This is a lame blog

In short: we know more than our predecessors because we know our predecessors.

We are nothing without our own history.

Our history is Christs death.

An Age-Old Struggle

Typically, when I start to write, I have no idea what I want to say. Often I begin writing only because I have nothing better to do. For instance, the internet will not load for me this morning. What else should I do with my hour before classes? I already cleaned up the pile of clothes at the foot of my bed. I’ve gotten dressed, brushed my teeth. I’ve neglected to fix my hair, but that can wait until my roommate is out of the bathroom. So what am I to do, while I wait for it to be time to traverse campus, to study Russian, to read Candide? What do I have to say that’s worth anyone hearing? The only answer that I can think of, is something Adam said to me last night:

“God made you. He made you for me. Thus, you are beautiful in my eyes.
And in His eyes. And in the eyes of you friends and family.
And beauty, real beauty, is a lot deeper than skin. A lot deeper.”

I’m not alone when I say that I struggle with my appearance. Most women do, I think. No matter how many times people tell me I’m gorgeous, I end up letting Satan sneak in, and tell me something different. My face doesn’t match my body, one eye is a darker shade, I have three gray hairs, I weigh too much, nothing fits….I could go on for hours. There are a million excuses I find to make myself feel like crap. And it amazes me, that I have the ability to take any negative thought (and sometimes positive ones ), let my imagination run wild, and envision that I am the ugliest person in the world. How wrong, how very very wrong, is that?

Something I often tell people, is that “God makes no mistakes”. When life’s circumstances are uncertain, when situations go bad, we can be safe knowing, that God doesn’t make mistakes. We do. And the glory of that, is that God can take any of our mistakes, and use it to found a better future for both ourselves, and others we may never even know. So when I discredit my face, my hips, my thighs, my toes, I’m discrediting God’s handiwork. I’m tell him, that something he created – in his own image – is unworthy and unacceptable. I’m putting myself in a place I don’t belong, to say that God made me ugly. It’s a lie. God made me for a reason. For a purpose. For something a lot greater than a mirror. My body, is shaped the way God designed it to be shaped. If you have the same struggles as I do, let me reiterate:

God made you for a reason. For a purpose. For something a lot greater than a mirror.

We are all part of a glorious masterpiece, a work of art that surpasses the most brilliant of arts in the human world. Every one of us. Not just the skinny ones, or the athletic ones, or the blondes ones, everyone. I wish that I could say this ended the struggle for me, for you, for everyone. But it doesn’t. Our culture beats into our heads with every magazine, every fairytale, every ad that “thin is in”. Weight loss clubs and advertisements give us options to “get slim quick”, to “lose those last fifteen pounds”. And though physical fitness is a grand idea for anyone, taking care of yourself and your body means a whole lot more than being thin. I’ll continue fighting this battle, for the rest of my life. And I may never win. I may never look in a mirror everyday and see the beauty that shines through my body. But what I can be sure of, is that God has already won the battle in my place. And through him, I’ll find my peace.

---

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will
strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous hand”
-Isaiah 41:10

Something Beautiful

It's 12:30sm. I start classes tomorrow. Russian, at 9:30am. You know, I knew it was a mistake when I decided to take a nap this afternoon. I knew it was a mistake when I turned my alarm off. I knew that I'd never get to sleep tonight. But I did it anyways.

What I didn't realize, is that in the dark at night when you can't sleep, is the opportune time for Satan to plague your mind. Every insecurity and struggle I have is at the forefront of my mind, and it's oh so tempting to think those things. The beauty of that, is that God's right there too.

I hear him in Adam's voice, who calls for the millionth time to see if I'm okay. I hear him in the music I play on my iPod, I see him in the glass of milk I take from the fridge (hey, it's a comfort drink!). God is everywhere.

Let your love, fall down on me
Let your mercy set me free
Let your love fall down on me my God
Let your spirit fill me up
Lord let your glory be enough
Let your love fall down on me my God
'Cause I need you like each breath I take
Father hold me and keep me safe
Lord I'm asking you to cleanse my heart with love.


--

I thought that might make me tired. It doesn't appear to have that affect. It does calm my heart though. Because who can say any of that about Satan? He's pretty much just a lazy guy in red who jumps at peoples weaknesses to do his will. Funny thing is God is so opposite, He jumps at our weaknesses, sure, but he jumps at the chance to heal us. To give us his strength.

It's curious to me how much God wants us to succeed. How much he gives us every chance we need. We just kind of have to take him up on it. Quote I love

"...that does not mean that all roads lead to God, rather that God will travel all roads to find you..."


God loves us where were at. In the moment. It's not conditional. It's not, "be perfect and I'll love you". Dude, if it were like that I'd've been dead long ago.

God's a pretty chill guy. He doesn't care if your black, blue, green, yellow, straight, gay, bisexual, sexist, greedy, what have you. He paid for it all. "His wounds have paid my ransom". Yours too.

There are no requirements to receive his love other than to receive it. Let God do the dirty work, he wants to. He wants us to be happy, and share his awesome-ity with other.

Let's do it!


Man, I'm at a liberal college. I'm around a lot of people living without God's love. It breaks my heart everyday, because I see what they're missing out on. And it's sad. My life is no better than theirs, I've got the same trouble and issues and all that crap. But He's the difference. God is the difference between living in constant hell and earth and living with a purpose and a future far beyond what we can imagine.


God is good.


All the time.


Even when we can't sleep past midnight.


