Washed by the Water

Journal entry: "Clarity"

2011-10-26T10:58:00.004-04:00

I was going to write about validation and call it just that. Instead, I'm moved to call this "Clarity." In the midst of a time dominated by needing to find validation (an unworthy and unrighteous endeavor), this quest for validation has finally come to an end, and with the divine absence of validation, clarity is allowed to push itself through.

I've been saying "it's not about me." I never meant it.

The heart change that only God could have done is realized because of the peace that passes understanding, and the desire to glorify the Lord in this season because of the LOVE HE HAS FOR ME .

1 John 4:16

"And so we know and rely on the love God has for us."

I had to chew on this truth for some time, and I'm still gnawing on it.

God/Jesus/The Holy Spirit does not depend on my life, nor does "how much" I love Him, what I do or don't do-God would indeed exist without me. Everything would move on. The reality of the situation is that my life is not about me. My own life is not actually mine. I can say this now with newfound clarity and assurance, thanks to the Gospel of Jesus.

Journal Poem: 19.10.11

2011-10-24T11:19:00.002-04:00

The Gospel says love.

The Gospel says serve.

The Gospel says speak.

The Gospel says go.

The Gospel says everyone but myself.

The Gospel says death

and the Gospel says life.

The Gospel says give it away.

The Gospel says Truth is alive.

The Gospel says freedom.

The Gospel says sacrifice.

The Gospel says to rest

and the Gospel says to move in joy.

The Gospel says to be still--

it is finished.

Journal entry: October 10, 2011

2011-10-23T21:50:00.003-04:00

Perhaps I should stop asking "What do I want to do?" or even "What do you want me to do?" These questions truthfully make this life sound all about me. And perhaps subconsciously, that is what I think.

So, it is with a full, expectant heart, that I pose the following to You, Lord:

What do YOU want to do?

I'm in it, but I'm not. I surrender to your purposes for my life and ask simply that you would use me for kingdom advancement; I would be honored to be part of the work at hand.

I pray, then, for peace of mind, clarity, and direction. In all the muddle of options, you are sovereign, and you know what's best.

Prayer: *Let me be to others as you have been to me, Lord.*Would that the Gospel radically transform me.*That the fruit I bear would be a result of a deep, intimate love with Jesus.*My actions and life choices would be motivated by such urgency to get the Gospel to others--mercy ministry be motivated by love of God for others and for myself, not by "what I can do for them."*In all things, that I glorify Him--an answer must be coming, and not just because I "feel" it, but because You are good, and I trust You.

I await the call as to where you're moving.

Journal entry: September 1, 2011

2011-10-21T14:53:00.002-04:00

When I'm not close to You, I'm sinking. The earth begins to crack open, the omen of shattering laying heavy among your people.

Sparks from the depth of the earth fly into the heavens--red and orange and black.

My mind, just before falling in, drifts to the ocean--good days of blessing and laughter and communion with You. I reach up to blue, all the while sparks flying forward and backward and sideways.

----------------------

I don't fall in. I sit on the ledge, feet dangling over the heated pit. It beckons flesh: gratification, "ease," wealth, promises (empty), worthless temptation.

I look back, realizing I don't have to do this.

A field beyond calls--a voice calls. The God/Man waits, and above the hellish voices, I hear whispers in my soul to come to Him.

There is nowhere else to go: He is it. I've always known, but a predisposition -- it creeps up every now and again.

-----------------------

I'm in a field of wildflowers. Yellow and white and pink, and the Savior of the world is with me, calling my name. He wants me, though I deserve the cracks. He is my stability. He keeps me from wandering.

Journal entry: July 15th, 2011

2011-10-20T13:21:00.002-04:00

Here starts (perhaps) a series of personal journal entries; I send them out to the blog-world in an effort to read through what I've written, sort it all out, and gain some perspective.

Today's "Jesus Calling" speaks of the danger of self-pity, how this invites us to step into a slimy pit of despair and depression.

I know from experience the depth of this pit and the cakey-ness of the mud, how it sticks to you, and you try and try to get out, to no avail.

It all seems hopeless, and so one day, you give up and just plop into the mud and cease fighting.

A long time passes, and eventually, it dawns on you that the only hope in the world is above you--not in the pit, not in other people, not in an imaginary utopia, and certainly not in yourself. So you look up to the light that was there all along and surrender to it, asking for help.

And God comes.

Trust grows.

Thanksgiving, despite circumstances, abounds.

While you focus on Him in trust, you begin to rise ever so slowly out of the abyss of despair. Finally, you can reach up and the hand of God rescues you. He pulls you into His light. He cleans you up. He holds you. And He clothes you in HIS righteousness, walking in the path of life.

Psalm 147:11
"But the Lord takes pleasure in those who fear Him, in those who hope in His steadfast love."

Small Notebooks and Memories.

2011-08-19T11:29:00.004-04:00

I collect small notebooks that turn tattered and ugly; I refuse to throw them away. They're used to record recipes, sermon notes, directions and phone numbers, to-do lists, grocery lists, wish-lists, books to read, new singers to check out, Scriptures, Spanish words I want to look up.

On top of all this, I fill the notebooks with random pieces of paper or business cards or flyers--it's all very messy.

I love a good notebook. I could never tolerate an electronic device. I want it all tangible.

One of my more recent tiny books has held a yellowed, crumpled paper that I started writing on about a year ago; the heading is simply "To write-."

I remember writing this page fairly soon after I got off the place from Peru to the US--the final time I'd cross from the Southern Americas for awhile. Here is what this almost torn-in-half paper says:

The American Dream
"having it all"
24 and married
ipads
mortgages/renting
Being something great
who we are, defined by society

If I had written on all of this in August 2010, it would have been me throwing up a load of complaints about our culture and society, progress, money and possessions, politics and the economy, expectations, etc: A diatribe on "Things that make Sarah angry." I'll spare you this, and instead describe an occurrence that made me sit back for a year and soak in all kinds of remarkable lessons that have led to healing.

There is a vivid memory in my mind, the thing that spawned this list: Sitting outside a yogurt shop with Leslie. We are in downtown Athens, taking in the late August cooldown (77 instead of 97 at 8 o'clock), chatting, but half-listening to a group of University students at a nearby table.

One girl in particular seemed to dominate the conversation while her entourage listened and perked up periodically. She was distinctly preppy-looking (I hate to presume she was in a sorority, but this is probably the case), talking to a group of co-ed's (the young men, I noticed, looking very bored). They were "discussing life," in their 20-something way, and she made a statement resembling the following:

"Oh I KNOW I'll be married by 24. I have to be--I wouldn't know what to do otherwise."

I chuckled at this comment then, and I laugh even still, now 25 and single. I've spent a year of "not-knowing." I potentially have years to come. But I've learned to rest. Maybe when I was 20 or 21, I too found it unfathomable to be a single 24-year-old. But in this year of transition, I've found a freedom in being with Jesus that I know is unique, unlike any time I'll have in the future as a wife and a mother.

I'm savoring it.

I'm learning about the invention of a so-called American Dream--we, in fact, cannot have it all.

I don't want it all.

I'm 25 and single.

I don't have a house; I'm renting a sweet apartment with Leslie as of a few weeks ago.

I don't own an iphone or an ipad.

I don't want one.

It's a daily lesson to speak the words to God: "Thank You for everything. I trust You." The days I forget to do so are pretty awful.

My potential, my beauty, my greatness, and my being are all wrapped up in Jesus and His righteousness clothing me. I do believe I have everything in Him--and I know He is directing my steps, even on days when I feel like I'm only walking along the edge of a cliff.

On Rain.

2011-06-23T17:24:00.002-04:00

What a time the last ten months have been.

I write as I listen for the rain. Spattered rumbles of thunder, shifting leaves as creatures move to find their way home. Clouds dipping low as the burnt gold glow of last sunlight dully shines through the trees.

Rain brings healing. The passing of seasons bring growth. As spring births summer, it's easy to become steadily comfortable. However, I want my heart to be always prompted to bear fruit akin to spring rains watering the earth, buds blooming and seeds lighting up.

*********************************************************************************

I wrote to You to bring the rain, and you did.

It was glorious, smelling hints of it and wondering if it would come--
then listening to leaves rustle as
big drops of water begin to land on the earth.

The cool steadiness of it was soothing, as Your Word to our souls.
The whiteness of the water contrasting against green trees:
Astounding.

Pouring down now.
More than just sending rain.
Flooding this place with even more proof of a creator.

Rooted.

2011-06-22T23:12:00.002-04:00

I've been reading a book by Mark Buchanan called Spiritual Rhythm. I highly recommend it to anyone, but especially to people who find themselves in any kind of transition. The following is an excerpt from the chapter entitled "Sustaining." Buchanan writes about trees and water and meditation and attitude and action....all sorts of things that he somehow poetically, beautifully, ties into Scripture. (See Psalm 1:3: "They are like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither--whatever they do prospers.")

Buchanan writes:

"And blessed are those who choose what, on the surface, looks bland, routine, boring: being rooted. In contrast to the frenetic activity of those who heed the wicked--a blur of motion, they are--those who heed the Word are immovable. The frenetic activity of the wicked increasingly parches them, whereas the stillness of the blessed continuously nourishes them. The blessed are not going anywhere, which in this case is a good thing. The apostle Paul warns that if we do not grow in Christ, bearing fruit, we will be 'blown here and there by every wind of teaching.' We'll be like tumbleweed, fallen leaves, chaff: something rootless. But we're meant to be trees, deeply rooted. Trees may be buffeted by winds, and bend beneath them, but if the roots are strong and deep, they stay where they are. Immovable.

Being rooted. That's a mixed picture. Does it convey stability or sterility? Strength, or cowardice? Sturdiness, or stuckness? Perseverance, or stubborness? Contentment, or complacency?

Both. It depends.

Sometimes rootedness is an alibi for doing nothing, going nowhere. Sometimes it's a failure to dream and take risks. Sometimes it's a way of justifying a life of complacency: 'I'm just staying rooted.'

But mostly, rootedness is a picture of strength. It's a picture of a life that is deep and vibrant, richly alive without having to chase the next thing, and the next one after that. It's a picture of one who 'bears fruit in season.'"

I read this and wanted to call up the author and thank him for writing it for me.. My prayer is something new, based on what the Lord has been teaching me of late. Before I encountered this chapter, I had already started talking about the idea of being rooted with Karen, a lady who essentially mentors me (whether she knows this or not).

Karen said I should just dig deep and plant roots wherever I am. Until recently, I would not have received this well--I wasn't ready. Furthermore, I assumed that planting roots meant that I was "stuck" in a particular place for the rest of my life.

But I see it now--it's just a part of life. When I plant the roots, they'll come up at some point--they have to. Trees live and die and are reborn from seeds previously blown into the wind, landing on fertile soil. It will probably hurt, this uprooting.

I have to go ahead and do it, though. The hurt will only mean one good thing: That I loved deeply.

My prayer then, is that I am rooted in Jesus, first and foremost. It's something I've prayed before. Meditation on the Word brings delight, brings rootedness. May I dig deeply into the Word, that it would saturate my soul and bring even more healing. Furthermore, that my rootedness would bear fruit; while I'm in Athens, GA, my hope is that people see the fruit of labor rendered in full pursuit of better knowing the triune God. Finally, that I am not complacent in this time of transition. I want to take risks again, dream again, live life to the fullest. As I approach my birthday, I recognize the roots I'm placing into this Georgia ground. It scares me a little, even still--but I am stilled in the knowledge that the Lord God is not only rooting me in Him, in this place, in this time--but that He is also helping me dig up all this fallow ground, making room for more fertile...stronger...better soil in which to plant.

For Stephanie, On Her Wedding Day

2011-05-31T00:22:00.001-04:00

To Steph:

Remember when I was back—it was the summer of 2009, and I felt like you didn’t let me out of your sight.

I recall watching you from your bed, before you climbed in and we slept, like sisters do. I commented on how we were a pair. You said something about being “best friends,” which I didn’t let into my being—instead, it bounced off my own wall of protection, a wall I didn’t know had been created.

“You know, we better pray you get married before I do,” I commented.

You turned to me, a look of semi-hurt in your eyes, your jaw dropped open.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, if I get married first, you would be…too affected. Unable to let me go.”

You chuckled, I tried to assure you, in my naïveté, that it didn’t really matter.

The thing is, you did let me go when I went to South America. And I didn’t understand at the time, but I do now: It doesn’t matter who leaves first, or who gets married first, because it is always very hard to let someone go.

So I write this now in the knowledge that I was wrong: You would indeed have been the strong one had God given me someone “first.” Instead, He now grows me in learning not only to trust Him, but to depend on Him in this time. Perhaps you saw the roots of these lessons come up in your own life while I was away…

So it turns out I’m not as “strong” as I thought. It turns out, it is very hard for me to let you go.

I know you’ll be here. I know we’re still wonderful friends. I know this because of Jesus and what He does when He binds sisters together who don’t share blood—it’s only in Him that I love you so much.

When the calls started coming to Peru from Georgia about this guy, I knew pretty quickly that Dane was the one for you. In fact, at the risk of boasting, I think I had this gut-feeling the first time you called to tell me about him. So, needless to say, I’ve had time to prepare.

In this time, I’ve discovered a few things:
I barely know Dane; however, the first time I met him, I saw how he looked at you. It was absolute love. Then, I began to recognize honor, protection, and respect. I’m so thankful God has brought you into marriage with such a man. I praise Jesus for Dane.

If I have to give you away, I can’t think of a better person you belong with. I can’t think of a better best friend for you.

I just ask that you keep me in mind. I will always, always keep you in my heart, Steph.

For My Sister, On Graduation

2011-05-16T12:38:00.004-04:00

Today, sitting on the other side of the stage was surreal. I forgot about the excitement you must feel over completing this phase of your life.

It was only three years ago for me; I now claim no knowledge as my own. I only claim Jesus and what He has imparted to me.

Here is what I want to tell you:

Dream big for His Glory--knowing He may humble you.

Make plans for His Glory--knowing that He may have another, better plan.

Take risks for His Glory--risking it all for the name of Jesus.

Make mistakes, not because we are "allowed" to, but because it is inevitable--and know that He redeems them.

Live hard and passionately for His Glory, willingly spending yourself for Him.

Go boldly into the world for His Glory--knowing that He aims to use you for His Kingdom work, so that all people will know His name.

In the midst of commencing something new and celebrating something finished, I think we are whirled into fallacies that our culture deems acceptable. But, I have to say this:

Life is hard. Life is beautiful, but it's just plain hard. You can't "have it all" ("it" being whatever our society defines as "all"). I don't think any of us really want it all, anyway.

God makes life joyful, hopeful. He gives us everything in His Son Jesus, and we get to live and rest and play and do life all because of this abundant, abiding ability we've been given. Trials come, but Jesus is there--He never leaves. He has overcome the world.

Keep dreaming, daring, adventuring, risking. But don't lose sight of the One who gives you the capacity to do this.

From Jesus Calling:

Thank Me in the midst of the crucible. When things seems all wrong, look for growth opportunities. Especially, look for areas where you need to let go, leaving your cares in My able hands. Do you trust Me to orchestrate your life events as I choose, or are you still trying to make things go according to your will? If you keep trying to carry out your intentions while I am leading you in another direction, you deify your desires.

Be on the lookout for what I am doing in your life. Worship Me by living close to Me, thanking me in all circumstances.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And if you faithfully obey the voice of the Lord your God, being careful to do all his commandments that I command you today, the Lord your God will set you high above all the nations of the earth. And all these blessings shall come upon you and overtake you, if you obey the voice of the Lord your God. -Deut. 28:1-2

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time He may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you.
-1 Pet 5:6-7

Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. -1 Thess. 5:18

Green.

2011-04-25T14:17:00.003-04:00

If someone had asked me a year ago if I saw better times coming, I would have laughed bitterly, snickering, and probably just cried my way through a sad monologue, trying to convey the depth of hurt and pain that I felt. No one would ever have understood what I was going through, I was convinced of this.

While 2010 saw agony and regret and bitterness and sorrow and many, many tears, 2011 is bringing redemption and healing. Praise God.

God is bombarding me with words and lessons and, perhaps more important, love. I still have hard days; I believe everyone does. To be honest, my winter, though it is leaving, shows its face every now and then. But the cool thing, the heavenly thing, is that when remnants of my 'winter of the heart' reappear, God has told me, ingrained in me, and given me the desire to take whatever hurt, whatever frustration, or whatever circumstance--and give it fully to Jesus and let Him have it. He knows what I'm going through. And in everything, I trust Him and give Him thanks for this moment, for just simply living life with me.

I'm seeing God's face and provision in countless small things. If anything, just reading my journal and tracing Scripture I've recorded, or conversations I remember having with friends and mentors--those are the things that help me remember that I am always going to be learning new things while I walk with Christ. He is teaching me about decision-making, being wholly confident in the Gospel, trusting Him and leaning into Him in everything, understanding that He is FOR me, how my attitude affects everything, seasons that come and go, and seeking first the Kingdom of God. This doesn't even scratch the surface, really.

Here is a song I wish I had written; instead, Sara Groves penned words that I know to be very true in this moment. It's a miracle that I can finally identify with this healing. Enjoy! :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wtpZfYG1nBs
It's been a hard year
But I'm climbing out of the rubble
These lessons are hard
Healing changes are subtle
But every day it's

Less like tearing, more like building
Less like captive, more like willing
Less like breakdown, more like surrender
Less like haunting, more like remember

And I feel you here
And you're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
But you are able
And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars and more like
Character

Less like a prison, more like my room
It's less like a casket, more like a womb
Less like dying, more like transcending
Less like fear, less like an ending

And I feel you here
And you're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
But you are able
And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars

Just a little while ago
I couldn't feel the power or the hope
I couldn't cope, I couldn't feel a thing
Just a little while back
I was desperate, broken, laid out, hoping
You would come

And I need you
And I want you here
And I feel you

And I know you're here
And you're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad, bad situation
But you are able

And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars (x3), and more like character.

Top 15

2011-02-21T11:28:00.010-05:00

Oh, how I love music. I mean, I adore music more than most really good things in this world. I love how it moves people, how it often means many things or sometimes nothing at all. I love the creative process that must go into it, though I know nothing of that. Above all, I love a good lyric. Poetry in music is profound.

I've been to several concerts of late, and then I saw pieces of the Grammys, and it made me start to think about some really wonderful songs. So, I've decided to share some with you, along with some thoughts as to why they mean something to me.

In no particular order, here are my songs and the stories behind why I chose them:

1. "Psalms 23," Trevor Morgan and Geoff Moore
This comes off the Glory Revealed II cd, and I didn't really discover the song until I was in Peru, though I'd had the album for awhile. My friend Ginny was talking to me about a verse in 1 Timothy (I think), and it made me trail off into Scripture and find some other relevant verses, and I came across Psalms 23. The performance is beautiful--the way Morgan sets the Psalmist's cry to music is deeply powerful. "You anoint my dead with oil, my cup overflows."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xYtWlMURWsM

2. "Be Set Free," Josh Garrels
I was visiting some friends in Portugal and we got to go to a pro-surf competition in Peniche (one of the most breathtaking beaches I've ever seen). Afterwards, we hooked up with some missionary friends who work with Christian Surfers. Just being able to see this ministry in motion was a blessing; we helped with their event that night, which involved showing "Walking on Water," an evangelistic film with pro-surfer Bryan Jennings. I was completely astounded not only by the film, but by the passion for Jesus within the surfing community--it was very cool. The movie's soundtrack was awesome, too, and I ordered both soon after I returned to Peru. This track is one of the most chill songs I've ever encountered. I've worn it out pretty well, but one particular memory surrounding it involves a trip to Puno, Peru. I'm sitting on a boat, looking out on Lake Titicaca (blue beyond blue), and absolutely soaking up God's creation. He says to be set free every day.
http://www.walkingonwater.com/themovie/

3. "Abre Que Voy," Miguel Enriquez y Su Salson
I have to include a salsa song on my top list. I'm back in Orishas in Peru, dancing my heart away with Julia, Edu, Cesar, Rosmi, y Manuel. This song is beyond fun and takes me back to lots of salsa dancing. I miss it. :) "Salseros, se llaman, 'yo vengo'...and la clave starts.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LMfCCQUBwg4

4. "Your Love is Strong," Jon Foreman
This man is pretty much one of my heroes of the writing world. The man can write. I can't say enough about Jon Foreman; if I could just have lunch with him one day and pick his brain, I'd be a happy girl. This song is on his Spring EP--all of his "seasonal" EPs are whoa-crazy-good...go get them if you don't have them already. I remember walking around a retreat center at night in the middle-of-nowhere Peru and stumbling upon a group of our summer missionaries singing this song at the top of their lungs. I just sat and listened and soaked it up in the darkened room.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hA7YIqWzKfQ

5. "Come and Listen," David Crowder Band
Who doesn't love some awesome DCB? I remember getting "A/B Collision" and being absolutely blown away-Crowder is a creative genius. I would play this song on repeat at UGA, driving around campus-the song is so simple and beautiful. "Let me tell you what He has done for me..."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUxF3LULDG4&feature=related

6. "Gold Digger," Kanye West
Alright. After a few Jesus songs, I know it might seem weird that this is a top song for me. And yet, it is a top song based purely on the fact that every memory that pops into my head when it is played is a fun one. The one that will always stand out is the night my senior-year roomies and I hung out at our apartment waiting for Sara Lawrence to come back as a soon-to-be Mrs. Mitch Kimbrell. Christy, Mel, and I were absolutely ecstatic and high on the adrenaline of the knowledge that our friend was getting engaged. We danced to many songs (including this one, in which they and only they know what dance move I pulled out), sang, jumped up and down and laughed in general. CT and I even set a record driving to the store and back to get chocolate and sparkling Champagne to celebrate.
No link needed--everyone in the world knows "She give me money, when I'm in need..." and the notes that follow.

7. "Hold You in My Arms," Ray LaMontagne
I first discovered "Trouble." Then I fell in love with Ray. When I discovered "Hold You in My Arms," I made Stephanie listen to it at full volume, pretending Ray was singing to us or something. This is an epic song that moves everyone who hears it, I believe. His voice is beyond powerful and soulful and sexy; his writing-genius is on display here.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O6O-8crNF_M

8. "I Exalt Thee," Chris Quilala
I had never heard this song until August 2008. I was at the two month training with the International Mission Board and some of the Journeymen began to meet in the small chapel at night for worship sessions. We crammed upwards of 40 people in a space meant for 10 or 12 and sang our hearts out to Jesus. Chris Black usually led worship and he pulled this one out one evening and it blew me away. It's so simple. I will never, ever forget worshipping with those people and having that incredible acoustic sound waft through the wooden rafters, lift into the clouds, and reach the throne of God.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-lY8VQpSTY

9. "Mexico," James Taylor
This is one of the most fun memories I have in life: The James Taylor concert in North Carolina with my aunt, uncle, and cousins in 2005. I was working at a summer camp around there so I was able to spend some time with them. We went to James Taylor one warm evening and sat on the lawn and soaked up summer. It began to rain during "Mexico," and we danced on the lawn in the rain. Best night ever. This is a great clip, but we heard the full-band version-a little more upbeat. :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FVAUP_Yigw

10. "Your Love, Oh Lord (Psalms 36)," Third Day
I loved Third Day even before I became a believer, which happened in September of 2009. I have been to more Third Day concerts in my life than anyone else (Bebo Norman is a close second). I love their sound, their lyrics, but above all, their purity in worship. This song is amazing. I will always rememeber my first mission trip: Honduras 2005. I went with Prince Avenue people, and one evening, Jacquelyn Gillette (who would later become my roommate and "JG") and I stood in a field, sky black with millions of stars lighting it up, and sang this song to Jesus. I close my eyes and can still see our shadows in that dark field.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QEF7IoQ3eUk

11. "Wildfires," Josh Ritter
Laying on Ryan's couch in Lima. An unexpected sunny day in May. All doors and windows open, breeze and warmth coming in. Music on at full blast, Josh Ritter singing this haunting song. A beautiful afternoon.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtCWvBpi37c

12. "Arise and Be Comforted," Watermark
This song is similar to "Psalms 23" for me, except I knew immediately the impact it would have on my life the moment I heard it. I bought a Watermark cd in 2006 and fell in love; I found more songs by them and happened across this one. I wore it out. Took it to Peru with me and wore it out there. It's an anthem for people who hurt, and we all hurt at some point in our lives. Christy and Nathan Nockels captured hurt and healing in this song perfectly.

13. "Lejos de Ti," Gian Marco
I'm not sure why I love this man, but I do. He's bald and at first look, not that attractive. Then I saw him in concert in Lima, Peru and pretty much almost fainted. There is something charming about him when you see him in person, and he is very attractive and has a beautiful voice. He has an awesome way with words in music, and he puts on a fantastic concert. Go see him, even if you don't speak Spanish. At the very least, listen to this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZWI5XqZLDQ

14. "Sunday Morning," Maroon 5
Open up all your windows on a sunny-day drive through the country and tell me if you don't smile with this song. I've done this many times and it never fails. Enough said.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S2Cti12XBw4

15. "Kind of Blue," Miles Davis
I didn't know much about instrumental music other than my Kenny G cd I had as a child (this is a fact that is hard to admit). However, as I started experimenting listening to other music, I heard a song by Miles Davis. I was about 13 or so, I think, and I went out and found two tapes of Miles Davis at Target. I bought them and began to fall in love.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FEPFH-gz3wE

The Beautiful Thorn

2011-02-09T15:15:00.002-05:00

Today I found a Peruvian thorn in my scarf.

Driving down 316 into Athens, passing familiar sights on the way to Walmart, I fingered the blue and brow-striped cloth wrapped around my neck for warmth on the chilly Winter day. I started a little as something stabed into my finger.

I looked down and saw Peru. My eyes registered memories instead of the actual object sticking through the end of the scarf. I felt very little pain from this protruding object; instead, happiness engulfs me as my lids shut and I remembered:

Trudging through the plants, I realize the thorns cover my cltohes, embedded into the threads that interwine. I try to pick them out, but no use. My failed attempt doesn't phase me in the midst of such beauty.

I feel the wind in my hair as I climb up enormous hills in Tinajani, sharp, jagged rocks flanking my sides; behind me, a green valley with a river cutting through tall grasses. Ahead, clear blue skies, the sun casting shadows on the images carved into the rocks by the hand of God. Dancing.

I hear the brush underfoot as I trample through plants with unknown names. I hear other footsteps, but am wrapped up in my reverie. I pick tiny flowers to hold onto throughout the trip. No reason or rhyme to this. Holding them lightly so as not to crush them, I stand in silence among years of ancient story, known only to the natural environment in which I find myself. And of course, to the Creator.

----------------

The Walmart parking lot is full of money, old and new. I enter thrhough the automatic doors, walk straight to my destination: The photo center.

I pay for the 33 prints of Peru. I smile as I open them up and touch my friends--some familliar, some strangers. I gaze around the store aimlessly. My steps lead me swiftly out of corporate hell.

I clutch the paper memories, climb into the car, find the thorn in my scarf, and smile in the silence.

A Long Wait.

2011-01-30T23:37:00.002-05:00

Well hello, 2011.

It's been about three months since I posted anything on the ol' blog; to be honest, it's been about that long since I've written anything substantial at all.

I continue to journal and write things aimlessly, but nothing that I've aimed at developing to post and actually do something with.

This is me declaring my highly anticipated (wink, cough, laugh) return, after a short break, to the internet sphere of the writing world: The ever-present, sometimes hated, and never boring BLOG (cue dramatic music).

The blog is a funny entity to me. There are serious ones, stupid ones, funny ones, useless ones, useful ones, entertaining ones, boring ones, inspiring ones, etc, etc. Apart from channeling Dr. Seuss in that catalogue of blog-attributes, I would like to adopt an attitude based purely on sharing with you thoughts, stories, and the happenings of my not-so-interesting life (for the moment) on this blog.

