Little Bit Crazy

I am trying to figure out how to put into words what all I am processing, and I can’t seem to do it.

I have created so many drafts for this blog that I cannot finish… though all worthy thoughts, I just cannot spit the words out. I need metaphor, symbolism, and I am never satisfied with what I come up with. I think part of my writers block (if you will) is that I have so much going on in my head that I have difficulty focousing in on one, and processing it.

MY SUMMER:

I am working 9 hours a day… sometimes it is unofficially more because I drive my mom to work, making my day 12 hours this Tuesday. 7-7. oof. I don’t know how I manage to cram so much into my life. It probably isn’t sane. Anyway, I am enjoying my two jobs, and my side occupations, although time consuming it has been a wonderful learning experience. I am dabbeling in everything from developmentally dissabled adults, to business, to the music industry (writing reviews), to helping out with my church’s youth group, and painting!!

In all of this, I find I have ironically become much more laid back. I am still very driven to be active and to follow through with things- to deliver, but I am less worried about the picky things, and my demeanor has calmed a lot. I have been studying prayer, looking at the formulas to the just honest ‘GOD why are you letting this happen’, to simply resting in silence knowing GOD is there. I have been learning to find peace in the financial chaos, and rest in the unknown of life after college. I am finally starting to really enjoy the present.

I need sleep now. So I am going to rest and write more later

July 6

July 6. 2008

I am sitting in the car, the sun on my face, the bare sky over me, accented by the lush green trees & fields around me. I find the peaceful joy in that isolation where I have met God. From there all that was driving me insane, minutes earlier, fades.

I can just sit in this silence- As if I were sitting locked in gaze with the greatest lover of all time. I am stealing moments away with him. This is freeing me- breaking the bonds of all the things I’ve allowed myself to be tied down by.

Here I want to remain forever.

My eyes shut but my face is raised toward the sky. I feel the sun. And as quickly as the trees pass by my window so do my worries. One by one they fade into the distance and are gone.

I know this is exactly where I am meant to be. Within the embrace of my creator, fully engulfed in his joy and creativity- the marvel of what is and how life can be.

This is where I again met Jesus. I told him that I can’t keep fighting my battles on my own. I am not strong enough. I am sorry I did not recognize this earlier.

I let go.

He is there.

filling empty space

I was lucky enough to attend the Jack Johnson concert in Wisconsin on Sunday. It was a perfect day; warm, bug-less, and clear skies.

We had shuffled through the madness of traffic, which had more than doubled our travel time, and sifted through the crowds to get close to the stage with a good view of the smooth musicians: Money Mark, Mason Jennings, and Jack Johnson. It was an interesting setting and the crowd was an interesting blend of alcohol, smoke, some various drug use, as well as families, and the sober.

The two opening bands finished and the beers were kicking in. The music was moving through the soul and heads were bobbing. Jack Johnson came on stage and the roar of the audience rose across the field.

There had to have been several thousands of fans who were tightly packed in front of the stage; soaking in the sweet melody of his acoustic guitar.

I loved the music. It fit the scenery; it fit the moment. The sun felt like a warm blanket on my back, and as the stars came out with the darkness shadowing the faces and brightening the lights on stage, it hit me.

To my left there was a man who was obviously in an alternate reality, the air was now full of cigarette and marijuana, further down the row to my right there were 2 guys on acid and surrounding me there were people whose several drinks had finally caught up to them.

I started looking around me as the lyrics: ‘i love Jesus and Buddha too… how can there be one way to get to you- we are all apart of God…’ was met with loud cheering from the crowd and everyone echoed an ‘alright’ in agreement.

I was struck by the emptiness of those lyrics and the emptiness I was seeing in the actions of those around me.

There has to be more than life than escaping it.

I looked up at the stars; the vastness of the sky and the universe overwhelmed me- it all seemed so surreal that life like this’ in its infinite complexity, could exist. I started to feel the reality of how brief life was and how little life was truly being lived. I was filled with sadness.

