I'm a Quasi-veggie, Chocolate-loving, Everything-itarian

Despite the fact that I just ate 2/3 of the Dove Dark Chocolate with Almonds I received in my Christmas stocking (I do still get those! Don't pretend you're too grown-up for a stocking), I do like to eat pretty well.

But.
Although I have experimented with varying ways of eating, cutting out specific foods is not something that works in my life. For several reasons, very few of which are relevant to this particular post. Still, I find myself delving into the vegetarian side of life more and more as of late.

I like meat. It isn't that.But for me, the most compelling reason I ever would become a vegetarian if I did is because it requires many pounds of grain to produce just one pound of meat. More people can be fed on a plant-based diet than on a stereotypically American one (that is, a diet that stresses meat as the main dish. The fact that so many people in our world (even our country and our city) continue to go hungry, coupled with the fact that I want serve many people many meals at my house is a motivating factor for me.

But, like I said, I'm not interested in completely cutting out specific foods. As the wife of a youth pastor, I attend church dinners, meals with friends, and parents of "my kids." I sometimes receive gift cards to go out to eat with my husband, and I provide quick meals for meetings. There are sometimes vegetarian options during those occasions (and of course, sometimes I will choose those options), but they are not always the most resourceful options, in regard to health, price, or enjoyment.

And honestly, sometimes hard and fast rules drain some of the joy out of life. For me.

With all of that in mind, there will be many vegetarian meals served in my home. Like the meal I cooked up two nights ago: vegan chili. I didn't take a picture, because the end result is not particularly photogenic, but it is delicious! I asked my husband if the meal was too hippy-ish, and he said no, so I'm going to take his word for it and make it again. Mostly because the whole pot was gone in a matter of two days. In the pot:
-a little olive oil, heated
-a few cloves of garlic, minced, and 1 1/2 onions diced. I sauteed those in the hot oil on medium-low-ish eat until soft
-then I threw in a can of diced tomatoes with mild chilis, two cans of drained and rinsed black beans, a can of drained and rinsed kidney beans, chili powder, and cumin.

I let all of that simmer and then crushed some falafel chips from my recent trip to Whole Foods with Katie. Those were not cheap, but any hearty tortilla chip, or even saltines, would work just as well.

And in the spirit of saving money, I came across this freebie. If you're interested in some free stevia packets, just scroll down to the bottom right-hand side of the page and click on "Free 50-count Box" to get started.

New Year's Resolutions

Most years, I don't make New Year's Resolutions.
This year is a little different. You might have guessed that after reading the title of this post.

This year, Tim and I bought a house. On December 31, we move in to the neighborhood where my church is located, a neighborhood where I want to get to know people and get involved. A neighborhood where some kids don't eat meals with the exception of the weekly family dinner that takes place at the church.

I've been doing a lot of brainstorming and a lot of daydreaming.
When I picture my dream life, I see people in and out of my house all the time. In the kitchen, the living room, the dining room. There are neighborhood kids, my own children, friends, and people who just need a break from the life that they ordinarily live. Mostly, those people sit around a table and are fed with food. But there is so much more that happens around that table. Magic happens there.

Imagine what it feels like when you sit around and share a meal with people who you know love you. It's magic. Some people have no idea what that feels like, but I want those people to find it at my house.

My house is going to become a place full of hot meals, games, laughter, love, and peace. That is my New Year's Resolution.

So. This blog is going to change a little bit.

Over the next year, I am planning on blogging my adventures in feeding...everyone. I'll be writing about creating yummy, nutritious meals on a budget, coming up with resources for all those meals,sharing my successful (and sometimes unsuccessful recipes), talking about hurdles and joys, and posting about freebies and promotions I find (because I know I'm not the only one who'll be looking for a good bargain in the coming year!).


Happy New Year to you.
May it be a year of peace, joy, and new adventures.

Four years ago, my boyfriend was working as a construction worker, makinglots of money.

Then he proposed to me.


Then he accepted a job a youth pastor, making a lot less money.
And I jumped up and down, squealing that my dreams were coming true.

A few months ago, I decided that I couldn't take on any more commitments and do well at everything I am already signed up for.
And then we bought a house.
I'm feeling a little drained.
But.
I'm not much of a squealer any more. I'm a planner.
I've been planning things like what kinds of pancake toppings to keep on hand and how I can keep things simple so I can have lots of people over often.
Because my dreams are coming true.

In one of my dreams, my home is a place where people come to find peace and rest. They come to get their hearts, spirits, and tummies filled up. The house is always full of the smells of something delicious cooking, and a new memory is always on the horizon.

Sometimes the food isn't fancy, because at my house, we feed everyone. Even if that means we are out of grocery money. But everyone leaves feeling loved. And full. In more ways than one.

Apple for the Teacher

Today I found myself in the only shop within walking distance of my office that I thought might sell me an apple. I did end up finding apples there, but it was a granny smith, certainly not my favorite kind.


I took a drink and an apple to the cash register, and while the man behind the counter was ringing me up, he asked if I was Hispanic. I told him no, and he went on to tell me that he thought I was, and that I look "mixed." Another woman working there laughed and assured him that I probably knew if I was or wasn't, and we all laughed about the fact that we're all mixes of something and it might very well be true that a little bit of Hispanic blood runs through my veins.

I left the store smiling. You know, the kind of smile you can't stop yourself from smiling. The kind of smile that feels like sunshine on a spring day or a hug from someone you love who also happens to be wearing a sweatshirt. I know I probably don't look Hispanic at all; no one else has ever told me that. But maybe my students are getting into my skin, maybe they're part of the glow that shows up in recent pictures.

I am in love with my students. While the transition to my job has been difficult, I am glad for it, because my time with my students has resulted in love for the people of Reading. I don't feel intimidated like I would have previously. I don't feel annoyed because of the reputation that comes with the name. I feel like some people living here just need someone to listen. I feel like some people living here have beautiful hearts, and some people just need a hand. I feel like I am in love.

I feel elated that somewhat might even think that I am "one of them."

And I feel like that was one of the best apples I've had in a long time.

Happy Monday

It's a great day here in Crazy Town.


I love Mondays.
Oops.Let me rephrase that.

I love the beginning of anything. I'm a fan of the beginning of a "new" month, week, year, project, or recipe. There's just so much possibility in the start of something new. (Am I being a little too sunny for a Monday morning? Please feel free to plug your ears and hum as necessary.)

One of the biggest lies that have tripped me up in life is, "oops. you missed perfection today, better start tomorrow." Somehow, I also bought into the idea that because I am not perfect, then the logical reasoning would be that I have failed. If I have already failed, I might as well continue "failing" (and also wallowing in my mistakes)and then give "perfection" another try tomorrow. It is this kind of thinking that kept me in a (clearly) unhealthy binging habit for 4 or 5 years.

What brought me freedom is the thought that I can make better choices at any moment. I can choose not to inhale an entire bag of chocolate. I can choose to react differently to situations that bother me. I can choose to have a better attitude. Every moment is new. Those moments may hold some carried-over consequences, but every moment is a chance to build on something different. Better. Maybe no one will notice right away when I choose to change my attitude from bad to good, but I know, and eventually, the new moments can become old. They can become the way things are.

So, I like Mondays. I love Mondays. I lvoe the possibilities of the next moment. Because they give my perfection-driven personality some freedom, some room to breath, some room to truly live. Right now, in this moment.

Yesterday's News

I was up too early yesterday. I laid in bed, giving sleep a chance to come. When it didn't, I was almost glad. I enjoy my mornings. The gym's not open yet, phone calls would not yet be appropriate, there's nothing on the schedule. There's just me, a cup of coffee, and my favorite cat snuggling in my lap.