I will attempt to convey something of worth or value as I write. This is not an evangelistic effort by any means; if anything, it's to share, through written word, life with anyone who happens upon "Washed By the Water," to the glory of Jesus. Not your Central American neighbor Jesus--Jesus Christ, Son of God, only Way to the Father God.

No apologies. No regrets. No false words. Just truth, reality, and life (maybe with some questioning, lamenting, rejoicing and cheesy emoticon "happy" smileys thrown in). That's my aim.

If you read these words, be blessed. More to come in the next few days.

I Believe In Miracles: A Reflection

2010-11-05T23:28:00.003-04:00

Since returning to the United States on August 9, I have gone through more valleys, high mountains, big storms, hellish waters, calm waters, and beautiful fields where peace has indeed overcome my soul. With such differing circumstances, you can imagine my emotions have exceeded what one might classify as an "emotional limit," if such a thing exists. I've cried for hours on end, only to be followed by very happy times, whether spent with Christ Himself, family and friends, or just experiencing something new and being blessed in that.

Here are a few things that I've been astounded by over the last three(ish) months:

1. Soon after returning, I received a car loan from a ministry in Jonesboro, GA that gives cars to missionaries on furlough. I get to keep this car for about three months (ie, my time with the Nissan is coming to an end). It's been such a blessing to have a cheap car for such a time as this.
*Prayer request: I am going to need a car after I give this one up (there is a waiting list; believe me, I've checked to see if I can extend).

2. The International Mission Board kept paying me. There is a reason they keep the paychecks comin': I had zero desire to work once I got back, mainly because I couldn't figure out all my emotions and what was going on around me. So it's been nice to live off of what they (ie, Southern Baptists) have been giving me.
*Prayer request: I need a job. Yes, I've applied to a lot of things. Yes, I've interviewed with several of those things. Nothing has come of it. This job hunting thing pretty much sucks, but I'm confident God knows what is happening and something will come in time.....[PLEASE GOD, let it be time soon!!!]

3. I have been able to travel some and visit good friends. I've been to Greenville, SC, Raleigh/Durham, NC, Memphis, TN, Nashville, TN, Moultrie, GA, Athens, GA and Macon, GA. If I could, I would have hit up FL, TX and KY. Those are on the to-do list.

4. A kind lady named Brenda in Nashville counseled me. She was the first person who was willing to sit down with me and just listen. I cried more than anything, but she was okay with that. I debriefed with her, her husband, and some friends in Nashville and spent time on her farm, which is one of the most peaceful places in the world. And I grew to love Nashville (and Brenda) in that time. So thanks, God.

5. I spoke to Jesus. I mean, I'm still speaking to Jesus. I've spoken with Him in the past, but never like when I got back here. I had an encounter with Him like I've never had in my entire life, and a healing process started because of that encounter, for which I'll be forever grateful. I'm relearning a lot of things and discovering new ones. Praise God for He is good. Beyond good...Great...Enough.

6. I have gotten to talk to my parents. Some things have been revealed to me through observation and conversation, and God has moved in incredible ways--restoration, understanding, and maturity have come.
*Prayer request: Keep it comin'!

7. My sister Cristina has been someone to lean on. Praise God.

8. I met a lady at Starbucks the other day. I was listening to her conversation (yes, eavesdropping is bad, I know). But this was a God thing. I ran after her once she was done counseling a couple to ask where she goes to church. One thing led to another and she asked to meet with me and hear my story. We went to her church to chat (a really big one around here, that I like--it's just so BIG) and she sat with me during the singles/college worship deal and introduced me to some people. We'll see if God does anything with that. Regardless, the sole fact that I met her, and that she was such an encouragement to me and willing to help--that was enough.

9. God sent me someone right before I met Karen, the Starbucks lady. Jason was another Starbucks guy (I go to Starbucks a lot). I knew he was going to be in town; he works with the IMB as a Hispanic Mobilizer and he wanted to meet with me. Despite me showing up on one day and him showing up on another, we eventually connected twice during his time in Atlanta. I had no clue what this guy was going to say. In the end, though, he was a God-send. He too wanted to know my story and ended up listening and working through some things (mainly forgiveness issues) with me. So thanks, God. And thanks, Jason--a new friend who calls me "mija" ('my daughter') and prays for me.

10. Some might already know that I went to San Francisco for a visit. I went with the purpose of visiting a seminary (Golden Gate Baptist Theological). I came back with new friends and a newfound interest in being in the Western United States. I loved the school, the people, everything--there exists such passion among Christians there to see people around them come to Christ. It was refreshing to be out of the Bible Belt and see the need for Christ IN OUR OWN COUNTRY.
*Prayer request: For San Francisco, the whole Western US, to come to the Lord; that people in the Bible Belt would get up and move and see that this area of the country can stand to lose a few Christians to go be missionaries to North Americans in California, Oregon, Arizona, Washington, etc.

And finally, the big one: I would like to move out there as well. I would like to go to seminary. I would like to devote my time to walking with Christ in purposeful ministry while studying the Word in a formal context. Ask me about my goals, I have a lot of them that come along with moving out there.

The point of my "Top Ten Cool Blessings/Miracles" if you will is this: I may be continuing to walk through the waters, but God is walking with me. Sometimes (a lot of times), He even picks me up and carries me. I see that now. He did it in Peru, too.

My life isn't all about crying right now. Yes, there are some very hard days. But through my grieving and through lament and sorrow and pain and not understanding, Christ Jesus has blessed me immensely, even in the last few months. I just wanted to share it with y'all.

Much love to you.

Northern Adventures: Part 3

2010-10-31T21:40:00.002-04:00

I don’t want to leave this place, but Julia and I are hungry. Our intended hippie-jewelry browsing is apparently not going to happen, as we catch up with Sandro, who offers to take us to one of the best restaurants in Mancora, of which I forget the name. Just take my advice: When you arrive in Mancora, walk towards the center, and this restaurant will be on your right with a wooden patio in the front.
Walking through Mancora, I realize quickly just how ‘cholo’ (redneck) it is. But this town has its charm, manifested purely in the hippie presence. We find this ‘spectacular’ café (per Sandro) and Julia and I order to-die-for sandwiches and Maracuya drinks. It’s at this dinner that we start to get to know Sandro better. Not because he is drinking (though he wants to, and reassures the waitress that he would except that he is our chaffeur); instead, he opens up to us about his life in Peru:
Sandro, fifty years of age, knows everyone in this town. I really think he must be famous. He wears shirts unbuttoned one-button-too-many. He is divorced, a pituco from Lima who claims to actually be more Italian than Peruvian. He tells us stories about people he has gotten drunk with. It’s a running list, including former President Toledo, current President Garcia, and maybe even, as Julia and I conjecture later, ex-lover Jaime Bayly, pundit extraordinaire and my favorite Peruvian, next to Gian Marco, of course.
We love every semi-truthful claim Sandro makes. We believe him because he is our friend in this moment and because the Pisco from our Maracuya sours is making us laugh more than usual.
After dinner Sandro suggests a drive through the “better” beaches: Vichayito, Las Pocitas, and others. We agree and he drives like he owns the private properties and hotels that we enter, using the excuse that we are interested in a stay, when in reality, we are exploring solely for the sake of exploration. All I know, in this moment, is that we’ve left the “big lights” of Mancora for untouched darknes, and incredible stars, accompany my growing desire to move to this place. My stargazing lasts the whole ride home as Julia and Sandro tell stories and I half-listen, stumbling out of the car and moving away from the few lights illuminating the bungalows so I can take in the peace being imparted into my heart from each star. They are the fingertips of God.
The next morning Sandro takes us to a taxi stop to get a ride to Tumbes. He is chatty today—saying he knows the guy clearing that piece of land, that those cows used to graze on his property, etc, etc. He knows everyone, including cows, apparently. On the way to Tumbes, the landscape overwhelms me. Green takes over brown to my right, and the ocean continues, unending, to my left as we move north toward Ecuador. I can’t place the smells around me; Julia tells me it’s burning land. Rivers and inlets and waters are everywhere. A woman naps in a hammock just off the road.
Once in Puerto Pizarro, Rigoberto, Sandro’s friend (of course), approaches us. We don’t have to approach people here for help, as we do in Southern Peru—the people here are so much friendlier. I’m in love with Rigoberto and the Manglares. “Rigo” or “Berto” doesn’t wear shoes, but I notice he has flip flop tan lines, and he smiles and jokes with us and asks for English lessons. Our tour includes a Portuguese girl, which adds to the mix of tongues. English, Portuguese and Spanish float around my ears as the boat calmly penetrates through rivers and estuaries and makes ripples in the river-forest.
The estuaries cut through bushes and shrubs. Birds take over and color is everywhere, as are boats and the ubiquitous smell of fish. “No hay vago” (There isn’t a bum) here, says the man with a constant smile. I could live here, too, in this never-ending heat, this perpetual summer. They were right for once, the Peruvians—summer lingers here forever. Clouds come and go and tropical rains invade. But I like that.
We say goodbye to Rigo and leave our adventure in Tumbes, which is not an impressive city, but it overflows with happiness. We drive back and I can only think of the wave of fatigue that has rushed over me, but I can’t close my eyes, not yet, because I’ll miss something beautiful.
Our last afternoon on the beach is spent sunbathing. I am the only one on the beach, and my codependent tendencies vanish in the knowledge that My Creator is next to me. The Spirit is here, speaking and teaching; Jesus and I chat about life. It's an all around really great late afternoon. This time of day is incredible, with the wind picking up and the clouds coming in. The sunset will be spectacular. The water starts to change colors. As I sit on the sand, I observe a man paddling far out in the water, standing on a raft. My reverie is interrupted as a plethora of crabs inch closer as if they are going to attack me.
The last night in Zorritos is peaceful. That sentiment characterizes this place: Peace. It’s July 4th, but Julia nor I know it because we’re the only Americans on the beach and drunk on relaxation. I celebrate with another sunset, crabs poking out of the sand, and, later, a drink with Jaime Bayly talking on TV. I suppose if Sandro had been around, my last night would have been spent drinking with him, Jaime Bayly in the background, and hearing Sandro’s stories about their love affair.

Northern Adventures: Part 2

2010-10-26T12:51:00.001-04:00

From my spot in the front of the bus, I finally see a small sign for our hotel. I collect a still-drugged Julia and we disembark in the middle of the highway to the bungalows that have been beckoning me since late May. Our bungalow is about 30 steps from a private, deserted beach, and I almost cry because I’m so happy.
In our relaxed state, we sink deeper into this idea of doing absolutely nothing in Zorritos. Sun and clouds mix together. No one is around, save for a couple on their honeymoon. I walk around in my swimsuit, trying to talk myself out of stipping off everything altogether. Our first future friend arrives to welcome us to Bamboo Lodge: Sandro. We don’t know he will become our friend and ‘pituco’ (snobby) Northern Peru chofer/Sugar Daddy.
Between doing nothing and getting a sunburn, Jenny the cook makes us some incredible fish and Sandro takes us into town. He plays European club music in his car. We come to find out he lives in California and has his own business there; he’s in Peru to see family and help with their business.
Zorritos is everyman’s town. I wander around, in awe of the people not wearing clothes or shoes. I’ve just come from the cold weather in Arequipa and Lima, where scarves are worn in 65 degree weather. I drink a cold, icy, glass-bottled coke and relax while the Peruvians watch me. Not many tourists get to Zorritos—most stop in Mancora, about 30 minutes south.
I leave the shack-restaurant and wander back to Sandro. No matter if he leaves, though, I could stay and live here. I’ve convinced myself of this already. And anyway, someone would certainly give me a ride or find me a ride back to the bungalow.
On the way back, Sandro stops for gas in front of a shanty-town area. Two houses with people just hanging out are the main attraction, and you know their source of income is the gasoline sold to travelers. Sandro hops out and fills up, talking to the guys outside while Julia and I take in the all-too common poverty. Sandro gets in the car and knows what we are doing, as he watches us survey the situation. He says this, in the Spanglish he has adopted for us (even though Julia and I both speak Spanish): ‘There is poverty, pero se viven felices’ (There is poverty, but they live happily). It’s true. Just from my fifteen minute adventure to town, I can see this. I wonder if tourists understand that there is more to Northern Peru than nice bed and breakfasts; that life here often means nothing and everything all at the same time. People eat together, sit outside together, wave to each other from the road. A light is in their eyes, a happiness that seems different even than the Southern North Americans that I know.
After more beach time (I literally could stay on the beach all day), I move from doing nothing on the beach to doing nothing in the hammock. Sipping coffee and listening to waves, I hear a stranger’s voice talking to Sandro.
‘Sarita, this is Pascual, the artist I was telling you about.’ This is not what you might be thinking. Sandro was not trying to set me up with Pascual as a potential love interest; rather, Pascual, ‘spelled with a ‘k’ because it’s artsy’ wants to show me his paintings. In my free-and-easy state I humor this guy as he begins to show me geometric paintings that are just okay. Geometry and I have never gotten along—this goes for book learning AND understanding the aesthetic value of shapes on a canvas: I don’t understand either.
Surprisingly, Paskual with a K opens up a breathtaking piece, and I know I have to have it. I don’t know how you are about art, but my theory is this: If it takes your breath away, it’s for you. Don’t buy something to fill a room—buy something because it was created for you and you know this in your bones.
My painting is a horizontal blue and black view of the ocean. Paskual has captured the ocean and waves perfectly, reflecting the moonlight and stars off the water—A simple and not-enough description.
I pay Paskual and find out he is coming with us into Mancora. Sandro has offered to take us because ‘we have to see Mancora, it’s fabulous.’
Julia and I pile into Sandro’s crappy car once again, this time with my new artist friend, who is chattering away about beach life. I realize I’m having a mini-adventure with the man who painted my new present-to-myself, and a smile fills my face.
We stop to take some pictures in Cancas, a port town. Its full of boats, and the smell of fish saturates your nostrils. The boats float on the calm ocean and pelicans inundate the blue ocean that conspires to float into an even bluer sky, which tonight, promises a spectacular sunset. We leave our perfect vantage point to get to Mancora on time in hopes of catching the sun disappearing underneath the water from an even more perfect vantage point.
Julia and I thank Paskual for his kindness and make our way to the ocean, pausing only long enough to tell Sandro we’ll find him later (it’s a small town, and everyone knows Sandro). It’s funny how ugly can so quickly give way to beautiful: Mediocre streets populated with people asking if you want marijuana lead to a serene beach with surfers crowding the water in a perfect, not-too-crowded way.
If you’d taken a survey of the people on the beach watching the sunset with us, you would have encountered representation from the following countries: Poland, Great Britain, Spain, Argentina, Australia, North America, Peru, Sweden, Germany, Italy and maybe a few people from France. I didn’t ask for said survey; I just know they’re there. I’ve met these people as I’ve traveled Peru—this mix of people from around the world that just leave wherever they are to take a chance at seeing things they’ll only see once or twice in their lives. I know this because I recognize this sentiment as the common bond that knits us together.
Julia and I find a spot on the small strip of sandy beach, joining a multitude of people who apparently had the same idea as us: Watching what must be a daily display of glory, magnificence showing up in the form of a massive star sinking under the ocean, painting the sky canvas a myriad of colors.
Since being in Peru, I’ve come to love sunsets even more because you’re never disappointed. As a girl who grew up on the East Coast, I would have grand aspirations of waking up early on beach vacations to catch a sunrise. However, for a girl who is not a morning person, this goal was never successful. Instead, good intentions almost always morphed into me hitting the snooze button and rolling out of bed at 10 AM.
So today I take it all in with Julia and the tourists. Fifteen minutes allows us to feast on visual pleasure that includes watching surfers live it up on wicked waves that make this beach famous.

Northern Adventures: Part 1

2010-10-24T23:42:00.000-04:00

God made Northern Peru exceptionally well. I’d only been here three days, but I already knew this to be fact.
Julia and I slept in a twin bed (I hate sharing any bed, much less a twin) on a freezing Lima night, the air water-droplet laden. We slept for about 2.5 hours before dressing in our tank tops and t-shirts with heavy coats draped over us to eventually shed as the Northern heat brought us out of the miserable Peruvian winter.
We were going North, to the beaches people have called ‘divino’ (divine) and ‘increible’ (incredible).
Good Limenos know to migrate North in the winter. The beaches are known for the warm temperatures year-round and amazing surf. In comparison to the bone-chilling Lima winter months, it’s heavenly. After only a few days in Lima, I had to get out.
We make it to the airport after hailing a taxi at 1 am, always an adventure in Lima. Lima taxis are something one prays will work in his or her favor. We can only hope that the taxi driver is merciful and trustworthy as Julia and I climb in. At the airport, we decide to each take a sleeping pill. It’s approximately 2 am, our flight arrives in Piura (translation: The Desert) around 5 am, and we have to find our way about 3 hours west to the coast. We leave Lima tired but semi-alert, at least conscious. I don’t remember much after buckling my seatbelt, as the sleeping pill had completely set in with its wonderful trippy side-effects. I would later find out that our pills were higher dosages for motion sickness (a common pill sold in Peru that apparently also has the effect of knocking one out).
Our plan upon arrival is to embrace the fact that we don’t have a plan. (This is my fault, by the way—I figured I would buy our plane tickets and my responsibilities were fini.) I was unaware that my decision not to plan would cause the following to ensue.
I wake up and we are in Piura, stumbling off the plane as if we’d been drinking tequila all night. We figure that the easiest way to get to the coast is to take a van or taxi; however, at 5 am, two gringas can’t expect to receive anything easily from Peruvians, regardless of the fact that Julia and I have both lived in Peru for two years. The van wants to charge us 300 dollars. Dollars. Not soles, dollars. We’ve already spent an arm-and-a-leg to get up here from Southern Peru, so this is out of the question.
We take a taxi to the bus station and find a ride for 15 soles, about 5 dollars (score!). Julia and I know we found a deal, but as with all things cheap in Peru, it usually comes with a price: Comfort and time.
Good thing we are drugged.
The drive from the flatlands of inner Northern Peru to the coast is bumpy and winding (typical). Julia and I have seats in the back of the bus. Imagine being in the very last row on a rollercoaster as it twists right and left, leaving very little time for you to think about how sick you feel; this is the bus ride for us. The saving grace of this trip is that the roads are not one foot away from a 200 foot drop into ocean.
All I see between sleeping and being jerked awake is desert, and I start to wonder if we’re in the wrong place, maybe going to a not-so-heavenly place instead of my promised Eden. But then I start to see some green. Then the bottom breaks in two and blue is below you. It sparkles as the sun’s rays pierce it and the current, and the waves create a picture of glory.
My idea of heaven has always been wherever water meets sand.
As I revel in the knowledge that I’m almost to my destination, I look over to see that Julia is dead asleep. She’s not even asleep, she literally appears to have died. She bumps along with every uncertain movement that the bus makes, swerving around potholes, making sudden stops to avoid hitting cars or people, or just simply careening around curves so fast it seems we’ll fall over. It doesn’t phase her in the least.
After our supposed 2.5 hour journey turns into 4.5 hours, I start to worry that we’re on the wrong bus, we’ve missed a stop, etc. Living in Peru forces one to learn how to not worry and go with the flow. Be flexible. However, there comes a point when the anxiety creeps in over the suspicion that a well-intentioned Peruvian probably gave you wrong directions, suggested you eat something that is ‘clean’ when it really isn’t, or puts you on the bus to Northern Colombia instead of Zorritos, Peru.
Julia is no help, so as we leave Mancora, I start to look for our hotel in Zorritos. Peru’s beaches are so untouched that few signs exist to indicate where they are. This could also be due to the fact that no Peruvian actually knows where they are exactly. The man in front of me, however, is a local, and he gives me ‘good’ directions to our stop, and I realize we are actually getting close and I have to now tell the bus driver where to stop.
I make my way up the death-aisle, smelling every Peruvian on the bus, listening to the World Cup coverage on their radios, and being tempted by whatever foods they’re eating. Once in the drivers cabin, I awkwardly stick my head in, butt hanging out the small square contraption that resembles a doggie door. I sense every eye has miraculously opened as I passed and is now staring at my backside.
I turn on the charm for the bus driver and his faithful assistant as I ask him where we are and inform him of the impending drop-off. I’ve shamelessly learned during these two years how to get what I want by flirting. (This is a topic for another story.) A Peruvian man usually will not be ambivalent with Julia or me. While this sounds strange, you eventually (and maybe also unfortunately) get used to all the attention. Needless to say, I’ve learned the advantages that come with being a ‘gringa guapa’ (pretty gringa). In this case, I get a free ride up front with my new friends.

Jungle Inspiration

2010-10-23T15:58:00.004-04:00

The sunset just changed. The clouds begin to open up and a peak of sun showed itself in orange and pink God-glory. The music of strange birds and jungle bugs combine with earthly musicians, the forest sounds overpowering more sweetly the tones produced by human hands.

Previously brown rain water from days earlier catches and soaks up the sky colors and begins to look not-so-murky or stagnant. Something once ugly is transformed into heaven's essence.

The sunset changes again. In a different kind of quiet, the rays disappear, the orange burst sinks down, and the shifting of the clouds create a bright jolt of light softly screaming from the fluffy covers.

"Life is always changing, every moment," I think to myself.

Let go and embrace it.

"October Poem"

2010-10-01T00:56:00.003-04:00

Today I want a sunset over the Pacific.
I want the lighthouse
and the stroll through curved landscape,
turning corners, hoping for the sun to
display itself in magnificence.

I miss the slowness of it-
the way it comes down, tinting
clouds pink and yellow and orange.
In loneliness, a good sunset calms a soul.

The sea below contrasts the slow setting sapphire
as it rushes into rocky beach,
sands peppered with sharp objects
that make it nearly impossible to walk barefoot.

But no mind-I miss that too.
Amongst the joy of sunset, I miss the pain inflicted
in walking on rocks, edges piercing into skin
like sharp arrows bursting into every cell of the body.

Contradiction:
Pain and enjoyment.
Visual pleasure and physical discomfort.
The beauty of life, of another day done,
overcomes the momentary hurt.

I'd do it all again.

"Anatomy of Grace"

2010-09-15T00:01:00.003-04:00

So I say I believe in Blood.

Then why doesn't Grace run in control of my mind,
down my spinal cord,
filtering into my blue veins,
dripping into them
and giving life
while finding Home.

The Grace that cleans hearts
and removes debts
and saves souls.

Video: 2010 SBC Pastor’s Conference

2010-09-06T17:44:00.000-04:00

A good word from Matt Chandler.

Video: 2010 SBC Pastor’s Conference

A Walk.

2010-09-01T00:43:00.003-04:00

I miss walking.

So this evening in Franklin, Tennessee, I took a walk.

Step 1: Find somewhere to walk. I get a recommendation from my friend Lindsay Cade. She suggests a trail by a lake reserve that is fighting for its life from new housing developments.

Step 2: Conquer the trail off Otter Creek Road.

I set out in my jeans and sandals, not intending for this to be an intense walk. I'm off, with all the intense walkers and runners passing me by. I don't care much.

I crunch through the leaves and dirt on a small trail, getting junk in my sandals. I keep looking down, partly out of real interest as to what I might find, partly to shake the rocks out of my shoes, and partly to hide tears coming out of my almost depleted tear ducts.

I about-face when I look up to see light through the trees reflecting off water. Anytime a spec of something promising shows itself, I will get myself to a good location to watch, post-haste.

A cute little boy and his dad pass me as I speed walk toward the paved road that curves around the lake in hopes of a good view of God's handprints.

Deer are to my left grazing in a sea of green stuff, in what I can only assume is peet. I ignore the couples walking around and the kids on their bikes, and I listen to the frogs and the fish sploshing out of water. I hear bug-music and smell sweet Tennessee air and I stop: God is here.

The Creator of the Universe brought me out here and is with me, showing me His creation. I'm doing what one of my favorite Southern Literature professors told me to do for years: I am breathing in my surroundings. Calmly sitting and observing where I come from.

The colors continue to bounce off the waters. Clouds change form and a plane flies through them, creating the illusion that the world above might actually exist within the water itself. The bugs and the fish blow bubbles on the water, making it look like millions of rain droplets that are being sent down from the heavens.

My gaze shifts and I see a spider on its web. My eyes adjust to its smallness. Once adjusted, I notice more spiders scurrying around and they suddenly become larger than my surroundings as I stare them down, watching them craft their silk. I finally begin to focus on the finite movement of hurried legs spinning the web.

I'm in a trance when Spanish floods my ears. A family is walking by me, and they are taking pictures. They are from some Latin American country (if they are taking pictures of everything under-the-sun then God knows they could very well be Peruvian), but I don't ask details. I only offer to take a picture of the whole family. I so want to speak to them but I hold back.

Darkness is coming and I have to turn away from the color fading into night. As much as I want to hang around to see the finishing touches, I don't want to get locked into the park.

I drive down the lane the same way I drove in: The windows down and the music off. I want to hear anything else the would has to offer me. I pass the gigantic houses, making me think the park was a dream.

I see lightning bugs float around in their bubbles of light.

The red-to-green flicker ahead of me in the distance signals my entrance into the man-made construction of time and the real world once again.

Peru family.

2010-08-26T23:39:00.003-04:00

One of the things God taught me about in Peru was this idea I have of family.

My idea, I have to admit, was very small. I struggled with loneliness, and I often ascribed these feelings to not being around family or friends who REALLY know me.

I left Peru last year in July trying to escape and find satisfaction in my blood-relatives. I returned to Peru with a heavy burden based on the knowledge that I was guilty of the aforementioned confession.

Through other events, God began to show me about family as he sees it:

Marta, my Peruvian friend, became my sister; her mother became a Peruvian mama. Caroline in Portugal and Susan in Africa were my soul sisters on different continents. Steph became my best friend during this time and loved me as her own family. The mother of a former roommate at UGA encouraged me and loved me from Georgia-there's a reason I always called her "Mama Freida."

Furthermore, the Americans I encountered in Peru took me into their own families, for which I am so grateful.

I was thinking about you all today, missing you. While I have my biological parents here and my girlfriends and other supporters and prayer warriors, I miss my Peru family:

I want to move back in with Rebekah and Michael and hear "Crocodinosaur" from Gabriel. I miss Jenny's laugh and John's jokes and Caleb's stories and Elijah's excitement over seeing me. I want the Rains boys's hugs and Kristi's hospitality. And I hate that I can't walk down the street to the Christy's house and have Mark climb into my lap.

While I lived away from my Stateside family and friends, you guys loved me and showed me what family is. God used you in my life and I am blessed by you. Whether you fed me, housed me, or just let me hang out with you and your kids, the time you gave me and allowed me to enter your homes was so precious, needed, and it beautifully illustrated how the body of Christ should work.

(Shout out also to Scott and Meghan Dillon, Amy and Christian Listro, and Randall and Susan Anderson and all your kids.)

Muchos abrazos y besos.

happy things.

2010-08-25T01:22:00.003-04:00

This is a brief (or not-so-brief, whatever I feel like doing) list of things that make me happy these days. At the very least, they are attempts at making me happy.

1. Seeing my dogs and just laying with them on the floor.
2. Going on a walk and sweating so much that I detoured to an empty pool afterwards and jumped in.
3. Being blessed to have a car for a few months.
4. Visiting with old friends and telling stories and laughing a lot (or crying a lot).
5. Sitting in bookstores and reading to read.
6. Seeing old Journeyman friends. They just get it. I don't have to say much.
7. Unexpected rain showers.
8. Ray Lamontagne and David Gray live-in-concert.
9. Sitting with my sister.
10. Remembering Athens.
11. Making "The Salsa."
12. Discovering and re-discovering modern-day bards (Jon Foreman, Jorge Drexler, David Gray, Josh Ritter).
13. The late-setting sun.

A Metaphor.

