Saradactyl.com

She Speaks! What?

Creativity is a bitch. You know - like a female dog. (what did you think I meant?) With its consistent generation of new ideas, and litters of roly-poly-fuzzy-wuzzy-so-cute-ooo-juuuus-wanna-bite-its-wittle-bitty-ears idyllic genius? Seriously - it is no small wonder that our demiurgic selves might be slightly overwhelmed by the delicious chaos of it all. It may even lend one toward the inclination that one might be better off with one's hoo-haa snipped and clipped. (whispers: SACRILEGE!)

I'm a Blogger? Sorta.

I'm a Writer? Well, I wanna be.

I'm a scatter-brained-type-B-personality-who-is-much-better-able-to-string-together-a-coherent-thought-if-there-are-dirty-socks-on-the-floor-dishes-in-the-sink-and-perhaps-a-bottle-of-unidentifiable-sandwich-condiment-in-the-middle-of-the-living-room-for-no-apparent-reason-hypothetically-speaking-of-course? Oh! Ho! Ho! *fluffs hair* Yes - speaking.

That being said, I feel that my burgeoning genius (*cough-choke*) as a writer/blogger might be more aptly served with some - shall we say - structure? Mmmm, not really the right word.  Direction? No... *taps finger to chin* A free scholarship to the Proverb's 31 Ministries She Speaks! Speaking, Writing, and Leadership Conference featuring sessions for Bloggers? *snaps fingers* YES! That's just the ticket!

I mentioned to my friends that I have once again felt impressed by the Lord to write My Book. You know.... THE book. The one that tells The Story of the disgusting depravity of it all, and the Savior who was small enough to get down in the mire with me..... the Savior who was big enough to tow me out.

However, as you can see - my style (*cough-sputter*) is a wee bit unconventional - especially among Christian circles. (Hello? I just referred to my creativity as a [and I quote] "bitch".) So, it's been an interesting journey figuring out exactly where I fit in, or if I could fit in, or whether I would even want to.

What I DO know is that I have been called to "SPEAK": books, blogs, photography, painting, poetry, songs, music.... WHATEVER form it may take. Ultimately I have to be obedient to the call of raising those litters of roly-poly-fuzzy-wuzzy-so-cute-ooo-juuuus-wanna-bite-its-wittle-bitty-ears idyllic genius into full-grown-hard-core-unapologetic-truth-speaking oaks of righteousness that point to God's sufficiency and grace.

THAT is why I want to attend this conference. I mean... sure! An engine can run without its scheduled oil changes - but the car will not function at its ultimate potential! The pistons become sluggish, and are gunked-up by the impurities that have built up from too much wear and tear. Look at the 2008 She Speaks Conference as a spiritual oil change of sorts: an opportunity to witness the call on your life be brought into fruition; using the gifts and talents He has given you to actually PUT INTO ACTION the calling of Proverbs 31:26 - "She speaks with wisdom and faithful instruction is on her tongue." What an amazing opportunity to experience the life-changing power of the Holy Spirit, and revive the calling to become the creative being that was formed in the image of the Creative God!

Will the dirty socks stay in the floor? Probably. Will the dishes remain unwashed? It depends on who is coming over. What about the unidentifiable bottle of sandwich condiment in the middle of the living room floor? Well, if the dog doesn't get to it first..................

More importantly: Will the rubber of my spiritual talk meet the asphalt of operating outside of my comfort zone?

I certainly hope so.

Sara's Funeral

I was on the ride home from the 4,008,712th (and really - just 1 is too many) funeral that I've attended in the past 8 months or so - and so many thoughts were spilling over the dam in my brain, and making an absolute MESS of the compartmentalization that I am OH SO GOOD at. Will people hate my funeral, too? How many people would be there? And isn't the American death-scene too proper and respectful? Shouldn't we be clawing at the dirt and tearing our clothes? The daughter of my deceased aunt, stood outside the funeral home screaming and wailing - completely irrational and drowning in the depths of a grief that comes from losing a mother. Was it pretty? No. Was it proper? Definitely not. Was it real? Yes. Was it EXACTLY what I was doing on the inside? Absolutely.

God in His infinite wisdom has granted our finite bodies the ability to eternally link our souls with one another. When that link is broken, something inside us breaks too. And though we do not grieve as those who have no hope - our spirits still bleed and bruise in the wake of death.

So. When I die? I know you all would be SO rocked with grief, right? *giggles* Seriously - this is a morbid conversation, but one that everyone needs to have with their friends and loved ones. I do have some requirements that I would like for SOMEONE out there to make sure happens whenever I kick the bucket.

• I want to donate what can be used of this body after I'm done with it - burn whatever's left over.
• Since I'll be cremated - NO OPEN CASKET.
• Ew, that'd be gross after the whole cremation thing.
• NO FUNERAL HOMES.
• I want a party.
• A BIG "WELCOME HOME" PARTY!
• PLEASE DO NOT SEND FLOWERS.
• Please, please, please.
• My family LOVES plants and trees and bulbs and flower seeds.
• So if you MUST - give them something that'll actually live.
• Anyway.... back to the party.
• There should be loud music, and dancing.
• Please someone make sure there are margaritas.
• You should swap stories - GOOD AND BAD!!!
• Go through my photo archives and make fun of the thousands of self-portraits that are floating around out there.
• I know that it's cheesy, and horribly cliche - but I really must insist that someone, at some point play Freebird - COMPLETE with air-guitar.
• Most importantly - I want you to mourn and grieve in whatever way suites you.
• You can scream and wail, if you want.
• Laugh with an upturned face toward heaven.
• Sit quietly.
• Whatever.
• Just remember that if I go before you, I will have gained heaven - and on that side of heaven, our reunion will seem to happen within the passing of just one day.
• It might seen a little longer from YOUR perspective..... *shrugs*
• Heh, sucks for you.
• But it is what it is.

So - take note. You have my full-on permission to beat the ass of anyone who sends a basket full of dying flowers. Mmmmk? Mmmmk.

Oh - and I wasn't kidding about the margaritas. Just sayin'.

What about you? Any final requests?