tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22817768834137069812024-03-05T13:37:35.482-05:00Smiling, Shining and Shrinking...all for JesusSarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.comBlogger166125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-74624181953167411442016-06-11T21:40:00.000-04:002016-06-11T21:40:12.983-04:00Being Swept AwayI'm a big fan of being completely swept away by ordinary life.<br />
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It started today at a nine year old's birthday party. I actually had never met the birthday boy, but his Mom has become a dear friend of mine over the last few months. I had been nervous about going, but decided to shove away my anxieties and seize the day. I bought myself a pretty new shirt (that I like so much I will wear again tomorrow!) and loaded the birthday boy's gift bag with lots of candy, since I had no idea what else he liked! When I arrived, I was happy to see that there were a very nice group of parents from our local elementary school all sitting around, nibbling on fruit and chips, and chatting under a cluster of trees on the edge of their lovely lawn. <br />
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The kids were happily engaged in bouncy house and trampoline activities, along with zip-lining (amazing fun!) and water games. And, a breeze came along that cooled my face, and that signaled me to look around and realize that I was comfortable. I felt peaceful, surrounded by people I didn't know extremely well, yet I knew their names, their kids names, and I knew that it was okay to be me.<br />
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And, once I felt that happen, I joined it. I chatted. I asked questions. I cheered kids on during the zip-lining, I talked in silly voices, told jokes, and had a really great time.<br />
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Even though I had been scared to go. <br />
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And just like that, life swept me away in a beautiful, simple, dance.<br />
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I came home, smiling, being proud of overcoming my social anxiety, yet exhausted from it as well.<br />
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So, I asked my husband for time to read. I'm about a decade behind the times, but I have borrowed <u>Eat. Pray. Love</u>. from our local library on my Kindle. I know some Christians would be horrified that I'm reading that book, but honestly, Elizabeth Gilbert is one of the most captivating writers I have read recently, and the book is has so many interesting characters, descriptions, and moments recorded in it, that even if I disagree with many (maybe even most?) of her spiritual thoughts, the story itself is delightful. Beyond that, I just adore reading about people who are different than I am. Isn't that part of the joy of reading itself? (Half-Joking-Disclaimer: This is not a push to read this book...just so I don't get blamed for anyone's spiritual demise!)<br />
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Anyways, so here I am, on my porch, with my pretty new porch chandelier swaying above me, and my Boston Fern Plant hanging proudly just beyond that, with a delightful read in my hands. The wind chimes are audibly dancing, and David is playing with the kids in the sand box in the front yard. One of our favorite neighbors walks by, and several neighbor kids pass by on bikes and scooters. It's so simple, yet so beautiful.<br />
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Nothing life-changing was happening. <br />
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Yet, I'm overtaken. By the ordinary. By the blessings that are hidden right in front of me. And I'm thankful.<br />
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I'm grateful for a day that I worked hard, played hard, overcame anxiety, and slowed down just to enjoy life.<br />
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I'm amazed by life's beauty. And the people that make my life so beautiful. In short, if you are reading this, I am humbled that you are taking the time to read the words bubbling out of my soul tonight. And, you, my friend and reader, are sharing in my little miracle of life today.<br />
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Hallelujah. And Amen.Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-3090927386431935332016-05-26T18:11:00.003-04:002016-05-26T18:11:49.842-04:00Just one Smile<span style="color: red; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Writing is hard when you are filled with deep dark emotions.</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Actually, writing is perhaps easiest at that point. It's the sharing of those writings that is incredible difficult. And, though I have been compiling a big list of things I want to say, I'm not ready to say them publicly. Yet. I'll get there. Because authenticity is one of the character traits I desire most in my own life, and in the lives of others. </span><br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">But, tonight, on a lighter note, I just wanted to share a little moment of happy I had.</span><br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Tonight, I was sitting in my newly rearranged house, in the little room that we now have entitled the study. This is the room that welcomes the guests into our house, and it is frequently used, and there are signs of that all around. One particular give away is the broken blind that is hanging on the front door. The top part of the blind is intact, but several little fingers and hands have tugged at the bottom and there is about a 15" gap which you can see through the window.</span><br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I was making myself busy preparing dinner, hopping back and forth between the computer in the study and the stove in the kitchen. Back and forth I would go, trying to multitask. One time, as I sat down to check something of dire importance on the computer (let's face it, it was a FB message about tonight's girl's night out plans!) I saw a cute little freckled face peering through the gap. It's the perfect height for her look in and observe what I was doing. She raised her eyebrows at me and grinned. </span><br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">And, it was then, that I smiled at her. As soon as the smile has formed on my lips, I felt the heaviness of the day begin to flee. I I had a message in my mind for that little girl that I wanted to convey with my smile. "I love you little girl. I want to hug you. I'm so glad you are mine. You are a blessing to me, and I'm so happy to be your mommy." I know that seems like a lot for a smile, but today was a dark day. A hard day. And, that smile was not only to give Lydia hope, but to stir some hope up in me too.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: yellow; color: red; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I'm thankful that during days when I cry so hard, I am unable to function, that God gives me rest.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: yellow; color: red; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I'm smiling because when I feel lonely and unloveable, God provides friends.</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: yellow;">I'm hopeful that even though I have lost my dad, I still get to be a mom</span>.</span><br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">So, I will keep on smiling. Especially at my kids.</span><br />
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<br />Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-27676506928369428802016-05-03T17:01:00.001-04:002016-05-03T17:01:06.556-04:00The Sting of RejectionWord on the street is "the letter is in the mail."<br />
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I interviewed my little heart out last Thursday for a job that I *thought* was destined to be mine. I waited a few days and I had heard nothing---so, I did what all the websites and job interview experts tell you to do. I made a follow up phone call.<br />
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In my cheeriest voice, I announced my name, my interview date, and the reason I was calling. "I was really interested in the job. Did you have any other questions for me, or have you already filled the position?"<br />
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There was a brief pause and a moment of awkwardness. And, then, she laid the truth all out there. "We have already filled the position. We sent you a letter in the mail."<br />
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So, I guess tomorrow, or maybe the next day I can be reminded of my failure too. <br />
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Okay, that last sentence sounded so dark, but I'm kind of feeling that way right now. The rejection stings right now. It really does. I am questioning what about me wasn't good enough for that position. I am tempted to call myself inadequate and undeserving. The word 'loser' has tossed itself around my mind a few times too. It's hard not to take a job rejection personally. <br />
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But, on the flip side, I'm actually really grateful as well. Interviewing is an incredibly vulnerable thing to do, and even though I struggle with fear, anxiety and 'putting myself out there,' I did it. I spent time focusing on my good qualities and how those attributes would benefit a work environment. I was brave. I focused on the future. I worked beyond my anxiety and insecurities, and I took steps towards a rewarding future for myself.<br />
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I really do think that some day I will make an awesome receptionist or customer service representative. Until then, I will keep being the best Jesus follower, wife, mom, daughter, writer, VBS director, babysitter, neighbor, friend, and person I can be. And, I'll try focusing on the positives until this fresh sting dies down a bit.<br />
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<br />Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-45830456561227129562016-04-26T10:56:00.003-04:002016-04-26T10:56:59.541-04:00MiraclesI know as a Christian I should not *need* to see God's miracles.<br />
