The Unkle of the world.

If you haven't met Steph Raj, you haven't met an Unkle. I'm not sure where or how it was started that she should call herself an Uncle (much less an Unkle), but it's the truth all the same. She is the prime example of a crazy but harmless relative that rules the world and changes lives. It's really that simple.

 I'm not kidding or exaggerating when I say she is the stuff of miracles. Her ability to love people is supernatural--the kind that Jesus always talks about in the Bible. I know of no one else who so readily embraces her enemies, has patience with the poor in spirit and who sacrifices so willingly what others begrudgingly give up. Her understanding of people and their needs goes past compassion and straight to the heart of empathy. She goes into the darkest places courageously and confidently, knowing that there is always hope and light to be found even in the most desperate of situations. She fights for life and always wins, paying no mind to how big or small the victories may seem to others. It doesn't matter to her--all people are worth the same amount of care and effort in her book.

Mostly I love her because she has the best sense of humor I know. She can have fun with anyone, and makes everyone laugh at her ridiculous jokes or (affectionate) impressions. She doesn't take things too seriously, which is really an advantage in the grand scheme of things. Most importantly, she doesn't take herself seriously. Steph is the biggest example and greatest receiver of grace. She lets it permeate all of who she is as well as her actions towards others--a rare gift that few are able to acquire. She doesn't give up when things get hard or messy. Truly, the perseverance she has in believing the best in people makes those people believe the best in themselves. It's an incredible and beautiful thing, really.

The reason I can say these things about the Unkle are because 1) she has demonstrated them in my own life, and 2) she has demonstrated them towards her campers/staff every summer I have known her. We both work for a non-profit organization that serves low-income kids from New York City (an adventurous feat in itself). She is incredibly talented at counseling the young girls that are placed in her care for the week, and is able to speak to them with great authority and humility all at once. And her campers eat it up. They trust her and believe her when she talks about Jesus. They know she expects the best from them and know she is serious enough about their lives to hold them to a higher standard than the rest of the world does. She breaks them down and builds them up. They go home changed forever, knowing that they are wholly loved and accepted on a level they may never have experienced before. Miracles, I tell ya.

During the school year, Steph is studying to be a nurse, which is maybe the best profession she could ever pick short of being an Unkle. Once again, I am constantly impressed by her diligence in working towards this goal. No matter what the obstacles are that come her way, she beats the crap out of them. She is a force to be reckoned with, and never takes no as an answer. There is no doubt in my mind that wherever she ends up, she will continue to transform the lives of those she encounters. She loves hard, and isn't scared away easily. I am so blessed and so thankful to have her as one of my friends, and I know that anyone who knows her would say the same. So thanks, God, for sending her out and making her so naturally amazing--the world will never be the same.

The completing joy of community.

"I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you."

To me, community is the tangible representation of love. I have seen many examples of love being displayed individually or in particular instances. But I think that the love found in a community of close knit friends is the most beautiful of all.

Community is messy--I think that's why love found within its walls is so special. To find a group of people who are able to walk together through life faithfully and full of compassion is a unique feat worth paying attention to. Relationships take work. Relationships between couples take even more work. Relationships between and among more than three people can be seemingly impossible.

And I'm not talking about those communities in which you know peoples' names but not their hearts. You know the ones I'm talking about. The ones where you see someone in passing and promise to get coffee or catch up "when things get less busy." Let's be honest here--it's not going to happen. I always promise to give up that game, but fear of seeming rude seems to overrule that decision. It should probably be more important to me to be genuine than popular, but again, let's be honest. Most of the time, we love ourselves way more than we love others.

So, I'm talking about those small and rare communities that really live out life together. That attend every wedding, graduation, baby shower or dinner party that there is. That are present in the best of times and also in the really hard times. Most of all, the ones that are there in the pretty ugly times. The times where you are perhaps the worst version of yourself, but they still show up and love you and remind you of who you truly are again. Those are the communities I think that we were made to create and sustain, and the ones that we so often give up on.

