Faithful in the Fray

Community: a group of people living in the same place or having a particular characteristic in common.

Out of the eight different missions trips I have gone on in the last decade I have always been a part of a group. Sometimes the groups have been big (35+) and sometimes the groups have been small (11). But I have never gone alone. In September of 2010 my world changed drastically. I had signed up to go to Kenya, a place I never imagined myself going, with 10 other people. I had two leaders, and eight teammates. The first night we were all together was weird. I was never the person who signed up for camp, I liked sleepovers on my turf with just one or two people, big groups freaked me out, and I was severely claustrophobic. All of that didn’t seem to matter that night. I was sleeping in a bunk with 20 other girls in the middle of downtown Atlanta. My new reality. Over the course of that week at training camp I slept in a bunk with no electricity, I took showers from a hose that felt like needles on my spine, I had bugs all over me, I used a port-a-potty on a daily basis, I ate ‘family style’ which resulted in mass amounts of hunger, and I did everything with my team. We had nightly talks after our sessions about how we were doing, things we were learning, trying to break the barriers down as rapidly as we could. As 18-22 year olds that were about to travel to another continent for the next three months we really needed to get to know each other and (hopefully) like each other, fast.

What I never expected to happen was for me to fall in love with the people around me. I lived with those ten humans, day in and day out, for three months straight. We walked together, ate together, laughed together, cried together, worshiped together, prayed together, screamed together, smelled horrible together, and lived life together. That was it. My humans. My community.

Acts 2:44-47 “And all who believed were together and had all things in common. And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need. And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved.”

Coming home was one of the worst experiences of my life. If you ask my teammates, I couldn’t wait to be home. I was sick as a dog the majority of the trip and I wanted nothing more than my bed and my family. The first night I was home though, oh, I was so sad. I remember being in a deep depression for months afterwards. It was hard coming out of community, leaving a place you left your heart, and then returning to ‘life as normal.’

The months before my next trip, I craved that community to the core of my being. I had a taste of something so sweet, and then it was gone. I had never been a part of community, I had no idea it was Biblical and I was confused as to why we, in America, had never done this before. In Africa, you would have little villages with huts right next to each other. They lived in community. They used the same squatty, they had their cattle together, they had fires together, and they broke bread together. It was normal for them. As it says in Acts, chapter 4:32 “All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had.”

A couple days before our wedding, Jeremy and I had some of our closest friends over to our new apartment. We prayed over it, we worshiped, and we asked the Lord to make that space welcoming. We wanted our home to not be ours, but to be open for anyone who might need a place. We wanted to have friends over to eat at our “community table” because that is what it’s all about. Joining together as the body and breaking bread. We wanted the first step you took into our home to be free and full of peace, and comfort knowing that it’s safe.

This way of living in community isn’t something abnormal, it’s normal, its God-given, it’s beautiful. I can’t begin to tell you the stories of the random people I have met, who have now become some of my best friends. The reason? We share Jesus in common. We love the Lord, we love the gifts He has given us, and each person brings something so different to the table.

Romans 12:4-8 states “Just as our bodies have many parts and each part has a special function, so it is with Christ’s body. We are many parts of one body, and we all belong to each other. In his grace, God has given us different gifts for doing certain things well. So if God has given you the ability to prophesy, speak out with as much faith as God has given you. If your gift is serving others, serve them well. If you are a teacher, teach well. If your gift is to encourage others, be encouraging. If it is giving, give generously. If God has given you leadership ability, take the responsibility seriously. And if you have a gift for showing kindness to others, do it gladly.”

We are all uniquely made, and we all have so much to offer one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. One of the most used phrases in my community says  ‘know that you are fought for.” I mean, how could you not want to be a part of something where you have people in your corner, fighting for you, on a daily basis. There is something so extremely comforting knowing that I have people who care about me, and who want to see me succeed, and who will tell me when I’m not acting like I should. They push, they comfort, and they are there.  I don’t know if I would be the person I am today without the people that have taken the time and actively fought for me. My family, my friends, and people I’ve randomly connected with years ago. They all matter. They all have a voice.