2010-08-17T13:41:00.002-04:00

I went to the wedding of two beautiful friends on Saturday: Lindsay and Noah had a worship service to celebrate their union. It was lovely.

A wedding is something God rejoices over because He created love. When two people commit to serve God together for the rest of their lives, the Son is glorified. The Father is glorified. The Spirit is glorified.

I was humbled to witness two people I deeply respect profess their love for Christ and for each other. As I sat and watched and worshipped with them, a thought came to mind that I've been wanting to write about for some time:

Christ runs after His people::

I want to be run after::

Pursued.

I'm pursued by Christ and I deserve to be pursued by a Godly man someday, just like I imagine Noah went after Lindsay; He went after her, he wanted to be wherever she was.

Ponder this:

Noah and Lindsay's wedding is a metaphor for the marriage of Christ and His people. Noah's pursuit of Lindsay is a metaphor for Christ pursuing each one of us.

Metaphors are intriguing things. You find them throughout life, sometimes screaming at you, sometimes hiding from you until you, having garnered more wisdom, unearth them.

This has happened to me. The unearthing.

I'm still digging them up, but they're mine to dig. I know others before me might have already discovered this particular metaphor; in my case, understanding has come.

Hairdressers, Quarterlife Crises, and Truth.

2010-08-13T22:54:00.005-04:00

I went to get my haircut this week and had a lovely, albeit random, conversation with my friend Lorena, who has been making the Junco ladies look beautiful for the last nine years. She is a not-so-sassy (I would describe her as un-stereotypically chill) Latina of Mexican decent with a little girl and a husband named Carlos. They're pregnant with their second child, they work with the youth group at church, and they have been recently "discussing strongly" (I take this to mean fighting) the issue of child-rearing.

After my hair was perfectly shaped and sprayed, I hugged Lorena and we exchanged numbers, saying that I'd love to visit her church sometime (a positive thing considering I am without a church a right now). I left the salon and sat in my sister's car that I now periodically borrow (I'm without transportation currently) and came to the following realization:

My hairdresser, with the exception of my family, is the only "constant" in my life.

Let's start with a question, one I have for the masses: Is the PC term "hairdresser," "hairstylist," or "cut specialist" (or something else I am unaware of)? :)

Another question is one you might have for me: Why the extremely dramatic and semi-confusing statement about Lorena being your only "constant?" Let me explain...

People in life come and go. Friends you had when you were eight are probably not the friends you now have, except maybe in Facebook-land (which doesn't really count if you don't keep up with them), or if you grew up in a really small town.

I left college two years ago and proceeded to leave the country; I recently returned to a completely different world. My family is still around, but my friends are scattered and in different life situations (jobs, relationships, etc). I'm entering a "quarterlife crisis" that doesn't bode well for my already fragile state. (As I write the words "fragile state," I remember the Scripture that says to be "bold and courageous," and I'm trying. As I write "I'm trying," I remember that I should stop trying and just let go.)

I want to embrace the change. I'm trying to enjoy starting over because everyone tells me it's an exciting thing. But I have to admit: It's hard and it's scary. Good thing I know deep down in the part of my heart labeled "TRUTH" that God doesn't promise ease or happiness all the time.

Today I wanted to speak Spanish. I wanted to walk or take a taxi. I wanted all the white people to go away. I wanted salsa music and dancing. I can still have those things in North America, which is fine; I suppose my heart is just pulling me in various directions--North, South, East and West. I'm not sure where I'll end up, but I'm trying to remember that my home is what I make here with Christ.

I'm thankful I have Lorena as a "constant," among other people (my dentist, my doctor, and the cashier at Publix).

At least in all the movement around me, I can listen to salsa music with her, comment about how I'm tired of gringos now, and speak Spanish (although I'll have to learn Mexican slang now).

I'll make the transition in time.

Home is wherever I'm with You.

2010-08-09T21:52:00.004-04:00

I stepped off the plane today and the humidity blessed my dry skin with moisture that it hasn't felt in two years. The heat attacked my face in a love-punch way, one in which I might regret as more hot August days draw themselves out before the cool comes. But for today, I embraced the hostility.

I made the silly decision to take my contacts out on the plane in order to sleep without having them stick to my eyeballs. I didn't have my glasses. You can guess what this then entailed: Me, walking around blindly, trying to navigate my way out of the airport. At one point, I followed the crowd toward the restroom thinking it was Immigration. Had I not realized we were all going to the bathroom, I probably would have walked into the men's room unknowingly.

There's a metaphor in here for something, I'm sure--walking around blindly, following the crowds, etc, etc.

I saw my dad (though squinting to make out shapes) and felt my face contort even more and had this moment of "don't cry, Sarah, keep it together." I couldn't stop it. He wrapped me up and didn't let go and I didn't let go and didn't want to let go. For now, Jose Junco is the one man in this life who will protect me and love me despite my imperfections. What a picture of grace. Praise God for my dad, who loves me as God loves us.

I cried at random moments on my first day back in the Land of "You-can-have-it-all:" Hugging my mom, seeing a Latina Chic-Fil-A worker, sitting at On the Border, walking through a mall. I can't explain much right now. I just know that the "Welcome Home" and "You are back, great!" comments chalk up to more confusion for me; or perhaps, examined in another light, they provide an answer:

My earthly home isn't here. I'm not sure where it is. I think I'm learning that it's okay that I have roots and meaningful connections and pieces of my heart in various places with many people. Life is about the valleys and the mountains that God uses to refine us into the image of Christ, to have streams of living water flowing from within us. Maybe those valleys and the streams that run through them and climb into the mountain hilltops are shaped by the hand of a God who embraces vulnerability that comes with giving yourself away to others.

May my life always be about giving.

flesh and dreams.

2010-07-24T00:55:00.003-04:00

"you pulled me from the wreckage
of bitterness and blame
flung open the page
and put some flesh on
the bones of my dreams."
-David Gray, "Flesh"

-------------------------------------------

These aren't the kind of dreams had at night. They're not the kind that tell you something super spiritual that might be from the Lord. It's not a "I Have a Dream" dream like Martin Luther King, Jr. encountered and shared.

The kind of dreams I'm talking about are the things that you want so badly that can be attained if they are meant for you; they're also the kind that may just stay dreams.

When I was a child I dreamt I would one day become the President of the United States. I dreamt I would swim in the Olympics and win medals. I dreamt I would become a successful lawyer.

About fourteen years later God has given me new dreams. Some constantly change while some have stayed the same for a long time and will stay with me forever.

I dream about being a mother and a wife. I dream about traveling the world and meeting new people and having new experiences. I dream about sharing life with people in physical and spiritual need. I dream about one day looking around me and seeing all of my extended family together (whether it's my grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins, or whether it is my own old eyes looking out over what I have birthed).

One of my dreams is constant, and it's something that I love doing with all of my being: I have this ache within me that says "Write. Just write."

I've always loved Jo March from Little Women, who says "Wouldn't it be fun if all the castles in the air which we make could come true and we could live in them?"

I'm not creating castles in the air quite yet, but I'm hoping my pen will take me lots of places in the future (whether castles or slums). I'm getting excited about the possibilities of what is to come. I'm trying to avoid this fear I find creeping in too often. So much comes with being vulnerable: Criticism, rejection, and more criticism. If you know me at all, you know I'm not a fan of either. Then again, who is?

I'll press forward through the fear (with your help and prayers) and see what happens with this dream of mine, which started out with the stuff 7-year-old girls write. It's moving into things that I hope will be blessed by God and able to bless others.

So my pen wonders this: Wouldn't it be fun if my words come alive and move people and I can live in that?

unfinished (?) and untitled.

2010-07-22T23:09:00.003-04:00

To begin,

you were never mine.
In vain were the skips that my heart made.
Thoughts and prayers sent up
Only to be returned with unwanted answers.
You were never mine.
I tried to find love in you,
But to no avail.
I wonder what I've done,
Why I gave some of my heart away.
You were never mine
And I was never yours.

But then,

bitter tastes slowly subside
like the winter winds morphing into spring breath.
Wounds healing
as the truth that 'love is a process' is believed,
stirs up the soul, and
ignites promise
like the coming of summer raindrops on a slow southern afternoon.
The love that is present around me and
the love that is not yet
wraps me up
like a worn blanket once the autumn cool has set in.

Peru: A Narcoleptic Nation

2010-07-18T15:48:00.005-04:00

Peruvians can sleep anywhere.

I've determined that they are not necessarily tired; in fact, they could be wide awake at one moment, and if the conditions are right, they're asleep the next.

This phenomenon has been an on-going observation during my time in Peru. It wasn't until I realized that my roommate Julia and I have semi-succumbed to it that I decided to write about it. Here's the scenario:

Julia and I were on a bus from Piura (inland Northern Peru) on our way to the coast in Zorritos a few weeks ago. We had no idea how to get to the beach once we got off the plane, so we asked around and found that the cheapest option was to take a bus called "El Dorado" to the water.

We found the bus station, bought our 15 sol ticket and braved the crappy four hour ride, all while drugged-up on sleeping pills.

We immediately fell asleep once we got on the bus. Little did we know that the four hour ride should have been a two hour ride, except that no one told us that (of course). Instead, in typical Peru-fashion, our bus decided to stop every fifteen minutes.

Good thing we were drugged.

During our comatose state, I realized while enduring constant bouncing just how bad the Panamericana Norte is. Had I been fully awake, I would have thrown up several times.

Towards the middle of the trip the bus almost fell over sideways on the desert road. I'm jerked awake and I look at Julia, who, in a very Peruvian stance, is bouncing along to the precarious turns of the bus. Her head is flopping up and down like a baby doll; when it rests, it rests forward, with the neck in a very uncomfortable strained-looking position.

I look around with sleep still in my eyes and see everyone in the same position. Some might have their heads tilted back with their mouths open (there is unfortunately some photographic evidence of me guilty of this), others are hunched forward with their heads against the seat in front of them. All of them are either snoring or drooling. It's a lovely and comical sight.

As I continue to observe the silent state around me, hearing only the sounds of the bus's junky engine, I remember other instances in which Peruvians prove that they have a knack for falling asleep whenever, wherever:

1. Combis/collectivos. If you board any type of public transportation, you're guaranteed to see ninety percent of the people asleep. If you can't find a seat, no matter--You can sleep standing up.

2. Church. Fifty percent of Peruvians will be asleep during the first five minutes of the sermon.

3. Benches in parks or plazas. When you walk around these places, don't be fooled by the people sitting up straight with their arms crossed wearing sunglasses, looking right at you. Their sunglasses hide the fact that they are dreaming about their next meal or playing in the World Cup 2014 Peru match.

4. Movies/Plays/Concerts. Any sort of entertainment, really. If they are sitting down for any length of time, I'd bet five dollars half will fall asleep relatively quickly.

I've had people fall on me while they're asleep and they don't wake up. I've seen babies stay asleep on moving buses while their mothers are changing their clothes awkwardly and kind of violently. I've had Marta come over, say "Oh, no tengo sueno" ("I'm not sleepy"), lay on my couch, and she's snoring two minutes later.

While you may think this is a country of Narcoleptics, Peruvians have this process down to a science. They know precisely when they need to wake up. There exists within them an innate ability to know when they've arrived at their bus stop or when the stewardess (whether it be bus or plane) is coming by with food/drink.

In conclusion, Peru is a sleepy country, whether it appears to be so or not (observations about work-ethic in this country will be saved for another post). Just give them two minutes of being stationary, and it's siesta-time.

great article

2010-07-14T15:46:00.002-04:00

My friend Joel and I were talking about our hope to write in a professional forum, and he mentioned he'd just had something published on a website. I checked out the website ("Wrecked") and also read his article, which is posted below. Both are wonderful. Carpe Diem.

http://missions.wrecked.org/?filename=god-is-not-practical-a-new-call-to-missions

change is coming.

2010-07-13T23:39:00.003-04:00

August 9.

I leave Peruvian soil on the 9th of August. I hit North American soil el 9 de agosto.

My mother says I have to start over in a way, and it'll be okay. Debbie, my best friend's mentor whom I've never met says "Change is good."

I want to believe them.

I feel like I'm floating in a bubble of emotion; if something in my bubble is shifted even a little bit, it will break and all these emotions that I can't begin to explain will spill out and my "safe" bubble won't be so safe anymore and I'll have to shuffle through these aforementioned unexplainable emotions.

I'll then be wandering around in a haze, even more so than I seem to be wandering hazily as I write this.

I can't begin to tell you how I feel. A friend mentioned that the goings-on of these last years are things that God alone understands. Have you ever felt that way? Something in your spirit that you know wants to get out, but you can't get it out very well?

I've found that I can write some things down in hopes of communicating effectively, but even then, I can't promise much. People have started to ask me "How do you feel about things?" Well, I don't know. I'm emotional. That's all I know to say. I feel that it's time. I feel excitement over seeing my family. I feel scared to move into the unknown.

"What is next?" This is 'The Question" to which I don't know the answer. All I know to do is cling to the truth that God will show me in time what I'm supposed to do. My "unknown" isn't God's unknown--it's His reality. His plan will be whispered to me (or maybe it will slap me in the face, I'm not sure) on time.

The unknown is something I remember being swallowed up in during my junior year of college when I was being prompted by the Spirit to move overseas to do ministry. But He was faithful to send me here and take care of me; now, I've somehow gotten semi-comfortable in Peruvian life and I'm leaving it behind, moving into a life that holds few immediate prospects from where I sit.

God doesn't sit where I sit, though. He sits above me and has something for me. I have to remember that. I have to remember that starting over is okay. I've done it before and been blessed; I've encountered change and been blessed.

For now, the blessing is going to come when I step off the plane, hug my dad, and cry into his shoulder as I can't bring myself to let go. And then I'll just go sit with my family. I'll hopefully receive words to say. God is going to use this time to speak to me and to my family about what is next. I don't know how I know this--I just do.

Listen. Dream. Laugh. Rest. Remember. Cry. Give and get hugs. Pray.

That's what I'm doing. And among these things, even greater things are coming.

------------------------------------

Here is a cool song lyric I heard the other day. I can't remember who sings it. Find Ryan Northup, my amigo who gave me the song and ask him. :)

What's left to lose? You've done enough...
And if you fail, you fail, but not to us.
Cause these last [two] years
I know they've been hard
But now it's time to get out of the desert and into the SUN.

April 3, 2010.

2010-07-12T00:16:00.003-04:00

This is something I came across while I was reading previous journal entries. I'm trying to remember good, and I stumbled upon this; while reading it again, I thought: "This must have come from the hand of God, not mine." It's proof to me that He still speaks to me, and I try to respond.

Day 1 of April travel adventures. I'll never forget today: Driving with Jason, Liz, and Javier down the Panamericana to Atico. Listening to "I Will Rise" by Chris Tomlin. I started to think about my time here.

1. I'm a beach girl. It apparently takes limited transportation in addition to living far from the ocean to realize this. I've been surrounded by mountains for the last two years, with few options to see my beloved water. But today I was astounded by the sea below me (incredible, breathtaking views), and I realized I'm meant to be a playera.

2. Peru truly is a beautiful country. I mean, astounding. The vistas are things that shouldn't be of this world (even as you contemplate a very easy death that is only feet away on the highway).

3. My time here has been so defined by being solitary. This has affected my ability to have a conversation. To make eye contact. To feel like my normal, social self again. My means of expression has been largely through writing, not verbal.

4. As we are driving, I have a lightbulb moment. Don't know why it's just now happening. I'm going to try to express it clearly:

God doesn't promise Christians that they follow Him and life is suddenly free of pain, sorrow, hurt, loneliness, anger, disappointment, depression. This life doesn't mean that we are free from the gamut of human emotion; we still feel, and we will feel low sometimes. We are still mortal.

But we have hope. Not only can we still live abundantly, but we have hope in this life because we walk with Christ. He is here, even in the midst of crap. He won't leave us.

What's more, our hope carries over from this world into the next. My hope is found in Christ, in spending eternity with Him. Heaven means no pain, no sorrow, nothing bad.

So while we may find ourselves in hard times, we live day to day in joy, remembering Who is on our side, and being reminded of, and clinging to, our hope in Jesus.

24.

2010-06-25T21:05:00.002-04:00

My 24th birthday is one for the books. It was just a chill day, and I was surrounded by a few people I love as well as random and really sweet Peruvians who I might never see again.

I got to hear my maid sing "Happy Birthday" in English, get hugs, be loved on, teach, hear more "Happy Birthday" from some really cute kids, get Peruvian "Feliz Cumpleanos, Miss," eat good food (including to-die-for ice cream cake thanks to Steve Christy), be encouraged, laugh a lot (til my stomach hurt), dance a ton and just forget about some troubles.

It was a good day. Thanks, God. Here's praying 24 will see me continue to grow and learn, glorify the Lord Jesus, adjust to new circumstances, heal, meet new friends, reconnect with old ones, love on people, and find out where I'm supposed to be for a time.

If you know me even a little, you know about my tiny obsession with Jon Foreman of Switchfoot. The man seems to express things I feel or have felt or will feel. (I'm pretty sure now that if you google Jon, my blog is going to appear, by the way.)

Anyway, he wrote this song (so I heard) when he turned 24. Enjoy.

Twenty four oceans
Twenty four skies
Twenty four failures
Twenty four tries
Twenty four finds me
In twenty-fourth place
Twenty four drop outs
At the end of the day
Life is not what I thought it was
Twenty four hours ago

Still I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
And I'm not who I thought I was twenty four hours ago
Still I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You

Twenty four reasons to admit that I'm wrong
With all my excuses still twenty four strong

See I'm not copping out not copping out not copping out
When You're raising the dead in me
Oh, oh I am the second man
Oh, oh I am the second man now
Oh, oh I am the second man now

And You're raising these twenty four voices
With twenty four hearts
With all of my symphonies
In twenty four parts
But I wanna to be one today
Centered and true

I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
You're raising the dead in me
Oh, oh I am the second man
Oh, oh I am the second man now
Oh, oh I am the second man now
And You're raising the dead in me

I want to see miracles, see the world change
Wrestled the angel, for more than a name
For more than a feeling
For more than a cause
I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
And You're raising the dead in me
Twenty four voices
With twenty four hearts
With all of my symphonies
In twenty four parts.
I'm not copping out. Not copping out....

Hincha ("Crazy") del Futbol.

2010-06-23T12:31:00.006-04:00

Caroline, Ryan, and Ginny celebrating the USA team while holding the only red, white and blue thing I have: A "Fourth of July" sign. :)

Living in South America is always an adventure.

Living in South America during the World Cup is akin to millions of thirteen-year-old girls at a Justin Bieber concert. Insanity.

And to think, Peru isn't even IN the World Cup; furthermore, I'm sure it would be even crazier if I lived in Brazil or Argentina, where the Latinos are even more hincha for their respective teams.

Thus, I give you the Top Ten Awesome/Ridiculous/Crazy World Cup Facts:

1. Life stops here during matches. You think I'm kidding. People don't go to work, if they can help it. Forget about being serious about school. The streets literally empty out during important games and you just assume that everyone is in front of a television.

2. You can hear "GOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLL" as you walk down the streets. You can hear it from inside your own house coming from your neighbor's house four doors down. You can hear people screaming with the television announcer. Blaring televisions proclaim what is happening; if I can't get to a television, I just listen for the murmur of the vuvuzelas from houses and know I can get a score update.
3. Location is a moot point. People gather anywhere and everywhere to listen to or watch a match: Around cars, standing on sidewalks, Menu restaurants or gas stations. (The latter two of which I am guilty of frequenting while strange Peruano men watch with me and with whom I feel momentarily bonded to just because of futbol.)

4. "La fiebre mundialista." ("World Cup Fever.") This extends to women everywhere who proudly watch the matches just for the players. There is no shame. (FYI: While I might also be semi-guilty of this, I actually do care about the game regardless of the fact that on Day 1 I posted "Futbol players are hot" as my Facebook status.)

5. "Waka Waka" is everywhere, which is testament to the fact that whatever Shakira touches (or looks at or belly dances near) is embraced with open arms.

6. Language is not a barrier. Who cares that "Waka Waka" is sung half in African, we sing the lyrics anyway. A friend of mine can't understand the lyrics to "Wave Your Flag," so he just makes up his own. He now sings "Just like a married wife, a married wife, a married wife...."

7. Money is being moved around like crazy. There is some serious plata being bet in the "pollas" (the bet or pool of money).

8. The guys at Marta's university have pulled televisions into the cafeteria. They camp out and stare at the TV and don't go to class; if they can bring themselves to move, they watch the matches on little TV's or on their phones. This includes professors.

9. I've learned that if I want to converse with certain people (mainly guys), it must be about futbol. It's all they know about, think about, and care about. A benefit of this is that I can now call offsides on my own. :)

10. Advertising is ridiculously funny and/or inspiring, even more so than in the States. I cry at commercials with little boys running around on dirt canchas displaying their hopes to become the next Kaka or Messi. (Notice I mention these players due to the fact that every South American team in each group is on top.) We're already talking about Brazil 2014, of which Peru has high hopes to attend. I'm already planning on camping out on a Brazilian beach near one of the stadiums. Vamos.
An example of the advertising we receive. Dominos paying homage to the World Cup with a full length, very involved, menu, a magnet, and a Chilean jersey photo with another oferta.

jars of clay.

2010-06-21T19:51:00.004-04:00

I promise one day I'll have some 'happier' words to say on this blog. (Said lightly, though very sincerely at the same time.)

But for now, it's this: Honesty. (Thanks LC for reminding me of the importance of that.)

The book of Romans says "We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation (ch 5:3-4).

Thus, I share this time with you (which I realized today is truly "light and momentary," though it seems to be more) and proclaim also that God is behind it (even though it just absolutely stinks). He is working, and it's all to His glory.

Here's a song I found that I'd forgotten about; it's by Jars of Clay, titled simply "The Valley Song."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CvHMjILrSJ0

You have led me to the sadness
I have carried this pain
On a back bruised, nearly broken
I'm crying out to you

I will sing of Your mercy
That leads me through valleys of sorrow
To rivers of joy

When death like a Gypsy
Comes to steal what I love
I will still look to the heavens
I will still seek your face

But I fear you aren't listening
Because there are no words
Just the stillness and the hunger
For a faith that assures

Alleluia, alleluia
Alleluia, alleluia

While we wait for rescue
With our eyes tightly shut
Face to the ground using our hands
To cover the fatal cut

And though the pain is an ocean
Tossing us around, around, around
You have calmed greater waters
Higher mountains have come down

sabbatical.

2010-06-19T21:26:00.003-04:00

I broke down in April.

Well, it began earlier than that. I can't pinpoint the exact day that it happened. It wasn't even one day; it was a series of days, of moments, that all eventually collided to make me realize something: I needed help.

Here's a semi-brief rundown of the events that transpired in 2010:

In January, I returned from Lima from Christmas/New Year's vacation. Marta lived with me for about a month, before we both went to Cusco in February (her for school, me for work-related purposes). I returned to life in Arequipa, lived it fairly mundanely in February and March (the highlights were a weekend beach trip and my sister's visit).

Notice I don't say much about classes/Bible studies/ministry. I was staring at the edge of a pit, about to fall in. My attitude was not where it needed to be, and concerning ministerial things, life was seemingly absolutely and utterly falling apart (code word for failing) around me.

The opportunities that I'd encountered to minister had diminished as far as teaching goes (a very long story, one I won't go into--just know it wasn't positive). I was tired of being canceled on by my friends, tired of doing things alone, and honestly, tired of making the effort for what I felt had just become a huge waste of time.

I felt so alone. More than I ever had in my life.

April came. I was able to translate on two back-to-back trips to villages in Peru. They were both incredible blessings. I have no words for those times. People surrounded me and loved on me. I learned so much and thought I was "getting on the right track." I felt busy during this time. Needed. I hadn't felt that in a long time.

After my return to Arequipa around April 18, I was left alone. I should preface this "alone" emphasis with certain information: There is a family here I relate to on my team, but I haven't worked with them much; another family who is here with the IMB works as church planters; finally, other missionaries are around in language school, who I see every now and then; and of course, I had a few Peruanos leftover who would check up on me.

Tears came every day, usually in unexpected moments. I felt like I'd been abandoned. I felt like I had no purpose. I wanted to quit, but I didn't. I honestly didn't know what I needed. I felt very far from God.

I called some people with the IMB to get things moving in the direction of "resolution."

I had this grand idea to go to Lima. It was the only thing I knew to do: There was work going on there, I could support the ESL people, I would be around my team. I needed to talk to someone who understood where I come from and who understood what I was going through.

God gave me an idea: "Stay with Rebekah and Michael Constante." I barely knew these people at the time. For some reason, I just knew I needed to be with them. I ended up staying at their home in total for about a month. I became part of their family, for which I am forever thankful.

Rebekah became a confidant, a listener, and an advisor. Her husband Michael became someone with whom to laugh with until it hurt. Jenny and John McClamb laughed and cried and counseled me; they felt for me. Both family's children were little "happy pills" that ran around on two legs--I could instantly feel better just by hearing "Tia Sarah" or getting a hug. Ginny, Jess, and Julia listened and cried with me.

I spent my time in Lima trying to heal. I spent time with the Lord, talked to people, got to hang out with Peruvians and Americans, felt like I was contributing in some way.

I left Lima in tears on May 15. I remember two times thinking very negative thoughts that I had never really had in my life concerning my own life. I pleaded with God to take me. I set foot on Arequipa soil crying. I cried in the taxi home, and I cried as Ginny opened the gate to let me into my house.

I had no idea why I was crying. I couldn't express it to her. I hugged her and held onto her, and she said this:

"It's because this place holds so much pain for you."

This statement is so true, and it's been the catalyst for me to examine a lot of things in my life. I've taken the last few weeks to reflect on myself, my time here, my character, my walk with God, my calling. I've journaled, I've talked, I've kind-of prayed. I've realized how messed up I am. There is just a lot of junk in my life that I need to confess, turn away from, and remove. I feel like a failure, which is invalid because God doesn't see me as that; I've searched for so many things to "do" and people to "please" in hopes that I would gain favor with God. There is just so much I'm realizing about myself and it hurts my heart because I see how far removed grace has become in my life.

Coming back to Arequipa twice after "Lima time" made me realize that this sabbatical, this time of "healing" is going to take a lot longer than expected. Like the events that transpired to get me to the point of rock bottom, the process of healing is going to take time as well.

Pruning hurts so much. Being in the valley for almost two years makes your body ache. Regardless of short happy times, of learning things, of seeing small delights as you walk through your trial, whatever it may be, that trial takes it's toll.

I'm willing to continue moving through this time of "sorrowful valleys." I'm also trying to move in the direction God would have me to go, which is to Himself. I think He's abandoned me when the truth is, I've abandoned Him. How ridiculously sad.

My friend Caroline wrote my heart on her blog. I read it and the floodgates opened up (I cry a lot these days--call it my whacked-out emotions, call it depression, call it being cleaned-out). Here's something profound that I can relate to:

"for the past six months, i've been noticing a change in heart: i don't "feel" much anymore. it has taken me quite a while to figure out what that means, what might have caused the change, and more-so, am i okay with it. and the truth is, i'm not. i'm tired of experiencing things on my own...i'm so sick of building friendships with people that are not emotionally responsive. i want to be able to come home to someone with whom i can feel safe to share what is really on my heart. i want to be able to trust people again. i want to feel like it's okay to pick up the phone and call friends...instead i stop myself every time, thinking that too much time and space have passed, or that i need them more than they need me.

i know that all things come from the Father's hand, but i'm having trouble coping with the fact that He removed me from community for such a long time. yes, i have learned many lessons through relying on Him more, but i never thought i would be deadening my emotional receptivity. especially these past few months, it has been harder to fight away the reminders that i have become dead inside.

the redeeming part about all of this is the reminder the Lord gave me today, after reading in John 15. i have been wondering if the deadening in my heart is something that is irreversible, like many of the people i know who just go into emotional hiding and never come out of it. but today i realized that, though i have endured drought, i became negligent in "abiding" in Him. so my soul has begun to wither, and with it my ability to relate to and invest in others. the task now becomes "remaining" in God's love, and trusting that He can restore green, abundant life through my branches. yes, i believe my heart is still green, stemming from the True Vine.

