Where is your life story? - Scheduled Post #1

I remember those days shortly before fourth grade began. I saw a beautiful purple notebook with yellow stars on it, and I fell in love for the first time. An hour later, I held the notebook tight to my chest as we drove home. A few days later, when we went to the aquarium, I saw another tiny notebook, as big as my hand, that I fell in love with as well. In that small notebook covered in dolphins, I kept barely five entries. The purple one grew with me all the way to... well, its very last entry is waiting for this fall when exactly ten years will have elapsed.

In the purple journal, I have entries from late 2002 all the way through 2012, with entries describing big events. With any of the journals I kept, I enjoy rereading through the entries. It's very neat to go back through and see the kinds of things that were important to me. It's like... going back in time. Occasionally I would write down interesting dreams, so I can go back and remember the dream as it happened.

Writing has been part of me even before I started writing stories. The first story I wrote (with the exception of those horrid stories I wrote for school) was in 2005, when I read and fell in love with A Wrinkle in Time. I'm not sure why I decided to write, but I'm sure glad I did!

This picture is of the shelf in my room dedicated to my journals. There are a lot, but these were collected over a period of ten years. The first one is the journal I got at the aquarium. The first entry in there is from September 1, 2002, eleven days before the first entry in the purple journal. The last journal is my current journal, with the latest entry being just a few days ago - May 13, 2012. It's really crazy to think of filling all of these up with my thoughts or stories. Of course, some of those journals have only a couple entries in them, but many of them are filled to the brim with my thoughts or prayers. Yes, many of the later journals have written prayers in them. I believe I started writing my prayers in 2007, when a leader at youth group talked about how she wrote prayer requests down to see later when they had been answered. As a result of writing those prayers, I can now go back and see things I was struggling with when I was thirteen. I can trace my spiritual journey as well as my life journey. It's really neat.

Sometimes I feel a bit self-conscious about the journals, as I think about the future, and how someday my children or grandchildren might find an old box of my journals, and read through them to find out how life was like in my days. There's a ton of personal stuff in there, not to mention the fact that I sound extremely silly in many entries. I'm not going to expound on that.... heh heh.

Because I have been writing for over half my life (now THAT is a scary thought), I can watch myself grow and develop from the strange little eight-year-old that I was, to the confident young woman I am now. It's neat. And I know I'm not the only one with such a time capsule as this.

Are any of you artists? Compare your first sketch with your last masterpiece. Compile the pictures together and see what themes arise. I know, it sounds like the English classes in high school that you dreaded, but it is true! Look closely enough, and a story will arise from between the threads of a colored pencil to the arc of an oil paint.

Usually, a pattern can be seen in those who do arts. But what about the sciences? I would hope that any chemist or doctor would record in some way their growth from making baking soda volcanoes or dissecting worms to exploding gasses and surgeries. There is a story to tell in everyone's life.

For some reason, I have been spending an inordinate amount of time reminiscing about my life thus far. I'm not quite sure why, but I've enjoyed it to an extent. Sure, it's not fun to drudge up painful memories, but I do enjoy seeing how I grew through those experiences. Where did you grow? It's often the last thing on our minds when we are in a difficult situation, but adversity makes us grow. There is no denying it.

So where do you see your life story? Take a moment and think about it. What would you change? Then go and make your life so you wouldn't change anything about it now.

Upcoming

I have taken the liberty of setting several posts on a schedule to post twice a week - once on Tuesday and once on Thursday. I have four set up, and I will continue to add them as I find time. However, I would appreciate some feedback from my lovely readers. What kinds of things would you like for me to post? I have a whole arsenal of poetry and short stories. Or would you prefer to see posts that I wrote some years ago that would be blog posts if I'd had a blog back then? I'll throw some of each into the scheduled posts, but please let me know.

Thanks! Have a wonderful day! Shalom!

Also, just for your enjoyment, here is a picture taken when I was six.

Is it summer even if I still have to take classes?

