and his crankiness. she held everything and everyone together. she went to church by herself almost every sunday, but she always went. and she loved everyone despite their many, many faults.
you will be missed. but I know you are where you've always longed to be, where your heart is most satisfied. I love you, grandma.
in 2004, grandma lectia was diagnosed with breast cancer. she fought her battle valiantly, never complained, never saw the darkness in the cancer. it hadn't been long before that that she gave her life to Christ. I remember writing her a letter about Jesus one time. I don't remember how old I was, but I remember writing it. her faith in Him was inspiring. despite the hardships she faced with her cancer and the frustrations of the family, she never wavered. after many chemo treatments and other pains, she finally went into remission and her breast cancer was cured.
all throughout her life, grandma always took care of everyone. she made everyone's beds in the mornings and turned them down before bedtime every night. she made breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day and cleaned the kitchen by herself. every time we went to visit, we would get in somewhere around 3 a.m. and she would always get out of bed (if she hadn't waited up) to greet us and promptly shove leftovers in our faces. we would always get these huge plates of food and she would sit with us and talk while we ate. "Sarah," (or surruh, as she pronounced it) she would always say, "you need to get a little bit more meat on them bones!" and then she would put a piece of cake or whatever had been for dessert on my plate. she was the one who brought the family together. she disspelled the tension that would inevitably come when all five siblings and the unnumerable grandchildren were present. she put up with grandpa and his crankiness. she held everything and everyone together. she went to church by herself almost every sunday, but she always went. and she loved everyone despite their many, many faults.
you will be missed. but I know you are where you've always longed to be, where your heart is most satisfied. I love you, grandma.
what's my age again?
"If growing up means it would be beneath my dignity to climb a tree, I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up! Not me!" -J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan
"Too many people grow up. That's the trouble with the world, too many people grow up." - Walt Disney
"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing." - Helen Keller
"Change of any sort requires courage." - Mary Anne Radmacher
lately I've been thinking a lot about life from a child's perspective. the way they see it, the way they live it. and honestly, I think that they get things much better than we do. they understand so much more about it. or maybe it's the fact that they don't get it at all. they just live. they don't let goals and assumptions and prejudices get in the way. they love, they laugh, they imagine. they live in a magical world where cars are really spaceships, mom and dad are superheroes, love simply means the biggest hug you can muster, and all of life is an adventure. perhaps this is a glorified version of childhood, but nonetheless, it is a beautiful thing. sure, we all have to marry and have children of our own and a career and get old. but that doesn't mean we have to grow up. I, for one, would love to spend the rest of my life enjoying each day as it comes, seeing the hero in everyone I know, fostering my imagination, giving really, really big hugs. I like to dance in my living room and talk to the dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets I throw in the oven when I'm hungry; I like to show my excitement and talk animatedly with everyone I come in contact with; I like to see life as one big story where I get to be the heroine and Jesus is my hero. I wish I could say I felt this way all the time, but who can ever say that? sometimes I feel like scowling at my family and walking through each day in my mundane routine, just because it is safe and I know what to expect. but those days are no fun. and it's time to spice things up a bit. "Change of any sort requires courage" (Mary Anne Rudmacher). God grant me the courage to live every day like a kid would.
"Too many people grow up. That's the trouble with the world, too many people grow up." - Walt Disney
"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing." - Helen Keller
"Change of any sort requires courage." - Mary Anne Radmacher
lately I've been thinking a lot about life from a child's perspective. the way they see it, the way they live it. and honestly, I think that they get things much better than we do. they understand so much more about it. or maybe it's the fact that they don't get it at all. they just live. they don't let goals and assumptions and prejudices get in the way. they love, they laugh, they imagine. they live in a magical world where cars are really spaceships, mom and dad are superheroes, love simply means the biggest hug you can muster, and all of life is an adventure. perhaps this is a glorified version of childhood, but nonetheless, it is a beautiful thing. sure, we all have to marry and have children of our own and a career and get old. but that doesn't mean we have to grow up. I, for one, would love to spend the rest of my life enjoying each day as it comes, seeing the hero in everyone I know, fostering my imagination, giving really, really big hugs. I like to dance in my living room and talk to the dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets I throw in the oven when I'm hungry; I like to show my excitement and talk animatedly with everyone I come in contact with; I like to see life as one big story where I get to be the heroine and Jesus is my hero. I wish I could say I felt this way all the time, but who can ever say that? sometimes I feel like scowling at my family and walking through each day in my mundane routine, just because it is safe and I know what to expect. but those days are no fun. and it's time to spice things up a bit. "Change of any sort requires courage" (Mary Anne Rudmacher). God grant me the courage to live every day like a kid would.