"The redeeming part about all of this." I like that part. We are God's redeemed. I am His daughter. I have to remind myself of those statements.

I will get better. Caroline and I talked, and we both agreed: God will heal us in time. I'm really trying to work through things regarding my person, my emotional state, and my spiritual state. I've realized that I need to see a counselor when I return to the States in August. It took me awhile to not be ashamed of that fact.

I need your help. My story is longer, and I wish I could tell you all of it. But for now, I ask for your prayers. I ask that God would break me and I would be on my face in search of Him, the ultimate Counselor.

Thanks for keeping up with me. I do hope that as you walk through life, I can somehow pray for you, help you in anything, or just give you a hug when you need it. I appreciate you all and love you very much.

Trying to learn to love more, get joy back, and become alive again....

Sarah

to the wanderer.

2010-06-10T20:32:00.002-04:00

Ernesto asked me why I don't want to live in the United States for the majority of my life (a sentiment that recently seems to come and go). I posed this question to Ginny, who made an interesting point, and I decided to journal about it. Here it is...

A broad assumption is that Americans travel as a means to an end: We look for self-fulfillment, we look to get something out of anything and anyone and we suck the life out of everything.

I would argue that travel is much more. Travel is diving into a culture. Exploring. Finding meaning. Learning. Contributing.

Europeans (and just about the rest of the world) know how to travel. They look at the world differently throughout the journey AND at the end of the journey. They have stories to tell because they not only soak up the experience, but they involve themselves in the experience itself. They soak in and pour out. They bring what they've seen back to their homeland: People's stories, heartache and joy they've shared in, customs, food, dance, life.

I believe liberation is found in this way of travel.

Hear this: I'm liberated in Christ. I don't need any more liberty. What I need is for people to see their need for liberation. If my life as a traveler, a wanderer, a nomad, could show this--if God could use me to point to His Son as the only Liberator--it would be to His glory.

My prayer is that I get to see as much of this world as possible. To enjoy God and His creation while living adventurously, whether that means exploring secret corners of South America, Europe, and Asia, or getting to know my own homeland.

William Faulkner said, "If a story is in you, it has to come out."

Wherever I go, I hope to collect stories, soak up life and give it back. Write down what I see and hear, hug people because they need love (as do I), and speak Truth.

fighting to lay it down.

2010-06-01T13:29:00.001-04:00

This is an email I received from our mission board today, and I happened to actually read the whole thing. This is exactly how I feel. More to come.
---------------------------------------------------------------

Do you have a song in your heart today? You know what I’m talking about—the subliminal lyrics of a praise song you may have listened to a few days ago or a tune you find yourself humming that makes a routine task, driving to an appointment or even cleaning the house, a worship experience. It comes when you have just had a visionary planning meeting with your team, when you saw someone come to faith you had been cultivating for a long time, or when your children blurt out a comment that reveals maturing spiritual insight.

Unfortunately, there are days when the song is not there; in fact, we can lose it for extended periods of time when we are discouraged, fighting depression and counting the days, hoping to survive until stateside. I can remember losing the song in times of cultural shock and disillusionment. I thought that was unique to the second year on the field when the honeymoon was over, but found that it continued to come in cycles throughout our 23 years overseas.

You lose the song when family relations are strained, and harsh, unkind words are spoken out of anger and impatience. A misunderstanding with a colleague or seeing a disciple we have been nurturing revert to his old manner of life can rob us of the joy that is reflected in that spontaneous song reverberating in our mind.

In Ps 137 the Children of Isr*el had been carried into captivity in Babylon. There their tormentors demanded they sing the songs of Z*on, apparently for the entertainment of their captors. But they replied in verse 4, “How can we sing the L*rd’s song in a foreign land?” That’s how you may be feeling simply due to the heat and congested crowds. Or maybe you have lost the song due to struggling with a new structure and processes imposed by leaders that seem insensitive to the impact of changes being made.

How do you recover the song? How do you get back the joy, a sense of well-being, confidence that G*d is on His throne, and it’s all going to come out all right? There is an interesting verse in 2 Chron 29:27 that may offer an analogy that may be helpful. This is the occasion of restoring the temple worship. King Hezekiah gave the order to place the burnt offering on the altar. “And when the sacrifice began, the song to the L*rd also began.”

The call to an intimate relationship with the Father has always entailed sacrifice. It is a call to sacrifice our own will to be obedient to Him. J*sus makes it clear that no one is truly following Him until they take up their cross and die. Paul pleaded with us to present our bodies a living sacrifice—always putting our desires, our will, our comforts on the altar. It comes back to those prayers of relinquishment mentioned in an earlier memo.

We lose the song and the enemy robs us of joy that comes from confident faith in the Father when there is something we desire we don’t have—when our plans aren’t working out, the kids aren’t behaving or the team doesn’t respect our opinion. Maybe we aren’t receiving the recognition and affirmation we need, we are being inconvenienced or imposed on, or we are just working ourselves to the bone without seeing evident results.

In David’s confession of sin he recognized that G*d did not desire offerings and religious ritual, even hard work, as much as sacrifice. “The sacrifices of G*d are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O G*d, Thou wilt not despise.” That’s what brings us back to Him and restores the song.

If you are at the end of your rope, discouraged and disillusioned, you may be exactly where you need to be to find His grace and faithfulness. Bring that broken spirit and a contrite heart and lay it on the altar. Have you allowed self-centered concerns and personal desires to so dominate your attention that you have lost a broken heart for the lost that brought you to where you are in the first place?

We rationalize ourselves into thinking things would be fine and I would be happy if—only if—everyone would get along, we could handle finances and get our services provided more efficiently, if it weren’t so hot, if the people weren’t so obstinate, if we had a safer environment, more reliable electricity, etc. etc. Bemoaning the problems doesn’t solve them. Whatever is robbing you of the song, lay it on the altar. “When the sacrifice began, the song of the L*rd also began.”

relevant.

2010-05-22T00:27:00.002-04:00

this is an article i found on relevant magazine online. it addresses a lot of things i'm feeling right now. God used it to speak to me, for which i'm very thankful. check it out.

http://www.relevantmagazine.com/god/deeper-walk/blog/21596-remember-to-stop-forgetting

Sobras.

2010-05-20T23:01:00.002-04:00

"Sobras" is Spanish for leftovers. Leftovers in Peru is a funny concept to me, and I'm still trying to grasp it. Here's a feeble attempt to explain to you what I've learned/observed so far.

I'll start with how leftovers became a popular topic in my house. When Marta lived with me in January, I was a cooking maniac (I think because I had someone to cook for). I wanted to make spaghetti, and I thought I would just use some meat that had been frozen for...some time. I can't even tell you how long. It was a long time.

"Por que no botes eso?"

Marta repeatedly told me to throw it out, that it had gone bad. But in my stubbornness, I kept it in the freezer, thinking I would use it "soon."

Well, Spaghetti Day finally rolls around and I take out the ancient meat and sure 'nuff, it was disgusting. I even thought for a moment that I could salvage it, but that would have been unkind to my Peruanita's estomago.

Soon after this incident (in which Marta reminded me over and over that she was right about the meat), I continued on my cooking tirade and made a ton of every dish I created. I mean, ridiculous amounts of food. I don't know why I have this tendency to cook more than is needed, but I do. I should work on that, especially as I continue to cook for one (pause with me as I lament this sad fact).

I made beef stew, chicken and potatoes, and all sorts of other things. We even invited other people to come over and eat. Alas, leftovers became my middle name. Marta ate them with me out of kindness, or perhaps pity...

...Until one day I pulled something out of the fridge that had been there about five days. Here's my theory: If it still smells good and looks good, then it probably tastes good and is not going to kill you.

Marta, however, looked at me in shock, asked me how long whatever-it-was had been sitting there, and refused to eat it after I revealed the horrific number.

She proceeded to tell me about Peruvian dislike of leftovers. As her papi says: "Voy a comer para que no se malogre."

Translation: "I'm going to eat everything because I'm a good poor man and don't want any of it to go to waste."

That's legitimate. I will say that in my North American Leftover Hell, I do throw away a lot of food.

Here's something to take into account though: Peruvians won't eat "old" food (a day or two) that has been stored properly in the refrigerator, but they'll leave all of it sitting out for a day on the stove/counter. Hmm.....

My Peruanos probably think I'm crazy. I feed them all the food I've prepared, but some of it is old. Here, if you give someone your leftovers of anything (basically anything you don't want anymore that you've half-used), that can be an insult.

I suppose then the multiple times I've asked some guy friends to come "clean out the fridge," they've been semi-offended as they stuff their faces with my perfectly fine leftovers.

At least this cultural difference brings a lot of laughs: Now when I offer Marta and other friends some food, they usually laugh and look at me like "how long has the gringa kept this food around?"

I tell them a lower number of days than is true, throw the food on a microwave-safe plate, type in a minute or two, and press "ON."

my north and my south.

2010-05-13T00:10:00.003-04:00

I'm headed home
Yeah, but I'm not so sure
That home is a place
That will ever be the same...

-Jon Foreman, "Southbound Train"

First, let me say that J.F. is a lyrical and poetical genius. I was listening to this song tonight, and I don't have much to say on it. I'll let it speak for itself.

I'm going back to Arequipa in a few days after a small and refreshing sabbatical in Lima. I then spend a couple months in the South before I head north: America.

Here we go. The countdown begins. There isn't a countdown to "what's next" still. Rather, the countdown begins on having to leave a new home for an old one.

I'm betting on not settling down quite yet. So for now, and during the upcoming transition time, my home is North and South.

Garden.

2010-05-06T15:36:00.003-04:00

There's this song I like right now called "Garden" by Matt Maher. The main theme is that God is "making our heart a garden" like the Garden of Eden before the fall, where Adam and Eve walked and talked with God.

I like this idea of believer's hearts being a garden in which we commune with the Lord; however, I started to think a little more and found other imagery in the song. This idea of weeding and pruning and stirring up dirt and removing dead things ought to be profound for Christians. It is profound for me, at least. The gardener (God) fixes me up by taking the bad stuff out and planting things that are better--stuff like new flowers, healthy bulbs. They grow up out of this dirt that was sifted around--fallow ground moved about to make it a place where good things can grow beautiful.

I think that is what I need to stop and ponder in this time: My heart as a garden. There might be some weeds and other junk that need to come out. I'm being pruned right now (see John 15).

But the good news is that I have a good Gardener who has my best interest in mind. He might stir up the soil and jerk up some bad weeds, but He'll replace those things with new, good things. He knows what needs to be in there, and He does it according to His good timing in each season.

close your eyes and see.

2010-04-26T12:18:00.002-04:00

There's a lot of questions floating around in my head. Do I really trust God? I say I do, but do I really allow Him to take control of my life? Do I believe God and and His promises? I want to be needed; how do I quench that desire in a selfless manner? Why don't I meet with the Lord every day? He's my first love. What is in my heart that in hindering me walking in victory with Christ, as He intends? How can I start to get the junk out of my life that is preventing an abundant life, lived to the glory of God?

As you can see, I'm being challenged. God is rocking my boat, big time.

On a positive note, in recent weeks, I've been given a few verses from Colossians that have helped the struggle surrounding my return to the US in about three months (still hard to say, but starting to roll off the tongue a little easier).

"And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him (ch. 3).

I'm preparing to work for the Lord wherever He takes me. It might be in a Lawrenceville, GA Starbucks. I will serve people their coffee in the name of Christ. Then, I'll bike home because I can't afford gas. ;)

"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving (ch. 3).

I've recently been struggling with some work-related stuff (PRAY over that, por favor). Anyway, I want to finish this time in Peru working with all of my heart, for God--not for any man. I think that God is using this experience to prepare me for future work/ministry situations.

"So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness (ch 2).

Finally, may the remembrance of my salvation and what Christ did for me on the Cross consume my mind and heart and motivate me to meet with Him every day. I am so weak, but He is strong. May He build me up in Him and strengthen the faith He placed in my heart so long ago. Would that I overflow with thankfulness.

In fact, I'm going to go ahead and claim it: I thank You in advance, Lord, for the changes that You're working in me as I get soaked in hard storms and parched in deserted valleys. They're for a reason. I see Your goodness and Your faithfulness in them. Thanks for that, God. Move in me for Your name.

I give you thanks for preparing me for changes that are coming. Would you replace my fear with a joy in moving forward and seeing what is next. Give me a motivation to be active in this time and seek out what You would have me do. In the name of Jesus, I thank You.

A 'post dato,' Lord...As I prep for America, perhaps the most important prayer I could send to the heavens: Help my dad and his clingy tendencies. He's already threatening to chain me to a post in the backyard. Forever.

time is relative.

2010-04-03T00:52:00.002-04:00

Living in a Latin American country has its perks, its negatives, and its learning curves. I offer up to the blog world a couple ideas and some funny experiences I've had while living in Peru concerning TIME.

Time. Hours. Minutes. Seconds. Days. Weeks. Months. Our time is precious and valuable, and growing up in the United States, I was taught that being on time is important. Since coming to Peru, my being-on-time obsession has lessened, and the idea of time has become somewhat of an anomaly. I no longer wear a watch. I've become really Peruvian in saying I'll be somewhere at 3:30, but I don't show up until 4 (still only to wait 30 more minutes on the Peruvian). Church starts at 11 am, which means it's okay to stroll in around 11:19 or later--it may have started by then, but probably not. Class starts at 7 pm, but people still walk in at 8, 15 minutes before it's over.

There are certain words in Spanish to indicate when something is happening. Some examples are "ahora," "un rato," "un toque," "un minuto," etc. We have some derivatives that come from these words as well. Let me explain.

I was recently in Lima and ran into my friend Ernesto. We chat and say we're going to catch up later, after he's done with work at 8 pm. I send him a text message about an hour later (approximately 3 pm) that says "Ernesto, call me later so that we can figure out what we are going to do." The text I receive in response reads in Spanish something along the lines of "Claro, podemos hacer algo AHORA" (gringa translation: "Sure, we can do something NOW."). I, the silly gringa, call Ernesto (aka Ernie ;) and comment that I thought he was still working.

"Si, estoy trabajando." (Yeah, I'm working.)

"Ah ya....entonces hablamos mas tarde." (Ok, then, we'll talk later.)

"Ok, ciao."

Hmm....

Later that evening we get together and I ask about this "ahora" business. How is "ahora" ("now") also later? Big question, one that opens a door for a HUGE discussion on vocabulary, context, and meaning. Here are my findings:

Ahora: "Now," as in a time period over the next 12-24 hours. Or in Daniel's case, 20 days when referring to his birthday. :)
Ahorita: Also "now" (perhaps even "right now"), as in the time period over the next 2-12 hours. (Marta ALWAYS says she is leaving "ahorita." After about seven times hearing this and counting the hours that define her "ahorita " [usually 1-2], I finally started to catch on that her "ahorita" is very different from my "ahorita.")
Ahorititita: Yet again, "now." Except given the amount of "tita's" tacked on the end, this could mean any number of definitions of now. Right now in a second, in a minute, in five minutes, in 30 minutes. Who knows.

Within this word group used to define a period of time, you have the same type of guidelines with the following (once again, context and person saying these words make the meaning):

Rato, ratito: Any given time; a little time.
Toque, toquecito: Even less than "rato" or "ratito." Literally, a little touch, a little time.
Un minuto, minutito: I can't even tell you how many times "Espera un minuto" (wait a minute) has turned into an hour.

Finally, we have another interesting thing happening in Latin America. I have yet to really figure out when "good day," "good afternoon," and "good evening" begin and end. In my very North American mind, morning ends at lunchtime, if not before. The afternoon begins around lunchtime and continues until 6 pm or so, and the evening commences at this time (we'll say sundown-ish) until you're partying late into the night.

Not so in Peru. Let's address this idea of "Buenos dias," Buenas tardes," and "Buenas noches." Here's a typical week with my watcheman (pronounced "watch.e.man," which the long "e" sound in the middle :) as I'm walking in and out of the neighborhood:

Sunday, 11 am. "Buenos dias, senorita." Fine.
Monday, 11 am. "Buenos dias, senorita." Monday, 3 pm. "Buenas tardes, senorita." Fine.
Tuesday, 3 pm. "Buenos dias, senorita." Huh?
Wednesday, 5 pm. "Buenas tardes, senorita." Same day, 8 pm. "Buenas noches, senorita." Okay.
Thursday, 5 pm. "Buenas noches, senorita." Oh my gosh...

I could go on, but you see what I'm getting at. There is no definition, and I'm just plum confused. Even after a year-and-a-half. I mean, sure, I hold to what I'm thinking is the "proper" separation of time. And I obviously respond in whatever manner they want me to out of cultural respect (I may be confused, but I have learned to not try and change the norm here based solely on my confusion). The thing is, we just need to get some continuity going on here in my opinion. I've now just gotten into the habit of saying "Buenas." Punto. No mas. I don't know what time it is, nor do they, so we'll just go with the generic greeting. Plus, it makes more sense to just go with the flow instead of laughing at the woman at the bank who has now just said "Buenos dias" to me at 4 pm. Maybe she's just tired after a hard day's work.

Pascua.

2010-04-01T13:35:00.003-04:00

Today is Day 1 of the feriado (holiday) here. Semana Santa. Holy Thursday. Anticipation of Christ's hands and feet being beaten into a cross by hands that didn't understand who He was. A tomb being opened for Him; after suffering an excruciating death, He is lain on the ground, wrapped in cloth, without breath. We can't forget that.

But Resurrection Sunday is coming, a day in which Christians celebrate a risen Jesus Christ. It really ought to be a celebration, a party; Jesus is alive! Death came, but life overcomes, and Jesus is alive.

"...that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that He was buried, that He was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, and that He appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve.
-1 Corinthians 15:3-5

Last year I walked around Arequipa during this time and pondered the traditions that define this holiday. I was astounded at the idols, the images, the money being collected, the bells and fireworks going on, the processions, the people wearing crucifixes on their necks for three days only. It reminded me of the 18 years I was in bondage.

I forgot how it can be here, this "Holy" week. For some people, it's a time to cry and to mourn; for others, a time to party and to let themselves go with alcohol.

Today I wonder how I've contributed to the Kingdom in the last year. I'm not saying this in a manner of "works." I'm speaking from the perspective of a Follower of Christ who is called to speak the Good News: The Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Perhaps in a time that could be considered a crisis of faith, I've faltered in this. That's no excuse. May my life be a living sacrifice, regardless of how I might "feel." May my life speak and demonstrate what I believe. Am I a testament to the purpose of Christ's death and resurrection?...Am I living a life worthy of Jesus, being sanctified and becoming more like my Savior every day?

"By the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain.
-1 Corinthians 15:10a

These are questions to ask myself, to meditate on as I cry out to God to cleanse my heart.

I do hope Holy Week restores your faith, wherever you are. I'm praying it does mine. Let's remember that there is no mediator other than Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, the great I AM. Born of a virgin girl, not a saint; made man while still God; completely perfect, offering us eternal life...and we can't earn it. We can't pray enough, we can't be good enough, we can't live or die enough.

It's just faith in Jesus.

"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For by [FAITH] the people of old received their commendation. By faith we understand that the universe was created by the Word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible.
-Hebrews 11:1-3

song lyrics.

2010-03-25T15:44:00.002-04:00

this is a song by an awesome singer i recently came across named lindsey kane. it's helped me a lot recently--check it out, it's really wonderful. other songs i've been impacted by in my time here are "arise and by comforted" by watermark and "you are not alone" by kate hurley.

just when i thought this valley couldn't get any deeper,
just when i thought i was stepping out of it.
just when i thought the mountain was in my view,
that's when i saw You.
You didn't take me out of it, but You joined me in it.
You didn't lift me out of it, but You lifted me up in it.
You didn't pull me out of it, but You pulled me toward You in it,
and i know that i'll be okay.
just when i thought this mountain couldn't get any steeper,
just when i thought i was falling off of it.
just when i thought that valley was in my view again,
that's when i saw You.
(chorus)

Jesus, where would i be without Your sovereignty...
Jesus, where would i be without Your sovereignty...
thank You for this valley...
in it i will praise Thee.

Nina comes to Peru!

2010-03-20T22:10:00.009-04:00

My sister Cristina was able to come visit me a couple weeks ago, and it was a great time with a cool little sis (who is not so little anymore...[tear]). We caroused in Lima, didn't sleep for 24+ hours in order to get ourselves to Puno (via the god-forsaken town of Juliaca, also known as hell), and stayed busy in Arequipa. Overall, she was here for six days (tooooo short).

She is a blessing.

Also, thanks to my parents for letting her come and forking over the cash for the plane ticket. :)

**Below: Ginny, Nina and me on our sea lion adventure in Callao; Nina trying to get herself through a hole in Parque del Amor in Lima; Nina and me in Puno on Lake Titicaca. The video is of some ladies singing to tourists. They knew the song in a million languages, including Japanese. The sound in the background is a store in a boat that sells things....you can hear Marta say "Mira la tienda."

psalms.

2010-03-15T18:24:00.002-04:00

^{just because...some good words i read the other day.

Psalm 55...

22} Cast your cares on the LORD
and he will sustain you;
he will never let the righteous fall.

²³ But you, O God, will bring down the wicked
into the pit of corruption;
bloodthirsty and deceitful men
will not live out half their days.
But as for me, I trust in you.

^{Psalm 56...}

³ When I am afraid,
I will trust in you.

⁴ In God, whose word I praise,
in God I trust; I will not be afraid.
What can mortal man do to me?......

¹³ For you have delivered me from death
and my feet from stumbling,
that I may walk before God
in the light of life.

^{Psalm 57...}

² I cry out to God Most High,
to God, who fulfills his purpose for me.

¹⁰ For great is your love, reaching to the heavens;
your faithfulness reaches to the skies.

¹¹ Be exalted, O God, above the heavens;
let your glory be over all the earth.

forward thinking.

2010-03-13T14:12:00.005-05:00

It started with a Southern Living magazine.

I am sitting in a cafe in Arequipa, Peru, which has come to mean home to me. Behind me are Argentines speaking beautiful Spanish. While I listen to this tongue that I love so much, I also long for the South. However, I can't shake the other longing within me: Some seemingly impossible life in South America, Latin America, or Spain.

Flipping through the pages of this coveted gift that my mom sent me in an even-more-coveted box filled with goodies, I am reading the prose that describes my other home, browsing through images of perfect houses in Charleston and New Orleans, and imagining myself attempting these do-it-yourself projects that I know I'll never actually do. Beautiful photographs of my beloved South jump off the page at me: The mountains of Georgia and the coastal towns of the Carolinas remind me of long-ago memories.

And I just start to cry.

I don't think I'm crying because I miss America, but rather because I simply love the Southern states, my old stomping ground. And it hit me: I will be back there in about five months. One would think I'd be happy. Sure, there is excitement in the prospect of return, of seeing my family, hugging my puppies, drinking sweet tea, driving with the windows rolled down on still-sweetly warm August evenings.

But I know myself. I get restless.

I know that when I'm in Georgia, or wherever I end up, I'll miss my Peruanos, my ex-pat friends, drinking mate, going to the market on an almost-daily basis, walking everywhere, and having a ton of ridiculous stories that only come from living in a culture that is not your own.

I can't fathom being in Georgia for too long. I'm deathly afraid of going back to little prospect of getting a job, of living with my parents for who-knows-how-long, of the all-around awful economic situation that America has found herself. Perhaps even scarier is the thought of me staying and getting sucked into suburban vanity. As I read the magazine, I think to myself, "I don't want perfection, I don't want this Southern Living life."

That brings me to this: I don't think I'm meant to live in the United States forever. Or perhaps I should conjecture that I could live in a country not my own. This is a huge realization, one that I am unsure will come to fruition.

God granted my prayer, my dream, to come to a Spanish-speaking country and teach English. This was planted in my heart long before I met Him. He made it better and allowed that dream to evolve into ministry.

As I prepare to leave, to journey into the next step, what would God have me do next? What dreams and prayers set forth will he grant--to His glory?

My mother says that to quench my travel desires, I should be a flight attendant. I pray fervently (and sometimes shed a couple nervous tears) during every little shake on a plane. "Maybe a student tour guide, then?," she suggests. I remember my class trip to Spain when I was 16. God bless my tour guide. I still remember her: Kate, from England. If I were Kate, I would have hurt my obnoxious 16-year-old self. Another no-go.

My desires seem to be all over the place right now, and I confess it's hard to trust the Lord. I don't really know what I want, to be honest. Deep down I do long for stability, for a career, for a family. Kentucky writer Wendell Berry's words echo in my head, with themes of "staying" suspended in my conscious.

What do you do when you've fallen in love with two places, two peoples, and two cultures that are polar opposites? When the thought of leaving your birthplace for a long time floats through your mind, anchors in your heart, and you begin to ache? My stomach twists in knots over this idea of creating a home so far away from the South. From my family, my food, my traditions. My language and my vernacular. My weather, my sports, and my memories. And yet, I'm still enamored with this prospect.

Where is my next stop? Am I meant to practice the art of staying? That would be hard for me, I think. And yet, it would be another lesson to learn.

preparation.

2010-03-11T20:59:00.004-05:00

I never thought I'd share this with the internet world. The thing is, I'm currently writing like a crazy woman, and I think this poem will not only help me craft the words that will be coming to you shortly, but it will also give you a glimpse into the emotion I'm feeling.

I wrote this for a class I took my senior year of college (spring 2008, now about two years ago). I loved that class (shout out to my prof, Greg McClure), and writing an "I Am" poem was one of my favorite assignments.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am Sarah Junco.
I am from my mother and my father,
from the rolling hills of the South and the dense jungles del caribe.
I am the red clay under my fingernails.
I am honeysuckle summer sweetness dissolving on my tongue.
I am fireflies squished in my hand,
accidentally, of course.
I am in the dusk, and it in me,
riding bikes up and down streets for hours.
I am splashing in puddles after the rain.
I am five-cent lemonade on the corner.
I am summer water and fall mountain mist,
the sound and sight ever with me.
I am sweet tea y cafe con leche, collards and arroz con pollo.
I am chocolate anything.
I am "Iced Venti Americano, Unsweetened, please."
I am mama's spaghetti, the best thing she makes.
I am my father's daughter, cereal as midnight snacks.
Yo soy una mujer, una hija, una hermana, una nieta,
who has orgullo to be una Americana, pero tambien,
Yo soy una mezcla.
I am a wanna-be 'hippie,' and too-easily influenced by fads.
I am, and always will be, friend to dogs, suspicious of cats.
I am a Bulldog, bleeding red and black forever.
I am blessed with big dreams: Some faded, not failed, some yet to pass.
I am filled with the music of generations, always eclectic.
I am dew drops, skin-settling on early Athens' mornings.
I am dust collecting on the bookshelves, surrounded by friends.
I am ink in my veins.
I am from the I AM.
I am a Follower of Jesus Christ.
"I am making all things new," He says.
I am newly born, newly made, a new creation:
I am free.
I am for a reason, and
I am just beginning.

trust.

