COYOTES WILL EAT YOUR FACE OFF...

"I walk slow...I walk slow. Take my hand, help me on my way home."-Mumford and Sons

As I sit in the wet (and somehow chilly?) sixty-five degree weather in California,  my snow-covered trail hikes in Colorado are a foggy memory.  It is hard to believe that I was drinking in that crisp air, and quieting my soul above timberline a mere week ago.  Last Tuesday, my friend Frankie and I headed out with our Camelbacks and vaguely cool "mountainwear" and hit the oh-so-strenuous trails of Red Rock Canyon (pretty sure we climbed at least twenty feet, and tread an unbelievable and vast...3.5 miles :-)).  Although we did pass some runners, old ladies with walking sticks, and dogs walking their paunchy owners, enough time elapsed in-between to give us the sense of embarking on an isolated wilderness excursion.

The only sounds were the steady crunch of our boots on the fleecey white blanket that hid the crimson mud and dusty trail tracks.  The sun kissed our faces, the fresh, exhilirating air infused us with a sense of joy...usually as chatty, giggly, and possibly as annoying as sanguine, pre-angsty, pre-adolscent girls, Frankie and I trudged along in a comfortable silence.  It's hard not to feel as though God is whispering through those moments, and I think we both wanted to perk up and pay attention to His quiet voice.

And then, as we made our way to a bend in the trail, about a mile from the trailhead that poured us into the canyon, Frankie spotted something...wildlife...pouncing and scampering less than a football field's length away.  Now, I definitely possess an adventurous spirit, and am a self-confessed former adrenaline junkie, but I hold a weird and overwhelming phobia that I will, one day...as I trounce through a hidden trail...be eaten by a mountain lion.  The authorities will only find my iPad, sneakers, and stock of Cliff Bars (as even mountain lions sense the chewy cardboard consistencies of these "protein bars")...or, I will survive, but as a horribly disfigured shell of my former self.  People will mock and scurry away from my presence, but I will bravely speak of God's Grace and Healing through what's left of my lips.  Thus, I have the wherewithall to know that any wildlife bigger than a fox is not something I desire to interact with, nor see without safety glass separating us.

Frankie, on the other hand, is fearless.  So, when she broke our wonderful silence with "Oh my gosh! What's that?", and took off running toward the side of the trail, I knew that nothing good could come from this.  I looked up, and saw two animals--larger than dogs, but not quite wolf-size in stature--running together, and taking notice of us. "Oh, ky-oats!!" Frankie exclaimed (she uses the "ol' prospector" pronounciation as opposed to Wile E.'s last name), and camera-ready, she began to move TOWARD them. Seriously.  TOWARD...THEM...

"Um...Frankie? I think maybe we should head back," I nervously began to backpedal as I repeated this with some urgency in my voice.  "Oh no! C'mon, Sarah--we'll be fine." She continued to approach the two coyotes, who, by this point, had most definitely taken notice of us, and were licking their chops and looking at us as if we were Simba.  Okay, those were hyenas, and this may be a slight exaggeration...but not by much.  "Dude," I said as I halted, "they're totally going to eat your face off."

 She shockingly ignored me (?!), and grew even closer to them.  I stood for a moment, wondering if I would suddenly develop a surge of adrenaline that would enable me to rip the coyotes' treacherous jaws from the face of my friend when it came time....and panicked about the survivor's guilt that was sure to follow.  But, after Frankie took myriad pictures, and safely moved ahead of the wild dogs, I had no choice but to run and join her.  And, we were...fine.  We moved far away from Wile E. and his BFF...and, because we hadn't turned back (as I would surely have done on my own), we got to delve into the heart of the canyon, and experience the cool rock formations and pre-set photo compositions that create the best part of this hike.

As I reflect on this, though, I realize a couple of things.  The truth of the matter is that if given the chance, or if provoked, coyotes will indeed, eat your face off.  The best frame of mind to sit in, in this situation, is a balanced pendulum somewhere in-between myself and Frankie.  And, I think that's true of life as well. 

 I wonder when I grew so afraid? In my rock climbing, ropes courses, kayaking, parasailing, hang-gliding, rafting, and sky-diving days, I tried to mask this fear of all by acting as reckless as possible which in and of itself is fear personified...I started this walk with God trying in vain to mask this fear, but, it also made me willing to jump off the cliff at the say-so.  And through heart wounds, betrayals, and failures...through meandering pathways and dimly-lit roads, I developed a clouded wall of fear that I have to actively and consciously poke holes in.  

But sometimes, this is healthy. This is not always a bad thing.  There are coyotes in life--situations and people--who if approached without caution and wisdom, will devour you.  The people who personify this wild animal can be family members, friends, those who tread the path with us...people who never dealt with their own fear, and project it onto others.  The situations are those that look beautiful on the surface...that we plunge into without a second thought...and then reveal their true rabid natures.  

The trick is to learn to guard your heart while simultaneously opening and exposing it.

  I worried about Frankie getting mauled, but the truth is, because I hung back and stayed paralyzed in my fear, I missed the beauty that the coyotes held. And the above photo is Frankie's, not mine.

So, I think I will keep my caution, and remember the times that I have faced my own coyotes. But, I will not allow this to prevent me from experiencing the richness of true friendship, of true love, of living Life.  I will keep my fear beside me, but not allow it to remain a monkey on my back.  By confidently walking past the coyotes, I will open myself up to the great unburdening freedom that a relationship with God offers.  I will enjoy the beauty and hardships of the hike, and I will get to the inner sanctum of the canyon.

