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The year of the church. I'm on the hunt for a family to settle into, and I am considering the way of the small church. One month per church to get the feel of it. 18 churches, 18 months. I'm excited. Who knows what August 2015 will look like.

I woke up at peace about church this morning - this is good because I was a bit teary about it in the car last night. I saw on Facebook this morning that Aimee and Deryn are getting baptized. I'm so happy for them! I wished that I could be there to witness it. And then I wished I could be there with my church friends again. It took me awhile with them. That church was just the right thing at the right time.

I have a danger now - will I be able to find just the right church this time? I can't find a Liverpool duplicate because my circumstances are different. Is there a right church in these circumstances? Will I find a group of like-minded people who are my age? Will I find mentors and older people who will look after my walk?

Or are Americans done with church? I have to say, I'm not a fan of what church morphed into. It's all Hollywood now. I suppose I missed that. We left a church just before it morphed into Hollywood. I suppose that means I'm supposed to be in smaller, less interesting churches. I don't mind that at all. If only I could find one without my heart breaking in the process.


I'm in my office - in the Llano house. I just read a post on Larson's website. They're all moving on. Two years ago, I was in and they wanted me in. They welcomed me in and were excited for my gift of horn! I had reached out and he was humbled enough to say 'yes, join us!'

But now they are big and I am still little. He plays all the brass now.

I feel like I have had a great loss. One of my dreams has been diminished and extinguished. Squashed down into a trash can by a great big foot.

Therefore I keep singing in my head, "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and its righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you." I think that is what I must do now, in this 27th season of my life.

It is a disappointment, just like not being married right now either. The world is in chaos - Supreme Courts and Wendy Davises, and crowds and crowds of people screaming their celebrations of the dismantling of life, standards, and order. Bring on the chaos. Bring on the sex. Bring on Death. We will gladly pay the wages for the Sin we enjoy now. Death death death.

What will happen tomorrow?

Everything is changing

Everything is changing

Google plus. Livejournal is a little different. I'm moving countries.

Had a beer and two glasses of wine tonight. Went to Liz's and Deryn made me dinner. We watched a part of Howl's Moving Castle, then switched to Groundhog Day when Liz came home. I am heavy with food and delight. I am content.

I may have convinced myself that Liverpool is the place for me to be. I don't know where I am to settle. Only God knows. I wish He would tell me.

The boy didn't call tonight. Suppressing the urge to believe he doesn't want me anymore. Sometimes people just don't want to talk. I need to chill out.

I need to chill out.

However, I am leaving my home for the past two years in about 3 weeks. I am far from chilled out.

Dear Old Man

Welp. Back to packing.

Life has met a strange stalemate.

I had made my peace about going home. I was making plans, preparing myself, and preparing my things. I had a vision that I was walking towards.

Then, June 4th started something new. I was curious and followed a thread. The boy asked me for a couple coffees. We bumped it up to a film and a meal. We agreed after two or three weeks that we were dating - come what may on August 5th. The following week we sealed the deal with a few kisses and a hang over the next day.

And now he's tender. Now he calls, and I call him as well. When we're out, he reaches for me. When we walk he puts his arm around me. We talk about food, routines, and sometimes our thoughts about God and life. I like his mind and when his humor is tickled. He has seen me play publicly, which was a nice return for the events I've gone to for him. This weekend I spent about 22 consecutive hours with him. This afternoon I am prickled inwardly: I want more time with him.

However, I'm leaving.

I'm leaving, and my vision is disrupted. I don't want to go, yet a part of me doesn't want to stay... it's already left for America. I don't want to enter life without this guy. And yet the two of us have an incredible problem of being from different countries. We realize it would be a huge deal if one of us were to move for the other. What do we do? We don't know.

Perhaps this is nothing. Perhaps we were two souls who met and gelled very easily. Perhaps we should enjoy these last three weeks and let this all go once I'm out of the country.

