New York, New York! Part I: You Just Don't Want to Know

So when I said "regular programming," I, naturally, meant "begin to ease into the good habit of posting once a week, which shall, in a few weeks time, possibly return to a consistent posting on Mondays." You all know how to read between the lines, right?

Good. Now that I have that off my chest...

Spring break (alluded to in aforementioned previous post) was begun with an adventure, the telling of which you shall all hereby be subjected to, complete with pictures. Friday morning, early (and I mean early early. As in, we didn't really go to bed, just took a quick 2-hour nap sometime in the predawn hours) my friend Kate and I collected a few random belongings and hopped on a plane bound for unknown lands.

Sleep deprivation had surprisingly no affect on us, and we remained calm and sane for our entire sunrise flight.

However, all semblance of cool collected-ness vanished like chocolate chip cookies when, after landing, making it to our room, and hastily changing, we found ourselves sitting in the way-back seats of a theater, preparing to take in the delights of Broadway's (as in the Broadway. On Broadway. The real Broadway. The street. In New York City) - as I was saying, Broadway's Cinderella. Sure, we looked like drowned rats because it had suddenly started pouring when we left our room and I had forgotten to grab my umbrella from our stash of random items. Sure, we were shivering with cold because someone kept opening a door to the fire escape (oh the adventures of economical ticket purchasing!). Sure, we were starving from not having eaten for the past 8 of our travelling hours - but none of that mattered. We had finally arrived at the place of our dreams: New York City!!

 

Our first view of Broadway at night!

wet & happy

                                                                      Our view from the way-back was still great!

As the curtains opened, Kate and I felt our excitement bubbling over. Let the adventures begin! Two magical hours later, as the final strains of music faded from the dazzling performance, our shivering, growling stomachs demanded attention before returning 'home,' and thus we found ourselves crowding into a tiny, delicious little shop called "Pie Face" for some piping hot supper!

I had mini 'Thai Chicken' & 'Bacon and Egg' pies!

A dash through the rain, a couple stops on the subway, and we emerged from the deep underground desirous of two things: hot showers and bed. It was 11:30 when we dashed up the stairs to our room. Somehow, though, it was 12:30 when we finally entered our room. You see, we had this wee problem with the door...

But you don't want to hear about our trials, right? About knocking, and ringing, and calling our host on her cell phone (she was unavailable), and (trying) calling our parents back at home, and the discussion of whether we should call a cab to take us to a hotel or sleep in the stairwell, and the tears of frustration that are inevitable when one is exhausted and cold and wet and locked out of the only place resembling home...or about when we finally discovered the lock just worked a little differently and we'd been raising a ruckus on the stairs for absolutely no reason at all. You just don't even want to know, right? Didn't think so.

There were two very tired, slightly subdued, reluctantly apprehensive girls sleeping in NYC that night. However, as the sun rises, so does hope, and when the light of day and gleam of blue sky blazed through our window the following morning, we found ourselves ready for whatever this city could throw at us!



We planned our route, guzzled our breakfast (that is to say, we bought juice and drank it) and were on our way to visit another part of Broadway (read: shopping)! Somehow, it took nearly an hour longer than we intended. You see, we had this wee problem with the subway...

But you don't want to hear about our separation, right? About my failure to realize until (apparently) the last minute that we were at our stop, and hopping up saying "this is us," only to hear a tragic "SARAH!!" and turn to see the door closing between my friend and I, as her frantic, grinning face slid away into the darkness. About me, doubled over, absolutely convulsing with silent laughter on a lonely subway stop, straining every nerve to not break into out-loud, maniacal peals, thinking, "I've done it, now. I've lost Kate in New York City," and seeing over and over again in my mind's eye her expression as she and the subway deserted me. About the well-known fact that cell phones don't work below ground, and all I could do was pray she would get off and wait for me at the next stop (since I was route planner, she had no idea where we were going, and no map with which to try and figure it out). You just don't even want to know, right? Didn't think so.

Thus it came about that our shopping time on Broadway totaled about 20 minutes, during which time we snagged a hugely over-rated hot dog from a stand (talk about puny) and enjoyed some fab people-watching. After confirming our route with a subway-office-worker-person, we hopped on a train bound for Battery Park for our 2pm Statue-of-Liberty departure! Somehow, we didn't make it on time. You see, we had this wee problem with weekend train schedules...

But you don't want to hear about our spontaneous visit to Staten Island, do you? About that moment when the next station was announced as "DeKalb" and everyone else suddenly bolted off the subway, leaving us to blink at the map (trying to find this fabled "DeKalb") and chant, "that lady said this was the right train." You don't want to hear about our arrival - which we discovered to be quite a bit out of our way - at 1:45 on Staten Island, only to learn from a helpful local that "the trains run different routes from the map on weekends," or about our indecision on how to get where we wanted to go if we couldn't trust posted train routes, about the kind older gentleman who took us under his wing until we arrived - 30 minutes late - at our destination. As a whole, you just don't even want to know, right? Didn't think so.

