Ann Kiemel - Writing for The Real World

2012-01-19T10:42:00.000-08:00

cross the bridge.
watch the ribbon of winding roads.
nail down your honor. your courage.
your self-respect. carve our souls
into instruments of Your love.

because...
the clouds are bulging with rain.
the sky darkens and all there is
is a sliver of light. we are not fighting
each other, but the principalities and powers of
darkness. lace up your boots. stomp your feet.
march with the rhythm of Christ's glory. wave the
flags. join the parade.

let's sing and shout and throw our arms
toward the Heavens. put on your helmets of
salvation. march with the
Drummer. can you hear the roar
of millions following Him to the
celestial city? they are there. undaunted.

let the clouds burst and rain pour.
let the mud fill your (our) boots. no matter.
we are champions. warriors. and the bombshells
of life cannot squeeze our souls, or shrivel
our futures.

Jesus is our Victor.
He approached the woman at the well. He
asked for a drink and how many husbands she had.

"I don't have any husbands."

Jesus said, "yes. you have had five husbands
and are living with a man. this water will satisfy
you for awhile, but my water will fill you for life.

she told everyone she knew:
"you must come to the well and meet the Man
who told me everything about me."

Jesus does. He knows all the pieces of who we
are. He is the lead Warrior, and our Hope
and Peace. He loves us inspite of all we
aren't that we should be.

pour rain. pour,
and cover and cleanse us
from all our sins. You are our
Prince of peace. the only ONE who
can unravel our complexities; stop the
pounding of our hearts...and soothe our
fears with Your gracious presence of mercy.

shine, Glory, shine.
You are the One who holds us
together when we are frayed and falling
apart, and in desperate need of acceptance
and love.

cover us with your Blood.
in every vein and artery, and
our souls. cover us, Lord, cover us.

2012-01-06T15:33:00.000-08:00

i don't know what you all did new year's eve
and new years, but i was at a friend's house
with two dogs, two cats, and my grandbaby, colben,
12 months old.

brandt and jasmine have a pit bull that, as of this moment,
has no manners when entering someone else's home. he
bounded through the door. headed straight for casey's
(golden retriever) food bowl, and as I watched in horror,
he ate every bite of casey's bowl of food. threw it all up,
and pooped the minute brandt put him on the back patio
so as to clean up the barf.

my friend was taking her mother somewhere for the
weekend, and i know she must have thought the house
would be levelled when she returned. i was close to
the same thoughts.

i put a leash on casey. bundled my dollbaby colben in
a white knit cap and tights and sweater...and locked
jr. (pitbull) out back, howling and barking, and we
headed to the park to throw balls for casey to retrieve.
hanging onto colben in his new little van shoes, and
casey's leash, we walked and played and came home.
colben never whined or wanted to be picked up.

before we even got close to the house, we could hear jr.
howling. i unleashed casey, and got jr., holding on with all
the strength i had. leashed him, took colben's hand, and
out the door we go to give jr. some fresh air. he would
wrap the leash around colben and me, and start to bound
off, about to decapitate the baby and me. he would
plant these giant, wet licks over colbens face, who would
close his eyes, and then continue walking. his little feet
moving with no effort.

two trips to the park,
and colben, with milk in his sippy cup, laid down and
did not move for almost three hours.

finally, after two hours, jr. began to calm down, and
he and casey bonded. buddies. everywhere they went,
side by side. all of us survived, and by the time brandt
and jasmine came for colben, all his clothes were clean.
the kitchen wiped down. the dog food up on a counter
where neither dog...nor colben...could eat it.

by the time karen returned the next day, you would never
know that we ALL ended up in her bad the night before
(i washed all her bedding), and casey had her water and
food back in place. she did not have any idea that colben
had been in all her kitchen drawers, or that jr. peed on
her office rug.

james 4:7
"submit yourself then to God.
resist the devil and he will flee from you."

2011 was such a difficult one for me. the devil
chased me everywhere. so...my Scripture verse
for the new year is in james. not only are we warriors,
GOD is the ultimate Warrior. and i'm done letting
the devil mess with me. i love you all. stand strong.
praise God in All circumstances. and i will speak
to you next week.

2012-01-01T06:02:00.000-08:00

i love Jesus.
as we approach 2012. our only real hope is
NOTHING but the Blood of Jesus,

pour it over us. in our hair and down into our souls. and
through our fingertips. let the Blood run into our rivers and
creeks, and the roaring oceans that seem to hold the universe
together. may the waters cleanse us and prepare us for
the good and the bad...the easy and the difficult...the losses and
the gains. and may NO ONE think that ANYTHING other than
the Blood of Jesus is our Song. our Hope. our Stay. i share
this beautiful, pristine and lovely writing of a man who grasped
the shining glory of God. God, Who holds all things in the palm of His hand.

God of all time,
Who makes all things new,
we bring before you the year now ending.
For life full and good.
for opportunities recognized and taken,
for love known and shared,
we thank you.

Where we have fallen short,
forgive us,
When we worry over what is past,
free us.

As we begin again
and take our first few steps into the future,
where nothing is safe and certain,
except You,
we ask for the courage of the wise men
who simply went and followed a star.
We ask for their wisdom,
in choosing to pursue the deepest truth,
not knowing where they would be led.
In the year to come, God of all time,
be our help and company.
Hold our hand as we journey onwards
and may Your dream of Shalom,
where all will be at peace,
be our guiding star.

Francis Brienen

My love and best for 2012. ann

2011-12-21T10:24:00.000-08:00

i've been crawling around with the devil
on my back. kicking and swatting at him...
and carried down the swollen banks of darkness
by hanging on to a scratch of Jesus' robes.

slap the drums.
dance with the choir.
out of deep desolation and sinking
despair, hold on to the Ship. the Song.
the ONLY One who knows how to bind our
wounds and keep our dreams from seeping out
of broken places and being swept away from our vision.

i have been so discouraged.
dark and late, with heavy fog, i ran my car into
a center divider. ruined my two left tires and wheels
and leaving the custom-made rims cracked...
it sits at a body shop while i wonder how i'll pay
for the coverage.

my children are spread far apart. two of them work
over the Christmas week-end. one is in dallas. another
in monterey bay finishing his college degree in film, and
has a full-time job. we are all short on money. it's complicated
and we are so close and Christmas is about being together.
and we always have been until now.

several weeks ago, i opened my front door and thought
the devil himself had walked in. someone i didn't know.
and it was the fiercest, darkest spiritual attack i'd ever
experienced. i would lie on the floor at the foot of my bed,
and ask God WHY i had to try and survive this?!!
oh, the Blood of Jesus. He covered it and reigns the Victor.

quiet the drums. the music.
settle into the roar of silence. so quiet we can hear
the air and smell the noise of the breeze against our
skin...

"though the fig tree
does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vine...
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food...
though there are no sheep in the pen,
and no cattle in the stalls...
YET i will rejoice in the Lord...i will be
joyful in God my Savior...
the Sovereign Lord is my strength.
He enables me to go to the heights."
habakkuk 3:17-18

inspite of all our broken pieces,
and the yearnings over our children and
grandbabies, remember to love and help the poor.
to have love radiating on our faces. and know...
just absolutely KNOW...that God will always be
enough.

have a beautiful Christmas, and know that i'm really
a failure in keeping blogs up to date, BUT i truly love
you. my children are recipients of your vast love. you
make us better and richer. ann

2011-11-04T15:24:00.000-07:00

roll, oceans, roll.
run rivers run.
purge and cleanse and redeem
us of all the untouched places within
ourselves.

it is only a dark, tiny fist.
locked against the vast, washed sky
of clear mornings and rolling sunsets.

yep!
a tiny fist that takes the glory
of life and the victories promised
right out of the core of all we are and
wish to be. that keeps us stuck and sick.
crooked in our bent. our yearning.

i'm not sure all of you know that almost
two years ago, i went to the gym and ran 15 miles.
that evening i was invited to a home for dinner before
flying out the next day for alabama and a special
event in my honor.

walking out of this home, i tripped, fell and shattered
my left femur and broke my hip. i knew about pain,
but NOT this kind of agony. bone pain wins.
leg swelled three times its normal,
skinny size. i genuinely thought doctors had
transplanted my leg from a corpse in the morgue.
but...

i thrived. that's my m.o...
nurses lined up and watched me fly down the
hall on my walker. i never had to go to a physical
therapy facility. however, suffering became my moan
and plea for relief.

over two weeks ago,
with a rod from my knee to my
hip bone...and screws and pins...
i decided i had to face that little, tiny fist of
blurred struggle planted in my soul. it is not
EVER the SIZE of corruption; just
the fact that it exists.

though i was taking mild pain meds, i knew
how God had once delivered me, and i wanted to see
if i could make it. pill free. checking into a 5-day
detox center, the pain pills were cleansed out of
my system, and i was sent home. i was left with
agonizing pain. insides raw. all endorphins
gone; with weeks to be rejuvenated.
Jesus and i and that tiny speck. doing business.
tough business.

i don't know how to explain this kind of pain.
nothing to soothe the fire that was subdued by
meds. i only know that my enemy is subtle.
slick and smooth in making us believe those
little rocks of trouble that grow in us are easily
wished away. that they are nothing.

so...my dear friends...
just check and evaluate. is there
a little, seemingly-inocuous fist planted
somewhere in you. take the leap.
remember courage isn't generated from
within us. courage is a gift from God.

roll, oceans, roll.
run, rivers, run.
until we are purified
and ready for the great things
You have for our tomorrow.

many of you are way ahead of me.
don't have this scratch of darkness.
pray for us who do. i genuinely
love you all, and pray you will forgive
me for my first blog in two months.
just trying to do my
Master's business.
i deeply love you all.

shine stars. shine on.
i already hear the music.

2011-08-09T14:53:00.000-07:00

i had one of those dreams you
don't ever want to awaken from. I was, say
28 yrs. old. lithe and willowy and dressed in
wrinkled linen. a flower pinned in my hair.
a large room. somewhere in the south. packed
crowd who had hired my father to be their pastor.
that frightened me because he was so human.
so...i smiled. radiantly. holding a beautiful, frizzy-
haired little girl that we, as a family, had adopted...and
adored. love rained down. and i felt ebbulliant. captured
with joy. of course, my father had not spoken yet.

george clooney was even in the dream. eyes focused
on me. flirting. obviously, a fantasy. i haven't ever...even...
dreamed of a movie star. nor has one, i'm positive,
ever dreamed of me.

the sun slid into my bedroom.
spilling the reality that night was done.
over. and i awakened to reality. i am no
longer young. my children are 22, 23, 26, 27.
my hair has to be high-lighted. often, i am yanking
little white hairs from their roots.

the most beautiful, shivering joy that remains
unmarred is my pure passion for Jesus...and my
sons. every day, i search for opportunities to speak
the name of Jesus. so much POWER in just saying
His Name. and my children? i am the
richest lady on earth because i get to be the mother
of taylor, brock, colson, and brandt. we have had
so many hardships that not even silly contradictions
among us quiver with the raw, tight, coarse rope of love
that binds us. uh-huh!!! when one of my sons calls, and
i am on my way out the door. arms loaded with stuff, and
lots to get done. i stop. drop everything to the floor.
plop down. and listen. silently praying for God to guide
me in advising them. God's given us so MANY answers
and promises in those moments.

if you are younger than 55 yrs. of age,
listen to those who have walked much farther
down the road. shhhh. listen. hear the rushing
water of lessons learned. let the roar of trouble
lead you to those who have lived long enough
to know the ways of God. roar, waters, roar. then...
quiet us so we can hear and see and brush the
troubles far enough beyond us that the
music becomes a choir.

please forgive this blog.
i typed an original story of hope,
and realized that only the first few lines
were all that took hold. everything else was gone. disappeared.

don't let magnificent dreams
excuse you from the adventures
that can only be learned by the laid out
footprints of rugged, holy living. remember,
dreams can only live if they first die. and
sunrises come when we finally lay down our
sorrows, and keep our faces turned skyward.

Jesus lives. Jesus lives.
hallelujah, He reigns.

2011-07-08T14:25:00.000-07:00

is someone reading this blog
have a perfect child? or someone who
believes he or she has perfected a piece of living?
being a parent. or wife. or writer or pro football player?

because,
i want to meet you or your child.
just to see what pefection looks like.

all my life, i have wanted to be perfect for
Jesus. strong enough to see my father happy
because, somehow, my brother would become
a Christian. and protect jan, my twin, from harm.
i vowed, in my young adult mind and heart, to never
disappoint the Lord. you know. to stand strong and faithful.
to stay pure until marriage. have an amazing relationship with
my husband, and deliver babies that were going to set the
world on fire for Jesus.

well, my babies were just about perfect. and
today, they are strong. resilient. unbelieveably
precious to me. but they are special because of
Jesus. never ever have i parented perfectly. and
NEVER will they make it without deep devotion to
the Savior. uh-huh...i've failed in almost everything
i had vowed before God to be.

BECAUSE WE ARE ALL BROKEN,
yep, every one of us.

but,
every morning, the sun rises.
every evening it slowly dips down
and touches the long, often golden horizon.

when we need food or friends or a touch
of sunrise in our lives, He provides. comes through.
makes a way. not because we are perfected.
NEVER. just because He so LOVES us. He tells us
to not seek great things for ourselves. that He loves
the meek and the broken. that He understands we are
dust. He knows our frame.

so, for all of you today,
living with the repercussions of disobedience
and sin, i sing to you. a beautiful song. of love and
redemption and the pure chords of deliverance.
you will find the music by reading psalm 91, the Living Bible.

i have messed up alot.
have gotten lost and confused.
but i know it is my difficult journey that
draws us together. i love you. let us sing
the song together. and listen for the roar of the
oceans and see the giant redwoods and laugh with
friends over even silly things, and utterly understand
that nothing is too hard for God. He lives. oh, yes,
He lives.

2011-06-05T11:35:00.000-07:00

i believe.
i believe.

i believe when the sun
is not shining. when my prayers
seem unanswered. when i am misjudged
by others. when the rains come, and the
rivers are swollen, and my life is torn by
pain and inadequacy.

i believe that my children
will never be disappointed by God.
that what i have tried to live out for them,
and teach them, will stand steadfast in their
darkest hours. their entire lives.
that His love will pursue them in places
shadowed by disobedience or failure.

i believe that God is love.
and when i am weak and broken and sinful,
He still celebrates my life. that my sins are
really buried in the deepest, dark places of
cold oceans and seas. vanished and forgotten.
that He is so good and so omnipotent that He never
sways in His love for us.
never. ever. ever.

i believe that God makes up
for all our injustices. that if we have faith,
as tiny as a speck of sand, He will honor it.
He will expand our horizons, and surprise us
with beautiful tomorrows.

i believe that a clear, morning sky
and a stunning, setting sun are God's
creations. that He is greater than all earthly
boundaries, and the Heaven of heavens.
He cannot be contained.

i believe in faith.
in the simple confidence that
God is who He says He is. and
that He will do everything He promises.

i believe in dreams.
that God plants them in our hearts.
and if we never, ever give up,
they will live. that we should stand,
and turn our faces to the sky. and lift our
arms. and shout and yell. and cheer and dance
because He is a glorious God. who loves to give
His children good gifts.

i believe we are in a Race.
all running, side-by-side. along
the often narrow and chastising road,
to the Celestial city. i believe we should
grab hands. and pick each other up when
we fall, and whisper hope even when our
spirits are down and we are weary of the
twists and turns of life.

i believe that if we abide in Him, He will
abide in us, and mountains will quiver and
be leveled. and paths will open through the
deserts. and we can walk on water, and not
drown.

YES!
i believe.
in a Savior who lived and died for our sins.
and because of Him, we are free. free. untangled
and delivered from ourselves and our addictions.

"how precious is the Flow
that washes white as snow...
no other Fount I know.
nothing but the Blood of Jesus..."
(old hymn of the church)

please.
believe, too.

"i have finished the Race.
i have kept the faith." 2 timothy 4:7

2011-05-17T18:10:00.000-07:00

i looked, and found, a
celebrate recovery group close by.
the Christian version of AA. for me,
when i attend a meeting, i go to do
WORK. on myself. my struggles. my
bent to addictions of performance and
praise and pain pills. i call it doing
BUSINESS.

this night,
there was a new woman in
the group so we went around to
introduce ourselves. the circle came
to me.

hi! i'm ann.
an addict. and
probably, like each of you,
genuinely broken by life,
and my human bent to
fix things on my own terms.

sharing started.
my name is....., and i am
a shoplifter, with many convictions
behind me. i need prayer as i get
ready to go before the judge with my
latest offense.

next:
i am an alcoholic,
among other things. i am
really struggling. every night,
God says to me, "go to bed
with your husband."
but i like this t.v. program. or...
i'm not tired. or...i just don't want to.
God keeps calling me, and i keep resisting.

my name is lindsay (not real name).
i'm an addict with an anger problem.
pregnant, and very impatient with my
three year old daughter. my husband
comes in from work. blood-shot eyes.
tense. exhausted. not always very nice,
either. i need prayer. i just know how
hard it is going to be when this baby comes,
and i'll also have a toddler running around.

it is quiet.
earnest. big, black boots
of fear and failure and terror start
rolling around. stomping.
making noise inside our heads. telling us
to be quiet. that the great shame that
owns us needs to stay inside us.

my name is rosie. i'm an alcoholic. i've hooked
up with EHARMONY because i don't want to
be alone the rest of my life, but then i keep
asking myself if any guy will want me if they
know of the gay relationships in my past.
tears glistening in her eyes.

all of us so broken that we cannot
imagine even holding the mildest judgement
toward each other in the circle.

a tiny seam of light flickers. the whisper
that deliverance can be ours. God promises...if
we fully grasp that we are POWERLESS in and of
ourselves...and look to Him, the ONLY Power greater
than ourselves...then we can find hope. we are all enslaved, and Jesus,
beautiful and pure, listens. to our ragged, raw breathing
slicing through the thick enslavement of ourselves.

well, i am ann.
i flew to a speaking date
last week, and instead of
receiving my negotiated fee with
the speakers' bureau, the sponsor coldly handed
me a check that was just pitance for my
flying across the country to speak. i
was rushed out of the large church,
tears streaming down my face. stunned.
hurt. no, devastated. i'm struggling financially,
but worse was the feeling that i wasn't worthy
of my assignment. never once, in my thirty-plus year
career of speaking and writing, had this happened.
i feel like a worm. no good. as with
others, tears began to balance on the lids of my
eyes, and i was trying to hold onto them. to NOT
reveal how deep this wound felt.

psalm 91:1, 2, 4, 14, 15
"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty....
He will cover you with His feathers, and
under His wings you will find refuge;
His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart...
I will deliver him and honor him..."

keep marching, warriors.
do not let fatigue and failure
lure you to hopelessness.
the Son shines for us. the warmth
healing our deepest hurts and failures.

ann kiemel anderson

2011-05-05T16:47:00.000-07:00

colson berry anderson
married christina, and took,
as his own, her beautiful, baby daughter.
in a small cove by ocean waves above san
francisco.

brandt, his brother, was best man.
and i held my one grandbaby, colben,
sitting next to my first daughter-in-law,
jasmine.

taylor and brock were proud of both
their younger brothers. speaking love
and commitment to them. i sat, with humble
gratitude at the amazing way God's vast love and
grace have followed us through so many beautiful
AND tumultuous years as a family.

roar, oceans, roar,
shine, glistening sun, shine.
and may rewards come.....and
surprises live....as we toil,
day in and day out of our ordinary lives,
tangled in extraordinary adventures and
struggles.

i'm a softie as a mom.
will believed that almost everything should
be absolute, and i have always held to only a few
absolutes, but many negotiables.
two years ago, colson was home. smart. clever.
a genius as a salesman and a writer, but he wasn't
going anywhere. he announced, one day, that he was
moving back to modesto. another quick decision.

okay, colson.
but you cannot come home when it gets tough.
i spoke with tears in my eyes, and silent prayers of
deep resolve. one evening, he called.

mom, it is pouring rain, and i am
cold and hungry and i have no money. will you
please come and get me?

oh, honey, i'm sorry. i'm just walking into a
prayer class. find a bathroom somewhere, and
get on your knees and pray. tell Jesus what you need.

