"...A promise of the Spirit coming and flooding our lives..."

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

 "...A promise of the Spirit coming and flooding our lives..."
It seems everywhere I turn this is the subject on peoples lips, said maybe slightly differently but still this idea of not lies, doubt, greed or self but the pure Spirit of God overwhelming us. Being what spills out when we open our moths to speak. The view we make decisions from. the drum beat we dance to.

 This last weekend I ran into this idea head on... a situation blew way out proportion through some loud opinionated "suggestions" "beliefs".  I had unintancialy done something someone considered disrespectful and in return that person "let me know". If this had been me and the queen she would have let me know while sipping tea calmly that what I did was a little off and I would have said sorry for offending and asked her if she wanted sugar in her tea and that would have been the end.

But....

Thats not how it went down, I cried other people got involved, I ran off and she stormed off.
Now what do we do? Both her and I believe in Jesus as our savior and God as our father and now as sisters must come together and reconcile. There has to be an act 2. If I truly believe the Spirit can come and flood our lives I have to believe he can work this out and change our hearts to be more like his. I can't give into lies, or doubt, I can't be righteous I must be gracious... My name means "God is gracious". I have to believe I don't know best (no matter how much my brain tells me I do) and instead ask God what he wants done and how I'm to act as him or... let himself act through me.

"...and part of a promise..."

 (This is a part of a larger thought, it may be more clear if you start with "... a girl...")
 
So just like any human lots of doubt can float through my brain.  "What did that really mean?" "What could really happen?" "Am I the one for the task?... probably not"

If you remember back to the fantastic pray summits I've been to... there have been some pretty cool, nope mind blowing prayers prayed over me.

Part of the prayer is that my generation will come to God. Seek God as their God. That I get to be apart of this title wave.

Life and lies set in and I thought there's no way I can live out those prayers, they are a dream that is simply fading away.

Then some light and clarity got into my foggy brain.

What if I believed it was possible? What if I believed that through me God could do whatever crazy thing he wanted? What if I lived my life in a way that I expected them to come true instead of wondering?

As I see it I have two choices; I can either spend every day choosing to forget, or choosing to believe.   

"... a sister..."

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

sister |ˈsistər|
noun
1 a woman or girl in relation to other daughters and sons of her parents.
• a sister-in-law.
• a close female friend or associate, esp. a female fellow member of a labor union or other organization.
• (often Sister) a member of a religious order or congregation of women.

A couple years ago our church did a serious called "Blue and Pink Elephant- a look at sexuality". Part way through the series I told one of my brothers (Andrew) that I wanted to have a husband so I could put into practice 'being a godly woman & making a guy feel like a man' to with Andrew wisely answered: "Well you already have 3 brothers and a dad, you could start with them." ... yep.

We aren't supposes to just live past anyone in this life, act like their not there or we have nothing to say. Instead we have the opportunity to breath life into people... and who do we have the most opportunity with? Those we live with. We expect teachers and pastors to be lifegivers, what if brothers and sisters were too?

"... 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. 

"...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. 

"... 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.

"...an artist..." (in the inbetween)

(part of a series see "...a girl...") 

Well dear blog, this evening I fully meant to write a stellar post about being an artist, maybe mention all it's joys and hardships. But instead I spent time with family, put away laundry, sent some vocational emails, caught my calender up to date (my paper calender, one that one must write in for it to know what you are thinking) and responded to a birthday invitation.  All the while my neat pile of art supplies sat quietly lurking, waiting for their moment of mention. Maybe I would scan in a few drawings, maybe I would tell you why I love color so much but find myself using charcoal. Maybe I would take a tangent and tell you this city will be won or lost in the arts. And explain what a need we have for selfless artist.  I could tell you of the podcast that have helped put words to my heart, the men who have given me the freedom to not bother with questions (let alone answers) and let me wonder. I could share bits from a book where I was challenged in my selfishness. Life isn't about us (news flash) but more about the life that God wants to work through us. It's then that we can delight..... I could share links of art festivals that are happening soon. Or a friends efforts to breath life back into tradition. I could share about a non profit a friend started, just so kids would have a chance to experience the joy of creating.  There are blogs and tumblers (click refresh 4x)of friends and strangers that are daily an inspiration to me.

Somewhere in the post I'd have to say, it doesn't matter what your form is, being an artist (in my book) is a way of life, it's a way of looking at the world. It is to live with a constant longing, a pull as if by the moon, to see and show the world as it was meant to be. 

"...a leader..."

pre script,  you might want to start by reading "... a girl..."

Honestly it has been a very eyeopening and thoughtful time writing this post series. As I have had to stop and ponder each aspect of my life, remember why I believe what I do and am I living in that reality.

