The Choice

As a child I would never have DREAMED of saying no to my mom. Even now I don’t. That is just something that is not said to a parent. I bravely attempted that once or twice before. The conversation would stop, my mothers tone would change and I would get a fire filled look followed up by an “excuse me?”. I would then desperately back paddle with an “I just mean….” I never stood my ground on my nos. I don’t ever remember getting a consequence to saying no it was just simply something you didn’t say to my mother. Never even tried it on my father. Wouldn’t dream of it in fact. Dad says do something you do it.
Two years ago I said no to God. I was slowly walking into a relationship with a guy that I knew wasn’t my husband, God told me so. Yet when God told me to stop hanging out with the Guy I desperately said no no, please no…he’s my friend. After the terror of what he was asking sunk in I still stood my ground and said no. Fire didn’t rain down from heaven I wasn’t struck by lightning…I survived the no. Something I never thought of doing now sunk into my life. The no. God would say “Go talk to this person” out of fright I would say no. What if I said something wrong? What if I’m thinking this up on my own. No God…no.
No plague was cast down on me with my foolish decision to hang onto this boy. Instead I died on the inside. God where are you? I would walk through some of the funniest times of life yet the world was a shade of grey. I had learned to follow my own will…and the world was less bright because of it. Eventually I caved in and did what I thought was impossible and gave up a friend. He’s now married.
It strikes me as almost funny that to my parents no is a forbidden word in my mind. Yet to my heavenly father, the one true God, the creator of the universe, I can say no and attempt to run away from his request. Two years ago I got a taste of what it was like to walk my own path. It was grey. Fun didn’t exist and God’s voice came with running shoes. Like Adam and Eve I would attempt to run and hide…or just plug my ears. Yet following myself was easier, more comfortable.
My pastors have said that this is a shift year. The dissensions made this year will shape the future. Before me is two paths. One is radical, filled with adventure and danger. The second is grey, easy, comfortable. Lately I have been choosing the latter of the two. My days have been spent going to a job that to be quite honest I’m not sure, despite what I tell people, I truly enjoy. Coming home reading and watching tv or watching countless movies…trying to lose myself in others adventures. Time spent with people isn’t fun for me like it once was…it’s grey. I want to go home much of the time…go home and read.
In health class they teach us that adrenaline makes the “fight or flight” syndrome kick off in peoples brains. Working at Starbucks has taught me that I’m a runner. Drinks start lining up and something within me says “get out of here.” I fight back with “but no one else is here to take my place…calm down” Then I panic for a second…and then I just shut off my emotions. If the drinks don’t get done it doesn’t matter just go. Just go…that has been a common theme in my life. “I don’t want to be here right now” just go. “I don’t know what to say to these people” just go…just go…get to the next thing…the next event…just go. Run. Run through it. If you run you miss stuff. I want to feel…but I’m scared. God I’m scared.
God showed me the other path this weekend. I think I’ve been aware of it for sometime but I’ve been closing my eyes and running. It’s exciting…but it’s scary. I won’t get to be comfortable anymore. No more saying no and just kicking back. I’m going to have to run for God now…not from him. No more plugging my ears. But hearing every word…even the stuff that’s about me, about all the junk I have in my heart. No more just kicking back but being sensitive to his Spirit at every second. It’s going to be uncomfortable. A panic rises in me…I want to run. “but no one else can take my place…”
I stand at the cross roads with two paths in front of me. One is dangerous the other comfortable. Either way I’m going to have to run. I have a choice to make. God I’m scared.