Thus flew the first 20 hours of our time in the Big Apple. Tune in next week for Part II: Statues, Sunburns, and Central Park. (Tell me that doesn't sound enthralling.)

One Day More

One day more, and I'll be waking up with a mile-long list of all the last-minute items I need to remember. One day more, and I'll be loading my backpacker's backpack into the car, swinging my other pack over my shoulder. One day more, and I'll be hugging & kissing my family goodbye for the next 7 weeks. One day more, and I'll be going to the airport to meet up with Kaytra and Charae. One day more, and all that I've been planning for the last seven months will begin.

Yes, it is here. One more door. One more day. One. Day. More

Empyrean Bestowal, Part II: Hope Revealed

A Visit from Red
To read Part I, click here!

Photo Credit

Within six feet, my foot slipped, and I hit the pebbly ground, slicing my hands, face, arms, and legs. I closed my eyes as I began to feel the familiar pain of sliding down a rocky slope. But wait, I wasn't sliding. I jerked my head up to see the Stranger holding on to one of my bloody, numbed hands. He pulled me up; I don't know how He did it. Somehow, He did not fall. Sooner than I expected, I stood before Him, though it was I who was panting, and not He.

 

He put His hand on my shoulder, and explained. "You can't do it yourself. Let Me lead, and you follow."

 

The road...it did not become easy of a sudden. The first ditches we mounted were ones I thought I knew to be insurmountable. He went before me, and somehow always gained the upper edge of the trench. Then, He would reach down for me. He'd pull me out the hole, and I know not how He managed to always do so, for the ditches were great.

I recognized many of these pitfalls. Most of them, on my downward, backsliding way, I had willingly slid into, thankful for a brief respite. Some, I know, were caused by my sliding. But one and all, both the ditches I had made and those I had fallen into, He pulled me out of. After every ditch and bramble, I found it easier to trust Him, grasping His hand with mine as He lifted me out from the depths. At first, I tried to hurry the process of getting up. Running, climbing or scurrying, up the ditches' side, I would inevitably fail. It was only when He was there to help me, and I let Him work with me, that I was able to mount those looming barriers. 

 

Photo Credit

At last, we reached a part in the road that slowly leveled out. Looking ahead, I saw before me a city of wondrous size resting upon the summit. Even from the distance yet before us, it shone like a lamp on a stand. As we journeyed nearer, time seemed to slow, so anxious was I to reach the Shining End. However, this last leg did not take long; although time seemed to last forever, only moments had passed before we stood beneath the jasper wall, in front of a gate fashioned of pearls. (There were three like it, and we entered by the middle). I was brought through it to the Palace of the King, along streets of gold. It is indescribable - the awesomeness of the city and the Palace within. But all grew dim - the gold, the sapphires, the emeralds, the countless other jewels and gems, the multitude of palace servants honoring the King - when I saw Him - the King of kings, the Lord of Lords, the Alpha and Omega - and the Lamb, seated at the right hand of God, Who left His throne above and gave His all for me.

 

I fell to my knees. What a Blessing I had received, without it belonging to me at all: that the King of the universe, the Creator of all, God Himself, came to me, that I might live with Him. He sent His Son down the path of life, to save me from my own destructive ways. "...Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost." (I Timothy 1:15b). May I never forget this ultimate blessing, the Greatest of Ethereal Treasures!

Empyrean Bestowal, Part I: The Final Hope of Mundi Cursum

A Visit from Red

Ahhh, friends, what can I say to you about Josh, or "Red" as he is called in the blogging world? He's my friend and partner in crime adventure. He has impeccable taste in books and amazing potential with the violin. He's learning the bagpipes. He's attentive and generous. He's the guy who seats me at dinner each night, who will be in stitches with me over something nobody else in the room finds funny (their loss), who's game for just about anything, but who maintains a balance of common sense that some of us...require. What better way to wrap up this party than with a fabulous allegory he wrote? Be patient...Part II will appear on Monday. :)

Allow me the pleasure of introducing my 15-year-old brother, Red.

Photo Credit

I was on Mundi Cursum, travelling like the rest. The downward slope was not too great, but at times I would find myself losing my foot hold. At other times, I would collapse into one of the deep ditches, scattered on the road at frequent intervals. This was not as bad as it may seem at first; for, while the ditch's top would be parallel to the road, the road's great slant allowed a certain ease in exiting these ditches. Naturally, one climbed out on the side that led to the down-going road, for it was impossible to climb up the slope. I had seen some try, and even tried myself; but climbing only threw the person further down the path, with a cascade of dirt and rocks following him. All who tried never, ever succeeded...at least, any of the individuals I'd seen.

