tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201857092024-03-18T22:38:14.496-05:00girl in the parkJessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.comBlogger186125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-37291378718607710022020-08-23T07:09:00.000-05:002020-08-23T07:09:03.832-05:00“Ima” (The Prodigal’s Mother)<p> Birth is the only jubilant end</p><p>To one life being shared with another.</p><p>Not so joyous is the letting go that comes after.</p><p>No one told me what kind of empty I would feel in my chest</p><p>The first night he did not need me to soothe his cries.</p><p>Every lullaby was a prayer for peace</p><p>For hope, for restoration </p><p>For dreams of a future.</p><p>I held you to my chest and memorized your heartbeat.</p><p>I prepared meals as a benediction.</p><p>My heart danced to the music of your laughter.</p><p>The day you left, I felt the string of my souls tugged right between us</p><p>And I spent weeks humming lullabies.</p><p><br /></p><p>The story of your father will be told throughout history;</p><p>His jubilee at you return,</p><p>His fattened calf and celebration.</p><p>A father’s love is decided and uproarious,</p><p>But a mother...</p><p>Her prayers live in the secret place where you grew.</p><p>They are in every brush of her broom,</p><p>Every smooth of your hair,</p><p>Every deep longing she sighed in the night.</p><p><br /></p><p>I might live forever in the background of your story.</p><p>I might not be the one who ran to meet you on the road,</p><p>But please know, my love, I knew.</p><p>I knew because I heard all of my lullabies come back to me.</p><p>I felt your heartbeat in my chest.</p><p>Where there was once only empty ache,</p><p>I was dancing.</p>Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-44497297058881735762020-03-18T21:56:00.004-05:002020-03-18T21:56:53.437-05:00The Gospel of Wide Open Spaces<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 25px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 3px;">
<span style="font-size: 19px;">Imagine this:</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You spend most of your life in a cave of a dungeon.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Steel bars embedded in stone</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">A ramshackle cage.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You’re starved, pale, worn...</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">But you dream.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You dream of light and majesty.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You dream of more room.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You spin silent tales of rescue</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Of someone coming to save the day.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22.7px;">
<span class="s2"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Now, imagine this...</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">One day, they do.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">They open the door, scoop you up.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">They carry you away.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">They hold you in their arms, take you all in,</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">And smile.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Delight lights their face,</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">And you find yourself in the most beautiful valley</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Wide open space with mountain surround.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">None of your dungeon-dreams could even compare.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">But you’re still pale and work.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Weak from years of captive stillness.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You begin to fear</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Enemy mounts on the heights above</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Arrows poised in the shadow of the sun.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You tremble</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You try to catch sight of your cave</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You fret</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You buckle</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You know</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You know, you know, you know</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You aren’t fit for a life like this</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Majesty, light, open space.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You don’t deserve more room.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22.7px;">
<span class="s2"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">But, imagine this:</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">You feel their hand in yours</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">And they smile.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Delight lights their face.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Even with enemy on the heights</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">They prepare a banquet celebration.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">They lead you to your wide open space.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Blue sky above and soft grass beneath your feet.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22.7px;">
<span class="s2"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Now imagine this—</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Even as arrows whistle through the air all around,</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">Instead of retreat, you take their hand</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s2">And dance.</span></div>
Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-91524923221783079802019-06-06T09:12:00.000-05:002019-06-06T09:12:27.423-05:00Rescuer Part 2<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">In your blood, I found you.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">Worn and wasted away.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">You spent days and nights against the cold.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">You felt as though the sting of abandonment</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">Had pierced you through.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22.7px;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">My love, you know I spoke once to you,</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">“I make motion of the dead.”</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">Even in this movement, you turned your face from Me.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">You hid your cries as though I am the one Who drove you away.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">My love, I never locked the door.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">I left a fire burning.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">I left the light on for you</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">And waited up with bated breath.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22.7px;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">My love, you are my greatest treasure.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">My love for you crashes like ocean waves</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">And smolders as a fire’s warmth.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">My love, I knew all along.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">If you had come to me,</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">I would have broken over you </span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">I would have cleansed your wounds.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22.7px;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">The ways in which your heart has broken</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">The tears that graced your face</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">I know</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">I know</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">I know</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">And I will redeem them.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22.7px;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">I will make them the laughter that lights your face.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">I will give them purpose.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">I will make them glory to grace your head.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">I will make them strength in your hands</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">And swiftness in your feet.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22.7px;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">I will make you whole.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">I will make you a light in the darkness</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">A sharpened sword.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">I will make you a force to be reckoned with.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">And when you survey your power</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">You will see your name </span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">Carved into the palm of my hand.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">My love, in your blood I found you </span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText";">And with Mine, I will exalt you.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 22.7px;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 19pt;"></span><br /></div>
Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-81953943430431314732018-04-30T10:11:00.001-05:002018-04-30T10:11:10.008-05:00On AprilsTen years ago, I sat in the dining hall of a Christian camp. A man my father's age sat with me. It was April, and I had no idea... I had no idea how the next ten years of my life would be measured by this month.<br />
<br />
"You need to let him see who you are."<br /><br />It was the prophetic word from a man named Bob. It was the best advice I've ever been given. It was the key that started a journey.<br />
<br />
I was full of anxiety. I couldn't drive a car. I couldn't, for the life of me, pass a college math class. I froze up any time I had to speak in front of a group of more than five people. I hardly ate. I hardly slept. I had no idea who I was, and the me I was hiding had been hurt so many times, I didn't think it was worth exposing.<br /><br />I tried anyway.<br /><br />He was the most gentle boy I'd ever met. There was a safety there that I had never really known. He was the first person who asked me to take up space with no reservations and no conditions.<br />
<br />
By the next April, I was planning my wedding. I was graduating college. I was driving my own car.<br /><br />
Five years later, in the throes of infertility and emptiness, God saw fit to give me three new additions. Not by birth or adoption, but fruit nonetheless. Three incredible women, whom I have the privilege of calling friends.<br />
<br />
Two years later, in April, we found out we were expecting our first child-- long awaited Josiah, a little mess of a promise.<br /><br />