(brief history: Up until early Spring 2011 I pretended I wasn't a leader, that people didn't follow me, that I couldn't be used as a leader even if I tried. Thought that it would be a mistake to be put in any sort of authority role, and worked hard to get rid of all responsibility. Leadership is something that I've  run from for years, and though I didn't "run" from it this last year or so, this Spring is when I started looking leadership in the eye)

What it means to be a leader has been on my mind a lot over the past two months. It started with a conversation when a friend said a leader needs to see where they want to go and take people there, also that if no one is following you're not leading, a leader acts out a plan not reacts and a leader a lines themselves with God first. Then people see that and follow.  Good words and they made me stop and look at my life and consider if I am leading.

I have had to stop and ask; Where am I leading people to?
Am I being a solid base  for people to work from? Am I following through on ideas that have been intrusted to me? Am I doing things because I think a leader should do them, or because it fits, and is a healthy thing? Do I spend more energy reacting and "managing" or establishing ways of being?

Right now God is trying to teach me the great importance of hearing two things; His heart, and the heart of the people he has given me. 

Before a meeting the other day a friend said "Be the captain of the ship, steer it towards God's vision." As much as I would love to not stick out from the crowd and never have to make a decision for any group of people, I am realizing that I'm doing them all a disservice when I don't fill my role. When I don't share where we are headed and ask for them to be stretched. 

".... a pastor's heart...."

pre script,  you might want to start by reading "... a girl..."

Honestly the reason why I'm excited to share this post is because I know everything I'm about to say has nothing to do with what I've figured out or what comes naturally to me, but rather everything is work God is doing in me.

Andrew is my brother. He is very kind, thoughtful and a good listener to peoples problems. On the other hand I see myself as; blunt, not observant, unapproachable, and talks a lot. In the past, I've said that I was the preacher and Andrew was the shepherd  (pastor heart). I tell them how it is, and he helps them get there.

Then one day I found myself overseeing children, leaders (teachers) and parents.  I knew on that day that I knew nothing about shepherding all those different people, there was no even pretending to know how.  You know when you're stumped.

That morning's reading was Matthew 18: 1-14 (especially 12-14) Jesus talks of a man who looks after one hundred sheep.  One sheep goes wondering and ends up lost. The shepherd leaves the ninety-nine to find the one who is lost.  Then ends with "In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should be lost."  I explained that I had no idea what it meant to be a shepherd of souls, and God very gently  reassured me that he would teach me. To keep my eyes on him and do as he does.

Do I always remember to follow his movements, or even watch him? Sadly no, but it is what I want to want.

"...a M.K...." (missionary kid)

(pre script this is a part of a series see "...a girl...")

Here I'm about 10

The journey for my family started in the Pacific Northwest,  I was still learning to walk when my parents dared to believe God was asking them to live boldly.


My family moved to Europe when I was seven-years-old and returned when I was twelve. I would say most of my childhood happened in Europe. It was there I played in the park with my friends, mastered ridding a bike, lost a mouthful of teeth, spent cold days sledding until all feeling left my body. It was there I ran wild in summers, building forts and spying on boys.

We lived in a post-Communism country, poor but grateful to be free. The Communist had left there mark in the cities, in the "art" and on people's hearts.

We lived in a city that has buildings older then the country on my birth certificate.  I sat in halls of kings,  walked by homes of composers and drove by Roman ruins . Visiting a castle was a favorite family hangout spot.


The church we were apart of was made up of great grandparents, grandparents and grandchildren (my peers) but very few moms or dads because they had bought into the lie they didn't need God.  Everyone at the church treated me with love and patience as I learned my way. They displayed the importance of family, the family of believers, gratitude (thanking God for what they did have), and generosity (giving freely what they had).  They knew hard times, and time was still hard but they weren't bitter. They laughed and cried.

Also we grew up in the missionary community. We all lived away from aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins. We were from everywhere but all there because God had told us to be there and His Crazy Love was the only thing that made sense ;) We prayed longing for him to step in on our behalf in a land were we had no voice. To heal sickness that we didn't understand.  To protect us as spouses and children were often apart and to provide food as every "paycheck" was a gift from someone who gave because they wanted too. We were continually surrounded by people who were clinging to their faith in God

 
When I was twelve we moved back to the "Land of the Free" we had very little shared history, I didn't know what Twinkies were, couldn't tell you the difference between 'N Sync and the Backstreet Boys, and had never been to Disneyland (this might sound childish but twelve-year-olds kinda are) 

I knew I wasn't from Europe,  they had pain and history that I hadn't experienced only felt the effects, but I didn't belong in the U.S. either, my world was bigger then theirs.

By the color of my skin I could fit into anywhere I've lived, I guess what I'm saying is because of everywhere I've lived my heart is it's own color.  (you might want to revisit "A Safe Place" )

"... a woman..."

