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beachbear
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Name: Sarah
Country: United States
State: North Carolina
Metro: Wilmington
Birthday: 5/16/1984
Gender: Female
Interests: consistently: writing something of honor and fighting for the unborn... currently: trying to figure out what it really means to be a college graduate
Expertise: hehe...pride goeth before the fall...i have no expertise, only talents given by the grace of God.
Occupation: Retired
Message: message me
AIM:  jeremiasgnration
Member Since:
3/24/2004
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| i enjoyed myself a great deal today. i spent the majority of it with the yuhannas. bishop wanted to go thrifting this morning, so marinda and i picked him and his son, noel, up from their new house and set off to find some secondhand cookware. a few hours later, we hadn't really succeeded in said task, BUT...we made up for it...with other great treasures. on the list:
1) a very lovely, very beaded wedding dress ($25, hand-picked by the bishop)
2) a handy dandy laptop carry case (black)
3) a mormon student manual--purchased by me of course--which we better kinda keep on the dL so as not to alert any, um, "bike bound" authorities
4) a fuzzy white bunny in perfect noel hug size
aaaaaaaand *drumroll please*
5) a hippie skirt--no, wait. TWO hippie skirts. one for me, and one for marinda.
overall, a very productive shopping trip. though i now have eight more books to find a home for on my already too full bookshelves. i may just start ducktaping them to the walls.
afterwards, we picked up mom, dropped off marinda, and headed to the yuhannas house for some authentic indian cuisine...which they actually just call "dinner." way to play it down mrs. yuhanna. we ate, we laughed, we had tea. the perfect holiday after an exhausting week at vacation bible school. in fact, there was a moment after dinner, as i sat at the table with mom, dad, bishop and his wife where we all fell silent and just kind of breathed. it was not long, and it was not the awkward silence of people momentarily running out of things to say...it was a silence of contentment...the silence of people who had nothing to say at all because, in that particular moment, existing together was enough.
such moments had recently become very rare in my life. it is good to find them again. it is good to have the yuhannas here in wilmington, breathing and living as part of our family. i am excited to see what God will do with them, how He will bless them, and how in blessing them He will bless us.
so, welcome to america friends. and may the peace of the Lord be always with you.
good night. | | |
| i am at a loss. yesterday, a man walked into a lutheran church in kansas and shot down george tiller. if you don't know the name, george tiller is one of about three abortionists in the country who performs late-term abortions. he has killed, literally, thousands of children. and yesterday a man decided to kill him.
violence begetting violence. tragedy reaping tragedy. the horrific act of killing a helpless child over and over again bringing about the horrific death of a man whose spirit, whether some want to admit it or not, was sprung from the heart of God.
i do not think george tiller was a good man; on a daily basis he willingly chose to shove forceps into the back of an almost-delivered child's skull until that child died. that is not the mark of a good man. that is the mark of a man who has stepped away from his Creator, who has surrendered his ablility to judge what is right and good, and who has forgotten the sacred nobility that comes with the gift of life. but it is not my place to judge the heart of a man, my place is at the feet of Jesus. that will always be my place. in the church, and in the pro-life movement. and i just wish the man who shot george tiller had found himself there--sitting at the feet of a king who knows the desires of our hearts--instead of finding himself standing in the foyer of a church in kansas, holding a gun and believing that the death of one man would conquer any small part of this world's darkness.
that has only happened one time, and that man was completely innocent. and his death didn't just conquer the darkness of abortion, it conquered all Darkness. all Death. the entire curse of sin that bends this world so far from its Father. he is our hope. he is our grace. that is where we need to operate from.
so i encourage you, church, pray for the hearts of men. pray that the lost will find hope in the eyes of Christ because without Him, there is nothing. pray for this man who chose to take the life of george tiller, and pray for the family that will go on without him.
pray church.
that is how we end abortion. that is how we open the gates of heaven here on earth and allow the river of God room enough to flow.
may the peace of the Lord be always with you,
sarah | | |
| i miss virginia this morning.