YOU MEAN YOU ARE NOT GOING TO COME GET ME?!!!
you are going to LEAVE me here like this?!!!

tears running down my face, i calmly said,
yes, darling. it is just you and Jesus out there.
today, he tells a sad story (makes me feel horror and pride)
of being homeless. sleeping on a bench some nights.
it was the most difficult, hands down, task I had EVER taken
on. forcing colson to find his way in this big, hard world.

he went to colorado. via train. for awhile.
back to modesto. a hard worker. had good jobs.
and when anyone peeled back the rough exterior, there
could not be a sweeter, more honest and loving heart than
colson's. he KNEW God. he had a moral conscience. and
he would vulnerably confess things to me. i would chew the
inside of my gums, but be silent while he talked. hugging and
kissing him after, and reminding him that some day, i felt he
would run my ministry of dreams and changing the world
for Jesus.

well, colson perservered. and i did.
i loved and pushed and prayed. hanging onto his shirt
for all my might, but not letting him come home except for
a family get-together or a week-end. and i would cry and cry.
but he could not hear me.
he did not know. God was
helping me make a man out of my son.

so, when april 23 came, and colson, with christina's father's,
and my blessing, married, i threw balloons through the air.
i laughed at the sun. i danced on all the trials and sins and temptations
colson had conquered, and i wrapped my arms around another
beautiful daughter-in-law and a new, grandbaby girl. buying her
ballerina slippers and lots of pink.

and i knew that my son, and i,
and his brothers, understood
better than ever before, that Jesus died and lives and
always, always, always promises
bright, happy tomorrows after the
darkness of hardships.

glorious Savior.
beautiful grace.
the glory of motherhood, and the suffering, too.
believe! believe! believe!
stay on course and watch the lip of the horizon
as it rises and sets, finally, on your dreams.

2011-03-17T16:15:00.000-07:00

hit the wall.
drop the jar.
touch a hot iron.

listen to the noise of chaos.
hear the cries of pain.
feel the torch of rejection.

and stand. quiet and still.
feet flat on the ground.
paint the glory of the Cross
on your forehead. your breath
even and calm while life shakes
and rattles around you.

nothing about growth and faith
and hardship is easy.
nothing.

it is late Saturday night.
my day started with the early
service at church. then, lunch with
a friend.
and a quick drive to san francisco
to see jan. whatever positive and beautiful
and kind that I could put into today is over.

did i smile at those around me?
grab a warm hand and squeeze it?
feel no judgement for anyone?
only love and compassion and hope?

we live in such a critical, judgemental
society. and more Christians are addicted
to judgement than anyone else in the secular
world.

life can rattle and shake
all around us, but Jesus is our Conqueror.
our steadfast Hope. the music of His songs
still the waters and renew our urgent
longing for deliverance from ourselves.

remember,
we are warriors. Jesus is our passion.
and we march together. deliverance shines
on our faces.

i love the artistic, beautiful, little house
i rent from my friends whose
large house in front is theirs.

and, yes, i am hopelessly smitten with my
three month old grandbaby. my daughter-in-law,
who i truly love, is being deployed to dubais for
four months (brandt was deployed to bagdad a year ago),
and i get to take care of colben. he has a head of
black curls. smiles. blows bubbles. and tries to
carry on a conversation. all at 3 months.

let's not judge anyone.
love is the ONLY hope.
love! so simple and clean and
pure. always believing God has
the real picture of all our hearts so
He can do the judging and we can
love unconditionally.

fight the good fight.
stay the course.
i love you.

proverbs 3:5-6

2011-03-09T15:32:00.000-08:00

gushing with God's love.
running the race for His glory.
with all of you at my side.

the wilderness comes and goes.
but God has amazing surprises that
restore us and keep the passion alive.

the sky sometimes darkens.
the holes we fall into can be very deep.
very hard to crawl out of.

but...God...glorious God.
He is our story. He is our joy. He is
our perfection in brokenness. He does
the miracles. He creates the music.

i know. i have lived long enough
to see the miracles.
to watch the sunrise.
to see the seemingly-impossible
live. from holes to mountain peaks.

i love each of you.
this is our Race.
the Runner we are following is
Jesus.

never give up. never let fear rule.
never take credit
for victories. never forget to praise
the One who forces the desert and wide, lonely
places to clash into honor and wisdom
and celebration.

love wins.
not judgement.
not pride.
not criticism.
LOVE.

today,
if you don't know how
you will pay the bills. or
how you can conquer your
addictions. or how one of your
children is going to make it.
or how to turn loss to gain...
i can promise you that, with God,
you can. i've run way down
the road...and i have seen
the victories and
heard the music shattering
our feeble faith.

God looks at our hearts.
He asks that we keep them with
all diligence.

today, i don't notice people's externals.
with my children, i care only about their
hearts. the rest is periphery.

"everyone who competes for the prize
is temperate in all things..."

"therefore, i run thus; not with
uncertainty. thus i fight. not as one
who beats the air. but i beat my body
and bring it into subjection, lest, when
i have preached to others, i myself should
become disqualified."

I Timothy 4:16
I Corinthians 9:26, 27

on my most difficult days,
i remember you all are with me.
grab hands and never let go.

2010-12-24T08:21:00.000-08:00

it is almost Christmas eve.
please forgive me for not communicating
with you, my fellow warriors and friends,
since right before Thanksgiving.
my first grandbaby, Colben William Anderson,
was born on Thanksgiving day. NOW, i know,
what one feels when your children have a baby.
something so beautiful and pure and...it levels
life out in some miraculous way. all of us...my other
sons and jasmine's brother and mother and i were
all with her through labor and delivery. yes, through
the entire process, we stood and watched this
unforgettable event.

this is such a difficult time for so many.
i have felt so deep under the waters of struggle
and concern that it has made me, literally, put
one foot in front of the other. telling myself,
"just keep moving." pain squeezes our ability
to remember what we have. we are so consumed
by what we don't have. none the less, pain becomes
a gift. it is by gulping a breath of air in the dark waters
of the soul that we realize joy when it does happen.

my book proposal has been sent to all
main publishers. several wanted to negotiate
immediately IF i would just write like the rest of
the world. with full punctuation. conforming with
all the other books in the store. as desperate
as i am for income, i just can't, overnight, decide
to do this. so i wait. wondering how God is
going to accomplish this process. i am so fiercely
open and vulnerable and unveiling that i just
can't decide this overnight. please pray re: this.

wherever you are, today, remember that there
are masses around you that are fragile and devastated
and almost paralyzed by the economy. or with
lost and prodigal children. no income to buy those
they love gifts. shaken by those that won't forgive
or need forgiveness.

this has been the most difficult time for me.
so i am especially touched by those who walk
by. moved by the pain i see etched behind their
half smiles.

Jesus says, "fear not!"
He reminds us that His arm is NEVER too
short to help us. His mercies endure forever.

please forgive this rough blog. from my
heart to this page. no matter HOW hard i've
tried to put together something beautiful for
everyone to read, i have felt too broken myself
to process it all. i love you all. we ARE warriors.
we will NEVER give up. for the King of Glory
will come in.

a beautiful, miraculous Christmas to you all.
i gave a beautiful, little, crippled mexican woman
my dryer.

"i pay you $50. that enough, missus."

"you don't need to right now."

"no, i pay you missus."

her nephews came in and carried
it out to her little red truck.

as she hobbled to hand me the cash,
her face shining, i said,
"elaudia, i won't take your money."

"yes, missus..."

"no, merry Christmas. remember Jesus
really loves you." and i hugged and kissed her.

i had $25 in my account. no idea HOW i was even
going to feed all my children coming home. stark terror.
i was reading in my room when i heard my cell phone,
and knew i had a message.

"ann, i just put $600 in your acct...for Christmas
or rent or whatever you need." mark and julie

$50 given away. $600 given back from God.
without me telling anyone of my seeming devastation.
so GIVE everyone. in whatever way you can. God
will NEVER let you outgive Him. i love you, ann.

2010-11-19T15:17:00.000-08:00

forgive my whining and groaning
about the dmv, and flunking the tests.
oh, please forgive. today, i walked in,
went straight to the counter, no studying.
and passed. hands down.

forgive someone you know you have
a grudge against. make the real power
of the glorious Cross worth what Jesus did.

forgive your children. human and struggling
and losing their ways and trying to find themselves
maybe in all the wrong ways. without forgiving, you
cannot genuinely listen and love and be creative
in how you express their beauty and value to you.

and...
forgive yourselves.
i am ruthless with myself.
my failures and flaws are lined up,
side by side, stamped on the walls
of my closest and hidden places of
my heart.

a dear friend
told me the other night that
she covers for me when certain
people at the church are always
critical and judgemental of me.

why tell me that?
now i know i have all these people
who have negative opinions about me.
i slip into the service.
sit wherever there is a chair.
smile and greet a few people as i leave,
i have a few great friends there, but not
alot. why do people have negative opinions
of me? i don't vie for attention. make a scene.
it's so hard to have perspective with this.

i love that old song that pleads for sinners.
"just as i am,
without one plea...
but that thy Blood was shed for me...
oh, Lamb of God, i come. i come.

just as i am,
and waiting not
to rid my soul of one dark blot...to Thee
whose Blood can cleanse each spot...
oh, Lamb of God, i come."

when things get muddy
in our brains, and some things
run together and scramble our
perspective, know that deliverance
most often comes through forgiveness.

drawing so much strength from all
of you who love me and send me beautiful
words...love, ann

2010-11-17T15:16:00.000-08:00

today i went to the dmv.
you know. a BIG room filled
with dozens and dozens of people.
long lines. hard, plastic chairs.
numbers being called. over and over
and over.

someone,
looking at my driver's license,
said,

ann, your license is
expired. did you know?

usually, the dmv notifies
people a couple months ahead,
and you respond, and they mail
you a new license. same picture.
the man sitting next to me today,
at the dmv for a different reason,
showed me his driver's license.
now, partly bald and gray...with
his picture from twenty years ago.

i was only told today that i would
need a new picture. as soon as
they snapped it, and i paid my
$31, they handed me a written
test, and told me to go to a cubicle
and take it.

a TEST?
a CALIFORNIA driver's test?!!!
before i moved to california, i never
got anything but a perfect 100% on
my dmv tests. but...
here, they have seven different tests.
and if you miss more than three on one,
they give you a different sheet...clear
down to number seven.

i'm insecure about ALOT of things,
but not my intelligence. no! i'm NOT
brilliant, but can usually hold my own.

without a chance to even look
at a book, and study alittle, i was
handed a pencil and pushed away.
it didn't seem that hard, but all those
questions, and only three misses
allowed. and slipped inbetween the
easier ones, were these sneaky,
insignificant, benign and ambiquous
questions that had at least two choices
that seemed viable.

well, i flunked.
five wrong.
and i was not about
to go home and come another
day.

taking the paper book, i sat down
on the only chair in the entire room,
by a cubicle, and was madly combing
through the pages. making everything...
every little detail...stick. when,
suddenly, a loud voice said,

ma'mm!

i looked up.

yes, YOU! what are you doing
sitting in the testing area with the
study guide?

well, there were no other chairs, and
i was waiting for my number to be called,
and cramming for the test....

go to the over side!
did you hear me?
away from the testing area.

tears in my eyes.
do you have to scream at me?
i looked around, and EVERYONE
in the entire room was looking at me.

you are embarassing me.

and suddenly, my number was
called again. almost NO time, again,
to gather my thoughts.

in the end,
i failed all three times.
by one extra mistake.
i have to return, pay again,
and face my shame and terror.

and i plan to return TOMORROW.
after the gym tonight, i will study
that little book until i know it all.
and with great intrepidation, i am
praying that Jesus helps me.

"Jesus loves me,
this I know...
for the Bible tells me so.
little ones to Him belong.
they are weak, but He is strong..."

wherever you are today,
know that you are loved.
that we all fail. are all broken.
sometimes can graduate with honors
from a great university, and still
flunk drivers' tests. i love you. ann

proverbs 3:5-6

2010-10-26T17:20:00.000-07:00

"my friend helped me FIND the lost blog..."

dear warriors,
my new blog vanished
from the screen of my computer.
in a second, gone. thrown out
by the complication of computers
that i am truly, mentally-challenged
by. my dear friend, debbie shea, will
try to find it. any one of my sons could
help me in a second. but every one of
my four sons is either doing papers for
classes or sleeping or driving to a
job.

so, i sit here at my computer,
lost and dismayed and sad.
take Jesus with you today.
remember to forgive. as i strive
to do the same. because forgiveness
is the essence of the Cross. there is
NO hope for any of us if we choose to
judge and hold onto our wounds.

2010-09-21T15:43:00.000-07:00

quiet.
the last gun firing.
the air clean and clear.
peace from years of enduring
and surviving and falling into
holes and being delivered.
pulled out and standing on
firm ground.

that is how i feel today.
my chapters of the new book
are done. no one can imagine
how unveiling and revealing i was
about the last 14 years of wilderness
and sorrow and struggle and survival.

laying out.
piece by piece.
my failures. the story of
my bereft marriage, and how
Jesus led us to deliverance.
of my four beautiful sons.
of their bold courage for me
to tell of their adolescence
and our survival. single
parenting. a path no one
could truly understand unless
one has walked this journey, too.

FINALLY,
i have begun to really understand
the Race. what it means to be a
soldier. a warrior. all for Jesus.
to lose and gain. to run and stumble.
to fall and be picked up. to forgive.
and be forgiven. to hold on to and
to let go. to swim and almost
drown. to grab ahold of an unseen
Hand and be rescued. to dare to
believe. REALLY trust. when
there is no money for rent. from
wealth to poverty. to not forget
those around us. never. on the
darkest day, to reach beyond.
all the pain. the self-absorption.

to run with your children. to hang
on to their shirts. to pray rather than
scream. yell. stomp around in fear.
to love them completely. their youth
and insecurity. their lost places. the
journey. the stuff that has made us
more than family. more than soldiers.

we are WARRIORS.
five of us. always watching
each other's back. standing
together. through loss and confusion.
anger and frustration. dusting
ourselves off. back on course.
rage and sorrow. and deliverance.

to you.
my dearest comrades.
pray as the proposal of my
book goes to main publishers
via my agent. please understand.
i will not give my story away easily.
when you have fought and won.
when the darkest sky is being lit
by a shred of sun. and our wounds
are laid on the ground. for all to see.
and my children and i stand.
faces clean and radiant. God's
vast power over darkness. and
we have learned to stare fear and
terror in the face. because of our
Lord.

living costs a price. for
all of you. and me and mine.
pray for this story. yours
and mine. and for God's
glorious Redemption.

romans 8:28

2010-08-18T14:27:00.001-07:00

"trust in the Lord with ALL
your heart: do not depend on
your own understanding.
seek His will in all you do, and
He will direct your path."
proverbs 3:5-6 new living translation.

oh, Jesus, sing.
i need to hear the music.
of all the millions who have gone
before me. who have embraced
Your heart. and seen You in all Your
glory.

Jesus, sing your songs
of deliverance. pound out
the keys of victory and triumph.
always room for one more. always
room at the foot of the Cross.

Jesus,
i am a woman.
a single mother of four.
a recovering addict of pain
pills and addiction. broken
and twisted by my own insecuri-
ties. my willful bent toward perfection.
sing to me, Jesus. sing.

"oh, cleansing Stream...
i see, i see, i plunge, and
oh, It cleanses me."
i dive into the warmth of Your
Presence. yearn to be pure.
yes, Jesus, pure.

we are warriors.
dishelvelled by insecurity
and human rebellion.
but i march.
one. two. three.
blistered by boots that rub
against my bruised ankles of
self and pity.

yes, i am a sinner. saved by Grace.
the pulsing heart of Jesus. stretched
across the rugged Cross. Your torture
for our sins. oh, beautiful, amazing
Cross. arise, you who doubt.
arise.

yes, Jesus, sing for us.
we are listening for the
strains from Heaven. music
of victory over defeat.
yes, Jesus, sing.

2010-07-12T17:30:00.000-07:00

quiet. hush.
another warrior..
soldier of the Cross..
has just stepped over
into Heaven.

another nail of victory
has been pounded into the
rough-hewn Cross of our
Redeemer.
faithful to the end.
endured the shame.
walked the walk. unwavering.

monica went to bed, and
awakened in Heaven.
no more weight struggles.
no more program.
no more diets.
no more brokenness
and concern
over her children.
no more fears over her
money situation. free and
delivered and victorious and
stamped with the Blood of
Christ. in Heaven forever and ever
and ever and ever. completely
whole.

hush. quiet.
do you hear the angels'
choir? the roar of melody
across the Heavens for another
child who has defeated death and
darkness?

i'll miss you, monica.
i've always loved you.
welcome Home, faithful
servant.

fellow soldiers.
march. stamp your
boots to the sound of
our glorious Savior Who
will someday bring us Home,
too. stand tall. grab my
hand. know my love for you.
i am weak and broken and
utterly imperfect, too.

"Savior, like a Shepherd lead
us..." sing with me. hear
the breath of God as He hovers
over us. "much we need Thy
tender care"...yes, Jesus, yes.
we need You. yearn for You.
our boots are muddied. our souls
tarnished with self and indecision
and fear.

"precious Jesus, precious Jesus...
Thou has bought us, Thine we are.."
yes. Lord.
THINE! all Thine.
amen. amen.

hush, quiet.
listen to the soothing
music of the angels' choir
as they shepherd us for
Heaven. like they did for
monica.

2010-07-02T11:46:00.000-07:00

rest. warriors. rest.
listen. hear the crushing music.
feel the earth shift as broken sons and
daughters, empty and now, triumphant, rise
from the ashes of deep affliction and
searing pain. see the victorious and
cleansed as they rise out of the
ashes.

listen. quiet.
a new song. radiating from
hallowed corners of a reckless, and
calloused world. choirs. with raised
hands to the Savior of the universe. the
only One who understands the correct chords
and rhythmic chanting of the lost and
struggling and redeemed.

stand.
shout.
paint across the sunrise your
deliverance from the cold wilderness
and deep waters from which you've come.
trace the arc of a rainbow. the promise of
beautiful, happy tomorrows.

sitting by my sister's bedside.
a hospital in berkeley, ca.
chemo and a stem-cell transplant
accomplished. courage oozing
out her fingertips. her eyes. running
down her cheeks. wet with triumph
in spite
of illness that has taken her to death's door.
suddenly, her white cells rising.
a miracle. dreams really can live.
thank you all for praying. for standing
by us. sharing in the victory.

i left jan's side
to fly to irvine, ca. to keynote the
international convention for exodus.
gays and ex-gays reaching for peace
of mind and spirit in a brutal environment
of judgement and condemnation. trying
to do God's will. to understand truth.

for me, attempting to share
pure, untarnished love that promises
healing for any and everyone's
woundedness; kissing the deep scars of
shattering isolation. embracing their pain
as they did mine.

i am not gay.
i only know that the complexities
in them match, on a different level, those
in me. i know what the Bible says. and
i filter that through the loving heart of God
who calls all of us to rest. to lying by still
waters. Jesus remembers we are made of
dust. He understands our frame.
(ps. 103:14)

home at last.
regrouping with my children.
heading for the gym, and a fast,
racing six miles. my eyes filling
with tears as the gal behind the check-in
desk crawled over the counter
close enough to hug and kiss me,
and i, her. two single mothers
collide with love and commonality.

i love you, fellow warriors.
run the Race.
breathe even
with the consolation
that you will never
be alone.