"Amazing things appear in our lives, almost out of nowhere--landscapes, seascapes, forgiveness--and they keep happening; so many vistas and so much healing to give thanks for.  Even when we don't cooperate, blessings return to our lives, even in the aftermath of tragedy.

Things get a little better when we ask for help. People help us. Most astonishing of all, people forgive us, and we eventually forgive them.  Talk about miracles."
 -"Help. Thanks. Wow." Anne Lamott

Again, thanks for reading.  

GO. SCREAM IT FROM THE MOUNTAINS

"In this world, you WILL have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world"-John 16:33 (NIV)

I penned the above title three weeks ago, and then angrily left the blank canvas of my page...blank.  The only thing I wanted to scream from the "mountains" was "F*#@!".  I felt as though my climb toward the peak was meandering and full of bramble and dead-ends...cliffs and insurmountable boulders.  As though I could still see that majestic peak towering in the distance, but it loomed just as far out of reach as it had years before...I couldn't breathe, I couldn't lift my heavy head from my path and set my gaze upon the destination...everywhere I looked, I saw crap, and unanswered prayers (because, come on, God! Clearly, I'm on a time table here;-))...my climb felt for naught.  I prayerfully and obediently took steps but it felt as though they led off of the trail, and I felt like a failure.

I marvel at my ability to sabotage all of the goodness my God brings to my life...He has taught me time and time again that He is good--all of the time.  That TRUST means clinging onto Him, and not plunging backward into that deeply dark and painful and rancid cave of disobedience, self-loathing, self-hatred, and the grabby hands of attempt at control.  That TRUST proves itself only when there is no other option...only when self-reliance has fallen by the wayside, and nothing looks concrete, or correct, or full of light.  When I feel most alone, instead of falling into old patterns of walled-up relational sabotage, paralyzed stagnancy and doubt, these are the moments where God tells me if I cling to Him, He will make everything new.

And so, in that gross moment of despair, I wondered why I would write this blog? I had no desire to begin it in the first place? I felt led to do so, but wondered if the generalized bearing of my soul encouraged or refreshed anyone else in the process...I am not a shining example of what a consistent, deep drinking from the well looks like, and shouldn't this type of pouring through written word be reserved for encouraging words of growth, and victory? Of what blessings a sprint after Jesus results in?

 ...And then I came home to Colorado.  God has taught me such an overwhelming amount about myself, about the people he has called me to walk Life with, about His Grace, and His Bear Hug around my heart and my soul and my life...He's taught me this in seven short days, and truthfully, I've learned it before.  Many, many times, and in many, many different ways.  And truthfully, like a toddler, He will most likely bring me back to this stripped bare, painful lessons station of life many, many times in the future as well.  I haven't arrived, and although I grow and change in some ways, I will still shoulder the chains of my broken self in some fashion throughout this journey.  But, I guess the freedom, and the exhiliration, and the true connectedness with others, and the intimate moments with the God who Loves me (Oh! How He Loves Me So) comes from accepting this, and letting it go--day-to-day, minute-to-minute...and for the souls (like my own) that cannot get out of their own way, sometimes second-to-second.

As I write this, I am mere hours away from the jaunt back to Los Angeles, and although I am not looking forward to diving back into that world, I am...at this moment...okay.  And great. And at peace.  I have struggled with self-absorbed, suicidal moments, moments where I question why my struggles seem to circle around the same issues, time and time again...why my heart can so easily bleed, and forget the great moments...how it can look to the future and forget about hope, and only remember despair, and the pain of the climb.  But, right now, I rest in the knowledge...and the confidence that my God has me. And that even if no one else reads this, or finds anything helpful in my visual wordiness, He is using this articulation to change...me.

I remember the ways in which He has reaffirmed that I am obediently stepping after Him...and, I  know that He still has me.  I know that He has called me...to my vocation, to my geographical stop for a season, to particular people, to praise Him by creating artistically--I am not in a moment where I see these affirmations, or results, and much in my life is hard right now...But I am learning to let the enormity and the sufficiency of His Love (above anything and all else) seep in--I am growing deeply in my relationship with Him, and realizing that I just.  need. to. follow....

I like the illusion of holding control, but I've proven that when I try to snag those reins, I miss out on the amazing ends that relinquishing them provides.  

"COLORADO, IS IT TOO LATE? CAN I CHANGE MY MIND AND COME HOME?"- The Flying Burrito Brothers

I hiked a still-snow-covered trail at Garden of the Gods this morning...the air crisp, the sun soothing, the atmosphere still...and as I stood facing Pikes Peak, and the white-capped Rockies, I stopped. Stopped moving. Stopped the internal dialogue. Stopped thinking about what tonight, and tomorrow, and next week, and next month will bring.  This is an almost physically painful act of volition for me to complete (those of you who know me well are giggling, as you have each experienced my conversational tangents and long-winded e-mails on many occasions--thanks for loving me even still, by the way;-)), but as friends and that annoying nudging of God at the back of my mind have urged me to do so, I did. Five minutes, but even still:-)! Those five minutes reminded me of how big my God is, of how fruitless my self-reliance is...and I knew, once again, that I would be well.