 

There were many beliefs about where the road led. Some asserted that it led to a luscious plain, just beyond the thick fog (the fog - such a strange aroma it held...). Others thought that at the bottom of this hill was another hill, and another, and another, until one could find a way to extricate himself from this endless journey. Still others believed that we would die on the trail, and that would be it. These - mostly hopeless - beliefs drove many to attempt the climb upward, but after the inevitable failure, the upward trek seemed evermore unfeasible.

 

We could not exit the path off to the side, for a wide, deep ditch filled with bramble as long as a man flanked the path. More than likely, some had ventured to cross the ditch, but I did not know any who were so foolish. Death certainly met those who tried. The situation was fatally grim. Some, in desperation, threw themselves forward, hoping to reach the end before they died. Their cries were the last we heard of them. I just wanted to get somewhere, and in my youth firmly believed in a "better place;" but years of aimless, tiresome, and endless travelling changed that; I, too, no longer contested, but confirmed, the assertion that the path was meaningless.

 

That's when I met Him.

 

Photo Credit

He looked like the rest. Apparently, He wasn't an able climber...that's what I first thought. Cuts, bruises, and multiple wounds adorned Him. I had seen Him for some time, for instead of stumbling down the path with all, He was struggling upward. He paused at every person; His words were spoken earnestly, though gently, and never hurried. I saw those with whom He spoke look upward, back at Him, and then shake their heads, continuing their descent. Finally, I reached Him (or, He reached me...which is, I believe, the more proper verbiage).

 

"My son, do you care to travel upward?" He asked. I, like the others, turned my gaze to the path behind me.

 

"Why, Sir?"

 

His steadfast gaze held mine as He answered. "Because this road leads to death. Upward leads to life." Again, I glanced to the towering slope, which appeared to have a sharper incline, more pits, and greater brambles. Many of the ditches spanned the whole road. They would be impossible to climb out of, if one attempted the feat.

 

"Can You...how will You bring me up?" I had seen some try. All had failed. For an answer, His steady, kind eyes held mine. With that, I did not need any other answer: I knew that this Man had the ability to make it to the top. I, exhausted of this road, the falling, the cuts, summoned the resolve to grasp this final straw of hope. My head sank in acknowledgement, and I turned my back on the Cursum's plummet.



He Said Yes: Part II

To read Part I, click here.

photo credit

Away whirled November and December, gone, it seemed, before they had come. Somehow, in those months of not thinking about the trip (so we could focus on family, holidays, and friends), our time in Europe added sunrises. The itinerary now consisted of not only the tour, but additional time in France, Germany, Scotland, and possibly England.

Every. Single. Step. of this planning was marked with leading and blessing from the LORD. Each time I stumbled upon an obstacle, or stared over a hurdle, He would effectively clear it away and give an additional blessing! Through opportunities and finances, He directed where we were to go (which is pure excitement to re-live and realize!), and He has been faithful to provide for every detail.

The greatest evidence that I have yet seen of this loving provision came two weeks ago. I had just sent off the final check in payment for the tour, and was consequently feeling a little lean in the bank account, when we (the tour group) received the first official email from Mr. Bond:

"118 days before we meet in Paris!"

Excitement and anxiety immediately picked up a game of tag on the field of my emotions. Mr. Bond had advised waiting until March or April to buy plane tickets, but how low would prices actually go? As things were, the tickets hovered well out of budget. An uncomfortable wad of worry began to grow in my stomach ~ had I misjudged my expenses?

Finally, in desperation, knowing there was nothing I could do, I snapped shut my laptop and went upstairs to do what the LORD has been urging me to do in all situations: pray. (In fact, I begin to wonder if prayer is the number one lesson on God's "teach Sarah" list right now.) Asking for peace, for faith, for contentment, and lowering prices on airfare, the Holy Spirit began to soothe me. Praying for our tour group, for the people we will meet while in Europe, for the opportunity to boldly proclaim Christ, I was wrapped up in a peace straight from heaven. God is in control.

Settling down to my Scripture reading a little while later, I found myself totally refreshed and amazed by the beauty of the character of the LORD as revealed in Deuteronomy. (I can't believe I used to think Deuteronomy a "boring OT book" - it is now one of my absolute favorites...if not "the" favorite.) Over and over again, God asserts and reveals His intense love for Israel, which in and of itself is the ultimate humility. Immersed in the story of His people, I was struck by chapter 5 verse 29:

"Oh, that they had such a heart in them that they would fear Me and always keep all My commandments, that it might be well with them and with their children forever!"