2010-06-08T13:30:00.000-07:00

it was thursday.

my oldest son, home

from college for the summer.

we headed for the gym.

all my children and i love

the deliverance that a good

workout brings. taylor to the

weight room. i, to the cardio

area.

it was a day that put a fist

in my stomach. two miles,

and i headed toward the women's

locker area. 10p.m. barely making

it to the bathroom in time

to lose every piece of food in me.

hoping no one was there, too. listening

to my sickness.

stumbling to a sink.

cold water on my face.

when looking into the mirror,

i saw this beautiful, hispanic woman.

cleaning. a crease between her eyes.

you, okay?

her two english words.

i threw my arms around her neck.

buried my hot, wet face into her

shoulder. two women. miles and

miles apart; yet, at this exact moment,

we were bound by love. a force so powerful.

stretched across eternity by the God of

the universe.

pushing myself away from her.

what do i smell and look like?

her face warmed by kindness

and concern.

oh! love of God.

beautiful. amazing. enduring.

bound by pure, untarnished sacrifice.

the Cross. Redemption.

sing, Jesus, sing.

wipe away the darkness and

corruption. until our boundaries

are erased. and music resounds

to the breadth and magnitude of

God's passion.

i was done for the night.

sitting in the downstair's

area of the gym lobby.

beat. demolished. empty

of all pride. my feet no longer

resounding the torch of rhythm.

suddenly,

i see the same hispanic

woman. straightening chairs.

she looks up, and sees me.

her face breaks the universe

with love pulsing from her.

i return the smile. she,

motionless, and i.

miles and pain and

corruption all around us...

but cleansed.

two women.

apart. but bonded...with

powerful oneness. all because

of Jesus. His glory. His

Song.

"For I am convinced that neither

death nor life,

neither angels or demons,

neither the present nor the future,

nor any powers,

neither height nor depth,

nor anything else in all creation,

will be able to separate us

from the love of God

that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

~Romans 8:38-39

2010-05-18T17:15:00.000-07:00

copyright Judy Silverstein 2009

used by permission

pain is a gift!

it hurts. it scrapes our

egos and hearts against rock-

hard boundaries. but...

it forces us to tilt our eyes away

from ourselves to others. and

ultimately, toward the face of

God.

pain kneads in us a softening

of our rigidity. our criticisms.

our wilful bent to define our own

journey. leaving God on the sidelines.

believing ourselves far more adept

than He at putting the pieces together.

i have never marched in

the band of suffering with joy and

acceptance. in time, i start kicking and

screaming. i go from shock to an immed-

iate sense of rebellion and fear. believing

that God needs my help to peel away

this claustrophobic tightening of what i

want vs. His will of defined hardship.

i always think of brock, my second born.

standing in the door of the laundry room

where i was folding clean clothes. he had

just returned from kindergarten.

mommy,

someone said something mean

to me today.

really?

my face looked sad.

that must have really hurt

your feelings.

it did.

i folded this five year old

little wonder into my arms.

brock, life is sometimes mean

and hard, but Jesus always, in time,

fixes everything.

i am just now really coming out of

years in the wilderness. and silence.

always writing and speaking publicly

that darkness comes, BUT Jesus never

leaves us there forever. that we will always

laugh again. the sun will diffuse the

darkness. yet, this wilderness felt like

forever.

stop the pain.

turn off the sun, moon. the stars.

close all the stores. tell the policemen

to go home. paint the windows black.

today,

again, i promise you that pain is

a gift. it purifies our souls. gives God

a chance to prove Himself: that love

ALWAYS wins. miracles ARE raised

out of ashes. we can really appreciate

the gifts He has saved for us only if we

have lived with pain.

take pain's hand.

make her your friend.

believe....always...that darkness

does NOT last forever.

today,

as i read your loving comments

on facebook and my website, i

have tears. your love warms my

spirit where wounds once lived.

Jesus is my Song.

the ONLY One who can paint

beauty and purpose in our lives

if we embrace the pain, and wait

for Him to create the sunrise.

dance with me.

take my hand. i love you.

remember that God's

love binds us together.

and our acceptance of

suffering ultimately brings

God's brand new, fresh

tomorrows.

"Dear friends, do not be surprised

at the painful trials you are suffering,

as though something strange is

happening to you.

But rejoice that you participate

in the sufferings of Christ,

so that you may be overjoyed

when His glory is revealed."

~ I Peter 4:12-13 (NIV)

2010-05-06T16:53:00.000-07:00

Michelle Meiklejohn

freedigitalphotos.com

soldiers.

marching.

when our babies are

laid in our arms, there is

nothing like it. so tiny. cooing.

the smell of burped milk .

gifts of God's, to us. we

are MOTHERS!

paint our dresses yellow.

hang the flags on every post.

celebration begins!!

yet..her baby suddenly

gets more attention than ours.

or one gets the croup. nights of

walking the floor. exhaustion.

husbands and babies and the world

to impress and please and nurture.

our children go to kindergarten

and others hurt their feelings.

my oldest was in first grade.

a rainy day. i had my other three

in car seats in the back.

mommy, will you please walk me to class?

please?

and another quiet

please.

finally i took

his sweet, little hand and we

ducked the rain, and dashed into

school. i suddenly could see that

he had tears streaming down his cheeks.

i fell on the floor beside him.

i began to weep. i had not

imagined that this was such a painful

day for him. i wonder why, i thought.

and even as i type this,

my eyes are filled with tears.

every mother has some sad

memories. and somehow,

when it comes to our children,

those don't fit.

scratch them out.

wrap them in paper.

color them black, and

throw them into the river.

i wanted us to be HAPPY!

no troubles. no yelling. no spankings

by dad. warm cake at bedtime. adven-

tures. the bigger world where we all

stood on some higher level of peace

and wholeness than those around us

with all their problems.

however.

along. the. road.

every mother hits the wall

of hardship and pain and worry

and imperfection and concern.

babies become toddlers, and

toddlers grow and end up in

junior high school where hormones

start going crazy. all kinds of

things can begin happening. at eighteen,

they are supposedly adults, and making

their own choices. and NONE of us

EVER always make the right and per-

fect decisions.

my children are my rising sun and setting

sky; my moon and stars and quiet, evening

breeze. my four sons are my everything.

and i believe every mother reading this feels

the same about her children.

but they aren't perfect. don't always make

right choices just as we didn''t and don't.

motherhood has thrown me on my face.

across the carpet of my bedroom floor, and

taught me to PRAY. a mother weeping over

her children.

i love the line,

forgiveness is an act of worship.

mostly forgiving ourselves.

forgiving all the tense moments

when we could have handled our

children better. forgiving all our imper-

fections when we started out sure we

would be perfect. forgiving our children

when they step into some deep hole,

and we don't know how to pull them out.

louie giglio was talking about how inconceiveably

BIG our God is. how He spoke the universe into

being and breathed stars out of His mouth that

are huge, raging balls of fire. our God who knitted

our human bodies together with amazing detail

and wonder. we can trust the God who has the

power to hold us all together when things seem

to be falling apart.

held together,

one cell to another,

by the Cross.

mothers are soldiers.

marching. marching.

always striving to live with

forgiveness as our act of worship.

i throw my arms around you.

i especially dedicate this column

to all the single moms who have

marched on turf most others cannot

understand.

marching as to war!

the enemy cannot have

us or our chilldren.

I corinthians 13

"Love never fails...

and now these three remain:

faith, hope and love.

But the greatest of these is love."

~I Corinthians 13:8, 13

2010-04-26T16:25:00.000-07:00

hans urs von balthasar:

"i say to you, blessed is he who

exposes himself to an existence never

brought under mastery.

who does not transcend, but rather

abandons himself to God's ever-transcending

grace. blessed are not the enlightened whose

every question has been answered and are de-

lighted with their own sublime insight.

blessed, rather, are the harassed who must

daily stand before enigmas and cannot

solve them. woe to the rich. although nothing

is impossible with God, it is difficult for the

Spirit to move their fat hearts.

the poor are willing and easy to direct.

they do not take their eyes off their

Master's hand to see if He may throw

them a morsel from His plate. so careful

do the poor follow His promptings.

God's grace is unpretentious, but

the poor are satisfied with little gifts."

i've been spending

much time among the poor

since will died. i love this

quote from someone i don't know:

we have walked together

in the shadow of a

rainbow.

it's been hard,

and i can tell you

only a few have stood by

my children and me.

BUT HOW BLESSED ARE THOSE FEW!!!

those who have helped us

have taught me things i never

could have learned any other way.

i kiss every check. and my children

have learned to love giving because

we know the thrill of receiving.

wave your flags.

paint the sky red.

dance in the street.

grab a hand and squeeze it.

smile in every face God 's beautifully

created.

Jesus makes a way.

did you hear me?

HE MAKES A WAY.

give, and you will receive.

God promises.

if you are afraid today.

cannot see any way through.

keep your eyes on the Master's hand.

and sing! yes, SING!''

music is bursting through every

fresh, new flower. listen. and

join the choir. and feel the warmth

of my hand in yours. you have written

love all over the walls of my life. oh,

how i love you all!

" Ask and it will be given to you;

seek and you will find;

knock and door will be opened to you.

For everyone who asks receives;

he who seeks finds;

and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.

Which of you, if his son asks for bread,

will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish

will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil,

know how to give good gifts to your children,

how much more will your Father in heaven

give good gifts to those who ask Him!

So in everything, do to others

what you would have them do to you,

for this sums up the Law and the Prophets."

~Matthew 7:7-12 (NIV)

"Come, all you who are thirsty,

come to the waters;

and you who have no money,

come, buy and eat!

Come, buy wine and milk

without money and without cost.

Why spend money on what is not bread,

and your labor on what does not satisfy?

Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,

and your would will delight in the richest of fare."

~Isaiah 55:1-2 (NIV)

2010-04-14T16:42:00.000-07:00

i noticed the

mailman was by

the mail boxes.

are you almost done?

give me two minutes.

you have to be very smart

to be a civil servant. did you know

that?

i hate this job.

do you know that 40% of all

these homes are receiving

unemployment checks? 40!!

i wish i was on the other side

of the world, playing golf.

that's why i believe in Jesus.

i hang on to Him in these

dark times. He's my only

hope.

quietness.

no words in response

to what i said. just more

genuine grieving for the

suffering. tinged with rage.

here we are.

God's children.

suffering. striving. and

He is working to remind us

that without troubles, we would

forget the desperate need for Him.

His grace. His Presence.

a thread wrapped around our

hearts. pulling us toward

Himself. our dependance on Him.

strong arms long enough

and wide enough to hold

us all.

a ribbon of love

tied around our wrists.

drawing us in. the warmth

of God's broad shoulders and

steady beating of His heart that

stretches around the wide, blue

sky.

this next week,

my sister starts her "kamikaze"

chemo and stem cell procedure.

terrified. i, her partner. almost as

fearful as she.

my daughter-in-law

who miscarried her first

baby, and is put on bed rest

with this second one. weak

heart beat.

you?

your wounds?

terrors? battles?

march on, soldiers.

march on. shout the

victory call. join with

each other. a united

choir. bind the forces

of the enemy in Jesus'

Name. stare into the dark

abyss of chaos and despair.

fighting. fearless. daring.

i can hear the music.

the clap of thunderous joy.

higher ground.

rising.

out of the mist. the chill.

my hand in yours. yours in

mine. pass the cup of love.

victory reigns. stand steady.

alleluhia. allelluhia.

amen.

"Who shall separate us from

the love of Christ?

Shall trouble or hardship

or persecution or famine

or nakedness or danger or sword?

As it is written:

'For your sake we face death

all day long; we are considered

sheep to be slaughtered.'

No, in all these things

we are more than conquerors

through Him who loved us.

For I am convinced that

neither death nor life,

neither angels nor demons,

neither the present nor the future,

nor any powers,

neither height nor depth,

nor anything else in all creation,

will be able to separate us

from the love of God

that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

~ Romans 8:35-39

2010-04-03T18:57:00.001-07:00

i have been to
two funerals in
three weeks.

sobering.
stunning.
shattering.
all young men.

one mother,
gently putting her
fingers on her son's head,
humbly saying...

Your will be done.

mothers.
.and their "babies".

watch the butterflies.
paint stars on your children's
foreheads. laugh loud. trace
the shimmering breeze
as it blows through
your hair.

CELEBRATE!!

there are sorrows
that will shake our joy
and spew pain into the
dust. grinding it into the
mud of ugly hopelessness.

look at the beauty
of the small, giggling
child. tickle. hug often.
jump rope and feel the world's
music in all the trees.

oh, this glorious God.
He plants rich soil with
giant flowers pushing through
the sod.

He promises joy
to come
in the seemingling hopelessness
of searing pain and loss.

when we believe we'll never
laugh again, God promises
we will. the sun ALWAYS
rises again.

life is a journey.
on the screen.
periods of loss and
joy and hurt and celebration.

life is NOT a constant
dance routine. it is hard-nosed,
and the vigilance of the enemy
can make us feel like a
desert. scorned. perishing.

then,
long ago,
on a dark, cold night,
a Baby was born. different
from all others. grew to be a
man. and LOVE was His alliance.

scorned way beyond our what we
will ever endure or grasp. what a
Man. a glorious life doing the work
of His Father.

out of hate,
a cross was hewn.
and Jesus nailed to it.
stripped. whipped. until he
died.

this was all about our Lord.
broken for us. bruised. and three
days later, He arose, and EVERYTHING
was done to redeem us of our fragility and pain.

delivered!!
forgiven.
FREE.

do you know how sweet
freedom is? we're all
broken. all sinners.
pass the Cup. drink.
let holiness be our song.

2010-03-15T19:40:00.000-07:00

a tear slid down my cheek.

one isolated sign that

something was broken in me.

a wound. a gnawing

pull against my heart.

someone said i was self-absorbed.

and wrapped up in stretching

my own victories for all to see.

what do we do

when someone hurts us?

when we believe it's unfair?

i have learned that there is ALWAYS

a pocket of truth in EVERYTHING

someone says to me. to

take heed. evaluate.

ask God to reveal it to us.

people were crushing me

against a book table following

an appearance. books thrust

in my face to be autograghed.

for a few moments,

it was scary. no air.

trying to catch my breath. men

were pushing the crowd back

when a young man yelled...

you are a complete phony.

i do not believe one thing you

said on stage tonight.

it was hollow and empty.

there was an audible gasp.

in the massive crowd..

around me. shock.

i stopped.

looked at all the faces.

it was that guy to the side.

i just knew it.

he slipped away.

it was a reminder that

i am flawed. that a meek

spirit is what matters. to

keep my heart..my eyes..on

Jesus.

keep running the Race.

take the blows.

understand it is a part

of the battle between good

and evil.

darts and arrows puncture

us. but Jesus interrupts to

protect us. He is the Victor.

and we are His. Truth prevails.

photo used by permission copyright Judy Silverstein 2009

scripture reference taken from NIV version

2010-03-08T19:52:00.000-08:00

i have a dear friend.
beautiful. unpretentious.
pure. and all God's.

a storm blasted her family
last week. the world lay flat.
the sky reached down and slashed
the earth. side to side.

my friend's brother.
tall. chiseled features.
brilliant, in spite of learning
disabilities. senior pastor
of a large church.

from the blast of depression.
in a moment and time when it
seemed so reasonable to him,
he took his life.

storms.
howl and blow around us.
stand fast. hold on.

yes, i believe he's with Jesus.
"He understands our frame;
He knows we are dust."

Psalm 103:14

"i'll praise you in this storm.
and i will lift my hands, for You are
who You are. no matter where i am,
every tear i've cried, you hold in your hand.
You never left my side,
and though my heart is torn,
i will praise You in this storm."

"as the thunder rolls,
i barely hear Your whisper through the rain,
i'm with you. and as You mercy falls,
i raise my hands and praise the God who gives
and takes away."

i will lift my eyes unto the hills,
where does my help come?
my help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of Heaven and earth.

Psalm 121:1,2

warriors.
we wear the scars.
even if it just keeps raining.

2010-02-24T14:40:00.000-08:00

behind every face,

there is a story.

no, many stories.

we do not know

where on the journey

of life, people are.

i was casually browsing

through nordstrom's.

san francisco. with a

special friend. wanting to

look at the costume jewelry.

just for fun.

there was a pair of earrings

similar to ones that someone

gave me and got ruined. on sale

clear down to $14. my face warmed.

$14?! i could manage $14.

a perky, young girl.

maybe in her 20's.

excuse me. is this price correct?

let me ask my manager.

returning, she said you have

even a better deal. the price has

been dropped to $9. usually, we

never sell anything this reduced in

price, but the manager said you can

have them. $9.

my eyes were large.

heart beating.

i don't know if you are a

spiritual person, but i know God

brought me straight to you. you

were the sales girl that approached

us.

suddenly,

her visual look turned cold.

only her eyes betrayed her.

i was not deterred.

God didn't send me to you to

tell you to change. to shape

you up. chastise you. almost

whispering, i said, oh, no!

Jesus wants me to tell you

that He loves you and REALLY

cares. i don't know what is

happening in your private life,

but Jesus sent me to say it

will be alright. He is working

on it.

tears began to gather

in the corners of her eyes.

her face softened.

an ordinary day.

a sales' clerk at nordstrom's.

a giant God of the entire universe.

His vast love and compassion.

don't preach.

give people hope.

touch them where they

are. plant a seed of love

where it can sprout. let the

world know they REALLY

matter to God. somehow,

bring Jesus to their level.

it is ALL about love.

sometimes,

it is just a warm smile.

telling someone they are

beautiful. a hug. people

are starved for connection,

fragile wonder.

vast open sky.

breeze on our skin.

glorious world.

amazing, glorious God.

a song across the meadows.

Jesus lives,

and that is EVERYTHING.

amen.

2010-02-14T14:55:00.000-08:00

as tall and proud

as a towering palm tree.

stretching toward the sky.

as majestic as a mountain

standing against all obstacles

in its praise to a creative God.

not even man can call to it. it will

not shiver or blur in magnificance.

the sun that slides so quickly.

below the curve of the horizon.

rising or setting, its radiance fills the earth

with glory.

and the ocean.

pounding surf.

singing its own melody.

doing its majestic dance.

so is the Solid Rock

of our salvation. Jesus.

Redeemer. Creator. Lover

of our souls.

He calls us to join the

march. be soldiers. straight.

strong. unwavering

in our "yes" to Him.

do you understand

the wilderness?

screaming? sweating? hoping?

begging? yearning? lost?

alone? destitute? feeling forsaken?

God! where are You?!!

abandoning me?

kicking me off the team?

i am not good enough?! yet

YES! to reaching our arms

around His neck. hanging on.

to believing against all odds

that some day. some way.

God's strong arm will pull

us out of the shadows of

torment that have twisted our faith,

we will NOT be moved.

we will NOT give in.

the enemy cannot defeat us.

even as steady as

the sun to rise and set

each day, so

our eyes and hearts

are cast on you, Lord.

remember.

we are WARRIORS!

and all God has in this

bitter, lost world.

life is a marathon.

rhythmic with the eternal

God of the universe.

you WILL

laugh again.

your patience will build perseverance.

a sign you are ready

for your next mission.

dance, world. dance.

the Light of Glory

will come to us again.

amen.

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers,

whenever you face trials of many kinds,

because you know that the testing of your faith

develops perseverance.

