Wow! Can you believe we only have 2 days left of August?!?!?!?! Absolutely crazy.
Well, I'm wide awake this morning while Sam, Maya, and Gus are snoozing. I LOVE mornings...especially peaceful & quiet mornings! :)
Thank you all so much for your prayers and support lately. All the phone calls and emails...very much appreciated. And yes, things have been going, albeit gradually, better!
Sam & I are both on vacation...WOOHOO!!! We had so many things we wanted to do and so many people we wanted to see. But we have made the final conclusion that it would be best for us to just stay at home and...CLEAN!!! What better way to spend a vacation, right? lol NOT. But, it needs to be done, as we have lots of rearranging to do.
Not sure about the post office yet...I will find out my new schedule this week, so please be in prayer that I will manage to get assigned to a daytime slot! Sam will be starting 3rd shift very soon, and with my hatred of nighttime, it's likely to be a big challenge.
Steph's wedding is quickly approaching! I'm excited for her shower...I'm looking forward to seeing everyone...we're going to have so much fun! :)
Okay, well I hear my little bear growling so I'm going to sign off for now. Can't wait for church this morning...and I hope you can't, either!
Big Love,
Sarah
8.30.2009
8.23.2009
Hi, guys. I know it's been awhile...please excuse my absence.
So, how ya doin'? I really hope this post finds you having a magnificent day. To be honest with you, my day started out pretty rough but has faded to a quiet, peaceful evening.
Some of you may be aware (and those of you who aren't, I'm filling you in) that my depression & panic attacks have recently worsened, and it's by no other method than the power of prayer and the mighty, healing hands of the awesome God I serve that I'm even able to compose my thoughts to type this.
Today was another day spent in bed with a migraine. And, along with the migraine medicine comes panic...not sure what the trigger is, but it's guaranteed to happen every time I take one of those pills. Once I woke up, I was in a full blown attack, and needed to see my uncle; I have particular people who can help me thru these horrible whirlwinds, and he is one of them. So Sam dropped me off before heading to church, and it was a good evening spent with family, of course, after my meltdown was over. Please keep me and my family in your prayers--we need you.
I'm seeing another psychotherapist now, along with my psychiatrist, both of whom I absolutely love. But, I must admit that sometimes it really breaks my heart to be in those offices as a client; I remember a time in the past when I was going to school to be on of them...not one of me. It's during those times that I just have to take a deep breath and realize that I'm very sick, and it's important for me to get better...for myself, for my husband, for my babies, and for my family. I have to remember that God has me in this situation for a very specific reason...and it's not really necessary for me to understand why at this point.
What lies ahead is unbeknownst to me. We're leaning towards the recommendation from my therapist to get a therapy dog...but once I apply, I will be on a 12-18 month waiting list. Maybe I'll be miraculously healed by then!
Anyways, I know this probably isn't my typical silly or uplifting post, but it's just how things are right now. Know that I love you all very much and appreciate your prayers and support.
Big Love,
Sarah
So, how ya doin'? I really hope this post finds you having a magnificent day. To be honest with you, my day started out pretty rough but has faded to a quiet, peaceful evening.
Some of you may be aware (and those of you who aren't, I'm filling you in) that my depression & panic attacks have recently worsened, and it's by no other method than the power of prayer and the mighty, healing hands of the awesome God I serve that I'm even able to compose my thoughts to type this.
Today was another day spent in bed with a migraine. And, along with the migraine medicine comes panic...not sure what the trigger is, but it's guaranteed to happen every time I take one of those pills. Once I woke up, I was in a full blown attack, and needed to see my uncle; I have particular people who can help me thru these horrible whirlwinds, and he is one of them. So Sam dropped me off before heading to church, and it was a good evening spent with family, of course, after my meltdown was over. Please keep me and my family in your prayers--we need you.
I'm seeing another psychotherapist now, along with my psychiatrist, both of whom I absolutely love. But, I must admit that sometimes it really breaks my heart to be in those offices as a client; I remember a time in the past when I was going to school to be on of them...not one of me. It's during those times that I just have to take a deep breath and realize that I'm very sick, and it's important for me to get better...for myself, for my husband, for my babies, and for my family. I have to remember that God has me in this situation for a very specific reason...and it's not really necessary for me to understand why at this point.
What lies ahead is unbeknownst to me. We're leaning towards the recommendation from my therapist to get a therapy dog...but once I apply, I will be on a 12-18 month waiting list. Maybe I'll be miraculously healed by then!