This concept of community might seem strange in a world that screams ‘don’t get in my way and don’t get to know me.’ We’re okay with going to church on Sundays and maybe Wednesdays, if we can make the time, to fill our Spiritual bellies and feel good for a few days. We hoard Jesus to ourselves and downright refuse to get out of our comfort zone.  My question? When will you let someone in? When will you allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of other people? When will you let someone push you to be a better version of yourself? Our generation is crying out for attention, we want people to care and to notice us, but we aren’t willing to care and notice others.

It can happen. It is happening. If you want it, you can find it. It’s beautiful, and Biblical, and it’s going to change your life.

Let it be said that “Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another.”

As I sit here, on my bed, in my room that is now proudly decorated in 400 twinkling lights, I’m thinking back to the many things that have happened this month.

Jeremy and I have been extremely busy during month four of our marriage. We started with working overtime at work and heading down to our youth fall retreat. We then had a lovely dinner date with a couple from our church. The next weekend we found ourselves in Tellico Plains, Tennessee. And then just last weekend I had the joy to go down to Savannah and hang out with a couple of the girls I went to Kenya with, four years ago.

I’ve just briefly touched on the weekends, and while those were fantastic and I’ll get more in depth here soon, I wanted to talk about what happens during the day. A typical day for Jeremy and I looks like this:

6am- alarm goes off, Sara goes to get a shower

615am- Jeremy walks blindly into the bathroom

620-650am- sara gets ready while Jeremy makes a cup of coffee and sits down in the bathroom while she does her hair and makeup

650am- they hug (see, I’m working on it people) and leave for the day.

7am- Jeremy has made it to work and calls to say I love you one last time

750am- Sara makes it to work

8-12pm work work work, then Jeremy calls on his lunch break. they talk for a few minutes. (and say I love you like 8 times)

12pm-4pm work work work

4pm-5pm sit in traffic and sing Taylor Swift at the top of her lungs (Sara, not Jeremy)

(if it’s a Wednesday we head straight to church)

5pm-830pm- change into yoga pants immediately, unwind, make dinner, tackle any projects sara has randomly come up with during the day, take pictures, watch some tv.. etc.

830-9pm- in bed and start all over.

Yes, we go to bed that early.

While most people think our lives are so glamorous and full of fun activities, it’s really not. We’re really boring and just love to hang out at our house.

Also, because I want to be as real as possible on this blog, I wanted to go through some of the highs and lows of month four. It’s not all roses here in the Colquhoun household.

High:

The youth fall retreat was nothing short of a blessing. Jeremy drummed and I sang and it was so beautiful for the two of us to be able to use the gifts we’ve been blessed with to serve and praise our Heavenly Father. The youth group has our heart and we are being used more and more with this amazing group of young people.

Low:

I have been collecting gold picture frames since we got married and have been waiting to get floating shelves to put them up on. Well, we finally bought shelves a few weeks ago and when we went to put them up, we almost killed each other. I am very particular when it comes to how things look around the house. I like to walk around and make sure everything is level and where it needs to be. These shelves though, they were bad for the marriage. We couldn’t get them level, and then the screws weren’t working, and the dry wall hooks weren’t staying in place. I was getting more aggravated by the minute until finally we put the shelves down and that’s where they’ve stayed ever since. It wasn’t worth it, and quite frankly, I’m not sure those shelves will ever be put up.

High:

Tellico Plains, Tennessee. On our wedding day I gave Jeremy an envelope and inside that envelope was a picture of a log cabin. That log cabin was going to be ours the weekend of October 31 – November 2. We had always dreamed about the day we could go on a trip, just the two of us, without chaperones. I knew that a log cabin was a place we had dreamed about and wanted to make sure that happened. So, we packed up and headed out of town. It didn’t go exactly how we planned but it was beautiful and cold and the trees were amazing. I would love to go back there one day!

Low:

When Jeremy drives my prayer life increases. He’s not necessarily a bad driver, I just always feel like something is going to happen. It might be because he likes to get $500 speeding tickets during our wedding week and now four months later we’re still paying it off. Or it might just be because I hate releasing control. When driving to our apartment there are two routes you can take. One requires one turn and then you park, the other requires three turns and then you park. I, Sara, prefer the direct one turn route. Jeremy, my lovely husband, prefers the long route, making more turns getting us there slower. Now, does this actually matter? No, not at all. But, does it matter to a direct, one turn kind of girl? Yes. We’re working on it.

