together through life

You know you work at a group home when:

2011-02-07T16:34:00.000-08:00

-you spend most of the day hearing teenage girls talk about boys, their hair, or what they're going to wear tomorrow to school

-a fight for who uses the phone is a nightly occurrence

-a lucky day rolls around where you get paid to actually take girls to the beach, the mall, or on a hike.

-you know every single pop and r&b song word for word

-you have become strangely good at "Just Dance"

-it's normal to not get one "thank you" after you spend 13 hours trying to meet the needs and desires of 6 young girls

-you have to take a deep breath every 15 minutes just to keep yourself from breaking down

-you're on a first name basis with the local cops

-you go home and all you can think of "did i consequence her right?" and "is she gonna hate me tomorrow?"

i am a residential counselor at a girls group home. i have been doing it for about 5 months now. i've had some challenging work experiences in my day, but this one takes the cake.

it's a 24/7 facility which means we have 24 hour awake care. which means that sometimes my job is to stay up all night and check on the girls every 30 minutes. we do that to make sure they haven't run away. or that they haven't tried to hurt themselves at some point in the night. sad, but reality. it's a level 12 group home. the highest level of care in santa cruz county. the highest is level 14, which essentially is institutional lock down. there are two homes within the organization Haven of Hope. i work mainly at the house for younger girls, 12-15. there are 6 of them. they can be terrors. and they can be gems. one of the toughest parts of the job is adjusting to their constant shifts in mood. they can literally be yelling and swearing at me one second and laughing hysterically and hugging me the next. it's a lot to roll with.

i find that when people close to me ask me about my job, i tend to complain about it a lot. i think sometimes i get consumed with the negativity that surrounds me when im working. and sometimes i don't feel like these girls get to see me for who i really am. because when i'm working i'm in "mom" mode. making sure they do their homework, get their laundry done, clean their rooms, be nice to one another, dress appropriately, and most importantly, what is on my mind every second i am on shift....keeping them safe. and keeping them safe looks different day to day. i've been there 5 months and i feel like they all have changed. grown up before my eyes. and they're dealing with harder and harder things each day.

yes, my job is difficult. and i have to see sad things. but i get to BE the person to be in their lives for the sad things. i get to be the one sitting on the bathroom floor with a girl as i wipe away the blood on her wrists from when she cut herself. and i get to tell her how amazing she is. and that there is hope.

i get to be the one who listens to their stories. who watches them unravel the experiences they've had and can hug them when they realize they have a long way to go. when they're scared of tonight and what they might do. when they're scared of tomorrow for who they might become. and i get to look them in the eyes and tell them how proud i am, for overcoming, for maintaining. and that it WILL be ok.

the broken

2010-10-31T00:02:00.000-07:00

we've all heard it. and for those of us lucky enough we've seen it lived out.

the idea that God uses the broken to bring Him glory. a "broken and contrite heart" is what Scripture tells us He accepts as a sacrifice.
this concept is one that has been on my heart for a while now. i have been blessed to see broken people around me being used for the Kingdom, to come along side other broken people to remind them that they're not alone, and that not only is it ok to be broken, but it is good.

a few weeks ago i decided to go through the Bible and look for all the stories and references of brokenness. and i've been reading these stories of these people who were broken, but joyful. symbolism of brokenness is all over Scripture.

in Genesis Jacob's natural strength was broken when "his hip was wrenched" that he came to a point where God could clothe him with spiritual power.
it wasn't until Moses struck the rock in the book of Exodus, breaking it's surface, that cool "water came out of it for the people to drink".
it was not until Gideon's three hundred specially chosen soldiers "broke the jars thats were in their hands" which symbolized brokenness in their lives, that the hidden light of the torches shone, bringing terror to their enemies.
the poor widow who broke the seal on her only remaining jar of oil and
began to pour it. it was then that God miraculously multiplied it to pay her debts.
esther risked her life and broke through the laws and got favor to rescue her people from death.
Jesus broke the five loaves and the bread was multiplied to feed the five thousand. through the simple process of the loaves being broken, the miracle occurred.
my favorite story has always been of Mary breaking her beautiful jar of expensive perfume, destroying it's usefulness and value, yet allowing the wonderful fragrance to fill the house.
it was when Jesus allowed His precious body to be broken by thorns and nails that His inner life was poured out like water, for thirsty people to drink and then live.

i spent days pouring over these stories, amazed at God, for His intentionality and His sovereign plan.

and then i started thinking about plants (once a naturalist, always a naturalist) and how it is only when a seed is buried and broken in the earth that it sprouts, producing hundreds of other seeds.

and so it has always been, all the way down through the history of plants and people....God uses BROKEN THINGS.

i think about the people i have been blessed to meet in my life and the brokenness they have endured through their relationships, their finances, their health, their dreams, and their reputation. He uses those who seem totally hopeless and helpless. i'm not writing this because i'm helpless. but i'm writing it because this week i needed a bit of hope. the past few months have been full of adaptation, refining, change, hard adjustments, and reminders to constantly change my perspective to the healthier one. the past year the Lord has broken me in many ways. as painful as it's been, the dust is now starting to settle and through it i am able to see where He has brought me. i see Him using my brokenness to bring Him glory, even if in the tiniest of ways. the idea that we serve a God who will break us to show us more of Him astounds me. and so i will continue to offer myself, a living sacrifice, to continue to be broken. i encourage you to go through and read the all the parts of Scripture where it talks about something or someone being broken. i guarantee you'll come away with a bit more hope.

It's the little things...

2010-08-29T19:45:00.000-07:00

Tonight my dad took me out to dinner.
A dinner date.
A dad-daughter date.

He taught me how to make a paper airplane. Out of a Spaghetti Factory placemat.
And I guess there's a lot I could say about that. But, when it comes down to it...I just thoroughly enjoyed the moment.

More than four walls and a steeple

2010-08-28T13:42:00.000-07:00

A friend gave me this book recently when I was visiting my Mount Hermon home. There are many things I love about people giving/recommending books to me. I love when someone knows me so well that I can say something and they instantly think of the book that is relevant to the conversation that I just HAVE to read. I love people that fall in love with a book and then buy a bunch of copies of it to keep on hand to give to people. The author, Barbara Brown Taylor, reminds me of Anne Lamott. If you haven't read anything of Lamott's, drop what you're doing and go get one of her books. I recommend Traveling Mercies to start with. Both Anne Lamott and Barbara Brown Taylor write in such beautiful ways, putting their journey's of faith into words and inviting the reader to join them. The words are honest, transparent, and vulnerable. I don't know anyone who couldn't relate to what they say about the reality of loving God and others.

She writes a lot about church, and the different places she has met God. It got me thinking of the different places I have met God. I have loved many churches in my life, starting with the church I was raised in and still go to whenever I am in my hometown. Fellowship Bible Church. Where everyone knows who I am and have watched me grow up. Where people gather around you in prayer and lay hands on you when you're going through something hard or leaving to go somewhere new. They are the ones who brought meals to us when my mom was sick, who lovingly and honestly brought our family out of some of the darkest times we've been through, and who me and my dad went to Liberia, Africa with where I experienced God through the eyes of the women who spent all day cooking and cleaning for us, and through the eyes of the little children who held my hand even they didn't even know my name. FBC will always be home.
Then it was SALT, the Christian college ministry I was a part of for 4 years and interned for. I met God in the sanctuary, sitting on the floor, holding the hands of a friend and weeping in shame. In the intern room, with 9 other people, as my belief system got rocked.
Then it was Crossfire, the middle school youth ministry I was a part of for 3 years. I met God dancing and singing loudly alongside 6th grade girls, in a room where those girls shared their insecurities and their doubt in God, and in their accepting embrace every Wednesday for 3 years. They loved me better than a lot of people did and they were only in middle school.
Then it was Mount Hermon. 3 summers on Conference Center Staff I met God in circles of junior high girls on the grass talking about who they wanted to be and why it was so hard to get there. In Evergreen cabin, with girls with anorexia, depression, low-self esteem, and broken hearts, yet with the deepest desire to understand how much God loves them.
Then it was Outdoor Science. In the walls of the A-frame was where I lived when I lost the most important person to me, where I wept alongside a good friend and prayed that my scars would be healed, where I came back to after every class for most of Spring semester and cried because learning how to be a good teacher of something you have no idea how to teach is just plain hard and humbling, and where I was when I came back to Scripture and to the God that was waiting for me all along. My eyes were open to Him in the A-Frame. This was where the blindfold began to come off.
Then it was the Hitch. I met God here in the kitchen, where me and my roommates would gather to cook and have conversation. I met Him on the roof, watching countless sunsets, drinking beer, and listing the good things on the bad days with a great friend. I met Him under the canopies of the redwoods teaching about the root systems and how each tree's roots connect to one another to stay standing, watching 5th graders eyes get wide as they sat in awe of the majestic trees. I met Him on the trail, with 15 kids following me, trusting in me. I met Him teaching Outdoor Science, because once you know a bit about nature you see Him EVERYWHERE.
Then it was West Virginia. In the eyes of 3 people wanting to be led. In the calming voice of a strong woman in her office. In the conversation shared on a piece of grass outside the church at 1 am with a very wise mother of twins. In the hugs and tear stained faces of homeowners we worked with, thanking us for giving them hope. In the laughter of the little kids who walked to Kid's Club each day searching for friends. Yes, I even met God in the office where I worked this summer, in the details, in the never-ending paperwork and finances, and in the phone calls with trip leaders excited and nervous about what they were about to experience. And when I was too overwhelmed to handle it all, I met God on the fire escape where I went to seek solitude and peace.
Now it's home. In my short visit here, I've met God on the deck, where countless hours have been spent just simply "being". I've met Him around a campfire with my daddio, conversing about all that is good and hard and beautiful about this world. I've met Him in the faces of the old friends I have been blessed to sit down with and listen to what He has done in their lives the past 6 months. I've met Him in the late hours of the night when I can't sleep and my thoughts wander to that person, or that time, or why this or why that. He has been there in those fears, in those insecurities and worries. I've met Him in the overwhelming awe of His sovereignty and faithfulness, as all the details come together for me to have a new season of life in Santa Cruz.
Next it will be a red cabin at Mission Springs, with a porch swing and a fire pit, with 2 girls who I don't know much about but already love very much. And in the new job awaiting me and the people I will interact with and love. Yes, He will be there too. And my prayer is that I would find four walls, with or without a steeple, to congregate in with other people who want to follow Jesus and understand how to do this thing in this life together. But I will meet Him in that place. Yes, He is already there.
I know this is a long entry. But when you take the time to think about all the places you've met God...well, you would be surprised at what comes to mind too.

