suckin' the marrow

PART I of III - SAY MY NAME!

2010-11-02T21:11:00.000-07:00

For weeks now I’ve been trying to decide what to write y’all...should I tell you of my latest adventures working with mentally handicapped women? Like when I was the only thing keeping a woman from jumping onto train tracks in front of a moving train? Or should I tell you of our latest tutorial performances? Where I sang BV’s for a Muse song, dressing barefoot in all black, head banging and with disonant harmonies? Do I reminisce on all the fun people I’m meeting? I.e., Finding I know the ex-boyfriend of a random new friend who I met while I was in London several years ago? Or the afternoon I had today, in a sewing store making neon-pink bloomers for costumes for Christmas Spectacular? Or the bi-polar weather, going from spring to summer to fall to spring to ???? Or the walk from Bondi Beach to Coogee Beach, more stunning than anything I could imagine? Or getting prophesied over in class? Or the million and one amazing chapels I attend 3 times a week? Or the phenomenal worship experiences in one of the 3 choirs I’m in weekly? Or the killer class on the Holy Spirit, teaching me soo much on The One Who Speaks The Words of The Father? Hmmm...

**WARNING** This is a rather lengthy one, so grab a cuppa’ joe or skip ahead! I want to hear YOUR thoughts!

SAY MY NAME - I’M A SURVIVOR - PART I
DEEP MAGIC - PART II
INDIANA JONES? - PART III

PRAYER

SAY MY NAME
I LOVE Destiny’s Child. Wow. Confession is out there! My secret guilty pleasure is a secret no more! Whew! I have their song “Say My Name” rolling around in my head this morning. It reminds me of my name, Annetta. Ok ok. I know that sounds simple but track with me. I was praying the other day and added “favor” to the list. It’s not an abnormal prayer for me. But somehow in the praying, it made me stop. Why should I pray for favor? What makes ME so special that He’d give ME favor? I mean, if He’s giving me something doesn’t it mean someone else does NOT get it? Why me? And to be honest, there was no answer for several days. There was no Voice from Heaven saying I was the chosen one and no dove descending upon when my shoulder when I got out of my morning showers. But then on a run the other morning, it popped up again. And I started thinking, favor...hmmm..it’s REALLY just grace in disguise. Grace is undeserved favor. Grace, grace....Annetta means “full of grace.” Wow. So all this time I’m praying for favor, I’m actually FULL of undeserved favor? I mean, to be honest, everyone in Christ is full of grace, maybe I just needed a little extra reminder of what’s inside me.

Sometimes I think there is more for us than what we get in this life. Hold with me, this may take a minute of tracking...I think my sin, the mar of sin in this world and the evil one seek to keep me from what He has in store for me. I think there are so many riches untold in His storehouse for me, should I just choose to grab onto them. I think for many of us, we don’t always get all the greatness and goodness He has in store simply because we don’t FIGHT for it. We don’t fight the evil one to release the things that are ours that He has given us. All we’d have to do is CLAIM them as ours, because they’ve already been allocated to us! Christ has already given them to us, yet we allow the evil one to hold them in captivity. We allow him to lord them over us, showing us what we don’t “have” yet what our hearts want. I’m not necessarily talking about riches and honor and fame here, although I think that’s sometimes included. I’m talking about peace + a future + hope + a place + position + calling. I get it that this world is no longer the avatar-like Eden it was pre-Eve’s apple noshing. I see the pain and hurt all around. I can almost see the scar sin made as it ripped open the heart of the earth. And because of this, all the ugly hurting things in the world run rampant. But that’s where I’m putting my foot down. I’m tired of saying “it’s a fallen world” when Christ came to RESTORE that fallen world. I’m tired of saying my life is as it is when He came to make this life MORE THAN glorious. I’m tired of hardening my heart to the stories of sex + child trafficking. I’m ready to fight back. I’m fighting back. I’m fighting back for what’s MINE. I’m fighting back for what’s YOURS. No longer will I be robbed of my future or favor or position or peace or joy simply because the evil one wants to hold it out or because I am unwilling to claim it from His storehouses. I’m cleaning out my storehouse in heaven and using what I find to claim this world back. With everything that’s within me, I’m taking hold of that which was given me so that I can fight for others who can’t fight for what was given them.

Don’t hear me wrong, thinking I’m a bristley girl, fighting for my rights. I’m not the kid screaming and clutching onto things not mine, jealous of others and using them as a head up. Nope. I’m content with what He’s ordered for me. But I want ALL of what He’s ordered for me. So I’m pursuing the things of God in the heavenlies today. I’m pressing in to have all the Divinity really living and speaking in this heart. I’m in a fighting mood kids, full of undeserved favor, fighting to get every last drop of that favor while I am here. Say my name!

Spoiled Holy

2010-09-30T01:25:00.000-07:00

Here's a little message I sent out to all the "Texan In Oz" followers...enjoy!

I’m sitting in the middle of an Australian freeway, steam billowing from my car’s engine, cars honking behind me. It’s 6:30 am and rush hour traffic in Oz has already picked up with stop-n-go traffic and 2 hour commutes that should take 40 minutes. Needless to say, I’m starting to feel a little stressed.

The rest of a moment was a bit of a blur, with the car breaking down SEVERAL more times on the way to it’s current resting place. There are 3 conversations I vividly remember, one where I was asked if I was from Texas, Australia (IS there such a place?!)...a 2 word conversation with a McDonald’s attendant: Handing him 2 large bottles I said “Car.” He responded “Water” empathetically and proceeded to fill them for me...and then there were the well-intentioned city trash guys:

Garbage man Bob was a bulbous-nosed fella with a rotten tooth grin. His complexion and waistline told tales of his nightly binges at the local pub.

Bob: “What’s wrong here? You’re in the way.”
Me: “Oh no! I just bought this car and don’t even have the registration papers yet!”
Bob: (pointing to small fluid tank) “Lookee here. There’s no water in your radiator cooler. Absolutely none. It’s your engine. You’re buggered.”
Me: “Um, isn’t that the windshield wiper sign on that tank? I think the water tank is here, and I filled it earlier.”
Bob: “Harumph. Gary! Come look at this lady’s car. It’s buggered.”

Gary, fidgeted a ton, obviously a little nervous at speaking to a girl, much less one with an accent! He poked in the engine a bit and told me to "Take it 1k down the road. Tell them the trash guys sent you. They’ll take care of you.”

As it turns out the local trash men have a good rep at the petrol/mechanic station.

Other than those conversations, there was a running dialogue with God that was ever-present, “Please oh please oh please help me. My dad isn’t here...You’re my dad now. Please oh please oh please help me.”

And of course, I called my earthly daddy from my cell phone and started crying as soon as I heard his voice say, "Hey babe, what's going on?"

Now, hours later, I look back at this moment and have 2 thoughts: 1. Would I have gotten outta’ bed this morning had I known all the craziness that was about to transpire? 2. I am spoiled.

I am spoiled. No seriously. Spoiled. OK, so I don’t stomp my pretty little Dolce & Gabanna encased foot every time I pass a designer store...And I don’t demand steak or even salmon every night. But, God takes care of me in every little detail I could dream of! From a job to housing to a car to school to the intricacies of the dreams He’s laid on my heart, He is fighting on my behalf. And sometimes I can’t see Him because He is in the fields fighting for me (like the angel that had to wage war with the Prince of Persia before he got to Daniel). When I walked into chapel and worship was blaring today, I just had to worship and weep, knowing that He took upon Himself the role of my dad today. He stood and made sure every detail was taken care of for my safety and care today. He will even have the fella who sold me the car fix it...I’m believing! He is involved in the big things in my life and in the little details, like helping me remember my large water bottles so I have something with which to fill my radiator tanks!

I guess I send this email, so quickly on top of my epistle yesterday to say:

Wherever you are today. He is there.

Don’t give up. He hasn’t abandoned you. He’s just fighting your battles that you can’t see.

Love YOU!

23/52 There's No Half-Singing In The Shower, You're Either A Rock Star Or An Opera Diva

2010-06-07T11:48:00.001-07:00

23/52 There's No Half-Singing In The Shower, You're Either A Rock Star Or An Opera Diva
Originally uploaded by Ciel Photography.

Just finished recording a raw cd in the shower. Felt a little like this pic!

Birthright

2010-01-15T20:37:00.000-08:00

It's like coming to know Christ again...for the first time. Tonight I was struck with a drop of the feeling He had...the sorrow He had over sin. Yea, not even a drop of His feeling...He knew so much more agony than I'll ever begin to know. When I slightly tell a mis-truth...or spew anger in subtle ways...or whine about my lot...all rubbish next to The Glorious One. We, I, make sin out to be this big list of do's and don't's. Really, it's a life. It's a lifestyle. It's so much less about the doing, and so much more about the heart. The DOING isn't the issue. It's the heart.

I KNOW all this. I've said it a million times before. I've heard it preached a million more. Yet there are occasions when I see the veracity of it as plain as the yellow paint on the walls of my bedroom. The veil is lifted, even if for only a moment.

One of those moments was tonight. I went and saw the movie Avatar. Don't think this is a plug to go see the movie...but somehow He had my heart in just the right spot as I walked into that theater. Watchin these humans grow from the hardheaded, killing machines to green tree huggers....it was so much more. They saw that the balance of life isn't about ONE person's happiness. It isn't about one person or country's agenda. The balance of life requires us to walk in His ways. If we are believers, we are tree huggers.

I feel like I can't type this quick enough. I can't get it out quick enough...the veil is lowering.

I once read Pereleandra; I felt the same way. In Avatar, in Pereleandra, we see Eden before the fall. The rightness of it all is breathtaking, more than magnificent. The look and feel and rhythm of the world before the fall...it was God-ordered. It was a RIGHTEOUS earth. Yet just that ONE SEED of that apple...I can see it falling from Eve's fingers...hitting the ground and spreading like a stain, a wildfire across the earth, leaving us with ashes. And dead.

How does one, born to live in Eden, live in the aftermath of destruction? I suppose today we could ask our brothers and sisters in Haiti. They, more than any others on earth perhaps, know what a poignant aftermath is like. Maybe our Rwandan brothers and sisters or the Sudanese, those beautiful plum-black people, luminous-glowing-in-the-sun people, maybe they could speak of rising in the aftermath. While we are not created to dwell in such conditions, it remains our birth right to be the people of that glorious world. While trees no longer speak to each other as perhaps they once did...and the animals no longer live in harmony...we must live as if they are but asleep, to be awakened and brought to life again at His coming, where the Lion dwells with the Lamb.

So tonight, as I drove home from the theater, I wept. I wept for my dirty little, nobody sin. I wept for the sin of you. I wept for the sin of our fathers. And I wept for the sin to come. For until He comes and wipes us clean once again, that stain remains. And we must fight every day to keep it at bay, to live out of our birthright.

Maybe you could call me a crackpot. But somehow in the midst of all this, I see the light. Tonight, I am out of Plato's cave and looking at the Person next to The Fire itself. Tomorrow I might be back in the cave. But for tonight, I weep for us. And I rejoice, that all will not be forever.

Oh Glorious Father, The StoryMaker. The Beginner of Life. How Kind and Compassionate You are to have Mercy and shower Grace on such as we. Dead, living in a destructive world, You Speak The Life into us. Breathe New Life Father, as never before, Breathe Life into dead souls Father. Bring many to know You...Your Ways. Open eyes to see. Oh that the dead may become alive.

I love You as never before. With all my heart.

Emo Eating versus a Patch Adams moment

2010-01-09T22:08:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I get angry at God. Like, mean-case-of-the-reds from Breakfast at Tiffany's angry. I am frustrated with how life has turned out. Or I am angry at a relationship taking more time. Or I am angry that He doesn't seem to hear me. Most often, I am agry when I feel like He's not on my side...like I'm alone, like He's not for me.

When I'm in the throes of this mean-case-of-the-reds I have a tendency to eat. I mean, if I'm gonna feel crappy about life, I should do SOMETHING that feels good. Eating is a feel-good activity for me. Running is a feel-good activity for me too. That's a good combination. It's kept me from being 300 lbs.

No matter the weight level, emo eating is bad.

If I sit and think about it, I realize I need one of those Patch Adams moments. You know the one I'm talking about..it's one of the only 3 scenes you remember from the movie. I mean, who can forget the building size legs outside the doors at the gyno convention? And who can forget Robin Williams running around with a clown nose, making bald cancer kids laugh? And then there's that sweet moment with the butterfly on the cliff...Patch is screaming horrific threats at God.

Then a butterfly comes.

Somehow this puny little butterfly is supposed to make all that anger go away. Butterflies don't work for me. And screaming just makes me lose my voice.

But somehow that screaming and then the peace that comes with the butterfly, well, they're all part of the process. With the eternal-optimist personality that I am, the dislike of conflict, the desire to make others happy, well, I tend to live in a state of happy-go-lucky, it'll-all-work-out-in-the-end verbage. But the problem with that is, well, it doesn't always work out. In fact, it RARELY works out the way we want it to. While our direction, our story in life, requires some doing, some making-it-happen on OUR parts, well, it also requires some shifting-circumstances-to-make-it-possible on God's part. Our very breath requires He allows us to breathe. Our movement and the writing of our story in His story definitely requires movement on His part. THAT is what makes me angry...when I have a deep need for Him to come through...and then it seems He doesn't.

Even as I write all this, I think what an ungrateful wretch I am in those moments. I mean, I have a wonderful place to stay, fantastic friends, a phenomenal family, and there are even opportunities opening up in the area I feel called. BUT, the anger isn't over these things. The anger comes because opportunities to work out of my created purpose aren't actualized. They are simply possibilities without solid depth behind them. I am unsure of their outcome because He hasn't shown me anything to be sure OF. All to say...

I was angry with God tonight. Frustrated. But these feelings were quickly followed by gratefulness at the place I am now....the reminder to be present in THIS moment...to GROW where I'm planted. While I might not be able to BLOOM here as it's not permanent, I CAN grow. And as I watch Him work in this moment today, well, it's pretty cool to see how He takes His time to do things perfectly right. He doesn't waste a moment...nor does He rush. While I want it now, it's better later.

So I'm waiting. No longer angry and somehow I avoided that emo eating for 6 hours. I might go get a snack.

Christianity 101 Reincarnate: Walking His Way Revamped

2009-11-08T22:42:00.000-08:00

Lately I've been meditating and talking with the Father about how to simply BE and speak this being into existence. Sound crazy? It is a little. In this process, I've been learning a whole lotta' basic truths. I've heard these truths for a long time. But they're now being manifested in my life. It is OUT OF CONTROL AMAZING.

1ST. Have you heard that saying, "be the person you want to marry?" Recently I've started a little trial period of really, sincerely, focusing my eyes on my weaknesses. I've been asking friends where I need work, meditating a lot in the wisdom of the Proverbs, and re-accessing old relationships where I failed. Meanwhile, the distractions of current potential (and occasionally actual) relationships have taken a back seat. They've become the thing I daily place on the alter and leave with Him to take care of. In short, I find myself working on being the best me, and offering up the variable to Him.

2ND. My heart aches. A lot. Mainly for three reasons...
ONE: Life isn't perfect. I get told no a lot. A lot of dreams have crashed and burned. I ache to be WITH Him. A lot of times I just long to go HOME.
TWO AND THREE: There are two things I want to do more than anything else in life: love a man with all my heart and lead worship for His body. While I occasionally get glimpses of the man-to-come, he's just as far away as he's ever been (or at least my physical eyes see it that way). In the same vein of thought, I am blessed with countless opportunities to lead at different churches. But getting to be plugged in at one church, really building into people's lives and seeing growth in worship, well, this isn't a current reality. While there are a lotta' pots cooking in the works, well, it's not actuality. The result is, that I ache for these dreams to be manifested in the current reality. I wholeheartedly believe He is moving, putting pieces in place for a position perfect for me. With all that's within me, I believe He's leading a man to find, pursue and passionately love me. Even as these two eyeballs don't see it, my spiritual eyes are being lead by the Spirit to see and believe He is bringing them to pass.

3RD. As my heart aches, I'm learning to bring Him my pain. So often, when I feel pain, I KNOW He could do something in a split second to make that pain go away. More often than not, He leaves that pain to ache. So often I hold onto that pain, shielding it from Him. I don't want to let Him into those intimate spots that hurt. After all, He's the one that either caused it to hurt, or allows it to continue to hurt, or BOTH! So I raise one hand and voice to worship Him, He IS SO WORTHY. But then I use the other hand to shield my heart and self from His vision and embrace...as if I could hide anything from Him! I've started giving Him my pain. When I ache, I come and say, "Ok Father. You know how much I love You with all of my heart. I SO SO SO want to please You. Today my heart hurts Daddy. It hurts with the desire of the dreams I believe You've planted there. Would you take that pain today? Or just walk with me in the middle of it?" I'm learning the FELLOWSHIP of His sufferings.

4TH. I hate the cliche "bloom where you're planted," but it seems to be my banner these days. Here I am, not having accomplished many of the things I desire to accomplish, believing so many of His promises for me, leading worship and waiting tables. He's teaching me how to love waiting tables just as much as I love leading worship....er, well, He's teaching me how to have as much JOY in waiting tables as I have when I lead worship. The joy of leading worship is natural and spontaneous: I was created to lead worship. The joy of waiting tables is a choice, a practice: like Brother Lawrence, learning to practice His Presence in every moment!

5TH. I'm learning to love well. Talking with a dear friend a month ago, she mentioned that she tries to show more appreciation and respect to the people closer to her. I had a tendency to take dear friends for granted, I mean, once a friend always a friend right? Making new friends easily and travelling as much as I have lately, it seems that I was spending my time and energies fostering new friendships rather than sowing into old ones. I've started to flip-flop my approach, spending my time and energies primarily in finding ways to show love to those closest to me. It has been phenomenal to watch how so many deep relationships have blossomed again. And we've gotten closer...this is a huge joy.

SO..These are a few of the things He's so kind to teach me these days. I'm so grateful. Hope this encourages to you run the race harder...He is SO worthy...and His intimate Presence is more than I could ever desire.

Getting Left in the Grocery Stores of Life

2009-09-24T06:40:00.000-07:00

When I was uber young, I can remember going to the local grocery store, begging for just about every sugary thing on the shelves. With 4 (at the time!) of us running around, grocery trips were a little harrowing. Out numbering the 'rents, we had a tendency to wander off, geting lost in the store. I think every kid gets lost or left in a store at some point. I mean, kids are wiggly little buggers. They have a tendency to squirm and wander.

When I'd wandered off, one partiular time, I vividly remember that feeling of aloneness. I was standing next to the spaghetti noodles, tears welling up, anxiously looking for my parents. Sometimes I'd frantically rush through the grocery store looking for them. But this time, I stayed put, "in one place", as my parents had instructed me to do when I was lost. Waiting for them to come find me seemed to take years! In my early years, I'd scream bloody murder, hoping that'd alleviate my fear and draw their attention to my aisle, finding me at last! That particular time, in the spaghetti aisle, there were just tears, no screaming. I was only "lost" for a few minutes. In a little farm town, the grocery store is not that big. But in those few minutes, I felt like the world was a huge horrible place. And I thought my parents had left me, never to return. Funny how quickly I jumped to an abandonment scenario when their behavior with me would have proven anything BUT abandonment!

I thought they left me.

Recently, I thought He'd left me. Naturally, when I don't think He's working, my flesh has a tendency to manipulate and push circumstances to my liking. Sarah & Abraham did that with Hagar and Ishmael, and so the Islamic peoples were born. I can't imagine what world religion could be born out of my own manipulations...let's pray He protects me from that manipulation!!

But, guess what?? In the midst of believing He'd left me, He saved me from myself. And He didn't leave me. Even now, as no cicrcumstances have changed that would say to others that He is here, well, He's been speaking so loudly to my heart, "I DIDN'T LEAVE YOU!"

NO SIRREE!!! He DIDN'T! He's HERE!!!

I am almost beside myself with this revelation. How quickly I turned my thoughts to believing my parents had left me..how much quicker I believed He had left me in the midst of the desert.

I hear Him and I believe Him.

Life looks exactly as it did when there seemed no hope. The only difference is a revived heart. Joy has returned in the midst of the darkness...I am indeed dancing in the dark. And let me tell you, I've got "moves you've never seen!"

So I'm grateful. Renewed faith has been borne, not of my own cynical, questioning heart, but from His firm strong gaze. In the middle of a grocery store I'm reminded, He's here. He's coming for me. He hasn't left me yet.

