A little bit of Christmas honesty::through another's eyes

"Last night I couldn't shut off the voices in my head. I feel so inadequate sometimes. I'm too hard on myself. I hate how I have the inability to feel. Sometimes I have stupid irrational fears. I'm constantly comparing myself to others. I don't see the point in investing in deep relationships because people always drift apart. I feel like I fail at my relationship with God. I'm not perfect. Really, I'm not. Sometimes I feel like I'm at war with myself and I just hate myself. Sometimes I just wanna cry, for once. You made me look at myself thru your eyes and I start to understand...maybe I can be loved. Maybe I am beautiful. But do you see who I am, deep inside? Beyond the surface?"

"Anna. I know who you are. I understand what you are saying. And it doesn't change one thing. No one is perfect. Nobody! Jesus was the only perfect person that has and will walk this earth. I truly love you, Anna, because I know who you are."

"But who AM I?"

"Anna. Life is about finding out who you are. It's not just going to appear overnight. Who are you trying to be? Who do you want to be? You won't be perfect, Anna. But you are perfect thru my eyes."

"Really, I don't think I deserve to be loved like this."

"Every girl deserves to be loved. Every girl deserves to be treated right."

"I have so much to learn."

"Well. Let me learn with you."

((because sometimes you just need to borrow someone else' eyes to see yourself)

Beloved Jesus...let me be so close to you I can see my reflection in your eyes. 

thoughts from the other side of the world

::sometimes I think to myself, "I don't want God's heart because it hurts too much. It hurts too much feeling what he feels." But then I hold precious babies in my arms, I listen to stories of Syrian refugees, and jump up and down with the children. I see the beaming smile on the proud father's face as his son learns to walk and the joy that glows in every household. And it reminds me. There is hope. There is always hope. And there is a Jesus who holds this children close and dear to his heart, so close they can hear this gentle breathing and soft heartbeat.

Will you hold me that close to your heart, oh, sweet Jesus? so close I can feel your heart beating and your

::practiced skits on top of the roof yesterday with the sound of the call of prayer in the background.

::the good thing about being afraid you'll screw up your relationship is it forces you to run to God, begging on your knees for wisdom. Determine to please God in your relationships. Only him. 

::next week I have the privilege of teaching kids about what it means to dream with God.

Show me, oh God, what your dreams for me are. more numerous than the stars are your dreams for me.

::you can't have these people, Satan. we'll put up a fight. he loves them too much.

"talk about jesus. don't talk about christianity. what are you passionate about? are you passionate about religion?" 

sometimes I think Muslims love Jesus more than Christians. and i wonder. will muslims be in heaven?

::have you ever taken a shower that is so cold it takes your breath away?

::sometimes I still feel like a five year old that is daily changing what she wants to do with her life. mostly i just want to love people. i have this crazy belief that's all that really matters, not what job you work at or where you live. 

Broken Beautiful

I'm looking in a mirror and all I can see is a broken reflection starting back at me.

A reflection broken by the how the world defines beauty.

By the outward appearance, as something you can see.

A reflection broken by the world's standard of perfection.

By the numbers on the scale or your size.

Teach me to see yourself through your eyes.

Cuz I'm looking in the mirror and all I can see is a broken reflection staring back at me.

Father God, when you look at me, are you disappointed with what you see?

With the tenderness of a lover, he replies, “You are the treasure I hold closely in my heart.

You are my mosaic, my masterpiece, a work of art.

If only you could see yourself the way I do.

So I am replacing the lies with what is true.

Dear Child, listen closely and you will understand.

I hold you tightly in the palm of my hand.

You are the rose, the rose for which I cried.

And these are the tears, the tears for you I cried.

Will you let me capture your heart at this moment in time?

Precious Child, will you be mine?”

Cuz now I'm looking in a mirror and all I can see is a beautiful reflection staring back at me.

Great-Great Grandma Emma

When she was 61 years old, my Great-Great Grandmother Emma Austin wrote about her life. My favorite parts are when she talks about her husband who she always referred to as “prince charming.” She called her five children “fairies.” Below is a couple clips from her story...The first is when she got engaged to prince charming and the second clip is when they got married and the last clip is when Prince Charming died. Sometimes I think that fairy tales really can come true...

I well remember the day I drove away and left my brother David and "Prince Charming." We just looked at each other - no goodbye. I think then it came over me how much he meant to me and what life would mean without him. Things went on very quiet and peaceful after the big Indian scare excitement and one day in July (yes, I remember the day and date - July 25, 1885) "Prince Charming" and I and some others were out on the prairie picking sand plums that grew wild on little bushes. And some way "Prince Charming" and I wandered off from the others, and he told me he loved me and asked me to be his wife.

I had known I think from the first that I loved him so I did not need to ask for time to think about it so I said "Yes," and then he kissed me for the first time.

***

Prince Charming and I decided to get married in September. My Mother and brother would not hear of me going away far. They persuaded us to build on this 120 acres deeded to me so just 40 rods from my Mother's house, "Prince Charming" build a house. It was 14 x 16', had shingled roof, real siding, was lathed and plastered, had three large windows that opened, two boughten doors, a real hard pine floor (not rough wide boards like most had), doors and windows were cased. It also had a mop board all around the floor, was painted in and outside, and a cellar under the whole room.

