I fully intended on keeping up with this blog when I returned, but clearly that has not happened. It has been a year (+ a few days) since I have been back in the USA and nearly 10 months since my last post, but I will not bore you with the details of all my life's ups and downs since then. A lot has happened. I have been growing and learning more than I thought was possible in a short time. I am not sure what sort of form this blog will take, and to be honest, it sort of seems silly to continue it. However, I enjoy the creative process of writing and putting thoughts on a page too much to give it up, so my goal is to figure out something worthwhile about which to write ...
...Today at work a mother called me about her son. She was in tears over his addiction and wanted information about rehab facilities in the area. She gave me a little more information about his current state of affairs to better help me help her, and by the end of it I felt truly saddened. I try not to let the callers affect my mood, but this one touched me for some reason. I began thinking, "what would it take for my mom to call a help line about me"? Granted, I do not have an addiction that brings me to illegal activity, but I have my own share of issues.
Then I started thinking about addictions and their source. Like every other problem we face as sinful human individuals, it starts with the heart. What is broken in that child's heart that needs to be mended? And how does his heart become mended? Darkness engulfs both the unsuspecting and suspecting victims, and with it brings worry in all its selfish glory and so blinds us to reality. The reality being that we need not stay stuck in the dark. The reality is that there exists One True Light that, if you let Him, eradicates the dark. He flushes out the worry that so quickly adheres to and paralyzes the heart, soul, and mind, and He refills it with peace. If I hadn't encountered this mother's request at my job, I would have loved to talk to and explore this reality with her. Yes, I believe that her son needs to be admitted to an inpatient rehab facility. I also believe that his rehab will have very little lasting effects if his heart is not truly mended by and at rest in his Creator- the one who wants to lavish him with perfect unfailing love and who wants to show him light. The one who wants to heal him and seal him for life eternal.
Eventually, I began thinking about what paralyzes my heart and what causes me to act in ways in which I know are either hurtful to myself or others but mostly-- both. From what hurt does my heart need mending? From what do I need to let my Creator heal me? I don't have a definitive answer to these questions, but they are still worth asking nonetheless. Right now, the answer may be "nothing". And that is fine and good; however, I know that there will come a day when my answer will not be "nothing". We humans are good at keeping ourselves in the dog house of our souls until we feel like we are good and ready to finally be healed and cleansed from our problems, especially when they hurt others, like this child's addiction is hurting his mother. Well, that need not be the case. The less time we keep ourselves in our self-made dog houses, the sooner we can see the light and accept the forgiveness that our Creator is so freely offering. So tonight, I pray for that mother and her son. I pray that Light would come to them in the form of Jesus Christ and that they would be healed and that their hearts would be mended.
Peace, Joy, and prayers to you,
Sarah
Monday, July 28, 2014
Monday, September 23, 2013
Keep my Hands Open
Something else occurred to me a couple weeks ago. It was really late and I was sitting in my cozy little nook in my room writing in my prayer journal. I came to a certain subject that had me quite worked up emotionally and was just weighing too heavily on my mind and heart. I lifted the pen and started crying out to God. "Please, God, just take it away. I need you to just take it away," was my plea. How often do I ask God to do such a thing, but in reality I want him to change the situation so that it makes me more comfortable? How often do I ask God to control something, when really what I'm asking is for him to make it go 'my way'? How often do I ask God to take something, when all along I'm still the one that's clinging to it for dear life? And that's when it hit me.
I need to keep my hands open at all times.
The Lord gives, and he takes away. All the time he does this in our lives; it shapes us into the people he's called us to be. He may give us one thing for a little while, but then once its season has passed, he removes it. Other times, after he removes it, he brings it back once we're ready to handle it again. But all the while, we must keep our hands open; for, the things that he gives us -whether it be time, money, relationships, or any other good thing - still all belong to him!
If I try and clench my fists around something that he has blessed me with and deceive myself into thinking that it is allll mine...well it's going to be a lot more painful for me if and when the time comes for him to take it away. Have you ever tried to get free something in the tight fisted grasp of someone else, especially a small child? It can be a long painful process that is essentially unnecessary. It is especially unnecessary when the one who is trying to take it away has something better to put in its place! And that is what God does: He gives and takes away things in our lives at just the right times all for our GOOD.
What's more, say God takes something away and gives you something else; however, unbeknownst to you, later on he plans on returning it. Well, if we close our hands around whatever we're holding on to and claiming as our own, that leaves no space for God to continue giving new things or returning things that we once had because our hands are closed!
I want to be someone who always has my hands open ready to encounter God and to receive the things he wants to give and to freely let go of the things he want take. If I constantly have my hands open, blessings will flow much more smoothly. I think, that if my hands are open, then when it comes time for him to take something away, I'll be ready and it won't hurt as much- if at all. If I keep my hands open, then I think it will keep my heart open as well. An open heart is one that in all circumstances is ready to trust in and praise God and to love people. An open heart is one that is more easily molded to look like that of Christ, which leads to a clearer representation of the Gospel in this fallen and sinful world.