Although I moved to Los Angeles for professional reasons a little under five months ago,  I knew even initially that this was "for a season"/  not a permanent move.  But, the longing for Colorado Springs that ripped at my heart was completely unexpected.  I knew that I'd miss it a bit, but was certainly not expecting the ache that encompassed me.  

When I first moved to Colorado Springs, things were...hard and messy, to say the least.  I spent a good amount of time hating the place (I know, with such phenomenal natural surroundings, it is hard to believe that anyone other than an angsty teenager could feel this way), and could not wait to leave.  And then, a few years ago, God began (beginning, oddly enough, with a song-"(Oh!) How He Loves" by the David Crowder Band) to move in my heart and my life in new and once again, transformative, ways.  I began to form connections with healthy, non-toxic, like-minded fellow travellers, I unearthed the God-given talents I'd buried in self-defeat, and I came out of the comatose swamp in which I dwelled and began to LIVE again...and I started to Love Colorado.  But, I always had the sneaking suspicion that I wound up here due to my horrible decision-making skills, and my disobedience--that I knew I had a role to play in the film industry, but was avoiding it, and that the myriad issues and struggles I experienced in Colorado were a direct result of my brokenness.  Even through these past few years...I thought that God would say to me, if confronted, "Um...you are single, and have not progressed as far as you should have professionally, and are just now connecting to my community because your decisions suck. I'm still gonna work with you here, but know that I did not bring you to this spot...know that I roll my eyes and sigh in your general direction. Often."  In case you're wondering, this is a lie....a gross arrow to pierce my heart.

God spoke to me in a plethora o' ways over this past week, but the newest, and largest revelation? "Ah, Sarah. You don't understand...did you ever think that perhaps I was calling you to this state, to this city, to this church, to these people the whole time?  That I needed you to weed around your tree of life, and grow, and spend time away in order to teach you? ...I've been calling you here the whole time--but I needed your stubborn, defensive walls and plugged ears to open in order for you to experience this truth." Wow. Amazing. Phenomenal. True....He is not done with me in Los Angeles quite yet--even though I desperately wish He was--to pack up and come back tomorrow would rob me of the reasons He called me there in the first place--the blessings of both struggles and gifts, the open doors to solidify my writing full-time, the sturdy growth which will allow me to be used in the next steps of my journey/ allow me to feed others.  However, I don't think it will be long...I won't be coming back with a head hung, or tail between my legs... I won't come because it's hard and painful and lonely where I am...But I'll come because He's called me. And I'll come with fresh eyes. And I can't wait.  And I am ruining my make-up and grossing out fellow coffee-shop goers as I write this through a cascade of tears, so...enjoy:-).

"ALL OUR TRIALS, AND ALL OUR TEARS....GOD OUR HOPE, HE HAS OVERCOME....ALL OUR FAILURES, AND ALL OUR FEARS...GOD OUR HOPE, HE HAS OVERCOME."- "Take Heart" Hillsong




As always, thanks so much for reading...I never know what the finished pictures of these posts will look like as I sit down to paint the words, and I never expect them to be so...self-confessional.  I hope that my struggles can help inspire hope. 

Three months, three weeks in Los Angeles

"How come I end up where I started? How can I end up where I want?"-"15 Steps" Radiohead

Today, for the first time in a long while, I stopped and exhaled...As I sat on the patio of The Alcove in Los Feliz (my favorite coffeeshop, and best place to people watch), I reflected on my time here in L.A.--I am left with a growing, unexpected inward groaning for Colorado--for its beauty, the inhabitants, my "chosen" family...my community...but I know that I'm not done here yet.

 I feel as though I've accomplished so little, and then remember that I am NOT the one in control. And, as I look back, so many amazing things have occurred--I am not the same chick who started this journey, and I am so beyond grateful for that. I have to be reminded, always daily and sometimes even moment by moment, that I can NOT take the reins--that in doing so, I miss out on life-changing small moments...through laughter and joy, through tears and confusion. I have the tendency to wear the social "mask" while I retreat to that convoluted and neurotic world inside of my head. I feel alone and scared and defeated and disconnected at times, and have to force myself from that warm, but frighteningly dark cave.

I can only take baby steps to the sharp ledges that lay before me--to those small areas illuminated by my flashlight o' faith, and actively choose to trust that as I land, the light will grow beyond where I stand. At times, I trip and have no idea where I'm going--I throw the equivalent of a toddler's spiritual tantrum as I ask "why" on so many levels.  But ultimately, I'm okay. Because I KNOW that I stepped in obedience, and I continue to strive to do so. Because I've come so far from my grabby hands attempt at control, and my trembling with fear. Because regardless of who sprints out of my life, and who edges their way in--regardless of personal and professional triumphs and resounding failures...I am Loved. Completely. I am Walked Beside. Thus, I am beyond okay...I am great....Below is an essay that I wrote two weeks into my time here in So Cal--although perhaps a touch melodramatic, it encapsulates where I was, and truthfully, where I am now. I long for my "home" in Colorado, and I long for my eternal "HOME" as well. However, I am NO longer where I started, and await, breathless, for the twists and turns that lay ahead.

Again, thanks for reading- still not sure of where to go with this "self-aware" blog stuff-hope it helps someone, on some level.

