Sarah in Real Life

Moving Day

2010-03-23T14:52:00.000-04:00

I've moved!
Please update your google readers and blog rolls and visit me at http://www.sarahkoller.com.
See you there!

Find Out Friday

2010-02-19T13:39:00.002-05:00

In case you were wondering...

1. I have absolutely no problem with grass-fed meat or wild-caught fish. However, I have no desire to pay the price that comes with those things. I'd rather spend my money on Ladies' Brunch or cookies for "my kids." Perhaps I will become "that yoga girl who is usually a veggie, but sometimes eats the meats mentioned above"? No matter. I'm not too concerned with labels.

2. I have loved writing ever since I knew how. My dad taught me to write between the ages of 5 and 6. He taught me math with word problems because I loved the written word so much. In first grade, my fabulous teacher, Mrs. George said I should publish (meaning "turn in my story to be printed and then bound with wallpaper-covered cereal boxes.") Usually, everyone got published at once. But not this time. This time, I was special. So between my dad and one of my favorite teachers ever, I was hooked on writing.

3. You can win me over with very good chocolate.

4. You can also win me over by (sincerely!) offering to cook a meal with me.

5. I would really like to be able to do a handstand in the middle of a room (that is, with no support). I'm thinking if I keep practicing yoga, I'll be able to in a couple of years.

6. Hearing myself tell my story to my pal, Cindy, last night, led me to a particular conclusion: I may rather stay home during the day, typing up articles and recipes, and doing yoga during my breaks. I might rather follow up my dream day with lots of produce, a cutting board, yummy smells, and guests for dinner. But where I am right now is part of my story. And it is a good part.

7. In relation to the above fact, I'm fascinated with the following verse lately: "Then Jesus went to work on his disciples. "Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You're not in the driver's seat; I am. Don't run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I'll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to finding yourself, your true self. What kind of deal is it to get everything you want but lose yourself? What could you ever trade your soul for?" Matthew 16:24-26

Veggies Get Serious

2010-02-14T08:39:00.011-05:00

I am a vegetarian.

Phew. There, I said it.

If you have been reading my blog for a while now, you might know that I have done experiments with vegetarianism in the past. Experiments that were meant to last 30 days lasted 2 weeks. I determined that I was just not the kind of girl who was going to cut anything out and call it a full life. I had cut too many foods, calories, and joys out of my life in my past, and I was not about to commit to doing it again.

When my sister came home from her last semester of college, she decided to try veganism. Her courage to try something different and difficult, in the face of family dinners and meals at Olive Garden nudged me.

I really wanted to cut meat out of my life. By this time, it had been awhile. I had read many times that it takes several pounds of grain to create one pound of meat. Meanwhile, too many people are going hungry. Those thoughts tug at my heart. Because my love language, if I had to pick one, is food. That's how I love people. I want to fill everyone up with good food and good company. I want to see them smile and laugh and sit around a table telling stories and discussing life.

I just didn't think I could give up meat. I thought my body needed it. I thought I would end up even more tired than I already was.

But Katie's choices encouraged me to get back on the vegetarian horse. So, on December 26, I did. And so far? It has been a really great ride.

Up until now, I haven't made my choice public. Mostly, I have mentioned it as it has come up (such as when I have been invited to dinner). I have chosen not to discuss it a whole lot because I am not trying to recruit people to adopt my conviction. After a lot of trial and error, I have come to strongly believe that in addition to being created uniquely, every person has been given a heart that beats louder and faster for different reasons. Everyone has the capacity to care about a lot of things, but no one can carry that interest far enough to do something about everything. But in each heart, there are convictions. A different set. (And they may change.) It is those convictions that must be acted upon, because it is the actions taken based upon what the heart is truly convicted of that make our stories great.

Most of us (maybe all of us) have heard the questions, "Where was God when..." "Where is God?" I think it is fine, and even great, to ask tough questions. Those questions aren't too difficult for God, and he knows our hearts already. But when we ask those questions, we also must ask if we've acted upon our convictions. (And I realize I'm talking much more than vegetarianism now.)Because he has handcrafted each of us. He has put his thumbprint on each of us, whether or not we choose to call his son our savior. And with that, he gives us the ability to make changes in the world around us by acting on the things that really nag at us. Not jumping on bandwagons, but really paying attention to how we've been created.

So we can ask God questions. But we also have to ask ourselves questions. Have we acted on our convictions?

2010-02-12T16:51:00.002-05:00

Did you know that I love Valentine's Day?
I don't really go for the heart-shaped box of chocolates, roses, and doilies side of things, but I really like celebrating love. I like celebrating friendships, marriages, family members. I like celebrating life. To me, the two are intertwined. So, most Februaries, I get a little googly-eyed over everyone who loves me, every one who I am in the middle of cultivating relationships with. I gush a little.

And then I throw a party.

This year, I invited about 20 women, ranging in age from eighteen to fifty-something, from my church who I have been in close contact with in recent months. I told them, "Valentine's Day isn't just for couples, Ladies!" And then I waited.

And what I discovered made me smile. Because I found out that there are some women who are just craving girl time. They spend their days with children (who they love very much!) or working multiple jobs, and they do their tasks, their jobs, their assignments well. But sometimes? They just need to be filled up with a little conversation, laughter, and food. Girl time. It's almost funny that sometimes I think I'm the only one.

And it makes me smile(because I am laughing at myself)when I realize that the things I really love to do (cooking, hosting parties, bringing people together), the things that I have spent so much time thinking and telling myself are not good enough, not important enough are needed. They are needed for the mothers who see few adults during the day, for the women craving a good laugh, for the women who need to be reinvigorated. For the women who need a little encouragement.

I need them. Because when I invite someone in to my house to share a meal. When I spend time choosing recipes, cooking, and preparing to make someone feel welcome, taken care of, and comfortable, that is when I am recharged and when I feel most full of life and joyful.

I was wondering where my joy went.

I Eat the Bittersweet Chocolate

2010-01-21T17:04:00.007-05:00

About four-and-a-half months ago, I applied for a position that I didn't qualify for. I really wanted it, though. My mother used to tell me, "it doesn't hurt to ask," so I found some courage and went for it.

And I got it. A job right up my alley. I landed a work study position at Shri Yoga and Wellness Center. I greeted customers, learned names,kept supplies stocked, cleaned windows and mats, folded laundry, took classes, and met some extraordinary people (and one beautiful woman who is hard to catch wearing a pair of shoes). I was in love.

In the meantime, Tim and I bought our first house and decided to revamp the whole thing. The climate in my classroom continued to change as students came and went. I was still committed to my girls at Calvary. Time was tight. Date nights with Tim dwindled away. Time for dinners at my house or any other house was hard to find. And I didn't have much time to spend with my girls outside of designated allotments.

So I made the decision to end my work study position.
I talked with Pam about this a couple of weeks ago. We had some good conversations, and she said I shouldn't worry about it. Everything would work out.
And you know, she was right. My shifts are already covered. Which is not what I was expecting or even hoping for. Tonight is my last night on duty. And I was told all sorts of sweet things, like I will be missed, I will always be part of this community, and I can always come back (even to take a -shh!- FREE class!), which helps because this whole thing is bittersweet.

