things i don't like (in no particular order)

the need to designate june as "torture awareness month"

How are we so screwed up with greed and power that we can't even define what is torture to humans who are people like us?!  My housemates and I recently watched "Ghosts of Abu Ghraib.  Another friend of mine is worried about her Zimbabwean activist friends who are imprisoned, beaten, and treated inhumanely (maybe even tortured?) in their native country because they speak organize the people to stand up for their basic rights.  In my faith community there are several torture survivors and family members of torture survivors who are seeking political asylum.  Orlando had several years of solitary confinement and other horrible treatment in his native Philippines and now he started and organization named TASSC (Torture Abolition and Survivor Support Coalition, www.tassc.org).  Some church members volunteer to house and support torture survivors and their families while they are recovering and seeking political asylum.  Meanwhile, most of us, including our political leaders, seem to be so far removed from the whole thing that we can water down torture into a few choice words that make it seem ok.  The whole thing blows my mind.

rob and lilly aren't sleeping on our porch anymore

Rob and Lilly (Miss Lillian, as she sometimes calls herself) used to sleep on our porch pretty regularly because there are no one-night homeless shelters in DC that allow couples to stay together overnight.  It wouldn't be so bad except that our neighbors don't like it.  In the past we've kinda half-heartedly asked them to leave.  But they keep coming back and they really don't do any harm.  Our neighbor keeps pressuring us and I gave in and asked Rob and Lilly if we could help them find a better shelter or day program.  That was two weekends ago and they haven't been back since.  I feel so guilty.  The only reason I did that was because of the pressure I felt from the neighbor (who, by the way, has a pretty extravagant house and yard and patio and car).  I thought about Lilly and Rob that whole day and I hoped that they wouldn't listen to me like they hadn't in the past so that I could work on a better relationship with them.  Now they're probably sleeping somewhere else - somewhere probably less safe and still on the street - because they know about all the shelters and choose not to go to them.  So what's the point of me telling them to leave?  Now I have no way of contacting them.  Every morning I open the kitchen blinds as I make the coffee and hope that they're sleeping out back so that I can offer them a cup of joe and piece of toast.  They haven't come back yet.

dead squirrels

Especially when I find it on the front porch of my friend's house for whom I'm dogsitting and as I'm taking said squirrel-obsessed dog for a walk!  Gross.  And then the neighbor just watched me as I gingerly put the rigomortized squirrel in a plastic bag and threw it away.  What a great way to start a Saturday morning.

feeling guilty about almost everything i buy...

because our systems of trade are so extremely oppressive at almost every point of the commercial process that money is always the bottom line and people's quality of life is left out of the equation.  (*That's a simplistic statement, but I think a lot about the complexities behind it and hope to do a future blog on my consumer evolution.)

things i really like (in no particular order)

saturday brunch after throwing a party at our house

Good morning.  Blueberries were on sale on Friday for waffle-making on Saturday.  We're like a little family, except mom doesn't have to do all the work because we all pitch in.  There are just as many laughs in recounting the party last night was there were when it was happening.  It's a chill and fulfilling way to debrief.  Sometimes there's a slight let-down after the high of a fun night with friends, but brunch at home with my housemates is the best antidote.

challenging and refreshing worship

Last week at 8th Day faith community was particularly beautiful as we participated in a music peace liturgy written by one of the members.  My friend Sadie shared about her experience as a volunteer with a human rights NGO in Zimbabwe.  The message that woven through her story challenged me to inspect the callings God has entrusted to me and how willing I am to sacrifice personal comforts for those passions.  Every week I am inspired by the stories of people just like me who are intentionally working with the word of God in their lives and hearts that is tugging on them to move more and more closer to the heart of God and God's dream for the world.  I particularly love that a community this size (30-40 on a given Sunday) allows me to make connections with people who are shaping the church because no one is not a part of its shape.  It's hard to be a peripheral there, but at the same time I don't feel pressured to be something I'm not.  Everyone's presence and gifts are valuable no matter how large or small.

evening bike rides

There's nothing like the cooling, hazy light of the early evening, leafy-green tree-lined paths, and a few friends to make a bike ride a little prayer of joy.

musicians practicing in my house

I walked in the door from church this morning to find Clay and friends from his church practicing for their afternoon worship.  What a beautiful thing to arrive home to!  To be able to sit and bask in their creativity and passion for worship through music was such a gift to me today.

I'm a fan

This is one mysterious kid.

That’s what I thought when I first met D. (I won’t use his full name here.)