Perseverance must finish its work

so that you may be mature and complete,

not lacking anything."

James 1:2-4 (NIV)

2010-01-27T13:54:00.000-08:00

paint me a song.

a dozen crayons and

a sky to color.

the choir takes shape.

music lifts us above

the armies of darkness.

the ice of our hardened

hearts begins to melt.

melts our rage and compromise

and all the holes we can't

seem to crawl out of. don't

even know how we fell in.

despair, addictions. crippling

depression.

"there is no testimony

without a test." james 1

we had a ladies' function

at church on a saturday

morning. for me, every

new neighbor opens the door to

a bag of pastries in my arms.

i help in anyway i can.

but i just didn't remember to

invite the single mom

above me -

my friend, judy, had a neighbor

coming. changing her world.

it stopped me in my tracks.

what about the single mom

upstairs?

i was SCARED! yes!

i was. i can, and do, talk to

anyone about Jesus, but it was

8 p.m. the night before.

run, ann, before fear catches

you. let redemption have a chance.

to sing its song, and dance the rhythm

of love.

mary was dressing for a date.

not this time. downhearted?

NO!! i had done my part, and will

continue building bridges instead

of walls to her.

do you have days

when you feel you don't count?

where is life taking you? does

God REALLY care?!

really have a plan for YOU?

suddenly

i'm coloring the sky

black. i don't like how

i'm feeling. oh, i want to

be PURE for Jesus. but

the angels are gone.

the music flat.

the air heavy.

how can Jesus use such

a flawed human like me?

well,

i got the helmut.

grabbed the shield.

strapped on the breast-

plate of righteousness.

okay, warriors.

we are in battle.

i have your back.

hope you have mine.

i ran 12 miles for you

today. stay tough.

we will not be deterred

from loving the world to

Jesus. glorious Savior

i hear a thread of music.

the sky begins to warm.

the angels are tuning voices

for the next song.

never ever ever give up.

victory is ours.

hallelujah. hallelujah.

amen.

all images used by permission

2010-01-18T19:17:00.000-08:00

catch a star.
dream a BIG dream.
toss a dozen colors
across the sky.

and know that the world
has a Savior.
and every helium-filled balloon we blow into the air
is a promise of His love and
unfailing compassion to us.
mortals. flawed. full of character
defects. remember, He uses the
poor...or...the strong (if they have
first been crushed) in spite of the
enemy's wildest attempts to shrivel
our confidence.

my sister tormented me
growing up. chiding me.
unmercifully. for talking too
much. i cried myself to sleep
in my pillow every time.

today, my best friend here,
is more patient. kinder. but
she tells me i need to listen more
and talk less. i finally get it.

so....
i sternly promise myself
going to the beauty shop that i will
be QUIET!! but a woman is sitting while
the dye is processing , and we start
talking about our children. that everyone
usually has one problem child in the batch.
one who can't grasp HOW brilliant and skilled
they are, and get stuck.

our flawless (yes! walking perfection) hair
dresser has two, little ones with a third on
the way. that had to be scary.

another flaw of mine
is failing to be right on time
to events. maybe ten minutes when
i slide in, hoping no one will see me.
notice.

the enemy does his dance.
laughs his hollow, cock-eyed laugh
that forms shivers into the very marrow
of our inner strength.

he exaggerates EVERY failure.
he paints shame into the very marrow
of our self-respect. makes us feel
stupid and hopeless and despicable.

i keep pounding the chisel
into my spirit. stubborn with
will power. and EVERY day
i mess up.

throw the rocks out.
the lies and accusations.
dance on the stones.
build altars of humility
with them.

yes, dance the dance.
sing the songs of God's love
that leads us out of our despair
and utter discouragement.
remember, the enemy's best
skill is to tell us lies. to separate
and divide us.

the music rings.
the balloons are scaling
the atmosphere. and
victory is our song and hope.

2010-01-07T20:16:00.000-08:00

there is a road.
long and twisting.
narrow. bumpy.
rocks and pot holes and mud.
THE road.

every other road in view
is freshly paved.
streamlined. with the diamond
lane for two or more in the car.
flowers planted. piped music
promising the beautiful life
as you travel.

"i will not leave you or forsake you."
joshua 1:5

a PROMISE!
through wildernesss and
storm and desert and deep, cold waters.
but a PROMISE of shimmering light
if we are on the right road.

a new year.
i pull on my boots.
stick the badge of courage
on my chest. marching.
back straight. head settled
high on my shoulders.
fearless. big times coming
our way.

the world assures us
of this if we choose
their road.

2010.
my heart shivers.
having lived long enough
to know i am ALWAYS
seconds away from my
next humiliation. that in a
split moment, tragedy
can strike.

a day doesn't go by that
i don't sin. a prideful thought.
a missed cue to touch
someone. being out of sync
with God. a seed of bitterness
working to burn itself into me.

and then that gift called "faith".
in all my years, God has NEVER,
EVER failed me. but over and over,
i find myself terrified over the bills
or one of my children.
the badge of courage being
chewed away by doubt.

my married son and wife,
and his three brothers, plus
a girlfriend came home for Christmas.
bodies everywhere. i was on the
couch. mercy, mercy. i LOVE my sons.
what will 2010 bring to them?
i knew so little in my early 20's.

did i grow in 2009?
did pain teach me?
will my children
choose the hard road?
God's path with hidden purposes?
will my faith ever be perfected?

grab my hand.
let's face the future
together.
Jesus, our Master.
forever with us.

boots buckled on.
when you start to fall,
i'll grab you. when i weep,
join me. if i hurt someone,
oh, may i be forgiven and learn
from it.

the fireworks are over.
balloons popped.
the sun rises over a
forboding, but promising sky.
i lie,
face down.
prostrate.
humbled and silent.
yearning for purity before
my Lord.

keep your boots buckled,
and be sure you are on the
RIGHT road.

2009-12-20T17:45:00.001-08:00

bring me a star.
glistening and pure.
one that REALLY shines.
light bursting everywhere.

let's take our sinew and muscle
and set jaws, with fire burning in our
souls, and push through the pain
into radiant freedom and exorbitant
joy and light,

it is Christmas.
white and pure and humbling.
Jesus, our Star, was born.
just for us. that, ultimately, what
was red as crimson can be as white
as snow.

bring me the Star.
i want to be like Him.
the bank at the grocery store
showed i had almost NOTHING in
my account. six days before Christmas.

with tears in my eyes,
i was driving out of the parking
lot when i saw a woman with a sign:
HELP! i pulled over to her. pushed
the window down.

tell me about you.
where you need help.
i just know you are a single
mother like me.

she smiled.
yes. with three sons.
i've tried everything, but
it's Christmas.....
i know. i know, i said.

turned the car around.
back to the bank.

there's a single mother
outside that is desperate.
she seems authentic.
Jesus says unto the least of these...
the hungry, the naked, the abandoned...
we are to love. so, i've returned to get a
little money for her.

ann!!!
the bank teller looked at me.
you hardly have any yourself.

i know. but just a little. i feel
destitute like her. i don't want
to miss Jesus' strong arm of love.

i found the woman.
put the folded cash in
her hand. remember, i tell her,
God's arm is never too short.
and He loves you.

my friend,
judy silverstein,
was telling me that God
uses the weak, and makes
them strong. the unknown.
He raises them to noble assignments
if they are humble. AND, God uses the
strong, but He must break them first
because He will share His glory with no one.

no bragging Christmas letters.
no overlooking of the needy.
no burden of being too busy for
God.

king david.
gideon.
the disciples.
abraham.
isaac
jacob
moses

crushed to be annointed
by the Star. the King of Kings.

three hours after i returned home,
begging God to give my children a
Christmas. all of them coming home.
all of them so incredibly loving to their mother.
three hours, and a knock at my front door.
a beautiful friend i have barely met.
an envelope in her hand. MUCH more
than i gave the woman by the store.

falling prone on my face
with such joy and gratitude and humility.
my friend falling to the floor. lying next to me.
our faces buried in the carpet. crying.
praying. praising God for the Star.

because of the Star,
we can partner with Him in
pouring His love and redemption
over our neighborhoods.

bring me the Star
that i may, somehow,
be holy like Him. beauty
for ashes. joy for mourning.
oh, Star, i come. i come.

2009-12-11T11:14:00.000-08:00

"I have come to call not
the self-righteous, but sinners."
matthew 9:13

"i love and hate. i feel better about
feeling good. i feel guilty if i don't feel
guilty. i'm wide open.. i'm locked in.
i'm trusting and suspicious. i'm honest
and i still play games.

i broke every one of the The Ten Commandments
six times tuesday....and the God i've come to know
by sheer grace, the Jesus i met in the grounds of
my own self, has furiously loved me regardless
of my state...grace or disgrace. for His love
is never, never, never based on our performance.
never conditioned by our moods-of elation or
depression. the furious love of God knows no
shadow of alteration or change. it is always
reliable and always tender." brennan manning

i saw the clean morning sky.
heard music across the sunlight.
and this week, i experienced a REAL
miracle. they come if we are patient
enough.

something else beautiful happened.
my four birth mothers flew in from across
the country. we stayed at a gorgeous home
on bass lake. friends of mine who offered it
to us. how rare can it be that four beautiful
birth mothers from different places each
delivered a son, and will and i became the
parents. four sons from four courageous
women. and now, brothers.

i decided if any young woman
loved her baby so much she wanted to
give him something more than she thought
she could, that i would train my children
from a very young age about their birth moms.
i taught them to love them. showed them
pieces of themselves just like their birthmoms.
and today, 25 years later, sacred love reigns
among us.

i slept in the bedroom with brandt's birth mom.
my cell was turned off, but beth's was vibrating.
"hi, brandt. did you want to talk to your mom?"
"yes". in a way, it tells the whole story. i'm the
mom. they call me. but they respect and love
their birth moms very much. something i've
worked at many years. we are thick with love
and respect for each other. all of us.

so....
we are a family.
bound by chords..ropes...of love
that cannot be broken. we cooked
and laughed and cried. we talked about
how i've raised the boys. some things we
would all like to change in their life styles,
but they are young men. making their own
choices. and suddenly three of my kids
walked in and surprised us.

everything changed when the birth moms
saw how brandt hovered over his wife, jasmine.
and that when they looked into colson's
face, they SAW the very heart of God at
his core.

we've all returned home.
lonely for each other.
pictures and memories and
moments to be cherished forever.
it began to snow voraciously outside.
and robin, who takes ballet, did a dance
to a praise tape that none of us can forget.

love someone you've been afraid to.
hug and kiss and laugh and forgive and
ask God to show you the beauty in it all.
splash paint across the sky. open your
hearts and allow God to make you brave enough
to take care of yourselves. without fear. and know
i love you. each one who reads this blog.
you help heal my wounds. make me stand tall.
and remember that all God asks is that we
do what we can. jump across the sky
of wounds, and be FREE!

2009-11-25T15:24:00.000-08:00

i have wept over last week's
blog. the courage to bare my soul.
not to bring people to the edge, but
to allow others to know the imper-
fections of life that no one usually
talks about. we hide behind the
shame. the fears of what others
will think.

my son gave me his permission
to do that blog. let me tell you
what has happened. one of his
brothers found out about his pain
where he lives out-of-state, and
called him.

i want you to come live with me.
my apartment has two bedrooms,
and one is for you. what will it take?
how quickly can i get you here, bro?

beautiful. magnificent.
one brother to another.
my son who is visiting
was in such shock.

mom, what did you tell him?
i'm going into my room and closing
the door, and i want you to call
and see if he REALLY means this.

so....
i made the phone call.
i really feel right about this, mom.
there is no hidden agenda. i want
him to come. this is what families
do.

i call it a miracle.
a gesture of vast compassion
that most brothers don't do
when they are 20 yrs. old.

i think of my son in college
who calls me, and all his buddies
make jokes and noise.

well! hello, mrs. anderson.
mother of this geek over here.

my son laughs, and says ,
be quiet. i like talking to my mom!
and laughter erupts.

no alcohol or drug problems, yet,
but we never know where our children
are going to take us. nor life. but i
know families take work. and Jesus
is the blanket that wraps around us,
and holds us all together.

my children knew that until they were
18, all the rules were mine. but when
that birthday came around, they were
considered men. and their choices were
theirs.

every sunday,
we marched down the church
aisle to the front row. i never looked
around, and my children were mortified.
but i didn't want them sitting with their
friends, and missing the beauty and power
of the service. before they were 18.

my youngest worked
at starbuck's. one early saturday
morning, after he had been out
late with his friends. having too many
beers, he was still non-functioning,
and had his face in a bowl of ice.
he could hardly walk, but i drove him
over, and he just happened to be
very blessed that he had Jesus on
his team, because, somehow, he
made it through his shift. only God
knows what people got in their
coffees and lattes.

if you want your children to tell
you what they are struggling with,
listen with no judgement. no sermons.
just quiet thoughtfulness. reaction,
which i've wanted to do many times,
would have forever changed the dy-
namic of our relationships.

with four boys,
there were so many different
girls coming and going that
i got lost in all the jennifers
and amandas and ashleys.
i often, privately, rolled my
eyes, but my lips were zipped.

thanksgiving.
a time to ponder
ALL God has given us.
it's a time for families and friends.
good food. and a song. the wind
pushing the music through trees and
across oceans and into the cracks of
pain in all our lives.

did you know that sin is all level
at the foot of the Cross? that God
considers pride maybe more serious
than all the other offenses.

i love the Cross.
that it is never too crowded
for all of us to find a spot.
ALWAYS, there is room
for one more.

with bowed head,
i kneel. i reach out and
touch the roughness of the wood.
see the stain of Blood.
remember, again, that Jesus came
for me. for you. and it is NOT about
perfection, but clean, pure, uncondi-
tional LOVE. scraped and dragged
across the stony path to the hill
where Christ's Blood gushed into
our miserable lives.

take communion.
a piece of bread.
a touch of olive oil.
a sip of wine or juice.
celebrate the Blood because
without that vast, incomprehensible
gesture of torture and pain and love,
there would be no hope for all our wounds.

2009-11-22T13:38:00.000-08:00

most people think my children
are perfect. straight a students.
deeply devoted to Jesus. soul
winners. life changers. you know.
walking perfection.

but somehow, under will's and my
watch, we didn't get all the pieces
just right. missed things. even when
we thought we were doing our very
best because, next to Jesus, we
loved our four sons more than the
roar of the ocean or all the wonders
of the world. in an instant, we would
have given our lives for them.

one of my sons has come home a few
days early for thanksgiving. now under-
stand, my sons tell me things i'd NEVER
have told my parents. we are tight. the
five of us have fought wars together.
but tonight, in the car, my child started
crying. feeling so alone. no girl. the
guys he shares an apartment with have
both lost their jobs, so my son is left to
carry it all.

he's started smoking and doing weed.
it's so hard, mom, and no one respects
me and i do all the work. i'm so unappre-
ciated. feel so isolated. i go to the food bank
every day. they throw food from the truck,
and whatever you catch, you get to keep.
no one says 'thanks'...or offers to take
turns at my apartment.

despair began to roar in my head. my heart.
stark pain that made my bones feel
weak. my joy sheared by fear and dark-
ness. he is 21, and he feels the world
doesn't care, and he gravitates to anyone
who will embrace him. most of them lost
like he feels. most Christian parents
don't know, but i do. my sons simply
cannot keep secrets from me.

i know they have slept with girls.
Christian girls. having fun today is
to go to a bar, and have a few beers.

my children look perfect.
handsome. strong handshakes.
look you straight in the eyes.
are kind. give money to the poor.
they KNOW how i long for them
to go to church. but the church is
losing the fight for our children.
dreams aren't stirred and brushed
across their hearts, judgement
teases in every corner. not love.
but judgement.

my son came home with a mohawk.
oh, i'd told millions that we are to love
others. it is NOT about how anyone
looks. who they are, we can only change
the world with love. sweet, untarnished.
beautiful love. the strong arm of kindness.
of reminding others that God ONLY looks
at our hearts. period.

and my son walks in,
and he's needing me so much.
needing tenderness and embracement.
AND I FAILED!!

i was so scared.
what did this mean?
had he aligned himself with
a subculture so lonely....so
desperate...that he's lost himself?

today,
he got his mohawk shaved off.
today, for me. and i failed.
i made his outward appearance
matter too much. oh, my son and i are
still tight. but if i had only thrown my
arms around him. kissed him, and told
him i noticed he had a new haircut.
joked about it.

i learned to REALLY pray
when i became a mother of
adolescents. flat on my face.
praying more for me than for
them.

love. tip-toeing across the clouds.
not noticing externals. and even, knowing
things are maybe screwed up, we are
singing our love songs. knowing that
under all the appearances...are yearning,
lonely people. and we LOVE then.
running through a stream, a melody.
a choir. salvation's Song. the process
of redemption.

2009-11-09T20:16:00.000-08:00

i only know the dying heart needs
the nourishment of memory
to live beyond too many winters.
rod mckuen

winter.
frigid hearts.
dry wind blowing our
dreams and hope across
the hardened, cold earth of
futility. miracles gone.
frozen. and our hearts
shrivel. hope withered.
the ache and blasts of life.

i've been in a very tough
financial place. i have
two banks. calling, i found
i had $120 in one, plus $200
in savings. trembling, i drove
across town to my other bank.
the one that REALLY matters.
where my car insurance and
gym automatically are withdrawn,
and the card by which i pay most
my bills.

clutched in my hand
was the $200
from the other bank's account.
knew this account was slim, too.
barely over $100.

my heart was like a burning torch.
terror rippled through every muscle
and brain wave. at least i had the $200
from the other savings account.
chewing on my fingers. a shudder as
i walked through the second bank's doors.

when i'm in deep straits financially.....
(most single mothers are terrorized by
the thought that the day might come when
management will start throwing your
furniture and clothes across the lawn)
my shame thickens. faith the size of a pea. i
doubt the God of the universe.

i approached the teller's counter.
only one guy iin a long row of women
tellers. he's my favorite because he
hustles. quiet. well-mannered.

i slip my card through,
and weakly say...nearly above a
whisper...greg, what is in my account?

let's see.
you have a little over
$1700 dollars, with nothing
used in your cash reserve (bank
money to reimburse).

i stand there transfixed.
greg, this cannot be true.
the last time i checked, it was
close to only one hundred dollars.
i'll swipe my card again.
same results. $1700.

racing heart.
face flushed. greg, pull up a
couple windows. where
did this come from?

before greg can say a thing,
i start run-on sentences.

greg, do you know Jesus?
i mean the REAL God?
the Hope of the world?
have you ever thought of running
with Him?

i mean....
i just came from
home. lying flat on my face.
by my bed. begging Jesus for
deliverance. some way to survive.
i had read the daily light. well, you
don't know about the daily light, but
it's a little book filled only with Scriptures.
and here i am................

suddenly, i sensed that the entire bank
was like a whisper. no one talking. a
silent symphony.

ann, i know about the daily light.
spoken quietly.

you DO?!!!
yes, and i know Jesus, too.

whoa.... !
YOU know Jesus, too?

it showed my deceased husband's
social security check. a little over $800,
but we never could figure out the rest.

i took one of the two one hundred bills,
and put it on the counter. placing greg's
hand on top of it. this is for YOU.

ann, i can't take that.
i could get fired for doing that.

you mean a lady can't just walk in
from the street. give you this and
they will FIRE you?

yes. they would.

but i want you to have this.
i don't need it anymore.
sorry, ann....but thank you so much
for the thought. it's been a hard day
for me, and you've made a difference
in my life.

i backed away from the bank.
all eyes on me. disbelief written
across by forehead. gratitude brushed
on the walls. a dance in the middle of
winter....

so many winters.
i just seem to fall into holes
i don't even see. and then spend
hours and months and years, with God's
help. crawling out.

an old hymn says,
i saw the Holy City beside
the crystal sea....

