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.

Spare me.

Do you ever cry and not know why?
I talk about melancholy a lot, and sadness a lot. I've written about how sadness can be good, and that we should learn to feel it all. But yesterday was different. It was a sadness that felt horrible to have. It was different than melancholy, or even grief.
I walked into Trader Joes shaking with at pit in my stomach, and as soon as I walked out onto the floor to clock in my eyes started to mist and the crying would not stop. For what reason? What was wrong? I didn't quite know how to explain that to anyone who was asking me. I just know that I couldn't stop crying for about an hour. A snotty, red-eye, wet face cry.
Depression. Inexplicable depression. My life feels small and meaningless right now.
But I am here for good reason. I am here because I feel I need to be right now and that should be reason enough. Suck it up. Right?
No. God doesn't tell us to suck it up. He guides us through hardships in our lives, and asks us to make sacrifices sometimes, but would never ask us to lose our joy and suck it up. Never. God's greatest joy is for us to live fully and joyfully. And when we DO make those sacrifices he asks us to it is in the name of finding that joy He knows we can have, that life that makes us feel full. This sadness is not right. This sadness connects to something that is... wrong, I suppose.
I feel slightly defeated. I live in a broken world, but must I go through this cycle of unhappiness my whole life? Is that all I have to look forward to? Joy and then sadness, followed by joy, and then sadness again. It's hard on the soul, this overwhelming joy followed my a hot sadness. The two extremes are causing me to  break. Lord Jesus, if this is the life I have to live on this Earth then take me to heaven. Please. Spare me from this turmoil.
But He stops me, tells me to rest my soul, and reminds me there is SO much more to look forward to on this Earth. My sadness is nudging me to take a few steps forward.
What I really want to do is quit my job, quit my responsibilities, and take a month off of life to do what I fully enjoy. But I can't for now. I am where I am, but all is not lost because of that. I am where I am and God meets me there. With Him he brings Joy.

The swallowing and wallowing.

There is nothing profound in this post. There is nothing thoughtful in this post. This post will most likely be full of my whining and questioning.
Why? Why? Why am I here?
Once again (because it's happened a zillion times over and over since I've been here starting in April) I find myself being swallowed up in a depression hole of meaningless suburban life. The only thing that's going to feel good is to cry myself to sleep tonight, or quit my job and move across the country to where most of my surroundings bring me life.
Every day I start to feel sick to my stomach and I can't pin it to anything other than my emotions manifesting themselves in my gut.
Every time I am invited to hang out with people who I could be making friendships with I pass to curl up in my bed.
Where a tidy room once was, there are now about four piles of clothes that I don't care to do anything about. Normally I love organization.
Normally I have more days to myself. But I felt like I had to push myself into some sort of transformation or growth since I am in the life-sucking suburbs, so now instead of ever actually having a day to rest and organize, I pack two meals a day and rush out the door after breakfast for different things I have committed myself to.
And when do I get a real vacation again? Next month. I am SO looking forward to it, but I can't live month-by-month. Weekend-to-weekend. Day off to day off.
I want to live fully every day. But right now it doesn't feel full in the right sense of the word. Full. Full means busy right now. What I want full to mean is life-giving. I don't see that happening. Tidbits of time with my family I feel life breathing itself back into me. But where is my life? What happened to it? What do I have to live for or look forward to? When am I going to get out of here? Every day hurts me a little more. Every day the pain in the pit of my stomach hurts. One of these days I wish I could really just get bed-ridden sick so I could take a few days off of this life and think about what the hell is it that I'm doing.


When I'm in Colorado everything feels right. I fit there like a missing piece to a puzzle. I love the air. The beauty. The colors of the trees. I love the seasons, the length of each season, I love the wild animals you can see running in the distance, or even close up. I love that bluegrass is everywhere. I love the people I know there. I love the people I don't know there. I love seeing a Westfalia nearly ever day. I love the way the dry air makes my hair feel softer. I love the long, sunny winters, and I love how much I hate the wind. I love that everyone has something out there. I love that everyone loves what they are doing with their life and where they are. I love that I love cloudy days THAT much more out there, and I love that I love Illinois THAT much more when I got to be but a visitor. I love that driving anywhere is a pleasure. I love that there is something to do no matter what when you are that close to the mountains. I love that I don't have to worry about tornadoes in the mountains. I love that everyone is so much more environmentally conscious by nature. I love that I feel so at home there.
I hate that I am so far away.

