Wordless

The article deadline was encroaching, and I didn't have an article.

My topic was "worship." For someone who spent years engaging the word while working in music ministry with my dad, I was coming up short on ideas.

This one was supposed to be an easy write.

I began with a Sunday School definition of worship, something that involved singing, music, and praising God truthfully from the heart. I looked for an illustration from my life, adjusted my approach to the topic accordingly, and sent in a draft.

It wasn't right.

I spent a day or two sighing over my dilemma. I didn't have energy to rewrite. I was fresh out of ideas anyway. I write too much poetry, and often leave the concrete behind, which makes for too-vague writing. But I had volunteered to write the article, and I knew that it would be good for me -- and for my writing -- to see it through.

I'm at Ungrind today. Click on over for the rest of the story.

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MOVING UPDATE: Thank you all for your prayers and sweet comments over the weekend. They are being felt.

We moved most of our stuff over to our new house on Friday and Saturday, thinking that someone would be there to install the sink and finish the wiring that was supposed to be done already. Any minute, I was sure they would show.

By Saturday evening, we decided to call someone to take a look at the water situation, and we discovered that the city had turned the water off completely.

Instead of trying to deal with two kids and two houses and meals and baths, we decided it would be best for me to take the kids to my parents' house in VA. Pete drove us up on Sunday and drove back Sunday night to see to things this week until the house is ready for us to come home and live. This way I have a little more support, and Pete will not be so torn between his priorities at work and for the move.

I may be a bit spotty on the blog this week until we get home to our regular schedule.

Parenting on Purpose: My Labor of Love

For months, I'd been dreading this. For weeks, I'd been trying to put it off. But now it was time. Forty weeks and three days and a walk in the warm July sunshine brought contractions fast, coming one on top of another.

I was learning to breathe as I'd never breathed, and my breathing became a moaning song. There was no room for fear, no other goal but passing through these five hours of promised pain. In seven relieving pushes, one beautiful squirming dream emerged into my world with a tiny cry of surprise and I held life in my arms.

I passed into motherhood knowing I would fail sometimes, but I was unprepared for the challenges I would face. Piper found more personality than most babies her age. Too soon, she grasped her own identity and became more than I thought she was, more than I was ready for her to be.

I was advised to set boundaries, to let her cry it out, to force her to concede my authority over her. But Piper wouldn't be controlled. She completely panicked if we tried to make her cry it out. Spankings were irrelevant and counterproductive.

Something was wrong...

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Read more of my most recent article at Ungrind.

Released to Love

By Kelly Langner Sauer

Deep in a dark forest that few dare enter lies a meadow flooded with light. Wildflowers grow there, enticing little white butterflies robed in glory not their own.

In this meadow, there is a girl who is at once both youthful and aged. She is clothed in a white gown that shimmers and moves in the fragrant breeze as she runs free through the wildflowers.

Someone watches her play, smiling at her freedom. She catches sight of Him, and she runs to Him. Their eyes meet. He loves the perfect trust she has for Him as she accepts His outstretched hand, and they run together in the meadow.

It was a beautiful picture I had for myself—total surrender to God. I believed that if I handed my whole life over to Him, I'd be free to run in that lovely meadow under the smile of His love.

For years, I turned my focus inward, trying to reach a place where I desired only God. I walked aisles to dedicate and rededicate my life to Him. I prayed for peace, tried to trust, and hoped that somehow I'd find freedom from the part of myself that kept backing out of my desire to be fully abandoned to Him...

Read More of my most recent article at Ungrind.

Letter to Sarah

Dear Mother S.:

When A. walked in and said, "Honey, we need to move," did you think he was crazy? I don't know how you could leave the home you knew and loved—your own people—to pack up and go with your husband God-knows-where. Of course, maybe you wanted to start fresh, go somewhere new, and make friends who didn't know about your barren past.

Still, following God by leaving everything behind must have seemed crazy to you at first. I know it felt crazy to me when P. asked me, "What about Charleston?" after eight years of living in a place I chose myself after twenty-some moves with parents and siblings and college and jobs and baby. I didn't want to leave my home. I didn't want to leave the few friends I had or the photography business I had spent several years building....

Read More...

I had another article published at Ungrind this week. See? I promised you deep thoughts soon! Okay, so I wrote them a couple months ago, but come on... It's really just more of the same though, a bit of my struggle and growth through the changes of moving written out in letter form to Sarah of old, who moved a LOT as she followed her husband. It helps to remember those who have gone before.

mirror image

My first published article.
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Mirror Image By Kelly Langner Sauer

About a year ago I took up a self-portrait project in the mirror in an attempt to get a photo for my blog. I didn't want a posed picture with a tight-lipped portrait smile. I wanted to capture some reality to offer my readers a glimpse of who I am.

My self-portrait session began dismally. I'm a photographer and not a naturally photogenic person. I can see the beauty in others and I love capturing it, but I don't usually bother looking for beauty in myself.

But it was me behind the camera looking at me in front of the camera. And I didn't like what I saw through my lens. I couldn't manage a real smile to save my life. I had no trouble capturing my frustration with myself. The angry looks. The annoyance with my subject. The stuck-out tongue....

Read more of this article, and other articles about image this month at Ungrind.