Annie Peterson

Philos Sophie

2012-01-19T23:31:00.003-06:00

I guess you might say I went back to college today.

Does a night class and a weekend class at a local community college count? I suppose it does.

On a fairly last minute whim (and as a result of my other class option getting canceled), I decided to take a Philosophy course that is required for graduation at the school where I plan on receiving my degree.

Philosophy. The word itself means "love of wisdom." How awesome is that?

I preached to my windshield the whole drive home. When I look at the class, I'm excited for myself. I take it as a personal challenge to search the Scriptures and learn from the Lord. When I look at my classmates, I'm burdened to pray. I can't imagine being presented this material without a firm believe in the God of all truth.

Back to "love of wisdom." I have to admit, I'm just a little giddy over thinking about how by that definition, Solomon, and Paul, and David in his pursuit of the love of the Lord were philosophers.

My professor told us today that the point of studying philosophy was to find out what we think, to find out who we are.

How very empty.

I want to go the way the men of old - my heritage in Christ - went. They had a revelation of truth, and loved that wisdom of God. They met a Man, in whom was hidden all the riches of wisdom and knowledge, and they loved Him.

I am so very thankful tonight for that which is. With Him is no variation or shadow due to change. His truth is just that - truth. It will not change. Man's puny opinions don't affect it or change it. A class puts a label of "ethics" or "morals" on something and misses the reality of it:

The law of the Lord is perfect, reviving the soul;
The testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple;
The commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes...
{Psalm 19}

Measuring

2012-01-10T21:18:00.003-06:00

Tomorrow I wake up to a new decade.

Most birthdays cause you to separate your life into years. The year I graduated high school, the year I went to college, the year I'll get married, and so on and so forth. But this time, this 2012, I can't get decade off my mind.

In a week I'm ducking back into school with a long-term goal that I expect to take up most of this next ten years. Perhaps this is what is making tomorrow feel so big. Or maybe 2 is just better than 1.

I feel as if I'm standing on a wide cliff, overlooking the largest expanse, wind whipping my hair back, with noise around and the quiet of God within. I couldn't tell you exactly what sits on that expanse, or which place I'll be one year...ten years from now.

The Lord has massaged my heart into this dreaming. Gently, bit by bit, he's drawn me a little farther, and a little farther, like a sheep learning a new path. Six months ago, ten years sounded like my whole life. Today, I see Jesus in a carpenter shop, spending his "twenties" in a small town with rough hands.

I imagine Him abiding. Working hard. Having the hope. Filled with joy, knowing that His Father works all things together for the good of the one He has called to His purpose.

Vingt. Viente. Venti. Twenty.

Good morning, Twenties. May you be filled with the zeal of the Lord, the knowledge of His will, the love of God, and the patience of Christ.

Consider the Lilies

2011-05-31T19:37:00.004-05:00

Alright, this is going to sound strange, so I'm going to come right out and say it.

I realized yesterday morning that I have been envious of flowers.

Goodness gracious me. You'll only read that sort of thing here.

Yesterday was a holiday, in case you forgot to celebrate. I celebrated by sleeping in (woohoo), drinking Kona Vanilla Macadamia Nut coffee (woohoo), and sitting in a sunny kitchen with my Bible and my journal. I think I've explained this phenomenon before, but it's quite a special occasion when I simply sit with my journal and write down my thoughts. I have a need for speed (goodness gracious me - that's my new saying, can you tell? - if that isn't the truth) and the fact that my brain goes faster than my hand can scroll frustrates me. Thus the plight of a journal that contains about 10% of the material it's meant to.

I sat, captured by Psalm 63.

My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food,
And my mouth will praise you with joyful lips,
When I remember you upon my bed,
And meditate on you in the watches of the night;
For you have been my help,
And in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.
My soul clings to you;
Your right hand upholds me.

"My soul will be satisfied." There it was, plain and simple. Satisfaction. In the midst of work, and swirl, and fatigue, and a special Get-Better diet, and friends moving away, and "What is my destiny?" questions: my soul will be satisfied. That was worth pulling out the journal.

Then, when I pulled out the journal, I wrote more than that. I started jotting down the little things about my morning, things to notice, things to remember and be thankful for. Cream in my coffee, and the prospect of a quiet afternoon at a coffee shop, and a small victory over offense. Then, out of nowhere:

"Why do I not have the patience for gardening?"

Gardening? Through the French doors to our back deck, I could see our neighbor-boy, who helps us plant and take care of the beauty we have little-to-no knowledge of what to do with. He was planting a row of garden, and I realized that I don't envy him at all. In fact, I have absolutely no idea how he enjoys doing that.

{Christina is staring at her computer right now in disbelief. For the record, Christina, I love your roses.}

What a horrid thing to say: "I dislike gardening." Literally, stand me next to a patch of ground and ask me about it, and I want nothing more than to go for a run, a sprint even, right then and there. See, I told you this was going to sound strange. But it was real, oh so real.

How could a girl possibly find herself sitting in a sunny kitchen, looking out at petite impatiens, and overflowing pots of white gold, and the crown of them all: orange, trumpeting calla lilies, and think to herself that she is envious of flowers?

Flowers do nothing. Maybe this is not news to you. They get to be beautiful, and adored, and enjoyed, and they put not even a miniscule amount of effort into it. Completely and totally, they are cared for. Whether by your watering hand, or by the Lord pouring sweet drops of life on them, they are given life and they display it beautifully.

I felt the whisper: "Consider the lilies." The pages fell to Matthew 6, and the brims of my eyes had liquid company.

"And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?" {ESV - Matthew 6}

In the past week, I have been feeling the pull to sit and love, and be loved. One of the most frustrating parts of being sick is that I want to go so very badly. We've discussed this, I have a need for speed. I want to move to Southeast Asia, and travel to Vermont, and drive down the street to play with my nephews, but some nights I just can't. It is hard for me to sit, and believe that Jesus loves me, this I know, because the Bible tells me so. Not because I earned it. He just loves me. And if I spend this season recovering, and enjoying the love of the Lord, and loving Him back, that is successful.

Back to the flowers and my kitchen: I hope I'm not the only one who seems to get revelation while writing. Having had such experience, I did what any slightly-tech-connected 21st century young adult would do. I pulled up twitter. Out typed: "Consider the lilies, how He takes great care for them." Next? What comes next? Still sitting in my bright red chair, a bit of coffee left to get cold: "Consider the lilies of His heart, how He takes great care of them."

Then I thought to myself: Wait a minute, is that even Biblical?

Hallelujah for Tim Reimherr, because my next thought was a song: "I am the rose, I am the lily..." Well, it must be Biblical.

Sure enough, "He grazes among the lilies." Me. You. We have a caretaker, an overseer, a provider.

As sentimental as it sounds, you and I are "lilies" before the eyes of the Lord. Delicate creations that He takes personal responsibility for "clothing." Think the clothes of joy, the clothes of salvation, the clothes of strength...

So if you're like me, struggling to simply live the truth that the greatest of these is love...

consider the lilies.

Blessed is He whose Help is the Lord.

2011-05-18T18:41:00.002-05:00

What a journey this is. What a journey.

Yesterday, I drove up and down my favorite Kansas City street, one lined with overhanging trees and not guarded by quite so fierce a speed limit. Suddenly in a different world, my thoughts wander to a conclusion: "Pain doesn't kill you. When you lean upon the Lord..."

Christina and I text back and forth through our week, finding comfort that we're not the only one learning what it means to press on toward the goal, through underbrush of trials, and despite the pain, and past the bog of doubt. He who promised is faithful...

And I sometimes sit in a room full of people and feel like I'm the only one, until the whisper of the Holy Spirit: "I am here. I am here, and I know."

Then suddenly, there's a phone call and I hear that a dear friend's world has been ripped in two, and my pain seems so small, but I still believe it's true for the both of us: "Pain doesn't kill you. When you lean upon the Lord..."

Sometimes there's a shame in admitting to being in pain. It's easy to believe the lie that you're a failure at victorious living, simply for the fighting to keep your eyes wide open, turned toward the Bright and Morning Star.

But the fight...the fight does not make you a failure. The trial is a learning process, the trial cannot be wished away, the existence of trial is thoroughly Biblical.

"Count it all joy, my brothers, when you face trials of various kinds."
"Though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials..."
"For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead."

It is not about the pain, but it is about the hope. The Hope who is alive. The Hope to whom I lift my eyes, my Help. Always a Rock, strong on my behalf. He nevers fails, He is ever strong.

I am thankful. Thankful, for He is teaching me to lean upon Him. Lean hard, friends. Lean completely.

Hope.

2011-04-30T16:49:00.005-05:00

***I was thinking this morning about how writing in my journal could possibly be the best way to chronicle what the Lord has taught me through this time; what if lovely blog-readers don't want to hear all about being sick? But alas, I was made for speed, and while I love keeping a journal - the look of pages filled with writing and memories of the sweet touch of the Lord - the fact that my hand can't loop letters as fast as my brain thinks of words constantly frustrates me. Typing lets my fingers fly. I suppose a balance between the two is not so bad, eh?***

Imagine floating with ocean on every side. You know you want to get to the far-off island, the sandy shore, but you have no paddle, and you know you can't swim all that way. All you can see is water, all around you. The temptation is to succumb to hopelessness, to the fear that because you cannot pull yourself, you shall never arrive. Wind is beginning to blow the blanket around you into hills then mountains of rushing energy.

And then, in a moment, you realize that you are not on the flimsy raft you thought was your seat. All of a sudden, you don't need a paddle. No, no. You're on a sturdy craft, with sureness in its path, leaving loneliness in its wake. There is a Man in the stern, with His arms outstretched, and you hear Him say, "Peace, be still..." and you know. You know. This is not only your journey, it is His, and He is the great Navigator.

I remember the moment, laying in my bed, and all of a sudden knowing I had a choice about what to believe. I am made to tell the ends of the earth about the glory of the Son of God, but right now it's hard to walk down the stairs - how will I get to the nations?

In the midst of sickness, it is so tempting to believe that maybe this is what you are, this will define you. I have had so many conversations with people who have been through chronic illness; to be perfectly honest, that theme of "One day, I just couldn't get out of bed" is my worst fear, even though over the past week or two I have noticed a significant difference in the way I feel. The past few days, I've rolled out of bed, walked to the bathroom, and breathed a sigh of thankfulness that I was able to get up. When my days began being defined by how out of breath I get walking up the stairs, tunnel vision started to set in.

Praise God, His light breaks through. In my heart, these five months have turned from a battle with illness to a battle for my calling, my destiny. Will I be like Abraham, who did not consider his body, which was good as dead (and my goodness, that's a worse situation than I'm in!) but held fast to the promise of God? Do I truly believe that it is God, the KING, who has declared me to be a healer in His power and a messenger? And if God is truly the one who has said it, is it not unchangeable, firm, an unwavering promise? It is impossible for God to lie. What measly little virus can get in the way of the everlasting word of God?

As it turned out, this battle with unbelief began before I got sick, but the physical struggle brought the internal one into the light. I had begun to believe I was "just" a girl, "just" an employee, "just" a story. In the swirl of busyness, I forgot the goal I was working towards, the high calling being spoken from heaven. God has been lifting my eyes to see that I cannot forget, I cannot be satisfied with something less than His fullness.

So I stand, and I know that I don't have to swim to my calling, but I have to believe. Belief. Oh, my friends, unbelief is a liar, a thief. Do not let it steal from you - whatever it is whispering to you, do not put your trust in anything other than the faithfulness of God. If He has said you are Esther, or Abraham, or Joseph, then you are. No matter what the sickness, what the past, what the brokenness.

No sickness can change the unchangeable word of God. No hardship can separate me from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus, my Lord.

Companionship

2011-04-20T22:51:00.005-05:00

I've mulled over, written and re-written in my head, and tried to make a verbal outline of this post to my sister. At this point I say: let's just jump in and see what happens.

God is close.

One of the most poignant struggles of being physically sick is that of loneliness, at least for me. The simple fact that you are the only person experiencing what is going on in your body is hard enough. I mean, it's obvious, but think about it: you're the only one who knows how you feel. Other people have experienced the same virus and have a similar experience, but day in-day out, I am the only one who knows exactly how I feel.

Actually, that's not true. Herein lies the beauty.

There is no one closer to you than the Holy Spirit. I don't understand, how is it He can be in and through and around me? He fills the spaces in my heart I didn't even know were there and soaks the places I did. He knows my thoughts before I think them, my words before I speak them, and He knows. He knows. He actually knows how I feel.

There is this deep desire in us to walk with someone. Through excitement, through adventures, through pain, through sickness...we want a companion. I'll be honest: now would be an awesome time for a knight in shining armor. I have friends where that is part of their story - in sickness, even specifically with Mono, the Lord used the experience to create an opening for someone to be strong on their behalf, or just sit with them in the long days of fatigue.

There were days I wish I could be carried downstairs because it was hard to walk, but do you know what? I have noticed in this season that the fire of physical trial strips a sort of veil from the Scriptures you didn't even realize was there. All of a sudden you realize: they are very, very practical. One of the most beautiful parts of the Word is how there can be so many layers to one sentence, one passage. Try reading this verse practically:

Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
The Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint,
and to him who has no might he increases strength.
Even youths shall faint and be weary,
and young men shall fall exhausted;
but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint.

There may not have been physical hands lifting me or a tangible arm to lean on, but I tell you: there have been moments where the presence of the Lord physically making my body move has been so real that He may as well have been standing right there.

No matter how close a friend, or a man, could get; no matter how much they care, how much they want to know how I'm doing, they could not come this close. A husband could see me wake in the morning and kneel next to my bed begging for strength for that day, but he could not provide it.

The Most Faithful, the Most High, the Creator of the ends of the earth and of the intricate cells of my body, He has given power to this faint one and increased strength when I literally have no might. I still look for the day when I will run and not be weary, or take a walk and not be faint, but that day is coming, for it is written.

God desires to walk with us. Immanuel, God with us, that is who Jesus is.

Come and walk with me, Jesus.

The Schoolroom

2011-04-19T22:18:00.004-05:00

I never, ever expected to find myself in the classroom of illness.

I've always been resilient. Always. It seems that maybe part of this whole journey has been to free me from an overabundance of self-confidence of the prideful sort. Maybe, I'm meant to sing a song like Paul's:

For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself...But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.

This classroom has held many varied lessons.

Like the arithmetic dividend that Me minus Great Works for God still equals His unfailing, unequivocal love.

Like the vocabulary list, where the meaning of "So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day" is learned through daily, practical prayer.

Like the history books, where you can read of Abraham and Paul and Esther and the myriads of others - all those great men and women of faith - who have done this before. Every one, they have all done this.

And the most vibrant lesson? The one that happens moment by moment, whispered prayer by whispered prayer? That of the Teacher. That He is more than a teacher, that these are more than lessons on a page. That He is life to my bones, and companion in my sufferings. Or, more accurately, I am a companion in His, and He has already bought the victory.

Dreaming

2011-02-25T17:46:00.002-06:00

Riding.

Fields with Jesus. Forever.

Red telephone booths in Trafalgar Square.

Une conversation entière en Français, dans la France du sud.

Visit an underground church.

Picking those babies up out of their Romanian cribs and holding them, just holding them.

Tell those Sudanese babies that His Name is Jesus, and He loves them with everything He has.

See someone raised from the dead.

Singing my newborn a song for the very first time.

Play Chopin's Fantasie Impromptu.

Medical school.

The Lord directs the steps of the godly.
He delights in every detail of their lives.
Psalm 37:23

Fold that Throw

2011-02-02T22:11:00.008-06:00

I was about to start this post by saying that it is 10:10pm, but then the clock turned to 10:11pm. 10:11 is a whole level of cool lower, but I suppose I'm telling you anyways, aren't I?

This reminds me of the fact that my darling niece's clock is broken. BROKEN. It was with great heartbreak that we found this fact out today. Glorie is one of those good kids, the ones who stay in their bed until "seven zero zero." Today her quiet rest was under command to last until "three one five." When she didn't come down at 3:15, my sister went up to check on her and found a teary-eyed punkin' laying on her tummy, little pink alarm clock pulled to just in front of her face, staring. She looked up and moaned: "It's taking so long." The time read 12:33, and had read that same thing for what I assume was the longest quiet rest in the history of forever to that little brain. One Two Three Three! Oh, the injustice of it all.

I didn't make my bed today, and when it was time to get back in it, I found that it just wouldn't do. I quickly assessed the [messy] situation and decided that if I pulled the covers up, then turned them down properly, I would feel much more relaxed upon entry. As I tossed the excess throw aside and moved the computer, a thought came to me: I will never be able to do this to a man once I'm married.

"Honey, can you get up? I need to make the bed."

I just have this feeling he'd say no. Just plain no. And then I have to submit, because that's what wives do, right?

Sigh. This is neither bad news nor good news, I'm just saying that I probably won't be able to do ridiculous things like make a bed at bedtime for no apparent reason at all, because...well, because it's ridiculous.

But I did it anyways, and I'm much more comfortable, thank you very much.

*****

On a health note, things are looking up! I've been waiting for a feeling, the one where it feels like spring deep on the inside, like things are coming alive after a long sleep, and it started yesterday. Actually, Mr. Falkner* prayed for me on Saturday and Sunday I woke up with a definite change in the way I felt. The overarching heavy feeling in my muscles had faded, so I suppose the healing process has been happening for a while! The Lord's touch is so sweet.

I spent the first part of the week completely content sitting in bed, getting up very minimally - such as when my stomach was about to eat itself for need of a cheese stick, that sort of thing. It wasn't even that I felt so overwhelmingly tired or unable to move, but just that I had no need to move, which is strange for me. But yesterday I sat up, downstairs, out of my pajamas (for they needed a wash) and watched a dreamy white landscape form outside. The light pouring through the windows felt like just a sign of what was beginning to go on inside. Yesterday it felt like the Lord was tenderly knitting me back together.

This morning I actually left the house (to go to my sister's house for there were warm cookies awaiting me), wearing jeans. I deserve a trophy. Nevermind I got tired putting on the jeans and laid back on the bed for half an hour waiting for a ride around the corner. It was a success all the same! Tomorrow, I may get visitors. And Jackson's chocolate chip cookies. Yay for me!

*edited to add: I have to name-drop, because everyone who knows Mr. Falkner read that, sat back, let out a deep sigh of joy and had this sort of wonderful calm feeling that happens when one meets a real-deal father in the Lord. :)

Giving It All

2011-02-01T09:00:00.002-06:00

I've been reading a novel by Randy Alcorn called Safely Home. To say it's a page turner is an understatement - I think I read 200 pages in 36 hours. It's set mostly in China, with many of the main characters being part of the underground church there.

Reading this book has moved my heart so much to pray for the persecuted church.

"Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body." ~Hebrews 13:3 (ESV)

I really think we are called to practically pray for the persecuted church, and to pray for them often.

This morning Dave Sliker tweeted a question: If you could only take 6 chapters of the Bible with you to prison, which six would you take? This question caught my heart, my attention. It is wonderful to love, and by the grace of God, I love these words of life. It took me a few minutes to figure out my answer, but as I picked my supposed six (Ephesians 1&2, 2 Corinthians 4&5, John 15&16), I began to agree with my sister's response to the question: "I just couldn't do it, I think I would die." It feels traumatizing to even think of only having such a small portion of the living Word of God, but I couldn't help but think of our brothers and sisters all across the world who have never had a Bible, who have ever only read a few chapters of it. Lord, break in.

Amy wrote a book about a 3rd century martyr, Perpetua, and every time I have read it (because, oh yes, I have read it several times :) I am forced to ask myself the question: "Am I ready for that? Am I ready to die for the sake of my King?" The answer is usually a peace, the reality that should the Lord ask that of me, He will be there to help my feet walk the road, help my heart sing in the process, there to welcome me home.

The fact that we live in a free country in February of 2011 does not exempt us from preparing our hearts, or asking ourselves: where is my home, who is my King, and do I long for him above anything and everything else?

Cozy

2011-01-31T13:40:00.004-06:00

The whole world is bracing for the storm of the century. I read an NPR...