TWO WEEKS IN LOS ANGELES

I walk along Hill Avenue, cloaked in safety in the midst of this clear night in Los Angeles. The Hillside Strangler and the Night Stalker both had victims here in Eagle Rock thirty some years ago, but tonight I feel awash in security and peace as I pass those departing the Eagle Rock Music Festival. I think…about nothing, really. And everything. Simultaneously. I can spy the city lights sparkling their beckoning in the distance-to the glorious and phenomenal, meaningless and empty promises that they offer, and they are eclipsed by the shadows of the Sierra Nevadas, whispering mystery and magnificence. I am amazed that coming from Colorado, I can find such beauty here…but I do.

The cacophony of jazz, punk, indie folk, and rap bands blend together down the hill at the 14^th Annual Eagle Rock Music Festival, and the enthusiasm of the various fans gives me a weird, surreal sense of community. Life happens here. LIFE happens here. Amid the grime and plasticity and the silent screams of the broken lives that weave between the streets of Eagle Rock, Silver Lake, West Hollywood, North Hollywood, Burbank, Santa Monica, etc. LIFE still sparks. And I hope.

I hope for the realization of dreams long ago dashed to the rocks. I hope for igniting my talents. I long for God to whisper through me Creatively-shining a light on His Grace as I open my arms and give of myself. Far from those I love, from familiarity, from surroundings that nourish me, I do not feel alone. I feel those in my heart as if they stand beside me. I feel excited. And I feel at peace.

As I explored the festival earlier, I almost tripped over a homeless man, passed out, and sprawled, spread eagle, on the cracked pavement pounded by countless Festival attendees. It made my heart hurt-to see his brokenness exposed like that. To gaze upon his greased hair…his leather and paper-like skin, and to watch others turn their heads in embarrassment and ignorance. In that moment, I feel so ashamed that my head grows soupy and blazing hot, because I too…walk away. Not only because I feel helpless to help this man, but in fear-fear that if I linger too long, others will discover that he is a reflection of me-that we are the same, really. Behind my fierce intelligence, amazing beauty and wit-yeah, I cannot even finish this sentence…

In reality, the difference, the ONLY difference, between he and I is that I scream and cry for help to the Only One who can truly help me and I receive answers, as he wordlessly screams and cries to the world and is met with a resounding silence. Any attempts to offer a hand of any sort will leave my own loneliness and inadequacy raw and exposed for all to see. And they will point and laugh and spit and mock. In a way, this man is braver than I could ever be…exposure is the only gift that he has left to give and he offers it willingly.

I think about him as I grow closer to my roof and bed (well, air mattress, but still)-realizing that without my Trust in God, I am only a step away from mirroring this man. And I wonder. I wonder aloud in crazy lady (“bonkers” crazy) fashion, “What the hell am I doing here? Will God really grow my talents and use me here? Was I really stepping in obedience by coming? Or will I mark this as the countless time I have failed? That the carpet of life is yanked out from under me and I am left, once again, to futilely grab at the broken pieces and mend them in some haphazard fashion?”

But, I know this time is different. I know that I am finally following a call I received eons ago. I know that my God has me. I know that like Joshua, the “mighty warrior” of the Old Testament, God has led me. God has shown Himself to me in so, so many different ways. He bear hugs me and pats me on the back to reassure me, but like Joshua, I need to be told countless times, “Do NOT be discouraged. Do NOT be dismayed.” And that “The Lord (my) God will be with me wherever I go”. I need to be told countless times a day, as in my own attempt to take the reins of my life, I forget that One much, much greater has them, and will never let go.

When I tread the looping slope of Hill Avenue three months from now, I pray that I am still wrapped in the embrace of Trust and Truth and Grace. I will still remain a mere step away from my browned and leathered hurting homeless friend, but I pray that I will look at the time elapsed and see that God has held my hand and guided me every step of the way.

TIME IS A HUNGRY, SLACK-JAWED DOG (and other lessons learned in L.A.)

BE STILL

"TIME TICKS BY; WE GROW OLDER. BEFORE WE KNOW IT, TOO MUCH TIME HAS PASSED AND WE'VE MISSED THE CHANCE TO HAVE OTHER PEOPLE HURT US. TO A YOUNGER ME, THIS SOUNDED LIKE LUCK; TO AN OLDER ME, THIS SOUNDS LIKE A QUIET TRAGEDY." -"LIFE AFTER GOD" DOUGLAS COUPLAND

The addage my father shared with me, when I was debating whether or not to live and work in Amsterdam at the ripe old age of 22 (um, nope-not in a Red Light window, and not in a "kofeeshop";-)), was: "When you're young, you have the time and energy, but not the money. When you're middle-aged, you have the money and the energy, but not the time. And when you're old, you have the money and the time, but not the energy." The lesson I gleaned from these words was that when one is faced with a decision on where to purposefully invest life...on whether or not to embark on "great adventures"...or to spend time with friends and loved ones...to open up in vulnerability to the awesome love and heartaches of this world...is that there is always an excuse to keep one's self firmly anchored in the cesspool of stagnancy and safety. 