Three years have passed, and April is the month when we lost our next little possibility of life.<br /><br />Who knows what next April will hold?<br />Maybe life, maybe not. Definitely revision of some sort.<br />It seems that Aprils bring either death or resurrection for me.<br />All I know is that I can't hide from it.Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-72927124888362806122018-01-10T21:33:00.001-06:002018-01-10T21:33:40.986-06:00Let’s Go to Church<div style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Display"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">In 2017, I wrote a book.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">It’s not the book I thought I would write. I was on course to finish my third novel, In Terms of Liv by November. I was trucking along, I had over half of it written. The hashtag #metoo spread like wildfire, providing the perfect societal backdrop for a young adult novel about sexual assault. Then, I hit a brick wall. It was the most monumental case of writer’s block that I have ever experienced.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">For a month, I sat with fingers poised to finish the book, but nothing came.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">Then I met Emily Walker.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">Emily’s a lot like me when I was seventeen. Quirky, sweet, a little angsty, a little disenchanted with church culture and everything it seems to say about her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">She also has a problem that still plagues me— one that I didn’t know I had until I started writing a book about her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">Emily doesn’t like to take up space.</span></div>
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<div style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Display"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">She wears a lot of black. She wears headphones a lot. She stays out of people’s way, and doesn’t like to say how she feels— especially if it’s going to upset them.</span></div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Display"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 27.4px;">
<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Display"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">Writing this book about Emily was like seeing myself in a mirror.</span></div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Display"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 27.4px;">
<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Display"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">I’ve learned a lot from Emily. I’ve learned that making myself smaller is not admirable. It does not make me more lovable. It doesn’t enrich relationship.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Display"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">I’ve also learned that taking up space looks different all the time. Sometimes, it’s speaking. Sometimes, it’s being comfortable with silence. Sometimes, it’s stretching out in all the space someone’s got roped off for you. Sometimes, it’s kicking out windows and letting the rubble fall where it may. It’s not always gently unfolding into love and security. Sometimes, in order to take up space, something has to give or break or be destroyed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Display"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">So, I wrote a book in 2017. It’s a book about kicking out windows and taking up space and stepping into the light.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;">Emily’s a pretty cool girl. I can’t wait for you to meet her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".SFUIDisplay-Semibold"; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Palatino Linotype"; text-align: justify; text-indent: 35px;">“She was not unhappy. She knew nothing of the world except the tomb in which she dwelt, and had some pleasure in everything she did. But she desired, nevertheless, something more or different. She did not know what it was, and the nearest she could come to expressing it to herself was -- that she wanted more room.” - George MacDonald, “The Day Boy and the Night Girl”</span></div>
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Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-6582755119720017252017-07-26T13:52:00.003-05:002017-07-26T16:04:33.492-05:00On Superhero Capes<div style="color: #454545; font-family: '.SF UI Display'; font-size: 21px; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">There once was a girl who wore a superhero cape.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">It wasn't a fancy cape. A hodgepodge of florals and stripes, bold and tame. Fashioned from scraps found along her way, it gave her a super power.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">Superhuman strength... but not the kind that can stop bullets or lift cars clear above her head.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">The kind that can walk through fire.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">The kind that can silence storms and tame the wild.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">A few too many battles changed her mind. She didn't wield well this strength. She decided that the only way to survive was to use her superpower to protect herself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">Her heart turned to forged iron. It made her stand tall. Her cape changed from rags to shimmering light, and she thought she could fly. She used heavy stones to build a fortress. She flew to its highest turret and lived high above all of the people she knew. She was untouchable. She was unhurtable. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">She was strong.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">But this power was never meant to protect her. It was never meant to draw battle lines in a circle around herself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">People came from far and wide to see this heroine. She wandered the halls of her fortress, watching the people from her spire. But she could not touch them. She could not help them or love them or live among them, for her cape was only beautiful and her heart was only safe inside the stone walls.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">She grew dismayed, her iron heart rusting ever so slightly at the seams. She prayed each night that she would become strong again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">Her strength did not return. Rain began to fall each day. It eroded the mortar between the stones of her tower. She cursed the sky from which it came, and the God Who had seemingly not answered her prayers. Her cape turned slowly back to rags and her heart to flesh and blood.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">Our heroine awoke one day to find a bright sky and the sun shining warm.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">"Maybe, for one day, I could walk amongst the people. My fortress is no good anymore anyway."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">So, she ventured out with her cape made of scraps. She tried to lift the heaviest stone she could find, but she wasn't able. She tried to fly above the treetops to see the glorious view of the sky, but her feet hardly left the ground.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: '.SF UI Display'; line-height: normal; min-height: 25.1px;">
<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">"This old cape isn't worth anything," She said as she trudged back to her tower. She reached to untie the knot, just as a ragged stray dog stepped into the path before her. It limped and snarled all at once, warning her away. But, she knew it was badly hurt. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">"I just want to help you," she said, reaching out a cautious hand. "It's really no use trying to guard your wounds."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: '.SFUIDisplay-Semibold'; font-size: 21pt; font-weight: bold;">Slowly, the dog obliged. She wrapped it in her cape and cleaned it up. As she continued home, the dog followed, and she realized that even if she couldn't fly-- even if she didn't stand tall-- she could tame the wild again.</span></div>
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Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-31850556685720849332017-06-06T11:52:00.000-05:002017-06-06T11:55:57.012-05:00On Being OverdressedImagine a little girl, dark wispy hair, big gray eyes. She dances in a black velvet tutu across every part of her life. There is joy in the assuredness of knowing who she wants to be. More than anything, she wants to be a dancer-- a ballerina.
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At age 5, she's handed a shirt. It's been so long since then, she can't remember what color it was, but she knows she slipped it on over her tutu and tried to keep dancing. The shirt is too big on her, and it turns her graceful movements into lumbering steps. The big, block lettering scrawled across the front distracts her at first.
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"Big Boned" is all it says.
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Over the next few years, she is handed more and more shirts. She doesn't think to remove the previous ones, just keeps layering them up.<br />
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"I don't want to be your friend."
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"Cheeseburger."<br />
"If you don't like it, change it."
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Layer after layer, she just keeps dancing. But, to those around her, her dance looks more and more foolish as her movements are inhibited by her bulk. <br />
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At age 13, she stops trying to dance.
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She receives more shirts. Gifts from people who admire her from afar, but can't handle her when they get close. Identities that she silently dresses herself in.<br />
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"Unstable."
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"One emotional outcry after another."
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"Why are you like this?"
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"You're always having a bad day."
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"Why can't you just extend compassion like a normal human being?"
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For years, she buys clothes that are too big and too dark in hopes of appearing less. She wages war on her own body for its betrayal of her. She tries to see if wasting away will make her feel smaller.
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Those who know her well can see this. They hand her more shirts, trying to encourage her and remind her of who she really is.<br />
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"You're perfect the way you are."
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"You're beautiful."
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"You could never scare me away."
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"You're the smartest girl I know."
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But they are shirts, nonetheless. No matter how well intentioned, the words are still something she has to either prove false or prove true. Layer upon layer on a body that is already far too large.
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<br />
Things do change. They do get better. It's not the shirts those dear friends hand her that makes the difference. It's the fact that they believe what they're telling her, and they're still there. It's the new people she meets that can look past all of the layers to see that little girl with the big gray eyes who was made to dance. It's her Maker whispering in her ear...
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<br />
"No one else gets to say who you are. You are Mine."