Hold it right there. I have a question, concerning the use of "a" and "an." I was a good little 3rd grader; I learned that "a" goes before a consonant and "an" goes before a vowel, but what about when you are writing letters, such an "NPR" or "LOL" or "AYKM" (AreYouKiddingMe was very present in our recent holiday celebrations, thanks to my ever-articulate sister-in-law Dorothy)? "NPR" sounds like it begins with a vowel, so it seems like sacrilege to leave a naked "a" in front of it. Oh help. Sister-in-law Dorothy would probably advise me to consult Grammar Girl on the subject. If reading Grammar Girl could make my vocabulary as effervescent as Dorothy's, I would read it all day long, but alas, I fear that it is a gift straight from heaven. I digress.

So I was reading an article on NPR (haha, outsmarted it!) about the fear of the storm, and called down to Amy from snug in my bed:

"Amy, they are really saying we should get ready for the storm! Do we need to do anything?"

A fascinating conversation followed about whether we have enough matches and why our water heater will work but our furnace won't, should our electricity go out. I doubt, but Amy's usually right, so I submit.

Oh please, let our electricity be preserved.

Amy suggested we pull a "Bear Grylls" by making a fire. I introduced her to Man vs. Wild yesterday via Netflix, and I think she's hooked.

Speaking of Netflix, with two weeks of laying in bed and laying on the couch and laying in the chair in front of the fire looming before me, I signed up for the free trial of Netflix. One of the great triumphs in my search of the Netflix vaults was finding that Man vs. Wild is indeed available for viewing. WIN! Watch out, though. Any mention of a movie, and I go to look it up on Netflix. "The Way Back" which a random facebook friend referenced last night, is not able to be watched instantly. I have no idea what that movie's about, and I probably won't ever find out now.

To sum up this post, I will say: there is one thing that a blizzard does not adversely affect, nay perhaps even enhances. That one thing is bedrest. Selah.

Returns

2011-01-26T11:40:00.002-06:00

I thought about doing a return post full of bullet points and "What Has Happened Since My Last Blog," but that would be extremely unartsy and unfeeling, wouldn't you say? Onward and upward.

It's no secret that Christina stays up later than I do, so her texts have been coming when my slumber restricts me from answering.

psst...you haven't blogged since September.

Dear God, thank you for text messages. Christina and her late night adventures recently followed the call of the Lord to the East Coast. I miss her, but one of the things I have learned in my short life is that when the Lord says to go, it is always worth it to follow. I am honestly so excited for her to experience the fruit and joy of obedience in this time. Go, Christina, go. :) :)

In other news, I'm sorry to announce that I find myself fully qualified to advise you and what to do and what not to do if you should ever (and I hope that you don't) find yourself to have mononucleosis.

DO take time off work. Today I am laying in bed, taking a full sick day for the first time since my diagnosis 6 weeks ago and I should have done this a long time ago.

DO sleep. Obviously.

If you're bored of just laying around, DO listen to a sermon. It's perfect, because you can lay there with your eyes closed, but you don't feel like you're wasting your time should you not be able to fall asleep. An added bonus is that you don't need your eyes. What I mean is, I wear glasses. I want to lie down, because my muscles are tired. Everyone knows that if you lie down with glasses on, the glasses smush into your face, and relaxation is a difficult thing to accomplish when one has something smushing into one's face. If I do something (i.e. listen to a sermon) that let's me lie down AND doesn't require my eyesight, it's a win.

DO have hope. You won't always feel this way.

Just Believe, Part 2.

2010-09-26T12:00:00.001-05:00

My brother, in my opinion, is all kinds of awesome. An electrical engineer, a helicopter pilot, a bold evangelist, an amazing father, and a singer-songwriter. Some of my sweetest memories as a little girl are of how Sam would come home at holidays and the house would be filled with music, him and his guitar singing. I treated him like a jukebox sometimes, putting in my requests for songs. Topping the list? Garth Brooks' "Belleau Wood" and Sam's very own "Just 'Cause He said So."

And we have faith that He'll never forsake us, just 'cause He said so
And we have hope that He'll take us home, just 'cause He said so
And we know that our very souls are loved, just 'cause He said so
And we know that someday pain will be no more, just 'cause He said so
And I believe it's true, just 'cause He said so

He said it, and that's enough for me. It's a child's faith that counts on a Father's honesty and on Daddy doing what child can't. I want to believe just because He said so.

You and I, we are weak human beings. We can't do it. We can't do it, folks! We want to change the world, but we have no power. (But boy oh boy, do we think we do. Pride is nastier than strep throat. On a side note, Jesus heal me!) We may be weak, but those weak folks are the ones God uses. All the glory is His!

So see...the way it works is: We have nothing. He wants to use us. We believe Him. He puts His power in us.

What I see in that passage from Mark is a declaration from Peter to Jesus: "I really believe You. I've decided: You are who You say You are, and I really believe You." Then, then, Jesus had an open door to start telling Peter and the rest of the motley crew the reality of what redemption would look like. Notice that word "plainly." I want to hear from God that way! I want the invitation of belief in my heart that says: "Tell me anything, Jesus...I want to know and I believe what You say."

See, Peter still had some struggles [like me]. Jesus had to set him straight and boil it down: "STOP thinking like man. Believe the things of God." Then, then, came the answer to Peter's (and our) question of how to give everything for Jesus. Friends, I want to give everything. I want to believe, I want to trust, I want to live totally and completely for Jesus, I want to hold nothing back. I want to spend everything. "Take up your cross and follow me" is the handbook for that style of living, and I want the heart of belief that welcomes the teaching of the Lord on this. I want the seal of approval from the Lord that says "I see Your heart and that You really want me, and I am going to teach You how to give it all."

Belief, trust, faith...as faith is cultivated in your heart, God has a larger and larger blank canvas to work with. Seeing as my desire it be painted by the Great Artist's hand, I want to offer as big a canvas to Him as I can. There needs to be lots of room for His signature in that corner, because it's all about Him.

I want to walk with Him, like all those folks in Hebrews 11. There are moments, though, where I tell the Lord honestly: "I don't know how! I know I need to trust You more, but I don't knowhow!" Well, faith without works is dead, so I am asking the Lord for specifics of actions I can take to walk in faith and belief and trust. I don't have it, and I need more from the Lord. He gives, though. Oh, He gives generously.

I want to receive. He will walk with me and talk with me like He did with the disciples, and many, many great men and women of faith have walked before me. I pray that I will see the fruit of faith in my life, and if you ask, you will see it in yours. Oh that the glory of the Lord would shine from our lives.

Let me leave you with this quote from Oswald Chambers in his writings on the Sermon on the Mount:

Faith is our personal confidence in a Being whose character we know, but whose ways we cannot trace by common sense. By the reasonings of faith is meant the practical outworking in our lives of implicit, determined confidence in God. Common sense is mathematical; faith is not mathematical, faith works on illogical lines. Jesus Christ places the strongest emphasis on faith and especially on the faith that has been tried. To have faith tests us for all we are worth; we have to stand in the commonsense universe in the midst of things that conflict with our faith, and place our confidence in the God whose character is revealed in Jesus Christ...most of us are pagans in a crisis; we think and act like pagans. Only one out of a hundred is daring enough to bank his or her faith in the character of God.

The golden rule for understanding in spiritual matters is not intellect, but obedience.

Just Believe, Part 1

2010-09-25T17:53:00.004-05:00

Abraham believed God, and it was accounted to Him as righteousness.

After going to bed quite late last night with battle wounds from a late night "Rolfball" game, I woke up at 5:40 to an invitation from the Lord, saying He wanted to tell me something. To be perfectly honest, I was tired. I laid there awake for a few minutes, until a specific Scripture dropped into my heart. The first time I pulled it out and read over it, I didn't get.

Mark 8:29-36
And he asked them, "But who do you say that I am?"
Peter answered him, "You are the Christ." And he strictly charged them to tell no one about him.
And he began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things...And he said this plainly.
And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and seeing his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man."
And he called to him the crowd with his disciples and said to them, "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me...For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his life?"

Over the course of the day, this passage has steeped a bit in my heart like a good cup of tea, and I think I know a bit of what the Lord wanted to show.

A while ago I was praying for a friend of mine and the Lord showed a picture of multiple doors standing in front of her, with keys to unlock them. I asked the Lord what she needed to do to be able to unlock the doors and His answer surprised me that night and has surprised me almost every time I've thought of it since: Just believe Me. That's enough.

There is part of my heart that is still absolutely convinced that good Christians are equatable to chemical engineers. There must be an incredibly complex formula to pleasing God and doing His work, and to understand it I am obviously going to need a Master's Degree in being a Christian. "Just believe" sometimes just sounds too simplistic.

Enter Keith Green.

About mid-week last week, I was sitting in a undeniably funky funk. I had a feeling my own sin was the source of it, but was having trouble jumping over the "I'm a failure" hurdle into King David's "Man, I messed up but God sure loves me!" field.

My sister had to go into work for a few minutes, and after asking the Lord what I was supposed to do, I went with her for the sake of the piano. My sister's job is my only piano source at this point; there is a lovely grand that is open for me to play any time I am there. We walked in and I ran straight for the piano room. With little-to-no plan of what I was going to play, my eye caught the "Keith Green Ministry Years" music books and I dived for them. Over the next few minutes, I played that piano louder than I have in a long time and sang my heart out.

Create in me a clean heart, O God...Restore unto me the joy of Thy salvation...I wanna die and let you give Your life to me so I might live...I want to take Your Word and shine it all around...When Your eyes are on this child, Your grace abounds to me...

The Holy Spirit did something, right there at that piano. I just sat and my heart felt as if it would burst from thankfulness for lives like Keith Green's and King David's. I take great encouragement from the fact that men who walked in power doing the Lord's calling on their life went through five million plus moments of "is it just me, or am I a complete and total failure?" and "I can't do this at all...it's got to be all You, God."

If you haven't heard Keith's music I highly recommend jumping onto Grooveshark.com and listening. (mash down HERE to go straight there). I read No Compromise a few weeks ago and it absolutely gripped me. I think I got through the whole thing in 2 or 3 days; I just could not shake the feeling that what God did in Keith's life is significant to understanding what He wants to do in mine. Maybe it was something about the fact that He was just some passionate kid who played the piano...that sounds familiar. :)

Before I read the book, I only listened to Keith's happy, upbeat, "Go Preach the Gospel!" songs. His heart-wrenchingly honest songs didn't catch my ear. Until, that is, I found myself in a desperate place where my pride had gotten cracked enough to say "Oh boy, this is going to have to be all God." Read the book, folks. I see Keith as someone who walked radically and boldly as who God made him to be and affected thousands upon millions of people because he obeyed, but he reminds me so much of David of the Psalms, because this radical man had struggles and had to repent and messed up and saw his own weakness.

Today, with the passage from Mark, these sorts of thoughts began to feel full-circle. (Bear with me, I know this is getting long! All this blogging's been pent up for months. ;)

Keith Green and King David, they were messed up.

BUT! They changed the world.

They believed God.

Belief. It's enough.

Part 2 tomorrow on how that Mark passage has anything to do with all of this and how setting your heart to believe is like sending heaven an invitation to invade your life.

Lub Dub

2010-08-25T20:01:00.003-05:00

Laura and I grew up together. I wasn't allowed to have Barbies, but I was allowed to play with them, and Laura's house was where I did just that. Hours upon hours in her backyard pretending to be princesses; probably days worth of time hiding in her basement pretending we were fugitives. I remember Polly Pocket (the real kind...not that rubber doll they sell now), and Nintendo 64 (her dad would rent Mario Kart...always a fave). Music school together, bagels with cream cheese together (her mom made the best snacks). Hey, once we even made our own salad dressing!

This is all off topic. But sweet! Laura, I love you.

Laura, if you were to sit her down and interrogate her, could tell you easily how much we played doctor as little girls. "Lots" or "Too much" or "OHMYWORD Anna was obsessed" would probably be her answer. Let's just call Laura my first patient.

Now, I have real patients.

No, I'm not a doctor. No, I'm not a nurse. Lemme 'splain. No, lemme sum up.

The reason I moved back to Kansas City was to get my Nurse Assistant certification and work as a Medical Assistant to see if I want to keep going in a medical career.

The Lord has been good to me. (Oh, SO good!) I got the job at the practice I was hoping for, and today was my third day of training.

I am in love. I love wearing a stethoscope around my neck. I love learning fancy words for things. Tomorrow, I bet I will love pulling medicine into syringes (INJECTION CLASS...duh duh duh). I love (love love LOVE) listening to a baby's heart. I cannot even describe the preciousness of this tiny one, her chest smaller than my hand, rising and falling more quickly than I ever breathe. It was so absolutely and completely surreal to put a stethoscope in my ears, the other end on her chest, and listen to that piece of the Lord's artwork going strong inside.

When I moved to Tacoma, I was astounded at the way the Lord answered my prayers. I had long dreamed of living there, but had somewhat forgotten and stopped asking Jesus for it. Even when I had forgotten, He hadn't, and, quite literally, my dreams came true. That is how this feels. I gave up on my medical dreams, thought they would never fit with the Lord's calling on my life. Instead, here I am...walking in His will and doing what my heart dreamed of as a little girl.

Jesus knows us, and He doesn't forget. Thank you, Lord, for You have overwhelmed me with kindness yet again.

And thank you, Laura, for being my guinea pig. :)

The Small Things

2010-07-21T00:05:00.003-05:00

My phone has a trick that, apparently, it thinks is quite funny. Sometimes I'll wake up two hours past when I was expecting to, only to find that trusty LG decided to turn off during the night. Maybe he was tired. Maybe he just took a mini vacation to Africa. I don't know...whatever it is, it makes me sleep in, which aggravates every bit of control in me.

Oh, did I say control? Oops.

This seemingly small and insignificant situation presses the huge red button marked "ANXIETY" for me. It's obviously something small, but sometimes I hardly sleep the night before something big happens. I mean, if I oversleep, the world might end! Or internally combust! Or externally explode! Who knows what could happen?!

This morning I woke up to a phone turned off. At first, the disappointment. Then, an interesting prompting: "You need to trust Me that I'm going to make your alarm go off in the morning."

Now, if I were to walk up to some random person on the street and said, "Excuse me, God just told me He wants you to trust Him to make your alarm go off in the morning," they would look at me like I was crazy and tell me to go home. But as we have already established, this line means something to me.

I understand I am supposed to trust the Lord for the job that I need. I understand I am supposed to trust Him to provide for the car I need. And the friends, and the money, and the husband, and the children, and so on and so forth. I'm not saying this trusting process is easy, but it's easy to at least answer "Well, I'm going to trust the Lord" when someone asks "How is that [huge, massive, life-changing thing] going to happen?"

This morning, it became about the small things. After the alarm fail, it was the invite to that wedding. Then it was getting to Olathe to get my tuberculosis test read. Then it was how to get to my job tonight on time. And so on and so forth.

The small things. That verse in Philippians about not being anxious? It says to not be anxious about anything. So I found myself in the car, the rain pouring down, the clock ticking, and I threw my hands in the air (then re-grabbed the steering wheel quick) and said "Okay, I trust You!"

I am absolutely and totally convinced that Jesus cares about the small things. We take His command to not worry about what we're going to eat and what we're going to wear as protection against starvation and homelessness, but when I read that verse I'm struck by the fact that food and clothes are our most basic needs. We put on clothes every day, we eat food every day. Jesus is intricately involved in our every day.

I want to spend my days putting everything into His hands. Every single little thing. It's not okay to separate my "big trust issues" from my "small life circumstances." It's all His. I want to refuse anxiety any small crevice in my heart. If I leave it the small places, how am I going to tell it to get out of the big places?

There is no room for anxiety in Jesus' heart, and there is no room for it in my days. The little things, they are His too. I'm talking practicals here, folks. That you will have time to eat lunch between your meetings. That if the printer isn't working, it's all going to be okay anyways. That if you have to pay for that TB test again, so what? It's the Lord's money anyways.

I have known for a while that Jesus is taking me through another trust intensive course. Honestly, I have been stumped. How do I trust? What does it look like? I know the words, but my heart wants to know the movements! Oh, HELP! I think this morning may have been a part of the key - refuse anxiety any place. Give worry no thought, no space. My inheritance is peace - about my time, about my money, about my phone calls, about my texts, about my calendar, about the cake I want to bake. PEACE. If there's not peace, something is wrong.

Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times in every way.

-2 Thessalonians 3:16

Let me close with some quotes from Practicing the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence. Walking with Jesus is an every day, every moment relationship. Don't put it in a box, let Him be part of everything.

Brother Lawrence pointed out that he spoke very simply and frankly to God. He asked for help with the things as he needed it, and his experience had been that God never failed to respond.

In the beginning, Brother Lawrence declared that a little effort was needed to form the habit of continuously conversing with God, telling Him everything that was happening. But after a little careful practice, God's love refreshed him, and it all became quite easy.

Nothing is too small.

BFS

2010-07-16T12:49:00.007-05:00

This week, I became an employed human being. It really is a wonderful thing, you know, this working thing. I get to spend my days with a family I have long hailed as one of my favorites - the Bohlender tribe.

One of the things that I have come away with, after mornings of dancing with little girls and lunchtimes of sweeping, cleaning, feeding, and cleaning again is this tidbit of information:

One day, when I have seven to twelve children, I will have to make extremely large batches of macaroni and cheese if I ever hope to have any myself. There has been a running theme through lunchtimes the past couple days, and it has been that of the food I was about to put on a plate for myself instead getting eaten by another child showing up in the kitchen. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm happy that said child then has food satisfying their ravenous hunger, but at some point this girl's gotta eat.

It's something we who come from large families call "BFS." That's Big Family Syndrome, to those unacquainted with the acronym. It involves eating everything in sight very quickly, because chances are it will disappear into one of the mouths of the many other house dwellers in less than...oh look, it's gone.

Moral of the story: eat quick. And make lots of food. Nom.

Being Seen

2010-07-15T22:39:00.002-05:00

A window, looking out on a sunny Paris day. A massive bed with a fluffy white comforter and 15 fluffy white pillows. Me, melting into said pillows.

I think I'm really tired and should just go upstairs to my own bed which will probably feel more wonderful than any Paris comforter.

***

This morning, I poured the coffee, sliced the strawberries, lit the candles, and cuddled under the blanket with the book of John.

I melted into tears at this:

Then Jesus said to him, "Get up! Pick up your mat and walk." At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked...The man who was healed had no idea who it was, for Jesus had slipped away into the crowd that was there. Later Jesus found him at the temple and said to him, "See, you are well again..." John 5:8-9, 13-14

By 'melted into tears,' I mean that I was reading the story, got to the end of "Jesus found him at the temple," felt wet hot drops on my cheek and thought: "I'm crying! I'm crying? OH, JESUS!"

I hardly know how, I didn't even have time to think about the verse. It just hit my heart. He's not a miracle-machine. He really and truly cares. Jesus knew this man, He went and found him.

He went and found him.

I have no idea how I could ever write anything that would make those words more beautiful than they are.

He came and found me. He picked me up, brushed me off. He cares.

This afternoon, when I laid on the floor crying for reasons I hardly knew except that I miss Carly and I was home alone and I need that job and I'm tired and the dishes are dirty and and and, He was there. He came and found me.

Thank you for finding me, Jesus. "Here's my cup, fill it up, fill it up."

62.

2010-07-06T23:23:00.004-05:00

It's in the hazy moment, between finishing a dream and fully opening my eyes to the morning sunshine.

Sometimes I think it's the Holy Spirit's favorite moment to speak. It's as if He has a minute all to Himself, before my mind is concerned with anything else. No schedules to fuel my brain, no mirrors to catch my eye. Only Him, and His welcome into a new day.

It's one of my favorite times to hear Him speak. Something about the way it reminds me that His eye is on me, His thoughts are towards me, without me doing anything to gain them. Psalm 139 in action, I suppose:

How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
If I would count them, they are more than the sand.
I awake, and I am still with you. [ESV]

Sometimes it's a song, sometimes it's just a line. Whatever it is He says, it sets the tone for the day, clues me in to what His theme for the hour is. This morning it wasn't there right away when I woke up, so I asked: "Jesus, what's the line for today?"

You are wanted.

Wanted. What a fantastic theme for today.

I pulled myself out of bed, made my way to the coffee pot, then settled into a chair in the bright dining room. My Bible fell easily open to the page my heart has been singing for the past days, Isaiah 61. I've been given a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, I'm made to be a planting of the Lord that He might display His beauty. Under the heading of Isaiah 62, a few familiar lines are underlined in pink:

but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her,
and your land Married; [ESV]

Wanted.