Tonight, in true Pam fashion, I completed my last shift without any shoes.

So. Who wants to come over for dinner?

Orientation

2010-01-14T16:06:00.006-05:00

Do you know who I love?

My girls.

I try to love them individually, not collectively, although my term for "them" suggests differently. I fail all the time.

I'm not sure if it's the weather, or the time of day, or the fact that I'm in weekend mode on a Thursday afternoon when I have to go back to work in less than 2 hours, but I am semi-seriously considering laying a few things out each year for my girls. Because I desperately want to see them blossom, and I don't want any perception of anything I said, did, or didn't say or do to get in the way of that.

What if I were to give out a disclaimer?
Here are a few things I might say:

1. Sometimes I don't know what you need. And although I know you might be going through something difficult, and you might not know how to tell me, could you please try? Because I'm trying to dig into a lot of girls' lives, and I miss a whole lot of signals in the process.

2. Depending on my day (or week or month), what has been said to me previously, or something else going on in my life, there are times when I cannot handle complaints about something my husband said or did. I try to be objective, but in the end, he has the best part of my heart a human can have, and there are times when I will be a little (a lot?) defensive. Please don't take this as a personal assault.

3. My absence from your game/play/party/concert doesn't mean I didn't want to be there. When I was choosing my own hours as a substitute teacher, I went to a lot more of my girls' events, and I still would have liked to attend more. Sometimes there are other commitments that get in the way of keeping a schedule that might seem ideal.

4. I'm human. I say thoughtless things and make lots of mistakes. I have bad days, and sometimes I'm grumpy. But overall? I love you. I try to get better at loving, but I love you imperfectly because I'm not Jesus. So when I fail you, try, please try not to let it rock your world too much. Try not to let it get you down. Try not to let it lead you to make big conclusions about life. Because I'm just a person who wants to hike with you on the best path.

And if you're ok with all that?
If you're ok with learning from and teaching someone a little older than you,
if you're ok with acting as a team to scale walls and keep from tumbling down steep inclines,
if you're ok with silence while the sunsets, keepings secrets, and digging for treasures, well, then,
we're going to have a grand adventure.

Better Than I Know Myself

2010-01-13T17:17:00.003-05:00

Do you know how much I love yoga?

My husband does.

So this afternoon, while wallowing in how tired I felt, how bad my sleeping patterns have been, my husband asked me to do 2 minutes of yoga with him. He urged me to do it. I whined. I complained. I wanted to lay in bed for the next couple of hours and wait for energy to come to me.

But I did those 2 minutes. And after 2 minutes of practicing crow pose, I felt energized. I felt excited to tackle my yoga practice.

Tim knew just what I needed.

And now? I feel fantastic.

For the Love of Life and Katie Jane

2010-01-10T07:45:00.006-05:00

Katie, did you see that I wore a tiara on my wedding day?

It's true. You and I have more in common than you might realize.

Several weeks ago, I skipped my ordinary yoga class to visit Hello, Bluebird with
Danielle, Dayna, and Steph

Not only did I end up having a great time with 3 beautiful ladies that I love, but I also discovered this.

Some of my favorites?

And just because it reminds me so much of Katie

Unsavvy Savings

2010-01-08T12:43:00.007-05:00

I love this man.

This morning, after some fairly harsh disappointment, he held me and told me he loved me. And my day got brighter.

Over the span of a few days,I've come up with a list of ways to save money on some of my favorite foods. It is surprising how many coupons and free samples can be found after a quick trip to the websites of my favorite brands! But it needs to be said that some of my efforts to save money have resulted in the cost of something else. Something greater.

I pursued a work study position at a local yoga studio several months ago because I thought that my job was going to be eliminated. I have fallen in love with yoga and I did not want to give that up, so in exchange for as many classes as I want to take, I agreed to work 4 hours a week for a minimum of 6 months.

I did not lose my job. Which means that "as many classes as I want to take" turned into "2 classes for my own sanity because that is all I can fit in while teaching full-time, volunteering at church, doing a 4+ hour work study, attempting to keep relationships in tact,and moving and remodeling a new house." It should be said that Tim (and Bill, Mary Ellen, my parents, Ed, Steve, and Matt) ended up doing most of the work at the new house while I fulfilled my obligations. And while yoga leaves me feeling great (and I am just as hooked as ever), my schedule has a)been very full, leaving me feeling overwhelmed much of the time, and b) not often coincided with Tim's schedule.

Part B is the worst part. Tim is my best friend, my partner. And we need time together so we can hash life out together, so we can root each other on, and so we can work as a well-practiced team.

But...
the fury of our home projects is dying down.
I am discontinuing my work study after my 6-month commitment is over.
I have found another free yoga alternative, a less time-consuming one (amazingyoga.net offers free podcasts).
Tim and I spent hours talking everything out last Tuesday.

And I am going to one of my favorite cities with my favorite person this weekend.

It's Starting!

2010-01-04T11:46:00.003-05:00

Well, we're moved!
There are still boxes to unpack, rooms to arrange, and projects to finish. I ended up wearing somewhat wrinkled pants to work today. But I now live in a cute little house in a neighborhood perfect for this moment in my life. Woo-hoo!

And...Tim and I have already been given opportunities to start our new adventure! On Thursday night (or maybe it was Friday?), Tim asked me if I would mind if our friends Josh and Heather slept over. On Friday. In the midst of boxes and dust. And I didn't. As long as they were made aware of the situation they were getting themselves into, I was ecstatic.
On Saturday morning, I brewed coffee and made pancakes out of a box and turkey bacon that had been waiting to be used. It was wonderful. When I left at 11 am, there were 8 other people at my house! I was loving it and I had a hard time tearing myself away.

On Sunday, Tim and I looked around at everything that remained to be done until our house could be declared suitable for get-togethers, and we decided to have people over anyway. My dear friend, Kristin, and two of her boys set to work on my house while I was out, and when I got back, I was able to enjoy their company, actually use my kitchen thanks to them, make a simple meal of soup and grilled cheese, and welcome more guests as they arrived. Pure bliss.

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

2009-12-29T14:54:00.002-05:00

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

2009-12-28T11:34:00.006-05:00

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.

2009-12-15T21:25:00.007-05:00

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

2009-11-20T13:17:00.005-05:00

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

2009-11-09T07:47:00.009-05:00

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

2009-11-08T17:47:00.008-05:00

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

2009-10-30T13:39:00.006-04:00

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

2009-10-29T12:33:00.003-04:00

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

2009-10-28T09:26:00.002-04:00

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

2009-10-26T07:40:00.006-04:00

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.

2009-10-20T15:20:00.005-04:00

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

2009-10-15T12:08:00.003-04:00

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

2009-10-13T18:01:00.003-04:00

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

2009-10-10T15:53:00.003-04:00

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

2009-09-24T21:04:00.003-04:00

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

2009-09-18T14:04:00.011-04:00

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

2009-09-17T12:11:00.003-04:00

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

2009-08-28T10:02:00.008-04:00

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

2009-08-25T21:12:00.002-04:00

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

2009-08-24T11:46:00.004-04:00

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.

2009-08-14T14:03:00.002-04:00

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....

