Benevolent

Bending,

Twisting,

I move my body unnaturally at the edges of your being,

writhing in response to your movements

in

and away.

I watch, hawklike, for a sign of approval

that rarely comes.

Like a dog that hasn’t learned to find food on its own,

I wait outside your house until the meager nourishment comes,

Devouring it,

and wait again.

I have got to be alone with myself,

I have got to escape your unfocused eyes!

I didn’t want to make you like this,

But it was done long ago.

You were a god before I was born—

benevolent, 

unwittingly the center of my incapable mind—

but ultimately

Uninterested.

I tear, rip, and break at the seams where independence meets identity,

a lover unrequited,

and it would be strange to see you do the same.

I pull at my silk chains but all they do is give me paper cuts.

I have got to be alone with myself,

have got to escape your kind, powerful eyes,

Your benevolent gaze.

-Sarah Sanders, '12

leave the light on

“Mama, what happens when we die?

Do we disappear into darkness,

like my hand does when the sun drops behind the mountains?

Do we evaporate like mist, gently lighting on the ground where we fell?

Or do we stop existing?”

“Mama, close the door, but not

all the way. Leave a light that I can run to when the darkness tries to take me.

Turn on a little TV, so I know you’re still out there.

Leave me now, but don’t go too far.”

When the sun goes down, is the whole universe dark?

Will I be able to see when I die?

Or will I be blind, deaf, and dumb?

Entombed forever in the knowledge of my own nonexistence,

Mummified.

Hold my hand while I sleep so that I don’t drift away.

I don’t like waking up alone.

The chill in the room wraps around my bones and strangles me with its persistent nothingness,

Its persistent nooneness.

Empty of Someone,

It is filled with ghosts and ghouls that could chase me off this bed and into something

called Hell.

Fill my ears with sound so that nothing else can get in.

Don’t let me think on this empty space anymore, 

Don’t let me die!

For that awful Figure will come to claim this life one day, Mama, keep him at bay.

“Baby, when you were born we all stood waiting,

wanting to welcome you home.

When you came, you were crying.

But when I held you, you were safe and warm.

That’s what happens when we die.

Everyone will be waiting for you to wake up,

And when you do,

You’ll never be alone again.”

-Sarah Sanders, '12

Cimmerian Shade

I’ve been in this Cimmerian shade too long

My heart of stone cries out for daylight’s heat

I pick the pieces up and carry on

It’s hard to say how long I have been gone

My muscles ache as I take to my feet

I’ve been in this Cimmerian shade too long

My joints are stiff where once they had been strong

They’re painful but they are not obsolete

I pick the pieces up and carry on

Before the dusk was gone I had withdrawn

Unable with this darkness to compete

I’ve been in this Cimmerian shade too long

I ache to find a cure for what is wrong

A source of light the darkness can’t deplete

I pick the pieces up and carry on

Perhaps if I can wait there’ll be a dawn

I shake the godlike guilt from my conceit

I’ve been in this Cimmerian shade too long

I pick the pieces up and carry on


-Sarah Sanders, '11

Wilderness

My feet have kept on walking though my body has gone dead

My limbs fall limp beside me, I cannot hold up my head

The sun beats down upon me, the mirage it makes is clear

It’s burning in my eyes and it is ringing in my ears

This path that I have tread, I can’t recall what it is named

I don’t know how I got here, I’ve forgotten why I came

My ankles long since broken, a disfigured silhouette

I walk toward the horizon and I stain the soil red

The earth cries out for water as the dust flees from the sun

It floats into my ears and looks for life, but there is none

Each step I take is muffled, and I think your voice is near

But my thoughts are screaming at me, and they’re all that I can hear

The movement automatic, I cannot seem to slow down

My footsteps have turned frantic, struggling to turn back around

I’m suddenly aware that I’ve been walking for too long

But I have long since lost the strength to say My strength is gone

I desperately remember what it’s like to see your face

I pray you’re up ahead somewhere, my feet pick up the pace

My breathing has gone heavy, and my body has gone dry

As despair dispels my energy, I cannot even cry

As consciousness creeps in, I find I’m standing very still

I think I could cry out now, but I don’t know if I will

I don’t know where I am, but I’ve a feeling I’m alone

So I sit and pray you’ll find me and you’ll carry me back home


-Sarah Sanders, '11

I Am Aware of the Darkness I Sit In.

I am standing,

face to face.

with a bright shining sun and a brilliant gleaming moon,

and your eyes, which make me uncomfortable with their kindness and warmth.

I don’t believe you.

