more heart, less attack

be the light in the crack
be the one that's mending the camel's back
slow to anger, quick to laugh
be more heart and less attack

--bear and bo, who pen inklings of me and put them to beautiful music

this year, i will live these lyrics. that's my only goal. i have been at college for four days now and this is all my heart can think about. i want to be noticeably different. not in the "oh look at that freak" kind of different (though i'm sure some will think that), but the "wow she is so sincere" kind of different. the "i want what she has" kind of different. the "maybe the reason she is genuine is because it's not her it's Jesus" kind of different.

matthew tells us that we are to be salt and light, bringing flavor and radiance to an otherwise bland and dark world. it seems to me that i need to invite everyone into my city on a hill, not just the ones that appear to be good candidates. each and every person that knocks on my door should be welcomed with open arms because they are a child of God.

"...let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father." --matthew 5:16

it is so easy to look past the people that are a little too clingy, a little too nosy, a little too partyish, a little too loud, a little too quiet, a little too good. what if Jesus had looked past you? what if He'd said "well anna's too insecure and always feels like she needs a friend. why should i die for her?" i need to clean my spiritual glasses, 'cause lately they've been foggy. rain would do me some good.

i stuck my hat out
i caught the raindrops
i drank the water
i felt my veins block
i'm nearly sanctified
i'm nearly broken
i'm down the river
i'm nearly open
i'm down the river
to where i'm goin'

blue like jazz is a good book

I don't think we get it. And by 'we' I mean Christians, myself included. I just finished reading Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller and it made me take a few steps back and think, "What am I doing? Am I really being Jesus to people? Do I really have faith? Is this real? Am I real?"

If you go get the book, don't automatically jump to the conclusion that I agree with everything in it. I don't. I don't think Christians should cuss just because and I certainly don't think South Park is a great show to watch (read the book, you'll understand.) I agree with about 90 something percent of it, and it's probably in my top three favorite books of all time.

We are called to love people, called to be different. We aren't doing that. Just look at how the media portrays us. We're seen as people who loathe homosexuals and non-Christians and Democrats. Reality check, they're people, too. And Jesus said to love everyone. Not just our brothers and sisters in Christ (which, by the way, is way harder than we say it is.)

And another thing, why are we so flustered by other Christians sinning? As if we don't? I have all these questions, healthy questions for a Christian college kid, I think.

“I believe the greatest trick of the devil is not to get us into some sort of evil but rather have us wasting time. This is why the devil tries so hard to get Christians to be religious. If he can sink a man's mind into habit, he will prevent his heart from engaging God. I was into habit.” 

I think maybe this has been me. Not completely, but kind of. I don't want to be religious though, I want to be the hands and feet of Jesus like I'm meant to. I want to see people through His eyes. That's what I want. And yet only God can rid me of me, piece by piece, lesson by lesson.

“At the end of the day, when I am lying in bed and I know the chances of any of our theology being exactly right are a million to one, I need to know that God has things figured out, that if my math is wrong we are still going to be okay. And wonder is that feeling we get when we let go of our silly answers, our mapped out rules that we want God to follow. I don't think there is any better worship than wonder.”

When did we lose sight of that? Following God isn't algebra II. It's not something that can be boiled down to an equation. God is God. I don't know anything, He knows everything. And because that's true, everything's gonna be okay. 

Jesus, people, music.

In t-minus two weeks, I'll be a high school graduate.  And while middle college has been one of the best times of my life, I still had some rough patches throughout the past few years.  I'm not the advice-giving type; I think experience is a better teacher.  And despite all my knowledge gained from sitting in class (Hah), I've learned these important truths about life.

Put Jesus first, and everything else will fall into place.
If you're a Christian, this seems like a no brainer.  But as a Christian, I know it's not.  Truly making Jesus your main priority is no easy feat.  It's a decision you have to make every day He chooses to wake you up.  You have to say, "God, I am going to try with everything that I am to live for You today.  I know I'll never be perfect, I need Your grace.  So give it to me as I attempt to navigate this life as a reflection of Your Son."  There's a joy that comes with reading His word even if it's just for ten minutes in the morning.  I know I have personally seen proof of this in my own life.  I once heard, "How do you expect to overflow onto others if you're not filling up yourself?"  True that, Sam.  True that.