2009-08-07T13:09:00.002-04:00

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

2009-08-04T18:29:00.003-04:00

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

2009-07-24T07:41:00.004-04:00

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

2009-07-22T15:38:00.002-04:00

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

2009-07-18T07:31:00.003-04:00

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

2009-07-10T10:58:00.002-04:00

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

2009-07-04T21:33:00.002-04:00

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

2009-07-03T16:01:00.009-04:00

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

2009-07-02T12:18:00.003-04:00

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

2009-06-24T20:26:00.005-04:00

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

2009-06-14T09:01:00.001-04:00

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

2009-06-10T07:49:00.001-04:00

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

2009-05-15T13:56:00.008-04:00

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

2009-05-13T20:28:00.005-04:00

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

2009-04-26T12:59:00.002-04:00

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

2009-04-23T21:30:00.006-04:00

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!

2009-04-03T15:14:00.026-04:00

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

2009-03-25T16:56:00.006-04:00

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

2009-03-13T22:43:00.004-04:00

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

2009-03-10T20:43:00.004-04:00

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.

2009-03-02T22:36:00.004-05:00

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

2009-02-15T17:42:00.001-05:00

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.

2009-01-27T20:44:00.002-05:00

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

2009-01-23T21:15:00.002-05:00

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

2009-01-18T15:55:00.003-05:00

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

2009-01-13T09:52:00.002-05:00

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.

There is Magic in the Memories

2008-12-15T11:31:00.002-05:00

I am tired of riding the roller coaster of hope and discouragement. I want to get off. Thanks.

I know that soon (in days or even hours) I will receive "unexpected" encouragement and I will feel strong enough to keep going. I will climb to the top and see beautiful things, and I'll suck in my breath like I've never seen anything more beautiful, I'll thank God, and I'll laugh at my shortcomings.

But right now, I'm in the valley, and it doesn't feel good. I know that some people don't like to hear this stuff from me. I'm the one that is "always happy," and cheers them on. But I'm not, and I don't mean to shatter anyone's world when I say that. But I'm entirely human with a full pallet of emotions, and I feel hope, anger, disappointment, joy, and dissatisfaction deeply. I identify with David when he waffles between "life is great!" and "I hate everything."
To those that think I am always happy, I show up looking like that because I am in love with the people I am with. That's love you see, not happiness. I suppose they look the same sometimes.

On a whim, I looked through my photos on facebook. It was a good idea, because I was reminded of so much that really matters to me in this world, which essentially amounts to people.
It has been said that the most discouraging thing about loving people is people, but the most rewarding thing about loving people is also people. I hang on to the that when I feel really low because it reminds me that all of this is worth it. Sometimes I am told that I should just relax and not let things effect me so much; I disagree. Because allowing my love for people to impact me as negatively as it does also opens the door the same "amount" of positive impact.

It's worth it. I feel better just being reminded of that.

I am a Liar, but there is no Lying in Heaven.

2008-11-20T21:08:00.002-05:00

I recently found out about a lie that was told about my husband in effort to proverbially save someone else's butt. I was sufficiently annoyed. I wanted to set the record straight.
My husband said no. After a short conversation, I realized that my annoyance was mostly related to pride.

Because I understand lying. I often lie when I am asked if I need help because I don't want to be a burden to someone else. I lie when Tim asks me what's wrong because I don't want to be a burden to him. (But I am a terrible liar, and he doesn't let me get away with it.) And lying always does the opposite of what I actually want- it works towards creating a wedge in the community I desire and encourages isolation- even when I "mean well."

The truth is, I desire community and true love, but those things are awkward. They look perfect and smooth in the books and the songs, but that is a false representation. I feel awkward when I accept help, I feel awkward when I am in the beginning (and middle!) stages of building relationships. I feel angry, disappointed, and sad to the point of (many) tears. But even while I am experiencing discouragement (which is often, because I desire to continue moving forward, and with new ground comes many unforeseen potholes, hills, and turns), I have the feeling that I am living in the middle of something beautiful. Just because I see beautiful things every day. Like the students that are thinking through the messages they are hearing for themselves and asking questions. Like the kids at the Community Center who, after nearly three months, are beginning to understand that I care about them and respond to that. Like the relationships with my kids and "Tim's" family (they're mine, too!) that are deepening. Like the encouragement that I periodically receive that maybe I'm doing ok, and I should just keep truckin'.

Things feel very bittersweet at the moment. But it's hard to imagine not always feeling that way to some degree. There are things that pull me down. Like the unloving actions of the church, the fact that orphans are treated as a last resort, the fact that people treat other people like objects. Like all the pain and suffering and misunderstanding and selfishness. But the sweet part comes because in the middle of it all, God still walks. He cares, he loves, and he is so much more heartbroken than I am. And it just.makes.me.long.for.heaven. Which is fine. Because it's such a reminder to put myself aside for a little while and live like I am part of the kingdom of God.

Lessons

2008-11-02T11:24:00.006-05:00

Right now, I am wearing a shirt that has become one of my favorites in the last few hours. It formally belonged to Aymie, and it is beautiful. I feel good in it. Comfortable and a little stylish.

I put it on while getting ready for church this morning, took my time matching the "correct" color pants to it, accessorizing, and all the while feeling...romantic? That's not the right word, but it's the closest I can think of at the moment.

I'm a little bit symbolic. I wear a widow's mite to remind me what it really means to be generous and a wedding ring to symbolize my commitment to my husband and what a treasure he is in my life. And today I am wearing Aymie's shirt as a celebration of all of the things her family has given me. They have given me some of her clothes, which has been a gift in that act alone. The clothes came when all of my things seemed to be wearing out at the same time and I could not afford a new wardrobe. I have been given pies and pizzas...but even better are the intangible things.

My words will not adequately describe my joy when I think about Ann, Eric, Stacey, Kevin, and Alyssa. I feel a little bad about that, but I will feel worse if I do not say anything at all. I have a relationship with a little girl who squeals when she sees me, who jumps in my arms and wraps her own tiny arms around me and gives some of the best hugs I have ever had.

Yesterday, we spent the hour or so we had together running up and down hills, rolling playground balls up and down hills, throwing and catching, digging holes to bury rocks and acorns in, and exploring the grounds at my mother-in-law's house. It is so beautiful and energizing to live life with a 5-year-old. Alyssa just embraces it, finds wonder and joy in "small" things. I love that about her.

I love that I've been able to watch her grow things like thoughtfulness and patience. I love that she shares things about her mom with me, and am priviledged to watch her absolutely beam when I say good things about Aymie to her. I get to be a part of a child's growing up, and I really, really appreciate that. Appreciate isn't the right word. I absolutely treasure it.

I cry tears of joy sometimes when I think about Alyssa, this little girl who give me so much joy. About Ann, Eric, Stacey, and Kevin, who allow and encourage me to be a part of Alyssa's life. Who give me the physically close extended family that I have always wished for.

What's interesting to me is that part of the reason I am where I am right now is because I have worked to push past my fears to do what I thought was and is important for me to do.

I am afraid of *everything.* I am afraid that my actions will be misinterpreted, I am afraid that someone's feelings will get hurt when Alyssa runs for me instead of them, I am afraid of joining a conversation because I might not be wanted.