Yeah, this is totally random. No one's up and I'm not tired but i am tired. I figure if no one else, God is listening.


No matter how lonely I get, I'm not alone.



So I'm just here, waving wildly, fighting to let God love me wholly.



goodnight world.


Sarrah LOyce

Oh So Lovely

raindrops fall from the sky
as each tear drops from his eye
the Father who gave us his life
cries with His son tonight,

the son feels like his faith is fading
and like he can't climb out of this sin.
and he can't see that God's also crying
He's saving Him from dying
and he's teaching him to fight

the son,
broken,
cannot see it
but his Father's holding on tight.
He's not letting him go,
He's not letting satan step in.
He's got a plan that lasts,
lasts beyond,
beyond times end.

not far away,
light from a daughters eyes
starts to fade, it's fading away
she feels the weight of the world
and feels like her faith is starting to fold

but her Fathers still looking,
He hasn't forgotten
beyond her sight
His future is forming.

the dark cannot cover
it cannot pluck another
life from the Fathers plan.

in the dark the daughter hears someone
and as light fades, the son lifts up his face
and they find themselves together
within the Father's grace.

in spite of satan's lies
the father wills it
and he intertwines their lives.

she lifts a weary arm,
as he lights a tired light
neither son nor daughter
feel alone tonight.

as they softly embrace,
a smile fills God's fact
for He's known it all along.

the rain's no longer falling
as the glorious sun bursts forth
as they as they pull close together,
they hear their Father calling
and they let him fill the space
with His never ending grace

every gap within their lives
is filled with the Father's blood
all sin,
all satan,
is eternally washed away,
and they're relieved of their countless strifes.

they can live with Him forever
and share in eternal life.

-Sarrah Loyce - 9/11/2009

THE FRENCH FRY AND THE PLATYPIE

Kait, this is for you. Everything that happens has a purpose, and nothing is unknown to God’s eyes. There’s a will and a purpose for it beyond what you could imagine, and so all you’ve got to do is keep trusting in God. Sometimes, being certain of God means being uncertain with the way the world is, but trust me, you are a beautiful daughter of his, and he’s got incredible places for you to go. I love you chickadee. :)
- + - + - + -
A blank sheet of paper is daunting. I love to write, but I fear the words I have to say are not enough. Not well enough put, not fancy enough, not elaborate enough. I worry no one will know what I’m talking about. That my words will simply fill a void. Take up a space that no one notice. And sit in a dull, lifeless existence for all the time they grace this world. And it makes you wonder, is this how I see my own place in the world? Because my words, are very much me. I put my soul into my poetry, and I feel free to say things in a way I never could out loud. But I’m not fading as person, and as long as my words are mind, they aren’t fading either. Whether they ever become well known, or adored, or even if another human being never see’s them, that doesn’t diminish their value. There’s a simple invisibility in nearly everything we do.
Now, I haven’t a clue how those thought relate to these, but I figure as I write, it’ll come to fruition. I’ve been avoiding writing this blog for some reason I don’t even know. But everytime I’ve started, I’ve given up and turned away. The topic? “French Fry’s and Platypies”. Thank you Kait. You see the whole idea started at Dairy Queen. Kait and I went out for lunch, and we were talking about everything under the sun, plus some. At one point, Kait told me a BRILLIANT saying she’d heard, “If you ever doubt God has a sense of humor, look at a platypus”. It was great, funny, not to mention really actually true. As the conversation went on, we somehow got on the topic of how God works little things that seem unnoticed into big things.
I mean hey, the “big thing” here was that we both had food, in front of us, to eat. I went off on some tangent as I often do. I said, you know, think about where this food came from. I mean check it out right, you’re eating French fries (so am I). Those had to be cooked. Someone here cooked them. But you know, to cook, they had to be delivered, so someone brought them here. But they had to be packed to be delivered, so someone had to do that. But I mean, they had to be cut up to be made fries. So you know you had to have someone slicing potatoes. But the potatoes had to come from somewhere. And you know, we haven’t got a CLUE who EVER planted these potatoes, I mean if you wanted to you could maybe trace it back, but nobody ever would. But I mean knows, that person, who planted the potato to be cut to be packaged to be shipped to be cooked for us to eat could have been walking down the street by those platypie (yes, we made up the plural version) that God made, and heck, our French fries are connected to it.
So. What’s the point of all this humble jumble? I’m pretty sure my first concept has nothing to do with my second one. But you know, if you searched hard enough, you could find the connection (besides the fact that I wrote them both). Because isn’t that the point? That everything is related and interconnected. Maybe the French fries are not REALLY kin to any platypus down the road (though I like to think they were), God is sovereign over all of that. If he wanted them to be, they could and would be connected. There is no detail - no matter how insignificant it may seem - that God hasn’t accounted for LONG before it ever happened. My writing is no mistake. It’s not a secret. God knew what I had to say long before I even existed to think to say it. And that is pretty, freaking, amazing. Look for the little things God does in your life, that you might not notice. You could be amazed when you realize how well worked and intricate something so simple as a French fry could be.

Seperation Equals Enhanced Communication.

You know, God's been on my mind. I know what you're thinking, isn't he always? But not really. I am a typical human being, and tend to only really think about God when I need him the most. You see, God has always, always been in my life. I grew up learning about God, and I am so undeniably blessed to have that experience. As I was talking to a friend over lunch today, we were talking about how people who grow up with God seem to think that they don't have a testimony. But, as my wonderful friend put it, "God has no grandchildren, he only has children". At one point or another, your relationship with Christ has to move past what you were raised with, and become personal. You have to accept God as YOUR father, YOUR savior, YOUR truth. You can't completely rely on your parents or families experience with God, YOU must experience God.