In a moment of brutal honesty -- I have a day in my mind when I assume I will know that I know that I am wanted. It involves a white dress, a handsome groom, you get the picture. There is a part of me that long has mistakenly believed that when a man desires me, I will know for sure that I am desirable. I will be a chosen Bride, a won heart, and I will know.

This morning I realized that the theme of that desire is correct, I am made to be married. My value is very clearly spoken to by the pursue of a Man, but it is not the earthly man I so easily think of. Neither is the jury still out. I need not wait to know. I can know today, because of those words pulled off the page by a pink highlighter.

I am already called Married. I am already spoken for. I have already been chased, I have already been won. You and I, we are worth something. We are wanted. The Heavenly Man, He has called us His own. He wants us. The cross proves it.

It is a sweet thing to be wanted and won.

Security

2010-07-02T00:00:00.000-05:00

I think I was about twelve when I got sidelined by a kidney infection. I remember that it was a terribly hot July day, which I spent out in the sun at a church yard sale. I remember laying on my couch at home in excruciating pain, with no idea what was wrong except that there were knives in my back and I had lost my lunch. I'm sure my parents prayed for me, and I somehow drifted off to sleep, utterly exhausted by pain.

When I came to, I was resting between my parents in the front seat of my Grandma's old white Buick, about to pull away from our house for the hospital. The pain was totally gone, and I felt sleepily at peace. Thinking back over this last night, I realized: my daddy must have carried me out to the car.

You know, when I was small, I fell asleep in the car all the time. We would get home, I would wake up, but I would keep my eyes closed and act limp, just so my dad would have to carry me inside.

I thought last night about safety and reassurance. I don't know if you knew this, but I moved my life across the country again this week. Kansas City is home once more, and while moving home to family is a wonderful dynamic, it is still change. Transition. A moment where you look down and try to figure out what exactly you are standing on.

Honestly, the picture that came to my mind when I thought of the whisper of safety from the Lord was that of an emergency room. There's me, lying on the table, doctors and nurses and tubes and needles and beeps and more nurses flying around me. Near my head, though, bent low and close to my ear is my heavenly Father. From His presence, from His reassurance, comes absolute peace. All it takes is His constant voice: "I'm here, you're going to be fine." The safety of a Father. A friend of mine recently landed in the hospital and even though she is grown and on her own, what did her dad do? Rush to Tacoma, of course.

I'm carried, I'm covered, I'm watched out for. I know that no matter what streets I drive down, His hand is there. No matter what adventure He takes me on, He's coming too. Behold, what manner of love is this, that I am a child of God.

I'm safe.

Knowing

2010-07-01T01:13:00.002-05:00

You know what?

God loves me something fierce.

Sometimes I worry about a situation, how something will pan out. I get frustrated with myself, afraid that I can't make something happen. All it takes is a moment, a gentle reminder from the Holy Spirit. He's in charge. He's holding on, and His grip is tight. He's going to do what He wants to do in me.

It's like a bullet-proof jacket, His love. I've never worn one, but I imagine it feels somewhat like a life jacket. I love zipping a life jacket around me, the feeling of being held in, held together, protected. If I were to crash into the water, it's not coming off.

There's a point where you have to quit simply dodging fear and instead turn around, stare it in the face and say "You know what? You're ridiculous. My God is strong." The strongest love, the most powerful force you will ever encounter, is on your side. I wish, I so badly wish there were words to describe the fire of the love of the Creator of the ends of the earth. I want to write and write and write, just to try to find a way to say it.

There's a fire all around me, holding me in, pressing me together. He targeted me, chose me to surround. How is the burning jealousy of the Bridegroom spoken in the tender whisper of the Holy Spirit?

He is big, and His love is strong.

To Brighten Your Day

2010-06-10T17:42:00.004-05:00

My sister wrote this wondrous song about her Glorie. I figured I would let Glorie be a cute part of your day, because she makes everything better. You're welcome. :)

Simple Victory

2010-06-09T00:37:00.003-05:00

A short post today. I was inspired by Brianna to share something with you. Actually, it's a dare.

Ladies, if you are anything like me, you have fought tooth and nail with self-hatred. The thoughts, the come so easily, don't they? Comparing the size of you with the size of the girl you just passed. Always sure dropping 5 pounds would be useful. My story is for another time, but I've skirted the sidelines of disordered eating and this battle is more familiar than I want it to be.

One could write and write and write about the trap of self-hatred and the truth that vanquishes it, but for now I have one thing.

Your words are powerful. Seriously. "The tongue has the power of life and death." -Proverbs 18:21

So I challenge you to speak life.

What if, for the next month, you looked in the mirror every morning and said (out loud): "I am beautiful." It can be that simple, or you could add in an "I'm perfect just the way I am" or a "Dang, God, You did good here!" if you want to, but whatever you do, say it out loud.

Your tongue has power, use it.

Me, Crammed between two car seats.

2010-06-06T19:15:00.004-05:00

I have just arrived in Kansas City. Be still my beating heart. It's like my world world just stopped at a wonderfully blissful spot. Kansas City is home in so many ways, and I love being here.

Getting here involved an 8 hour road trip in which:

I developed what I call the "blanket tent" over the high chair and baby went to sleep.
We got redirected onto the back roads of Iowa, as the state patrol completely shut down the interstate, and funneled hundreds of cars onto random highways which no one knows how to maneuver. I'm glad we made it.
I remembered that thing I talked about yesterday, the thing I shouldn't be qualified to do. SKIING! Who in the world would take me to the top of the mountain and decide it was okay to leave me there to slide down on two little pieces of plastic?! Unqualified, I tell you.
Soon after we crossed the Missouri state line, we saw a man walking down the highway. That's strange. What's even stranger is that he had his pet pig with him.
I ate lots of Trader Joe's White Cheddar Corn Puffs. J'adore.

The good news is, I've forever secured my position as necessary-child-wrangler on all my sister's forthcoming road trips.

I think I missed a step

2010-06-05T23:45:00.004-05:00

Isn't it funny that they just let us grow up?

I was thinking the other day about something...what was it...wait for it...okay, I can't remember. Basically, it was some basic part of life, which, when I thought about it, was surprisingly shocking that I am allowed to do. My line was something like "like, who decided that all of a sudden I am qualified to do this?" You know, it was something like climbing a mountain or picking out my own outfit. Sheesh.

I mean, I was a kid. We were just kids. Now we're adults (at least legally) and don't live at home and can ride a horse or drive to the store or go on vacation or cut our hair all by our lonesome.

I decided that I have seen a definite sign of aging in my life: when people who used to be *ahem* interested in you are now getting married I think you've reached a whole new level.

Yesterday? Yesterday my hair was lighter red and still curly, I was missing three teeth, and I didn't know how to spell beautiful. ("BEE-AY-OOTIFUL")

Today, I am gradually realizing that I can go on vacation when I want to and it's okay to have a brownie right before bed. You know, just 'cause I want to.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow I'll have 10 children and live in Estonia somewhere.

It's funny how you just grow up.

Hold the Leafy Green Stuff

2010-06-04T17:59:00.008-05:00

Today, I told someone that I liked cilantro.

They went on to say: "Is there such a thing as too much cilantro?" I murmured an assent, and was left to my own thoughts. While I twirled a fork through a lemon (I learned today that that gets the juice out full and fast) I had an "Annie, what are you thinking?!" moment.

I don't like cilantro.

There can DEFINITELY be too much cilantro.

Now I have to put cilantro in my guacamole.

I am just not a fan of conflict. I suppose it could be a symptom of various things (fear alert!), and it can result in any number of situations. Apparently, one of those situations is guacamole not quite the way you like it.

This avoidance of conflict, it comes out of fear. Fear of disappointing the people I'm around, fear that they won't like what they find. What they find...that nebulous thing that I am afraid will disappoint them, I've come to realize, is me.

After the cilantro incident, I ducked downstairs to take a nap. It's never easy for me to fall asleep in the middle of the day, and this afternoon was no exception. I laid there, with Kim Walker bursting in my ears: "He loves us, Oh how He loves us..." In my mind's eye, a picture popped into view.

I saw myself, standing dressed in a beautiful gown, picked out just for me by the Lord. It fit perfectly, it fell gracefully, and it was the best kind of beautiful, that which is natural. The scene unfolded as I imagined people approaching, taking ownership of the masterpiece I wore, and making parts of it theirs. A gray flower pinned here, a purple patch stuck there, and so on and so forth. Soon, the dress the Lord had designed for me was covered with patches of other people's ideas of what would look good.

I thought about being myself, and how easy it is to let what I expect others want of me to become who I pretend to be. I know a lot of people, and they know me. But they don't know deep, deep down. They don't know all of me like He does. But I know my own tendency is to work to fit to be who other people expect that I am. When you actually try to explain it, it's a bit of a mind bender.

I want to be who He made me to be, rather than tweaking parts of me here and glances of me there. When I am the way He created me, I become an expression of Him. I'm created in His image. One of my favorite parts of who I am, if you're allowed to have those, is that parts of my personality reflect parts of His. Simple things, like I'm learning that it's okay to love adventure - because Jesus is adventurous, and He made me that way.

So away with this fear. That nasty, sneaky lie that says what He created doesn't fit the mold. It tells me I need to adjust myself to fit other people's expectations. The truth it that they have a slightly skewed view of who I am simply because they don't have the time or the scope of vision to know me fully, to know me the way He does. Rather than accept the patches other people project on me, I want to wear the dress Jesus gave me. It will draw others into being who He made them to be, it will point others to who He is. I don't have to be afraid it's not good enough, and I can be me even if other people don't expect it.

Let me say, I feel like I have written the word "I" in this post a whole lot. This isn't to say that I'm a big deal; I just believe the Lord made each one of for a reason...you are not a mistake. You have a design, and He pieced you together deliberately and specifically. Ask Him how He made you, and live that way, because it reflects something about Him.

And, I'll take my guacamole without cilantro, but you can put some in yours if you want.

"O Lord, you have searched me

and you know me."

~Psalm 139:1

What I Don't Deserve

2010-05-27T23:08:00.003-05:00

I don't deserve to be given conviction that is full of mercy.

I don't deserve that every wrong thing, every wrong thought, ever selfish motive, every prideful inkling would be covered by the blood of an innocent Man.

I don't deserve to be drawn to repentance by lovingkindness. Not harsh demands, not condemning threats, but by kindness. Kindness!

If you're anything like me (as in, if you are a human being), you want to be something particular, something special. You want to be irreplaceable to someone. You want to be known, be called by your name, have that look in your eye be understood, that tone of your voice perceived. You want to be someone's first thought.

Well.

WELL.

You are what He wants. He gave everything to have you. You are the joy set before Him, You are the dream of His heart, and gaining your love and your life was the aim of His. You are on His mind and that longing? You were made with it, and He is your beautiful, beautiful fulfillment.

The Dresses in the Window

2010-05-26T23:30:00.004-05:00

Whoever said you can't just walk into a couture salon and look at their dresses needed a bit more boldness.

OhmywordIalmostmeltedonthefloor. The lace! The silk! Someday Ima get married and Ima wear a purdy dress.

I digress. This blog is actually meant to be a list of "hopefuls."

"Hopefuls." They sound like "unspokens." If you didn't attend a Christian school or youth group or what have you, an "unspoken" is probably a mystery to you. It involves a time of sharing prayer requests, where someone has a prayer request, but doesn't want to share. Hence, the irony of it all. You can multiply them too! Two unspokens, three unspokens, ten unspokens.

I'm digressing again. At this point, I have two hopefuls to share with you.

I hope to go to New York City.

I hope to have a nice camera with which I take nice pictures.

I'm happy without these things, but I think they would be fun.

And that was the end of the letter.

Midway through the Midwest

2010-05-21T14:13:00.003-05:00

Here I am, painting, 'cause that's just what I do.

Actually, it's what I do at my parents' house. I arrived back in Chicago for a two week visit on Tuesday. My parents are moving (!!) to Kansas City (!!! again) and so I am here to help with various and sundry projects like painting the dining room trim, dusting the piano, and avoiding deadly spiders in the garage.

My mom was worried that I would be nostalgic about them leaving the house I grew up in, but I think I am just so overjoyed that they are going to Kansas City that my heart has no space to be nostalgic. Moving to Kansas City is, so far, one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and I am praying it will be the same for them. The day I arrived marked the beginning of a new season - of healing, of the Lord's kindness, of overflowing, bubbly, uncontainable joy; I am hoping for the same for them!

Being in Chicago also means screaming, melt into each other's arms reunions with some heart sisters and wonderful, steaming Indian food with so many dear people. It means seeing Noemi's face for the first time in a year and eating at the Peterson's table again. Being in Chicago means wandering the halls of my old school and finding old cds in my drawers. [Steven Curtis Chapman Christmas! Holla!]

Last night, some friends and I went to a coffee shop that turned out to be delightful...Ipsento. We had read rumors of a nutella mocha, and it did not disappoint. The two baristas talked jovially with us, and it turned out they loved Jesus! The guy who made my drink asked what my favorite coffee shop was - I said Peet's in downtown Seattle. He promised to write a haiku on the spot for us if my drink wasn't better than Peet's. I tasted, proclaimed it to win over Peet's, but he wrote us a haiku anyways. It was about loggers. If a haiku about loggers doesn't make you want to go there, I don't know what will.

Hi Chicago. Thanks for being...authentic.

The Finish Line

2010-05-14T11:31:00.005-05:00

I figured that since I posted a picture of myself on my last day of finals last semester, you might like to see one now.

I'm not wearing a fantastic $2 sweater, as you can so, but I do have greasy hair and glasses which, let's be honest, is slightly more realistic.

I'm almost done! I can't believe it! A whole year of college... I need to finish up a paper, run it to my professor's office and do all the fun things like going to work for the last time and returning all my books to the library and selling back the ones I still have.

I should go finish that paper. In the meantime, I would like you to know that today is the 399th anniversary of the bovine arrival in America. Cows arrived in Jamestown, Virginia on May 14, 1611. Go drink some milk and be merry.

Almost...

2010-04-28T01:00:00.002-05:00

I can taste the finish line. I can see the baked cake. It's almost time, people.

One paper on Indian politics.

One paper on John Reed.

Two final exams.

One paper on Plato.

One presentation entirely in French.

Then...FREEDOM.

Once I have been freed from these educational fetters, I would like to:

Dress up and go out to dinner.
Watch the Young Victoria.
Stay in Parkland until 1am, just because I have no homework to do.
Spend the night at Carly's house on a weekday.
Read books (which aren't listed on a syllabus)
Go out to coffee in the middle of the day
Oh, and I can't forget to visit Chicago and hopefully KC because Jesus just provided the plane tickets I needed.

I don't know about you, but I am looking forward to May 15.

Him and Me.

2010-04-25T02:44:00.004-05:00

There are parts of me that only He sees. He made the depths of me, and I figure that's the way it should be.

The other night I went to bed with a familiar longing revisited: "Jesus, I just want to be beautiful."

Something so simple and straightforward and...obvious...and yet somehow the reality of it was surprising. Bethany Dillon inspires me to want to write the real things.

When Peter talks about the hidden beauty I am called to have... This week it struck me that hidden implies that it is real even when it's not seen, and it must be sought out to be seen.

And when I come to Him, with my list of complaints against myself, I insist: "Jesus, this is what I see."

He replies: "Annie, that's not what I see. Which of us has clearer vision?"

He makes me beautiful.

Not for me.

2010-04-20T02:17:00.004-05:00

I am so incredibly thankful for my dad.

Today I called him, freaking out, ten minutes before my piano lesson. "Dad, would I be crazy to drop piano right now?" He calmly replied: "Right now, three weeks before the end of the semester? Well, at first it does sound a little...crazy..." After we talked over the whys and the what-fors, he affirmed my choices and advised: just decide what you need to do and do it confidently. If you're overwhelmed and something has to go, drop piano. Or if you can do it, do it.

It all turned out alright, and my professor was extremely encouraging, and as for piano, I'm going to finish the semester and do my best and hey! Lord-willing, in 3 weeks, I will still be a pianist. This particular Bach sinfonia may still not be perfected, but the piano will still be my instrument.

But that confidence from my dad and the encouragement that my life is not falling apart and I am not a failure means more than you know.

There are only 12 days left of classes, then finals. Sometimes I look at these next weeks and think: "YES! Almost there!" Other moments, I look at them and want to curl into a ball. How am I going to get everything done? What am I doing next year? Why is my whole school not saved? How do I give a French presentation? When am I going to start that paper? I'm serious, that Politics reading just multiplied in length by a quadrillion paragraphs. WHERE'S MY COFFEE??

Then I have a moment. It's kind of like the one with my dad today, only it's with my heavenly Father.

Annie, you're not a failure. This is my burden, let me carry it. You're going to finish strong. I'm with you. I'm for you, and if I'm for you, who can be against you? You're doing great, just keep going. You're not alone in this, and grades really aren't the end of the world. You're not a failure, You're not failing me, You're not missing the mark.

So for you...I don't know what your area is. Maybe it's not homework or school. Maybe it's your job, or your parenting, or your house that needs to get clean. Take a second and realize right now that the voice telling you that you're failing and you need to be doing it better...it's a liar. As my dad says: "If it's not from God, it's not for you."

My intimidation over school and my feelings of failure are not from God, so they are not for me. Mmm-mmm. No way. Not for me.

What have you been carrying that's not for you? Lay it down, let it go. He'll take care of the rest.

I'm a Refugee

2010-04-17T23:28:00.006-05:00

I have run away from America. Blame it on Jackson's harassment stories, blame it on the high gas prices...I've crossed the border.

Canada is not very different. They have different money, even though they use the dollar sign. They play baseball and football and soccer and basketball, but man, their hockey is a lot better. In fact, we're all sitting together right now, watching a playoff game. I feel so Canadian.

Their mountains are very beautiful. Their speed limit signs are confusing, because you're allowed to 70 on a regular street. Gosh, those speeding Canadians.

I got to use my new passport, which was very exciting. The Canadian border patrol agent wanted to know where we lived, what we were doing, etc. Then she asked if we were related. We're not, but our last names are almost the same (I have finally found a Petersen with an "e"!!) Border patrol agents need to learn how to smile. (Also, I can now say from personal experience that there is more than one Canadian border patrol agent. Take that, Byron.)

I came with Carly. Here is us, being happy.

My friend's parents just had a conversation about how warm it was in the house. "Yeah, it's like TWENTY-FOUR!" I looked over, extremely consternated. Carly: "degrees celsius." My word, we're not in Kansas anymore.

Conundrum

2010-04-08T11:32:00.003-05:00

There are so many amazing, spiritual things I could write about. My heart is literally overflowing, but at the moment I have one serious problem.

I am tired. Very, very tired. Also, I feel kinda sick.

This week has been incredibly intense, and today I have a class (I already had one this morning also) and then a study group and then a master class (fancy! not really) and then work and then babysitting, and...

I'm thinking about skipping class to take a nap. Don't judge. Yesterday I almost skipped French class to finish a paper, but I didn't. I feel like I've racked up didn't-skip points, which maybe just maybe I could redeem today? I even told my dad yesterday that I was thinking of skipping and he just said "I understand." Also, my French teacher found out I had a paper, and she gave me joke extra credit points for coming to class! That's always good, right?

I'm not saying I think it's okay to skip classes all the time. Just maybe some of the time. :)

Too bad my Russian Revolution teacher doesn't know about joke extra credit points. I should probably just go read and prepare for the quiz. *bangs head on table*

What about you? Did you skip classes in college? Or even now - do you ever just stop yourself and think "wait a minute, I just can't do all of these things because my body may collapse or implode or something of the sort?" Please tell me you've had that thought and that I am not a complete laz-o for being too tired to go to class.

Even though I'll probably go to class.

For serious. Really, though...

2010-04-07T17:29:00.001-05:00

He is Divine and you are De Branch. hehe.

Middle of the Night

2010-04-02T02:18:00.003-05:00

"I'm a college student, I'm not allowed to sleep." Let me just be honest right here at the beginning, I'm supposed to writing a paper. No use hiding it.

I'm back from Hawaii. Hawaii is wonderful, simply wonderful. I think the island life convinced me that certain places have anointings, and God has chosen those little rocks half way between China and California as a special place for refreshing His people.

I left Hawaii with a whole new perspective. When I say a whole new perspective, I really mean it. New plans for the future, new ideas about the future...I think what really happened was new HOPE.