I wondered what point there was in living life when it is so brief and in the grand scheme of the universe and beyond-  life of any human seems unimportant.

I did not stay in this state of despair however.

It has helped me gain perspective. Although the reality of life, all the sorrow, pain, and evil exists- I have come to the cliche conclusion that it is worth living the life I have been given to the best of my abilities- to make the most of the little time I have. This in my conclusion, is that this is done through loving and serving others; by offering the gifts and skills you have, to help others.

I want to LIVE life.

My question is:

How can one inspire others to choose life instead of simply filling empty space? And how do you go about actually living when the world gives a definition of living that seems to lead to the opposite?

What are your thoughts?

(CLARIFICATION: Now, I do not want to be misunderstood: I do not hate anyone who is involved in these areas. I am not trying to judge them. I am simply coming (once again) to the realization through observation, that this is not worth while and that there is so much more to life- and because I wish the best for others I wonder how I may share LIFE with them.)

Much Afraid

Empty again

Sunken down so far

So scared to fall

Might not get up again

So I lay at You feet

All my brokenness

I carry my burdens to You

Chorus:

All of these things

Held up in vain

No reason or rhyme

Just the scars that remain

I’m so much afraid

Scared out of my mind

By the demons I’ve made

Sweet Jesus, you never let me go

Oh, sweet Jesus, you never ever let me go.

So happy to love

Yet so far to go

You lead me on to where I’ve never been before

No, no, no, sweet Jesus, you never let me go.

by Jars of Clay

Under Construction

I stood today in the large NBA arena looking down on the blue caps and gowns of my High School. It has been exactly 365 days since I sat in those black fold up chairs. I was one uniform, 18 year old student among the nearly 800 other blue gowned students, who after four years of growth, had finally made her way out of the very crazy  k-12 stretch into young adulthood. I was looking ahead to the road that called me to my soon to come independence: College.

Now a Sophomore at my University, I look at these anxious and excited soon to be college Freshmen, and wonder what incredible changes they will allow into their lives.

I was recalling my expectations. I felt like I was finally an adult. I had reached the age I never thought would come, and looking back at my first year of college- I realize how little I could have even guessed would occurr in my life from those black fold up chairs, in just one year. I have been humbled and realize that I am NOT on top of the world. Even though college years are fun- I must and have (for the most part) adopted the learners heart… I do NOT know everything there is to know- I also know I am NOT all that- even though I have some of the coolest friends ever, and have been having a blast. I am an insignificant individual to the rest of the world. This doesn’t disturb me.

So much of high school is a search for relevance and significance to your peers, teachers, even your parents. Finally, at the end of those four years you may be the hottie, the jock, the brainiack who seems to be the new Einstein, etc. Then you toss your cap, you pack all of your belongings into the trunk of your car, and all of a sudden you are a nobody. No one knows your history, and it doesn’t matter if you were the most popular boy or girl out of the thousands at your public high school- you aren’t now.

Just looking down at the graduates from the nose bleed section helped me to realize how good it was to be rid of all of the high school who’s who and to figure out who I AM… in an environment directly suited for who I want to become.

That was another thing… finally I had the opportunity to really think about, and FOCUS on who I want to become.

I am still figuring life out, and I am still in transition- I am still under construction.

6 major changes and a year later I am possibly even more confused as to who I am. Construction is the perfect analogy though. I feel as if high school was the mapping out of the house the ground work etc. It was the part where you spray paint the lines and draw out the plans. In college they tear the foundation right out from under you and begin building the structure.

It requires heavy machinery lots of people and a good design.

I am still under construction; I will always be under construction. I have experienced the intense questions that have helped me rethink where I am going in life, that have challenged what I believe, and have helped me become stronger and grow a more sturdy foundation.

I look forward to the work ahead. Congrats class of 2008! May your construction go well. May it challenge you and may it strengthen you and help you to realize how much God truly is watching over you and how much he truly cares for you.