i miss disc golf in the afternoons with tim and sam, my feet bare and the sun warm on my legs. i miss egg sandwiches with dan and dinner with kathryne. i miss smoke breaks.
i miss sitting in the ridiculously cold office and looking out the window at the dark spindles of leafless trees against a gray cloud sky. i miss getting up at three in the morning to check on erin and the baby, then sitting on the couch and chatting with fresh prince in the background until he fell asleep.
i miss escaping with lee ann and sarah long enough to remember that i was still a girl. i miss stepping outside the home every morning and yelling "marco!" to the cows in the front yard. (though they never once answered "polo.") i miss playing pranks on bryan and cooking the boys spaghetti with pineapple chunks because that's all we had.
i miss denny's at midnight. i miss the post office at noon. i miss telling bryan, yet again, that being late for work every morning was not my intention, only my tendency.
i miss arguing with shawn about cleaning schedules and watching invader zim with dan. i miss making plans with the quanns, many of which never seemed to work but boy did we keep trying.
i miss driving van true, running the office, and going to the mill to pray.
i miss walks around kathryne's neighborhood and sunday mornings with the presbyterians. i miss driving all over virginia for the taste of eucharist and the fellowship of some of the most loving people i will ever know.
i miss seeing my friends everyday. i miss taking care of them, and letting them sometimes take care of me. and despite the burdens i carried while i was there, and the sorrows i'd know just after leaving, those months in virginia will always stand out. they will always be highlighted in my life's journal with a note in the margin reading: don't forget this sarah. this was important. this was God showing you that his work is inside humanity, that his eyes can be seen in a million different faces. in the helloes and the see ya laters. in the high-fives and the boyish grins. in the spontaneity of friendship.
thanks again guys. i'll see you some time or another. | | |
| there is nothing like the wind-pulsed gloom of an almost spring day to remind my hands that writing is still an option--dare i say a priority--and that vibrance still pulses through the dreary circuits of my everyday living, untapped as the energy of the sun and the salt of sea-bound abysses.
yes, we are still breathing and YES, we will always find a way to enjoy it.
EXAMPLE: tonight i climbed up on a six-foot tall metal platform to build a 32-foot fort out of toilet paper...there was no audience present, and no applause when i finished, but as i stood and gazed at its symmetry and organization, i knew it to be glorious. glorious because i built it. and glorious because THAT'S MY JOB.
no matter how much i say i hate sam's club, no matter how much i desire to leave third shift, i cannot deny the perks of my current occupation: i get to drive like a devil on a forklift, climb through the workings of (essentially) a giant connector set, and build things...all of which i have always been quite fond of doing. that is not to say i want to remain at sam's club, i still very much desire a serious career change...i am only saying that at times i really do enjoy this job, and i am very thankful that God has allowed me to have it.
now i'm going to bed. though i'd rather go to the beach. the weather is amazing outside...blustery wind and the damp comfort of spring rain...the quiet threat of sunrise...its the kind of weather a poet can love. at least this one. maybe you could go enjoy it for me.
night kids. | | |
| when i was a little girl and made to sit on the ground outside somewhere and listen to adults talk, maybe to explain a game or tell me the rules of the playground, i would play with the grass and dirt to keep myself quiet. for the grass, i would pluck up the longer pieces and tie them into tiny knots, as many as i could get, until i had effectively made a small contingency of tiny escape ropes. when that failed to entertain, i would take my finger and bore it into the ground, quietly and methodically, until i had formed a little finger-shaped ditch. the deeper i dug in, the cooler the ground felt against my skin. i liked that. it was simple and real, and it made me happy. by then the adult had normally finished up, but if they hadn't i'd return to the grass ropes, attempting to connect them into one long strand. this always failed. and i always took the failures, shoved them into the hole and covered them over with dirt. maybe i didn't want to look at them, maybe i thought the grass would grow back. i didn't really consider it at the moment. i was a child, and simple. and in that simplicity, having tired of entertaining myself, i'd stretch my legs out in front of me, prop the weight of my body against my arms and continue doing my very best to listen to the voice before me. to rediscover such, oh what peace it could bring. | | |
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