I like hope a lot.

On my last day there, I was standing on a hotel porch, looking out over the ocean. Chloe had shown me this secret spot at the hotel across the street from their subdivision, where we could steal away to any time and just sit next to the ocean. This was my third trip or fourth trip to the hotel. Chloe was at school, I was on the phone with Katrina, and all of a sudden I saw a spurt. Water, straight up in the air. It took me a second to process it, and my eyes darted back to the spot in the water. Sure enough, the smooth arch of a whale's back slid across the water. I'm pretty sure I lost the thought I was trying to say to Katrina and stumbled over my words. A whale. I saw a whale. I had asked Jesus that I could see a whale, and there, on my last day (the one that wasn't supposed to happen), Jesus made that whale swim exactly to that spot so that I could see it.

Why wasn't that day supposed to happen, you ask? I was supposed to fly out a day earlier, but a light on my airplane broke and I got an extra day. An extra day. An extra, wonderful, life-changing day (for a lot more reasons than a whale sighting).

Jesus loves me a lot, and He reminded me with a trip to paradise. Today, there's new joy in my smile and restored light in my eyes. Thank You, Jesus, for lighting me up. I can't wait to see what's up next.

Live from Paradise

2010-03-13T13:59:00.003-06:00

I'm in Hawai'i! On the flight in, I had to sign a declarations form that I wasn't bringing any strange budding plants onto the island. I caught my first sighting out the plane window at exactly 5:31pm local time, and have been in heaven ever since.

I am with one of my favorite families of all time and am just having an absolute blast. Got to spend some time at the University of Nations, which is a main YWAM base here in Kona. Their prayer room is fantastic. Just a simple sound system and a room full of people who adore Jesus, singing their hearts out.

Went to the beach with Chloe and by the time we left, my heart was a lot lighter and my smile a lot bigger.

At night me, Chloe, and Nick drove up a mountain to see the stars. We could see the city lights below us, but the lights above us far exceeded them. I have never seen anything like it. There are SO MANY stars. You don't know these things when you've grown up in a city. :) They were so clear and they were everywhere, and I just laid my head backwards out the window and sat in amazement. Every one of them has a name. Every one is seen by Jesus every day.

Hawai'i reminds me that God is good, and that He is close. He is close to my every day life, and He is beautiful all the time.

4:40am

2010-02-26T11:05:00.002-06:00

I am claiming victory. This morning did not go like yesterday!

Last night I procrastinated like it was an Olympic sport. First I won bronze, then silver, then gold. Then I went to bed and decided to get up early and try the paper again, because His mercies are new every morning. That's a promise, right?

I kid you not, I set four alarms. FOUR. Also, I have discovered a way to conquer my sleepy mind. If I set my phone alarm to ring with my phone-call ring rather than the usual wake-up ring, my brain jolts awake. Haha, got you, brain!

Also, I prayed. When I have to wake up in the morning, I ask the Lord the night before to help me, because goodness! sometimes waking up is hard to do.

So I was awake at 4:40, got time in the Word (I think not doing that would have been a fatal blow to my day. It makes SUCH a difference!!), and then went upstairs, lit the candles, turned on my computer, started the coffee pot that I prepared last night, and began on the paper. Things got done, and I am so thankful. There's more to do, but I think I have plenty of time. I also got to read Antigone for my 10am class, and have breakfast at the table with Jena and the kids. This morning is surprisingly fantastic.

Hmmm, maybe I should wake up at 4:40 every day. Other than the fact that when I stop moving I feel as if I might fall asleep, this feels great!

8:21am

2010-02-25T20:09:00.003-06:00

I have been sleeping an abnormally normal amount lately. A full 8 hours is unheard of at my stage of life, I believe. Perhaps I should mention that I hardly ever set my alarm for 8 hours after I drift off, but I usually hit snooze for about that long.

Anyways, to get back to my story. I mean, to start my story.

This morning's two alarms (I always use 2 alarms) were set for 6:15. Figure in the time with the Word, figure in time for a shower, and be on time to my 8 am.

That's not the way it went down, folks.

Instead, I hit snooze at 6:15 and again and 6:27. After that I heard my phone clonk onto the chords sitting on the floor and ignored it. Actually, I must have picked it up, because I heard it clonk again. Realizing that someone had probably texted me, I picked it up and read a message from Jena: "R u up?" Um, up? Look at the time, it's 8:12. EIGHT. ONE. TWO. My class starts at EIGHT ZERO ZERO.

I start whimpering: "Oh no, oh no" (that's what I do when I'm alone and get worried), grabbed my glasses, and ran out my door, up the stairs and burst into the kitchen. Chris and Jena are standing in the kitchen and look at me, shocked at my bursting through doors and such and I start to cry and say: "what do I dooo?!"

Jena: "Oh, your 8am? [pause] Are you crying?"

Yes, people, it was probably one of the more dramatic mornings of my life.

On the trusty advice of people who successfully graduated from college, I went to class late. In fact, it was only 9 minutes from my leap out of bed to walking into the classroom. The teacher only half-way publicly shamed me and all was well. We usually have a quiz at the beginning of the class that you cannot make up, but today for the first time in the semester, there was no quiz!

And that was the beginning of my day. Stay tuned to hear how it ends. (Or more specifically to hear how successfully I write a paper on something I know hardly anything about... don't be shocked. Behind every good blog post is a paper sitting around procrastinating.)

Rest Assured

2010-02-13T03:16:00.003-06:00

For some reason, I often think of a tweet that Katrina sent one day last summer. We were on our way to Chipotle, driving along Blue Ridge Boulevard (my favorite! Oh, j'ADORE), and I made a comment about how unsure I was of the next year:

KStyles

On my way to chipotle w/ @Anniepeterson. She made a comment about not knowing where she'll be this time next year. I grunted grumpily back.

I've thought about it, and thought about it again, and though about how funny it is that I STILL don't know when I'll be doing a year from that day. It was June 1, and June 1 of this year? I have no idea.

It's not that I don't have ideas, and it's not that my imagination can't think of enough options. Oh trust me, I've thought of options. But I have this suspicion that there's one option that's better than the others, and one God who knows what that option is.

So I wait. Waiting for Christmas morning is nothing compared to this. There are so many things that the need for patience and wisdom applies to. I'm waiting to know how long to be in school. I'm waiting for lots of my friends to meet Jesus. I'm waiting for others of my friends to get healed. I'm waiting for my husband. I'm waiting for my children. I'm waiting for my orphans.

I'm waiting for Jesus to come back. I'm waiting for injustice to be vanquished from the earth. I'm waiting to be fully known. I'm waiting to be presented blameless. I'm waiting to be free of the struggle with sin. I'm waiting to live forever with the One I love.

But the waiting, the waiting is beautiful, because rawness is beautiful. Throwing yourself on the surety of the goodness of God -- that is beautiful to Him. A weak heart that says yes -- that is beautiful to Him. And your waiting is not in vain; you will not be put to shame. You, in your waiting, will not be put to shame.

You will not reach the end and look back and say: "Wow, that was silly. What a waste of time!" or "man, I looked really silly having no idea what I was doing!" or "boy, maybe I didn't really need to wait on God to tell me every step; I could have made some up on my own..." No, friend! God's word promises that you will not be put to shame when you wait on Him. Wait with obedience, wait without passivity, but do not fail to wait.

Patience is not passive; on the contrary it's quite bold. So be bold and wait. The fruit will be good and plenty.

Xanthos

2010-02-05T19:09:00.002-06:00

Last night I went to an engagement part for two people that are just full of awesomeness. Then, in true girl form, a group of us stayed at said party until after midnight, wigging out over wedding magazines with the bride. She was delighted that the first thing that needs to be done is: dress. I mean, who wouldn't smile at that?

Since I didn't get home until 1am, I didn't read my chapters of Homer. I know, I know.

Then, in class, for the first time in my college career and maybe only the 2nd or 3rd time in my ever-school career, we had a pop quiz.

About the chapters I didn't read.

And I guessed that there hadn't been a talking horse in the reading.

But there had been.

His name wasn't Mr. Ed. And he bothered Achilles (not the tendon).

Now I'm going home, and I will probably eat food. Hopefully you're going home and will probably eat food. And hopefully you don't feel like you wasted the last 40 seconds reading about the quiz where I denied the existence of a talking horse.

Actually, I still deny the existence of a talking horse. Au revoir.

Pray Continually...

2010-02-04T20:45:00.000-06:00

Mike Bickle has this little saying that has always seemed qualified and excellent but I hadn't really put into practice. You know those things you hear and you say: "Hey, that's a great point!" and then walk out of church and don't think about it again for the next week or month or decade?

"Never underestimate the power of 30-second prayers."

It sounds so simple, right?

The other week, the Holy Spirit started nudging my heart to pray in the small moments. See a few desperately broken classmates in the coffeeshop, walk out with my white mocha, and cry out for their salvation down the sidewalk on the way to work. Remember your friend who was having a hard time last Saturday? Right then and there ask the Lord to show them His face. No more "oh, I should pray for them!" Do it! With your 30 seconds! Just do it, and don't underestimate the power of it. Nothing is too small to pray about!

The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working. James 5:16

I found that the two or three times I did it during my day made such a difference! My heart felt lighter as the hours passed. Imagine walking down a road and passing heavy stones. You pick them up, one by one, and put them in your bag. Eventually when you get to the end of the road you are ready to lay your head on the pillow out of sheer exhaustion rather than the sweet reward of rest. Lifting up the little things that were burdens on my heart during the day kept my eyes on Jesus and my mind constantly on Him. What would His perspective be of that situation? If you're praying about it, that's what you'll be thinking. If you just let it sit in your mind and weigh you down, you'll forget to ask what He thinks. Hand Him your stones.

The God of all the universe hears your words, and He inspires the prayers in your heart, and when you open your mouth, His ears are open and His attention is on you. Right now, the attention of God is on you. What do you want to say to Him?

I Will Wait.

2010-02-03T18:21:00.007-06:00

The theme word for this week, the message that has been preached on repeat in my heart for days, the thing that has occupied my thoughts and my pen, is patience.

Patience. What a word.

Before this past month, it was just that - a word. A word I found here or there, a word that drifted across my eyes when I wanted a little girl to put her shoes on faster, a word I could sing in a song and get a warm fuzzy feeling.

Now when I think of patience, there's more of a wrestle-in-the-mud effect. I have hope that this wrestle will end like Jacob's did.

Saturday night, I read about Ronel, and my heart broken into a million pieces. On the floor. At the library. I couldn't get this picture that Randy tweeted from Haiti out of my mind. My thoughts raced - what if I really left school and just went to Haiti? What could I do? What could I DO? Something turned into my heart from "One day, I am doing to be a mom and adopt orphans and they won't be orphans anymore" to "anywhere children are alone, I belong." To steal a flow of logic from my friend, it's a good thing I don't have any money or else I might have gotten on a plane to India right then and there. I texted Christina:

What would you do if I got on a plane right now, went to India, found a house, and took in 50 kids?

She replied she'd come with me. That's my partner in crime right there, folks.

I went to sleep with tears dropping from my eyes and "Oh, Jesus..." from my lips. I got up the next morning and tried to share the heaviness of my heart with Chris & Jena. Jena tried to encourage me with answers: "see what degree you need to help them!" "Pray! You might hear a story in ten years of a little kid getting out of Haiti today and look back and remember that you were praying." Finally, she identified the 200 pound weight my heart had been trying to lift for the past few hours:

It's frustrating to be filled with passion and compassion about something and not be able to do anything about it.

You see, the next words out of my mouth after "Oh Jesus, save that little boy" had been "God, why am I here?" It was so hard to reconcile the fact that my arms that could hold so many of these little boys and girls were instead filled with works of Homer and textbooks on politics. That my feet could be dirty with the mud of Port-au-Prince but instead pounded the glistening pavement of my stellar university campus. That I could burn for hearts without homes while I slept in a room that could fit at least two cribs in it, maybe three.

All that to say, Jena also identified a key aspect that I had been blind to:

You're angry with God. You're angry that there's injustice in the world and you can't do anything about it right now.

How scary. She was right. The thing is, being mad at God scares me, but it doesn't scare Him. He's willing to work with me, guide my heart, speak to me, and forgive me when I come repentant. This is where patience comes in (perhaps you were wondering!).

I walked through the evening air crying on Monday, pouring out to Christina how my heart felt tied in knots and I just didn't understand, and how could I be angry with God? She spoke some oil of personal experience and solid truth that brought peace instantly:

Annie, I don't like it. But Jesus did it.

He did! He went to school to study the Scriptures that he wrote. The one who crafted the world built chairs and tables until he was 30. THIRTY! He was a boy. He was God, and lived with people who had no idea. (Christina, I hope I'm not stealing a blog post here! :)

Then, to follow it up:

A good friend told me a little while ago: 'Jesus requests patience of me, not as an act of obedience, but as an act of love.'

That friend was me. The Lord began speaking to me as I prepared to come back to Tacoma that love is patient. 1 Corinthians 13, authentic, deep, lasting love is patient. Somehow, in the rustle of a few days, I had lost sight of it. I want to love Jesus with real love, and real love is patient.

So I am here. In Tacoma. With so many things waiting as dreams in my heart, not the least of which is the fatherless of the world, and Jesus is teaching me to be patient. I will be patient for Him to bring about the dreams He has etched in me. I will be patient for Him to perfect my faith. I will be patient for Him to show me the big picture. I will be patient.

And the only reason I can hope to love Jesus with a love fueled by patience? Jesus' love for me is patient. I can love Him with this authentic, patient love only because He loved me first with authentic, patient love.

But I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience... ~1 Timothy 1:16

He loved me first. I feel as if I could shout it to the world.

Oh friends, He is patient. I am learning to be patient, but He is the kindest teacher I know. I trust Him. I committed to trust Him with everything, to throw my life on the surety of His goodness, and I am committed to that promise. Thank God He's committed to me.

Isaiah 40:31
They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles;
They shall run and not be weary;
They shall walk and not faint.

What you really want to read...

2010-01-28T21:43:00.003-06:00

I have a blog post brewing, but my Classics teacher assigned this reading in the Iliad...

That doesn't mean you don't have something to read, though. Head over to Randy's blog and catch up on his Haiti journey. He arrived on the ground there today to search out everything he can possibly find out about how best to take care of the thousands of orphans left in the rubble.

Randybohlender.com

Just a Reminder

2010-01-27T14:47:00.003-06:00

Today, don't forget that your hope is alive. He's a Man, and you will see Him, very soon. And guess what? Until you do see Him, the power of God is guarding you -- at your left, your right, behind, and before, making you ready for the coming Great Day.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. ~1 Peter 1:3-5

Don't forget that you are on His mind, and He is praying for you.

Consequently, he is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them. ~Hebrews 7:25

The Russian Steppe was Reinhabited...

2010-01-26T18:35:00.003-06:00

I would like to say something profoundly interesting, but I'm not sure what it would be.

I could tell you about my class about the Russian Revolution. The professor is fantastic and says things like:

"Being a professor is so hard sometimes. It's like being paid to be constantly confused."

"And then, of course, his daughter Anastasia ran away and lives in Cleveland somewhere."

He also basically called me a Marxist. I reject this notion because 1) I'm not 2) I know I'm not and 3) the teacher took back what he said. I just happened to voice an idea that Marx may or may not have agreed with.

I have also decided that I want to visit Russia on the New Earth. It seems like such a wholly wild place right now, with all that cold and all those bears and all those trees (a quarter of the world's forest is in Russia!). I want to know what the Lord was thinking when he designed it, and I want to see what it's like after He restores all things.

Let me finish this short blog with this a hearty endorsement for this message. Danny Lehmann is part of YWAM leadership, and visited Tacoma a couple weeks ago. The message is packed with seriously awesome stories, funny jokes, and (best of all) some hard core truth about doing what the Lord tells you to do. Ready, set, listen! (For the record, he's so engaging that I listened while multi-tasking and feel like I was able to take in everything! Turn it on while you cook or something!)

I Have a Living Hope.

2010-01-20T14:44:00.006-06:00

For my work-study job at school, I have been going through obituaries. Pleasant job, I bet you're thinking. It's not usually what I do, but for now I am going through, searching the names to see if any of them have at some time been connected with our university. This task is not the easiest; yesterday I started to cry.

There are some I read that begin with something like: "Jim was welcomed into the loving arms of Jesus Christ..." Those are usually the ones where tears gather in my eyes. The ones where the family can say without a doubt that the man lived his life for the glory of Jesus Christ and they know where he is now.

Then there are the terribly sad ones that grieve me deeply on the inside but don't usually move me to the kind of tears that are, in the previous instance, usually mingled with the joy of the knowledge of salvation. These second ones are instead like brick walls of terribly tangible reality. I read one yesterday that exalted the way the woman had given herself to "transcendental meditation" and how that was what she had passed onto her children. These ones about people that did not know the Lord - they are the difficult ones to read. Their lives are over. Their chance to say yes to Jesus is gone.

Today, as I finished up my task, I decided: should the Lord tarry, and I die and have a funeral, I want people to get saved at it. I don't want to die simply having "made the world a better place." No, I have a far greater legacy I dream of. I want to point people to Jesus. I want to finish my race having given everything I could to love and serve Him well. When people think of me, whether I'm alive on this earth or truly alive, I want them to in the next breath think of Jesus, and how He was what my life was for, about, spent on, everything.

I know a blog about death seems at first uncharacteristically sorrowful. The truth is, however, that if you know Jesus, there is no fear in physical death! Philippians 1:21 says that "to live is Christ, and to die is gain." Only in recent years has my heart begun to yearn for the day when I am with Him fully. He has written eternity on my heart (like He has on yours), and so here I am, caught between the now and the not yet (as my sister would say). Because Jesus died on the cross with me in mind then defeated death in rising from the grave, I have heaven to look forward to, rather than the hell my sinful soul deserved. Now, life is Christ, and oh how sweet it is! But then? Then is perfect peace, seeing Jesus as He is, touching His scarred hands with which He bought my life, being welcomed as one of the Father's own into His house. Now is good, but then...then will be great.

Boogers

2010-01-19T23:21:00.006-06:00

The impurities in your faith are strikingly similar to snot in a baby's nose.

Tonight, I watched my friend hold Zoe, the little almost-1-year-old I live with, and try to wipe her nose. She could hear that Zoe was having a hard time breathing easily, and knew that if only Zoe's nose could be clear, life would be much more comfortable. Zoe, however, had no intention of letting her nose be wiped. She arched her back, squished her face, and screamed like the world was ending. She flailed. She screamed more. And finally it was over.

I watched her and thought: that's me. I feel sometimes like my soul gets stuck in its limited vision, and I cry. Sometimes, inside (let's be honest here), I scream. But his strong arms are there, holding me, not offended by my screams. He knows I don't understand. Go ahead, I dare you, try to explain to Zoe while she screams the concept of clear sinuses and oxygen saturation. She won't get it, and she'll probably scream louder.

Through this time of transition to life in Tacoma, in the midst of aching for my sisters and warring in spiritual battles at school, 1 Peter 1 has been ringing true:

In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, ⁷so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. ⁸ Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, ⁹obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

For a little while...if necessary...various trials...

but then?

faith...precious...genuineness...you love Him...joy inexpressible.

I can't see. I honestly can't see the things God can. I can't see the dross that's in my imperfect faith right now, and I can't see the missions and plans the Lord has ahead, which He needs my faith and trust to be at a certain, more mature spot for. So I trust Him. Love does not insist on its own way. I will bend to Him and believe that He does great work in His plans. Love is patient. I am okay with not being able to see, because I love Him so much that I trust Him and I will be patient to see what He is working. In reality, I already know the main picture: "the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls."

Back.

2010-01-18T23:03:00.002-06:00

The time has come. I've returned to Tacoma and school begins again tomorrow. Today, I charged the bookstore, ready to take on every aisle of words and emerge victorious. Homer's Iliad was out of stock, however, which can always leave one feeling somewhat...un-Iliadish, I suppose.

