notice: this blog entry has been stolen.

if you recognize that it was stolen from you, please do not contact your lawyer, call the police or take offense. it is only stolen and posted here because, quite frankly, it needs to be read by people. over and over again. and while it certainly applies to my current adventure, i imagine with all that this life brings, it may have some relevancy and bring some hopefulness for each of us as we stumble thru things.

I do not ask to see the way
My feet will have to tread;
But only that my soul may feed
Upon the living Bread.

’Tis better far that I should walk
By faith close to His side;
I may not know the way I go,
But oh, I know my Guide.

And if my feet would go astray,
They cannot, for I know
That Jesus guides my falt’ring steps,
As joyfully I go.

And tho’ I may not see His face,
My faith is strong and clear,
That in each hour of sore distress
My Savior will be near.

I will not fear, tho’ darkness come
Abroad o’er all the land,
If I may only feel the touch
Of His own loving hand.

And tho’ I tremble when I think
How weak I am, and frail,
My soul is satisfied to know
His love can never fail.

not-so-subliminal message:

hide-and-go-seek in denver

i wrote this in an email to a friend recently. felt it best described my feelings over the last week or two so i wanted to share with the rest of you.

this transition has been . . . well . . . strange.

i suppose any transition is, but this one has topped all the others.

the only word i seem to be able to find to describe my current feeling is - lost. now, it's not like i don't know where i am; it's more like i feel like everyone else doesn't know where i am. like when you are playing hide-and-go-seek and you are the one hiding. that kind of lost.

but then it's also that strange knowledge that i am in this huge city and no one even knows who i am or that i'm here. and it's not actually a game of hide-and-go-seek. so in essence, no one even knows they should be looking for me.

and i guess that's where being the new person is tough. you have to find your own way out of lostness sometimes. you have to put yourself out there, speak up in conversations, initiate coffee dates with people; otherwise you just keep on not being known.

i think once i get into a routine with work, get moved into this new place, find a church, much of that will start to dissipate. but for now, that's where i am. and that's ok. comes with the territory.

looking back

mom was showing my some of the scrapbooking she's been doing tonight. much of it was of her younger years - her baby book and into elementary school. a couple of things struck me as incredibly funny. i share them here with you:

this

was an excuse note that mom wrote to her teacher to try and get out of p.e. class one day. she said she distinctly remembers her friends saying, 'oh pam, that looks just like a grown-up wrote it. miss kates will definitely think it's from your mom!' funny thing is, the teacher let her out of class that day - not because she believed the note, but just because she thought it was funny. then she told my mom to take the note home to her mom - and she did!!! my mom's 'bicycle license.' you say: 'sarah, i didn't even know they made such a thing.' well, apparently back in 1962 they did.

lastly (and this is my favorite). my mom grew up in a very small town in texas. so small, in fact, that when you had a birthday party, it got written up in the paper! my favorite line: 'the small, long table was covered with a circus-patterned tablecloth and centered with balloons covered with stars.' they bring you all the details in andrews, tx. you'd think they'd been covering the world's best party ever. but no, just your standard 3-yr-old birthday party. wow.

even funnier, my mom has a newspaper clipping that reports that her cousins came to town to visit. that's all. just that they came to visit.

i promise. i'm not making it up. i guess in a small town you'll take whatever news you can get.