I see Him everywhere. I feel Him all the time. And I love Him more every day.

Hands and Feet

2010-08-20T17:29:00.000-07:00

Whenever you're away for a summer doing something fairly awesome, like I had the privilege of doing this summer, you come back home and you get the "questions":

"How was it?"
"What did you learn?"
"What was the highlight?"
"Do you have an good stories to tell?"
"Would you do it again?"

These questions, while very good and necessary to think about and tell your loved ones, are a bit overwhelming. Especially because these questions are commonly asked the MOMENT you get back from your adventure, and you're just thinking "When can I sleep?" I just need to sleep." But, since I've been away from my little West Virginia life for about 2 weeks now, and since I've seen so many of the people I love the most in those 2 weeks, I've had some time to think about the answers to those questions.

I learned a lot in West Virginia.

I learned how to:
- cook meals for 70 + people for a week.
- buy stuff for those meals every week and how to pack "Tetris" style into 2 vehicles.
- balance a budget, for the first time in my 25 years of life.
- appropriatly get the attention of a lot of people "WEST VIRGINIA WHAAAAT???" "YOU KNOWWWW!!"
- lead 3 people the way they need to be led and loved
-support adult leaders instead of youth, which is all that I knew how to do before this job

the list goes on and on

I miss a lot about West Virginia too. I miss:
- Gene, the church's custodian, ringing the church bells every Sunday morning waking us up
- trying to go to the bathroom when you wake up on Sunday mornings and having a bunch of small tikes from the nursery looking at you as you stumble down the stairs in a sleepy stupor
- "I mean...", "Here's the thing...", "Where's Paul?"
- playing computers with my staff till the late hours of the night, saying every now and then "We really need to go to bed...."
- getting pied in the face on Friday mornings and sitting in dairy filth for 3 hours before we got to take showers. Or maybe that was just me...
- Paperwork finishing/scanning/emailing crazy-ness and me literally LOSING MY MIND
- my staff just knowing me so well. when to ask me questions, when to come in the office and when to stay out, when to take me out of the office and away from the Site Director nonsense details, when to make me laugh, and when to just let me be one with the paperwork...
- getting all the groups together on the church's front steps on friday mornings to take a group picture and then taking pictures of ourselves with their cameras
- that one time Kasi shut the cats tail in the van door while 80 people were watching
- talking to Bob every day when he walked his dogs
- drinking coffee and chatting with Pam, the church's secretary, every morning after the crews left about life, God's faithfulness and goodness, why she thinks I should get married and to who, and about the silly quirks of the people around us
- the huge inflatable water slide in the pouring rain. best weekend EVER.
- the Sunday night jambalaya staff meal intro
- calling Tom by his full name
- pillow talk with Kasi
- Paul- "TOMATOES!" Enough said.
- worshipping with a room full of high school students and adult leaders and along side my staff, singing His praises even when we were so tired, beat down, and dragged out, with nothing left to give, missing home, but singing...still singing.
- knowing we would be loved unconditionally wherever we went
- my staff. i miss everything about who they were. and what they meant to me in that season of my life. they loved me so well. they always gave me what i needed. did what i asked. did things before i even asked, actually. saw who i was. who i wanted to be. and accepted me for where i was at. i couldn't have asked for better people to work with. and i saw Jesus in them every day.

I think I could go on for a long time about the way West Virginia impacted me this summer.
But overall, I saw the the people of that state, the groups that came to us each week from all over the country, and the 3 people on my team be the hands and feet of Jesus.

There's a lot you learn from that. There is a lot you are convicted about from that. There is a lot of joy in that.

I'll never forget Mingo County, WV. The little brick church on the corner in Williamson. I am forever changed because of that place.

Humidity, Healing, and Hugs

2010-07-13T07:13:00.000-07:00

Humidity.

We’ve become pretty used to it here. 6 weeks after taking up residence in Williamson, WV we are now becoming used to things that make this place what it is. We’re getting used to being in air conditioned buildings and then walking outside and being hit with a wave of heat, wet heat, that makes you feel like you just got out of the shower. But of the adaptations we’re dealing with I would say humidity is the smallest of them.

We’re becoming used to sitting in Pam, the church secretary's office every day, talking about the weather, how we’re doing, and how she is being impacted by us being there. The other day I went up to have some Pam time and she looked up at me and just started crying, saying how she had been listening to us worship with the youth earlier that morning during devos. That our voices being lifted up to Jesus touched her, and that she needed it. We talked about how healing it is to listen to voices worship in genuine praise to their God. She had her Bible open the whole morning, pouring over the Word, soaking it in like a sponge. I saw her earnestly seeking Jesus’s face that morning, and it’s what I needed to get through the week.

We’re becoming used to the community members, their personality’s and mannerisms. For example, Hazel, an elderly church lady who runs the kitchen at the church we’re staying in, is quite the character. We’ve had some “Hazel Encounters” that scared us to the very core. No one comes between Hazel and her kitchen. So we are all now extremely paranoid about keeping it “clean for Hazel”. But she’s very sweet and never fails to embrace us in hugs when she sees us. Always smiling. Always wanting to serve and love.

Gene. The church’s janitor. Always available to help us out with anything we need. A key broken off in a door. A clogged toilet. Who to talk to about...well...everything. Gene knows.

Pastor Jerrod. We love this man. Best accent in all of West Virginia. And some of the best preaching this side of the Mississippi :)

Pastor Greg. He has recruited for our Kid’s Club all year. He and some of his congregation have formed a healthy meal plan for the kid’s of Kid’s Club, so that we are able to give them healthy, abundant lunch items each day they come. Good man. Funny man. He never fails to crack us up.

The list goes on and on. Joe the Barber. Pierce Witt. Virginia. Iris. Pastor Ferd and his family. Sam from across the street. Pastor Mike and his congregation of Parsely Bottom Church that welcomed us in the most overwhelmingly loving way we have ever experienced. The ladies from the women’s shelter. The elderly folks at the nursing home. Rawl Freewill Baptist Church. The homeowners of the work project’s we’re doing. Debbie, Jackie and Nora, William and Ida, WC and Charlie, and Verna. And all of them, every single one of them, have shown us the upmost hospitality. Hospitality I have never been able to fathom.

We have all had to go outside of who we are comfortable with being. We have all been challenged to love deeper. To love when it’s the last thing we want to do, when it hurts too much, and when we aren’t getting anything back in return. We have been forced to give grace and receive grace.

Our pride has shown.

So has our humility.

So have our scars and wounds that were put on our hearts long ago but are re-surfacing this summer. Healing is happening for all of us individually.

This is still hard. I think it will continue to be hard. But we are learning to be a community. And we are learning to be a family.

I work on a staff of good people. With hearts so full and focused on Jesus. And even though there are days when all 4 of us question the reason of why we’re here, working for YouthWorks, with these people on our staff, doing the job we were hired for and so often feel so inadequate in, we are here together. And we don’t understand it. And that means something.

What is going on here in Williamson is what I think of when I think of the Kingdom of God. People walking hand in hand, side by side, with one another, and loving without bounds. Who are WE to get to be witness of lives being transformed each week? Who are WE to have a job in which we are required to stop each day and focus on the Lord and His goodness and faithfulness? Who are WE to be in relationship with these community members, most who have led lives so far from what we know, and yet we’re able to find a common ground of Jesus. We’re able to seek unity together. Why does He allow us to be a part of something this spectacular?

I really can only think of one reason.

Because in Mingo County, in the little 112 year old brick church on the corner, it’s making us love Him more.

And if my entire summer in Williamson was dedicated to make me love Him more, then this morning I fall on my knees in gratefulness.

West Virginia...Mountain Mama...Country roads...Take me Home.