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She doesn't know how many shirts she's put on over the years, but she knows that she has a choice to make. Sometimes, when she looks in the mirror, she sees grace and elegance flash across her reflection. She could spend her life peeling off and replacing layers of clothes and lies.<br />
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Or she could cut through it all and find that black velvet tutu again. <br />
The one with the satin ribbons and tiny pink rosebuds.Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-90037588446169894892017-04-30T22:16:00.000-05:002017-05-02T11:21:00.671-05:00On Barrenness<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://girl-in-the-park.blogspot.com/2012/07/fire-of-consecration.html" target="_blank">Only once</a> have I outright written anything about infertility. A few years ago, a friend of mine asked me if my five-year experience with it would ever work its way into my writing. I told her yes, but I didn't know if it was the right time. Even now, as my 17 month-old son sleeps in the next room, I still feel an ache from all of the struggle it took to get him here. I still feel like I don't quite fit into all of the "mommy culture" that having a kid throws you into, and I still struggle to put into words exactly why. In a lot of ways, infertility puts things into perspective. It helps you zoom out and see that there are things that are equally important to giving birth. There are even things that are more important.</div>
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This past week was National Infertility Awareness Week. 1 in 8 families are affected by infertility, whether it is life-long, secondary infertility, or in my case, a rather short experience by comparison. I'm not an authority on it, but I do have a story to tell. That story can be summed up in lessons I learned. I'm not going to tell you about my reproductive system, or my doctors visits, or the panic attack I had one time when I had to dig through my box of saved-up baby stuff so I could lend out my unopened and unused baby-monitor that someone asked to borrow. Instead, I'm going to tell you about what I've learned over the past seven years.</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Hope hurts, but it's what we were made to do.</span></b></div>
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This isn't just in the context of infertility. This is all day, everyday. There will never be a time in my life when I do not have to choose between hope and giving up. Hope is an engine. It's a propulsion system. It carries precious cargo. It's what pushes through the stuff that we think will bury us.</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes, there's nothing to run from, because there's nowhere to go.</span></b></div>
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I couldn't escape infertility. I couldn't escape watching almost every woman around me having baby after baby. I had to face it. I had to let it shape me, and in doing so, I met God in ways I never thought I could. I met Him in dark places... sprawled on the ground, as low as I could get, because I knew there was no way out.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I’ve been to the bottom, when everyone else has left and I was alone with my hurt in the silence. I’ve been at the place where I knew all the right theology but none of it reached me.<br />In this pit, I found a silence even deeper still. It was called honesty, and in that place, He was the only one there. I cried out, and to my surprise, so did He."<br />J. S. Park</blockquote>
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">There are more important things in life than having kids.</span></b></div>
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This is possibly one of the least popular beliefs that I hold. Maybe it's because I spent the "formative" years of my adult life childless and with no physical assurance that having children was even a possibility, but I do believe that there is life beyond parenting. I believe that I am an individual with gifts, skills, and abilities outside of motherhood. Having a baby is not the best thing that has ever happened to me. Only Jesus can take that cake. Being a mom is not the pinnacle of real love. There are so many ways to give and receive real, deep, fierce love outside of parenting a child. My kid is not my life. If I made my life entirely about him, I would be doing him a disservice. There's a big world out there with lots of hurting and broken people to care for.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Every time I thought I couldn't make it through, I did.</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The sun always came the next day. I was so much stronger than I believed. Every time I had the thought, "I can't do this.", I managed to do it. Once I realized this, things got a lot easier. I did not die of grief. I did not lose all of my value as a human being because I didn't have kids. I didn't get stuck in the quicksand. I put my hand to the plow, and I did what I had to do. I let myself feel, but I didn't just sit in it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There are things I will never say to a childless woman. Among them; </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Just relax, it will happen." </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"God's trying to teach you something." </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"You should just adopt." </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"You should be glad you don't have kids, because ______________" (You get to sleep in. You get to do whatever you want. You don't have to deal with the responsibility. Fill in the blank-- none of it is actually helpful.) There are, however, some things I will gladly say to any woman battling infertility. In fact, I'd say them to anyone fighting anything that feels too big and too hard and too heavy to navigate.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Embrace the process.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Don't lie to yourself.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Find out who you are.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Know who you want to be.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Don't be afraid to ask for help.</b></div>
<i></i><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<i>
</i>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Don't give up on your hardest day.</b></i></span></div>
Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-73092810292963317352017-01-31T16:12:00.000-06:002017-01-31T16:17:45.520-06:00HydrangeaMy child collects silk flower petals<br />
Carries them in his small chubby hands<br />
Places them in my palms<br />
And gasps as he watches me blow them away.<br />
<br />
Frantically, he gathers and carries,<br />
Watching for a chance<br />
To use what he holds.<br />
<br />
Today I saw him<br />
Find a chip in the paint of a wounded wall<br />
He pressed the petals to it with expectation<br />
<br />
And I saw a world where<br />
We carry hope<br />
And press it into the cracks of damaged hearts<br />
Until all we see<br />
Is a home<br />
Made of blooming life<br />
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Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-54086705672997835212016-12-29T11:59:00.002-06:002016-12-29T11:59:45.093-06:00On Living a Life of ProtestWhen I was in high school, I watched a Danny Glover movie called "Freedom Song." Set in Mississippi before the passing of the Voting Rights Act of 1965, it gave my 17 year-old self a powerful (if not slightly naive') look into the Civil Rights movement, planting the seed that would eventually grow into my flight toward my current life.<br />
<br />
There is one scene in particular where the activists decided that they would forego their usual drugstore sit-in for a different kind of protest. Person after person, both black and white, knelt one at a time on the steps of City Hall, praying The Lord's Prayer. I remember weeping as I watched this and heard "Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven." I recited The Lord's Prayer every day at school when I was a kid, but this was the first time I had ever connected a fight against injustice as God's Kingdom coming to earth-- the first time I was emotionally affected by the fact that such injustice very much still exists today.<br />
<br />
These sorts of protest have always tugged at me. This idea of taking a stand in order to scatter little shards that reflect the Kingdom coming. There is something about this beautiful, hard resistance toward unrighteousness that I can't tear my spirit away from.<br />
<br />
I've been silently watching the world of protest over the last six months or so. People being labeled as rebellious, whiners, and criminals. People being brutalized and threatened and hated. Truly, that's the life of a protester. It's the life of a social disrupter. What really astounds me, though, is how often the people disparaging protesters are people who claim to follow Christ.<br />