As sad as this is, the past three days have not been without tears. Don't worry -- this return is going much smoother than the one in the fall. The trip over Christmas break, however, left me more sure than ever that Kansas City is a home for me. When I'm in Kansas City, I know my way around town. I can walk into the coffeeshop and greet a handful of people I know within a few seconds. I can walk into the prayer room and hear the familiar rhythm of prayer leader - singers - prayer leader - singers. In Kansas City, I can head to Amy's house any time of the day or night and curl up by her fire (after having raided her chocolate stash or drunk some of her raw milk that she gets from the farmers every Saturday at 3 o'clock) with either a book or with a simple desire for warmth. In Kansas City, I can merely begin the word "snuggle" and have at least one of five cuddly children thrown into my arms. In Kansas City, I can be teased by sisters while I make them dinner. I can go on midnight runs to HyVee with Christina for $1 ice cream. I can knock on the Bohlender's front door even though I know I could walk in without knocking.

Kansas City is home in an instant. My home in Tacoma is still growing.

This verse has been touching the tender part of my missing-home heart the past few days:

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also planted eternity in men's hearts, yet so that men cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end." Ecclesiastes 3:11

So if you find yourself in a place where you know the Lord has placed you, but today - just today - the circumstances hurt for a little bit, remember that He makes everything beautiful in time. Your faith will be tested, but it will be more precious than gold refined by the fire. It's going to be worth it. The things you do now out of love for Him, regardless of pain or discomfort, they will last. He sees all, and you are safe. Utterly, completely, totally safe.

Time to Go

2010-01-16T02:01:00.002-06:00

Tomorrow (well, today) I leave home to go home.

It's like being caught between two oceans, but being on the most perfect little island you've ever known.

Sometimes you forget it's so perfect, but then the Lord reminds:

"Love does not insist on its own way."

So here I go, my offering in loving Jesus: to obey, to follow, to not insist on my own way. There are moments, like just now leaving Christina in the car after a midnight ice cream run, where my heart aches. Let's be real: those moments happen.

But somehow, the Comforter wraps your heart in peace, every time. When it feels victorious, I exuberantly shout praise. And when it aches (like it does a little bit right now), I whisper: "It's all for You, Jesus. I'm still all in. Anything, anything, anything to obey You and love You more."

{Read it!}

2010-01-10T20:06:00.002-06:00

I just have to put in a shameless plug. If you are a parent, you know a parent, or you are thinking of ever becoming a parent, this is for you. My sister Suzanna has just started a one-week blog series on parenting. The first one alone will blow your mind, and I have no doubt that the rest will too, once they are written. Things she writes usually blows minds, if I her sister may say so myself.

Read it HERE. Need the link again? Here, here here!

It's gone

2010-01-10T13:18:00.004-06:00

When I got to Kansas City, people's comments, strangely often, centered around my hair and how long it was. Hair is a funny thing, because you never really part with your own hair, so its growth doesn't shock you. All that to say, my hair was very long. See here:

But now? Now it's gone!

My head feels strangely light... The last time I got my hair cut, I loved the lady who did it so much that I told myself I would wait for Christmas Break and come back! If you are in Kansas City and need the best hair cut you've ever gotten for $20, let me know. :)

Go Climb That Mountain!

2010-01-07T14:23:00.007-06:00

There is so much snow in Kansas City. SO MUCH SNOW. Since that seems to be the theme of most Kansas Cityians' social networking these days, I figured I would join in.

Yesterday, driving around through the snow, I realized that there will most likely be no snow on the ground when I get back to Tacoma. This is sad.

Earlier in my trip home, Christina picked me up in a borrowed 4WD, and it was fantastic. You could climb a mountain in that thing! We, however, merely drove to Chick-fil-a. There was this guy shoveling all the snow out of his driveway onto the main road, though. We crossed that pile, but it was more of a large hill. Okay, a small hill. As we drove, I started to trying to tell her how much fun driving in snow has been. I started saying something about our breed: "Midwest girls, we just..." and she burst in: "we are the STUFF!" I heartily agree.

My sisters all live within a few streets of each other, but those streets have been covered with snow for quite some time now. Driving with Amy, we would turn onto her street and kind of head straight for the lightpole and then turn just in time. Then, we almost kissed the bush near her driveway, but yet again the nose of the car got pushed toward the basketball hoop and pulled back into perfect alignment with the garage door. When you have peace, slip-sliding like that can actually be quite fun. I wish I could count how many angels there are around the Midwest during winter. In fact, I felt like our car was less of a vehicle and more of a ping pong ball, just getting tossed from angel to angel. Perfectly safe, but not in control.

Yesterday an emergency run to the store was needed just as a storm hit. Elizabeth, the kiddos, and myself had just returned home from the doctor and we needed Pedialyte. When you need Pedialyte, you need Pedialyte, so I headed out a few minutes after the snow started. It took me almost 40 minutes to get to Target (whoa!) but I made it there and back and had fun doing it. You haven't experienced Midwest driving until you've started to fishtail in slush as an oncoming car gets closer and closer. You straighten out (hehe, get straightened out by that angel who is concerning you), and breathe thankfulness as your tires finally grip something. Then you (well, at least I) smile.

A while ago, someone gave me an encouragement from the Lord that He was going to take me into an understanding of and affection for the part of His heart that loves adventure. At the time, I had no idea what it meant. I mean, no idea. Adventure? Fun, Lord! I guess that's, um, cool. But did you see? I have all these other pressing questions -- honestly my heart wondered why, of all things, He chose adventure to speak to.

I've thought about it since moving to Tacoma, though. Adventure. It's like the word itself is made of mountains. Adventure! God loves adventure; He made adventure; He made me to love adventure. (Are you allowed to put 3 semi-colons in a sentence?) Moving to Tacoma is the biggest, newest, boldest, hardest thing I've ever done. Guess what it's full of? Adventure. It is one big adventure.

I've come to learn that adventure throws off all the fetters of control. When you climb a mountain, there's a point where it's doubtful whether or not you can even make your legs move or your lungs breathe, much less prevent an avalanche. When you go on an adventure with God, you learn that everything goes wrong if you try to take charge. When you decide that you're willing to put everything on the line to obey Him, you find the eye of the storm. Perfectly safe, but not in control.

So whether I'm driving in the snow or finding my footing in a new city, adventure is the name of the game. I'm glad that God has much higher visibility than I do. I don't have to know anything, because He knows everything. Trust me, if you're willing to give everything of you to obey Jesus, you are going to be on some pretty grand adventures. If you find yourself slip-sliding around in a car but an ear-to-ear smile on your face, I think you're seeing that part of you that's made in God's image, loving adventure right along with Him. Sit in peace and enjoy the ride.

***

If you actually ever do find yourself fishtailing and don't know what to do, turn your steering wheel (gently) in the direction your back tires are skidding. If you're like me, your driver's ed teacher told you "steer in the direction of the skid" but never gave you a definition of what that meant. Now you know. :)

This poem brought to you by mom, who hauled my files of old "stuff" to Kansas City.

2010-01-05T14:37:00.003-06:00

I don't write poems.

I don't read poems.

I am, in general, not a big fan of poems. (Unless they're canonized) I want to write songs, but that is a whole different story.

That being said, I have written two poems in my lifetime which I deemed successful. I would like to introduce you to one of them.

Distress came to a maid of Tyreame,
But she had a beau who answered her scream.
It was caused by a mouse
Who was loose in her house,
And he gave it a whack with a beam.

Now that I have shared this with you from the deep recesses of my heart, oh wait...I forgot the picture.
Where was I? Now that you have read this expression of the deepest parts of my soul, don't you feel like you know me better?

Yes, I thought so.

Thoughts on all things Wedding-Planning from the Sisters

2010-01-03T14:44:00.004-06:00

Dora: "No matter how hard you try, you cannot de-stress your wedding. There is no de-stressing."

Dora: "Next time I get married, there will be NO centerpieces at my wedding. Unless Jesus says 'No, we are having centerpieces.' 'Okay, Jesus, we can have centerpieces.'"

Suz: "No, there will be NO WAL-MART in heaven! Eternal fire forever."
Dorth: "What about Target? They're way more evil than Wal-Mart!"

Cough. Sniffle. Barf. {Merry Christmas!!}

2009-12-25T09:05:00.002-06:00

Yes, our the numbers that should be at our family Christmas brunch are going to be somewhat depleted, seeing as no one else wants to start barfing. You can hear Glorie's stuffy nose; yesterday I tried a homemade netti pot. (This included Peter's hockey waterbottle, as it was the only squeeze-kind in the house. He was not thrilled about this, and we promised to run it through the dishwasher so he could forget it was ever in contact with my nose) Worked the first time, not so much the second time.

In somewhat related but not exactly synonymous news, I've decided that talking about the Gospel with 3 year olds is definitely one of my favorite things. Yesterday I was talking to Glorie about why we have Christmas, etc., and I love the simplicity. Jesus was a baby. This is important, because He is GOD, but He was a baby! Then he grew and grew and grew. Then He died on an "owwie" cross. He saves us from our sins. Then, He was ALIVE!! And He gives us life!

It's that time of year.

2009-12-24T22:50:00.003-06:00

So, this picture didn't exactly work the way one might want it to, but I'm going to post it anyways.

Merry Christmas Eve!

Today we baked and baked and baked, and my sisters said so many things that I wish I could quote...if only I had the memory of an elephant.

It has been raining. RAINING. In the Midwest. Before Christmas. Today, however, it turned to ice (oh yippee!) and then snow. The current state is snow, and we're under a blizzard warning, so White Christmas here we come!

The past few days have been intense. A close friend of quite a few of my friends died yesterday morning in a car accident, leaving his wife and 10 children (8 of which were adopted). It is so, so hard to process and accept, thus there's not much more I feel I can write at the moment. Please pray for the Loux family.

Blessed and Highly Favored

2009-12-22T22:57:00.005-06:00

Mary has always caught my attention. In fact, Mary (along with David, and Daniel, and Timothy) makes me not want to grow up. Something about being 14, 15, 16 (and beyond, yes, I'm beyond those now :) made her story so real, so tangible. I still consider myself in the age range of {Imagine me, right now, an angel showing up and saying I was going to have a baby...}

I just want to know. I want to know it all. I know I won't know it all this side of the Jordan, but if I had to make a list of questions to sit down and talk about with Jesus when I go home, I would put "Mary...what was up with Mary?" near the top. What was it about her that attracted the favor of God like that? Why her? How did she walk in victory over shame? Was she scared? What's up with Joseph? Had she read the Scriptures enough to know when she set out on that donkey that she would have a baby when she got to Bethlehem? How in the world did she have a baby alone in a stable?

I mean, imagine! Imagine an angel standing in front of you and telling you that you had found favor with God. We read it like it's another Christmas phrase on par with "All is calm, all is bright" but imagine an archangel standing in front of you and saying: "Annie [insert your name here], you have found favor with the Most High God."

In the past few weeks I've been thinking about how Mary's life is such an example of sacrifice. When her life was no longer her own, everything was surrendered. Her whole life changed. Everyone thought she was in sin; she lost her reputation. She wasn't expecting to be a mom that year, but she was. Giving birth in a barn and putting your brand new baby on straw is not most girls' ideal of 'the good life'. Next up was a move -- a big move -- to Egypt! Then, 33 years later, she would watch her son be killed on a cross. I mean, let's be honest, it doesn't sound easy.

But God came through her surrender! God, and His purposes for all mankind, were welcomed by her surrender. It can be the same for us! When God finds someone who is after His heart, someone who is willing to just believe Him, see how He can move! Mary had no idea what was ahead of her when Gabriel showed up. She didn't know what would happen the next day, much less 33 years later. But the Lord took care of everything, didn't he? We want the purposes of God in our generation and our world; we can take our cues from Mary and just believe. He wants to use you, and you have the favor and eye of the Lord just like she did. Be bold, believe that you have found favor with the Most High God, and believe that His purposes can be birthed through your life.

I want God to come through my life. Mary has always caught my eye because I want to be like her. God chose her, He knew she would believe, and I want Him to know that I want to believe. I want Him to work faith in my heart. In the past few days of pondering this, I've found myself whispering to the Lord: "I will move to Egypt. I'll do whatever it takes, just use me. Find me saying yes." I want to be overshadowed by the Spirit of God. Don't you?

Live from Kansas City

2009-12-18T16:27:00.002-06:00

You have to admit, live from Kansas City is a whole lot more exciting than live from the library.

How do I look? Less stressed? Big smile? Same sweater? I'm here! I'm here! I'm here!

The more people I hug, the more I realize that it's true. I really am here! I got in yesterday morning (overnight flights are the BOMB! uh, yeah...right...) and spent the whole day at home with family. John-Peter isn't just a picture on facebook anymore, he is wonderful! Yesterday I took a recovery nap and woke up to my sister bringing him in to snuggle with me while she ran over to our other sister's house. He is still in that stage where he has lots of skin but is waiting for the chubs to fill it, and his cheeks win the Most-Kissable-Things-on-Earth award, hands down.

Today I went to IHOP, and my heart smiled a million smiles. People remember me! Yay! I saw Josiah, and Wes, and then I saw my Christina and nearly burst into tears with joy. I love her so much, and just seeing her face and hearing her voice made my day. Just walking through the halls of the base felt so familiar and warm and fuzzy. :) Plus, there was some girl I don't know at my desk doing my job. I guess it's not my job anymore. Oh, I knew that.

Basically, this is wonderful. Tonight, I am going out on the town with my sisters because my brother has been married to Dora for 5 years! He is deployed, though, and asked us girls to take her out to celebrate. Little black dress, I am glad I packed you.

For the Record

2009-12-16T13:23:00.002-06:00

I have French final in 40 minutes.

I am [obviously, since I'm blogging] having such a hard time focusing to study, though, because...

I'm going home tonight!!

*do the happy dance*

I guess I'm hoping my French subconscious kicks into high gear during the test. French subconscious? You there?

*****

Addendum: I realized that every time I look at the picture I posted yesterday, I wonder if my blog readers are thinking things like: "Man, that looks like it might be a cool sweater! I wonder what the rest of that sweater looks like. I wonder where she got that sweater..." and on and on, which I guess only goes to show that I like my sweater. It's like my sweater subconscious letting me know it was good buy or something. I mean, of course it was a good buy: I got it for $2. The best things in life are $2. Or something.

Coming to you Live from the Library

2009-12-15T16:55:00.003-06:00

Here is me. I am in the library. Today, rather than working like mad among the rows of harried students upstairs, I am down in the computer dungeon. Only thing is, it's not really a dungeon because it's full of fancy 20" or so iMacs.

I sat down and realized: hey! I'm on a mac! I could take a picture!

Then I thought: that could potentially be really embarrassing, if someone sees me taking a picture of myself.

Then I thought: nah, it's worth it for the blog.

You're welcome.

I thought about taking a re-do, but then I decided against it. 1) because I look disheveled, and I figured it's okay to give you an accurate representation of myself right now and 2) the only thing more embarrassing than people watching you take a picture of yourself once is people watching you take a picture of yourself twice.

I enjoy this iMac. I enjoy it so much in fact, that I am about to bestow upon it the honor of being where I finish my English paper. It feels so honored; it told me so. Here I go.

Countdown: 18.5 hours until my piano jury, 23 hours until I'm done with my last final, 33.5 hours until I board an airplane, 39.5 hours until sisters.

Sing a Song of Jubilation

2009-12-14T17:56:00.003-06:00

I would like to say that Kansas City is welcoming me on Thursday with a high of 46 degrees. In the middle of winter - that's amazing! Too add to the joy, weather.com showed me a little picture like this:
Well, hello there little sun! I know Tacoma has been quite sunny recently, but something about leaving the Pacific Northwest, known for its clouds, and arriving at a place with such a friendly sun picture is heartwarming.

I just finished my Statistics final, which means two of my classes are completely finished! I have two sleeps until I get on an airplane and take a red-eye back to the Midwest, where Samuel is walking (he wasn't when I left) and John-Peter is cooing (he definitely wasn't doing that when I left, unless babies have conversations with themselves in utero) and Ariel is dancing, and...and...it's just so wonderful.

I would like to officially declare myself thankful to the Lord for 1) keeping me alive during finals 2) Christmas break and 3) book buybacks! Seriously, someone just handed me cash! Put cash! In my hand! In case I needed a boost of Christmas joy, there it was.

Song of jubilation, indeed.

Rolling those works...

2009-12-13T00:28:00.002-06:00

It's 10:29. The night is young.

In the library. Took ibuprofen. Have the water and the snacks. Last night I brought chocolate but tonight? Tonight I brought a cheesestick, an apple, the chocolate, a peppermint brownie, and a little bag of cold chicken pesto pasta.

I also have a sign. I made it last night, after I google-chatted with Amy about how I really have no idea about the answers to the prompt for one of my final papers, cried a little, and then the Lord nudged my little heart into courage through this verse:

Proverbs 16:3~ Roll your works upon the Lord [commit and trust them wholly to Him; He will cause your thoughts to become agreeable to His will, and] so shall your plans be established and succeed.

So I made a sign of it and propped it up on the computer.

I also have a schedule my friend Helen made me of how to finish everything for my finals. So many people have survived college! I will too, right?

I am so thankful that no matter how many times I say it, no matter how "normal" my struggles might be or "unimportant" as something like schoolwork might sound, the Lord is my helper. Even in this, the Holy Spirit reminds me of things I need to write or where to find information. He sits with me and talks with me and is the reason I can stay awake.

***

Tonight we had a Christmas party and we went caroling! If you have never been caroling before, you must do it! Take small children with you, small children make everything more fun. :) Sing fun songs and the kids will love it and your neighbors will LOVE it. Caleb started walking around singing: "Joy to da wooord, aaah da boys an guhhhs..." Yay for Christmas parties!

The Finals are Coming! The Finals are Coming!

2009-12-07T18:05:00.004-06:00

Please tell me at least one of you saw that movie when you were little: "The Russians are coming! The Russians are coming!" Maybe me and Laura were the only ones, but I doubt it.

Finals are upon us. Our last classes are this Wednesday (count it...TWO DAYS), and then Thursday and Friday makes up what my school calls "Reading Period." I like to think romantic thoughts about spending Thursday and Friday being incredibly studious and learning everything I could possibly learn about the French language, but I'm guessing those days will consist more of getting some sleep, running a little, maybe an impromptu accompanying to Costco with Jena and the kids, and a little parlez vous Francais? thrown in just for fun.

What did your schools call this period of ~~agony~~ time right before the big week? Chris takes great issue with the fact that my school uses such a lifeless name as "Reading Week." I guess PLU calls it "Dead Week." Those Lutes, always bein' honest.

My friend and I walked into church last night and Chris immediately saw the fatigue on our faces. "What's wrong? You've got that look..." {Can I just say, the people I live with can totally read me? I mean, I know I'm not the hardest person to read, but Chris & Jena can pick up on stuff in an instant!} I begrudgingly answered: "Oh, my paper...it's not going so well."

A few minutes later Lindsay and I were just standing around, waiting for stuff to start and Chris passed us again. This time, a simple one-liner (in a very happy tone of voice, I might add, which was completely opposite of the looks on our faces): "You're being anxious... [and then ever so matter-of-factly:] That's a sin." Then a few minutes later he passed us again with a one-word reminder: "sin!" He was totally being funny, but man...I was convicted! It is sin! Even when finals are coming up! Even when you totally bombed that last test! Even when for some strange reason your fingers just will not move the way Mendelssohn wants them to! Sin! Sin, sin, sin! Anxiety is sin!

~ Philippians 4:6 (ESV)~
"Do not be anxious about anything."

~ 1 Peter 5:7 (ESV) ~
"...casting all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you."

~ Matthew 6:27 (ESV) ~
"And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to the span of his life?"

I'm fairly sure Jesus knew that finals [insert your anxiety here] would come up when He chose to banish anxiety. Do you think the omniscient God forgot that you would have a hard day on December 7, 2009 or that your job wouldn't pay enough to cover rent or that your child would be away in a far off land when He said that you don't have to worry? You don't have to worry at all. Not at all. He cares more about you than you care about yourself.

So I am asking the Holy Spirit for help to set my mind set on the things of God. He is working something in me during this week of finals, I know it.

If you need me to walk by you and whisper a little reminder about sin, just let me know. :)

No one else can love You like I love You...

2009-12-06T16:06:00.000-06:00

No One Else Can Love You from Adam Parker on Vimeo.

A Blog in which I write about nothing in particular, in an attempt to vent my nonsense BEFORE the final paper.

2009-12-03T22:12:00.003-06:00

As I begin this blog, the Muppets have begun to sing in my kitchen about the merriness that should encompass your Christmas. Hey, it's Christmas! Merry Christmas!