D had created a little buzz through the Sitar Arts Center staff office talk, presumably because of his precarious home-life, but I still don’t know the backstory and maybe it isn’t even important to our relationship right now. He’s tall with a short afro and often wears a white t-shirt that reads I’M BLACK in huge bold letters. He started greeting me with hugs soon after I introduced myself to him one day as he was coming in for guitar lesson. At first I thought it was going to be one of those awkward relationships where the high school boy has a crush on me because I’m the only female in his life who’s interested in him as a person. But somehow we moved past that after I wouldn’t let him hang out at my desk and I used my camp counselor skills to defer to side-hugs and less physical contact.

I never knew there were so many different ways that “alright” could answer the question “how are you?” Or sometimes it’s just a nod. Other staff members have described him as “a man of few words,” but I’ve never found it uneasy to have a conversation with him even if he doesn’t talk a lot. In Lyric and Songwriting class we started and ended each session with dives, two-minute free-writing exercises on a variety of topics. D rarely read his dive aloud, but one time he followed the prompt “I am from…” with “government cheese.” Thinking about it after class that evening still sent chills up my spine.

Over the past six months I’ve felt a growing maturity in him from how he deals with frustration with his dad to the development of the teen rock band at the Center. Oh, the band. It seems that they are always together practicing or talking about practicing or writing songs and lyrics, but hardly have anything to show for it considering the amount of time they put into it. And somehow, through some magic that is completely unexpected yet makes sense, D is the one that can hold them together and make it possible for them to get their act together and perform this week.

On stage, he wore black plastic sunglasses and his favorite t-shirt under an open short-sleeve plaid shirt. Being in the spotlight is something he’s good at but doesn’t seek purposely, at least it doesn’t seem that way. On Thursday I told him that he’s nominated for an award. He doesn’t know that I nominated him and that the award is for Most Improved because of all the growth I’ve seen in him this semester. Nonetheless he was genuinely surprised and proud and humbled all at the same time and in such a subtle way. My heart sang a little just to see his reaction. Last night after the performance, I thanked him for his leadership, maturity, and diligence in preparing the band and I can honestly say that it wasn’t an over-the-top, ego-boosting compliment.

I can honestly say that I’m rooting for this kid. I’m rooting for him so hard that he can overcome the obstacles society has put in his way. I want so badly for him to become something with all this potential. He’s at a good point, but also a precarious point. If I was reading about a fictional character I could look at this situation and see a turning point where either the potential could be used for good or for bad. I get wrapped up in fictional characters as I watch their lives unravel or unfold before me. This story is slower and I’m really wrapped up in the most mysterious yet subtly and profoundly overcoming kid I know.

Next Steps

This time last year I had just graduated from Stetson and I asked myself, along with every other person in my life, "What's next?"  12 months later the same question is floating around again.  Once again, my concrete plans only extend to early August and I am balancing a strong prayer for discernment and guidance with the patience of trust as well as a small fire under me to make "something happen."

It's good to think about what's next because I am simultaneously thinking about what has been and how it has prepared me for what's next.  As I ended college last year I felt the wide-open freedom of adulthood challenging me to start with the right habits and goals and priorities so that I would set my life path on the way that I believed rather than blindly following cultural ideas of practicality.  Although I am always held in family and friendships and community, my decisions were finally becoming my own.  If I wanted to become a person that embraced the simple, radical, counter-cultural way of Jesus, it would be much easier to start with a clean slate than to go with the flow and decide later on that I wanted to undo all the culturally-expected marks of ladder-climbing and consumerism and individualism.

In that way, this year has been a perfect time for laying foundations.  I've been surrounded by a structured program and supportive community to make conscious decisions about how my choices affect me and others.  Will I continue to make these decisions with less structure in my life?  Granted, I won't be making tons of money, but hopefully more than $125/month, so will I still be generous and simplified in my spending?  True, I'll be living with other people, but will I be tempted to live more like roommates rather than intentional community?  Sure, I'll always have my compassionate spirit for the injustices of the world, but without a curriculum of learning will I continue to challenge myself to engage or become increasingly unaware and apathetic?  These are the calls that I am facing in the next transition of my life.

After all my philosophizing, you are still left with the burning questions, "Ok, Sarah, you're a big picture person, but what exactly are you going to be doing?"  You're right.  Good thing I am also very detail-oriented and a go-getter.  That doesn't mean that I know the exact plans yet, but I am working on them, so don't be worried.

Here's a rough skeleton (which is all there is right now) of The Plan:

Job-wise, I have the possibility to stay with my current organization, Sitar Arts Center, but in a different capacity.  This has its benefits and its detractors, so I'm really praying and looking for discernment.  I am also looking into jobs with the Latin American Youth Council (LAYC) and a hunger-and-poverty-focused organization called Bread for the City.