So I'll continue to play out this holding pattern, moving as He leads, praying for open and closed doors, with my "ears to the rails", listening for His coming.

He's coming my friends!! Oh how He loves me! I glory in this highest honor today...and love Him back with all my heart.

2009-08-26T00:28:00.000-07:00

Grief only lasts so long. Then, when it has spent itself, it leaves it's host as a skeleton or as a deep well. The skeleton never returns it's victim whole. The deep well is where one learns to dance in the dark until the dawn breaks.

Dawn has broken. He is coming.

For Father's Day...Belated I Know!

2009-06-24T13:39:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, I thought my Dad was SO NOT funny. I remember the phone ringing upstairs and my Dad lunging up the stairs two at a time. A pastor in a normal, middle-class tri-level in NW Indiana, we'd hear him shout, "County Jail, Warden Speaking." And then we'd hear him murmur something...Mom and I would dash up the stairs yelling, "ROOGERR!" and "DAAD!" simultaneously. Turns out he'd say "County Jail, Warden Speakin'" in a fake southern drawl and THEN pick up the phone and whisper a hello. Mom and he always got a good giggle out of it. I would just roll my eyes and say, "grownups." His antics in answering the phone would continue pretty much my whole life, ranging from the pizza delivery company to the pest control company to the morgue. Sometimes he'd actually answer the phone with this crazy talk. The stammering on the other end was almost too much for him to handle. He'd crack a smile and quickly shift gears for the unsuspecting victim on the other end of the phone line. Whenever he was paying a bill over the phone, he'd spell out his first name and then say, "Box. Like cardboard." He always got a laugh for that one. My older sister Corrie says it to this day. I wonder what she'll say when she gets married.

Honestly with his profession and personality, you'd never suspect my Dad has as keen a sense of humor as he does. If something is the most amazing thing to ever transpire on the face of this planet, he'll say in monotonous syllables, "That's great babe." I used to think this was totally rude. Now I know he's a little tongue-in-cheek mixed with ultra-laid back.

From ages four until I turned twelve, we'd sing at the local nursing home ever Friday. There were three girls in my family old enough to sing. That's really where I learned to sing harmony. I remember my sister telling me to just "hear" it. And "hear" it we did, to songs like "In the Garden" and "Tis' So Sweet to Trust in Jesus." If we didn't sing loud enough, we got a spanking. "But if you sing loud enough," Dad would smile, "you get a Coke!" Mmmm...I remember those cold coke cans. I'd struggle to pop open the metal ring, but the cool fizz that came was worth the bruised little fingers. I'd try to chug it, like my dad's friend Chuck after one of their softball games, but I could only get a couple of gulps down before my stomache started to ache. I never got a spanking for singing too soft at the nursing home. I was the "loud one" and it was easy to avoid punishment on that end. Now Corrie, she had a small frame and an even smaller voice. To get her to sing above a whisper was like pulling teeth. Dad would cajole and prod and push and finally resort to spanking every week. But after four emotional weeks like this, well, all her kicking-n-screamin must've helped her lungs to just sprout out real huge, cuz' after that, well, she never did have a problem singing loudly again.

The only thing I didn't like about the nursing home was the smell and the required hugs. I went through a "Don't TOUCH me!" stage for about four years when I was younger. I still don't know what caused it. Along with singing loud enough, we were required to hug every neck in the room at this nursing home. It wouldn't have been so bad except there were some people so drugged up that hugging them was like hugging a drooling corpse. Or worse, some of them would just hang on for dear life not wanting to let you go! If that particular long-hugger was a stout woman, well, you got a nose-full of bossom for an indefineable amount of time that seemed like eternity. Gross.

What I loved about the nursing home was the candy and the motions. Two of the little ladies were well into their hunderedth year. They'd keep little plastic baggies of mints and butterscotch with them to give to us every week. I loved the butterscotch. We got to do motions with several of the songs we sang. We'd sing "He's a Peach of a Savior," to the tune of "The Lord's Army." Each time we sang it three times. We'd sing it once at a normal pace, once in slow motion and once at super sonic speed. We also loved singing Father Abraham so fast that when we spun around we'd lose our balance and end up falling on the floor. Dad would allow a little bit of foolishness, but we knew we only had about 30 seconds of it before we got the slight eye squint, which meant our precious Coke reward was on the line. I always thought his slight squint was really him imagining the size of the spanking stick he'd use on us. When I was eight we went to one of those pioneer exhibitions. It was one of those things where they had rows of tents with different exhibits showing you how the pioneers lived. They had corn being ground for meal, clothes being washed on a board and hot wax being stirred for homemade candles. There was also a tent where they burned words and designs onto wood. This was my favorite tent. I loved the smell of burning wood and thought the swirl of roses on a chair was so pretty. I would sit and trace the swirls with my finger while munching an ear of rosted corn. I really wanted one of the little rocking chairs they made. Dad and I stood there about 15 minutes while he had something made. I don't know why I didn't ask what he was doing. It wasn't til we got back to the car that he showed my mom what he had bought: a large wooden spanking paddle with all of us kids names engraved on it. I knew I hated that stupid tent. It served my dad right when he broke that stupid paddle on my heinie about six months later. Pioneers must not have had kids as obstinate as me.

I remember getting a spanking every day one summer. We got spankings for three things: Disrespect, disobediance and lying. If you think about it, any adolescant misdemeanor can be categorized as one of these three. I think I was most often spanked for disrespect. Well, disrespect and delayed obediance. According to Dad, "Delayed obediance is disobediance." So really it was my mouth and attitude that got me into trouble. I loved to answer my parents serious queries with a lotta' sass. They thought they were so smart. And that whole "delayed obediance" thing was primarily due to draggin my feet...part of my quiet rebellion to do whatever they were asking me to do.

I can't find the exact quote, but somewhere in my youth I remember someone telling me, "It's funny how much your parents will learn from the time you turn 16 until the time you turn 21." I've thought about that so many times since hitting my 20s. I remember thinking I knew so much more than my fuddy-duddy parents. Typical teenager. And then when I turned 21, almost to the day, I'd start to call Dad and ask for advice. We'd even talk about boy stuff. It was always humorous. He'd always ask if the boy knew the Lord. And then he'd just listen. I'd spout off about a particular encounter and he'd just listen. I think he considered this long-suffering on his part. I honestly think he could've done without every detail, but I was bound and determined to make sure he knew what was said to me and how and from whom. At the end of the conversation he'd offer me a verse of Scripture or a little thought. If the verse or thought cut a little too close to home, well, I'd think he was being a little pushy or too churchy. But I'd think on what he said for a few days and invariably call a few days later to apologize for a poor attitude. Mom on the other hand, well, she'd spout off for hours on what I needed to do to chase a boy away or attract him near.

Growing up with four sisters, going to the grocery store with the family was always an interesting ordeal. If Dad took you, you always knew you were getting Hershey's Almond Chocolate bars from the checkout counter because those were his favorite. He'd walk in with the youngest in the grocery cart and the rest of us would roam about, looking for things that we couldn't live without, e.g., sugary cereal, marshmallow creme and frozen pizza. We knew if we begged just right, we'd have a chance of at least getting one item we wanted. When he had finished getting the items on Mom's list, he'd give one sharp, quick whistle. He could have whispered it, and I don't know why, but we'd always hear that whistle and come running. I don't know if any of us ever got a spanking for not responding to the whistle, but if any of us did, I'm sure it was me.

They say that our view of God is largely based on our view of our earthly Father. Honestly, I can't imagine what people do who don't have a good earthly Father. It really makes me sad. I don't think I'm feeling sorry for them. Rather, I just get sad because it was so easy for me to see the Father as good and loving even when punishing. Every time my Dad spanked me he'd say he loved me and hug me afterwards. And amidst the snotty sniffles I'd hug him back. There was one season where I was going through a particularly rebellious stage. Every time Mom or Dad said something, I'd shoot something dicey right back to them. There was all sorts of screaming and door slamming on my part...and furrowed brows and occasionally screaming right back on their part. One day, after a particularly punchy shouting match, i was cooling off by shooting baskets in the driveway. Dad came outside and silently shot baskets next to me. After he'd made one particularly stellar three pointer, I tossed him back his "change." He held the ball in both hands, slowly shifting it around. I could see the wheels spinning in his brain, but there was nothing in this world that would have prepared me for what came next. "Annetta. I love you. You are my responsibility and the Lord has asked me to make my family my priority. If it takes me leaving this church and going somewhere else to make you know Him, I'll do it." And with that, he set the ball down and I lept into his arms for a huge hug while sniveling, "I'm sorry Dad, I won't do it again!" For a moment I had thought lightening was about to strike me. I mean, my Dad giving up his church position because of my poor attitude and razor tongue? Surely leaving the pastorate would have to have more severe repercussions than leaving any other profession?!? But my Dad never had to make good on his promise. After that generous, but scary, offer, I straightened up a little. Our home went from the battlegrounds of World War 111 to intermittent arguments over stupid stuff. It was that conversation with my Dad, more than any other moment in my life, that showed me how much my heavenly Father cares about me. My Dad here was willing to put aside things that were extremely important to him. My heavenly Father offered me His Son.

Maybe it's my Dad's example of who God is that has gifted me with a greater understanding of faith. I mean, it's not hard to imagine God's gonna' catch you if you leap if you have a Dad like mine. I've worked with some pretty phenomenal Christian leaders, a couple of them are the leaders of our century. My Dad is the godliest man I've ever known. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's defnitely gone through he's more infuriating stages. There was that time when I was ten that he was going through a stage where any type of rock beat was from the devil. We had to throw out our Amy Grant cassette tape and records. There was also the no-dating-til-you-are-16 stage. Well, maybe that was smart as they had me for a daughter! There are many moments when he drives me crazy. But there are far more when I am so thankful that he was the one that God placed in my life. When my engagement was called off, Dad and I would sit and talk for hours. Rather, I would talk for hours and he would listen.

It's funny. The older I've gotten, the more I can hear my Dad's voice in the day-to-day. Sometimes I'll be working on something and I'll hear how he would react to it and I'll laugh. The other day I went into a store with exorbant prices for their product. I had to chuckle as I could hear my Dad say, "They sure are proud of their merchandise aren't they?" What's really funny is that I'm writing all this while my Dad is still very much alive. He's still chugging away, loving my Mom, growing in the Lord, emailing a daily Bible Study he writes to a couple hundred people, pastoring a church and really into nutrition. Anytime I want, I can call him and unless he's preaching I know I'll get a listening ear. But more than me telling him, I've come to rely on his telling me. After watching the way he's lived, I've found that I need to hear him more than I need to tell him. The same is true for me and God. I've started to listen a little bit better. I'm trying to quit coming to His Word with a laundry list. Rather, I've found if I look for His character in those pages, well, I'll hear them in the every day in much the same way as I hear my Dads voice. I see things as humorous sometimes now, in the way He would. I love the way He's put together certain people who should have never "worked" but in His divine wisdom, they are a perfect fit. Or the way He continuously gives me a girly-girl for a close friend...such an odd fit for the tom-boy that I am.

I think it's when I DON'T listen for that Voice, when I'm not in a place where I can hear it, that I have issues. I think trying to hear God's Voice with sin in your life is like trying to hear someone talk to you while you've got your hands clamped down securely over your ears. His Voice comes out muffled. Sometimes it ends up as a garbled command, like you'd played a horrible round of Chinese telephone. I've done things in His Name that He didn't want me to do. I did them, in a state of sin, not really listening or walking right with Him. He ended up throwing a few punishments for me in the end.

When I'm trying to hear His Voice, I tend to do what Tony Evans does to prep for a sermon: I read myself full (of Scripture). Pray myself hot. And walk myself empty (mulling over what He is saying). This little routine has a tendency to re-boot my system. At the end, after much confession and listening, well, I can hear that Voice again.

After seminary I was on a church staff in Houston for a couple of years. I loved that church. But towards the end of that time, I started to really fell like God wanted me to step out in faith..that He had more for me. I didn't know what that "more" was, but I knew staying in my comfort zone was not it. I put off leaving the church for about six months. Finally, I told the pastor that I was leaving in eight weeks. I packed my things and left...only to have the Lord open up a cabin for me to stay in Estes Park, Colorado (thank you L&KC!). While there, my routine: Wake and read Scripture for 4-6 hours. Write music for a couple hours in between. Hike to town and around and back, sprinting some for acclimization. Get home in time to grill some of the frozen elk Larry hada left for me in the freezer and prepare dinner of some sorts. Read and write for a couple more hours. Go to bed. Somewhere in the middle of the reading and listening and hiking and writing, well, I learned all sorts of things. He cleared my life of all sorts of dead things in this time. But more than anything, well, I learned what His Voice sounds like. I learned how to recognize it amidst the hustle and the bustle we call life. When I came off of that mountain, roughly 40 days later, I was a different girl. Alone with Him, He had hewn some serious ears into my soul. I think this season was one of the ost fruitful of my life. Since that time, I've pretty much been in the desert. But it was this "Learning to Listen 101" crash course that has kept me on course in the midst of a few years of hell. And it's knowing His character is good, just like I know my Dad's is good, that keeps me beleiving this pain will end one day. My Dad would want the pain to end, after it's done what it's designed to do. God will make this pain end after it's done what it's designed to do, mold my character. Am I sick of this season? OOoh you better betcha. But I also believe with all my heart that it's not forever. I keep telling people He's coming for me and that it'll end. I want to be Prince Caspian's Lucy who doesn't give up on God's promises even when everyone else does. I want to believe no matter what I see with my eyes.

So. As in the words of Joshua, I choose today to continue to press on towards the prize of knowing HIm. I believe. I'm working on hearing. And in the midst of this hearing and believing, I find myself fully alive.

I Heart Running

2009-06-23T09:48:00.000-07:00

Went on a kick back run today. The kind where you don't even have to be listening to music...you have your own personal soundtrack playing in your head. I love those runs. I just watch the miles go by in a blur while this cranium thinks it's fixing the problems of the world. I can do in upwards of 18 miles like this if I get in just the right frame of mind. But my favorite runs like this are not the runs with long distance but the runs with fast speed AND long distance. My legs are pumping, lungs are pumping and breathing is all about the rhythm. I love rhythm. I sometimes think I've a little African American under this pale-freckled skin. Put on a little R & B/hip-hop and I start a bopping.

Chapter 5: Onions, Singin' Screamin and Cabbage Patch kids

2009-06-21T08:33:00.000-07:00

It's funny to see what makes people tick. My sister Corrie? She's definitely a gloriously whimsical individual. She thrives off of anything musical. Well, really my whole family is that way. I'm not sure what makes us so obssessive about it. But Corrie now, she's the one that might have a cardiac arrest if there isn't music in her head. We drove together a lot last week when she was visiting Dallas. She's notoriously a spacy driver, tending to cut people off unintentionally and then wave real friendly-like. She knows they're probably muttering cusswords under their breath, but she has so many other ideas and inventions rattling in her brain that she doesn't pay attention to a random driver. Meanwhile, I'm sinking as low as possible in my seat, hoping no one recognizes me. Put her in a city where she has no idea where she's going, and add me, the sister who gives worse directions, and you have a little bit of Disney's "Herbie" on wheels. I'd never noticed before this last visit, but when she makes a particularly harrowing turn, she tends to SING her "Ahhh!" The first time I heard it, I couldn't believe it.

"You just sang."
"What?"
"You just sang your scream."
"Oh that. I always do that. It's just IN me."
"No, but Corrie, you SANG. No one sings when they're yelping in surprise."
"What can I say, I'm a musician."

So she said... as if this explains everything. She is probably the one person in the world who doesn't get embarassed when you tell her she has food in her teeth. She gets mad. It's as if you hit a switch that turns her from a "whatever goes" mentality to "YOU'RE CENSORING ME!" mentality. Her reaction is volatile at best and nuclear towards the bad end of things. Let's just say I take a whole lotta blame that is only half my due.

For Corrie, there's nothin worse than censoring. She'd rather be poor in a dirt hut with haggis for every meal than be censored. Corrie's the sister who lived in Russia. I used to say Russia gave her the beatnik qualities that make her Corrie. But now I know these colorful patches of her identity were all just a little dormant...Russia just bombed her deep waters and they all came to the surface. It was pretty crazy to watch. She went to Russia as a little classical music lover, full of depth and quirkiness but firmly ensconced in propriety. She came back like a hippy Medusa, ready to embalm you in death-beckoning insults if you were to question some of her more odd qualities.

Now put her in a kayak with nature or on a sweaty, blisteringly heated hike, and well, she starts vomiting pithy bits of wicked-awesome wisdom like they are simply fruit loops she had for breakfast. Or put her in an art museum or some place that has contact with any kind of art form, and she flows with that happy energy that comes from being in love. The switch is kinda' ridiculous: From singin' screamin' to trigger-happy sensor-hating to intoxicating-yoda embodiment of all that is good and pure and holy. I sometimes get whiplash. At one moment she's my trigger-happy, bossy older sister and the next she's my good-vibes flowing favorite person in the world. I don't think she's like that with other people. Just her younger, push-her-buttons sister.

I once dated a fella with trigger points just as severe.

I would say, "I'm thinking kids in a coupla' years AFTER I get married. I want to smell like my favorite perfume during our first coupla' years of honeymoon, not my spawn's vomit. Plus, there's really a whole lotta' stress that comes from having a little human as your responsibility."

Josh would say, "I think Scripture is clear that we are supposed to
bear fruit and multiply. Multiply. Part of being married is having kids."

"That doesn't necessarily we have to multiply NOW. Couldn't we wait
for a coupla' years? Get our feet underneath us, a rhythm to our
marriage? I mean, just two years ago I was saying I hated kids...I
can't imagine birthing one quite so soon."

"I'm just saying, when I marry, Lord willing we're going to have kids right away. It's Scriptural."

And so the conversation always ended. There's no arguing with people who won't budge. And whenever this topic was brought up, sullen silence ensued. We both knew we were RIGHT. And we both knew the other was WRONG. Weird how you can be right when someone else's right is so the opposite.

In the end, we just wanted different things from life. Josh wanted to have kids and live in Pleasantville the rest of his life. I wanted to travel the world and live in a tour bus with my kids. He wanted to live near his family. I wanted to live as far away as possible. Compromise wasn't an issue on the front end - but it catalyzed THE issue at the very end.

When I was six, I loved my Cabbage Patch doll fiercely. Then when I was seven, Dad made me get rid of her because of some scare about the word Xavier being on her bottom. Folks were saying they were used by Satan to get into our homes. I thought that was the stupidest grown-up thing I'd ever heard. I mean, a doll was a tool of Satan? Seriously? Especially my beloved red-yarn-haired Patty? No way. Adults were weird. Sometimes, I'd be minding my own business, playing, and my younger sister, Betsie, would get an itching to play with my dolls. Something about the fun I was having made her want to play. Mom would come downstairs after my sister complained that I wasn't letting her play with MY dolls. I'd get "five more minutes" to play and then have to turn it over to my sister. Sucked. For her and for me. Bets would watch in agony while I savored the last five minutes of play. Then I had to sit in skin-itching rage and watch her play (with far less excitement) with MY dolls. She didn't even like playing with dolls! Oooo...I hated it. At the end of our time, neither one of us felt satisfied. Rather, I was just on edge with that particular sister for the rest of the day. Drove me nuts.

Compromise. A gift. Impossible. Infuriating. Beautiful. At whatever age. Whether it's debating who gets to play with the doll or who gets to have kids when they want them, compromise is about giving parts of yourself away. It's kinda' like the green technicolor Shrek likes to say, "People are like onions with all sorts of layers." If the compromise is about something on one of the more surface layers, no biggie, it's easily attainable - "Oh honey, let's do Chinese food tonight, we did Mexican yesterday." It doesn't require a whole lotta' "give" on either person's side. The surface layers of people are easily compromised, especially if they learned to share when they were younger! And it's even a joy to compromise when you love someone. It means you get to give something to the person you love. It's really a beautiful thing.

But at other times, when it comes to a deeper layer of your onion, compromise asks you to alienate your very DNA, abandoning your created being for another's dream - "Of course I'll wait to have kids. Even though it's my biblical conviction, I really love you. I'll wait as long as you say."