People are important.
I mean this in couple different ways.  For a while, I thought I could be a loner and be okay with it.  Not only in the context of not having a romantic relationship, but believing I didn't need anyone to sustain me.  And while this is right to a point, because really Jesus is all anyone will ever need, it's completely wrong simultaneously.  You do need people.  You need friends who will share in your struggles, laugh at your lame jokes, and pray for you on the good and bad days.  Secondly, people are important because they are people.  They are God's creation, and they deserve to be treated as such.  Forming relationships with those outside your friend group is beyond essential to living a Christ-driven life.  And I don't mean just casual "Oh hi how are you" relationships.  I mean, actually be there for them.  Make sure they're okay.  Be Jesus to them.

Music gets you through.
Okay, so Jesus really gets you through.  But music helps.  A lot.  How grateful I am for people like Matt Thiessen, Matt Hoopes, Steve Moakler, Ben Rector, Bear and Bo Rinehart, Adam Agee, Jason Dunn... just to name a few.  They sing for kids (actually I'm an adult... *cries*) like me, a shout into the void with the hope that a heart will be touched.  Well you have guys.  You've helped shape who I was, who am, and will become.  You deserve the world.

So this is me, saying I still don't know who I am completely, just where I'm headed and Who will be there next to me.  But in my 18 years of existence, at least I've learned something.

new year \\ new poems

starting off the new year with writing a poem about my deepest fear, and how to conquer it.  a swell beginning, me thinks.

Run For Your Life

My blonde hair and brown eyes
so wide.  Your hand reaching
out, your arm dissolving the

distance.  Between you and me,
I wasn’t scared of anything.  Even
when the dark engulfed me and

the monsters lingered in my closet,
I knew I could run to you.  Brave
is what you made me.  Now

dark seems peaceful as I lay here,
moonlight sneaking past the blinds.
My head against the pillow,

thoughts as tangled as my brown
mane.  I close my tired eyes and try
to remember that solitude is not

the same as loneliness.  Independence
is not shameful, a man does not make
you beautiful.  Brave soul, don’t forget

that you are never alone.  And when
you fear that you are, start running.
Don’t stop until you’re home.

a.s.

growing pains

honesty hour, guys. i really should be writing out note cards for bio or typing my one page reflection for creative writing or even trying to understand the oh-so-horrendous trigonometry. but here i am, being the irresponsible college (slash high school) kid that i am and writing a blog post in all lowercase letters instead.

no one told me growing up was going to be this hard. hard and monotonous and beautiful all at once.  it's terrifying when you realize eight months from now you won't go to sleep in your own bed or share a bathroom with your parents.  that if you cry in the shower a stranger might hear and think you're depressed when really it's just your way of coping with life.  that you won't know all the backroads anymore or run into people you know at walmart.  that your parents won't be there reminding you to do your checkbook or pick up your messy room.  that your best friend will be miles away in a universe opposite yours.  that you will have to find a new church to be a part of and attend.  that you'll have to study for finals without your mom and buy your own groceries and gas.  it all sounds so unreal, like a dream.

but at the same time, you're ready.  you have been ready your entire life.  since you were a toddler waddling around living room, you have been ready to be on your own.  to taste independence for the first time.

you know you're prepared, yet something's holding you back.  that voice in the back of your mind telling you, "but what if you fail?  what if you screw this up too?"

so this is me saying, "i may fail and fail miserably.  i may screw this up as i have a million things a million times before.  but life is beckoning and it's finally my turn to answer.  no matter what happens, Jesus will always love me.  my parents will always love me.  my dearest friends will always love me.  and in the end, that's all that i need.  my Jesus standing with open arms and the people that care about me more than life itself.  that's why i have to go.  for them, and for me."

like yesterday

i honestly cannot quite grasp that i am a senior in high school.  that i am looking at colleges to attend and will be moving away from home soon.  it's the most bittersweet feeling i have experienced in my 17 -- almost 18 -- years.  tomorrow, i will be 18 in 18 days.  that's another thing i have yet to fully accept.

because of my time at middle college, i'll be one semester away from being a junior in college.  i won't be taking classes with new, awkward freshman.  i'll be with experienced pros, and that kind of freaks me out.  i mean, i've always gotten along better with people a couple years older than me, but it'll be intimidating to be surrounded by them. and i know i'll find my place eventually, but the thought of aimlessly searching for that place is terrifying.