But, life has been more on the "I could really use a miracle today.." side.<br />
Today, I felt like God heard my earnest prayers. My pleas. My heart aching. <br />
And he answered a very powerful prayer.<br />
And, this short post is just to give him glory for that.<br />
THANK YOU GOD FOR UNDERSTANDING OUR FRAGILE HEARTS.<br />
<br />Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-33621802871907557512016-04-24T17:05:00.001-04:002016-04-24T17:05:34.653-04:00WonderfulLast night, my husband and I went on perhaps one of the most extravagant dates we have ever been on. It was a benefit for cystic fibrosis. Everyone was dressed to the nines, my hair was done professionally, my dress was beautiful, and for the first part of the evening, I even wore heels. We stayed out until past midnight (I know! We are sooo crazy) We went with dear friends, friends that we consider family. We had our pictures done, and there also was a photo booth just for silly laughs. We even bid (and won!) in a silent auction! It was so fancy. We loved it. <br />
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This morning (or perhaps early afternoon) I dragged my hiney out of bed, threw on some "not that dirty" clothes and we went for a walk. We packed a simple lunch of a sandwich, an apple and some water. David also brought cookies that he had "smuggled" away in his tux pocket for dessert (we are soooo classy.) We walked about a quarter of a mile deep into the woods and sat on a bench along the path and ate our picnic lunch, We smiled. We sat quietly. We observed nature. We talked about deep spiritual questions I had been mulling over. It was so simple. Yet, we loved it.<br />
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One of the things I've been telling myself day by day is that life does not have to be perfect to be wonderful.<br />
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And, by giving myself that freedom to just enjoy the wonder of life without expectation of perfection, suddenly every day is more enjoyable.<br />
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Now, I'm not going to say that my new little mantra has brought joy beyond measure to all aspects of my life. That's not true. But, what I will say is that when I'm having a sad day, or an afternoon where Murphy's Law seems to be in full effect, that letting go of perfection is allowing me to bounce back a little quicker.<br />
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It doesn't matter if my hair is gloriously held in place by twenty-some bobby pins, or if it is spilling out of a top-of-my-head messy bun. It doesn't matter if I'm with 400 plus people, or if it's just me and David, or even if it is just me. Joy can abound anyplace, anytime if we just keep our eyes peeled and our hearts grateful.<br />
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May the richness and the joy of Christ be part of your day today. The sun is shining. The temperature is pleasant (at least here in NWPA) and it's Sunday---a day to relax and connect. Take advantage of what is given to you, and remember, even if your day is not perfect, it can be so incredible wonderful!Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-63319612735234990332016-04-21T23:08:00.002-04:002016-04-21T23:33:01.765-04:00Introducing Friends<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">In our writing group we PROMISED each other to write on our blogs on Thursday. I have started this blog seventeen times, and I keep ending up with a blank screen.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">So, I did what I had to do. I went to <a href="http://learning.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/11/13/500-prompts-for-narrative-and-personal-writing/?_r=0" target="_blank">this website (click here!)</a> and found an amazing list of blog ideas. I read through them and still could not decide. So, I let fate take over from there...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">I texted my friend Alison and asked her to choose a number from 1 to 500. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">She chose #379. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">The blog prompt chosen asks a very important question: "How do you feel about introducing friends from different parts of your life?"</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">Wow. What an interesting topic...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">I shared the topic with Alison and quite quickly she responded that she tended to compartmentalize. "Work friends are for work. Home friends are for home."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">"What an interesting way of handling that," I said to myself. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">Because I'm so not like that. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">I think that Alison's way has a lot of merit. It keeps life from getting too messy, too complicated, and too...uncomfortable.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">But, as luck would have it, I'm a messy and complicated gal!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">I honestly have a lot of friends from a lot of walks of life. (I'm not bragging, I promise. I sometimes scratch my head and wonder why people even like me, but that is another blog post all in itself..) I love lots of people, and I want all the people I love to love each other and make life super lovely! (Can someone make me a t-shirt with that on it please?) And, sometimes, without thinking I invite like forty seven people over all at once. And, I tend to just sit back and watch what happens. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">I remember my first experience with the mixing of friends. I think it was my ninth or tenth birthday party, and my parents let me invite several friends over. That was the first time in my life that I remember understanding what true jealousy felt like. My friends ended up just adoring each other. And, as a side result, I honestly felt left out. I'm pretty sure I pouted, cried and was miserable the entire party!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">However, praise God, that as I grew older, the maturity came. Now, when I see that happen, I consider it a 100% success. If I can match one of my pals up in a new friendship with another buddy, that obviously tells me that my friends are so amazing that other people want to be with them too! And, the more my people love each other, the better my life is! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">However, I'm not going to lie to you and tell you this always go so well. There are times when certain people just don't mix. And, while that puts me in some awkward positions at times, I also consider it a beneficial place to be. There have been times when I have friends who pretty much can not stand one another. While sometimes navigating those waters can be tricky, I consider it my calling to make sure that I can help them "coexist" if you will. I truly believe that most people are worth the effort to maintain friendships with. I try to show opposing sides that very fact.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">Here is an examples of a conversation I may have participated in once or twice! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">"I'm not denying that person has been (insert not so lovely adjective here), but I will tell you that she also one of the most (insert lovely adjective here) people you will ever meet."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">Oh, yeah. I may also have one or two friends that I try to "prepare" my other friends in advance for their meeting. I mean, there are just some people that it's not fair to spring upon other people. But, even those that take preparation...well, they are worth it. They are genuine and amazing people. I hope someday to grow into the kind of person that takes some explaining before meeting me. :) (And to all my friends who are reading this...don't worry...it's probably not you I'm referring too, okay? And, if it is...well, read this paragraph again...YOU ARE WORTH IT!)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">Friendship is a give and take. It's about accepting people right where there are and loving them and helping them grow into a better person. It's about teaching people and ourselves to find "faults" endearing instead of agitating, and to find "quirks" lovable compared to irritating. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">I love my friends. And I think that other people should love them too! Especially my other friends! :) People are so very important to me. And, friendship is one of my most valued virtues in the world. I love the richness, complexity, wonder and insanity that comes from mixing all of my worlds at once. And, I mean this with all sincerity---that I hope you get more mixed up in my world sometime soon! I value people, and to me, friendship is beyond priceless. It's a gift straight from heaven.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">This. Is. Hilarious!</span></div>