I'm really not bitter. I just look back and realize, we were oh-so-very-different at our core. Josh's and my views on childbearing were stamped on our souls...or washed on our brain. Asking Josh to change would be like asking Corrie to quit singing...to start caring about lettuce on her teeth at every moment...to never kayak again. All these things are part of her genetic makeup. Whether it's tabula rosa (she was raised to be this way) or it's innate, I don't know. But I do know that I adore Corrie the way she is now. Asking her to be different than she is would make her less "Corrie," less wonderfully colorful; Less alive. The same is true for Josh. And the same is true for me. At the end of the day he and I realized we would never work, no matter how much love we had for each other.

For us, it was much more than a give-n-take in sharing toys. It was even more than a little personality clash. Josh and I were onions with opposite cores. We were each created for someone else. We were not going to work.

p.s. Please let me know what you think! I'm working on putting together a book about relationships...I'd LOVE your input! OR even your frustrations with relationships! Might be fodder for book material! :)

"What the Bugger Matchett's!"

2009-04-28T11:22:00.000-07:00

"Annetta! We're moving our whole family to Dallas to live at a ranch and help train college students to work with refugees and develop a theological construct in a gap year program! What's more we're raising our own funding!"

I checked my facebook in-box a few months ago and find this absurd anouncement from some dear friends. Somehow it didn't surprise me. I mean, they're always doing things "led by His Spirit." I mean, this is the same couple who adopted 2 children from Russia. The same couple that used to be the college pastor at Saddleback only to accept a position as a lowly associate pastor in a church plant in Katy Texas. It seems that my friends the Matchett's have developed a pattern in shunning the normal "step up" the church chain in the realm of "successful ministry"...

I got updates every now and again: "We put our house on the market four days ago and it SOLD today for more than the asking price!"; "We'll be there on a Thursday if you wanna' find folks to help us move in!"; "The kids are loving riding horses and playing on the ranch year round!". All the while that I'm getting these invites, well, I'm also getting the feeling that I'm supposed to respond somehow.

And I'm starting to get annoyed.

BUT. I love Rob and Misti. And they've never been too pushy before. If anything, they've simply helped me go my own way and been incredibly supportive of my less-than normal life choices. I mean, they were the ones who brought me to HBU in Houston. They were there when I left Tallowood. I worked for Rob for a few months after I broke off my engagement last year. They've seen the best and worst parts of Annetta.

Finding myself driving to the Ranch a few weeks ago, I was cautious, guarded and belligerent. You're getting this email because you know me. And knowing me, you know that if I arrive in a place with such a poor attitude, it's usually because I know it's something the Father has for me...and somehow, I'm not thinking it looks as rosy as the plans I have for MYSELF! But going out there...well...we're on to story Number two.

The Birthing of a World Changer

Arriving at Sabine Creek Ranch, Ben (a friend from Dallas who had accompanied me for the ride) and I were greeted by a chorus of raucus barking when we knocked on an unmarked door, searching for the Matchett family. Instead of familiar jolly Rob answering, we got sweet-spirited, entrepeneur Eddie. Walking back to some recently positioned temporary buildings, we sat down over ice-water for a chat with Eddie and Rob. We'd finally located Rob, pacing and chatting excitedly on the phone about this crazy SEGUE story.

Eddie told me his story first...: "About 18 months ago, I took a trip to China. I'd always had a sort of heart for missions and have been to China several times. As a minister over the years, I've been blessed to do inumerable international mission trips. But on this trip, heading back, I started to calculate up the number of dollars we'd spent on airfare for our small group to travel over there. After racking up in excess of 30g's, I started to think "there's GOT to be a better way to reach these people!" Arriving home, I stumbled across a program the UN was involved in bringing refugees to the states. I found out that most of these refugees, averaging the arrival rate of one new family in the Rockwall area every day, lived in apartments not too far from where I lived. The UN currently pays for 4 months of food and housing for these individuals. Generally, the refugees originated from Somalia, Burma and Muslim countries in the Middle East. All of these are countries that missionaries are trying to get into, but being denied based on religious reasons.

I started to show up every Tuesday night with my guitar. I'd play a few songs and tell a story of Jesus. Then I'd love on these beautiful people. I realized that most of the refugees were coming straight from the jungles of Butan and Sudan or from extended stays in refugee camps. This meant that most of them didn't know how to find a job and speak English, much less how to turn on hot water or how to work a light switch. To say they were remedial in survival mode in a big city was an understatement. They had virtually 4 months to learn the skills for survival in the states. I know it'd take me longer to develop survival skills in the jungles of Africa. How are they supposed to learn how to survive here? And most of these people are so desperate for anyone to help them that we're finding Hindu people open to the Gospel simply because we've offered them a lifeline of help. I started to pray about what God would have for these people using myself and the camp/.ranch He'd provided for my family to use as a ministry. I realized we only use the ranch to full-capacity in the summer. This left the ranch virtually empty for 9 months of the year. I mean, what if we could get a load of college/post-college age students to come live at the ranch and minister to these refugees? What if we offered them a theological foundation all the while?"

That is the birth story of SEGUE. Eddie called Rob (they had reconnected on facebook of all things!) and they began talking and praying...and within weeks, Rob's house was sold and the money raised for Rob's family to join Eddie on the Ranch.

The Deets
Segue: A musical interlude, leading to the next portion of a musical piece.

The Vision: Missions, Worship, Theology and Community forged into the lives of interns, students in a "gap" year of college or recently graduated.

In brief: On teams of 6, interns spend...

* 10 hours serving the refugees
* 10 hours in seminars - one weekly seminar on worship, one weekly seminar on missions, and one weekly seminar on spiritual formation
* 10 hours in worship and prayer = prayer room, recording studio, corporate and personal
* 10+ hours in a part-time job - hopefully in the field they want to pursue.

The 10 hours of classes a week will cover theological/spiritual formation to marriage/divorce/women's roles to Christian History to Calvinism v Arminianism to...you get the drift.

The part-time job will be outside of their normal SEGUE activities. We provide them a list of employers and they go for it! We want them to be plugged into the outside world while dialoguing with their teams of opportunities to witness, be Jesus-with-skin-on in the workplace.

We are passionate about helping these students develop a heart for missions, an entrepreneurial spirit for tentmaking (Eddie will provide classes on writing up business plans, etc.), a heart for passionate, free, creative worship, and an openness to authentic, vulnerable, accountable Christian community.

OK. SO this is the vision.

I'm putting together a few fundraising events to raise my salary. If you want to give or be a part of organizing an event, I NEED YOUR HELP. I'm extremely overwelmed with the thought of raising support. But when I realize I'm not asking for money for myself, I'm asking for money so I can minister to refugees, then I am hard-core passionate about BEGGING for support!

I'm also uber-active in recruiting high-capacity students interested in giving 9 months of their lives before going to law or medical school...or the mission field...or to seminary or the business workplace. We're praying for cream-of-the-crop students to minister to these refugees who will be the leaders of their countries when they return.

We want future world changers to love on the future world leaders of Bhutan, Napali, and all these countries that current missionaries have no access to.

Jobless and Jubilant!

2009-03-26T11:54:00.000-07:00

"I love you Tink!", so said the text message sent to me last Thursday morning. In the middle of my quiet time, I quickly shot back a "Y tu Senorita!" and went back to reading...but then I started to have a distinct foreshadowing in my spirit. I forged another text, "So I have this weird feeling I'm going to lose my job today...pray I don't if it's His will!" And with a text response back to me promising prayer, I went to work and forgot all about the exchange until 2:30pm when receiving a phone call from the temp agency that controlled my "temp-to-hire" contract. I'd been with the company 10 1/2 weeks. They'd called that afternoon and asked to have my contract terminated. "FIRED?! ME? What? What'd I do??" was my first reaction. I mean, the shame, the negative connotations of being "let go" immediately surfaced. But they just as quickly dissapated as well. I had an overwhelming sense of God's Sovereignty. Seemed He was just as much in control at 2:30pm as He was at 2pm. I asked the agent if there was a reason and she said they said not really and that they "really hated to do this." Wow. In a blink of an eye, my source of income was obliterated...

I had just been thinking of how homesick I was and knew I had no plans til Tuesday now that work was outta' the way. So home I went.

Dad and Mom and I hung out and talked about the Father's role in all of this...the why's and timing of it all...it all seems to be the beginning of the a new chapter for me. "New chapter?" you say? Yes, I know it seems all I've done in this past year is make new beginnings in different places. And even returning to Dallas Monday night was a bit of a stretch to say it feels like home...whatever that means. But I would say that Dallas feels more like home than any other place. This Sunday I join the church I've been attending for 6 months...a place I feel called to be connected more deeply with each passing hour.

But even in the supposed quietness of His working, I know He is indeed doing just that: working. The same God who foretold I was to lose my job and then took it in an instant is the same God who will provide for me tomorrow. He is the same God who has spent a year making me into a different person. What a SLOW year it's been too! The rough times go so slowly and the happy times speed by with nary a dull moment. In the past year I've learned a few things...and I'll have to put them into 2 postings, but here's the condensed version:

1. I've had my first real heartbreak.
2. I've moved to 4 different cities and 6 different houses.
3. I've slept on countless friends couches while crying on countless friends shoulders.
4. I've heard His Voice more clearly than I've ever heard it.
5. I've seen more clearly into the present, eternal Kingdom than I've ever seen.
6. I've been humbled to the point that I realize I desperately need more humbling.
7. I've started to realize that the patience I've earnestly prayed for isn't a pansy state, rather it's a wrestling (Hebrew states: writhing, groans as in childbirth!) place of the soul while waiting on Him to come.
8. I've started to realize the beginning stages of walking in His Presence. A place I've desired to be in for years, He's graced me with more and more of Him to the point that I sense Him all the time. In fact, I've started to ask His opinion on more than the average things...i.e., I used to ask occasionally, "do You want me to see this movie? or call this person or?" and now I ask Hi all the time. It's odd how it's becoming second nature...I pray it increases evermoreso!
9. Learning to bank my heart and trust in Him. His Presence more than His Hand.
10. That being said, learning that waiting for His Promises is a natural and right place to be in the midst of pain and seeming desert-land.

We really do live in the shadowlands. If we could but see (almost a streaming consciousness type of deal) His eternality in the moments of this current, fading reality, we'd live in His Presence pre-heaven. While I long for the day He takes me home, some days more than others!, finding His Presence a reality here abates some of that deeper longing of the soul. I realize His purpse for me is far greater than moving the masses. His purpose is far greater for me than a best-selling novel or cd. His purpose is even greater for me than leading thousands in true worship of The One Worthy. His purpose for me is to know and be known by Him...living fully out of the heart He created me to live out of.

Wow. Decadent. Grace-filled. I'm so unworthy...But He's The One Worthy.

I wait for His next step, believing all the promises He has stored up tis past year for such a time as this, I am at peace and joyful. I know He has a good plan. And the main thing is that it includes knowing Him. What do YOU think?

If you want to pray for a few specifics for this journey of mine, email me and I'll shoot the few things I'm bringing before Him to you. And I'd love to pray for you in YOUR journey too!

His.

annetta

BATHROOMTRIPATNIGHT Stage

2009-03-19T21:22:00.000-07:00

Practically all of my life I have had an overactive nocturnal bladder. I know, I know, "TMI" you say. But seriously, I think every night of my life has found me getting up to go to the bathroom at 2 or 3 in the morning. This is so very annoying. Leaving a comfortable, warm bed is never fun. Although knowing I have a few hours left to sleep always makes it better. Anywho...

The POINT is, for my whole life I've had to walk to the bathroom in the dark. When a child, this freaked me out. I thought every shadow was a boogey man ready to suck my blood. I'd also trip over things or get disoriented over my surroundings. As I've grown older, no matter where I wake up, I seem to have developed a heightened alertness in these bewitching hours. I immediately know where I am, which direction to walk, and sometimes make my bathroom trip without ever really waking up!

Currently, life has me in a "bathroomtripatnight" stage. I'm walking in the dark. The nutty thing is, I've been walking in the dark, in faith, for so long, that I'm not falling as much. Practicing this faith walk this past year, following Him through heartbreak, moving, relocating friends, new jobs, etc., I'm starting to get into the rhythm. And when the most recent upset came about (lost my job today!), I felt like I didn't miss a beat.

Please don't hear me saying I'm amazing...hear me saying, HE's amazing. His patience (He took several years for me to get this one!) in teaching me in a kind and gracious manner has left me specchless.

Where all the fun is...

2009-02-26T14:49:00.000-08:00

I heard from ol' friends today. Keving and Julie Walker. If you get a chance you should check out their website...www.walkit.org They have a retreat center for worship leaders in Colorado. Pretty amazing stuff if you ask me!

We emailed back and forth about some fun stuff and then I got an email that said, "Everyone has to WAIT on the Lord, I mean, He's the LORD. But Patiently waiting...that's where all the fun is. Where the relationship is."

I've been sitting here thinking on that...knowing that we live in the world of "not yet"..."Not yet to heaven..." "Not yet for hearing back on that job..." "Not yet for that vacation this summer..." "Not yet for kids.." "Not yet for marriage..." "Not yet for your dreams coming true..." Lotsa' "Not yet's".

Today I'm thankful for the "Not yet's"...they allow me to really trully wait at His feet. Kinda' a fun place to be if I do say so myself...

Tampering Espresso...AND Souls

2008-12-19T14:34:00.001-08:00

Espresso machine
Originally uploaded by toni wahid.

I can't really do espresso anymore...I overdosed on espresso too many times when I worked at S*bucks. I like those ol' school espresso makers...you know, the ones where the espresso goes into a little silver bucket with a black handle. The ones where the barista taps down the espresso so it's firmly packed before the steaming hot water is pressed through it...

Here I am. In Dallas...about to be out of a job...about to be homeless (again). But with amazing friends, a church I dearly love and a conviction that I am supposed to be here. Moreso, I believe with all my heart, that He brought me here for my GOOD. Hebrews 11...believing in the unseen...it's what He's been having me do for the last 2 years.

And I see whispers of provision...getting to sing a little more with my church...being approached by a friend about writing music for a feature film...finding a girl I'm CONVINCED needs to be my roommate...starting to settle in a bit. Moreso, my heart is content. I enjoy life here. I enjoy giving and loving. I enjoy being single. I'm grateful for Him today.

You know, when the barista taps down the ground espresso, it's for better brewing. Somehow, espresso that's tightly packed gives off more flavor when the hot water steams through it. I feel in so many ways that He has been tapping down my soul the past few months...having me wait for His provision, well, it makes me know that it's not me making things happen! It's so clear that all the gifts and provision that are coming are purely from His bounty. It's as if He's about to shoot through this soul of mine with His Spirit and His tapping down my soul was His way of enabling more of His Spirit to shine through this vessel.

Can I tell you how grateful I am? I am so confident of His coming provision. It blows my mind that He has given me this faith to see the unseen. I am so humbled. He saw fit to allow me to be a part of showing others how GOD provides for His kids. It's stunning really.

Just wanted to post of my overwhelming gratefulness. And to say, yet again, He is coming. More so, even better, He is HERE.

Emmanuel this Christmas season...God WITH us.

Much love...

ab

Standin' Still: Eyes Wide, Knees A-Knockin'

2008-12-09T12:39:00.001-08:00

a desert and suddenly...the sea
Originally uploaded by Barfuss.

Senses are heightened as I stand in front of glassy-filmed water, deep and wide. There's no crossing. No path laid out in front of me. Just a knowledge that beyond that mammoth body of water lies the Promised Land; My destiny lies beyond the Red Sea.

I look down at the ground, dirt and sand and pebbles cover the ground in a tan coat. Oddly enough, there's no ants scurrying about...not even the occasional lizard scurrying out of sight. If I look closely, I can see the ground vibrating...the rhythm extends to the water in front of me causing the lucid liquid to ripple ever so slightly. The vibrations grow as do the riples.

I look behind me. Horses; All pounding with thousands of pounds of flesh and javelins extended. Pointing towards my heart. Blood in the eyes of the riders and a stench wafts to my nostrils of sweat and thick dust kicked up from their ride; this army of TIME.

I lick dry lips and chew on them in nervousness. A fear is swelling inside. I quote Scripture to keep it at bay: Lamentations 3:22-24,

"The Lord's lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Thy faithfulness. The Lord is my portion says my soul, therefore I have hope in Him."

Part of my soul rings in triumph at this truth. Part of me is centered on the growing trembling of the earth as this army approaches. My hands are cold and clammy, trembling in rhythm to the horse hooves. My heart is swelling with emotion. Part of me is scared to tears...and the other grasps with all my might on truth:

HE WILL SAVE. He will make a way.

I think time has to get short enough (the Egyptians have to get close enough) to show that nothing is an issue when you have a God as powerful as the One I serve...

Creating as an Act of Faith?

2008-12-01T08:42:00.000-08:00

Is creating, as a Christian artist, an act of faith?

Hebrews 11 talks of the world being prepared by God's invisible word; "what is seen was not made out of things which are visible." It makes me wonder if an artist's creativity is outsourced from this invisble well. Perhaps the things of beauty we see are all depictions of that invisible world.

I also wonder about artist's as prophets. A friend and I were talking of some of these thoughts over java this weekend. 3 thoughts for this at first glance. 1. The majority of artist's works seem to be depictions of past or current scenarios. 2. When an artist paints of the everyday, in his perspective, there is such a clear depiction of the eternal reality underlying the everyday that the future is clearly seen. 3. When an artist does paint of the future, it is almost as a warning.

Thoughts?!? Anyone?!?

Discovery Zone

2008-11-26T07:36:00.000-08:00

A friend and I were talking last week about some of the basic engagements of men...he was saying that a major action is to discover. E.g., Adam spent his first days naming animals to discover that not one of them was suitable for him. God didn't tell him in advance, he just let him discover it. Makes me think of Isaac, my 2 year old nephew. I think the most oft-used phrased in his vocabulary is, "Let ME do it!" He wants to discover what it is to be HIM.

I've spent so much of my life discovering who God's created me to be and what it is He's placed in my heart to do...I've also spent much time discovering who He is (and let me tell you, knowing Him better ALWAYS helps me know me better!)...

So here's to the great adventure that awaits YOU today! Discover...a new park bench...a new favorite sandwich...a new friend...

Mad Skills and Skin-Bags of the Holy Spirit

2008-11-25T12:39:00.000-08:00

Artists are prophets.

With a created makeup of talent, sweat-bullets of skill and acting as skin-bags of The Holy Spirit, they can foretell the future. Their paradigm, God-endowed into their solitudinal souls, sees beyond the surface of this world to the reality underneath: 3D versus our 1D. Francis Schaeffer was thinking as an artist when he wrote, "Art is the language of the soul, not the servant of political action committees, right thinking ideologies or trendy editors...The existence of the arts is the most tangible evidence of the existence of the soul.” The artist speaks of the underlying reality of the world...that reality only seen by those tapped into their soul-energy...their Creator. Moreso, filled with the Holy Spirit they have all the wisdom of the ages. They have the wisdom of God which sees beyond our petty 21st century and throughout all time, since before time began and into the future. Artists are called to read clues that the Father sets out for them to read. Clues found in the undercurrent of eternal reality (lying underneath this present reality) are black-n-white arrows to what the future holds. For instance, take the picture of Bezalel when he was given the task of 'creating' the temple. We see he was skilled and ready for the task. And then we see him "filled with the Holy Spirit." Albeit, his creative license was definitely guided by direct, minute-detail Divine intervantion at work in his story, but can't we see the story of Jesus foretold in the makeup of the temple? Isn't the prophecy of Christ's redemption seen manifested in the prophetic, artistic work of Bezalel's temple when temple curtain tears upon Christ's death?
An artist's paradigm, while revolutionary, is controversy-laden for multiple reasons, one being that not all artists are tapped into the Omniscient Holy Spirit. Another reason is that in humaness, sometimes the arrows are read wrong. Finally, perchance they're also controversy-laden because most want to believe that the world is exactly what THEY see and no one else has a better understanding. It would behoove the believer to understand that Divine revelation comes in all sorts of packages...and unless it is conflicting with His Word, it has just as much a chance of being "right" as their own "right" beliefs.

What do YOU think????

**This is not to elevate the artist's ability to hear God better than a non-artist. It only seems harder for a non-artist to have a unique, God-given paradigm as they are not naturally inclined to think outside the confines of what their eyes see in this present reality. I believe it is every believer's responsibility to seek His vision for His Kingdom here "on earth as it is in heaven." Let's jump into our responsibility feet first!