2010-02-19T00:40:00.004-05:00

take my heart, i lay it down, at the feet of you who's crowned
take my life, i'm letting go, i lift it up to you who's throne
i will worship ...

the other day i woke up before 6 am and was in pain. over what, i couldn't begin to tell you. it was more spirit pain, i think (though i was nervous about traveling later that day). i laid in bed for over two hours, awake, trying to rest, trying to gain clarity on whatever i was feeling, while just really rumpling the sheets into a twisted mess.

this unnameable feeling might stem from confusion/anxiety. just a guess. i sense i'm entering a season of change. i've said i'd follow Christ wherever, for however long. He brought me to Peru for a bit, and now we might be relocating together. i'm not sure.

i truly have no idea about what is coming, and that is scary.

my best friend reminded me today to remember to be where i'm at in addition to being freaked out of my mind over the big, upcoming-and-too-soon, uncertain questions.

the good surprise on the morning i woke up insanely early....i laid in bed for about 2.5 minutes, just dwelling on negatives. then came this Word, clear as day: "trust in the Lord your God with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make straight your paths."

i repeated this over and over for about two hours. i held onto it throughout that day, into my travel time. i still cling to it.

i have no idea what this verse holds in this particular context. i am thankful God gave it to me for such a time as this. it is like cleansing rain. and it was raining that morning.

maybe it'll seep deep into my heart again...

Disclaimer: Take all of the following with a grain of salt.

2010-02-15T23:38:00.002-05:00

A couple weeks ago I told you the story of the newspapers: Peruvians would take the free newspapers and do all kinds of things with them (see earlier post if you're thoroughly confused). As I started to ponder this cultural difference, I began to observe even more things that interested me. In the name of Valentine's Day, I continue to offer up some ideas/observations concerning Peruvian culture and North American culture.

First, as the title suggests, take this entry with a grain of salt; I write hopefully to entertain (in this entry at least--you'll know when I'm being serious in other posts :).

If anyone knows me even an ounce, you know that I sometimes have a thing for...men with Latin roots. I blame this on my dad. Why, you ask? Well, I suppose because I use the excuse that sometimes girls recognize and value traits in certain young men that remind them of their own father's qualities.

Draw your own conclusions, but you can imagine the chatter between Marta and myself. If we're feeling giggly/girly, we usually start quizzing one another on the attractiveness of some dude. Marta's theory is that she grew up looking at these guys, and because I didn't, I find them more attractive. Who knows. The point is, we have very different "gustos" (taste), and we laugh a lot over this hot topic.

Telenovelas. I haven't got much to say on this topic, other than that it is a culture in itself. I know I've been here awhile when I actually ask Marta to watch a telenovela with me. Shocking, I know (My current favorite is "Dos Caras," a Brazilian novela dubbed in Spanish). My favorite thing about watching these soap operas with Peruvians is that they talk back to the television as if their life depended on the dramatic goings-on of Thalia in "Maria de la no-se-que."

Did you know that passing out condoms in Lima, Peru for Valentine's Day can be turned into a mega-event in which people dance around in costumes of the already-mentioned-objects that I don't want to write again? Oh yes, it's true. I was watching the news the other evening and was floored to see this spectacle in a neighborhood of Lima called Barranco. It was apparently a party, and people receiving aforementioned things seemed quite pleased. I unfortunately have pictures of the television, and I also got a good laugh. Alright, enough on that incident.

Moving on, a small factoid: Some peruvian women start peeling on their faces as a result of pregnancy. The reason I know this: Marta and I went to the beach, and she came back "negra" (black) from all the sun. Her friends at University began to tease her about being pregnant. I asked her why. She replied, as if this was the most normal thing in the world, "Because I'm peeling on my cheeks." Huh??? It took a lot of prompting and pondering on my part, but I finally got an explanation, and it's nothing more than some Latina women peel underneath their eyes/in the cheek region while with child. Hmmm....I have still yet to really understand why. I have some ideas floating around, but no real scientific answer. I'll keep you posted with my findings.

I love Peru. Much love and many laughs. :)

being refined.

2010-02-14T10:42:00.004-05:00

On this Valentine's Day I am sitting in Cusco, Peru under the cloud-sprinkled sky--the kind that you know is thinking about rain, but the sun won't refuse to go away (I even learned a new word: Garua, which means "to sprinkle"). Hillsong is playing in Spanish in the background, Marta and Ellen are making a wonderful-smelling lunch, and people are partying on the streets to celebrate Carvanal (mainly with various forms of water weapons, which we managed to avoid earlier today, though I got soaked twice yesterday).

I just wanted to wish everyone a happy day, filled with blessings. How wonderful that if you are a believer is Jesus you can claim to know what true love really is. I've been reading 1 John, and God is molding and refining me through this go-round of reading such a beautiful book.

One thing I've come to terms with recently is that in this time in Peru, God is drawing me close to Him, through pain and trials, but nevertheless, closer to the Father. I see certain things He is working on in me, how He is preparing me for the future, whatever that may entail.

I'm still learning to love. I'm still learning to serve. I'm still learning to trust. I'm still learning to believe God, to be bold in faith. I'm still learning to walk well with God. And I'm still learning His love for me, though I'll never fully understand that.

The good news is this: God so LOVED the world that He gave His one and only Son, so that whoever believes in Him may not perish but have eternal life (John 3).

Also check out 1 John (pretty much all of it) and Isaiah 41.

All for love.

Traveling...

2010-02-08T00:17:00.002-05:00

A quick update on this week: I'm going to be traveling to Cusco, Peru, and I'd love some prayer. Not just for me, but for a fellow Journeygirl, Ellen. I am going primarily to help out the ESL ministry there and just spend time with her. It's going to be a sweet time of encouragement for both of us (she is alone there as well). If you would pray that we can dive into the Word together and really be in prayer over our ministries, that would be much appreciated.

In addition to focusing on REAP stuff and "life stuff," we also might have the opportunity to help out in some villages near the center of Cusco. In January much of Cusco, Ayacucho, and Puno were affected by very heavy rains. Flooding occurred, bridges were washed out, and people even died. The communities have been severely damaged and the people are in need of food, clothing and a general rebuilding. Ellen and I might get to help out; my prayer is that if I do go, that the love of Christ is shown and that physical needs are met as well. Check out the link below for more info on the situation there. FYI: Machu Pichu is closed due to the floods, so if you were planning on coming down here for that, reschedule.... ;)

I love hearing from people, so shoot me an email if you'd like. I'm excited about the days ahead, and I pray you're seeing God in your lives and all around you.

http://enperublog.com/2010/01/26/emergency-declared-in-cusco-heavy-rains-flood-the-region/

Cool story...

2010-02-01T23:58:00.002-05:00

A friend passed this to me and I was immediately inspired after the first reading. Check it out, it's a very cool story, though certainly sad. Underneath the link to the news story is the Chandler family's blog, which is also awesome.

http://ow.ly/12jQm

http://themchandlers.blogspot.com/

Newspapers

2010-01-31T19:37:00.001-05:00

In hopes of lightening the mood of my blog world (it's been kinda....serious, lately), I've decided to give you some insight into a few funny and random (and here's hoping entertaining) cultural differences between Peru and the United States.

My source of inspiration has come from my current "roomie" Marta. She is Peruvian (though she has had a lot of experience with silly gringos), and she has been staying with me this month while she is taking a summer course at her university in Arequipa. It's been a lot of fun and very enlightening, to say the least. I've thoroughly enjoyed the company, and as the days go on, there are always little things that continue to surprise me concerning cultural differences.

So here you go, story number one. I'm going to try to narrate it as best as possible. Be on the lookout for future posts about the goings-on of the locas (crazy girls) in the bi-cultural apartment in southern Peru.

The scene: Jesus (our Peruvian friend, not the Christ), Marta, and I are watching some random movie called "All About Steve," with Sandra Bullock. Side note: I do not recommend this movie. I think there were MAYBE two funny parts. Sandy, not your best work.

Anyway, a character in the movie is walking down the sidewalk and puts a quarter into those antique-looking things you then open and take a newspaper out of. You know, very 1993. I can't even remember what they're called....but you know what I mean, I hope.

Marta sees this, sits up, and asks me what this contraption is. I explain that you pay for a newspaper, open the little door-thingy and take it out. She has this look on her face of absolute astonishment. I'm laughing already because I know what's coming next: "Pero solo sacas uno?" "But you only take one?"

"Yes, yes," I reply..."solo uno." She continues in this mode of disbelief and I'm forced to pause the movie. At this point I'm prepared to explain our random North American custom, while also realizing that I've never thought about the point she is about to make.

Marta: "But do people actually take just ONE newspaper????

Me: "Yes...I mean, normal people do. You pay for one, you take one.

Marta: "Yeah, but do people really JUST take one????

Me: "Si pues, chica....why would you want to take more than one?

The million dollar question: "Why would you want to take more than one?" Marta and Jesus are laughing hysterically at this idea of being able to open a box after inserting a coin and taking just ONE newspaper. I'm in awe over their awe. And the explanations ensue.

Reason #1 as to WHY Peruvians would want to take more than one newspaper: Peruvians would insert the coin and take all of the newspapers and go house to house and distribute them to their friends.

Reason #2: Peruvians would take all the newspapers and sell them on the street.

Reason #3: Peruvians would take all the newspapers and use them for "useful things," ie covering the sidewalks when you're painting a building.

Reason #4: Peruvians would take all the newspapers "solo por gusto" ("just because"). “Segun nosotros mas es mejor," says Marta ("according to us, more is better").

There you have it. The top four things Peruvians would do with all the newspapers they can get. Needless to say, this was a very entertaining conversation. More to come, I'm writing things down as they occur due to my faltering memory.

Forgotten love.

2010-01-29T00:08:00.003-05:00

"She's forgotten her first love.....He's forgotten that she ever went away and broke His heart."

Just a quick thought as these lyrics of a Third Day song called "Gomer's Theme" echo in my room at this late hour: How many times in this life have I walked away and sought after something that isn't of Christ Jesus? More than I can remember, actually.

I just finished reading Hosea. I love this book--the imagery, the metaphor, the stories woven into it. I can see Hosea walking up, perhaps defiantly, perhaps exuding sadness--nevertheless, he has to pay to retrieve his wife after she has left him.

Christ died on the cross for our sin. Period. It is finished, it is completely paid up.

And yet over the last 15 months I've been brought to my knees in repentance more times than I can count, and that is still not enough. I'm Gomer. I'm Israel...I have a tendency to wander sometimes. I come back home because He has allured me and spoken tenderly to me (chapter2). He reminds me of His grace, of His ever-lasting, never-failing love. And I go home.

One of the things God has taught me a lot about recently is that I'm not perfect. It's one of those truths you always hear, but you have some moments in life where it is hammered into you a bit more; this is one of those moments. I'm not saying I want to wander from God. I'm saying that in my time of questioning, of doubting, of wondering what it is I really believe in, God is faithful to always come after me and remind me of His grandeur. Who He is and who we are to Him. Gomer, Israel...wandering prostitutes and unfaithful lands...But by His promise, a child of the King, a sheep with a shepherd who will always, always come after us.

Hosea 6:3; 14:4-5..............................Redemption. Rain. Grace. Healing.

What goes around

2010-01-14T12:43:00.002-05:00

comes around.

Last night I read Psalm 27. It's one of my favorites. I read through it and then looked at what date I had marked next to it: January 2009. Funny how God allows us to come back to something that we read a long time ago; it just goes to show how living and active the Word is.

The last part of the Psalm is what stood out to me on my most recent reading:

"I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord."

God has blessed me in such wonderful ways over the past 12 months. When I talk about blessings, keep in mind that at the time, I didn't necessarily recognize them as good things. But in January of 2009 God gave me the promise found in Psalm 27. And in January of 2010, He is reassuring me of the same truth: He is good, all the time, He is good. I know that no matter what comes my way, I'm not alone. His Spirit is here, and He leads me through valleys of sorrow to rivers of joy.

2010 is going to be exciting. Life in Peru is wrapping up in about seven months, when I will return to the States. The million dollar question that everyone is starting to ask: "What's next??" Answer: I have no idea. Absolutely no idea. Stop asking. :) All I know is that I'll go wherever Christ tells me to go. (For those of you who want a more concrete answer, here is what is floating around in my head: Enrolling in a program for teachers of english as a second language [fairly desirable], grad school of some kind [not that desirable], working in the States at a low end job because I have no other option [this is my least favorite, by the way], coming back to South America for work/ministry purposes [this is my favorite, but who knows].)

Pray with me that my time here is fruitful. That I bear fruit. That God gets the glory in everything. That the life that I've planted here is left with roots founded in Christ, so that others see Him in me.

I do hope your new year has started out beautifully, and that whatever comes your way, you rejoice that God is in control, and that He is good.

Random: I have recently discovered some new music (new to me, at least). Check out Lindsey Kane and Ryan Delmore. Both are incredible musicians.

The Best Sunsets Come

2009-12-14T19:59:00.005-05:00

...with clouds. They can be the kind that God has splashed across the sky in a seemingly haphazard manner, or the kind that are big, comfy, and settle deep into the atmosphere. With summer comes clouds here. I've been enjoying the sunsets from my roof--almost every night a plethora of color descends and the sky becomes a canvas, with blues, purples, oranges, pinks, reds, and yellows lighting up the heavens. Here are some pictures. Enjoy, and praise God.

I love Europe.

2009-11-09T12:50:00.008-05:00

This is some of the food we ate in Lisbon: We ate and ate and ate some more. They had amazing pastries and coffee.

Above: A mill close to the lookout for the Western-most point in Europe, Cabo da Roca.

Right: They have some beautiful beaches in Portugal. We saw a pro-surfing competition, and later we got to surf!

Below: Susan and I in a historic part of Lisbon.

Below: Caroline and I at Parque Retiro in Madrid; all the girls: Susan, Brittany, Caroline and Julia (and myself in the middle).

Below: Pretty shots of a flower store, a street "bookstore" and the Retiro greenhouse in Madrid (with fall colors showing); Our very cool hostel.

On writing.

2009-11-08T15:31:00.005-05:00

I recently read an article by Jon Foreman (the lead singer of Switchfoot, and probably a potential best friend, should I ever meet him) and he wrote that "Poetry can get under the skin without your permission." I love the truth of this statement, and I would say the same applies for anyone who desires to craft words into some sort of meaningful outlet, whether it's poetry, music lyrics, prose--it all has a way of creeping into the veins of the artist and shaping itself into something uncontainable, irrepressible...wild.

I am just finishing up a journal. I love completing something, writing until I can't write anymore and then saving those words, knowing that they're on a page on my bookshelf. I can access them at will. I can open the pages and find sacred thoughts, yearnings, and words that my hand produced. I write because it's the one creative outlet I feel like I'm actually decent at. I write because it's fun. I write because I get excited at the prospect of someone reading my words someday (is that vain?) :)

More than anything, I have realized that I write to glorify God. The words that spill from my pen onto the page are no accident. I can look back in a completed journal and find exactly what I was feeling on any given day, whether I expressed it as a prayer, as a poem, or as a simple catalogue of my day.

Starting a new journal for me signifies starting a new season of life. As I record the last words in my well-worn friend, I think about how excited I am to experience new blessings and new trials in the year to come. It's been a good year--a hard year, but a good year. The ride continues.

My prayer is that God continues to allow me to enjoy what He has given me, to His glory.

Here is an excerpt from my journal that I wrote when I was riding on a train in Lisbon, Portugal (a beautiful trip, by the way--more on that later).
**********************************************
Why is it that I search for beauty? I found myself trying to constantly stray from anything remotely ugly yesterday as we were traveling around the city.

God made us to long for beauty--Himself, namely. Things eternal, not of this world. Yet not everything in life is pretty. Sometimes it's ugly, hard, what-have-you.

I might be too idealistic. I might be in this stage of "maybe the next thing will be more beautiful than this" (see Ecclesiastes 3, which came to mind later). But what if it isn't? God doesn't promise ease, nor does He promise beautiful, happy circumstances all the time.

Therefore, in everything, whether it be physical surroundings or my lousy spiritual state, I should seek out God...even in the not-so-breathtaking moments.

He is there.
***********
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jon-foreman/goodness-precedes-greatne_b_322551.html

Springtime.

2009-10-14T00:37:00.003-04:00

Hola a todos. I haven't written in awhile, but thought I'd do a quick update.

I love spring. I love how it begins and how it grows into summer. I love the breezes, the smells, everything. Spring here is beautiful. Purple flowers are starting to bloom, the grass is turning green, people are passing more time outside. It's the kind of weather you want for a picnic. It's the atmosphere that speaks of something coming. In my mind, the "something coming" with summer is newness.

Newness=change. I have never liked change. But I'm used to it now, very much, actually. Change can be good; it leads to growth. I have come to appreciate that, even though the pruning that often comes with change is painful.

I have no idea what is going to happen after December. I will still be here (I leave in August), but I won't have roommates, possibly for awhile. I have come to appreciate solitude in a way, and God reminds me that I'm really not alone. I have new ideas about ministry. Please be in prayer over new opportunities. I was talking to Miriam (another missionary here) the other day, and I commented on how difficult ministry is. When you couple that with a new culture and potential problems in that arena, serving others is "otra cosa" (a whole other story). Pray that humbleness comes, only because I'm being shaped more into the image of Christ.

Notice that my English is going away. I've started to take a Spanish class once a week for four hours at a time. I love it. It's been really good to be learning again, and I feel like I'm being productive. I've also started taking salsa lessons, which is a lot of fun...except when weird latinos who think they can dance want to enlighten me to the ways of their dance moves. No, gracias. At least I have fun stories, though. :)

I'm going to Europe very soon! I will spend some time with girls I met at training in Virginia more than a year ago; in fact, I'll celebrate my first year as a Peruvian in Lisbon. I'm truly looking forward to this time. Please pray that it is encouraging for all of us; also pray specifically that I don't look to these beautiful girls as my answer to any troubles I've faced recently. I will return to Arequipa, possibly to face other trials. But I know God is preparing the way.

Thanks for visiting my life through this blog. This is just a small piece. Sometimes I wish all of you were here to live life with me, to know this culture, these people. I'd ask one more thing: Lift up a renewal in my heart to see lost people come to the Lord. More than anything, ask for a softening of my heart. That's hard to admit in web-land...but it's the truth.

Much love. Blessings.

Run after Christ. I say that to remind myself, too. :)

"Electric"

2009-08-16T21:41:00.007-04:00

defines this last week in Arequipa. The party started last Friday and didn't end until last night. While overwhelming (learned that word in Spanish: "Conmovida"), it was pure fun, ala latinos. Happy 469th birthday, Arequipa.

Last Friday I went to the "Tuna Match," featuring groups from AQP, Lima, Bolivia, Brazil, Spain, Chile, and Ecuador. Miriam and I still don't really know what a "Tuna" is. We know it's a fruit and a fish; apparently, it's also a Spanish tradition, with a group of guys singing who wear weird clothes and dance. Regardless of our confusion, it was a great time. Music, people on stilts dancing around, free stuff, and the always amusing and nostalgic cultural deal of thanking the city of Arequipa OVER AND OVER AND OVER again made it a lovely (and very cold, might I add) evening. It also solidified my assumption that Chilean men are good looking. :)

Throughout the week, I was able to really surround myself with people I love. I had surprisingly good English classes, which is always an encouragement. Those guys really do take care of me, which is great. I met new friends and potential translators. I got to hang out with Efrain and Dorcas and do what we do best: Eat. A lot. Miriam and I went to the Catedral in the Plaza de Armas and listened to the Cusquenan Symphony. I've started to volunteer at a children's daycare, so I hung out there for a bit and chatted with some women who also work there (I've GOT to practice Spanish). A friend's family invited me to lunch, and it was a lovely time of chatting and praying together.

God always surprises me when I least expect it. Picture this: Walking down the street and feeling a little low. Seeing no one you know, with no prospect of this beautiful thing (running into someone, getting a phone call) happening. Being "out and about" with no purpose--only leaving the house because you'll go crazy if you don't. Basically thinking that it's going to be a rough day. Then, all of the sudden, you realize you're not alone. For whatever reason, you make the choice to repeat and claim that you're not alone. When you start whispering prayers to heaven, choosing to recognize His presence wherever you are, joy overcomes you. A small miracle.

That happened to me this week. I think it was Wednesday or Thursday.

Moving on. This weekend was loco. That's Spanish for crazy, for all you English-speakers out there.

Observations of partying in Peru:

1. Imagine a college football game weekend crowd, then multiply that by 100. EVERYONE comes out of their house for Dia de Arequipa. I mean, everyone. I walked into the Plaza de Armas Friday night, and there was a sea of people that can't be explained.
2. People start partying WAY ahead of time. The actual day is Saturday, but the fiestas start Friday and last well into the night. Fireworks at 2 am, anyone?
3. Dress for these events is apparently very important. They're basically showing themselves off in front of the whole city, so they have to look your best (a HUGE paradox for a lot of Peruvians... sorry, but it's true).
4. A "parade" in AQP is a completely different concept than what we normally think of as a parade. What I witnessed yesterday was a parade. To Peruvians, this is more than a parade--it's a "Corso." I've never heard this word. I know it now, but I also know that they just had a parade. Nada mas.
5. People start sleeping on the sidewalks days in advance. Why, you ask? To save seats, so that they can later sell these seats for said "Corso." One seat can go for as much as ten dollars. I paid ten soles (3 dollars) for my seat and could see just fine. It was a lovely parade, might I add.
6. Rules of drinking in Peru: a. Everyone from age 12 to age 67 walks around with a HUGE bottle of Arequipa or Cuzco beer, just pouring cup after cup. b. 14 year old girls get drunk next to their family members. c. Women make a spectacle of themselves. d. Men become even more disgusting than usual. **I was going to say this is "different" than in the States, but is it, really?
7. Rivers of urine run throughout the streets and sidewalks, "watering" the grass. I don't even want to know what I was stepping in Friday night as I traipsed through downtown. They just love to pee out in the open.
8. It's dangerous to walk around after a certain hour if everyone's drunk. It's also practically impossible to find a taxi. What to do? Well, I didn't want to be groped or raped, so I waited and eventually got one. THEN you have to convince the taxi driver to take you where you need to go. Last night I waited on this whole process for about 45 minutes. It was worth it though: I got to hang out with some cool Christians. :)
9. Being the only white girl in the whole party is pretty crazy. Sure, tourists are around, but when I branch out of the tourist areas, it's always interesting, especially in the fiestas. Crossing through the parade (i.e., walking through the parade) MULTIPLE times with Efrain clapping and yelling "Mira la gringa" just to joke around with me is lots of fun.
10. Arequipenens are a proud people year-round. Imagine the pride felt on the anniversary day. Patriotism flows throughout the city. Heck, they get fined if they don't put a flag up. You have to be patriotic, it seems.

Ok. Well, there's a synopsis of my most recent adventures. Chau!

is it ever gonna be the same?

2009-08-09T23:10:00.003-04:00

I’ve been thinking about blogging for some time now, and at the request of my mom, here it goes...

First, happy August. Peruvian winter is almost done, Praise God. The other day the weather changed dramatically for a few days: It got windy, cold and it started misting. I’ll include a photo of the volcanoes, which quickly became covered in snow. It was a dramatic weather change, but worth it to see the mountains blanketed in snow.

The last couple of months have been defined by sporadic busyness, ministry changes, and lots of visitors to “Hotel Sarah.” Since Stacey and Nathaniel were here, we had a lot of schedule changes, as well as new opportunities in ministry. It was good to have them here, but now that they’re gone, things will look significantly different since I can’t do the work of three people. There is a girl coming in September for a few months to help with ministry; be in prayer for her as she prepares to come.

In June and July, I had at least 24 people come through Arequipa to visit/rest. As summer missionaries are traveling throughout villages in Peru, they will sometimes come through the big cities, and I have the privilege of hosting them in AQP. Having people stay/visit my home really has become a ministry in itself, and while it can be tiring, God has taught me so much through it. I’ve learned what it is to just give without expectation, and how sweet it is to receive unexpected blessings in return!

I’ve had the opportunity to travel a good amount: I went to Lima again for the end of summer transition time (work related, but I also had a BLAST with some friends there), and in June, I got to go to Nazca in central Peru, also for work. We had a lot of meetings, but I did get to sandboard, which was one of the best things I’ve ever done. To be honest, traveling around has been tiring, so I’m excited to have a break until October, which will be the Europe adventure (Madrid and Lisbon!!).

In July, I got to go back to the States for a quick visit. It was good, but it was great to return to my current home country. God continues to use that trip to show me a lot about my relationship with Him. While it was good to hug my parents, spend time with my sisters and friends, eat good food, and reunite with my dogs, the Lord showed me what I really ought to be doing when I’m desperate, when I’m at the end of my rope: Go to Him. He is the only one that will satisfy, after all. Man, Jesus is good even when I turn away and seek out other things or people. Please pray for me during this time, that I will just be loved on by Christ and realize that He truly is all I need.

On a less serious note, some highlights from the States:
1. listening to rainshowers on my deck
2. sweet tea
3. thanksgiving food in july
4. getting a tan, going out on a boat
5. Athens fun, going to my fave places
6. driving
7. going to the grocery store and seeing food I can’t buy in Peru
8. laying on my fluffy, pillow-like puppies☺
9. sitting with people who know me…and knowing who your real friends are (a very valuable realization)
10. humidity (never thought I’d say that)

I thank y’all very much for keeping up with me. I’ve now worked for the Company for a year now; I’ll be back in GA next August, tentatively. PLEASE, PLEASE lift up the work here in the meantime. Because I’m going through some personal challenges, I’m feeling very un-motivated to work and to serve. I’m asking for your help; I don’t love asking for help, but if I’m going to make it over the next year, prayer will have to be huge. I want to be purposeful, I want to remember why I’m here, and above all, I want to be a vessel for Christ and see Him glorified.

...more to come as thoughts float around in my head...i'm trying to pull them all together...

He has loved us since we've breathed, and He'll love us for forever...

2009-06-15T01:42:00.003-04:00

**Two other new posts are also below this LONG one... :) All of this is in lieu of the email update I promised awhile back.

Psalm 118:13
…I was pushed back and about to fall, but the Lord helped me. The Lord is my strength and my song; He has become my salvation.

I do pray that this finds you all well. Can we talk about how AWESOME God is? He just really astounds me, and I hope that you’re seeing Him in beautiful ways in these times, even if you're going through hard waters and hot flames...

Some random updates:
-I had my first doctor’s appointment in Arequipa. I had to go to the dermatologist. I waited for two hours for a ten-minute consult. I am now on a ton of meds, and we’ll see if any of them actually work.
-We’re taking salsa dance classes from a guy named Edu, who is from northern Peru. I like Edu because he is normal and not sketchy. The same goes for my gym friend, Lucho—I actually like going to Peruvian gyms more than American ones.
-I can’t speak or think in English anymore. I know you’re thinking that I’m ridiculous right now, but it’s true. In being around Spanish and speaking it most of the time, I’m peppering English with Spanish, and sometimes I can’t remember simple words in English, but know what I’m trying to say in Spanish. It’s lots of fun. ☺
-Winter is coming. It’s quite strange. The sun is out all day for the most part, but it starts to get really chilly; it’s even pretty cold in the shade. I’ve learned even more just how much I love warm weather. In other news, we’ve had a couple earthquakes recently. One of them even made me actually get off the bed, prepped to leave my house if necessary…I think it was about a 5.4, five hours south of us.
-I am blessed by white people AND Peruvians these days: We have a small English study every Sunday night, and it is just great to worship in my heart language and be with Americans for a time. My Sunday morning fellowship is beautiful, too. I truly believe that God is using this small group to be an example of His light in a country that has a very-skewed version of the Gospel creeping into every corner. I’ve been blessed to be in a solid community of believers, and I meet new people all the time through Iglesia Refugio. El Pastor, El Jefe, El Comandante ,and my great amigo Efrain and his family have become like family to me (as have others within the church). We have such a great time together. I’ve gone horseback riding with them, eaten Pizza Hut to celebrate Mother’s Day together, had them over to eat, gone to eat at their house (Dorcas is a great cook, and we like to eat ☺) and had fun at the market. I’ve also started to volunteer at the Café, which is going to present some really great ministry opportunities. Pray that the church at Refugio is strengthened, and that recent monetary issues concerning the Cafe are resolved, because it truly is an incredible ministry.
-Things are in full swing with ESL classes! We have something almost every night of the week, and we continue to pick up things to fill our days. Nathaniel and Stacey are certainly blessings, and I truly believe that God is going to touch so many lives with their presence here. I LOVE our students, and their zeal for learning English AND the Bible is great. They bless me all the time, and I feel so encouraged by being able to meet, work, and fellowship with them. There are hard days, obviously, but the good outweigh the bad. Stacey and I are having our first women’s meeting on Monday (tomorrow), and Nathaniel will be having a men’s event as well. We’re asking that those go magnificently, so ask with us, please.
-I’m going to Europe in October! I’m so excited. Susan and Caroline and I will spend time in Madrid and Lisbon. I miss those beautiful girls so much, and I can’t wait to see them. I’m a little nervous about being around Spain Spanish, though…that will be interesting. Speaking of J-Man friends…Gosh, I miss y’all. I was so blessed to hear from some Africa friends and know that they’re in prayer over Peru. What a blessing to know that Africa is connected to Peru. Know that I’m so pumped to see friends again in the future, but until then, I’m so excited about the work God is doing around the world through all of you. Please pray for friends around the world who serve in obedience to Christ to see His name made known in all corners.