Today I feel just a little bit hopeless. That's no fun.

My Strong One

The yellow from the trees light the Earth when the sky is dark.
Blue deepens with waves of grey and rests heavily atop the trees ablaze.
My eyes turn down and rest just the same. They rest on my heart. Then my heart sings ablaze.
I see Creation echo His heart. His image is in me, and I am His art.
It surrounds me, unfolds me, reflects me, and molds me.
A greater joy, I have none, than to create along side my Creator.
My Strong One.

Melancholy

Since childhood I've known that melancholy holds me.
It's a tear which cradles my soul and a grey that consumes me.
From this tear, from this grey,  light shines out with much to say.

The summer sunshine drips with joy,
Spring colors excite our souls,
Winter snow waters reflection.
But Autumn, here, reflects me close.

The gloomy sky looks deep into my eye,
It dampens the Earth and in reflection, I cry.
But darkness is not what these tears want to bring;
It's colors far brighter, far more vibrant than spring.

From a salty cheek my own colors grow.
Just as Autmn's gloom sets in, the trees prepare a show.
They set themselves on fire with passion and fervor,
even as they sit so still,
so strong,
they sing a deepness in their song.

Through the leaves, through the trees, the gre sky and soggy evenings,
My soul reflects the contrast of this Earth in grey Autumn seasons.
Once again I find myself in a melancholy world,
feeding off the chill for a melancholy soul.

As it goes

As the leaves dip themselves into colors of passion,
so does my passion come alive.
As the sky lowers and deepens with melencholy,
so does my joy come alive.

As the Earth turns,
As the Earth changes,
As the seasons sadden beneath the sky,
Still I am His, and He is mine.

Divinity.

Bad attitude. That is what I have had for the last two weeks. A serious bad attitude. Some people saw it and others couldn't even tell, but inside I was screaming. Have you ever been to Ed Debevic's in Chicago? It's that restaurant where the servers are mean to you. It's a novelty here. It's a thing and people love it. I so wish Trader Joe's could have been an Ed Debevic's of sorts. I would have been in prime condition for a job like that.
Instead I bit my tongue and smiled. Smile.
Joy, though, joy is there even in my unhappiness. It rests upon me and seeps through me. It's the joy from my Lord, and I thank Him times a million for it. He knows my every need, and He knows just how to provide what I need with impeccable timing.

This week I was supposed to be in Moab, Utah doing adventurous things feeding my soul in the ways I thought my soul needed feeding. I was going to be on the open road again pushing my body to new limits and feeling hella good about it. Then, something kind of crappy happened. I felt that tinge, that gut instinct which I actually now refer to as God (because, well, that's who puts that there) tell me not to go. No Moab! I couldn't wait to go to Moab. I love the desert, and I love riding my bike, and I love road trips and hostels and new people! Also, the man who quit money lives outside of Moab. Finding him may or may not have been on my list of things to do. Okay it was. I was going to stalk him like I stalk everyone who owns a Westy. I can't help myself. But I knew there was no stalking to be had ever sine I listened to that inkling and cancelled my Moab trip.
Pray for something else, God said. I think that's the first time (or at least the first time I realized) God nudging me to pray for something like that. I didn't hesitate. I prayed every day for something to take the place of Moab because I needed it. I desperately needed it.

A couple of weeks went by when Kimberly told me about at art conference called Story that she had been accepted to volunteer for in the city nestled right in those days I had requested off work for Moab. Kimberly couldn't make the conference happen even though she really wanted to, and worked it out to where I could volunteer for her and go to the conference for free.