I currently swim in that murky middle ground somewhere between true youth and middle-age-most of my friends have settled down, birthed bundles of diaper-clad joy, have purchased homes...this has not been the case in my life as of yet, and although I sometimes bemoan that, it has allowed me to make choices and take risks that would otherwise be unavailable to me. But the one truth that keeps us collectively wringing our hands is that we all find that time is a great eater of forgotten promises, unmet goals, blinking and finding that another year has passed--time is NOT our friend and does not extend itself based on our wishes.
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I arrived in Los Angeles 13 weeks ago. Since then, I've experienced things great enough to awaken an urge to shout my "barbaric yawp from the mountaintops" and things difficult enough to make me want to hit myself with a two-by-four--just to dull the inner angst. But so many of the goals I felt confident I could tackle in that period still sit dusty on a shelf, and it feels as if I just unpacked, laid down for one restless sleep, and awoke to find myself in another season, another year. And I wonder how much more I could connect, and LIVE, and accomplish if I stopped allowing that hound dog of time to nip at my heels-if I turned and embraced it, and let it lick me in the face instead? We are made to learn our greatest lessons when we slow down...But I act as if the past does not exist, and like the future is still limitless-by hurrying and filling my days with fluff rather than substance, by saving resolution of the hard issues until...later, by not allowing myself to "be still". I guess this isn't as much of a lesson as it is a question I'm currently posing to myself...

LESSON 2- SIT BACK AND RELAX--ENJOY THE SHOW

One of the coolest things about living in this creative genius of a city is the "mellow" attitude that exudes from all corners and from all types of people. Whether or not it's pretense, the boulders of stress almost visualized on the citizens of East Coast cities, the purposeful isolated direction found in passers-by in the cities of the Rocky Mountains-none of that exists here. People are friendly and easy-going, and at least attempt to advertise that they sit back and enjoy the view once in awhile. Sure there's inner turmoil behind many of those masks, but the collective attitude of friendly mellowness is pervasive.

When I interned out here some odd years ago (more than two, less than twenty;-)), and lived in an apartment enclave known as a "mecca" for Young Hollywood, I found many of the "industry-types" that I met to be off-putting and insincere and full of personal agendas. I am not sure if it is just that I am older, and much more confident in who I am (although, overflowing with self-esteem? Yeah, not so much:-)), or if the culture here has shifted. But, I do not find that to be the case this go around. In the plethora of actors and directors and writers and musicians and producers whom I've met, I find down-to-earth, phenomenal souls who share my creative heartbeat. I've left each of these encounters feeling better for it, and it inspires me to keep creating-even in those moments of self-doubt. It makes me realize that whether I stay here, or journey back to Colorado there is absolutely NOTHING that I'd rather do, nothing else that makes me feel more as if I, individually, can make a difference in this world. And although I am impassioned about many things, a life without the ability to create an artistic output is not a life that I ever again want to live.

LESSON 3-THE HOMELESS TAKE DEBIT, AND I KNOW HOW THE "YEAH, YEAH, YEAHS" GOT THEIR NAME

I'm not sure if homelessness is any more pervasive here then it is elsewhere, but it is just as heartbreaking. Thus, I always feel my heart tighten and my thoughts jumble when I encounter a homeless person...anywhere. I'm never sure what to do--I know money, even for those who will not spend it on booze or drugs, is never the answer. And, it's easy for me to say "no", as I am sorely lacking in that department as well. However, I know that I am called to love these people, and acknowledge that we are all a part of the same sweaty, broken, heaping, beautiful mess called humanity. So, when I saw the same scruffy, toothless man begging for change at a highway on-ramp for three consecutive days, I decided that if he approached my car, I needed to acknowledge him-to express my sympathy for his plight, and to tell him that I'd pray for him. He did, and I did. As I spoke with him, I prayed that God would somehow use my words...to speak love...as a salve. Yup, I felt so f-ing holy while those golden words flowed from my lips. I told him that I did not have any money for him, however. "That's cool," he replied through cracked lips. "Um, I'll actually be here for another five hours, if you wanna go to an ATM and then come back." I felt holy when I told him to get a job, too (I didn't actually say this, but I thought it and other nasty, judgemental things). The homeless are more aggressive here. Again, not so much a lesson as an observation, I suppose.

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* When one thinks of Southern California venacular, the most immediate thoughts are of blonde, vaccuous surfers who spew the word "brah", and sometimes "bro", with intensity. This is rare, and for the most part, the So Calians speak like the rest of us ("the" highway names notwithstanding). However, the award for "Most overused phrase in the Southern Californian Venacular goes to..." 'Yeah, yeah, yeah'". As in, "'Hey, do you know Colton?' 'Oh, Colton! Yeah, yeah, yeah'," or, "'David, are you gonna eat the rest of that sandwich?' 'Huh? Oh! Yeah, yeah, yeah." One "yeah" would suffice, and no one can tell me why the three are forever linked...why not two? Or perhaps, four? 

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A disjointed departure for this blog to say the least, but it is where my jumbled mind and fingers led...As always, thanks for reading, and again, any and all feedback is welcome.

TRUST

"I still believe, though these cracks you'll see...when I'm on my knees I still believe."- "Holland Road"-Mumford & Sons

The father and his three small children lumbered down the rolling hill in back of the lake house, eager to plunge into the warm, crystalline waters that beckoned like a loving mother calling her children home. The kids giggled as they dropped towels, tripped, and rolled toward the precipice that hung over the water. The old, rambling house-more of a cabin, really, did not have a dock or a pier-the only way to enjoy the lake was to jump from a gnarled old, decayed and splintered oak tree that snarled from the precipice.