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Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-4114568709563480152016-04-16T10:23:00.001-04:002016-04-16T10:32:09.805-04:00The music festival<span style="font-size: large;">I've been waiting for this weekend for months. The thought of a lively, music infused mini-escape less than a mile from my home has pulled me through an emotionally bleak winter.</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Last night, we went to check out the late night crowd at the Riverside Music Festival, and I was not disappointed. There's nothing like walking into the main lobby and some strumming hitting your ears. You walk into the hallway leading to the lounge and another style of music floats your way. You can't help but peek in really quick to see who is producing such unique and interesting sounds. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">After a quick glance, I continue walking down the hallway to another gathering area. I loved the sight we witnessed. There were about a dozen artist, and it was obvious they really didn't all know each other, but after a brief conversation, the started playing music and it all meshed. The rhythmic music made me tap my feet, and I leaned over and whispered to David, "This is what I have been waiting for." The bluegrassy sound made me smile and cause some reminiscing of my younger days when family jam sessions were occasionally on the weekend schedule. I was never part of the jamming, because the musical gene skipped me. However, my appreciation of the sound definitely did not.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We make a right turn, walk through a series of vendors, one which included liquor filled cupcakes (something I had never even heard of or imagine before...but they went unsampled on my part...lol) Then, we walk into the ballroom. The music was amazing...rich, smoky vocals accompanied by every kind of string instrument I can name (which, let's face it, I was not a music major.) We sat and watched a few people dance their hearts out, while David and I just enjoyed observing, being out past 9:00 for once, even if we were quite tired.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">After a few songs, my face started to hurt from smiling so much. We decided to avoid facial injury, got up, walked around, and eventually made our way back to the lounge. We sat down and enjoyed a few more artist. We shared some laughs about inside jokes between just the two of us, and enjoyed the vibe and excitement of a place filled with music lovers. In full Sarah disclosure, I did have a little bit more trouble enjoying some of the lounge singers, because, while their talent was impeccable, strong swear words make me sad. (Hey, just me being me.) But, the talent was undeniable, and the music itself, completely enjoyable. The last band we listened to was incredible, containing also a saxophone and a beat box. I loved it, but, alas my mom ears could only handle being close to the speakers for so long, and we made our way home around 11:00. We walked to our car, amazed by the talent we had witnessed I'm so grateful that God made music. And, I'm so thankful that we get to go back to the music Festival again today!</span></div>
Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-21199153376305462792016-04-15T08:34:00.001-04:002016-04-15T08:35:54.246-04:00Dear Future MeDear Future Sarah,<br />
I'm writing this in April. I hope you will come read it again come June or July. I think I have some wisdom from a quiet morning to share with you.<br />
I know you are quitting your babysitting job, and that is terrifying for you. You are comfortable babysitting. You love those boys as if they were your own. You have the routine down, and there is safety in the known.<br />
But, as usual, God quite often calls us into the unknown. You are being shooed from a world with a rather steady income (provided all parties stay healthy and there are no big snow storms.) into a place where there is no promise of you making anything. You are giving up the snuggles, playtime, storytime and the quiet wonder of afternoon naptime.<br />
Instead, Sarah, God is calling you to your next thing. BEING A WRITER. <br />
You have played and toyed with this idea for years now. But, this is the time. God is unwrapping all the circumstances, and it's happening right in front of you. You can't deny it. If you want to make it in the writing world, then, girl you have to write.<br />
Let's set some goals to make sure you are on the best track when you reread this in a few months.<br />
1. Have you grown in your spiritual disciplines? I know you want your writing to shine and drip with the love of Jesus. You can only do that if you are soaking it in. Are you praying? Are you journaling? Are you reading your Bible? Are you reading other works by Christian people? And, just in case you need an extra reminder...are you sure you are praying enough?<br />
2. Have you been taking walks? Sarah, you know when you walk that ideas come into your mind. You are inspired. Have you taken your notebook down to the boardwalk and sat on the log and made notes? I know you are kind of scared to walk there alone, but most likely you will not be eaten by a bear or a wild boar, and, if you do, well, writing is about taking risks. Do this if you haven't! You know the inspiration and the spiritual connection you feel with God at that place. <br />
3. Have you painted the "study?" Have you switched the rooms around and made a purposeful place for you to be inspired? I know that this will take a while and you may get overwhelmed, but don't let overwhelming feelings stop you from creating a place to express yourself! That little room is in your house for a reason! Let it be a place for spiritual refreshment and connection!<br />
4. Have you contacted newpapers? Magazines? Have you linked your blog on link up events? Yes, these also take risks...but they are necessary.<br />
5. Please, make sure you read more about the technology of blogging. Learn how to do more things with your blog!<br />
6. Have you actually read through the information you have downloaded from Compel writing training.<br />
7. Maybe you should finally get up the courage to ask David about taking the course from compel if you have done #6. <br />
8. Sarah, I want to encourage you to do word paintings. There are words that inspire you. Paint them. Decorate them. Embrace them. Have you painted "Selah" yet? If not, start here please.<br />
<br />
There are hundreds of other things I want to tell you, but I don't want current me or future me to get overwhelmed. I know you are busy. I know you have VBS planning and wrap up, and that you will be traveling for Title 1 this summer. I know you will probably have kids crawling all over your house this summer. But, I want to make sure you are beginning the practice of writing every single day now, this summer. Yes, even before the kids go back to school, and even before someone commits to publishing you. <br />
<br />
God made you emotional and expressive for a reason. You love this world. You want to inspire them and draw them close to a God that loves them so much. So, get writing. No excuses. God has something big planned for you in the future....and maybe, just maybe by the time you reread this, you know what it is!<br />
<br />
Pray, Love, and Live Well,<br />
Sarah RoseSarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-74630483361518009732016-04-14T14:07:00.002-04:002016-04-14T14:14:15.149-04:00Bruce Attacks! The Top Ten List!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Q4feyQ89aG6mbwQBGezzp3pxW6jPqmi6_0Y4MhE4NtACHnQNXJo27NJ-BNFfqkX6iFlLzj0lDOSk53LdvgpKKrU6LNxYTTC2KeE3l4FriMnhSmzDSTgbnhXKVqcqXjcAqSKZO0iNg6I/s1600/20160326_204244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Q4feyQ89aG6mbwQBGezzp3pxW6jPqmi6_0Y4MhE4NtACHnQNXJo27NJ-BNFfqkX6iFlLzj0lDOSk53LdvgpKKrU6LNxYTTC2KeE3l4FriMnhSmzDSTgbnhXKVqcqXjcAqSKZO0iNg6I/s640/20160326_204244.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
This is our cat, Bruce.<br />
We love him.<br />
We think he's adorable.<br />
And we think no other cat on the face of the earth compares to him.<br />
And that is a good thing. Especially when I consider the following list...<br />
<br />
The top 10 places that Bruce will attack<br />
<br />
1. When you bathe him. He has only been bathed twice. He came from a barn. He smelled like barn. It took some time to "unbarnsmell" him. That second bath was a near death experience for us both. Forget it cat, bathe yourself...<br />
2. When we are traveling on the staircase. Bruce enjoys tackling our hands that are on the banister as we ascend or descend the stairs. Sometimes, he's really obvious about it. Other times, it's a sneak attack that almost makes one faceplant on the steps!<br />
3. His current favorite: While I'm writing. One minute I'm typing furiously. The next, I'm screaming because there are cat claws digging into my back. Uncool, Bruce. So uncool.<br />
4. Occasionally the crazy kitten will make a leap attack while one of us is bent over. Many times, he does this while I'm tying my shoes. I believe it is his revenge for being left at home alone.<br />
5. This one...well, it's a little uncomfortable to write about...but it's necessary. The cat attacks every time I make my way to the potty. *SIGH* Sometimes he'll run and attack my feet as I enter the room, other times he'll wait until I'm sitting, and the next thing I know, his kitty claws are deep into my now-bare leg. <br />
6. This next one is very similar to the last one, except there is an element of surprise. So, Bruce has decided he LOVES to sleep in the bathtub. I just don't get it, but whatever. Anyways, he'll be asleep in the bathtub, and when I use the upstairs toilet, apparently he's a little irritated about me interrupting his catnap. So, without ANY warning, the cat will spring from behind the shower curtain, and once again, I end up with kitty claws in my now-bare leg. <br />
7. Bruce has an attack I call the "David Special." The cat stealthily places himself under our bed, peers underneath the dust ruffle and will attack feet, primarily David's, as foot traffic passes.<br />
8. Because actually doing the dishes is not torture enough, the insane feline will climb up my legs as I clean up after dinner.<br />
9. That reminds me...the cat also climbs up my leg WHILE I'm cooking dinner. <br />
10. And my favorite "when Bruce attacks" time is when I'm holding him like a baby and he playfully wraps his whole little body around my hand. He's so playful. Yeah, his nails and teeth are sharp, but I just loves when he does this. I know just the spot on his belly to touch that he will attack instantly.<br />
<br />
So, yeah, this list reminds me of an article I read online recently how basically cats are mini-lions and if they were bigger they would eat you. (Then, to calm my anxiety, I read another article that says that one is scientifically inaccurate.) But, really, this list is just half the fun of owning a kitty. <br />
<br />
Over the past few days that I have been feeling so sick, and there's nothing like Bruce climbing on my lap and purring to calm me down. I love how he stretches out when he wakes up from a sunshine nap and how he chases his own tail. He's funny. He's loving. He's kind of a butthead sometimes, but he's 100 percent part of our family. And, it's amazing that a girl who was so scared of animals just a few years ago, now allows a cat to share her home! <br />
<br />
Being a pet owner has been one of the best things in the world for me. And I'm so grateful for this little beast that attacks me so often!Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-42295323519559357312016-04-13T13:47:00.002-04:002016-04-13T13:47:56.425-04:00Happiness is not my Goal<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">Happiness