i remember when i was a brace-faced sixth grader, stomach churning as i walked in the doors of the middle school.  i wanted to be a singer/songwriter like taylor swift; i wanted to be fearless.  and i'm sitting here listening to "hey there delilah," not believing it was released eight years ago. oh how desperately i wished for people's approval back then. and how i learned it's only Jesus' opinion that matters in the end.  clifford and dragon tales and zoom and arthur.  aaron carter's one hit single and writing cursive Ls. looking forward to the magic school bus on saturday mornings. singing the books of the Bible in the car with mom. sitting barefoot on the front porch in cutoffs with my goldie girl, sharing bologna sandwiches.

it all seems so vivid. like yesterday.

beliefs

I believe in black checkers, Slinkys with kinks, jeans fraying at the bottom,
clothes from Goodwill, wishful thinking, the last two swigs in the milk jug,
off-brand soft drinks, bruised fruit, buggies at Wal-Mart that thump as you roll them,
clean-up on aisle seven, Bazooka stuck to the bottom of your hightop, beater cars,
dull razors, bent can-openers, flat tires, the boy sitting alone at lunch, kind words, bear hugs,
bad hair days, chivalrous men, pretty faces hidden behind frames, blue collars,
pennies found face-down, broken mirrors, garage sales, books with missing pages,
happy endings, scratched CDs, vinyls, Relient K lyrics, The Middle by Jimmy Eat World,
Jesus, the Hunchback of Notre Dame, second-string, kids picked last at recess.  Dark horses prevail; run with them.

once i met a blimey cow

*high-fived Josh and Kelli too. Jussayin.

Besides seeing Relient K, which was obviously the best part of Tuesday night, I met Jordan Taylor from Blimey Cow.  Yes, yes I did.  And though I love his cynical sarcasm online, I like him way better in person.  He was just so sincere.  Plus, when I stopped him to to say hey, he said "Oh HEY!" all excited-like.  I know he's probably done that to a thousand people, but he still made me feel like I was something special.  We chatted for a good ten minutes about him meeting Matthew Thiessen in Applebee's (lucky duck... or is it cow...), why in the world he didn't include RK in his last messyges video (silly boy), the fact that he's seen them eight times (God smiles upon this child), how Kathryn was going to flip when I told her I met him (she did), etc.  I asked if I could get a picture and he willingly agreed.  He actually seemed to want to continue our conversation, but he had a huddle of people anxiously waiting to meet him, so I ended it there.

But Jordan, believe me, I would've loved to talk for days!  We have eons in common and all I really wanted to do was discuss McGee and Me, Adventures in Odessey, The Buttercream Gang... how about we just say our favorite T.V. shows growing up...

Anywho, I hope to hang out with you and the crew someday soon.  I only live a couple hours away so it's a very feasible weekend trip!  It was rad meeting you briefly, but can we all (me, you, Josh, Kelli) go out to lunch sometime?  You pick the place -- maybe Matty T.'ll show up ;)

home

It was absolute perfection -- no.  Better.  I was aching and every part of my body was screaming for me to stop jumping, to lay down and sleep for two days straight.  But I didn't.  I couldn't.  Not when Matty T. was only a yard away and Hoopes was playing right there before my very eyes.  It all felt like a dream -- a beautiful, long-awaited dream that was finally coming true.  I had never felt so alive.  So at home.  The whole room was singing at the top of their lungs, every lyric memorized by heart.  Never in a million years would I have thought that here in the midst of strangers is where I'd feel like I belonged.  But I did.  And it was all I could do to keep from crying tears of joy.  Because these people got me.  They got me and they didn't even know my name.  And so I sang and I danced and laughed and prayed that this could last forever.  But as I well knew, all good things must come to an end.

Relient K was everything I could've hoped for and more.  The five years of waiting was worth it in the first second I saw the back of Matt Thiessen's curly head.  When I saw Hoopes' grin and the sincerity of the Matts' friendship.  All I knew to do was breathe it in -- to close my eyes and capture every detail so it wouldn't slip away.  These guys were the real deal.  Are the real deal.  And no one's ever going to change my mind about that.

While being united in the love of Relient K is seriously one of the best feelings ever, I know heaven will be that times a million-gazillion-trillion.  Because we'll all be united in the love of Jesus, and the gratitude we owe to the One who saved us from ourselves.