God is teaching me a lot. I’ve entered into a season of admitting some things to God that I haven’t wanted to talk about with him. Isn’t it interesting how we try to hide things from the One who created us? I do it even when I don’t realize I’m doing it. As always, He is faithful even when I am not; He forgives when I come before Him, ashamed of what I’ve done or what I’ve not done; He is here even when I don’t think He is; He provides for me in ways I can’t comprehend; He equips me in things I find myself to be not-so-good-at; He answers prayer in ways we want Him to and in ways we don’t want Him to, and that’s ok; He puts people in my life who teach me patience, who teach me love, and who teach me about Himself; He tests me and pulls me into the flames so that I emerge stronger in HIM. So much happens in this life as a daughter of God, it’s really beautiful. In eight months of being in Peru, I’ve learned more about myself, about others, and about Christ-in-me than I have in my entire life, or for that matter, my almost-five years of being a Christ-follower. I can’t wait for the year ahead.

Danielle (my friend in Africa) reminded me of one of my favorite verses the other day. I was spilling some of my troubles to her (and they've been great) and she was gracious enough to give me this: Micah 6:8, which says, “He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” This is pretty much it, right? Let’s all go out, wherever we may be, and spread justice and love and mercy and righteousness in the name of Jesus Christ. That’s the heart of life.

Home for now. Some photos...

2009-06-15T00:37:00.006-04:00

Violeta y yo being silly. I love her, she blesses my life on a daily basis.

Pretty much fanstastic. By the way, those are Volcanoes.

Welcome to Peru.

Me and my kiddoes. They're just really, really cute. :)

This is a pic of me (with the Reap folks) at the airport in Lima. We were picking up the summer m's that rolled in for training.

In the waiting room.

2009-05-25T16:36:00.004-04:00

Hola a todos!

I'm in Lima right now, in Starbucks, actually. Yay! Oh, how I miss overpriced coffee, elevator music, and the rich folks in Miraflores. I don't love Lima, but I love visiting; I feel like I'm in the 21st century. Then, as I arrive in my city in the always-perilous airplane landing, I'm overjoyed to be home, away from the bustle of Lima, exchanging that bustle for the Arequipenan bustle. I will return to AQP on the 1st of June, after our summer missionary training is over.

Some stories for you until I can write more:

1. I saw two cows in a taxi in Arequipa recently. Two cows, stuffed in the back of a station-wagon taxi, driving down a major road.
2. I helped lead worship in church one Sunday. Can I sing, you ask? Everyone can sing in Peru... :) It was fun, nonetheless.
3. Ten road workers tried to pick me up in AQP as I was leaving for Lima. Usually I don't say anything in response, but TEN, all saying things....Let's just say, I got a little frustrated. My spanish is always better when I'm angry.
4. The Swine Flu (gripe porcina) has arrived in Lima and Arequipa. Peruvians are always faithful to remind me that Americans bring it in--they should prep themselves for 120 college students to arrive tonight then, all potential threats. ;) They also love to wear masks around, thinking we're all going to die.
5. I have gifts! People have sent/brought in natural peanut butter, chocolate chips, CHEERIOS, body lotions, and other random goodies (thank you, Chris Harris, for the Dolly cd).

I'll update you with more doings in a few weeks. I know I said that I would send out an email update. It's coming! Be in prayer over Malea's travels as she returns to the States. Kelsey, Stacey, and Nathaniel are here until the end of July. Pray as we get started in Arequipa that ministry opportunities flourish, and that God gives us His vision for that city. I've been praying for some time for vision, join me in that, please. As I was listening to my ipod on shuffle the other day, "Be Thou My Vision" came on, and it was beautiful meditating on Christ as my principle vision; all else will come in time.

Love to all, blessings as you enter new seasons. (Above: Some cute kids I teach at a colegio.)

transparency.

2009-05-03T00:51:00.003-04:00

it's always best writing late, i usually feel real at this hour.

these have been hard days. i've been avoiding updating anyone on anything because sometimes i selfishly want to ignore the difficulty around me--you know, let the bad subside, then tell you something wonderful whenever "wonderful" shows up. but i was thinking the other day, "when is something wonderful going to come?" in emotion, in not-thinking-clearly moments, i tend to think that greatness is beyond me. then i remember that greatness has come and is within me:

Christ Jesus.

so even when i'm awfully low, He picks me up and reminds me of His wonder. when i see gray, when i feel tears, when i can't breathe, God gives me warm/bright sun rays, cool/refreshing tears mixed with belly-ache laughter, and His very own breath...

good days are ahead.

in the meantime, He brings me to Himself and to my knees.

thank you for your prayers, i covet them. continue to lift up the work here with the ESL ministry. our summer missionaries are coming in June, please pray for their precious lives to glorify God in great ways during their months in AQP. pray for other Great Commissioner's, that they would be a blessing to the work God is doing in Arequipa and in South America. perhaps more importantly, ask that the Father would create a revolution in this city that points people to Himself.

i'm begging Him to make His name known through all creation, for His renown. come quickly, Lord Jesus.

Just because...

2009-04-17T18:24:00.002-04:00

Hola from sunny Arequipa. It's utterly amazing how much weather affects my mood. It's warm, the sun has been out, the gorgeous snow-capped mountains are visible, and I'm a happy Peruana. :)

Just a quick update, basically because I haven't gotten around to actually writing an email update to send out....

All continues to go well here, there are about to be some major changes, though. Malea is leaving at the end of May, and God is bringing at least two (maybe three) summer M's to me. Pray that Malea's transition goes well as she leaves; also lift up the newbies coming.

Another important prayer request: There was a bridge collapse in Coracora, a small town north of Arequipa. 2 teachers were killed, as were 6 or 7 school children. That is a town that my team has down work in, and we currently have people there ministering. Pray that the people there affected by this tragedy are open to hearing why they can hope in life eternal.

God is good, isn't He? I continue to face challenges, but He reminds me that everything will be fine. It's been good to be surrounded by friends, Americans and Peruvians alike. I'm trying to stay busy and find other opportunities to minister.

Right before Easter I took a day vaca to the beach, perhaps one of my favorite places in the world. It was glorious because no one was there, the weather was great, and I was able to have great communion with the Lord. Easter came and went, but not without great fellowship and remembrance of Christ on the Cross. Praise the Father that the Son is alive. That's just beyond words for me.

I spent Easter dinner with American friends and Peruvian friends, and we did it up right. We had all kinds of yummy food, and I made my mom's Mac and cheese casserole dish. My pastor, Ephrain, tried Jello salad for the first time and made a priceless "ick" face. :)

I do pray that you guys are well and communing with the Father. Pray that I continue to do so. Be blessed, and until next time, much love.

Look for a newsletter update soon!

Parading around town...

2009-04-08T00:23:00.004-04:00

These go along with the parade story in the post below. :)

Before Semana Santa started, Arequipenans wanted to march for life, so that's what we did....

Surprising Reality.

2009-04-07T22:53:00.002-04:00

Thank you for checking the blog out, it's been awhile since I've updated. Good things continue to grace our lives as Malea and I press on in Arequipa. Praise God for new opportunities, March and April have been incredibly busy. We have had a huge amount of interest in English classes, and we've continued to see existing classes grow. We've started teaching at new locations, and we've also started private classes--everyone wants to learn English all of the sudden. We're also volunteering services at a colegio attached to a church; I work with kids ranging in age from 3 years to 17 years. It's been so beautiful hanging out with these children, and I love that I can help Pastor Ulysses and his wife advance their small mountain school.

New friends are always being made. Denka has become one of my mothers here in Arequipa. She is the mom to Muriel, the little girl I work with in English. Muriel is certainly a fiery spirit, but I enjoy hanging out with her and her mom. I feel blessed to have met Denka, a sister in Christ, as well as Violeta and Dorcas. Violeta is married to Renato, and Dorcas to Ephrain; all four are leaders in the church I've been attending. God has been good in blessing us with a church family. It certainly was unexpected, if only because I've seen such unsound doctrine pervading the "Christian" churches in Arequipa.

Semana Santa has started, and it has been a wake up call. For the first time in some time, God has shown me just how many people are without Hope because they worship things or people that are absolute lies. I've recently come to terms with the fact that Arequipa is the most Catholic city in Peru. Evidence of this includes witnessing people carrying their palms as they parade up and down the streets, as if to show off that they've attended mass; others sell their goods in the name of Jesus or Mary or whatever, hoping to make a profit in some weird "carnival-esque" fashion. Still others seem to just go along with whatever event is happening in the name of "Holy Week" to seem like they fit into the good Religious bubble. Please pray that eyes and hearts will be opened; Pray that God empowers us to speak Truth; Pray that the Spirit moves and people come to know that Jesus Christ is the only Way.

Random things...

-TONS of friends passed through AQP recently, and we were able to host them. It was so great to see fellow Americans, but I have to be honest, it was a shock to my system. It made me think about my return to the States, considering that I've only been here six months and I wanted to hide under a rock as I was surrounded by non-Peruanos.

-Funny story #1: I got to walk in a parade. I didn't know what I was committing to when I told a friend I'd go somewhere with her one Saturday morning; Kristen and I ended up being the only gringas in a parade, walking as reps. for an English institute. It was pretty funny. Check out facebook for photos.

-Super random, but I finally got to see Slumdog Millionaire. I've been waiting on this movie for a long time, and I finally saw it. Check it out, it was great!

-A group came through from Alabama to work with the Rainses, and it was great having fellow southerners here, they were so sweet. I had fun working with them and seeing their hearts for this city. They held a Pastor's conference for the Peruvian pastors and their wives, so that was neat. It also allowed me to meet some new translators. Yay for Roberto, Yessinia, Benjamin and Josue!

-Praise God for my friend and sister in Christ, Betty, as she has been such a support in some hard times. Lift her up. Lift up other friends, including Eva, Katy, Esmeralda, Giannina, and Laura. I would LOVE to start a women's study here, we'll see what happens.

-Lightbulb moment of the month: Peruvians have no filter (make that Latinos in general, a broad statement, I know...). Example: I had really, really, really bad acne and two of my friends thought it appropriate to say "Sara, what happened, you look awful." They then proceeded to ask me if I've been eating a lot of fat. All I can do is laugh at the differences in culture. :)

-Ephrain, our pastor, wants to start a new church plant in a district called Mariano Melgar. It is a fairly poor area outside the city, so he took us there recently to check it out. He leads a Bible study there now (there is no church), and he wants me to teach at the study sometime--in spanish. Ha! We'll see....Anyway, Ephrain is so vision oriented, I love it. Apart from this new church, he is also looking into creating a home for young pregnant women and ministering in that way. Pray for Ephrain and his family.

-New spanish praise and worship music has made me smile. :) I'm also learning how to make several Peruvian dishes, and I love it. My newest teacher was Kevin, and he made a mean Lomo Saltado.

-Classes are going well, people are hearing the Truth, seeking out more information, and wanting to hang out with us. Pray that they continue to come.

-Funny story #2: I travel up into Enace twice a week to teach at the school for ninos. The first time I went, I met Rambo--not his real name, obviously. When I heard this nickname, I chuckled and said "Like the movie?" and he nodded, knowingly. Anyway, Rambo, 8, is the class clown, the talker, but I love him. He looks at me after we'd made our introduction and mutters something like "bootefool eeis." Turns out he was trying to say "beautiful eyes," I assume, to me. Gracias. :) After teaching the class the correct pronunciation of his flattery, I look at Rambo, who then informs me, very matter-of-factly, that I should take off my earrings because I look better without them. It made me laugh, and I obliged. I love kids.

-We had an earthquake. We're fine, but it's always interesting. I was out in public for this one, and people seriously freaked out.

-Finally, praise the Lord that it has gotten warmer!! I miss spring in Athens, so the fact that winter is coming is difficult to handle. BUT the return of the sun has made the "cooler" temps seem warmer. I've been able to relax on my roof and catch some rays while viewing my gorgeous mountains, which have also reemerged. I'm still anticipating some really cold nights coming up, I'll let you know how it goes.

Blessings to all of you, prayers are appreciated, and know that I am on my knees for you. Until next time, much love.

"psalm 1 prayer"

2009-03-18T01:41:00.003-04:00

Plant me in the ground.

Make my roots dig deep into fertile soil.

Water me with the Word.

Make me to not falter.

Your precepts drift downstream

And my heart reaches for them...

clinging to them with rusty,

yet steadfast, hands.

Because of You I bear fruit,

Saturated in Your love

and watered by the

oil of Your Spirit.

May these roots dig deep into You.

Pure Joy...

2009-03-15T17:50:00.006-04:00

A month and five days after my last post, I find myself in a very different state of mind now. I'll try not to wax too poetic in this post, but be forewarned that God is moving in my heart like He hasn't (or at least like I haven't recognized) in a long while. Because of these lessons, many of them difficult to swallow, I've been fairly introspective, moreso than usual. In an attempt to just wait and "be inspired" to blog, I instead journaled a lot over the last month; this blog post, I think, will be paraphrasing much of what I've written in my journal. Here we go...

Lesson 1: Keeping myself in God's love. Jude 21 says "Keep yourselves in God's love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life..." This verse, though I've read it a lot, jumped out at me on Feb. 17. After our Valentine's Party (which went very well--thank you for your prayers), Peru celebrated "Dia del Amor/Dia de Amistad" for about a week, and I was reminded that there is no greater love in this universe greater than the love of God.

Lesson 2: Only God can point people to Himself, I am just a vessel. I think as each day passes, I'm reminded that this is a lifelong lesson. I've started to read the Psalms, and I am continually in awe of His power.

Lesson 3: God spreads His protection over me. I read Psalm 3 on Feb. 18: "But You are a shield around me, O Lord; You bestow glory on me and lift up my head. To the Lord I cry aloud, and He answers me from His holy hill." The end of last month was filled with whispers from the Lord that He is my protector, in everything: In physical trials, in my emotional/mental state, and in my spiritual life. Little did I know that I would enter into a trying time in which He would spread His protection over me (Psalm 5).

Lesson 4: I now have the supernatural ability to replace my mind with that of Christ. He has set me free from myself, praise God. I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. See Galatians 2:20...Enough said.

Lesson 5: Spiritual warfare is a reality. At Iglesia Refugio last week, we talked about being "mas que vencedores." "Sea preparada," He says, and that "mis armas no son de este mundo..." ("more than conquerors," "be prepared," and "our weapons are not of this world," all from 2 Corinthians). I've not felt so spiritually attacked in a long time. The last few weeks have been rough, and I covet your prayers: Pray that I flee all temptation, pray that I give no foothold to Satan, pray that I am given strength to persevere, pray that I choose to be joyful, and pray that God continues to refine me into a fisher of men. Perhaps more than anything, pray against the work of the Devil here, for he is moving; instead, pray in the name of Jesus that hearts are turned towards Him and that revival starts in Arequipa.

Lesson 6: Offering a sacrifice of praise. Again, fairly self-explanatory. In times of trouble, I learn what it is to praise the name of God, even when it is the hardest thing to do. Ultimately, it seems to be the only thing I can do.

Lesson 7: Repentance...and grace to forgive. I can be so stupid sometimes; even when I am told by the Lord that I have the mind of Christ and He has given me power over my enemies, I make some dumb decisions. I falter. I mess up. I'm still dirty...But His blood washes over me and makes me clean. God is faithful to forgive when I ask for forgiveness and acknowledge my sin. What incredible grace, what deep love He has for me; I cannot fathom it. I just know that the grace of God covers me everyday. Perhaps even more lovely: He gives me grace to forgive others, even when it is the last thing I want to do.

March 11: I was up around 3:30 because I could not sleep, I had an ache in my stomach. After speaking to the Lord about some things, He granted me sleep. The next morning I woke and praised Him and spent time in His presence. The first shuffled song that came up on my ipod was called "The Sun is Shining," by Third Day. One of my favorite bands, but not necessarily one of my go-to songs. Mac P. put words to what I was feeling that morning: "Yesterday I lost everything I had and loved. I cried out for you Lord, and You picked me up. The sorrow lasted through the night, but the joy came with the morn. The sun is shining...there is hope for me again."

How lovely that in the midst of struggle, He is shown strong in me. In the moment of my weakness, Christ Jesus is glorified because His power is made perfect. That's been a great lesson. Growing closer to the Lord, seeing His hand of protection, hearing His whisper of love, being encouraged in small, surprising moments...those times make this whole mess worth it. Jesus is worth it.

I praise God for these difficult times. I rejoice in Him for making Himself known. I glory in Him just because. Finally, I thank Him for the Body of Christ. I've been encouraged by you, and I thank you for your prayers. I would list you all, but there are too many, and this is already massive. People aren't kidding: This life is hard. But it isn't hard just because I'm in Peru. I'm learning more every day that being a Follower of Jesus Christ is a difficult path. I'd encounter hardship in Georgia, maybe in a different way than I encounter it here. But for now, with the knowledge that I am in obedience to Christ, the fact that He has placed me here for His purpose is all I need to know.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. James 1:2-3

Let's go on and LOVE.

2009-02-10T13:17:00.006-05:00

Happy February! As we quickly approach March, I'm in awe that I'm about to surpass the six-month term mark. Some things to look forward to: A possible trip into the mountains in March, summer missionaries coming at the end of May, and a family vacation in July.

First off, here is a photo of the mountains that you see when you fly into the AQP airport. Brittany tagged me in this thing to post the 4th photo of the 4th album on your computer; this is what I came up with...

Not only do I get to see these mountains everyday, God continuously reminds me that He is the Creator-God who fashioned them with His hands. May people in the mountains, near the sea, atop rolling hills, and nestled into valleys hear the name of Jesus and come to believe and confess that He is Lord over all.

The last post mentioned the strikes that had started in Arequipa; no worries, I'm still alive. I'll keep you posted on any future political turmoils that might arise. While the strikes were winding down, I was able to go to Lima for a team retreat. Not only did I get to meet a ton of new people AND see old friends, I got to hang out with my team for over a week. I shopped, went to the Fountain Park, ate yummy food, hung out with Limenos, and saw movies. While in Lima, I had to go to several doctors for checkups (including a small dermatological procedure, all is well) and to get blood drawn. I hate needles. I was a brave little girl, though, and made it through. Needless to say, I never want to get sick and have to go back to the doctor or the lab.

Lima was hot and sticky (a big change from the mild temps in AQP), but the retreat center outside of the city offered a nice break from the bustle (and heat) of one of the biggest cities in the world. I was blessed to sit and play with friends (and cute kids), but more than that, the Lord blessed me with His presence. We had some nice chats there, and I can't wait to meet with Him again in May when we travel back for the summer missionary orientation week.

In other news, James and Malea are both here! You knew about Malea's arrival in January, and now James has joined the team until the end of March. He has just jumped right in, which has been such a huge help. It's been great getting back into the swing of classes, and we're already thinking about how to improve them; we also want to potentially add another day of class, Lord willing. Pray that we are sensitive to how God would like to use us; pray also for continued language learning for myself and James, and that Malea will determine how the Lord wants her to learn Spanish.

To update you a bit on the boring doings of my small town life...well, not much is going on. I've been working on details for a trip coming in March. I hung out with some girlfriends yesterday, whom I haven't seen in some time. Malea and I have our ritual American Idol tv time over the weekends. I went to a small group on Saturday evening, which was a blessing. In fact, the small groups at church will be having a cake bake-off on Saturday for Valentine's Day, so some people are coming to my house on Friday evening to make it. That should be interesting, I didn't tell them that my oven is awful. Speaking of baking, I made some yummy peanut butter banana bread the other day, which was a good reminder of home. We've started a Beth Moore Bible Study on the life of Paul, which is wonderful.

In hitting the four month mark of being in Peru, my heart has started to miss home--not just people, but home. I know that this is my home for now, but I'm restless to be in the place I know like the back of my hand. Until then, however, God has been faithful to remind me that even in the hard moments I find myself in, He is here. As I reflect on my time here so far and enter into a phase of the "newness" wearing off, I realize how much He has already done and how much He will do. I've also witnessed the beautiful verbal encouragement of friends around the world who are in the same position as myself. As my friend Caroline recently told me, may we push through this discouraging stage to find that there are opportunities to love everywhere.

Enjoy the "Love month," as I like to call it. Let's press on to know Him and supremely encounter His love for us. In loving Him more we see Him even more, and we get to share that Love with others. Some prayer requests for this time:

-A "Valentine's Party" this Thursday at 7 pm is going to be a great opportunity to talk about God's love and the Gospel. Pray that people understand and are receptive.

-Continue praying over new friendships and an increase in the number of people coming to class.

-Pray for the teams coming out in the near future, and for the opportunity for me to tag along on a trip in March...more on that later.

-My personal request would be that I seek after His face harder than ever; that He makes me more and more homesick for Himself and for my heavenly home, rather than for the place I call home on this earth.

Know that I miss you all and am praying for you. A verse that has spoken to me recently is Psalm 116:7:

"Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the LORD has been good to you."

As if blogging might not be narcissistic enough...

2009-02-07T14:41:00.003-05:00

I did this "25 Things" deal on Facebook, which has apparently become increasingly popular. In an effort to indulge this narcissistic fad, here is my list on the blog. Following the list, I've posted a link to an incredibly funny story about it from TIME Magazine. Check it out.

25 things, just because.
1. In “The Sound of Music,” I will sometimes fast forward to the gazebo scene with Captain Von Trapp and Maria confessing their love. I love this part.
2. I can’t bake, but I like to think I can cook. I make messes when I cook, it’s therapeutic for me…
3. I like using periods when typing.................................
4. I have no idea what I’m doing tomorrow, much less in a year or two. Waiting on God to tell me.
5. I am really really really afraid of thunder and lightning.
6. I have been told I’m a networker (Caro ☺). Really, I just love being surrounded by the people I love.
7. I love to sing and have a secret (not-so-secret anymore) desire to be a backup singer in a band.
8. When I was little, I wanted to be a meteorologist, an Olympic swimmer, the President, a lawyer…I finally settled on teaching somewhere along the way. Now I hang out with people/teach in Peru. And I still like the weather, swimming, watching Letterman make fun of whatever President we have at the time, and being right.
9. I have an orange tank top (more like coral-ish) that earned me the name “ray of sunshine.” Let’s just say I’m not a morning person. CT and Sara found that out the hard way (Rule 1: Don’t jump on me while I’m sleeping). Also, I will never forget Dossy and Steph whispering “Sarah Bond Junco….” for fear of "waking the beast."
10. I love milk. Love love love it. I’m convinced I can complete the gallon challenge, though everyone tells me I can’t…one day.
11. I love a good hug, especially a reuniting hug.
12. I want to go to Russia.
13. I want to go everywhere. Especially a road trip around the U.S.
14. There is absolutely nothing like a good sunset.
15. I wish I could do a lot of things better than I can, but am learning that God has gifted me with everything He wanted to give me, and that is enough.
16. Back scratches are my favorite. Good stories are a close second. Back scratches during a good story…I’m golden.
17. I’ve got my dad wrapped around my finger, but I fear him as well…a nice balance. My mother and I are more similar than I think. ☺
18. My jaw clicks really loudly sometimes and I’ve even gotten it stuck.
19. Cristina and Kathryn can never get rid of me. I’ve realized after being in Peru, even for such a short time, that I will always, always need them—they’re the link back to memories, back to youth (good and not-so-good), back to when life was nothing complicated.
20. Crafting words=favorite Outlet 1. Reading=relaxation Outlet 2. Painting=creative Outlet 3. Good photos=I wish I could take better ones Outlet 4. Wishing I had money to take a pottery class=potential Outlet 5.
21. Unfortunately, I enjoy keeping up with the more shallow doings of the world, ie. Hollywood junk. The upside: If you ever need to know who just broke up with whom, ask me.
22. I used to have a really good memory; I feel like it’s starting to go downhill. The first sign of old age. ☹
23. Athens coffee with Athens people is always best. Frisbee in the park is the cherry on top.
24. Some of my best memories involve spooning—the closeness of girlfriends and just hanging out, being silly. Roomie Love and dancing with JG is irreplaceable ("Here we go again...")
25. I’m realizing that this life is really short. I was going to say too short, but I am also recognizing more every day that nothing is better than walking with God on the way to meet Him and His Son in Paradise. To end the randomness of all this: Life isn’t random. That’s cool.

http://www.time.com/time/arts/article/0,8599,1877187,00.html

I can't leave my house, so I blog.

2009-01-22T10:45:00.002-05:00

I just got home from a mini-adventure. I am supposed to teach at the University downtown every morning. I hop in my taxi, tell him where I'm going, and he says "Well, if we can get there..." I'm a little nervous at this statement already, given that we've hit day 3 of strikes in Arequipa. These strikes are "indefinite," so there is no telling how long it will last, and public transportation has shut down. It's interesting to see how these strikes affect the whole city: the workers, the stores, the schools, the whole economy in general. I've yet to get a really good answer about the reason these are occurring. Somewhere deep down I just think that Arequipenans like this kind of thing. Who knows.

Okay, back to my story: I'm in the cab, on the way to school. We come to the bridge and I see what he means by "manifestantes." It is a MASSIVE "strike parade" going over the bridge into downtown. I see the throngs of people and think, "I don't really feel like getting caught up in that." I ask my taxista if he thought it would be best for me to go back, and he says yes; I also see some neighbors, who tell me the same thing. We're goin' back, I decide. Thus, I sit here for day 2 of sequestration (yes, this is a word, I looked it up). :)

In other news, because of day 1 of being confined in my house, I did get to watch much of the inauguration on TV. That was very exciting. I'm still happy I'm not in the US for all this "change"--even given my current country's situation with "paros" (strikes). Nevertheless, I enjoyed watching history in the making. In my lazy state that day I also set up skype call forwarding, which means if any of you lovely people want to get in touch with me and I'm offline, you can call my name/number/whatever-it-is, and it will direct the call to my cell phone. I'm also setting up Vonage soon, which is just another step in the direction of communicating with family back home.

Tomorrow Malea (my new roommate, who is hysterical, by the way) and I are traveling to Lima for the week. I have a doctor's appointment, as well as business-related things to do. At the end of the week our whole team will leave the city for a mini-retreat of sorts. I don't really know what to expect, so pray that good things come of it. I am excited to go meet new friends, see old ones (Sandi, who is leaving in April!) and see a decent movie (I heard "Bride Wars" is out there now--I'm pumped!) So I'll be leaving the strike zone for the beach. I lead a hard life. :)

And now it's time for "Cultural moments that I have to learn to get over:"

-I have now had to twice remove my feet from a chair/bench. Apparently people here have a huge problem with feet being propped up somewhere. I think this is very ironic, given some of their other habits. Anyway, the first time this happened, I was in a park with Christy, and we were chatting on a bench. I pulled my feet up to my chest (shoes on), and the guard comes over, blows his whistle at me and tells me to put my feet down. Weird. Well, the second time this happens is at a cafe. Once again, shoes on. I had one leg down and one foot resting on the chair I was sitting in. The waiter comes over and asks me to stop. At this point, I've gotten the hint. They clearly don't like that here, but like I said, I'm a bit confused that they condone certain things and yet I can't do this.