is far too fleeting a goal for me. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">I'm
no fool.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">After
all, I know what it's like to eat dinner with me.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">We
begin, hurriedly preparing the plates, filling water glasses, trying
to sit down before dinner cools.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">We
say our prayers. The daily recaps begin. “So and so was mean to
me at recess today, but I played with my best friend and we played
Miss Mary Mack,” my dramatic daughter retells with wild inflection,
grand hand motions, and endearing facial expression. As she is
telling her story, part of her pork chop flies off her waving fork
and lands on the floor. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">I'm
frustrated, but we find the humor in the situation, we all laugh, and
my son begins to talk about Forge of Empires and Pokemon. I try to
pay attention. I really do. I watch the freckles on his nose dance
as he talks about his latest passions. He's adorable, but I can't
stand either hobby. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">That's
his father's area of expertise. And just on cue, from my left comes
my husband's deep, smooth voice, adding input to recent improvements
made on their “FOE” villages. I feel a soft affection for him
bubble in my soul as I listen to him converse with our son. He's a
great dad.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">Then,
without warning, the tears flow. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">So
was my dad.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">But
he's gone now. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">So,
there I am, the rest of my family chattering away, and tears just
start flowing down my face. “Why can't I hold it together?” I
chastise myself for being 'so darn emotional' which actually makes me
cry more. And before I know it, I'm sobbing into my purple cloth
napkin that my daughter picked out especially for me that night. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">All
my family stops their conversation. My son comes and stands at my
right side, gently supporting my elbow with his hand. My husband
steps away from his plate as well, and rubs my shoulders as I sob
from the middle of my heart. My little girl says quietly, “I miss
him too.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">I
cry for another minute. Everyone returns to their seats. I take a
deep breath and we begin to discuss playing Monopoly as a family
after dinner.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">Anecdotal
proof. Happiness is really short lived. Especially now, in the
middle of grief. Actually, most emotions are at this point in my
life. All these feelings come and go and change without warning.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">All
but love.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">Love
is right around me. I give it. I get it. I treasure it. And
somehow, even in the middle of all these floods of emotions and
unsteadiness, love is what I seem to have a choice to choose.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">Love
doesn't cure all my sadness, but it soothes it, until the next short
lived happy moment comes along. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">You
know, like when I win Monopoly later that night.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt;">So,
win or lose, love is what I want at the center of my life, not
happiness.</span></div>
Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-3216826161265679092016-03-08T07:07:00.001-05:002016-03-08T07:07:27.579-05:00Writers Write<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I'm a writer.</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Writers write.</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Right?</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Well, this morning, this writer had to take a walk to remember that.</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I slept horribly last night. However, I consider that a blessing, since I was in prayer most of the night. I prayed about big decisions I have coming up. I prayed about my future. About employment. About Lydia's cough. I lifted up my lack of energy and how often I feel sick, and how I'm trusting God to light the fire under me to get me more active and healthy again. I thought about my dad and losing him. I told God how hard it is to not worry about my mom, and surrendered my concern about her over to God in prayer too. And I prayed about what honoring God looks like in my life.</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I woke up still having no idea what any of that entails. Even after a sleepless night. So, I took a walk. One of those beautiful morning walks where almost the entire world is still asleep. It always amazes me how when you initially step out the world seems so sleepy and still, but as you walk you become more aware of how many animals, birds and people are already awake and making their mark on the day. As I continued on, I prayed for my neighborhood, the houses I passed, and for the safety of the people who work at the prison near my home. I listened to the crunchy sediment beneath my feet, left there by piles of snow that had melted from our recent warm spell. I was startled by a squirrel hopping from creaky tree branches to a power line. And, a group of crows (I'm sure there's a name for them) mocked me as I walked slowly down the hill, surveying my beautiful little town. </span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">And as I turned my last corner, I realized my entire walk I had been "writing" prayers to God. I had been composing my experience in my mind. I imagined how it would feel to put what I was experiencing down on paper (or screen). And, in the dawn of a new morning, God reminded me to keep on writing. It's how I make sense of my world. </span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Because I'm a writer. And writers need to write.</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-90303373012436408202016-01-19T13:41:00.001-05:002016-01-19T13:41:57.183-05:00He's Gone<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It's been two months already. Or, it's only been two month. Or, how can two months feel like a lifetime ago?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Man, there's just no poetic way to write this.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Two months ago, today, my dad died.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">And, I feel so many conflicting feelings. Because, I know that my loss is not the only one in the world. On the same day, 3 people in our church family passed away. I've had friends lose husbands. I've had ones I care about lose children. We've had other family members die. Even in the celebrity world, the losses have been so great lately. And every time I hear about another person dying, it makes my heart ache more. I am totally aware that I'm not the only one hurting. And, so sometimes, my personal grief feels so very selfish. Yet, I can't shake it. That man, my daddy, he's gone from this world now. And, my world just feels really empty.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Adding to my grief, is seeing my mom, alone and hurting. We both try to be grateful. But, on top of losing dad, there is the heavy burden of how to handle dad's loss financially. Mom is truly having to live life by faith every day, and sometimes worry is easier to come by than faith. It's hard to be so limited in what I can do. I have to resign myself to let God do the work that I can't. It's hard to watch my mom, my beautiful, wonderful, caring, sacrificial mom hurt so bad in so many ways. And, to have to go through all of it without Dad...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I just miss him so badly. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I try to be thankful. We had such a great relationship. Even during the really hard times, I realize how blessed I was to have the ability to communicate with my dad. And, those of you who are close to me know what our relationship was like. I miss joking with him, teasing him, hugging him, and pouring my heart out to him. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I can't stop thinking about how well he loved my kids. And, how deep their hurt is. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">But, my biggest fear is that the world will forget about him. It feels like they have, sometimes. I know that's just a part of grief, but the way the world keeps moving, when my heart would do anything to go back to November 12th. Back to a day where my dad could talk, he could hug me, and where there was hope. November 13th, he had a stroke in the hospital, where he had been admitted was for other issues that were never found out...and from that day he "lived" until November 19th. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I kept trying to tell the nurses who were caring for him how funny he was. How much of a joker and a "pain in the butt" he could be. I tried to make him smile at me, just one more time. And, it never happened. He just laid there, silently, passing from this world into the next.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I can't describe the void in my heart.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I just needed to write this down. To honor him. To remember him. And, to ask you all, to please, don't forget him.</span><br />
<br />
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Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-45590416016703031742015-09-02T08:32:00.000-04:002015-09-02T08:37:43.223-04:00Back to School---My realityToday, it is so quiet in my house that I can actually hear words tumbling in my brain. It's kind of freaking me out. <br />
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Back to school day brings out so many emotions.</div>
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Happiness, well, because, as mentioned before I can hear the thoughts in my mind. Excitement because of all the new friends to be made, concepts to master, and new things to experience.</div>