But I can't help but think or do some big things in my head. He makes dinner for me in his kitchen, and as I hug the feeling of familiarity and comfort, I imagine a ring on his left hand which signifies to the world that he will never be joined to another soul. Once, I imagined myself as his semi-vegetarian girlfriend. Now I imagine myself as his American wife (or he as my British husband). I pray dearly to God that he would work out all of the big problems in our relationship (namely, geographical distance and faith). He looks at me in between kisses and draws in a breath, and I wonder if this will be the moment he tells me he loves me. He hasn't though.

I could keep going. The films, the music, the tv we watch. All the stupid little things. He makes it all so much richer. And he likes me. He likes ME. He says me I'm beautiful. He strokes my face and hair. I fit nicely under his arms when we embrace. I could keep going in detail, but I should probably curtail the details here.

I don't know what to do. So I will do something concrete, and box up my possessions to send home. I will also make plans to see my friends more. I've given up time with them to be with him. I need to try and make things go back to how they were before this all happened. Nothing is different now. The only thing that's changed is that I have a man in my life. Soon, he won't be. It will be as it was before.

Is this Alan all over again?

I met a boy

I met a boy last August. He is tall and long. His hair is dark and his eyes strike me every time I see them for the first time that day. I liked it. I like him, still! He told me he liked me too.

He's hugged me a handful of times. He's given me other things - tangible and not - that are buried like treasure deep in my heart. And though I won't push him, I wanted more.

I'd like him to know that it would've been very special. Deep and meaningful. I'd like him to know that even though I'm not going to force it to happen, I wanted the deep and meaningful relationship. (Even though I'm scared of it.)

I'm writing to him now in the off chance that he still reads this 'blog'. If he doesn't read it, then maybe I'll write him a letter about all this - yes, a letter I can send when I've gone back home.

It's a bummer that I'm leaving. I would have liked to have seen how all of this would have played out.

If I ever get out of here

I need to lose 30 pounds.

That's over 2 stone, for you Brits.

However, I've been thinking: if and when I lose all that weight, will my problems be truly solved? Will I finally be happy with myself?

I think, probably not.

Therefore, I should be happy with myself now. Now!

Dad asked me last night, "Aren't you happy to be Sarah?" (He may have said, "Aren't you thankful to be Sarah?" I don't remember clearly since I was full of tears during that conversation.) His meaning in the question was more of a sense of whether or not my soul was happy to be placed in this body with certain circumstances and talents than how people generally mean that question to... mean. (oh dear... I can'tz rite.)

Yes, I am happy. I am happy to be Sarah, or to be in Sarah. I'm not really quite sure which one it is.

All day long my mind has been on church. Something didn't quite feel right today. I'll think more about it. Thinking is good.


Been a weird morning, and it's only a quarter past 8.

Liz sent me a text just a bit past 7 with the verse "It is impossible to please God without faith" (Hebrews something). And now I check facebook and find that Mary-Lu sent me a message about the note I wrote yesterday. I wrote a note on how we should pursue the joys of our hearts and not let things distract us, otherwise we would be unhappy. While others found it inspiring and positive, she said I sounded 'lost'.

Am I lost? To pokes this morning, are they both from God?

This will cause me to ponder most of the day away.

Do not be distracted

These things I go for in life... they are all vanity. And a chasing after the wind.

Look it up.

I'm tired. My perception and attitude needs changing. I asked God a few years ago when He would fix me. I'm still asking that question now.


I'm sorry if things sounded too harsh yesterday. I was tired, and it was the end of one of many long days this week.

Friday (no, Thursday? oh, yes, Friday) I went to Woody and Elen's for worship band practice. I like them. I like them as a couple and I like them as people. After a cup of tea (gosh, I love that that's what people do here - you get somewhere and have a cup of tea before you do ANYTHING) we dove into worship practice. I was on Woody's old keyboard Sam donated to them. It was good and we banged it all out soon enough. Afterwards, we had fun with the keyboard and chatted for awhile.