In about three hours, I will be preparing for the beginning of my first summer class: microbiology. This is one of the things that studying abroad did. Normally, nursing students take microbiology fall of their sophomore year, before clinicals start in the spring. However, because I will be abroad in the fall, I had two options: take microbiology in the spring and take it alongside clinicals, or take it the summer before studying abroad. I originally planned to take it in the spring, but then I decided to take my second semester of Hebrew independent study in the spring, so micro got pushed back to the summer. So that is why I will be dying the next six weeks. Well, more than just microbiology. As if that wasn't enough, I'm also taking Communications and History in order to get more general education credits finished. You see, I am also an adventure education minor. If I want to get anywhere near finishing the minor, I need to finish as many gen-eds as possible so I have room for the adventure ed classes. Communications is a 12-week class, also beginning today (though I sent in my first assignment yesterday, haha), and History is 8 weeks, beginning on May 30th. So if you see me during June, it will likely be due to procrastination. Or, I suppose, I could write a couple posts in advance and set them on a schedule to post so I don't have to later. *shrugs* I don't know for sure.

All that to say, I'm a bit nervous. While this is not the first time I'm taking a rather intense course in a short amount of time (remember January term), this is the first time since first grade I am taking a class in a secular setting. I went to Christian school from second grade (the little bit it was) to twelfth grade, and now I go to a Christian college. Right now I'm just praying I can understand the professor and that I end up with a good lab partner. I would also appreciate prayers that somehow, I can be a light to those in my class. In my lab sciences at Messiah and in high school, the professor would usually get excited about how cool God's creation was, and I would be super excited too. Now, I'm going to be the only one fostering that excitement. I hope I can keep it up, even when no one else can see why.

I hope you have a wonderful day! It's beautiful outside here, and even if it is not where you are, it is a new day.

Happy Mom's Day!

In honor of the day that we set aside each year to celebrate the women in our lives, I have written a poem. Thanks Mom, as well as the other women I have adopted as mothers over the years as well. Who ever said mothers had to only be the woman who gave birth to you? :)

To be a mother

She means more to you than you know.

She is the first to understand you

You move, and she smiles at the days ahead

Eagerly counting down the days until

The barrier of flesh and distance no longer

Keep her arms from holding you

She sacrifices more than you know

She gives up time that once was hers

So you would be complete

She shares her heart with you

Sustains you before you could

Brings you, crying, into her world

Mother’s tears are gems

Those arms suddenly become more than arms

Their presence meant you weren’t alone

From fingers wiping away tears

To tickling your soft skin

From hands rubbing your back when you hurt

To holding you close

Hands are meant for loving

A mother’s hands are also meant for comfort

She gives hugs that are more than hugs

They fill you with warmth

They are arms of strength

They are the medium by which

She teaches you how to face life in the world

The world is a far cry from the safety of home

She doesn’t want to let you go

Yet knowing she must for you to grow

She teaches you that home is more than a place

It is where your heart resides

She knows you are not hers forever

That you are a gift to her

And a gift she must pass on to others as well

Mothers are born in the heart

They know when to adopt

Mothers mean more to us than we know

When it hurts to say goodbye

Yesterday marked a very strange day of remembrance for me, which of course I forgot about and instead remembered it today. Two and a half years ago, I lost one of my best friends. Three years ago, when I celebrated his birthday for the last time, I never imagined the possibility of losing such a friend. I don't think we ever really expect to lose friends that are so close to us, who we know so well. We don't expect to be betrayed in such a manner. We expect that this time of joy will continue going on and on.

But the reality of life is that it will not last forever. We must live life not in anticipation of tomorrow, but in celebration of today.

I don't know how long I have on this earth. Does it really matter? Should I not live life as if it were the last day I had on this earth?

It is for this reason that I always end phone conversations with my family with "I love you." I don't know if this is the last day they have, and even if it isn't, saying "I love you" is not going to do any harm to them.

Cherish every day.

