There's no such thing as perfect

Why the constant teeter todder... and how do you spell that, anyway?
Anticipation is killing me, by the way. Not knowing where I'm going to sleep each night while I'm on the road, not knowing where I will be able to make money next, while stressful, I can handle. But not knowing when I can get taxes done, not knowing when I can get rid of my piece of a car and get a new one. Not knowing if the one I want will even be available to me... this I cannot handle. Not knowing which direction to move forward with in my very near future, I can't handle. And then having my much anticipated massage be cancelled on me literally as I'm on my way to a glorious hour of relaxation, I cannot handle.
I am overwhelmed with thoughts of bigness and heaviness. I am overwhelmed with thoughts about how broken of a world we live in, how creation is being destroyed before me, how people and animals get mistreated in this world. I am overwhelmed with thoughts of how no one at my workplace seems to understand or accept my tendencies toward dramaticism. Sometimes I'm loud, and big with my words, sometime I speak passionately about things that might not seem like a big deal. Sometimes I am just dramatic. And it's not even in-your-face or angry, or mean. In fact, it's usually dramatic, but fairly light-hearted at the same time because I KNOW I'm dramatic. And sometimes I just want people to accept that rather than say, "Geez, calm down Sarah", even if it is jokingly.
I am overwhelmed with the fact that I am in transition towards something totally unknown and each day it gets closer. I am overwhelmed with the fact that it might not be taking a turn in a direction that I think is perfect. I am overwhelmed with coldness, and the deadness of the trees. I need nature back and alive for me to spring up and show me once again that life will come, and the sun will finally nourish in the way that is most needed.

I am sick of thinking about all the things I would do in life, that I will do in life. I'm sick of thinking of all the options I have, the ones I can take, and the ones I can't take. I'm sick of longing over pictures of beautiful places, and I'm sick of looking at cars that I need to buy but currently can't act on actually doing just that. I am sick of life pulling the rug out from under me right when I start to feel like I'm beginning to stand up all the way. Why? That's just mean. I realize that incredible growth can come in these times if we let ourselves grow. But I just want to rest. My growing pains are making me weary.
And I'm sick of the whole "you're in your 20s and finding yourself" stage of life. I know that life is an ever continual process of growth and finding ones self, but for this particularly large and in-charge place of life... I'm done. I'm done. And I'm only half way through? Lord, have mercy.

I realize now that throughout this day I have said, "I've got to do something", and, "I'm done", more than I've said any other phrases this day. And they are incredibly opposing things to say.
Gosh. That's me right there for yah. The walking opposition. I feel it down to my bones.

It's a long and rugged road, and we don't know where it's headed, 
but we know it's going to get us where we're going.
And when we find what we're looking for we'll drop these bags and search no more,
'Cause it's going to feel like heaven when we're home.

There's no such thing as perfect, and if there is we'll find it when we're good and dead.
Trust me I've been looking, but tonight I think I'll go and take a bath instead.
Then maybe I'll walk awhile, feel the Earth beneath me. 
They say if you stop looking it doesn't matter if you find it.
And who's to say that even if I did it's what I'm really looking for.

It's going to feel like heaven when we're home.