I will be the first to say, I am absolutely terrible at community stuff. I am 100% an introvert by nature. I love being by myself. I have alot of fun by myself. It's so much easier for me to exist on my own. It's much safer, and much less complicated. You will most often find me in the corner at parties, or clinging to someone I am familiar with. I can be extroverted if I want to and am trying really hard, but it is most definitely not my first choice.

But lately, I have been craving community. It's true. All my friends are really surprised when we get together and I beg everyone to hang out or stay up or play a game together. I think it's the loss of them and the dispersion of our lives that has made me this way. I have realized how blessed I was to have such close, loving friends to experience the last five years with.

Most of all, I have been learning the healing nature of communities and those friendships within them. I was almost positive that I needed to spend this summer in solitude, prayer, and intense personal time with God. And I have needed that--it has centered me and grown my heart in many ways. But the most and best healing that has come has been from my time spent with friends. They have slowly and surely brought the Sarah back out that has been missing for the past year.


They have listened to my stories and my heartache, have encouraged me and told me truth about who I am and who God has always been. They have made me laugh so hard I cry and moved me with their own thoughts on faith and courage and life. They have been genuine--both in their love and vulnerability. They have shared themseleves in humility and offered me much, much grace.

If you find yourself in a community like this, hold on to them. Make the effort. Buy the ticket, drive the miles to see and spend time with them. They are the most important relationships in your life. Love them well because it brings you joy, and most of all, because it makes you complete.

The extraordinary peek-a-boo opponent.

Peek-a-boo is a pretty normal game to play with kids. It's a really easy way to keep a baby entertained. It can even been fun for the adult to play if the child is interactive and easily amused. We've all been there--made the faces and laughed with delight at the immediate, joyous reaction.

Have you ever played it ten times in a row? How about twenty? How about five times an hour every hour for a whole day? Times 180 days?

Erika Gascho has. And she is my hero. My extraordinary peek-a-boo opponent.



Twin day!

I had the privilege of getting to know Erika when I worked as an assistant in a multiple disabilities classroom this past year. She was the teacher of our students, and even more so, a teacher of me. We started the year with nine kids, and settled about half-way through with six. Trust me--in that classroom six was still an enormous number. Our beautiful, unique and particular children required everything from us. Emotionally, physically and socially they depended on our care to survive. There were good days, and there were bad days. All around, it was the hardest and most demanding job I have ever had.

Erika (though she would deny it) was truly a life changer in that classroom. She was so attentive to the needs of every child, and her endless energy and positive interactions were nothing short of inspiring. After just one week of working with her, she changed my entire perception of special needs students. That girl listened. She was able to hear and see and feel things that I was incapable of. She loved our kids with such a genuine and pure heart. She enjoyed them. You could see it on her face, in the way she taught and provided for them.

And I will be the first to tell you, that class was no walk in the park. We both struggled. There were times when we wanted to quit, where we felt hopeless, where we didn't know what else we could do. But if there is one thing that Erika taught me, it was that those kids were worth it. That they had personalities and lives to live that deserved to be shared with the world. And while we were definitely burnt out towards the end, there is no doubt in my mind that she loved those students with her whole heart. She carried their burdens, fought for them, and never stopped showing compassion.

Best of all, she knows how to laugh! We had so many funny moments with those kids, and there is no one else I would have rather shared them with. The amount of inside jokes we had was kind of sickening, and I'm sure annoying to anyone who hung out in our classroom for more than five minutes. Whenever I ever hear or see anyone playing peek-a-boo, I will forever think of her and the endless times she played that game with our students. And let me tell you, no adult could match her willingness to play it over and over again. No. One.