"Take a good look at yourself and know
You've got yourself a ways to go
But difficult is not impossible
You can take back all the lost control
Take a good look at yourself and see
That you'll emerge eventually
As long as your heart's not too far gone
From the only Thing that can save you from yourself."
hope for every fallen man by relient k

I have a lot to learn and even more to do, but as long as I've got Jesus, I'll get there.  It's reassuring that Matty T. feels the same way.  Him and thousands of others.  I'm not alone.

photo credit goes to my dear friend and fellow fangirl, alex.

thanks for summer nights

Summer nights are beautiful.  Magical.  The way the warm air lingers just a little bit longer.  The way the stars shine a little bit brighter, the way smiles are a little bit bigger.

Summer nights are bowling with some friends even though you're lucky to hit mid 80s.

Summer nights are laughing loud with your best friend and not minding who's listening.

Summer nights are a group of baseball guys huddled a few tables over, dirt-covered knees and broke-in caps.

Summer nights are catching one of them glancing at you and turning away, cheeks turning bubblegum pink.

Summer nights are sunroofs open and windows down and never feeling so alive.

Summer nights are singing at the top of your lungs and drumming the steering wheel like you know what you're doing.

Summer nights are racing with Shan without going immorally over the speed limit.

Summer nights are winding backroads and porch lights on and being proud to be from the country.

Summer nights are a Scotty McCreery song stuck in your head, playing like a soundtrack to your heart.

Summer nights are laying in your bed staring up at the ceiling, remembering how good you've got it.

Thanks, God.  For summer nights.

sincerety \\ my new love

A lot of people had raved about Owl City for some time.  But I just kind of blew them off.  Electronic-y music wasn't really for me, or so I thought.  Wrong.  Adam Young (Owl City) is one of the most sincere artists around.  Of course, I still love Relient K dearly, because of their wit and their honesty.  But I love Adam Young too.

His love for Christ is so beautiful, so true.  I aspire to have faith like his someday.

Songs currently on my playlist:
Tidal Wave
Cave In
How Deep The Father's Love For Us [his version]
Hot Air Balloon
If My Heart Was A House
Deer In The Headlights
Gold
Sunburn
Metropolis
Hello Seattle
Embers

Adam, I love ya.  Not in a weird I'm-gonna-stalk-you way, but in a way like this -- you awakened a part of me I didn't know existed.  Somewhere that it's okay to be a kid still, even when everybody's rushing you to grow up.  A place I can dream what I want, no matter how far-fetched.  After all, reality is a lovely place, but I wouldn't wanna live there.

i'm not zoey davis

As most of you know, I'm a writer.  It's what I do.  I make up characters and give them stories to pass the time.

So for a while I had this character in my head.  She was a girl who was a lot like me.  Her name was Zoey Davis.  She was a tomboy with ridiculously awesome curly hair and was valedictorian kind of smart.  She played soccer and had a height of 5'4".  And there was this guy named Brock Johnson who was totally into her, and pursued her in every way possible.  Basically Zoey was who this image of who I wanted to be.  What I wanted for myself.

But the thing is, I'm not Zoey Davis.

I don't have curly hair, God gave me glorious straight hair that many a person envies.

I'm not going to be valedictorian, and that's okay.  I'm not the next Einstein, I'm a hardworking student that's giving it her all.

I wasn't made to gracefully float across the soccer field.  I was made for running to the ones who are hurting.

I'm not short.  God didn't make me a petite little pixie, or tall super model.  I'm the average girl-next-door.  Brown hair, freckles, and a listening ear.  That's who I am.

And maybe I will have a Brock Johnson of my own one of these days, but it's not right now.  I'm not ready, and God knows that.

Because I'm Anna.

Not Zoey Davis.

in real life

i don't feel like being all proper like and capitalizing anything tonight again. hope ya'll don't mind.

in real life, i just lost a close friend and dearheart, k.o.  he was 85 and a sit-in for my grandparents that all passed away when i was pretty young. he was a gentlemen and jokester, a worker and have funner.  k.o. was the kind of guy all the girls want to marry.  he wore his uniform well, and made his country proud.  he said about his wife, "i'm the best thing that ever happened to her." but he had no doubt it was vice versa.  k.o. was the kind of person that everyone aspires to be like.  i don't know why i'm talking about him in past tense.  he's more alive than he's ever been. i love ya, 'ol guy.  see you soon.

