Bits & Bobs #10
content creation, God-ordained encounters and places that feel like home
Before drifting to sleep last night, I allowed my mind to transport me all across the world to places I have traveled…places that feel like home.
Chai in the living room of our friends in Southern Asia, nestled high up in the foothills of the Himalayas. Standing next to the Danube in Budapest (I actually remember quietly sighing “this feels like home” under the powder blue sky). A small, hidden cafe in Scotland, sipping the best vanilla tea ever to have graced my tastebuds. Walking among the dusty ground of a refugee village in The Dominican. Holding a child’s hand in Mexico. Laughing with new friends deep in the jungle of El Salvador…the first time I marveled at how instant connections can be made in extreme circumstances. Eating tangerines in Buenos Aires. Sitting on the balcony of The Lilac Tree on Mackinac Island’s Main Street with my mom and Addie. Lounging in our own backyard with a book in my hands. The altar of our church. My favorite coffee shops. The eyes of my family.
Home.
My dad once told me that he thought I could be happy anywhere…that I’m easy to please. I guess I just love really easily.
I think it’s possible to be so enamored at being alive that you can feel at home anywhere, yet realize the temporal nature of it all. This world is not our home, but affords us small glimpses while we are waiting. If the fantastic feeling of “home” can be felt in minuscule drops on this earth and in this temporary life, just imagine the intensity of “home” that awaits in eternity. Wow.
Quite regularly, I feel billows of gratitude wash through me. I actually cannot put it into words, but the best I can describe it is this….I’M HERE. Wherever “here” may be, I am present. Breathing. Feeling. Experiencing my own hand-written story. What a gorgeous thing. It’s overwhelming.
This might be the perfect time to begin this week’s completely random bits and bobs, now that I think of it…
1 - A year ago, the moonlight rested gently upon a tin-roof-open-air church in The Dominican…a place that whispered “home” to me. A small girl latched onto me as we worshipped together in the open air - people who had nothing yet everything all at once surrounding. Dancing. Rejoicing. Smiling. Gathering. Joy. Gratitude.
They invited me to lead them in worship, and I sat at the small keyboard with my friend Lisa holding a rickety microphone in front of my face. As soon as my fingers hit the keys, I realized only a few of the keys actually worked. It was brutal on my end, yet the people worshiped with vigor and didn’t care one bit. It’s what they had, and that was that.
Long story short, one of the provisions we left was a new piano. This morning, my friend Missy grabbed my hand at church. She just got back from visiting these people we love so dearly, and she said, “Sarah, I wish you could have seen it. This piano is treasured. They carry it gently from one church to another leading worship, and the play it with so much love and joy. This gift is a part of leading so many times of worship! It just goes on and on and on!”
This is why. THIS is why.
2 - This weekend, I spoke at a Lutheran Women’s retreat, and upon arrival I realized I forgot very important papers at home. I visited the front desk and asked if the clerk if she could help me print several things, and in the process realized WHY I had forgotten my papers. I was supposed to meet her.
Not only did she help me, but I had two days worth of lovely conversations with her about her new faith, God’s nearness in loss, serving in ministry and living a life of faith when surrounded by opposition. Her new faith and hunger for Jesus inspired me greatly, and it was an honor to share prayer with her right there in the conference center lobby. If my whole reason for being there was to meet Kymberlee, it was all worth it. This, I am sure, was designed by God.
3 - The other day, my mom, Addie and I visited a coffee shop near my parent’s house. An elderly man sat alone at the table next to us, and I noticed how he observed everything around him with a serene quietness. When one of the baristas passed by, he stopped her for conversation. “Can you tell me what the tattoos on your arm mean?” he asked. She quickly proceeded to gush about the art on her skin; and he listened, soft smile curling the corners of his mouth and understanding nods given.
I decided I want to be like him when I’m old. Inquisitive. Observant. Quick to listen. Slow to judge.
4 - Isn’t it funny how humanity likes to debate hot topics together? I imagine us all like that rowdy group of old people sitting at McDonalds with cups of coffee in hand, shooting the breeze about politics, weather, main stream media, achy joints, medication and Facebook.
Right now the topics are Bad Bunny (still) and daylight savings time. It’s crazy how up-in-arms people can get over moving the clock one hour.
Well, Jim, I’m glad you asked me. Here’s what I think.
It’s just one hour. We’ll survive. Let the politicians hash it out, move your clock, go to bed an hour early and enjoy the later light. We would call this a “non essential issue” that doesn’t deserve complaint.
And Bad Bunny? I don’t know if he’s backed by some militant mafia groups and I don’t know what he was rapping about. But this much I learned - I do believe the man is tone deaf when auto-tune is stripped away. Boys and girls, if a man like that can have a Super Bowl half-time show, anything is possible. So let’s stop trying to platform ourselves because platform does not always equal all the things we wish for in life.
5 - I was thinking about content creation the other day. While I’m not active on personal socials, I create content for two places. IT TAKE SO MUCH TIME, guys. But here’s the thing - content creation is, in essence, feeding a beast that’s never satisfied.
You create, you post, it’s ingested and scrolled past in a half second (or lost in the abyss), and then you have to make more. And more. And more. And more. As Justin Whitmel Early said, “Isn’t it strange to consider there is no bottom? it only goes on and on. No wonder our hearts get lost.” OOF.
It’s difficult to create content when this is realized.
6 - Ending on a bright note, our little Mike is now my walking buddy. He has grown out of the “rabid squirrel on a leash” phase and can now make it a few miles with me. He’s growing into quite the companion for us, and there are so many beautiful “right now” moments I am fully enjoying with him.
Our windows are smeared with nose marks, our floors are stamped with paw prints, we’re always covered in white “love flecks” of hair, and I’m always cleaning something. But he’s grown to love us and we’ve grown to love him. Our little bud.
Thank you, Jesus.
With Love,
Sarah Beth Gerbers