Walking in New Shoes

I have entered the life of Amir, and I can’t seem to escape it. Amir is the narrator for the story the kite runner. If you haven’t read the book- you must.

He describes the wars that the Afghan people have seen on their own lands in the past several decades. It is gripping… heart renching. a story of terrible things with wonderful redemption.

I have been learning a lot about Jesus through one of the characters: Hassan.

If you read the story I think it would be easier to see how this Muslim child could reflect Christ in so many ways.

He is quiet- he takes the wrath a normal ten year old friend continues to dish out in response to jealousy. He sacrifices, he exhibits unending loyalty and devotion to his dear friend, and so much more. Amir is tormented by the incredibly undeserved goodness of this child- his friend, as by his inability to accept the grace and forgiveness that Hassan offers. I saw myself in reflection to my Savior. Sometimes I just cannot accept his grace- I cannot forgive people or myself. I found myself relating to Amirs frustrations- yet as an outsider begging him pleading with this fictional character- to accept it and allow truth to reign. Why do we as humans hide the truth and allow ourselves to become prisoners to jealousy, frustration- sometimes even hatred. Why do we allow ourselves to become blinded?nWhy is it SO hard to receive grace?

I may not have experienced even close to the severity of the issues the characters in THE KITE RUNNER face- but i have been lost in frustration, blinded by jealousy, and caught in the pride that keeps me from accepting Jesus’s offer for mercy and love. I think everyone has.

I strongly recommend this book.

Reflection Unearthed.

This is an honest reflection i had written in this past November. It was where I was- and if you could see me now you’d smile.

as i find myself continuously and shamefully intrigued by various reflections and how the angle of the light and the form of the surface into which an image is being reflected, can so severely distort an image. I feel like i have started seeing my life from a different angle, and through different glass, which has caused various distortions in my view of my short life thus far.
i have realized how much some scars still sting, despite the fact that the injury occurred years ago. I have also learned the power and timelessness of some joys.

I have started not only reflecting- but rummaging through the boxes full of the various experiences i have been blessed and cursed to have. Sometimes it feels like a dark tunnel. As if some of the child hood experiences that i had pushed under the rug have found their way out and asked for a piggy back ride. there they rest. a burden my Jesus has offered to bear.
How is it that although i complain, grunt, groan, and hate carrying this burden i refuse to stop and allow my savior to accept it?

My views have become distorted. things that never used to stress me out are on my nerves. pushing my buttons. ruining my day. The strong sarah i used to be slowly crumbles like the walls of jericho, and i am exposed. vulnerable. dust. the dust of the earth.

maybe i have just been slowly taking off the veil as i create my art, slowly pictorally process the many confusions and veins of thought i allow no time to explore.

tell me, why is it so easy to remember and to remain on the sad times, and overlook the good. Shouldn’t the good be able to overpower the bad? Shouldn’t good always win? Oh good Father of Grace, you have not left this heart or place.

I will soon refocus my eyes to the true reflections, not to the distorted views that have allowed me to believe and focus solely on the ugly things in my life. There is redemption in my heart and soul. A story of hope that continues to be written, that is the true reflection, and the joy that sooner or later will override any sadness that overwhelms me at any point, whether it be now or in the future.

Social Justice Week Recap

Massive amounts of cardboard provide for good aesthetic contrast to the lush spring green grass. All different shapes and sizes each box displayed a bit of the inhabitants personality, and so became the cardboard box community- my home and foreign family for the week.

I was unable to spend much time in the community due to an abnormal number of meetings added to my regular front desk work hours. I arrived at the community around one in the morning most every night. Because of these meetings and shifts, I also was unable to make all but 2 of the sessions. I needed the two sessions that I attended however. Chris Lahr, spoke directly to my heart, and I was captivated. As he spoke I couldn’t help but think that he must have been a lot like the apostles: scraggly, rough, but full of passion and love for those who have been over looked by the world.