<br />
I don't feel like it should be necessary to remind anyone that Jesus was one of the greatest social disrupters in history, but here we are.<br />
<br />
He touched the untouchable.<br />
He crossed racial and cultural lines.<br />
He healed on the sabbath.<br />
He wasn't concerned with his social standing.<br />
He opposed the ruling religious system.<br />
He held His arms wide to the outcast, to women, to children, to the poor, to the forgotten and judged.<br />
<br />
He might not have stood in any picket lines or chained himself to any wrecking balls. He might not have made clever signs or organized public protests. But He lived protest, and He died protest, and if we say we want to follow Him, not only is this the Jesus we come to... this is the life we sign up for.<br />
<br />
<br />
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Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-11903109451423154152016-11-08T20:41:00.000-06:002016-11-08T20:45:00.214-06:00To My "Token" Gay FriendDear friend, I want to apologize.<br />
<br />
I'm new at this. I might be almost thirty years-old. It might have been a long time coming, but I'm new at this. My life has not been a reflection of welcome diversity. I haven't always practiced well the art of meeting people with grace.<br />
<br />
The first time I found out one of my friends was gay, I was 13. Growing up in a Christian home, private school, and being homeschooled had done a really good job of dictating who I was friends with, and who I never even had the chance to befriend. So much so that I almost didn't believe it when I found out. It felt like the ground shifted under me.<br />
<br />
Fast forward a couple of years to a Christian homeschool co-op where the moms in charge were banishing a family because their daughter had just come out as bisexual. I sat back silently while the other kids made fun of her and my heart tried to claw out of my chest screaming, "How is this supposed to help anything?!" The ground beneath me shifted again, but this time it felt like it was shifting in the opposite direction. Weren't we supposed to love people? Even if they were "living in sin," how would excluding them like this help us minister to them? How could these people make jokes out of this sort of thing?<br />
<br />
Then there was college. I opted out of the Christian college track after my senior year had shaken my foundation a bit. I was becoming a bit disenchanted by the run-of-the-mill conservative Christian bubble I'd spent eighteen years in. I enrolled in the local community college hoping to branch out a little, and met so many different new people, each one of them tweaking how I viewed the world just a little. The members of the LGBTQ community that I met were some of the most influential-- from the Irish Literature professor who encouraged me to stick with writing because I was "just too smart not to," to my creative writing classmate who, nearly in tears, told me I had to finish my first novel because it was "just so... important."<br />
<br />
Two. I met two openly LGBTQ people in the first eighteen years of my life. In college, I had to really make peace with what I learned, and friendship after friendship since has taught me more and more what love really means. I say all of this, not to make excuses for myself, but to let you know why.<br />
<br />
And, I'm sorry.<br />
<br />
I'm sorry for every time I referenced your legal spouse as your partner, because I was afraid of what people might think of me.<br />
<br />
I'm sorry for every time I made you feel like a project instead of a person.<br />
<br />
I'm sorry for every gay joke I walked past.<br />
<br />
I'm sorry for every time I preserved my own reputation at the expense of yours.<br />
<br />
For every time I ignored my own heart as it tried to voice what your heart needed to hear most-- that you're way more than my token gay friend.<br />
<br />
You are my friend.<br />
<br />
It's taken a long time for me to stop believing in the concept of "token" friends. I don't believe in contrived relationship. I believe in meeting people as they come to you. I believe in seeing people for who they are.<br />
<br />
I believe in stretching my arms as wide as they'll open, and working on my muscles so they can open even more.<br />
<br />
And I believe with all my heart that the most gap-bridging, selfishness-challenging, wound-healing thing I can learn to say is "I love you."<br />
<br />
I love you, I'm sorry, and I'm trying.Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-45384593221510031042016-11-06T11:59:00.002-06:002016-11-06T11:59:26.533-06:00On Being ErasedI joke a lot about how I can't say certain things because I "have a reputation to uphold." The people who know me best know that I'm kind of like an iceberg-- what you see is usually only a small fraction of who I am. This isn't an egotistical statement. It's more of a confession. I've always been a quiet, private person. It takes a lot for me to warm up to new people, and if I sense that there are things about me that might offend, alienate, or hurt other people, I generally just won't express them around those people.<br />
<br />
I feel uncomfortable talking about social issues with people who are conservative, because I know that what I have to say-- though seasoned with deep conviction and experiences in a very broken and desolate place-- will offend them and possibly make them write me off as just another "bleeding heart liberal."<br />
<br />
I feel deep guilt every time I mention my son to friends who struggle with infertility, because I don't know why God gave me a child instead of them, and I've been on that side of the conversation where I had no control over my own grief-reaction to someone else's joy.<br />
<br />
I so often hesitate to speak about my journey away from the traditional church structure, because I know so many people who are heavily invested in it, and I don't want them to think that I'm accusing them of being bad people or loving God less than I do.<br />
<br />
I think a lot of things I don't say. I value the art of thinking before talking... to a fault. No one wins at this game, though. When I withhold important thoughts and values because I don't want to strain relationships or estrange people I care about, it doesn't keep peace. It doesn't spare feelings. It doesn't even really uphold my reputation. All it actually does is compartmentalize. It takes away my voice. It erases me. It erases me, and I've come to a point where I'm not really willing to be erased anymore.<br />
<br />
The whole point of this, I guess, is to say that my writing might look a little different from now on. You'll be seeing a fuller picture of who I am and what I feel, and I'm sorry if it is different from what I've led you to believe. I hope you stick around.Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-15129393016667587172016-07-21T10:51:00.000-05:002016-07-21T10:51:13.005-05:00White Noise<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
"Thank God my son is white."</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Is not a phrase anyone wants to utter.</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
But, God forgive me, I have.</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
In the back of my mind</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Under my breath</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Sitting in front of the television</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
As I watch another black man killed</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
While the only right of his we defend</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Is the right to remain silent.</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Two nights ago, I dreamt of a black mother</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Handing me photo after photo of her lost children</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Pictures drawn in ragged crayon</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Love letters written by innocent little hands</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
All I could do was weep</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
As she begged me</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
"Please, tell their stories."</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
But, God forgive me. </div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
I must confess, </div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
I'm afraid of what they'll say.</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
These children grow up</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
We give them school supplies</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Food for Thanksgiving </div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Coats for the winter</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
We convince ourselves that our benevolence carries them</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