Life often feels like chaos. It's the ball of yarn that ends up in extra stitches, a few holes, and a few mismatched patterns while I'm trying to knit it into a scarf. It's the dinner that wanders away from what I planned it to be when I thought I had all the right ingredients. It's the house full of old, ugly wall paper and stained carpets that I'm hoping will be transformed into something that feels like home in less than two months.

Of course, I could (and I do) fixate on the failed scarf, the imperfect meal. I could worry about how all of those upcoming home projects are going to get done while I'm still living life. I could fixate on my personal happiness and whether or not I'm successful. But when I do (and I do all of those things), I always miss what is really important. Perfection and success are concepts that often lack workable, concrete definitions, so for me, they always seem out of reach when I am staring at them, fixating on them, wondering if I can be found somewhere where they are. And happiness? Of course, I'm all for it. But it's an emotion that has its place in a healthy life, just like anger, disappointment, guilt, and excitement. So setting happiness as a goal is like setting surprise or excitement as a goal. Which leads me to believe that happiness is not really the goal we're setting when we say it is.

One thing I am hashing out in my own life is that discomfort is as much a part of a healthy, satisfying life as happiness is, and to wish it away in favor of a constant feeling of happiness is to miss part of what it means to be human and what makes the sweet times so sweet. I'm realizing that the parameters of failure and success have very little to do with whether or not things go as planned, or what everyone thinks of me, or whether or not I am at or above the status quo. There are times when it is important to sit through, live in, and not wish away uncomfortable situations. No one ever gets better at running or weight lifting or painting or anything by determining to remain within a comfort zone because pushing outside of it would be undeniably uncomfortable. No one improves that way.

Interestingly enough, when I embrace those ideas and let go of my former efforts of measuring success, I feel much freer to live out who I am, something no one else can do. And that feels good.

Tricks of the Trade

Recently, I have been focusing on a areas of my life that I would like to refine.

Complaining. I mentioned this briefly in the past. Complaining is really something that can turn into poison if left unchecked. So, to counteract my habit of complaining about everything that bothers me, I've been writing lists (one of my favorite things!) titled, "things I can be grateful for" nearly every day. Notice I don't write "things I AM grateful for." Sometimes I am just feeling too disgruntled to really feel grateful, but most times my outlook has turned around by the time I finish my list.

The Blues. I deal with Seasonal Affective Disorder every year. I haven't been diagnosed, but I do exhibit the symptoms.
:::I don't think this fact crossed my mind the year I got married (I was married in January). The (good and bad) stress that came with the wedding, coupled with the fact that it was winter made for an interesting situation when I put my dress on the day of my wedding. (Ladies! If you are planning on getting married, get a dress that can be adjusted!):::


In order to combat the disorder, and my current dread of winter, I've been making a conscious effort to get in some physical activity in every day. (Late fall and winter is a time when I ordinarily seem to give up all exercise, which probably contributes to my problem.) Even on really busy days. Even on days when I would rather nap. On some days, this means I am walking up and down the 5 flights of stairs at work whenever I have a free moment.

Today, I am going on a six-mile walk at Gring's Mill with my mom. Something that satisfies my need for physical activity and being something I am grateful for.

How Sweet it Is

It's National Oatmeal Day!
Of course, I didn't remember to take a picture of my fabulous oatmeal concoction while I had the camera at home, so I am asking you to trust me that I ate a big bowl of awesome this morning.

What went in:
1/3 cup oats
2/3 cup unsweetened vanilla almond milk
1 very thinly sliced banana, cooked in
the rest of my pumpkin puree
cinnamon
a big spoonful of (natural!) peanut butter
a small handful of ghirardelli 60% cacao chocolate chips

But even BETTER than oatmeal day...
I hopped on our home scale yesterday on a whim. The number was a little higher than I hoped it would be. I also got weighed in at the doctor's office in the afternoon. I didn't look at the number, but the nurse announced it to me (I can't remember this ever happening before!). Of course, by then, I had had lots of waters, two meals, and I was fully clothed, so the number was even higher.
And I DIDN'T CARE. Not at all. I feel good in my own skin, I (usually) eat well, and I have (finally!) embraced the idea that I have been trying to drill into my own head: being healthy is about quality of life (and not about how "pretty" the number on the scale sounds).

I looks like I have gotten a little healthier in the head:).

Creative Spaces

I might stick with this layout for awhile. With the exception of the pictures added to the header, everything just might stay the same for awhile.
Don't hold me to it.

I'm feely really picky about my blog right now. I really enjoy writing and reading blog entries. So much so that I sometimes dream of turning my love into a part time job, much like Kath. I love to write, cook, taste new foods, and share meals, and I think I could create a fun blog out of that.

Not surprisingly, there are some roadblocks to my Bohemian, not-quite-realistic dream. One is that I have already stated that I really shouldn't commit to anything else right now. And another is that I don't actually own the portable camera that is really necessary to facilitate a quality blog. I have a rather large camera that is bound to be stolen at some point during my day time blog adventures.

So. It looks like I will be putting this one little desire on hold until something drops out of my life. Until then, I'll do what I can with what I've got.

Humble Beginnings

Humility is NOT my strong point.

There are times when I think, "ok, I'm going to make this right. I'm going to apologize and then we'll have this great heart-to-heart, and everything will be so much better." Here's the thing with my plans: they don't always work out how I think they should. Sometimes the person I am opening myself up to, the person I am apologizing to, doesn't apologize. Sometimes they take the opportunity to explain to me why their actions were justified and then launch into a mini-sermon.

That is when practicing humility (notice I didn't say being humble! I'm not there yet.) feels ICKY. I missed out on that heart connection. And really, what I wanted was an apology. I wanted the other person to reciprocate my vulnerability so that I didn't feel so vulnerable.

But, in all actuality, recognizing that about myself does make me feel better. It points out that I am still obsessing over the situation because I didn't get what I wanted. Knowing that helps me to let it go.

There is a line from a particular song by Jon Foreman that says, "Father Time steals our days like a thief." It keeps playing in my head. Just that line. Not the one after or before it. Truth be told, I can't even remember what those lines are.

But it really doesn't matter because it's that line that feels so true to me these days. It seems like there is at least one person every week who asks me, "Doesn't this week feel slow?" No, it doesn't! Lately, it seems like life is a speeding locomotive. Sometimes I am at the window, watching the scenery whiz past me, sometimes I am enjoying tea and a turkey sandwich with friends. But it's fast. The days, the weeks, the months roll into each other, so one of my priorities is to sit and enjoy the moment when life just keeps moving, moving, moving.

I am 24-years-old, and I remember holding my brother in the hospital when he was born almost 20 years ago. I remember saying that "I wonder what he'll be like when he grows up." Almost 20 years ago. While I used to fixate on the "next big thing" and hardly savor what was going on in my life, I don't make that mistake (as often) anymore. Because I know that one day I will just wake up and be a mother. A grandmother. And I hope that I will have played my part in this grand old story well.

So This is Love

Last winter, during the bleakest, most tired days of the season, I fell in love with sandwiches. I ate them for three meals a day, on Thomas' whole wheat mini-square bagels. Mostly two different combinations. Whipped peanut butter, raisins and banana. And turkey sausage, eggs, and sharp cheddar. I was severely lacking in the vegetable department, but if it makes you feel a little better, I will tell you that I probably threw some spinach in there at times.

Recently, I have rediscovered that love. Partly because of time commitments, but also because there are so many combinations to be had that are tasty and healthy. One combination that I'm particularly proud of today?

My breakfast. Two tablespoons of White Chocolate Wonderful, one tablespoon of unsweetened shredded coconut, and a sliced banana, mixed up and spread between two slices of 12-grain bread, then refridgerated overnight to allow the flavors to meld.

I just might be repeating that one tomorrow.

Six o'clock Meeting

Hello, my name is Sarah.
I am a chronic complainer.
I tend to want to air (all of!) my grievances to family members at the dinner table and my poor husband at any time.
I have been sober zero days.
But today all of that changes.
Because complaining just sucks all of the fun out of the room.