Holy City,
come to me.
come. and salvation
reign in my neighborhood.
at my bank. the grocery store.
the family next door.
shine, Jesus, shine.

dispense with the winter.
warm the world by your love.
thank you,, Lord..for the sweet
taste of your sanctity in our lives.

2009-10-29T08:13:00.000-07:00

"blessed are not the enlightened
whose every question has been
answered and who are delighted with
their own sublime insight....blessed,
rather, are the chased, the harassed
who must daily stand before my enigmas
and cannot solve them."

the curve of the sun.
shining. radiant. warm.
the taste of salt water and
the smell of skin turning damp
and brown.

then....
as we run, laughing. feeling
powerful, joyful. free, the
shadow falls. darkness hangs
over the clear sky.

beauty is gone. sheets
of pain hang over us. push us around.
knocked off balance , we try to find
ourselves again. crawl backwards.
toward power. the joy we once knew.

one of my sons called tonight.
crying. sitting outside in the snow
where he lives.

i'm the only one who works
in this apartment, mom. every day.
a lot of pressure. i go to the food bank.
get the food for everyone who hangs
out at our house. two of my friends are
having sex on my bed right now while
i sit in wet snow.

and his tears flowed.

i'm so lonely for you, mom.
could you please come just for a
couple days. for ANY time at all?
no one likes me. i can't find Christian
friends. a good church. why, mom?!

my youngest son who married the sweetest
girl four months ago just found out his wife
is one month pregnant. it wasn't what they
really wanted. brandt is to deploy to iraq
in may. he'll miss the baby's birth. they
wanted to be out of debt first. they want
children, but this soon?

i'm just a single mother.
of four. i kiss my children in
my sleep. lie on my face by my
bed, urgently praying that these
beautiful sons will find enough of
Jesus in me ... of His promise of
"joy in the morning"...that they
will be men of God's heart...and
willing to allow pain and suffering
to build character and humanity
and humility in them so they can
be wholly God's.

i'm not a lot as a mother.
the best i do is tell them the truth
about life. and that they are my
sun and midnight sky. cool, early
daybreak. that Jesus is our only Hope,
and if they miss Him, then they have missed
the most magnificent Gift of all.

"the poor are willing and easy to direct.
from the sky they can read the weather
and interpret the signs of the times.
MY GRACE IS UNPRETENTIOUS,
BUT THE POOR ARE SATISFIED WITH
LITTLE GIFTS." brennan manning

so, children, hold on to the wind.
when God is done buffeting you,
you will laugh again.and single mothers, and fathers,
stand.
unwilling to be blown
by the agonies of our children, and of
our own journeys.

2009-10-10T08:53:00.000-07:00

"i'm brennan. i'm an alcoholic.
how i got there, why i went back, is
the story of my life.
i'm brennan. i'm a catholic
is not the whole story.
i'm brennan. i was a priest but no longer.
i'm brennan. i'm a sinner, saved by grace.
only God, in His fury, knows the whole of it."
brennan manning

dark.
forboding.
buried. yearning.
begging for God's liberation.
for truth. so many struggles.
the sweet taste of liberation.
freedom.

gay vs. straight.
compulsive eating.
addicted to sex. pornography.
so broken.

"whiter than snow.
yes, whiter than snow.
now wash me and i
shall be whiter than snow."

i've been through the wilderness.
the desert. the deep, dark waters.
dived into the glistening, pure waters
of a swimming pool. begging...pleading
to be clean. washed.

we are all broken.
shattered glass.
charred emptiness.
except for Jesus.

purge us.
heal the charred despair.
get on the rug. in the car. on the floor.
scream for power in the Blood.
for there is no other.
none at all.
only the Blood.

2009-09-26T09:04:00.000-07:00

"go in love. go with love. go because of love.
how else will they know our good God?'
how else will we? claudia mair burney

"by this all men will know that you are my
disciples... if you love one another." john 13:35

a week ago, i boarded southwest,
guests of joseph and toni and their two
beautiful children.

as i mentioned in my last blog,
joseph was 10 yrs. old and one one of
twelve children that 24 yrs. ago, along with
11 other children , came as my guests to fly with
me to israel to cheer me through my 26.2 mile
race i'd never run before. now, he was flying me
to boston to meet his incredible family. renew ties.

after all these years...
and the
doubt that i would EVER see
these children again, the clouds parted.
the tears came. joseph, now 42, did everything
to make it a magnificent time. we stacked memories
to never be forgotten. from all the italian food we
could devour (the tangerine, almond tarts i could
NOT stop eating)..snacks in the boat..and diet
cokes and pepsi's wherever we could find them,
it was a dance. a miracle. and very hard to say
good-bye.

stretch your wings. grab a star. take one day at a
time, and allow God to give you an assignment of
love every day. watch the Light. listen to God's
voice. fly. most of all, pray for every opportunity
from God. it is ALL about LOVE. kindness.
planting seeds....until they sprout flowers between
your fingers. and all those around you are changed.
different. where there is pure love, the dance
begins. beauty, fresh and vibrant. live.

25 years, and joseph and i,
and his incredible family, find each other.
the fruit of our labor.

first night in the boat,
i slept in geno's cubby-hole.
brooklyn on the table's fold-out bed.

good-night, geno.
i love you.

i love you,too, ann.

brooklyn,
i really love you.

you, too, ann.

and we went around.
love, shining and clean and untarnished,
bound us together. all tucked into the small
living area. what a gift. fingers touching all
the wounds, and allowing us to rebuild the
walls of so many years apart.

do not be silent.
not quiet.
love is a burning torch.
let it burn. let it burn!

2009-09-11T21:25:00.000-07:00

taste and see.
watch and wait.
pour love out to all
who pass your way.
you and Jesus and i and love.
the fruit of labored lives.

a child..joseph.
that.. i took with me,
and 11 other children
from the poor areas of boston..
to israel to run my very first
marathon found me on facebook.

he was 7, 8, 10.
earnest. vulnerable. precious.
beautiful. full of mischief.
i wrapped him in all the love
and warmth and strength of
God's love that i could.

joseph
now, 42. married with two
children. and tomorrow, he
is flying me to boston to spend
the week-end with him and his
family.

melted heart.
joy for the season.
rainbows across the sky
of broken lives everywhere.
the fruit of my pure love for
this little boy. my yearning
for Jesus to transform him.

miracles DO live.
serving Jesus DOES pay.
feel the warmth of earth under
your feet. the awe of a clean, early
morning. the touch of air against your
skin. and decide to allow God to
plant more dreams in you. and see
each one who passes by as His beautiful
creation.

pray for me as i go.
for joseph and his little
family.
with much love,
ann

2009-08-31T21:17:00.001-07:00

"Jesus loves the little children.
all the children of the world.
red and yellow black and white.
all are precious in his sight.
Jesus loves the little children
of the world"

i love color. brilliant hues.
shades. layers of yellows and
violets and browns.
pink brick. sometimes, vanilla.
a wide, clean,
white. olive.

black offers something nothing else
can. gleaming, muscular athletes.
glistening sweat. and who can sing
like a black choir? or do jazz and the
blues with the soul of black musicians
who know pain like none others?!

i grew up in hawaii.
how come i had to be
tall. skinny. and WHITE?!

in the islands,
everyone was dark.
samoan. hawaiian. asian.
shimmering under the glowing
sun. color was God's idea!

quiet. listen.
my FAVORITE color
is LOVE. i've often
told my children the color
of one's skin means NOTHING
to me. put your finger in a paint
can. do a mural.
does the canvas show kindness?
the breeze in the sway of life? Jesus
with His arms extended? a child
on His lap? the sound of giggles?

my youngest son, brandt,
got married last week. oh,
he will be such a good husband
because he has loved me in such
beautiful ways. amazing son!

his wife?
jasmine. her name fits her.
fragrant. authentic. beautiful.
she is bi-racial.
african-american mother.
caucasion father.

if the color of their lives is LOVE,
their future is bright. jasmine
was taught that the mother
ALWAYS sits in the front seat.
a sign of honor. the color of love.
already at work.

i've always liked brandt's tastes,
in clothes. in his intuitive kindness,
and i like his taste in a wife.

congratulations, brandt and jasmine.
keep Jesus at the dinner table.
don't leave Him out of your prayers.
may the color of love reign as you
build your lives together.

remember,
the color of one's skin
is absolutely inconsequintial
to the victories of clean, pure,
love. may the color of love reign!

2009-08-19T10:57:00.001-07:00

written by a 16yr.old girl
who attends celebrate recovery
at shelter cove. modesto, ca.

dear drugs,
everyday that i was in pain, you were
there to take it away. you helped me
escape and forget all the memories of
my life. most of all, you made me forget
"me". for years, i thought that was your
best quality. i've finally realized it was your
worst. you took everything away from me.
my self-respect. my self-control. and slowly,
bit by bit, you took away pieces of me and
who i really was. you robbed me of my
innocence. you took a little girl away from
her parents. a big sister from her siblings...
and a best friend from so many. you turned
me into an empty, hollow shell, the opposite
of what i was meant to be. you killed a piece
of my soul that is so hard to get back. you
wasted so many days that i was meant to
live. when i had you in my life, i wasn't living.
i was merely existing. i was enslaved to you.
loved you. now my life has changed. i no longer
need you to shadow behind me. i'm going to
shine my own light. i'm finally a person
without you. in fact, i'm a better person. i'm
that little girl again. i'm that big sister again.
i'm a best friend again. but most importantly,
i'm myself again.it will be hard, at first, living
without you, but i know i can do it because
i am stronger than you. without me, you are
powerless and without you, i am invincible.
you can no longer rob me. you are nothing
more than the devil on earth, here to destroy
and consume lives. not me! not anymore.!
sincerely, a freed prisoner

we're all broken.
all desolate at different times.
shredded. wounds seared across
our souls. pain etched around the
edges.my children and i plowing through
cold fields of confusion and the wilderness
of defeat and rejection and fear. BUT....

"my chains are gone.
i've been set free.
my God, my Savior
has ransomed me.

and like a flood,
His mercy reigns.
unending love.
amazing grace."
(chris tomlin)

2009-08-03T19:07:00.000-07:00

a thursday.
the sky heavy with
rain clouds. too much
humidity.

the location: dallas, texas.
in the large home of jenni and david,
their darling one yr. old and dog, bailey.

we drove around, and simply saw a
hair salon. i ran in, asking if they could
do a little french braiding, and wash
my hair? it had been over a week.

yes!
absolutely.
10:30 a.m. on wednesday.
then, they called and asked
if thursday would fit instead?
yes. no problem.

a mantra.
a yearning in my soul.
passion. clean and pure.
to touch the world for Jesus.

jenni dropped me off.
i walked in and a lovely,
relatively-young woman
was waiting for me.

before she could put the
plastic cape around my neck,
she wanted to know what i did?
i hesitated. something about
writing that utterly intriques people.
everyone has a story to tell. and i
was weary. longing for anonymity.

not defining it in any specific terms,
i simply said i wrote to put bread on
the table.

oh, ann!
i write, too.
you know, poems.
stuff like that. but i get
discouraged, and busy,
and never complete anything.

it's easy to do that.
i understand.

now, we're at the sink.
she's shampooing me.
she knows how to do that
right!!!

well, ann,
what do you write about?
tell me. i can't wait to hear.

my head back.
the sound of spraying water.
my eyes closed.

well, i write about Jesus.
of His vast love for each of
us. i write about my children.
about me. our struggles and
failures. our victories. and how God
weaves beauty through everything.

the slash of darkness that begins
to find a thread of sunlight woven through.

this beautician began to weep.
oh, ann, i can't believe you are here.
that i found you. you were to come
yesterday, and i wasn't here,
God did this!!

yes, maryann, this beautiful, majestic
God can put people together for all
His God-ordained reasons.

ann,
last night, my
husband left me.
for good. enraged for various
reasons. i was drinking. drunk.
we got into a big fight. now,
i'm responsible for this 6 mo. baby.
and, ann, i really love my husband.

maryann,
i don't know if your husband
will come back or not. but God
uses experiences like these to
completely break us so we can be
pure. so we are bottomed out. purged
of our self-absorbed ways. so we
stop, and can hear Him when He
speaks to us.

a single mother. suddenly.
doesn't know how she'll survive.
i tipped her as much as i possibly
could.

run into His arms, maryann.
they are never too short. we'll
run together. i know Jesus brought
me right to you. calling you. beckoning
you toward Himself. He must have a
serious calling on your life.

"generous love. God give grace!
huge in mercy. wipe out my bad record.
scrub away my guilt. soak out my sins
in your laundry. i know how bad i've been.

what you are after is truth
from the inside out.
enter me thus; conceive
a new, true life." psalm 52 The Message

2009-07-22T11:18:00.000-07:00

"how easily could God,
if He so willed, set back the
world a little turn or two! correct
its griefs, and bring its joys again!"
edna st. vincent millay

just a turn here and there.
so the sorrows can be undone. the
failures. and life be as before. beautiful
and fresh and untarnished.

nash.
a graduate of whittier college.
summa cum laude..
young. vital. handsome.
his future planted with vastly-
promised possibilities. a job
waiting in san francisco. the
sky clean and blue. the pacific ocean
out his window. the world knocking
at his door.

one, gentle, cool evening.
he asked a beautiful, young , indian girl
to go out. maybe the third date, they
had protected sex. until the condon broke.
strangers. her culture a world away from his.
how much can you really know someone
over THREE dinners? how much?

she called and told him she was
pregnant, and positive it was his baby.
she was wild for nash the first night she
saw him. thought he was the most gorgeous
creature she'd ever laid eyes on.

pregnant?! a BABY?!
in one conversation, EVERYTHING nash
had going for him...freedom and the beginning
of the rest of his life...was obliterated.
shattered. leaving him naked. exposed. and
he withdrew deeper and deeper into himself.
the sky was no longer blue. the ocean a
million miles away.

lying in bed,
he would look over at this strange,
beautiful woman. pregnant with his child,
and he hated her. an unknown object.
blasting his peace. his joy. his soul!

he went to all the doctor's visits.
tried, in every way, to be honorable
and shoulder this weight. and he
sank lower. to depths no one else
knew or could understand.

the baby was born.
a beautiful, tiny girl.
i could not see a drop of nash
in this precious child we all
treasured.. none of us could.
but we embraced her. the
ground unstable under our feet.

the young mother
became more and more
distraught and demanding. nash
lost his bonus because of missing
so many work hours because of
her screaming orders to come home.

finally, secretly,
nash ordered a paternity test.
to be delivered to a private p.o. box.
without the mother knowing. he
swabbed the baby's cheek. then his
own. and mailed the package.

it was the same day....
the baby turned 6 mos. old...
nash had his birthday, and his mother,
my twin sister, jan, was diagnosed with
cancer. the DNA results came.
99.9% positive the baby was NOT his.

he went in, quietly, and picked up
this little girl we all loved. fed her.
talked to her. put a dry diaper on,
and laid her back in her crib.
with self-contained rage
boiling just under his skin.
behind his eyes. on the bottoms
of his feet, he handed susan the DNA
results. picked up a few things, and
walked out.

nash isn't about sitting behind a desk.
raking in alot of money for the sake of success.
he's a visionary. a dreamer. wanting to build a
better world. spain. china. anywhere. one brick
at a time. a banner here. five thousand there.
world, dance with me. believe with me. innovate.
create. expand.

like all of us,
maybe he forgot that the
Creator of the universe is the ONLY
One who can lead us to the music.
and direct the orchestra.

for weeks.....and months,
nash has been battling an internal war.
day after day, curled on his bed in a
fetal position. the hole too deep. the
wall too high. sometimes, he's sat at a
bar. drunk a martini. annihilated.

then, last night.
rock bottom. the place we all
must get to before we can rise out
of the ashes.

"God, i'll go. anywhere.
do anything. ANYTHING.
take my life. all of me. Jesus,
lead me out."

in its own way,
the sinner's prayer.
the arm
reaching out of the
wreckage, and God's arm
grabbing ours, and lifting us out.

"oh, joy,
you seek me through the pain.
i cannot close my heart to Thee.
i trace the rainbow through the rain,
and know the promise is not vain that
morn shall tearless be."

hey, nash,
your aunt ann treasures you.
believes in you. and i'm watching
as God turns the corner of your life.

2009-07-15T15:30:00.000-07:00

YES
to tomorrow.
fresh dreams.
higher mountains.
greater impossibilities.
wider sunrises.
stouter courage.
braver risks."
YES
because Jesus is the divine YES.
because He changes everything.
He is my highest fulfillment.
He made me whole...
takes the bad and turns it to good.
He is my Song.
my Reason to live.
"for to me to live is Christ"

i stand before Christ and the world.
my heart shouts an affirmation:
Jesus, i am a lowly servant woman.
take me. all of me.
add anything. take away anything.
at any cost. with any price.
make me Yours. completely...wholly.
may i not be remembered for how
i wear my hair
or the shape of my face
or the people i know
or the crowds i've addressed.
may i be known for loving You
for carrying a dream.
for building bridges
to the hurt and broken and lost in the world.
make me what You would be if You lived
in person where i do.
may everything accomplished through my simple
life bring honor and glory to You.
for carrying a dream.
to the hurt and broken and lost.
take my human failures and flaws,
and use them to remind those who know me
that only You are God.
and i will always just be ann.
amen.
amen.

2009-07-05T16:07:00.000-07:00

i can spot a single mother
across walmart or the grocery store.
or fixing sandwiches behind the counter
of subway.

all of us doing double time
to make ends meet. to keep the
roof over our heads. making sure
our children eat. that the electricity
isn't turned off.

the other night,
i went to celebrate recovery.
taylor, my oldest, to the gym.
all of me itched for a solid, two-hour
work-out, but keeping my sobriety
wooed me more than the other.

thinking taylor would be home
before i was. i left the house key
on the chest in the living room.
when i got home, the door was
locked. no key under the mat.

i got back in the car, to the gym.
and while waiting for my son to
answer the page (had ear phones
in, listening to his music so didn't
hear), i was visiting with sandy behind
the counter. handing out towels. etc.

finally, she came over,
and just the two of us were talking.

ann, i've worked here for seven years,
and still get $9 an hour. isn't that pitiful?!!
no benefits. nothing.

i found taylor.
he handed me the house keys.
as i was driving home, God
spoke.

ann, remember all the cash
at home that you got out for the
rent? give her $100 in My name.

these are my most glorious moments!!
the THRILL of helping Jesus in my
neighborhood. my face gets flushed
with excitement. heart pounding.

grabbing $100, and zooming back
to the gym. pushing through the front
door, i found her standing alone. wrap-
ping up for the night.

i rolled the bill
so she couldn't see
the amount. opened her
hand, and closed her fingers around
the money.'

sandy (fictitious name),
i give this to you in the name
of Jesus. i don't care what you do
with it.

a glorious God.
radiance on her face.
she began to weep.

sandy, this is not mine.
but God's. He knows ALL your
needs. covers you when you
are in pain. when you have run
out of all your resources.

she kept crying.
hugging me. kissing my face.

sandy, are you
a single mother?

yes, three children.

whoa! we were sisters.
leaning hard on Jesus to
keep us afloat. i know because
i have four as a single mother.

oh, ann, i love you.
you'll never know what
this means. miracles really
do happen! you have no idea
how much i needed this.

soaring with the angels.
the Divine. joining in God's
kingdom efforts on earth.
as fresh as the early morning
sky. as quiet as the sun stretching
lower and lower across the horizon.
single parents. alone and difficult,
yet NEVER alone. NEVER abandoned.