Anyways, I know this probably isn't my typical silly or uplifting post, but it's just how things are right now. Know that I love you all very much and appreciate your prayers and support.
Big Love,
Sarah
8.06.2009
Thankful Thursday
Not sure why I'm putting up such a fight with my anxiety this week...but it's taking its toll on me, that's for sure.
And it's not just me--the ripples touch everyone around me; and that makes me even more sad to see those around me dealing with my problem.
Today I'm thankful for pictures and cherished memories.
Hangin' on to Jesus 'cause I'm shakin' like a leaf,
Sarah
8.05.2009
Okay, gang-
Get a refill, this one's--waitaminit. Let me get the wavy chip off the keyboard where I dropped it. There's some passion in this one and it's hard to sit still. Here- I just brewed a pot of med-dark roast. Slide your mug on over here.
:)
It's just an ugly, regular mug that probably got picked up in a garage sale. It started out in a set, but time passed. Black isn't stylish any more; nobody wants black. And white? Oh, right: "Pure, clean, pristine, sparkly, who-do-you-think-YOU-are". It doesn't belong with all the snazzy, popular bright-colored ones. With logos. Brand names. The odd, ugly mug doesn't belong. Just ask the others; they'll tell you and everybody else.
The mug's story doesn't matter because the snazzy, regular, popular ones aren't interested. They've already made up their own and are busily assuring eveything else in the cupboard is hearing it. The ugly mug's real one only has a single use: ammo for the blabbing of the rest up in the cupboard.
I have one comment regarding that ugly, black mug.
It holds just as much great joe as any of the others and it loves refills.
"Whew! You were on a rant with that'n. Glad you've got that outta your system; it was getting a little close to meddling and you did promise that your articles would always lift, encourage, edify and challenge."
Right. I do a lot of the first three. Pay attention to the fourth. Not done here. Now comes this week's challenge.
Lakota Sioux warriors handmade their own hunting and warbows from seasoned ash wood. There's two ways to get seasoned ash wood: the easiest is to find a nice, well-shaped ash tree, cut it down and wait 5 years or more for it to dry. But the Lakota senior warriors were always watching for a rare mature ash tree that had been struck by lightning. When lightning hits an ash tree - any tree - it's instantly dried and cured by the jaw-dropping energy of the lightning. Any bows made from that tree would be way stronger.
Trees like this are hard to find, but the Sioux warriors treasured lightning-dried ash bows. Why? They'd taken the worst that the elements could put on them and survived - and weathering the worst makes anything tougher and stronger.
Think of it this way. Here's you bopping down the avenue, brand new threads from Burlington Coat Factory on board, Tommy Bahama shades in place, scoping out the '09 Challenger tooling past. Next blink here's you, smoldering and stinking mess, soles of your Asics melted in a puddle and you embarrassingly threadbare, tendrils of noxious smoke curling upward as the singular remaining clue that you were a second ago fully clothed and sort of in your right mind.
See, lightning can travel at speeds up to 130 THOUSAND mph, and up to 54 THOUSAND degrees F. There's no getting ready for a lightning strike, is what I'm trying to tell you. What happens, happens and you just deal with the effects.
From my little mug lesson, you might have an idea where this is going. But hang with me. There's a reason I have not one, but TWO stories. Like Tennessee Ernie used to sing, "If the right one don't getcha, well, the left one will..."
You can't tell from looking what kind of strikes have happened in another's life, any more than they can tell that about yours. That's really the whole point, but let me belabor it a bit. It's reasonable to think that because of significant lightning strikes in one's own life there would be a large margin of charity in his dealings with others. Experience seems to indicate to the contrary.
Does God really need to dunk a person, say, weekly in a major lightning strike to get them to lighten up on others whose lives bear the marks of their own? You know what it feels like, don't you? Any kind of strike (Sudden Traumatic Reality Indicating Kinetic Effort) in one's life gets immediate attention.
You can't see all the effects of lightning strikes in others' lives, but you can tell they've happened - just like you can tell a lightning-struck ash tree. Sooty, blown-to-ugly and blast-blackened. Broken stumps where once was beauty. Not pretty, just like that ugly old black coffee mug.
But to the discerning, there's just as much value in the gnarled, split blackened parts of another's life as there is to Lakota warriors in a lightning-struck ash tree. That's why some others try to mimic the look of ugliness without having the experience to back it up. Remember all those 'testimony' services in all those churches? Often sounded like a contest to see who had the scrungiest life. Nunh. That ain't victory, folks.