how to be uncool
they say all good things must come to an end. I have yet to decide just how good it was, but my first semester of college has come to it's end. there were good days and bad, lessons learned, mistakes made, new experiences, old feelings, and, of course, entirely too much fast food. and while it may be cliche, I feel like a good way to give myself some closure is to write a post about all the things - some silly, some serious - that I've learned over the course of the last five months. besides, I love cliche. cliche and I understand each other quite well. so, well, without being TOO awkward, here it is...? :
1. take one day at a time. don't plan ahead. things work out so much better than you can even imagine when you don't try to control them yourself.
2. I am not cool. this is probably most of the reason that people like me.
3. life is much too short to not act like a 5 year old for at least a few minutes every day. seriously, go run around your house acting like a spy, laugh altogether too loudly, play a prank, make a silly face at someone, drink chocolate milk. children understand the world so much better than all of us who have lived here for so much longer.
4. don't feel guilty about things you've done. don't justify them, don't say they are no big deal, but don't beat yourself up over them. as a wise woman once told me, "that's life. you'll fall down again, but you'll always get back up. it's not over just because you did something stupid."
5. ENJOY. enjoy enjoy enjoy. life is beautiful. pay attention to the little things going on. breathe deeply when the air is crisp and cool. walk slowly. notice the sun late in the afternoon when it casts that beautiful, warm gold on everything in the world. see the good and the beauty in people, look past their clothes and the way they walk - see their stories, they're often hidden in their eyes.
6. no matter how many times I ignore Him, God is always there. I can't say that He always comes back to me, because He never leaves me. if He were a man He would have given up on me long ago, chalked it up to the fact that I am a flighty, silly, half-hearted girl. instead He's loved me and protected me, given me peace and hope and taught me all sorts of things.
7. back to acting like a child, but the more serious side of things: love deeply and without hindrance. see not the potential for pain and disappointment, but instead the beauty of love and it's origin. look at the world with wide eyes, see the adventures in your everyday life. it's not a walk to class - it's rushing into the heat of battle, it's a race to deliver an important message, or receive one. it's not sleep - it's a journey into that magical land of dreams. it isn't studying for an exam - it's taking a step back from the whole entire world and then looking at one tiny piece with a magnifying glass. look for the good in everything and everyone. it is always there. play, dance, laugh - it takes the mundane out of the day.
8. coffee rocks my world.
9. sisterhood is a beautiful thing. sisters get you through everything. they give you advice and hugs and go with you to get food when you're hungry. they stay up all night studying with you and then laugh with you the next day when you're delusional from your lack of sleep. they listen to all your stupid stories, make you sane again, and tell you you're pretty when you don't feel like it. after this semester, I am incredibly thankful for all the sisters in my life - for my blood sister, for my best friend, and for my alpha delta pi sisters. you are all beautiful.
I'll end at nine, because if I were to make it ten it would be even MORE cliche.
1. take one day at a time. don't plan ahead. things work out so much better than you can even imagine when you don't try to control them yourself.
2. I am not cool. this is probably most of the reason that people like me.
3. life is much too short to not act like a 5 year old for at least a few minutes every day. seriously, go run around your house acting like a spy, laugh altogether too loudly, play a prank, make a silly face at someone, drink chocolate milk. children understand the world so much better than all of us who have lived here for so much longer.
4. don't feel guilty about things you've done. don't justify them, don't say they are no big deal, but don't beat yourself up over them. as a wise woman once told me, "that's life. you'll fall down again, but you'll always get back up. it's not over just because you did something stupid."
5. ENJOY. enjoy enjoy enjoy. life is beautiful. pay attention to the little things going on. breathe deeply when the air is crisp and cool. walk slowly. notice the sun late in the afternoon when it casts that beautiful, warm gold on everything in the world. see the good and the beauty in people, look past their clothes and the way they walk - see their stories, they're often hidden in their eyes.
6. no matter how many times I ignore Him, God is always there. I can't say that He always comes back to me, because He never leaves me. if He were a man He would have given up on me long ago, chalked it up to the fact that I am a flighty, silly, half-hearted girl. instead He's loved me and protected me, given me peace and hope and taught me all sorts of things.