His Economy

2008-11-25T07:56:00.000-08:00

For two months, I've been living in an uber sweet pad, 15 minutes from work. There's a security guard 24/7. There's also an amazing running trail around a picturesque, almost-italian canal and lake that feeds into a safe section of woods. It's really quite stunning. The balcony overlooks a beautiful section of the city...the apartment's fully-furnished with a comfy bed...Stay with me here, there's a point! I've been living here, in this $1200/month apartment, just paying utilities. So the Father picks out a $1400/month deal for me and gets it for $200. And it has been the perfect safe place for me the past few months. I needed a place to get my feet under me; to escape all the other voices and listen to His. So, He provided this place for me...

THEN, when the girl decided to break her lease, I thought, "Oh no! I'll never find something this nice for this cheap. Sad, I was really enjoying the space and solitude, etc." BUT. I was surprised again...He opened up a bedroom and bath, rent-free in the house of a friend of a friend. An uber nice house I might want to add. And they have a great running trail and lake complete with fountain as well. When I was moving in last night, I had 3 guy friends helping carry in stuff...as we walked past the mom, she said, "No way! Jared!" Turns out they're buddies from a church he used to play for...and I was worried that my friends wouldn't come hang because I'm living in some random folks house...

Isn't it amazing how you think there's no way He could beat the goodness He's already gifted you with and then He jumps in and goes above and beyond what you were hoping for?!?

2008-11-13T07:41:00.000-08:00

Love never gives up.

It doesn't. When things are hard. When we don't understand.

I thought love gave up. But my Father? He never gives up. And ME? How do I respond to the Father's love? Do I give up trusting in His great love for me when the road seems impossible? Not today I won't. I believe today more than ever before in His overwhelming love...His neverending faithfullness...His all-encompassing goodness. He cares so deeply for me...there is NO END to His love for me. We have only to read His gospels, to watch "The Passion of the Christ" to sense again how much He gave up to love us.

Yet in my world, where things seem difficult, I so often want to give up on love. And this is where I sit...giving up ground slowly but surely. But I say, NOT TODAY. I won't give up today.

I can't see. But I trust. I can't breathe at times, there is so much opposition. But I have faith in His goodness. I have hope in His goodness. I know how much it hurts HIM to see me hurting. And in this...I just beg for the ability to love Him supernaturally. It's so easy to love Him isn't it? It's also so easy to fall away. Why? Maybe because grace is free. It only costs your life. But it's really in giving your life that you get your life. So really, it's free.

Reading 1 Corinthians 13, the line, "pursue love but desire earnestly spiritual gifts" rings in my cranium.

Love. I saw "Love Actually", the Brit movie, when it came out...one of the love stories was over-the-top in my book (if you've seen it, you know, if not, there's no need to explain such debauchery!). But, for the most part, I felt like it gave a pretty accurate depiction of human love. Human love.

I really do think it only mirrors His love. It's such a farce compared to His. If human love isn't grounded in Divine love, well, it's a 20/80 chance of making it unscathed to the end. Maybe I'm off in this percentage but...

I've been in love mode with Him for a few days. But it surprised me how one little hitch in my getalong and off the band wagon I flew. So quickly I fell off the "Oh Father, All my hopes and dreams and trust are in You! I really do believe when I can't see!" Funny that He allows me to see my unfaithfulness so clearly. As a human it's only NORMAL that I'd have issues seeing into the unseen. BUT, I'm not called to live a NORMAL life. SUPERNATURAL is where He's going with me.

I still claim "OH He's SO GOOD!" so quickly. But my heart almost belies this with an ache. An ache that I think I put there. I was talking with someone recently about expectations...expectations is the food of bitterness. It's the food of discontentment. When expectations aren't met, well, bitterness and discontentment most often follow.

But when I get that His life for me doesn't look exactly like the life I'd choose for myself, well, I can move past all feelings of bitterness or discontentment. Honestly, I think the life He'd choose for me would be better than the life I'd choose for myself. I can't wait to see what He does next...

Magnifico!

2008-11-08T22:18:00.000-08:00

Muck.
Ugliness.
Envy.
Anger… Fear.

I get so bogged down in my sin. the muck overwhelms me. And then all I can see is my dirt. I've been this way for a while: Incredibly adept at identifying the ugly parts of me. Most often, I then revel in that self-identity. It’s so sad really. I mean, honestly, He created me a beautiful, wonderful human being; A glorious creation unlike any other. And I live life like a muddied princess.

But if I think about, I’m not alone in my affinity for living life out of this warped sense of identity. Not to point fingers or anything, but the disciples might have been better at this than me.Reading through the Gospels, Jesus seemed exasperated with the disciples more often than not. But seriously, who wouldn't be? As a rabbi, Jesus had called them to follow and learn from Him. That was part of a rabbi’s job description. If you look back through rabbinical codes it's clear that a rabbi doesn't try to invite a mentally slow, capacity-lacking individual to follow him. Rather, a rabbi would weigh and judge the abilities of the individual first. When he saw the person was worthy of following him, he would invite the individual to follow him. When Jesus was frustrated with the disciples, it was not because he was thinking, "Wow. How'd I get stuck with these bozo's?" Rather, he was probably frustrated with their lack of manifested potential. He knew He had created them with every ability to accomplish the tasks at hand. He knew they could follow Him...they just kept getting bogged down in 'stuff'.

I can just hear Peter thinking, “Oh gosh. I screwed up last time. I can't screw up this time. I’d better not say the wrong things." Then in his overanalyzing, hyper-sensitivity, ultra-stressed state, he missed the point of just breathing in Jesus teachings. Then, he’d mess up. Again. I think we call that self-fulfilling prophecy.

In Velvet Elvis, Rob Bell enlightens me of Jesus' relationship with the disciples. Jesus didn't leave the disciples with the Great Commission because He felt they couldn't do it. Rather, He left the disciples with the Great Commission because He knew they could do it. He had created them with the capacity for great things. He knew they could handle working out the great commission. Well, He knew they could work if out if they used His little parting gift: The Holy Spirit. Jesus only seemed frustrated with them when they weren't living up to that potential. Jesus had the upper hand in that He knew the full-extent of their abilities. I mean, He was there when they were created.

He knew they were capable of much, much more. Marianne Williamson says: “Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, handsome, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us. It is not just in some; it is in everyone. And, as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Ok, don't get me wrong, I hate self-help mumbo-jumbo as much as anyone. But at the same time, I don't think recognizing our God given purpose and created ability is self-help talk. I believe that when I fail to give Him credit for all the power and beauty He created me to live out of, well, I’m actually discrediting His creation. In essence, I’m failing to give Him the glory due Him. And failing to recognize the creature He’s intended for me is failing to allow the glorious, created version of me to exist.

Even understanding that here helps me to slowly become moreso that woman He’s created me to be. I remember reading C.S. Lewis's depiction of Adam and Eve in his sci-fi book Pereleandra. Lewis's version of Adam wasn't a wimpy, burdened-down-with-his-depravity sort of creature. Rather, Adam was beautiful in his terrible awesomeness. The gloriousness of his created being was manifested for all to drink in. And the character that represented Eve was even more glorious. The embodiment of all that is gracious and lovely and beautiful, her pure heart trusted the Lord yet maintained a strength evident in the very way she walked. Eve was the epitome of grace and beauty. She was mighty, yet with a gentle and quiet spirit. Her beauty was interior and exterior.

So how do I become that same 'eve' I was created to be? I definitely have areas of muck to be waded through and cleared out. But in the midst of this muck, I am increasingly freed from the curse of self-doubting as I embrace the fullness of His grace. Each day finds me believing moreso that there is a terribly, awesome, glorious Annetta that only awaits my standing up and becoming. Living out my created purpose, simply becoming the me He intends, in Him. Via Him. Meanwhile, until I stand up and become, I am falling short of this created purpose.

I most often live as if someone has sliced a little into my Achilles heel, as if I’m crippled. And my Father’s response is, "Stand up My child! I've created you for far greater than this. You are falling short only because you choose to fall short and not because I created you less than what you think you are. Live out My purpose for you today!" In these moments, hearing His Voice so clearly, my chosen response is clear. Today I choose to relentlessly pursue becoming the created Annetta. I won’t pursue being her in an ontological, 'self-actualized' kinda' way. Rather, I’ll pursue His created kid in a "I'm a daughter of the King, created with specific and magnificent abilities to love Him" kinda' way. In this way, I’ll live out my true identity.

Oh! Magnifico! That He has created me! I love the way He has done so! And when I think that He spent time on me, just as He did the brilliant, majestic, terrible, beautiful mountains, I am humbled. So as I reach for the higher heights He has created me for...let's reach together. Let’s not seek to be better than one another. Let’s purpose to be a better “me.” Let’s be who we were created to friends!

And let's change the world.

**I posted a semblance of this post a few years back..but was re-reading and editing and in the process of re-learning this...ah...how slow I ofttimes am at pickin up what He's putting down...**

I am Yours

2008-11-07T22:05:00.001-08:00

There's something about seeing old friends and remembering the past that helps me to remember myself.

For 6 weeks (more maybe??) I've lived in a new city with a new job at a new place finding a new church while putting together this new life.

Today I hung with a few of my dearest friends and family and then went on a long run to really breathe Him in...breathing Him in on an old running trail was like seeing an old friend for the first time in a long time. I was home. And at home, I was reminded of who I am:

His kid.

I don't have to impress. I don't have to be anything other than who I am. Freedom arrives with identity. I don't need social status.

I was also able to meet with a dear friend who is in the midst of immense pain. A beautiful soul, I was reminded again that our lives are purposed to love others. It is such a gift to walk through another's junk. To hear her heart, her pains and brokenness, was an honor not all human beings are given. Yet He has seen fit to give me this space in so many lives. I am so humbled.

For those of you reading that have spoken into my life, I thank you sincerely and wholeheartedly. I see the light now for the first time in a while. While the sky is still charcoal, dawn hasn't broken yet, the light has tinged the horizon. And I am so encouraged to believe what I had lost faith in...that He is indeed coming for me. In the midst of the horror of the past year, I had so many days of losing hope. I thought He had abandoned me. But now, before I see Him arrive, I have a desperate need to say, "I believe. You are here. You are coming."

O happy day! He reminds me that my identity is not an Israelite child in the desert; one who gripes and forgets His provision. Rather, my identity is His child who proclaims the way of Him in that desert. Years ago He prepped my heart for this time. He gave me Habakkuk 2:1-3,

"I will stand on my guard post and station myself on the rampart; And I will keep watch to see what He will speak to me, and how I may reply when I am reproved. Then the Lord answered me and said, "Record the vision and inscribe it on tables, that the one who reads it may run. For the vision is yet for the appointed time; It hastens toward the goal and it will not fail; though it tarries, wait for it; for it will certainly come, it will not delay."

Father. I believe. I know You are coming. My heart yearns for You. I wait in full expectation of the amazing things You are going to bring to pass. I am shouting it from the roof tops Father...I am writing it on this tablet that those who may read it may run deeper into your arms. You will not delay a moment longer than needed. In fact, Your Word says You will not delay. So on this Word I place my life...my heart...my plans...my all. For You are my all. And in this space, and this space alone, I am who I am created to be: Yours.

You are so good! I love You.

2008-11-06T09:21:00.000-08:00

"We must see Him in the small things so that we can recognize when He is doing the big things Annetta." So said our courier, Isaac. Love him. A brother from Ghana, he is a bright spot in my every day. He awakens at 4 in the morning to begin his prayers. And then he listens to 2 sermons (Charles Stanley bring it!)...and then he makes his way through the day.

I've had so many ups and downs in the past 2 months; something about moving to a new city with a new job and a new house and new friends...But Isaac has seemed to pop in at just the right moments: when I needed a family smile or someone who sees past my exterior. As my brother in Christ, he encouraged me to listen harder to that quiet Voice.

2008-11-06T06:57:00.000-08:00

I am SO STINKIN' TIGHT FISTED with my life. I hold onto it, white knuckles, gritting teeth and locked knees. I even have that look in the eye...you know, thevolumes-communicating staredown your momma gives you. If you don't remember that look from your mom, it's probably because it was given right before all memory of it was slapped out of your head. She gave you the look. You didn't heed the look. You got the look slapped upside your noggin.

Back to tight fisted. I'm a control freak really. I like to be the one to determine the whens and wheres and hows of life in my world. I think if I learned that He has a better plan for me than I have for myself, well, I'd be a whole lot less stressed.

As it is, I hate displacement. I think I can pretty much say I own this space: Displacement. Out of all the craziness of the past year, it might leave the biggest mark. I was in a particular grand mood the other evening...I'd heard news of being displaced yet again. My first reaction was GRIPEY. My normal brand of girpeyness tends I'm gripey, it tends to be humorous. I'm sardonic and full of biting, witty quips. But this particular streak, not so funny. I just wanted to sit down and cry. And when I got to a party with friends, I did just that. And maybe that was the particularly funny part of the gripeyness. I mean, consider: At a friend's party, on his front steps, crying by myself while everyone else is laughing inside. Ok. Maybe a little more slit-your-wrist sad, but my aftermath finds me laughing at the mental picture.

All to say, without wallowing anymore in the pits of self-pity, as I look back my moments of despair and pain, while legitimate, are not necessarily God-glorifying.

2008-11-04T09:06:00.000-08:00

I love fall. The crackling leaves...crisp air...the oranges and reds and yellows and greens in the changing foliage...I love the pumpkins on porches and the cheers from the crowd at a high school football game. I love sitting on a front porch and watching kids ride their bikes in the streets...

Naked

2008-10-25T13:00:00.000-07:00

In April, my engagement to be married crumbled before my very eyes. In the space of a few hours I found myself plopped squarely back in Texas after living in my Prince Charmings's cornfield-packed county for several months. Arriving back, I was desolate, destitute, heartbroken, bleeding and visionless. Well, maybe not visionless as much as visions were in a state of death. I thought I was marrying my true love. I'd never abided in a place with so little light before. While the previous years had held many dark and broken desert times, nothing compared to the dark tunnel I inhabited. It was if He had finally left me to rot in all my self-righteousness with nothing left to offer anyone, least of all myself.

I cried for Him to come for me. For hours I wept, begging for His Presence to not leave me in the midst of the excruciating agony. It was almost worse than a loved one dying...after all, it WAS a death of a love. But it also held themes of rejection and isolation and questions that would never be fully answered. And the shoulda-coulda-woulda's were rampant. So I wept for hours for His Presence to rescue me from the squalored pit I inhabited. So many hours were spent asking Him to come for me and my heart and soul were worn down to paper-thin imitations of their identity. I now understood so clearly Frodo's weight of the ring; I resonated with his cry of feeling like butter scraped over dry bread.

My prayers eventually turned to "Father take me home"...a mournful cry that was less suicidal and more a recognition of my alienation in this world. Desperate for any moment of relief, my soul watched for Him. I doggedly waited for a moment when His voice would speak, pridelessly begging for Him to do something on my behalf. I reminded Him of my identity as His daughter; Of His Scriptures promising to give me a future; of Luke 12 promising to give me good gifts, the gift of the Holy Spirit; of my place in His hand; of how He was and is supposed to manifest His love for me in the ordinary every day; Most often I would cry out from the dark, damp pit I inhabited, the pit with a darkness so black it fell like a heavy current in the putrid air sucking all life out of my lungs. Each day I would think, "I can not get any lower than this. Surely today is the day when I've hit rock-bottom and it is now time to work my way back up." But then that day would surprise and wound me as I descended deeper into the darkness, to places that some never go.

I knew nothing other than pain and darkness at times. At other times I would be so numb that I would imagine myself in a state of healing. And then excruciating agony would come crashing down on me the next day until I was reduced to howling like a wounded animal. I'd never heard such noises emit from my mouth. But there was a point when tears and rocking in a fetal position wouldn't work anymore. It was at this point that I would ask Him where He was. I begged Him to take me home...told Him, "there's nothing left of me, I can't handle this and You know I can't handle this." And I would hear nothing but my own voice. I would beg to hear something from Him...a crumb; Anything; To have one pinpoint of light. My heart and soul were convinced that He had, in fact, abandoned me while my mind was adamant that He was the Presence in the darkness. My mind waved the banner of His Voice. I battled for His glory in my soul. There were so many slivers of time that stretched on as eons into eternity as I would engage in spiritual battle for this life He has given me. Hearing a silent Voice saying, "soon, not yet," it was a waging of wars. Daily combats for the Voice He created in me waged wars against lies of lack of love, worthlessness, unworthiness, and more.

Each day found me with renewed vigor begging to be sent HOME.

Until there was no more feeling...no more noise...no more battling...just a deeply depressive nothingness. I had said/thought/prayed/screamed it all so many times that I was no more.

So I started to just sit at His feet. Not feeling His Presence at first, but believing He was there. I'd sit. I'd breathe. No strength to do anything else. Not even strength to do that really. Slowly it began to effect me. My breathing took on a rhythm not my own. It was if I was relearning to breathe. And life began to spin less. The darkness no longer sat as a blanket of terror. Rather, darkness morphed into a friend. A friend that focused my heart and mind and soul on Him. In the light, distractions abounded. Comfort brings contentment. But the darkness spurred on a frenzy of prayers I had never prayed. The pain made me see His face as the goal. With job, life, love all deleted, I was without identity. Or so I thought. Eternal reality spoke into me His truth: He and I are all that matters to my worth. If I do nothing else in this life, I am enough. I am enough because He is more than enough within me.

And here I sit.

Knowing His pulsing through my soul relies less on a moving of blood and more on a movement of life, His life within me.

I am so grateful. A month ago I was in a church service when the beauty of singing "He is mighty to save" and "How great the Father's love for us, how vast beyond all measure" left me with tears streaming unashamedly down my cheeks. I was overcome with His goodness in the midst of the pain.

I've walked through the numb times. The times of question. The times of anger. And most recently I've simply sat at His feet.

Now I wait. I'm waiting for Him to move me to what's next. Breathing all the while, I fall in step with Him, less noticing the surroundings and more noticing His face. Kinda' the same feeling I had when I was out with Justin, he was the only one around and I rarely noticed anyone else, kid, old woman, family, much less any other man. And now, it is this way with sweet Jesus.

He is my all. He is my heart.

Book Signing!

2008-10-24T08:33:00.000-07:00

Hey Guys!

If anyone's in the Dallas area this weekend (particularly Saturday afternoon) I have a dear friend that is doing a book signing...I've mentioned this book before: The Calling. Seriously, it will change your life! If you're in the DFW area, holler and I'll get ya all the details! It'll be a memory for you for sure! It's at Barnes & Noble Bookstore in the Stonebriar Mall (Frisco) from noon until 4pm, 10.25.08. Check her website out: www.thecalling-novel.com/

Hope to see you there!

Don't Be One Of Those Goobers

2008-10-21T14:57:00.003-07:00

you've got mail. minus meg ryan and tom hanks.
Originally uploaded by emily[love].

It's all personal.

The traffic, the courier, the lunch dates, the facebook posts, the weather, the PB with no J days, the conversations, the bad hair days, it's all personal.

And if you're one of those goobers that wants to thump a soap box with your thesis of "it's-only-personal-if-you-let-it-be-personal," well, Meg Ryan (in You've Got Mail) would retort right back to you, "What does that mean except that it's not personal to you. Everything's personal." Everything in life, whether one means it or not, is personal. Everything in life, whether you want it to be or not, is personal. The things done around and to us effect us. Our souls are touched by the people around us and the conversations that feed it everyday. In fact, I'd submit that we internalize "effects" more thoroughly than we internalize the air we breathe. Maybe that's why we don't even realize everything effects us so much, we do it without a thought. We're sensitive little creatures. Our hearts are the wellspring of our lives. If it touches our heart, well, it's gonna mess with our lives. It's all personal, it effects and touches our lives and effectually our souls.

Going through a major grief recently, My heart was profoundly effected. In the aftermath of effects, I went through many a stage. Maybe it was my sensitivity in the midst of these stages that started to realize how trully sensitive we all are.

The anger stage wasn't pretty. In fact, it might have been downright ugly. Not only did I gain 10 lbs because I ate everything in sight (my passivity requires munching things rather than people) but I also suffered some disgusting road rage. I mean, I was the girl that talked to herself in the car as if the person that just legitimately cut me off could actually hear my weenie insults. Seriously, I might be the kindergartner of insulters. I can't say something that really zings someone whenever they're standing right in front of me. Instead, I replay the scene over and over in my head, thinking of what I should or could have said.** Bugger me.