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Yet, I have a few things to admit.</div>
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I feel guilty this year, too. Because of my job, because of money (i.e. gas money...I get that we are less than a mile from the school...but starting my car and shutting it off at least six times a day for school runs really wears on my car and my gas mileage) and yes, because of convenience, I put my kids on a bus this morning. I know my children will only be on the bus for approx six minutes each way, but that adds up to an hour every 5 day week. What words will they hear in those six minutes? What things will they see? Will they be made fun of? Will they make fun of someone else? </div>
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School is one thing, but the bus, it just seems like a cruel, hard world. And, I'm the one who spent the summer making phone calls and sending emails to make it happen. (Dear Lord, please, remind me that millions of kids ride a bus every single day, and they are not hardened criminals by the end of fourth grade....)</div>
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I also have a feeling I'm the only parent who is sending their kids with last years' backpacks and lunch boxes, non-new underwear, and a wardrobe whose only fresh items have come from fabulous handmedowns. (Thanks Aunt Robin!!!) It's not that I couldn't have bought my kids a new wardrobe. I had a little bit of extra cash from end of summer babysitting jobs, but really, I couldn't justify buying clothes with it, when my family likes to eat and see in the dark! (Yeah, I could have used my credit card...but that's for EMERGENCIES...and Back to School, contrary to popular belief, is NOT an emergency) If I don't want my kids to be spoiled, I am the one who has to control the buying of things. Even Lydia's sparkly binder was a passed down VBS binder from the Shine curriculum. I did buy a whole new crayola set for approximately $2.83 during Wal-Mart's super cheap school supply sale, so I should get a bonus point or two for that.</div>
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I also am sending them into the great unknown without having met their teachers. Like, one I have seen in the hall, but I can't remember what she looks like...and the other just came from another school and I really have no clue who she is. This also is a first for me. I did email one of the teachers, so does that count?</div>
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*Sigh* Parenting. Whatever. Can I just say I must prefer to be the mom of KIDS instead of STUDENTS. I miss summer already. Optional bathing, fun reading, and no stressing over vowel sounds, IEP's, or multiplication.</div>
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So basically, here, back to school was "Put on your old clothes, let me throw you on a giant bus with swearing kids, and let them ship you to people I don't know" day. </div>
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Yeah, I'm awesome.</div>
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And, even though that may sound sarcastic, I'm not really being sarcastic. I think I'm revisiting what life was like for parents maybe thirty or forty years ago. And you know what? I'm not stressed out. I'm not broke. And, besides learning some swear words on the bus, I think my kids are going to be okay. (But, let's just pray that none of the kids on the bus even know bad words, kay?) </div>
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I prayed over them at breakfast this morning, reminded them they are to be a light to a world that needs love, and sent them out boldly..with a lot of emotions...but boldy still.</div>
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And to top it all off, I get a chance to drink coffee uninterrupted, and write a blog. So, bam. Today rocks. And we are all going to be just fine.</div>
Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-9051706333952824082015-07-25T09:52:00.000-04:002015-07-25T09:52:54.658-04:00Business CardsI've decided I'm ordering business cards.<br />
With my blog address on them. <br />
I shared my blog address with a friend a couple days ago, and just knowing that I may have a potential new reader was enough to light the "blogging fire."<br />
And apparently I think having my blog website listed on a business card would be easy enough to motivate me. So, yeah, I'm going to do that.<br />
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And to the 41 one of you who are already reading my blog...I'm sorry I haven't blogged since April. I didn't mean to ignore you. I just have been "busy" raising children, playing with kids, breaking bones, traveling, reading, hammocking, front porch sitting, roller derby reffing, injuring myself more, running a VBS, hosting Elena from Spain, and cooking. You know...the norm.<br />
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But, these last few days I've taken a break from chaos and allowed myself to rest. And I keep coming back to writing. And how good it feels to see my thoughts flesh out with help of the blinking cursor. I have started a new notebook to journal in. I have been writing little love "sentences" to David (he's working so many hours he does not have time for a whole note...)<br />
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Writing is who I am...it's what I do...and I hope to remember, with the help of those business cards, that I can still write---no matter what is happening around me. I don't have to have some original idea that is going to shock the world when I sit down to blog. I don't have to have 1500 words all lined up. I just need to be honest, transparent, and open to the power of words. After all, sometimes all it takes is one sentence scribbled on the back of a napkin to change your day.<br />
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Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-17566860343720839122015-04-11T10:51:00.000-04:002015-04-11T10:54:24.157-04:00Nap Time<div>
When I walk into the room, it has a lingering smell of my morning perfume spritz. I can also take in the faint smell of peppermint and cherry almond lotion. When I look at the gray and yellow quilt, neatly pulled over the pillow, I feel a tiny twinge of guilt for pulling the covers back. I hop up, just because the bed has always been a little higher off the ground than I can reach. I slide my feet deep under the covers and kick off my socks, and wiggle my toes to soak up the silkiness of the well worn cotton sheet. Once my feet have found their spot, I use my newly free toes to grab the pillow that was hiding under the covers. I use great effort to pull that pillow up towards my middle, and I place it under my knees. </div>
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I wiggle my body deeper into the memory foam mattress. I open my arms up and make a motion as if I am flapping giant wings. I love the coolness of the sheets. It's such a welcoming feeling. The down comforter feels so silky and soft. I pretend that it has been waiting for me to come in and twist its soft fabric between my thumb and pointer finger of my right hand, as I do nearly every time I climb in bed.</div>
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The brilliance of the sunlight streaming in the windows appears brilliant and perfect. The temperature of the room is just right. It's not hot, and it's cool enough to climb under the comforter and be completely relaxed. You can call me Goldilocks.</div>
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My head feels the pillow and finds its well worn in spot. The rest of pillow folds up around my ears, as to drown out all the insanity of the world. I breathe in for four slow counts, then take my time counting from one to thirteen as I push as much air out of my abdomen as possible. I do it again, at least 3 or 4 times. "Thank you Jesus," I whisper deep from in my soul. I know I'm blessed to have this moment, this place, a mini fortress to separate me from the world.</div>
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I don't want to bunker down forever. Just a few moments. Just enough to connect with the God who loves me. Because, sometimes outside of this room, I feel attacked. I feel worn. I feel used. I feel beaten down by temptation and sin and chaos. But, here, right now. I feel loved. In my safe place. In my good gift from God. Because, when I give myself a few minutes in the afternoon to lay down and relax in my soft bed, I reemerge a woman ready to battle. Ready to shed more hope, more light, more compassion. I can continue to kiss boo boo's and pray for weary friends. I energize the side of me that needs to cook dinner, help with homework, encourage an exhausted husband, and prepare my family for what lies to head tomorrow.</div>
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I just simply need my afternoon nap.</div>
Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-22487690795752296332015-02-03T12:37:00.003-05:002015-02-04T07:00:04.549-05:00The season of simplicityOh, growing up is just so very hard to do. Especially, when I'm technically supposed to be all grown up.<br />
I find that my life, just like everyone else's, seems to have seasons, just like nature. Right now, my season is simplicity.<br />
I'm focusing on just a few things, and making sure I'm doing them well. I'm working on being a wife, mom, daughter, friend, and babysitter. I'm devoting myself to finishing out my MOPS career strong, and still building friendships with the new moms who come in, even though their duration may be brief. And, I'm really, carefully, thoughtfully committing myself to be more intentional with relationships and self care.<br />
To accomplish this, I have discovered, I have to cut back on commitments. How can I enjoy one thing, if I'm worried about being late for the next thing? Or If I feel like socializing just keeps me from accomplishing tasks? The fact of the matter is, I couldn't. So, right after Thanksgiving, I began to change some things in my life, and I just have to share with you, they are working! <br />