7. back to acting like a child, but the more serious side of things: love deeply and without hindrance. see not the potential for pain and disappointment, but instead the beauty of love and it's origin. look at the world with wide eyes, see the adventures in your everyday life. it's not a walk to class - it's rushing into the heat of battle, it's a race to deliver an important message, or receive one. it's not sleep - it's a journey into that magical land of dreams. it isn't studying for an exam - it's taking a step back from the whole entire world and then looking at one tiny piece with a magnifying glass. look for the good in everything and everyone. it is always there. play, dance, laugh - it takes the mundane out of the day.
8. coffee rocks my world.
9. sisterhood is a beautiful thing. sisters get you through everything. they give you advice and hugs and go with you to get food when you're hungry. they stay up all night studying with you and then laugh with you the next day when you're delusional from your lack of sleep. they listen to all your stupid stories, make you sane again, and tell you you're pretty when you don't feel like it. after this semester, I am incredibly thankful for all the sisters in my life - for my blood sister, for my best friend, and for my alpha delta pi sisters. you are all beautiful.
I'll end at nine, because if I were to make it ten it would be even MORE cliche.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
life.
life. ah, that word: life. so, I'm one of those crazy people who happens to fall in love with certain words and phrases sometimes. there are just some words that, when I read or hear them, stir up this feeling in me. it's like a strange combination of excitement and hope and expectation and like there is so much more to the world than the mundane things we see and do and think every day. and life is one of these words. there are so many facets of life and details and intangible things that we can't see but we know exist in life; it makes it hard not to notice how beautiful it all is. at the same time though, there is so much pain and hurt and hate and disappointment. but I feel like these things only serve to deepen life. we're caught up in the midst of them while they're happening to us, but the moment we get the chance to zoom out and see the big picture, we understand it all. that's the way I feel at least, and it's a beautiful feeling sometimes.
but it's so easy to get caught up in the daily things - the things that drain our energy and make us waste our emotions. and we forget to enjoy life. more importantly, we forget to enjoy God. I got this facebook message from this rad sista that I sometimes refer to as my best friend about enjoying God more. this is what she said (here's your big spotlight, lc!): "You know what I just realized that I've been missing? I've completely lost the thrill of the love of God, the excitement... I've been so concerned with trusting Him and loving Him and focusing on Him that I forgot to enjoy Him. All of the aforementioned are important and necessary, but the Christian life is not supposed to be like fighting to walk through a hurricane. We're supposed to dance in the rain. Though we get off balance and fall or slip on a slick bit of pavement, we still get back up and begin to dance again." beautifully put, my dear. and so true. I have really lost my joy in Christ's presence because I have been so concerned with trying to live my life every day and fit Him in there as much as possible. I was pushing Him into my life as often as I remembered. and forgetting that He is with me at all times, giving me strength and peace and sending me little love notes. I've forgotten that I'm fiercely loved and enjoyed by Him and that He wants me to enjoy Him also. it's hard in the midst of a day's worries, but it's worth it. I've been reminded of Christ's love for me by several different things today, and each time I've been filled with joy. and not that flighty, sillly kind of joy that only stays for a moment, but that deep kind of joy that makes you want to dance around and sing and smile at everyone you walk by. it's like a peace kind of joy. it rocks. today I am thankful for friends far and near, for surprises and cold weather, and for the ability to outwardly express happiness. who knows what would happen to me if I couldn't. I just might burst or something.
but it's so easy to get caught up in the daily things - the things that drain our energy and make us waste our emotions. and we forget to enjoy life. more importantly, we forget to enjoy God. I got this facebook message from this rad sista that I sometimes refer to as my best friend about enjoying God more. this is what she said (here's your big spotlight, lc!): "You know what I just realized that I've been missing? I've completely lost the thrill of the love of God, the excitement... I've been so concerned with trusting Him and loving Him and focusing on Him that I forgot to enjoy Him. All of the aforementioned are important and necessary, but the Christian life is not supposed to be like fighting to walk through a hurricane. We're supposed to dance in the rain. Though we get off balance and fall or slip on a slick bit of pavement, we still get back up and begin to dance again." beautifully put, my dear. and so true. I have really lost my joy in Christ's presence because I have been so concerned with trying to live my life every day and fit Him in there as much as possible. I was pushing Him into my life as often as I remembered. and forgetting that He is with me at all times, giving me strength and peace and sending me little love notes. I've forgotten that I'm fiercely loved and enjoyed by Him and that He wants me to enjoy Him also. it's hard in the midst of a day's worries, but it's worth it. I've been reminded of Christ's love for me by several different things today, and each time I've been filled with joy. and not that flighty, sillly kind of joy that only stays for a moment, but that deep kind of joy that makes you want to dance around and sing and smile at everyone you walk by. it's like a peace kind of joy. it rocks. today I am thankful for friends far and near, for surprises and cold weather, and for the ability to outwardly express happiness. who knows what would happen to me if I couldn't. I just might burst or something.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
good Lovin'
it's crazy the way human beings crave attention. we crave all sorts of attention in all sorts of ways. some call it "not conforming" or just "being different," I call it craving attention. some call it "just wanting a boyfriend or someone to dance with," I call it craving attention. some call it "wanting to succeed" or wanting to "exceed people's expectations," I call it craving attention.
