When Sarah says she "grew up,” it is only in the technical sense. Sure, she's gotten older and developed an ever-increasing desire for sensible footwear. But with almost half-a-century's worth of experience being human, she stands flat-footed at 4 feet, 11-and-three-quarters inches. And unless osteoporosis changes that, they will pry that ¾ of an inch out from her cold, dead fingers. It’s the only thing that makes it possible to keep the height on her driver’s license listed as 5’0’’ and do it with a clean conscience.

All this she blames on a lifelong dairy allergy. If she learned nothing else from the commercials growing up, it’s that milk does a body good. And not having milk means you’ve got a lock on the superlative for “Most Likely to Hem Every Pair of Pants You Own Until Jesus Returns.” Maybe even after that. There was this point about 9 months before she was born when God must’ve gathered the angels ‘round and said, “Hey, come see. I’m about to make an Italian that can’t eat cheese. Really mix things up. It’ll be great.”

She shares her life in the upstate of South Carolina with her husband Matthew and their daughter Julia. She thinks it's just about the greatest thing that God has given her the opportunity to write about His beauty and the wonder of His grace.