2010-05-23T05:42:00.000-07:00

NEXT STOP: Mingo County, West Virginia

i'm looking forward to being this kind of woman. but only for a summer. :)

i'm looking forward to the sunsets.

i'm looking forward to this being my backyard.

there are many other things i'm excited about. a new place. new people. the east coast..which..lets face it..is a new culture. new job. new new new. and i'm learning to like change. and i'm learning to let go of the things i have grown so accustomed to.

yesterday as i packed up my santa cruz life and said the last tearful goodbyes i felt a type of anxiety i haven't felt in a long time. i couldn't string words together properly. i couldn't stop shaking. a friend told me that you can tell yourself over and over that you're ok and that the transition isn't affecting you that much, but the truth is that your body knows when you are in a state of change. and the physical effects of that anxiety sometimes cannot be ignored. and i've been thinking about how wonderful it would be to just have one week to tie up loose ends and rest and spend time with the people i love in that place. but would i really be ready to go then? i don't think we're ever fully ready to make a transition. because transitions mean you're leaving something or someone behind.

i miss them all already.

i'm sure i'll blog later about the wonderful memories of santa cruz, but for now my mind is on what is ahead of me. 3 teammates waiting for someone to guide them through this crazy summer, an empty church waiting to be filled up with laughter and life and love and conversation and brokenness and growth, 9 weeks of different churches coming to mingo county to serve and be served by my team, there are prayers to be prayed, stories to be heard and stories to tell. the list goes on and on. and even though i have an idea of what my summer might look like...i have no idea at all.

get excited. west virginia stories to come.

revealing a promise

2010-04-24T18:13:00.000-07:00

i have spent the last year and a half of my life trying to learn a lot of things and fulfill a lot of roles. but one of the biggest and most important roles i have tried to understand has been the role of teacher. before outdoor science, i had been in a teacher role but in different capacities. more of a spiritual teacher, guide, and mentor. which is totally different than a 5th and 6th grade experiential education teacher. or is it? the content i had been comfortable with teaching changed. from the bible to an outdoor science nature filled book of activities, games, and songs. from teaching about how to follow Jesus, to how to experience photosynthesis, the water cycle, and how to have adventures in nature. it went from leading small groups of high school girls to a bigger understanding of who God is to leading big groups of pre-pubescent kids on nature hikes, leading them to a bigger understanding of who THEY were. many things changed in my teaching...and Lord knows i've learned a lot. and not the easy way.

i would say that it took me a good year to really understand what it means to be a good teacher, what it looks like to not simply offer the answer or the solution to the problem, but to create the existence of a question, and how to be a support to my students, not in the way i thought they needed to be supported, but the way each individual kid needed to be supported. it came with a lot of frustration. a lot of being frustrated at myself for not being good enough. and frustrated at my students for not fulfilling my unfair expectations. it came with a lot of tears. it came with confusion (why am i here? how much do i really care about this? how can i be better? do i want to be better?) but i think most of all, it came with a lot of encouragement, support, and affirmation of those around me who were attempting the same thing i was: to be a good teacher. i'm not sure i would've got through this job without the people who were always right there to remind me of who i am, what my gifts are, and that this place wouldn't be the same without me, that the students in my trail groups need me and what i have to offer. i'm forever indebted to those people. they kept me sane.

what has taken me a long time to understand (why is it that it takes so long to understand the simplest of ideas?) is that good teaching is creating a space where there is open communication to ask questions fearlessly, and for both teacher and student to provide their life experiences as the means of their most valuable source or growth. but of course, this must be paired with a large amount of trust, which isn't easy to get in just 5 days, let alone with middle schoolers. something i've been noticing with my students, and even with my staff, is the importance of making them feel valuable, like they have something to offer to the whole. insecurity about our own abilities never really goes away as we get older. our gifts always need to be drawn out, affirmed, and challenged.

i've been reading henri nouwen's book "reaching out" and something he says as he is writing about the movement from hostility to hospitality, is that "a good host is the one who believes that his guest is carrying a promise he wants to reveal to anyone who shows genuine interest" and "we will never believe that we have anything to give unless there is someone who is able to receive." i am beginning to understand how much this is true of not just my peers, but all people who come through my story. right now these kids are a huge part of this chapter of my story. and i have no doubt that they have a promise they want to share with me. all i have to do is show that i want to hear it. easier said than done.

Jesus did not just teach. He reached out to our most personal needs. my prayer is that i can continue to learn how to do this well with these kids, and with each person that comes through my story. and that i would learn how to reveal my promise to them.

fighting till we're in HIs arms

2010-04-09T20:10:00.000-07:00

Last year during this time we had a school come to outdoor science with an AMAZING group of counselors. these guys brought so much spirit into the week; giving their boys bandanas with nicknames on them, performing crazy songs up front at line up, and just investing all of themselves into those 5 days, with those kids in their cabin, and with us. now, us as naturalists don't ever really pour a lot of effort into the counselors. of course, we need them. and some weeks they are a huge help. but then there are others where the counselors are more of a burden to the group than a blessing. but not these guys. these guys for sure blessed us.
there was one guy counselor who was deeply impacted by his week at outdoor science. he ended up writing a letter talking about how much he was impacted in those 5 days. he left mount hermon changed. but we didn't really know the whole story. the cool thing is that ramsey stayed on our hearts and minds long after that week. and we prayed for him that whole year, stayed in contact with him, and thought about him a lot. we usually don't think about the counselors at all after they've left. our schedule is so crazy that before we know it we're onto the next group of kids and counselors to focus on. but ramsey stuck for some reason. a reason we did not know of until this week, one year later.
i knew he was coming this week and on sunday night i thought to myself "i wonder if he'll be my counselor, how cool would that be?" but dismissed it right away, just assuming i wouldn't get him. well i got my roster on monday morning and guess whose name is on the top of it? ramsey. i couldn't believe it. ian pulled me aside before my first class and asked me to pray with him for ramsey that week. we prayed that god would use him to impact the kiddos and that we would be used to impact ramsey. we had no clue how important that prayer was gonna be.
my week was....well...amazing is an understatement. i had 19 sixth graders. and 5 high school counselors. and the kids were great. but to be honest, it was the counselors that really made my week. ramsey made my week. i saw the kids in a different light because of him. i saw them through his eyes. and he gave me a whole new perspective to ministering to kids.
yesterday ramsey went into the office and started talking to ian about how he feels called to work with kids, how he's felt this tugging on his heart for a while. ian asked him where he thought that calling came from. that it came from god. well...long story short...ramsey accepted christ as his savior.
i see connections of this all over the place. why he came last year. why he was in tinas trail group, with someone who loved him so deeply. why he was the one counselor we thought about and prayed for all year long. why he had a special place in all of our hearts, even those who barely had any interaction with him. why he stayed in contact with some of us. why he came back. why he was in my trail group. the reasons and possibilities are endless. maybe the only reason ian was in this job was to lead ramsey to the lord. maybe the only reason ramsey came to outdoor science camp was so that he could be shown an example of the body of christ in us as a staff. so that he could be loved in a way he never has before. and so before he left today we took him into a room and gave him his first bible, signed by all of us. and we laid hands on him and prayed for him and the new life he is about to begin. we welcomed him into the family. it was beautiful.
god's goodness and faithfulness is all over this.
our god fights for his children. he will stop at nothing until they are in his arms.
again. i got to be witness to a life transformed. AGAIN. who are we to be allowed to see that? but god does it every day.
one life was drastically changed today. he will never be the same. and we will never be the same for knowing him. i love god more today than i did yesterday because i was able to watch this transformation happen. and that is exactly why he does it.
so...pray for ramsey. he's the one in the back giving me bunny ears :) he has a long road ahead of him. but the journey is sweet.

rain rain rain

2010-04-03T09:24:00.000-07:00

a few nights ago us naturalists experienced something at work that we had never experienced before: POURING RAIN ON NIGHT HIKE.

now, let me just tell you that night hike, by itself, with no weather complications, is hard. i mean, you have a bunch of 5th and 6th grade kids walking behind you, most of who have never even hiked in the woods before, let alone in the dark. and they are FREAKING out. this is the night that us naturalists think to ourselves "how in the world can a child ask that many questions?" so then we proceed to send out these kids who are practically peeing their pants in fear to walk by themselves in the dark on their solo walk and we act like its just no big deal, i mean, we do this every week. after the solo walk we usually spray these kids all over with glow stick juice that we have retrieved from breaking apart the glow sticks. then we put mints in their hands and tell them to wrap their fingers tightly around it because this "thing" reacts with the air and if the air gets to it the cool magical thing we're about to do won't work. we tell them to put it in their mouths and chew really hard really fast with their mouths open. "triboluminescence" is basically the light that is created when material is pulled apart (in this case chewed) through the breaking of chemical bonds in the material. so the kids see this crazy blue spark in each other's mouths and freak out. it's fun. you can do this too! just buy some lifesaver mints, get in a dark room and prepare to be amazed.