A Favorite Word

Joy is a beautiful word.

It's not happiness. It's not a mood, an emotion. It's something much richer than that. It's the difference between a tootsie roll and piece of high-quality dark chocolate.

It's in a Friday night spent in the kitchen with warm chocolate chip cookies and people I love. It's in a lazy Saturday afternoon after a long and full week. It's in the voice of 4-year-old Nora, the laugh of 6-year-old Alyssa, and the honesty of 10-year-old Michelle. It's in a sweet relationship built after a rocky start, time spent with my girls, and new friendships made at local businesses. It's in a hot cup of tea on a fall day, in making a good choice when no one is watching, and making somebody's day a little better.

"Let a joy keep you. Reach out and take it when it runs by." -Carl Sandburg, American Historian, poet, and novelist

My First Day

I completed my first shift at the studio tonight! I really enjoyed myself. So much so that I didn't feel like I was working. I was bustling around, checking to see if laundry needed to be thrown in the dryer, washing mats, checking students in, answering questions in person and on the phone, learning names. Right up my alley.

After thinking over my schedule in the coming weeks, I realize I can't make any more (big) commitments without sacrificing something. When I teach, I want to teach well. When I am with my girls, I want to be fully there. When I am in the studio, I want to be attentive to the details and welcoming to students. When I am on the mat, I want to bring my whole self to my practice. I can't add anything else and still do those things well. Some people can. I can't. I'm a girl who needs some time to herself. I need some free space in my calendar. Some time to just be, with no interest at all in doing.

I don't mean that I can't meet for a movie at Goggleworks, a latte at Starbucks, a lunch at Good Eatz, or a walk (all some of my favorite things.). I don't mean that at all. What is life without relationships?

But when I took a work study position at Shri, I thought that I was going to be laid off. I imagined myself working at the yoga studio, taking lots of yoga classes, becoming a freelance writer, cooking lots of earthy meals, finally learning to sew, meeting for long walks, and generally flitting around like some kind of care free butterfly of a woman. That is truly what I pictured in my head.

But I have not been laid off. I still have a job, and now a work study position. And you know, as much as I liked the idea of Bohemian Sarah, I'm glad for both of them. Teacher by day, Yogi by night. That works for me.

Some Favorites

• I love a big bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. Lately, I'm most likely to eat the following combination (as inspired by my pal Amy): oats cooked with cinnamon and milk, plus a tablespoon of agave nectar, a tablespoon of peanut butter, and a sliced banana. I'm also looking forward to subbing in some unsweetened shredded coconut for the agave nectar.
  
• I REALLY love my girls (and my co-leader, Kristin!). We cuddle together, go to yoga classes, talk about life, laugh a lot. This Tuesday, one of the girls is going to teach the rest of us how to make apple pie with crumbs on top (I have never made a pie!). They are really awesome girls, each with their own perspective on life. I am really sad that they will be graduating in June (I tell them that I'm going to sabotage their graduation), but I'm determined to use the time I do have with them. And I'm thrilled to welcome other girls into our group, as well.
• Yoga! I don't know what, but something went off inside of me that says, "yoga, yoga, yoga!" I'm thrilled to be able to spend time with my girls during some of my classes and also to get to know new names, faces, and stories through my work study position.
• My family. I have a great family. I miss my brother and sister tremendously when they are away, but our time together is even sweeter for it. I have seen relatives from my dad's side of the family AND my mom's side recently, and I've been able to enjoy quality time with them just as if it hasn't been months (or years?) since I last saw them. And because most of Tim's family lives within a 5-20 minute drive, I finally have my childhood wish of living near my relatives!
• Shared meals. Possibly the best thing in life. (Oops. Have I said this too many times?)
• A good chunk of time to do a thorough cleaning or cook a great meal. I usually end up putting a lot on my calendar, so I "good chunks of time" to do either of those things are not every day occurences. But I love the chance to take my time and do something "house-wifey."

I Want Nap Time Back

I am tired today, so I'm not quite sure how my words will come out.

I've been tired. It seems that my old impulse to "get a donut FULL of frosting right after work" has been replaced with the strong desire to lay my head down and sleep, sleep, sleep. And I want to sleep, I think my body needs the sleep, but I also don't want to miss out on life by sleeping away ALL my free time (although part of me wants to do just that!).

I don't really have a solution, except to sit with each moment and be there. Make the best decision I can in each moment, and live in it.

Today, one of the best decisions I could make was to be honest with my students about just how tired I was. Some afternoons, one of the best decisions I could make will be to sleep. During others, it will be a walk with a friend or a meeting for coffee (yay coffee!).

Last night, I was able to spend some quality time with my mom over dinner at my favorite restaurant. I'm really excited about my small group this year, a work-study position I have taken at a local yoga studio, and the beginning of family night. I'm also excited about fall (my absolute favorite season!), Thanksgiving, apple picking, baking, taking yoga classes, and spending as much time with friends and family as I can.

I'm starting to feel a little more energized just thinking about it.

Speak Up for Those Who Cannot Speak for Themselves

Look what I bought!
Not this beautiful lady. The shirt, silly.

From this beautiful lady, who is selling the shirts to raise money for two adoptions.

I am in love with the heart that wants to adopt.

Maybe because I am passionate about adoption. I don't remember when that started, but I do remember thinking that I didn't really know anyone else who wanted to adopt, even if they were physically able to have children. But a BIG truth in life is, "you are never alone," and soon I started learning about people around me who wanted the same thing I did: to see the parentless children, the children who had been abandoned, the children who might otherwise be just a number loved. Loved deeply, immeasurably, and without conditions.

There are an estimated 147 million orphans in this world. Every one of those children has a name and a history. Every one of those children is beautiful, a unique creation. Every one of those children has a heart that can be broken or restored and filled up to the top.

Lovelyn (isn't that such a great name?!) has such a beautiful heart, and I am so excited about her story. So I bought a shirt. A $25 Alternative Apparel shirt to subtract two from that 147 million.

You can, too.

Trying to Fit the Ocean in a Cup

I've been a bit of a mess lately.
Maybe a big mess.
I've tried analyzing myself top to bottom, inside and out, to fix the problem.
I haven't withdrawn from my normal engagements, maybe I've added more. But nearly every time I've left wondering, "did I give the wrong impression? did they know that I really love them? that I love to spend time with them and hear their stories?"
Because my spirit's just been...damp. (When I talk like that, keep in mind that I'm a yoga-practicing semi-hippie who believes in God and Jesus.)

Joy, one of the best things this life has to offer, has been missing in my life.

But I've been singing this song as well as I know how, and I'm getting some of it back:

Savior, please take my hand
I work so hard, I live so fast
This life begins, and then it ends
And I do the best that I can, but I don't know how long I'll last

I try to be so tough
But I'm just not strong enough
I can't do this alone, God I need You to hold on to me
I try to be good enough
But I'm nothing without Your love
Savior, please keep saving me

Savior, please help me stand
I fall so hard, I fade so fast
Will You begin right where I end
And be the God of all I am because You're all I have

Hallelujah
Everything You are to me
Is everything I'll ever need
And I am learning to believe
That I don't have to prove a thing
'Cause You're the one who's saving me

-by Josh Wilson, from the album Trying to Fit the Ocean in a Cup

A Peachy Life

There is a part of me that wants everyone to be happy, never disappointed, and always pleased (with me). I don't really like this part of me.

Lately, the people-pleaser aspect of myself has inched toward the surface again. And it's resulted in a stressed, irritable, and anxious girl.

I am a teacher. My husband is a pastor, and my father is a pastor, so in addition to my own church, I have relationships with people through some of their social and professional networks. I have a lot of family members, I am involved in youth group, and I have some friends. So I know a lot of people. Do you know the chances of one of those people being displeased with me at any given time? I think it's 100%.

