. . So I pray
Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings
You glory And I know there'll
be days When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to
praise You Jesus, bring the rain.
- "Bring the Rain" by MercyMe
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
j-thoughts
If there's one thing this journalism stuff has taught me, it's how many crazy people there are in this world. But one of the best things about it is how I get to tell their stories too. I like to think of journalism as the great equalizer: we can tell the stories of the big people and of the little people. It isn't a perfect trade, and there's plenty of things wrong with it, but the principles still stand.
Bottom line? I love it.
Bottom line? I love it.
Monday, July 09, 2007
i'm always learning crazy things
God never promised happiness, but He did promise contentedness.
Maybe the latter is enough. Maybe it's more than enough.
Maybe the latter is enough. Maybe it's more than enough.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
throwing off the bowlines
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
- Mark Twain
I was reading a good friend and mentor's blog today and she has this quote as one of her entries, below a story she wrote about when she really began living life out loud, her junior year in college. She was in Europe, studying abroad, and she bought a pass that lets you travel from country to country in Europe, called a Eurail pass. It was expensive, but she reasoned that she'd never get the chance to do it again. It was a risk worth taking.
I'm trying to reinvent myself, because I'm kind of sick of this kind of Sarah. I'm turning back into the Sarah I left in Illinois when I first left for Missouri, 23 months ago. I loved the new Sarah, but her life needed more than just a facelift. My life needs plastic surgery, from the inside out.
I'm craving some real, genuine rest and joy and fun and peace. And I think I need to take a journey to track it down . . .
- Mark Twain
I was reading a good friend and mentor's blog today and she has this quote as one of her entries, below a story she wrote about when she really began living life out loud, her junior year in college. She was in Europe, studying abroad, and she bought a pass that lets you travel from country to country in Europe, called a Eurail pass. It was expensive, but she reasoned that she'd never get the chance to do it again. It was a risk worth taking.
I'm trying to reinvent myself, because I'm kind of sick of this kind of Sarah. I'm turning back into the Sarah I left in Illinois when I first left for Missouri, 23 months ago. I loved the new Sarah, but her life needed more than just a facelift. My life needs plastic surgery, from the inside out.
I'm craving some real, genuine rest and joy and fun and peace. And I think I need to take a journey to track it down . . .
Saturday, July 07, 2007
my plant analogy
I wrote this five days ago and never posted it . . .
My mom has several plants in the corner in front of the kitchen sink. They all get plenty of light there, but some grow faster than others. One green ivy-like plant grows the fastest of them all. My mom transferred one of the smaller parts of it into a small flowerpot, maybe the size of my fist. I asked if I could keep it in my room.
Sometimes I water it; sometimes I don’t. I guess that’s responsibility in its most elementary form: giving a growing thing the sustenance it needs.
Most of the plant seems happy. Most of the leaves are the color of Kermit the Frog. But there’s this one leaf that doesn’t seem to catch onto the idea; it’s brown and shriveling. I want it to fit in and be like the other leaves. The plant is doing well; why does that one leaf have to bring the rest of the plant down?
Sometimes my life feels like that. Most of me is centered on what’s important: on Jesus, on loving others, on building relationships. But there’s often one leaf -- one part of me -- that drags the rest of me down. It’s the leaf that worries too much, that thinks about itself too much, that stares at the mirror more than at my heart, the leaf that talks too much, the leaf that talks too little.
I want to get out my Fiskars scissors and clip off that one crumbling leaf. It’s bringing the rest of the plant down.
But then I remember why I water this plant. I water it to keep the green leaves green, but mainly, I water it in hopes of saving this rather miserable-looking leaf. If there isn’t room for improvement, then what’s to push us past status quo?
Sometimes when I re-read things I wrote a while ago, I dislike them. That's why I just decided to post this and not re-read it.
In other new, have I ever mentioned how much I hate yelling? And pessimism?
My mom has several plants in the corner in front of the kitchen sink. They all get plenty of light there, but some grow faster than others. One green ivy-like plant grows the fastest of them all. My mom transferred one of the smaller parts of it into a small flowerpot, maybe the size of my fist. I asked if I could keep it in my room.
Sometimes I water it; sometimes I don’t. I guess that’s responsibility in its most elementary form: giving a growing thing the sustenance it needs.
Most of the plant seems happy. Most of the leaves are the color of Kermit the Frog. But there’s this one leaf that doesn’t seem to catch onto the idea; it’s brown and shriveling. I want it to fit in and be like the other leaves. The plant is doing well; why does that one leaf have to bring the rest of the plant down?
Sometimes my life feels like that. Most of me is centered on what’s important: on Jesus, on loving others, on building relationships. But there’s often one leaf -- one part of me -- that drags the rest of me down. It’s the leaf that worries too much, that thinks about itself too much, that stares at the mirror more than at my heart, the leaf that talks too much, the leaf that talks too little.
I want to get out my Fiskars scissors and clip off that one crumbling leaf. It’s bringing the rest of the plant down.
But then I remember why I water this plant. I water it to keep the green leaves green, but mainly, I water it in hopes of saving this rather miserable-looking leaf. If there isn’t room for improvement, then what’s to push us past status quo?
Sometimes when I re-read things I wrote a while ago, I dislike them. That's why I just decided to post this and not re-read it.
In other new, have I ever mentioned how much I hate yelling? And pessimism?
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Meredith Gray
I decided your life seems so much cooler if you pretend you're on a TV show. Think about all the cool plot lines we could all make out of our lives! Trouble is, I'm not constantly surrounded by sexy doctors, but you know what, I'll take what I can get.
At the end of the year, during our last Bible Study, Andrea and I had our girls write themselves letters, about things they wanted to remember, and we're sending these letters out now. I'm writing a letter of my own to go inside them, and I'm realizing how much I miss them. That's one of the many things this past year -- this past semester -- has taught me, is how quickly someone can become a part of your life, and what a shock it can be when that all gets erased in a matter of days. You go from seeing someone almost every day to talking to them once every other week, if you're lucky. It's kind of devastating.
And, if I were Meredith Gray, I would say the above aloud, and then be able to link it to every character in my show through a series of clips of each one of them doing surgery or making out (because those are the two things they seem to do most frequently). Good thing I'm not Meredith; I think that narration would piss off my family after a while.
At the end of the year, during our last Bible Study, Andrea and I had our girls write themselves letters, about things they wanted to remember, and we're sending these letters out now. I'm writing a letter of my own to go inside them, and I'm realizing how much I miss them. That's one of the many things this past year -- this past semester -- has taught me, is how quickly someone can become a part of your life, and what a shock it can be when that all gets erased in a matter of days. You go from seeing someone almost every day to talking to them once every other week, if you're lucky. It's kind of devastating.
And, if I were Meredith Gray, I would say the above aloud, and then be able to link it to every character in my show through a series of clips of each one of them doing surgery or making out (because those are the two things they seem to do most frequently). Good thing I'm not Meredith; I think that narration would piss off my family after a while.
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