Can I just put my vote in on something? It's inspired by Emery... I like eggnog. [really like, even!] I also like eggnog lattes, but they're best when you put a little pump of vanilla syrup in them.

Speaking of lattes, have I told you that I'm basically a barista now? The people I live with are big coffee fans, and I've been taught the art of steaming milk and pouring tiny glasses of creamy brown liquid stuffs into said milk. Oh, it is a glorious thing.

Also, I like chocolate. And the strength of my affinity for rice krispy treats is alarming, considering I'm supposed to be somewhat grown up now, or sumfin.

Take a Deep Breath

2009-11-30T13:32:00.002-06:00

This morning I hit the snooze button for a very long time. Don't ask how long, because I don't want to tell you.

Then I laid there and told the Lord quite plainly: "I really don't want to go to school. I'm tired..." and on I went. It was like a continuation of last nights question I put to Jena: "Would it be wrong to skip school tomorrow?" Then (Praise the Lord, I know He made this possible) I sat up, turned on my light, grabbed my Bible, turned on some worship and started going through what you might call a warm-up for the day. It's more important than coffee to stave off that caffeine headache I've started getting. It's more important than picking out the right sweater or getting my eyeliner on in a somewhat orderly fashion.

I know we are called to constantly search out the Lord, without the need for a crisis to arise and make us cry out for help, but I don't feel guilty about telling you that this morning was a desperate reach for oxygen just to be able to get out of bed and on with my day. The only thing that will get me through these classes, the big paper, and piano practice is life and truth, straight from the source. So with that, my heart opened up with each verse:

"For by You I can run against a troop, and by my God I can leap over a wall. This God -- His way is perfect; the word of the Lord proves true."

"...we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us. We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf..."

"Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain."

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

and the one I quoted to Chris & Jena for how I was going to get through today: "For this I toil, struggling with all his energy that he powerfully works within me."

I need His energy, I'm really glad He gives it. Hope is confident expectation of good, and THAT is what Jesus sent me out the door with this morning.

It's only two weeks until Christmas break! I have stuff to do [ahem, finals]...but it is so close, and I am going to keep taking deep breaths and running on His energy and grace. See you soon!

Somebody Else Can Drive

2009-11-19T00:52:00.005-06:00

I remember walking down the hallway in Jones Hall at school and thinking: "that could be a fun thing to blog about," but it has taken me a second to remember what that fun thing was. I think I twittered it, but now I can blog about it so that you, whoever you may be that still reads this sparsely updated blog, may be entertained, informed, and generally edified.

There is something here in WA called "The Pass". I heard about it here, there, and everywhere. 'Oh, you have to go over the Pass.' 'Oh, wouldn't you have to drive through the Pass?' 'that was a great Pass!' oh wait...uhhh...

Eventually I caught on: all true Washingtonians talk about the Pass. So I did what any good acclimater would do: I started talking about the Pass. 'Isn't that over the Pass?' 'Don't you want to avoid the Pass?' 'Please Pass the salad dressing.' I didn't really know what it was...until tonight. I asked about it, because I might be going somewhere next week, and 'the Pass' divides me and that somewhere.

It's snowy. It's cold. It's wet. It's wind-y. There are cliffs on the two sides. The term "the Pass" is actually a misnomer, because there are multiple passes, some of which are better kept than others. There are mountains dividing Eastern and Western Washington, so coming from Tacoma (Western WA, next to the water) you have to drive through the snowy mountains to get to the desert of Eastern Washington. It's somewhat intimidating, and even though Tacoma won't have snow on Thanksgiving, the big P probably will.

Whatever, I think Sasquatch might be hiding there.

Freedom. {from pants. kinda sorta.}

2009-11-13T21:29:00.005-06:00

Oh boy, there is just so much going on! How to sum it up in one blog post? It may or may not be impossible. In fact, it probably is, so...I will pick one thing and write about it. I want to write about it, because there are so many women struggling with this, and God is doing a work in my life, that I hope will be used to be a signpost to others that there is freedom and peace to be found in Jesus.

The amazing lady I live with and her friends have a ministry called "Am I Beautiful?" They do a set of four sessions for girls, with worship, teaching, and prayer. Calling it a ministry makes it sound so official...basically they each have their stories of the way Jesus set them free. Yes, set free from body image and self-hatred, but I love that when they talk, those issues are only the beginning. When it comes down to it, these women are full of life and overflowing from being in love with Jesus, and they get to tell younger women about what it's like to live for Jesus and know His freedom.

They did an Am I Beautiful? series at my college last month, and one of my friends got saved!! Is there a way to describe with words how wonderful that is??

Jena and the ladies finished the series at UPS, and then last Tuesday began another one for girls from a local high school. I went to it, and heard Jena's testimony again. It is POWERFUL! She challenged: you are made in the image of God! You can look at the mountains and see God's creation, and be moved to praise Him, but the mountains weren't made in His image! How many times have you looked in the mirror and praised the Lord: "Wow, God! You did a GOOD WORK here!"

So my story...my story is that while I listened to Jena's testimony, I was convicted over something, something I had forgotten, something I hadn't even thought of before: the pants. Those brown ones, sitting in the bottom of my drawer. Let me tell you the story of the pants.

I began struggling with self-hatred at a VERY young ago (think 4). You can look at my school pictures, I was a stick through 2nd grade, because my mom couldn't get me to eat anything; I still don't have revelation of why. A few years ago, what was it -- my 2nd/Junior year of high school -- I began to exercise hard, and started limiting what I ate. I never stopped eating completely, but I most certainly was not just "being healthy." While I physically got thin, I was terrified on the inside. Absolutely terrified. I felt like I was on the edge of the cliff of an eating disorder, and I thought over and over and over again: "What in the world?! How can Anna Peterson be struggling with this?" I felt like I had such a reputation to hold up, and this most certainly was not the way to do it. Terrified really is the word. People tried to reassure me that I was just being healthy, but I just knew that it was more than that.

On the outside, I seemed fine. It made me smile when people told me how tiny I was. I could outrun all the boys at school. And the pants...I went shopping with my sister one day to one of the cutest stores I know of, and on the clearance rack found these brown pants, in a smaller size than I'd ever worn before. After trying them on, I went up to buy them, and I remember my sister looking at them, looking at me in shock, and whispering: "Annie...you're a size _??" with concern. I bought them and went on my way.

When I moved to Kansas City, things got better. I stopped restricting what I ate, and generally the Lord brought healing and restoration to every area of my life. Things got better in the physical (glory!), but I still thought about it, and I held myself to standards that were not from the Lord.

This is where the pants come in. Since then I have had more and more breakthrough... Let me just take a moment and say to the ladies: be bold about this! You were not made to meet a standard the world sets; you were made in the image of God, and He did a GOOD work when He made you! You are beautiful. I absolutely recommend practically walking this out. Stand in front of the mirror and praise the Lord, look at yourself and say with your mouth (the power of life and death is in the tongue) that you are beautiful, and perfect just the way you are. It will affect you! Guard your eyes, when you walk past the windows and the mirrors, from sizing yourself up for the 20th time that day. Encourage other women that they are beautiful, tell them their eyes shine, turn the focus off yourself!

So fast forward to Tuesday night...I realized that I have kept those pants in the bottom of my drawer, even though they don't fit anymore. Every time I saw them, I would think: "Well, not today, but maybe some day again..." That was not freedom! The Lord convicted me on Tuesday on this piece of it all...I am not going to be held to that standard! I had to get rid of the pants. As soon as we got home, I ran downstairs, grabbed them and handed them off to Jena. It was so freeing to be able to say "I never need to be that size again ever. Ever. Ever. Ever." I never want to live in that bondage ever again, ever.

Thank you, Jesus! Thank you for FREEDOM! Thank You for freedom. Thank You that you call me lovely. Thank You that You set Your children free. Know the truth, ladies! You are beautiful, created to display the glory of God. You, right now, no matter what size you are, no matter how straight your hair is, no matter how defined your cheek bones are (oh, I know the thoughts)...you display the glory of God! Live it, because you do. You have a purpose, and the enemy has stood with his foot on your neck for too long, trying to subdue that purpose. You are made to radiate who Jesus is, and who He made you to be shines to glorify Him. Self-hatred has no place in you. No place at all.

You belong to Jesus.

Just Ask

2009-10-29T17:18:00.002-05:00

There are times when I turn on the webstream to the Prayer Room, and everything turns around. When I'm feeling bogged down, the worship of the Lord happening in that room fills my ears and things change. Some days, it's like a specific gift from the Lord sent from Kansas City, just for me: today Luke Wood sang a song I've been wanting to hear for a long time, and I was convinced Jesus did it just for me. :)

Yesterday, sitting in my office, my heart started that pull down off of joy, and it bobbed right back up as Laura Hackett got on the stage and started singing the songs of the Lord.

There is no pit too deep that Jesus cannot reach
There is no sorrow so strong that could overtake His beloved one.

He's brought me to the wilderness where I will learn to sing.
And He lets me know my barrenness so I will learn to lean.

Beautiful Mercy, do what You have to do.
Jealous Lover, do what You have to do to bring forth love in me.

then

What do I do here in the waiting?
What do I do with my unsatisfied heart?
What do I do here in the waiting?
Here in the tension of believing again and again and again.

There's a lack, there's a gap in my soul
Between the things that I believe and I know

Holy Spirit, You who fill
All in All, come and fill me
Holy Spirit, come hold me together

I love that last stanza. We so often see the lack, or we become unsatisfied with where our heart is. We know we want more -to be more surrendered, to understanding His love more, whatever it may be- and we know God has more. But I so often forget! When we see this gap, our eyes can turn and see the One who fills all in all. He can fill us, and we must be willing to make space by throwing off "the sin which clings so closely".

He is the Helper -- have you asked Him for help recently?

Second Thought for the Day. Whoa, I'm on a roll.

2009-10-25T21:57:00.002-05:00

My last post may have seemed like one big advertisement, but I promise, I just got a little excited about all these powerful teachings I've been hearing!

Here, now, is my second group of thoughts for today.

I believe it wouldn't be a stretch to come to a conclusion right here and now about college. I know, I know, I'm only about seven weeks in, but here's the deal.

There are many, many subjects you study. You might be in a class about politics, but you'll talk about the global food crisis. You can imagine how many subjects my Suburban/Urban America class has broached.

I know I'm new at this, but it seems to me that the point of studying these problems is two (well, maybe three)-fold. 1) to understand more about the world around you. 2) to identify how they affect you in your own life. and my main thought, number 3) To figure out how maybe we could solve the problem. I mean, who wants to look at (let alone spend thousands of dollars to hear about) a problem and then say "oh well, that's a doozy of a problem. Too bad for the world." Uhhhhhhhhh.

So whenever I look at, or read about, or listen to a lecture about these problems, the wheels of my mind get a'turnin'. They kind of creak out of stillness with this sort of thought: "hmmm...this is a problem. There should be an answer to this problem. I wonder what the answer is..." and then get a good roll started with something like "what if this person changed the way they thought..." See now, this sort of thought only lasts a second or two as it quickly tumbles into: "well, what would the Bible say about how this person could change the way they think?" Which, in turn leads to full speed ahead, race-winning pace thinking that simply goes like this: "They could get SAVED!" It's brilliant. No really, I promise, it's brilliant. And I can say that because I didn't think of it.

It all comes back to Jesus. I dare say there will never be a problem where you can leave God out of the solution. You got a global Food Crisis? Jesus has a plan to come back and establish perfect justice across the world. You got hatred across racial lines? When invited in, Jesus changes everything about the way a person thinks and makes him able to think more highly of his neighbor than of himself. You got a complicated Calculus problem? MAN, God is brilliant, and guess what? He's even orderly in the way He created everything! You know how I know? Math works!

Whenever we step out: into our classrooms, into our workplaces, into our grocery stores, into our pizza parlors, we have to step out with our feet strapped with the readiness that comes from the Gospel of Peace. Glue the Bible to everything you do. Everything. At no point in time will you EVER be going too far by applying the Bible to what you're facing or thinking about. In fact, you're in big trouble if you ever try to separate yourself, your thinking, or your problem-solving from the absolute truth.

Afraid of being a "Bible-thumper"? Knock that fear right out of your head: it's true, you are called to speak in love with grace and gentleness, but you are never, ever, ever called to separate that speech from the Truth. Back-door discipleship -- it's really great, you should try it if you haven't already. You can speak Biblical truths without even saying they're from the Bible! Bit by bit, you'll be speaking truth to deaf ears around you and, the truth will begin setting them free and eventually they'll want to know where (ahem...from WHOM) you get all this truth that makes up a pretty wild way of living. Don't be afraid! Be bold with the fact that you know the answer. Really, it's not prideful to say the way of the Bible, the road that by God's grace you are walking on, is the only way. Because it is. It's the only way, and you don't have any time to waste being afraid that you'll offend people.

Because guess what? No matter how much this world rails against it, what the Bible says is still true, and what it says is going to happen is still going to happen. "When the saints come marching in, I wanna be in the number..." Imagine yourself dumped in the middle of the ocean with a lifeboat, except the people you're with think they can make it to the African coast on their own, just swimming. Are you gonna bail the lifeboat, just because people don't think it's cool? No way! You're going to call to them, and tell them the truth, that the only way they're going to survive is to get in the lifeboat with you. It really is that serious. That person, whoever they may be, that you talk to tomorrow is probably headed to eternal misery, because they don't know what Jesus did for them on that cross.

Maybe you should tell them.

Putting the Pieces Together

2009-10-25T16:35:00.002-05:00

I may be putting them together in a blog post, but I'm not necessarily weaving them altogether. Ha.

1. Bob Sorge has been at City Central this weekend, and it has been amazing. There is a power of God on his teaching; he has truly been refined by the fire, and if he's talking, you want to listen. If you have any chance to read what he's written, or listen to his preaching, DO IT! [I just went to his ministry's website for the first time, and they have free sermon downloads! Blog-reading friend, I'm telling you, you will not regret downloading those and learning from this man. His voice was damaged in a surgery 17 years ago, so he can't speak above a whisper and not for very long. It has been the crisis of his life, and there is SUCH FRUIT of the way he has walked with God since.]

It was really exciting to have him and his family here, because it was like I could just look up, and the front row looked like Kansas City! This morning I got to talk with Anna and get caught up on the Kansas City news, and it was wonderful. I LOVE being here in Tacoma, AND I love Kansas City!

2. I've been listening to John Bevere's teaching series on Honor. I am so thankful for all the resources that the family I live with have that I get to share. Messages and books...it's wonderful. :) I am getting blown up by this series! There are principles of honor in the Bible that I have never seen before: like Hannah...when Eli accused her of being drunk, she responded to him with honor. Jesus was limited in what miracles He could do in a place because the people there didn't honor Him. Anyways, yet again...if you can get the book or hear the teachings, do it! I am being so encouraged and challenged! If you're going to listen, be ready to get convicted and repent. :)

3. I have homework. Adios.

It's not about me. Or you, in fact.

2009-10-21T13:54:00.003-05:00

I don't exactly know how to describe the way I feel about Randy & Kelsey Bohlender. They are close friends, but I admire them greatly. They've mentored me in rough moments, but then just poured me fizzy lemonade at others. They basically live the life I want to live. It's true. Getting to run with them in the last year was something the Lord used to put dreams in my heart. I just want to share with you Randy's explanation of why they do what they do. Read it here.

Phenomenon

2009-10-13T23:56:00.003-05:00

Funny how I leave Kansas City and...begin learning more from Mike Bickle.

One of the little boys I live with likes to ask me: "Annie, is Mike Bickle at IHOP?" Oh, I wish you could hear his little inflection of "AYE-hop". :)

When I moved here, I obviously started college. One of the phenomenons of college is that all of a sudden, you have no free moment. You might have an hour where nothing is scheduled, but there are two different readings you could be working on then, or you could be practicing piano, or you could be formulating potential research topics for a paper that's not due for two months but your teacher gave you the info sheet yesterday. Yeah, any of those things.

So I move into my house and the amazing (really, she is AMAZING) lady I live with began telling me about Mike's message: "The Power of a Focused Life." You know, there a lot of Mike's messages I flew away from Kansas City never having heard, and that is one of them. So she handed me her iPod and told me to listen to it, and we'd go over my schedule.

It's about living with purpose! Making your time fruitful! Think of that - what if you made a conscious decision to spend your time in a way that bore fruit?! His (and mine now :) action plan is this: write out your LIFE goals (where do you want to be when you're 50) and then out of that draw short term goals, which will help you take steps to fulfill the life goals. Then, of course, your schedule begins to reflect that.

I have life goals that I can't do while I'm in college, but I can start looking at what majors would best prepare and equip me to work towards those goals. So, going on my calendar is a slot of time to sit down with the school bulletin and look at what I could study.

See? Simple as that. Try it!

In which I summarize

2009-10-12T18:13:00.002-05:00

Hello.

My name is Annie, and I do still enjoy blogging.

The past few weeks have been a blur. College is...college!

It's been a very interesting time. It's like I have to remind myself that my identity is not what classes I'm taking or how much homework I should do before I go to sleep. My life...my life is not school. My life is hidden with Christ. My call right now? Be at school, do the work, be a light. But my identity? Daughter of the King.

It's a fight, this college life. I came fully knowing my purpose. In fact, I still know it. Jesus told me to come to this university and tell people about him. Basic, preach the gospel, 101. It's happening. I couldn't tell you all the Divine set-ups, the times the Lord's whispered something only to have it happen, the times He tells me to talk to someone and it bears fruit. He has a plan for this place, for these people, and I know it because He is acting. Friends, I go to one of the most liberal universities in the state of WA (in fact, my school is 6th on the list of prestigious schools with the least amount of Christian representation. SIXTH.) and I am having people I barely know say to me: "Can I come to church with you?" It's wild.

The work is intense, but, big surprise!, it turns out to be a teachable moment in multiple ways. Actually, I may just post a journal entry about that as its own post.

I do miss home; but I'm learning that even as I miss it and stay connected the IHOP family, I must guard my heart from day-dreaming about being back there and losing vision for why I am here.

One comment said that people would like to hear about my classes. French is going well. I'm not fluent yet, but at least I can say "J'adore Jesus." A friend was pointing out to me the other day that I never know when it might be useful to be able to share the gospel in French!

Statistics is actually somewhat enjoyable. That's about all there is to say about that, unless you want to know something about taking a stratified sample from a population of mountain goats in Eastern Swaziland.

International Political Economy is in a victory spot at the moment. Today I handed in my first mid-term paper, written on the economic stimulus bill Congress passed this past February. I was part of a group that had to present on the Financial Crisis during these past two weeks, and I'm actually kind of thankful that I learned more than I knew before. What? You actually learn at college? CRAZY!

English is, umm, probably the most difficult class for me. It's not because of the workload, but more because it is the class where I most run into the ideologies that do not submit themselves to Christ. This is the class where I sit and think "Vanity, vanity, all is vanity." There is so much the human mind can choose to think about and dwell on, and let me tell you,fallen men philosophizing and theorizing on their own apart from the Holy Spirit is not very edifying. Today I sat in class and alternated between feeling like my blood was racing through me at triple speed and just laughing to myself, because my views are just so different. We were talking about gender roles today... Our reading was somewhat feminist and quite anti-marriage, and I had to take a break and intake a verse that is now on my list of favorites:

"An excellent wife who can find? She is far more precious than jewels. The heart of her husband trusts in her..." ~Prov. 31

Today I came out with saying that the author was wrong to assume that women from the 1950's were lying when they said they were most fulfilled by spending their lives raising their families and gave what could probably be put down as one of the theses of my life: "I honestly think raising children is one of the most important things you can do." I'm thankful for a friend from that class who, after we moved onto our next class, agreed with me about having a different view: "I know...I'm kind of scared to say that I want to be a mom." What would it take to see a change in what is taught? Salvation. That's what it would take.

It's interesting in my work to get to the point of "yeah, we do have all these problems...but Jesus is coming back and will make all the wrong things right." In a discussion about Political Economy, we were talking about how what would be the right solution doesn't actually always happen because of partisan politics. This made me think (and tweet): one day, Jesus is going to come back and be the perfect King, and rule in absolute righteousness and justice, with no politics or cynicism. I look forward to that day.

