True Confessions of a Snow Princess

Dear Alaska,



You are so lovely.

And in you I am a snow princess. 

When I read about you in books, when I see pictures of sled dogs in hotels, when I sing the state song, I cry.  You are in my blood and my bones.

I had a notion wrapped in dreams, hopes, anticipation, anxiety, and stress...a notion that when I came back to you I would understand why I felt like I was always different.  The differences would feel erased, I would finally be home. But you know what?  I found out...I also feel different here.  

You know who I am like?  Not Alaskans, not Mormons, not Alaskan Mormons,  not people from small towns, not even necessarily my best friends (all people I previously thought I was like)...you know who I have found I might actually be most like?  MY PARENTS.

Yep.  

My parents are two of the most unique people I have ever met. Being like my parents means I will forever be different.  I'm proud of that...not necessarily being different, but being like my parents.

There is something different about being different here.  I don't feel lost, drowned out, misunderstood, overlooked, dismissed.  I feel like people are nice. Really nice.  People with no reason to be nice, and maybe even a reason to not be nice, they're kind.  Sometimes people who I don't think much of initially are very kind to me.  I find myself liking them, loving them. I'm deeply grateful for their strengths, many of which do not come naturally to me.  Their goodness rubs off my rough edges.  

I notice they're happy.  They believe they are doing what God wants them to do.  I wonder how they can be so confident and satisfied...but I also wonder, if I can't seem to find what He wants, why not try to believe that maybe, just maybe I can't find it because this is it.  

And when I think that I'm happier.  When some of those rough edges get rubbed off I am happier still.  

Is this your trick Alaska?  It's a good one.

Yours truly, 

Sarah


Comments

Tahlia said…
You make me want to blog! You nail it every time!
chasehensel said…
One of the things I like about traveling by bicycle is that if forces you to depend upon the kindness of strangers. You get stuck, things happen. And what I find most humbling is the kindness of people who I would say aren't like me at all. I mean you sort of expect people like you, whatever that is, to be, well, like you, and help etc. But people who don't seem to be that much like you at all, in some ways, and yet turn out to be "road angels" really make me think about the whole "like me/not like me" thing. Oh, and you have very neat parents.

Popular posts from this blog

Taking Back Alaska

My truth about "pretty"

my broken heart