You know how your voice sounds differently in your head than it does to others? It’s like you’re thinking “hey, I sound pretty good. I have a normal voice, everything’s fine, life is good” when suddenly somehow, you end up hearing yourself on some sort of recording. It may be a message, a videotape, a voicemail. Somehow, you hear your real voice and all you can think is “oh gosh. I sound like my mother. Why did no one tell me I sounded like my mother?”

I kid, I kid (I sound more like my sister). But really, especially the first time you hear your voice from not inside your head, it’s a very jarring thing. You sort of are startled. At first you think it’s the recording. “This thing must record at slower speeds. That has to be why I sound like a man”. Then you excuse it by saying that isn’t how you normally sound (I had a cold! 3 weeks ago! That has to be it!). Soon you just adjust to the fact…sort of cringing if you have to hear your voice and avowing to never speak in public again. Strictly sign language, world!

But tonight I was reminded of another part of me that often comes up, and is much more deeply jarring than my voice. You see, every couple of months some sort of event/conflict/problem arises, always with the same aggravating factor–my style of communication. It’s rarely the instigating factor, and I am rarely completely in the wrong, but it is always my communication problems that lead these (most commonly minor) issues to become major issues. I’m far too aggressive. I don’t mean to be, and believe me my intention is not to hurt anyone, or to win, or anything. It just…happens. I could explain it, but that’s not the point of this blog.

The point is this: whenever another friend comes to me with “Sarah…I feel like we need to talk about this”, my heart just sinks. I know exactly what they’re going to say, but it still hurts. It hurts that I can’t get past this. It hurts that I can’t seem to stop. It hurts that I hurt the people I love completely unintentionally. And it hurts because I think no one in their right mind would put up with this over a long period of time.

It’s not hard for me to see my depravity on days like this. It’s harder to believe that I am loved in spite of this. For me, I should have changed by now. I feel like this issue should be conquered. But it’s not, and I don’t know if it’ll ever be. And when it gets like this it gets harder to remember and accept the truth of God’s love.

I was almost crying today in the car (before this jarring news) when I was thinking about the love of God. Tim Keller says “the one who sees you to the depths loves you to the skies”. Perfect love casts out all fear, I was telling myself, and the only one who loves me perfectly is God, because he is the only one who can know me perfectly. God knows my communication issues. He knows the heart issues that don’t come out as often. And they aren’t jarring or scary to Him. He sees them, and He loves me in spite of them. That truth I was telling myself earlier today I needed tonight.
Thanks God, for reminding me of it.
I’m off to go work on some communication issues.

Psalm 27:13-14
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.

I love these verses–I am confident that I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. What beautifully strong words David wrote.

But what I love most about them is they remind me that I have seen the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. In my life I can see that He has given me everything I need and more. He has satisfied all of my needs, and healed all of my hurts, and ultimately redeemed my life from the pit. He has been far more than merciful to me–he has been abundantly gracious.

When I look at my life and see my sin I wonder at how I can be loved, how a God so tremendously holy can condescend to show me His goodness. And then I’m reminded that God’s goodness isn’t dependent on my goodness, and His faithfulness transcends my unfaithfulness. He loves me, not because of the righteous things I have done, but because of His mercy.

Such a good God. A God like that is worthy of my whole life’s worship. And if He has been this gracious to me already, I can have the same confidence of David and say that He will continue to show me His goodness. Amen and amen!

This junk is amazing. You really should make it. I’ve made it twice and it’s been a big hit both times.

The reason why I bring it up is because a close friend is getting married. I’m telling her some of my favorite recipes and that one came up. I then proceeded to tell her about these orange dark chocolate chip muffins/lemon white chocolate chip muffins I’ve made this past year. So delicious.

It made me excited for her and her impending nuptials, as well as another friend who is getting engaged sometime next semester. They’re both preparing to nest and settle down with these men, and cook them food all the time.