It was a fine castle "Prince Charming" had to take his Princess to. There were only three other houses in all that country that were built that way: the Jim Murrays and Mr. Tull and W. S. Hustins. "Prince Charming's" brother Frank and my brother helped him do all the work. The lumber and all the material cost $87 and it was hauled from Attica, Kansas. There were no announcement parties or showers or luncheons for the bride. Everything went on very quietly. We raised a lot of onions that year and one day in August my brother and I pulled 15 bushel and went to Medicine Lodge and sold them at a general store for one dollar a bushel. Oh! what wealth!

I got me a white pattern lawn dress, embroidery, and all in the pattern had sold early in the summer for $5 but as it was late in the season, it was selling for $3 - my such a wonderful bargain. I got a white corset for 50 cents, some lace and white ribbon for $1.00, a pair of black cotton hose for 20 cents and my outfit was complete. I had lots of nice underwear. I made my dress myself. I had a nice pair of black toe slippers that "Prince Charming" got me for a present early in the spring.

"Prince Charming" never sent me costly flowers and fancy boxes of bonbons. We did not go to ice cream parlors. Instead he bought a cow and traded his nice set ring he had for a cow and his gold watch for a horse.

I think I will mention this right here that one day in the early summer of 1886 he came over while I was washing and wringing the clothes out by hand, and he said his mother had a clothes wringer. And a few days later he came from Medicine Lodge one day and gave me a clothes wringer. I think I appreciated that gift more than most girls today would a dozen large American Beauty roses. I used that clothes wringer many many years. "Prince Charming" said I looked very sweet to him in my new white wedding dress. 

***

We were planning on a happy Christmas with Mary and family, but on Christmas evening at 9 o'clock, December 24, 1925, my dear "Prince Charming" bid me goodbye and went home to God. His last words to me were "I am ready to go."

No one but my God knows the heartache and loneliness, but I will try and be brave and go on to the end, and try and live each day so I can say when He calls me, "I am ready."

Our little home is broken up. I am at my daughter Mary's. They are good and kind to me, and I feel God is good and I knew He will not forsake me. I feel that He has touched his hand on mine when my dear "Prince Charming" left us, and as I have written all this bit of history of our early life, his face and form as he was younger, is ever before me.

My thoughts seem to go back in the past, and they are the pictures that are plainest. He was 65 years old when he left me, and I am 61. And now as I come to the end of this story, my one thought is that God was good to us all the way. 

It's a beautiful night

We're looking for something dumb to do

Hey, baby, I think I wanna marry you

Is it the look in your eyes?

Is it the dancing juice?

I think I wanna marry you

Take Me Into the Water

Fear is a wall.

Brick by brick, I've built this wall.

I am afraid of some of the places God will ask me to go, the people and things he will ask me to give up, and the things he will ask me to do.

Fear is not from God. I realized that in worship today.

But my fears come from an improper understanding of who I think God is.

Why is it we think that God will send us to some terrible place or take all of our friends away if we surrender?

God is a loving Father who simply wants the best for his children.

If we could only grasp how much God loves us, it would change everything.

A.W. Tozer once said, “What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.”

Why? Why does it matter how we perceive God? Because the way understand God determines the way we live. I'll be honest, I struggle so much with trusting God. But bit-by-bit, God is taking me out of the boat and into the water.

When you read the story of Peter walking on water, there's a couple things that are important. First, the reason that Peter was crazy enough to attempt walking on water was because he knew Jesus. He deeply, intimately knew Jesus. If a stranger had walked up to him and said, “Yo, Pete, come walk on le water,” chances are, he wouldn't have. But Peter trusted Jesus enough to do something insane, something wild, something that was absurd to the other disciples.

How much do you trust Jesus? Enough to walk out on the water?

The Bible says that when Peter saw the wind and waves, he became afraid.

My question is...what should be be afraid about?

Peter was afraid of the wind and waves.

I want to be more afraid of the comfort of the boat and cushy Christianity than the wind and waves.

I want to jump simply because he promises he will catch me.

I want my eyes to be so locked into Jesus' that I don't even notice the wind and waves.

Stop asking yourself, “What will happen if I do?” Ask yourself, “What is at stake if I don't?”

There is too much at risk not to risk.

Because He. He is worthy.

So pull me a little closer

Take me a little deeper

I want to know your heart

I want to know your heart

Cuz your love is so much sweeter

Than anything I've tasted

I want to know your heart

Ken and Barbie

 In today's culture, we point to photo shopped models plastered on billboards and declare that is what beauty is. We are told that if you don't live up to that certain standard of perfection, you are not beautiful. We are taught that beauty is defined by our size, by the numbers on the scale. Sounds ludicrous, right? But tell yourself a lie long enough and before you know it, it becomes the truth. Eventually the lie starts to creep into your life and bit by bit, begins to destroy you. But it doesn't stop there. It won't be satisfied until it kills you. Statistically speaking, 20% of girls and women who struggle with anorexia will go on to die prematurely from it. We are being brain washed with a lie. Just like Eve, we ate the lie. Also like Eve when she ate the forbidden fruit, the lie is killing slowly but surely killing us.