and it is. it is craving attention. we all just want someone to see what we are doing, to acknowledge our existence, our lives. for some, it is the sole motivation for all the things that they do - working, writing, dancing, dating, performing, anything. sometimes I just feel like the only reason I'm living the way I am is so people notice it. why do I care what I wear? who I hang out with? what sorority I'm in? what image people have of me? because I want attention and I want people to think of me a certain way.
and I get depressed when I haven't been noticed. I feel like this is especially true when it comes to guys. I cry out for male attention above all else, just like the entirety of the female population.
yet. that single solitary word that lets me know there is more to the situation. there is another side. yet, I hardly ever recognize the Love that is right there with me, every movement I make, every thought I think, every emotion I feel. and it's this crazy, fierce, indelible, indescribable, expressive, wild-about-you Love. this Love that will never, ever leave me or forsake me. this Love that so beautifully died a horribly painful death that I might live and breathe and believe and love as well. this Love that envelops me and protects me, and at the same time exposes me to this world so that I may spread it to the ones that haven't experienced it yet. this Love expresses and reveals itself to me constantly in so many ways, and I ignore it. I relegate it to a secondary position in my life. secondary to the human love that I crave so badly.
why is this? I mean, I could spout off something about the human condition, but I don't think that really addresses the root issue. of course we're human and so we do stupid things and don't recognize what we ought, but I think we crave attention the way we do because of our unbelief. we don't really believe (though we might say we do) that God is right there with us, loving us and giving us attention and expressing Himself in all kinds of different, beautiful ways. we don't believe it because we know we don't deserve it. we know we haven't done a single thing to earn it and there isn't a single thing in the world that we could do to earn it. some of us are aware of this, aware of the grace that is so apparent in creation. but so, so many aren't. and even those who are aware rarely live, and I mean truly live, like they are aware of it. it is a tragic story, a dull life. I am one of these, these "half-hearted creatures" as C.S. Lewis calls us, that has been shown the grace and mercy and beautiful Love of God and yet lives each day like it doesn't exist. if I know of all these things and yet live just like those who do not know of these things, how will others ever be introduced to them? it should be my duty and my joy to display the love and grace and mercy and glory of the beautiful God that I serve.
and it is. it is craving attention. we all just want someone to see what we are doing, to acknowledge our existence, our lives. for some, it is the sole motivation for all the things that they do - working, writing, dancing, dating, performing, anything. sometimes I just feel like the only reason I'm living the way I am is so people notice it. why do I care what I wear? who I hang out with? what sorority I'm in? what image people have of me? because I want attention and I want people to think of me a certain way.
and I get depressed when I haven't been noticed. I feel like this is especially true when it comes to guys. I cry out for male attention above all else, just like the entirety of the female population.
yet. that single solitary word that lets me know there is more to the situation. there is another side. yet, I hardly ever recognize the Love that is right there with me, every movement I make, every thought I think, every emotion I feel. and it's this crazy, fierce, indelible, indescribable, expressive, wild-about-you Love. this Love that will never, ever leave me or forsake me. this Love that so beautifully died a horribly painful death that I might live and breathe and believe and love as well. this Love that envelops me and protects me, and at the same time exposes me to this world so that I may spread it to the ones that haven't experienced it yet. this Love expresses and reveals itself to me constantly in so many ways, and I ignore it. I relegate it to a secondary position in my life. secondary to the human love that I crave so badly.