That we are doing God's work</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
That we are building a better future for the poor</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Until they no longer look innocent to us.</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Until they're criminals for wanting simply to survive.</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
These men are full of grit</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Mistaken for grime.</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
"Thug" "animal" "up to no good"</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
This rhetoric might as well be handfuls of dirt</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Thrown on top of their caskets</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Brothers and sisters, this place has seen far too many graves</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Dug by our idle hands</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
And as the saying goes, Idle hands </div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Are the handiwork of the devil.</div>
<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 19px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<br /></div>
Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-88345127006444268902016-02-26T10:12:00.001-06:002016-02-26T10:12:59.975-06:00RescuerIn your blood, I found you<div>Your prayers carved into your skin</div><div>Like messages in ancient dwellings.</div><div>I carried you home.</div><div>I bound up your wounds.</div><div>Laughter sparked new the light in your eyes.</div><div>My heart was as healing salve.</div><div>I gave purpose to your scars</div><div>I showed you Mine,</div><div>But you did not believe Me.</div><div><br></div><div>Every kiss from Me singed memory alive.</div><div>My love, do not mark yourself for the dead.</div><div>My love, I make all things live.</div><div>You fled where you thought I could not see,</div><div>But I would go the whole earth to bring you home.</div><div>You found new lovers</div><div>You showed each one your scars,</div><div>And each of them fled as you did from Me.</div><div>My love, I would have fought them if you asked--</div><div>Bound up your wounds again,</div><div>Carried you home and healed you.</div><div>My love, I did not let you go.</div><div><br></div><div>In your blood, I found you</div><div>Your lips too parched for prayers</div><div>You were shivering and cold, leaning on the door post</div><div>As though I wouldn't let you in.</div><div>My love, do not be afraid.</div><div>My love, I make motion of the dead.</div><div><br></div><div>My love, I never locked the door.</div>Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-59781472221792230472015-08-10T14:51:00.001-05:002015-08-10T14:51:00.543-05:0011 Things I Want My Son to Know<div><span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I've read so many blog entries like this over the years. Most of them are much longer than 11, but I'm a woman of few words. </span></div><div><span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></span></div><div><span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">It's been a long, hard journey getting to this point, and as I type this and the little wiggle worm is flopping around like crazy inside of me, I am sobered and brought low. So many years spent thinking that this would never happen-- that there was something very wrong with me. That I would spend my entire life in limbo, never being able to be what I truly believe I was made to be. All of that, only to be proven wrong. And it is so good.</span></div><div><span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></span></div><div><span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I'll just cut to the chase now.</span></div><span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><div><span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></span></div><div><span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Dear Little Mister Josiah,</span></div><div><br></div>1) As a white American male, born to educated parents, with all of your needs met, you are one of the most privileged people in the world. Recognize it. Lay it down. Be the voice for the voiceless. You cannot both indulge in your privilege and help those who do not have it.</span><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">2) Your life will be filled with people who are vastly different from you. We're doing this on purpose. Someone looking, believing, acting, or living differently does not give you an excuse to not love. There is never an excuse for not loving-- for not engaging.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">3) Chivalry is not sexism-- unless she says no. Being a gentleman can mean carrying heavy things and holding doors open, but it can also mean recognizing and empowering independence in the women around you.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">4) Jesus is very real to me. Obviously, you are free to make your own decisions about this, but I feel like I should tell you because it's something I have a really hard time shutting up about. Your father is worse than I am. Just know that it isn't something we have come to by means of ignorance or indoctrination, but by means of true experience and real transformation. This is the only real way to "find religion."</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">5) Your father hates it when the sink is completely full of dishes, and your mother hates it when dishes aren't rinsed. I'm just warning you. Use the countertop. Rinse the stinkin' dishes after you're done.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">6) Knowing who you are is one of the most powerful, intimidating, and irritating things you can do. Do it boldly.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">7) Women do not owe you anything for being nice to them.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">8) Wealth does not equal success, and it certainly doesn't equal integrity. Poverty does not equal laziness, nor does it determine someone's character.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">9) Your name means something. It means something big. Own it.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">10) No matter what you do or who you become, there is always a place for you in my heart and in my home. This is not cliche'. I mean this with everything that I am.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">11) I waited for you for a very long time. I named you before I really, truly believed that you would come. I prayed for you everyday for years. I cannot put into words how fierce my love for you is. Never doubt this, even if I screw up. Even if I say the wrong thing or treat you the wrong way. Just know... You are my hallelujah. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">- Mama</div>Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-32275014080964350122015-01-22T09:00:00.000-06:002015-01-22T09:00:35.097-06:00Cookbook
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My friend, please remember how I've
loved you.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Not like art, not like a storm.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Not unrequited. Not exactly like that.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Like... our friendship is one of my
favorite recipes.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It is full of metaphor.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It compounds flavors and creates
something new.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Like... my giggles would draw shy
smiles from you.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Like... your quiet kindness would
reduce me till only I was left.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Open the cookbook</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Find the page</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Complete with color photograph and a
short introduction
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Of how perfect this is for just the
right season.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Gather your ingredients</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
(Some of my favorites are as follows:)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You would sing to me</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love songs, weird songs,
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Songs about heaven and your heart</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You'd sing just to get a smile out of
me</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You were the hero in my scars</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You were my best friend</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The first to tell me I'm worth more</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The first to make me feel as beautiful
as you believed me to be</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The first to fight for me