From End to End
by Relient K
excuse me, but i've got a request
could you take the gag off of my mouth
i admit that i'm fairly impressed
cause you're the best at blocking me out
i believe that we weren't quite done
i know it's hard to hear me out again
i realize, you're not the only one
who's terrified of life from end to end

hey hey, can you hear anything i say
i'm feeling unwanted, that's not what i wanted
and attention to me is something you refuse to pay
cause i just can't believe the way that this
continues to go on
i say i wish you didn't always think i'm wrong
so tell me tell me what will it take to get this through your head
and tell me what will it take
until you see things through from end to end

excuse me, but isn't this the way
that things always turn into something good
you've tried to ignore the things i say
but in the end you found you never could

hey hey, can you hear anything i say
you search for the short-cut, you live life but for what
i love you and hope you will find the truth some day

cause i just can't believe the way that this
continues to go on
i say i wish you didn't always think i'm wrong
so tell me tell me what will it take to get this through your head
and tell me what will it take
until you see things through from end to end

so tell me tell me what will it take to get this through your head
and tell me what will it take
to get you on my good side again
and tell me what will it taketo get this through your head
and tell me what will it take

to forget what you knew
just let him find you
and then you'll see things through from end to end

*art done by me *

Real CSI conclusion (I’m a procrastinator.)

Leaving our old bed room that is apparently now some kind of a nesting place we enter back into the living room. On the wall near our old bedroom door I later discovered an upside-down cross with a 666 creatively placed next to it. The wall is lined with tea light candles along the base. This is creepy.
We make our way into the tiny kitchen. The floor is covered in a dry liquid. Because of the empty bottle of hydrogen peroxide we wonder if it’s blood. But based on the color we conclude its dried urine, most likely from someone that is intoxicated. The sink has an old water bottle under the facet. In a cupboard that would be over a refrigerator if there had been a refrigerator. It is neatly stalked with empty liquor bottles. The irony of this makes me laugh, the whole house it trashed, literally, yet this cupboard of liquor is so neatly organized. We walk down the little hallway. As a kid I remember this being much bigger. I remember my siblings stretching out with hands on one side of the hall and feet on the other and climbing up to the ceiling like this looking down at me…but it’s not that wide…or long…yet my sister reassures me that my memories are true…I guess they WERE shorter back then.
This hall leads to the bathroom on the left and my brother’s old bedroom on the right. My sister goes into the bathroom, I however do not I just peer inside. There where pills in the toilet and yet another upside down cross, a twin to the one in the living room. Other things are painted on the wall to in a reddish fingernail polish. It creped me out a little, on some of the doorways this fingernail polish was smeared with fingers….
In my brothers old bedroom there is cat litter on the floor, a naked tree painted on the wall along with an old mans face. The closet didn’t have a door…in it there is a stool…and a belt hanging from the poll. That creped me out. I’ve heard of people hanging themselves with belts in their closets.
Then we go into the back room. This room was just an off room off of the covered garage. It was sort of like a concrete covered patio. In the floor there is a wooden door. You lift it open and there are concert steps leading down to an old basement.
It’s wide open when we walk in.
This is a scene is straight from a horror movie. I’m creped out expecting to hear movement down there…we looked down this hole in the floor. Our eyes follow the old concert steps. Spider webs line the hole….
We head outside deciding to forget about the basement. But in the back of mind I’m thinking what’s down there? What if there is a dead person…what if there is a live person. I’m going to be wondering for the rest of my days. Finally we decide we are going into the basement ripped from a horror movie.
We approach the hole. While I’m thinking we’re going to find some CSI scene all that my sister is worried about is getting spiders in her afro. She’s braver than I am and starts down the steps. She gets about two steps down when flies start buzzing up out of the dark abyss.
We both chicken out at that point.
However I did peer down the entrance to the basement. All I could see was remnants of carpet and an old swivel desk chair with its back to us. That was scary!
We left after a bit. I was sure that the neighbors thought that we just bought drugs from whoever was in that house. We went back to my sister’s house. An hour or so in to watching TV my sister was like “Great now I’m going to be wondering what was in the basement.” I sort of did too…but I wasn’t going to let that haunt me. What if there was someone down there…a missing person?? A Person in need? A missing link to an open case? I’d rather live than know : D
I was thinking as we walked through that house who lives here? How did they get here? Not just physically (although that is another point my sister made…how did they get here? The house is off of the road, down a lane. How did they find out that was empty? What happened?) but to that place in life in general. What a dark place to be in spirit. How hopeless…Leaving I had this dark feeling. I am so thankful that God has saved me. So thankful. satan is a liar…and this person is caught in a dark, twisted web of lies. Please pray for them.