I was forced to face my own biases and misperceptions. He challenged us to live what we say we believe. He challenged the concept of ministry, and spoke of how we need to be careful that we do not turn those we desire to help, into projects. He brought up the lack of commitment that the church shows to those they involve themselves with through ministry. “Jesus never mentioned anything about ministry- he spoke about the way.”- a life style.

It hit me again- hard, that those sitting on the streets in the cold are God’s creations- loved ones, and no more deserve the street than I do. How many times I have walked by avoiding eye contact and walking on in a hurry- pretending to not see the outstretched begging hands, and choosing not to hear the plea for change or food. I was ashamed, this was not the way God was calling me to live. I am meant to reflect the love Christ so unconditionally has spread to me.

The timing of Social Justice Week was interesting. I had been frustrated with God at how many conflicting passions I seemed to have. I had always wanted to work with refugees. When I hear about refugees, my heart beats a little faster- and I get excited- heated even sometimes. I want to go- now. But God has opened my eyes this year to the need EVERYWHERE. There is an incredible need in the inner city, the church, developing nations with orphans, widows, the poor, families, the elderly, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, and even beyond that -the wealthy. I started to feel as if the wealthy in the west were the most unreached people group. I didn’t know what to do with this overwhelming desire to be fully active in all of these areas. To top it all off, I could even less understand the feeling that God was telling me to major in studio art- that did not (and still does not) seem to fit into any of these areas.

I brought all of these frustrations with me to the meeting, and as Chris spoke, I felt God gently saying, ‘List your passions. List your passions.’ I did. They filled up a whole page of my small notebook, and I hoped for revelation, but none came. Yet as Chris spoke and as he referred to our own Calcutta’s, I realized, that God does have a plan, place, and purpose for me, but for now I just need to keep seeking God in ALL areas of life, and to continue to learn how broken this world is, and how much God is calling his children to BE PRESENT, ALIVE, AND WILLING WHERE THEY ARE AT!

I still think about what Chris said, and wonder if I will ever work with the inner city, or the homeless, I don’t know, but I pray for them- and whatever opportunity rises I am now- more than ever, determined to act on it, and to be of service.

The next speaker- the pastor of the church, was wonderful as well. I loved how he was able to help me once again see even the dirty drug addicted, alcoholics, on the streets as my brothers and sisters in Christ. He humbled me again, and helped me remember that God loves them so incredibly too. I loved the story he shared in chapel of the mentally handicapped man who desired so much to be a part of the worship, and how they enabled him to be a part of it by simply not plugging him in to the sound equipment. The body of Christ, as I am continuing to learn, is larger than race, gender, and social class – but even the mentally disabled are included in that. God loves them and died for them too. It is so encouraging- especially having worked and made friendships with those who are disabled- to hear of a church incorporating them like that in such special ways. That is truly the body of Christ.

People still ask me why I would participate in Social Justice Week, especially since I cannot truly experience the hardship that any truly homeless person would through it. To be honest, I signed up because I figured it wouldn’t hurt, and could only help me learn and grow- even if it was only a tiny taste. As the week went on however, I began to understand how little I really was experiencing the homeless lifestyle. I could still change clothes, shower, have easy access to technology, education, food, and friends. Once I realized that I realized the real reason I was out there. It was not to simply become grateful for what God has given me- although I do have a much greater appreciation for the roof over my head and the mattress and sheets I am blessed to be able to sleep on. I was there to learn, and to focus in prayer, thought, and discussion, on those in the situation we were attempting to replicate. I was a part of a community dedicated to praying for those suffering around the world, and as a community, seeking for our hearts to be broken for them.

I miss my box, oddly enough. I got so much closer to my good box mate, and I miss waking up for sleepy, yet honest worship as the sun rose. I miss being able to wake up and being surprised at my own joyful attitude, and thankfulness that it had not rained.

It was such a beautiful thing to be with people who were simply searching for God and understanding.