why is this? I mean, I could spout off something about the human condition, but I don't think that really addresses the root issue. of course we're human and so we do stupid things and don't recognize what we ought, but I think we crave attention the way we do because of our unbelief. we don't really believe (though we might say we do) that God is right there with us, loving us and giving us attention and expressing Himself in all kinds of different, beautiful ways. we don't believe it because we know we don't deserve it. we know we haven't done a single thing to earn it and there isn't a single thing in the world that we could do to earn it. some of us are aware of this, aware of the grace that is so apparent in creation. but so, so many aren't. and even those who are aware rarely live, and I mean truly live, like they are aware of it. it is a tragic story, a dull life. I am one of these, these "half-hearted creatures" as C.S. Lewis calls us, that has been shown the grace and mercy and beautiful Love of God and yet lives each day like it doesn't exist. if I know of all these things and yet live just like those who do not know of these things, how will others ever be introduced to them? it should be my duty and my joy to display the love and grace and mercy and glory of the beautiful God that I serve.
Friday, November 5, 2010
the movie life
in the best kinds of movies, there is no narrator. there is no one to tell the audience the characters' pasts or thoughts or beliefs. the audience must simply figure it out by watching how a particular character conducts himself or by listening to what he says. and the actor must know and understand everything about his character so that the audience can see his personal story. I wish that we could all live in such a way that anyone could see our stories just by how we are and what we do. I wish we weren't afraid of showing people the real us. I wish we weren't afraid of getting hurt. I wish we didn't only feel safe revealing our true identities in art and music and writing. I wish all these things, but I am guilty of them as well. I write all these things that I think and feel and know, but I don't let everyone I come in contact with see the whole picture. few are allowed the privilege of seeing all of me - my hopes and dreams and beliefs and my thoughts in their rawest forms. this is a shame. not because the world needs my hopes and dreams and beliefs and raw thoughts, but because the world needs sincerity and authenticity. the world also needs love. the love of Christ, specifically. and how can we show the world the love of Christ if we're too busy hiding behind our prefabricated identities? instead we should be displaying for everyone who we really are - the good and the bad - in order to display God's glory and grace. I am guilty as charged, and pledging to start trying to live more authentically. we'll see how it goes...
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
rain.
it's raining today. rain makes me want to do a lot of things. it makes me want to sit in my room with a big sweatshirt and fuzzy socks on and listen to chill, acoustic music and write (which is what I'm doing). it makes me want to paint. it makes me want to wrap a big blanket around myself and watch a sweet movie. it makes me want to nap.
life is so weird sometimes, the way that it happens. one thing happens in order for something else to happen. you meet one person in order to meet someone else. I do a lot of life thinking and planning. but not in the way that you might think - you know, like the big events and decisions. no, instead I think and plan the silly little moments that make up a day, thinking that there will someday be one little moment that will change everything in life. John Lennon once said that "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans." I'm guilty of missing out on life because I spend all my time thinking about what I want to happen. most of my plans don't even come to fruition anyway. and I know this. and yet I continue to live like this. if you can even call it living.
today, it stops. or starts to stop. it will be a slow, continuous process, learning how to exist without constant planning. but I will learn; I will live more fully. there's this book that is teaching me all these things. it's called 'Cold Tangerines' by Shauna Niequist. it is about celebrating life - celebrating all the little moments that we do not plan, that culminate into a life well-lived. thus far it is a fabulous little book. I'm sure there will be many more life lessons to be learned from it and I can't wait.
life is so weird sometimes, the way that it happens. one thing happens in order for something else to happen. you meet one person in order to meet someone else. I do a lot of life thinking and planning. but not in the way that you might think - you know, like the big events and decisions. no, instead I think and plan the silly little moments that make up a day, thinking that there will someday be one little moment that will change everything in life. John Lennon once said that "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans." I'm guilty of missing out on life because I spend all my time thinking about what I want to happen. most of my plans don't even come to fruition anyway. and I know this. and yet I continue to live like this. if you can even call it living.
today, it stops. or starts to stop. it will be a slow, continuous process, learning how to exist without constant planning. but I will learn; I will live more fully. there's this book that is teaching me all these things. it's called 'Cold Tangerines' by Shauna Niequist. it is about celebrating life - celebrating all the little moments that we do not plan, that culminate into a life well-lived. thus far it is a fabulous little book. I'm sure there will be many more life lessons to be learned from it and I can't wait.
will the real me please stand up?
oh hey there, mr. blog. I know, I know, it's been awhile. I'm quite sorry I haven't posted in basically forever (at least it feels that way), but, you see, I got a bit embarrassed of you for a time. the world doesn't really need another blogger and I felt a little too narcissistic for writing a blog, as if I felt that the whole world needed to know what I, sarah, was thinking; I am sarah, read my stuff! but as I was thinking earlier about my feelings (which I do altogether too often), I remembered the reason I started writing this blog in the first place: me. I am the reason I started writing it. I wanted a place to empty my raw thoughts into sentences, ideas. just as talking makes me feel better about everything, blogging helps me clear my mind by forcing me to organize it.