"guide me, oh, Thou great Jehovah.
lead me through this barren
land.
i am weak, but Thou art mightly.
guide me with Thy powerful hand.

bread of Heaven,
feed us 'til we want no more.
bread of Heaven,
feed us 'til we want no more."

2009-06-30T11:36:00.001-07:00

"there is a River
that flows from Calvary....
there is a River that never
shall run dry...." old hymn

flow, River, flow.
our hearts are parched.
dried of compassion and love.
our vision is so narrow.
our thinking so small.
our fears like giants, taunting
us. and rage seeping out, and
mixing with our fake bravado.
crushing all the beauty.
shattering who we are for God.

my youngest son came home
for the week-end. my oldest, still
in college, here, too. they rented
the movie GRAN TARINO. clint eastwood.
get it. watch it.

clint is this bitter, old guy.
wife just died. spoiled, adult
children. his house gradually
surrounded by hmong families.
gang violence. he is hostile.
doesn't like anyone. annoyed
by all. loves only his dog.

his wife, before she died, made
the young, irish priest promise that
he would get her husband to confession
before he died. impossible challenge one.

it is subtle. the story line.
brick upon brick. ultimately, this old
guy cannot help himself. the love of
two hmong teenagers (brother/sister)begins
to crack eastwood's brittle exterior.

he feels more loved by his hmong neighbors
than his own, superficial, disrespecting adult
children. a hmong gang takes on this brother/
sister team. it fires eastwood up. he tackles
it first with violence. beats a gang member
brutally. pulls out his gun. his mind travels
back to vietnam, and the scourge of soul
when he had to kill.

without divulging
the brilliant evolvement
of love, let me just say "dirty harry"
was able, again, to produce a great
movie. though no spiritual thread was
woven into the story, it brought me back
to love.

"to write the love
of God above, would drain
the ocean dry. nor could the
scroll contain the whole...though
stretched from sky to sky." hymn

one of my children from boston...
a boy i utterly loved from the ghetto.
went with me and 11 other children
as my guests to israel to run my very
first marathon..found me on facebook.
from nine and ten years of age to now
42 yrs.. married with two children.

his mother was a woman who worked
in my neighborhood. someone i led
to Jesus. she, too, found me on facebook.
devout Christian. connected again after at
least 25 years ago. River flow. River flow.

a couple has been moving in
next door today. 107degrees.
it is 9:30p.m., and it hits me that
maybe they need taylor, my son, to
help. and me. i tear off my night-gown.
pull on shorts and teeshirt.
run next door and knock. they are basically
done for today. but we meet. and i had only
been home minutes when the knock comes
to my front door. the washing machine.
help? please? taylor runs over. they get
the job done. a new bridge built.

love transforms us.
takes the hardness and coldness
out of our hearts, and washes the rigidity
and sarcasm with purity. changes our
world view.

River come.
oh, River, come.
in the glistening waters
of your Blood, wash over
us.

sir, can i help you?
hey, kid, you want to play catch?
oh, what beautiful eyes you have.

spontaneous moments.
unheralded. authentic.
Jesus' Blood. our River.

oh, River, drench our desolation.
wash us. that your love, in us,
will change the world.

2009-06-19T16:10:00.000-07:00

motherhood is beautiful
and hard and, often, way over
my head. especially when it
comes to tough love.

one of my sons lives in a city
close by. he is handsome, brilliant.
can talk to anyone, and write circles
around me.

but living skills?
keeping his word?
meaning to, but doing it is
another story altogether.

i drove to where he lives
ten days ago because he was
needing a bicycle. his walking
to work, two hours a day, demoralized
me, to say nothing of him.

so, i picked him up.
took him to o'brien's market
for his favorite, tri-tip sandwich,
and headed to walmart to check out
bikes.

mom! i have a great idea!
we could use your bank card,
and get me clear-wire service for
my computer. it's only $29 a mo!
well...it goes up to $44 after three
months.

BUT, mom, i have a job, and i
could pay you every month. like,
today is wednesday, and i get paid
friday. i'll give you the first month then.

for a brief moment,
my brain decided to sit on a shelf
somewhere, and i went along
with him. we bounded into the
clearwire store. i asked if we had time
to test it and return it. yes, one week.''

i laid my card on the counter, and we
walked out. tall and proud. i had the happiest
son in the world.

well, friday came, and i called about my
first payment. our agreement. his words
began to slide through me with a chill. a
dark realization. this utterly-amazing son
of mine, finding it hard to navigate life. not
doing what he said he wiould do, had just
displayed his life-worn behavior.

darling. you are an adult.
do NOT tell me you will do something
if you aren't. a person's word is his
character. shapes the form of his life
journey. establishes trust or negates
it.

BUT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, MOM!
i bought $50 wowrth of minutes for my phone
so you can always reach me.

AND, MOM, i was so lonely.
so down. so i took a nice girl
(you would REALLY like her!)
on a date.

honey,
the first month, and you already
have failed on your word.

i walked around for two days.
disgusted with myself. my son
does not drink or smoke or do drugs.
his addiction is a specific game online.

i knew better.
again, in a subtle moment of weakness,
(after all, we, as a family, had been through
the wilderness and the flood), i had created
a mess for myself.

and i knew
i'd face hell for
my decision.

day seven arrived.
i drove to where my son
lives, and knocked on the door.
i asked him for the clearwire box
and chords. within moments,
i was scorched by the heat of
rage spewing everywhere.

you are not worthy to be a mother.
you are worse than my worst girlfriend.
ouch! his girlfriends are the bottom-of-the-list girls.
i don't ever want to see you again.
i am going to change my last name.
i am no longer in this family, and i don't
want to EVER again be your son!!

i'll leave out the most choice words.
nasty, and outside my vocabulary.

listen, honey, i know i've not been perfect.
i know i've failed you. will you forgive me?

NO!! NEVER!!

well, no matter what,
i'm taking the box back to
the store. of you can't keep
your word the first month,
there's no question i can't depend
on it.

finally, i quietly walked next door
to the woman in charge of the program.
with young people, 18-21, chosen.
to teach life skills. free counselling. etc.
i needed support. i meant business, and
every single second of this scenario was
excruciating. if i wilted now, all the
tough love i'd doled out for the last 8 mos.
would go down the tube.

i'm a lover. let's be happy.
for the first time, ever, i had
stuck to my guns. unbending
to the schrewed manipulation.

the director
walked out with the box.
i cried, and thanked her for ALL
she was doing for my son.

ann, give him time. it'll be okay.

it sure didn't feel okay.

as i was almost to the freeway
for home, my son called. sobbing.

please don't get on the freeway, yet.
i didn't mean all those horrible things i
said, mom. you and i are close. right?!
i know i'm the black sheep in the family, but...

you are NOT the black sheep in our family.
not for one single second has that thought EVER
entered my mind. i'm so proud to be your mom.
i utterly believe in you. you are my son with
a calling on his life.

i drove back to where he lived.
we stopped and bought two of his
favorite dvd's he could watch on
his computer, and some groceries.

if we don't learn to stand
by our word growing up, then we
are adults still playing the same games.
still manipulating. we become grown-ups,
doing the same games, but more polished.
smoother. easier to dress ourselves in ways
not noticed at a glance.

i wish every morning had a clean,
summer sky. but they don't. some
days the wind swirls. thunder roars. people
have foul moods.

that is what the Redeemer, the Savior,
is all about. redemption. cleansing of
the carnality we are born with.

tough love.
it is not pretty.
but it is the foundation
of our destinies. we owe
it to our children to live through
the pain...to the other side...so
God can depend on us to be
His disciples. His world-changers.

2009-06-08T08:05:00.000-07:00

"commend me to a bruised brother, a
broken reed. for the Man of Sorrows is never
far from him." robert murray mccheyne

hmmmm.
bruised and broken.
like Jesus. our goal.

can i keep the devil from taking
my song? pastor bobby's
words still ring in my ears.

plant my feet
on the Solid Rock.
held steady by Jesus.
when the storms roar, and
i sway in my pain, may the song
live!

the business goes under.
you lose your job. someone you
love more than you love yourself
dies. can the devil take our song?
can't let him do it.
can't let him win.

it was a normal week day.
i drove to modesto to see my
doctor. picked up a steaming-hot
bowl of cheesy-potato soup to go.
cradled the bowl, with a plastic lid,
deep in my lap. as i pulled right, onto
the main street, making a sharp turn,
the soup flew.
lid off. all over me, and toward the passenger seat
where i had important papers.
as i reached to grab the bowl,
i automatically turned the steering wheel
in that direction, and jumped the curb
on one side.

standing by my car. stunned.
soup down my black dress. chew-
ing on my bottom lip. unable
to bring the car back over the curb.
i stood.
cell phone forgotten at home.
my song fading.

a police car pulled up to see that
everything was okay. i explained my
delimna. before i could mentally devise
a solution, the officer looked at me, and
said....i can tell by your eyes that you
have been drinking!

excuse me?!! what did you say?

you have been drinking!
i can tell by your eyes.

too stunned to tell him i was ten
days away from eye surgery on the
muscles of my eyes...that one pupil
or the other wanders to the outside,
i just gaped at him.
speechless.
unable to dialogue that i have NEVER
liked alcohol. how it tastes or how it
makes me feel. i NEVER drink.

but before i knew it, they were
putting me in the backseat of the
police car. charging me with a DUI.
no breathilizer. just because..my eyes.

the song?
it was gone.
replaced by a dirge of terror and
horror and shock.

through the grid in the police car,
my voice trembling, i said, draw my blood!

it was done by a nurse.
i was booked into the women's jail
in the next city, in the middle of nowhere.
stripped. finger-printed. face mugged.
one phone call allowed, and i could not
think of one phone number. not one.

brokenness.
a path to higher ground.
well, i didn't like it. didn't want it.
knew i had been wronged, and did not
want any music.

finally, i was led outside.
three massive, tilled fields between
me and the road. was told i had five minutes
to cross this spanse, and catch the last bus
of the night to modesto.

run!
my instincts kicked in.
i knew how to run.
kicking off my
flip-flops. eyes down so as to miss
the holes. face covered in tears, i
started running for my life. as the bus
was pulling away, i slapped the door, and it opened.

today,
my eye surgery is done.
all charges have been dropped
because no alcohol or drugs were
found in my blood. it was a dear friend
who called out of the blue, who retained
an attorney to represent me. i had told
every young woman arrested after me about
Jesus. and He, through it all, did NOT aban-
don me.

i flunked with my song.
i wasn't noble in my brokenness.
but God used this in my life. the pain
DID become my gift.

"i want to scale the utmost heights,
and catch a gleam of glory bright;
but still i'll pray 'til Heaven i've found,
my prayer, my aim is highter ground." (old hymn)

"i will exalt you, O LORD, for You have lifted
me out of the depths and did not let my enemies
gloat over me...weeping may remain for a night,
but rejoicing comes in the morning." ps.30

2009-06-02T07:48:00.000-07:00

pastor bobby said
the devil can't take my song!

i shout out
huh-uh! no, sir!
it is mine to sing, and
he is NOT going to quiet
my music.

oh, the devil tries. yes, he does.
he reminds me of all my
failures. he whispers that i am
weak. not worthy. but he can't
have my song!

my sister has cancer.
one of my children feels
very alone where he is.
i'm not always sure how
i will pay the bills. it is not
always easy to hang on to the
music, but the devil
can't take my song!

it is not hard to sing
on good days. when
everything just seems to
fall into place. the children
are thriving. friends embracing
me. enough money in the bank.
there is music everywhere.
i hear it in the trees. in
the laughter of those around
me. the chirping of the birds.

but, i trip, and fall
on little things if i'm not
careful. a criticism.
a minor collision. a miserable
work-out at the gym.
and my song begins to fade.
like the sun crawling below the
horizon. so subtle, the way
darkness settles over us. the way
music leaves me.

but...
just when the devil
thinks my song is gone,
i reach out to you.

let's join in our sorrows,
and our struggles. let's
become a choir. our voices
raised to the ONLY One
who can make the music.
the only One who knows the
song. let's sing!

never!
no!!
the devil can't
take my song
because he knows
NOTHING about melodies.
there is NO music where
he dwells. we will not
hang our instruments in
the trees. we will NOT
be quieted.

pastor bobby got it right.
the devil doesn't get it,
but he can't take away
our song.
even the rocks and hills cry out.
the song lives!

"He has given me a new song
to sing. a hymn of praise to
our God. many will see what He
has done. they will put their trust in
the Lord." ps.40:2-3

2009-05-20T11:34:00.000-07:00

"i'm not afraid of storms
for i am learning how to sail
my ship." louisa may alcott

long ago,
i decided if i didn't make friends with
pain, i would be a miserable person. a
new storm has always been brewing somewhere
on the periphery of my life.

in my latest book, seduced by success, i made
a BOLD confession. this specific experience
shattered me. a tsunami that shredded my peace
and terrified me.

at 27 yrs. of age,
i lost my virginity to a
married man.

i was dean of women on a university
campus outside boston. one of my superiors,
highly regarded by all, fell for me. he was married,
with children, and i was utterly unprepared for the
wiles of some men. jan, my sister, had just married,
and it made me feel very alone. vulnerable.

this man, twice my age, was so subtle in wooing
me that i was in before i realized it. and didn't know
how to get out.

with all my heart, i was pure
about Jesus. He, my Star and Savior, was
everything. until this, i had never stepped my
toe outside the line of spiritual responsibility.

then,
beyond imagination,
a storm gust picked me up,
and blew me into a world of nightmares
and blurred truth beyond anything i had known.

i had saved myself for marriage, but in
one night, one moment, lost all the years
of purity. crossed a line that i could never
change.

he told me we were different.
that the commandments against adultery
and fornication in the Bible did NOT
apply to us. he called us exceptions.

how could that be?!
what was truth? scrambled brain.
terrified contradictions that i literally
could not match up. i became completely
lost.

many nights,
i would get into my sport's car, and
drive through winding streets in my
neighborhood. screaming and screaming.
retching out the pain. the horror and shame
of genuinely being lost from truth.

tears streaming down my face.
a wound so deep. slicing the clean, pure
journey into shards of ragged aching
utter misery.

Jesus! Father God!
help me. show me truth.
Lord, i am lost.

it was a big night.
i was speaking to a packed
coliseum. a lean, simple form
sitting on a stool. telling my
story of one young woman plus
a great God and love, changing the
world.

after,
as soon as i closed the door
to my hotel room, i fell on my face
by the bed. it didn't matter who had
walked there. what had been spilled
there.

nothing mattered.
nothing at all, except Jesus
coming and opening my eyes and heart.
a glorious night of blessing at the huge
auditorium, shrouded by a dark secret.

and even worse,
truly not knowing
the truth.

in time,
God led me out.
miraculously. the chains
of bondage removed. my soul
washed in God's glistening truth.

are you in the middle
of a storm? lost and shattered?

i promise you
that the Cross is far
more powerful than the lies
and deceit.

Jesus knew my heart.
He protected me. led me out.
confess and watch Him do the
same for you.

"there's room at the Cross
for you. there's room at the Cross
for you. though millions have come,
there's still room for one. yes,
there's room at the Cross for you."

"In the world you will have trouble, but be courageous-I have overcome the world!"
John 6:33

2009-05-16T15:14:00.000-07:00

"Lord, i want to be a Christian,
in my heart. in my heart.
Lord, i want to be a Christian
in my heart."

can you hear the music?
the heart's earnest melody?
with longing; a purity that
pierces the darkness?

in my heart.
where only God sees.
full-figured. skinny.
those sitting on a park bench, or
flying via foot. running in the early
morning mist when the sun begins to
settle on the far horizon. stretching its warmth
up and down streets, in the
neighborhoods everywhere.

in my heart
where it REALLY matters.
where we leave judgement
by the side of the road. in God's hands.
set it apart. love,
with no exceptions. shining in our eyes.
we look at people, and they can see
compassion and kindness
in spite of our own frailties and imper-
fections and sin.

hey, brother, can i take your hand?
little boy, do you want to play catch?
popcorn and laughter and a million red
balloons. all because Jesus REALLY lives.
and He is in us. in our hearts where the TRUTH
really shows. can you catch the melody?

tomorrow,
my oldest son turns 25 yrs. old.
will and i knew he was the most
beautiful baby in the nursery. and
the fact that he, at one month, rolled from
the middle of a king-sized bed, and fell off?
well, that classified him as a genius!

he, and my other three sons, melt my
cells and arteries and bones into gushing
pride. humility and gratitude. but do they
catch the rhythm of God's magnificent orchestra?
Lord, can they see my heart?
do they know, in the my quiet living out
of life, that YOU are my heart? you are ALL
that matters? do they see You in me?
in all the ways that count?

skin color means nothing
to me. social/economic status?
nothing. body size? nothing. nor
achievements can turn my head in a
different direction from the Song. oh,
i pray for my heart in this polluted, self-
absorbed world.

happy birthday, taylor.
welcome home from the university.
for the summer. catch that sweet,
clear music in the air. can you track
the rhythm of love that i've painted on
the walls? stamped the chords on the doors
so all can enjoy.

"Lord, i want to be a Christian
in my heart. in my heart."

that is ALL Jesus is about. His beethoven
of sorts. sit up. poise your instruments.
the common houses, on ordinary streets,
can tap to the beat of Christ's glorious
music of love.

come sing with me.
join the chorus.
we have work to do.
in all the heartache. all the
searching....for Someone...anyone...
to PLEASE play the song.
and tell them they will laugh again.
that joy comes in the morning.
and the shadows NEVER last
forever.

Single Parenting Q & A with Ann Kiemel

2009-05-12T16:19:00.001-07:00

Two young girls wrote in to Heritage Builders and wanted Ann to address specific questions in regards to ministering to children from single parent families.
Her responses are thought-provoking and worth posting for others to read.
Here are their questions:

Thanks so much for being willing to help, we really appreciate it. Just to give you some context, our main idea for ministering to the kids in single parent homes was to send out a small quarterly magazine.

What are some similar emotions that kids in single parent situations probably share? For example, would they have anger, insecurity, rejection, or a sense of being un-loved?

What is the best way that kids (in general) receive encouragement?

What kinds of things might offend kids in single parent situations? For example, do you think it would be offensive to offer them a magazine labeled specifically for kids in single parent homes, or to offer to make dinner for them one night so they can spend time with their parents?

Do you think we could show God's love to them better by sending out the magazine, having events like Bible studies or movie nights they can come to, or doing random acts of kindness for them?

Now about the magazine... Do you have any suggestions on content, a program we can use to put it together, making it look appealing, etc.?

Do you have any other advice for us about working with these kids, the magazine, etc.? Any will be appreciated.

Again, thank you so much for taking the time out of your schedule to help us. We really value any input that you can give us.

And Ann's response:

dear girls,

my name is ann, and i am a single
mom who works with heritage builders on this
subject specifically. i hope these answers
will help you.

there are many things i don't know.
what age, generally, are you talking about?
what is the social-economic status?
do you do this full-time? i was deeply
touched by your passion and genuine
love for these single-parent kids. you
must be very special, and make a great
team!!

1. best way for kids to receive encouragement?

love. love. love. pick them up (one at a time
if you can), and go get ice cream together.
listen to them talk. about their day. about
their moms or dads. about hard stuff. maybe
letting them have your phone numbers so they
can always feel free to talk.

2. similar emotions single-parent kids feel
vs. all the others who live in two-parent houses?

it is easier today than it once was. today,
every l in 2-3 families is single-parent, so
children don't feel obviously disjointed and
separate from all the others. my husband
died 8 yrs. ago with cancer. i especially...and
still do...dread Father's Day. it makes the loss
feel so obvious. BUT, so much depends on the
mothers. some women can't imagine being alone,
so they hook up with men. bring them into the
home. etc. look at these kids you work with.
BUILD BRIDGES to the single parent. as you
work with the children, do something for the
mothers.