But I have realized that I cannot govern other people's ideas of who I am. I can't control whether they thing negative or positive thoughts, whether they understand who I really am, or why I do what I do. Because I desperately what to reach for the actions and the attitudes of loving God and loving others, I am often changing, and I am a different person every week. And because I am a different person every week, I cannot viably expect everyone who knows me to understand all of those changes, to know who I am inside and out. I don't even know that.

So I have stopped worrying so much if Alyssa hugs me before someone else. I have stopped worrying if I am unwanted in a conversation and started paying more attention to people instead of my own insecurities. I have stopped worrying so much if everyone else understands my motives, because I know most of them don't, and that's quite alright. I have stopped needing credit for all the things that most people don't see. I have reverted at times to my former habits, but I have still experienced an amazing growth of joy and satisfaction. And I am so exhuberant over that.

Today, I am a Human BE-ing

2008-10-27T11:56:00.002-04:00

Last night, I realized that so much that has been bothering me has to do with the fact that I have been neglecting the things that nourish me. I have been trying to hand out cups of water from a well that has been drying up. I have been handing out less-than-exemplary water, and I have been exhausted from it.

Today, I am just trying to BE Sarah Marie (Lauterback) Koller. I am just trying to listen to what God wants, what is important to Him, and I am trying to pay less attention to what I believe will make me FEEL important.

I write lists every day. To get things done, to stay focused, to stay on top of things. And list are good; they are useful. But sometimes- sometimes, to be quite honest- I want to write my lists and check everything off so that later I can look back and read that I really did something worthwhile. It may be that I am a little too caught up in living life to the fullest, to make my life "count." Those are admirable goals, to be sure, but there are times that I get so caught up in the logistics of living a full life that I fail to do the very thing I was striving for.
How tricky.

So today, I will just be. I will write lists of what I believe to be important, but I will allow them to be secondary to the things that are important to God and the unforeseen circumstances that are a better plan than I would have chosen for myself.

Thank God for the Ability to Write

2008-10-26T21:04:00.004-04:00

I see writing as a gift from God to me. It is my best form of communication, it is how I often sort out my thoughts, it is how I stay organized. I am not a great speaker; I am a processor. Actually, my husband fell in love with me because of the letters I wrote and was initially a little disappointed that I don't speak as well as I write.

Writing is my best tool, and I am grateful, so grateful, that I live in a place that allows me pens, paper, and internet to record my thoughts. Often, when I write, I am calling in my God-given reinforcements and not really trying to bestow any knowledge or wisdom on anyone else. I'm just trying to be honest about who I am and what I'm learning. Donald Miller taught me the value of that kind of practice.

But I don't write enough. Sometimes it is because I have sorted things out through a conversation (with God or with a friend. Or with myself). But often, it is because I struggle with sitting down and taking time to do things that take time. Things that don't look good on a to-do list or a resume. Like reading, writing, cooking (for anyone, really), and taking some time to sit and reflect, do yoga, and thank God. But that's who I am.

One of my quests in life is just to find out who God created me to be, and then just be that person. And I do get frustrated by the fact that it is a process. Lately, I have feeling pretty weighed down, sad, and drained. And lately, I have been pretty busy. I've been trying to find a more permanent and stable job, packing, moving, working. But I haven't been taking enough time to do all of the things I need to do to be the person God made me to be. To be unhurried. To be refreshed and filled up.

That really took its toll.
Just last month, I wrote a similar post, related to what it feels like to veer away from who God created me to be. It seems I really have trouble staying on my own path. I constantly want to run over to someone else's, try it out, ask them if they think mine is pretty enough. I want to take whoever's path is easier and requires less map-reading.
I'm told that I will probably become more self-aware as I age. So it might be true that I will not be blogging about similar issues within a few years.
And I'm ok saying that I don't have it all together and my love is imperfect and I cannot answer all questions.
But. In practice, I am at least a little frustrated that I don't know what God had in mind, inside and out, when He created me. I'm a little frustrated that I don't see the obvious right away. I'm a little frustrated that life is a process, actually. I want to "have it all together" so I can know that I am living life to the fullest, which happens to be a passion of mine. I want to do this living thing well. I want to use my time wisely. I want to know what true love is, and I want to pass it on to others.I want God to be pleased with me, and more than that, I am afraid of disappointing Him.

I think that is really the bottom line. There is no ,"Sarah, this is what I expect from you," except "love God, and love others." And learning to do those things seems to take especially long for me because, as I have recently realized, it is part of my nature to take my time ( I was actually born 2 weeks late after over 24 hours of delivery, I'm a processor in thought and in conversation, I communicate better through writing than I do through speech, I love to cook when I have plenty of time, I prefer not to wear a watch...).
That bothers me.
I think I just want to know that God is pleased with me. And maybe that is what keeps me coming back to know Him better and to know His creations better.
It seems He's pretty clever.

Tis the Season for Comfort Food

2008-10-05T16:53:00.003-04:00

I love the autumn season.
The crisp air, the red leaves, hot drinks on cold days, sitting bundled up on a couch and enjoying the afternoon with friends. Sweaters and jeans. And everything pumpkin, apple, or caramel.

'Tis the season for comfort food!
Right now, my list looks like this:
-Beef and Barley Soup- I've made this once before, and it is fan-TASTIC. Definitely my favorite on a cold day.
-Vegetarian Chili. And Spicy Jalapeno Cornbread.
-Turkey Meatloaf and potatoes served a variety of ways (I'm a particular fan of the roasted variety.)
-Baked Apples
-Pan-Seared Oatmeal with Warm Fruit Compote and Cider Syrup
-Chicken Corn Chowder
-Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread

And you know, if you wanted to join me in a few of those eating occasions, I certainly wouldn't mind:).

2008-09-29T08:43:00.003-04:00

I've just been "off" lately.
In the beginning, I blamed it on a build-up of hormones (which I experienced due to the birth control I was currently on), which really messed me up mentally and physically.
But because I've been making efforts to correct the hormone problem, I'm realizing that something's off with me.
Previously in life, this sort of realization would set me off in to a tailspin. (Actually, yesterday I did not fare so well, either, but I am blaming that on a variety of factors, like a lack of sleep and lack of decompression time.) But I am beginning to embrace the fact that, as a human being, my role can be likened to that of an instrument. I live my life so that the teenagers I meet can have things like hope, encouragement, a forum for discussion and processing, and a lot of love. I live my life in support of my husband, in efforts to encourage and love the people I meet. That is what I would like to think.
But the truth is, nothing really gets accomplished on my own. I have an entire support system, and I would not be who I am without them. I am an instrument, and I live so that other people can receive beautiful music, which is essentially love.

That is my mission. That is my life.
But lately, I've been getting so caught up in little things. I've been getting caught up in "whatever hits me in the face" (to quote Norm Barker), and I've been missing most of the things that are really important. Relationships. Love. Time.
And I'm lucky enough to have some of those things built in my day, but some of those things I have to pursue actively. I have to visit people and call them to find out how they're doing and really learn who they are.
And I haven't been.

And I agree that part of my recent problem has been hormonal. But part of it is because this ingrained mission to love and encourage and invest time is part of who I am. It's how I was made. And when I veer away from who I am at the core, it just doesn't feel good at all.