Now, no one needs me to point out to them that I am not Jesus, so of course there are going to be times when I should be apologizing for something I have royally messed up. But sometimes- a lot of times- I know it is best for me to just be. To make the best decision I know how to in a given situation and then just keep on living. No one is better off if I am Basket Case Sarah, worried that at any moment that someone might be offended. No one is better off if I am making them happy all the time. First of all, it's silly to think that I am that powerful. And second of all, I "know" by now that keeping someone happy does not equal love.

Still, somehow, I have let this people-pleasing part consume too much of me. I'm ok with having a little of that aspect in me; it makes me a peace maker. But too much? Not good. Not healthy.
No one benefits.

I want a life that is like a juicy summer peach. But the way I've been thinking lately and feeling lately sucks the joy and the beauty and good stuff out of the life.

And that's no way to live.

My mom and I whipped up a really yummy dish last night.
(Saying "whipped" in relation to food always makes me think of mashed potatoes. We didn't make mashed potatoes.)
A lot of fresh, healthy food. Food reminiscent of a spa.
Sometimes I think it would be fun to be a spa chef. Sometimes I think I'd like to be a group fitness instructor. My favorite show is Bones. I'm not very observant, but I am intrigued by all things gross (like organs, blood, and bones), and sometimes I think it would nice to have a job like that.

I don't know.
I don't want to teach English for the rest of my life. It's fine, but it's not entirely who I am.
At 18, I chose teaching because it would allow me to be positively involved in the lives of teenagers without getting paid to counsel them. I hated the idea of being paid to help people work through their problems when it seemed to me that most "counselors" worth talking to didn't charge. They were friends, mentors, family members.

I wanted to be mentor.
I liked English. I was naturally good at it, due mostly to the fact that I spent so much of my childhood squished into my bed and book-traveling to other worlds. My high school English teacher was fantastic and loved her students well. Teaching English surely was the way to go if I wanted to effect teenagers positively.

So, I went to college where I didn't really fit in with the English teacher crowd, because I didn't like most of what is considered to be classic English literature. (I'm still not a big fan of Shakespeare, by the way.) I learned to appreciate poetry, I wrote a lot of papers, and I came out with a degree in Secondary English Education.

Today, I am a teacher. Mission accomplished, right?

You know, the truth is, I can pick any of the above jobs, and the outcome will be similar (although sometimes I still think it would be so much fun to be a chef in a spa or a place like Ten Thousand Villages). I will like it, I will enjoy getting to know more people and building into their lives. But I just don't know that I'm going to be completely satisfied with a job.

Because when I get down to what I really want, outside of anyone else's expectations, or the expectations I imagine are on me, I want the same thing I've wanted since I was 16 years old.
I want to be a youth pastor's wife, and I want to be a mom.

Today, I am a youth pastor's wife. I didn't go to a Bible college in search of a husband, and I actually fell in love with Tim before he chose to be a youth pastor. But I have what I want. Kids to love and mentor and sometimes...mother.

Huh.

Shhhh....

I like to have a little time to think.
Peace and quite. Time spent away from the computer, away from tv, away from noise.
Lately, I'm not sure where that went. You know, my quiet.

I found myself feeling uncomfortable without something going on. I was looking for radio shows (that usually talk about nothing I care about) while driving to work, turning on re-runs to listen to while I did dishes and made the bed, reading blog after blog and after blog...(which is a difficult habit to cap because I love to read about what other people have to say!

So last night, I drove to my yoga class in silence (ok, I might have spoken out loud once or twice). I drove home in silence. This morning, I drove to work without turning on the radio or listening to one of Regina Spektor's bizarre and charming songs.

And it felt really, really good. A little uncomfortable at first, like riding a bike when you haven't for years or singing out loud when everything else around you is quiet. But soon it felt natural. Just to sit and let my thoughts wander like they do.

A few words (or several) on food

I decided not to go vegetarian.
Although I did do some research prior to my experiment, I know I did not do enough.

When I go to the doctor, I try to remember to tell whoever may be taking my blood pressure that day that the reading will be low. I get that from my dad.
I have never given blood. I've tried, but even after doing light exercise to raise my too-low-to-give-blood blood pressure, my iron reading was too low. I get that from my mom.

So in the event that I need to have blood work done, my energy is generally wiped from my body. I come this close to passing out every time, and I usually just want to sit still and close my eyes until the uncomfortable feeling passes.

That is how I felt after two weeks of meatless meals.
So back to plain old moderate eating.

I have experimented with different ways of eating, just because I am curious, I like to try new things and I am fascinated with food and nutrition. But I always come back to regular, healthy, no-diet, nothing-restricted eating. Or I try to. Because as I get older, the big piece of cake with extra icing still pleases my taste buds just as much, but it leaves me with a sugar crash and feeling terrible. So I compromise. Because life is too short, beautiful, and fun to waste time saying, "no, no, no," or to spend feeling too horrible to enjoy it.

Death and Life

Good morning.
This morning I want to talk about death. You don't have to read it. I won't quiz you the next time you see me to find out whether you've been reading my blog.
But this morning, I'm dressed in all black. Black sweater, black pants, black heels. I am planning on going to a viewing with my coworkers. Someone will have to stay back, and it might be me, but I am prepared.

I am prepared to go to a viewing of the son of one of my coworkers. It seems that the laws of life should dictate that people should not die early. But they do. We all have stories of people we love dying before they should. Don't we?

So I think about death often. I have learned by now that the people I love are not promised to me indefinitely. They are a gift to me right this very minute, to be treasured and loved right now. This is part of life for me. Death must be part of life because it gives value and meaning to every day. Even to those things that seem mundane.

Tim sometimes jokes that we have a deal: he dies before I do. I remind him (of course) that I never agreed to such a deal. But I do know that I am not promised him forever. It would be painful, to say the least, to live without him, but I try to treasure him every day because of that knowledge. (That is not to say that I am always successful in this attempt.)

Tim also says that if he does die before I do, he wants a party. You know, a celebration. I think there is validity to celebrating his life and what he will leave behind. I want that for myself, too. A life worth celebrating.

The News

Shanna asked me today "what's new" with me.
I told her that I flip-flop between sanity and insanity so often, that it's hard to tell.

a few written thoughts before i go on with my day

This is going to be fairly random. Just to warn you. If you are a person who values order and purpose highly, you may not want to read the following cathartic ramblings.

I miss everyone. I don't know if it's just "one of those moods," maybe coming from that fact that I just haven't been sleeping enough. But I just miss everyone. I want to go to Texas to have morning coffee in person with my beautiful friend Sarah. I want to take a long walk with Audrey. I want to give a big hug to my Aunt Anne and her daughters Jenna and Ali. I want to lie in the grass and talk about life with Jeannie, Kristin, Debbie, and Dani. I want to give everyone I know an extra long, extra tight hug.

Sometimes I think that it would be great if my church could hire me as the Youth Pastor's Assistant. Such a move would mean I would get paid for doing what I love and for much of what I already do. I like my job. (I teach for the Pennsylvania state Move Up Program, which helps low-income adults achieve their Geds, get trained in a trade, and then acquire jobs.) It's a good fit for me, but that deep pit in my heart that beats stronger when I feel most alive is not with my job.

It's with my girls. It was so. hard. this year when I can to explain to them over and over, "no, I can't go with you to summer camp." It was harder when they left without me. And logically, I know it turned out well. I know two fabulous counselors who might have missed out on the experience if I had gone were there. And I know it is good for the girls to be able to do their thing without me. It's healthy.

But when I see joy on their faces. When I see tears after they see lies they've been believing (about themselves, about anyone) for what they are. When I see them continually grow into women who make wise decisions and who live their lives with abandon. When I see them asking tough questions. That is what I live for.