all this to say, night hike has become such a normal thing for us. i forget what a big deal it is for these little guys. we usually always have great weather for night hike, with maybe a few weeks with no stars because of the clouds, but for the most part we have pretty smoothly run wednesday nights. but this past week it was a downpour of unexpected rain. the kids had pretty good attitudes about it, which was encouraging to us as naturalists because we did NOT. i set out with my kids and did all the normal night hike stuff, just in the pouring rain. they could barely hear me teaching over the rain pelting our rain jackets and ponchos. i set up my solo walk the way i normally do, telling them my story of my own personal solo walk experience when i came down to mount hermon for training before outdoor science started, how i was already so proud of the things they had accomplished that week and the fears they had overcome. i told my counselors to send them one minute apart and then me and some of the teachers set out to mark the path with glow sticks. i had 6th graders that week and i really wanted to challenge them, so i had planned to make my solo walk a bit longer than usual. about half way through we ran into a GIANT puddle the entire width of the trail, about 6 inches deep. i had to end my solo walk there because i knew the kids would've had to swim through it and then they would complain and well...i've learned how to pick my battles in this job. they all made it back safely, mostly just complaining the solo walk was too short. at this point it was starting to rain harder and harder and i made the executive group decision to start heading back to camp to finish up my last bit of teaching in a dry room. and before i knew it, night hike was over. i went back to the office to drop off my radio and saw the faces of my fellow staff. some were actually crying. some looked so mad i knew they just didn't even wanna talk about it. it had been one of those nights where we have to just walk home and go to sleep immediately and hope the next day is better. i went to my room and started looking for my phone, only to find it at the bottom of my backpack completely soaked. it was broken. i put it in a bowl of dry rice to dry it out like everyone always says to do, but i knew it was probably a goner. the next day i went to the verizon store and got a new phone. but not just a regular new phone, oh no. i got this little gem of joy:

and now my life will never be the same. i mean...the things we can do with phones nowadays blows my mind. and i have a love/hate relationship with the fact that i can be on facebook in one second wherever i am. but the night from hell, night hike in the rain, resulted in some good. and that was the only night hike experience those kids have ever had. so thank you, God for the rain on wednesday night. it will make me grateful every wednesday night hike we don't have rain...and God thank you, thank you, thank you...for the Blackberry Curve.

transformation

2010-03-27T20:26:00.000-07:00

i talked to my wonderful friend hannah tonight for a long time. what is great about a friendship like hannah and i have is that we pick up right where we left off. we haven't seen or talked to one another in 3 months and even though we only really call each other when things get hard, there is a level of understanding there. we both know that it's ok to do that. hannah and i have been through so much together. we met in college about 3 and a half years ago. the photo here is of us at our "wear yellow, eat jello" party where we all dressed in yellow and had a lot of jello shots. :) it's funny. the way i'm leaning on her, closing my eyes, comfort all over my face..is quite similar to what she did for me in college. she came into my life right in the midst of the worst pain i've ever been in. she walked with me in and out of that season of my life. she cried with me as i wept with tears of loss and confusion. she celebrated with me when i made a choice. and she continued to do these things as time went on. she knows me at my worst and my best. she knows my soul.

and tonight we talked about the pain she is in. me and hannah struggle with a lot of the same things in relationships: loss of individuality, wanting control, manipulation, shame, and fear. we relate on levels you just don't find with someone every day. and i sat on my roof tonight and listened to the deep rooted pain in her heart and in her words, as i stared out at a beautiful valley, in this amazing place that i live. and i could just feel her growth. i'm not sure there is any better feeling than being privileged to walk with someone in deep pain and then see them emerge into a better version of themselves, to a larger understanding of the world and their place in it. i could hear the clarity in her voice. the empowerment that she never had, or that she had lost. and tears streamed down my face and i just sat there in awe. i've talked about this a lot with my dear soul friend beth. (hi beth!) why does God allow us to be witness to transformed lives? it's one thing to struggle with the fact that He even desires to transform our lives at all. but to let us watch someone change, be transformed, be set free? i don't understand that. the only conclusion i can come to is that it is when we see those transformations that bring us to a bigger understanding of who HE is. it is to bring HIM glory. we do indeed change when we watch these transformations.

the amount of people's lives i have seen transform in just this past year is huge. and i understand more of...well...everything because of being a part of their story's. i have no doubt i'll get to watch other people transform when i leave this place. so...thank you hannah crowley...for reminding me tonight of the big things that can happen when someone takes a risk. and for reminding me of who i am. and who i want to be.

you're never too old for an easter basket

2010-03-23T22:12:00.000-07:00

growing up my brother and i would wake up easter morning to easter baskets on the kitchen table. we have so many pictures of us in our pajamas reaching into brightly colored baskets, as green "grass" came pouring out, to find big chocolate bunnies and a special present for each of us like a yo-yo or a sticker book. as we got older it became cd's and movies. normally, this tradition ends when kids leave the house and become adults. well...not the robey family.

i'm writing this blog because today i got an easter basket in the mail from my mom. well, not a basket. a package. and the cutest thing is that she hasn't stopped sending me an easter package since i moved out of the house 6 years ago. my package today consisted of A LOT of chocolate. i don't even really like chocolate, but for some reason today it really hit the spot. maybe it's because today i needed a little bit of comfort. today i needed a bit of home. and i felt loved because of a few chocolate bunnies and a note from my mom.

i understand easter isn't about the candy. i understand it is about so much more.

but today i am grateful for my easter basket.
today i am grateful for my mom, who loves me well and alway knows exactly what i need.

..living in a movie..

2010-03-21T14:01:00.001-07:00

the other day i was walking down the street with my friend casey. we were walking towards the beach, blankets and books in hand, sunglasses on our faces and smiles all over the place.
and i looked over at her and said "living here has given me hope that you can have a life where you feel like you live in a movie."
casey is a joy. and casey..being casey..looked back at me, gave me her famous smile that is always contagious, and said
"yeah! yeah, it does."
and then we walked in silence for a bit. and then we were by the ocean.

i live in a movie.
what i mean by this is that there are days here in this santa cruz utopia that make me feel like i am living someone else's life. i mean..do i really live here?

examples:

-it's no big deal to get off work at noon each friday and nonchalantly say to your friends "beach?"
and then to go the beach IN MARCH with 75 degree weather, hippie moms and naked babies running around you, where you sit for hours soaking up the rays and having good conversation, because..well..you have no where you need to be until monday morning.

-my office is the redwood forest.

-i live, work, and play with some very passionate and wonderfully unique individuals. while this is also a downside to my life and brings about conflict and pain..i can't quite think of anything better than it. the good times far out cede the bad.

-i live on a mountain top, in a Christian camp, where the community is full of fellow Mount Hermon staffers who desire to see lives changed, who work very hard and without a lot of thanks, to do that very thing. i drive down the street and see families i know playing with their kids and we wave to each other. maybe on some days i drive and see someone who i don't really know well, but who i know works here, and we wave to one another and smile with a shared sense of unity. we both may be here for different reasons, doing different jobs, but when you really think about it...we're here for the same reason, doing the same job. (if that doesn't make sense to you, its ok. it makes sense to me.)

-i work very long days. but in those 14 hour days, i spend most of the time being witness to kids coming to a bigger understanding of themselves, their friends and family, nature, the world, and god. no big deal. just..my job.

-long days, yes. only a 2 and 1/2 hour break each day. but during that break you can usually find me up on my roof, with a beautiful view, relaxing and soaking up the sun with good friends nearby.

-santa cruz culture. enough said.

-and last but not least...my favorite part of this place. mount hermon is a place people come to heal. they may not know it when first accepting the job, they may not even know it a few months in. But time and time again i have seen people realize that they came to this place broken, and messy, and doubtful. and that god is doing something big.
this mountain is sacred. and it changes you. you leave transformed. it's almost as if god surfaces every painful thing you could possibly deal with and he lays it out on the table in the time you are working here. in my 3 summers at conference center and almost year and a half of working for outdoor science i have seen countless lives restored. i have been abundantly blessed with walking along side of people who are redeemed and set free. in fact, i would even go as far as to say that FREEDOM is the song of this mountain.

i could go on and on. the amount of amazing sights i see each day are overwhelming. but what i know is this:

i live in a movie. i feel like i don't deserve each day here.

and when things get hard, when im exhausted at the end of the day, when relationships are fractured and i don't think i can take another step, and when i am doubting everything ive been told to be true...i need to remember this. because in 2 months i won't be here anymore. a whole new world is already starting to evolve for the time in which i will be just a memory to the people that remain. it's almost time for a new girl to come in and take my place, and have her life transformed.

and i think i'm almost ready.

Girls rule, boys...drool?

2010-03-07T18:04:00.000-08:00

in my job as an outdoor science school naturalist i have a different trail group every week. a "trail group" usually consists of anywhere between 12 and 22 fifth or sixth grade students, and normally it's one boys cabin and one girls cabin. however, there are weeks when it just works out to have an all girls or all boys trail group. some naturalists don't like this, they prefer having the balance that comes with both sexes in a group. i love that too, it's always fun to see the boys and girls interact. but for those of you that know me well, you know that there is nothing, absolutely NOTHING that makes me happier than hanging out with a bunch of middle school girls.

i have built up a reputation at my job of the one who would do anything to have an all girls trail group. im the first person they think of when they run into having to put 2 girls cabins together and im so grateful i have people working above me who know my passions and allow me to exercise them in my position.

here are some photos from a previous girls group

slug kiss pep talk
girly photo shoot
hands in

i have been blessed to have an all girls group 3 times since i started this job last year. they are always the most epic of weeks in my mind. the most recent was this past week. i had 17 fifth grade girls who radiated adventure, courage, and beauty. i think i loved them deeply the moment i met them.

i opened my intro class by saying "you girls have no idea how pumped i am that we are an all girls group this week. get ready to do things you've never done before, get ready to put dirt on your faces, get ready to experience what it looks like to be living in community with only girls for a week, and get ready to see and feel god in ways you never thought you would."

the girls start squealing/looking at me like im the coolest and craziest human being they've ever met.

the week looks a little something like this:
pushing them far past any limit their minds have ever perceived....CHECK.
talking about girly things....CHECK.
"hands in" 1,2,3 HARDCORE!!!!....CHECK.
talking to each and every one of these precious little babies about their lives and what they love....CHECK.
lots and lots of group hugs....CHECK.
lots and lots of dirt on our faces...CHECK.
getting lost and laughing it off...CHECK.
reminding them every day that they are special, beautiful, and loved....CHECK.

aren't they precious?

what i loved about this past week, and what i usually love about most weeks, is being at the front of the line, leading the group down a trail, and hearing the things that come out of their mouths. for example:

on night hike "there is no way anyone else but god could have created all this. i mean, he is so CREATIVE!"
at the climbing wall "sarah, im scared. i try to pray. i pray all the time. but i don't feel god"
after climbing wall class "i pictured us as the harness and jesus as the hook that connected us to the rope. because before jesus we weren't connected to god."
after finishing night hike "my parents couldn't afford for me to go to science camp. so people donated money. and im so grateful i was able to come, because ive learned so much about myself here this week"

those are just a few of the little nuggets of wisdom i got to be witness to this week.

it's not like i don't like co-ed groups, it's just that, when the girls are taken away from the boys, they are comfortable being totally themselves. parts of their personalities come out that i would never get to see if boys were there to make them doubt themselves. that doesn't happen every week. some weeks i get kids who grew up together. the boys know the girls and their families very well and vice versa, and they treat each other well and they actually care about each other's feelings. but usually when you put 15 sixth grade boys and girls together, chances are they won't treat each other very well, and those girls insecurities are gonna flare up faster than i can say "sticky toed circle".

so there you have it. thats why i adore pouring so much of myself into girls lives. because who doesn't love to see people be who they are and do what they do?

as cheesy as it is....girl power is where its at.