But after the anger stage, or perhaps in and out of the anger stage, I was in the emotionally-crazy stage. I'm not really sure this is the correct psychological name for this stage. But I'll tell you it could not be a more apropo name for the reality I inhabited. In this stage, you are set off by any and every little thing in life. I.e., you spill a drink, your day is spoiled. You lose your keys, your life is over. If someone were to respond in a manner unlike what I thought was the appropriate response, I would immediately feel rejected and dejected while my hand always reached for that dang candy bowl on my work desk. It doesn't matter if that person were telling me that the mail had already come and the package could only go out today if I called in a special pickup, well, I'd still feel completely put off. Nuts, I know.

Pre-anger/emo, I was really a case of despondance. Nothing really bothered me because I had no feelings. Had I won the lottery, I would have taken a nap.

Now? Well...I think the emo has dulled...the anger has cooled...and I might actually feel alive for the first time in a long time. Now, I'm not saying I'm healed. This precious heart of mine has undergone some serious trauma this past year. Even with attempts to guard it, it was left looking like a mac truck had done some doughnuts and mudding in it's remnants. Not much left. But I will say that I sense a major shift in healing, I mean, I haven't begged Him to "take me HOME!" for a few months now.

I have the Master Healer...and He has been incredibly good about finding all the little pieces scattered in the dirt. He continues to speak of those things I had no idea had effected me. Ofttimes it's an excursion back into one of these stages that reminds me that I have healing yet to do. Occasionally I even digress back to the anger stage and dredge up horrible little things I coulda/woulda/shoulda said. But then, a bit of wisdom from the secularists inevitably floats to the top of my brain, a clip from Meg Ryan again, reminiscing her own success in the timely insults department: "Wouldn't it be wonderful if I could pass all my zingers to you and then I would never behave badly and you could behave badly all the time and we'd both be happy? On the other hand, I must warn you that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say at the moment you mean to say it, remorse inevitably follows."**

Thus, I am reminded of the vanity and fleeting deliciousness of said insults...and know that I'd be the one writing a long apology later. *sigh* One day my heart will look like Jesus so much that I'll desire only sweet things to say rather than tart.

Much love y'all...

Annetta

**If I'd just realize that saying what I want to say at the moment I want to say it is not the road to healing I might in fact cease to desire said insulting. However, knowing my stubborn idiocy in that matter, probably not.

Hannah

2008-09-20T21:50:00.000-07:00

The other night I was reading a few verses before hitting the hay. I like to read right Scripture right before I sleep because of that whole osmosis thing...I'd rather meditate on Scripture than on anything else while I sleep. Something about it being lifegiving....ANYWHO. I flipped open the Scripture, really tired and ready to read a few and switch the light off. Job 8:5-7 flipped on like a neon flashing light on a Vegas strip.

If you would seek God and implore the compassion of the Almighty, If you are pure and
upright, surely now He would rouse Himself for you and restore your righteous estate.
Though your beginning was insignificant, yet your end will increase greatly.

Here went my dialogue to Him: Father, surely this can't be fore me. I mean look at it...I'd be taking it totally out of context! Bilhad said this to Job. BILHAD. One of the friends that You criticize. Is anything he says any good? How do I know it's for ME??? What if I'm just really reaching here for something. Maybe I just really want a promise from You and I'm conjuring one up from a passage that says nothing of the kind.

His dialogue to me: Annetta. Breathe.

So, being the good little seminarian that I am, I looked up Hebrew roots to words and meditated on what it meant for me to be pure and holy today. I came up with a list even. Bugger me. I can't ever seem to rid myself of legalism. But the list remained for the evening and even into the next morning through my quiet time...until the evening hit again. And I started looking deeper into Hebrew.

My dialogue to Him: Ok Father. IS THIS REALLY FOR ME? Why am I so arrested with the passage? What are You trying to say? Am I hearing things?

His dialogue to me: Breathe deep of Me. Keep reading.

Back to Him: Ok Father, but it seems like I'm totally taking this out of context. My professors would be so annoyed at me for ignoring all Biblical Hermeneutics rules.

So back I went to the passage. Hmmm, let's start from the beginning of the passage tonight...the Hebrew for "implore the compassion": lit. Chanan, meaning gracious, full of grace, it's the Hebrew word Hannah. Modern day equivalents are names Ann, Anita, Annetta, etc.

Needless to say, I started freaking out. I had been asking if this promise was for me. He took the time to write me name in the middle of it to say, "Indeed little one, this is a token of My Great Love for you in that I give you a covenant of things to come."

How I needed this pinpoint of light in this journey!

Beautiful One....

Recycle!

2008-09-01T11:39:00.001-07:00

recycle logo
Originally uploaded by TheTruthAboutMortgage.com.

Sometimes you watch things die.

For instance, the plant that's been on my parent's front porch for forever. It just recently took it's last gasp of chloryphyl and bit the dust...er, dirt. And now, it's a cracked plastic pot full-o' dry, vitamin-drained dirt. Not even bugs'll frequent it. The pot now inhabits the bottom of the garbage can, awaiting it's demise via the hands of the recycle folks...

Is that what happens when things die in my life? Do they sit and await recycling?

One thing I'm becoming more and more familiar with in this death sequence, is the sheer pain of it. Whether it's the death of a loved one or the death of a dream or death of an expectation or even death to yourself, your heart simply aches. And responding to this pain by dulling or numbing yourself only gives you a minute breather. The pain will find it's way to the surface. it's just a question of when or how. And when it does come. Wow. The sheer extreme of it.

Me? If you know me, you know I'm the "BRING IT ALL ON!" kinda' girl. Problematic in times like this. Seriously. Who can handle the pain of brokenness all at once?

Jesus cried blood.

And when I'm looking at it, talking with Him about it, I'm pretty close...which is pretty crazy really. I mean, I can't even deal with a little heart and life-break. Yet He dealt with the ultimate blow:

Separation from His Father.

Maybe that's why my pain's so poignent. I feel like we're separated. No matter how much I cry or scream or yell (and there's been plenty of it!), I feel like He's not there. I am thankful for the pain. I keep saying thank You for it. It helps me to understand Jesus a little more...to be like Him in His suffering (phil3)...to be intimate in those moments of understanding the slightest, most miniscule taste of what it was like for Him right before the cross. One thing that irks me about the whole thing is this: Jesus knew what to do. He knew He had to die and knew how to do it. I mean HE REALLY HAD THE MIND OF CHRIST. Me? I'm lost. Still trying to live out of the mind. Unsure of what next step to take. All the while I'm wanting my life to matter one moment while ready to simply go home and be with Him in the next. I find myself volleying prayers of: "Lord, just take me HOME" to "Ok. If I'm staying here, what do I do? I have to live a life of consequence..."

I recently went to a counselor friend for a session...thought I should get a few lessons on living OUTSIDE the desert. She had a bunch of good stuff to say, amidst the kids jumping on my back with sticky fingers from eating waffles. SIDENOTE: Seriously, I'm such a fan of my friends that have kids and can carry on deep conversations while a child screams of abuse at a brother bonking him on the head...SIDENOTE OVER. She said a lot of good stuff. I definitely recommend a counselor when you think you're going crazy. Oh. And if you think you're going crazy, you probably are not. Crazy people don't think they're crazy. So if you've never thought you're crazy, well....

One thing she said was I don't listen to my own voice. more on this later.

She also gave me 6 cd's of Charles Stanley's sermons on Brokenness. Turning the cd on in my car the next day, I heard that ol' southern preacher voice, reminiscent of driving to Chicago with my dad listening to his sermons as a wee little one. We'd always get to stop at Fannie May Candies when we went to Chicago...and I'd always get the little pink, peppermint meltaways. that was pre-chocolate addiction. Also, the peppermint meltaways were 1 of 2 things in the price range my dad would give us when we went into the store...we'd eat these and look across Lake Michigan with all it's smells...then we'd jump in the car and while fighting traffic on the Dan Ryan Expressway, Dad would flip on a cassette tape of Charles...

I turned on the cd my friend gave me and immediately smelled something a little minty and a little muddy. Meanwhile, as he preached I realized, Stanley must have really good spies on his payroll. I mean, he was preaching directly from the pages of my journal. Punk. I don't need anymore conviction. I'm already semi-pro status at condemnation. maybe I should start by working on that huh? That whole, "There is therefore no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" bit...I realized that conviction wasn't the end goal. As He spoke intimately to my heart, I realized I'm not alone in this. Whether they want to name it or not, everyone hits broken status.

It was a beautiful moment when Stanley named the space I inhabit: Brokenness. Somehow giving it a name helped me realize it too would have an end someday. I thought I was just slowly going crazy. (Some of you might still think this is the case! After all, I'm the girl that's had a steady prayer of "Lord, please eradicate the pride from my life...take it away never to return." i hear that's as bad as praying for patience.) But besides the naming of this space, he said this: "You may feel in your soul and emotions and spirit that He's not there. but you must know in your mind that He is, in fact, present in the midst of this." This confuses me. I understand the feeling of "where are YOU?!?" I have it almost every day, if not every moment of every day. I keep thinking of that cheesy poem that every mother had on a bookmark when I was a kid, "Footprints". Remember it? Something about footprints in the sand...and when we don't see footprints in the sand it's because He's carrying us. Bugger that. Not only do I not see footprints, but I don't feel Him carrying me either. Jesus really did have God abandon Him (some of you theologians might debate on this, but let me have a moment.). And here I am griping about the seeming lack of Him...so I keep saying a Thomas prayer of "I believe, help me beleive." And recetly, I've been able to go even farther, as I really do believe He's there...even though I can't see or feel Him Present or at work. And it's in those moments of believing He's there but not doing anything that I get mad. But anger is for another time...

After I realize He's there, sometimes I make myself realize (Actually, I think it's the Spirit in me) that it's all hinged on that whole love thing...

I was sitting the other night at my sister's...talking on the phone with pops. He said I needed to understand that God loves me no matter what...I remembered a friend of mine that fasted for 40 days. When I asked him what he learned from that time, he said, "Annetta, if I do nothing else in my life, He will still love me." My first reaction to him was, "That's it? 40 days without food and you're toting the punchline of a Billy Graham sermon?!? Dude. That sucks." But then, well, I realize, as always, that my first reaction is usually the shallow one. If I will just sit and think a minute, I'll realize my friend was saying way more than just John 3:16. Or was he? Really? All I have to do for the rest of my life is sit in His love? He'll still love me? Ok, ok. Those that are about to jump on soap boxes of obediance and needing to serve in His Kingdom; Those screaming something about works accompanying faith, well, BREATHE. I think he was right. If I do nothing else in my life, Jesus will still love me. The Father will still be on my team. His Spirit will still inhabit me. I will be healed. If I never teach another Bible study or lead worship...if I never have another conversation about Him, well, He will still love me. Plain and simple. He loves me. i don't have to do anthing. nothing. Nada. Zip. It's very difficult for me not to DO...I'm a doer. You evangelicals would say, I tend more towards Martha than Mary.

Wrap up? I want to go HOME to Him. But since He says stay, I should sit in His love.

He's got it under control far more than I ever would.

I just wish the recycle center would come take that ugly ol' pot...I'm ready for a new one.

Much love y'all...

Annetta

P.S. If you can't tell, my mind sits in Ecclesiastes a lot these days...go figure. And, I've spent a whole lotta' time with my Grandmother recently. She felt the need to delve into our whole family history so I'd never forget where I came from. A beautiful gift, to be sure. But a little melancholy as ghosts come out of closets and get a rightful hearing.

AHHH!!

2008-08-24T15:49:00.000-07:00

Do you ever feel like your world is crazy?!?

Picture an OCD energetic introvert travelling in a van with her whole family...

Maybe it's not just a feeling...

scottish-country-preppers...

2008-08-17T20:51:00.000-07:00

catch this...sis is getting hitched next weekend in 1000 Islands NY...he's wearing a kilt. there's square dancing at the reception. the whole shindig's at the Antique Boat Museum in Clayton...seriously. what a mix....

should be nuts!

The Calling is Higher Than Ourselves

2008-08-06T19:17:00.001-07:00

Sudan boy
Originally uploaded by nick rain images.

Since 1989, 2.5 million people have been killed in Southern Sudan while just over 5 Million Sudanese people have been displaced. A modern-day holocaust, a genocide ignored, people are just now starting to pay attention and DO something about the horrific attrocities in Southern Sudan.

Recently, a dear friend of mine published a life-changing novel, The Calling. A work 4 years in the making, The Calling changed my heart and perspective in the war for the souls of the Sudanese people. Prior to reading the book, I cared about the crazy things that were happening, but didn't really see my American self as able to initiate any changes. I also didn't understand what the conflict was all about. But because of the intoxicating pen of Elizabeth Hankins, I have not only become more aware of the story of these beautiful plum-black people, but I now have an understanding of my responsibility and ability in fighting for them.

One thing I can do is tell you about them. Endorsed by such names as Brian McClaren and Amnesty International, The Calling is an easy, addicting read that sucks you in from the moment you open the cover. Just a warning, but I had 2 late nights, lotsa' tears and much laughter in the consumption of it.

So...Buy it! Read it! Tell your friends about it!

One last thing. ALL proceeds of the book, outside of the cost to make the book, go directly to Aid Sudan, Living Water International and Amnesty International.

Happy Reading!

Fishing

2008-07-29T07:03:00.001-07:00

Fishing boat #2
Originally uploaded by slack12.

When you go fishing on a boat, you occasionally float over deep, dark places of a lake. If you peer closely over the side of the boat, you can see shadows lazily darting about..while you can't make out what the shadow is, the movement catches your eye...where I am right now, in this boat, I can see Him darting about under the surface...unlike the lazidaisical darting of the fish, His movement is full of grace. While I can't see what shape or form He's in, I know He's there under the surface. At any moment, I expect Him to emerge out of the shadows, bearing all my dreams into the light. I don't know how or why I know this with all my heart, but my heart finds it's hope in this and this alone. I believe there is so much stirring under the surface of the deep place...I can almost see Him at work...He is coming. I can see the ripples coming...and then will come the tsunami of His glorious working out of my salvation and His Story for this world with all of His grace and love pouring out....and according to His glorious riches....what a beautiful place to sit this morning...contemplating His great love.

I tell you all this because it is such a gift to me to be able to see it...and I believe my testifying in advance of what He is doing...acknowledging the faith walk I am on, brings Him greater glory...e.g., as He accomplishes this work in me, You are able to clearly see His working as He has foretold it to my heart.

Also, in the midst of this, my heart is fallible...anytime you care to pray for me, I ask 3 things: 1. That my prayer of "I believe...Help me believe!" is answered in the affirmative, 2. for clarity of the next step (although when He's moving it's impossible to miss it if you're trying in the least! and that 3. He comes through like a powerful force, stirring the foundations of the world to move and manifest these dreams of the deep places...

much love y'all...

A

The Promise Land is not Health-n-Wealth

2008-07-27T18:29:00.000-07:00

the desert. i've spent some time there. and i think most believers have spent some time there at some point in their lives.

what is curious to me is that you don't REALLY need to spend much time there if you're obedient. think about the Israelites...they only spent SO MUCH time there because they were disobedient and God disciplined them.

if then, the desert is a discipline, then why do we seem to place so much value on it? i submit, we value it because it is an icon of His grace in our lives...even though we mess up, He allows us to try again via the desert...

i also submit, fellowship with Him in the desert is sweet for the most part. but wouldn't fellowship in the Promised Land be just as sweet if we walked in with the same set of values and understanding of Him as we do in those intensely hard places?

ok, ok. i get it. most of us (i'm the chief of this!) aren't really clear minded the first time around. when everything's going well and "right"..i ofttimes don't have a real high 'get it' factor the first time around. but....

i have noticed, that when i've spent a lot of time with Him...when i'm riding really high on the face-to-face train, well, i'm a 'there's no time like the present to make the right decision with the right attitude' kinda' girl. i seem to really jones on these times too. it's like i can make a decision, almost any decision, and i make the automatic right decision. no question in my spirit, no hesitation. just goin' for the gold.

so what am i saying?

well. i can avoid the desert. i can bypass it altogether. i simply need to ask His Spirit to hold me on that narrow road in the times of plenty...we can follow Him just as intimately in the Promised Land...the hard part of intimate following in the Promised Land is desperate need for Him is less poignant. there's less of a gap between our perceived need and His Presence...we feel we've got things together so it's easier to rely on ourselves.

let's walk on out of the desert...let's let Him show the world how He blesses His children that are obedient...how He shows favor to those who walk in His ways...let's ask for eyes that notices the major discrepancy between our status and His Provision...and stay in the rhythm of His grace in the meanwhile....

let me know what you think!

p.s. this is SO not a health-n-wealth Gospel idea...it's simply a thought i've had for a while about His favor for those who follow hard after Him...and even as i say all of this, i look at the lives of some close to me and note that their Promised Lands of favor do not look advantageous to the world. yet interacting with His placement of me as a grace-filled place is what makes it appear the Promised Land to others...am i making sense?!?

p.s.2. note that i highly value the desert for the moments of "becoming like Him in His suffering"...sometimes our desert times are less discipline and more honing and testing...praise Him for His gracious refinement!

morning of joy!

2008-07-11T23:08:00.001-07:00

Good bye 2007 & Happy New year 2008
Originally uploaded by i b u.

looking back...i can see so many things i'd change. and so many things that i'd keep.

this year, i'm so thankful for a broken engagement...healing heart...renewed vision...His increased Presence...conviction...hard times...tears...laughter...heartache...faith-moves...falling on my face...hard moments....beautiful moments...no job...crazy job...scraping by...being taken care of...feeling like an adult...being treated like a child...understanding of what's happening 'neath the surface...coming back to Him...hearing Him...loving Him..being loved by Him.

we sow in tears...i'm still waiting for the crop to come in. but i believe it's coming. there's-a-somethin' stirring 'neath the surface and it's HIM! i'm so desiring His morning to dawn with the shouts of joy He promises...i'm still unsure what that looks like though...my personal plumbline seems to have shifted...

you know, Frodo (hobbit from Lord of the Rings), when asking how he was to return to Rivendell after his wild adventures, was told, "you can't ever go back to who you were. you're different now." this is how i feel...after the pain of this year, the way He stretched me and eradicated some pet sins, i don't think i can ever go back to who i was. i pray i DON'T ever go back to who i was. i want to be better. always, each day, better. because each day finds me more and more in His image.

what's stirring? only He knows for sure. but one thing i DO know: it's GOOD. as He is GOOD, it's GOOD.

beautiful huh?

giraffe poop, wrestling and the skin i'm in...

2008-05-27T15:29:00.001-07:00

Love The Skin You're In
Originally uploaded by ...*melissa*....

isn't it funny the things that show us who we are? moreso, the things that show us more of who He is?

this year has been a montage of craziness. since i left tallowood i have traveled through 20 some-odd states, lived in 6 different cities and held down a menagerie of jobs...the only thing that could top my list of job descriptions would be a garbage girl or working at a zoo...although i might actually have enjoyed giraffe and elephant dung more than some of the jobs i had!

several months ago i worked for a brief stint at a marketing company. many of you remember this with fondness because it was hysterical, watching me in a suit every day. Terri Richter, the co-owner of the company, would swing by my desk almost every day and we'd chat of Jesus...of His constant goodness in the midst of pain. of His sovereignty. of His deep, perfect, yearning love for us. one thing you must know of Terri is that in the midst of these conversations of the Lord's goodness, Terri's wife was battling brain cancer. Terri would just say that this cancer, this season, was "a gift" to their family. it brought a sweetness to their relationship with the Lord that they'd never have known otherwise...a sweetness born of faith in the unseen...

i'm feeling a little like jacob recently. we've wrestled, i've pushed and He's pulled me back...and in the end, i leave with a slight limp. i'm praying for my new name. i'm praying for a deeper place in His heart...for Him a deeper place in mine...to be sanctified a bit more in the middle of this. michelle, a friend from seminary days, recently emailed me: "God is oh-so-good in the wounding of His people." how true this is! His pain is used to rescue us from places we should not go! to remind us of His sovereignty! to draw us into those deep places of Him that we'd never have seen otherwise. what a beautiful gift He's given me! i'm so thankful for the way He's made me...for the plan He has for me...

now i'm praying that He'll break my heart for what breaks His...i've such a great need for a repentant heart and He's been allowing me to see so much of my sin in recent days...

what a beautiful year! wouldn't have planned in advance a minute of it, but what a beautiful year!

much love y'all....