I am walking away, with lessons learned, thoughts still to process, convictions, great stories to tell, and with hope, that God will continue to move through campus, and break our hearts for the needy.

Thinking about the future

I really don’t have to do a whole lot of serious thinking yet, compared to others about the future- but one thing that i have learned about myself over the past (almost 20 years now) is that I can’t help but think and dream, and plan for what is to come.

It is social justice week at school. Meaning a portion of students who have volunteered, will sleep outside in cardboard boxes on the lawn between two of the academic buildings for the week. most of us wont shower, eat regular meals, or change clothes. There are speakers every night, and worship every morning at 7:00 a.m. Last night it was cancelled due to freeze warning and because it started raining before boxes could even be set up. This bothered a lot of people, because the homless don’t get to simply not sleep on the street because of the weather. But, since we do have responsibilities to school etc, AND because we have beds and roofs over our heads, we decided to wisely take advantage of those blessings last night, and to thank God for them.

The speaker did not cancel his meeting (and thank GOD he didn’t). The speaker works with an organization  in the inner city of Philadelphia with his family. He told us his story and how God has been walking with him and his family. It was so inspiring. This closley followed – mind you – the annual address of the University President, about living not for significance, but out of, through, and for faithfulness.

I realized that I struggle with thinking and being satisfied with the small. All that encouragment to dream BIG, really worked on me- to the point where I was deeply unsatisfied to think that I would not have a grand and adventurous life at some point in time.  However, even if I do have a grand and adventurous life at some point (and I believe so far i may even have had a bit of one)- I remember that God doesn’t just use the significant, or those in power, or with influence. God uses the woman by the well, the mary magdalanes- the nobodies- in seemingly small ways through their faithfulness, for what later turns out to be magnificent things which are glorifying to GOD.

I have always wanted to go back over seas. To work in an adrenaline-rush environment… where I could actively see the fruits of my labor, and feel as if i was doing something big and really worth while. I struggle to clearly identify my motives behind wanting to go to another country and help. I do truly love culture, travel and being among displaced people, because that is where i truly feel at home, however, i also want to be of value. I want to do something GREAT. Something that people will remember. To have significance.

I am starting to realize that my greatest challenge may be staying here. It may be working in the inner city of America. It needs help too. And why do people always feel like they need to go somewhere else to love people and share God’s love with them?? People in America need it too! Last night God even gave me an image a dream for what I could do in the USA, if this is where he called me to be. A big house, in the inner city, where we could cook BIG meals for homeless every thursday, and we could have immigrants come in and get help- maybe even offer shelter! offer free art classes (through government grants) to kids who are going to incredibly tough schools. Things like that. Be apart of a community and just offer love.

I don’t know where God is calling me… but he has given me dreams and passions for many – and i mean MANY different things…

We will see where God leads. My heart is stirring. I have so much more peace with the uncertainty of where God may take me in my future! Praise God for everything he is doing, has done, and will do in the lives of those around us, and for what he is doing in us! AMEN!

CHI-TOWN

after a mad rush of crazy movement into a city from one of the most rural areas i have ever been in, we dove into the flow of the week.

our team started off with a night of bonding at one our leaders houses. We filled ourselves with incredible food, games, prayer, and fellowship. The next day we headed into the downtown and settled into the big church on the corner, where we would be dwelling for the following 9 days.

easter was spent in an african american church, with a lively congregation and many dancing children of God. The paster was sweating floods, and frequently dried himself with a towel, and the rest of the congregation including the rural white kids all jumped, clapped and jived.

after the service, we prepared food and met at sunshine ministry to begin the series of urban exposure sessions.

Joel and Sean were our teachers and guides. we learned about racial reconciliation,  homelessness, the social injustice in the city, poverty cycles, etc.

My brain went and still is on overload.

we visited and experienced the culture shock of Chinatown, where the live turtles, frogs, and fish that were killed before our eyes. we also visited a ministry located there that helped teach ESL classes and minister to the masses.

tuesday we cleaned the church while the boys dry walled and worked on instillation in a building, and then proceded to embark on a 2 hour ‘El’ ride where we were meant to engage in conversation with various strangers.