in real life, we got our yearbooks today.  and a lot of people signed mine, and all of them had very lovely things to say that made my heart smile.  but his was the best.  it was heartfelt and quirky, smudged but perfect.  you tug at my heartstrings without even trying.  don'tcha know i'm crazy 'boutcha?  i like you kid.  i like you sincerely.

in real life, my best friend and i couldn't study due to singing "i'll make a man out of you" from mulan. sorry if we just wanna defeat the huns and not care about u.s. history.

in real life, my dear soul sis went to formal with my other soul sibling ro and basically i just wanted to die of sheer happiness.  there's nothing quite like sharing a soul with someone, i hope you guys get to experience it someday.  it's the best thing (that was for kat ^_^) and nothing can begin to compare the beauty God has in soul sister/broship.  it's rad.

in real life, i'm seeing relient k this friday.  i keep pinching myself and holding my tickets in my hand to assure myself i'm not dreaming.  they're real, and i'm beyond excited, and matty t. better get ready for the biggest hug ever.

dreaming never hurt anyone

i really don't feel like capitalizing anything tonight, nor do i really know what to write. so let me ramble on please, because i like to ramble and it's one of the only things that truly comes easily to me.

it feels weird, growing up. when you're little you always want to. you pretend you're a mom with three kids of your own, who are really just your friends renamed, and say that "dad's away on business" because boys are too icky to play with. least that's what i did.

then you get to middle school and you realize boys, well one boy, isn't all that icky and is actually kind of funny and nice even though he smells terrible after gym class and drenches himself in some kind of axe. you hope he'll sit by you in class or say hi to you in the hallway because for some reason, his smile makes your heart beat a little faster and your hands sweat when he's close. but you eventually get over him because it turns out he's more obnoxious than you once thought.

then you hit high school, and everybody has somebody. or so it seems. and you wonder if people are really as happy as they seem to be, but you can never be sure because you know the smile on your face isn't always a real one. you can't help but think that couples are happy and that you somehow need to find that person that makes you happy but it never happens. because the guy you like always likes someone else, never you.

so you sit quietly on the sidelines watching his dark eyes dance when people laugh at his jokes or when he makes an A on a test. you smile contentedly to yourself whenever he wears his neon green shirt because you think he looks like a movie star when he wears it. and you can't help but hope that even though he's focused on someone else, that one day, he'll notice you. that his dark eyes will meet yours and that something will click.

a crazy dream, you know that. but it's a dream, nonetheless. and dreaming never hurt anyone.

perceptions

I struggle with feeling inferior, like, a lot.  And I'm not sure why really.  I just always seem to be one step below everyone for some reason or another.  But I should know by now that there is always going to be someone skinnier, smarter, cuter, funnier, happier, or nicer than I consider myself to be.  Because the people I see aren't always people.  The real kind that are honest and true and vulnerable like I try to be.  They're perceptions, images of who I make them out to be in this constantly over thinking head of mine.

It's not right, I know it's not.  The Bible tells us not to compare ourselves, I know that.  I can't help but thinking, "Well he's dating her instead of me because she's prettier" or "He's so much smarter than me, I wish I was a good test taker like him."

Maybe I'm rambling, actually I know I am, but I just need to throw this out there.  I can honestly say that I blog more for me than for you now.

Does anyone else only see perceptions?  Or am I the only one who feels surrounded by beautiful, smart, happy people while I'm fighting to keep my head above water and be "normal"?

"I don't want to be perceived the way I am, I just want to be perceived the way I am." -Relient K

i think i'll go eat cereal and stare out the window

I used to make lists to help me sort through things.  But they don't help like they once did.  Maybe it's because I don't write them anymore or maybe it's because I don't know what to write at all.  It's like my life's a thrown-together bulletin board that never gets organized.  All of it's in a big, jumbled mess and just staring at it gives me a headache.  School, driver's test, summer job, middle college, guys.... it feels like everything's being hurled at me all at once.  And a list isn't gonna help me with any of that.

To be honest, I just need to cry.  I need to cry out all my worries about the future.  My fear of failure.  My silence around the only guy I actually want to talk to.  My frustration with my parents.  My questions for God.  But instead I'll write it out, because people don't like it when you cry.  They think you're weak and vulnerable.  But I am.  I'm tired and scared and confused. Wishful thinking only goes so far.

Anna's the smart girl.  She's knows everything.
I don't know everything.  I don't even know who I am.