So here I am, I'm in college, and the Lord is holding me up. I'm praying for provision (my computer is not very happy), and I'm learning how to walk in my identity in the Lord, and I'm learning how to war for the purposes of the Lord in my life, and I'm learning how to hold up my shield of faith, and I'm learning how to tell people about Jesus... The list could go on and on and on of what God is doing in this season, but MAN! all of it is good.

"He put a new song in my mouth,
a song of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear
and put their trust in the LORD."
~Psalm 40:3

I Will Survive

2009-09-28T22:40:00.002-05:00

Today I floated home with a huge smile on my face.

You see, I left the house feeling beat up. A friend of mine once described it as feeling "like target practice for the enemy." I had a hard time surviving my first class and knew that if I didn't get whatever this weight was lifted off of me, I would spend the next three classes struggling to catch my breath.

I called Amy, nearly in tears, just asking if she would go to the Lord with me. Before we even asked what was causing this turmoil, she prayed: "Lord, I just ask that whatever this is coming against Annie, that you would just defend her, Jesus..." and the door of my heart opened a little bit wider to peace. She heard from the Lord what it was, I repented, we broke it off, and I could breathe again. That weight -- it's called false guilt and condemnation -- is exactly that: a weight. You walk around with your shoulders slumped and your mind racing to figure out what in the world you did wrong and how in the world you could do better?

And then the Lord brings clarity and conviction and you realize: "What am I doing? Jesus BOUGHT me! His blood washes me totally and completely clean! DUDE!" (Or at least, that's how it goes in my head. :)

"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death." ~Romans 8:1-2

So that was victory #1. The Lord's power is real, friends! It literally took a few minutes with Jesus and my entire day turned around.

I'm thankful that I got out of English early, because I got to run to the cafeteria and buy food. I had a hunch it was the wise thing to do, or else my brain might shut off somewhere between regression lines and Bonjour!

Then I got my Statistics test back...the one I thought I might fail. 88. 88!! EIGHTY-EIGHT! I texted my whole family and got the best response ever from my dad:

"Yayyy. R.u. Getting nuff sleep n good.food.. Must. Keep. In good health. Love. U much. Dad"

I seriously adore texts from my dad. He's not ashamed to stay he's still figuring the whole texting scene out, and these kinds of texts are the results. Seriously, I love them.

Then I went to French. And I found out my grade for last week's test. That other one I thought I might fail; yeah, that first test ever of college. Ummm...WAY better grade than I thought!

Thus, I floated home happy. Absolutely, blissfully happy.

Tonight I babysat the kiddos so their parents could go on a date. There's something different about babysitting to facilitate dates. Someone can ask: "hey - can you watch our kids? We have a meeting..." but then you get a text saying: "Hey, could you watch our kids tonight so I can take my wife on a date?" I just well up inside and it's a different feeling: "You want to take your hero wife out, and give her some rest, and tell her she's wonderful, and get to talk without a child asking you for something every 30 seconds? Yes! Yes, I'll watch your children! Go, quick, leave, get out of here!" Yay dates.

Zuchinni Bread. Or Cake. Or Zuchinni Cake.

2009-09-26T01:04:00.003-05:00

So, I don't necessarily have the ability to piece together a real blog post at the moment. I'm actually needing to go to bed... I arrived home from classes and such today ready to weep from exhaustion and envisioning myself collapsing onto the couch or crumbling onto the kitchen floor. Thankfully, I stayed upright, kept my wits about me, and did some dishes. Oh yeah, also somewhere in there I thought: "hey, maybe I just need to eat...all I had was a bagel and a white mocha somewhere around English o'clock in an only-slightly successful attempt to wake myself up." In response to that thought, I grabbed an apple and paced and cried. That's right, people...pacing while eating an apple. That should count as my personal "chew gum and pat your stomach" or whatever that deal is.

The burrito I microwaved for dinner and some intense webstreamage helped, and I have actually gotten some good relaxation in tonight, involving candles and a Misty set. I also got a good piece of homework done. What a night!

To top it all off, I got to skype with:

1) my niece Ariel's birthday party...the Kansas City folk were looking as wonderful as ever and Samuel is walking. Walking, I said.

2) my sister and nieces in Hawaii!! The girls were adorable, my sister was as beautiful as ever... and lastly,

3) my brother, who is currently off of his floating city at his first port of the deployment. Yay Sam!

Now onto what I was actually planning on saying. Reading Jessica's blog never fails to make me smile, think to myself "man, I wish I could write like that", or just plain laugh out loud. Tonight, this post in particular was enjoyable, and it reminded me of a quotable from a few weeks ago.

I was in the middle of one of my preliminary attempts at baking in Tacoma (I'll admit I have gotten a little worried that I had forgotten to pack the cake anointing when I came...though the people I live with assure me it can't be true), and Jena stopped and said to me: "Annie! Your husband is going to rise up and call you blessed: "YES! I married a baker!"

And that's my quotable, folks. Tune in next time for a recap of Statistics homework. Er, I mean, oh nevermind.

The Absence is Explainable

2009-09-25T01:43:00.003-05:00

Oh, there is so much I could write. I logged onto blogger tonight to find out that there is also so much I could read. My life has been hijacked by college. I don't know what I expected, but somehow I forgot that part of being on a college campus is, uh, being in college, and let's just say I have hardly read any blogs in the past weeks, much less wrote any (which you well know).

Since it is 11:45pm, and though I am reveling in the glory of having just finished my four-page paper, the truth is I have more to read. Writing for the general public's edification and encouragement (hopefully) will have to wait for the weekend (which is only, like, 20 hours away). I'll leave you with this: tonight, in trying to survive Paper-Mania, I began going through the Jesus Culture songs on YouTube. We've all heard "How He Loves", but the other ones I have somehow missed out on. Don't ask how many times I listened to "Your Love Never Fails", or "Your Love is Everything"...and then there was this one. These are the kinds of verses that make me just melt into begging the Lord to let me write songs. Listen to it a few times, rewind it so you can hear it again: "Words can never say the way He says my name..."

News Bulletin

2009-09-18T04:38:00.002-05:00

Since I lasted posted, I've flown across the entire country twice, attended a miracle wedding, been on a real New Jersey boardwalk, gotten kicked out of my house temporarily by an emergency situation (the plan is to be back home on Monday), prayed a lot, cried a little, drank [not enough] coffee, been to class, zoned out in class, decided that no, I really don't know how to speak French, and made one brownie last three days.

But right now, all I really have to say is that it is 2:42 am, I have read my English book, done my French homework, attempted to do Statistics -- only to get through one problem in half an hour -- and am now moving onto International Political Economy.

Also, the goldfish container ran out at 1 o'clock. This is really a problem.

My friends who are doing the 6am in Kansas City are probably just waking up. Good morning, friends!

Yippeeeeee!!!!

2009-09-11T00:44:00.002-05:00

This time tomorrow, Lord-willing, I will be with my sisters and my mom on the East Coast.

Glory.

Seriously, could it be better timed? I spend a few weeks out on my own at college, get a feel for what it's like, then hop on a plane to be in the arms of the ones most dear. *Sigh* I'm happy.

The other night I just needed a hug...being away from all my sisters and friends in KC left me somewhat lonely, as I'm still trying to settle myself in the community here again. All the people are as amazing as before, I am just so preoccupied with school stuff and homework that I don't see them very often. This has led to me having to remind myself that I am not on an island. I have also decided that homework can always be done later (aka between Midnight and 3am) if it means I get to go spend some time with the people I'm dying to hang out with but haven't been able to.

In other news, an acquaintance from IHOP showed up at my back door! Literally, I saw a Tacoma friend's car outside, heard Jena talking to "Candace" and turned the corner to see a girl I totally know from IHOP! I had no idea she was coming, and I have a feeling that she won't be the last one to show up at my doorstep. :) As I twittered, if anyone else feels the need to hop on a plane and visit, I would love to see some more familiar faces.

Can I say I'm happy one more time? I'm HAPPY! I'm seeing my family tomorrow!!! Oooh...I need to pack.

Read it. And maybe read it one more time.

2009-09-09T03:36:00.002-05:00

So we're not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There's far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can't see now will last forever.

~2 Corinthians 4:16-18 (the Message)

One Week

2009-09-04T23:44:00.002-05:00

"College is overwhelmingly busy. All of a sudden, you wonder if the rest of life exists anymore."

In a skype conversation with some friends tonight, I summed it all up this way. I'm sitting here, having enjoyed a vanilla chai and a snickerdoodle as a congratulations to myself on finishing a week of college.

I'm physically exhausted, every muscle in my body feels fatigued, but my spirit is alive and encouraged; at the same time, though, my heart is burdened.

Last night I read an assigned transcript of a speech, and as I finished the last line, all I could do was sit there and pray "Oh, God..." Below the end of the text I wrote Matthew 9:36:

When [Jesus] saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

The level of hopelessness was astounding; when man tries to fix his own problems, disaster ensues. Everything comes to ruin apart from God. Everything. Vanity, vanity, all is vanity.

I sat in class on Wednesday and just thought: "I can think of nothing worse than not knowing Jesus..." I am tenaciously thankful for being in this spot where salvation is coming up close and personal again. My heart, by the grace of God, it can no longer be cold toward the lost, because now they're my friends. I want them to know Jesus. I will fight and pray...fight and pray, until they know the Man who died for them.

I want this compassion to grow every day -- the compassion Jesus felt when He saw the lost. Harassed and helpless... Oh, that they would know the kindness and tenderness of Jesus. Oh, that they would know Him. Oh, that they would know.

The Beginning

2009-08-31T13:21:00.003-05:00

This morning I looked out my little basement window and decided that, like the other days of the past week, the morning might look cloudy and rainy but soon the sun will peek out and shine joy all around.

I thought about what to wear to my first day of classes, and knew I had made a brilliant plan last night but couldn't remember what it was. Finally it came back: red shoes! Sadly, this plan became impossible, as my white shirt is in the laundry basket. Plan B became a purple shirt and black flats that click when I walk. I'll be changing those shoes before my next class.

I got hugs and high-fives from the little boys I live with, ran out the door, and leaped down the stairs to the sidewalk. I thought I wanted a upbeat, high tempo song to pump me up, but ended up listening to Tim sing about joyfully not being able to wait. There is a mist in the air, that at first makes you wonder if you're being rained on, but then you realize that instead it's a cool, wet breath pressing on your face. The tops of the high evergreens are surrounded by fog, and it's a very Pacific Northwest morning.

The class itself was more of an overview of how to do the work and take the class, but that didn't change the fact that it was revolutionary, beginning something new. It happened -- I started -- I'm a college student.

Wow.

Music, music everywhere!

2009-08-31T11:00:00.000-05:00

These are my lovely friends Christina and Chelsea, singing to me at my goodbye party. Christina and I have the sort of friendship where my heart just gets so full of love for her, and I'm reminded to look back at Jesus and say "You! You did this...thank you." There are just those people that you know Jesus set you up with, and Christina is one of those people in my life. We always talk about Jesus, and we laugh together, and we're still growing to know each other more with 2,000 miles between us. She said the grand goal of this song was to make me both laugh and cry in the process of one chord progression. It happened! Congratulations, girls...

Plus, don't they have the prettiest voices you've ever heard?

******

I just wanted to say that Amy is doing a give-away of Bethany Dillon's new cd! I only got my first cd of Bethany's a few months ago (even though I knew some of her songs already), and every time I listened to it, I just kept thinking that she would fit so well as a worship leader at IHOP! That's a set I want to be in. :)

Google Calendar is my friend

2009-08-30T22:57:00.003-05:00

Click on the picture to see it bigger and know what I'm doing every moment of every day. Should this be on the interwebs?

I'm beginning to feel like my life is defined by various shades of blue, red, and one very burnt orange.

Classes mean studying, and music means practicing, and once everything adds up, I find myself scheduling every moment of my day. The yellow you see above is committed time to studying (and yes, I know I'll need more than that -- this schedule is still a work in progress). If you notice, the purple-ish colored boxes are labeled simply "Jesus". I HAVE to get time with him, or I will burn out in exactly 2.5 seconds. I think I'm even going to give myself set time to be on facebook or blogs, and I was planning on working in one mid-week nap, but the chance of that is looking slim. When I was working on this last night, I totally forgot about needing to schedule in work, which is a pretty bad thing to forget to schedule. Also, piano lesson. I should e-mail my teacher and say: "Sorry, my only available time for a lesson in Sunday morning at 6am. Work for you?"

I'm currently desperate to listen to Mike's Power of a Focused Life message, so as to jumpstart myself in this. Well, by the colors above, you can tell I've kind of already jumpstarted.

Using Google Calendar makes me happy. Something about the colors, and feeling like everything is organized, and figuring out the best way to alert myself to Chloe's birthday only being a week away... On my backpacking trip we had to share "guilty pleasures"; mine was reading Real Simple. Real Simple's tagline should be: "How to Make Everything in Your Life Perfect." Actually, it kinds of makes my perfectionism (that will die...it's a process) manifest like crazy. That and The Container Store -- the combination of the two would be scary.

Any tips on my schedule? New color to add? Schedule time to drink coffee? Actually a little "you will survive this" comment would be great right now, thanks.

**Also, if you look closely in the picture, the tab next to the Calendar is labeled "How to take a screenshot..." I put effort into my blogs. :)**

The update of all updates

2009-08-29T00:19:00.001-05:00

Pardon my partial absence from the blog for the past few days...starting a whole new life takes a little bit of time and energy. I intend to catch you up though, worry not.

A good portion of that energy was spent on a backpacking trip in the Olympic mountains. To orient you, here's a map:

So I live in Tacoma (see bottom right of map) and I hiked a mountain somewhere in the Olympic National Park. (I think...maybe we were in "Quilcene". I know we were in the actual park at some point). It's part of Orientation for school -- you get split into little groups, based on what activity you chose to do. I opted for backpacking in the mountains (a two-night trip), and got paired with a fun group, led by people who I now owe my life to. I mean, I wouldn't dare venture off on the side of a mountain and then sleep in the cold forest all by myself, but my leader Kevin is pretty much the outdoor expert at the college, and I'm alive.

As the name implies, we packed a ton of stuff into backpacks. There were all sorts of requirements: No Cotton, long underwear, fleece, summerweight wool, and the phrase "near-freezing temperatures" was thrown around as if it was as light as a badmitton birdie. I wasn't totally sure what to expect.

I got up early, said goodbye to my dad. (my dad came to make sure I was all settled here in Tacoma - WHAT A BLESSING! It was amazing; I'm so glad he came. He bought me nice things for my room to make it home and just totally blessed me being here) I boarded a bus, which proved to not be quite so simple as it sounds. Imagine me with a huge backpack on. Oh wait, here's a picture:

Okay, so we take off from the college, but as we get on the highway, we slowly begin to catch on that something's wrong because, well, we're going 35 in a 55 mile zone. 35 begins to turn into 25, which eventually turns into 15, and we start switching between driving in the breakdown lane and in normal traffic. Eventually a different bus has to come get us (after dropping off it's passengers at base camp). It was a hurdle, but we all made it. Throughout the rest of the trip, random things with my group kept going different than expected. We had to turn back on our first day and ended up camping at a different campsite than planned and switching our hike plans, and when we finally finished our trail at the end of the last day, our van (which was waiting for us at the end of the trail) wouldn't start! We tried to jump it

but it was actually, truly broken. Our leader got a ride down the main highway to get cellphone service, then sat there for an hour waiting for a new van to come pick us up. Adventure after adventure...

The hike itself was beautiful, and unlike anything I've ever done before. We didn't really do outdoors while I was growing up, so strapping on hiking boots and being in the woods was a fairly new experience. It was somewhat exhausting and my legs are still sore and stiff, but man was it cool. Our first real day of hiking was pretty much 5 miles straight uphill. It was really cloudy and foggy, so we couldn't see much of the view around us. Near the top it started getting really foggy and we only had about 300 feet of visibility with which to see the view of the rocky slope six inches from our toes. It was intense [and uber cool]. We set up camp at about 8,000 feet, got to know each other better, and layered up to stay warm. Bear bags were hung (that inspires confidence right before you climb into a tent made of one-centimeter-thick fabric), and water was filtered so as to avoid giardia, which is always important.

Our first night of camping we were all fairly warm. When we were up higher, though, I was cold all night. I found it to be such a crazy phenomenon - it got so warm as I hiked that I would have been comfortable in a t-shirt, but if we stopped walking and stood still I got cold fast. It was cool to feel so hot but pull out your water and have it be ice cold. We woke up in the morning to completely clear skies and got to see the breathtaking surroundings we had no idea we were in.

At the end, I was tired, ready to be home and filthy. I didn't actually get back to my house until 11:30pm or so, but I was determined to shower right then and get clean. I don't know where exactly the smell was coming from, but my clothes, my skin, my hair...all of it needed washing. My hair...my hair got all sweaty and then got cold, which left it with this weird coated feeling. My nails had lines of dirt underneath them, so I cut them (at midnight). Oh, it was lovely to be clean and get into clean sheets.

It was such a new experience, getting dunked into a totally new community where I didn't know anyone and didn't even have the common bond of the Lord with. I found out what it's like to truly be different -- to be the only one who cared about whether or not I slept in the same tent as a boy, to never have seen Harry Potter, to never have heard the music they were singing or tried the drugs they talked about. Talk about learning! I loved having the chance to connect with God up there...there were moments literally where I would pray and everything felt easier -- emotionally, physically...Jesus met me, and Holy Spirit walked with me.

The three days went great, and I loved getting to know people -- I could tell it made a difference when I got back and walked on campus; I feel like I have a community of my own now at the school, and I am stoked about building these friendships. Yay!

*************

I registered for classes today! I spent time looking over the classes the school offers and writing down the ones I thought sounded interesting, only to realize that I was forgetting to check whether or not they were freshman classes or upper level. When I went to meet with my advisors, we got it straightened out and after hearing my major interests, they suggested working toward International Political Economy as a major, and it sounds fascinating, so I'm taking the intro class, as well as Statistics (which will fulfill my math requirement AND perhaps come into play later for this major). My English class (which the college assigned me, after I listed it as 2nd or so on my preference list for a special required seminar) is called Sub/Urban America, and I'm not totally sure what it's about; the professor promised that people find it more interesting than they think it will, so hopefully it will turn out alright. I just hope we don't watch Edward Scissorhands (which I was forced to watch a clip of on a college visit in a class looking at suburban America...it was icky).

I have to say I'm most excited about French! Something in me is so happy every time I hear my sister speak any French, and after I found out that she learned everything she knows in college (with no classes before), I knew I wanted to take it. Can I just say, though, that the French textbook costs a whopping $168? How crazy is that?! It comes with an online learning deal, I believe, though, which helps explain it but still...craziness. My books:

Lastly, I'm taking private piano lessons! I don't know how they will compare to this one, but the teacher was overflowingly nice and made me feel like she was excited to know me and teach me and hear me play -- I am SO EXCITED! And choir...I signed up for the general university choir. You see, these two things make my heart smile, and getting back into them will be so fun {i hope}.

I'm starting to be able to walk around campus without a map, which is good. I ate at the cafeteria for the first time today, and in true Freshman 15 (I break that, I break that! ;) style, I had a grilled cheese sandwich on white bread and french fries. Don't look at me like that, I wanted to celebrate.

Let's be honest, getting food or ordering a drink at the coffee shop and just handing over a little swipe card with a magnetic strip filled with magical points gives you a nice feeling of power. It's as if you finally can feed yourself...that or the government is shelling out money so you can eat and sit in classrooms for four years. Either way, the grilled cheese was yummy.

Welcome to the Northwest

2009-08-28T23:25:00.003-05:00

Tonight, as we finished off a night of grilled steak and veggies at some friends' house, it began to rain.

On the way home my hosts made a comment about it looking like winter.

"Oh, is this what it's like in the winter?" says me.

"Annie, this is what it's like for the next seven months."

Oh, right. Hand me an umbrella.

I think I became a college student today

2009-08-22T02:33:00.002-05:00

I walked onto campus for the first time (and stylin' no less -- hiking boots and massive backpacking gear!), passed my fellow students for the first time, and actually shook hands with other Loggers. I sat there wondering: "So, am I a Logger? Will I ever actually be a Logger? Do I have to get excited about football to be a Logger?" These are the deep questions of college existence.