As all four neared the edge, the barrel-chested father effortlessly dove in. The children held their breath, as they anxiously awaited his surfacing. He emerged, laughing and looked to his offspring with kindness and a desire for them to join him. The oldest boy, a weed of an eleven-year old-all limbs and blond hair that grew unruly inches with each waking moment-pressed his back up against the tree in fear.  "Come in, son," the father bellowed in laughter, "It's amazing! Trust me-I won't let anything happen to you." The son's fear melted into courage, and he jumped. Although he skinned his knee as he landed on a mossy rock, he threw his hands around his father's neck, and tittered with excitement. 

The nine year old boy, a condensed version of the eldest, took his brother's place at the tree, and stood anxiously. "How do I know I won't get hurt?!", he demanded. "You don't," his father replied gently, "But know that if you do, I will make it better. And, the recovery from your injury will help you to become less afraid-of jumping again, and of swimming through this beautiful lake." Unconvinced, the boy backed up to the split in the tree, as dirt and rubble launched carelessly from the hillside.

The father, still smiling at his scared son, turned to his brother. "I think I may need your help with this one," he whispered mischieviously. "But, you're our dad? If you can't make him do it, how can I help? I was scared too-I only got in because I stopped looking down, and just looked at you. If I didn't see you, I'd still be up there too," the boy replied.  The father gave his son a playful noogie, and threw his arm around his shoulder, "That's just what will convince him. You're right-I'm 'dad'. He thinks that I'm not scared of anything! But when he knows that you were just as afraid, and that you now could never imagine not enjoying this lake, he'll be convinced...that he'll be okay...that the jump will be well worth it."

And so, the boy shared his fear with his younger brother, and smiled as he told him, "You're my brother. I love you and won't let you drown. And once you're in here, you've got Dad! He'll look out for us both, and will help me to look out for you." The nine-year old shook his head in hesitation, but as his father opened his arms toward his son, the boy was no longer afraid, and in he went. 

The trio splashed and horsed-around, as the youngest, a wisp of a seven year-old girl, made her way to the tree's base. She nervously chewed on the end of her braid, and looked down toward the water. "Come in!," the brothers cried in unison. "It's so much fun, Sam! And Dad won't let anything happen to you!" In a split second of bravery, the girl edged to the base of the tree, but when she saw her father and brothers moving further along in the water, her fear erupted like a volcano, and she jumped up to the hanging branch of the oak, where she hung, clinging to its peeling bark.

Her brothers pled with, taunted, and finally, cajouled her, but continued to play and swim. Her father gingerly glided toward the bottom of the precipice, and closer to his daughter. "Ah, Sam. Trust me. You and your brothers are in this together-they'll help you, and I will protect you." Sam began to cry-a heart-rending, snot-producing cry. "They WON'T help me! They-they said they would, but as soon as I needed them, they forgot about me! They're having fun, and they don't care that I'm scared. They don't care that I'm alone." 

The father made his way to the steep embankment, and began the climb up toward his little girl. She continued to cry, and began to lose her hold on the tree, cutting her hands and knees in the process. So, consumed with fear, she concentrated on her grip and did not see her father coming behind her. "I-I wanna come in, but I'm scared. And I need you, Daddy-I can't do this all by myself!" The snot continued to fly, the tears cascading, and  Sam concentrated all of her energy on holding on to the gnarled, old and dead tree, as her father appeared behind her. Sam's misery consumed her, and she still could not see him. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I wanna trust you, but I'm scared I'll get hurt. I'm scared no one will help me. I'm scared you'll leave me alone to drown."

At that moment, the father reached the tree and tenderly grabbed his daughter as he bathed her in kisses, and cried with her. "It's okay, Sam. It's okay. You're my daughter-I love you more than anything in this world, and though your brothers may mess up from time to time, and may leave you-I will never, ever leave you. And I want you to be able to enjoy the lake, too!" And with that, he hugged and squeezed her, and, placing her on his back, dove back into the lake.

It is a %$#@ cold winter in Los Angeles

Well, 2013 is upon us...fifteen years ago, I would have assumed I'd be in my hovercraft with my beautiful, gloriously witty, artistic, godly, adventurous and rugged, studly husband (okay, honestly? still would love to meet him), along with our 2.5 kids, en route to Jupiter to direct and star in my feature film, using one camera that shoots simultaneous angles and acts as a handheld, static, dolly, etc. um...yeah, that's a complete fabrication, but as we imagine life, and project our futures, with time it becomes painfully obvious that the winding path will take us in directions, and through detours, that we have never imagined.

My sandpapered eyes and aching muscles are still in recovery mode from New Year's Eve-not because I "partied it up", or bonded with loved ones...but as a result of working the bar gig that I took to supplement my writing income. 'Never thought I'd say that again...it is weirdly, illogically okay, however.  Re-embracing the creative path that has always ignited my passion, placed the fire in my belly, and stood as my true calling means that in humility, I must open myself up to whatever will enable me to fully realize and utilize my talents in ways that will best serve others. This bramble-covered rocky hike began two years ago, and my oh my, what a crazy trek up the mountain.