Real CSI

I grew up on a farm off of Amity until I was four. Memories of this house are all happy and slightly hazy. Great times in play houses, looking up at my brother in his tree house as he ate worms (gummy worms but trying to convince me they where real worms), playing with a bouncy ball and looking up at the ceiling to see my two siblings startling the walls and looking down at me. Times playing with army men inside of a back pack that turned into their tent. Playing with the boy next door. Sliding down our giant slid into our kiddy pool. Watching our HUGE tree almost fall onto our swing set and then having my mom think that we got crushed by the tree and finding her crying and us spouting out the story of what we just witnessed. This was my early childhood.
My friend and her new family (her and her husband just had their first son like 2 days ago!) live in Nampa so my other friends and I often take Amity to her house. I have searched for my old house every time, but it's down a lane and with all the GIANT new houses built by the lane throws me off. Finally this year I found it. We drove down the lane, the lane that I as a three year old sitting on my parents laps got to steer our car down to our house. We approach the house...and find it abandoned. The front door is wide open...the trees are gone, the barn is gone, even the chicken house is gone. We drive around it and I contemplate the idea for all of us to get out and explore. The grown up inside of Erik advised not, what if we ran into an animal, a person, or even a corpse. So we drive away.
I tell this story to my mom and sister. Apparently my sister barred "treasure" as a kid by the big old tree stump...so we plan to return...and today we did.
My sister and I drive up the lane...past he neighbors that I'm sure where wondering why in the last two days so many people have been interested in this empty house. We get out of the car and both decide that of course we are going into the house, this was our childhood, lets see if it's like we remember. We go onto the enclosed porch like thing that my parents used as a bedroom during the summer. It was cooler than in the house and we where poor. Walking in Manda was concerned that the floor might cave in...but it didn't.
Someone had or has been staying there
The floor was strung with old cigarette boxes, vodka bottles, little tea light candles and bird feathers. It was weird...and it got weirder. We walked into what use to be our old room...there was a mattress in there and once again bottles everywhere and tea lights. Manda, the brave one walks into the room and looks into the closet. I was slightly sure that there would be someone in there but there wasn't. It was empty except for the nasty floor. OH that was another thing...as a kid we had carpet in the house...until we discovered that there was wonderful hard wood floors underneath, so that carpet was quickly pulled up. Upon returning though the floor had been covered again. Towards the end of our visit Manda told me why. My family had all heard that after we moved out of that house a few families had moved in and out of it. One lady that had lived there had actually killed herself there. Manda said that she heard that there was a blood stain on our beautiful hard wood floors and that's why they covered it up, apparently she shot herself...and this is the house we where now walking through.
I'll continue this later....I have to go to church...PRAISE GOD!

...I'm mad

I'm mad that I just spent 6 dollars I didn't have...six dollars on a credit card that I really shouldn't be using...six stinking dollars on this crappy movie. I just went and saw the new Adam Sandler movie "Don't Mess With Zohan" or something dumb like that with some friends and it was awefull. I'm sitting there in between a girl from bible college on oneside, a guy from a Christian university on the other and me being an intern watching Adam Sandler be discusting. Pretty much the movie has him cutting womens hair and them sleeping with them after...OLD WOMEN. And then they try to plug in some moral ending about the middle east conflects and how it shouldn't affect us here because we are in America, the "equalizer". It was full of dirty jokes, in appropriate scenes and my goodness how many times do I need to see Mr. Sandlers butt in that movie? Honestly.
The bad part is you think that out of us three christian kids you think one of us would have sugested getting up and leaving. It's just so hard to get up and leave when you just begrugenedly payed that much money to see it and hope it gets better. It's hard, even with Christian friends, maybe even harder in someways to be like "hey guys, this is discusting, I'm going to go wait in the lobby." Another thing...maybe it didn't bother us bad enough to feel like leaving...although it should have. :>/
(gruff...) and I saw it with a boy which was even more awkward. It was just a bad situation....I use to think this kind of stuff was funny, in fact I made a lot of bad jokes. I need to keep my purity in check...and my sensitivity high. Boo...that was a bad end to a good day.

