Who is Sara Duffey?


Like us all, I too wear many hats. (Often way too many of them.)

Wife. Stay-at-home mommy. Entrepreneur. Homemaker. Sauce fanatic. Jesus follower. Giant goober. Pro makeup artist. Living room dance-party champion. Big-dog lover. Fashionista extraordinaire. Writer. Aspiring foodie. Distraction Queen. Children’s ministry director. Hollywood gossip junkie. Beauty coach. Dancing with the Stars super-fan. Extra cool grade-school classroom volunteer. Big time dreamer.

Whew. And would you believe I even debated adding a few more? But that seemed to be seriously hovering in over-kill territory. So I'll stop.

Well, since it’s not particularly easy to actually KNOW someone after reading a paragraph made up solely of one and two word phrases, I figured I’d throw you a bone and give you a few actual, real paragraphs.

With real sentences.

By then you’ll REALLY know me. Well – a little more anyway.

Let’s start at the beginning.

Though I do have some very fond memories of my early days, I have hard ones too... My parents got divorced when I was young. Still in single digits. And to be truthful, divorce was much less common then. It wasn't a norm like it is now. In fact I felt quite abnormal. I always envied my friends with “real” families... Because I often felt like mine wasn’t.

When I was 12, my father was diagnosed with brain cancer. Though given just months to live, he fought and he fought - like a rock star, for a year and a half. Until he had nothing left. And in the end – it took his life. My dad died when I was just a freshman in high school. It broke my heart. Into a million pieces. And left a giant void. One that I spent years trying to fill...

The next several years did not get any easier. Amidst struggling with all the normal teen angst - trying to figure out who I was, and where the heck I might fit, in this crazy world, I was also trying to process losing my everything. How does one process death? To be honest, I still don’t really know.

If that wasn’t challenging enough, tack on being crazy-bullied, teased, and finding my value in all the wrong places. Mush it all together and you have a recipe for some seriously yucky years. Bleh.

{Hang with me though – there’s good stuff coming, I promise.}

Though my father’s death was the first traumatic loss I experienced, it wouldn’t be the last. In my 20’s I walked through another massive blow. A horrific car accident took the person who had become the closest thing to a father figure my brother and I had. He was my cousin, but in all fairness, that title feels rather puny, because he played such a significant role in my life. His loss truly crushed me. I was SO angry with God. Furious. It took me a long time to accept that God’s plan was perfect even though it wasn’t mine.

With the onset of my 30’s the losses continued in a way I would have never fathomed. However, this time, it wasn’t through death. To be honest, the season of trauma I walked through in my 30’s was the worst I’ve ever experienced. It turned my whole world upside down. Many times. I am surprised I actually made it to the other side. There were moments I thought I wouldn’t. But that’s a story for another time.

I wish I could say that after that minor detour in suck-ville, my life is now transformed -- into a giant field of roses, cotton candy and unicorns. (haha) That my tears, pain and “poopiness” are a thing of the past.

And that I rode off into the sunset in my shiny, red, convertible cabriolet. (I always wanted one of those.)

But that’s not how life is. We all ebb and flow. And this is a good thing. Without the desolate valleys we’d never appreciate the magnificence of a mountain top. In college, I found one. I discovered God. It changed my world. Has it been peachy-keen ever since? Oh my goodness no. (This you know by now!) But God has given me some pretty cool things…

My husband was the first person to show me how God loves me. He changed my existence. We have a beautiful daughter, Bella. I love her so. More than I knew was even humanly possible. God has used being a wife and a mom to transform my life and heart in SO many ways. Namely, he’s shown me himself... How lost I am without him and how much he loves me -- in spite of my 53,760 shortcomings. (I’ve counted)

You know - in my younger years, I used to think I had arrived. Not in a haughty way. In that – I thought I really understood myself, my struggles, my hurts and my fears. And in defense of 25 year old me, I did… understand the me that I knew at the time. And I had no problem sharing this “me” – warts and all, with the world around me. Because, the things I struggled with hadn’t almost destroyed me. Nor had I been deeply scrutinized, chastised and condemned for them. (This all happened much later in my life.) I felt like they were fairly common, relatable, “socially acceptable” struggles and I could still keep them at bay – which gave me a sense of control and normalcy. So it was safe. I was safe.

But then – boy did I get a slice of humble pie. Walking through a season of unimaginable valleys will humble anyone. In a way nothing else can. It changed who I am -- to core. It broke me.

But God has carried me. He’s put me back together, piece by piece. Over and over again. And he still is. Every day. And you know what? I like the post-crud-season me better.

I’m different.

I see things differently now. I’m ok with the fact that I don’t know everything and I certainly don’t understand it. Because I know the One who does. And that’s all that matters.

The more I grow - the more I realize how much growing I have to do.

Xoxo... Sara

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