Another wise young woman I know wrote recently about her realization that being a follower of Jesus means LITERALLY following Jesus, not just believing in him. Action is key in our relationship with Christ, and you must seek him out. So when I say God is on my mind, I mean I feel the desire to continually seek him out, to search for God, not to just let him be a viewer in my life...not that God would content himself to sit on the sidelines anyways.

I began to understand this difference in London. It was the first time I have truly been on my own with God. My roommate was not a churchgoer, and I couldn't go home on the weekends to go to church with mom and dad. If I didn't seek out a church, or seek out Christ, it wasn't happening. Period. So the first week I didn't go to church, I didn't really even think about God come Sunday. I just let things be what they were. Luckily God was smart enough to nudge me in the right direction, and my host mom asked me if I wanted to attend church here because I mentioned it in my letter to them, so she told me about all the different churches and this and that. So the next Sunday I went, mostly because I was afraid of what my host parents would think if I didn't. It was scary to go to a church where I knew no one, alone, in a foreign country. But I did, and instantly felt a desire to keep going.

And as life kept going, the little tiny flame for Christ started to blaze in a way I hadn't really experienced before. I hadn't brought a bible with me, so I started a search for one (side note, the new international version is not very big internationally, haha). This lead me to talk to other people in the group, and realize there were other believers with me. I remember feeling an unquenchable thirst to read 1 Corinthians so I borrowed a girls bible while she was in class, and just soaked in the glorious work of God. I then felt a need to read the Shack, so my search continued. Eventually I found both a bible and the book, and read through them in a short period of time.

I have never felt so full of God. Being separated from my comfort zone gave me the chance to see just how much I need and want him in my life. To see just how much my relationship with him is about him and I, not the church and him. I need to be included in it. I need to be in constant communication. I need to surrender to God. I need to pray to God. Church is a fabulous, wondrous thing, but it's not everything. I still gladly attend church on Sundays, and I commune with other believers, and I learn about God. But in London my relationship transformed from secondary to personal. And it's so much the better for it.

God is all about love.


And I am in love with God.

The Ending of an Epic Journey

I leave London tomorrow. It's truly a bittersweet thought. I am so incredibly thrilled to come home and see my family and friends and all of that, but. You know, London has become a home. And Tina, Stefan, Caspar, and Katie have become family. I have grown inexplicably in the time that I've been here, in terms of education, personality, and faith. I've learned a good deal more than the program sought to teach, and I've had the experience of a lifetime. I will take every person and every moment that I have encountered here back to the US with me, and I will have a broader perspective of the world.

Thank God for foreign study.


If God calls you too, GO.

Entertaining Kafka's Waiting

It's a combination of idea's from three plays..."Entertainng Mr.Sloane", "Kafka's Monkey", and "Waiting for Godot". Work in progress, but I'm posting what I have....enjoy.


Entertainng Kafka's Waiting
"Ladies and gentlemen of the academy",
three voices create one sound.
Different, yet connected.
"All I know is that the hours are long",
can one entertain my wait?
"he loves me", she says,
but do they know that is not true?
they entertain my wait.
As "I account my former life, as an ape"
"I don't seem to be able to...depart"
I guess I wait for a newer life to start
but "we're waiting" always always.
"you wouldn't put me away, would you"?
you wouldn't let my stories go to waste.
"I'm impressionable"
so entertain me
let me speak my story so long
because we wait, we wait.
and you entertain my wait.
"saved from what?"
"we are all born mad, and we remain so"

The Other Conversation

When class discussions get boring, I listen for things that people say without saying. Here is a combination poem of about 10 minutes of conversation. It's all taken completely out of context, but funny how you can make a poem out of it none the less.


The Other Conversation
Language substituting for props.
"I bite my thumb at you, sir"
Remember? Yeah, it's coming back.

It's especially her field.
It depends, says she.
Does that make sense to you?
Can you make a connection of that?
Well, yeah. A little confusion of absence,
they may be in the same time of creation...
but that's not.

It's written in more of a tradition,
this is teetering on the grounds,
it's more simple stories.

Buckle up, she says,
there were two takes of the play.

They were featured so heavily,
that gives you a sense of the reverence.
He had a circle of people around him,
at the time called a work in progress.
The afternoon would go on.

No, no, leave it in.
He had an embrace of chance.
Demanding, in terms of demands.

I think definitely the language,
this is an old for of new.
The simplicity of it, the everyday of it,
I think that's modern.

Is every edition just like this?
He wants the text to speak for itself.
They are all kind of sparse...
apparently.

He hung onto the script,
one of the interesting things.
Historically, he was blocked.

They're fabulous,
it's doodling.

Language is one of the modern things,
the poetic language and philosophical scpiel.

Not just the very man.
Nothing happens twice.

Just going with that...
that's it.
Sarrah Loyce, 26 May 2009

JoAnne

JOANNE
1 Corinthians 4: 10-13
“We are fools for Christ, but you are so wise in Christ! We are weak, but you are so strong! You are honored, we are dishonored! To this very hour we go hungry and thirsty. We are in rags, we are brutally treated, we are homeless. We work hard with our own hands. When we are cursed, we bless; when we are persecuted, we endure it: when we are slandered, we answer kindly. Up to this moment we have become the scum of the earth, the refuse of the world.”