"Lord bless this food"

SO eventually I will move out of my house, maybe even this year, but while making breakfast today my worries about this changed from worries about finances to my health. A few times now I have attempted to make bacon for breakfast sandwiches. (I'm obsessed with breakfast sandwiches...no my family got me a breakfast sandwich maker I like them that much). I have had to call my mom and describe what the bacon was like to make sure I could be eating it. It wasn't bad, it just wasn't crunchy. But the adventure was worse today...I found some peaches to go with my breakfast in the fridge, I think I opened them a week ago.....I think....Well as I'm eating my potentially undercooked bacon and maybe fermented peaches I started thinking...if I move out I might end up with food poisoning at some point. :(

If I was Chinese I'd be in trouble

I went to the beloved PF Changes yesterday with my mom and sister. After are grossly deliousious meal we all got fortune cookies. I chose my fate and opened my cookie.


Nothing was in it.


So in my logic this could mean one of two things if I acctually believed it these. One- I get to make my own fate. Or Two- death is around the corner.
It was still slightly discouraging.

Story time

So apparently Idaho is the new Oregon coast minus the beautiful ocean. It's been so rainy lately. I like rain...but I like sun too...and heat so it would be nice to have some. Anyway...I was driving home and it was POURING and BEAUTIFUL. I loved it. (And people said I wouldn't need rain boots in Idaho.) I'm on my way home and I drive by this older lady walking somewhat slow through the rain with a giant leopard print umbrella. I drive past her and decide to turn around and pick her up. She's a lady, she's older, I figure no harm done in pulling over and offering her a ride. She says she's on her way to the store and wouldn't mind one. She wasn't that far from the store really but still in that amount of rain who wouldn't want a ride. So she shuts her giant umbrella and gets in. Out of no wear she punches me so hard that I'm out of it. I wake up an hour later still on the side of the road and my wallets gone. There wasn't any money in it but there was my credit card and who honestly checks ID's with credit cards.
OK so I made up that last part. She was really nice. Did I have you going there for a minute? :) What's story time without some made up parts, this is how fairy tales happen. Just kidding, back to the story. So she gets in and we take off towards Albertsons. She's telling me that she was soaked just from getting into the car and thanks for the ride. She has bad knees and such. She was on her way to get some cigarettes so if I didn't mind waiting she would just be a minute. I could have pulled over and rebuked her for her awful habit but I didn't. Jesus hung out with people who had worse habits. I'm sitting there in a ripped out collard hoodie, I have Jennifer Knapp's acoustic loveliness playing and I'm in a car that was smoked in so much by it's previous owner so much that the windshield has a haze on the inside so she probably figured I understood. I told her I would wait. While in the store I was praying for words. To I share the Gospel with her? Do I tell her Jesus loves her? What do I do? I don't want to speak out of my own strength cause that gets you no were. I decide what to do.
After awhile she gets back in the car. It took longer because the guy forgot to give her change. She bought some candy bars and wanted to know what kind I wanted. Before I even said which one she had given me the one I liked anyway. We pull into her apartment building and before she left I asked her if she had anything I would like her to pray for and she said her friend that was going into surgery soon that may cost her her life. And that was that.
I have heard of people picking up hitchhikers and having prophesies for them and such...I just asked for a prayer request...maybe God will use that as seed.
So that is my first hitchhiker story. What was really cool is I wasn't scared. Usually when God's like "go talk to that person" or whatever my heart is beating out of my chest. He gave me strength with out even thinking. God is good...