Even when the day came, I hopped on the train to the city and settled into my hostel, I had no idea what I was doing. Ben Arment, the director of Story, had a little huddle with us all the night before the conference started to tell us a bit about how things were going to work. I listened very intently; I wasn't even sure what my job was on the day I started working it. What I ended up doing was one of the most life-giving things I could have been involved with at Story.

Story is an art conference for Christians. There are Christian speakers and the whole thing is centered around Christ and around art. I hesitate to say Christian art, though. I don't even think that's a thing. Actually, I can save that for another blog post. Everything was beautiful there. The artwork, the performers, the music. I cannot even begin to describe the artistry that went into creating this event. Every piece of it was for the glory of God, and I think that's a lot of what made it so beautiful to me.
Anne Lamott was there speaking, too! I love her books, her voice, her writing, her raw self. She's inspiring and she was there. That would be my highlight, I thought. Anne would be my highlight, and my hostel alone-time would be my highlight. The part in-between sessions where (this was my job) I had to try and connect with the people who came to Story alone was going to drain me too much. I was scared that I wouldn't come through and that I would be a disappointment to the team. So I prayed for God to fill me what what I needed to succeed in this place.

Wow, did He fill me. Remember how God knows exactly what we need and exactly how to fill that need with perfect timing? That is what happened in these three days I spend in Chicago. The speakers were not my highlight. The alone-time was not my highlight. My highlight was connecting with the beautiful people and the amazing minds of the people who came from around the WORLD to meet together in this place for Story. Finally I was surrounded by like-minded people. I had forgotten that God made me an artist, and while I was off trying to be an athlete He was begging me to remember that I am, yes, an athlete, but I am also so much an artist. He has been begging me to create.

But God doen't just fill you. No, He doen't stop at the fill line by any means. He looks at that fill line and says, "I can fit so much more in there, and then I'll just let it flood out". Floods. Floods of blessings.
The encouragement I received from Ben, the director, and the fellow volunteers at story gave me tears. The people I met gave me hope that there are others like me out there in a place where I have felt so alone.

And then Timbre. First of all, look her up. She's an amazing harpist and a beautiful soul. I met Timbre in line for ice cream at the end of the Story conference. We talked for a minute but I couldn't concentrate on what we were talking about; this thing inside me kept telling me to ask her something, but I felt stupid asking her out of the blue. I wanted to ask her if she knew anyone out in Seattle... so I did. I rattled off names of people I knew out there. I didn't know if this girl had ever been to Seattle, I didn't know if this girl would think I was joking when I started saying random travel names, but I took a chance and to my GREAT joy Timbre knew every person I named off and had traveled with them. Only a very dear person knows people with names like Okiedoke and Cricket. We have more friends in common than we realized. She and I were shocked and pleased and giddy with excitement about our connection. What a weird thing to happen.

We talked and talked, and suddenly Timbre asked if I had vivid dreams. Vivid dreams? Yes, actually, I often have vivid dreams. "Sarah," she said, "I feel like the Lord wants me to tell you a few things", so Timbre went on to give me encouragement in things she had no idea I was doubting myself in. She prayed for me in ways that no one would have known to pray for me in. She lifted me up in the spots that no one knew I felt most weak in. And she told me things that only God would know.
This is the truth: God speaks through us in art, in affection, in feelings, but also in words from other people. Prophets? Yeah, they're you and me. They're Timbre. They are the people who are open to God enough to hear what God has to say and bold enough to repeat it.

There are a lot of things that are uplifting and beautiful that you can find in the secular world. There are a lot of ways to feel blessed. But to be open to and living in God's spiritual world as well has got to be the most incredible thing. The way that Timbre came into my life at that time, and the things she said was truly only something God could have orchestrated. Even as you read this and think "that's cool" or maybe you think, "that's creepy", I don't know, I will never be able to express how deep a joy it gives me.
He knows the depths of your heart, and He knows just how to weave together a tapestry of experiences that please you in a way no one would understand. He wants to give you an experience that is specialized to you. It's frustrating for me in a way not to be able to get anyone to understand how much joy that interaction brought to me, but it also feels so special because it's one of those things that God only understands. It's between me and Him. It's our thing. Timbre won't even know the depths of what that moment did for me. That is something you don't get without a God. And when I get to experience those things I know there is Divinity at work around us all the time.