3. should we cook a special meal so they can
spend time with both parents?

yes. yes.
beautiful concept.

4.should we do Bible studies? random acts
of kindness?

again, tremendous ideas. not
knowing how old most your kids are, let me
tell you what i did when i was single, and out
to change the world for Jesus. i'd tell the guys,
who wanted to play on the basketball courts
in my neigborhood, "okay. no problem. BUT,
you have to spend 30 minutes with me in a
Bible study." i had all kinds of guys coming
to the Bible study, and then playing basket-
ball to their hearts' content. random acts of
kindness? you can never fail with this. just
be careful that you don't exhaust yourselves.
that you put into yourselves nurturing and rest and
love, or you will burn out.

5. the magazine?

i hope to meet you both
some day. you are so whole-hearted. creative
and passionate. a magazine is a BIG undertaking.
maybe once a month. each mag. should be clean
in its layout. simple to read. only three or four
pages. maybe featuring two kids an issue. pics
of them. what they love. then, it reinforces to each
one HOW special they are. most kids aren't into
alot of reading. school all day. homework to take
home. i know several women who produced beauti-
ful mags for kids, and eventually, the demand was
way down. not worth it for just a handful. how
about cards for the kids, from you? i'm a computer
idiot, but i receive cards, often. made, somehow,
online. OR, keeping a camera around, and each wk.
do a brief youtube with them in it.

6.clues to working with single-parent kids?

relate to them as if they are whole, and not
defective. divorce and death are not their fault.
what is each one's favorite candy or snack?
challenge them to DREAM BIG. to ask God
to plant a dream in them, and with all their
effort, and God's, never give up, and watch for
miracles. focus on them helping others. there
is so much healing when we give our lives away.
detach them from what they don't have, or can't
do. instead, help them to serve. to give. to
believe they can change the world. one person
at a time. our world is our neighborhood. i was
a youth director, once, out of college. big, wealthy
church. i told them God and i were going to
change the world, and if they wanted to join
me, they should meet me at the altar at 5:30 a.m.
on saturdays. prayer and breakfast (could be
fast food, with an allotment of how much they
can order).

girls, i wish my four sons (now, 20,21,23.24)
had had two gals like you in their lives. what a HUGE
difference it would have made. just remember: ask
God to make you creative. to give you ideas. and love
purely. YOU, both, ARE changing your world.
love,
ann kiemel anderson
heritage builders

If you a have question and/or set of questions for Ann, feel free to email them to
info@annkiemel.com.

2009-05-02T15:25:00.001-07:00

have you ever been
to an AA meeting?
or celebrate recovery,
the Christian counterpart?
once you have been,
you are never the same.

it is where Jesus visits.
the broken. the enslaved.
the struggling. the desperate.
we gather. in our yearning.
to touch Him. to crawl under
His arms of love, and feel His warmth
and compassion. to breathe the
same air. to inhale His grace. to find
communion with each other. where
it does not matter how we look. what
we are wearing. where we live.
we are grasping. reaching. lost in our
muddled lives for more of HIM.

on sunday mornings,
at church, it is eons away
from the huddled masses on the
outskirts. people drive to the
beautiful, steepled churches.
bound out of clean, shiny
cars. dressed in their best.
smiling. radiating vibrance and
enthusiasm. trying to exhibit
some level of perfection. sitting,
side by side. singing about God's
vast love. nodding at friends. ministers
with perfectly-knotted ties and boisterous
enthusiasm. i am sitting next to you.
but i don't know..not really..anything about
you. nor you, me. all of us too afraid
to share our darkness because then we
might feel rejected in the ONLY place
we are supposed to find unconditional
love.

last night,
i went to celebrate recovery.
heard a young man tell how,
in seven years, he had never gone
a day without smoking pot. yet, here,
he found hope, and is four days clean.
wonder on his face. in his voice. then,
i went to the women's substance abuse
group. single mothers, wives, young
women who have fought battles all week.
somehow held on until they could come.
sit in a circle and talk. complete trust
that what is shared there, stays there.
no pretense. no compromise of truth.
joined, not by our social-economic status,
but by our brokenness and failure and
struggles.

i'm ann. i'm an addict.

hi, ann.

some of you know i shattered my
femur. broke my hip, and cracked
my pelvis a yr. ago after a fall. i
had fourteen years of recovery under
my belt. my doctor gives me four
pain pills a day. i try to only take two
at night to sleep. i struggle. i
want to be pure for God. perfect.
yes, i want to be perfect for Him.
the Savior and Star of my life. but
it is so hard. am i wrong? right?

everyone listens. nods
in understanding on some level.
i've taken my darkness, and laid it
out in front of them. humbly.
with courage, dredged out of pain.

then, charity (not her real name) spoke.
i'm a mess. i'm 27. i can't help myself.
i'm smoking heroin, and really want to
shoot up so bad. i can tell i'm pregnant
again. i've had four kids so i know. my
boyfriend's abusive, but i don't know how
to live without him.

and she starts to weep.
stunning young woman.
externally flawless. but, shattered
of soul and spirit. grief and fear and
shame hanging on her. stooped over.
eyes downcast. combing her hair away
from her face with her fingers.
utterly destitute. terrified. i went over
and threw my arms around her. she buried
her head in my shoulder. i kissed her face.

i came home
knowing i had seen a
touch of Heaven. Jesus, the Savior
of the world, crucified for us all. and
though church on Sundays looks good
on the outside, behind every glistening
facade, there are secrets. troubles.
rebellious children. women who have had
abortions in their youth. moral failures.
all of us trying to hold it together, and
forgetting that Jesus came for us. not
to make us perfect. only HE is perfection.
but to take our hands, and
lead us down the road with grace and
tenderness. promising deliverance. giving
comfort.

it's ALL about the Blood.
the Blood of Jesus. He was
wounded and scarred and hung for our
transgressions. drink from His Cup
today. "there is power..power..wonder-
working power in the Blood of the Lamb."

2009-04-28T16:31:00.000-07:00

this was a juicy hamburger and
strawberry milkshake day. blue the
color of topaz in the sky. the pacific ocean
35 feet from the hotel. brisk air as the salty
waves curled toward shore outside our hotel
room.

tom, my brother-in-law, had business to cover
twelve miles from the oregon coast, and he and
jan asked me to come along. a king-sized
bed and a roll-a-way. just what we wanted,
except tom insisted i sleep with jan, and he
took the roll-a-way. just like tom if you knew
him.

have you ever driven through massive
redwoods, and seen the river racing far below?
stood at the foot of one of these magnificent
trees, shooting high into the sky? so high that,
even squinting, you cannot see the top?

NOTHING God makes can be replicated by
man! not in our bodies. not the majestic
ocean that stretches even beyond the horizon.
jutting mountain peaks with a dash of snow.

sitting in the tiny, home-spun space,
sipping straws of the best ever milkshakes,
i knew how incredulous God's love is for
flawed mortals.

morning light burned through the curtains.
we took the elevator down to the free breakfast
in the lobby. children giggling. orange juice
spilled. i, with p.j. bottoms and a top on. laid
back. some couples animated with each other's
conversation. one man, alone, scowling. peel-
ing off his yogurt top as if he were yanking the
skin of failure off his miserable bones. his
bleak life. one baby screaming. high strung.
needing something, but no one knowing what.

i looked around.
so much life encapsulated in this
one hotel lobby.

we were having fun, but in the damp
quietness of my soul, when i least expect
it, a shadow falls. suddenly, my imperfec-
tions glare at my moment-before peace.

the essence, my entire adult life, is that
God only looks at the heart. our motives.
our love for Him. the clean intention of being
pure and perfect. even as perfection is as
theatrically warped as one lost mis-step...
in a brilliant performance that thrills the
heart and makes one weep. the unnoticed
error obscured completely.

do you ever move from a place of
peace to a cloud dangling overhead?
stealing what was just joy, to now doubts
of your worthiness? i do.

do you get lost in what it really means
to please God? to know your servanthood
is pure? deserving? i second-guess myself
all the time.

my father prayed and fasted, often ten days
at a time. he always seemed sad to me. my
brother set the tone, and he did not match up
to my father's standards. every waking moment
i was trying to make my dad's face light up.
at 7 yrs. old. 12 yrs.old. and through my teenage
years. attempting perfection was an everyday
effort for me. and utterly impossible.

i think i've finally learned to retrace my thoughts.
what had i seen on a billboard? what song had
just played on the cd? feelings are triggered by
something as simple as what someone
said to me that shamed me. once figured out,
a slice of sun trickles into my wound.

if this is not a milkshake and hamburger day,
walk around the block several times. endor-
phins help. do something beautiful for some-
one in your neighborhood. find a chair at the
mall, and watch God's incredible creations.
beauty lives in all of us. somewhere.

"Lord Jesus, i long to be perfectly whole.
i want you forever to live in my soul.
break down every idol. cast out every foe.
now wash me and i shall be whiter than snow."
(author unknown)

take a finger,
and write love across
the sky. dig a toe into
warm sand, and know that
God counts every grain on every
beach in all the world.
life is not defined by strawberry
milkshake days so much as
by the fact that God sticks them in
here and there because He loves to
surprise us. and lift the heavy loads
that life demands to purify us.

2009-04-18T18:18:00.000-07:00

a man wrote my children
a letter today about their mother.
he addressed my sons by name.
taylor, brock, colson, brandt.
we really love each other. and
he told the story of his youth ministry
in the 70's and 80's, and how my simple
books shaped his life. i wept.

i am making copies for each of my
sons, and they are going to be so
blessed. blessed because our journey...
the five of us...has been shaped by hardship
and struggle. something beautiful happens
when we stand together through deep waters
of adversity, and days of sorrow and loss.
even more powerful, God is placing wonderful,
loving, caring men into my sons' lives. and
they will be so proud that God has somehow
used their imperfect mom to make a difference.
i remind them that ANYONE can make a
difference. one plus Jesus plus love.

i also received a letter
this week from danae.
17 yrs. old. young and
vibrant and passionate about
Jesus, and taking Him to her
world. some day, i will be gone,
and she will take my place, and others,
reminding the world that Jesus
lives...and He loves. and
His love changes
EVERYTHING!

love.
that is all there is.

almost every day,
i drive over to panera's.
a bakery, and soup and sandwich
place. i made a decision to go
on Easter Sunday afternoon because
i am building bridges to the owner.
he is in my neighborhood.

the parking lot was completely empty.
fearful it was closed, i got out
of my car, anyway, and was
thrilled the door was open.

jerry was at the counter.
wow! i'm sure glad to see someone.
are other places as forsaken as
we are?

yes, i smiled.
so happy to reassure him
that his business wasn't going
under. i bought a shortbread
cookie, a bear claw, and yogurt
with granola. my favorites.

he thanked me so much
for always coming in and giving
him business. for bringing my friends
in, too. so happy! that is how i feel
when i have touched someone
in Jesus' Name.

one day, i went in, and autumn
was behind the counter. a single
mother of three. i ordered, paid,
and asked where we leave tips.
she said they didn't have tips there.

i stood there. thinking. praying.
opened my purse. i had a $100
to pay a bill, but pulled it out,
and rolled it up. sticking it in
autumn's hand, i said...

put this in your pocket.
i love you, and Jesus does.

later, i found out she bought
groceries for another single mom,
and herself. thanksgiving was the
next week.

people loving my children.
all of us trying to love the world.
fresh and glistening and pure.
God promises bright, happy
tomorrows. you'll see.

2009-04-11T16:41:00.000-07:00

jan, my twin sister, was just here
for three days. i've walked my husband
down the road of cancer, and now, jan,
my dearest friend in the world.

i drove her home to sacramento,
and then headed to modesto, to take
colson, my son, to dinner, and to walmart
to buy what he needs for a new job. again,
saddened by his struggles as i am with jan's.

then....
i began to think of Holy Week.
yesterday being Good Friday.
i called each of my children.

remember, today is when we humble
ourselves because Jesus died for our sins.
remember to look for the poor. do something
in Jesus's name for someone.

brock drove in from long beach.
my second oldest son. last night, late.
we'll go to church together tomorrow
before he heads home. Easter Sunday.
the JOY of the Resurrection!

"how precious is the flow..
that washes white as snow..
no other Fount i know..
nothing but the Blood of Jesus."

being brilliant didn't deliver me
from my sins and addictions and corrupt
core, willpower (and you have to have this
to qualify for three boston marathons...and
run ANY 26.2mi.race without stopping) couldn't
lead me out of darkness. only the Blood
of Jesus.

for jan. for my children. for all of us.
only Jesus's Blood can free us of enslavement.
fling the doors of imprisonment wide open.
we are all broken in some way. sick, and
needing healing. of body. or heart and soul.

cry out today.
to the ONLY One who offers
deliverance. the One who moves mountains.
slices through every impossibility,
and raises clean sunrises out of
dark, polluted fears and failures...and
the ropes of terror that bind us. cripple us.

i am not a saint.
i need all the grace everyone
else does. let's drink of the Cup,
and eat the Bread together.
and know...ALWAYS know...
that the Blood will NEVER lose
its power.

2009-04-05T21:41:00.001-07:00

today, i took care of a newborn baby.
beautiful. tiny. that sweet-baby smell.
it brought back so many memories of
when my four were newborns.

then, suddenly, they became teenagers.
almost overnight. and i was a single mom
through most those years. living by faith.
will had died, and cancelled his life-insurance
policy. we didn't have him, or steady finances.

i have loved every stage of my children's lives,
but do you remember when you were a teenager?
my sister and i hardly put our heads on the pillows
at night because we were afraid our teased hair
would get squashed. when we hated how we looked
en route to school, my mother would say,,,oh,
you are young and beautiful!

young?!! what did that
have to do with anything?!
i have said the same thing to my sons,
and they have looked at me the same
way i looked at my mother.

none of my children have gotten into
drugs. so far, no girl has gotten pregnant
that i know. but i had two children that
just fit perfectly into the school box.
homework. projects in on time. studied
on their own for tests. and i have two
who got a's on their tests, but could NEVER
get their brains around homework after 8 hrs.
of classes. my favorite letter of the alphabet
became "d" because it meant they at
least passed the class.

brandt, my youngest, who is now a firefighter
with the air force, would gladly tell you of some
of his escapades. how he and his friend stole
lighters from long's drug, and accidentally burned
an abandoned house to the ground. and how his
learning instructor called me every single day of
8th grade.

mrs. anderson?
yes?
brandt went across the street today
and pushed a port-a-potty over where there
is construction.

mom, i don't know why i did that.
i just thought it was a funny thing to do.

colson's english teacher happened to sit
behind me one sunday morning at church.
i had authored 17 books, and was terrified
colson had not passed her class because,
of course, he never did his homework.

even brock, in gifted classes, came home
one day and said,
mom, i have to drop out of high school.
i can't go on. i'll take my GED tomorrow
if you will let me.

and then,
all those car accidents
divided up between four teenagers.

today,
remember the one thing that matters
more than ANYTHING else: relationship.
no matter WHAT my children did, i believed
our relationship was all that really mattered.
they would tell me things i honestly can't
believe most teens would EVER tell their
parents. about sex and pornography and
the terror of rejection.

i wanted to say alot of things,
but i just listened. they trusted me.
it gave me a window in how to pray for
each of them. i would go in, every night,
and talk to them after the lights were out.
lying next to them, in the dark, where words
and emotions came so much easier.

i'm not a child expert,
but if we don't have a loving
relationship with our children,
then they will wander farther away.
yes, i had rules.some might seem silly.

no piercings until you are l8.
brock never complained, but on his l8th
birthday, i went with him to a tattoo shop
where some guy was supposed to be the BEST
with piercings. he had so many on his face that
i could not even really tell what he looked at.
i would not have even wanted him to touch me.
brock and i subtly eyed each other. i put $40
on the table. and stood by brock while he got
his lip pierced. it looked horribly painful, but it
was the best moment of brock's life, i think. smile.

no matter where your teenager is,
and i have seen mine fight and scream
and heard them use school verbage that
melted my insides. BUT, i told them every
single day that i was so PROUD to be their
mom. that i was the richest lady in the world.
i have hugged them. baked them brownies at
10p.m. at night. i've tried to keep my feet on
the ground, and take their momentary insults
without reacting too much. and yes, i called
the police one night because one of my sons
refused to show me any respect. but...

we are wrapped together
by chords of love and loyalty
and mutual respect. and in the
darkest of times, we run to each other.
if your child does not graduate from high
school, it is a disappointment,but there are
worse things. one of my sons is having
such a hard time finding himself. he is
in another city. staying at different friends'
houses, and i won't let him come home
because we have tried EVERYTHING together.
i tell him i think it is my fault. i'm not very
good at boundaries, and he NEEDS that.

but...
often, i drive to where he is.
take him out for his favorite sandwich.
get him a haircut. sometimes buy him
new underwear and socks, and maybe
a cd (he chose johnny cash. i approved).
but i don't give away money. i don't let
him see my tears when i drive away. i
know he has to figure out, on his own,
at 21 yrs. of age, how to find himself.

he calls every few days.
we always talk about how much
we love each other. i've told him,
in the past, that self-respect doesn't
just walk in the door, but i don't
anymore. i remind him, though, to
cry out to Jesus. to pray. that i'm on
my knees, for him, every day.

don't compare your family to
other families. to how well their
children seem to be doing. don't torture
yourself this way. i'd much rather my
children wander around, and find themselves
today than when they are thirty-five and forty.

relationship.
between us and God.
and between our children,
wherever they are,
and us.
that is everything.

2009-03-27T16:05:00.000-07:00

there are a lot of losses
for every important gain.
roadblocks. mountains. rivers.
doors slammed in our faces.
corners of our souls caving in.

and then, God
gradually begins to lift us
into the light. away from the
weariness and fray. the depression
and doubts. and He begins to breathe
life into our dreams.

i have always been a dreamer.
always believed that nothing is
impossible with a giant God.
i've spoken it. written it. and
taught my children. written the
glory of what God can do if they
don't give up across the walls of
their hearts.

brock is my second oldest. ll months
younger than taylor. since junior high,
he has dreamed of playing bass in a band.
though academically gifted, college has had
no appeal. hey, he was willing to live in
his car just to tour with a band. he spent
hours and hours at the computer in our kitchen.
scrolling to all the bands. listening to every
genre of music. i'd take him to local con-
certs. he looked normal. everyone else would
be hanging around the doors with mohawks and
piercings. terrified me.

no piercings in this family until you are
eighteen yrs. old, and NO tatoos until you
are living on your own.

brock and i spent hours at the guitar store.
i'd sit on a speaker, and watch him pick chords
on all kinds of basses. i truly knew how beauti-
ful his heart was. how he wanted to minister to
kids. i was on his team!

he and taylor moved to san diego after taylor's
college. he auditioned for a big band and got se-
lected. toured 6 wks. each summer. that band dis-
mantled. he started a couple bands of his own, but
no one had his passion. and darkness settled in.
consuming any hope. abolishing the dream. he was
with me on a trip to alabama. he told me about his
despair. mother's day, 2008. we started walking.
brock, again, handing me his pain like a gift. soul
to soul.

then, last night.
the call came.
mom! remember the band i told
you about. played background for
a big, hollywood movie? i auditioned
last night, and am playing with them
at a big gig in hollywood in may!

sometimes, it is years.
i've been through the wilderness
myself. no sound from heaven. not
even a whisper. for years and years.
BUT, with a great, glorious God, and
time, dreams DO live. never, ever, ever
give up. the losses add up, and cres-
cendo into a magnificent, new tomorrow.