-I have discovered since Malea came (because she points this out) that Peruvians have different sidewalk manners than we do. Ie, they don't move out of the way. You better be ready to just hop off the sidewalk if they are heading toward you, because they will not give anything.

-I am still a tourist to them. This is frustrating after having lived here 3 months. I think it's because I am very blonde and appear either American or Chilean or Argentinian (I can't remember if I've mentioned that I've been told I look like I'm from Chile or Argentina...) I also wear some of the things that the tourists here wear: chacos, blue jeans rolled up, dresses, COLOR. Arequipenans wear very little color, I've noticed. Anyway, I still get awful taxi rates because they think I'm a stupid tourist, and I still get asked to go to all the tourist joints. I think I am going to start wearing a sign that says "Vivo aca" (I live here).

On a fun note, I'm in the process of discovering some new music. It's been awhile since I've acquired a lot of spanish musica, so I thought I'd share what I've found: Fonseca, Reik, Camila, Black Guayaba, Tommy Torres, and Abel Zavala (a really good Christan artist). Check 'em out.

Finally, continue to be in prayer over the ministry here. We are having our second class at the cafe tonight. We will be studying some in 1 John, as well as having some fun with a game or two. Malea and I have been discussing the possibilities of growth in the classes, and I'm excited to hear what her creative little mind has to say. I'm so blessed to have her here with me. We are also thrilled to have James come and help out.

Blessings to all of you. Counting down the days until I get to see each of you again. Much love.

The big one...a long time coming...

2008-12-28T17:00:00.003-05:00

It’s been quite some time since I’ve posted anything detailed, so I apologize. The month of December has been fairly busy. I am finally moved into the new place, and I am now facing the great task of outfitting my apartment. My most recent purchase was my bed, which was a huge task to put together…all by my lonesome. But I love those projects in a way, I feel very accomplished after I do it…plus, now I can tease my dad that, contrary to his beliefs about my skills—or lack of them—I indeed can do something by myself. J

As we head into this new year, I’m reminded of how the Lord’s hand has been on my life this past year. He has proven faithful over and over, even when I might not see it. Last night at church, I was asked in Spanish, on the spot, how 2008 has treated me. All I knew to say was “Me siento muy bendecida.” I do feel very blessed—the fact that I am in Peru is astounding. I get to live life with people very different from me, yet very much the same in that we are all human and we are all searching for something greater. Being in Peru for Christmas (without my blood family and close friends) reminded me that the “something greater” is Christ and His life, His love, and His promises. This morning I heard an English sermon online on Luke 17, and the pastor commented that the Kingdom of God is very much in our midst (vs. 21). How remarkable that we get to celebrate a King’s coming every day of the year; even more remarkable is that He is with us even now! While I can’t wait for His reign on earth, I am comforted that Christmas is every day of the year—The Kingdom of God has come, and He is Emmanuel, God with us.

Now for some lighter news, but very much praiseworthy: God has answered prayer big time! I have met some new friends, had the opportunity to hang out with Peruvians, been hostess in my new home (I love it—I feel like myself when I have people over), encountered some new ministry opportunities, and talked to friends overseas (such a blessing to see Mary Ellen, Little B and Ayo all TOGETHER) as well as family in the States (my grandparents, my aunts, and my little cousin). OH! And I got Elf, finally! I just wanted something to remind me of home as Christmas approached, and I got it in my head that I NEEDED Elf (as well as a ton of Christmas music). My friend Simon located the movie for me, since I was not having any luck. A few days after I watched the movie, I was in the department store and got stuck behind a Peruvian girl who could not, for the life of her, work up the courage to get on the Down escalator. Needless to say, I busted out laughing in public and probably drew some looks—I couldn’t help it, it reminded me of Buddy’s fear of the escalator.

To finish my Christmas extravaGANza: In the previous post, I mentioned fireworks. After our meal of turkey, cold vegetables, homemade applesauce, beets, and something I didn’t eat that came out of the turkey (I tried it, it seemed to be liver, but I don’t really know), we went back to Mercedes and Edgar’s house and lit up the sky with about 12 million other Peruvians. Apparently Christmas Eve is the time when everyone shoots off fireworks; it was hysterical, I was in shock, just because it is so very different from my Christmas Eve’s at home. My favorite part was that everyone kept saying, “This is nothing, New Year’s is even bigger.” Oh goodness.

In more Christmas news, the Rains family has blessed me this season—I was able to spend some time with them, and I also got to babysit Caleb, which was so fun, even when he started to cry a bit too much for me. J I’d do it again in a heartbeat, though, I love those boys. My neighbors in my building are very sweet too. There are five floors, including mine, and I’ve met 3 of the families who live here. A couple even gave me small gifts, so that was really sweet. Pray that I can get to know them better—in my current state of feeling a bit lonely, I might soon be asking if I can come over. J

I have had so much hot chocolate and Paneton (similar to fruit cake, but better) this season. This is THE thing to do here: It’s called a Chocolatada, and it is simply eating and drinking together. They have it after every event, so I’ve had my fill of both. To be “American,” I baked a ton of cookies. I made Monster Cookies and No Bakes, and both were a hit with Americans, Europeans, and Peruvians. In the process of baking, I had to learn about my oven and how it cooks (I burned a lot of cookies), and I also had a gas leak that had to be fixed (all is well now).

Random things:

-I found a Christian café here, which is so great. It is going to be a blessing to have believers and a place to go if I need fellowship. Church is also going well; last night I went to the young adults thing and had a good time. It was very hard walking into a new environment by myself, in a different culture. People were really nice though and I hope to get to know some folks there.

-The weather is changing quickly. No more sunny days; rather, I now have clouds and cooler weather. Rainy season is coming! I need to find some rain boots…

-I have found a store where I can get cheap painting materials, so I am pumped about that. I've missed painting. I also am on the hunt for a cool tapestry or photo to go over my bed. I'll let you know when I find the perfect one.

-I’ve had good luck recently with cab drivers. After being proposed to awhile ago (I said “no”), I was fed up with sketchy drivers. However, I’ve been blessed to get dudes who seem genuinely interested in making sure I’m safe. I find it best to strike up a friendly conversation with them, and they usually respond in a friendly manner. (Don't worry though, I am still very much on my guard whenever I get in a cab.)

-A few days ago I was wandering around the department store, and a feeling hit me that I've not experienced in my life. Ever. In the sea of Peruvians, I just felt like I was getting weird looks from everywhere. I know, I was paranoid, but I felt it nonetheless--it was this strange feeling of looking different than everyone else. Like I said, I'd not experienced this before. When I'm around other gringos, it doesn't matter, but I've been bumming around by myself or with other Peruvians recently, and this feeling of "whiteness" in a non-white culture is interesting.

-I have the best view from my roof. I can see much of the city, the mountains, and some incredible sunsets. It is amazing.

Okay, if you stayed with me for my novel-sized post, I thank you. I'll try to be better about catching y'all up in the coming months. Much love.

Nochebuena.

2008-12-25T01:55:00.002-05:00

Alo from Arequipa. I'm currently getting snuggled up in my bed--the bed is a story for another post--listening to the remains of Christmas Eve in Arequipa. Needless to say, I did not know what I was in for when I committed to go to the home of a Peruvian. It's 1:57 and people are still going strong outside. To make a long story short, because I'm very tired, Christmas Eve is THE thing in Peru. Therefore, everyone gets their party on at midnight on Christmas Eve, after having had a big meal involving turkey.

I'll explain more about tonight at a later date, when I can collect my thoughts. Let's just say that I experienced more fireworks tonight than I have ever seen at any Fourth of July event in the States. The whole evening was really interesting, but it was just so funny to observe the cultural differences surrounding holidays.

Merry Christmas. Que tengas una feliz navidad. In the last two days I've gone to two Christmas programs and have been blessed by the reminder that Christmas is about celebrating Jesus every day of the year. Remembering His birth is wonderful, but then we must act on Who we know and Who knows us--the Good Shepherd. I am doing surprisingly well here during this time of the year, to the glory of God. I do miss family and friends, but He is all I need. May you be reminded today as you celebrate, as well as in the days to come, that Jesus es el Rey, el Salvador (Jesus is the King, the Savior).

More stories to come, and I'll expound on my Peruvian Christmas. Much love. Cuidate.

Beautiful days, park naps, celebrating friends, invitations, and moving on.

2008-12-03T16:50:00.002-05:00

Today has been a good day. Despite this seemingly never-ending feeling of being unsettled, I know things are about to change. We are moving into the new apartment soon, Lord willing. I've just been bumming around the city, enjoying the day. It's ironic that in Arequipa one can say "It's a beautiful day." This really doesn't mean much, it's 70 degrees and sunny every day. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the day in a small park with some friends. I just love lounging in the parks around here, doing nothing.

I'm still doing really well here. I've hit the one month mark of being in Arequipa, and I still love it. There is this strange feeling of still trying to get settled in. I consider this my home, but until I am IN my new house, I don't think I'll feel at home. Classes are going well, and I'm making friends with my students. As Christmas approaches, pray that I am able to really share with them the message of Christ. Speaking of Christmas, I have been invited to a Peruvian Christmas Extravaganza! I've been praying this would happen, and indeed it has. Mercederes, a new friend and owner of a cafe I have found, invited me to come. I'm so excited! I'll also spend some of Christmas with an American family here.

Tonight we are going to be having a Peruvian Italian dinner to say goodbye to Kathryn. She is heading back to the States for a bit before she gets married. I am very blessed to be surrounded by friends here and am in awe of all God has done. I remember being so concerned about not having any American friends in Arequipa. God has exceeded my expectations in providing American friends, Peruvian friends, English friends, and even German and Australian friends.

Okay, some stories, per the request of my mother. :)

-I was in Lima for Thanksgiving. A much better trip than anticipated, though now I have to go back soon because my Visa stuff wasn't quite ready. I can tell I would enjoy Lima a lot more in the summertime. AND I got to eat good food that I can't eat in AQP. Also, it was so interesting observing the differences between Limenos and Arequipenans. Let's just say I am an AQP hippie and was very out of place in business-like Lima.

-Peruvians have a very different mindset about what it is to hang out for a holiday. At Thanksgiving, we had about 40 Americans, all who ate and hung out for a couple hours, then ran out. We had one Peruvian family who showed up late and then stayed until 8:30 or so. I had a blast with them, they were so great! I was just tickled at the cultural differences.

-Last weekend we went to an orphanage. I had so much fun. Those kids are beautiful, and I was blessed by them. Raquel and I sang every Spanish Worship song we could think of.

-I have become pretty good at a card game called Nertz. If you know me, you know I'm not much of a card player, but I love this game. I still can't shuffle to save my life. I'm waiting to learn from a pro, though.

-I have become addicted to fresh squeezed Orange Juice, or "Zumo de Naranja" aca. It's so good.

-I want to find the movie Elf. This has become a huge quest. I can't find it anywhere in AQP, so I might have to wait until I go back to Lima. I'm currently experiencing Christmas fever and gravitate to anything Christmas-y in this "Summer of Christmas." It's so strange seeing beach equipment next to Christmas decor in the department store.

-Speaking of Christmas, it's coming to AQP! They just put the tree up in the Plaza and I am curious to see if they'll actually light it up. It's huge!

-The other day, I fell and busted my butt. I mean, I bruised my tailbone something awful. It was bound to come. I've been limping around, to say the least.

-I almost bought a dog. I decided not to, it wasn't overly cute. But I do want to get one someday.

Well, these stories don't seem to be too exciting. Sorry. :) I'll try to be more entertaining for the next post.

Happy December. Much love.

Warning: Treacherous activities ahead. (Mom and Dad, prepare yourselves before you read this post.)

2008-11-24T15:09:00.001-05:00

Picture this: I am scaling the side of a mountain, sans rope, and all I can envision in my head is that Sylvester Stallone movie where the girl falls from the bungee cord to…well, I didn’t die, clearly, and if you know me at all, you know that I tend to exaggerate. Anyway, as Nicole is yelling at me to straighten up to take a good picture, I am mentally freaking out in my attempts to find footholds as we precariously maneuver our way around rocks. There were definitely times when I was very uneasy and was wishing for a carabiner or two. I now understand why hard-core hikers and mountain climbers always pull out the whole “you have to respect the mountain” stuff. While I was fine, one misstep in my poor choice of footwear (Chacos) would have made me quite acquainted with the dried up riverbed in the valley below.

Nicole and I joined some students from the university and traveled outside of the city to Yura. Arequipeñans do a lot of stuff outside of the city, and it is fairly cheap to get to places by combi (mini bus—also somewhat of a death wish at times). The students decided that we ought to hike to waterfalls in Yura. It was a much needed day trip, and I loved getting out of town. We left our house at 6:15 to catch up with the kids and travel the 45 minutes to the town.

My first mistake: I wore my Chacos, thinking that this was going to be a semi-easy trek. No. (Also, Christy said, “Oh yeah, I hike in my Chacos all the time.” I blame her ;) I think I heard “waterfalls” and thought about wading through rivers and streams in the States. In Peru, you have to traverse massive desert mountains before you see any semblance of green. Once we hit the river, it was so gorgeous, and I was in my element. I loved climbing the rocks and wading through the water. (I only fell once, surprisingly, given my clumsy nature.) It was still a fairly rigorous hike to get to the big waterfall—you hike some serious terrain. BUT, the final waterfall was absolutely worth it. It was huge and the way the sunlight hit it appeared to make it sparkle (Pictures on Facebook). We had good fun wading around (Peruvians are funny and would only get in the water only after the white girls did) and taking pictures, and then we started for the long road home (another 2 + hours). The weather was great, the company fun, and the scenery majestic. It was quite an adventure, and I had a blast. I also have serious sunburn to prove it.

In other news:

-Today on the combi I saw the newspaper headline “Laura Bush esta enamorada con Peru.” This made me chuckle. (Side note: Bushie and his wife have been in Lima with other important people for some kind of summit. You can tell that I am really up to speed on news. ;) Anyway, I was glad to know that Mrs. Bush is in love with Peru.

-I made salsa and didn’t mix it with my hands for once. Usually when I do this, my hands burn so badly. Well, because Peruvian rocotos (peppers) are so hot, just touching them to chop them up makes my hands turn to fire.

-The other day I became acquainted with a Peruvian spa. That was an adventure. It was a good price: 12 soles (4 dollars) for as long as you want. That’s how we suffer for the Lord in Peru.

-I have determined that AQP is a hippie town. I love it. We get along great, even though I’m not a full out hippie here, because oftentimes “hippie” equals “touristy.”

-I got in a cab with a guy named Fidel. Enough said.

-I know I have been harping on how much I love the sunny weather here, but as the Holiday season approaches, I find myself missing cool weather. I do love the crisp air, the smell of Christmas trees, and the weathermen freaking out about “Winter Watch 2008/9.”

-I’ve started to teach some Bible Studies, English classes at an Institute, and even part of Nicole’s university class. Pray that I am given words to say to these people. I love doing it, but sometimes it can get overwhelming with up to 30 faces just staring at me.

Much love, because of His love. I miss y'all, especially during the Holiday season!

Only alive with you...

2008-11-18T13:56:00.002-05:00

The title of this post is inspired by a Jars of Clay song I have been listening to a lot. They say, “I’m only alive with you, I can’t get by, and I won’t get through. So put me in the river, and let me say ‘I do,’ cause I’m only alive with you.” God has been teaching me to lean on him immensely. It’s one of those truths that I have heard so often, but that I never tire of discovering anew. James 4:8 says “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” With confession comes cleansing and purity of heart, praise God. Like I said, I’m only alive when I’m with Him; may I be found in Him always. I can’t wait for that day when I step into a heavenly river filled with beautiful cleansing water where He will marry me all over again.

I hope this finds you all well. I have now been in Peru for a month and 2 days, and I still love it. I find there are times when I wish I could drive around in my car or eat Chick-fil-a whenever I want, but I’m adjusting to the walking/taxis and to going to the market everyday and getting really great stuff that is ultimately better than Chick-fil-a. Last night I made a veggie pizza that was surprisingly a big success given that the cheeses here are not like the cheeses at home.

I’m still getting used to city noises outside the apartment at all hours of the day and night (still waiting on the word to move, pray for this please). Last week Nicole and I woke up at 4 am to take a missionary couple to the airport. Though early, it was a blessing if only to see the sun rise over the mountains as we came back home. I also found out that quiet hours do exist in Peru—they only last from around 4 to 6:30 am.

We’ve had some fun adventures recently: Last weekend Nicole and Steve climbed Misti, so I hung around town (I need to train for this, it's quite a trek). I met some other missionaries and hung out with their family, which was really great. Apart from IMB folks here, there are Australian missionaries, British missionaries, Swiss missionaries, and German missionaries that I’ve met—it’s really cool meeting other Great Commission Christians. I also had an adventure with Esmerelda and Janina, two Peruvian girls who go to the university; they found me all by my lonesome in the Plaza and took me to Tingo, a little park outside downtown. It was really fun: I got to practice my Spanish, and they got to practice their English as we rowed around a tiny lake on a boat that cost 1 sol. (See facebook for pics)

Other fun things:

-Peruvians are incredibly strange about their money. If it is not perfect, they won’t accept it.

-We’ve been cooking a lot. Steve has gotten some recipes that he’s tested on us: Estofada (“al gringo”) and Aji de Gallina are some examples. Both were excellent, and we’ve had fun cookng.

-I taught for the first time at an English Institute. It was the funniest, most unnerving thing I’ve ever experienced. Imagine 25 to 30 students, ranging in age from 13 to 50, all staring at you, because, as I come to find out, they are scared of me. Apparently many of them have never seen a gringa. They all just stared at me, and it took me being my silly, crazy self to get them to loosen up. Another random thing: Students never call me “Sara.” I am simply “Miss” to them. Apparently it’s normal, but I’m already going through withdrawals of not being called “Junco,” since that is what I’m used to; I don’t even hear “Sarah” anymore, and when I do, it’s strange. J

-A couple of days ago Steve, Nicole and I went to Selva Alegra and just chilled out. We took towels and read and just enjoyed the afternoon. It was so beautiful out, and I love people-watching on Sundays, it’s quite entertaining. Sunday here is family day: People will either stay in or go to a park and hang out. Two bonuses at this park: I ate really yummy chocolate-covered pecans with coconut…it tasted like an Almond Joy or Mounds, only better. Also, we got pictures with the llamas, or alpacas, whatever they are. One of them spit on Steve. Check facebook for pics.

-We went to Alianza church this past Sunday, and it was really wonderful. The people there were so welcoming and I loved the music and the teaching of the Word. It was a sweet time of worship and communion with the Lord.

-I've discovered this new cafe called Zig Zag. They sell crepes, and I've tried a couple--they're okay, and I'm not a huge crepe fan. It's a touristy cafe, but still cute, AND it has free internet, thus the reason I have begun to frequent it. Cusco Coffee's internet is semi-functional, and I can only take so much Ritmo Romantico....this is the radio station Cusco has started to play. I hear the same songs (granted, in Spanish, so that is good) 12 times in 3 hours.

-Steve discovered the power of aloe plants, so now we are obsessed with healing whatever ailments we might have with aloe out of the plant. It's pretty cool, actually. If only I could get over this sore throat with aloe. Peruvians think that healing a sore throat involves simply wrapping a scarf around your throat, even in 70 degree weather. No, thanks.

-Finally, I'm reading a new book! It's called Crazy Love, by Francis Chan (thanks for the rec, Sam). It's really interesting, if only because Chan uses tons of Scripture to communicate truth that we hear a lot, but need to be reminded of. You should check it out.

Much love! Cuidense....

Going Home.

2008-11-13T11:14:00.001-05:00

A year ago today my beautiful friend Kristin went home to be with our Lord Jesus Christ. Though unexpected for all those she left behind, her passing into the heavenly realm was very much expected and anticipated by God the Father, to His glory.

I vividly remember every moment of that day—every phone call, every prayer, every tear and every hug. While my heart aches for friends and family left behind, I can only thank God for making her already beautiful and joyful countenance completely perfect.

Philippians 3:20-1 says “But our citizenship is in heaven, and we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like His glorious body.

All I know to do today is what I did a year ago: As tears stream down my face, I lift up my hands and sing praises to God for keeping His promise that He has prepared a home for us, and that I will see Kristin again.

To those who did not have the honor of knowing Kristin, rest in the fact that she was a vibrant witness for Christ and that people saw the joy of the Lord in her. She was loved by Dan, Cindy, Jessica, Jonathan, Brooke, and so many more family members. She was utterly cherished by a wonderful man named John. She has so many meaningful friendships, and everyone was blessed by Kristin, and, ultimately, Jesus in Kristin.

To those at home who knew her: I wish I could be there with you to remember her, but know that my prayers are with you as you celebrate her life.

Watermark song lyrics that have spoken hope into many circumstances proclaim this: “Arise and be comforted, for the Lord, he is good to the weary…For the Lord, He will renew their strength…For the Lord, He is good.

Storytime with Sarah.

2008-11-06T12:15:00.002-05:00

My posts are getting more lengthy because I have accumulated so many interesting things (to me at least), to mention. Some topics will be short, others quite involved. First, I am frustrated that I don't have internet in the current apartment. So, when I do get the opportunity to be online for more than 40 minutes, it is a big deal. I have so much to catch up on, and I've been pretty busy. I'll move into the new apartment in Yanahuara around the end of this month or the beginning of December.

First of all, I LOVE this city. I don't know it well yet, but I just know I love it already. The people I've met so far are nice, and I do feel semi-safe. :) I love the atmosphere-it is "small town" but in a city. There are a few things that are annoying: Construction here seems never-ending; there are "traffic cops" that blow their whistles for no reason at all; people here think I'm an alien or something because I look very different. Perhaps the worst thing about AQP so far is our current apartment. The location is great, but it is just too loud. For example, yesterday and today we have received wake up calls at 5 am. What kind of wake up calls, you ask? About 5 sledgehammers knocking down walls in our building, right above us. Needless to say, I've had about 9 hours of sleep over the past two days. Steve tried to help us out by coming over and talking to them, but we can't do anything about it. I cannot wait to move out of downtown, as cool as it is, to somewhere I can call home.

Over the past few days, we've been shopping for apartment stuff and going to English/Bible studies that Nicole teaches, which I will eventually take over. I have enjoyed going and seeing what I will be doing. Arequipenos are nice, and so much easier to understand than Limenos. Nicole, Steve and I have been hanging out: we have made dinner, watched movies, fixed things in the current apartment, etc. They found this place that has puppies and cats for sale, and they want me to get one. We'll see....maybe in the future, if only to see if I can keep it alive, thus being able to care for children. :)

We went to the market yesterday, where I met Gregoria, my new fruit lady. She was so sweet and kept saying how cute and nice I am, so that made me feel good. The market was fun, but I need to learn how to barter. Someone sold me a melon for way too much. If it weren't for other tourists here, mainly fair-skinned Europeans, I'd be the only blonde-haired-blue-eyed gringa in Arequipa.

I'm currently sitting in Cusco Cafe, which has free internet. I love it here, but am excited to explore the city and find other cute spots. I need to also be a tourist for a day and take some pictures and explore. Yesterday, Nicole and I came over to the cafe (where I always get Cafe con leche) to check out current events, given that the election had just happened. I wasn't surprised to hear that Obama had won, but instead of getting tons of info from CNN or Fox, I got much of my information from facebook; it was so hysterical reading people's statuses on facebook. I was so entertained by all of you in the States, so thank you. You're passion, zeal, and humor told me very much about the state of our country. On a side note, praise God that He is still in control, not any one person.

Other fun things:

-I hear more American music here than anything. Sad day. Yesterday Fergie's "Clumsy" came on, and I also heard "Sarah" in Saga while we were shopping.

-Oh, shopping. It's an experience in Peru. Plaza Vea is fun: It is Walmart, basically. Siglo Veinte is a cheaper version, but kinda sketchy. It's huge and has everything. The Mercado is also huge and has tons of great food. There are cute tiendas here with cool stuff, as well as "normal" shops: Topitop, Estilos, and Saga. Saga is somewhere in between Sears and Dillards, and it has tons of stuff. When you buy at Saga, you pay for everything separately, which is an adventure; you pay for the TV in electronics, cookware in the Kitchen section, blenders and coffee pots in another section, etc. It is very involved.

-The airport likes to cancel flights, I've decided. Our plane was canceled from Lima to AQP, then Kathy and Pam's flight was canceled from AQP back to Lima. We made it, miraculously. Needless to say, I won't be surprised if I show up in the future and my flight was canceled.

-Right before I left Lima, I watched the GA/FL game at an American bar...it was awful, I was with all Florida fans, who I really think are the most obnoxious people on earth. While we were at the bar, there was an earthquake. Don't worry, Mom, I'm fine. I never heard where the epicenter was, but it was a nice shake.

-My taxi driver the other day started asking me if I was married. He thought I was married to Anibal, and I quickly put that to rest. Then, he kept insisting I was married, so finally I just agreed with him. Big mistake. This led into a convo about family planning, "planificacion familial," I think. He basically was asking me why my fake husband and I don't have kids yet, and he wanted to know the best way to prevent that from happening, and how I, specifically, did that. I'm not kidding. It was weird at first, and I kept trying to change the subject, but he wanted to talk about it, so I just started making up answers. I would have been more concerned, but he was just an old Quechua man with 5 kids. Who knows, maybe he was just curious for his own sake.

On that sketchy story note, I think that's all for now. There is finally some Spanish music playing in the cafe, and I'm happy. :) I'll be touch.

For Him.

2008-11-04T08:30:00.001-05:00

Crisp, biting air pierces my lungs

Dancing lights speak of promises yet fulfilled.

Feet grace new roads, expectant-

I fell in love.

Tears softly run down

creating cool streams-

Proof of life.

Only good; whispers of assurance

He has said: It is time.

Great things are coming...

Good things.

2008-11-01T00:08:00.004-04:00

Praise God for unexpected surprises. He is always good about showing His love to us in the little things. Picture this: A park. Green grass. Blankets. Good books. And....sun. This afternoon, Sandi and I laid outside in a park across from the apartment. It was so delightful to feel the sun's warmth on my cheek, to see blue skies, no clouds at all. I don't think that this afternoon could have been any better.

For those of you who have yet to hear me whine about my current home, here is the reason why I am so excited about sun: There is no sun in Lima, Peru. Okay, that is a bit of an exaggeration, but most of it is true. Lima doesn't get very much sun, at least not at this time of the year. So, here's the good news: I am leaving Lima on November 1 for Arequipa, which is really my home, and which also happens to be sunny 300 days of the year. I've definitely learned in the last two weeks that I am a girl who needs some sun in her life. :)

I've had some good days recently, mostly hanging out with friends here. This feeling I have of not being able to do anything is about to change with my move south. Among other things, Sandi, Jessica and I have been hanging out a lot, roaming the city, drinking coffee, shopping, watching Lost (it just doesn't get old) and various movies with Austin and Anibal. We had a Halloween costume party last week for the ESL class, and that was tons of fun. The longer I stay in Lima and meet people, the more I do like it, and I will miss new friends.

The other day I sat at Starbucks for 3 hours. It was so good. I finished reading The Shack (thanks for the loan Chris Black, I don't even think you knew I had it...I'll mail it to you in Brazil). My take on the book: It is a good read--fun in the sense that it makes you think. It is quite introspective. Here's how I look at all the spiritual stuff, though: To everyone who thinks the book is the be-all-end-all of things, just pick up Scripture. The Bible, the Gospel, though offensive, is what the author draws from, and it is far more accurate and life-giving than any novel. So my advice, for what it's worth, while I know not much, is just to read the Word of God and fall in love.

