WTLIBG #3

11.  Vote. For something other than yourself.

I guess it doesn’t count that I voted that I’d rather play Heads-up-7up over 4 corners several times in elementary school.  And it probably doesn’t count that I voted for myself for homecoming court (I lost with a total of 1 vote), or that I voted for myself to be “Most likely to make you laugh” for senior superlatives (again, I lost with a total vote of 1…I see a pattern here).

So the presidential elections were the November after I turned 18.  I was a wide eyed student of a Southern Baptist College where most people are involved politically.  With parents who encouraged me, I registered to vote.

I got my card in the mail, and Amanda and I drove down to the Swim Center on Hwy 81 where we stood in line for approximately 10 minutes waiting for our turn to determine the outcome of the world.

I guess for whatever reason, I thought that the ballot would have names with little squares that you could check to seal your vote in ink, but when I approached my stall, there was a computer.  WHAT IN THE WORLD?! A computer!? So this pen isn’t necessary is it?  Man.  And I brought my purple sparkly one, just in case it would get my vote some extra weight.

I then clicked whatever it is you are supposed to click to let the computer know that you are there and eager to give your opinion on how the country should be run.

Options.

There were so many options.  I came with a purple sparkly pen expecting to make one mark next to the name of the future president of the United States, and I’m being faced with choices like Water Commissioner.  A judge for the Supreme Court.  Sheriff?  I thought the sheriff was just a really good police officer…like the boss?  like Andy.  Whatever.  I voted a straight ballot because to be honest, I had no idea that I’d have so many decisions to make.

I left feeling accomplished in a small way.  I knew that my vote probably wouldn’t matter.  We live in SC.  One extra republican vote wasn’t going to seal the election…UNTIL…there were so many complications and recounts in Florida.  I must have done a good job of punching my brads or whatever, because SC didn’t have a recount.  At that moment, at that realization, I think I gave everyone (meaning myself) a high five.

I voted.

I punched brad right where it hurt.

I made a decision for America.

I won!!!!

WTLIBG Pt. 2

Man, the votes are pouring in…I can’t stop counting to think. Oh wait…with a whopping 4 votes (5 if you count the one from Justin Hunt that doesn’t count because he’s an idiot), and a total of 2 votes that are the same, we have a winner.

23.  Ride in an airplane.

I’m personally excited to tell you about my  high flying adventures.  They are what cause me the most nightmares and the most laughs.

Experience 1:

In July of 2002, the summer after 9/11, the media/government/some random homeless guy/i have no idea predicted that the next target for Al Qaeda would be the Golden Gate bridge.

In July of 2002, the summer after 9/11, the same summer of the aforementioned  prediction, I got on a plane with about 30 other people from the youth at Monaghan to fly to the city of San Francisco.

It was my first flight and I was pretty calm.  I had my coloring books, crayons, and M&Ms packed- what more could I need?

After the layover in ATL, we had a 5 hour flight to San Fran.  About an hour outside of the city, I look up to see a man in a turban talking with a very nervous looking flight attendant.  Upon further investigation I see a lot of firm hand motions and shaking heads and notice a little bit of urgency in the body language of both parties involved in what I’m sure was a causal discussion about the turban-wearing passenger’s preference of cashews over peanuts.  Needless to say I FREAKED OUT. Casually.  I think I produced more sweat in the last hour of the plane ride than in my entire life combined up to that point.  I may or may not have prayed the sinners prayer about 300 times, only to realize that it wasn’t working because I was already a believer, and I don’t know if that actually works if you aren’t repeating it after a Southern Baptist preacher?  I also probably cried.  I don’t remember crying, but I hate sweating, and I didn’t want to die over the Great Plains, so we’ll go with saying that I cried.

The end:  we made it out alive. He really did want cashews, probably.  Surprise.

Experience 2:

Flight from ATL to Salt Lake City and from SLC to Billings, Montana.  The first half was uneventful.  The second half was much more exciting.

We board a 30 passenger plane.  At least 2 of the 15 passengers (because, seriously, who the heck wants to got o Billings, Montana, and who wants to ride a 30 passenger plane there?) are affected by motion sickness and should have taken Dramamine before boarding (those two names are being kept top secret).  First, our flight was delayed after we boarded due to unexpected repairs that needed to be made to the air craft.  SERIOUSLY PEOPLE!? Find me another plane!! They finally have it repaired with what I know for a fact (due to my uncanny ability to identify shiny silver things) that the wing of the plane was being held together with none other than duct tape.  Oh. My. Word.