In the past two years... I have traversed the country-from the protective,velvet towers of the Rockies, to the Atlantic, to the suburbs of Washington, DC, back to the "purple mountain majesties", and now, the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles, while I escape to the Pacific to inhale, and gingerly dip my toes in the cooling waters of perspective... I quit my well-paying job, gave up my apartment, left those whom had become my "chosen" family...saw and re-connected with old friends along the way, spent months in the nostalgic gaudiness of my childhood vacation spot on Maryland's Eastern Shore...worked a film festival...got paid to write a feature film...got behind the camera/ in a director's booth for the first time in years...re-ignited my love for/ hobby of photography...hunkered down in the eye of a hurricane...grew deep relationships with the small, bottomless pits of wonder that are my nephews and nieces...spent time facing and resolving childhood issues/ grew closer with my parents...imprisoned in my car, watched in horror as apocalyptic-like flames licked my beloved mountain town...had 9.11 flashbacks as chunks of molten ash fell on my car, and cell phone lines were cleared for emergency use only...helped those who experienced huge loss sift through the ashes of their lives-both literally and figuratively-in ways that grew me and taught me the true meaning of love and hope and strength ...discovered that yes, it is important to purposefully reach out to new and untried people and as a result, found unexpected amazing friendships...grew closer with old friends....drifted away from others...realized that my U-Haul of a romantic past notwithstanding, love may still find me...drank, in full, the beauty in the nature surrounding me-marveled as I ran, breathless up and down the sides of mountains, and in various 5Ks while realizing that metaphorically, this is also how I am called to live life.

I've laughed so hard that I've peed myself, and wept so deeply that I thought my heart would break...I've been insecure, self-loathing, and trembling with fear, and I have been confident, at peace, hopeful, and full of love...I've wondered if God walks beside me, and in those very moments, have felt Him scoop me into His arms...

Thus, as I sleep on a deflating air mattress on a rock hard wooden floor, and I spend my hours writing for a pittance, or working grueling late night hours...as I miss Colorado and its beauty, and my friends, and my community there...it's all okay! I know this moment is temporary, and my time here in LA, and here on Earth may be also...But I've seen glimpses of what this future holds, I walk tentative steps wherever I see a sliver of light illuminating the path, and it is...a....maz...ing. And I just want to be a part of it. I want to take a swan dive into the sea of Life, and know that there will be moments where I cut myself on the corral, inhale too much water and choke up phlegm (yum!), befriend a dolphin that transforms into a shark...but those things are what make the lulling roar of the waves, the cleansing of the water, the colors of the schools of fish all the more beautiful...and, just when I think I'll drown, I get thrust back to the surface and regain my breath.

Wow-this is so not what I intended to write today-I was imagining a post full of biting and clever wit on the ins and outs of LA (maybe that's the next one?) but it's where my God and my fingers took me... Is this just sanctimonious drivel? I certainly hope not. As always, thanks for reading, and I appreciate any and all feedback-blogging is a foggy world for me, and I am still just trying to feel my way through it.
                                                          10,000 REASONS

JOY IN DA LIGHT

"*de-light (di-'lit)vb- 1. to take great pleasure or joy in 2.: to be satisfied greatly by" (Merriam-Webster)
"He rescued me because He delighted in me."-Psalm 18:19 (NIV)

By a show of hands, how many of you have felt consistently "delighted" in? ...No, really? Truly? Delighted in? No one can see you, it's alright to be honest-put your hands down.
...To the two of you who still proudly wave your hands in the air, like you just don't care- kudos! What an amazing way to cuddle with life and walk through your days. For the rest of us, the word "delighted" invokes images of Grandmas "aaawing" and "ooooing" over grade school macaroni art-work, characters from romantic comedies circa 1953 exclaiming their awe of their surroundings or a new love interest: "Oh James! You...are...delightful...", or, in my case, Will Farrell as James Lipton on SNL: "'Perhaps the greatest actor of all times...Dustin Diamond, as 'Screech' on 'Saved by the Bell' is..dee...light...ful." We may soak in moments of Love, but spend much time swimming in our own stagnant cesspool of shortcomings and insecurities, and that truth feels more like a concept or a dangling carrot-not something to which we have eternal access.

Imagine telling your child, "I will only take great joy in you if you clean your room...if you stop hitting your sister...if you wash behind your ears", or, for those of us sans kids, to a soulmated loved one, "Um, yep-if you lose twenty pounds...if you buy me gifts daily...if you never challenge any of my thoughts or feelings...then I will take great joy in you." We don't tell our closest friends "You must agree with everything that I say, and never let me down, and constantly tell me how awesome I am." Our relationships would never enter the richness of intimacy or shine with unconditional love if these limits were placed.  And each of us has experienced a broken relationship where these rules were given-leaving us with broken holes and refurbished "walls against vulnerability" as a result. And yet, many of us operate as if this is true of God-as if He says, "I WILL delight in you if..."

As a follower of Christ since my teenaged years, I never, ever conceptualized that my Creator, my Father DELIGHTS in me....I understood His Love as a general concept, and knew this was true for so many of His followers...but me? Broken, stumbling, bruised Sarah? No way. I'd experienced hard and dark places-from my own doing and from the hands of others-darkness that must have tainted even Christ's image of me, right? And, so many of the "bottoms" I'd hit in life came after I began a relationship with Him. Ah, don't get me started on before-before, I was a selfish, sensitive, attention-seeking, insecure, boy-crazy teenager.