.scarred with remembrance.

2010-03-07T12:32:00.000-08:00

i want to get a tattoo.

i've never wanted one until now. the permanence of it kinda scares me.
actually, it REALLY scares me.

but i've also never been at the place i am now.
the idea of putting something on your body, a physical reminder of a season of your life that produced large amounts of struggle and growth, a symbol of the place you were in before that season, what you have been brought out of, a memory engraved on your skin for the rest of your life that will always remind you of Him....well, i think I could jump on board with that.

for all 6 or 7 of you that read this blog (well thanks for sticking with me)...but you all know how influential this past year has been for me. january 7th, 2009 was the end of the beginning for me. i left an unhealthy life for a life of the unknown, in a new state, for a new job i knew nothing about, with a group of people that were so different than me. the past 12 or 13 months have brought me through the darkest parts of the forest, to places i never thought i would go, to a person i never thought i could be. those dark parts of the forest were long but i always saw a bit of light peeking through the trees. as i walked through the woods, God allowed people to cross my path that helped me to see His faithfulness of a bit more clearly.

i could go on and on about this, but i think psalm 18 sums it up perfectly:

"in my distress i called to the lord;
i cried to my god for help.
from his temple he heard my voice;
my cry came before him, into his ears.
he reached down from on high and took hold of me;
he drew me out of deep waters.
he rescued me from my powerful enemy;
from my foes, who were too strong for me.
they confronted me in the day of my disaster,
but the lord was my support.
he brought me out into a spacious place,
he rescued me because he delighted in me."

my distress was bondage.
my spacious place was santa cruz.
his delight is my freedom.

freedom will be the theme of my tattoo. not just for that time of my life, but for the beautiful reality that we will always be set free from things that bond us.

i'm leaving santa cruz in a few months, not knowing now where i'll be, but one thing is for sure. i never want to forget this year. i never want to forget his faithfulness. and there will be days when i do. and it's those days that i want to be able to look down at the permanent scar on my skin, look up, and keep walking.

An 80 foot indoor water slide in a Super 8?

2010-01-06T10:43:00.000-08:00

Recently I made the drive from Tacoma, Wa to Santa Cruz, CA. I have done this drive before but it's always been with other people. This time I was flying solo.

My parents, who are so so good to me in times of financial crisis and emotional turmoil (they're just good people all around) offered to pay for me to stay in a motel for a night so that I could do the drive in 2 days, thus saving me from the obvious doom of mental, emotional, and physical breakdown.

I drove all day, with a stop in Portland to buy a Mac (yes, that's right folks. I've officially reached technological heaven on earth) and stopped in Medford, OR where my mom had made a reservation at the Super 8. Now, I feel like there is a certain stigma against Super 8's, but have you been in one lately? They are getting pretty swanky. It was 10:30 pm and I was exhausted. I was a weary traveler walking into the lobby, circles under my eyes, the only thought in my head being "How fast can I get to a bed?" and then I saw it.

An eighty foot indoor water slide. I mean, whattttt????? In a Super 8? All exhaustion left my body. My soul was uplifted. My face all smiles. Instead of " How fast can I get to a bed?" I was now thinking " Can I swim in my clothes?" "Would it look weird if I went down the slide alone?" "I wonder if they have water wings?" and "Thank you, God for this little piece of joy you have put before me."

And then I saw it. WATER SLIDE CLOSES AT 10 PM AND OPENS AT 10 AM.

Shut up.

It was 10:30 pm and I was planning on getting on the road by 9 the next morning.

My hope and joy was gone. I grumpily checked into my room and dragged my bags up the stairs to my room. I didn't even have a buddy with me to jump on the bed with. I crawled in bed. I was just about to go to sleep and put the awful, exhausting day behind me, when I turned on the TV, and hope and joy and happiness came exploding out of the TV at me in the form of........

Thank you. I can now rest in peace.

.Happy Holidays.

2009-11-27T10:40:00.000-08:00

The holidays always make me think a little deeper than usual. This has especially been true the past five years, throughout college and beyond, as I have experienced living away from home and being physically and emotionally distant from my family. I think I can speak for lots of people when I say that coming home for the holidays can bring up some emotions, whether good or bad, going home brings up stuff.

Growing up as a Robey I was a part of a larger group of people called the Lookers. My mom is the only girl in a family of four brothers. We came together at my grandma's house for every single one of the grandkids birthdays (all 11 of them) and had huge blowouts for Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. We have our traditions of course, as all families do during the holidays. For Easter, from the time all us kids were little until just recently, we had a big egg hunt in the backyard. The eggs being filled with candy and such, with the occasional dollar bill in it. As we got older the bills got higher until one Easter the aunts and uncles put a $100 dollar bill in one of the eggs. It was a mad house. I didn't find it :( For Thanksgiving we would all say what we were grateful for, pretty typical I would say, and then we would eat. And eat. And eat. The boys of the family would all go weigh themselves before and after the meal, each coming out from my grandma's bathroom with stomachs pushed out and tough faces on, all wanting to be the heaviest. Then we would play Catch Phrase and eat dessert. For Christmas all of us grand kids had these stockings my grandma has made for each of us when we were born and all 11 of them hung in her living room and we would all tear into them. We would also do a white elephant gift exchange, a tradition that has become hilarious the past few years as the gifts have become more and more outrageous. Needless to say, my extended family's traditions and holiday get-togethers have been memories all of us have held near throughout the years.

My grandpa owned an asphalt business most of his life. The business was passed down to my uncles when my grandpa died, and my mom also works for them. So do most of my cousins, my cousins friends, my uncle's friends, and my brother. Our family was all about this business. It was their lives. Money has always been affluent in this family (the Robey side living a more simple life, which I have grown to appreciate, even though back then I was very jealous of the comfortable and spoiled lifestyle my girl cousins had). Money was always being discussed and debated. Money was very important to the Lookers. One day, about 4 or 5 years ago, we found out that one of my uncles had fired his brother, my other uncle, from the business. This was shocking. We were all broken hearted, devastated, angry, and confused. I can't count the times I heard my grandma and mom say "Your grandpa must be rolling in his grave right now." He would never have let this happen. My extended family was always close. My cousins grew up minutes away from each other, they all went to the same schools growing up, and many of them considered each other their best friends. But when this happened, all of a sudden people stopped talking to each other. Sister-in-laws wouldn't be in the same room together, cousins got in physical and verbal fights almost monthly. It got to the point where some families would call ahead to my grandma's house before visiting just to make sure there wasn't a chance they were going to run into the ones they hated.

My extended family aren't Christians, and while this has been a root cause for a lot of their greed, alcoholism, anger, and bitterness, it was never more evident than when nobody, absolutely NOBODY would forgive one another. My mom, a prayer warrior for her family for years, wept about this for so long. Well it's been 4 or 5 years and it's been a long, painful journey with thousands of "He said, she said" moments, gossip, run-ins with the enemy, formal sit down interventions from my mom to her brothers in the board room of the offices, physical violence, verbal abuse, and the deepest hurt our family ever thought was possible.

I set out to write this blog about the holidays. All of what I've written up until now is about to make sense. You see, everyone in this family has tried to be flexible, humble, and gracious when it came to attempting to keep things, like holiday family gatherings, as normal as possible. No one likes change. Especially the baby of the entire family (me) who has treasured her 24 years of beautiful family tradition. But it seems like everyone is just getting tired. Tired of the masks they're forced to wear. Tired of trying to make others happy. Tired of the greed. And so it's come to this. Thanksgiving is no longer a 7 hour day full of 40 people, board games. food, laughter, and love. It is now a 3 hour, maybe 10ish people event (the 10 people coming to my grandma's house simply to make her happy) where people eat and run. Christmas will be non-existent this year. All 5 family's will spend this holiday that is supposed to be about the love of our great God, grace, and giving....alone. It breaks my heart. I don't want things to change. I want to storm up to my uncles fancy million dollar offices and put my finger in their faces and tell them to quit being so immature and greedy and to buck up and do the right thing, to forgive "those who have trespassed against them", to think about what their father must be thinking, to look at the face of their mother and sister and try to feel a bit of the pain they must be feeling.

I am angry. But I refuse to be like them.