Anna won't fail.  She'll succeed in whatever she decides to do.
But what if I do?  What then?

Anna doesn't need a guy.  She'll wait for God to bring the right man along.
I really like you.  I'd like to be friends.  Why can't you seem to make up your mind about me?

Anna's the perfect daughter.  Her parents must be so proud.
We argue.  I don't always do as I'm told.  And I don't always agree with what they say.

Anna's such a strong Christian.  She must be so close to God.
I struggle to see Jesus just like you do.  And as much as I want to be close to Him, I've still got a long way to go.

Truth be told, I'm just your average teenager that doesn't know left from right.  I don't know where I'm going in life or what I'll eat for supper tonight.  So I'll just sit here and listen to Matthew Thiessen sing the lyrics that echo my heart.

jefferson airplane, i'm trapped and i am enclosed
but i won't complain, i'll open all the windows
jefferson airplane i'm trapped and i am encolsed
but i won't complain i'll open all the windows 

'cause when it's colder, i feel much better 
when i cry on my own shoulder
i'll just throw on a sweater and go

and i'll go, to undergo a surgery to purge me of this lonely mood
and my ego, the status quo, provides me with a decent attitude
and i'll go to undergo a change of heart, a change of clothes
and when i'm home, i think i'll go eat cereal and stare out the window

i wanna feed the hungry children

"... and reach across the farthest land.  And tell the broken there is healing, and mercy in the Father's hands."  --Britt Nicole, Set the World on Fire

Well.  How else do I say this. I think I know where I'm meant to serve.

Kenya.

As crazy as it may seem, God just gave it to me.  First it came up in a book I was reading.  Eli and Katie headed off to Kenya together in "Coming Attractions" by Robin Jones Gunn.  Then my mom brought me home an article about a major leader in Kenya tweeting to people in surrounding villages.  Then I saw this poster on onedaywithoutshoes.com...

I was like, "Okay, God.  You trying to tell me something here?"  And I really think He was.  Well, is.  So I've started researching. The statistics are horrifying to say the least, but I honestly cannot wait to get over there and just hold kids.  Is that weird?  I suppose not. But I've got two more years of high school left until I can, so the least I can do is learn about what's going on.

8 percent of the adult population in Kenya are infected with HIV-AIDS, leaving 1.2 million kids who have lost one or both parents. When this happens, many kids end up in the streets, exposing them to violence, crimes, drugs-- sights they shouldn't have to see. Others end up staying home to take care of sick family members, look after their younger siblings, or work to provide for them.  If they do have the opportunity to attend school, most of them are denied it because their family can't afford to send all of the children.

The physical needs are the obvious ones, but these children have been left with emotional wounds that need healing, too.  I'm definitely not qualified for the job, but I'm willing.  I saw this quote on Pintrest once that said something like, "God doesn't call the qualified-- He qualifies the called."  Then there's the 116 Clique song that always comes to my head-- "Send me, I'll go! Lemme go, lemme go!"

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying:
Who should I send?
Who will go for Us?
I said:

Here I am.  Send Me.  [Isaiah 6:8 HCSB]

I'm getting tired of going through the motions.  The mundane day-to-day tasks.  Empty religion.  I'm ready to follow God wherever He takes me.  If it's Kenya, so be it.  If I never have a husband or kids to call mine, so be it. I want a genuine relationship with Jesus like the one James talks about.

Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you.  [James 1:27 NLT]

I cannot wait.

forever alone?

I was in creative writing, undisturbed silence yet to be broken.  Casually scrolling down my Pintrest homepage when... LAUGHTER. And not the little "hehehe" kind of laugh.  It was more like "AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"  Then, as to be expected, everyone turned to me and asked the obvious question: What's so funny?  I motioned to the picture above through my loud guffaws.  A few giggled, some smiled, but no one genuinely laughed like I did. Then I realized why.  I could relate.

If someone asked me my greatest fear, it'd probably be ending up alone.  No family.  No kids.  Just me and my dog.  All I've ever wanted is a husband and children of my own.  Just the thought of not becoming a wife and mother scares me.  A lot.

Lately I've been asking God what He wants me to do with my life, and I the results have been kind of baffling.

I think He wants me to be an English teacher.

A missionary English teacher.

Not a problem, right?  I'm a writer by nature and my grammar is decent.  I love kids and long to comfort the ones who need to be held.  I could write on the side, just like I'd always hoped.  It's my ideal job.