Needless to say, after this all hit me, my plea became, "Keep my hands open, Father. Please, just keep them wide open."
I hope this was as encouraging to someone else as it was to me.
Blessings to you!
Sarah
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Changes in Excitement...
Today is the second time that I have started to compose a post...the first post after returning to the US. However, it is probably about the fiftieth time that compelling ideas and topics have come into my mind and, after having digested them awhile, had the resolving notion of, "I think I'll put that in my next blog post." Well, it's been nearly two months since I've been back, and I'm just now getting around to it...
My journey home from Austria was highly segmented, I feel... First there was leaving Hollabrunn and saying 'aufwiedersehen' to the Gehrings. Then there was leaving Vienna and flying into Dublin. Then there was the long bus ride (with WiFi!) from Dublin all the way up to Coleraine, Northern Ireland (NI). Then there was being reunited with Jillian. Then there was meeting all of the CSSM team members. Then there was the two weeks of "working," a.k.a going to the beach, playing circle games, and having water fights and messy quizzes, with 13-17 year old students and sharing with them about Jesus all whilst bonding with aforementioned team members. Then there was the end of the team and taking down the tents and getting to see Lauren and Andy. Then there was the New Horizon conference (amazing free christian conference in NI) and seeing Gareth and Chad and some more member of the CSSM team. Then there was the day in Belfast. Then there was the bus journey from Belfast to Dublin. Then there was the flight from Dublin to Chicago. Then there was surprising my parents by entering from another direction but then their own little surprise directed right back at me in the form of Jessi! Then there was my first supper and round of expository conversation at Chipotle. And, finally, there was the ever so familiar 2.5 hour drive from the Chicago suburbs to Dunlap and all its corn and soybean fields and, of course, my cute little white house.
During all of these segments, my head was all abuzz with all sorts of things. To say that I was missing people and places at each stage would be an understatement. To say that I was wishing that everyone could just fit into my suitcase would not do them enough justice. To say that I was becoming more uncertain and excited and slightly anxious about returning to America would not even begin to scratch the surface. I was about to come back to a place that I hadn't called home in eleven months, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. There were a lot of unknowns in nearly every category of my life. How had people changed? Were people going to understand me or at least try to? Was I going to cry a lot? When was I going to find a job and start paying for stuff? What church was I going to go to? How was I going to keep in touch with all of these people hours and an ocean apart, and who was going to make an effort in keeping in touch with me? How would it be living at home with my parents again, when I hadn't for basically five years? And, most importantly, after changing positively in certain ways while being away, were those changes going to stick now that I was back? All of these questions and more floated in and out out my mind all throughout the culmination of my time abroad. Sometimes I stayed on them long enough and tried to come up with workable solutions, or in some instances the many steps to a final solution. Now, after almost two months, I do have some answers. Some...
People had changed, but not dramatically. Dramatic is a word better used to describe the changes in certain circumstances rather than certain people.
Some people understand me and some don't, but most of them at least try.
I did cry, but not a lot; there were also those times that I wished I could cry but couldn't - such a girl thing.
I got a part-time job at a clothing store, which I actually really enjoy; I'm still applying for full-time jobs.
I decided, as of a few days ago, that I'm staying at Peoria First Nazarene and helping out with the youth group and possibly music stuff too! Yay!
I got a smart phone the day after I got back with lots of fun (and free) chatting and messaging apps.
Being twenty-three and living with your parents has it's ups and downs, but I'm trying to focus on the positives, of which there are indeed many.
All the rest, I just try and take a day at a time.
About two weeks ago I think I was starting to crack at the seams. Someone asked me, for the hundredth time, "Are you excited to be home?" I gave what was probably an unconvincing "yeah" as my answer, but the real answer was a resounding "NO". That word, 'excited', and all its variations are no longer what I use to describe being back, and it hasn't been for a good while. I think the 'excitement' wore off after about a week or two into my new job. Don't misunderstand - I like my job just fine, but the novelty has worn off, and so lately all my life had really consisted of was going to work and being at home doing...well, not a whole lot. I hadn't seen a lot of my friends all that much, unsure of their new schedules and being to lazy to ask, which is clearly my own fault. I felt like I had all this energy and motivation to do stuff with people but no where to expel it, which was then in turn draining me, making my true extroversion shine. And then things started looking up. All in the span of one weekend. Lauren gave me a good life coaching session and then later that night I met up with her and Caroline and a couple new faces at a pub. Then there was the Pumpkin Festival and seeing more good friends...you get the picture. People were coming back into my life. I realize that I won't get to see everyone as much as I'd like to or as much as I used to, and that's okay. I just have to make the most, even more, of the times when I do get to see them. And now, finally, there is the excitement of committing to and getting involved in my church. I feel blessed with the opportunity, and I know God's got big things in store.