It’s been a challenge for me to support them and love on them when I want to be where they are. I think it gives a new meaning for me to “do not covet” (though I don’t wish I had either of their men, as great as they are). It’s been good to see God’s work in me in this area. I think it will be a long time before I get to serve any garlic cheddar chicken, however. And I think right now I’m ok with that. I’m willing myself to be ok with that at least.

If you’re married or planning on being married, grab that recipe and use it. And if you aren’t? Find some friends and make it still. Time’s a-wasting and that garlic cheddar chicken is too good.

-Sarah

“May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you a spirit of unity among yourselves as you follow Christ Jesus, so that with one heart and mouth you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Romans 12:5-6

One more week. One more week and it’ll all be over, my sophomore-junior year of college. Next year I’ll come back and during this time I’ll be preparing for graduation, 3 short years after I entered. And boy is it terrifying.

This Sunday my pastor preached from the book of James, and he was talking about futures plans and such. I didn’t go to church, because I had to pack, but I was listening to the service online, when in the middle of the sermon it cut out. I was rather irritated because I was so looking forward to hearing it, but I’m going to listen to the rest of it tonight.

Anyway, the point is that I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I know that I want to be married, and I know that I want to have kids. I know I want to do youth ministry at some point. I know I want to write at some point. I know I want to minister overseas at some point. I know I want to write curriculum at some point. I think I want to be a professor. I think I want to write books on systematic theology for teenagers. I think I want to write books on how to be a girl who embraces her femininity yet desires deeply to use the gifts God has given her. I want to disciple teenagers and see them grow into full faith.

But there are so many things I have no idea about. Where will I do these things? How? Will I have anyone to do them with? How many of these things will I end up doing? I don’t know.

The sovereign God knows, though. As I am packing up with my summer planned out, He has my whole life planned out. He DELIGHTS I think, in showing me His will in His timing. He delights in allowing me to squirm, knowing that it makes me trust Him more. As I clean out my room, He knows that next year as I’m packing up He’ll have exactly something He wants me to do. He is in control of this.

I don’t have to stress out about my future. I don’t have to freak out about a man. I don’t have to wonder if this tall, dark, and handsome boy I like will ever like me back. I don’t have to stress about events I’m planning next year. I can rather TRUST that God knows what He’s doing. I can REST.

What a glorious hope, what a great Savior!
-Sarah

Isaiah 45:9-13:

“What sorrow awaits those who argue with their Creator.
Does a clay pot argue with its maker?
Does the clay dispute with the one who shapes it, saying,
‘Stop, you’re doing it wrong!’
Does the pot exclaim,
‘How clumsy can you be?’
How terrible it would be if a newborn baby said to its father,
‘Why was I born?’
or if it said to its mother,
‘Why did you make me this way?’” This is what the Lord says—
the Holy One of Israel and your Creator:
“Do you question what I do for my children?
Do you give me orders about the work of my hands?
I am the one who made the earth
and created people to live on it.
With my hands I stretched out the heavens.
All the stars are at my command.”

I have this pair of Rainbows (flip-flops) that I’ve had for about 2 years. They’ve served me very well, and are definitely worth the 50 dollars I spent on them, but they’re wearing out now. 2 summers at camp will do it to you. And at one point on my right big toe, they’re about 3 weeks away from wearing completely through to where my toe hits the ground and I can’t wear them anymore. They’re close to being done.

My heart is in the same state. I am about a day away from checking out…from being done with everything. I’m not sure I can last any longer. I know that of course, that means it’s all still a long way off. I know that somehow I have to be all content and perfectly happy with my life before anything happens, but at this point I can’t be there. I have been there and nothing has happened. I’m done. My heart is simply too worn down.

I’m afraid that like my rainbows I’ll soon wear out…and I don’t think I can take it.

“Who holds your “someday?” Are you still attempting to change things that are beyond your power and out of your control? Have you simply given up; and in your disappointment resigned to play mental dream games to keep yourself going? Look up! Your Father controls it all and he looks on you with grace and favor. It’s never ever risky to place your past, present, and future in his hands. His “someday” isn’t a “someday” at all, no, it’s a “will be.”