So not only was I on edge because my life was in the hands of something that I can rip apart without really trying, we faced the most unrelenting turbulence the world has ever known.  We’d spend 10 minutes climbing a million feet, and then drop the entire 1 million feet in less than 3 seconds.  80 minutes straight.  I almost wished I’d died over the Great Plains.  At least that’s cooler to say you died in a plane over the Plains than to say you died because turbulence jerked you out of your seat and threw you out the emergency exit over Old Faithful.

The point is, one of my family members (again, this is top secret information) couldn’t get to their little baggie in time.  Seriously- best day ever.  Yellowstone wasn’t nearly as exciting as the many near death experiences I’d had on my way.

WTLIBG

I taught him how to do the robot. Don't let him fool you with his "you're an idiot, Sarah" act that he likes to play when I do this dance in public. He likes it. I know he does.

By popular demand with a grand total of 1 vote (thanks, Jamal) to date via my high-tech facebook poll, number 14 has been chosen as the first post in my new series:  With the life I’ve been given… (WTLIBG, in case you don’t know how to make acronyms)  A series about things on my list that have been accomplished and the stories that go with those accomplishments.

14.  Fall in love.

I’m going to be completely honest and say that I have no idea the exact moment in time that I fell in love with Jamal.  I have about a thousand memories in my head that are begging for my vote, and 3 or 4 that are really in the runnings for first place.

I know that the first weekend that we hosted together we realized that we thought the same things and we said the same things and we liked the same things.

I know that he came to a youth lock-in right after we became semi-friends and my pulse was racing and I was sweating profusely and I was so nervous that people would notice I had a crush on him.

I know that he sang Came to My Rescue while practicing for a worship night with Jon Hannon and the second he made eye contact with me in the middle of that song after a weird note, I couldn’t deny any longer that my life wouldn’t be quite as awesome without him in it…preferably as my boyfriend.

And I know that the night that he called at the end of the summer and told me he wasn’t sure what he was going to do about our relationship in response to some pretty crappy situations, I found the most profound sadness just resting in my thoughts, and I’d been left alone to deal with it by myself.  Maybe that’s the time when I noticed that I love his support.  That I love his humor and his encouraging words.  Maybe that’s when I became so acutely aware that I love him.

I have no idea, but I’m not 100% sure that I think it even matters.

I think I love this story so much because:

1.  I didn’t think it would ever happen.

2.  It’s such a fun story of how God makes the impossible possible all for His glory.

3.  Well, because it happened to me.

4. Jamal is the other half of the story.

I love that we win every game we play together (as in anytime we are on the same team, we win)

I love that he is wise and funny and godly and loud and goofy and can sing and PRAY (oh, can he pray).

I love that we can talk for days about the eastside and westside of Heaven together and be in our own little world and forget that we don’t make sense to anyone else.

I love that I’m not the only one making up interpretive movements in the car when awesome (uuh, mediocre) songs like Days of Elijah come on the radio.

I love that this kid is willing to say things that I was told boys never said because they were too tough or something boyish like that.

I love that I don’t have to tell him what I want.  He might be a few days behind my schedule, but somehow he always does exactly what I wanted him to do and always just in the nic of time.

I think my favorite part of all, though, is this:  that no matter how cheesy this may sound, I know that I’ll look back see that this love today does not compare to the love I’ll have in 20 or 30 or 40 years (assuming we are still together).

 

If I could PostSecret

I’d tell you that I’m so so so glad I said “no”.  That one no means a million yesses now.

Jesus Has Overcome.

Today was an ugly, sad, frustrating, discouraging day.

It started out beautifully, but turned awry very quickly at dinner.  And from awry, quite discouraging.

Hard conversations that can’t be won and can’t be avoided attacked me at dinner.  I left feeling like I had let a world of people down for something I couldn’t and can’t control.  I left feeling like no way was a winning way and no way was the right way.  I left with a broken heart.

Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all.  Psalm 34:19

Being in the will of God has brought on some pretty harsh situations.  Fellow believers can’t understand why God would have me in situations that ruffle feathers, and I can’t understand how they think He wouldn’t.  How else is my faith in Him as savior and (specifically in this situation) my faith in His perfect will to be tested?

So bring on the hard questions.  I’ll answer them with confidence.

I expect trials to come my way.

I’m ok with that

Because I can praise Him in the beautiful and in the ugly.

In the comfortable and in the scary.

In the heavy and in the light.

In the good and in the bad.

In Him my yoke is easy and burden light because He carries me.

He has overcome the world.  He can overcome my crap.