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
To cross battle lines that were
actually a circle
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'd drawn tightly around myself.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When you were seventeen, you told me
that I saved you from yourself</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I never told you, angel,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You're the one who changed me
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You're the one who unfolded me</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You're the one who saved me or</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Maybe, it's just love that transforms.</div>
Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-81297975997178353882014-10-26T17:31:00.003-05:002014-10-26T17:31:49.347-05:00DaughterI know there are days when you can't look in the mirror<br />
For fear of the outside seeping in.<br />
But, I need you to believe something.<br />
I need you to believe that you are one of the most beautiful dancers I've ever seen.<br />
You are <i>not </i>too much.<br />
You <i>are </i>enough.<br />
I need you to believe that you cannot dance well unless you can inspect your own form.<br />
If you never look in that mirror, you'll never see what I see...<br />
<br />
That dance is more than slender movement.<br />
It is bearing pain in grace.<br />
It is moving forward<br />
Over and over and over<br />
Until there is beauty.<br />
<br />
I need you to believe that, because you dance.<br />
Every day.<br />
You are a masterpiece of strength<br />
A movement, dynamic in its message.<br />
<br />
Little ballerina, don't hate what I've created in you.<br />
Dance like you did once<br />
In a black velvet tutu.<br />
<i><b>I was your only audience.</b></i><br />
Dance like that.<br />
Look in the mirror.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">It's one of My favorite memories of you.</span></i>Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-87825166757431208712014-06-08T15:22:00.000-05:002014-06-08T15:26:29.164-05:00The Depths of God"When you can't touch bottom, you touch the depths of God" - Ann Voskamp<br />
<br />
I've spent a lot of the last five years treading water. Who am I kidding? I feel like the majority of my life has been spent treading water. Whether it was trying to muddle my way through college into a life calling that seemed impossible to my deception-addled brain, or simply trying to stay afloat amidst barrenness, juxtaposed with an undeniable desire for children, or long seasons of hard work doing things I don't like to do, and that I'm not necessarily good at...<br />
<br />
I can't quite say that my feet have touched bottom at all in the last five years. I can't say that there haven't been times where all I wanted to do was stop treading... stop moving... stop hoping.<br />
<br />
In my perception, what happens when my feet don't touch bottom is that I am losing control. I am going to drown and die, and all this treading water will have been in vain, because I will never have reached my destination, or worse, I will die, when I know-- I <i><b>know</b></i>-- that God had the power to rescue me from drowning.<br />
<br />
What's really going on in those moments, when I'm about ready to stop treading water. When my feet can't touch bottom, and I panic because I can't get them planted firmly on solid ground. When instead of swimming, I'm flailing and losing it. What's really going on is I'm learning the depths of God. I'm experiencing the part of His Spirit that takes over when I can't do anymore. I'm learning that in the absence of <i><b>my</b></i> ability, <i><b>His</b></i> is all consuming. I will not die before reaching my destination, because this process of treading and treading is exactly where I am meant to be. I will not die without rescue, because daily, I am rescued from my own panic and fear.<br />
<br />
"Now God has revealed these things to us by the Spirit, for the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God..." 1 Corinthians 2:10<br />
<br />
If it is the Holy Spirit that searches the depths of God, then I have nothing to fear. When I panic, when I lose hope, when I run out of words to pray or even scream at the heart of God, I have nothing to fear, because it is this same Spirit that both searches the depths of God ans intercedes on my behalf with prayers that are too deep for words... prayers that are straight from-- and to-- the depths of God.<br />
<br />
"And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don't know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words." - Romans 8:26Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-81113660671049104022013-07-21T21:17:00.003-05:002013-07-21T21:17:50.166-05:00To Princess EllaDear Ella,<br />
<br />
Oh, Princess... what can I say? You have been my Little Princess since before I ever even laid eyes on you. Nothing's changed. You still hold such a special place in my heart.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR0-MkogWSzpr4tofllnD8HDiOxehOAoSUT3oTVD_lIZ_-POjRz93SnC_RxAyHZiWZ8Z4SxXK3PQtFXkJFds5F4koBGLaDvf4Ajr0zaEjHJYNX_y8Bs2UAqmYzzNXF8a2Et1LdIg/s1600/223188_10150261655392705_1554486_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR0-MkogWSzpr4tofllnD8HDiOxehOAoSUT3oTVD_lIZ_-POjRz93SnC_RxAyHZiWZ8Z4SxXK3PQtFXkJFds5F4koBGLaDvf4Ajr0zaEjHJYNX_y8Bs2UAqmYzzNXF8a2Et1LdIg/s320/223188_10150261655392705_1554486_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
You are such a bright spot in my life, Ella. Your smile and laugh and absolutely dynamic spirit have changed me. You keep me young. You pull me out of myself. When I have needed a reminder that this world has good in it, you waltz in, talking absolute gibberish, shrugging your shoulders, smiling at everyone, and absolutely living up to your name-- Ella... Bright Torch. That is exactly what you are.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYCS04_LANm-DL8Ko8baiYixFRlSgwNwleB2qagkJpr57O2JDITnnAD1n5eF2vUvIo98A52VoC3P0yjl7U2cS8SXYxW0RRK5QN5xyRqcaYlgNG1p7ur-VLA47ESoIO0IiBoAgPwA/s1600/320558_10150307576212705_1941242228_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYCS04_LANm-DL8Ko8baiYixFRlSgwNwleB2qagkJpr57O2JDITnnAD1n5eF2vUvIo98A52VoC3P0yjl7U2cS8SXYxW0RRK5QN5xyRqcaYlgNG1p7ur-VLA47ESoIO0IiBoAgPwA/s200/320558_10150307576212705_1941242228_n.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinMwlno1JtsDrsJapWlm5fqJufnLPL5x_kXn9hEWMyJjq-ZU2RXAf3ga4iMWt6r1OAri8jCCnorId4JN0PrCnA-WwBB41RXqMHtoIMYxo9ddJlFYgEqO9XBxTyE1WzRRuEQXNozw/s1600/314899_10150356669472705_551190445_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinMwlno1JtsDrsJapWlm5fqJufnLPL5x_kXn9hEWMyJjq-ZU2RXAf3ga4iMWt6r1OAri8jCCnorId4JN0PrCnA-WwBB41RXqMHtoIMYxo9ddJlFYgEqO9XBxTyE1WzRRuEQXNozw/s200/314899_10150356669472705_551190445_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_HQueehz7OVm6X6Qp7QPw82NLXvr7iqnkIofzV1Z1K6xHdXOrCdHW0pw48cJrTuEUntCV8lhS4-TwYO2opel0DwB2Q1aEts1lc8g239egklBob49qQKDbGOuCWd0EdEwG6Ha9Kg/s1600/377786_10150493220152705_1157195036_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_HQueehz7OVm6X6Qp7QPw82NLXvr7iqnkIofzV1Z1K6xHdXOrCdHW0pw48cJrTuEUntCV8lhS4-TwYO2opel0DwB2Q1aEts1lc8g239egklBob49qQKDbGOuCWd0EdEwG6Ha9Kg/s200/377786_10150493220152705_1157195036_n.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQkEA0SQr4TdHIXMrGMSicrcBjRb_Na6FhdWIyXHufS8TPdQ6IZFpGkJqJ6sQpa9sB0HxkY1zNpjKV8SCFVZofNyneHR9s3amEiVMNAL1B97s2qsiuig4xI6WPBJ8YiwkxsUgfhA/s1600/424298_4267662940783_184067031_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQkEA0SQr4TdHIXMrGMSicrcBjRb_Na6FhdWIyXHufS8TPdQ6IZFpGkJqJ6sQpa9sB0HxkY1zNpjKV8SCFVZofNyneHR9s3amEiVMNAL1B97s2qsiuig4xI6WPBJ8YiwkxsUgfhA/s200/424298_4267662940783_184067031_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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I wanted to write you a special little message on your birthday today. I want to remind you that I love you so very much. I also want to tell you that my love for you will never change, and that you are a very strong, very special girl. I cannot wait to see who you grow up to be, my Princess Ella Jelly Bean.<br />
<br />
Love always,<br />
Aunt Kessi<br />
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PS- Never ever feel left out because you don't have a "fancy" princess name like all of your cousins. It only seems that way because you were the original Princess. Princess Ella.<br />
<br />