Today, I met a woman named JoAnne. To most, she is an invisible woman, but too me, she is a person who represents something I would like to be. You see, JoAnne is homeless. She sleeps in the fire exit of a Tesco, she sells “The Big Issue” at Euston square, and she occasionally visits classrooms to share her experience. Though she looks tired, and cold, and though most days I might walk past her without a second glance, today JoAnne was an inspiration in a dim world, and I long to have some of the faith she lives on every day. JoAnne said nothing to me or my class of God, or having any faith in him, but she served as an example of unspoken strength. Though her situation may only relate to mine in a spiritual sense, I admire her. And so, I will tell you about JoAnne, and what a daughter of God she is.
A typical day for JoAnne goes a little like this. She gets up before 7am. If she doesn’t, the managers of Tesco will come make her move out of the emergency exit. She packs up what little she has – a sleeping bag, and a couple quilts – and is maybe given a bagel by the man who works in the pub across the way. She goes to the nearest tube stop and waits until she can hop behind someone swiping their oyster card and get through the gates. She takes the tube to Euston square, where she spends most of her day. She sells “The Big Issue” (the only legitimate way of making money if you are homeless) and hopes that people will donate food or money. She can’t have a sign, or cup, or bowl – begging is illegal in London. She might make between 8 and 15 pounds, depending on the day.
She has to use all of this money on food, so it’s impossible to save any money. Eating out in London is expensive, but it’s JoAnne’s only means of eating. She has no way to cook or keep any food, no kitchen, nothing. So if she’s lucky, she might get a meal or two for the day. From here, she typically heads back to the Tesco, again, having to use someone else to get onto the tube. She puts out cardboard to stay warm, gets in her sleeping bag, and covers herself with her blankets. She can’t sleep until 2 or 3 am, because the people in the Pub across the way are noisy and obnoxious. At 7am, her day begins again.
JoAnne spends most of these days unnoticed. “Regular” people pass her by without a second glance. They offer her little money or food, and when they do, they forget she’s a person. It’s easy as people with oodles to think, “well you don’t like what I give you, fine then, I won’t give you anything”. But JoAnne is still human. She doesn’t like bananas in the same way you or I don’t like hotdogs, or tomatoes, or pea’s. Why is it that because she lacks possessions, she loses her right to humanity?
It’s not a safe world JoAnne lives in. She’s been raped, beaten, and attacked before. She lives on the streets with no protection, and she finds it practically impossible to trust another person. But what kind of faith must she have to keep going, to make it through every day in such dismal circumstances. If you ask her, she will tell you her hope is her children. She has three, whom have all been taken from her life. She recently became able to see the eldest, and must wait until the other two are eighteen to see them. I find JoAnne to possess a faith that I lack, and I long for the spiritual homelessness that creates such unfathomed faith.
I guess what really struck me about JoAnne is that she didn’t seem to see herself as lacking in anything. She might be without food, she might be without appreciation, she might go unnoticed by the world, but she still had a purpose, something worth getting up every day, something making living worthwhile. And I wish that I could be homeless in that sense. That I could see beyond my material desires, and just live on the faith that Christ gives me. In that bit of 1 Corinthians I have above, Paul is talking about how the apostles are the scum of the earth, the homeless. Yet despite the trials, they bless, and they have grace, and they live knowing that this world isn’t it. I long to be that kind of homeless in this world, and long to live for the home Christ gives me in him. I long to become the “scum of the earth”, and to live for something different then the plastic people of the world, to have faith in what’s real, and to be able to show undying faith to others spiritually as JoAnne did to me literally.

1 Corinthians 4: 3-5
“I care very little if I am judged by you or by any human court; indeed, I do not even judge myself. My conscience is clear, but that does not make me innocent. It is the Lord who judges me. Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait till the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of people’s hearts. At the time each will receive their praise from God.”

An Epic Amount of Poems

Okay, here goes. I couldn't imagine sleeping, so I thought I may as well type these up. Enjoy, hate, love, learn, what have you.

Challenge #2 - Use only song lyrics/titles.
And So We Shuffle
Measure your life in love,
time after time,
don’t forget.
It just takes a little faith,
and when the music starts,
I search for life.
Our shadows grow,
speak from my heart,
pretend that you’re feeling.
The time has come,
one single drop of rain,
and it’s crazy.
Possibilities,
like the stars,
guitar packed in the truck.
To run ‘round the wind,
what’s next,
once in love?
Surprise surprise,
turn your fear,
keep on thinking.
Looks like another silent night,
where did we go wrong,
when are you going to rhyme again?
Wake up sleeper,
you don’t have to do that,
it was so unique.
Sunrise,
makes her fly,
and I know I’m making something.
-Sarrah Loyce




Challenge #3 - my least favorite challenge which turned into my favorite poem (maybe). Challenge was to write a poem regarding your emotions that alludes to a minimum of seven literary/biblical people/places/events.
Untitled
overwhelming discontent
running, but I cannot hide
reality swallows me like the whale
and like Jonah, I still cower,
facing the sea is easier,
than acknowledging what faces me.

I find myself at a crossroads,
like Alice, with two bottle from which to choose.
a choice must be made,
it's a fact I can't avoid,
so I close my eyes, and I drink.

Am I David or Goliath?
Do I fight or am I fought?
Do I conquer, or do I fail?