Mike and I walked in the dark, chilly, Chicago rain to our bus that would take us to the Metra. I just met Mike that day but I had the greatest four, five, six, however long it was that it took us to get from Park Church to the Suburbs via feet, bus, and train. It was a long time. Between singing DC Talk, quoting Homestarrunner, and experiencing the out-of-control homeless man throwing things at the windows from outside the station, it flew by too fast. What a top-notch way to end a phenomenal weekend.

Now I realize. I finally got to experience the divinity of Spiritual community. Nowhere in this broken world can a stranger walk up to you and know things about you no one else would know, and encourage you in places you most need to be encouraged. But that is how my Divine Maker does it. That is why just normal human community is not enough, but with God it's bigger than enough. Not only is it enough but it's delightful beyond measure.
God's dreams for us are tenfold times anything we could ever dream up for ourselves. Sometimes you have to die to yourself to let God get those dreams rolling, though. That's why I'm here. That's why I'm in Wheaton.

Let there be

Boy, am I technologically challenged. I know I've said it before. I've left it on voice messages without even knowing it. But today I realized just how technologically challenged I am.
I am at an art conference in Chicago called Story. It is here that realization came clear to me and my iPhone-less hand. How do you download an app? You can MAKE apps? How many people here are talking about making their own videos? You can do that? I can't even get the paragraph spacing right on my blog.
I will admit that this place has made me hate technology less. Okay. It's made me see that it's not all consumerism and bad. It can be used to glorify God in various art forms. Here it is used with glory and not glorified. There we go, a healthy balance indeed.
But that's not what I want to talk about. Kinda'.


I have written quite a few posts on this here technological machinery about God's creation, his artwork, and us as his greatest artwork. I have tried to convey the amount of joy he must find in us as his greatest piece of art. Think of your most prized work as an artist. Think of the fondness you feel towards that thing, and then think of how much more so God feels that towards us as this planet... this universe.
My feelings and thoughts towards this skyrocketed into a whole new level of understanding today as one of the speakers conveyed something at Story. Here's a little background on what he was trying to say-

We take thoughts and we can make them tangible. We can make them into things. We are the only species who can take a dream and make it a reality. The rabbit thinks "hungry" and eats some grass. Although I may never truly know what a rabbit is actually thinking, that is basically all that comes from his thoughts when he's hungry.

What about when we are hungry? The God-breathed, made-in-His-image species that the Lord created. It depends on what we're hungry for, but whatever it is we create it. We imagine, dream, think, conspire, and then create it. We make something that was once intangible into something great. Some of us make gourmet food for our physical hunger. Some of us create businesses or charity's because we want to see justice in the world. Some of us make sculptures or mosaics to speak from our own hearts to others hearts. And some of us write words. For what? Sometimes I still don't know. But if it's a God-given desire then dammit, I'm going to exercise that.
We are the only species with this gift. Yes, beavers build dams. Have you ever seen one of those things? They're amazing. But they all build dams. They do it out of instinct and they do it out of survival. Each and every one of the creations that come out of us is different. They are individualized to who we are. That's a hellofalot better than a beaver dam.

What an amazing, bountiful, inexplicable honor it is to have such a huge gift: Creativity. Look around you; creativity is God's thing, man. And look at how he did it? He spoke and said, "Let there be..", and there it was. He anointed us with that power- The minds for creativity and the power to say, "let it be".

That is an important and HUGE gift! Don't squander it. Don't bury it. And don't use it with mediocrity. Do not, I tell you, use it with mediocrity. Do you think the Lord did anything mediocre? Let's see, "That human kind of sucks, but he's good enough I guess. Eh, we'll keep him. Let it be". Sounds like God.
That's not the kind of Let It Be he gave us the power to use. That Let It Be gift he let us have is a gift that lets our passions be inside of us and around us, in both the intangible and tangible worlds. That is truly a mind-blowing conception.


Guys, create. That's all.