My Moral Dilemma

Dear Everyone,

I am having a moral dilemma. How fitting that as soon as I write this Gungor's "The Earth is Yours" comes on my playlist, my current favorite song of worship.
Lord, the Earth is Yours, and singing. But beneath the loud voice of worship there are cries and moans of a broken world.
And activist came alive in me this past summer realizing as I read through Genesis that this Earth is important and beautiful and MUST be taken good care of. I now find myself diving further into the knowledge of good and evil that we as a people became so keenly aware of the day that Eve took the first taste of the forbidden fruit. I know the good. I know a minute fraction of the GOOD of this Earth, and I see also only a small iota of the evil as well. It infuriates me. But what good is my infuriation without action? Ignorance is bliss.
Ignorance was bliss at the morning dawn whenever I cracked my egg into the sizzling butter that fried my morning sustenance. Ignorance was bliss as I unpacked boxes of meat and cheese to display them for the hungry world of Trader Joe's. Ignorance was bliss and a little comedic when I laughed along with knock-off acronyms like PETA: People Eating Tasty Animals.
Ignorance I'm sure to have much of, but not enough to be in bliss any longer. I can't shake the little bit of knowledge I have of where my food comes from now. Food: Something that is supposed to support and sustain us, something that brings us together in community while being grown, made, AND being eaten. If we were all involved in every step of the process (in a pure way) we would all surely be in awe of the Lord. And food was there, first hand experiencing the fall of mankind at the hands of... mankind. The ones who are supposed to be stewarding this bountiful planet have bastardized our food from day one. Can we even get a handle on how to redeem our food? Ourselves? Our relationship with our food? I'm not just talking about a healthy mental relationship, I'm talking about a healthy personal relationship.
Personal, yes, because we eat animals. And the Lord allows that. He has allowed the beasts of the Earth to be food for man. With that allowance though, He has NOT taken away our call to steward this place we live in and take care of it. To live into being a Godly people we must care for our bodies, our souls, we must care for our planet, and we must also care for our animals.
This is where my dilemma comes in. This is where ignorance is bliss. The two eggs I made for myself this morning came from certified organic free range chickens. But free range means not what it sounds like it means. Free range, cage free chickens are hardly that. Do you know that cage free actually means that they are still stuffed inside a building with only one square foot of space per chicken? Free range means that they have a five minute window when the doors of their coop open up to a hardly open space of sunlight reflecting only off of the gravel, grass-less ground that surrounds their home. Their beaks are cut off as chicks, and live male chicks are thrown into a grinder alive because they produce no eggs and, thus, are pointless in this world. There are no laws or standards protecting the way chickens are butchered. Organic or not, they are butchered inhumanely. I won't get into the things that happen in a non-organic chicken farm. It's truly not good in any way. It would bring tears to the coldest eyes.
As for cows: The males, for beef, have their testicles cut off at the hands of a person with a machete without a drug in their body to ease the pain. Men, imagine that for a minute. At a place where the cows are humanly raised they, instead, have a rubber band put around their testicles so the organ dies and falls off. Better?
What has happened? Why do we get to pump God's animals with hormones to fatten them up and feed our bellies? I don't think we realize the sheer magnitude and the lies we have been swept up in with this defilement. Satan has a weapon in ignorance. Hosea 4:6 says, "My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge; because you have rejected knowledge.."
I am a meat and beef loving, cheese eating, egg hoarding lover of all foods animal related. I don't think that's a bad thing. But in essence being a meat-eater in this world has become an enablement of SO many of the wrongdoings to God's creation. It's nearly inescapable, and it deeply saddens my heart. The natural habitat for chickens and cows and turkeys and fish are that way because God placed them there. We shouldn't be changing that. Yet when I go to a grocery store and find the label that says grass-fed, and free range I am not convinced. We have been deceived again, my friend.
So what do I do about it? Honor our bodies. My metabolism keeps me hungry often. Grains don't sustain my energy. I'm very aware of how the food I eat effects my body, and the protein and fats that come from the meat and eggs I eat fill me well. Trying to sustain my protein on quinoa and nuts alone because the world has defiled the way we treat our animals is a hard thing for me to accept. So do I accept it anyway? For the honor of the Lord and His creation?
Or do I learn to grow these things myself? Humanly raise and butcher a cow who has grown up with love in a green pasture. Can I even find a nearby farm to provide me with eggs from chickens who aren't ground up alive? I'm infuriated, and I'm sad, and I'm confused.
I have no answers at the end of this day. But I pray to the Lord for guidance. I WANT to glorify him in my food, and my actions, and my words. I trust that He will guide my way.
I'm sorry if I have taken away your ignorance and your bliss. But I hope I have. And I hope you will find that you, too, want to glorify God in new ways you weren't aware of. Perhaps we can walk together down an unseen road towards sanctification.

Spare the love and spread the embarrassment. Or just spread both.