 However, over the past two years, God has seen fit to hammer this truth into the marrow of my being, and it has freed me up and drawn me into a deeper well of TRUTH and relationship with Him-the only constant, unchanging Source. Do you want to know the most amazing aspect of this verse? Sweet, I will totally share! The most amazing thing about this verse, and about who God is...He rescued me (and you, and offers this to you, who still seek) because He delightED in me...before I knew Him-while I still followed my own broken path, while I still lived only for myself. He took great JOY in me because He had made me. And this continues to be true-today, when I am feeling down and defeated and sad and broken...yesterday, when I felt hopeful and excited and close to Him and loving toward others...This truth means that I (and you) NEVER have to stay in the dark, dank place where we feel unwanted and unloved and scared-that we need only to remember that God's gift to us is the Grace of Delight, and that eventually, as we choose to see this delight in: an awesome sunset, drinking in the exhiliration of beauty in nature,  an authentic and deep chat with a friend, a new moment with a spouse, the goofiness of a young child, the insolence of a teenager, the annoying habits of a parent, an especially creative moment, loving those around us who do not know Him- eventually, it will become easier for us to  know daily...to know moment by moment that HE DELIGHTS IN US and that this joy, this delight offers an unburdening of all that drags us down. It spurs us on to step out into the great unknown (where He often leads us-I sometimes hate God's sense of humor), to forgive those who let us down and to still love them, to work on repairing broken relationships, to throw all of our "unlovable" baggage in the dumpster (even as it resurfaces), and to allow God to use us in the lives of others. It helps me to see passed my own messy heart, and to see His work with an alarming rate of frequency. It stills me and helps me to hear His quiet whispers. It calms me, and gives me peace about the fact that I could fall, flat on my face, out here in Los Angeles-away from those whom I love and the "home" in my heart/ only geographic home I've forged as an adult-but that's okay! Because He delights in me, and is with me-and that will be true if I return to Colorado, or am called to a film location to Zimbabwe, or if I remain in Los Angeles for the rest of my life. There are still moments where the delight feels more like a sentiment from James Lipton or Grandma-there are times where my heart hurts and I am lonely and I am suffocated by my own "Much Afraid" self-absorbed mess-but even in those moments...he...delights...in...me. After much rambling, I guess my challenge to each of you reading is this: Ask yourself if you believe that you are delighted in? And if not, start believing! Because it's true! And if it is true for someone like Sarah Paris, then it is most definitely true for you. Don't live...LIVE like you are delighted in. And watch that small step of faith change your world.

In closing, a good friend shared this John Lynch quote (from his book, "On My Worst Day") with me months ago, and the printed, dog-eared and crumpled page has not left my pocket since-when I falter, I just read and say "thanks". I invite you to do the same.

“The most darkness-defying risk a human can take is to believe that in even this moment, the following is true. In my freshly proven shame, I want to turn away from it. But to do so is to deny the reason Jesus went to the cross. To do so will cripple me. So here it is. This is true about John Lynch, at this particular moment…On my worst day I am:
…Adored, enjoyed, delighted in, clean, holy, righteous, absolutely forgiven, new, beautiful, acceptable, complete, Spirit indwelled, chosen, adopted, able, intimately loved, smiled upon, planned for, protected, continually thought about, enjoyed, cared for, comforted, understood, known completely, given all mercy, compassion, guarded, matured, bragged on, defended, valued, esteemed, held, hugged and caressed, kissed, heard, honored, in unity with, favored, enough, on time, lacking nothing, directed, guided continually, never failed, waited for, anticipated, part of, belonging, never alone, praised, secure, safe, believed, appreciated, given all grace, all patience, at peace with, pure, shining, precious, cried over, grieved with, strengthened, emboldened, drawn kindly to repentance, relaxed with, never on trial, never frowned at, never hit with a 2 by 4, delighted in, at rest in, receiving complete access, given gifts, given dreams, given new dreams, continually healed, nurtured, continually sheltered from the full brunt of devastation, taken shame from, carried, never mocked, never punished, almost all of my jokes enjoyed, not behind, not outside, given endless affection.

Doesn’t much feel like it at the moment. But that’s how the gig works. That’s the depth of His love, whether you or I feel I deserve it or not. Deserve has long ago left the building.”

Thanks for reading. Happy New Year.

"Stretch out my life and rip the seams out"- Mumford and Sons

Ah, I am very new to the world o' blogging-which is shocking to most who know me well, given my passion for writing and sharing longwinded articulations with any who can stand to listen. However, about a month ago, I felt overwhelmingly "led" to start a blog...one that will give me a platform to share my thoughts on God, Grace, Faith, Life, Brokenness, and the beautiful mess that encompasses who I am. Hopefully, there will be universal truth, honesty, and authenticity shared in the spaces between my words. At times, humor will abound, and at others, the exposure of my heart will most likely come across as raw...'No proselytizing, as there are many whom I love that do not share my belief in and love for Jesus Christ. But, His life is the reason for my own, so I will not be offended by those of you who choose not to read as, inevitably, that part of my story will color all that I have to share. I'll try to master this blogging platform, and hope to post every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday (with the possibility of more frequency)...

I hope that I will help others to understand their insides as I struggle to comprehend my own. For now, thanks for reading thus far, feel free to share good and bad feedback, and I have no idea where this journey will lead, but I'd love for you to take it with me!

NEXT..."He rescued me because He delighted in me."-Psalm 18:19