I return to the road again.
the road less traveled, the long road home
I fall before him and confess
denying my denial, I am Peter
I beg to return, and I am forgiven.

So I start back on my way.
I fight like a Spartan,
long and hard, to the death.
but can I conquer?
will I defeat this fear?

How do I prevail
What is winning in this world?
Is winning containing my Pandora?
or being wholly known?
Am I an Eddie, or shall I settle for half?

No matter the case, life's a riddle
told by a Centaur who knows more than I.
all that can be done is to choose a way,
and wholeheartedly run for the gate.
pray to my God, ask for forgiveness.
scribe my name in the book, please God,
'Cause I'm coming home one day.
-Sarrah Loyce




Challenge #4: Write a dark poem, only talking about how love sucks. (Katie, my challenger, was asked to do the opposite.) Nyst be dark, angry, and/or depressing. (I don't make the rules :P)
Ugly Love
Love
is repulsive
a vulgar lie
it's a mutual misguidance
where two people think they've got it right
it starts out as a spark
and turn into a lustful lying flame
contently they lie, hoping that together they'll die.
I hope so too, please, see it through
and remove your idiocy from my life
"true love waits", no, true love hates
and it's truly a work of your mind.
it must take such imagination
to believe a thing like love could exist.
it must be a fanciful indignation, how dare you call love wise.
philosophers may fall, and lovers call out each others praise
but love will always fail, and fall under my scornful gaze.
-Sarrah Loyce




Challenge #5 - what about next Tuesday
What About Next Tuesday
today I sit, and I write
I listen, and I contemplate.
It's Friday, I know, but what
what about next Tuesday?
Something important comes that day
I don't yet know what is, maybe
So I sit, and I stand
I draw, and I meditate
on things I may already know. but what
what about next Tuesday?
what is it that calls my attention so?
it's just another day, the weather
will be what it may, so why?
why next Tuesday? why won't
it leave my head? I'll wait until
next Tuesday. and I'll hope for the best
instead. of. dwelling
on next Tuesday. but what
what about the next, next Tuesday?
another fixation that may come into my head?
It's not that it's next Tuesday.
it's the wonder and the want. but what
what is it about next Tuesday's?
why much some question always be in my mind?
curse you! Curse you Tuesday!
and next Tuesday, an all Tuesdays
after that, Good day, next Tuesday,
I'll think of Monday instead.
-Sarrah Loyce



Challenge #6 was the Attraction of Insanity...which I wonder if people will hate.




This last one is not a challenge, just a poem I wrote on my way home. (and yes, I know it changes tense)
Man on the Tube
You can see it in his face
he's remembering
it's a good memory, an old one
he relives it as I watch him,
he just looks off into space
and he smiles, a secret smile
as if he knows something you don't
and he does.
and you wonder what good memory it could possibly be
is it triggered by his music?
or is it something about the tube?
content to wonder, you write
and he dreams of that mysterious night
and you both just go on your way.
-Sarrah Loyce

The Attraction of Insanity

So, this is another one of the poetry challenges. I've done several, and I will post them all eventually, but this one has caught my attention. Though it's a little...odd...compared to my typical writing. I find myself loving it. It's a bit insane, but that's the point. The challenge of this poem was to write from the perspective of an absolutely, insane person. To go all out. And I did. And I like the result. (It's long).

The Attraction of Insanity
Get back! Get back I tell you!
Step away from my bridge.
Stop it! Stop it now!
Don't dissuade me into your fridge.
Yes, your fridge, I mean it.
Stop looking at me that way.
All you do is cold and stagnant.
Waiting. For what day?
Waiting for the end, you see.
You want what I welcome freely.
Suicidal? Not so! Get your judgment out of my way.
You fear what I relish, I won't wait to be thrown away.
Yes, I intend it. What's that you say?
Hah! Me the crazy one, 'cause you're the one to say?
What's so crazy about my freedom,
my unabridged fate? It ends with unreason,
wiping clean my dirty slate?
Hah! I laugh as you imagine
that I'm the crazy one.
I live without your fear.
No, I don't hesitate.
Back away! You're much to close
take another step away.
I've gone off the deep end? No,
not yet anyways.
What makes you so afraid? Stop!
Stop thinking of me that way!
I'm freer than you'll ever be,
and I'm not afraid to say.
No, I welcome it. Such as death,
might welcome the plague.
Yes, it isn't pretty, to think of life that way.
But what is? What's beauty that isn't fake?
It's out here, it's up there, it's living without such hate.
I hate, you say? What, what do I hate?
Myself, you say? Well, if true,
you've come much too late.
Too late, yes, I've said it.
Too late for the standards of your world.
Too late instead of early,
that's what happens when you hesitate.
I see you roll your eyes,
my honesty doesn't make me blind.
You see, that there, can't you see what you do?
You've decided what's for me, it's true.
But what will happen to you?
If I jump, you might go crazy,
and then possibly you'll see.
It's not my vision that's hazy,
I've just found the key.
The key? You laugh. But I can unlock what you cannot.
Yes, I can unlock what's truly in my soul.
What is that? You ask, but why should I tell?
What reason do you give me?
Why is it that your thirst is what I should fill??
Oh yes, your thirst. You long for what I have.
That's why you're here, you see.
Yes, you find it attractive, my insanity.
Get back! You come too close if you want to hear my words.
See? You step away. That's right, you're doing good.
I hold what you cannot have.
You long to be in my spot.
You wish for my freedom, my utter "insanity".
That's right, I mock you, I laugh at what you say.
You're attracted to my spirit, because you can't take it away.
Yes, yes, you wish I could be you.
That my thoughts might fill your mind.
You think me repulsive, yet you're jealous.
So turn, turn your face away!
Get back! Get back and step away!
You think I'm that distracted?
You think I'm utterly disturbed?
I see you and your men, as you surround me on both sides.
You think that you can stop me?
Hah! I laugh in the face of your pride.
I've made my decision, and I'm done.
Done leading a smothering life.
Say goodbye to my children, give my well wishes to my wife.
Yes, I've a family I must leave.
Shme they chose to remain in strife.
I'd ask them to join me,
but they'd say I'm asking for their life.
One more step and I go! It's no effort from me.
I'd just be filling my life's destiny.
Yes, I've got it.
The attraction of insanity.
I fill my heart with freedom,
and now I take my final leap.