I love that quote. It’s a beautiful one. And I feel like it’s the truth I need to remind myself of today.

Some days are harder than others. Today was hell. Not because there has been one terrible moment where I wanted to bawl, but because it was a constant, dull ache eating away at me. It was in my face, from seeing boys I’ve liked in the past, to hearing about new couples being formed, to talking about marriage in Theology to having my professor ask me if I date to hearing about a friend’s pregnancy. Those are all great things (well, most of them), and I am happy for all those who are happy. But it does make it harder on days like this.

Days like this I find it impossible to hope. I find it impossible to believe friends who tell me I’m a catch and that some guy will be very lucky someday. All I want to do is just curl up and cry, cry all the tears about the boys who have never wanted me. It’s days like this that all I want is for a boy to tell me that he finds me lovely, to tell me that he really wants to date me, and tell me he doesn’t mind my quirks. It’s days like these that all I want to do is hide from the world and hide from God and the cruel games my mind tells me he’s playing with me.

It’s days like these that I find it hard to believe I’m worth anything, I forget the gospel, and I take my gaze off of the cross and turn it onto me. People may say nice things, they may encourage me, but I can’t believe it. I don’t believe it. And sometimes it even makes it harder. I love the encouragement of friends, but when all these girls are telling me that I’m such a catch it just stings. If it were true, there would be a boy trying to catch me, at least at some point in my life. But you say that I’m a catch and obviously the men disagree. All I believe is what that dull aching feeling says. I believe that there isn’t someone out there for me, that I’ll never be able to plan a wedding, and the idea of being 40 and not married terrifies me.

I was asked today by that same professor if it’s hard, not ever having been asked out. I said “some days”. Today was one of those days.

I don’t really know what gets me through days like this. I don’t know why I face them. Perhaps it’s just habit. Either way my prayer is always that they’d go away. That I’d experience enough grace in the day to make it through. And then that hopefully the next day the truth of the gospel will rush in like a flood and remind me of truth. “For I am poor and needy” is my constant prayer on these days.

I feel like I’m going to throw up. I need to be reminded Who holds my someday.

I have a fish. Well, my roommate and I have a fish, but I’m the one who feeds him, changes his water, and talks to him. He is also on my side of the room. Thus, he is more my fish than hers. His name is Calvin, after John Calvin (Reason being, he chose us, we didn’t choose him).

The story of how Calvin came to be in our dorm room is fun. We decided to buy a fish, and so we went to the pet section of Wal-Mart. And they had this shelf crammed full of beta fishes. My roommate wanted to get this one big beta who matched our room decor. He was pretty, sure, but my eye was immediately drawn to a little beta in the corner. He was a lot smaller than all the other fish, but he was happy. He swam around in his little cup like he was frantic to get out. It was like those puppies you read about that just jump up and down in front of all the other puppies. My heart just WANTED him.

And so we got him. Even as I’m writing this he’s doing something spastic. I think he’s hitting the rocks at the bottom of his bowl and then bouncing up to the top. It’s a curious game he plays. But it is certainly entertaining.

I think Calvin reminds me of me. There are probably plenty of people who don’t want a spastic fish who hits the sides of his glass bowl. They want a normal fish. I bet also that Calvin probably wished at times when he was at Wal-Mart that he was as big as the other betas, and he was nice and docile. But he just HAD to express how excited he was.

Sometimes, in moments of doubt and worry, I wonder why I’m so exceedingly crazy. I ENJOY being so expressive and loud and altogether eccentric. But it is hard, because there are times when I think that I’ll never find myself a man with such an out-there personality. I’m obnoxious and brash and crazy even on my best days. I’m that person who talks too much too loudly with too much drama. And there are times when I just wish I was a gentle and quiet spirit–who didn’t talk with my hands or have to share my opinion on everything. I wish I didn’t talk even if no one was listening. I wish I didn’t get so excited about stupid things. I wish I was a docile fish–or in my language, a gentle and quiet spirit.