Nobody in their right mind celebrates the lightning strikes of life. What we celebrate - or ought to - is the strength, toughness and resolve - and healing - that arose within following the smoking, putrid aftermath.
Can you do that? That's the challenge, friend. Take a good look around you; there are some lives within your sphere of influence who show the unmistakable signs of some of life's sudden, fiery strikes. You can either appreciate, celebrate and encourage them - or you can join the snazzy cups with logos on 'em and put the ugly ones down, disappointing and maybe discouraging them from letting God do more wonderful stuff in their lives.
You can help them on their way or you can get in their way, because as in everything you have a choice.
One or two of you might be feeling a little like the ugly mug. You've had your share of the old 130,000-mph, 54,000-degree wake-ups and you're growing through them. And there're others who ought to know better who're making fun of you, snickering and talking.
I have one thing to say about that.
When Lakota warriors wanted a superior bow, they went looking for an ugly, burned lightning-struck tree; when God wants a superior servant, He goes looking for men and women who've taken the worst life could throw at them, wiped away the blood and tears, and through faith are the tougher and stronger for it.
"Um, God? Suddenly I'm not so sure I want to be up in the cupboard. Just leave me down here on the counter where folks can take a nourishing, comforting drink now and then. And black's just fine. You say in the back of The Book that eventually all of us who're following you will ALL wear beautiful, shining white. So whatever color, shape and style You want for me is fine. I'd rather be used than looked at, and when they look at me, I want 'em to see You. Oh--and, God? Thanks for the strikes; they're not fun, but I'm tougher and more seasoned because of 'em. You make out of me whatever You can use to help in the lives of others."
Amen.
Loving you,
Dan
Thanks to Dan for being a guest on my blog, although I'm sure he isn't even aware I posted this email...
I just wanted to share this with all of you today. I hope it speaks to you as much as it spoke to me. I truly appreciate Dan's effort to lift, encourage, edify, and challenge. What if ALL of us made an effort to do that every single day?!
Big Love,
Sarah
Get a refill, this one's--waitaminit. Let me get the wavy chip off the keyboard where I dropped it. There's some passion in this one and it's hard to sit still. Here- I just brewed a pot of med-dark roast. Slide your mug on over here.
:)
It's just an ugly, regular mug that probably got picked up in a garage sale. It started out in a set, but time passed. Black isn't stylish any more; nobody wants black. And white? Oh, right: "Pure, clean, pristine, sparkly, who-do-you-think-YOU-are". It doesn't belong with all the snazzy, popular bright-colored ones. With logos. Brand names. The odd, ugly mug doesn't belong. Just ask the others; they'll tell you and everybody else.
The mug's story doesn't matter because the snazzy, regular, popular ones aren't interested. They've already made up their own and are busily assuring eveything else in the cupboard is hearing it. The ugly mug's real one only has a single use: ammo for the blabbing of the rest up in the cupboard.
I have one comment regarding that ugly, black mug.
It holds just as much great joe as any of the others and it loves refills.
"Whew! You were on a rant with that'n. Glad you've got that outta your system; it was getting a little close to meddling and you did promise that your articles would always lift, encourage, edify and challenge."
Right. I do a lot of the first three. Pay attention to the fourth. Not done here. Now comes this week's challenge.
Lakota Sioux warriors handmade their own hunting and warbows from seasoned ash wood. There's two ways to get seasoned ash wood: the easiest is to find a nice, well-shaped ash tree, cut it down and wait 5 years or more for it to dry. But the Lakota senior warriors were always watching for a rare mature ash tree that had been struck by lightning. When lightning hits an ash tree - any tree - it's instantly dried and cured by the jaw-dropping energy of the lightning. Any bows made from that tree would be way stronger.
Trees like this are hard to find, but the Sioux warriors treasured lightning-dried ash bows. Why? They'd taken the worst that the elements could put on them and survived - and weathering the worst makes anything tougher and stronger.
Think of it this way. Here's you bopping down the avenue, brand new threads from Burlington Coat Factory on board, Tommy Bahama shades in place, scoping out the '09 Challenger tooling past. Next blink here's you, smoldering and stinking mess, soles of your Asics melted in a puddle and you embarrassingly threadbare, tendrils of noxious smoke curling upward as the singular remaining clue that you were a second ago fully clothed and sort of in your right mind.
See, lightning can travel at speeds up to 130 THOUSAND mph, and up to 54 THOUSAND degrees F. There's no getting ready for a lightning strike, is what I'm trying to tell you. What happens, happens and you just deal with the effects.