-Sarrah Loyce

Poetry Challenge #1

So, my friend Katie is a writer much like myself. We decided on our last four hour train ride from Scotland to London, that we would each make a "poetry challenge" for the other to write on the trip. Here was Katie's challenge for me:

Write a poem incorporating four bible verse you like, one line from each verse. This poem must be "dark".

And here's my poem:

Untitled (I lost count of what number..)
a reflection
an outside glimpse of what is
a glance in second person
an opportunity for harsh scrutiny
"each heart knows it's own bitterness"
but what might a reflection reveal?
the underbelly of the bitter,
where the softness tries to hide?
what's the wisdom of this reference,
this outward, inward glance?
what's the reason for reflection,
when hearts use it too advance?
"where is the philosopher of this age?
can he see his sinners soul?
No. He remains blind despite reflection,
he remains within hearts lies,
furthering the hearts disguise,
so run from your reflection,
"and so deceive yourselves"
push away chance of correction,
and "devote yourselves to prayer"
but know that prayer without intention
helps filthy hearts succeed;
allows them to hide despite reflection
and lets their bitterness become their need.


The quoted lines are the bits from verses. The verses include: Proverbs 14:10, Colossians 4:2, James 1:23, and 1 Corinthians 1:20, in case you were curious.

More to come, as I have yet another challenge to work on.


<3 Sarrah Loyce

Overawed

I am overawed, and how incredible a God God is. In the past year, I've gone through some pretty intense changes, ones that I really didn't want to accept at first. The process of making them was messy and unpleasant, but necessary. I can be one of those people who dislikes change. Sometimes it takes me a while to adjust, and these changes took me a really long time. As crazy as it may sound, the biggest change for me was giving up on my dream of becoming a pediatric oncologist. No one seemed to understand how big a deal that was for me, but honestly, I still get a little teary when I think about it today.

As early as fifth grade, I found all of my value and purpose in the pursuit of that dream. I managed to turn peoples encouragement into confinement, and believe that becoming a life saving, pediatric oncologist was the only fulfilling thing in my life. Every thing else was just a step in that direction I isolated myself from options, and gave up on studying things I loved. I feed off of peoples praise for my efforts, and I defined myself by succeeding at that. And it was hard. I love chemistry, but let's be honest, I don't really have a knack for the higher level stuff. When I started to realize that, I panicked. So after a lot of teary nights, and failing a class because I was too stubborn to get the help I needed, I decided I could deal with myself if I just went ahead a did nursing. That would be okay.

So then, I transferred to UW. Not only was I having to try to pretend to be okay with this little shift, I also had to move completely out of my comfort zone, and I hated it. I don't know how many people I told how many times that I hated UW, it was horrible, and I was getting out of there as soon as I could. Those were all the cries of poor adjustment, my parents knew that, but my friends didn't. Some of them pushed me to stay, other pushed me to go. I was an absolute wreck, and had no idea how to relinquish that control. All I had was school. Looking back, it's so completely ridiculous how much I thrived off of school. And then, my classes were difficult. I worked early, went to school late, and had little fun. With each slide about nutrition or biology, I found myself loathing me because I wasn't getting it. And still, I was too proud to ask for help. And I wonder now, when was it that I forgot about God?

Because I can tell you, that I rarely prayed. When I did, it was usually because I was so overly emotional that I couldn't help but pray for some kind of relief, or because I was with other people. I played a christian pretty well, but I didn't really trust God with anything. I was so, insanely, unhappy and closed off from options of any sort. And I kept thinking back to abuelo, and how he died. Cancer, this thing I so badly wanted to fix, is what took his life. I didn't realize how much this affected me. It's almost as if I blamed myself because I didn't have the capacity to help him. I know that is utterly ridiculous, but I just kept wanting to fix things. And then to go to school and fail at all of these things, it was like disappointing his memory. Which is just even stupider, because of all people, my abuelo encouraged me to live and love my life. He told me time and time again, that it didn't matter what I did, he was proud of me, and that would be amazing. But somehow, that didn't click. Somehow, that meant I will be proud of you when you do something. And all I could possibly fathom being amazing was being a doctor. Which is so annoying a thought to me know, because that is so incredibly narrow-minded.