Why oh, why are there those of us who embarrass so easily?
Actually, let me articulate that a little better. I don't feel embarrassed all that easily, my face, however, likes to deceive those around me. Or is it I who is the one doing the deceiving?
The slightest hint of flattery, the passing of a handsome man, the smallest bit of talk of something one probably shouldn't hear, and there go my cheeks. Blushed and flushed.
Don't EVEN get me started on the handsome man thing. Okay well it's too late.
May I just express my frustration with my inability to speak to any handsome man? Particularly with the ones I actually see myself having no future with.
Exhibit A: Binny's Boy. Or rather, Binny's Man. After all, someone with a beard like his could never be called a boy. It's a big beard. It's red. He probably brews his own beer. He lingers by the salads for awhile, then picks out the ripest banana. Then always goes through a lucky lady's register line at Trader Joes. Who is not ever the lucky lady? Well, me. Until Monday, that is. He bought a single granny smith apple and was the first to walk up to my line. How do I make conversation with a handsome man who likes to brew beer, and drink beer, and grow beards, and look handsome? I turn flush red and gaze lovingly at only the green apple lying there on the counter while my silly red face tries desperately to fight off a gushy smile and looses. Then I say, "So whattaya drinkin'?" not to him, but to his Starbucks cup. The cup answers, "You sound like a dummy", and he answers so kindly with an explanation that he loves pour-over brew. You know, if you go in at the right time of day they'll make one for you? Yes, actually, I do know because I love coffee and worked at Starbucks for years. Too bad I couldn't stop pretending I was in love with his granny smith apple and make conversation about the abundance of things we have in common: Starbucks, beer, and I'm just sure there's a whole list there. Promise.
All the while he works two doors down from me in the same building. Shouldn't I just go buy some beer for goodness sakes? No, because I already know how that conversion will go. I will stare at the Binny's emblem on his shirt with a red face and a dumb smile, then I will ask, "So whattaya doin'?"
Exhibit B: Well, should I? Probably not, because exhibit B and C and D and F and K and Z and all forever of them are, with my luck, someone who will either read this or know someone reading this.
Stuttering, smiling at my feet, saying stupid things about how I'm sweating too much, repeating the same question over and over and over again in the same conversion. That's the gist. I'll spare you the rest of the details.
Sometimes I'm a little witty. Sometimes my face is not flushed red. Most of the time I don't even feel awkward, because I am human and you are human and sometimes we just do dumb human things like punch ourselves in the face while we're tying to open up a box that's taped shut. Multiple times. In public. Either way, we all do dumb things.
So next time you see me if you could just trip up the stairs and let out a good fart as your catching yourself that would very much please me and my need to not feel like the only one who makes a fool of herself on a daily basis. I just need a good laugh at someone other than myself. Believe you me, I get a damn good laugh out of my own misfortunes. But can I spread the love? Let's spread the love.

Spiritual Warfar

Dreams have always been a huge part of my life. Its like I live in another spiritual realm when I finally drift. Sometimes it's fill with terror, and sometimes with extreme peace. Last night it was... leeches.
I dreamed I was on a dock near dark, black water in the dark. HUGE, long, hard and round leaches up to the size of my arm were jumping out of the water and throwing themselves at me trying to stick to me for the satisfaction of sucking on my precious blood and taking away the very thing that gives me life. I'm happy to say none of them actually got to me, but they got awfully close and they did a great job of terrifying me. Remembering that leeches don't like salt, I ran to get some and poured salt over this one giant leech. As soon as I did his skin started smoking and he began screaming a high pitched, horrible scream as though he were a Ringwraith in disguise. Funny enough, that terrified me more than the fact that they were flinging themselves desperately at me.
The dream ended with me unharmed, albeit, a little frightened.

Instantly I knew that this was a dream of spiritual warfare.
Last night with my Sr. High girls at youth group I felt the need to pray for all the weary souls in the room. I felt as though a spiritual attack could have been upon us. I think my dream was showing me that God is and was protecting us and working. He's showing me the power of prayer through my dream. The Devil comes to steal, kill, and destroy, but Christ came to give us life, and to the full. My God is the Salt of the Earth. Sprinkle His name around your life and He will protect you from the Evil One.

Slow down for a fast.