Erika and her husband, Andrew

Finally, (I could seriously write forever about her) she was my very best friend this year. As I have mentioned before, this season of life was incredibly hard for me--maybe the hardest. She walked through it with me boldly, with great patience, and with no hesitation. She made me feel heard and well loved. She gave advice when needed and never made me feel small. In short, she became my sister. As one of the teachers at Smithland said, we went through war together. I don't think anyone could ever replace her this year, and I am SO THANKFUL that she was a part of my life. God certainly knew what He was doing giving us each other.

So Erika--here's to you! Thank you for being my teacher, friend, sister, and ultimate peek-a-boo opponent. You are going to continue to change lives whether you like it or not...get ready world, you will never be the same!

The greatest sap I know.

I have decided to dedicate some of my posts to the great women in my life--a privilege and blessing to be able to write about those who have influenced and changed me with their love, passion, and character. I wrote about some of them generally a couple of posts ago, but I realized that they deserve their own sections and introductions to the blogging world.

So the first person I am writing about is my beautiful sap of a friend, Victoria Lama. Now, some people view the word "sap" in a negative light, but I assure you I only mean it in the most positive and affirming way. This girl loves everything even slightly romantic, artistically moving, or moderately inspiring. You know those girls who go to a wedding and complain about being single or make gagging noises at the gushy displays of love? This is not Victoria. She eats it up. She lives for it. Truly, her appreciation of the good things in life is so genuine that she can be nothing but endearing to those around her.                   

This is only part of the reason I love her. The second reason has to do with her incredibly insightful wisdom and deep understanding of emotions. I cannot even count the number of times I have gone to her with my issues--be it boyfriend troubles, stress at work, or just day to day emotional funks. She always knows exactly what to say. Better yet, I know that she emphasizes and does not judge me for what I am feeling. She is always honest and never complains about how much I talk. If anything, she encourages me to process more and makes me feel very validated in whatever it is I am rambling on about.

Victoria is also an adventurous cook. She loves looking up new recipes and isn't afraid to try less typical things. I often come home to find her baking or chopping or frying up food. And the best part is, she always shares with me!!! So not only does she inspire me in her culinary endeavors, but she also challenges me to be generous with my gifts--and one of her gifts is definitely cooking. She makes the best pumpkin cookies and is very invested in her burritos--two things that might possibly make her my favorite chef. She is proof that putting time and effort into food is a necessary part of healthy living that no one should be too busy to include.

Finally, I have to say that Victoria loves people well. She recognizes the good parts of everyone, and always tries to find a way to make those around her comfortable. She is content to enjoy a person as he or she is, and this makes her rare indeed. I have learned so much from her desire to include people, and I have been so blessed to be one of the people included in her life. I will miss her next year as I move to VA Beach, but I know she will continue to change lives as a teacher (just one more year of school)! Thanks for being a part of my year, Vicky!!

Friends are fun.

It's been about two weeks since school got out, and I have to say I was somewhat disappointed when my life didn't improve drastically the hour that blessed school bus rolled away. I have to admit that a huge part of me felt that this break would somehow solve all my problems--cure my heartache, heal my wounds, and miraculously present hope in a perfectly wrapped box. Mostly, I think I thought that time alone and journaling and praying would renew me instantaneously. Well, after a whole week and one half of talking to no one but myself and the Kardashians (yes, on television), I realized that I need to go. I didn't know where, I didn't know for what--I just knew that my mental and emotional health depended on it.

So I packed up my car and visited some friends. First it was Fredericksburg to see my small group/YL friends. These girls are my truth tellers. They are beautiful and unique and fierce, all in one. They know the Lord in a genuine way, and have a special gift in bringing out the best in people. Visiting them was like finding a part of myself again--a part of me that I had forgotten about and was unable to recall. They reminded me that I was beautiful and unique too. That I have things to offer that are special to who I am as a person, that God has a very specific purpose for my life that cannot be carried out by anyone else. I am so thankful for time with them and for the blessing that their lives are to me. There is no other group of women that I admire more, and I am continuously humbled by their love.