These holiday changes have forced me to think about what is really important about this season we celebrate each year. i want to remain thankful for the 24 years of great Looker/Robey family memories we've all shared. I want to remain optimistic, yet realistic about the future of our family. I want to make new traditions, with just my immediate family. I want to show my mom that the holiday's can be just as full of love and merriment as ever before, even though she won't be with her brothers and their families.

This season is about Jesus. That cold night in Bethlehem. Celebrating our King. Our Emmanuel. GOD WITH US. This shall be the song of my heart this holiday season.

I choose to love my family unconditionally, without expectation. I choose to make this Christmas one of life, not death of something we have been holding onto far too long. I choose Him.

I choose Emmanuel.

::power in silence::

2009-10-17T15:02:00.000-07:00

for 24 years i thought i was an introvert.

when i was younger, i was a big fan of slumber parties. my friends and i had them all the time. we would make "candy salads" in which each girl would bring a different candy and we would combine all of it in one big bowl and well....you can only imagine the chaos. 10 girls bouncing off the walls, dancing on the couches to mariah carey, and really regretting renting that scary movie that sounded so fun at the time.

ive always been a "people person". most people are, i think. and those slumber parties are some of my fondest memories growing up. but what i do vividly recall is the post-slumber party sarah. i would be exhausted. so burnt out and overstimulated. i would come home and go upstairs to my room and literally be there for an entire day. "re-charging" as my mom called it. i needed to go be by myself in order to regain sanity again. i needed to do things i loved. i needed to read (baby-sitters club and sweet-valley high, of course). i needed to listen to the silence.

i have continued this habit my whole life. taking time away from people each day is what makes me a better friend, co-worker, daughter, sister, and teacher.

part of the outdoor science program includes spiritual development. my boss's husband, todd, leads us in bi-weekly exercises in which we learn how to pray in different ways, see scripture in a new light, talk about what we are learning about God, evaluate how we interact with those around us and how we can do it better, how to be more culturally aware with the groups that are in front of us each week and in our community's, what healthy community looks like, etc etc etc. such good stuff. most of us come away from what we lovingly call "todd time" with tear stained faces, a bit emotionally exhausted, but also with a new perspective. i always come away from my todd time loving God more.

one aspect of our spiritual development for last semester was to take some personality tests, the purpose being to understand a bit more about ourselves and those we live and work with. we all really got into it. there is an entire word culture to these tests. i started hearing conversations like "i'm an ISFJ. what are you?" "oh ok, i get it. it's because you're a Guardian. i am an Artisan."she is a Thinker. i am a Feeler." wait...what? for a while i started viewing my co-workers in these categories. i saw myself through the lense of these personality characteristics. i tested as an ISFJ (introverted-sensing-feeling-judging). most of these made perfect sense to me. they made sense to my friends. except for the "introverted" part. they all said there was no way i was an I. i fought it of course, explaining how much i ache for that alone time every day. how people wear me out. they said that i light up with people. that i am energized by them. that i have to be an "E". i decided to take a more detailed accurate form of the same test just to make sure, to appease them. i tested as an "E". i laughed out loud. really? me? an extrovert?

can i just not be labeled as anything? i would like to just be sarah. please and thank you.

the point of all this babble is that recently i realized that i was not taking good care of myself. i had felt it in my body for a few weeks, but it wasn't until 2 different people on the same day told me that i don't seem happy that i really started to think about it. my life here in this place doesn't allow for a ton of alone time. we have exactly 2 and 1/2 hours off each day to be alone. however, by the time that hour rolls around we are all usually tired and needing a nap, having to run errands, or want to take that time to hang out with people outside of our work environment. my break usually involves a slurpee with carissa, a nap in my room with emelia, time on facebook, and maybe..just maybe...a book. the bible if im lucky? rarely do i have time alone. and i know that its a choice. and i don't listen to my body enough. all i see are people in front of me that want to hang out, people i enjoy being around, distractions in technology in which i think i might be having "alone time" but really im looking at a computer screen peering into hundreds of people's lives and being quite overstimulated by the obsession of wanting to know what somone is doing that day.

and then i get smacked by my own bad choices. the joy i normally have fades. the smiles and laughs become a bit more fake because im just too tired. my eyes are glazed over when someone is talking to me. my heart aches because i haven't been in the Word in a week or two. i got smacked in the face on wednesday night. after the 2nd person that day told me i didn't seem happy, i lost it. its so easy to forget how much we are affecting other people by our mood. i hated that people could tell. could tell that i wasn't taking care of myself. calling my mom wrapped in a blanket on our porch as the rain literally poured down all around me made me feel better. 2 honest conversations with friends and many tears shed later i was ready. i went outside with my bible. the manna that i needed. i listened to the silence. i was quiet. i wasn't thinking about anyone but me. and god. and thats all who was there on that porch that night. me and god. i heard him. i heard my heart. lovingly reminding me of what i need. the importance of taking care of myself so that i have the strength to love someone else.

this is a long blog. and i really didn't even get to the point of why i wrote it until the last paragraph. but it was healing to write it.

i hope that if you are reading this (all 3 of you?) that you are reminded to take care of yourself. you are all you have. people need you. they need your cup to overflow onto them. fill yourself today. and then look for those people that need to be saturated with the overflow.

Hallelujahs in the morning. Hallelujahs in the night.

2009-08-31T17:30:00.000-07:00

I will wait for You there
Down on my knees where I met You
Give You all of my cares
Find a grace to hold onto now
Im calling for You
I will wait for You there
far from the world and its violence
It left us broken and bare
I need to hear You in the silence now
Im calling for You
And with outstretched arms
I will sing out melodies
And my beating heart
Will pour out a symphony
Hallelujahs in the morning
Hallelujahs in the night
I will wait for you as long as I have life
I will wait for You there
Down On my knees where I met you
Cause life is a war fought with tears
But You are the strength I hold onto now

Im calling for You now.

This Phil Wickham song randomly came up today on my itunes as I was sitting in Peets. I hadn't actually listened to the words before. Tears instantly came streaming down my face.

I think it's because right now I am calling for Him. And I am down on my knees, where I continually go to meet with Him. Ive been reading alot of the Gospels and it's so beautiful how often people fall on their knees before Jesus. Such a humbling position. I NEED TO HEAR YOU IN THE SILENCE NOW.

But I feel like I'm not listening. How does one learn how to listen to the Maker of the universe? Is it even something you can learn? Or do I just need to be patient enough to sit in the silence, the discomfort, the pain? WITH OUTSTRETCHED ARMS I WILL SING OUT MELODIES AND MY BEATING HEART WILL POUR OUT A SYMPHONY.

You are the strength I hold onto now.

And then this song came up a few minutes later by JJ Heller.

I'm trying to follow
I'm trying my best to do what you said
But what about tomorrow
Are you sure I'm not in over my head

Everything is changing all around me
Is this the ending of a dream
I thought I was doing what you wanted
It isn't as easy as it seemed

I'm losing my vision
I'm fighting the doubting with all that I am
It's been awhile since you last gave me something
To go on
Tell me it's not the end

It seemed like I did everything right
Now I see that it's all wrong
Do you want me to move on
Can you tell me where I belong

The Lord your God, who is going before you, will FIGHT FOR YOU, before your very eyes, and in the desert. It was in the desert that you saw how the Lord your God carried you, as a father carries his son, all the way you went until you reached this place.-Deuteronomy 1:30-31

1740 S. Proctor

2009-08-18T22:24:00.000-07:00

I love this address. It has been my home for 24 years. But the word "home" is changing to me. Mount Hermon is the place that I now consider my home. 1740 S. Proctor, or "Little House on the Proctor" that we lovingly call it, is now just sort of the place I visit a few times a year, where my parents live, and where I store years and years worth of memories.

Today was the best day. I did all my favorite Tacoma summer things. Let me give you a little peek into my world.

Waking up late, stumbling downstairs, filling a big bowl with all sorts of fresh fruit, and heading outside to sit in the early afternoon sun.

Reading for hours on the porch swing.

Painting my toes and letting them dry in the sun.

Showering and letting my hair dry in wild and crazy ways because I know the only people I'll see that day is my family.

Listening to the little neighbor kids play in the backyard literally from 7am until when they have to go to bed. I love this because not only is the childish laughter so infectious, but their antics remind me of 8 year old Sarah, romping around the back of the house, making "stews" out of rotton apples from the ground under our apple tree, sticks, dirt, and leaves. I love sitting outside listening to Kylee, Isabelle, and baby Joe. I wonder if they will ever know how happy they make me, how they push me to remember what it's like to be young and uninhibited.

Dad making one of his famous salads and bringing me fresh veggies (like today whenI was painting and he came around me and placed pea pods on the bench besides me saying "One pea, two pea, three pea..." :)

Watching mom make a new batch of iced tea every morning, adding her "simple syrup" and filling up huge glasses, gulping it down and refilling them all throughout the day.

Laying in bed with Mom watching stupid late night TV shows and eating rootbeer and banana popsicles.

Riding my bike to the corner store for candy. I've been doing this since I can remember. It once was painted bright blue so we called it "The Blue Store" but then they painted it this weird gold color. But the name stuck. They have painted it countless colors over the years but we will always call it the Blue store.

This is just the tip of the iceburg of the summer memories I have in this place, not to mention all the other memories I have collected over the years. What I love is that no matter where I go...Ellensburg, Africa, Santa Cruz....I always return home and feel the most like me.