And it's with my family. I have a 9-year-old cousin who has one of the most beautiful personalities I have encountered. Her aunt died almost two years ago, and Michelle has things to talk about. When she's so honest about life and her feelings and what's important to her and what isn't. When she asks about my feelings about Aymie and that deep pit in her heart turns on when I say, "Tell me a story about her." That is what I live for.

Day Nine: Why This Might Not Work For Me

I'm on the ninth day of my vegetarian experiment. I am loving it. I'm enjoying the food, I feel great, and I don't miss meat.

But there is one reason I have found that this might not work for me. Here it goes:

I am extremely relational. That is, I value relationships above everything else. To tell the truth, I am fairly picky about most things, when left to my own devices. But when it comes to relationships, all of that goes out the window. I have watched movies that I never would have watched on my own and tv shows that I really didn't like, eaten things I wouldn't have made for myself, and gone places that I wouldn't normally choose to go to, just to spend time with people. It's not that it feels like a sacrifice (although, after episode number gazillion of the Simpsons, it has certainly approached sacrifice level); it's just that compared to the value of spending time with people I love, I just don't care that I end up doing things I don't like.

One of my absolute favorite things to do anywhere is sit around a table with people I love, or people I am going to love, or anybody and share a meal, stories, and laughter. Sometimes this means I eat dinner at somebody else's house. Last night, I ate dinner at my pal, Jaimie's, house. I originally said that I would come after dinner, because I am experimenting with vegetarianism, and I don't want to "be a pain in the butt." (That is a quote.) She told me she knew that, but still wanted me to come to dinner, I said I would make an exception and eat the meat, she said no, and I went to dinner.

But while I was sitting there, eating my meat-free meal (and it was yummy), I just felt like I was missing out on the piece of the community experience. There is magic in sharing a meal around a table. If you think about it, you might know what I mean. And I just felt like, by opting out of part of the meal, I was also opting out on a little of the magic. The community experience.

Ten Reasons Why My Husband is My Favorite Person on this Planet

1. He lets me be me. I don't know how this is for everyone, but as a "pastor's wife," I find that sometimes people place a lot of varying expectations on me. Tim does not do that. For him, there's no mold. He wants me to be me, because as he says, the church is better for it if I am myself. How freeing is that!

2. He's adventurous. I can't live a satisfying life without some adventure. This guy knows adventure. Before we were married, we went sky diving and jumping his car off of "ramps," but the clincher was when I asked him where he would be willing to live. He said anywhere. Anywhere in the United States, or anywhere? Anywhere. I was sold (ok, I was also "sold" on a number of other occasions, as well.)

3. He's passionate. About his job, the church, his family, and learning.

4. He supports my ideas, despite the fact that those ideas are many and often changing. Some of those idea include publishing, holding dinner parties, planting herbs, learning to sew/knit/bake bread/make hummus, buying a little black pig, buying a goat, adoption, holding a community kitchen, starting a themed co-written blog, and going vegetarian. Not all of those ideas come to fruition, but Tim is willing to back me on anything that does come about.

5. He knows me better than anyone else, and still chooses to think I am great.

6. He really loves people.

7. He is committed to our marriage.

8. He is certainly the better communicator between the two of us, and things get worked out when we argue.

9. He makes me a better person. To name a few ways this is true: I am more patient, more self-confident, carrying fewer issues (including anger and bitterness), and more free since we began our relationship.

10. Just because he is my husband. Of course we both love each other, and then we are human and imperfect. But he is my partner in this adventure called life, and I'm so grateful for that.

Thumbs Up, Thumbs Down

Today is day two.

So far, the only thing I have not been pleased with about all of this is is this:

Thumbs down. Cherry Pie Lara bars are just not my thing.



Everything else, I like. It seems like being conscious of not eating meat and why I'm not eating meat has made me more conscious in other areas, as well. During the last two days, I haven't been putting artificial sweeteners into my body (this is notable, but it will be even MORE notable if I can keep it up for the entire 30 days...and beyond?).

Also, I stopped at the grocery store today for some veggie burgers to bring to tonight's pool party (everyone else will be eating hot dogs and hamburgers), and I came across three treats I wanted to try: coconut milk ice cream, Namaste baking mix (for brownies or blondies? Who can decide?), and Sunspire chocolate chips. I decided to choose one (after all, I still have a grocery budget to keep) After some contemplation (I take my food seriously, people!), I decided on the chocolate chips because they're more versatile, and they're fair trade. Yes, they're about two times as much as my usual bag of chocolate chips, but I know the people who helped produce them were paid fairly. So I buy fewer treats..I can handle that.

30 Days

Okay, here it is.

I've completed my 90-day trial period at work. I've somewhat transitioned into my "new normal." So, naturally, I'm ready for another change.

Vegetarianism. For 30 days.

It's something that has been rolling around in my mind for quite some time. But to be honest, I just did not want to sit down (or get up, drive, or any other action requiring extra effort on my part) to do the research I want to do or to plan meals and matching grocery trips.
I did not feel like I wanted to handle a major job change, corresponding changes at home, changes in my involvement at youth group, AND major changes in my diet.
I wanted convenience, thank you.

But here I am. Posing as a vegetarian for 30 days, in effort to see if this is something I want to sign on to. Mostly because I believe in thinking (and acting) globally, and belief is made evident through actions, not words.

So, here I go!

We're All Human Here

I'm feeling really good in my skin lately.

This is notable for a few reasons.

One of those is that I have had a habit of projecting my problems onto my body for somewhere around 13 years now. Feeling stressed, insecure, dissatisfied, inadequate, unsure? Call in a fat day! I've become convinced that "fat days" are nothing more than an easier way to deal with a deeper issue than "fat." Because, really, girls, you usually know if you've eaten too much broccoli or pizza, or if you-know-what is on the horizon. You know it'll pass and your belly will deflate.

But what if it doesn't? What if you're not thin or fit enough?

Thin enough for WHAT?

Usually the answer seems to be "thin enough to feel validated (because I don't feel validated in situation a, b, and c)." And that is what leaves me to believe that fat days are about something a little bit deeper.

Just a little. I've come to believe that life is too rich and beautiful to waste time blaming (berating?)my body. Sometimes I forget that; it can be a hard habit to break after over a decade of placing responsibilities on my body that it never should have been carrying.

I know I'm not the only one with habits like that to break.

It is way too easy to project negative feelings on things or even people that have no business weighing down on said things or people. Even unconsciously. Maybe especially then.

I know that the same person has said that the kids in my youth group are too serious because of Tim's personality AND that the kids are not serious enough, also because of Tim. On two separate occasions, of course.

This really irritated me. Really irritated me. The truth is that it is not all that hard to rile me up when it comes to those I love, and I had a hard time coming down off my high horse.

Until I realized that I place my own irritations in the wrong place quite often . (Refer to the above post if you're not quite sure where that is.)

Oh. We're all human here? Time to dismount.

A Short Letter and a Heavy Heart

Good morning:).
Have you ever seen Slumdog Millionaire? I saw it last night, and my heart is heavy. I don't want to spoil the movie if you haven't seen it but plan to, but it's some tough stuff. The thing is, I like the movies that depict how life really is BEST. They make me sad, but they are my favorite. Why do some people have to live like that, but we get to live like we do? Boo. My only real response so far has been to write a letter to my Compassion child, Puja, who happens to live in India, and send her a birthday gift. After that, I don't know, but it really brings the idea that I really have to be conscious of loving everyone I encounter throughout the day- no matter their demeanor- because I never know the life they have lived or are living.

Have you heard the phrase, "live simply, so others can simply live"? I believe that is important. But as I get older, it seems easier to settle into suburbia and think less about others and more about myself. Buying a car, buying a house. I don't think those things are wrong, but I do think we should live below our means "so others can simply live."