Living-situation-wise, there are several people that I am considering living with next year and keeping with some kind of model of intentional community.  Of my current housemates, Emily and I are definitely sticking together.  Chris, Clay, and Isa are all working on different plans with the possibility of staying in DC and, if so, probably wanting to live in community.  There are also 3 married couples that we know through Church of the Saviour who are interested in community living.  Obviously, not all of these people could fit in one house, but there is also the possibility of living nearby and doing sister-houses and neighborhood community things too.

House-wise, I am actively looking, through networking and Craig's List and classified ads, for large houses for rent within the District.  I'm super-blessed right now to be living in a spacious house in a great location close to the Metro, bus, grocery store, work, church, and friends.  It's still a little early to be looking in the rental market because most landlords don't advertise until a month before the house is ready to rent.  I'm hoping that if I find something now, a landlord might be able to wait till August or rent a short while until we can move in.  Otherwise, it's just the last-minute rental scramble and hopefully something good will come of it.

If you are reading this, you are probably important to me in some way and care about me (as I about you) so I would appreciate your prayers.  I'm excited about life right now and hopeful for what's to come!

So Dark & So Light

I sat on the beach with my friends, savoring a once-common-but-now-rare moment of worshipping through song, scripture, sharing, and prayer.  I wouldn't begin to assume that I could capture the moment better than any poet in history has tried, but it's true that the waves sang along and the stars twinkles with harmony and all the overly-romanticized images of the quiet beauty were real.  Especially the moon.

Even though it was only halfway exposed, the moon shone incredible brightly.  Each half was a perfect ying and yang, so dark and so light, split exactly down the middle.  I identified with that moon: I am so dark and so light.

One friend read from 2 Corinthians 3:18, "And all of us have had that veil removed so that we can be mirrors that brightly reflect the glory of the Lord.  And as the Spirit of the Lord works within us, we become more and more like him and reflect his glory even more."

The four days I spent with my friends was a well-savored treat because life is pulling us in many different geographical directions.  In this state of heightened senses, I saw so clearly the shining radiance of God and also the great darkness in the lives of myself and my friends.

Although there are many places that we have not allowed God's light to touch yet, the brilliance of the ways we do reflect is not diminished.  If even a sliver of the moon is exposed to reflect the sun, that sliver reflects just as brightly as when the whole moon is reflecting.  Our darkness, our not-yet places, do not diminish the brilliance of the places already surrendered and transformed.

The time we spent together expressed a more full and mature beauty because heaviness and joy were found comfortably side by side.  The vulnerability is real and not just hyped-up emotion; the joy is real and not just escapist happiness.  The only thing that comes to mind to close out this musing is this: A light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it.

Towards Freedom

I have a confession to make.  It is a confession to myself and to anyone who has been reading this blog.  It is a confession that's not meant to be harsh or berating on myself or others, but to be liberating, as all confessions ultimately are, into grace, freedom, and transformation.

I have not shied away from writing because I am too tired or overwhelmed from difficult things or even busy with good, enjoyable things.  I have suppressed my voice because I am afraid of it.  I am afraid that I am to rash in speaking out strongly about things.  I am afraid that I am wrong.  I am afraid that I am not wise enough.  I am afraid of always being negative.  I am afraid of not being funny or fun or light-hearted.  I am afraid that I will be offensive.  I am afraid that I will be seen as trite.  I am afraid that I will be seen as sappy.  I am afraid of rocking the boat and falling out into the realness of life.

When something is in my head, I can nurture it and it is not exposed to the criticisms of others.  Once I have voiced a thought or written it down, others may think what they want and I am powerless.

What am I writing for?  To keep my friends and family entertained?  To put them at ease about what I am doing and who I am becoming while I am physically far away and living through a formative time in my life?  I feel like I've been writing to put people at ease, not to give voice to truths in my life.  I intend to be real, but then I censor myself.

Even if what I say now is not wise or entertaining or beautiful, it is what I am now.  And that is fine.  I need to embrace the now-ness and realize that I will look back on it and probably see how I have grown and matured.  But I can't be anything different than I am now.  I can't be more mature, more eloquent, wiser, or funnier.

I am also afraid of being redundant.  I've been reading Martin Luther King, Jr. lately and he's redundant.  At least conceptually repetitive.  The crux of everything he said, whether the topic was civil rights or elimination of poverty or against the Vietnam War, was that people matter equally as children of God and only love and non-violence can achieve the peaceful family-hood for which the whole world yearns.  He said this in many different ways and always used his best skills of writing and oratory to give life to the concept.  But he didn't stop saying it because it had already been said.  He kept repeating the root of his belief, not because it was a new concept, but because people needed the reminder.

The only things that I can write about are brokenness and beauty.  They may come in different forms or have a concentrated imbalance at one time or another, but they are the root and they go hand in hand.