Next, I went to see my dear friend Christin, who is getting ready to be a missionary abroad. Another beautiful heart selflessly going into the world to serve others. I had the honor of attending her goodbye party, and it was so fun to see how many lives have been loved by her. She is so steady in her acceptance of all people, and I know that as she moves into a new culture, she is bound to profoundly impact people by her presence. Few people are as peaceful as her, and the gentle spirit she embodies is sure to heal hearts. She has taught me that love is found in graceful approach of the human-ness in all of us.

Finally, I traveled up to Nova to spend some time with my dodgeball team. Love. Them. Made up of my old SoupBowl housemates and our fun guy friends, any amount of time with them lately has been filled with laughter and tears. Tears usually because I am laughing so hard I am crying. They are the purest hearts and the biggest jokesters. I have been so well loved by them in the past five years, and they have been with me through everything. I don't know anyone else that would have stuck with me through thick and thin, and who so easily accept the things about me that are hard to live with. I often look back at our time together and feel unworthy of their grace--but so thankful for their persistence. If love is an action they embody it, and the community they have built up around me is one that has slowly taught me to trust in family again.

So, as you can see, I am finding more healing in community than I thought was possible, and my goal is to keep moving toward it even when it becomes financially difficult to do so. I am convinced that we need other people to be whole, and especially at this time in my life, I need people to remind me who I am again. To remind me that crying from laughter is possible and relationships that aren't broken are just a phone call again. To find out that I am--that life is--totally worth it. That there really is hope for community and hope for me. I'm going to live for these moments this summer, being thankful for the ways that God has brought me himself through my closest friends.

The unfortunate life of a lemon.

Resignation.

In my life definition, to resign is to give up--to sit back and silently take what life has thrown at you. I mentioned in my last post that 'hopelessness' has also been a big word for me this year. Well, if there is an action to accompany the word hopeless, for me it is resignation.

Reflecting on this season, I came to the grim realization that there are no guarantees in life. I once thought that love and happiness, children and marriage, job security and life insurance--that all these things were life's natural gifts to me. I knew there would be hard times. Seasons of dryness and mountains that seemed less than worth the climb. I also knew that I didn't have to fear what most of the world does--famine, war, perpetual death. I knew I was blessed to be born where I was, when I was.These things were indeed offerings that I did not and do not deserve.

And while I can wish and hope whole heartedly that the blessings continue, I know that there is a very likely possibility that they will not. I have already seen some of those unfortunate dreams die this year, and have failed to understand the whys and hows of their disappearances. For awhile, I sat in these disappointments. I grumbled and complained. I became angry. I became, I am not proud to say, very bitter and selfish.

I thought alot during this time. As I went into work every day and observed the lives of my students, I wondered at the state of their existences. They could do little on their own--everything was dependent on the decisions of their caregiver. Many could not eat on their own, and their personal space was constantly invaded by strangers they had no option but to trust. And this will not change for them. They will spend their days this way. This is not fair. Why them and not me? What did they do? What do their families think and feel? How do they cope? Life has certainly not been kind to them. Life is very hard. Day to day is hard.

So, what do we do when life gives us very real lemons? Do we give up? Roll over? I very much want to most of the time. I don't want to face these uncomfortable realities. I want to believe that life, by its own righ,t is good and faithful. But if it hasn't been, and will not be, where do we go from here?

I want to fight. No, that's not quite right. I need to fight. It is imperative that I start making lemonade, right now, today. Mostly, because I can. I have a working body. A (fairly) sound mind. An ability to start over, dream big, and beat the hell out of those lemons. And while I will always be reminded of the tartness of those struggles which threatened to bring me down, they willnot, I repeat, will NOT replace the sastisfying sweetness of the lemondade. Of the victory.
So I will fight. I will squeeze. For me, for my students. For life.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick.