And then I start to take out my anger at myself on people close to me. Which is very uncool. I made necessary changes that I don't regret in and of themselves, but I do greatly regret the people that I hurt in my poor taste in making them (if that makes any amount of sense). I was so concerned with myself, that I lost my care for other people, which is what supposedly stemmed these great academic aspirations. And then, I broke down. Not in the emotional wreck sense of the phrase, clearly I'd been there and done that, but I broke down in the sense of control. I finally let go, and gave God the reigns. It wasn't a one step process, but I did. I applied to spring in London because I felt a random inspiration to do something fun (God). And I prayed, and prayed, and prayed. Because, oh Lord, what was I going to do if I wasn't going to do nursing? And I felt God calling me to study english, and writing. And I though, no, that's something I do for fun. And God said

"..."

In less words then that really. So I decided to apply this concept Natalie and Candy had talked about, and "laid out a fleece" with God. So, if I was accepted to the study abroad program, I would major in English, and go for creative writing. And I wasn't really okay with that, but what other option did I have? So I decided to start writing again - I hadn't written a poem in 2 years - and the words just spilled out onto the paper. I was personally shocked, and even more shocked when people other then my mother expressed an interest in reading them. And then I began to get a little more courageous, and remember that God does know what he's talking about. And though I still get nervous, and have no idea how this is going to work, and am coming to the end of school within a year or so, I am so much happier. For probably the first time in my life, I'm okay with not knowing everything. And I still worry that I've disappointed people some time, but I remember that God's got me where I am for a reason, and though I'm still a little nervous about thing, I should probably make what I can out of it.

I don't want to miss out on anymore of my living because I am stuck in a rut, or because I am afraid of disappointing others. I want to live to be consistently overawed with my life, and how awesome or awful it may be at the moment, because I want to rely on God to take me where I am going. I want to be okay with breaking down, and not having to hide it from everyone because it makes me appear out of control. I am gladly out of control, and following God. I have big dreams for my future still, and whether or not they come to fruition is not entirely the point. The point is that by having less defined direction in my life, God has given me better directions, and though they may not carry my mind all the way into the future, they are enough, and I am content to be overawed.

If you're one of the people I hurt along the way - I'm sorry. If you're along with me for the rest of the journey, I hope you know how much that means to me, and how happy I am with God and where he is leading all aspects of my life.


The End
Sarrah

Seconds From the City

Just
seconds from the city

a place
quiet
grassy, flowered bliss
to one side a bell rings
time passes
and life is hurried
to the other side
traffic
busy sidewalks with busy people
still rushing
but here

just
seconds from the city

is quiet
one man leans against a tree
sun shedding light on his newspaper
couples on benches
loving together
more people sitting on the grass
students with lunch in hand
who knew there could be such bliss

just
seconds from the city

blossoms bloom on trees
indicating the spring
flowers spreading across the green

just
seconds from the city

this park,
this beautiful wondrous place
seconds from the city
is peace
it escapes the bustle
the noise
and keeps you

just
seconds from the city.

London: Day 1

Lots learned today, to much to write about constantly. I will do weekly updates I suppose, haha.

Highlight of today though, was learning that pepperspray is illegal in Europe. How we learned this? Poor Molly (I think it was Molly, anyways) was arrested after having her back searched in the Tube (apparently typical). You should've seen the look on the girl next to me's face when we heard this, as she had pepperspray in her bag...

Ahh well, what can you do other then get rid of it?


EDIT: It was not Molly, but Molly's friend. :)

I have arrived...

In the lovely London. Not much to say right yet, very exhausted. But I made it, and I'm loving what I've seen thus far!

God Bless
Sarrah

Inspired by Bowling...

When the winds all change
You stay the same
When the waters rage
Your love remains
When I'm lost in doubt
You pull me out
And you let love lead the way
When the road seems long
You make me strong
When the rain pours down
You give me solid ground
When I cry in shame
You call my name
And make me whole again
You are mighty
Much stronger then I know
And when I fight thee
That's when your love best shows
Cause you pick me up
And you love me all the same
So very mighty
Is you holy name.

-Sarrah Fletcher 3/16/09

L...Lo..LONDON!

That's right. I am going to London. On March 23rd. To June 6th. Here is where I will post updates, mostly because I am too lazy to make another blog.

So, off to bed I go for now, but keep your eyes peeled!

God Bless
Sarrah

The Irony of Accidental Conversation

So, the other day I was talking to a friend of mine. A good friend, we've been pretty close for almost four years now, and we were just you know, talking about nothing. In his attempt to say "how are you" (he is probably the WORST speller you will ever meet) he asked "who are you". Quite confused, I responded "who am I?". After about a gazillion years of typing - myself confused all the while - he responded with the following:

"your are sarrah loyce fletcher you love littel kids you love to help liitle kids you are a child of God you are a doughter of (insetrt parents names hear i for got them dont tell them haha) you are a wonderful young lady who has her who life ahead of her you are lots of fun to be around you are very good at everything you do you know how to spell from haha you have a beautiful singing voice you are quite brittle around your wrists haha you like men you are the only one like you".

After reading and being boggled at why in the world this friend felt a very random need to tell me who I was, I smiled to myself. Because, what a reminder from God that was to me. It may have appeared to be an accidental occurrence, but it was a reminder of who I really am, and why I have gotten to where I am.

I so often struggle with finding my identity, and I lose faith in myself more then anyone else I know does. I doubt my capabilities and I question my love and my passions, I talk about giving up, and I wish I had the mental capacity to be a quitter. But then when I see myself from someone elses perspective - however misspelled, forgetful, and silly it may be - I see what a treasure I am, how much God has given me too offer this world.