During the practice and afterwards, I feel a weird alignment. How can I explain? I can best put it as: I felt, in that room, as if I was aligned with Woody and Elen. It's that 'clicking into place' feeling you get with people. And although I contributed it mostly to worship, perhaps it was us clicking as people.

But yes... the music clicked. We all aligned into the same place. I haven't felt this doing worship with the girls. This is good. Church is going to be good today....

You know you really oughta

Get. Right. With. the Lord.

The Lord is frustrating sometimes. And yes, downright annoying as well. I hope that's not a too horrible thing to say. But He has to know that what He does sometimes can be found as annoying by us. He knows it.

But it's good that He does these things. He has His reasons. (I relinquish my annoyance and try to get back into the 'obey' mode.)

I could have shown up somewhere five minutes later. I could have caught the bus instead of taken the cab - that would have taken longer. The other party could have been completely on the other side of the city. And I would have been fine. I wouldn't have seen what I saw.

But if any of those things were true, then I would still be continuing on the same path, and I would still be keeping myself in blissful (/harmful) denial. But I saw what I saw, and it was good.

I can move on.

I should have gotten a move on a long time ago - especially after many painful and awkward attempts at not moving. God put up a wall, and I kept asking Him to keep it up. I asked for it because I trusted Him, and I really wanted to make things right this time. Things have been wrong for about 10 or 11 years. Things went really wrong three years and 11 days ago. That resulted in God sending me into the Wilderness for 40 years. Well, ok, in my lifetime it actually turned out to be 40 months. But same diff. (Wow, 40 years would be so depressing though. I would have been at least 62 years old before I would have gotten what I wanted. And even then it would have been a sliver of what I wanted in the first place.)

The first time things went wrong, I was 14.

Here's how the story goes:

I witnessed the tenor drum player (see: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4jTMe6jptI&feature=related for a reference) in our marching band suffer through the annoying bass clarinet girl trying to flirt with him. I can't remember if we were dating by that point, but if we were, I don't think my parents knew. For after I witnessed that I relayed my jealous feelings to my mom some days later, and she replied with, "Sarah, he's not your boyfriend."

It's the same now, and her words smacked me mentally tonight. Funny how God puts on the jumpsuit that is our memories and gives a good kick with His Holy Hobnail boots.

Anyways, rant over.

In other news:

I had a concert in Hoylake tonight. Concert program: some piece by Suk, some modern Adagio for Strings piece (composer was in the audience), Violin Concerto by Dvorak and Dvorak's 5th Symphony.

Originally, I was brought on board to be the bumper (assistant) for the principal players for the evening. But thanks to me being on my game for the one rehearsal that one of the principals wasn't at - I was promoted to principal on the Violin Concerto about 2 weeks before the concert was supposed to happen. I didn't find this out until Tuesday (four days ago). The last movement was in E. [Meaning I had to sightread and transpose loads of fast twiddly stuff.]

I wasn't even all that pleased about it. Change of staff right before a concert, and the guy who was doing it before had been in that position for weeks. He was really gracious and sweet about it. I miscounted a lot. He helped me stay in the right place.

Tonight, I arrived in Hoylake just before 7:00pm. I walked into the Chapel trying to clear my head for the concert I didn't feel too prepared for. Inside, I set my things down in the side room. As I was slowly trying to convince my body to take my horn out of its case, I made eye contact with one of the trumpet players who seemed to be crossing the room towards me. We said hello, and he asked if I was a regular player with the orchestra. I said no and that I was only around until the July concert. He said it was a shame. "The horn section gets a big boost when you're playing with them."


Completely unprompted. He just walked over and said it to me. I gawked and smiled and really tried to think of something to say. Humble? Nice? Grateful? Complimented? What is my response to be in these situations.

Sure did make me feel good though?

Totally unprompted.