High:

We are now parents! (no, I’m not pregnant…yet) We are now sponsoring two lovebugs in Mozambique. It’s so nice to be able to work with my dear friend, Anna, and her husband, Ryan, sponsoring children in their own school! How amazing is that? I’m praying that one day we are able to go and hug these little ones. Jesus is so good to allow us to be an extension of Him as we are here in America. We are praying for you, Almerante and Yuna. You two are dear to our hearts.

This month we have Thanksgiving and decorating our first Christmas tree. We also have presents to buy and bills to pay. Who knows what kind of craziness we can get ourselves into!

Over the past year I’ve gone through an insane amount of change. As someone who grew up not liking change, this could’ve easily sent me to a downward spiral, but instead it did the opposite. Every day something new has happened, and made my eyes open even wider as to why I am, where I am today. People have been confirming the exact things I’ve been praying about, I have listened to a song and it’s as if Jesus Himself is speaking to me, I have tried something new and I didn’t fail. Newness and change is inevitable  and for once, I’m welcoming it.

I’m one of those people who enjoys starting things and never actually finishing them. For instance: let’s talk about how many times I started to blog, to only write one post. Or the number of times I got on the scale, looked down with my jaw open, and told myself I’m never eating a cookie again. Then there was  the time I thought I had my whole life planned out, where I was going to go to school, where I wanted to teach, and somehow I ended up in a tent in the middle of Tangi-Tatu, Kenya, saying goodnight to 10 other people hoping the hyenas didn’t eat our food. Every day. More change. I prayed for it. I relentlessly asked God to show me something new every day. Speak to me, show me Your eyes, Your heart. Let me listen to You and let my words be only Your words. So powerful and bold sometimes I couldn’t believe it. Little by little, it started to happen.

Side note: I fail, every day, multiple times.

Three or four times a week on my drive down to work I blast my worship music and pray out loud. I always start off by thanking God for who He is, because let’s be honest for a minute, we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Him. Then I get to the nitty gritty. I cry out to Him, asking for more, and more. Lord, let me never be satisfied with what I have. Lord, let me never become complacent in my walk with You. Lord, let me love you more than everything in my life. Those words will knock you down. I’ve prayed so much and so fiercely I have parked, gotten out of my car, and continued to whisper as I walked to my office. People have stared at me in the elevator, because they think I’ve gone mad. Truth is: I’ve gone mad. for Jesus. (thanks Michael)

Those moments in the car, worship blasting, praising Papa for everything He has done, those moments have changed me. He has made me feel more alive in these past few weeks than I have in the past couple of years. He has shown me the beauty in every person, even when I don’t want to see any. He has given me words, and scriptures that I have been able to share with those around me. I’ve been entrusted with more and it’s been scary. The minute I asked The Lord for more, I knew I wasn’t going to be the same. He was going to pull me out of my comfort zone like never before. He was going to place things in my life that were too much to handle. Newsflash: HE DOES THAT! God ALWAYS gives us more than we can handle. We need Him. We need His help. He’s not going to give us things that we can easily do by ourselves.  Why would He even exist if that was the case?

In order to be more like Christ we have to be less of self. It’s a concept I’m still figuring out. While I want to sit next to my husband as he plays Xbox, I feel the Lord tugging at my heart asking me to come spend some time with Him. While I want to listen to one direction on the way to work at 6am, I blast ‘it is well’, because it’s better. While I want to do all these ‘worldly’ things in life, I feel my heart being tugged at for more and more of Jesus. I want nothing more in these moments than to abandon everything, and sit in His presence for hours. He makes me come alive. He changes me. He makes me forget that I even exist to do anything else but worship Him.

I hope that as I continue to change to look more and more like Jesus, people would begin to recognize Him in me. They wouldn’t see Sara, but they would see a reflection of Christ. As I get frustrated, and tired, and fret over stupid things, may I always point people back to Jesus. May my passion for Him never die.  May I never pray empty prayers, but know that I am praying to the Holy of Holy’s. His change is scary, but worth it. His love is real yet tangible. His grace is unfathomable.

Take this world, but give me Jesus.