My to do list has always been a very important part of my day, but now it's even more vital. It is carefully thought out and helps me stay on task, instead of sending me running around all day long. And I always make sure I write things to make me more present on my to do list everyday. "Call ______, just to check in." "Eat breakfast, and enjoy it." "Read stories with the kids." "Write a letter to ______ just to let her know that you are on her mind." Being intentional takes discipline. And, right now, I still need the validation on my to do list that doing all these little things matters.<br />
I have cut a lot out of my life lately. Commitments all across the board, so that when I say yes to something, I can give it my all, and not just what is left over from the other seventeen things I'm already wrapped up in. Saying goodbye to so many things has been difficult. Everything I have been involved in, I consider worthwhile. And, not seeing my friends as often has been challenging, however, living this way is really teaching me how good life can be.<br />
How my house doesn't have to be teetering on the brink of disaster. How a book can feel so amazingly good in my hands. How Monopoly or Parcheesi with my family can be the highlight of my day. And, how I can actually have time to have a long conversation on the phone with a friend or aunt or whoever without feeling guilty about ignoring everything I "should have" been doing during that time. <br />
I was able to go to my Gramma's the other day and spend precious time with her while she was teaching me to run the sewing machine. And, I have been able to practice sight words with Lydia. And actually pay attention to Micah while he shows me the hundreds of comics he draws throughout the week. And, sometimes, if the cards fall just right, I even get to sit down next to my husband, look him in the eyes, hold his hand and smile at him. Seriously, it's amazing.<br />
I struggle with not wanting to punish myself for the years that I have over-scheduled and over-commited myself. But, like I said before, life is a season. And, it just took me several seasons to get it. It feels good to embrace simplicity. To enjoy people. And not to live under the tyranny of the urgent.Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-812714681715945172015-01-29T11:07:00.001-05:002015-01-29T11:07:09.862-05:00Opening the door"No home is too small that one more can not be invited. Cozy is the new grand." ~Jen Schmidt.<div>
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I have no idea who Jen Schmidt is, but I'm pretty sure we could be really good friends with a statement like that.</div>
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Today, I had the honor of having a couple of friends over for a playdate. We made pancakes, taught small children about measuring and ingredients, and then turned our pancakes into polar bears thanks to powdered sugar, bananas and chocolate chips. The kids love the activity and the yummy breakfast.</div>
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But, me? Well, I just loved the fact that the house was crazy, chaotic, full of noise and mess and fun. I felt honored that my friends would choose to spend their morning with me. </div>
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I love nothing more than to have friends and family in my home. I love cooking for them, caring for them, chatting with them, praying with and for them, and just being WITH other people.</div>
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I think sometimes we are really scared to let other people in. I've learned to let go of that fear and bravely open my door, no matter how messy my house is, no matter how unkempt I am, or how weird my life is at that moment. </div>
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I guess, I just wanted to encourage you to do the same. Because, today, after the playdate I hosted, I received an invitation to visit with another friend at her home next week. And, I have to tell you, it feels awesome to receive that invitation! It makes me feel loved and important to be invited to someone else's home.</div>
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Hospitality is an important skill and a wonderful gift. Maybe hosting doesn't come natural to you...I encourage you to try it anyways! It's a great way to reach out to people. Or perhaps you are a natural hostess, but you've been so caught up in the winter blues that you forgot to reach out! I encourage you fight the doldrums by brightening up someone else's day!!! Be bold! Open your heart! Open your doors! And make someone else feel loved today! </div>
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Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-6096003807208493772015-01-12T16:27:00.001-05:002015-01-12T16:27:23.137-05:00Quick Thoughts to Get StartedOkay, I know I've been silent, for a LOOOONG time. Please forgive me? I can make a million excuses like my computer broke, my kids got sick, I got sick, the holidays happened, I have too much laundry, I was writing a book...but I wouldn't want to bore you with them. I would rather just humbly ask for your forgiveness and move on. Especially since embarrassment of my lack of blogging has kept me from writing and then I don't blog and my humiliation grows and well, the cycle could continue forever. Unless I start writing at this moment. Which I am. So, okay. Yeah, thanks for forgiving me. <br />
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Anyways, 2014 was perhaps one of the most stellar years of my adult life. I published a book, I started my own little mini home daycare, my husband and I have paid off substantial debt, lots of relationships have been deepened, I believe I may have finally found a niche to serve in my church, and our family has been very happy and healthy. It's a little scary leaving a year like 2014. Is it possible to have two stellar years in a row?<br />
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I am not sure. But, I do know that 2015 has had some great things about it already. For instance, I have found perhaps the most perfect cleaning chart for my life. Twelve days into 2015 and my house is still visitor ready. It's not spotless, and my house is still well lived in, but I'm making so much progress every day that even I can't believe it.<br />
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I'm making a point to study the Bible with my family more. My husband, who has infinitely less brain clutter (meaning that he is better at organizing his thoughts...not that he has less thoughts..) than I do, is working on memorizing CHAPTERS of the Bible. Me, I'm working on one verse at a time, that I literally have temporary tattooed on my hand. We've been studying a devotional with our children about being average people living super lives for Jesus. We are growing. Alas, we have not yet "arrived," but we are growing.<br />
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But, 2015 is also proving to be a challenging year as it begins. I am struggling this year as my MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) ministry season comes to a close. I can't imagine a life where I'm not serving in MOPS. For years, this has been my season, my calling, my thing...and now, because both my kids and I are growing up, it's time for me to find a new thing. My friends and family promise me that something is waiting for me around the corner, but I worry sometimes. I mean, I know that I'm young, but I'm afraid of being considered washed up or overlooked or unused. Even as I type those words, I know they are untrue, but oh, friends, what a struggle to go from knowing exactly where you belong to no longer having a clue. I'm saying goodbye to this ministry with a few other friends, and I'm not going to lie...I'm so jealous that they at least have an inkling as to what God may have in store for them. Not me. I'm just sitting here, usually with tears in my eyes, trying to focus on the here and now, and the jobs that still are my responsibility, while trying not to think about the fact that soon, all my responsibilities will belong to someone else. And, I have no idea what my place in the world will be.<br />
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Even my writing has been a struggle. But, today, I prayed for a friend, and she prayed for me. We both agreed that we needed a creative spark, a desire to create, to make, a muse. I think God provided that for me today, just in the fact that I've been able to sit down for eighteen solid, uninterrupted minutes today!<br />
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I'm not making any promises about blogging this year. I know what I DESIRE to do, how often I would LOVE to write, but sometimes life goes in different ways. For now, I just want to enjoy this moment. The fact that words are falling off my fingertips, that the snow is still coming down outside, that this is my first post of 2015, and that I hope it's one of many. <br />
<br />Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-39876955340456691952014-10-14T19:33:00.001-04:002014-10-14T20:22:30.883-04:00Cracking the Closet Door...Day 2 of getting to know me a little bit better has come. <br />
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I try to hide this part of me...but what I'm going to show you is basically a major hub of my life. So, even if the door is closed, chances are if you are at my house for more than ten minutes, you will see into the heart of my home. My power station...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT2eizNu8yUyd3MQbL3RaeArTI4pS7xHjnYVYTmBzb9zxc6PAWGsvA3Mj_ktOe75Qdtysdw8nR7LFzXLuFHfdm0V62plKFi0xI0msdp81WYdY8WdMQe2D8IptDjElufpTYnHEGZxycq0I/s1600/blog+photos+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT2eizNu8yUyd3MQbL3RaeArTI4pS7xHjnYVYTmBzb9zxc6PAWGsvA3Mj_ktOe75Qdtysdw8nR7LFzXLuFHfdm0V62plKFi0xI0msdp81WYdY8WdMQe2D8IptDjElufpTYnHEGZxycq0I/s1600/blog+photos+-+1" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My downstairs closet.</span></div>
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It holds EVERYTHING! Go ahead...play I Spy here.<br />
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Can you find...<br />
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A crock pot? How about 4?</div>
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At least 20 Pyrex dishes?</div>
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Painting supplies?</div>
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A dirt devil?</div>