Please...just leave me alone

Once a friend and I had a very true, very funny because it was true conversation about writing late at night. (Not the exact conversation)
me: "Oh yeah I'm learning never to write people emails late at night"
Casey: Oh no. It's never good. 2 in the morning "I'm going to right that guy and tell him how I really feel. 'I hate you' (reads it over) yep yep sounds good"

It was funny. We where pretty much getting at don't write what someone is going to actually read late at night. It's only filled with regrets later. Yet here I am. 4 hours of sleep the night before with 9 hours of work, about 4 hours producing at church and MAYBE a half an hour of falling to sleep and drooling on the seats in the sanctuary. And yet I'm writing...not a good thing but I'm doing it anyway.

My mom and I were just having a conversation that started to voice what I have truly been feeling lately....I would love it if people would just leave me alone, I mean that in the nicest way. I mean I am around people all day...everyday. My schedule is packed LIKE ALL THE TIME. My sister called me yesterday wanting to know if I was free on Friday and she literally asked if I could "pencil her in" in a half joking half "don't forget about me and make plans over our plans" way. Like seriously it use to be work, interns, church. Interns is now over and I fear for my summer...it's already begun. "Hey Sarah lets get together, when are you free next?" They asked a simple question now I have to answer honestly "(inner sigh) Saturday" and before I know it my first day off in 4 days is now filled with activities.
People...leave me alone. I'm desperate.
No really I'm desperate. The girl that once couldn't sleep with her door shut now does...in fact my door is quite often shut now and I think it's more of an inner cry to be left ALONE. The other day my mom was walking by my room or something and I asked my mom to shut the door and she was like "Why?". . . I really didn't know other than the fact that I didn't want people with me. The days that I do get off of everything I bask in the times that no one is around. I have even taking to not wanting to be around my dog. Seriously...sometimes I try to sneak around the house so he won't know I'm there. If he knows I'm there then he wants to come in my room and go to bed...my bed...LEAVE ME ALONE!
I tried to disappear once from the world, shut off my phone and everything...my friends came to my house...and knocked on my window....

PLEASE don't get me wrong....I love my friends, my family (including my wonderful dog), people really. I do. But it's never ending. I never get just a moment just by myself. There is always someone wanting my time...planing my days. Please, please, just leave me alone. Please. I'm desperate.
Honestly I have NO TIME. And people don't seem to understand this. One time I was telling my friend that my other friend wanted to get together that week but I had no time...I got a "you can give her an hour Sarah" NO I CANT...yet I did...and that hour turned into 4 and my night of sleep before I opened in the morning turned into like 5 hours of sleep...just to go to a job where I see hundreds of faces everyday.
I have no time to the point that my room is trashed...no no no TRASHED. I have like an even foot of cloths coating the floor...I attempted to clean in on my recent first day of nothing...only to cover my bed in laundry. I am living in unsafe conditions because I have no time to clean my stinking room.
PEOPLE LEAVE ME ALONE!
Yet when I think like this I feel bad. I'm like everyone has busy scheduals. I'm an adult now...this is 'the real world' as people keep telling me...yeah Im aware of that and it only makes me angry and feel belittled when you say that.
I am turning into an angry weird person inside because all I'm thinking is "ok lets get through this task so I can make it to the next" and I'm mean to people on the inside because I'm annoyed that they are around me because I just want to be left alone...left alone to think, read, watch tv, PRAY....oh I need to pray more.
I feel as though my relationship with God is feeble...
I'm tired
I'm cranky
I'm fed up and I just want to be left alone.



I love you all...really REALLY I do. I just need some time...please. Even God took a day of rest...

The Complex is Over

So in the previous blog I mentioned my recently formed fear of me being monotone. I also deticated a portion to work voices. WELLLLL today in the drive thru I talked to this lady for a little bit and after giving her her drinks she tells me that I have a really nice voice and says that she knows that that's an odd complement but her and her daughter both knowticed it. She even said that it was soothing. Horray my complex is over. . . but wait. . . does this mean that MY voice is nice. . . or my work voice.