now that I'm done with my excuse, I would like to begin by saying that the way I feel now can be simply summed up by my very last post, though it was written just shy of four months ago. four. whole. months. that is crazy business. to explain myself yet again, school just started two months ago, and that has been a whole new beast. and by school I mean my first year of college. I am, in fact, a freshman. a freshman who has only very recently started running again (I was a delinquent runner for much too long), who has not gained the freshman fifteen, who has joined the best darn sorority in the world, who moved into the sorority house and is downright loving it, and, who has lost a bit of herself again. I know what you're thinking. you're thinking, "geez, how often does this happen???" but rest assured, I found myself rather quickly after that last post and have been fine since. until a few days ago when I realized it had happened again. but this time, it is my fault. completely and totally my fault. it turns out, I really like being liked and known. I believe this is a disease that has affected the vast majority of the population (a bit of an epidemic, if you will), but I have taken it too far this time. it seems I have lost myself in trying to make people know me. I have forgotten that there are parts of me that are secrets and parts of me that people should discover on their own. people who have just met me do not need to know right off the bat that I am an english major and therefore love reading and writing and feeling artsy. or that I just LOVE to run and am therefore athletic and fit. or that I will do anything for a laugh and am therefore ridiculously hilarious (I have done a lot of dumb and/or silly things to make people laugh. this by no means makes me funny). it's like I have this view that I think people should have of me - that's right, I made sarah up all by myself this time - and I feel that people just need to know all about me. like they want to or something. which is crazy business. the world does not need to know who I am. who I am is irrelevant because I am living for Someone much greater and cooler and smarter and better than me. who I am only counts if others can see Christ in me. if I am living the life that He has willed for me and being the person that He has willed me to be. I have not been fulfilling these things, and so I must apologize. so here it is: dear world, who cares who sarah is? she is empty if not for Christ. she is only a facade, a colorful wall with no substance behind it. and everyone knows that when you have too many colors on a canvas, you get brown. boring, lame, brown. that's what you get when you let an unskilled artist try to paint a masterpiece. what you need is the only true, great Artist to commission the masterpiece. I have not let this Artist paint the canvas of my life recently and it is obvious. So, world (and Christ), I am sorry that I tried to put the brush in my own hands, trusting this fragile life to an even more fragile soul.
getting back on track is the hardest part. it always has been for me. it's like I start to push forward a bit, but I only get a few feet before my momentum shuts off and I'm pulled right back into the rut. but I suppose recognizing it is the first step and I've got to just keep fighting. don't worry world, 'tis only for a time. the cooler, realer, livin'-it-up sarah shall be back. sooner or later I'm going to have to start living outside of myself again. sooner or later I'll be shoved toward a higher cause by that great, loving, Force-to-be-reckoned-with. and I'll have no choice but to move on, to see outside myself. until then...
now that I'm done with my excuse, I would like to begin by saying that the way I feel now can be simply summed up by my very last post, though it was written just shy of four months ago. four. whole. months. that is crazy business. to explain myself yet again, school just started two months ago, and that has been a whole new beast. and by school I mean my first year of college. I am, in fact, a freshman. a freshman who has only very recently started running again (I was a delinquent runner for much too long), who has not gained the freshman fifteen, who has joined the best darn sorority in the world, who moved into the sorority house and is downright loving it, and, who has lost a bit of herself again. I know what you're thinking. you're thinking, "geez, how often does this happen???" but rest assured, I found myself rather quickly after that last post and have been fine since. until a few days ago when I realized it had happened again. but this time, it is my fault. completely and totally my fault. it turns out, I really like being liked and known. I believe this is a disease that has affected the vast majority of the population (a bit of an epidemic, if you will), but I have taken it too far this time. it seems I have lost myself in trying to make people know me. I have forgotten that there are parts of me that are secrets and parts of me that people should discover on their own. people who have just met me do not need to know right off the bat that I am an english major and therefore love reading and writing and feeling artsy. or that I just LOVE to run and am therefore athletic and fit. or that I will do anything for a laugh and am therefore ridiculously hilarious (I have done a lot of dumb and/or silly things to make people laugh. this by no means makes me funny). it's like I have this view that I think people should have of me - that's right, I made sarah up all by myself this time - and I feel that people just need to know all about me. like they want to or something. which is crazy business. the world does not need to know who I am. who I am is irrelevant because I am living for Someone much greater and cooler and smarter and better than me. who I am only counts if others can see Christ in me. if I am living the life that He has willed for me and being the person that He has willed me to be. I have not been fulfilling these things, and so I must apologize. so here it is: dear world, who cares who sarah is? she is empty if not for Christ. she is only a facade, a colorful wall with no substance behind it. and everyone knows that when you have too many colors on a canvas, you get brown. boring, lame, brown. that's what you get when you let an unskilled artist try to paint a masterpiece. what you need is the only true, great Artist to commission the masterpiece. I have not let this Artist paint the canvas of my life recently and it is obvious. So, world (and Christ), I am sorry that I tried to put the brush in my own hands, trusting this fragile life to an even more fragile soul.