My hands are drawn to you, grasping for your touch,

but my eyes want to turn away, shut tight for fear of seeing you cringe.

I feel your warmth radiate.

I hear your voice, full of friendship and love.

but I am illegitimate.

If I am looking into your face, I can feel myself come undone beneath the danger of loving you.

I am aware of the threat,

the terrorism that may pull me apart at any second

if I let these walls down and bare my soul.

the violence that will unfold if my passion is reciprocated,

the unfathomable destruction that will consume both of our lives

if we fall in love.

And I am aware of the darkness I sit in.

And I do not want to be its friend.

And I do not want you to leave me there.

and so I pray for violence,

and a burning light so bright I cannot help but reach out and touch it,

and be burned

and feel again

In Honor of National Coming Out Day 2011

This summer I found out that one of my best friends is gay. If I had ever imagined this scenario, I would have pictured him sitting me down, perhaps over coffee, and breaking the news privately. Perhaps he would have cried, or trembled while relating to me the grueling and terrifying experience of accepting his sexual identity in a conservative Christian environment. Perhaps he would have rehearsed what he was going to say, or maybe he would have no words at all except something to the effect of “This is who I am, and I can’t possibly hide it any longer.” In either case, I would have been sure to hear it straight from my friend himself.

Instead, I learned of my friend’s sexual orientation through a Facebook status. There were no tears or private, vaguely suspicious meetings. Just a Facebook blast after he had come out privately to friends and family... But not to me. And I know why.

At first, I was tempted to take the omission personally. But when he said he was terrified I would be upset if he told me, I realized that my membership in a particular group was what made our never-realized meeting so impossible. I remembered another close friend from high school, who had moved out of the state, avoiding me when she visited home because she had come out as a lesbian, and no matter how close our friendship had been, I was still a Christian. 

I once heard someone say that if the Church were to keep silent—completely silent— for the next fifty years on the issue of homosexuality, the world would still know our general stance. We have beat the issue into the ground, and into the heads and hearts of countless people in our pulpits. We have plastered our opinions on billboards, and t-shirts, and picket signs.  We’ve been at times painfully intentional in turning our backs, and closing the circle of our communities with tightly clenched fists, keeping out those who violate what seems to be our number one rule. We have made quite sure that any moral, religious, philosophical, or logic-driven arguments Christians may have against homosexuality will never be forgotten. And the goal has been reached. We’ve done what we set out to do. The rejection felt by those in the LGBT community from the Church I am sure will never, ever be forgotten.

It didn’t matter that I had never voiced a negative opinion about homosexuality to my friend. I hadn’t used Scripture to justify hate or prejudice, and I had definitely never made a picket sign that says “Fags go to hell.” If I had never so much as even mentioned the issue, it still would not have mattered, because I am part of a group that is seen by those in my community and across the country as uncompromisingly against homosexuals. No more of this “Hate the sin, love the sinner” crap. Our actions and attitudes have historically communicated nothing short of hate toward the LGBT community, and that is something we need to be honest about. I wish that it was enough to simply stay quiet and try not to say anything “offensive.” But in order to make our friends and family feel welcomed in our churches, we must do much more than that. Our hospitality toward the LGBT community requires communion and solidarity.

I am an ally of the LGBT community because I don’t want another person to stay silent because of me. I am an ally because hate has driven our friends, brothers, sisters, and children away from us. I am an ally because Jesus Christ has welcomed me, and I believe the Church can love better than this. I am an ally because of my friend.

-Sarah Sanders '11

http://www.hrc.org/resources/entry/national-coming-out-day

A copy of my thank you letter from my trip! (Plus some pics.) Thanks, y'all!

Dear Friends and Family,

What a summer it has been! This Spring I sent you a letter asking for support for my upcoming trip to Kathmandu, Nepal. I was so blessed by the support I received from you all. For those of you who have been praying for my team, thank you! Words truly can’t describe the Lord’s provision these past two months, but I’m going to try anyhow.

Kevin, Chris and I spent two months in Kathmandu, Nepal. When we left, the future was a total mystery, but God orchestrated each of our days perfectly. We ended up working mainly with King’s Kids Nepal, a ministry of YWAM. To keep it short and sweet: we spent our days dwelling with the street kids of Kathmandu. 