I've been struck with the shortness of life through people close to me who have lost friends. While very few close to me have passed from this life, the friend I mentioned at the beginning of this post is lost to me in this life, though he still lives on. I will perhaps never see him again on this side of eternity, and I don't need to. And while the most painful part of losing him was not knowing where his soul was, I can pray for him. Once upon a time, I promised him that he would never be without a prayer. I have held fast to that promise, for it is a good promise.

So, for those with loved ones, love them. Never let them believe they are not loved. Spend time with them. Hug them. Tell them you love them. But don't let them live life without knowing that.

For those who have lost loved ones to the enemy's camp, never cease praying. Never forget them in prayers. Though their spiritual soul and physical body are beyond your sight for now, do not forget them. You can be that spiritual intercessor for them. Pray. And pray hard. You don't know when that chance will be snatched from you.

For those who have lost loved ones to the other side of eternity, I can hardly speak advice to you, for I have lost very few in this manner. Never forget. But please don't forget us in this life either.

The following poem is one that I wrote shortly after I lost my friend. I hope it brings hope to you.

When it hurts to say goodbye

When it hurts to say goodbye,

Shallow words are all that come

Prolonged friendship ends in sighs

Yet, there’s no doubt it is done

A stretched out hand pleas for more

But love has slipped into a quiet store

No more wasted, no more lost

It’s far too high a precious cost

When it hurts to say goodbye,

An ache comes in that doesn’t leave

Desperation in wait lies

When you take your heart off your sleeve

A cry for help, but no one will hear

The evil ones come close and leer

“You won’t find love, you’ll be all alone.”

But no one’s there; you are alone

When it hurts to say goodbye

Who is the one who bound up your hole?

Or else the wound would make you die

Who is the one who makes you whole?

The Lord of Lights held needle and thread

“I’ll bind you up,” he gently said.

You hadn’t heard him before, but now give away

Your heart to the only Truth, Life, and Way

When it hurts to say goodbye,

Adonai will hold your hand.

Memories, like the wind, will scatter by

God holds you close from dead, dry sand.

The sands of lost memories cease

The sands that held you from God’s peace

The dead sand that made your heart dry

Now turns to wet, the storm’s calm eye

When it hurts to say goodbye,

Only one revives your heart

When you thought you would die,

He brought you life, a brand new start.

Never forget.

May 5th

Today is a very special day, on several levels. It is Cinco de Mayo, yes, I know. There are two other things that occur on an annual basis on this day, and a third that is only happening this year. We are celebrating my sister's sixteenth birthday. Her birthday was last week, but this was the first time everyone could be together to celebrate.

The two other things though... It is International Day of the Midwife, and the 11-year anniversary of the day I was baptized. Both days mean so much to me, and the fact that they are the same day is just the icing on the cake.

 Speaking of cake, before I go and celebrate birthdays, here's a quick update

My freshman year of college is over! I am officially a college sophomore! Well, according to the records, I had enough credits to be counted as a sophomore before now, but I am done with my first year of classes. I had my last two finals yesterday, and then in the afternoon, my grandma drove up to pick me and my carload of stuff up and brought me home.

It is good to be back.

Although, I will have to drive back up to Messiah on Monday for a bell concert that night. After that, though, the next time I am back at Messiah may well be February! I'm trying to work out a J-term class called Wilderness Encounter for my Adventure Ed minor, that is not on campus. We shall see on that.

I got my plane tickets for Israel. Eee! It's a bit scary and very exciting. I'm nervous about making my first international flight by myself, but God will be with me, and that thought makes my nervousness seem bearable. I've done a bit of research about how much luggage I can take, and I wonder if I will be able to take everything that I need in the space I'm allotted. We shall see.

Yep, that's me. Sarah the introvert

While I'm not a big fan of stereotypes, I do think there is a bit to be said for personality typing using a test like the Myers-Briggs test. Because, most of the time, it is right, no matter how you hate it. It also makes you think critically about yourself and who you are and think you are. In my case, this is a good thing.

This morning in Anatomy and Physiology, Dr. Harms, our professor, announced the specifics of the extra credit opportunity he had promised on Wednesday. The school of Science's Symposium was today, so to get 10 points of extra credit, we had to sit through two talks (and write brief notes) and could visit up to six posters (again with the notes). Since I'm hoping to get an A in A&P, I decided, why not? I ate lunch quickly, played a bit of piano, and then hurried over to the science building.