This is our God, Who yearns for the times when we will turn our eyes on Him and give Him glory, so that He may shower blessings on us and cause all to "be well." Underlining the verse, I wrote in the margins, "the great mercy of the LORD, that He longs always to bless us!" Mercy. Love. Selflessness. This is our God.

Before supper that evening, mama and daddy had some errands to run, and while they were out I retrieved my "Europe 2013" notebook and settled to down to find which airlines/travel agencies had the best prices at the moment.

 

I looked.

And looked.

And looked.

 

It was to no avail - I could find no better prices, but I knew Who was in control. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, there was a Portland-to-Paris ticket price, staring back at me from my screen, for a full $200 less than anywhere else.

 

We're talking under $500 here, people.

photo credit

 

There are days when you can't even get across the country for the price at which I could fly to Paris.

 

Another hour, another couple giddy phone calls, and we three little travellers where most certainly going to Europe! (coming home is still TBD)

 

Another prayer. Another gift. Another evidence of Love.

 

Another assurance that He will provide.

 

Another reminder of Who is in control.

 

Another praise. Another opportunity. Another plea.

 

LORD, keep my eyes open always to be blessed by Your work and watchful of Your purpose.

He Said Yes: Part I

Photo Credit

For months now, I have thought about this post. Planned for it. Wished I could write it. Anticipated what I would say.

Now, this week, when the time has finally come, I find words to be inadequate.

Incapable.

Insufficient.

Incompetent.

Perhaps, as Mr. Knightly says in the new "Emma" movie, "if I felt less I may be able to talk about it more." My feelings are not the love of which Mr. Knightly spoke, but those of awe, amazement, excitement, praise, and love for my heavenly Father which are the natural, insuppressible feelings when one sees His work. But still, I do not know how to start. Dear Readers, will you listen to a story?

A year ago, in my ramblings through various internet haunts, I stumbled upon Douglas Bond's Website (he writes some fantastic books, ya'll - if you haven't read them, do!), and saw, to my delight, that he was planning to lead a Reformation Tour in Europe, June 2013. Ecstatic, I raved casually mentioned the tour to mom and dad, only to be told that, based on where I was at the time, they advised against my going. For the months following, I continued to mention the tour to my parents, talk about the sights with Kaytra, and dream about the travelling on my own ~ but nothing changed. Like the Beast's falling rose petals, brightly-colored leaves ticked away my time, urging me on to a decision, but daddy was still not certain I should go; I began to pray earnestly for God's leading. A half-ashamed, selfish prayer, I brought my desire to God and begged Him to make me joyful and content in whichever answer He gave.

September passed. And October. And still, daddy was not ready to say that I should go. Kaytra and I were slowly going crazy with the dream; the travel bug had bitten, but what could we do? We continued to pray, asking that the door would remain shut if this trip would be exclusively for pleasure, knowing enjoyment is not a worthy end. Despite the excitement that traversing the world offered, God's plan and work was - is - dearer, even if the answer was 'no.' We wanted our hearts in the right place.

November came, and was slipping by, when I received an unexpected phone call. My friend Charae, who I had no idea even knew about the tour, was being encouraged by her father to go ~ would I go with her? Of course! I would love to! I had before me only one problem: Daddy was still unconvinced (I had spoken to him again just a few days before), but I would ask again! Charae informed me that she had just hung up with Mr. Bond, and registration would be closing in two weeks. The minute I heard this, my heart skipped a beat and it got hard to breathe. This was it, then; the moment of truth. Was it the LORD's will for me to go on the tour or not? I was insanely excited and tremblingly trepidatious at the same time. Promising to call Charae as soon as I had talked to daddy, I immediately began to send an onslaught of texts that would have put the fastest-texting teen in the world to shame.

My answer? Silence.

I remember nothing of that afternoon. I know I had lessons to teach, dinner to make, and emails to send, but my mind was suddenly as flighty as a hummingbird, darting hither and yon. I prayed all through the afternoon, "LORD, give me joy in whichever answer you send. Let me be content. But please, LORD, I would so love to go."

Daddy came home, but I had to wait. It seemed an eternity before we could talk (although I'm sure he and mama could correct me in saying it was only a few minutes), as he played a game with the twins and I "worked" in the kitchen. Finally, mama, daddy, and I sat down and discussed details, circumstances, and conditions.

That evening, I called Kaytra, absolutely giddy, to tell her Charae and I were going ~ was she able to come too? It took a couple days, but soon it was settled: the three of us were Europe-bound.

 I was floored, speechless, amazed - to have gone from "no" to "yes" in an afternoon was incredible, and a complete turn-around such that only my Father could have made. He had said 'yes.' The anticipation and excitement of all we will see and do is trumped only by the unknown: What does Christ have for us to do on this trip?

Will you pray that we will see and do it?


To read Part II, click here