"... a daughter..."

(This is a part of a larger thought, it may be more clear if you start with "... a girl...")

This word first started rolling around in my head last May. I was listening to Chris Brown story tell Jesus healing the woman who had been sick for 12 years. Right there in the story Jesus calls this grown woman "daughter".
Tomorrow night I'm teaching at Sycamore about God's heart for kids, and how kids can listen to what the Spirit tells them. In the midst of that the plan is it'll be pointed out that we are God's children. (1John 3:1)
Really what's been on the forfront of my mind is a picture of me sitting on the couch with God and I am crying. Crying a lot. Letting all the tears flow and the sobs come. Crying because I'm scared I haven't shown him that I love him, nerves that he'll decided I'm not dependable and give up on me. Sitting and crying with these thoughts. But I'm not siting alone. Remember I'm on the couch with God.  He's letting me hide in his shoulder as I non verbally voice all my worries and fears.

God is brilliant and loving. When he gave me that picture of my heart he didn't just make it up but used my memory. There was a evening were I was distraught over something that my seem ridiculous to the passer by but to me it was shaking my world.  My dad sat with me, crying with me, feeling my sorrow and wanting to take it away. Not because what was hurting me was large and evil but because he is my dad, and he doesn't want to see his daughter in woe.  I have never had to prove my love to my dad. He has loved me since before I was born, nothing I do can change that love.

God was using this memory and this picture of my dad to try to tell me with him it's the same. He wants me to go ahead and crawl on his lap and cry about the silly lies that have been running in my mind and ringing out my heart. He wants me to rest at peace and joy in him, in our relationship together instead of always being worried whether or not he is disappointed in me. 

"... maybe a prophetess..."

(This is a part of a larger thought, it may be more clear if you start with "... a girl...")

Honestly this one thought, this one descriptive word: "prophetess" is why I originally had such hesitation in writing....  "This whole post was started today by doing battle with myself whether or not I could share a responsive journal entry to the question 'What's your story?'" 

How does one know for sure they are a prophet? Isn't that a somewhat conceited thing to think about ones' self? Sure you could be, but if you honestly  know that divine, eternal, all knowing, all powerful God has reached his hand in to your life and given you a gift so you might join him in the restoration of all creation, it would be humbling. 

Probably the best way I can describe prophet is "truth speaker". Truth from God to the person God says to share it with. Nothing fancy, just truth. I'm not sure how this is different then other people listening to God and speaking.... I think I'll be able to share more insight further down the rode.

Currently I'm in the midst of a journey about this. Trying to learn to quiet my heart to ask and hear what God says, then say it. Not to come up with my own words or delay his or hold it back, but to be faithful in all (including words) that he has given me. 

The ending is already known: this gift is not for my own glory, but for the glory of God. 

What's Christmas without cupcakes?

Dream job. That's what I have. I get to think things up then make them happen. Reality is my ideas are kinda good, like normal cake vs. my great grandma's cake. My ideas are normal cake and God's ideas are crazy good, like my great grandma's cake. Thankfully God is invested in me and my job and shares his ideas with me. Sometimes we're in sync from the beginning sometimes he shows up last minute with a "saving the day-out of thin air" brilliant idea. Last week was one of those times.

All of October & November- Knew I had Kid's Christmas Night. Thought it would come together. Got caught off guard, things fell through :/ wrong type of falling. Started really praying about it as November was rounding it's bend. Was completely unsure about what was going to happen.

Tuesday-ready to cancel the whole night, talked it over with my parents. Decided it'll be okay, still doable.

Wednesday- After a lonnng talk with Randy I started pulling people in, asking them to do what they do well.

Saturday- returned a few texts

Sunday 2pm- show up to a task force starting to hit full swing

Sunday 4pm- the room has been transformed, the kids mouths are gaping & are wide eyed.

Next 2 hours there's sugar and glitter flying! A stellar movie shown by Backyard Studios Dancing, pictures being taken and people who worship together meeting each other. (at last)

6pm-7pm everything gets torn down. You wouldn't know the kid party of the year had just happened.  :)

God has such good ideas.  He honestly is the only one who can take the smallest amount of credit for how amazingly well it went.  I'm glad I get to be along for the ride :)

"...a women waiting for her man..."

part of a greater thought, check out "...a girl..."