Ash Wednesday is upon us, my friends. A day that has mostly had the meaning of a rich and buttery baked potato topped with melted cheese and slathered with sour cream. The Catholic church down the street did their duty in teaching me that these Ash Wednesdays are the beginning of a season that is plentiful with flaky fish and buttery potatoes. I didn't grow up Catholic, but man, they had something good going on there. That's the most lent has ever meant to me: butter. This season however, it's a little different.
I've never participated in the Lenten season before. I've never wanted to, never felt convicted to, and never quite fully understood the reason for it. Now, I'm sure I have much more to learn than what I have attempted to so far, but this year I want to take part in this fast. This fasting of the the season isn't being done to find my worth in what I can abstain from and remove from my life (as I have always thought it to be). Rather, it is a simplifying of my life of sorts. It's abstaining from something that has the power to consume my time, my mind, my money, and so on. Instead I decide to use that time for things to make me more whole. My goal in life is to be a very well-rounded person.
I have been reading through a book of spiritual disciplines because I've been wanting to learn more on fasting. I was so happy to find in the table of contents all sorts of spiritual disciplines far beyond just prayer, fasting, and worship. What I found in this book were practices like, self-care, celebration, gratitude, community, hospitality, compassion, and care of the Earth. THOSE, my friend, are the kinds of spiritual practices I want to use IN this season of lent. I want to be present to the world around me, and to the God of the world around me.
So the question was, how can I do that? What is my anticipated soul looking for? What consumes my time after work. What should my soul stop feeding on so that my spiritual belly has more room for better things?
The answer for me may seem trite and unimpressive, but I'm not here to impress anyone. Actually, this entire blog post was intended to be a short sentence or two (which I am entirely incapable of) but here we are. Thanks for staying with me. My answer is not sugar, chocolate, or meat (although it could be... maybe should be at some point). My answer is very unfortunately Facebook. The voyeurism of the social media, the lack of privacy in the social media, and the sleeplessness of the social media is so disenchanting, and so non-edifying.
This is not to convict anyone who uses Facebook. I think there are great things about it for those who don't find themselves (ehhem, me) longing for things, coveting things, and being downright annoyed by people and things whom they (me) don't have any right to be annoyed by. Annoyed, judgmental, whatever. I was trying to use language less strong, but let's just call it what it is.
All this to say: I am signing off until the celebration of the risen Christ. Yep. Easter. If you find me to be self righteous in my attempt to explain my Lent fast, please re-read my list of reasons why. Or I will repeat: Longing, coveting, judgement, and may I add time consuming. For as little of time I DO spend on Facebook, and as much as I outwardly express judgment over Facebook, I sure do let it get into my mind and under my skin far too much. I confess. And my the Lord have mercy on my Facebooked soul. Repent, repent.
Here's to hopes of returning as well rested, gracious, and compassionate soul who spends her time caring for the Earth and the hospitality of others.
What the original intent of this message was: To let Facebook know that I am signing off. If you want to be in touch- Please e mail or call me. Perhaps next Lenten season I should fast from excessive words...

The good guys always win.

Let the spirit of the Lord come down.

I don't have a lot to say, but I have much to share.
Let the spirit of the Lord come down.

There is this thing in my peripheral vision. It's like this big ball of light that is filled with magnificence. It's God's promise to me. I can't quite turn my head to it yet, but the road I'm down is leading me there, and I am eagerly and excitedly anticipating it. I keep getting closer.
Did I tell you how serendipitous life is when you live it with the Lord? He's creative not only in the Earth around us, but also in mapping out our lives. We must choose His way, though. He is not a God of force.
His quest is usually not the easiest quest.... then again, neither was Frodo's. But come on, would you have read a 9,250 page book merely about the day to day activities in the Shire? No. We read of The Lord of the Rings.
And I listen to the Lord of Lords. In the end He always wins.

The Art of Non-Conformity

Yes- it's a book title. But it's a good book title. It's a great art to know, wouldn't you say? The Art of Non-Conformity. I picked up the book because the title sums up everything I want to do and be in my life. Each day I spend here in Wheaton, Illinois, the stronger the feeling gets, but the further away the dream seems to run. Sometimes life's a bitch like that.

Overcoming fear is a fairly large obstacle to overcome in life, and chapter three in this book here is dedicated to talking about it and telling me that I should do it. Overcome it! Get past it! The pages are peppered with stories of various people overcoming some sort of conventional conformity that they fear letting go of to do something huge, drastic, and life-changing. In the margins are little quotes like, "The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearful you will make one."
I agree whole-heartedly with all of this. The author doesn't know this, but he's preaching to the choir as I thumb through these pages internally cheering for all those people who made it into chapter three for overcoming their fears. I flew to Scotland by myself for three months when I was fresh out of high school. My car broke down in Colorado for three weeks until I could get it fixed so I used that as a springboard to do something I've always wanted to do: I hitchhiked everywhere to get around. I rode across the country with a stranger from Craigslist only to end up penniless in beach-town in Central California for the sake of living the adventure I've always dreamed of. I will do it. I have been extremely shy and introverted most of my life, but I will step past that for the sake of doing what I want in life (thanks Mom, for the gusto attitude of taking life and making it what I want. That is certainly a quality passed down from her). But for some reason I am reading this chapter through a different lens today than I would have a year ago.