From my little mug lesson, you might have an idea where this is going. But hang with me. There's a reason I have not one, but TWO stories. Like Tennessee Ernie used to sing, "If the right one don't getcha, well, the left one will..."
You can't tell from looking what kind of strikes have happened in another's life, any more than they can tell that about yours. That's really the whole point, but let me belabor it a bit. It's reasonable to think that because of significant lightning strikes in one's own life there would be a large margin of charity in his dealings with others. Experience seems to indicate to the contrary.
Does God really need to dunk a person, say, weekly in a major lightning strike to get them to lighten up on others whose lives bear the marks of their own? You know what it feels like, don't you? Any kind of strike (Sudden Traumatic Reality Indicating Kinetic Effort) in one's life gets immediate attention.
You can't see all the effects of lightning strikes in others' lives, but you can tell they've happened - just like you can tell a lightning-struck ash tree. Sooty, blown-to-ugly and blast-blackened. Broken stumps where once was beauty. Not pretty, just like that ugly old black coffee mug.
But to the discerning, there's just as much value in the gnarled, split blackened parts of another's life as there is to Lakota warriors in a lightning-struck ash tree. That's why some others try to mimic the look of ugliness without having the experience to back it up. Remember all those 'testimony' services in all those churches? Often sounded like a contest to see who had the scrungiest life. Nunh. That ain't victory, folks.
Nobody in their right mind celebrates the lightning strikes of life. What we celebrate - or ought to - is the strength, toughness and resolve - and healing - that arose within following the smoking, putrid aftermath.
Can you do that? That's the challenge, friend. Take a good look around you; there are some lives within your sphere of influence who show the unmistakable signs of some of life's sudden, fiery strikes. You can either appreciate, celebrate and encourage them - or you can join the snazzy cups with logos on 'em and put the ugly ones down, disappointing and maybe discouraging them from letting God do more wonderful stuff in their lives.
You can help them on their way or you can get in their way, because as in everything you have a choice.
One or two of you might be feeling a little like the ugly mug. You've had your share of the old 130,000-mph, 54,000-degree wake-ups and you're growing through them. And there're others who ought to know better who're making fun of you, snickering and talking.
I have one thing to say about that.
When Lakota warriors wanted a superior bow, they went looking for an ugly, burned lightning-struck tree; when God wants a superior servant, He goes looking for men and women who've taken the worst life could throw at them, wiped away the blood and tears, and through faith are the tougher and stronger for it.
"Um, God? Suddenly I'm not so sure I want to be up in the cupboard. Just leave me down here on the counter where folks can take a nourishing, comforting drink now and then. And black's just fine. You say in the back of The Book that eventually all of us who're following you will ALL wear beautiful, shining white. So whatever color, shape and style You want for me is fine. I'd rather be used than looked at, and when they look at me, I want 'em to see You. Oh--and, God? Thanks for the strikes; they're not fun, but I'm tougher and more seasoned because of 'em. You make out of me whatever You can use to help in the lives of others."
Amen.
Loving you,
Dan
Thanks to Dan for being a guest on my blog, although I'm sure he isn't even aware I posted this email...
I just wanted to share this with all of you today. I hope it speaks to you as much as it spoke to me. I truly appreciate Dan's effort to lift, encourage, edify, and challenge. What if ALL of us made an effort to do that every single day?!
Big Love,
Sarah
8.02.2009
Thankful Thursday on Sunday
I'm thankful for healing, today. Healing of the mind, healing of the body, and healing of the soul.
My mind has been completely flooded with stress the past week...millions of things needing to be done, millions of things needing to be paid, millions of things needing to be put away, millions of thoughts needing to be driven out of my head.
I'm so thankful that my Jesus can heal...any time, any place. Please keep all of us in your prayers this week, as I've been struggling with my anxiety issues, as well as with some weird sore throat/coughing thing, Sam had to say goodbye to his girls for another year, and Maya and Gabriel are adjusting back into the 'normal' groove at home.
Big Love,
Sarah
My mind has been completely flooded with stress the past week...millions of things needing to be done, millions of things needing to be paid, millions of things needing to be put away, millions of thoughts needing to be driven out of my head.
I'm so thankful that my Jesus can heal...any time, any place. Please keep all of us in your prayers this week, as I've been struggling with my anxiety issues, as well as with some weird sore throat/coughing thing, Sam had to say goodbye to his girls for another year, and Maya and Gabriel are adjusting back into the 'normal' groove at home.
Big Love,
Sarah
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)