And that's what makes it worth it. Every step that I take in a direction that I'm still not comfortable with, I find a new avenue of my soul that I didn't know existed before. I start to see the things that others see in me, and I begin to see how much God has done for me. I am coming up on a lot of humongous events in my life - leaving the country, making my home here in an apartment in Seattle, becoming an Aunt for the second time, essentially growing up. And though my wrists may be brittle and break easy - my soul cannot and will not. There are too many people rooting for me, and it's high time I start rooting for myself.

So basically:

"'Once you get over the fear, then it's a cinch', she said. And then she leaped into a mountainous and unexplored region of her heart." - Unknown

The Sound of Your Soul

I live for sound.

That is, I love to HEAR things. Music, voices, that's what I love about people. I mean, don't get me wrong. I love personalities, physical charactheristics, you name it - but I LOVE voices. I feel like, when I hear people speak, I hear their soul. It's not so much what they are saying...just the sound of it. I don't know, it's weird to describe, but each different inflection of words, each different tone of voice get me giggly and fascinated.

Sooooo, if I ever tell you I love the way you say something (even if we are talking online or whaterver), it's because I hear what you are saying...like...really. I don't know if that sounds weird or whatever, it just is. I spend a lot of time listening to people, and I loveeeee it.

On Matters of the Heart

So, people have got me thinking about love lately. It could be that it's valentines day, or that the people I live with or all dating, Adam's blog on relationships, or any number of other things. But it has got me thinking about it a lot.

I've been in two relationships. They were both fabulous at the time, but ended terribly. I think this is because I lost sight of God and his plans for me in those relationships, but that's a good lesson learned.

So I was thinking about it right before Christmas, and I wrote myself a dating covenant. A little "contract" if you will between God and myself, outlining the things I want to keep my mind on. I'd forgotten about it until this morning, and when I went back and read it again...well it cleared up a lot of issues in my mind. I am so glad I wrote it honestly at a time when there wasn't anything distracting me from how I know I want to spend my life.

I guess the point of this, is to encourage you to do the same. It's important to know what you are looking for, know what you are willing to sacrifice, and remember how God asks us to live our lives. If you are interested in reading my covenant, I would be fine with that. Just send me an email or something so I can send it too you, I'm not going to post it here for the whole world to read.

So yes, that is my mini, not very in depth thoughts on love.....


Intertwined
are two hearts
together
they make one soul
separate in body
but together in Christ
living
to meet the ultimate goal.

Illuminating Illusions

Illusions
of what is
of what is not
sometimes so dark
that we cannot see
past what they make us
believe that we are seeing
but light
illusions of light
make the world seem to be
so bright and so full of something
more then the darkness we find at our cores
is the light
an illusion of
what we wish things
to be? Or is the illusion
of the darkness we perceive?
What can we say is reality, if
we do not know what we can believe
light is the opposite of the dark, one
cannot exist
without the other
so then, what can we say
to whether we prefer night
or day? we must instead realize
that the illusion is just another
illusion that hides itself in what we
think it is that we see. Light exists, as does
the dark. What matters, is what can persist.


-Sarrah Loyce 2/7/09


I'm not sure if this makes any sense...

Shakespeare....

So, I had to write my own scene for Twelfth Night for my Shakespeare class. It probably will make little sense if you don't know the story of the play, but I'm pretty pleased with my Shakespearean language/verse use. So I thought I would post it here. Enoy:

Twelfth Nigh - Scene Writing
Olivia: Here is a pearl of mine for you, love

Sebastian: For what do I owe this sweet favor, O sweet lady?

Olivia: Tis for all that you have said and done for me, my love
Come, come and marry me, and we can live in bliss

Sebastian: But what have I said or done for you my sweet?
I have ne’er seen your face, so beautiful, before today
You say ‘tis a gift for marriage,
Why dost thou wish to marry me when thou knowst me not?

Olivia: But oh my sweet, how I know thee to be
Thou art a sweet and gentle man
Whose face is softer then all
Whose sweet lips I do wish to kiss
Whose hand I do wish to hold
Come my love, put off our marriage no longer
Wed thee mine, and take me as thou own

Sebastian: Oh beautiful lady, thou knowst me not
I am not the sweetest man as you say
Oh but beauty as fine as yours
Is too much to be so mad
So yes, be my blushing bride my sweet
And I thy sweet and glowing groom.
To hold thy hand, I long
to take thy pearl, I must
[Sebastian exit to ponder, Olivia remains]
Olivia: Oh, such a man have I found
One who dost not wish to know me as he does
One who longs to know me as his wife
Before he dost claim to have known me then
Too proud to be a beggar,
Yet so sweet to by mine
Oh, I must go and find a priest
So that he might take my hand so soon
and that we might have sweet love
for ‘tis he for whom I dost swoon [Exit Olivia]

Hidden Answers

Unnoticed, unknown
Silent and scared.
Magical, mysterious
Internal and intense
Listening, loving
Everything and everlasting
Insignificant, interesting
Laughing and loud.
Awesome, adoring
Understanding and untold.
Glistening, glowing
Her heart is his.

-Sarrah Loyce


can you find the secrets?

Attack of the blog-aholic

Hello there lovely people! Seeing as how I am addicted to writing notes of poetry and the like on facebook, I may as well condense them to somewhere...more concrete?? Haha, I don't know, but here we go again.

I suck at being consistent in posting blogs, so...you should subscribe and notice for yourself about when I post something :D


Love yawl
Sarrah