There are between five and six thousand children on the streets of Kathmandu, driven to the streets for a number of reasons, including poverty, broken or nonexistent families, and the desire for freedom. We had the opportunity to get to know between 30 and 40 of these kids. Our challenge during our two months was to become more than just another group of tourists to them. One thing we learned was that tourists are a major factor keeping kids on the street, by giving them food, clothes, and money. When the kids have all their physical needs provided for by strangers, there is no reason for them to seek long-term help from the many non-profit organizations in Kathmandu that exist solely to help them. This provision, combined with the addictive nature of street life, makes successful rescue and rehabilitation of street kids very rare.

Our goal in spending time with the kids was to build a relationship with them that was based around mutual love and respect rather than material things like money or food. We also sought to connect the boys we knew with our friends at YWAM, so they would have a resource when we left should they choose to leave the street. Needless to say, we fell madly in love with the group of misfit boys and girls we spent our days with. Our mornings were spent with our YWAM friends, playing soccer and volleyball and talking to the kids. Our nights were spent on the streets near our hotel with a group of boys that we became very close with. Despite the language and cultural barriers, we shared countless special moments with the kids, many of them through the universal language of laughter. Chris was able to reconnect with some boys he knew last year, and Kevin and I quickly understood what made him want to come back: these kids are amazing! Despite their conditioning by the streets, which forces them to be hard, we were able to see part of who each of the kids truly are, and they are good. If I could sum up what we learned about them in one word, it would be just that: They are good kids who never had a chance.

And so we have come home, changed because of the incredible love the Lord has given us for the children who have become our family, and changed most deeply because of the love they showed to us. We’ve also come home with a heart for the incredible friends we made who are currently doing long-term work in Kathmandu. Please keep them in your prayers. We worked most closely with Dilip and Rina and the rest of their YWAM staff members, who have more than 15 years experience on the streets between them. Their heart for the kids is inspiring. They have many plans for the future, but they still need funds. I am currently selling scarves to raise money for their ministry. If you need some great stocking stuffers, they’re going for $10 each!

We also spent a lot of time with our good friends from Tiny Hands International. They were an invaluable support for us as we wrestled with the big issues of street life, and we got to see firsthand the incredible work they are doing. Please consider supporting this organization that provides hope for abandoned children, street kids, and trafficked women in Nepal, India, and Bangladesh. While in Pokhara, we visited one of their children’s homes and were so encouraged by the love the children were receiving. We also met the founder of Art Beat Nepal and helped run a camp for Young Life, a Christian organization that reaches out to high school kids who aren’t typically reached by the church. The director, Hom, and the volunteer staff members became good friends, and the impact of their ministry was evident in the incredible kids there.

Lastly, we visited our friend Pastor Ranjit Kunwar at Princess Beads Nepal. Princess Beads employs women who are at-risk or who have been rescued from trafficking or prostitution by running a thriving bead-making business. Through this work, the women are able to attend school and support themselves and their families. Pastor Ranjit is an great man with a powerful testimony who has also opened a successful home for twenty street boys, which is almost unheard of. This ministry is worthy of support, and Ranjit is currently looking for business connections in the U.S. in order to expand their ministry. Please pray about this!

There are dedicated people all over Kathmandu working hard to combat poverty, prostitution, oppression, homelessness, and the exploitation of women and children—too many to name. Please pray for their work, and pray that the many NGOs in Nepal would be working together in a way that would powerfully change the structures and systems they seek to change. And please pray for the street kids, that they would live long lives filled with love and purpose, and that the systemic issues that drive children to the streets would be broken apart.

This short letter truly doesn’t do justice to the rich, dynamic, awe-inspiring characters of the boys and girls we got to know this summer, but I wanted to share a little bit of our experience with you as a Thank You, for praying for us and supporting us in this journey. If you’d like to know more I would love to share with you! Feel free to contact me via email or phone. You can also catch up on our blog at www.nepalresource11.blogspot.com I’m excited to see where God takes this new passion I’ve been given, and I’d love to share that journey with you. Please also consider visiting the websites of these ministries:

www.kingskidsnepal.com and http://vimeo.com/5514271 (<to see some of our kids!)

http://ranjitkunwarministries.org/

www.tinyhandsinternational.org

www.younglife.org
http://artbeatnepal.wordpress.com/

With all my love and thanks,

Sarah Sanders

Here's some pictures that won't be included in the letters I send out (sorry y'all, color ink is expensive!!!)

Dilip showing some of the boys a magic trick. The little ham in the middle is our friend Vijay :)

These kids have homes but they spend their days on the street selling postcards for extra income. We became great friends with them and called them the "Fruit Babies" because they all have fruit nicknames!

A group picture with most of the boys on our very last day. We had just said our goodbyes, so our eyes are red from crying!

Kathmandu!! We will miss you. Until next time...