But what about the house I promised myself I'd build so my kids would always have a place to come back to? What about watching my husband playing with our kids in the front yard through the kitchen window?  What about late-night coffee dates in the living room after the kids are asleep?  What about the life I've dreamed of as long as I can remember?

My heart's sinking to my stomach as I write these words.  It's breaking knowing that the life I've envisioned may never be real. But it's also telling me this is what I should do.  That I should trust God with my future because He knows me better than I know myself. That He loves me and knows exactly where I'll be happiest.

"I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord.  "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you.  Plans to give you hope and a future."
--Jeremiah 29:11

I want to protest -- I want to yell NO.  I don't want to prove everyone's assumptions right -- that I'll turn out to be the Jesus freaky missionary girl and never get married.  Then He showed me this verse.  Three times.  Three times.  And until this very moment, I wasn't sure why.  But now it's all making sense. 

"The Lord himself will fight for you." --Exodus 14:14

I don't have to defend myself.  He'll fight for me.  He asked me to be a missionary.  And I think I'm ready to say yes. 

pictures via pintrest

today is just one of those days.

written on january 25, 2012; just thoughts of a high school girl.

Today, I just want to block the world out.
I'm tired of people and I'm tired of their antics.
I want the words popular and loser to be erased.
Feeling worthless isn't what I was made for.
I know that.  Jesus said that.
Then when do I feel like I am?
Why does my world seem to be empty?
Everyone else's seems to be full of life.
But is anyone real?
Anyone?
They say they are; they say they're honest.
But I don't think they are.
Because if everyone was real, we'd all understand.
We'd know we don't have live up to perfection.
Status wouldn't matter.
Money wouldn't get you places.
Clothes wouldn't label you.
You wouldn't be defined by your past.
Everyone would have a friend.
When someone looked you in the eye, you wouldn't have to turn away.
Because you'd know that really, they're just like you.
That they have fears.
Dreams.
Questions.
Passion.
Hurt.
Potential.
But instead, everyone keeps everything locked in their heart, unspoken, never heard.
I trudge through life with friends of my own, and you trudge with yours.
You pass me by, never knowing me past my name.
Never seeing all the potential lying beneath the surface.
No, instead we separate.
Our paths Y off.
You go your way.
I go mine.
You don't know me.
You don't know that I question my worth.
You don't know that I want to know you.
That I care about your past and hope your future's bright.
That even though I'm not "popular," I do matter.
I matter to Jesus.
You matter to Jesus.
That we're all His kids.
That on days like today, I just want to block the world out.
But then I remember how beautiful it can be.
Because He came to save it.

different.

"Fire that's so contagious it's taking over me and you can't stop it."

Lately I've been craving to stand out.  To be completely weird in today's society, to just go crazy and not care what anyone else thinks.  I'm sick of the norm.  I want drastic change, and I want it now.

Every day life is mundane.  It's not that I'm not grateful-- I love every moment that Jesus chooses to give me. But it feels like I'm breathing in apathy instead of oxygen.  People merely pass me by.  They don't care about my story.  They don't know that I'm sincerely interested in theirs.

My mom says I'm feeling rebellious, but I really don't think that's it.  I still want to abide by the rules-- I still want to do my homework, run track, read my Bible diligently, worship Jesus with all that I am.  I just want to start headfirst in the opposite direction of the crowd.  Not only do I want my actions to reflect my differentness, I want my appearance to as well.  We're supposed to be a peculiar people... why not go all out?

"They see us coming from miles away.  There's no hiding or denying 'cause we're not ashamed.  With our hands up in the air, boys and girls, they start to stare.  It's a wonder... can you feel it?"

No, I don't want to wear black or get a tongue piercing or anything of that sort.  No tattoos or markings. Though I am considering a wild hairstyle or a random wardrobe.  I don't know.  Something.  Something to let everyone know that God made me unique just like He made them unique.  That even though I'm crazy, I'm crazy for Jesus.

"If I acted crazy; I did it for God; if I acted overly serious, I did it for you.  Christ's love has moved me to such extremes.  His love has the first and last word in everything we do." --2 Corinthians 5:13-14

I mean, I've been completely filled up on the inside.  Shouldn't it overflow to the outside?  I'm a fanatic.. is it wrong to look like one?

lyrics from "Glow" by Britt Nicole