Other funny tidbits that I have for y'all, if you're still reading after I spouted off about The Shack...

*Spanish here, at first, seemed like a breeze. Oh, it's absolutely not. I find myself saying "como?" more than any other word. I'd love to practice with people, but I need to understand them first. I think it's just that Peruanos speak really fast, and there are a lot of dialectal differences as well.

*My taxi driver the other day thought I was from France. Wow. I don't even know what to say to that.

*I am going to turn into a chicken before I leave Peru. I'm convinced that these people eat more chicken than anything else.

*I was excited the other day when I passed a local store and actually recognized it and the merchant in the store. The previous day I'd seen a man outside the store dancing with his daughter/sister. It was really cute. They were just salsa-ing, no music. Well, the next day, I saw him again. I know this sounds weird, but it was almost familiar....like I was actually home. I saw a complete stranger twice, but it was something recognizable.

*Peruvian movie theaters are an experience...good, but interesting. Here is a movie NOT to see: Ceguera, or Blindness. I thought it would be a good, interesting, "intellectual" movie, but I was wrong. Sandi and I walked out of the theater. Don't ask, I can't even think about it. I lost 8 soles on that awful creation.

*I've now seen much of what is available as far as shopping goes. Jess and I went to the Black Market the other day, which was interesting. I can't say I'll go back there. Then, we went to Jockey Plaza, which was really fun and nice, very much like an American mall. Today Sandi took me to a "middle of the road" plaza, where we went to Topitop, also known as "La gran tienda peruana." This cracks me up. Everyone here seems to love this store, and it is does have good stuff for decent prices. Maybe someday I'll embrace Topitop and actually buy something.

*There is a new creature in my life. I call her Devil Cat. The apartment I am currently in houses a kitten. Don't ask me her name, I couldn't tell you. Jessica got her for 5 soles, which is about 1.50. That should tell you something. If you know me at all, you know that I hate cats with all my being. Well, this cat KNOWS that I hate it. I'm telling you, she is after me. She is a white furball roaming around, looking at me with her freakishly beady eyes, always ready to pounce on me or draw blood from my limbs. She can be semi-cute sometimes when she lets you hold her, but most of the time, she acts possessed. Since Jess left for Arequipa for a week, Cat has started to confuse me with her owner. Please come back soon, Jessica.

*Now onto the BIG THING. Everyone interested in making fun of me/Peru, READ THIS (ie, all my Athens friends...) I saw llamas for the first time today. It's only taken me over two weeks. I was in a taxi and happened to look to my right and saw a park, where two llamas were roaming around. I didn't have my camera, and there was a a fence separating me from this glorious sight. All hope was restored in this moment, and I can die happy now: Sun and llamas in one day.

Last funny thing, and then I'll leave the blog-world for another 10 days or so. First of all, happy halloween from Peru. Let me explain Peruvian halloween, as I know it at this moment. I've heard that Halloween falls on the same day that Peru celebrates its criollo music. So, most Peruvians, if they choose to celebrate something, are going to celebrate this day in their culture. Well, Sandi and I forgot to buy candy so tonight as we are watching a movie, we suddenly hear cries of "Halloween! Halloween! Halloween!" Apparently some kids do celebrate halloween, and we ended up having to hide from them, which made me sad because I would have loved to have seen some costumes. This year we embraced the ABBA fad that is currently taking over in this country and attempted to be ABBA-esque (it failed). Maybe I'll start working on my llama costume for next year...

The longest entry ever...get ready.

2008-10-20T12:32:00.003-04:00

So, I've made it to Peru. I'm in Lima until the 28th of October, when I will be shipped with all 30 bags (more on that later) to Arequipa. I've been so blessed to be surrounded by such welcoming people. My teammates on REAPSouth are amazing, and I feel so loved. Praise God for that, and for His Body.

Here, in no particular order, are random updates, first impressions, fun stories, and whatever else I can think of that might be of some importance...

I left Atlanta on a night with perhaps one of the best sunsets ever. As the plane was taking off, I could see the clouds and the sun rays starting to mix together. We soared through clouds and were eventually suspended above all of them. I got to see the sunset from a different perspective, and it was magnificent. After having left my parents at the gate (yes, they got to go to the gate with me), I started to get emotional, but the Lord comforted me with His natural beauty in the clouds, the colors, and the knowledge that I am following Him.

The plane ride was uneventful. It lasted a lot longer than I thought, but I made it without any bumps or bruises. I think the funniest thing must have been what others saw when I was hauling my luggage through the Lima airport. Here's the deal: I had to repack a lot of stuff at the Atlanta airport so that I would not have to pay 300 dollars; instead, I only ended up paying 200. I, however, did not want to carry as much with me as I ended up taking. I had 3 massive suitcases, a HUGE backpack, a little backpack, and my purse. Oh yes, I looked amazingly touristy. Trying to get all the luggage from baggage claim to the area where they kept the baggage carts was interesting.

I was greeted by my whole team, which was such a blessing. It's been a privilege to hang out with the Weavers, the Austins, the Stones, Kristen, Melissa, Kathryn, Austen, Jessica, Sandi, and Steve. I've loved being with them. Because it was difficult the first day or so (I cried a lot the first day I was here), I don't know what I would have done without them; the Lord has blessed me indeed.

First impressions on Lima: Gray and icky. Honestly, sort of depressing. However, after having been here almost a week and feeling like I am getting a bit more acclimated, I think the city is starting to grow on me. I haven't seen too much of it, and I have no clue where I am most of the time, but when the sun comes out and it warms up a little, it's kind of nice. The longer I stay here, the harder it will be for me to leave. I am looking forward to getting to Arequipa and being able to unpack and settle into a place. From what I hear, Arequipa and I are going to be great together: sun, color, and beautiful places.

Today was the first day I actually did something on my own: I got myself from the Missions office on La Florida to the apartment I'm currently staying in. This might sound like a small thing, but it wasn't for me, for various reasons: 1. I'm still trying to get in the groove of speaking in spanish and remembering so much that I've lost over the years. 2. Like I said, I have no idea where anything is or what anything is called. 3. The driving here is insane, and if you get a taxi driver who doesn't know where he is, that can't be good. Praise the Lord I got a good one who knew where he was going and I was able to tell him where to go (only because Kristen wrote all of it down for me).

Other observations:

-Starbucks is pretty good here. I can't wait to find some local coffeeshops, though.

-I've been going to the English classes that REAP does and they are so fun and the people who come are wonderful.

-The first songs I heard in Lima were "Bad Education," "I think I'm turning Japanese," and U2's wonderful anthem "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For." Wow.

-Milk here is not too bad. It's definitely not the same, but it's not awful.

-People love their money. Merchants are really particular about how the money looks, and if they don't have change, they might not sell you something. Or if they don't like you, they might not sell you something.

-There are some expensive places to live in Lima...I mean, NICE places.

-I went to an AMAZING church on Sunday called Arco de Noe....it was outside of Lima, but the people there were so wonderful. I also was able to see a very different side of Lima than the nicer district we're in, which is called Miraflores.

-The food here is not agreeing with my stomach. Make your own conclusions.

-There are a fair amount of American things...we ate at Chili's tonight, and it was actually better than Chili's at home; KFC was also pretty decent (this does not necessarily mean that my tummy is happy).

-I have seen more beautiful golden retrievers here than at home. :)

-Shopping is so different, por varias razones.

-Someone actually told me that something about my face didn't look American. This absolutely made my day. Then I said my dad was Spanish, they said "ohh...yes."

-I have to wear earplugs when I sleep. Y'all know about me and quiet at night....well, imagine sirens and horns and traffic and people. It's tons of fun.

I think that's about it for now. As if you needed anymore. I told you it would be long. I have been on the go a lot, so when it's time to sleep, I crash. I've tried to write stuff down to tell everyone (if you know me at all, you know about my recent memory problems :)....

A Dios le bendiga. Praise God for life, wherever it finds me.

Check out Prov. 16:1-5, 9 and Col. 1:21-23.

One day to go.

2008-10-15T11:13:00.003-04:00

I've been home from Richmond now for almost two weeks. I leave for Peru tomorrow. My head is in Peru, my body in Georgia, and my heart torn between family and friends who are now scattered throughout the world. I can't wait for some stability as I get settled in my new home.

Being at home has been a bit strange. It's continued this feeling of transition. Praise the Lord, though, for good times spent with family. It is a blessing to have such a family as I have. My friends have also been wonderful during this time--I've felt so loved. My heart is truly full because of the love of Christ that I've seen and felt in the people who surround me. So to all of you, thank you so very much.

I don't have words to describe what I'm feeling right now. As I sit here trying somehow to avoid finish packing, I keep remembering how this is one moment in time in which the Lord has been preparing me for 22 years. More moments in time will come just like this one, all involving change. Just because I might feel a little nervous about this change, I trust that He has given me everything I need to accomplish the task. And here is the task: To be with Him every day and to make Him known among people who don't know the Truth. I am expecting that God is going to do great things. He will keep me in the palm of His hand.

Better late than never.

2008-10-06T01:02:00.003-04:00

I have been meaning to write again since before time in Virginia ceased to be. Alas, this obviously didn't happen. Instead, time was spent mostly with friends. Potential precious moments accumulated more quickly as time passed increasingly fast. I can only say to friends left behind, about to be scattered: Thank you so very much for blessing my life. Each of you made the last two months wonderfully beautiful. The love of Christ is exemplified in His Church, and my heart is full resting in the knowledge that our love for one another was and is so glorifying to God. I miss you all very much and anticipate when I get to see everyone again.

As I sit here listening to "Soundtracks of Li(ves)" that various folks gave me, I am reminded of how humbled and awed I am at being able to claim such friendships that span the globe. The most magnificent thing is that we are all working for a common purpose, and our bond is in Christ Himself. We are suspended together in time that was spent in sweet communion with one another and with the Lord Himself.

Something God has taught me recently: I cannot live by "what ifs." I can't worry about future "what ifs," and I must live in the present. I must be vulnerable to this moment and praise God for where I'm at NOW, and for what He's preparing me to do in ministry in the coming years.

The theme of leaving is still prevalent in life. My heart aches for those I leave behind, yet I am thrilled to be moving on. People ask me "Am I excited????" I never know what to say, except this: I am excited to know that I am doing what God has called me to do for this season in life. It isn't a jump-off-the-wall-excitement per-say, because I'm not necessarily excited about the hardships I am about to face; however, I go into this season with great expectation that God will move mountains. I know that He is going before me, behind me, and that He will be beside me as I leave the States to make a new home in Peru.

Here is something from Don Miller's Through Painted Deserts. I copied it in my journal a few months ago because I knew it would continue to speak to me through these months as I prepare to move my life to South America. Praise God that He is allowing me to leave to follow Him. After all, it isn't my life anyway....I go where He goes.

"I could not have known that everybody, every person, has to leave, has to change like seasons....Everybody has to leave, everybody has to leave their home and come back so they can love it again for all new reasons....It might be time to change, to shine out....I want to repeat one word for you: Leave....Don't worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed."

Then the Lord told me this:

Just go. I am with you every second of every day. Leave in search of more of me. You will find me, because I'm everywhere. It's that simple. But believe, and put one foot in front of the other in faith that I go before and come behind. This life is about me after all. I just take you along for the ride.

I'm still alive.

2008-09-24T19:57:00.003-04:00

Here is something I wrote in my journal, dated April 5, 2008. I thought I'd share it with y'all. If I remember correctly, it was inspired after reading some in Isaiah and some in Jeremiah, two of my favorite books.

My heart knows only joy

From the One who conquers love.

Praise Him.

His love enfolds me, covers me.

The peace He brings, the love

He offers coats my lungs,

fills my veins,

and pours out of my fingertips.

That He would bring me only

deeper into True love, True joy, and True peace.

late nights, bullets, revelations, and other great things.

2008-09-14T00:09:00.002-04:00

Hello again. I am up late again, as usual. My night owl tendencies have evolved from 11 pm to sometimes 2 or 3 am. It's been rough. It's not that I'm not tired; in fact, I'm usually pretty exhausted. I lay down to sleep and sleep won't come. It's so frustrating to lie in bed, bone-tired, and not be able to sleep. So, I get up and read or listen to music or sit at the computer. Basically, I'm really tired. I slept well the other day for the first time in a long time, and I think it was because we had security training.

I can't tell you too much about it, but it is very intense. I slept well these past few nights because it is so draining, emotionally and mentally. I ache at the end of every day even though I've been sitting for hours. It is stressful hearing what might happen, and it is a lot of information to take in on how to handle various situations. Let's just say that the company did very well at creating mock interrogation sessions, as well as "takedowns," real bullets and all. Everything was pretty realistic, ie, I was scared out of my mind when my name got called to go to the "playroom," as they so lovingly called it. The good news is that I made it out alive, and my session wasn't even a real interrogation. In all of this, I was certainly taken to the throne of God so much. God gave me John 15, as He has done many times in the past: I must simply abide in Him.

My time here is beginning to wrap up, and I hate it. I am happy to go, and I'm so ready, but I'm finally getting into a groove here. Isn't that how life is? You get "comfortable," and then God removes you from that situation as fast as you got there. This has been a great experience, and I am so blessed to have made friends and memories here. Even throughout the stressful week, I was able to hang out and de-stress with some friends. Last night and tonight have been so fun and refreshing. I can truly say that I've made some lifelong friends here and can't wait to see what God has in store for them. While I will be sad to leave them, I know that God's purposes for all of us involves scattering us around the world; the beautiful thing is that we are all bonded by a common purpose of the Gospel and it's going forth.

So yeah. That's all for now. I can't wait to see Athens friends. My family is anxiously awaiting my return, and I am so excited to see them, too. I miss everyone, but I miss my mommy the most. It is certainly true that home is wherever the people are who love you the most.

Here's to sweet dreams and the promise of rest. Peace out. :)

here's to learning how to live.

2008-09-07T01:39:00.003-04:00

here's to

waking up to the rain. early morning coffee, caramel and vanilla and cinnamon swirling together. good talks. old memories and new memories.

here's to

splashing in puddles. laughing until your stomach hurts. healthy ambition and making plans. dancing.

here's to

cheesy movies. the sun poking through the clouds. emergence into nature. flying kites.

here's to

family, even when my blood isn't near me. loving on children, little hands holding mine. surprises. new music.

here's to

invitations to party. being a kid again, singing and twirling. reading someone's mind and knowing they can read yours. late nights.

here's to

games that make no sense. peanut butter and ritz crackers at 1 am. coming home to community. journaling.

here's to

hysterically awkward situations. cuddling. disney songs at the top of my lungs. the promise of changing leaves, coolness in the air.

here's to people, to love, to time alone, to reflection, to answered prayer. to the song that He gives me when we're alone.

it's best to write at night, i find that honesty comes quicker. would that God give me a mindset so transparent that Truth flows from within to all i encounter. that streams of living water would flow from within me, that He would speak, not me.

what a blessed day. to God, may i always say "i am Yours, may you accomplish in me Your work and purpose." i'm about to jump, will you let me go? the adventure i seek is Him, there is nothing more exciting than following Jesus. you should go too.

much love and rest.

Coffee shop musings.

2008-08-31T15:26:00.003-04:00

Coffee shops get in my bones. This probably does not make sense to some people, but it makes perfect sense to me. Here are my thoughts:

Local coffee shops are best. I remember a fondness for European shops, but it's been six years since I've graced the cobbled steps of Old Madrid and Barcelona. As for the Stateside establishments, I'm all for Starbucks and their overpriced coffee simply because it tastes decent and it's convenient, but there's something about discovering a smaller business that only the locals know about. It's exciting to me, the idea that one can make friends with the people who come to a coffee shop on a daily basis for the same reasons. Community in this particular environment is essential; I love being enveloped by the low-din of strangers whispering their conversations, and I love the soft music that plays, followed by the jingle of the change being dropped in the drawer, or the blender whirring to process something cold and icy. These musings make me miss my college hot-spots, as well as the two a.m. excursions to taste churros y chocolate in the cafes in Spain, but I'm thrilled to explore Arequipa in a couple months and encounter all it has to offer in the way of my favorite beverage and hang-out locales. Until then, I will endeavor to enjoy the time I have in America as I scope out the locals' go-to places.

Much love and coffee....

Random.

2008-08-28T23:04:00.003-04:00

I am not very introspective this evening. Thus, this is just a quick update.

Here's a praise: I didn't do my Visa stuff right, but God is good, and He is letting me get in country through a travel Visa. That means that I will start my missionary/resident Visa paperwork once I get there.

The Lord is showing me so much during this time. He is moving in incredible ways, and today was such a privilege in that we got to hear from Him through a man named K., who specializes in the Persecuted Church. "Uncle K" brought the word, his testimony, and the testimonies of others who have suffered for the cause of Christ. This session was by far the most interesting and educational session I've been to at FPO. I don't know what awaits me in Peru, but I know that the Lord is using all kinds of things to get the attention of non-believers around the world, and my prayer is that I am joining Him in what is going to become a massive Church-planting movement in South America.

That's really all I've got for now. Shot day is tomorrow. I hate shots, p.s. People keep telling me, "Oh they're really not that bad, they don't hurt too much." These are lies. They do hurt that much. I know I'm kind of wimpy, but don't tell me shots are pleasant.

I will try to come up with some more things to write about for the next time, for all you poor souls who read my less-than-fantastic musings. Perhaps next time the topics will include the oh-so-interesting thing that is the dining hall here. Let's just say I don't get enough protein because the meat is sketchy. Tonight I had apple jacks and a banana for dinner.

from my journal.

2008-08-21T22:09:00.002-04:00

the stars glow in the night sky like christmas lights tonight. the goodness of the Lord, His beauty, His never-ending majesty, is reflected in these lights that speak of glory. it all overwhelms me.

i'm listening to "a little more" by shawn mcdonald. so good. he says "it's time to confess that i need a little more Jesus inside of me." this is my prayer.

some scripture i stumbled upon yesterday: isaiah 58:11 reads like this....

the lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your soul in drought, and strengthen your bones; you shall be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.

even when i feel so low, i can come to the Father and He will pick me up. when i am so tired of this world, i have only to 'fix my eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of my faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning it's shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. consider Him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that i will not grow weary and lose heart" (heb. 12: 2-3).

sometimes, i do fear failure. the Lord commands me not to fear. so i press on, supressing this earthly tendency to worry and fear things. faith sustains me. not just in a shallow, intellectual way. the head is good for logic and knowledge, but the heart--the heart is where i must go for the Way. when i am tired, i just go home to my heart. it is in the secret crevices of my own soul that i find rest, because i find Jesus. even now, as i breathe in and out, as i feel my heart beating in my chest, i understand how much better He is--after all, i exist because of Him. there is nothing good in me apart from Christ. the fountains of water that stream up and out of my body speak to His love and mercy. he loves so much better than i ever could on my own. so i simply go to Him for sustenance, for cleansing. every day i am washed by the waters (see john 7:38).

Life here.

2008-08-17T22:37:00.002-04:00

Hey friends. It's that time again: Profound thoughts from Sarah. Ha.

Seriously, I am glad to be able to share this time with you. Please, please, please keep me posted on your lives. I absolutely need to know what is going on with y'all. My heart is torn between people I love at home and new friends here. It's strange trying to balance the past and the present, new friends, and old. I mean, I barely have time to talk to my parents, if that says anything.

I thought I would give a bit more insight into what this time in my life is looking like. Two weeks have passed, and I am thoroughly overwhelmed. The Lord is good, though, and is teaching me so much about enjoying this time while also seeking after Him. Some friends and I went to Starbucks tonight and did one of my favorite things in the world: Sharing life over a good cup of overpriced coffee. We started discussing how the Lord is moving during this time. Perhaps the most profound statement that has been said that we reflected on is that God doesn't call us to safety, success, or anything like that; He calls us first and foremost to Himself. How wonderful that the Father says "Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters...."

Yesterday was a good time of rest. I was able to do some productive things as well as hang out with friends. The ESL class that I was supposed to take was cancelled, so I got to do some reading, praying, and fellowshipping. The same happened today. How amazing that I am part of such community that really stresses Body Life. Our house church this morning was great, as was the cultural worship we had tonight. I got to take off my shoes for an hour-and-a-half and listen to a bunch of languages I had never heard. Glory to God that he understood what I was singing to Him in an Asian language, even though I had no idea what I was saying.

I have met some pretty awesome folks here. The Lord has answered prayer in knitting hearts together, even for such a short time. I told Mitch and Jeshica how cool it is that we have this bond. I know that the next time I see these people, we can just pick up where we left off. We've had a blast playing volleyball, going for walks, "jammin,'" and going to The Cheesecake Factory (!). Man, I love that place. The Journeyman also got to go to Elbert's house the other night for a "mixer" of sorts. Here's a fun fact: There are 77 girls here, and about 20 guys. That's right. So, someone decides to cram us into a pretty small living room to get to "know" each other. I say that in quotations because their idea of "knowing" one another seems increasingly sneaky. Let's just say that the pressure is on to eventually reproduce some MK's who will learn their respective language in a far off country and continue impacting the Kingdom. Praise the Lord if that happens. All I know is that right now, as much as "2+ring" or "career+ring" sound great, there is one thing that I need, and one thing that I desire more than ever, and His name is Jesus.

To end on a less serious note: I am so happy that I don't have to start school tomorrow. So to all of you UGA folks reading this, I'm so sorry, but I do not envy you right now. Much love, and good luck on your first day of class. I get to learn about Church Planting Movements tomorrow. Yay!

2008-08-11T22:58:00.002-04:00

Okay. I've recently noticed that my postings on the blog have been quite serious and introspective, save for my witty comment about the poop-on-the-loop in the Athens post. Therefore, as I was sitting in session today and deeply taking in the teaching of Jerry Rankin, my mind started to wander to funnier aspects of my time thus far at "The Farm." Here we go.

1. Waking up.

I am not a morning person. I found this out freshman year of college when I signed up for a bunch of 8 ams, not understanding that the late night outings to Walmart and Taco Bell were going to quickly hinder my productivity, as well as my ability to pull myself out of the bed every morning. Throughout college, as I realized that I would never go to class before 10, I grew to love sleep. My good friends know all about the difficulties entailed in trying to wake me up; they also have a fond love for my earplugs, my pumpkin shirt, and my oh-so-pleasant demeanor as I wake up from a nap.

Here's the kicker: I am not going to sleep during these 2 months in Virginia. This realization came as I set my alarm for 6:30 this morning and didn't manage to get out of the bed until five til 7. Needless to say, I didn't get everything done today that I needed to do. I did take a nap, and then Susan yelled at me for being grumpy afterwards. I still have a ton to do, and now I'm blogging. Great.

2. Allergies.

I'm allergic to the state of Virginia. It's true. I have never really had huge problems with allergies, but ever since moving here, my eyes and nose hate me. I sneeze about three dozen times from when I wake up (the crack of dawn) to when I sit down for the first session. My eyes are watering so much that people must think I am crying all the time. Basically, I'm in a pickle because I don't want to admit that I have allergies, and I don't feel like going to buy medication for this "non-existent" ailment of mine. Alas, I'm going to have to face Virginia head on. I refuse to go down without a fight.

3. Kids

So, I love kids. Being here is such a blessing because there are so many great families with cute kids around. Tonight, however, was the first night I actually got to play with them. Why, you ask? Let me tell you: The powers that be have put the fear of God into us when it comes to hangin' wit the chillun. Because there are so many problems with sexual abuse, we have to be really careful about how we conduct ourselves around children. Listen folks, I understand, I really do. Let me just say this: I am not a sexual predator. I just want to love on the kids, I promise. If you need a background check before I give your child a hug, I will gladly consent.

4. Love is in the air

The myth is true, folks. Journeyman love starts at the ILC. I've heard the stories, but had never seen it in action until now. People fall fast. God is working quickly. As Danielle says, the Lord has only 8 weeks to prepare hearts before they leave one another for 2 years. I've been privy to some budding relationships, so we'll see what happens. Don't drink the water.

It's time.

2008-08-10T14:02:00.002-04:00

I've been meaning to blog for three or four days now. I get distracted easily now, however, what with people here hanging out and lots of reading to do. Thus, I have not had the time to just sit and be. I'm thankful for the newest thought that has been introduced to me: Redeeming the time. In other words, I must make the most of the time that the Lord has given me, in everything I do. This is applicable to life in the present moment, as well as to life on the field in Peru when I am surrounded by a waiting harvest.

I've been at FPO (orientation) now for almost a week. The Lord has challenged me, blessed me, taught me, and loved on me during this week. It's strange to think that I only have seven more weeks to go. We are kicking things into high gear this week, with an emphasis on personal goals and spiritual warfare.

It is so refreshing to be able to be with folks who have a like mind-set. Whether I meet everyone at training or not, I already feel so full of love that I am in the midst of His wonderful Saints here on earth. I am reminded of 1 John: I am able to love because He loves me first. Amen. The other day, we were given the opportunity to share with everyone what the Lord had taught us as individuals, and I was floored by the words said, encouragement and truth read, and honesty and transparency flowing through everyone. I think my eyes have seen and my heart is beginning to realize that as "called out missionaries," we are not perfect people. We all still struggle with things. The good news is that Jesus allows us to be more than conquerors. He is faithful, and He will do it.

One more thing to share that has profoundly affected me: The reminder that the throne of God will (and already has) people from every tribe, tongue and nation worshipping around it. One morning in a session, a lady came and led us in a song in Mandarin; another lady read the Word in a Southeast Asian dialect, and a man prayed in an African heart language. It was so very powerful. As has been the case with me these past weeks, I just wept. It is so beautiful to think that my great God has and will continue to make His name known throughout all the earth. Once again, with or without us, our Lord is faithful, and He will do it.

Athens: Home of the Dawgs, REM, Hodgson's.....and my best friends in the whole world.

2008-08-03T17:51:00.002-04:00

So I might be making a big assumption in thinking that people will read this, but to all my Athens-folk: This is for you. This is my tribute to the Classic City, Athens, GA.

As I left Athens officially today, I rode out of town with a plethora of memories, adventures, and faces in my rearview mirror. It is a very interesting thing, leaving the place that has had such an impact in shaping who I have become. I said "see you soon" to some friends, which is hard enough in itself. Perhaps harder is thinking that I won't be around town come football season, when the streets become seas of red and black, and everyone is linked by the perceived divine knowledge that we all hail from Bulldog Nation. I won't be around for the first crimson leaves to fall, nor will I shiver on cold mornings, only to later peel off layers in the heat of the Indian summer afternoon. I won't be around when Downtown is covered in lights at Christmas, and I'll miss sitting outside Starbucks on cool Spring mornings, in anticipation of the arrival of blooms (and the not-so-fun pollen). Clocked will miss my business, and the trees on North Campus will miss me climbing them. :)

There are so many good things about Athens. The people, the places, the streets, the sounds, and the smells (even "poop-on-the-loop") have so defined the last four years of my life. It has truly become my home here on earth. Here's the thing. As difficult as it is to say goodbye to this earthly home, I have a place that is being prepared for my arrival, and I am so excited. God is preparing hearts and minds in Peru, and He is going to create a new place there for me, filled with opportunities to make new memories.

So to all my friends in Athens, I just want to say I love you. I love the city, but I love you even more. Thanks for your prayers, your love, your encouragement, your tears, your laughter, your adventurous spirits, your craziness, your joy, and so many other things. We have some good stories; I can't wait to hear about new stories while I'm away.

One day, sometime in the future, I'll walk the sidewalks of Downtown Athens and venture under the Arch again. And I'll be once more in my old stomping grounds, in MY town, where God blessed me with fun times and beautiful friendships.

One more thing: Go Dawgs! Sic em'!