But then I look at Calvin. He really is a reminder of grace for me. He was probably pretty wild seeming to those who undoubtedly passed him by. There were prettier fish, more controlled fish, better behaved fish. But Calvin is just perfect for me. I’d be sad if he didn’t freak out when I fed him.

Somewhere out there is someone who would be bored with anything less than a little bit of crazy. And someday, just like Calvin and I, we will meet. And then, as if by fate (but really by the sovereign hand of God) we will get together. And another love will be made.

I can’t wait.

I write for our student-run newspaper for my school. I like it, but sometimes I have a hard time writing on the topic assigned to me. Not with this article. It is from my heart. And so, I wanted to share it with you…who probably cannot relate to it completely (you don’t have chapel 4 times a week), but perhaps can relate an eensy bit.

I love chapel. Really, I do. Being able to come together as a group and be encouraged and exhorted by speakers, to worship God together as a community, and to allow God to speak to us through the speakers is really a great privilege. I can think back to various chapel services in my two years here and pinpoint exact moments when God convicted me, showed me love, or really used a message to open my eyes to new truths, and I am sure that many of you can say the same. Chapel is a brief interlude in our days, a fleeting moment when we come together before the Lord in a wonderful gathering of souls—but issues arise when we think that chapels are the essence of our spiritual lives.

If we rely on chapel for time to worship and spend with God, for Him to speak to us with utter clarity, then we probably will do fine while at CIU. When we leave this wonderful place, however, we’ll soon find that our spiritual lives fall limp and lifeless. Chapel cannot sustain our spiritual lives. Church cannot sustain our spiritual lives. And though they are encouraging and I would dare say perhaps essential, they should not become the bulk of our spiritual journeys.

Life is lived in the mundane moments; in walks to classes and random meals, in fleeting conversations at the salad bar and research in the library. Life is lived in the brushing teeth, writing papers, doing dishes moments that dominate every single day. Your life won’t always have chapel. It won’t always have Christian friends. In fact, some of you will go places where it won’t even have church. Some of you will go where you and you alone are the church. What will happen then, when what you are used to relying on for spiritual food is gone? When all you have is the mundane moments?

My exhortation is two-fold. First, make sure that the friendships you are forming here are not merely friendships based on fun and shared experiences. Make sure that you are taking the time to spiritually pour into your friends. Tell them what God is teaching you, ask them what He is teaching them. Be intentional. Pray with one another. Share burdens with one another. Hurt. Cry. Laugh. Don’t waste this time of ready-made community and only use it for leisure, not growth. Friends that you can play with can be found anywhere. Friends that you can grow with are rare.

Second, don’t allow personal time with God to be put on a back burner. It is so easy to let school, work, relationships, and life in general take priority. But life will never be any less busy than it is right now, and if you don’t make “God and I time” a priority, it probably never will be. Take time and allow God to love on you, to speak to you, to convict you and encourage you. Learn about Him—not from the pages of a theology textbook but from spending time with Him. So many of us struggle with resting in the midst of our busy-ness and crammed schedules. Make time to get alone and rest with Him. Let Him show you what Sabbath rest really is.

These aren’t easy things. Believe me, I know. But they are life-giving things—grace-giving things. Go to chapel still. Take advantage of it being here for us, so easily and readily accessible. Allow God to speak to you through all of the speakers and songs and special days. Learn and grow. But don’t allow your spiritual life to be limited to between 10:50 and 11:45 every day. Let it ooze into all your seconds of all your minutes of all your days. Allow it to seep into the pores of conversations, allow it to direct what you do when you’re bored, allow it to slowly but surely transform your life. Be purposeful in forming friendships that will sharpen and be purposeful in taking time to spend with God. And when you do that, your mundane moments will begin to be changed. Your life will begin to be changed.

Don’t waste another day. Real life, life to be had in abundance, is waiting.