A lot Going on: Abridged

2008-08-04T14:45:00.004-04:00

Last week, I moved in to the upper level of the house of a friend. Right now, despite the fact that the electricity suddenly shut off and I am roasting just a little, I am pretty pleased with that.

Last week, several months of planning came together when two friends were married at 11 o'clock in the morning on a rainy day. It's said that rain is good luck, and that rain was heavy. I love that kind of weather. Tim officiated, but I didn't get to hear most of what he said; I was in my element, running around, and making sure everything went smoothly. At reception, I really let loose on the dance floor. Despite the fact that I was the wedding coordinator, I was allowed, because I was also a friend. And I think I needed that dancing because when I went out there, I really let loose. I let all the stress and the fatigue and the business of the week out, and it felt really good.

Last week, I started something new. I decided not to weigh myself for 6 months. Weighing in is a trivial matter for a lot of people. But I take it to heart. I let the scale say things that it shouldn't have power to say. After reading a great article called "Why the Scale Lies," several weeks of sleep deprivation, about two months of a lop-sided fitness regimen of cardio, cardio, cardio, I decided it was a time for a (healthy) change. I had previously had a habit of not weighing myself, but I was afraid to go back to it for fear "I might gain weight." This time, I'm aiming for health and not a tiny number. I'm including (a moderate amount of) cardio, strength training, yoga, plenty of water, rather healthy eating (I've already discovered that pizza makes me feel horribly unhealthy, but I "can't go without" a few treats, like chocolate), and I'm aiming for 8 hours of sleep a night. Today is my sixth day, and already I feel fantastic. Healthy, energized, fit. Yesterday, I had planned on hitting the gym. But I realized I really needed a nap much more than I needed a workout, so I slept. It felt really good to make a choice that I new was benefitting my body (and consequently, a fuller life) like that.

Last week, I realized that I will probably end up substitute teaching again. Embracing this is really an exercise in humility for me, but already I have seen how this could really work out for my family (when I say that, I mean Tim and I, but I also mean family as a whole. Friends, relatives, aquaintances.) It allows me to be available at the store, to watch a friend's grandchild who just happens to need childcare very soon, to cook, to keep up the house that everyone else who is living in is way to busy to be able to keep up, to offer my time to those who really need it.
Ah, humility. It is not something I have a good grasp on, but I am learning a lot along the way.

Lessons in Marriage and Life

2008-07-23T15:14:00.004-04:00

Tim and I are moving next week.
Actually, we are moving in with our friends (and adopted family) Rob and Cheryl.
I like to take in reactions when a previously uninformed person finds out about our new living arrangements. My favorite so far comes from the beloved Jeannie, and was relayed to me by my husband,"Oh, that is so you guys!"
It is.

Tim and I are free-spirited people. And I'm quite comfortable in that skin. But I do wish I would have been more aquainted with "us" as a couple a year ago. I didn't recognize the free-spiritedness. I didn't embrace it. I loathed explaining our decisions to well-meaning people ("no, I am not working full time this year," "no, we are not looking to buy a house in the near future," "no, we do not want to have kids right away, and when we do, at least one of them will be adopted (hopefully more)," "yes, we are moving in with our friends."
I often felt like I was under scrutiny, and I was uncomfortable with that.
But...I ache for big things, and with big things comes uncomfortable, unwelcome limelight.

This year, I feel as if I've broken in a just-a-bit-too-tight pair of jeans. I'm comfortable and unashamed of who Tim and Sarah: the couple are. We do things that seem strange to people (but I would argue that those things only seem strange because they are not part of the American dream). We love community and people. We don't live by a 40 hour work week. In fact, Tim works much more, and I often do, as well. The paycheck doesn't reflect that, and that is ok. We don't aspire to be financially wealthy. This is the truth- our wealth comes from all the times we were able to love someone. All the times our actions said, "you are infinitely valuable." All the times we were able to help heal wounds. We don't accept money for helping people out, but we will exchange things. We risk a lot and we make a lot of mistakes.

And because of those things, there might be times when we are eating rice and beans at every meal. There will be times when we mess up royally. But beginning with our friendship and then moving into dating, engagement, and marriage, we have embraced the words found in John 10:10. "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly." Some of that fullness of life seems to be the recognition of the intricacies of who you are, embracing them, and then acting on them.

If I had really embraced what I embrace now a year ago, I wouldn't have let the scrutiny effect me like it did. I wouldn't have let it distract me. I would have been able to impact so many more people if I hadn't wasted so much time thinking I had to justify my actions to people that didn't have a particularly vested interest in me. But another lesson I've learned by now that dwelling on the mistakes I've made (it is a HUGE tendency of mine to dwell and beat myself up!) is just another distraction, often a spiritual distraction, from living life with fullness.

2008-06-21T21:12:00.004-04:00

I've discovered that, although I sing about all glory being for God, I sometimes really want the glory for me. I want to be acknowledged and thanked. I want someone to tell me that I'm doing a good job and praise me in public. (Is anyone else thinking about Pharisees right now? I am.) There was a moment last night when I knew I would ordinarily be upset because I couldn't share in the glory, but this time I wasn't upset. And it was wonderful. Fulfilling, even.

I've decided that "be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry" is my current theme verse. There is a lot that could be said here. One of those things is that there were times when I needed to correct my girls while I was a Harvey Cedars this week. And the thing about correction is that it really needs to be done in love. Now, I know that love sometimes means giving out what people need instead of what they want, and I know that love means that sometimes I will not be liked. I am working to learn how to love people like that and not worry about being liked. BUT. There were times when I did not correct in love. I corrected out of annoyance, anger, feelings of injustice. And while my words might have been the same in love or in annoyance, the heart certainly would not have been. And life is found in the heart.

I am not sure how to write this next part. I'm a confessed "ideas girl." I come up with lots of ideas, spread them around, and many of them never come to fruition. But I'm going to risk being cliche and say "things are different this time." This time, my ideas come from what it means to be the church, what it means to love, and what is indicated as important in the Bible. I have spent a lot of time feeling like I was withering at my church. Unfed and mostly unencouraged (which I will quality as different that discouraged in that I am saying that I really did not feel very encouraged. It does seem the two are pretty close in definition). This may happen again, however, it is not enough to point out what is wrong and allow my energy and resources and emotions to be drained and then inadequately replenished. I want to do things that matter, so I need to do things that matter. I need to meet needs.

I have come up with a list of feasible ways to meet needs. I'm encouraged by that. I'm encouraged by the fact that my ideas were considered at my last Women's Ministry meeting. I'm encouraged by the fact that there are at least a few people who have some of the same desires I do. James 1:27 says, "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." Right now, I am a little fixated on the "orphans and widows" part. I am a little fixated on what I can do to "make a difference." That is another difference this time- I'm more focused on what I can do and not on what I would need a huge collaboration of like-minded people to accomplish. I am not at all against huge collaborations. But I'm not there right now.

And right now, at just before 10:00 pm, I am incredibly sleepy. So this is where I will have to end my written thoughts for the day.

Goodnight:).

Getting to Sleep

2008-06-05T22:25:00.002-04:00

One day you will know so many strange facts about me that you will simply want to stop reading my blog in hopes of preserving your own normalcy.