Now reading this chapter about fear, and making lists of all these weird things I want to be doing with my life I am questioning myself. A bigger priority than ever before is listening to the Lord in my decisions. I find this odd thing happening as I'm doing this. He's... He's kind of holding me back. Or is he?
There is ALWAYS a fear when I start doing crazy things. Sometimes they manifest themselves very physically making me want to quit. When I lived out of my car two summers ago in Colorado I got so sick of it. I couldn't sleep at night for fear of an officer finding me and giving me the boot out of town, and I started to get horrible chest pains. I remember crying in my car sitting outside the hospital wanting to go in so badly to have someone take care of me and let me lay down in a bed for awhile. I also knew that I'd be paying off that hospital visit for a long time to come. And somewhere inside me I also knew that my chest pains were only coming from stress. I didn't go in. I sucked it up as much as I could, and I lived out of my car from May until September and soon came to LOVE it. Truly, I mourned a little bit the day I moved into a house with a king-sized bed in my room. The bed was bigger than my car.
I'd do it again in the heartbeat. I'd have fears again. But is that what the Lord wants me to do? I dream of buying a bus and putting a few beds in there, traveling across country. But is that what the Lord wants me to do? I'd buy a huge tent and live on someone's farm out here in the Western Suburbs through the winter with the help of a wood burning stove, but is that what the Lord wants me to do? I am now having trouble deciphering if the voice of practicality is coming from God, or if it's fear in God's mask. If I take my fears head-on and overcome them, will I be overcoming my fears, or doing  a double whammy overcoming fear and overcoming God's desire for me right now.
I have NO doubt that His dreams for me are bigger than my own. I have no doubt that He is preparing me for a life of grandiosity one hundred times more full than I will ever imagine. But when do we start, God? I am sick of sitting around and waiting. A season of waiting is always healthy, but I am ready and willing to do, now. More than ever. More than EVER.
Maybe the question of "Why am I here?" That I've been asking since April is not the right question anymore. Perhaps I should be asking, "When and how do we start?".

The Art of Non-Conformity did not come off of the "Christian Inspiration" shelf, and doesn't have a God to answer to in chapter three. I do. I have a God to answer to. I don't HAVE to answer to him. But I want to. Alas- Here I am, all comfortable and warm in a suburban home, using wifi and drinking coffee made in the fully equipped kitchen. In a way, I am overcoming my fear. I fear stability and comfort in an odd way. How's that for backwards?
I feel like a kid on Christmas eve. I want to run downstairs and look under the tree, start opening all the gifts. But they're not ready yet. Tomorrow they'll be ready, and there will be twice as many if I wait patiently.

Now that I've taken all this time to talk about myself, I want to challenge you to overcome your fears. Dream really, really big! Don't ask for small stuff. The Giver of these gifts does not like to work with mediocre dreams. So dream it big, write it down, and start discerning what fears you must overcome. Get inspired. We are created in the image of One who never does anything mediocre. A wild, and out of this world desire is planted deeply in all of us. Don't fear the idea of it. Fear the idea of not doing it.

Snow.

I love the way the light softly shines through the windows when it snows.
I love how it drowns the noise when you walk out into it. All but footsteps are muted making that moment you step out into the snow feel like something magical is about to happen. Quiet anticipation warms my body.

Who's your god?

What other god sends himself into the realms of humanity to experience every. single hurt, sorrow, pain, joy, temptation, and struggle so that He can better relate and empathize with those He created? So that he can pave a way and say, "I've been there too, I understand". What other god?
What other god has grace so great for his people that would cause him to forgive all of them despite the fact that humanity is more than mildly imperfect?
What other god will come to you and tell you that He wants joy for you bigger than any joy you could possibly think up for yourself?
What other god doesn't just sit on a throne of mightiness and waits for us to come to him, but gets up and meets us where we are, amidst all the shit we find ourselves in?
What other god takes your dreams and then blows them up into this impossible, beautiful, magnificent dream and says that he wants to help you make THAT one, that BIG one happen for you?
I can't think of any. Not other than the God of Christ. He wants us to call him Father. That's a pretty intimate relationship there. That's not just King, Mighty One, God. He's all of those things, but also wants us to call him Father. As if everything else about his existence wasn't already mind-blowing enough.
"God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world." -C.S. Lewis.

If this is not the God you know, then I assure you that you don't know the right god. If this is not the God you know, I promise you that this is the God you want to know. I promise. I promise with every deep feeling in my heart.

Sometimes.

Sometimes I feel like the last in line and least important.