Freedom at 5 AM

This morning, I woke up at 5 am to the sound of Macey carving out new passageways in her club house (our box spring). I went to the bathroom, and then, because it is hard for me to follow asleep, I decided to stay up and get a jump on my day. Read a proverb, do the dishes, catch up on my blogs. (5 am may sound ridiculously early, but my actual wake-up time is only an hour later, and I come from a line of early-rising women. I have memories of waking up at the crack of dawn-and even before dawn- to the sounds of my grandmother preparing breakfast and other meals and doing housework. My mother seems to have been following in her footsteps.) Good idea, in theory. However, by the time it was too late to return to bed and catch a little more rest, I realized that I felt exhausted, definitely ready for a nap and not for the day ahead of me. Whoops.

Such is life. On other days, it might have worked. I did read that proverb, and I did catch up on some blogs (although, in my fatigue, I thought it best not to leave any comments, even if leaving comments was the original goal). I did not do the dishes. Poor Tim may be unable to find a clean knife later when he needs one. And although I can already hear you saying, “well, Tim can do the dishes!”, he’s been doing them, and it’s certainly my turn (and was several days ago!).

On other days, I might have laid a guilt-trip on myself about my failed plans, about the wasted time. I know that life is short, and I don’t want to waste time; I want to live out a rich and beautiful story. But it seems that (large and small) mistakes are part of the richness of life. I so often forget that life is a constant untangling of knots, of putting together puzzles, and exploring of corners. This, the idea that I can “start over” at any given moment, that I can be free of guilt trips, that I can stop obsessing with “what could have been,” has been one of the most freeing truths of my life.

I think I am finally beginning to understand grace.

Breakfast Muffins

I am a sucker for muffins. My favorite meatloaf recipe is a Cooking Light recipe that calls for cooking the meatloaf mixture (make from turkey!) in a muffin tin. I long for the day that my bananas turn brown enough to turn into (whole wheat) banana chocolate chip muffins, and I usually keep myself supplied with chocolate chip pumpkin muffins during the colder months.

So when Tim suggested making breakfast muffins, I was a little surprised that he didn't think I would go for it, and he was a little surprised that I didn't deem the idea "gross." And then we decided to make them. Right away!

This turned out to be a great idea on many levels:

1. I don't remember the last time we cooked together, with the exception of boiling pasta noodles.

2. I love to cook with Tim! It's said that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but I think that statement is truer for me than it is for my sweet, laid-back, "I'll eat anything you make" husband.

3. It was fun to see Tim get as excited about making something yummy as I so often get.

4. I love to cook (and eat!) Cooking-Light style. That is, healthy food that doesn't taste too healthy. Breakfast muffins were right up my ally.

5. We had a lot of fun.

6. And the breakfast muffins were DELICIOUS!

Here's how we made them:

1. We sprayed a muffin tin with cooking spray. This is a surefire way to keep our cat off the counters as she always runs away anytime I use that stuff. Which may have something to do with the time I mistakenly sprayed it in her face.

2. Tim sacrificed the turkey ham he'd been using for his lunches, and we scrunched one piece into each muffin compartment to form a cup.

3. I sprinkled 2% sharp cheddar into the bottom of each cup while Tim scrambled a few eggs.

4. Most of the cups got an egg cracked right into it; but 4 were filled with scrambled egg.

5. A little bit of freshlycracked pepper went on top.

6. The muffins were baked at 350 degrees for 15 minutes.

S is for Sarah

Today I decided to hang up my Super Woman clothes. In the back of the closet. You know, because they never quite fit right and were always a little too big for me.

I've tried them on often, thinking that one of these days, my efforts might result in a perfect fit. But they don't. My Super Woman pants are just too baggy and leave me feeling dumpy and inadequate instead of confident and satisfied.

I keep thinking that I need to do "everything." I need to be at every youth group event, I need to have a full time job, I need to go to every family event, every social event, write more cards, have more people over, make more of a difference, say things better, be more thoughtful, be a little healthier, love a little more, manage my time a little better.

Some of those are great goals.

But.

A great man in my life often tells me that my worth doesn't come from what I do. When I was subbing, I struggled with the temptation to make excuses for myself, or to try to impress with the list of things I was working on while "just" subbing. I cringed when asked, "what do you do?" because I was certain my answers would be deemed as not quite good enough, and I had a hard time when no one noticed all the behind-the-scenes work I did.

It is hard to admit all of this because I know it reveals how self-centered I am. But I write it because in revealing it, I am hoping to chip away at a misconception I have held for a long time: that I am worth as much as I do. For the first two years of my marriage, I think I hoped that Tim would be impressed with me if I kept the house clean, cooked yummy meals, and showed up at every event I was asked to attend. Tim told me over and over that he loves me the same whether I do "everything" or sit at home and eat chocolate while watching movies, but I just didn't understand those words until recently.

I can't remember the conversation that ended in tears and a lot of vulnerability, but there was one, and it prompted the beginning of a slow freedom for me. One day, after a particularly frustrating evening, I cried over some of my girls who I have spent a lot of time on, but ended up choosing to essentially cut me out of their lives. It hurt(s) a lot, but I felt better when I realized I would do it again. And then today, I was so sad over the fact that by Wednesday, I am spent and I need time to myself to recharge; Wednesday is our mid-week youth group meeting, and I have been missing it.

But after a few good conversations, I realized that I needed to change into better-fitting clothes. My Super Woman clothes don't fit well; My Sarah clothes do.

Practicing Pidgeon

There is a pose in yoga called "pidgeon." The pose is meant to be uncomfortable; it involves literally sitting in discomfort. Not rutching around, not sitting and counting the seconds (minutes?) until the instructor says it's time to move. Just sitting there. Finding peace there.

During this pose (which I used to dread but am now beginning to enjoy), I often think about a difficult situation that I am currently going through or have gone through. I think about the healthiest thing I can do in those situations, and that is to live in it, in the middle of the tension and the discomfort. I'd like to immediately move to my comfort zone, but it's not the best thing I could do.

So I've learned to live in tension when I'd like to run away.

Not completely learned. I'd still like to run away at the moment. But it's not the healthiest thing I could do.

So I'll sit here. In the middle of tension and discomfort. And find peace.

A Few Unorganized Thoughts About My Life as a Full-time Teacher

Sigh.
Tonight is yoga night. This means I will be up later than usual due to the energy I get from the class.
So. I have been meaning to sit down and document something job-related for a few weeks now, and 9:30 on a Thursday night following yoga seems like a great time to do it.

I love my job.
I'm not head-over-heels in love with it. I don't wake up with a burst of energy, fighting the urge to arrive to work early with donuts and coffee. (Actually, I have been wanting to bake some whole wheat banana chocolate chip muffins. This may get me some strange looks, but several of the women at work are quite open to eating healthier things, and my food choices have already been called "hippie," so.....)
But.
I love that I get to be stability in the lives of people who find very little stability anywhere else. I love that I am learning more about what it means to love. (Oh? Love doesn't mean "accommodate everyone's wishes"? Hm.) The parts of love that I've been working on the most lately are boundaries, compassion, wisdom, and patience.

Boundaries. I don't know if anyone ever grows out of wanting to be taken care of, and many of my students, never being really nurtured seem to crave boundaries more than a lot of people I know. This is hard for me, because I don't like to "lay down the law." I don't like to be firm and demanding, but sometimes it actually serves the students well to take a stance and stick to it.

Compassion. The much less straight-forward aspect of my job. I have students with crazy stories, deep hurts, twisted thinking patterns (when asked to define beauty, my students classified it as something like being conceited), and messy lives. My job is to teach them, but (as told by my boss) it is also to act as a disciplinarian, a mom, and a psychologist. Sometimes I have to talk to my students individually about (mental, physical, emotional) things that are inhibiting their work. I love them, and I think they are beginning to sense that because it seems that they are beginning to trust me more bit by bit.