Today's fact: I really have a hard time getting my butt into bed when Tim is not home. It doesn't matter that I'm tired. It doesn't matter that I have to get up early for work tomorrow. It doesn't matter that I've checked off everything on today's to-do list and I am no longer good for anything productive.

The truth is, if he came home NOW, I would get a hug and cuddle for approximately two minutes before I fell hard into dream world.

I'm thinking I have to grow out of this eventually, but it has been 1 1/2 years, and so far, no luck in that department. However, right now, I'm thinking I'll savor it. Because maybe one day, things will be different. Different can mean a lot of things, but I'm thinking that right now I'll savor the feeling that says I am enmeshed in someone else's life and things don't feel complete at this very moment. It reminds me that I am a part of something intricate and even breath-taking.

An Attempt to Break Writer's Block

2008-06-03T19:22:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I want to write, but I can't.
It seems my most journalistic moments occur when I am on a walk or alone in the car and far, far away from the possibility of writing anything down.
But, since this blog is kept more for the sake of honesty than journalistic endeavors, I am in luck.

Even though today is not one of my more poetic days, I feel the need to write. Because it is hard to write the first entry upon returning from a trip to Israel. Because the less-poetic days need to be recorded, too. Because if I don't write now, I just might fall out of the habit for far longer than I intended.

On some days, I seem to "wake up on the wrong side of the bed." The truth is, I almost always wake up on the same side, unless Tim has gotten up long enough before me that I've had time to unconsciously arrange my body diagonally across the entire queen-sized bed. But there are days when I am irritated almost upon waking. When I can't be pleased. I feel mean and dissatisfied and like picking a fight.

And it's nothing revolutionary, but my enjoyment in those days is the fact that I get another look at the parts of me that are Jesus and the parts that aren't. Grumpy you-can't-please-me-Sarah isn't Jesus. BUT, just like my husband (and actually on a greater scale), I know that my Savior loves me the same on my most difficult of days. It's freeing.

2008-06-02T07:13:00.000-04:00

I'm back from Israel.

2008-05-09T14:10:00.002-04:00

I need to be working.
I need to be working on an application for a job I really want, finishing and sending thank you cards for my birthday gifts that I received almost a month ago, sending "we're going to israel" cards, and finishing up a few last-minute details for Stacey's wedding.

But I have this writing itch that needs to be filled because here it is:
I have a hard time with the fact that I am not perfect.
The more that I examine that statement, the more obnoxious I find it. But the truth of it doesn't lessen.

I keep a blog in an attempt to be honest and work toward transparency. I find a lot of value in telling my girls at youth group stories that highlight my mistakes. I don't try to present myself as perfect because no one can stand next to that. I tell my girls that I would rather they be honest and tell me whatever it is they were afraid to tell me, instead of telling me they have it all together, because "I have it all together" is a lie, on some level.

But.
I know that my choices effect people besides myself, and that hits me. Hard. I try to make the best choices I know how to, but decisions are not always one or the other. The "right" decision is not always so obvious like show likes Full House used to make it look. The right decision doesn't always make me feel fantastic after I make it; sometimes, quite frankly, I feel absolutely awful. Sometimes I cry.

I am obnoxiously perfectionist.
What helps is to think that I can choose any moment, including this one, and make good choices now. I can make someone else's day better right now. I can do the best I can right now.

And maybe that is enough.

Bed Time Thoughts

2008-04-25T23:19:00.003-04:00

I'm craving a blog entry, but am not sure what to write about or even how to write it.
Right now, I feel like I am missing someone or something, but I really don't know what it is. I just have that "missing" feeling. I probably just need to go to bed. I have been a sleeping machine lately.

I've realized that I like to write most often when I am feeling challenged, when I feel tension, or am frustrated. I'm a processor, and writing out my thoughts is like therapy for me. So, for the few people that read my blog, I am a mostly dissatisfied woman. That's ok. It's ok for people to know "Blog Sarah." I've also realized I'm grateful for the tension, the dissatisfaction, the wrestling. I learn a lot through those times. I refine who I am. It's hard for me to point the correct words to it right now, when I "should" be sleeping. But. I think it goes somewhere along the lines of the idea that, if I were never faced with hardships, I might think that all of life was sweet. But I might never know what real love is, because I couldn't see what it was not. I might never be able to put my self in someone else's shoes, because I never would have been there. I might never build character because I would have little reason to.

Which is why I've become somewhat pleased with the aggravated feeling.

We Don't Serve Cake Here

2008-04-19T20:27:00.005-04:00

I am currently in the middle of a big pitty party for one, and there is no cake, no ice cream.

This sucks.

My thinking is that writing my thoughts down might make me realize just how Sarah-centered I am being and possibly add the benefit of shaking me out of it.

I wish that I had someone who would pour their wisdom and love into me. My whole life, it seems, I've wanted a mentor. I have known incredible women, to be sure, but I've never had a mentor. And God knows that all of those incredible relationships have not been enough for me, because I want more.

(This writing thing is working, by the way.)

Which is somewhat absurd, because I have often received encouragement at the most unexpected times. But not so absurd, because the problem isn't that I feel unloved. It's that I want someone to help me wade through what it means to be female, passionate, loving, servant-hearted. I want someone to show me how to love my kids. I want someone to show me how to more easily spot needs and then meet them.

I love life. I feel passionate about living, and I take it seriously.

It gets me in trouble sometimes because I get upset about things someone else might not deem as important. It gets me in trouble, because right now, I want someone to help me learn what it means to live well, and it seems I can't have that at the moment. And that kills me because I feel like I could be doing so much better if someone would help me decide whether to turn left or right once in awhile.

Midnight Rendezvous

2008-04-17T23:27:00.002-04:00

I need sleep.
But I need to write more.
Still, I am tired, so this will be an abridged method to holding me over in journalistic aspects for a little while. I might blog tomorrow during my free time.

I want to do everything. I mean that.
I want to be a fitness instructor. I want to write a book, start a volunteer organization, be an event planner, start a community kitchen, be a mom to 40 youth group kids. I want to be a mom want day. I want to cook meals for people who could use a hand up on that particular day. I want to be really involved in something that serves the needs of moms. I want to cook healthy, delicious meals, and get in about 5 hours of working out in a week. I want to hand out hope and encouragement. I want to travel and experience new places and cultures.

I used to think this wide-eyed "the world is my oyster" way of thinking was somewhat unique to me. I'm finding out that it is not. I am unique in the make up of who I am, but not in the fact that I am sometimes so overtaken by the bigness of the world and the handfuls and handfuls of good ideas that exist for what to do on the biggest playground called Planet Earth. I mean, there are people whose boo-boos need to be kissed, and fights that need to be broken up. There are people that need some love and attention, and there is food to be cooked. There are friends to be made and rides to be ridden.

One of the ideas that I've settled on to help me grasp the bigness of life, is that there is bigness in small things. Greatness doesn't depend on whether I carry out one of my big plans. It depends on the kind of attitude I carry when I serve my husband dinner. It depends on whether I am able to step away from myself to look for what the people around me really need.

So, if I want to open up a community kitchen, I'll start by cooking for people I know could use it. I'll start where I am.
Because life isn't about what I get paid for, or where I volunteer hours. It's so much more wholistic than that.

That's all I've got tonight.
It's bed time.