Full Incarnation

2009-07-08T14:04:00.000-07:00

What is it like to feel like a part of you missing? What does it feel like in your bones, your skin, the deepest part of who you are, when the one person who you thought fulfilled you is no longer a part of your life? And what if that decision to get them out of your life was a burden you carried every day? This is where I am at. Or shall I say…this is where I WAS.

I have a new found obsession with Henri Nouwen. Why have I waited 24 years to read his words? I had never even heard of this guy until April and now I’m literally trying to absorb everything he’s ever written. He’s THAT good.

In one of his books he has written a chapter called “Keep Moving Toward Full Incarnation”. Now, you know words are good when you get chills as your eyes scan across the page, when you’re reading them and inside you’re thinking “YES! SOMEONE KNOWS HOW I FEEL!”, and when you’re thinking there is no way this strange author could possibly have seen into your soul, but that’s exactly how it feels. The words resonate with you. Words have the power to make us feel not as alone as we did before we read them. Does that make sense? Well, it does to me J

“Do not discount what you have already accomplished. You have made important steps toward the freedom you are searching for. You have decided to dedicate yourself completely to God, to make Jesus the center of your life, and to be fashioned into an instrument of God’s grace.”

Ok. How beautiful is that? Being fashioned into an instrument of God’s grace? We can actually do that?

I’m not sure I have ever wanted something more than this.

“You can look at your life as a large cone that becomes narrower the deeper you go. There are many doors in that cone that give you chances to leave the journey. But you have been closing these doors one after the other, making yourself go deeper and deeper into the center. You know that Jesus is waiting for you at the end, just as you know that He is guiding you as you move in that direction. Every time you close another door—be it the door of immediate satisfaction, the door of distracting entertainment, the door of busyness, the door of guilt and worry, or the door of self-rejection—you commit yourself to go deeper into your heart and thus deeper into the heart of God.”

And….chills.

Because this is exactly how I picture healing. This is how I picture the painful process of moving toward a God that is so good, while all the addictions of the people and pleasures of our life are on either side of us.

We have a choice. We can either keep walking towards being fashioned into an instrument of God’s grace, or we can shut a few doors and keep a few open. Because those doors are just too “impossible” to close. In our heads we think that God can’t possibly be asking us to close THAT door, right? Nah.

But oh wait. Joshua 24:19 says “He is a holy God; He is a jealous God”. And He is. He wants all of me. All of Sarah Kathryn Robey. He made me. I am HIS. And He has called me His masterpiece.

When artist’s create their masterpieces, they are not just any piece of art. Their masterpieces are their life’s work. What they pour all their time, effort, blood, sweat, tears, and love into. And He has called ME His MASTERPIECE?

So why wouldn’t I want to offer Him all my affections and attention?

I want my eyes on His face always.

“This is a movement toward full incarnation. It leads you to become what you already are—a child of God; it lets you embody more and more the truth of your being; it makes you claim the God within you. You are tempted to think that you are a nobody in the spiritual life and that your friends are far beyond you on the journey. But this is a mistake. You must trust the depth of God’s presence in you and live from there. This is the way to keep moving toward full incarnation.”

Becoming fully incarnate. Becoming fashioned into an instrument of His grace.

May God's strength and peace be with me as I continue to walk down the hallway, closing the doors, and into His outstretched arms.

It's only the Beginning...

2009-05-28T19:47:00.000-07:00

From the moment I set foot on the grounds of Mount Hermon, I knew I was going to come back sometime in the future. I knew that this place would somehow be a big part of my story. After my two summers working summer staff, Outdoor Science just seemed to be a good way to make that dream a reality. Two and a half years later and a college degree under my belt, I made the big move to my dream home: Santa Cruz, CA..better yet...living at Mount Hermon. God saw the desire of my heart and blessed me with the opportunity to have my life drastically altered.

This first semester of working at Outdoor Science has been, in one word...SUPRISING.

SUPRISING. I really wasn't sure I would even enjoy teaching outdoor science. I mean, I am not a science girl. I like Art. English. Writing. I am right brained. Then I started learning about how freaking awesomenature is and now I absolutly LOVE teaching this stuff. I am actually passionate about it! Who woulda thunk??

SUPRISING. God plucked me out of a time and place in my life in Washington in which I was not following Him. I did not know Him. I could not see Him or hear Him. I wouldn't allow myself to. It just seemed too hard with what I was involved with. He literally moved me out of that place into one that screams His name every morning when I walk out the door to go to work. He physically distanced me from certain relationships and stagnation in every aspect of the word to a place full of health. This was unexpected. And while I can see the fruit of it now, I did not accept this change with a smile. I accepted it kicking and screaming. A child who didn't get their way, who realized that life doesn't always turn out the way they think it will.

SUPRISING. My friendships here. He is SOOOOO faithful when it comes to blessing me with beautiful friendships. Not only have my basic needs always been taken care of, but on top of that He has always placed me somewhere in which He blesses me with at least one person who I truly connect heart to heart with. This year that person was Char. I thank God every day for this girl, who saw exactly who I was and who I desired to be the day I met her. She battled life with me these last 6 months as I had to let go of those securities that were so engrained into the core of me. She mourned with me. Cried with me. Held me. Made me laugh as I was literally writhing in pain and agony. She and I have the ability to read eachother's minds from across the room. I love that I have someone here who I find difficult to look at it in serious situations because I know we'll crack up laughing. She can always make me smile. And she blesses me greatly in what she thinks are the tiniest of ways. Thank you, Lord for my dear sister.

Beth. I didn't even know I needed her. I had no idea when I met her (this tattooed, motorcycle riding chick with a lip ring) that she would speak so much truth into my life. I clung to her as I was losing someone so precious to me. And when I confessed things to her and walls were broken down, the first thing that came to her lips was "How has this affected your relationship with Christ?" That one sentence sums up Beth. She is someone I see Christ in every day. She has lovingly rebuked me, counseled me, held my hand, prayed with and for me, reminded me DAILY of His faithfulness, seen me at my very worst, and best of all..is constantly leading me towards Christ. I love that we have been able to walk alongside one another this semester as we battle the loss of such loved people in our lives. And that we rejoice together in His new mercies that are so evident in these trials. She is one of the first friendships I have had that is Christ centered. And not only that, but this girl can make me laugh SOOO hard. I will never forget how anticipated Wednesdays were as we taught Birds and Snakes together (as she gave me grace each week knowing how much I hated teaching snakes), and our dear elective! Oh how I loved Wednesday afternoons teaching young girls about soy candles and beeswax chapstick! Girly playlists and bonding time, embarassing Beth weekly with the BIRD story, and always making extra chapsticks for us and our friends. I will miss these days. Thank you, Lord for my Beth. And then there are all the other people I have been blessed with here, the ones in which God is still working and will continue to work through this next year.

I can't wait to see what happens this summer in all our lives. I get to live life with so many amazing people this summer at Conference Center. And then we get a whole other year to do life together at OSS. I look forward to building on top of the foundation we have started in our teaching and in our relationships. I look forward to crazy times in the OC, eating every meal together, more epic campfires, Extendo becoming my favorite day of the week (at least I hope so!) big family get togethers at the Hitch with food and laughter, and above all a better understanding of who God is.

May this blog be a space in which I can document all the memories, insights, thoughts, fears, and stories of the year ahead. The horizon is so bright.

A Beautiful Reminder

2009-05-20T23:27:00.000-07:00

Every Wednesday night we take our trail groups on a night hike. It's one of the best nights of the week because we get to show the kids how mysterious and different nature is at night, and we get to watch them conquer their fears as they do their solo walk. It's a really beautiful couple of hours. Well, it CAN be. Before every night hike I tell the kids "Ok guys..night hike can be good or it can bad, and it's up to you to make it good". And then I address all their questions and fears and we head out.

Before I left with my group tonight I just had that feeling, that feeling that you get when you just know that the night is gonna be ridiculous in a BAD way. But I shooed the thoughts away and told myself I was gonna give these kids the best possible night hike of their lives.

We headed out to this place called Gunshot which is an old shooting range across the street from Mount Hermon. It's pretty much all sand hills, dunes, trenches and LOTS of manzanita bushes. I love going there because it's so different from any other trail and the view is amazing. But I had only been on it for nighthike twice before tonight and I was a bit nervous. All of us Naturalists sign up for certain trails for the night hike so we know that we won't run into any other group. Me and Callan were both going to Gunshot so we talked about it beforehand, exactly where we were going and such. But I got to the top of Gunshot and accidentally ran into her group ending their solo walk. Oops? It actually happens alot so we've all learned to be flexible. So I just started walking past her group and started my solo walk on what I thought was the trail going back down the mountain. The trail I was on was the longest manzanita tunnel known to man! When you're in it not only does it feel like a creepy fairy tale but you forget what the sky even looks like because all that is above you for so long are low manzanita branches. I went out before the kids started to set it up and mark off where they would all end. I was walking, and walking, and walking and there was no clearing for me to end the walk on. I didn't want them to go that far and I needed to be back at camp soon so I just ended it mid-tunnel. The kids slowly but surely got to me and when they were all back I looked at my watch and saw I had only a half hour before I needed to be back at camp and we were pretty far away. Also, I hadn't even taught about bats, owls, or triboluminescence yet. So we started hiking, eventually coming out of the tunnel, but then we just kept on going. And going. And going. And....going. It was really dark by this time and I had NO clue where I was. I could hear the cars on the road, I could see their headlights, but there was still a bunch of trees between us and the road, so I couldn't really off-road it. I started to get really scared. It didn't really help that the admin on duty that night wasn't answering their phone or that my walkie-talkie was dead. It also didn't help that I had 12 kids behind me asking me the most annoying questions EVER "Sarah, how many times do you do this night hike every week?" Me: "I do it once a week" Them: "So how many times a month?" Me: "Well, how many weeks are there in a month?" Them: "4, maybe 5?" Me: "There you go" Them:"So how many times do you do it a year?" GAH!!!!! I'm trying so hard not to lose all my marbles with these kids plus I have zero clue of where I am in a pitch dark forest. I have one kid with a disability who was freaking out which was totally legit because..heck..I was freaking out! And a mom counselor who is so critical of everything I do and always gives me that LOOK. Then I have a group of girls who hate eachother and are constantly gossiping about one another behind their backs. And just to put the cherry on top of this sundae of terrible-ness: I was convinced I had a tick on my leg.

