Seasons. Seasons? Seasons!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love you all so much!

Sara

A little game

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

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

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

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

Love,

Sara

Better For

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

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

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

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

But, that's just my idea.

Love you all,

Sara

The need for God

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love,

Sara

If I were a singer...

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

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

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

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

And, I (of course) love you!

Sara

Sometimes there is desert, but in it there are streams

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you all so very, very much!

Sara

A reunion, of sorts

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

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

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

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

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

I love you,

Sara