2009-03-19T17:35:00.000-07:00

there are days
when things happen.
unexpected. out of the blue.
and our lives feel shattered.
i've had days like that.

for you maybe it was
a car accident. your fault.
your insurance. something you
do not have or cannot afford.

or someone you really, really
love walking away. saying goodbye.
forever. twisting the pain in your
soul. cutting chunks out of
your heart.

so many possibilities for what
feels like life altering calamity.
and ruin. oh, i understand.
fear and hurt that
stomp into every inner piece
of you. with their big muddy
shoes. slams you on your face.

God gave me
some scriptures today.
be holy for I am holy.
our Savior Jesus Christ came
so He might purify us
for Himself.

then, He reminded me,
over and over and over
to fear not.
be strong. He is with us.

somehow, His grace,
we just must get through it.
His power. His strength. His
arms wrapped tightly around us.
even if we feel numb.
we trust
Him. we read His word
and hold on to every promise. I stand
with you today.

we will sing for joy over your victory, and in the name of our God we will set up our banners. may the LORD fulfill all your petitions.
psalm 20:5

2009-03-08T19:59:00.000-07:00

a publisher sent some quotes
from an old book of mine.
written in my 20's. to be used
in a new book coming out
by another author.

i am not a fan of everything
i write. i've cried at the
publication of every new book of mine.
cried after reading the first five pages.
wandering how i could have let ANY
publisher print such pitiful stuff.

but when Jesus chooses to put
His hand on ANYTHING or ANYONE,
He often chooses the least. the unex-
pected.

i thought a couple of lines
i penned when i was too young
to really even wear makeup
might help you today.

quote: everything must balance.
if i want to love deeply,
i should expect to suffer deeply.
this means i more or less choose
for myself what i want to put in
and take out of life. nothing great
or noble comes cheaply.

in your marriage today.
or trying to survive...raise...
adolescent children. or have
an obscure, unrewarding job...
choose to love and listen and give
with all your heart. knowing
suffering is part of the equation.
but victory, somewhere along the path,
is promised. a crease of light
rolling across the dark devastation.

another quote:
new year's eve.
it matters what you do
with a year. it counts.
the old is the foundation
for the new.

today, we've passed
new year's eve, 2008.
into the third month of 2009.
but let's join hands
and tangled legs. hearts
a little askew. let's go for more
than 2008. scratch the past failures
out with a black marker of the
second chance. race for The Star.

paint promises across the sky.
give your chilren room to
get lost and find themselves.
even if we thought we'd done
a better job and where they are
isn't exactly what we can brag
about, or had in mind. let our
children see us on our knees.

let's run to Jesus this year.
let's cry out. even if the window
is open. praise God for the boss
we don't like. and the teacher who
doesn't seem to notice how brilliant
our children are. for spilled milk
and babies crying. and our friends
who are late for dinner, and the
bread is cold.

i want to fly this year.
even if i fall now and then.
soar with the message
that Jesus lives, and He
is glorious.

i want to love
the homosexuals next door
without one sliver of judgment.
wrap them in God's big, warm
blanket that brings us together
and reminds all of us that
all God cares about is the heart.
did God say we aren't to love everyone?

i hope you are with me.
that i can reach out and
grab your hand. it will be a
much better year that way!

2009-03-04T15:06:00.001-08:00

God tells me things
when i am at the gym.
talks to me.
maybe because He has
my undivided attention.

it has always been this way.
even during my early years of
ten miles every morning at 5:30.
air on my skin. alone along the
charles river. boston.

what a wonder!
the eternal God of the
universe unveiling His thoughts
to me. i miss hints from Him.
getting myself, especially as
a mother, into all sorts
of skewed emotions.

yesterday,
i had a nasty work-out.
eight miles on the edge
of acute, abominable misery.

God reminded me
that i casually say things
to make myself look better.

how many miles did you go
today? oh, 8 or 10 or 12.
whatever it is.

how are your children doing?
well, taylor is thriving in college.
brock has a great job.
colson is so authentic.
brandt's a firefighter.

God reminded me
these are all His gifts.
my health. my children.
and that my life is full
of imperfections. He would
prefer me not to tell people
how far i have run...or
my children's victories. ever.
but rather, that some days
are good. others rough.
my children have challenges.
usually one or another at the moment.

when i have been raising
children fourteen years.
and loving my neighborhood
in complete obscurity, i find
my confidence leaking.
drip by drip. and
pride sticks its head in
with a crazy, crooked jab.

no one remembers who you are,
ann. and today, no one really
cares. suddenly, without meaning
to, i quietly tell someone
i am a writer.
was once successful.
the minute it takes for me
to say that, a cloud forms
on the horizon of my soul.
shatters the impact of who
God is and who i'm not.

last night
i fell on my face.
as low as i, a
weak, insecure, prideful
servant could be. prostrate.
shamed that i can love Him
so, yet try to lift myself
so as not to be hidden.

forgive my failures.
let's build bridges
instead of walls. too
much pain in all our lives
to brag about anything.
Jesus is our mission.
the light.

love unconditionally.
no judgment. ever.
only beautiful, clean,
glistening love.

2009-02-21T11:08:00.001-08:00

i see a light!
a pin-point on the screen
of a million stars. but a
little brighter than the rest.
a new seed planted.
sprouting like a clean, new
morning. i finally had the
courage to read your responses
to my new blog. your wounds.
your dreams. reaching out to
me so we can join hands again.
reach for the stars. believe,
with all our hearts in our giant
God...and He, plus love, can change
everything. i love you. i welcome
you back into my life and journey.

i hope that none of you thought
that quietly raising my children
the last fourteen years changed the
passion and love i have for Jesus!
never! never! never!

in fact, yesterday, i was standing
in an aisle at target, and knocked
something over. my long, skinny legs
reached, on tiptoe, and
i knocked a strip of price codes
to the floor. the lady standing
next to me said she had just
had back surgery, and couldn't
pick it up. i smiled at her.
my face suddenly flushed with
kindness.

back surgery? ouch!!
i shattered my femur in my
left leg last year, to my hip
bone, and i know, for sure, what
bone pain is.

oh, then you know.
you look strong today.

well, i am a fighter.
when they told me i'd probably
be walking with a cane in 6 months,
i wept for a day. i'm a runner.
the wind in my face. the en-
dorphins pumping. with tears of
agony, i started walking the halls
of the hospital.
and every morning and afternoon,
i doubled the distance. nurses
started standing in the aisles,
cheering me. but...

i told them they could praise me for
staying fit and running marathons,
but this?! no! this was about Jesus.
His power. His love.

tears began to brim in this lady's
eyes. and spill over. she reached
her arms around me, and i hugged
her, and kissed her cheek.

my neighborhood.
God put my clumsy self
right in the same aisle with her.

oh, the sky is painted yellow.
a million red balloons.
Jesus written across
the horizon. darkness made light.

God loves you,
and i love you,
and that's the way
it should be!

i was at the legal aide office
in sacramento. i have learned
the help...at least some of it...for
desperate, single mothers. i had a
problem, and was waiting for my
appointment when an african-american
woman sitting next to me asked
if i was there about housing.

no.
are you in a desperate place, too?

well...do you think they can charge
me rent when they are evicting us?

hmmm. i wouldn't think so,
but i don't know much about
that area.

she looked anguished.
desperate. abandoned.
i know those feelings.

i took her hand in mine.
Jesus is bigger than the legal
system. don't plead with Him.
begin to praise Him that He
never abandons us. never!
thank Him for this struggle,
and that He is going to fix it.

a surprise.
a star in the sky.
out of the ashes. before our
very eyes. beauty rising,
and taking form. and
all that we most feared
gone! flattened. levelled.
and the miracle we need
fulfilled in ways we had never
imagined.

my name is charelle.
charelle, my name is ann,
and i'll be praying.
i need a miracle too.
we will stand together.
mothers crying out
in praise.

Jesus puts people right in
front of us. we never have to
be looking.

brandt's best friend's father
was having a birthday
cookout. brandt was invited.

mom, i know what i want to give
tyler's dad. there are only two things
i know he really likes:
bud light and cigars.

i looked over with a frown.
honey, you cannot take either of
those to the party.

but mom, birthday gifts
are to make people happy!!

i was grateful the party wasn't
until a few days later. i began
to try and come up with something
acceptable for this non-church
going man. i knew tyler's mom
more than i did him.

suddenly, the day had arrived.
other things had crowded out
all thoughts of this party.

brandt, our money is tight.
let's go to chevron, and see
what they have. but NO
bud light or cigars! he was unhappy.

we are both roaming around
the store. here are the cigars, mom!
brandt, men have special tastes in
cigars. keep looking.

mom, they have separate
cans of bud light. we could
get him just one.

our dialogue raised
an octave. no one else was in
the store, and our emotions,
on both sides, were unraveling.

finally, i conceded.
okay. ONE can of bud light.

i looked toward the front of the
store, and saw the cashier with
her hand over her mouth, unable
to stop smiling.

mom! brandt whispered.
don't say anything that will
embarrass me. just pay for it,
and carry it out.

we pulled up to tyler's house.
i asked brandt to ask tyler's mom
to come out to the car.

lorin, please forgive me!
brandt was determined that
bill would only be happy
with cigars or beers. he loves
giving gifts. making people happy.
i'm terribly embarrassed, but
please know it came from brandt's heart
of love, and i finally conceded.

laughing.
ann, bill will love what
brandt brought. i know brandt
has a big heart. thank you!

you might think that was a
terrible testimony, but it was
about innocence and love -----
and i decided it built a bridge.
changing the world means meeting people
where they are. without judgment.

so, fellow dreamers,
let's roll up our sleeves.
open our hearts. and throw
kindness and mercy and
compassion to all those
around us.

we run together.
shoulder to shoulder.
in Jesus' name.
you and i. a giant God.
and love.

please respond to me.
i really love to hear from you.

2009-02-13T16:14:00.000-08:00

i have been with my twin sister,
jan. my dearest friend in
the world. so much joy and love.
and then they told me.
then we all found out that
she has multiple myeloma.
cancer of the blood and bone marrow.

it knocked me over.
kicked me in the gut.
broke my bones.

from childhood, i have always
said i wanted to die first.
to live without jan is to be
tossed into a chasm of black
rocks and shimmering chills.

so...here i stand. heaven on
my head and hell on my back.
i am a mother of four incredible sons.
can still do 12-14 miles at the gym.
have treasured friends.
but jan. we came from the same
egg. shared the womb together.

where is God taking me?
as my heart pumps out blood,
it hurts. it aches. in the darkness
of my room, i hurt. already i have
been down the road of cancer with
my husband. you are never the same.

Jesus, keep me near The Cross.
there a precious fountain.
near to all a healing stream
flows from Calvary's fountain.

near The Cross.
near The Cross.
be my glory ever.
till my raptured soul
can find
peace beside The River.

where are you today?
some Heaven and some hell?
feel Jesus standing there.
take my hand. stumble
along with me.
no one. NO ONE. no one
understands like Jesus!

2009-02-06T14:34:00.000-08:00

i have a little, fold-out couch
in my bedroom. a big room
with a window seat, and pictures
blown-up of my children, on
the walls. often, when one of them comes
through town, en route somewhere,
they always want to sleep in my
room with me. comraderie. closeness.

colson came in one night two weeks ago.
he slept on my bed, and i on the couch.
it was late. i turned the lights out.

mom, is t.v. an option?
no! he loves going to sleep
with the sound of the television
droning in his ears. i have bad habits,
and this is one of his.

what should we do then?
well, we could talk in the dark.
or pray. or both.

mom, i really disappointed God
this last weekend.

did you?

yes. some of my friends
at a party were joking about
God, and i laughed with them.

oh, honey, that must feel terrible.
isn't it wonderful that we can
just silently tell God our sins
and know He forgives us instantly?!

within minutes, i could hear his breathing.
the sound of sleep. of peace.
beautiful Jesus. gracious Savior. honest son.

two nights ago, brandt came through.
he is a firefighter for the air force
and was en route back to base.
it was midnight, and he had called to
see if he could sleep over until 4 a.m.,
when he'd have to return to base.

yes! of course. i'd love it!

he comes through the door.
i love my sons. tall and strong
and loving and on my team.

i just got a tattoo, mom.
and with that, he pulled off his
tee-shirt to show me.
anderson, starting up under his left
arm down the side of his torso.

wow! that looks like it hurt!
yeah, it sucked.
it is nicely done, though, i said.

he likes the couch. i had it
ready for him. he was sore
(i gave him tylenol) and tired
with only 4 hours of sleep for him.
i crawled into my bed. the room dark.

mom, what did you think of
the super bowl game?

brandt, it was a great game,
but i still feel sad arizona lost.
kurt warner has an unbelievable
life story! and i'm always for the underdogs!

i helped colson get moved
into that apartment. i even got
my fold out couch from
my friend's house, and took it over
for him. you okay here by
yourself?

i'm good.
it is cozy, and i feel safe, brandt.
i just want each of you to go
out there where your dreams
are. where the great lessons
of life will guide you. stay close
to Jesus, brandt. don't lose Him.

i won't, mom.
goodnight.

and he was gone. sleepland.

oh, i was tempted to
challenge colson to pick his
friends more carefully. and to
chide brandt that tattoos
are addictive, and can never
come off, especially after he told me his
friends had tattoos on their calves,
their hands, everywhere.

but i said nothing.
they trust me as their mother,
confide in me even with their worst
offenses. i gave them the best i had,
and at 18, they became young men.
now, life will guide them. Jesus will
walk with them. me? i've become the
listener, always reminding them of
my pride for their beautiful
imperfect lives. and pouring
over them all the unconditional love
that oozes in my veins for each of them.

i have been told that
many are reading my blog.
i am so new at this. so
excited to be back with so many
that have unconditionally loved
me, with all my imperfections,
through the years. i reach out
my hand to you. my heart.

and remember to love your children.
to focus on their thoughts.
to never give up.
the end story is all that really
matters. i will talk to you next
week.

Life is taking one day at a time.

2009-01-12T14:47:00.000-08:00

have you ever watched the
Kennedy Center honors? once a year,
six individuals are chosen who have
artistically impacted the world.
pure human talent.
clean. original. magnificent.
dance and music and acting that
melts your heart. paints the air
with an energy that forces us
to recognize the awesome power of
the Divine, and we raise our arms...
throw them toward the sky...above
the cold hardness of life. because
of the extraordinary talent birthed
in these flawed, otherwise common lives, we
somehow feel aligned with the rare
beauty of the universe...and our Creator.

and we are changed.
inspired. transformed.
if God can take these and change the world,
what can He do in us?

it is like the Christmas season
for me. my children come bounding in
from their worlds. the refrigerator
is filled with goodies. there are hugs
and kisses. we are a family.
we have found our way through
difficult stuff. tried to stand together.
prayed for each other. and now,
here we are. safe because of the
walls of love that stand around us.

but---
several days later, the bedrooms
are a mess. i have been doing laundry.
feeding everyone. X-Boxes and computer
wires and bodies sprawled everywhere
to play and sleep. chaos takes over.
a tense moment between two brothers.
one needs more responsibility.
another drinks too much.
and i zip my lips. for eighteen years
of each of their lives, i did my feeble
best to teach and guide them. to quietly
live truth out before them.

is your family perfect?
do you have MOMENTS when you all
get together? tensions?

merry, glowing, Christmas letters
make me want to curl up into
a fetal position of stark depression.
no one in the world needs to hear
of other families' perfections.
at least, i don't.

my heart beats for my children.
where they are. where they are going.
how they hurt. is Jesus everything
to them? have i messed up too much?

they know they are my stars
and sunrise, and a million setting
suns. and we are warriors. tight.
loss and sorrow and pain have bound
us together. fiercely.

but have i set the right tone?
taught the truth of what really matters?
love and forgiveness and that
Jesus is the SOLID ROCK. we cannot
go anywhere unless we realize that.

anything...everything...
is easier than looking at my
late teens and early twenty year olds
and praying...pleading with God
that i have prepared them for life.

let me know about your Christmas.
just...please do not sound too glorious.
life is really not about a God-given talent
where we are applauded for our great
contribution to society at the Kennedy Center.
life is taking one day at a time,
and living in such a way
that all those who pass by
feel the warmth and hope and love,
and are changed.

It came from the very heart of God

2009-01-06T12:35:00.000-08:00

brandt was playing
with his friend at the kitchen’s
edge. i was stirring homemade soup
at the stove.

a voice,
ann, go get three hundred for phillip’s
mother.

three hundred?! i barely made it
every month with four children. i began
to argue, but only briefly.

quietly, i slipped to my bedroom.
took the cash. wrote a note on a card.
this is from God. His idea.
and sealed the envelope.

brandt, i want you and phillip
to take this envelope to his mother.

it held no meaning for them,
and they chased each other
out the door.

i was busy in the kitchen.
the boys stayed outside.
the experience slipped my mind.

maybe an hour later,
the doorbell rang.
when i opened it,
there stood phillip’s mother.
tears running down her face.
holding my envelope.

ann! i cannot take this.
it is way too much money.

yes, you can, i smiled.

no, i hardly know you.

that does not matter because
it is from Jesus, and not from me.
He told me to do this.

oh, ann.
and she began to weep.

we are mothers, dottie.
living in apartments.
always struggling to have
enough money, and brandt
says your husband is very sick.
we know ALL about that!

ann…do you think
we could use this
to visit the grand canyon?
my husband’s dream is to see
it one time.

the husband and father.
dying.
how well i know that journey.
will had died a year before
and no one has a life when
someone is dying in the house.
all the focus…the effort…goes
to the dying. stress and anxiety
and worry and things to do
for them.

dottie, you can go to the grand canyon,
or buy yourself something new to
wear. or a little painting, anything!
this is for Jesus. He loves you so.
and even if you don’t know where
He is, He is watching over you.
day and night.

she wiped the tears.
thanked me profusely,
though it was not from me.

it came from the
very heart of God.
and i happened to be
listening. like i should all
the time

doctor's office...

2008-12-02T17:44:00.000-08:00

i was in the lab
waiting for my blood to be drawn
the door opened.
a sweet, engaging little boy,
four or five,
bounded in with his young,
beautiful, panicked mother and
grandmother following.
our eyes met, the mother’s and mine.
something registered in me.
she seemed fearful.

it is instinctual. the unspoken
bond mothers share. a private
club whose membership only
requires a mother with love and compassion
for all children, everywhere.

the child’s name was called.
i got it! once again, our eyes locked,
and I prayed she could sense my
compassion. and I nodded understanding.

the lab consisted of tiny cubicles
separated by their curtains.
i was called next, and before they
could find a vein in my arm
loud sobs empted in the next cubicle.

no mommy! mommy, please!!
terrified screams. wailing.

as a mother of four, i had
been here many times.

my blood was drawn.
i started to leave, the child
still sobbing. i stopped. still.
opening my purse, i saw a five dollar bill.
i turned back to where the child was.
in his mother’s arms, still sobbing.
with no invitation, i walked in and
took his small hand. put the five dollars
in his palm, and closed his fingers around it.

you are a very brave, little boy!
buy a treat. whatever you
like. and i kissed his fingers.
he smiled, and i walked out.

such an amazing day.
i had not noticed how clear
the sky was. a cool breeze in
my hair, on my face.
two mothers, orchestrated by
God’s hand, had crossed
paths at the same
moments. something taller
than the sky, majestic…beautiful…
had transpired.

one simple day.
a few moments.
a child and his adoring
mother. an idea from God
that i happened to catch.
the sun crossed our faces.

beautiful God.
tears wiped away.
a bond formed
with hardly a word
spoken.

dance with me.
party! because love lives.
love changes everything.
God promises.