I had 9 different conversations. i met sylvester, marc, 2 foreign exchange students (from brazil and korea), yata, and a couple other random conversations.

The conversations were awesome. One conversation was held with a woman who spoke of her 2 years in various refugee camps, and the hardships that she faced there, another was with a high man, who was asking for kisses, and although having made a poor first impression, actually engaged in a conversation about Christ with me. I had asked him what his passions were and he told me that ‘really the thing that is closest to my heart right now is getting saved.’

i was startled and asked him who he was waiting to be saved by? he said Jesus Christ, and then changed the subject back to random and at times rude things. But he was my friend, and before he left we hugged and wished one another well.

I saw a piece of Christ shine through him- and it was incredible.

That train ride in general was an adventure. About 6 stops before ours there was a power shortage and a huge bright bright blue light flashed and smoked. chicagonites emptied the cars screaming, ” IT’S GUNNA BLOW!”

not being a native- our team obeyed and ran – staring and asking questions as the train emptied onto the platform. no one knows what happened- but everyone was o.k. and after the excitement was over, every one proceeded to find their seats again and  continue on their merry way.

the next day the girls work project was canceled, so we were put on a scavenger hunt as the boys finished the instillation project. This may have been one of the most impacting incidences for me. we started the scavenger hunt but ended on the second site where we got coffee and were offered a tour of the ‘little black pearl’.

this is a fair trade coffee joint, that has an art school and gallery in the back of the building. the facility is incredible! it inspired me in such incredible ways. they offer sculpture, mural, mosaic, drawing, dance, and many other classes to students stuck in some of the worst school in the nation. the students get commission jobs where their art is displayed on sides of buildings, lampposts, highways etc. through out the rest of the trip i saw at least 2 of their major projects around the city.

it was incredible to see how transformed these students were once they entered the studio. it was inspiring and brought me to tears.

i felt a VERY strong desire to be involved with the school, and am hoping to intern there for my art major one summer.

after that we met back at the ministry to go tour Pacific Garden homeless shelter. That facility stands as an incredible beacon of Christs faithfulness and power. it is a beacon of hope, like a lighthouse in a storm.

it houses close (if not) a 1000 people and requires and therefore provides showers for each guest every night. It is working to build a greenhouse so that it can be self sufficient in several ways, and all of its food  is donated by various organizations every day. they have classes, job options, a free and good medical clinic, etc. it was incredible- and to think it is over 100 years old and started because of a womans vision.

incredible. God is really at work.

thursday we visited JPUSA, and interesting experience and community. we visited their homeless shelter, and were then told to go in pairs to talk homeless people on the street.  we had many interesting conversations. I went with adam G. We talked to tom and roger.  tom was from a group home but couldn’t find his way back- lost in chicago with no way for me or adam to help him find his way back. Please – if you think about it pray for him.

friday we engaged with the muslim and hindu culture of north chicago. we listened to an apologist and were then sent out again to explore the neighborhood and meet people. we met one woman who worked at a books store and who shared her hindu beliefs!  it was really cool to hear her stories and beliefs.

saturday we embarked on our journey back after debriefing a bit with our team, roamed downtown Chicago for an hour, and headed on the 4- 5 hour trip back to campus. The next morning the team reconnected to attend a local baptist African American church. it was such a blessing to attend and be apart of that community locally.

our team has bonded so strongly, and learned so much. our hearts have been exposed to much pain, and we will be working to be active in our community here on campus with the knowledge we have gained. i will be involved in a childrens innercity ministry, and may start attending the african american church 15 mins away.

I feel a strong desire to be active in the inner city and all of its blessings and trials in our society.  we will see what else God has in store. i will share more of my lessons learned later- but for now i must say good night and finish homework.

thanks for all of your prayer and support!! much love and blessings,

Sarah