Healthy+Cookies= One Happy Sarah

2008-04-05T13:45:00.002-04:00

I've been thinking about experimenting with some healthier forms of baking. I love sweets.
Do you hear me?! I LOVE them.
For a good portion of my life, I have been drinking diet coke and sprinkling equal, splenda, or (gasp!) that horrid stuff in the pink packet that just tastes like cancer on....everything.
But if you've read some of my previous posts, you know (or maybe you have an inkling because I didn't really say it) that I'm no longer deathly afraid of getting fat.
And with that, I've been considering using sweetening methods that actually involve calories but are healthier for me. And my husband. And everyone that I serve them to.
So, today, I tried out Healthy Baking Experiment #1: No Bake Cookies (because I've been craving the delicioius combination of oatmeal and chocolate. I'm also a peanut butter fiend.)

Sarah's Healthed-Up No Bake Cookies
1 cup agave nectar
1/2 cup 1% milk (but any kind of milk would work)
1/4 cup Sunsweet Lighter Bake (which is essentially fruit puree)
4 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 cup natural peanut butter
3 cups rolled oats
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

In a medium saucepan, combine nectar, milk, fruit puree, and cocoa. Bring to a boil, and cook for 1 1/2 minutes. Remove from heat, and stir in peanut butter, oats, and vanilla. Drop by teaspoonfuls onto wax paper. Let cool until hardened.

I thought they were just a tad too sweet, but I'll have no problem eating more. Tim couldn't tell a difference and thought they tasted "like they are supposed to taste." I'm pretty excited that my first experiment went so well!

Sarah the Sponge

2008-04-03T22:49:00.003-04:00

I can never just go to bed as soon as I arrive home. I can't. Unless Tim does and turns off all the lights so I can't see anything AND I'm just really exhausted. But it just feels so unnatural to go to bed right after I get home. I want to let the evening (or the day) sink in.

So, I did that. I'm doing that. I grabbed a string cheese and an ice cream sandwich (because all I've craved since I got home from my run today has been dairy), briefly wondered why I didn't wear make-up today (this thought remained brief because I realized that I just did not want to take the time to color up my face and make me look just a little more awake than I actually am. I'm going for "honest and open" today, it seems).

And now, I'm just...savoring. It's a little bit like the way I treat a good piece of dark chocolate. I can make a truffle or a dark Dove Promise last a looooong time. To me, chocolate is something that should be savored and thoroughly enjoyed. The taste should just soak your taste buds. I don't usually need a lot of chocolate to be satisfied. (Ice cream is an exception here. I will take a lot of that, thank you.) Now I'm digressing and totally thinking about chocolate (which technically counts as dairy).

But the truth is that because I am a processor and because I am still soaking things in, I could not churn out a good post right now that could accurately portray my feeling and reflections and lessons learned. Maybe tomorrow. Right now, I'm just going to soak. And enjoy.

Why I Just Might Like Shopping

2008-03-27T22:36:00.002-04:00

I went shopping today. Of my own free will.
I subbed today, and after the school day was over, I hopped (and "hopped" is almost literal in this case) in the car at the first available moment and pointed my car in the direction of Park City Mall. I was really excited to go.

I've recently shopped in the junior's department at Boscov's (because we had a gift card to use. I ended up with nothing because what I REALLY wanted was jeans. Every pair of jeans I founded seemed to be tainted with spandex) and with Katie on a consignment shop hunt in honor of her birthday (her birthday was actually in November). Both were really positive experiences.

This is why.
When I go shopping, I pick up everything that appeals to me and is also in my price range. This usually ends up being quite an upper body workout for me until I can unload my findings in the dressing room. I try everything on and only buy those things that I really feel good in. Usually this is only a few things, and sometimes it is nothing.
Somewhere along the way, I have learned that the pair of pants that I love and doesn't fit doesn't reflect whether my body is "ok" or not. There are many times that a pair of pants in one size looks like it is clinging to my thighs for dear life, but the next size up is reminiscent of a slimfast ad. Short legs and full thighs will do that. It could be frustrating, but...
My girls have taught me a lot.
I hear them say things about their bodies that I know are false. That I want them to know are false. But the truth is, I'm not very credible if I'm preaching the fact that all bodies are made differently and they are beautiful if I'm picking apart my own body and berating myself for the fact that I can't fit into the pair of pants I wanted to buy.
I am healthy, and I am strong. I haven't gotten any of the sickness that have been going around, and I can carry heavy things. I am comfortable in my skin.
Now, I don't let the cut of a piece of clothing determine how I feel. I feel good. So I find the clothes that fit my body, that I feel good in, that reflect me, and I wear those.
It's only a few things because my body is unique.
Everybody's body is unique. Did you know that your body is not completely symmetrical? Not even one side of your body is the same as the other. How much does that speak to the fact that we are all individually created by God? Different sets of everything.
Seeing God's creation in everyone, in me, lets me know that he wasn't being mean or thoughtless when he gave me bigger thighs than I might have wanted. I think he was thinking of the fact that I am more of an endurance type of girl, I'm a processor, I take my time. I was born two weeks late after over 24 hours of labor. It's who I am.
So I bought two dresses today that I feel pretty in. I bought a cute and dressy shirt that shows off my arms. I put most of the things that I tried on back.
And I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

2008-03-09T14:19:00.001-04:00

Life is full of stories. Not necessarily stories with endings, just stories.

Here is one of mine:

This morning, I "taught" Sunday School. I choked royally.

Haunting

2008-03-04T23:14:00.002-05:00

[Sigh.]
I was going to write this in my little notebook. The one that goes with me everywhere and contains my lists. The one that no one else is every curious enough to ask me what it is or what I'm writing.
I love that freedom. I love the freedom of writing my thoughts down on paper, without fear of being judged by anyone else, and without the need to have my thoughts fully formed before I write.
However, a) I just proclaimed the need for Christians to be honest if we're going to be Christians at all to my girls two days ago, and b) this really is a low-risk endeavor because I'm pretty sure very few people read my blog.

Here it is.
Years ago, I went through the entire gamut of eat disorder-like behavior. I starved. I binged. I (sometimes) purged. The problem came in several forms. I was a chubby child (I much prefered the crazy adventures I had while reading books or playing imagination games to running around outside). I didn't know it until I was 11, my first year at a new school. I thinned out by the time I was 14, partly due to the regular exercise I got, and partly due to puberty's graces.
When you're chubby, people feel free to make comments about your body or the foods you are eating. "Look, Sarah, you can eat this!" Actually, it doesn't stop when you're no longer chubby. I felt uncomfortable when anyone referenced my new body shape. Like who I was was wrapped up in my pants size.
Somewhere along the way, I gained a couple of pounds. Probably because I was gaining hips. I'm 5'4" and have been since I was in sixth or seventh grade, and while my new looks got me attention then, I'm not quite sure I would look so good at 107-114 pounds at the age of 22.
I didn't get that. I didn't understand hips and curves, and that they're ok. They're good, even desirable.
And one day, I climbed on my Grandma's scale (one of the few times I was able to weigh myself because my family didn't own a scale), and the number was higher than expected.
I freaked out.
I was irrational.
I started counting calories, and then cutting down on them. Until I was eating too few calories to live on, to think on. But my legs didn't touch, and I felt skinny.
Skinny meant something to me. It said something about me. I had begun to believe the lies that my body shape was about who I was.
I was in my poetry phase at the time, and I remember writing about this terrible box and I created for myself, about the lock I put on it, and the trapped feeling that went with all of that.
And then one day, with some trepidation,I ate one of my favorite Christmas treats. I was so hungry, and they were sitting out. And it felt so good.
And before I knew it, I was stuffing them in my face, I was pushing open the box, jumping out, and sticking my chocolate-covered tongue out at it.
After that, I gave some effort to normalcy. But truth be told, I didn't know how to eat normally. For years, I had not eaten normally. I had eaten in fear of fat, I had eaten too few calories, I had eaten with somebody else's expectations in mind.
There I was, out of the box, without any clues as to where to go from there.
So I ate.
It didn't matter what or how much I liked it. I didn't feel any insecurity, any disappointments, I felt nothing bad while I was eating. But afterwards, I felt horrible. Stuffed. Disappointed and disgusted with myself.