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A vacuum?</div>
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My preschool supply box for the kids I babysit?</div>
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Scissors?</div>
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Glue?</div>
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Paper?</div>
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A tool kit?</div>
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Envelopes?</div>
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Old family photos?</div>
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A power drill?</div>
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About 7 Thirty One bags that I use for grocery shopping?</div>
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Extra table cloths?</div>
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Yeah, you name it, it's in this closet. I sort through it about four times a year. I even have had friends clean it for me. But no matter how hard I try, I can not keep this place clean! It drives me crazy, because as mentioned before, this is the HUB of my home. This closet is where everything important is stored.<br />
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Believe it or not, I am selective about what goes in here. And truthfully, I'm pretty awesome at purging or throwing things out. (Except for crock pots and Pyrex dishes...because they are awesome and I use all of them...sometimes all at once!)<br />
So, who has advice for me? How can I tackle this closet? How can I improve my usage and storage. <span style="font-size: large;"> I<i> <b>need</b></i> this place to be functional so that I can be my best.</span><br />
Also...do YOU have a place like this? Please, tell me I'm not all alone here!<br />
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<br />Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-76268613336711053592014-10-13T13:08:00.001-04:002014-10-13T13:08:15.025-04:00Little Birdies<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Today, we are celebrating my 150th Blog Post! Yay! Thank you for journeying with me! </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>To celebrate I am taking on a five day blog project. Each day I'm going to take a picture of something in my house, and tell you the story behind it. I share a lot about my life, but there is still so much to tell you. :)</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Today's item is a little one that is probably overlooked by everyone else that comes in to my home. Honestly, I don't even know if David even notices it. But I do. It sits right about my kitchen sink...and always has in the three houses we've lived in since were were married. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Mr. Bluebird. He was a gift from our dear friend Erin when David and I wed. He's simple, beautiful, and classic. And, because of the wedded bliss promised from a legend about bluebirds---he's always been a symbol of my love for my husband and our life together. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>My marriage is a priority for me, and this little fella reminds me of that daily! </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>So a couple of follow up questions---if you have been to my home, have you ever noticed this little birdie? And, what do YOU have in YOUR home that reminds you of your priorities?</b></span></div>
Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-66041339107307566532014-10-09T12:42:00.002-04:002014-10-09T12:42:54.933-04:00Where's SarahI am a mess.<br />
I will never deny that.<br />
That's why yesterday's blog about Jesus' love was so important. Because, Jesus loves me even when I mess up.<br />
And, as it turns out, so do my friends. :)<br />
Let me tell you a little bit about this morning.<br />
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I babysit S & T. S is two years old, soon to be three, and T is 6 months old. They are the cutest little guys, and on Thursdays they are my only kids that I watch. So, on Thursdays, we get to do things we would not normally be able to do, like go out to breakfast.<br />
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The night before, my friend Natasha, had texted me and we made plans to meet at the cozy little breakfast place in town. It's her favorite restaurant, and it has become one of my favorites because of her. The boys were coming later today, so we had planned on leaving my house at 8:30. It was going to be a perfect morning.<br />
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UNTIL---she shows up at my house. My car was in the driveway, but no one was answering her knock at the door. There was no noise or movement coming from the inside and she started to worry. Assuming I had walked to the diner with the boys Natasha leaves to go check the diner. That's when Justin, the boys' dad, arrives to drop them off. He finds the same thing...a quiet house with no Sarah.<br />
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As Natasha realizes I'm not at the diner, and Justin realizes I'm not answering the door, the text messages and phone calls begin. They met each other on my front porch and tried to think of where I could be or what may be happening. Phone calls to my cell phone, the house phone, my closest friends, my mother, my grandmother---they blew up those phone lines in my area.<br />
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Automatically, their minds drifted to the worst. Obviously, I was dead somewhere, and someone was going to have to find me.<br />
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Except, I wasn't dead. Just dead tired. And deaf in my left ear. And the owner of a cell phone that had a drained battery. Yup. I was upstairs in my room, peacefully sleeping, on my right side, with my deaf ear up.<br />
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I had no idea I was even missing.<br />
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I slept through all the phone calls, all the people in my house, everything...<br />
I was in dreamland. To make it better, I was dreaming about finding T's missing binkies---which I'm always on the search for!<br />
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The world had never been happier for me to wake up. I had never been more humiliated. I really hate messing up. Especially when it comes to messing up for people I really love and cherish.<br />
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I can't believe God blesses me with friends who love me even when I sleep like a rock when I'm supposed to be up and productive. I can't believe they were not irritated at me, but rather, just so thankful I'm alive. <br />
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So, it turns out that maybe, just maybe there are people in our lives who reflect Jesus' unconditional love. Like my friends. They rock. Even when I don't! Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-53719325928790637412014-10-08T14:00:00.000-04:002014-10-08T14:00:06.436-04:00LoveLast weekend I attended the MOPS International leadership conference, which has affectionately been named "MomCon." While I was there, I heard from amazing speakers, bought life changing books, and felt a rekindling from God that I so desperately needed. But, as I reflect over my weekend, the most powerful moment was in the car ride, on the way home. The entire ride home was such a blessing to me...each woman sharing their reflections and their take-home points. We poured out our hearts about sin, struggles, encouragement and hopes for the future of our ministry. But, THE MOMENT came for me out of one simple sentence from my friend Jenny. <br />
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I do not know what we were talking about or how it came up, but Jenny simply said, "Oh I love Jesus so much."<br />
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Now, back when I in high school, while most girls were scribbling their boyfriends' names on the front cover of their notebooks, I was writing my Lord's name down. In fact, I remember one time in tenth grade health, the student teacher looked down at my nerdy front row desk with my notebook covered in hearts and the name of Jesus and asked me who "Jesse" was. I was horrified, because an upperclassman named Jesse was in my class, and I quietly responded, "It says Jesus, not Jesse." Oh, I was so in love with Jesus. I would write his name, daydream about him, risk public humiliation for him. <br />
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When I heard Jenny proclaim her love for Jesus, it startled me. When was the last time I had proclaimed out-loud with the passion that she had that I desperately loved my Savior?<br />
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Fast forward a couple days later, to a typical Monday night at our house. We were eating dinner, and my Papa Pete was spending time with us while my Gram was at Bingo. Papa loves to talk about the past and his horses and the work he did logging the woods when he was young. He was telling me that once he had built a loving and caring relationship with his horses, they were so easy to keep in line. He said, "It was like their love for me made them want to please me."<br />
<br />Do you see where I'm going with this?<br />
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Somehow along the way I went from a girl passionately obsessed with Jesus, the man, his character and his love, to a woman who was stuck in the rut of obedience. Obedience does not earn love. In a slow, quiet change, I went from experiencing Jesus and his love to trying to earn it. I had forgotten that, unlike the people in this world, Jesus will love me no matter what I do. I traded in simply loving and being loved for the feeling that I had to earn God's love. What a bum deal! I had quit allowing myself to be swept away by God's love and just letting me proclaim for the world how much I love Jesus. And the thing is, I forgot that when you are completely smitten with your Savior, obedience just pours from you...not because you feel like you have to obey God, but simply because your love makes you want to obey him.<br />