There's no doubt: Life was EXCITING in Austria and in NI. But it is here too... It's just different, that's all. And different isn't always bad; I, of all people, should know that by now.
Until the next time...
Sarah
My journey home from Austria was highly segmented, I feel... First there was leaving Hollabrunn and saying 'aufwiedersehen' to the Gehrings. Then there was leaving Vienna and flying into Dublin. Then there was the long bus ride (with WiFi!) from Dublin all the way up to Coleraine, Northern Ireland (NI). Then there was being reunited with Jillian. Then there was meeting all of the CSSM team members. Then there was the two weeks of "working," a.k.a going to the beach, playing circle games, and having water fights and messy quizzes, with 13-17 year old students and sharing with them about Jesus all whilst bonding with aforementioned team members. Then there was the end of the team and taking down the tents and getting to see Lauren and Andy. Then there was the New Horizon conference (amazing free christian conference in NI) and seeing Gareth and Chad and some more member of the CSSM team. Then there was the day in Belfast. Then there was the bus journey from Belfast to Dublin. Then there was the flight from Dublin to Chicago. Then there was surprising my parents by entering from another direction but then their own little surprise directed right back at me in the form of Jessi! Then there was my first supper and round of expository conversation at Chipotle. And, finally, there was the ever so familiar 2.5 hour drive from the Chicago suburbs to Dunlap and all its corn and soybean fields and, of course, my cute little white house.
During all of these segments, my head was all abuzz with all sorts of things. To say that I was missing people and places at each stage would be an understatement. To say that I was wishing that everyone could just fit into my suitcase would not do them enough justice. To say that I was becoming more uncertain and excited and slightly anxious about returning to America would not even begin to scratch the surface. I was about to come back to a place that I hadn't called home in eleven months, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. There were a lot of unknowns in nearly every category of my life. How had people changed? Were people going to understand me or at least try to? Was I going to cry a lot? When was I going to find a job and start paying for stuff? What church was I going to go to? How was I going to keep in touch with all of these people hours and an ocean apart, and who was going to make an effort in keeping in touch with me? How would it be living at home with my parents again, when I hadn't for basically five years? And, most importantly, after changing positively in certain ways while being away, were those changes going to stick now that I was back? All of these questions and more floated in and out out my mind all throughout the culmination of my time abroad. Sometimes I stayed on them long enough and tried to come up with workable solutions, or in some instances the many steps to a final solution. Now, after almost two months, I do have some answers. Some...
People had changed, but not dramatically. Dramatic is a word better used to describe the changes in certain circumstances rather than certain people.
Some people understand me and some don't, but most of them at least try.
I did cry, but not a lot; there were also those times that I wished I could cry but couldn't - such a girl thing.
I got a part-time job at a clothing store, which I actually really enjoy; I'm still applying for full-time jobs.
I decided, as of a few days ago, that I'm staying at Peoria First Nazarene and helping out with the youth group and possibly music stuff too! Yay!
I got a smart phone the day after I got back with lots of fun (and free) chatting and messaging apps.
Being twenty-three and living with your parents has it's ups and downs, but I'm trying to focus on the positives, of which there are indeed many.
All the rest, I just try and take a day at a time.
About two weeks ago I think I was starting to crack at the seams. Someone asked me, for the hundredth time, "Are you excited to be home?" I gave what was probably an unconvincing "yeah" as my answer, but the real answer was a resounding "NO". That word, 'excited', and all its variations are no longer what I use to describe being back, and it hasn't been for a good while. I think the 'excitement' wore off after about a week or two into my new job. Don't misunderstand - I like my job just fine, but the novelty has worn off, and so lately all my life had really consisted of was going to work and being at home doing...well, not a whole lot. I hadn't seen a lot of my friends all that much, unsure of their new schedules and being to lazy to ask, which is clearly my own fault. I felt like I had all this energy and motivation to do stuff with people but no where to expel it, which was then in turn draining me, making my true extroversion shine. And then things started looking up. All in the span of one weekend. Lauren gave me a good life coaching session and then later that night I met up with her and Caroline and a couple new faces at a pub. Then there was the Pumpkin Festival and seeing more good friends...you get the picture. People were coming back into my life. I realize that I won't get to see everyone as much as I'd like to or as much as I used to, and that's okay. I just have to make the most, even more, of the times when I do get to see them. And now, finally, there is the excitement of committing to and getting involved in my church. I feel blessed with the opportunity, and I know God's got big things in store.
There's no doubt: Life was EXCITING in Austria and in NI. But it is here too... It's just different, that's all. And different isn't always bad; I, of all people, should know that by now.
Until the next time...
Sarah
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