His,

annetta

empty horizons

2008-05-02T18:29:00.001-07:00

reflections of love
Originally uploaded by Henri Bonell.

hey guys...

isn't it interesting what kinda' curves come on our life roads? recently, justin and i broke off our engagement. and without much warning or fanfare or escort, we were both facing a new life picture. i've been planning our life together for the last several months. now it seems that we're both with an empty horizon at our fingertips...we're allowed to paint whatever we wish. and as amazing as justin is, i wish him all the technicolor crayons in the world...

much love...

annetta

p.s. i'll be around a computer more now...living in a cornfield without internet in indiana for a while now, i've ignored y'all. so sorry.

Brick

2007-11-18T10:40:00.001-08:00

Yellow Brick Road.........
Originally uploaded by eaandian.

Do y'all remember watching The Wizard of Oz as kids? Then, the whole movie was magical and fun...I absolutely loved it! After not watching it for a good 10 years, I watched it again. This time, I started to understand why some parents thought it scary in places. Where some things had failed to register to me as a kid, as an adult these same things were crystal clear in their implications. I had the same reaction to the ol' school Willy Wonka movie...

One thing that I saw differently was the dirty yellow brick road...while it started out golden and gleaming, there were many a moments in the movie where the road appeared to be only a faded, dull brick. There were even times that the road became narrow and obscure. At the finale, of course, we remember that their long-awaited, far-traveled-for wizard turned out to be no more a wizard than the tinman.

While a child and even as a young adult, the road's been fairly clear for me. Most times, when a door opened, I would walk through it...a good opportunity translated in my brain as a right opportunity. But now I'm discovering this is not always the case.

Lately, many moments have reminded me I'm simply a blue-checkered dress girl with ruby slippers. I continue to walk this road...while a youngster, it seemed so much more gleaming and perfect and easy. It seemed clear. Now, there's still a road, but there are moments when I have to bend down and sweep away the dirt from the path to make sure I'm still on the right colored brick. An open door does not necessarily equate the right open door.

I'm learning to find that center of who I am...the core of what I'm supposed to do in life. After finding that, it's to this core, to that center, that I bounce all of these open doors. Sometimes these open doors bounce back and look like the antithesis of me. And then sometimes they bounce back as a mirror image of me...of Him in me.

I used to make decisions by praying for a set time, reading His Word, asking wise counsel, analyzing the situation and listening to the Spirit inside me. And now I still do these things. But His Spirit has shown me that it is not simply the obvious 'fix' that is the right thing. The normal and easy way usually ends up making it's way deeper and deeper into the wicked witch's forest until thought and sight of the yellow brick has been lost forever.

In the end of the movie Dorothy realized that the thing she had been searching for was really with her all the while. While she was searching such a great deal for a quick ticket home, she learned things that grew her into a woman. She could have gone home at any second, but the things that she learned on the arduous travel made her home-going a sweeter and richer experience. She now had the perspective to truly appreciate the smallest of things and relationships that she had at home.

Today I'm simply praying I have the eyes to see His yellow bricks for me....

Cassiopea & Comet Holmes

2007-11-03T18:35:00.000-07:00

Hello y'all!

And you just thought i was kidding about being back...i just thought i'd throw a controversial log on the fire...see what sparks may fly...

after eating dinner i was nose-glued to a magazine (i absolutely love cooking magazines around this time of year) when i realized i was alone in the house. being a social little bug, i strarted scrounging around for everyone...i found them all down the street, on the corner, staring at the sky. after hearing that they had just witnessed what they could only identify as an honest-to-goodness UFO, my skepticism of whatever else they might scream was a bit high.

BUT, i found they had a little validity. seems there's an astronomical anomaly going on under our very noses...or, rather, above our shaggy heads.

October brought us a visual of Comet Holmes.

an 1892 comet that's just become visual to the human eye.

it's kind of a big deal.

many amateur's and professionals are touting the star's newness...meaning brand-spankin'. and there's definitely controversy surrounding lil' Holmes (so named by it's 1982 founder). in all my amateur atronomer days (counting 1 thus far), i'm on the side that says it's new.

one funny 'coincidence' to the whole bit is the star appeared directly on the heels of a very controversial article. the article works to shake the theological feet of Bethlehem star believers. all to say, take a minute to glance at his thoughts (pick up the magazine or take a glance through his comments on the http://www.skyandtelescope.com/ website...check out the article on the new star and the article on Bethlehem's star).

better yet....take a walk on a clear evening and see this star that is growing in brightness (right below Cassiopea...think Serendipity... ;0)...breathe in a bit of fresh (or polluted as your case may be) air and realize we're in a God-given environment...

peace.

ignorance abounds...starting with me.

p.s. there's a fun little article about the star names, etc., on the Brock and Bodie Theone website: http://www.thoenebooks.com/blog.asp ...it's the article titled: WHAT WISE MEN SEE—2007 COMET IN PERSEUS...

Navigation

2007-11-03T15:11:00.001-07:00

Navigation
Originally uploaded by CutanBurn.

finding the right road for yourself is always a bit of a bugger. you look and look....you try new things...you listen to friends...you listen to your own heart...you listen to His heart...you read articles and research possibilities...you even try things out.

it's an elusive sucker this road. slippery like an eel. but moreso.

so what makes me know that i'm on the right road now?

well, call it insensitive, but part of me stops caring so much. i think, i'm here because of decisions i've made. i have to live with those decisions. and it's even more than that though. i'm so solidly convinced of His Sovereignty that i don't think i COULD go on the wrong road. i mean, yes, i could flirt with th idea. i could toy in my weaker, temptation, hands-on-the-ears-"i'm-not-listening" moments. but reality finds me knowing that my heart, given to Him once, and every day since, would cease to exist on the 'wrong' road.

and don't even get me started on whether or not there is a 'wrong' road...

I'm Ba-ACK!!!

2007-11-03T14:57:00.001-07:00

·!¦[·im bAck·]¦!·
Originally uploaded by {ஹ7ⓜD}....[M}-Coming Soon !!.

in more ways than one i might add.

for a few months now, i've sat down countless times and attempted to jot out a little blog. to spit out a little something that someone else would care to read. but my thoughts...well...they spun out kinda' crooked...in a funny jumble of a mess.

but.

somehow. as i sat down to the computer today, i thought, it's time. time to reclaim me in many ways.

if you care to continue a read on this-here blog...hold on to your hats.

the next few days promise to be full.

much love.

A

suffering

2007-10-09T07:48:00.001-07:00

i've been thinking about suffering lately. it's funny how many articles can be found on it....there's so much of it in the world. it's looming and pervading presence always demands an audience. and it's also interesting to note that suffering has no prejudice or party affiliation. it's not bound by social class. and it's definitely not bound by race or ethnicity.

everyone who lives and breathes is promised suffering at some level.

so why do we shirk from it? or have knee jerk reaction towards God when it comes? isn't it a beautiful thing? isn't it what allows such direct and pure lines of communications with Him?

i was thinking about these times in my life that have been so hard. those times that i spend weeping on my knees. at the time, they seemed almost unbearable. but it was that desperation that lead me to really, trully sucking Him in instead of anything else. if you stop and listen, anyone's intelligent enough to realize that suffering in and of itself is not worthwhile. but it is the whatever happens that brings Him closer that is worthwhile and that our hearts silently crave. in and of itself, keep suffering away. but i want Him so badly to be more in me, that i'll take whatever He determines will bring me closer to Him.

after all, He's worth everything isn't He?

so. Father, don't bring the suffering. BUT bring Yourself Lord...and if suffering is part of that, then You'll make me ok with that...because i love You more than life itself...help me to love You more.

fully alive

2007-09-29T17:28:00.000-07:00

i'm sitting in Fort Worth, Texas at my cousin's house...they're grillin' steaks for dinner outside. i got to have a conversation with my favorite person in the world last night and more with some of my favorite today. the weather's been amazing...as i sat through my lil' cousin's baseball game this morning, with the wind blowing oh-so-gently and the sun barely peaking through the fluffiness...it seems all the good things in life can be assessed in these moments. i'm surrounded by good people and good food and good weather and good health and good...just good times.

recently, it seems that everything i've ever wanted has been dropped in my lap. yet even amidst the amazing goodness that my Father is showering down upon me, the one desire of my heart remains constant: to sit with Him.

all the amazing moments in the world mean nothing compared with those times with Him.

so as i start to make some pretty 'life-changin' decisions in the next few weeks, i'm confident that the one thing that i NEED in life will remain. and that one thing, at risk of sounding repetitive, is Him. amidst the sorrowful moments, He seems to grow sweeter...and now amidst the milk-n-honey, He makes my heart constantly sing in a song of gratefullness...my soul has been awakened by the One who can trully love...

OH! how i love Him...awaken my heart even more to sing of You...and then i am fully alive...

living,

annetta

testosterone versus estrogen...

2007-09-09T16:38:00.000-07:00

oh my. that's what i think when i put a guy and a girl together. until recently, i'd only heard of the many communication issues that arise when a guy and girl talk. i.e., how a girl says one thing and the guy says completely another. in fact, i never thought i'd fall prey to these beautiful little idiosyncrasies. but, fall i did.

and quite soundly i might add.

but one of the things that stands out so clearly in this latest mishap of a communication blunder is how differently He created us to be.

He created the guys to take on so much of the Adam persona...and girls the Eve.

i've decided i'm gonna take a deeper look into this. if, after all, we girls are supposed to look a little like eve, being somewhat fashioned after her, then shouldn't we understand her? after all, she was the first to fall to the blame game...

the communication blunder i witnessed this past week went something like this:

Boy: you're mad at me? why are you mad at me? don't be mad at me!

Girl: well, i didn't want you to think i was pressuring when i said such and such after you were the one originating the topic! and i felt like you DID feel pressured. but, after all, it was YOU that started the whole topic of conversation. seriously.

Boy: actually, i thought you were talking about something completely different. i totally didn't realize you were saying that. huh.

Girl: yes i was saying that! how could you not have seen? it was so plain?

Boy: but this other way of looking at it was plain to me...

all grow'd up

2007-09-03T23:16:00.001-07:00

air hair
Originally uploaded by Megan Troyer.

i'm a grownup.

i don't know when it happened. but i'm totally a bonified, grade-A, card carrying, decision-making adult. weird really. i've had the peter pan mentality my whole life. you know, that 'i-still-climb-trees-and-i'll-never-grow-up!' vibe.

when i first stepped into this 'leap-o-faith' thing, i thought jumpin' head first meant that i could swim for a while afterwards. I mean, i LOVE swimming. silly rabbit me. jumping once really just means that each day i get to jump into an even deeper pool off of an even deeper high dive.

seems like even more of an adventure really. my emotional little adolescent self spent time crying on the high dive...waiting for Dad to coax me off. but this new adult mischeviously winks at Him, takes a deep breath and cries, "CANNONBALL!!!"

now, you have to realize, my fear is not dissipated. Oh yeah, it's still there. but there's also this really cool, leveling trust that stays deep in the pit of my stomache. even when unexpected news comes, i'm still grounded. and i'm really jonesin' on it. there's none of that adolescent desperation that comes from not KNOWING the jump's ok.

there's something funny about having been in the depths before. when you reach them again, they're not near as scary. and as i continue this funny little faith walk, it doesn't seem as scary right now either...

so today, i'm choosing to climb a tree, *wink*....right before i jump.

annetta

p.s. whenever you think of me, shoot up a prayer for this faith (and wisdom!)...a gift that's in high demand and short supply sometimes...

p.s.2. especially pray as whenever one claims to be doing fantastically well at this faith walk thing, well, it's like putting a bullseye on the forehead while shooting off flares and screaming into a bullhorn, "Easy Target!!!"...ahh...humility is still something i struggle with...

still abstract

2007-08-25T07:43:00.001-07:00

Elephant on a Wall
Originally uploaded by MsAnthea "Anthéaïs".

good morning! or good evening or good day as it may be in your world....

isn't it funny how life is all relative to someone's perspective? now don't get me wrong and think i've turned into some postmodern relativist who thinks there are no absolutes. but it's funny how if you look at something from a different angle than someone else, it can seem to be a completely different object. huh. makes me think of that ol' story about the blind men and the elephant (i'm gonna' botch this one!)...they each grabbed hold of a different part of the elephant....one grabbed the trunk, one the leg, one the tusk...and they each thought it a different entity. respectively, one thought it a snake, one a tree, one a sword. in a lot of ways, understanding the truth behind life relies on one having the correct perspective.

in so many ways He renewed and 'set aright' my perspective on life when i was in Estes. while many of you may find my reference to my time there quite wearying, please bear with me. i'm still kinda' 'getting' what all He spoke to me there.

while in Estes, i started to get that life really is to be lived out as a fantastically powerful creature filled with Him. there is no letting go of that identity. and the more i live out of that the better.

but i find myself slacking in the identity department...to such a degree that for a moment i lack vision and faith, and start calling what place i'm currently in a snake or a tree or a sword...

6 months down now. and still lacking so many of the tangible things we call 'necessary' for 'normal' life. but i realize that 'normal' is all a matter of perspective...and that all my needs are met in Him.

praying that my heart echoes even louder today, 'i have no need, no good, apart from You my sweet Jesus'...

honestly? it's past the point of good humor

2007-08-09T07:44:00.001-07:00

you know, there's this point where patience wears out. it no longer speaks for you. it no longer responds gracefully. it no longer bides my time. it no longer gives moments of peace in the midst of chaos. it no longer provides support and home simply by it's presence.

when this patience wears out i'm left confused, wondering.

this week, i've felt a little like an orphan. i hate even saying the word orphan in respect to myself. it makes me feel ungrateful. after all, i am not without a superior set of 'rents. and i've a perfect Father in heaven to boot. but, there's something about a family...they're supposed to provide a solid compass. problem is, while my Father has been speaking so many abstract things to me, there is NO concrete stuff to be heard. hard to have a solid compass when all you hear is ethereal. and one of the worst things (to me) is His quiet. He has a plan for my life. yet He shares it not. this lack of sharing on His part leaves me biting my tongue from calling Him 'stingy'....

i'm tired of the intangible. 6 months now. intangible faith. my faith well's run on empty for some time...He's just been giving me the daily requirement. but, bottoms up and there's not a drop today. i mean, i've faith that i'll have food and drink. i'll have a place to lay this ol' noggin. but, those heart things...those dreams. those communal needs. those desires for living a life greater than me....seem to sift out of that cup like dust left after all moisture's evaporated.

all walking done today is done with no sense of emotionalism. there's no 'good feelings' cheering me on to greater heights. rather, my sustaining factor is simply grit. grit and a little whisper. on second thought, it's probably moreso the little whisper...if you're living the grit whisper, rock on. let's bond.

but amidst it all...i'm still solidly planted in His plan for me. i just wish He'd share the next step with me...walking. listening. and finding myself a little gripey...

but still so enchanted by Him that i can't let go...

ESTES PARK PRE-RELEASE!!!

2007-08-02T19:22:00.000-07:00

YEAH! the time has come for a pre-release party for the cd!

a sigh of relief! so. if you are in the Houston area, you've simply GOT TO come by and take a listen...and bring your friends!

Tallowood Baptist Church.

North Campus.

22 August 2007.

7:30pm.

Give me a holler if you have any questions!!! can't wait!!!

a moment...

2007-07-27T22:40:00.001-07:00

HPIM0739
Originally uploaded by markva2.

recently, i went on a run in virginia beach, va. a great run. the kind of run where i weep in the middle of a particularly speedy stretch; not because i'm in pain, but because my soul is poignantly touched with the beauty of Him, and i've no way to adaquately express my love.

my run was not at the beach. it was just to a neighborhood near the apartment i was staying at...beautiful view (this pic is of the park). the name of the park is : mount trashmore. sounds like a funny name huh? well, the really funny part is it's not just a name. the park is really an old trash dumpground renovated into a beautiful community park. it started me thinking...

He can make something out of nothing...in fact, He quite often takes our bruise, depraved selves and turns them into royalty. He takes this 'ugly wart frog' and turns me into a pretty, pretty princess. He took a ball of dirt and made Adam. He daily takes my failings and turns them into a tapestry that glorifies Him. our Father is breathtaking. i can't get enough of Him these days...He's made my heart to constantly want Him. i find He's more than enough. my soul's alive dear friends! love and miss all of you! praying for so many of you by name this evening and all of you by His Spirit...

annetta

p.s.
wow. it's been awhile. a disclaimer, i've been on a 4 week road trip...i'll find myself settled in a home soon...pray for direction~!

Road Trip

2007-07-06T09:09:00.001-07:00

Road Trip
Originally uploaded by More Altitude.

ok. so many of you know of M6, a mission trip i took with TWood last summer. well, a friend and i are about to embark on a 3 week version of that...and we think it's gonna go right down the east coast.

we're starting with a night with friends in BHam, AL, then to see my sis in NYC...she's working for the Philharmonic and is gonna hire us for a few days. then i have cousins in Providence RI (45 minutes from Boston) and my friend's mom is moving from Virginia Beach...and i'm singing in a wedding (ADRIENNE!) in Charleston SC at the end of the month...

those are the loose plans. but my friend (Sandrine) and i are holding them loosely in our hands. i can't WAIT to see where He takes us...and we're preparing this week for the crazy journey starting Thursday...incidentally, that's the day after my 28th bday...what a coming of age trip eh?!?

anywho.. any prayers are coveted. we're listening and i pray this is lifechanging..for us as well as many others!

p.s. the album should be done right about the time we get back...wahoo!

go red

2007-07-06T09:04:00.001-07:00

red&black
Originally uploaded by Teng...11.

it's raining outside.

there's always been something about rain...makes me think.

this week, i've been contemplating growing up. i guess it's normal to contemplate that as i was at a family reunion right outside the city of Crown Point...the city i spent the first 12 years of my life in. i saw the lady that used to babysit me, my childhood bff and the younger kid next door who's now grown and owns his own business. the whole time i talked with the lady who babysat me, she just kept saying, "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! YOU'RE SO HUGE!".

it made me feel like i'm either pudgy or just really grown up.

so growing up. for awhile now that little rebellious streak of mine has been directed towards anything that scents of legalism. if someone said that wearing red is the only thing holy, i would throw out all shirts with the slightest hue of red and wear only black. i mean, who can dictate God's color preferences?!? and who's to say that red really is my color anyway? who's to say that i'm not a GREEN kinda' girl...

ok ok. i get it that my rebellious response is not only childish, but it's tacky. but the thing that really struck home in my heart was as i was thinking about Romans 12:2A,

"Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind..."

i've been working on that whole conformed thing for a while...and thought i was working on the transformed thing. but as i look at Him, i think, it's not that wearing anything but red is necessarily wrong, it's just that wearing red is the BEST thing...it's the way He created me to live. and it's not even about a normal life that's really good and looks great alongside the next nonChristian's life. rather, the transformed life is so amazingly removed, that non Christians recognize it as the way they ache to live.

let me try saying this again...it's not the color red. it's not that legalistic people are always right...it's just that, they're usually onto something...they are usually sensing out a few guidelines that make this a life lived best.

the black and blue wearers of the world know that red is really their color. and it's really my color. i just don't tell those wearing blue that blue doesn't become them... :)

so. i'm pushing ahead today. not to 'not wear black' but to wear red in such a way that all will know that He is indeed alive.

grace and peace,

annetta

Extraordinarily Ordinary

2007-06-27T23:34:00.001-07:00

Journey
Originally uploaded by dopiaza.

it really IS all about the journey.

lately, i've been head-over-heels involved in a project. and not a project that needs just a little "tweaking" as Tom Hanks so eloquently says to Meg Ryan in my favorite movie. rather, this project is crazy involved. and it's a 'jump-off-the-diving-board-into-the-deepend' kinda' involved. except, that jump also involves jumping without knowing if there's water first.

i'd always thought moments of faith were preceeded by flashes of light and booming "james earl jones" voices. but my experience says, that it's a lack thereof.

no voice. no lightning. no big talking-picture story.

it's as if you're in a really windy place, and for a moment, the wind dies down. and there's that eerie silence. although not so eerie. and not so silent unless i make room for that silence.

doesn't make sense huh?

let me try again. faith is...

ordinary. everyday. constantly. moment-by-moment. in the dull. in the humdrum.

in my unfallen, blood-of-Christ-covered state, it's natural. all-the-while, it's supernatural.

in the end...it's...well, it's glorious. all-the-while, it seems, normal.

here's to a life lived as purposed...in a perpetual, ordinary, extraordinary freefall.