getting back on track is the hardest part. it always has been for me. it's like I start to push forward a bit, but I only get a few feet before my momentum shuts off and I'm pulled right back into the rut. but I suppose recognizing it is the first step and I've got to just keep fighting. don't worry world, 'tis only for a time. the cooler, realer, livin'-it-up sarah shall be back. sooner or later I'm going to have to start living outside of myself again. sooner or later I'll be shoved toward a higher cause by that great, loving, Force-to-be-reckoned-with. and I'll have no choice but to move on, to see outside myself. until then...
ill-fitting sweater (girls night)
So, last night I spent the evening with several of my girlfriends in the proverbial "girls night." There is a long story of my friendship with these girls, but suffice it to say that what we have can hardly be called a friendship any longer. Save for one of them (who is the blonde, rational version of me and who happens to be my best friend), I find it difficult to spend any lengthy amount of time with them. Two years ago we all began to sort of drift apart, which is when the blonde, rational me (who is also a part of this little group of girls) and I started becoming better friends. I suppose this did not help matters much, but we didn't care because we had become the "black sheep" of the group, or at least that's what we called ourselves anyway. Blonde, rational me - who I will refer to as LC from here on out - and I have never really fit in.
Anyway, all that to say that our little group didn't see much of each other very often and now it seems to me that they all have this identity for me that they packed away in a little box and now pull it out each time they see me, like that sweater that you sort of like, but don't really love, but you pull it out of the box each fall anyway because it keeps you warm, so you need it, and you sort of like it and it always stays the same, but you don't really know what else to do with it. This "me" is just a really simple girl who runs a lot, is medially intelligent, uncreative, rather quiet, and wears running clothes nearly all the time. Now, this is not going to turn into a "sarah101" class, but things have changed a good bit since those days. It is true that I love to run, that I am no genius, and that I have the capability of being quiet - but that is about all that has stayed the same. The rest of sarah-world has basically been turned on its side and I have a whole new angle on things.
I suppose all of that was to say that I did not like being pulled out of the box and put on like the sort-of-liked sweater. Because it is now an ill-fitting and somewhat itchy sweater. The evening left me with the feeling that I don't know who I am, all because a few girls who are supposed to know, don't. Which is crazy, that I would let it affect me that much, but I did. It has been tough today, regaining the real sarah and all, which is partially (or maybe mostly) why I am writing right now. Because it is safe, and something I love to do, and part of who I am. It is also why I am listening to Sondre Lerche on the Dan in Real Life soundtrack. It is warm and comfortable and inviting, like the sweater you love so much that you keep it in your closet year round becase you simply can't bear to pack it off in a box for a few months.
This is the longest post I have put up yet, but I saw somewhere that blogging is a better alternative to therapy, which is something I would never, ever subject myself to (not that I need it). But that is for another day and another post.
Anyway, all that to say that our little group didn't see much of each other very often and now it seems to me that they all have this identity for me that they packed away in a little box and now pull it out each time they see me, like that sweater that you sort of like, but don't really love, but you pull it out of the box each fall anyway because it keeps you warm, so you need it, and you sort of like it and it always stays the same, but you don't really know what else to do with it. This "me" is just a really simple girl who runs a lot, is medially intelligent, uncreative, rather quiet, and wears running clothes nearly all the time. Now, this is not going to turn into a "sarah101" class, but things have changed a good bit since those days. It is true that I love to run, that I am no genius, and that I have the capability of being quiet - but that is about all that has stayed the same. The rest of sarah-world has basically been turned on its side and I have a whole new angle on things.