As a child I knew one day I wanted to get married. I had many outlandish notions that seemed very romantic, the main one being that he would die fighting in the Civil War and I would have to give birth to our child alone. Then my dead husband's best friend would marry me and help raise the child as part of an oath the two of them made on the battle field.  Great right? Except for the whole my husband dying and the Civil War ending 147 years ago.  Thankfully we don't always get what we wish for.
The years passed and I gained some sense. I meet good men who were kind and were interested in me. For some reason it thankfully never went beyond friendship for many years, as I grew more into myself. I believe if I had married at 18 as was my jr.high wish I would be a stranger to a large part of who I am.  And would have missed the many adventures God has taken me on to show me more of who he is.

(I am by no means discouraging young marriage, just telling my story)

All of the college years I would have told you one day I would marry and join my husband in his calling. this means dropping mine, it at the most taking 2nd place. This idea seems to show a lack of understanding the importance of what God had asked me to do and also displaying a faulty view of partnership.

God has placed a call on my life, I am just at the beginning of dreams with God.  These are big dreams.  I've become aware of the fact that whomever I marry will have to help me nurture these dreams and encourage me forward when I'm tired and don't want to keep going.

Last year a prayer of my heart was verbalized by a friend when she prayed that God would be preparing my husband to come alongside me in my calling. 

alongside |əˈlô ng ˈsīd; əˈlä ng-|
preposition (also alongside of)
close to the side of; next to : she was sitting alongside him | [as adv. ] the boat came alongside.
• together and in cooperation with
• at the same time as or in coexistence with


God and I have had many conversations on marriage and matters of the heart and there is a very sweet story he has taken me on that I am waiting for him to completely unfold, but what he's taken me on thus far has taught me to wait for what is yet to come.

p.s. Also chose to use the word Woman because, I don't believe one has to be married to be a women but rather that being a woman is being wholly who girls were created to be... see "... a woman..."

"... an old soul..."

pre script part of a series see "... a girl..." 

Each time I sit down to write the next post it feels like the trickiest one yet. Same with today.

Old Soul is a term I've been using since high school to describe myself, but I've never really broken it down till now, excuses my clumsy attempts to put words to my thoughts.... 
The words like: noble, brave, honorable, wise, gentle and healing are ones that I gravitate towards. Remembering stories of old while living in the present day. Believing in weight and gravity and in joy and blessing.  Knowing that my time here on earth is short, but it can build on the centuries of lives that passed before me. Also I can live as a gift for the life that takes my place when I leave. 

Dear Aiden,

Last night I missed your mom's call. How I wish her and I could have talked.  Talk about the thoughts that were going through her brain and heart as she knew she'd meet you the next day. This evening your dad text me to keep me in the loop. Thousands of miles away but wanting to be there. Pushing has started, you can't be far off.
I head to a party your grandparents, aunt and uncle are there. We all have our phones we all have smiles and we all can't do anything but wait.... Aunt Megan & I decided to shoot some hoops. It's dark, party lights aren't great for depth perception, but it doesn't matter cause we are just pacing the hospital floor on that basketball court. Every time one of our phones makes a noise we catch our breath.

Still waiting... your mom's been at this for a while. When are you going to cry to let us know everything is alright?

We hear a commotion coming from inside. Someone tells Megan she's an aunt. We run in and your mom is on speaker phone. We all gather around to hear every word. You're healthy,  you're named, you're blessed. Your parents are hungry. Your grandma cries, such joy, love and pride flowing down her face.
The call ends, we all hug. We tell the world. We hug some more.

I haven't seen you yet, in person or a picture. But I'm sure you're handsome and perfect and the amazing balance of your mom and dad. They are good, kind people. Always reflect them.   Welcome to this world little "fire of God". I can't wait to know you.
Love,
Auntie Annie 

"... a storyteller..."

(part of a greater thought, see "... a girl..." )

It's dark, maybe there is a fire glowing, maybe the only light is that of the stars.  There is one voice you can hear. Softly it starts building and dropping just like a piece of music. You have to strain to hear each word. Each word winds the story around another bend, taking you further into it's self. In the darkness your mind has nothing to see but the pictures that are being suggested to you.  You see places you've never been, you began to feel for characters you have only just met. They hope and grow week, they encounter incredible evil and display outstanding good.  For the duration of the story you can believe in light winning against dark, and in love outlasting bitterness, hatred and fear.

Someone has lead you, transported you, squeezed past your walls of practicality and disbelief.
There are many ways to tell a story but my favorite is with me telling it out loud directly to the listeners who are right beside me. You compete against every distraction that can fly, walk, or fall into the space. But those two words "the space" is part of why I love it. You can tell a story anywhere. In a moment a friend has left the hospital. A nerves child forgets he's backstage. Homesick girls are lost in a love story.  And squirmy boys are slaying dragons.