Glorious Waiting Room

2007-06-16T08:31:00.001-07:00

Glorious Rising
Originally uploaded by Ms Ladyred.

waiting. a gloriously divine activity. frustrating. drives me crazy. but gloriously divine. it's not coincidence that in my current divine waiting room, sunsets have become a moment where my soul rests. i think they're His waiting room for me. anticipation has always been such a fun part of an event for me. and now...in the silence. i think waiting is a divine activity. not only do i happen to be in waiting periods quite frequently, but they always seem to be divinely appointed. maybe i'm not picking up what i'm supposed to be learning eh?

but. in this waiting, there is always one of two things for me.

either He speaks much and i am filled to overflowing.
or
He speaks little...

and i'm left to walk in the dark, holding onto the hope He has promised and the vision He has originated and ordained.

today, i was a bit woebegone, mourning the loss of His voice in my life...and my realization that His Voice was so silent was only after the activity in my life became still...my activity...and i can't see His activity at present. but i believe it is goin nuts under the surface. His plans are glorious and moving...in my 'woebegone' sate, i read these quotes:

The answer to our prayer may be coming, although we may not discern
its approach. a seed that is underground during winter, although
hidden and seemingly dead and lost, is nevertheless taking root for a
later spring and harvest. - bickersteth

delayed answers to prayer are not only trials of faith, they also give
us opportunities to honor God through our steadfast confidence in Him
even when facing the apparent denial of our request. - spurgeon

oh me of little faith! that i would see the invisible...for when He SEEMS still, He's moving quite quickly. His timing is perfect. and He is really good at growing the roots of a plant before letting it jump forth from the ground. this waiting is not unique to me...seems as if everyone lives in it. doesn't make it easier to realize it's a communal, silent waiting room. not much fellowship goin on there. BUT...it does allow me to borrow prayers...here's one from Shane B:

i will run when i cannot walk
i will sing when there is no song
i will pray when there is no prayer
i will listen when i cannot hear

sitting in the waiting room of silence
waiting for that still soft voice i know
offering my words up to the rooftop to Your heart
trusting that this closet's where You are

Lord i know if i change my mind
You will change my heart in time
Sovereign Lord this time's from You
so i sit in the waiting room of silence
cause its all about You

i will fight when i cannot feel
i will trust when You don't seem real
i will tell when i cannot speak
i will step when i cannot see

even the waiting is glorious when done at rest.

love y'all. praying His Presence in your life today...esp for those prepping camp twood. missin ya this year...but have you lifted up in His hand!

crash-n-burn

2007-06-08T10:50:00.000-07:00

it's been really weird this past week. life was so crazy and non-stop and all-consuming.

and now. well, now i'm back to waiting.

weird how these days go by much slower than the more active ones. but He has provided ways for me to have space to sit and think on Him. to listen. that's been pretty amazing. the way He carves moments out when i think there are none to be had.

i had a great talk with my dad. and one thing that became poignantly clear was my loneliness. it's funny, but as i walk through this newest adventure, the only person 'on the line' is me. i'm the only one that the death of this vision, the crash-n-burn, of this will effect. thus, it's a lonely space i fill. i walk and move and breath and obey what and where i think He's leading. but at the same time, there's no one else in the hot spot with me. it surely purifies motives. and it surely pushes me to Him as nothing else.

but it's still lonely.

seems i'm the only one out here. and that's ok today. because i look and listen and realize that He's right there with me...speaking His love for me.

so i walk in His love today. i walk in hope. and faith.
knowing that green pastures are coming...where i'll live in beautiful, messy community.

praying His new home for me will come soon,

annetta

hiatus

2007-05-19T09:26:00.001-07:00

Touch the sky
Originally uploaded by s0ulsurfing.

hey all!

i know i've been a little random in my postings as of late...if you want to subscribe to my blog, where you don't have to keep checking and rechecking, send your email address to me at: annettabox@gmail.com i'll include you on this little notifier thing...OR simply enter your email address in the subscription box to your right...not sure if that worx, but we'll find out eh?

thanks for keepin up with it...

a

what did i learn in estes?

2007-05-18T22:20:00.000-07:00

"how was it? what'd you learn"

my first week back, i was stopping for a few nights in dallas. hanging out one night with a crew of folks...all from various parts of my past. amazing to see each of them as they all hold amazing stories of God's goodness in my life...and they posed this question to me. i struggled with words...not really sure how to answer that. still in a little bit of process mode.

that night, i was the life of the party. and not because i WAS the life of the party, but because i felt like i HAD to be. it had been part of the 'pre-Estes' identity of annetta. and now, here i was, acting the part. it was expected. and i am pretty stinkin' funny when i need to be...or so i tell myself. that night, i was 'on'...and you know what? it was really annoying. by the end of the evening, it was if i was walking in culture shock. i was in a massive crowd of people, hanging with these wonderful friends, and my soul craved silence. i was ready to jump out of my skin at the chance to leave.

i become morose,
introverted, painfully so.
weird for me huh?

but it's true. i've become something of an introvert, and part of me doesn't know what to do with that. it's been a long time coming...this whole seclusion thing. i needed it. it's funny, i really get Paul's words in 2 corinthians 5:13, "For if we are beside ourselves, it is for God; if we are of sound mind, it is for you." when i am with Him, i AM beside myself...and when i'm with others, it's as if He has to draw me back to reality in order to interact.

but you know what? more than anything? i miss Him tonight. i miss His really close, 'closer-than-anyone-else-in-the-world' Presence that estes taught me. it was as if, as i stepped out into that beautiful world outside my door, nature screamed of Him. my heart learned the heartbeat of that scream. and just joined right along with the rest of creation. for a month i was given a glorious place of simply joining in with the song of His praise. i learned His rhythm...or was starting to learn the very beginning of it. the groans of creation...waiting for Him. i know any moments of ache right now have only to do with distance from my Father. SO: "how was it? what did i learn in estes?"

He trully is enough.

for anything. for everything. for the smallest things. for the biggest things. for the mundane. for the grand. for the in-between.

i look at these black words i'm typing and can't help but think they seem so empty. so rigid. so simple. and it is. simple. yet it's also terribly complex. in black and white it seems so empty, plain. normal. but it was the farthest thing from that...it was glorious. and beautiful and life altering. and supernatural. and vibrant. and colorful. and heart-rendering. and joyful. and awe-full. and

no words.

now only tears.

oh my God, how i miss Thee! return to me in all Your fullness...withdraw not from my heart...i can't make it. Lord, i'm not being dramatic. no over-emotionalizing here. only raw truth, from a raw heart. a heart yearning for THE Truth. i can't live life like i did before...with Your Presence only 'some' of the time...with sensing You are there only first thing in the morning...and random moments...i need that constant communion. i'm rubbish without it. nothing Lord. at moments i'm as frantic as David, "cast me not from Your Presence o Lord!"

Father, even these words seem empty as they are clinging to One so much greater.

simply said, i have tasted and you are better. i am ruined for anything, anyone but You.

return my Lord. i cannot live a moment...haste my Lord! i yearn.

You are so beautiful.

desert travels

2007-05-09T11:59:00.001-07:00

In the desert
Originally uploaded by Miss Aniela.

'i won't leave the desert unless You go with me!'

i can just hear Moses sayin' this too...heart beating super-sonic speed...palms sweaty...after all, he was talking to the GOD OF THE UNIVERSE. making demands of God. a little bit of a scary place to be if you ask me!

but i do make demands. big demands. and much the same demands as Moses.

a while back, at Rocky Mountain Church, pastor Jess spoke on prayer...making demands of God. my first thought was the story in Luke of the poor woman to the mean, ol' ruler. she begged and begged and begged him for something until he relented. i can just hear his speech in modern day,

"woman! you're drivin' me crazy! take whatever you want...only LEAVE ME BE!"

but this isn't really where i generally fall in my beggin prayers with the Lord. i'm not always on the up-n-up when i beg for something...it's generally something that i momentarily believe i can't live without. but it's odd how hindsight always leave me thinking, 'what was i thinking?!?!'

so i was thinking about this Moses prayer of 'don't let me leave without YOU!'.

i've been praying that same prayer for several years now. but i'm starting to think that my prayer has GOT to be altered...

1st off, it's not about Him following me...it's about me following Him. now don't get me wrong, all these years i think my motives have attempted to be right. whether they are right or not remains to be seen...

but my whole perspective is changing...instead of saying,

"go with me! these dreams won't leave me alone, and i'm not leaving without You! i'm stompin my foot down in a good ol' tantrum!"

funny, that prayer of Moses...i turned it upside down in my head. for me, leaving the desert is about fulfilling long-awaited dreams.

and He wants me to fulfill these dreams as much as i do. i think the dreams are my agenda. in reality, it is He that is my agenda. nothing else. yet, He has originated these dreams to fulfill His purpose for me in this life. it's funny that i make this demand as if He's not gonna' be there. i can so see Him laughing at me. here i am, so stressed out about Him going with me. when all the time, His Presence was never the question.

mine was.

a few weeks ago, God simply said 'stop.'

"Annetta, if you're following Me, then I'll be with you. the desires in your heart...you think they're from you. actually, they're My desires for you. follow me. My will will be fulfilled through you."

i'm now saying,

"i get it. You're head-over-heels for me. these dreams are as much (if not more) Your concern than they are mine. so....where are You going? You do know that i'm head-over-heels for You too don't You? that means, wherever You go, well, i go. Your way."

and i think He's saying back..."follow My heartbeat."

so i am. pursuing all of Him that i know. listening so close. loving Him more dearly every day.

the Great Romance is mine.

and i am His.

i'm stoppin' the stressin'.

i'm simply following.

i think i'm leavin' the desert.

and my heart is taken.

grey brilliance

2007-05-01T12:08:00.001-07:00

lake estes
Originally uploaded by abox.

it's raining today.

my last day in Estes Park. and there's a steady drizzle outside....

so. i took a walk around the lake. and i am, once again, blown away with the view of His creation...as the mountains peek in and out of clouds, it dawned on me.

grey.

we live in a world of grey. We live all our lives among shadows and broken things.

this is a bit funny to me...grey has been my favorite color for a while now. i'm offtimes afraid to admit it for fear of being labeled morbid or lackluster. but all the same, grey it is.

why grey?

and how, you ask, can i look at these majestic mountains and say, "grey"? i mean, they're fantastically beautiful. they're winsome in their calling us to worship. am i not really appreciating them for their true beauty?

i see them as grey because i'm comparing them to their eternal reality.

think about it:

heaven = Technicolor

thus, we're grey.

looking at the recent events in Virginia, it's easy to label this a big, bad world. some of you might even say that the world is BLACK. but even amidst the pain and strife and and dark, there is a hint of redemption present.

sorrows are mourned.
pain endured.
lives strengthened. all in view of the cross.

the cross is our connection to eternity.

please don't think i'm making light of the recent events. rather, i'm broken for them and for us and for our world. but even as i look at the world and want to label it all 'bad', i realize that it is bad. it is evil. but it is also in the midst of a battle of good and evil. their is white, purity present. the lives of the saints are the light of the world. but as the world is full of dark and light souls....the mottled result is: grey.

our hope is....

as eternity echoes in today, the grey starts to glow....it's as if it picks up little traces of what is to come, and the grey of today becomes brilliant.

yes. it's still grey.

but there's a brilliance...a touch of the eternal in the present.

live life seeing the brilliance of grey in the everyday.

a rose by any other name...

2007-04-30T10:00:00.000-07:00

no. i'm not trying to say i'm on the same level as shakespeare.

a name...what IS in a name? i look at my sister's names and think, "Betsie. Corrie. Ten Boom. pretty noble heritage." i take a look at the meaning of mine, "full of grace" and realize, i am exactly as i've been labelled.

but there's so much more to our identity than our simple naming.

i've read several things lately on this...
one of these is a book, Circle of Quiet by Madeliene L'Engle...amazing woman. amazing book. if i wasn't so set on being the best annetta He created me to be, well, i would simply want to be the next great Madeleine. she speaks of our identities...of the things that happen in life to negatively create an aura of our identitites that just isn't true! we believe so much about how people interact with us, about things we see others doing...we see and hear and internalize all the different messages and come up with a distorted view of who we are created to be.

in Velvet Elvis, Rob Bell says,

"I was making lists of all the people I was working to keep happy. My therapists said it was clear that there were significant numbers of people I was spending a significant amount of time working to please and that my issue was a simple one.

I was anticipating something quite profound and enlightening as I got out my pen.

He said this: 'sin.'

And then he said, in what has become a pivotal moment in my journey, 'Your job is the relentless pursuit of who God has made you to be. And anything else you do is sin and you need to repent of it.'

wow.

i'm here.

praying He stops nothing short of working out His created purpose in my life today...

being the best created annetta i can be,

annetta

powerful creation

2007-04-20T23:18:00.001-07:00

Garden of Eden
Originally uploaded by daphneyb.

muck.
ugliness.
envy.
anger… fear.

i get so bogged down in my sin. the muck overwhelms me. and all i can see is my dirt.

i've been this way for a while, i am so good at identifying the ugly parts of me. and i live in that self-identity.

so sad. honestly.
He has created me.

thus, i am created to be a beautiful, wonderful human being.

a glorious creation unlike any other.

reading through the Gospels, Jesus often seemed a little exasperated with the disciples. i mean, who wouldn't be? as a rabbi, Jesus had called them to follow and learn from Him. if you look back through rabbinical codes, etc., it's clear that a rabbi doesn't invite an oaf of an individual to follow him.

a rabbi weighs and judges the abilities of the individual first. upon seeing the person is capable of following him, he invites the individual follow him. when Jesus was frustrated with the disciples, it was not because he was thinking,
"wow. how'd I get stuck with these bozo's?!"
rather, he was frustrated with them because He knew He had created them with every ability to accomplish the tasks at hand.

He knew they could follow Him...they just kept getting bogged down in 'stuff'.

maybe Peter kept thinking, "oh gosh. i screwed up last time...can't screw up this time...better not say the wrong things..." and in his overanalyzing, hyper-sensitivity, ultra-stressed state, he missed the point. and screwed up.

i think we call that self-fulfilling prophecy.

Rob Bell enlightens Jesus' relationship with the disciples for me in Velvet Elvis. Jesus didn't leave the disciples with the Great Commission because He felt they couldn't do it. rather, He left the disciples with the Great Commission because He knew they could do it.

granted, they also got the Holy Spirit as a little parting gift.

still, Jesus was frustrated with them because He knew they had such great abilities and potential and they simply weren't living up to that potential. and Jesus knew a thing or two about their potential. after all, He was there when they were created.

He knew what they were capable of.

and He thought they were capable of much, much more.

i've had Marianne Williamson's words in my head since i got to Estes:

Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, handsome, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us. It is not just in some; it is in everyone. And, as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

ok. don't get me wrong. i self-help mumbo-jumbo as much as anyone. but i don't think recognizing our God given purpose and created ability is self-help talk. i think comprehending that God created me with much more power and beauty than i give Him credit for is actually discrediting His creation...it's failing to give glory.

it's failing to allow the glorious, created version of me to exist.

but i am slowly becoming that woman...

i remember reading C.S. Lewis's depiction of Adam and Eve in his sci-fi book Pereleandra. Lewis's Adam wasn't a wimpy, burdened-down-with-his-depravity sort of creature. rather, he was beautiful in his terrible awesomeness. the gloriousness of his created being was manifested for all to drink in. and the lady that represented Eve? how could i fail to mention her?!? she was the embodiment of all that is gracious and lovely and beautiful. she had such a pure heart of trust with the Lord. yet a strength about her that was evident in the very way she walked.

she was the epitome of grace and beauty.
of the mighty, yet gentle and quiet spirit.

beautiful inside and out.

how do i become that same 'eve' i was created to be? sure. i still have areas of muck to be waded through and cleared out. BUT, i am increasingly freed from this curse as i embrace the fullness of His grace. is there a terribly, awesome, glorious Annetta that awaits only my standing up and becoming? is it an issue of simply becoming me? is it an ontological issue, an issue of simply being who i am? meanwhile, am i falling short of my created purpose?

i oftimes live as if someone has sliced a little into my Achilles heel. i live as if i'm crippled a little...in all honesty, i think most of the time my Father is saying,

"stand up My child! I've created you for far greater than this...you are falling short only because you choose to fall short, and not because i created you a little 'less' than perceived potential. live out My purpose for you today!"

so today.

i am relentlessly pursuing the created Annetta. not in a 'self-actualized' kinda' way. but in a "i'm a daughter of the King, created with specific and magnificent abilities to love Him" kinda' way...

i'm living out my true identity...

magnifico! that He has created me! and that He spent time on me, just as He did the brilliant, majestic, terrible, beautiful mountains that surround...i am humbled as i reach for the higher heights He has created me for...let's reach together.

not to be better than one another.
but to be a better me. let's be who we were created to friends!

and let's change the world.

a sinus infectionated epiphany

2007-04-16T13:24:00.000-07:00

first off...can 'infectionated' really be a real word?

it all starts with my walk to the library today. to check email. post, etc., i use the great city library of Estes Park. fun. as i trek from my house the view is gorgeous and the thoughts are always abundant.

i was thinking back to my first few weeks at Estes...i remember scrambling to try and figure out something to write...i knew i had a whole lotta' stuff happenin in the ol' 'hopper', but didn't really have words for anything yet. so...i didn't post much. and what i did post oftimes was only comprehensive for yours trully.

and now...well...i could write for days on all the things that seem to be nicely fittin' together.

my thought as i was walking was this: it's like a sinus infection....my head was so stuffed up with all kinds of stuff. then the Word came along like a perfect prescription drug....and slowly but surely, the crazy stuff has drained out of my head and left...well, hopefully left only good stuff.

nothing groundbreaking here.

just a humourous thought on mucuos (sp?) to alienate the average reader.
(sorry shirley!)

love y'all....

start my trek homeward presently.

so much...

the last of the trilogy....fear v. love

2007-04-14T14:52:00.000-07:00

it was 2am. i was losing in a battle against a sinus infection, had a total of 17 hours of sleep in the last 4 nights, and had a 10 hour drive in store for myself the next day.

yet...

i was sitting in a hotel lobby chatting with a friend about weaknesses...his weakness?

he responded:

"a fear of man."

(i think for a moment before responding)

"What? what's 'fear of man'?"

i mean let's think about it: are we really 'afraid' of the guy sitting next to us? do i really flinch when someone walks by because i think he'll cause me pain?

while my friend never really explained his fear simply enough for this simple brain, i've been thinking about his comments ever since that evening several months ago...

have you read C.S. Lewis' space trilogy? me neither. but i did recently read the 2nd in the series, "Perelandra". The lead character, Ransom, fears the 'un-man' character in the story...why? because this particular 'un-man' is actually a human body inhabited by satan. makes ya wanna go check out the gruesomeness now doesn't it?!?

even as i read the story, i was a little creeped out by the 'un-man'. there's something unnerving when even considering a human body is inhabited by satan.

towards the end of the book, Ransom had to actually fight the 'un-man' in hand-to-hand combat. prior to the fight, the thought of touching the 'un-man', much less fighting him, totally freaked Ransom out. but, once he started fighting the 'un-man', he found that the creature was really not something to be so paralyzingly scared of.

my whole point is not to eek you out or to get you to swear of of any future possibility of reading the trilogy.

rather...my thought on fear is: confront it. sounds simple eh? a textbook answer even. but, once we confront it, it's not near as scary.

occasionally, i freak out about a boogey man in the closet. crazy. but i really do. and when this happens, i have 1 of 2 choices: freak out and lay there til morning, or check out the closet, all the while quoting Joshua 1:9. i sleep much better when i go ahead and shuffle a few hangers about checking for traces of slimy monsters.

knowing that He loves me, i face the fears. He'll take care of me.

Fear V. Love...Round 2.

2007-04-12T17:03:00.000-07:00

i find myself really 'getting' Peter these days...

i totally get his denial of Christ following the crowing in the garden...sad that i 'get' him huh? but, if you think about it, i mean, Peter really loved Jesus. with all of his heart i believe...at least all of his heart that he knew about.

the problem was, Peter didn't even know that he had a pocket of fear. i don't think he thought anything would be scary...after all, he was a hulking, blustering, tough fisherman. isn't he supposed to be able to chew lead or something of that sort?