Wisdom. I'm thinking I need equal measures of compassion AND wisdom for my job. Because as much as I need to be understanding, and even accommodating, I have had students try to pull one over on me MANY times. It seems that the best thing I can do is take my days moment by moment and make the best decisions I can during those moments.

Patience. This is NOT my strong point. There have been many days that I have wondered what I was thinking when I went for this job. That I have wanted to quit, yell, go home and eat (eat, eat!), and take a loooong vacation. But I keep in mind that I am here to help my students, and sometimes I get encouragement. In large amounts. I actually have a really great boss, great co-workers, a great husband, and great, beautiful, flawed, and very individual students. Working with people is hard, but it's the best part.

Look What I Got!

Thanks to Tim's excitement, I've already received a few birthday presents:)!

I've recently discovered that I really do like hummus. I just don't like the processed version. Soooo Tim and I have been talking about experimenting with making our own hummus. And for hummus, tahini is essential. Mmm, I am so excited to experiment with this stuff!

I also received THIS treat.

I tasted it already of course. It tastes just like the name suggests, like butter and coconut. I'm planning to put it in my morning oatmeal, on toasted bread with bananas, AND I found out that ICING can be made out of it! Icing and coconut?! A beautiful combination.

But even better...

Chocolate AND coconut in ONE butter. Mmmm...

This morning, I mixed this, some peanut butter, and a sliced banana into my hot cereal. It was SO good!

Last night, after yoga, I reported to Tim that the class was a good one, and then I asked him if he was ok with the idea of his wife loving yoga and things like coconut butter. He just laughed at me.

We are so different.

And thank God for that!

On Developing a Social Conscience

I like to cook.

There are a lot of weeks that I try to create and stick to a meal plan, but sticking to it really never happens. I want to be a woman who creates a plan, a matching grocery list, and saves money and time that way, but I'm just not yet. (Maybe my new job will encourage me in that pursuit!) So we end up with a lot of creative dishes. This is fun and sometimes a disaster.
Because of my penchant for throwing things together, I like to critique my dishes. This allows me to look to cook better by doing. I actually like this approach, for the most part.

Last Monday, Tim and I threw together a basic pasta, marinara, chicken, and cheese dish. Afterwards, I had a hard time deciphering what I just did not like about the dish. Until I realized it was the chicken. Not the way it was cooked, cut, or seasoned. Just the fact that it was chicken. I think I tend to like meat a whole lot less when I am PMSing. Whoops.

So, on Tuesday, I ate no meat. On Wednesday, I ate no meat. I have actually not had meat for over a week now, and I feel pretty good. I'm enjoying putting together creative and balanced meat-free meals. And now I'm thinking about where I'm going to take this. Because I do ordinarily like meat and I'm not thinking about never eating it again. I don't really see a need to make a list of rules for myself or write myself a label.

But. I'm having a hard time justifying eating a whole lot of meat when I know there are a whole lot of people in this world who are starving because they are hungry. And United States cows, chickens, and pigs are eating up a whole lot of corn and other grains that could be used to feed people. This is not the first time this idea has occurred to me, but my excuse is that there are so many issues that I would like to pay attention to that I often forget some of them.

Also. I made a special trip to the grocery store after work today because I was craving tacos. I also picked up a few things for my lunches. It wasn't that I needed them. I wanted them. Which got me thinking. So. I'm going to see how many days I can go eating food that I already have at home, no trips to the grocery store. And then from there, I hope to becoming the meal-planning lady. And same some money. And send that money to World Vision.

It could get interesting.

My New Love

My latest food obsession is coconut. I've been craving it a lot.

So when I discovered the existence of coconut butter today, I was ecstatic. Thrilled.

And I've decided that for my birthday (which is not coming up soon, so I may just grant myself an early birthday present...to myself), I'm buying a jar of it. And some coconut cream pie Lara bars. YUM.

Just Like the Movies

It was just like the movies.

I spent the evening laughing a lot, talking with women who speak broken English.
Afterwards, I carried the coffee pot to the kitchen, doled out a dime for a sought-after snack, stopped to talk with a boy who promises he will be over soon to eat dinner. Then I sat down to watch my husband coach his basketball team.

Now let me just pause my story (yes, even in the introduction!) to say that I really, really enjoy watching Tim coach his team. It is such a refreshing contrast to the berating, frustrated, win-first behavior I have observed in a lot of coaches (and even parents). Tim loves the guys on his team, and it shows. He teaches (and expects) them to play well, but esteems them as individuals and as players. Just like great coaches in the movies.

After the game, the entry way was bustling with people. I brought out a tray of cookies, and they were gone in less than one minute. There were lots of smiles, high fives. A shiny red car full of kids pulled up as I headed outside. Lots of laughing, lots of smiling.

I left feeling elated, refreshed, stuffed with love, and in awe of how far I've traveled, and how far they've traveled in 6 months.

Last September, I made my debut at the community center. I manned the snack bar. I set up and tore down. I smiled a lot. I played with the little kids who wandered in, and I cautiously tip-toed up to personal hedges and announced my presense. I was uncomfortable most of the time; I would liken the feeling to a lesser degree of the culture shock I experienced when dropped in a foreign country for several months.

But I just wanted to get to know the kids there. I'm not really sure why, except for the fact that most of them didn't seem to have many (or any) people in their lives that just wanted to love and know them. This is a particular soft spot for me, so I kept going. Week after week. And after a month or two, I recognized that the kids didn't understand that I was genuinely interested in them because I only showed up during my scheduled time.

So I started showing up on Thursday nights. Tuesday nights. I brought in special treats, watched them play basketball, asked questions, and cooked some food. I don't know when or how it happened, but one day, I got a hug. Then I was asked how I was doing. Then I got a high five. And then those kids who I had been trying so hard to understand and know wormed their way into my heart. I don't know when it happened, but tonight, when I was hanging out at the community center, with those kids that I love, I felt like I was home.

I have always seen myself as a "girls' girl." When I am at youth group, I spend most of my time with the girls. I am drawn to them. I understand much of what they are going through. When I am at church, I spend most of my time with the women. I like to catch up on their lives, ask what they need, visit them. I love people, but I am usually on the women's side of things. That is where I'm most comfortable. That is where my heart is.

Most of the kids at the community center are boys. I don't easily gravitate toward them. I don't easily understand them. But they've pushed out the sides of my heart and made more room. And when I am with them, I am at home.

I love ice cream.

If given the choice, I will go for frozen yogurt, because I'm not a big fan of milk and I could use the calcium. But it's really all about the smooth, creamy texture, the sweet taste, and preferably, the chunks of brownie, cookie, cookie dough, or peanut butter.

I also am a big believer in the idea that any other dessert can be made better by the simple addition of ice cream. Pie and ice cream. Cake and ice cream. Brownie and ice cream. Cookie and ice cream. De-licious.

Sometimes I feel guilty about my affinity for ice cream and try to feed the craving something a little healthier instead. Which is noble, really, and maybe my body will thank me later. But what seems to happen nearly every single time I make this effort, when what I really wanted (not just, "oh, I could go for some" but "I want some, and nothing else will satisfy) was ice cream and I tried to subsitute something else, is that I am left unsatisfied. My belly is full, but I'm not satisfied. Sometimes I realize my mistake and try to fix it by eating the ice cream. I walk away overfull and a little uncomfortable. Sometimes I just walk away without the ice cream. Either way, I end up disappointed and fixated on something that could have been easily solved with a scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough frozen yogurt.

Ugh.

I am a girl who loves her ice cream. Most of the time I know to accept this, enjoy this, embrace this. But when I don't, when I let something or somebody tell me that this is not ok and I try in vain to sub in dried fruit or yogurt, it's just so disappointing every time. Frustrating even.