The "lectures" were okay. I sat through them though, and got the information I needed. 40 minutes and 2 sections of notes, finished. Then I went down the hall to where the nursing students were standing by their posters with the summary of their research.

Many of the posters had extremely interesting material, including one with lots of supporting research towards using controlled hypothermia to help healing of patients after heart attacks. It was also really neat to see my A&P traverse the room with his 9-month-old daughter in his arms. She waved a pen in the air (apparently her daddy doesn't let her have them that often, hehe), showed off her two little teeth, and obliged me with some cute noises. ^_^ (I just about asked if I could hold her, but I had my notebook in hand and figured that she might not take too well to me holding her when both of her parents were in sight.) And Dr. Harms carried little Marian off to listen to another group explain their findings, and I was off to finish up my notes.

Finally, I finished what I needed to do and went upstairs to the thankfully quiet biology lounge. I wanted to work on a paper due Tuesday, but the battery on my laptop was nearly dead. Also, in the quiet, I realized just how tired I was. I curled up on one of the couches and took a 30 minute nap before realizing that my dorm was not all that far away, with a much comfier bed.

As I tiredly walked back to my room, I, being the analytical nursing student I am, thought about reasons why I was so tired. After all, two and a half weeks ago, the reason for my exhaustion was due to iron-deficient anemia. I came up with three theories. I could be tired from (1) sitting through 40 minutes of lecture about pancreatic cells and receptors and hormones involved with cancer (2) taking notes standing up in a warm room, or (3) standing taking notes in a warm room with a crowd.

I think it was the crowd.

Yes, my dear readers, I am an introvert, in case you did not know. I got back to my dorm room to find three of me and Brittney's pseudo-roommates (girls who pretty much live in our room except when sleeping) and really wanted to just send everyone away. I was zapped.

Once I got a bit of my energy back (notice I did not say that I was completely rested... that's not going to happen until I sleep in a dark room for eight hours and then spend time reading my Bible), I talked with my roommate and pseudo-roommates about personality types. I read Brittney the blurb about hers from Wikipedia and Keirsey, and she was blown away. It described her almost to a dime. Then I read the other girls' blurbs, and then Brittney's boyfriend's, and then, lastly, mine.

The best part was when I found, on this other site, what kinds of things you should expect from roommates of certain types. I checked it out. Of course, Brittney's was right on. And mine? Hehe.

"'Counselors' can become very close to their roommates, but they also need some private time and space. If the roommate bonding is negative, Counselors usually retreat to their own space and remain somewhat aloof."

 I just about died laughing. Why? Because when we were having roommate issues, I would often retreat to my bed. My bunk bed. I was literally aloof. Heh heh. And, of course, Brittney affirmed that was spot-on with me.

So, you may be wondering, why is Sarah spending so much time talking about her being an introvert? Well.... because it's 12:15am at the moment, and I'm weary from the events of today (I'm an introvert, remember, and I spent an hour in a small classroom with a LOT of people), and I have to stay up for another forty-five minutes until I go back to work. That, and...

Even though there are plenty of personality types, everyone is different. I'm different from you, as you are different from someone else. I'm so glad we're different, because life is so much more interesting this way. It makes it a joy to get to know someone different than you.

And God uses our uniqueness just the way we are.

My devotional book, several weeks ago, had a fantastic poem that I wrote down because I liked it so much. (At the moment, I'm having trouble finding the journal I wrote it in. Ahh, being a writer... Needless to say, I'm very thankful I didn't pack my journals yet.) From Streams in the Desert, on January 7, 2012:

"Others may do a greater work,
But you have your part to do;
And no one in all God's family
Can do it as well as you."

^_^ "You're beautiful. You're beautiful. You are made for so much more than all of this. You're beautiful. You are treasured, you are sacred, you are HIS. So you are beautiful." - MercyMe