Sarah Bahiraei

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Sarah Bahiraei

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Sarah is a Midwesterner who hopped a plane to Turkey in 2014 with a one-way ticket in hand. She lives there with her husband and baby. She writes about her faith, immigration, and living in the in-between. Read more.

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Last week I shared how I wanted to carry peace into the new year. These last few years have brought neck-breaking upheaval in many forms to our family. The rug seems to always pull out from under our feet as our reality changes near daily. When trying to find balance on rocky ground, peace feels like the first thing to crumble. This year I want to fight to hold on to that.

On New Year’s Day, we pulled into an empty town square after running errands all morning so Esther could run around a little. The streets were quiet, everyone sleeping off last night’s festivities. But here in the square, hundreds of pigeons were swooping from the tops of the corrugated roofs down to the lot where we stood. We watched as a man came out from one of the shops with a cigarette hanging from his mouth and a large scoop in his hand, scattering corn and seeds on the ground for the birds. Once he was safely inside his shop, the pigeons flew down, only the beating of their wings making any sound. We stood there silently, memorized by their swirling, synchronized patterns so close to us their wings almost grazing the tops of our heads.

A 2022 blessing: May your dreams so desperately prayed for come true this year. May your circumstances resolve and the waiting end. May your arms open wide enough to carry both joy and grief—and hope, for hope is the needle that bides it all together. But mostly this year, may there be unexplainable peace, mercies new every morning, and grace upon grace upon grace 🌱

Merry Christmas, friends. May God’s peace fill your hearts and homes this new year. 🌟

Like holiday music, I appreciate snow in small doses. Three days before Christmas Day is fine with me 😜

Throwback to Midwest summers, sun, and wide open meadows 🌾 ☀️

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