Ok folks, here they are. Sarah's very amazing goals for 2013. Stay tuned, because I will publicly declare (I think), at the end of 2013, whether or not I met these very amazing goals:
*Go on a date
*Weigh 125 lbs
*Try to publish something
Happy New Year!!!!! YAYYYYY!!!! Wahoooo!!!!
Friday, December 28, 2012
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Daddy's Girl
When I think of Daddy, I think of God. I guess it's because he seems... a little fearsome, and yet wonderful and safe all at the same time. In fact, many of my ideas of what God is like are mixed up with Daddy.
You could say that talking about God is Daddy's job. For most of my growing up years he was a pastor (for those that don't know, that's kind of like being a priest). I've spent a lot of time listening to him talk about God, in church (fidgeting in the pew), and at home (squished on the couch with seven restless siblings). To grow up a PK (the official acronym for Pastor's Kid) wasn't on my list of Most Wanted Things to Be, but I didn't happen to be around when God made that particular decision. So, I heard about God, and the Bible, a lot (did I say that already?).
But it wasn't just talk, it was action too, for the whole family. So, instead of Barney and Sesame Street, we listened to Christian Adventures in Odyssey on Saturday morning radio, and instead of riding to school in a yellow bus, we did our math at the kitchen table. And I knew how to say Malachi at a very young age and was shocked one day around age ten when I heard a lady say "oh my gosh!" (people swore?). My friends were the kids at church, and I wore skirts all the time.
And along the way I watched my dad. One day, he gave away the sneakers he was wearing (and walked away in his socks) to a homeless man, and another time he sang "I Would Love to Tell You What I Think of Jesus" to a crowd even though he's not a singer. He was the only person that I ever remember seeing dance in church (think stoic New England kind of congregation) . He had a "fire in his belly" in the words of one parishioner; he couldn't do anything halfway, whether it was preaching a sermon or playing a game of pick-up basketball. Now he works and prays overseas in a politically fragile country when most men his age are enjoying retirement.
And somewhere in there I believed God too. Not because he was always perfect, or because I always liked how we did things, but because he made God seem believable. If you want to meet a real Christian I would be happy to introduce you to Bob Adams.
You could say that talking about God is Daddy's job. For most of my growing up years he was a pastor (for those that don't know, that's kind of like being a priest). I've spent a lot of time listening to him talk about God, in church (fidgeting in the pew), and at home (squished on the couch with seven restless siblings). To grow up a PK (the official acronym for Pastor's Kid) wasn't on my list of Most Wanted Things to Be, but I didn't happen to be around when God made that particular decision. So, I heard about God, and the Bible, a lot (did I say that already?).
But it wasn't just talk, it was action too, for the whole family. So, instead of Barney and Sesame Street, we listened to Christian Adventures in Odyssey on Saturday morning radio, and instead of riding to school in a yellow bus, we did our math at the kitchen table. And I knew how to say Malachi at a very young age and was shocked one day around age ten when I heard a lady say "oh my gosh!" (people swore?). My friends were the kids at church, and I wore skirts all the time.
And along the way I watched my dad. One day, he gave away the sneakers he was wearing (and walked away in his socks) to a homeless man, and another time he sang "I Would Love to Tell You What I Think of Jesus" to a crowd even though he's not a singer. He was the only person that I ever remember seeing dance in church (think stoic New England kind of congregation) . He had a "fire in his belly" in the words of one parishioner; he couldn't do anything halfway, whether it was preaching a sermon or playing a game of pick-up basketball. Now he works and prays overseas in a politically fragile country when most men his age are enjoying retirement.
And somewhere in there I believed God too. Not because he was always perfect, or because I always liked how we did things, but because he made God seem believable. If you want to meet a real Christian I would be happy to introduce you to Bob Adams.
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