    Something I can't stress enough is how much power words have—even if you're “just joking.” I remember times when people would jokingly say I was fat. It didn't help that I already didn't feel good enough, I didn't feel like I lived up to the culture's harsh standard of perfection. I thought I had to look a certain way, be a certain size, be a certain height in order to be accepted. It didn't help that I already struggled with insecurities and their teasing words only added to the mountain of self-image issues. People don't understand how much power words have. It was because of their words that I almost developed an eating disorder because I didn't think I was “good enough” (whatever that means). I remember how I would weight myself so, so much and try to watch my calorie intake. Those of you who know me well are probably really surprised by that part of me you didn't know. It's not something I'm proud of, but it's the truth. Never underestimate the power of words.

     Even these days, I sometimes still struggle with believing it when someone tells me I'm beautiful. I am tempted to believe this warped truth that if I'm not perfect, then I'm not beautiful. The culture and media has successfully sold a lie disguised as the truth and we have hungrily devoured it up. When I was talking to Nick about beauty the other day and how I didn't feel like I lived up to the standard of life sized Barbie dolls, he replied, “Ahh, Anna, but you're looking at beauty with your eyes. You have to look with your heart.” Beauty in it's truest definition is not something we can merely see with we eyes. It is something we see with we hearts. “I think,” Nick told me, “the definition of beautiful is something that makes the world a better place.” Like Nick went on to say, the world has corrupted the definition of beauty. We get fake tans, fake hair, fake nails, and call that beauty.

     Maybe. Just maybe beauty is more than that.

     I beg to offer that beauty is authenticity.

     It's not just enough to get recognize the lie and get rid of it, though that's a good starting place. You must replace lies with truth.

    Fact: Your beauty is not defined by what you see in the mirror.

    Fact: you are beautiful.

    Fact: Your beauty is not defined by the numbers on the scale.

    Fact: You are beautiful. 

    Fact: Your beauty is not measured by lies from your past.

    Fact: You are beautiful.Nothing can change that.So own it.

My Alter

Sometimes I feel like I am suffocating in the doubts and questions of the future, the unknown. Sometimes I just wish I could shut my brain off and stop thinking. Sometimes I hate thinking because when I think, I start to sink. Sometimes I cling onto things and people, afraid to let go, because I am afraid of what will happen if I do.

I struggle.

I fall.

I doubt God.

But I am learning.

I am learning that I must hold everything in an open palm.

But I know that I am not the first who has struggled with surrendering everything to God.  

So I crack open my Bible to read Genesis 22 where God tells Abraham to surrender his son on the alter.

God says, “Take your Son.”

As if that's not enough, he says, “Your only Son.”

Then if that's not enough, he adds, “Whom you love.”

And what does he say next?

“Sacrifice him.”

Abraham...take your Son. Your only Son. Whom you love. And offer him as a burnt offering.

If you don't understand the significance of this, let me rewind.

God promised Abraham that he would have a son.

He promised Abraham that his descendants would be a numerous as the stars.

Isaac was Abraham's dream. He was the fulfillment of the promise. He was the answer to Abraham's prayers.

And now...God was asking him to give up his dream.

God was telling Abraham to lay his dream, his answer to prayer, his only Son whom he loved on the alter.

What does Abraham do? Early the next morning, he gets up, packs his donkey, grabs his son, and they're off. It's easy for us to read this story because we know how it ends. We know that God's angel steps in at the last minute and tells Abraham to lay down his sword, but you have to realize that Abraham didn't know that.

I can't help but wonder what was running through his mind as he journeyed with his son. I wonder what he was thinking when he raised his knife to kill Isaac. His only son. Whom he loved. Imagine the relief he felt when the angel commands him to put down his weapon.

Unlike Abraham, sometimes I told my “Isaac” with a clenched fist. I'm afraid to give it to God and lay it on the alter because I am afraid that God will take it away. I know that God is a loving Father who only wants what is best for me, yet I still struggle to trust him completely. So I hold on to my Isaac, unwilling to lay my doubts and questions on the alter. Unwilling to trust. Because sometimes faith feels a lot like falling. Instead of trusting God with the future, I stress and worry about it. And then the unknown because an Isaac and God tells me I must lay it on the alter. I must surrender my Isaac.

Despite how uncomfortable and awkward it feels, I slowly gather the stones required to build an alter. Stone by stone, the alter takes shape. Then I heap my worries, my questions, my fears, my doubts on the alter.

Today I am laying my Isaac on the alter.

I am jumping into the unknown simply because God promise He will catch me.

I am trusting the One who holds the future instead of trying to figure it out.

Because, like Abraham, I want Jesus more than I want my Isaac.

Because I love Jesus more than I love my Isaac.

My Jesus. My only Jesus. Whom I love.