Because I am compassionate about the brokenness of consumerism, individualism, materialism, and other cultural addictions that contribute to the emptiness of life in myself and others - because of that, I am passionate about freedom in Christ that brings joy and wholeness through community, interdependence, simplicity, and trust that God's way brings true life.  At times, yes, I am extremely weighted down by these thing.  But I cannot express the joy of the light without explaining the reason why the darkness is so dark.

I apologize to myself for not always embracing the fullness of what I am processing, thinking, and feeling.

The only way that I can process the deepening understanding I have of the brokenness of myself and my relationships and the world around me - the only way I can deal with that is through opening myself to more beauty: daily prayer time becomes more tender; music becomes sweeter; worship washes me with emotion; biking in spring weather makes my spirit soar on sunlight; cuddling and talking with friends allows me to fall into their support; my simple participation in the world is opened to the beauty of a multitude of everyday things because I need to recognize that beauty in order to sustain myself.

We're reading a book on cultural addictions called Finding Our Way Home by Killian Noe, a woman pastor who started a drug-addictions recovery program here in DC through Church of the Saviour.  She says, "Sometimes we hold onto various means of numbing our pain and other addictions that cripple us because the known is less terrifying than the unknown freedom we are being offered.  Believe it or not, sometimes we choose to remain paralyzed in a certain area of our inner lives because we are terrified of feeling out of control and terrified of what might be expected of us if we were to become a little more free."

If I were more free to not be perfect, not be more mature that I am at the moment, not be wiser than my years, and not be more articulate than my own voice, then I might be expected to say things that rock my boat and rock other people's boats.  I might be thrown out into the storm of brokenness.  I might wash up on an island of beauty.  I might drift aimlessly for a while.  I might repeat the cycle all over again.  Maybe those things are better than being confined to a small boat.  Maybe.

New Class! ...and thoughts on it

An unintentional theme for me through DY is recognizing barriers and working toward reconciliation.  (Maybe you've noticed it in my blog posts :) )  That's why I was so excited when I saw this class that is being offered at the Servant Leadership School this term: Overcoming Divisions in the Body of Christ.

The course description reads, "Christ wanted the various segments of his Church to be one.  What makes this so difficult?  Why, as martin Luther King, Jr. observed, is Sunday morning at 11:00 the most segregated hour in America?  This course will explore some of those things that keep us separate: race, class, language, theology.  It will offer some ways to overcome those divisions together."

The teachers are also very interesting: one black male pastor who is also an adjunct professor at Howard University's School of Divinity; and one white male pastor who directs a ministry that helps people develop relationships across the barriers that separate the inner city and the suburbs.

Isa, my Salvadorean housemate, and I are taking the class together.  I already really appreciate our friendship and perspectives about overcoming divisions in our personal lives and in the church.  I hope that the class will help strengthen our conversations about racial healing and multiculturalism in the church.

We spent the first class reflecting on Jesus' prayer for the unity of the church in John 17.  And throughout the course we will be reading from various pieces of MLK's writings and from Henri Nouwen's Life of the Beloved.

As I was reading the King assignment, I found tears in my eyes just reading the account of what was happening during the Montgomery bus boycott.  My emotion sprung from the realness of it all.  The injustice was real, the danger was real, and the hope was real.  My tears are also for how much needs to be done still.  But mostly, I felt a compelling sense to reach for that kind of reality in my life.  It sounds trite or cheesy, but I do want to be a part of something that creates a positive change in the world now.  If need be, I want to have something worth being in the line of danger.  I don't want to shrink from things that matter.

It's true that there are no momentary decisions.  The decision that MLK, Ralph Abernathy, and Robert Graetz made to ride the first integrated bus together as two black and one white man, that decision was not made in a moment, or an hour, or even a day.  That decision was made long before the bus boycott ever began, when all of those men decided that they had principles that they intended to stick to throughout life.  And when the time came again and again to stick to those principles, no matter the outcome, they continued to do so.

I hope my mundane and ordinary decisions of today are the kind that lay the pathway for difficult decisions in the future.  And I feel encouraged to continue being/be more involved in movements for social change.  I love reading King because he's so solid, not judging or preachy to people who aren't involved, but strong and honest and faithful to his calling.  He was good at leading and inspiring because he was true to himself, his faith, and following Christ.

What is the Montgomery bus boycott of today?  I feel this realness as I'm learning about racial healing, planning for intergeneration conversations and leadership development in my church, and participating in demonstrations of peace for Darfur and Iraq.  It's good to recognize the places in my life where I feel that I am truly following Christ.  I also feel that community and simple living are life-giving in light of my faith.  Little by little, I pray that my life is coming closer under the love of God and God's call on my life.