I may have walked in feeling like a draft horse with blinders on -- "Uhhh...I'm just going to walk on, because I have no idea how to initiate with you", but I left with a huge smile on my face. Let me tell you...I left remembering that there is something different about me. I can think and strategize to the enth degree about the best way to get the Gospel on this campus, but tonight I was reminded that -- wait a minute! -- the Holy Spirit is in me! I don't have plan encouraging statement (Mr. Collins, anyone?) or glue my smile open as far as it can go. When I talk to people, there is something different about me that they don't encounter in the next person, and His name is Holy Spirit.

I am thankful to be here, and I am thankful that I get to be out on an adventure, I have a mission, I have a purpose, and I know why I'm here. It's not about studying 3rd century Rome or re-learning Chemistry and Spanish. Nope, my whisper to the Lord this morning as I sat before the Psalms and cried (for the only time today -- victory, eh Christina?) because I just wanted to be home with my sisters and in familiar Kansas City was "Oh Jesus, this is all for You." That puts it in perspective. He will sustain me; He's already doing it.

"The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me..."

Partying It Up

2009-08-21T13:27:00.003-05:00

Apparently I always arrive in Tacoma during wedding season. The last time I came, I got picked up by OJ, brought to the house, changed, and got dropped off at a wedding. I walked in not having seen anyone in a year and began seeing everyone I loved! The most hilarious memory of that day is that Suz and OJ couldn't come to the ceremony, so I was there without a ride to the reception. I ended up riding in Moberg's big truck, aka the Present-Mobile. Classic.

Tomorrow is my dear, dear, dear friend Callie's wedding! She is marrying one of OJ's best friends, so OJ is in town (glory hallelujah!) to stand as best man. He stopped by my house this morning with my two bags that came with him, and I nearly cried at the sight of him. I successfully choked it back, gave him a hug, and was so thankful that a piece of home is here, even just for a few days.

In other news, I still haven't walked through my campus; I might attempt that this morning. There is a Convocation Ceremony at 4 - I have no idea what that is, but hopefully there'll be cake. (Probably not).

Stay tuned for more updates from the Annie-Goes-to-College Saga.

A nice, happy, light-hearted update

2009-08-20T21:07:00.003-05:00

To update you all (and to make up for yesterday's tear-jerker), here I am blogging. Ta-da.

I think the most poignant indicator I've seen in myself so far that says "Annie is definitely in college" would be my menu today. I got to about 4pm and realized that all I had eaten so far was a few handfuls of goldfish (I have a bag with some left in it that I brought from Kansas City) and about eight Sour Patch kids.

After I ate my leftovers from dinner last night, Jena said to me: "How are you doing? You look a lot better!" The simplest answer was "Well, I ate dinner..."

And now here I sit, yet again offending every eating ethic (oh Tim, where are you and your nutrition tips now?!) in the book, munching on a cookies & cream chocolate bar that Amy bought me for my trip and downing a Gatorade. Let's hope this isn't a sign of the things to come.

---------------------

Did you know that putting two spaces after the ending punctuation of sentences when typing is no longer deemed necessary? Apparently, it was a trend that began back when computers were Bohemoths, and now that more people have computers than have dogs, you only need one space. Want to know more cool facts? Read the IHOP typeset and form manual.

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Tonight I walked into my room and thought exactly that: "Here's my room. There's my bed." I think that's a step in the right direction. I'm still living out of a suitcase (help! dresser needed!), but there's a candle on the sidetable, and that makes all the difference. I've begun doing normal things like laundry and dishes and that helps too. On the plane I was asking the Lord about this transition, and He told me to just take it one day at a time. Okay, I can do that. Whew.

-------------------

Yesterday I opened my suitcase to find that my entire bottle of Heat Tamer spray poured out and was soaked up by my belongings. I just sighed about it and moved on, until today I realized that my fancy dresses were in that bag. Sure enough, I pull them out of their garment bag, and they are soaked. The white one with big blue and green flowers I was planning on wearing this Saturday to a friend's wedding had a huge spot on it. One of the amazing ladies here in Tacoma drove me around today to drop it off at the cleaners, only to discover that they can't have it done until Tuesday. That's a bummer, except I didn't really have shoes to match it anyways. My other dress will have to work. I know, this is a thrilling story for you to read. Just wait until the dust bunnies jump out and the purple dinosaur chomps them and then everyone flies away.

{{{{who's still reading??}}}}

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Today one of the wives who was in Kansas City a few weeks ago picked me up to help me figure out all the stuff I need for my hiking trip. There were just so many layers of fleece and wool and long underwear and bandanas that I just didn't have. She took me to her house and handed over all her hiking gear, and I just stood there while she found the bug spray and got out the rain gear and loved me so well. Thank you Jesus for Paulette.

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Lastly, I haven't cried in two and a half hours. Sweet victory.

I moved.

2009-08-19T23:19:00.002-05:00

I'm here. I'm alive. And I've been crying.

Honestly, the crying caught me off guard. I have been over the moon the last few days, just blown away by how much joy the Lord had given me...When I knew I could be all weepy over leaving Kansas City and every friend that means I don't see daily, etc., I had joy! I've been excited about moving to Tacoma, and excited about what the Lord's going to do. Even through the flights today, I was smiling, and just opened the Bible and went for it. I can't tell you how many phrases I underlined, my heart totally came alive just studying.

I got picked up from the airport and somewhere on that drive it hit me: I'm here, 2,000 miles away from all those people I love. The tears started coming, and they were still hard to hold back when I got to my new, beautiful home, and I keep having these feelings of needing to prove to everyone that I really am so happy to be here, but I'm sorry, for some reason at this second I can't stop crying because, well, you don't understand, Christina is just so wonderful, and I miss the prayer room, and I want to sit in that familiar briefing room and go make copies, and I miss those little kids, and me being gone is making Katrina cry... Thankfully, all these wonderful people I adore here keep smiling and saying: "Really, it's okay...it's hard! It's a big transition, and it will just take some time."

Jesus knew exactly what I needed. A couple teams from Tacoma spent the last few weeks in Kansas City, so when I saw them here, it was like I was seeing the really familiar people. Brian was here still, and we all went out to dinner, and it was the perfect welcome-back-to-Tacoma night for me.

So I am going to take their advice (and the Lord's -- He totally spoke to this before I came, of not giving in to a pressure to be strong), and give myself a few days.

In other news, would you like to hear the funny parts of my trip here? Yes? OKAY!

So, I carried my guitar around with me and got what seemed to me an odd number of comments. None of them were mean, but I guess people just aren't used to the idea of taking instruments on planes. One guy in the Starbucks line said to me: "So, you carry that on? Where do you put it?" The security guy said to me as I walked through the medical detector: "Either a folk singer or a rocker..." as if he was trying to peg me as one or the other. Ummm, neither, I thought.

Really the only other funny story I can remember is that once I picked up my bags, I wasn't sure how to move them all. Two huge bags, plus a guitar, plus a heavy backpack on my back, and I needed to get myself and all of it out to the sidewalk. For a while I just did a relay system. Move one bag and the guitar a few feet, then go back and get the other one. Finally I figured out I could carry the guitar sideways, on top of one of the suitcases.

Goodnight, people, I'm tired. Please come visit me in Tacoma. Thanks.

True Religion

2009-08-13T23:10:00.002-05:00

Tonight, in reading through some blogs, I found myself once again directed to the Loux's blog and have to share it. Reading the post that updates about the progress of their boys since they arrived from Ukraine five months ago made me smile and tear up. What a wonderful, wonderful thing God is doing.

I love watching it, this adoption movement beginning. I know God loves adoption, because He did it first. James 1:27: "Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world." The Zoe Foundation, the Bohlenders, the other Louxes...the Meiers are adopting from Ethiopia, and the Dinsmores from New York. The children just keep coming, from every corner of the world, and it couldn't be more wonderful.

Magnificent

2009-08-05T12:57:00.002-05:00

I would like to say first that there is a burrito in the microwave with my name on it. I ordered it at Cheesecake Factory on Monday, ate some for dinner then, had it for lunch yesterday, and I'm having it for lunch again today. Now THAT is bang for your buck.

More importantly, I would like to say that Jesus is kind. Yesterday, I ducked into the prayer room to pray through a couple things the Lord had just shown that were stealing my joy and peace. The Tuesday noon set is my team's, but I can't do it because I work. I always try to visit, though, during my lunch hour, and I would say that a majority of the time, I end up crying over something or other. Yesterday was no exception, as Tim began to sing "I am Your Father, I will take care of you. I am your Maker, I will sustain you." 1) I was praying through stuff having to do with the move and come on, if anything applies to this huge change, it's the promise that the Lord will take care of me. 2) Tim has been encouraging me that the Lord will sustain me when I go, so when he started singing it, it hit straight home.

Over and over and over and over again, God has done kind things for me in Kansas City, and today yet another thing became the cherry on top. I just love it when Jesus makes me smile. I love the way He loves me; I still find myself surprised when He is kind to me. You'd think I'd have gotten the message by now, but the truth is I'm still learning...but learning is really fun!

"You owe me nothing, I deserve hell. You owe me nothing, yet You've given me mercy..." Friends, He is lavishing His love on you right now, and if you are having trouble seeing it, ask Him to show you. God is close: talk to Him, then listen for a response.

He is Faithful to His Word

2009-08-03T11:58:00.003-05:00

There is a track on a recent Limited Edition cd out of the prayer room where the main line is: "He is faithful to His Word" and singers keep adding into it: "He's not a man, that He should lie" and "He doesn't give a word, that we might hope in vain." Oh, I love that last one. He doesn't give a word that we might hope in vain. We do not hope in vain.

Today is a day of dreams come true. Literally. Like, prayers answered, desires of the heart met... My pastor from Tacoma is here in Kansas City, beginning a Freedom Class in an FSM classroom right this moment.

I remember, probably four or five years ago, walking around Suzanna and OJ's house just thinking "Tacoma! and Kansas City! they need to meet." There is a fire that God has just dumped on each one of them, and the idea of the two together seemed like it could only produce FIRE that would revive the nations. My next thought after "they need to connect" was "And I'm gonna be a part of it."

And here I stand. I'm part of it. I could cry with delight.

I'm not the only one who longed for this. My sisters, they saw it coming. I love it that I can look back and see that the Lord gave a little pointer to this happening. It wasn't just me that wanted these two power-houses that I've seen affect MY life affect hundreds of others. HE wanted it. He wanted it, and then He whispered it to my heart, and Amy's heart, and Suzanna's heart. And then we hoped, and we prayed, and today it's happening.

And then I'm reminded that moving home to Tacoma is a desire of my heart. It's been forgotten under months of dryness at school in Chicago and piled under stacks of papers from TheCall, but it's there. I know why it's there.

It's there because God put it there. Those times when my heart broke in two at the end of the summer when I had to leave and go back to Chicago? That wasn't just silly girlish longings that just got excited about new friends. God touched me in massive ways while I lived under the shadow of Mt. Rainier, and the longing to be there is something HE put in my heart.

He put it there, and now He's fulfilling it. He's fulfilling that and hundreds of other little plans and desires and needs... Wow. He is good, and He is faithful.

"The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me..." -Psalm 138

Jesus is a Friend of Mine

2009-07-23T13:55:00.002-05:00

Nope, no video of singing 70's people, although that's still kind of hilarious.

Today I am thankful for the friendship of Jesus. "There is a friend who is closer than a brother..." I've come to one of those moments where you can tangibly feel the way the Lord is your Rock. I am thankful that I know that I know that I know that when I get off the plane in Tacoma, Jesus will be walking off with me. I'm thankful that there is no question about whether or not I'll be alone when I leave this familiar place; He promised to never leave me. I'm thankful that in the weeks where I'm adjusting to life in a whole new place, this one thing will be the same.

Jesus will still be Jesus. The Helper will hold me up, and He will walk beside me. Down the once-familiar streets, up the Olympic mountains, into the classrooms. Good things are coming. I'm going to put my fears to rest in His security, strap on my battle gear, and march forward, because is Jesus is with me; it doesn't get any better.

"The Lord your God is in your midst; a mighty one, who will save..." ~Zephaniah 3

Where We End Up

2009-07-22T20:22:00.005-05:00

There are those people you remember forever because you loved them to pieces... My second grade teacher was the sweetest one ever. Like, no seriously, she was sweeter than your second grade teacher. Now she is raising children to love Jesus and posturing her heart to take in those who otherwise wouldn't have a home...and I still love her.

There are those people you remember forever because something about them etched itself on your memory... where in the world is that high school girl who tickle attacked me non-stop, when I was in elementary school and what in the world was her name?

There are the people you just plain forget...

I laid in bed last night, thinking about how this all pans out. Take a look:

Two or three years ago, when Constant first came out, I called #6 "The Harmony Song" and would play it over and over again, singing that harmony line. I had no idea that a few months later I would be sitting at the Cone's dining room table being introduced to almond butter by the guy who's now one of my now closest friends in KC. I've long ago confessed to him that I don't actually know how to sing his song, only the harmony. :)

The first time I went to a Call staff meeting, I knew one person and felt like a fish two-thousand miles out of water. I remember Katrina walked in wearing one of those grey onething shirts with the blue diamonds up the side. She sat on the wall to my right, with her legs crossed Indian-style under her, massive computer on her lap. I remember thinking "who is that girl and what is that personality that's pouring out of her?" Now we've been down, up, and all around the country together, shared ROARING laughter and deep emotions, and I know why she bought a laptop with such a big screen.

Randy, Kelsey, and family were a picture on a refrigerator to me when I got off the plane in Kansas City. Liz had kept their invitation to their adoption banquet for Zoe's adoption on her fridge, and I had viewed an infant Zoe in Kelsey's arms on a previous trip. I knew they had three sons and I knew Randy was bald. One facebook message and an impromptu meeting in Lou Engle's empty office later and I was on Randy's team. How could I begin to describe how dear these people are to me now? I've traveled with them, watched them add three more precious girls to their ranks, and absolutely fallen head over heels for this family. I will never be able to think about how my heart has been moved toward adoption without thinking about these people. I hope someday there will be little ones in my family who became a glimmer in my eye after the Lord planted me to run with the Bohlenders.

For some strange reason, I felt like I knew Truman before I actually did. My sister Elizabeth is an exquisite scrapbooker, and that plus her life of world travels leaves you happy as a clam if you get an hour in her house to just sit down and look through all her pictures. Years before I moved to Kansas City, I had seen pictures of young Truman's then-toothy grin plastered on his face that was topped with an off-center yamaka, getting dedicated in Jerusalem on a trip to Israel that my sister was on. Thanks, Liz's scrapbook, for introducing me to one of the world's greatest pun-ners.

It's interesting how relationships come, and it's interesting how they go too. When I was starting kindergarten with Genesis, we were way more concerned with what color we would make the triangle than the fact that we would go through all of school together. Then there are people I totally don't remember, like, uh...those ones I don't remember.

I could go on and on. About the first time I made Christina laugh (at our hotel in DC), or how Tim played at my sister's wedding and now I'm on his worship team (and he tries to get sneaky deals out of me playing Settlers)... The stories are all just so fascinating! I love what the Lord has woven even in my own life.

On a closing note, I would like to highlight one particular part of relationships ending that I am very thankful for. Thank the good Lord I will not be marrying any of those boys my over-excited 8th grade emotions thought I might. Amen. Let's stand.

Running to Win the Prize

2009-07-20T11:33:00.005-05:00

Glorie and I are sitting on the big leather couch together. I'm blogging and she's watching King George and the Ducky. The house smells like the banana bread we just made. While we thought Ariel and Judah would be coming over later, there are spots on Glorie's back that seem to be spreading, and since we'd rather not start a pox epidemic, it'll be Glorie and me flying solo.

On the practical front, Suz and OJ came back into town yesterday. I went four days without those kids and, boy, I missed them. I would see Samuel's little clothes and just miss his chubbiness and the cuddles I need to give him. Saturday night a few friends came over and we played a nice eventful game of Settlers. Nothing like accusations of manipulation to make you better friends.

I'm still moving, and I can't help but feel like I'm staring August 19 in the face. I hope this isn't a weird analogy, but it feels kind of like what I would guess it feels like to be pregnant. No matter what you do, the day of huge transition is coming and while you are SO excited for what it's going to bring, you can't help but remember sometimes that you're kind of also staring in the face one of the hardest, most painful things you might ever do. So maybe that's kind of a dramatic way to describe leaving Kansas City -- I know I'm going to make it, but it feels really hard at certain moments. Now the job is this: to walk forward without fear.

Suz has a song she sings with the kids before they go to sleep: "There is no fear [then they shout: "No fear! no fear!] in love..." Of course that's from the verse that says: "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear." So I want to walk without fear. I know that my God is faithful, and I know that I'm walking in obedience by moving to Tacoma, and I know that God blesses obedience. In conclusion, I think there's one big response that's justified: expectancy. Pray for me, friends, to walk in expectancy.

His Longing

2009-07-18T09:21:00.002-05:00

Yesterday was a day I had been very much looking forward to. The incredible Shelley Paulson asked if she and a few of her photography mentees, Beka Fancher, and Joanna Reyburn could use me for a photo shoot, and I was SO blessed by their asking! We had a fantastic time finding rickety parts of old buildings to shoot around and stomping through very tall grass rebuking tics, chiggers, snakes and every such thing. Here are a few of Joanna's photos.

After chomping down Five Guys and Fries (SO YUMMY) with them last night, I ended up in bed after midnight, with about four and a half hours of sleep to look forward to. This morning I realized that I probably didn't even get a whole REM cycle in, because I woke up at 2:15, thus breaking what could have been four hours into two hour chunks. I'm tired.

Before I go fall asleep for some rest before the noon set then afternoon tea with Shelley and friends, I want to write a little something.

Saturday 6ams are always exciting; yes, it's a very peculiar, original type of exciting, but exciting all the same. We're all half asleep when we sit down in the briefing room at 5:30, the base is SILENT because the NightWatch moved to the FSM building down the road for the night, and it's always time to gain a bit of expectancy and rev up of our hearts for an intercession set. Judy always has some fire to provoke us with and we end up spending the next two hours having a great time interceding and praising the Lord.

Today we sang Matt Gilman's song You Made A Way, and while I liked the chorus, of course I was itching to get to the bridge: "I am Yours, You are mine, and we'll be together forever!" I could see it just sitting there in the screens queu, waiting for me to push it. When the time came, hands across the room flew into the air -- off the book in front of them, off the guitar strings at their fingertips, off their previously gentle attempt to enter in to worship. As I sang one of my favorite lines in the whole universe to sing, I was struck by a reach back to us from the Lord. My heart felt pushed to believe that indeed, not only was I singing this to my Beloved, but He was singing it to me. We did not lay claim to Jesus, but He laid claim to us. How much more is He able to sing: "I am Yours; YOU are MINE..."

Just think about it, and it makes your heart melt. My feeble whisper of "Oh Jesus, I can't wait to see Your face" is nothing compared to the fire in His eyes and the jealousy in His heart that seals us with His love: "I can't wait for you to be with Me where I am; to be wholly and completely Mine. We will be together forever."

Follow-up

2009-07-11T20:13:00.003-05:00

Referring to my last post:

The slurpee was a fail. I know, I know -- tragic. I walked in, didn't see any signs, so to avoid embarrassment, I decided to just spend money. I filled one cup up (pina colada and coca-cola, of course), went to the cashier and made a passing comment: "so, no free slurpee?" His eyebrows raised with recognition, he reached under the counter, and pulled out the tiniest slurpee cup you have ever seen. One twitter friend told me it is a 7.11 ounce cup...whatever it was, it was too small. I bought a normal slurpee (then only drank half of it).

On the hair front, I give you exhibit A:
Exhibit B:
and exhibit C:
(exhibit C is for the purpose of inspiring you to smile so your nose scrunches). In case you didn't get this from the pictures, it's pretty much about one word: bangs. I am so excited to have something new and fun, and the [fantastic] lady taught me how to do all sorts of fun stuff! Here's hoping I stay inspired. (If you're in KC and need a haircut, please let me tell you about this lady...she really is great!)

And lastly...Jesus still enjoys you. It's true. After our Saturday afternoon set usually comes Misty's solo devotional, and she was singing about how the Lord doesn't grow bitter or close His heart to us even when we fail Him. He really is faithful, His steadfast love really does endure and reach out to You unendingly, and He delights in giving you His mercies anew every morning. When you open your eyes tomorrow, believe it, remember it -- His mercies are NEW.