Well..with lots of perseverence and prayer we finally made it to the gate. Thank you God. I hurried them back to camp just 20 minutes late and now that all the fear, anxiety, and frustration had subsided in me I turned around to look at them getting ready to apologize for such an unexpected, long, tedious night..but then I saw their faces. They were so excited. Smiling from ear to ear. They had loved it! They had no clue we had got lost, no clue I didn't teach them everything I wanted to teach, no clue we didn't even do half the fun activities I had planned, no clue I had even broke a sweat and was internally freaking out. This was their night hike experience. The only one they knew of. And they loved it.

A humbling experience to say the least. This job is not about me. These hikes, classes, activities, etc..are NOT about me. They are about these kids. Whatever God wants them to walk away with from this week they will. Why do I beat myself up so much for not being Super Naturalist? IT'S NOT ABOUT ME. I get to be continually reminded of this and that everything is God. The words that come out of my mouth when I teach. The joy that pours out when I show them how beautiful this world is. None of this is mine. I do not claim it or own it in any way. All the praise goes to Him.

I love this job.

The New Country

2009-05-16T15:36:00.000-07:00

If you know me (and hopefully you do if you're reading this) you know that I absorb books like a sponge. I can sit down with a book and read for hours and still feel like I need more. I love everything that has to do with books. I once wanted to be a librarian just so I could work amongst books all day. (can you imagine me as a librarian? haha. oh the visual) I am drawn to any and all types of book stores. My idea of a perfect date would be browsing through hundreds of books with someone I have a major crush on. I am a nerd. I am ok with it. I am owning it.

All this to say...I have been reading amazing books lately. I have had amazing books recommended to me (if you wanna make me the happiest girl ever, tell me about a book you think I might like). And when you are absorbing all these beautiful words into your mind and heart it is quite difficult not to feel territorial of them, not to make them yours. I make words mine. I love sharing them with people I think will benefit from them as much as I did. I make these words mine and they become a part of me. Just like how every moment you have with someone becomes a part of you. Another notch on your belt. Another trinket in your satchel.

The last thing I read that impacted me was titled "The New Country". What a beautiful title of a new frontier set out before you, endless possibilities. However, it also scares me. Because newness comes with pain. It comes with change. Awkwardness. The sense of clinging to all your securities because you feel like if you let go of them you'll fall into this abyss and not know how to get out. "The New Country" talks about we can see what this new place is like, but how we are still, very much at home in the old country. You're very much at home there because as hard as it may be to live in the old, you know it so well. The happy. The sad. You wear it like an old tattered sweatshirt you can't bear to throw away because of all the moments you've had in it.

And then we realize that we have to leave this old place and step into the new place. The New Country. What I love most about what this book said about the new country is that this is where our Beloved dwells. What used to help us in the old country no longer works in the new. We don't know that what lives in this new country is what we need. It is what will work. But this requires the death of what has become so dear to you. The "death" of something is so scary to us. Why is that? The death of something is what produces new growth.

Like the redwood trees. (I'll grab any opportunity to talk about redwoods!) The main root "The Mama Stump" must be cut off and damaged, killed if you will, in order for other trees to grow from it. I love showing the kids at OSS this beautiful example of new life. When you walk into a redwood cathedral it's sad to see this huge stump in the middle, lifeless, what once was a huge glorious redwood tree, but then you look all around and see all the tall forms of life giving beings that have sprouted up from the death of that first tree.

We're so scared of death. We are so stricken with fear that we can't see all the life that is going to come out of it. This particular concept has been so precious to me lately. I know that I need to let some things die in my life, and that some of these things are the most important to me: security in relationships, friendships that are unhealthy, affection, history...the list goes on and on.

Trust is what is essential.

This book says that "the new country is where you are called to go, and the only way to go there is naked and vulnerable". This IS the only way to go there. We cannot go in holding on to anything. And yet, when we get to this new country we love it. It feels good, and we begin to understand that newness is so refreshing. And then there are moments when we miss the old country and what we once had there, and we slip and fall and go back to that place. But what I have realized is that the old country doesn't hold it's power anymore, the spark is gone, the essence you once held onto so tightly and never thought you could live without no longer resides there.

It is about risk. We need to risk our vulnerabilities, our shame, the possibilities that things won't be the way we want them to be, in order to keep going farther and farther into the new country.

The New Country is where my Beloved dwells.

A call for perspective

2009-05-02T13:33:00.000-07:00

Blogging. What a silly concept. And yet...I caved.

I love writing. I'm obsessed with actually. Nothing gives me more peace and clarity than all the thoughts in my head being transferred onto paper. And as silly as blogging is, I'm starting to see just how beautiful it can be. Why wouldn't I want my closest friends and family to have a window into my soul? To read my thoughts about God, life, humanity, etc?

So for my first blog, I want to write about perspective. Perspective has been on my mind alot lately. Many things have happened or not happened in my life lately that have required me to change my perspective on the situation in order to maintain positivity or..lets just be honest...sanity?

I'm currently reading an amazing book. It's called "The Inner Voice of Love" by Henri Nouwen. Everyone should read this book. I really have no words for how much I've learned from it. Go get it now! The last chapter I read was called "Remain attentive to your best intuitions" and I would like to put some of the best quotes from that chapter here, because this is SO where I'm at right now.

"You sense that nothing but God's love can fulfill your deepest need while the pull to other people and things remains strong. It seems that peace and anguish exist side by side in you, that you desire both distraction and prayerful concentration. Trust the clarity with which you see what you have to do. You are becoming aware of how close Jesus is to you. He holds you safe in his love. At times, memories of past events and fantasies about the future pierce your heart, but these painful incidents have become less frightening, less devastating, less paralyzing. It almost seems as if they are necessary reminders of your need to stay close--very close--to Jesus. You know that something totally new, truly unique, is happening within you. It is clear that something in you is dying and something is being born. You must remain attentive, calm, and obedient to your best intuitions. You feel a strange sadness. An enormous loneliness emerges, but you are not frightened. You feel vulnerable but safe at the same time. JESUS IS WHERE YOU ARE, and you can trust that he will show you the next step."

WOW. Jesus is where you are. I'm not sure I've ever heard more exquisite words than that. I feel Him more than I ever have before. It is simply because I am allowing myself to feel him. He is ever so slowly and painfully pulling back the old, tattered blindfold that has shrouded my eyes for so long. My perspective is completely shifting to Him. My faith feels more genuine, nitty gritty, and true than it ever has before. Than I ever thought it could be.

I love my job. I never knew how fun it could be to walk around in nature with a bunch of middle schoolers teaching them about how amazing our world is. I learn more about myself and the character of God through the awe-inspiring faces of these children than I ever have in the first 23 years of my life. This past week we had a Christian school of 7th and 8th graders. It was a tough but amazing week. Tough because my kids were really disrespectful and I had a hard time trying to get them to challenge themselves. Plus, it was super intimidating to have older kids. Like..they were my height! But the whole week was culminated in one experience we shared together: night hike. For the age they are I was really suprised how terrified they were to go on their solo walk. I was talking to them before the walk about God and how much He yearns for our attention, to spend time with us, just us. And that I wanted them to use their solo walk time to simply talk to God, because nothing makes Him more joyful than His child's undivided attention. As always, I went ahead to map out the walk with glowsticks so they wouldn't get lost. I had them remain silent at the end of the walk until all the kids were there (so much easier said than done with middle schoolers!) but I wanted them to continue to stay in that place with God. When we started to talk about what was going through their heads as they were alone with God, tears instantly came to my eyes. Because it was dark, the kids didn't seem as afraid to speak up about their feelings since noone could really see eachother. The thoughts and questions that came out of their mouths were wise beyond their years: "Why does God give us mercy?", "I felt Him speaking to me for the first time in my life", "The glowsticks made me feel safe. I knew someone was waiting for me at the end, God is the one waiting for us and the glowsticks are the road we travel in life", "This solo walk made me love God more, because I had to lean on Him in order to get through it".

Responses full of beauty, confusion, peace, fear, and love. They summed up exactly what our relationships with God often look like.

I wanted to write about perspective. My perspective of God is shifting. I am one step closer. That night those kid's perspective on God shifted. They are now one step closer. This is why my job is amazing. I get to actually watch this happen for these kids and grow with them along the way.

TOGETHER THROUGH LIFE is the title of my blog. I liked it because not only is it a Bob Dylan album title (whom I adore) but it sums up what I want this time in my life to look like. Together through life with Mount Hermon. Together through life with Santa Cruz. Together through life with these kids. Together through life with my God.

Happy reading. :)