It's Tuesday night. Sarah is sitting in my living room, talking with my daughter who just got stopped in, on her way home from work. It is 9 pm.
I am on the phone with my friend, another Sara. This one in Beaver Creek, one of my favorite places. Both Sara(h)s are friends of my daughter.
Yes, I have a daughter who connects me to amazing people.
We are talking Pacific Crest Trail hike and a way to raise money and awareness of women and children in slavery.
This girl, the one we have called Beyonce for years because, yes, she has a personality this big and because she aint scured of nothing.
I like that in a girl.
When she comes to town she searches me out and we talk, we laugh, we drink beer.
I love that she does this, because she doesn't have to.
I look forward to watching her life go forward. She's gonna be a game changer.
The Sarah on my couch and daughter are both social workers, fresh faced and ready to take on the world.
A difficult profession, one that can leave you feeling you can never quite catch up, like swimming up stream during a spring flood. Exhausted at the end of the day, but you've been treading water... not really swimming.
Sarah and Ali met volunteering at their church's student ministry. Wednesday nights bring a couple hundred inner city Nashville youth to Crosspoint. They play games, eat, sing... hear Truth. Truth that they are loved by this church and also Jesus Christ.
I'm giddy inside about this place.
Truth and transparency do that to me.
Sarah shared with Ali that she wasn't feeling well. She was worried. She seemed to know it was serious, even when others brushed her off.
Sarah was diagnosed with stage 4 Hodgkins disease. Sarah is twenty three years old.
This is where I meet Sarah. Sarah, the pixie faced, darling girl.
I imagine her mama raising her as a little girl, not much different than now, but for the ideas that spring from her, law school being next on her agenda.
She has a sweetness and insight you notice quickly. In one breath she beams the morning sun and in the next she shares a fear that reminds you, she is human, simply wanting to be done with this so she can go back to her life. Maybe marry some day, have babies, the picket fence.
What's wrong with that dream... nothing my sweet girl, nothing at all.
Sarah and I meet when she is at chemo. It's a long day for her. She smiles the whole time.
She sent me a message once that said, "I look different, I cut my hair." She had been worried it would fall out, as most do going through this treatment.
When I came around the corner I saw her in her chair, and her hair was darling. I asked who cut it. She pointed to her dad, whom I held my hand to greet for the first time.
He had a big smile and admitted he did it.
I thought I might cry... picturing this big guy taking scissors to his baby girls long locks, deciding how and where to start snipping.
The reason could not be lost on him, and how hard it would be, cutting your sweet girls crown of beauty. The end result was charming, curly locks and my eyes were wet.
Sara texted me one day telling me she had a really big favor to ask. I thought. "Oh no, it's time, someone actually wants that kidney."
She asked if I would take her to chemo. Um, hello, Lord yes! I felt honored that she would ask me. She stayed with me for a couple days after. We lounged, slept, ate and watched gobs of Friends, Modern Family and Gilmore Girls.
These Sara(h)s in my life... they remind me of my purpose. They point me to Be... this years word. If I am to Be, I must be available and willing. Open and honest, quiet, willing to listen and encourage. "Be Still And Know That I Am God." Psalm 46:10
I struggle to BE. I'd rather Do. Doing isn't always good for me. I'm like that chicken. You get the picture. I'm busy, I squawk a lot and stomp around. It's not pretty.
When I BE, I'm quiet, thoughtful, purposeful and present.
These Sara(h)s in my life... they point me to
the Biblical Sarah, who had a clear purpose and vision. She had courage and was a role model. She became the mother of a nation... even though she did not mother until her old age.
Nothing was impossible for Sarah, for God's hand was upon her.
The same will be true here.
I hope you have Sara(h)s in your life.
They make life rich.
They are wise women and I look at them and they give me hope.
Who gives you hope that you can share, encourage, be with?
They need you... and you need them.