A Plea

Dear people,

You need to know that I am regular.

I am normal, average.

I am 23 years old. I brush my teeth twice a day. I don't shower daily. I never sleep with socks. Sometimes I make my bed. Recently I haven't been cooking regularly/eating well, but I am committing to starting in September. I don't really like dogs. Sometimes I throw food out instead of composting. Same with cardboard. I have gross feet. Sometimes I swear, accidentally. Sometimes not accidentally. I am a people pleaser. I really struggle with being cynical, especially towards wealth.

But I get put on a pedestal. By lots of people. Lots of times.

I don't know why.

They think I do good things. They think they can't do what I do. They think I'm deeper, stronger, somehow more than them.

WELL I'M NOT.

I do things that God leads and gifts me to do. I cannot boast in that, only of in Christ in me. So please don't boast in that for me.

I can't do what you do. Obviously, we cannot all do the same things. Thankfully.

I'm no deeper, no stronger, and in no way more than anyone else.

So please don't think that I am.

Because when you do, I am alienated.

Put away on a different level, on an 'unrelatable level', on that fancy pedestal.

And I have so far to fall when you realize that I'm just a regular person.

I am relatable. Please, let me relate to you.

I want to, I crave to, I need to.

Because when you put me up high, I'm alienated.

And when I'm alienated, I'm so, so lonely.

And when lonliness sets in, my personal world is so bleak.

Please let me be 'just Sarah'.

Thank you, you have no idea how much.

From, Sarah

Bride Wars

I am tired. I had little sleep last night, and I've been packing up my apartment all day, so I decided to watch a movie on my *new* computer (it actually has sound, it's rather exciting).

The only movie at my house that I hadn't seen was lo and behold, Bride Wars. I thought it would be humourous, seeing as this seems to be the phase of life that I'm smack dab in the middle of.

Well I wasn't really impressed. Yet again, Hollywood comes out with another explanation for our high divorce rate: when the whole 'thing' is 100% focused on the wedding, and forgets about the marriage.I'm not even sure if I remember the names of the fiances, I don't think it said anything about them and there was almost nothing on the relationships of the couples.But I mean, the dresses were beautiful, the hair; perfect, flowers; lovely, decorations; enticing, location; romantic, rings; sparkling.

I wonder how the couples work through conflict.

I wonder how they adjusted to living together.

I wonder where they make up for each others' short comings, where one's weaknesses are balanced out by the other's strengths.

I wonder how they get along with each others' in-laws.

I wonder where they saw their lives 5, 10, 25 years down the road.

I wonder how they coped with each others' quirks.

I wonder if they were comfortable farting around each other. Or throwing up.

I wonder if one was a vegetarian, and how that affected their shopping list.

I wonder which states their siblings lived in.

But I mean, I KNOW that the dresses were beautiful, the hair; perfect, flowers; lovely, decorations; enticing, location; romantic, rings; sparkling.And once the best friends were reunited, the wedding was complete.
And that's all that matters, right?

THE RES

Broken.

Void.

Empty:

of attention

of love

of care.

Set aside by our country,

our government,

Forgotten about,

not cared about.

Seen only is the alcohol, the abuse, the brokeness,

and not given a second thought of hope.

Why so desolate?

You take away their culture,

their ways,

their lifestyle.

Press your ways on them

Foreign.

Unhealthy.

Unwanted.

DESTROYING their souls,

their families,

their humanity...

...humans.

Broken humans,

now generations deep in the syndrome.

'How do I cope?

How do I deal,

How do I heal?

The bottle.

Numbing the reality I've come to hate,

the reality I call my life,

the life I cannot escape.'

Houses from the third world,

toys littered,

cars burned,

windows boarded.

She has no yard, so she plays in muddy street puddles.

His family is living in a tent because their is no roof over their head.

Nine years old and the colours of his gang are his outward identity.

Her face so twisted from her mother's poor decisions during pregnancy,

lisped speech

snotty nose

and all she wants to do is twirl, twirl, twirl.

LOVE.

hope to trust, and

trust to hope.

Beauty in the broken,

Flourishing in love.

And when she smiles at me, everything is worth it.

Hungry bellies; no food in the cupboards.

Hurt hearts; no one to accept them.

Permanently angry; only rejection.

JESUS CHRIST,

Hope. Healer.

Restorer. Rebuilder.

Lavishing love,

Joy giver,

Burden carrier.

Takes surrender,

and turns it into pure life.