(pre script this is a part of a series see "...a girl..." )

In no way, shape, or form is this going to cover all of what it means to be a woman, or even how I see myself as a woman. It's simply going to open a curtain and let you peer outside.

For starter lets point out the obvious; men and women are different and when a man is acting fully and freely as a man it encourages a woman to act fully and freely as a woman.  Also there seems to be a difference between what "just anyone would do" and what a woman would do.

This is what it looks like in my life....


I want to encourage the men in my life to be the men they long to be. I want to be quick to come alongside others in their journey. To use my voice to inspire people not burden them. To protect those needing protecting and not shirking from difficult conversations but speaking (and listening) in grace and truth.

Being a woman is something I would love to be. Most of the time however I go from forgetting about it, to loving it, to being afraid of it.

There'll be times when I forget all about what it means to be a woman, and just live my normale self focused life. Then something will come along that insperes me to greatness.... maybe something that was said, or the way the sun shone, or a stirring of the soul.

"... a girl..."

So the is the first of what I'm planning is going to be a little group of posts expanding the paragraph that inspired the last post: A Safe Place.  While at a conference I attended recently they had type writers and paper with the header : "What's your story?" So I started typing...

Hello, 

My name is Anna and this is a page in my story... or should I say my page in God's story:)  I'm a girl, a woman, a MK, a pastor heart, a leader, an artist, a storyteller, an old soul, a women waiting for her man, maybe a prophetess... a daughter, a sister, and part of a promise, a promise of revival. A promise of the Spirit coming and flooding our lives, our hearts, our homes, and our selves. But like I said at the beginning this story really is God's... he's just letting me join in... What will he say? Where will he move? (show up unexpectedly) What will he do? There is no telling really, all we can do is follow and listen to the whispering wind.

"... a girl..." 

"girl |gərl|
noun
1 a female child." -my computer dictionary 

For such a cool computer this is a lousy definition. When I hear the word "girl" I think someone who encases, expresses and delights in beauty, someone who plays opposite (but not at odds) with boy.

A Safe Place

      Three weeks ago I was at a leadership retreat.  It was a beautiful time of being in nature, hearing each other, and hearing God. There where intense moments of head on spiritual battle but that really wasn't the focus more of a byproduct of the other three things.  (which is a cool picture if you stop to think about it, when we are worshiping God, enjoying his blessings and seeking to buildup each other spiritual ground is fought for). During that time we were asked "What conversation is Jesus longing to have with you?" and then "What is your impossible (only doable by Jesus) dream?" 

"What conversation is Jesus longing to have with you?" 

  (The discipline was to have this conversation at Sycamore) For me this is how it went.... I sat down in the chairs with everyone else forsaking my normal role of doing announcement because Jesus said he would take care of it.  I look up to see what he's going to say, Jesus says "Welcome" while looking right at me.  When I asked God to expand on it he filled it out by saying "You are welcome." With this simple phrase came a flood of knowing I'd hidden parts of myself in different places and only family and a few close friends knew everything, every aspect of what all makes up who I am.  The problem boiled down to because I was unsure of how to be all of who I am in all areas (people groups) of my life I just don't bring up (make myself forget) the harder to figure parts, which leaves you with an non-complete me and a non-complete picture of God in me.

Less of me, less of Him, less people can glory in Him. (besides me being confused) 

 The word "welcome" hit the strain of belonging and acceptance.  Two things many of us humans struggle with (probably in part because who we tend to seek it from are also longing for it)  (I"ll probably write about this idea of belonging and acceptance more later this summer) But for now just know it's something that has been quietly haunting me since I was around 10 years-old.  That 14ish years of wondering.  So the sentence "You are welcome." is one of being fully known, belonging and accepted. Pretty cool.



That brings us to the "Impossible Dream" which is That everyone in the church would know fully who they are and have the freedom to act fully in the talents and gifts God has given them. 
It's not world peace but the Bride living in peace with who she is.

They go together in an obvious way and actually the dream has been around for at least four years and I have only been aware of me having to come out of hiding for a month.



Where does that bring me?
I feel like I have to fully live all of myself in the life I've been given today. And maybe I'll help clear they way and set an example for others to trust Jesus with their whole life.  John 10:10 "I have come that you may have life and life to the full." has been a favorite for years, but it has taken on a deeper meaning.  ".. that you may have life (all of it)..."  This last week I was in California at a conference and the question they kept asking again and again was "What's your story?"  I want to step into a place where I tell and live my story.   

Is it going to be easy? No. I have to retrain my decision making, recreate what it means to be safe.  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?" there are parts in it I would normally leave out.... but that seemed playing the coward.  Yet at the same time I don't know if I'm ready to share with a blog, that isn't read, all of who I am.  To say it all in one go?  .....