This sometimes feels like it has been a year of hopelessness. I have had hard times before. Times when things didn't go exactly the way I wanted or times when I questioned the involvement of God in my life for good. But this year has felt exceptionally difficult. There were so many times where I thought to myself, "really? REALLY? this has to be happening right now?" I'm sure you can relate.

And I know that my problems, for starters, don't even compare to some of the big questions that go on outside my life. And I felt hopelessness in them to. Working in an MD classroom isn't the ideal picture of hope. I often looked at my kids and their pain and suffering and countless doctor's visits and asked the same question of God that I asked for myself--why? Is God here? Is he even listening? I know enough to understand that God doesn't promise our happiness or endless blessings in our personal lives. He doesn't even promise the day to day. And if I can't trust Him in those things, then where do I place my trust? I want so badly to believe and to feel in my heart that my God loves me. But sometimes the evidence is so completely overwhelming for the opposite argument.

I desperately hope that God will show up and heal this heart of bitterness and a year or more worth of hope deferred. I want to know that this God, the one that sent His son to die, deeply cares for what is going on in this very real earth. I want to know what He is present--fighting my battles and the battles of those around me until life is restored. I want to believe in hope again.

Life's only true opponent.

“I must say a word about fear. It is life's only true opponent. Only fear can defeat life. It is a clever, treacherous adversary, how well I know. It has no decency, respects no law or convention, shows no mercy. It goes for your weakest spot, which it finds with unnerving ease. It begins in your mind, always ... so you must fight hard to express it. You must fight hard to shine the light of words upon it. Because if you don't, if your fear becomes a wordless darkness that you avoid, perhaps even manage to forget, you open yourself to further attacks of fear because you never truly fought the opponent who defeated you.”
--Life of Pi, Yann Martel

I have been faced with a great deal of fear this year--sometimes so much so that it was laughable. The mind is most certainly a battlefield, and for someone such as myself who thinks enough for two people, it can be a particularly dangerous place. Oftentimes, my fears were not rational. Some of them were borderline ludacris. Last summer, I remember crouching on the floor of the Hobby House (where I taught arts and crafts) and going into a state of pure panic over the quality of my camp crafts. Yes--I was having anxiety over crafts. My thinking went somehow like this:
"If my crafts suck, then I suck. If I suck, this means I don't love the campers. If I don't love the campers, this means I'm an awful person. If I'm an awful person, then there really isn't much point in living. If I can't single handedly change my campers' lives with my crafts, then THERE IS NO POINT IN LIVING."

Scary. One--that I was that narcissistic. Two--that my fears had entered a whole new level of unrealistic pandemonium. Unfortunately, this trend continued on for the better half of the year, leaving my nerves completely shot and my brain on overdrive. I would wake up every morning before work and obsessively run a list of possible failures for the day through my ever running mind. These fears mostly addressed my own emotional state. My biggest worry was that my anxiety or depression would affect the people around me in a big way--not only upsetting their lives but my own.

It is an exhausting thing to live in fear. Especially when, in my particular life, there was much peace to be thankful for. There were no ongoing wars around me. I was not starving. I was not in massive amounts of debt. My fear linked directly to the state of my soul--which, in some cases is scarier than the tangible things we try to control.
Here's what I discovered and what I'm still trying to believe: IT'S not worth it. If fear has a name, it is the all encompassing IT. There are many things that may cause us to feel fear, different for every person and experienced in many ways. But, as stated by Martel above, whatever IT addresses, the core of the obstacle is always our own fear. If we can learn to overcome this, to discover a new way of thinking, to persevere even when our heart and brain are struggling to run as far away as possible, we can do anything.

All I know is that I don't want to wake up one day safe but dead inside. So here's to taking chances, to change the way I perceive myself and to give grace in the times that I falter. Here's to believing that all things really are possible, and that fear is merely an emotion waiting to be defeated. In the end, I'd rather find out that I failed than be left wondering what would have happened if I tried at all.