Peter did love Jesus. he loved Him SOO much. shouldn't this love have been enough? a love for a sinless human being, who had given him purpose...Jesus had made Peter's life worthwhile...given him meaning...

peter was scared of a few men...he was scared what they'd do to him...the same peter that had no problem fighting folks off with a knife was now cowered by the testimony of a servant .

peter let his fear control him.

i'm learning more about fear every day...how it swallows up love. i kinda' even think it might be the root of all sin.

more on fear to come....

abstracted versus distracted

2007-04-09T12:27:00.001-07:00

On the wall
Originally uploaded by yanni.

how do you live life in an unseen world?

it'd almost be easier to understand if i were deaf or blind...or SOMETHING....

if i was blind or deaf or dumb, i'd realize that there IS in fact SOMETHING out there that i'm not engaging in.

it's not hard for a deaf man to 'get it' that there are sounds going on that he doesn't hear...

he sees mouths moving...but doesn't 'hear' a thing...

for the blind man, he can't know the beauty of a sunrise from looking it at.
for the deaf man, the perfect strains of yoyo ma's violin are lost.

these individuals are poignantly aware of a reality outside of their paradigm.

the abstract is hard for obvious reasons....you can't SEE what you're going for! you have to go have a quiet heart to even know it's there...you have to actually stop for a moment and BREATHE to realize that something other than the distracted life exists!

the distracted life is hard in it's own way...after all, living a life for the shadows of what isn't real...

it's like Plato's cave**...you know the story from a random college course you took...or if you're too young for college, take note: it'll gain ya points on a future test!

the cave is like this...there once was a man. he lived in a cave. he'd never been out of that cave. in that cave, all he had was a fire. that fire was his only light. and when the fire was blazing, it's shadows would dance on the wall...

the man started to see people in the shadows. he started to make up names and identities for each of the dancing shadows. he started to think that the shadow people were real people....he started to name them things like bob and sue and....you get my drift. it was as if he was naming volleyballs 'wilson' or something...

he was goin' a little 'off book'....

funny thing? the man was completely unaware of the reality right around the corner....

15 feet around the bend of the wall, there was an opening in the cave. and out in the 'opening' there was a whole real world with all sorts of real, not shadow, people. there were real bob's and sue's and wilson's to befriend.

now what if Plato's funny little man were to go into the real world? would he find 'real' people to be a bore and go back to his shadow people?

NO! absolutely not!

anyone who has tasted the real thing refuses to go back to the fake stuff.

there is this eternal reality that underlies everything in this world...

if we listen close enough, we can hear it...
if we breath deep enough, we can almost smell it...
if we open our mouths wide enough, He will fill us with it....

but at all times, in all places there is this 'premonition' that there is, in fact, a deeper underlying reality to 'life'.

we see some folks chasing all sorts of fantastical religious ideas, all in the name of this spiritual abstract. but the reality is, that abstract is an eternal reality of the course He has set this world upon.

the only way Jesus could have made it to the cross, in His 100% human self***, was that He was deeply connected and in tune with this deeper reality.

He knew that the world only took 7 days to create for the Originator of this reality...

and that same Originator held the reigns of His crucifiction...

Jesus was a moving, breathing human being living in the abstract realm of this world's eternal reality.

if He, as 100% human, can live in that way, cannot i?

it seems so elusive...it moves beyond my grasp every time i reach for it...

Jesus went away to the mountains...

i'm in the mountains.

He went by Himself to pray.

i'm by myself. i pray...oh to pray more!

but in Jesus prayer times, He was totally abandoned to the desires of the Father...

i find that this indeed is the struggle under the surface for me.

i have so many things i want...
dreams fulfilled:
music to be sung,
husband and family
dreams that right now are more abstract than REAL, shadows to which I have grown accustomed

to give this all up seems almost heretical. after all, aren't all these dreams good?

have no fear, i recognize the need to wait...how it's "to refine you." how the waiting is what makes me more Christlike.

but today. in the aloneness of this mountain. i am frustrated and tired of waiting. today, it's easier to live life distracted...today it's distracted versus abstracted...and let's just say, the distracted seems to be be inching ahead.

today, it's easier to be content with shadows.

i know, i know. put down the philosophy books, stop butchering the classics.

but the basic premise of the whole deal is what i've been sitting in for a while...

trying to live in the abstract. learning how to live life in the unseen realm...

Psalm 37:3-9 has been a little bit of a help with this recently...
Trust in the LORD and do good;
Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness.
Delight yourself in the LORD;
And He will give you the desires of your heart.
Commit your way to the LORD,
Trust also in Him, and He will do it.
He will bring forth your righteousness as the light
And your judgment as the noonday.
Rest in the LORD and wait patiently for Him;
Do not fret because of him who prospers in his way,
Because of the man who carries out wicked schemes.
Cease from anger and forsake wrath;
Do not fret; it leads only to evildoing.
For evildoers will be cut off,
But those who wait for the LORD, they will inherit the land.

and i'm still sitting, arrested, in Psalm 131...

Lord let my soul rest today in Your abstract, eternal, true reality!

cya on the flipside!

annetta

**Plato: Book VII of The Republic, The Allegory of the Cave
***Think not that i would EVER belittle Jesus being 100% God AND 100% man...i am simply relating to His 100% man side here...i am not God and have not much in common with that side of Jesus....except for that whole "i am in Christ, Christ is in God, Christ is in me, i have the Holy Spirit" thing...

Fear V. Love Pt. 1

2007-04-07T15:31:00.001-07:00

in the battle of fear versus love, i cast my lots both ways...

somedays, i'm pushing for love, freedom, living in His Spirit of grace.

other days, i'm holding out for control.

and this control...of circumstances...of the way people think of me....of what happens in my life....

well, it's all dictated by this innate, underlying sense of fear. i'm afraid of what happens when i let go.

and the winner is....

i'm not sure yet.

TO BE CONTINUED....

p.s.

2007-04-04T17:33:00.000-07:00

Hey guys!

so again, i'm having some computer problems with loading pics...BUT, if you look to the right column on my blog page, there's a link for 'my flickr photos'.

if you're so inclined, click on it and it'll take ya to a menagerie of pics..i took a few and my friend kendall took a few...

easy to detox at this altitude!

love ya!

a

detox, a personal soundtrack and an affinity to schizophrenia

2007-04-04T17:15:00.000-07:00

i never realized my person comes complete with my own personal soundtrack!

it's funny...i'll wake up and have no music going on, then about lunch time, i'm humming (all in my brain of course) a tune of a pop song i haven't heard in weeks...

all the while, i can't figure out where the music is coming from!

in the 'normal' world, i'd listen really hard with my super-sonic hearing and quickly discern which cubicle or radio was projecting the music....

but now.

well, now i sometimes just resign myself to letting the song play out...or i'll intentionally change the station in my brain...

weird.

hard...

especially when a voice other than my own is a welcome thing....

i think it's all a part of the detox.

you know, detox. it's where all the bad gets sifted out of your system...makes you want all the good instead of craving the bad.

part of this 'detox' is cultivating a 'quiet, weaned' heart...Psalm 131 has been my go-to this week:

A Pilgrim Song
God, I'm not trying to rule the roost,
I don't want to be king of the mountain.
I haven't meddled where I have no business
or fantasized grandiose plans.

I've kept my feet on the ground,
I've cultivated a quiet heart.
Like a baby content in its mother's arms,

my soul is a baby content.

Wait, Israel, for God.
Wait with hope.
Hope now;
hope always!

So. that's what's happening in my world...trying to learn how to hear that whisper...i thought it was hard when there are so many voices outside.

i'm finding it's just as hard with so many voices inside...

i promise i'm not turning schizophrenic...at least i THINK i'm not turning schizo...

:)

thinking of so many of you this week...and praying His grace and favor as He pursues you and you pursue Him...wholeheartedly my friends! wholeheartedly!

annetta

p.s. this detox is almost as bad as a physical detox...less lemon and ginger though...

snakes, lawnmowers and skin....

2007-03-29T21:20:00.000-07:00

i absolutely hate snakes.

they make me involuntarily shiver with revulsion. i immediately clench my jaws and back away whenever i see a snake...my dad, a huge animal 'guy' loves snakes. he loves animals of all kinds. When we were kids, he'd accidentally run over snakes or frogs with the lawnmower, and we'd all have to come inspect the poor demised creature before burying it.

sad.
sick.
gross.

snakes and i seem to have something in common these days.

you know how they shed their skins? they leave behind that translucent film of their skin...if you hold it in the dark, it can almost look like a real snake....minus a few eyes.

these past few weeks, in a lotta' ways, i feel like i'm shedding skin.

let me explain:

My daily schedule generally is...i read all morning..then write a little music...eat lunch...go for a long hike....read and write some more...make and eat dinner...read a little more...and go to bed.

i'm alone all day.

i don't talk to any people.

i don't email...i don't phone call...i don't watch tv.

i don't even listen to music.

*gasp!*

i'm finding that i depend on electronic and interpersonal communication for a feeling of well-being.

after several days of this solitude, i made a few much-needed communications and watched my fav program, '24.' as i went to bed, i discovered i felt more 'at home'. may not make sense to you, but it was tragic to me. i realized how much i depend on people and communication in order to feel like 'me.'

this is not ok.

so....as the days pass (hopefully) i see the scales of this need fall from me...it's as if there's something being scraped off of me...

i still have so much more to be scraped...and i find that the longest stretch is to come in these next few weeks...

so...pray that my heart is so content with the sound of my Savior alone...

sometimes the silence is so deafening...

sometimes it reveals His voice so clearly...

sometimes it's rather muddy...

if i heard His voice constantly, i think i'd be ok...

So. pray that i learn to constantly, consistantly, hear His voice alone....

i so long for the day when His voice is the only one guiding me....

one quick thought:

His voice is the voice i was created to hear:

i hear His voice less than any other.

how far i've strayed.

i miss you all...the stories of your lives...hearing how things are....

i miss His voice more...

my soul aches for it.

not in kansas anymore..praise GOD!

2007-03-20T09:47:00.000-07:00

first off: the drive from Oklahoma City to Denver, via Kansas, is brutal.

400 miles of NOTHING.

nope. not exaggerating. nothing. when i saw signs for refreshment stops "Only 327 miles ahead!" i knew i was in trouble!

Let's catch up a bit with logistics...

2 weeks ago i was in Houston...a week ago in San Antonio. inbetween san antonio and denver: fort worth, Oklahoma City, Denver, Estes, Boulder and now back to Denver.

tomorrow Estes. for the solid block.

I was able to run up (an hours drive from Denver) to Estes Park yesterday to check out the new digs and meet my fantastic hosts: Larry and Karen...they're leaving for 3 months on Wednesday.

He was a Rocky Mountain National Park Ranger for 35 years...we went to lunch at a little local place where everyone knew their name and stopped at our table to chat. Larry kept me entertained and Karen grimacing during lunch as he told crazy rescue stories on the top of Long's Peak. Long's Peak, a '14er' as they call it, is a gruesome hike where you have to grab out the ice pic and freeclimb at the top. Larry, 71 years old, still climbs Long's every summer. i was warned to not be scared if i found someone in their garage borrowing equipment at all hours....

another dose of 'you're not in kansas anymore dorothy' was when i went for a quick walk and came within 4 feet of a massive elk. wow. Larry and Karen left me a bit of Elk in the freezer to try...i told them i'd know i was TRULLY in the rockies when i sat on the back porch watching elk, deer and rabbits while drinking coffee and prepping to summitt Alice Mountain...

alright...i'll post again shortly to give an update on a few inner matters...but for now. i thought you'd enjoy a few pics... :)

until!

**PICS:
1. the view surrounding my new running trail...
2. Larry and Karen...phenomenal folks.
3. a quick shot from a Boulder trail.
4. a view of Estes as i was leaving town...

5. a horrid self-portrait in front of the Big Thompson

fabric softener.

2007-03-08T14:41:00.001-08:00

problem.

for sarah grace's bday, all she wanted was to cook our fav dish together: grilled veggie salad with chicken and goat cheese. impressively sophisticated taste for a 12 year old. being the adoring sis that i am, i broke out the grill and she started cracking eggs...there were the brownies for her class, veggies and chicken to sautee, cornbread to bake, dishwasher turned on and even laundry in the dryer...it's been a regular martha stewart evening at the box house...sans the whole illegal thing. the smells of all that is domestic and wonderful should be permeating the air with goodness.

problem?

a little bit of the cornbread batter spilled over the edge of the pan into the bottom of the oven. about 2 tablespoons of batter...from about 6 cups of batter.

i can't smell any of those scrumptions and homey smells.

all i can smell is burnt cornbread.

now my olfactory senses aren't so sensitive that they really pick up on every nuance in the house, but this odor is so pungent that it's making dad cough and all eyes are watering. we're not really thinking of the homemade peanut-butter brownies (none of the peter pan stuff either). the amazing smell of fresh laundry is totally under wraps. we just smell those 2 tablespoons of corn mixture bubbling black on the bottom of the oven.

not a big thing. but...

i've been uber busy this past year with a bunch of really cool things the Lord has allowed me to take part in...working at tallowood, a few times leading at other churches, discipleship with students, finishing seminary, being under jerome's leadership, and sharing life with the countless people i am incredibly blessed to call my friends.

but amidst all this wonderfullness, it's as if a bit of batter spilled out...and i'm a bit burnt. i'm a bit burnt out.

now, what's the cause of this burntness...is it my time with the Lord? i don't think so...is it any person in particular? for sure NO! is it...the list could go on and on, but the point is, a little bit of batter has spilled out...and all i can smell is the burnt stuff.

we solve this dilemma at the box house by opening windows, going out to dinner and putting in a new load of laundry with extra fabric softener.

i believe He is solving this dilemma in my life by calling me away for a time. funny how He hits 2 birds with 1 stone eh? teaching me faith...calling me out...walking with no title...no job...no 'ministry'...all the while, He's breathing fresh air in me. He's adding a little extra softener to my character as He cleans, purifies, me. in the end, prayerfully i'll come out looking more like Him...maybe i'll have the whole wild-eyed Moses look...maybe i'll just be me...with less of me and more of Him. i'm praying for humility and gentleness.

but. what e'er the outcome...i pray this gutted, burnt life turns into an aroma in His Presence.

i've so far to go friends....thanks for journeying with me...i'm lifting you to Him tonight...many by name and all by the Spirit...

until,

annetta

p.s. this pic is the bday girl herself...precious lil one...couldn't be more proud!

jumper

2007-03-08T07:40:00.000-08:00

fear.

What an ugly little word.
debilitating,
i have a fear.

failure.

it's this deep thing in the pit of my stomache...rises up whenever i look at life through different colored lenses. makes tears rise to my eyes. grips me. paralyzing. and all my insecurities rise to the surface like flotsam and jetsam.

what if i failed? what if i fell flat on my face? who would hate me? who would still love me?

of course my friends wouldn't hate me. but they would feel sorry for me. and my pride would hate that. and i'd think that everyone was looking at me thinking, "too bad you failed..what are you going to do now?"

Seriously, is there anyone that has the ability to utterly disregard success and failure in the lives of others? doesn't a certain degree of success and failure directly effect the amount of friends one has? we see if someone is 'moving ahead' in life...we look at if they are working hard...at how they're putting their gifts and talents to use.

i find myself envying those folks who get up and simply DO it. they don't seem to mind that their failure is not only probable, but imminent. makes me think they don't care if they have friends or not...def not people pleasers...

if one of these risktakers fail, there's always a line of folks to line up and say 'i told ya so'...if a risktaker succeeds, those same folks just as easily line up to bask in the glory of success.

makes me wonder what success really is...

If glory really only belongs to the Lord...if all glory is God's, then sucess should be determined by what He is calling one to do. wow.

that means that in order for this journey of mine to be a 'success'...i need simply to walk in step with the Spirit each day...practicing the Presence of Him...

it'd be easier to make a worldly success of myself.

how do i get to this place...it's not some cheesy self-help book that brings me here. it's not a 'pick-yourself-up-day-after-day-and-do-these-10-steps' deal. i read a few verses in Psalm 37 that may just be David's wisdom on all this...

Keep company with God,
get in on the best.

Open up before God, keep nothing back;
He'll do whatever needs to be done:
He'll validate your life in the clear light of day
and stamp you with approval at high noon.

Quiet down before God,
be prayerful before Him.
(4b-7a)

OH! my heart glories in this! His validation! His approval! His rest!

So. to faith. it's doing it. confronting the monster of busyness. beating him down with my bare fists actually. realizing the monster is me and is not me at the same time. embracing raw vulnerability & honesty. there will definitely be blood involved...if there hasn't been already.

stepping out in faith. maybe it's better described as a plunge into grace...where i am steeped in the water of His Spirit and come up soaking wet.

So here i go, stepping out on faith...plugging my nose...looking off the high dive...and jumping.

just know, you better step back. there will be a splash. i'm probably not gonna execute a beautiful swan dive. if you're anywhere near you'll get wet... if you get wet, you're gonna' wanna' dive in too...if i think about it,

a cannonball is more my style.

**this pic is sarah grace at one of the college retreats at twood...

the previews have always been my favorite part...

2007-03-07T20:49:00.000-08:00

i was gonna wait to start this whole 'blogging' business. i was gonna wait until i was in a picture perfect setting...in a cabin in estes park, CO. i was gonna wait until the large, mystical voice of God started booming through this puny, pink puffy brain, explaining in a flash the grand mysteries of life. i was gonna wait until my current character and my soon-to-be character were hyperbolic versions of each other. i was gonna wait until i started to see real live miracles, near death experiences on mountain tops...i was gonna wait until it seemed the journey had really begun.

why blog if the trip hasn't started?

but....has the journey begun?

i mean, i've been thinking and sleeping and eating and breathing this 'faith adventure' for weeks. at the very least, the starting gate should have a gun going off and voices screaming encouragement as a sign that i'm on the way!

but maybe...maybe the journey HAS begun.

while my sitting in my parents house in san antonio may not be a picture perfect setting, and there is no ominous James Earl Jones voice haunting my thoughts, i do have a peace that surpasses human understanding and the sweet whisper of the Spirit more than compensates. His Word may still remain a mystery in more ways than a million, but He has given me my 'bread' for today.

a dear friend* emailed me these words:

Be assured our God will both show you Himself in this time – and then at the right time, will point you to what comes next. It’s always a “to be continued thing” with Him, is it not? And the continuation rests entirely on this rest in Him that really is foreign to our linear minds. Which makes it all the more sweet once we get that and let Him move us – no, sweep us – into the current of what turns out to be an amazing sort of grace...

i can't say it better than my eloquent beautiful friend. my heart rests today in being 'swept up' in this amazing sort of grace...

so while my mind still thinks there should be neon signs, flashing lights and little men in black suits with flashlights pointing the way to my seat to watch this whole thing unfold**...i'm content to walk in the commonality of today...sucking the marrow out of the moments He is allowing...thanking Him for His gentle provision and resting. yes my friends, i am resting. in Him...

praying for His foreign rest to become my norm...

love you.

annetta

*EH
**do i not even get previews? they're my favorite part!

p.s. Mary took this pic of the texas sky...

the story...at least the beginning...

2007-03-07T20:25:00.000-08:00

Some of you may have no idea what this 'journey' i'm on is all about.

it's pretty simple. God told me to leave my job, my family and my friends, my home: destination, unknown.

if i think about it, honestly, i could end up right back where i started...physically that is.

Spiritually, i pray i'll be in a whole 'nother ballgame. i mean, let's think about this...trusting daily for the Lord to meet needs and still my heart...trusting Him to be my future and my hope...no 'plans' of my own that i know...kinda' like M6 all over again!***

what's this all stem from, you may ask...it started with an inclination in my spirit to pray for faith in the grand canyon...He continued the journey by giving me Isaiah 51:1&2,

"Listen to me, you who pursue righteousness and who seek the LORD:
Look to the rock from which you were cut and to the quarry from which
you were hewn; look to Abraham, your father, and to Sarah, who gave
you birth. When I called him he was but one, and I blessed him and
made him many."

And then He again confirmed the step by a peace in my spirit...a conviction of my heart...even a vision (i know, 'gasp!", i've gone pentecostal folks!). All to say, i am more convinced now, than ever before, that this is His will for my life at this time.

OK. enough for now...i just wanted to get the 'why' down. now we can concentrate on the 'what'...so.

until next time folks...same bat time, same bat channel....

annetta

p.s. this pic is from upstate ny in october '06...it just looked like what i think the other end of this journey is gonna look like...kinda' like the 'light at the end of the tunnel' without the whole tunnel vision effect...

***if you're interested in M6 and didn't get to read our blogspots for that time, you can check out the 'box team' blogspot...it's where part of this started: xchangem6box.blogspot.com