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<br />Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-1859495197404049822013-07-07T14:15:00.002-05:002013-07-07T14:15:28.696-05:00To My Slurpee Girl<span style="color: purple;">Dear Madelyn (a.k.a.: Princess Slurpee Munchkin Head)</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: purple;">The day you were born began, for me, with enthusiasm, closely followed by the sound of metal bending into metal and the smell of airbag dust ingrained into my memory. Everything, it seemed, was trying to keep me from meeting you. But, we made it!</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV3ZTJhSUtWQih9QGJMvi5AfQ917ade_DoD5of-XjJixhxUkLatw88c1AkfoEDKF8yKU6vkE4vUHsEBXV8CvlJ-oci-0SBDQG1cjR-lWIhaycMgIwRqvrhI1Zlo6ZGayIpZV5vrA/s1600/Slurpee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: purple;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV3ZTJhSUtWQih9QGJMvi5AfQ917ade_DoD5of-XjJixhxUkLatw88c1AkfoEDKF8yKU6vkE4vUHsEBXV8CvlJ-oci-0SBDQG1cjR-lWIhaycMgIwRqvrhI1Zlo6ZGayIpZV5vrA/s320/Slurpee.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">When I saw you, I knew it for sure, and I told you-- "We're going to be good friends."</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Fb_3kCPVtMk4u8RGzILjfJRts0VQtMM75f_yEHOiDEnyOka0jvjPkriLiX0_4Pfn7EYUusYaFK8BirDFC1eL_eUNBxdU88G1dvZjd9MyuiVoDPNm0fh1IDQKfZwkd5dFVBNUHw/s1600/Slurpee2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: purple;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Fb_3kCPVtMk4u8RGzILjfJRts0VQtMM75f_yEHOiDEnyOka0jvjPkriLiX0_4Pfn7EYUusYaFK8BirDFC1eL_eUNBxdU88G1dvZjd9MyuiVoDPNm0fh1IDQKfZwkd5dFVBNUHw/s320/Slurpee2.jpg" width="191" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">And we have been, little one. Everyday, I see in you glimpses of the woman you will one day become. I see in you a sensitivity and compassion that far exceeds the kind I have seen even in mature adults. I see curiosity, and passion, and love, and intelligence. Slurpee, you are, indeed, so full of everything.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMjSTzeXVFiujN0ULEGkmKYIHVwPe4ITlYzUb9vPTCDnkhoKvGmAMZ0ljwpCKcYhOTA9itsyNvSyS2sO0yVLFu8CPvMCgAYx5RGGhR5pHbUiAAn_wOjv7mzFlK5yyYZDa_VXw3YA/s1600/iOS+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMjSTzeXVFiujN0ULEGkmKYIHVwPe4ITlYzUb9vPTCDnkhoKvGmAMZ0ljwpCKcYhOTA9itsyNvSyS2sO0yVLFu8CPvMCgAYx5RGGhR5pHbUiAAn_wOjv7mzFlK5yyYZDa_VXw3YA/s320/iOS+008.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVBkcKIbo-UReqJ23d0KuJAOtgN8PHtRjgnfG2u_NWVigiKyrBoBsG0bWg9op5wnK8hhrS6tSD1x2UdA0tJXz6BdPqMA0wXhRxt-GQJphMvFuBwYWd8kCmhVwzziT3H-ujYVpjw/s1600/iOS+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVBkcKIbo-UReqJ23d0KuJAOtgN8PHtRjgnfG2u_NWVigiKyrBoBsG0bWg9op5wnK8hhrS6tSD1x2UdA0tJXz6BdPqMA0wXhRxt-GQJphMvFuBwYWd8kCmhVwzziT3H-ujYVpjw/s320/iOS+004.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitfLW17e5V7-biUBjic0v2z_FFv0gqApY2GvxHbJk-m2JwnvwpA4LdzdqoMoLAeYfumbBsoTY_RKWS7f2_u3SGFxk2Sq47aArBuGrty7WAxxw68YgfYPvjpZH61bMCFmeNnrhe5w/s1600/iOS+022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitfLW17e5V7-biUBjic0v2z_FFv0gqApY2GvxHbJk-m2JwnvwpA4LdzdqoMoLAeYfumbBsoTY_RKWS7f2_u3SGFxk2Sq47aArBuGrty7WAxxw68YgfYPvjpZH61bMCFmeNnrhe5w/s320/iOS+022.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjocre-HQ_YSvNmrtYU-NG-pJPuEsQvbTImSKbzXtYKFh2hXwCJWh_X45Rb4p9rsUc4GRlNdCtIUCWjoE6WNTnd34Re0P2D4S869OtbE9NX8VgVYhHbLgo_gQHH5QiusWyPBfvRkQ/s1600/iOS+028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjocre-HQ_YSvNmrtYU-NG-pJPuEsQvbTImSKbzXtYKFh2hXwCJWh_X45Rb4p9rsUc4GRlNdCtIUCWjoE6WNTnd34Re0P2D4S869OtbE9NX8VgVYhHbLgo_gQHH5QiusWyPBfvRkQ/s320/iOS+028.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">So today, as you turn the big number two-- even though you can't read this yet-- I want you to remember two things today, on your second birthday.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="color: purple;">Number One: Never forget that you are a princess. You can be a sad princess, a happy princess, a serious princess, a goofy princess... whatever kind of princess you have to be, but never forget that you are royalty.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: purple;">Number Two: Never forget that you are loved for who you are. You might grow up to do incredible things, you might decide to be a technological genius who designs smartphones (let's be real here... that's a good possibility.), you might become a pilot (it's not technically "holding" planes, but it's as close as you'll ever get), or a paleontologist (dinosaurs, 'nuff said)... but, whatever you decide to do, remember that I love you because you are Madelyn. Princess Slurpee Munchkin Head.</span></b><br />
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<span style="color: purple;">I will love you forever and ever,</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">Aunt Kessi</span><br />
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<br />Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-24195867967876323152013-05-09T12:38:00.000-05:002013-05-09T12:38:02.873-05:00Today, He whispered in my ear<br />
Cut through the crap<br />
Untied all my knots:<br />
Yesterday is over- unchangeable.<br />
Tomorrow isn't even here yet.<br />
Today.<br />
I only have today.<br />
Today, He loves me.<br />
Today, He is <i>good</i>.Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-82575043589758693302013-04-02T19:48:00.000-05:002013-04-02T19:48:18.722-05:00Timeline of a PrisonerI was six years-old the first time I was called "fat" on the playground. Technically, it was "hamburger," but I've never really been one to mince words.<br />
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I was 7 years-old the first time I heard someone tell me, "I don't want to be your friend anymore." The first time my being a "hamburger" excluded me from being in their club, going to their party, being <u>seen</u> with them.<br />
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I was 9 years-old when I first thought that maybe... just maybe... <u>food</u> could be my enemy.<br />
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I was 11 years-old the first time I realized that I could <u>decide</u> to be happy.<br />
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12 years-old when I found out I could be strong if I needed.<br />
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I was 13 years-old when I had to tell my parents that my grandfather had molested my baby sister.<br />
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13 when I decided that "strong" was all I would allow myself to be.<br />
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13 the first day that I decided not to eat.<br />
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13 when God took me to Isaiah 51 and told me "The cowering prisoner will soon be set free. They will not die in their dungeon..." 13 when I just barely knew what that meant.<br />
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I was 14 when I had my first "love," and subsequently my first heart break.<br />
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I was 14 when I moved from my first real home.<br />
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I was 15 the first time I cut myself with a kitchen knife. 15 the first, second, third, fourth, fifth time I swore I would stop.<br />
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I was 16 the first time I told someone "I think I'm going crazy." 16 the first time they looked at me and said, "No... you're just fighting a battle, and you're going at it the wrong way."<br />
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I was 17 the last time my pain left a visible scar. 17 when I started killing myself slowly. 17 when I was "90 pounds down, only 25 to go." 17 when I couldn't possibly be good enough.<br />
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I was 18 years old when I decided I preferred caffeine and pain killers over sleep and food.<br />
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19 when all of my mental plans to marry that one guy fell through.<br />
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19 when I wept and cursed the number 14, because it was on all of my jeans again and if I could just be skin and bones then maybe I could finally disappear.<br />
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I was 20 years-old when I really met up with God again, this time in the conference room of a Days Inn.<br />
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20 when I finally forgave.<br />
20 when I was healed... OCD, Depression, Eating Disorder, my broken and beaten and starved-for-love heart.<br />
20 when this cowering prisoner was finally set free.<br />
<br />