It's been quite some time since my binging days.
I couldn't tell you exactly when I stopped or how.
I know the process vaguely, and it was painful.
And there was a time when I thought the urge to binge would NEVER come back. That I would not feel that desire to just fill my body with food, any food, but preferably peanut butter, sweets, or carbs. For no reason, other than the fact that I feel the emotional need for it.

Tonight I felt it.
[Ugh.]
I no longer hold the solo food-fests that I used to.
The urge came with a sugar craving, so I did indulge that. But I felt like I could just eat and eat and never feel satisfied.
Which is when I know it really wasn't the sugar I was craving.

For whatever reason, I was satisfied with putting pen to paper, either. Nothing would suffice, but a "hand" typed story, written for the "masses."
Here it is.

A little bit of Truth.

Love the Unlovely

2008-02-17T20:45:00.003-05:00

It was a good weekend.
A little tainted by the actions of a family member. She was rather displeased with me and proceeded to show me by acting rudely and attempting to avoid physical contact and ignoring me whenever possible.
This is a regular routine whenever I veer outside the boundaries of what she deems "appropriate."
By the end of things, I was anxious to go home and feeling quite hurt. But after some time alone and imagination over what I might say in a conversation, I decided that what I really needed to do is to love her.
And then I realized something quite valuable: love that only accepts easy assignments is really of little value at all. Because real love is something that is both tough and gentle, able to comfort, and able to withstand. And while it may seem silly to point out that Jesus did not command me to "love the lovely, the charming, the gentle, and the sweet," it's true. He commanded me to love my "neighbor." Even the cranky neighbors who are stuck in their ways.
Especially them.
So I think that what I received tonight was not so much hurt feels as a lesson in love.

2008-02-15T15:54:00.002-05:00

Let me just preface this by saying that a) this is going to be short because I have to change and leave within 20 minutes and b) I am a dreamer. I am aware my ideas sometimes seem absurd and far-fetched and maybe irrational. But....
Alyssa comes over tonight.
We have plans to make cookies. I've set out books full of stories and books full of activities, paper, colored pencils, and my ratatouille coloring book. I plan on swinging by my parents' house to pick up Disney movies. Alyssa will probably make up games for us to play. And we will laugh a lot.
I adore Alyssa. And Michelle.
I am in love with the whole Koller family.

This fall was terrible. Actually, I am crying right now just thinking about it.
And somewhere in the mess, in the tears and runny noses and cried-on sweatshirts, I saw that the Kollers are my family. I feel just as tied to them as I feel to the Lauterbacks or the Pulizzis. And I cried harder.

My desire to be close to the Kollers (to my family) is intensified. I crave time with Stacey and Kevin, Michelle, Ann and Eric, Alyssa, Krissy, Kathy, Debbie.....
And this crazy baby fever that it seems I always have is subsided because I have Michelle and Alyssa, and intensified because I want to bring new life into the world, because I want Michelle, Clint, and Alyssa to be close with my children.

I love the Kollers.
I am one.
And love is the most painful thing available on the planet and the most rewarding.

My Mutt Blog

2008-02-13T21:39:00.002-05:00

I'm have not decided what this blog will "be." 14 days ago, I intended it to be a place where I could work on my intended book. 14 days ago. Since then, I've revised my ideas. Already.
This is a thing with me. Last summer, I intended to build up a running club that would gain enough power to host charity races and turn all the money over to worthy causes. Last fall, I wanted to build up a service-oriented group of people that would effectively offer hours of their time to take care of needs. I imagined the group spear-heading a date night that would include a fancy dinner for parents and child care for the children and everyone beaming over the fact that the night just went so perfectly, they feel rested because of the framework of the evening or joy because they were able to offer time so that someone else could feel rested.
I have a lot of ideas, and I make a lot of plans, and there are quite a few things I want to do. I have a degree that will allow me to teach English classes to anyone within junior high or high school parameters. But I have also discovered a love for planning events, I want to eventually publish something, I'm hooked on the post-half marathon feeling, I love "my" kids at youth group. I love my husband, and I enjoy having people over, trying new recipes, reading, and someday, I really want to be a mom.
I admire really good teachers who stay at it for years (I don't admire those who don't love the students but stick around anyway). Good teachers don't seem to be all together common. But I don't think I will be one to stick around. Maybe I could be a good teacher, but I have this restless heart that just wants to explore. I love trying new food and going new places. I love reading about things I didn't know about and dreaming about the unknown.
For that reason, I can't put my finger on this blog. It is a mish-mash, a "mutt" blog. At times, "Save the Pineapple Juice" will be my cooking blog; at times it will chronicle my fitness attempts or the books I have read or the thoughts I am thinking when I just.want.to.be. alone and talk to my blog instead of people.

Possible Categories for a Book on Being a Youth Pastor's Wife

2008-01-31T12:29:00.000-05:00

2008-01-31T11:46:00.000-05:00

I sometimes set aside days just for writing.
And then I sit. And I write. Usually just a few paragraphs. In a day.
Sometimes I cannot wait to write. I cannot engage in another activity, even sleep, until I've written.

When I was a little girl, canned pineapple was a popular food in our house. My mom loved it, and quite frankly, I was always a fan of anything sweet, so I loved it, too. Depending on who craved the pineapple first, one of us would retrieve a can, pull out the can opener, and split the fruit with whomever happened to be around and hungry. But the juice was always drained into a glass, and it was something special. Sometimes we'd share the glass, sometimes one of us would be gracious and bestow the entire glass on one particular person. The juice was a treat, the contents of a can of fruit that I would have otherwise thrown away. Writing is pineapple juice drained from a can. It is the ability to extract something lovely from the ordinary.

I want to be a writer. I want to publish a book. In order to be a writer, I am required to write. But to be quite honest, I am really not sure how to go about writing an entire book that someone might actually buy and then read. But it seems I have always wanted to write a book, which means I at least have to try. I at least have to try. Because I refuse to wait until I'm older to persue the things I want to do. I refuse to wait until I "feel" like an adult to do "adult things." I've asked around- no one who I see as an adult feels like one.

So here it is. An opportunity to witness by attempts at creating a book that people (other than my adoring family and friends) might want to read, set goals and reach them, and just be very honest about life.

Welcome.