I suppose all of that was to say that I did not like being pulled out of the box and put on like the sort-of-liked sweater. Because it is now an ill-fitting and somewhat itchy sweater. The evening left me with the feeling that I don't know who I am, all because a few girls who are supposed to know, don't. Which is crazy, that I would let it affect me that much, but I did. It has been tough today, regaining the real sarah and all, which is partially (or maybe mostly) why I am writing right now. Because it is safe, and something I love to do, and part of who I am. It is also why I am listening to Sondre Lerche on the Dan in Real Life soundtrack. It is warm and comfortable and inviting, like the sweater you love so much that you keep it in your closet year round becase you simply can't bear to pack it off in a box for a few months.
This is the longest post I have put up yet, but I saw somewhere that blogging is a better alternative to therapy, which is something I would never, ever subject myself to (not that I need it). But that is for another day and another post.
creative: conventional wisdom
they tell you not to rock the boat,
to go with the flow,
to Let it Be.
they tell you to be different,
to swim against the stream,
to fight the machine.
they tell you to stop and smell the roses,
to wake up and smell the coffee,
to enjoy the simple things.
they tell you all's fair in love and war,
that it's better to have loved and lost
than to have never loved at all.
you can bet your bottom dollar
that conventional wisdom
is the sugar that helps the medicine go down.
written circa november, two-thousand nine
to go with the flow,
to Let it Be.
they tell you to be different,
to swim against the stream,
to fight the machine.
they tell you to stop and smell the roses,
to wake up and smell the coffee,
to enjoy the simple things.
they tell you all's fair in love and war,
that it's better to have loved and lost
than to have never loved at all.
you can bet your bottom dollar
that conventional wisdom
is the sugar that helps the medicine go down.
written circa november, two-thousand nine
creative: frail
A frail thing am I,
Fraught, I am, with selfish desire,
Uncertainty, and pride.
With greedy aspirations have I fashioned my own funeral pyre -
But with His graceful hand has He turned the tide.
Frail though I am,
He sought me, pursued me,
Never yielding, though I ran and ran.
I fought, but my body gave out, my legs grew weary.
And I collapsed, bone-tired, into His strong, waiting arms -
And never was the same.
written june the eighth, two-thousand and ten
Fraught, I am, with selfish desire,
Uncertainty, and pride.
With greedy aspirations have I fashioned my own funeral pyre -
But with His graceful hand has He turned the tide.
Frail though I am,
He sought me, pursued me,
Never yielding, though I ran and ran.
I fought, but my body gave out, my legs grew weary.
And I collapsed, bone-tired, into His strong, waiting arms -
And never was the same.
written june the eighth, two-thousand and ten
creative: twilight spectrum
a spectrum of blues overtakes the sky -
above the horizon lies
dark blue and
bright blue and
sea blue and
royal blue and
color-of-your-eyes blue.
above a facade of black trees lies
cerulean blue and
sapphire blue and
purple-y blue and
robin's egg blue and
shadow-on-the-sidewalk blue.
well ,if the sky wears his mood on his sleeve,
he might be a sleepy sort of
sad
tonight. or,
he might be a vibrant sort of
satisfied
tonight.
Mr. Sky, could you please
clarify
your emotions tonight, sir?
written may the fifth, two-thousand and ten
above the horizon lies
dark blue and
bright blue and
sea blue and
royal blue and
color-of-your-eyes blue.
above a facade of black trees lies
cerulean blue and
sapphire blue and
purple-y blue and
robin's egg blue and
shadow-on-the-sidewalk blue.
well ,if the sky wears his mood on his sleeve,
he might be a sleepy sort of
sad
tonight. or,
he might be a vibrant sort of
satisfied
tonight.
Mr. Sky, could you please
clarify
your emotions tonight, sir?
written may the fifth, two-thousand and ten
beginnings
It is currently roughly halfway between two and three in the morning and I am embarking on the very new adventure of my first-ever blog. Perhaps it is because it's halfway between two and three in the morning that I am even doing this. Perhaps it is because I have a narcissistic need to put my thoughts into words for other people to read. Whatever the reason, I am committed, for now at least.
Anyways, I am quite suddenly tired. I had to christen the voyage of this baby though. That being done, I think I shall say "Bonne nuit!" Even though it is techinically morning. But whatever. More later.
Anyways, I am quite suddenly tired. I had to christen the voyage of this baby though. That being done, I think I shall say "Bonne nuit!" Even though it is techinically morning. But whatever. More later.
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