Skip to main content


Showing posts from March, 2011

things i'm liking lately

1. soan papdi (but not the sugar headache that hits in 10 seconds flat) 2. red meat (I have no idea how this happened) 3. my iPhone that lets me video skype from anywhere 4. catching up on This American Life episodes on said phone 5. running (once I actually get outside, getting out there sometimes takes awhile) 6. Crossfit (yep, I'm a glutton for punishment) 7. being home 8. daffodils from Trader Joe's (part of my Sunday ritual)

arrested heart

Your sufferings have been the theme that has arrested and engages my heart - your sufferings no tongue can express; no language impart. ~ William Wilberforce, 1792 Motion for Abolition of Slavery
See what we are insisting upon; that the deeds of men are only discerned by the root of charity. For many things may be done that have a good appearance, and yet proceed not from the root of charity. For thorns also have flowers: some actions truly seem rough, seem savage; howbeit they are done for discipline at the bidding of charity. Once for all, then, a short precept is given thee: Love, and do what thou wilt : whether thou hold thy peace, through love hold thy peace; whether thou cry out, through love cry out; whether thou correct, through love correct; whether thou spare, through love do thou spare: let the root of love be within, of this root can nothing spring but what is good. ~ St. Augustine

boxing metaphor

Sometimes we need to be forced up against the ropes because when we're up against the ropes, we have a reason to fight. ~Andrew, Love146's Events Guy Extraordinaire from Liverpool

new job honeymoon

I'm very much in the honeymoon stage with my new job so I'll take you on the journey with me. Following is a smattering of the conversations had in and around the office this week which gives you a sense of how unique and quirky our crew is. You're doing Tough Mudder ? No way! My husband and I are doing a Mud Run; you should all join us! ~Nicole, excited to have another adventurer in-house The uterus is the center of all that is feminine. ~ Steve, explaining a women's lib series his wife is listening to Rob to Group: If you ordered Girl Scout cookies, they will be in Monday. Steve: Yes! Sarah to Steve: But Girl Scout cookies aren't vegan. Steve: Oh, bugger! I'll have to wait until my 30 day vegan cleanse is over. Steve to Group: My lunch is vegan chocolate cake. Sarah to Marilyn: What's wine doing on the table? Marilyn to Sarah: Oh, on Fridays someone usually makes a run to get wine for the office. New Haven is a key location in the abolition movement.


I began a new job yesterday at Love146 . It reminded me of so many other first days of school, of work, of ballet camp. Usually, as my family can attest, those first days were filled with tears and technicolor yawns. I remember a specific first day of ballet camp in Carlisle, PA where I was poised over a drainage grate, sick to my stomach. Thankfully, we can all laugh about that miserable moment now. Yesterday was graciously different. From the moment an elderly man yanked the front door open for me (I had already called our front desk, claiming I was locked out), I was welcomed and felt at home. We dove straight into scheduling projects on the communications calendar, reviewing the budget, and creating a media strategy. This kind of hands-on, immediately gratifying work is such an answer to prayer. And how cool to be working towards abolishing child sex slavery and exploitation? Perhaps the best part is the determination and laser focus my peers maintain on that mission. The

What Does Love Look Like?

I blogged about this song weeks ago but decided to write about it one more time because it's such a good song and it was part of my Patagonia experience. When I hike, I find songs repeating in my head so I try to fixate on the best songs that run across my mind. This song, "Arms Wide Open," was the song that stuck in my head the most (in a good way). On a particularly steep hike up to Campamento Britanico, in the rain, with a pack that was digging into my hips, thinking about all the recent and upcoming changes in my life, the refrain "What does love look like?" echoed around my mind followed by "then I saw Him there, hanging on a tree, looking at me" and I began to cry. The love of such a God that died for me is profound. I can't accurately describe what transpired on that hike, suffice to say I encountered God and emerged changed. His command that, "You shall love me with arms wide open, a heart exposed" hit me square in the ch

How I Got My Stove to Work

Random Travelnesses

"I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us." ~Ann Lamont, Traveling Mercies , 143 Leaving Buenos Aires for Santiago, I witnessed a man in purple pants, white polo with popped collar, white boating shoes, and purple ascot. This is where fashion is created! Entering Buenos Aires after Patagonia, I am convinced I saw a car bearing the following three decals: Rumi , Tommy Hilfiger, and Nouwen . I also learned where all our American cars are imported, witnessing the roads flooded with Chevys and Fords. Driving through Buenos Aires reminded me of driving through Mumbai with the European architecture, highways high above the streets, and tall, flowering trees. In my ongoing attempt to awaken the innocent Sarah within, I reasoned that the woman at the Subte (Argentinean metro) station who stiffed me ~$25 probably thought I'd given her a 10 pesos note rather than the 100 pesos note I rea

Patagonia, There I Was!

And, Buenos Aires, here I am where blogging is a much safer option than wandering the streets. Don´t worry, I´ll wander beyond the walls of my hostel eventually but I needed to recover after 29 hours of travel from my camping site in Patagonia to my hostel in Buenos Aires. And after seven days of solo trekking, the idea of being in a mega-city, 15MM people strong, is a little overwhelming. I´ll post pictures soon but here´s a snippet to whet your appetite. After three days of rain out of a total six days, I endured my tent until noon and then made a break for it, heading up towards La Mirador Britannica in the French Valley of Torres del Paine Parque Nacional. There was a steady drizzle, nay rain, coming down and I passed some folks a little too soon to be La Mirador so I continued the steep uphill slog, slipping, sliding, and crawling my way to some unknown, unmarked top. I set my sights on a saddle at the base of the backside of Torres Grande at the top of the French Valley. I