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I'm going to be really honest here and say that I'm not sure what my next step is. Should I just grab the nearest notebook and doodle Jesus' name like a school girl? Maybe? Perhaps I should just sit quietly and meditate on the love of Christ. It probably wouldn't hurt. I truthfully am so caught up in "being good enough to be loved," that I'm not sure how to "just be loved." <br />
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The next steps for me, just like most things in my life, will require bravery, trust, and faith. I desperately long for Jesus to sweep me away in His love and I want to lose myself in the wonder of it all. And, I'm pretty sure, just by the way I feel right now, that's all Jesus needs me to do...is to <i>want </i>to love Him more. I don't have to do anything else. "Doing" is how I got in this mess in the first place. <br />
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I'm interested in hearing from you---what do you do to increase your intimacy with Christ? Do you feel loved no matter what? Or, like me, have you been felt trapped in the "earning God's love trap?" Please, feel free to share and we can discuss, encourage, and pray for one another.<br />
<br />Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-21021303502334568592014-10-06T12:13:00.001-04:002014-10-06T12:16:34.121-04:00Callings, plans, and prayersIt was about a year ago that I had a great idea placed in my lap from my dear writing group friends. "Hey, why don't we all try to write 50 thousand words and form a novel for National Novel Writing Month?" I threw myself in completely and wrote with a passion that I had never felt before. Each day, I would ignore house work, drink ridiculous amounts of coffee, and write until my vision blurred and my fingers bled. I was a writer. Even more than that...I was an author.<br />
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Within months, I had a publisher, and shortly after that I had a book. It was so fast, so miraculous, and to be quite honest, even though the days felt hard, it was easy...really easy.<br />
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So, here I sit with less than a month before "NaNoWriMo" starts, and I'm committing to writing again. I am not delusional enough to believe this time will be easy. I know I'm working this year and my schedule is tighter. I know I'm more intimidated this year (especially as I've learned more about the publishing process). And truthfully, I'm just simply more"in the know" this year. There is truth in the old adage "ignorance is bliss."<br />
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Last year, NaNoWriMo was blissful for me. This year, I'm fully anticipating a battle. But, I'm a strong person and a brave writer. I have a message welling up inside me that I need to share. <br />
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But, the question I want to ask you is are you supposed to be joining me? One of my favorite quotes is from Crystal Evans, "Some readers will only hear, understand and accept certain things when they read it in your words, from your perspective, written in your voice. We were each created by God to do our part. And if we fail to do it because we don't think it's valuable enough, great loss will be suffered. Someone, somewhere, needs you---in all of your uniqueness---to step up to the plate of your calling."<br />
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Powerful stuff. Things to pray over. I'm asking God to clearly lead you to your voice, you mission---because he may just have a story stored up in your heart.<br />
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Please, leave a comment if you are considering writing for the month of November. I want to pray with and for you. And, if you are not feeling that calling, will you please partner with me in prayer? Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-74872180086978110812014-09-17T14:01:00.000-04:002014-09-17T14:04:05.662-04:00BLOCK PARTY! I want to be an awesome neighbor.<br />
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I love my little town and I feel a passion for living in a purposeful way to connect with my neighbors, friends, and loved ones. I want to know my neighbors' favorite dinners, their dogs' names, and their birthdays. I want to encourage them, wave at them, cook for them, and help them have happier days. As soon as someone moves into a house I can see from my front or back porch, I develop an automatic affection for them. They become "my people."</div>
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But, I'm learning as time goes on that being a good neighbor is sort of...weird.</div>
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And the last thing I want is for my neighbors to call me the "weird lady in the yellow house."</div>
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When we first moved into this neighborhood, we had an automatic connection with two other families. We were all homeschooling, stay at home moms. Our kids were all around the same age, and they played together for hours a day, and since the children were so young and needed adult supervision, we three moms usually had many hours of summer chit chat in a day. </div>
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Now a days, those neighbors live in different houses, and my status as a homeschooling mom has changed. Most of the houses around me have new occupants, and I'm not even sure I really know some of my neighbors names. And while I'm still at home, I'm a working mom, spending 10 hours a day caring for other people's children and the rest of the day caring for mine (oh, and writing at naptime!). Physically getting outside of my home with two toddlers and a baby takes work and planning, and everyone else has work and plans too. Life is hard. Being a good neighbor is tough.</div>
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So, I guess what I'm trying to say is...I wish being friendly didn't seem so foreign in our culture. I wish that being kind and inviting someone into your home didn't seem like such a risk. </div>
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But, I'm a pretty brave girl, and I don't mind taking risks. So, in a few weeks, I'm going to take a big one---I'm having a block party! I tried it once, and it went okay. I'm attempting again, and I hope that it will be awesome! (I'm an optimist, what can I say?!) So, my dear readers...I need input...If your neighbors were having a block party, what would you want there? Any ideas, suggestion, and input are welcome and valued! I just want to be a blessing to those we live around! </div>
Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2281776883413706981.post-90713777737031803772014-09-11T16:33:00.002-04:002014-09-11T16:33:25.286-04:00Be You Bravely<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s
not a metaphor. I quite literally will
not take the plunge. At least a half a
dozen times I’ve stood at the side of the pool, imagining what it would feel
like to let myself step off the edge, and plunge deep into the waters. I know logically, I have nothing to
fear. My body, naturally buoyant, would
float. Anyways, my husband or my friends
are always there, ready to help me if something should happen and I start to
drown. I let me own children do it, over
and over again, yet there is something about it holding me back. I have thought about the fact that it may
hurt, just physically jumping off the side, but pain has never held me back
much.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even
though there’s a part of me that is ashamed of myself for not allowing myself
to just go for it, there is another part of me that says---if this <b><i>was</i></b>
a metaphor, it would be a lie. I <b><i>am</i></b>
brave, fearless, heroic, and courageous. I take risks.
I <b>do</b> dive in, metaphorically,
anyways. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am
living a transparent life, where I am in no way pretending I’m perfect. Anyone who reads my blog or follows my
Facebook page or comes in contact with me knows that I’m just a girl who loves
Jesus very much who is trying to do the right thing, while being unsure of
myself and how to overcome my sins. I’m
someone who tries to boldly extend grace, just the way it has been given to
me. Deep in my heart, I know my own
convictions, and I do my best to live the way God has called me to. That is rare and few people are honest enough
to live life this way. I am brave.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every
morning, I wake up a woman who is prone to anxiety. I get worked up about everything---from mice
to nuclear bombs and spiritual warfare.
One of my first thoughts every morning is “I can’t believe I made it
alive to live another day.” I constantly
wonder if I may die and what would happen to my children and husband and
parents. Who would ever love them the
way I do? I feel my heart race and my
palms turn clammy and cold as my mind imagines what it feels like as death
overtakes your body. Yeah, I know I’m
morbid, but these are my thoughts. This
is my reality. I face and refute these
fears every day, with the truth of God’s word.
So, even though I face fear nearly every moment of my life, I am indeed
fearless.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love
people. I risk getting my heart broken
everyday by juggling many valuable relationships. I try to encourage, help, and hug whenever I
can. I overlook offenses that cause
others to demand worldly justice. I also care for other women’s children day in
and day out. I keep those babies safe,
hug them, love them, wipe their spit off of me, and carefully clean their
bottoms. I comfort them while their
mommies are out changing the world in their own particular ways. I’ve taken what most would consider a menial
job and made it a passion, my mission. In
a world that often gives way to isolation, I’m committed to befriending,
loving, forgiving, and caring for people.
Because of this, I am heroic.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So,
maybe the next time I go to the pool, I’ll jump off the side. But, chances are, I never will. And I’m mostly okay with that. Because, I’m no coward. I’m a bold woman who faces one risk after
another day after day---and let’s face it---I can’t do everything. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Sarah Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18356541182982265985noreply@blogger.com3