Letter to a Friend

I've been feeling really great since Friday night. I have been stressing over life, thinking that nothing I do is really making a difference, that I could be making better choices, that my quality of life left something to be desired. But I realized that most of my problem lies in the fact that I haven't been consulting God in day-to-day and moment-by-moment decisions. I have simply been trying to "do my best." Of course I'm going to feel awful after that, because I'm not designed to only do my best; I'm designed to work within a much larger framework than myself called the body of Christ. I am part of a much bigger picture than myself, and 100 years from now, it is likely that few people will know my name, but that can't be what matters.

Once I came upon this realization, I felt so much lighter. More joyful. Even purposeful. My actions held more meaning, in that I found a lot of joy in the little things. Like following the impulse I felt to stand in line at the grocery store rather than hop in line at the U-Scan. It turned out that the cashier was having a rough few moments with some of her transactions, she was feeling stressed, and was apologizing profusely. It was such a pleasure to be able to ease a little of that tension when it came to be my turn in line.

Last night, Tim told me that the Community Center is in need of an ESL tutor on Tuesday nights. I have some experience with this (mainly teaching in Kazakhstan several years ago and substitute teaching through RACC), and I often find it rather challenging, but also rewarding. I also found out about a need for an ESL tutor at Berks Christian School and am looking into that. For me, it's fun to know that you love teaching ESL so much, because I have learned that this is one of my joys (and maybe even talents), too! Yet another thing we have in common! It's just encouraging to know that I may have opportunities to be a part of things that are helpful to others and leave me feeling somewhat fulfilled, as well.

I am still actively job-searching. I don't know what sort of job I will end up with, but with this new realization that I've come across in the past few days, I feel a lot less anxious over it. I'm a piece of the puzzle, not the star, so I don't feel so much pressure to have everything come out perfect-according-to-Sarah. Tim and I have a cute little apartment with plenty of space, plenty of clothes, a sufficient income, health insurance, great friends and family, and plenty of opportunities to serve and love. I really don't have a lot to complain about.

Last night, I called my sister.
I got the answering machine, so I pulled out my cutting board and starting chopping onions, garlic, scallions.
Minutes later, she called.
And we talked about life.
And I kept chopping. Red potatoes this time.
Hypothetical situations.
A little olive oil in a pan. Tossed with garlic and onions.
Maybe one day we'll live nearby.
And we'll both be pregnant at the same time.
Ground turkey, a little mustard, and worcestershire sauce.
And after that, she'll continue with her career, and I'll stay at home with my child and hers.
And we would both be perfectly happy with that because that's how we are.
I hung up the phone after almost an hour.
Just in time to put the finishing touches on dinner.
It was delicious.

A Sigh of Relief

I like to write. I really, really do. There's something satisfying about painting a picture with words. (Probably because I have never been good with actual paint.) But my posts during the last couple of weeks really haven't been satisfying at all. I've been so tired and so self-focused that I've been missing a lot of what's important.

I've been thinking a lot about babies and houses. At some point, I came upon the idea that a baby demands a house, and I have not been able to get my mind off of babies. I calculated mortgage costs, down payment costs, and baby costs. And I have confessed my selfishness to a few people who tell me that it is ok to have babies on the brain and even dwell on them. It's womanly and it's my right and it's normal.

True.
But.

I mentioned before that I have a tendency to hop from exciting thing to exciting thing and hardly savor the good stuff before asking for more. Maybe I didn't say it well, and maybe it didn't come out that way- my last two blog entries have been mainly attempts to sort out emotions- but that is me. I'm always wondering what can be changed, what can be better, what can I try next. This is both a strength and a weakness. It is a strength because it helps me to actively improve who I am, the kind of choices I make, the kind of life I am living. I like that. But out of balance, it is also the trigger in me that says that the roses can be smelled later. Right now, we are moving on to bigger and better things! The problem is that the roses usually wilt before I come back to them. I don't like that.

A friend of mine came to yoga class with me last night. He is a friend who I don't get to sit down and have coffee and talk with enough, so he asked me about life. Initially, I gave the pat, "good," but then I edited my statement and said that I don't know how to answer that question. There are days that I feel really hopeful and excited and there are days that I'd like to anounce to the world that I am moving to Hawaii. But then I started to talk about some of the myriad of people in my life, and I just visibly brightened up and I stayed that way.

That exchange got me thinking. The most important things in my life are relationships. Which don't require that I own a house or have a baby or really anything material. And this is obvious. But for the past few weeks, I have been searching for something to put me back on the road to contentment, and I realized. I have to choose contentment. I can write a long list of things I want, and I can dwell on that, and then I can create a plan for obtaining those things.
Or I can think about what I really treasure in life, and what really lights me up. And those things are almost always people. And I'm quite pleased with that.

A Little Less of Me, Me, Me, Please

I am feeling especially tired today (after 9 hours of sleep), and my appetite has been unbelievable. There have been many months that I would have used that information to think, "maybe I am pregnant," and then let my thoughts run away with me. I would have brainstormed the baby shower, my new workout routine, the nursery, "Mommy and Me" groups I would attend, and what I would put on the registry. Part of this is because I am a planner and part of it is because I am a dreamer.

When I was younger, I was always moving on to the next big thing as soon as the last was over. I didn't stop to savor very much; I simply paused and said, "that was great," and moved on. I remember this because my mom was always telling me I needed to stop and enjoy and not always say," what's next for me? what can I get excited about?" immediately. I think this was mainly because she wanted a break from carting me from activity to activity, but there was (and is) some truth to what she was saying. There is value to stopping and breathing and enjoying life. And I try to do that now, but it is so easy to slip back into "what's next for me?"

"What's next for me?" sounds a lot like "What about me?" which sounds a lot like "when do I get to be the star of the show?" Truth be told, I play a great supporting role. I like to love people, encourage them, and make their lives better. I don't know if I am always successful in that, but I like to try. Honestly, in this whole "baby fever" thing, I think I've lost a little bit of the supporting role I could have had, because I was so focused on me and I what I wanted (a baby, a well-decorated house). And I don't like that. I don't like how selfish I get sometimes. Like a kid in a toy store laser-beamed focused on the toy she wants with no regard to anyone else in the store. All of that energy spent thinking about me could have been spent on much better things.

When I think about it, I like the idea of playing a supporting role because I think humans were made to work interdependently, but our culture says that we should work independently and mostly look out for ourselves. Going with the idea of interdependence, everyone plays a supporting role, no one is the star, everyone is loved and taken care of. I mean, really, how many people could I have loved if I hadn't been so fixated on the baby I don't have? And how much happier would I have been knowing that I was working together with another human to make life a little better?

Baby Fever

Let's just be frank here.
I am in and out of baby fever all the time. All the time.
I love children, I love teenagers, I love adults. But there is this yearning for my own children, someone who will call me Mama. There is this yearning for the messy, tired, beautiful life that children bring and the desire to grow my family. I know Tim feels those kinds of things, too.
It seems like everyone around me is having babies. And it's possible that many of them may come and go. But my cousins Krissy, Stacey and Katy are pregnant, and I would just love if all of our kids could grow up together.

Tim and I have been married for two years now, but I have been substitute teaching for most of that time so that both of us could invest a lot of time in our church, youth group, and other relationships. I am just beginning the process of going hard after a full time teaching job, but of course, I could not accept such a job if I was pregnant because I am not planning on going back to teaching until all of my kids are in school for a full day. (The exception would, of course be if I could work as an online teacher from home, as my cousin Christine does.) So this is the dilemma, it seems: I feel like we don't have the financial stability to begin having children. If I were to acquire a full time job, I would have to quit it within several months, and we'd, of course, be back to one income. Unless I could work from home in a position such as an online teacher or a nanny.

Hm.