<br />Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-86016326130512661992013-03-23T22:32:00.000-05:002013-03-23T22:32:05.125-05:00Medley<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before there were days, there were nights I could not see Your face. But the night couldn't keep me from grace.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remember the moment , I remember the pain. I was only a girl, but I grew up that day. Tears were falling. I know You saw me hiding there in my bedroom, so alone. I was doing my best, trying to be strong.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You saw my mistakes, You watched my heart break... heard when I swore I would never love again. And when I was weak, unable to speak, still I could call You by name, and I said...</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #d9d2e9;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">I do not want to be afraid</span><br style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">I do not want to die inside just to breathe in</span><br style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">I'm tired of feeling so numb</span><br style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">Relief exists. I find it when</span><br style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">I am cut</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How did I get locked up inside? What's this that renders me paralyzed? I lost myself in small pieces. It happened over time. I traded love for a heavy chain. Another link every other day.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are ghosts from my past who own more of my soul than I thought I had given away. They linger on closets and under my bed and in pictures less proudly displayed. A great fool in my life I have been, have squandered till pallid and thin. Hung my head in shame and refused to take blame, for the darkness I know I've let win.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 23px;">I wanna feel something sweeter than this sin. </span><span style="line-height: 23px;">Cover me in leaves and roll me over again. </span><span style="line-height: 23px;">I've been everybody else now I wanna be s</span><span style="line-height: 23px;">omething closer to myself. </span><span style="line-height: 23px;">Paint me in a different light, s</span><span style="line-height: 23px;">hed me yet another coat of skin, m</span><span style="line-height: 23px;">ark me with ash until I'm clean again. </span><span style="line-height: 23px;">Cause I'm so sick and tired o</span><span style="line-height: 23px;">f being sick and tired. </span><span style="line-height: 23px;">I know I can love you, I know that I can.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 23px;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 23px;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, You call me Daughter and you take my blame. And, You run to meet me when I cry out Your name. So, I fall before You in all of my shame. Lord, I am willing to be changed.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 23px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">Ever since that day, it's been clear to me t</span><span style="text-align: center;">hat no matter what comes, You will never leave. </span><span style="text-align: center;">I know You're for me, a</span><span style="text-align: center;">nd You're restoring e</span><span style="text-align: center;">very heartache and failure, every broken dream... </span><span style="text-align: center;">You're the God who sees, the God who rescued me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">This is my story.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
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</span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47;"><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">This</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;"> is my story:</span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47;"><br style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><b><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">All this time, from the first tear cried</span><br style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">'Till today's sunrise</span><br style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">And every single moment between</span><br style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">You were there, You were always there</span><br style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">It was You and I</span><br style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">You've been walking with me all this time.</span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: #ead1dc; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">[Lyrics from: "Before There was Time" - Caedmon's Call | "All This Time" - Britt Nicole | "I Am" - Nichole Nordeman | "Cut" - Plumb | "No More Chains" - Nichole Nordeman | "Martyrs and Thieves" - Jennifer Knapp | "Closer to Myself" - Kendall Payne | " Own Me" - Ginny Owens | "All This Time" - Britt Nicole]</span></span>Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-81477778752849331912013-03-08T21:39:00.002-06:002013-03-08T21:39:18.340-06:00Poem<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">D</span></i></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">[October 11, 2012]</span></i></div>
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I am not your judge.</div>
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Your name says it all.</div>
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I cannot move you</div>
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I cannot catch you when you fall.</div>
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I did not aim to change you,</div>
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I never wanted to dissuade you</div>
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Only to breathe to you...</div>
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You are more than your pain</div>
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You are more than any innocence your
father ever took from you</div>
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You are more than the lies that boy
spit at you,</div>
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Falling on your 16 year old lips like
sleet that never melts</div>
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You are more than your mother's
absence.</div>
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You are more than the girl's kisses
that fill you, but drain out when you look away.</div>
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I only wanted you to consider,</div>
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You only wanted me to shut my mouth.</div>
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I am not your judge.</div>
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I cannot build a bridge that you would
only be intent on burning</div>
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I cannot build a bridge between you and
me</div>
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I can only be a bridge between you and
the One who</div>
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Makes innocent and melts sleet and
sticks around and plugs up all of our holes</div>
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I am not your judge.</div>
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Your name says it all.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20185709.post-88775437708172886722012-10-10T22:46:00.001-05:002012-10-10T22:46:07.040-05:00Last LoveFrom Rachel McKibbens' poem, "Last Love"<br />
<br />
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"...Go with the one who resembles most your
father. Not the father you can<br />point out on a map,<br />But the
father who is here. Is your home. Is the key to your front door. Know
that your first love will only<br />Be the first. And the second and
third and even fourth will unprepare you for the most important:<br />The
Blessed. The Beast. The Last love. Which is, of course, the most
terrifying kind.<br />Because which of us wants to go with what can
murder us?
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Can pull us out of ourselves until<br />We
are no longer sisters or daughters or sword swallowers but,
instead,<br />Women. Who give. And lead. And take and want<br />And
want<br />And want<br />And want<br />Because there is no shame in
wanting.<br />And you will hear yourself say: Last Love, I wish to die
so I may come back to you new and never tasted by any other mouth but
yours.<br />And I want to be the hands that pull your children out of
you and tuck them deep inside myself until they are<br />Ready to be
the children of such a royal and staggering love. Or you<br />will say:
Last Love,<br />I am old, and have spent myself on the courageless,
have wasted too many clocks on less-deserving men, so I hurl
myself<br />At the throne of you and lie humbly at your feet.<br />Let the
day I was born mean my life will end where you end.<br />Let the man
behind the church do what he did if it brings me to you.<br />Let the
girls in the locker room corner me again if it brings me to you.<br />Let
this wild depression throw me beneath its hooves if it brings me to
you.<br />Last
love, I let other men borrow your children. Forgive me.<br />Last love,
I vowed my heart to another. Forgive me.<br />Last Love, I have cursed
the women you loved before me. Forgive me.<br />Last Love, I envy your
mother’s body where you resided first. Forgive me.<br />Last Love, I
am all that is left. Forgive me.<br />Last Love, I did not see you
coming. Forgive me.<br />Last Love, every day without you was a life I
crawled out of. Amen.<br />Last Love, you are my Last Love. Amen.<br />Last
Love, I am all that is left. Amen.<br />I am all that is left.<br />Amen"
</div>
Jessica Sanfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17729503352887048897noreply@blogger.com0