Then There was Snow

At the moment it is 7 degrees outside in Grove City, Pennsylvania. And it's only going to get colder.

At the moment there are quite a few inches of snow on the ground in Grove City, Pennsylvania.  And it's only going to pile deeper.

And everything in me wants to complain and wish for spring despite the fact that it's January 27th and as we all know, spring is almost always fashionably late here.

But somehow, something in me wants to look out the window and smile because it IS beautiful.  It IS wonderful.  It IS amazing.  Even though we've had enough.  Even though it's cold.  Even though we have to shovel our driveways.

Because humans have this strange ability to only see the bad when they're looking right at a fountain of good.

I do this all the time. I mistake full for empty, love for flattery, silence for indifference, neediness for hypocrisy, and the list goes on.

And personally, I don't like winter.  I don't like the fact that it's going to be -23 degrees tonight.  Or the fact that I know it will still be snowing in March.  Or that the worst month of the year - February - is creeping up faster than we think.

But I don't want to just grit my teeth and get through it.  Because if I keep doing that my life will be over before I know it and all I will be able to say I did is "survive".

Don't you want more than that?

To string all of these half-formed thoughts into a somewhat-whole one, what I want to say is this.  I sometimes hate winter.  And snow.  And cold.  But God created this season just like every other, and He wants so much more for us than to just get through these grueling 3 (or 4...or 5) months.

He wants us to see the beauty.  Even if the beauty is in the hope.  Even if the hope is in spring.

But looking outside, even as I write this, my heart sinks a little, thinking, will the cold ever end?  Because looking at the frozen world now, I can't imagine it being green again.

This frozen world is our fountain of blessings.  Each day, each hour, each season of our lives come with their own blessings and their own trials.  God gives us a choice.  He doesn't say "suck it up and get through".  He doesn't say "love every moment with a sunny smile on your face".

He simply asks us to see it as a blessing,
see it as a promise,
see it as hope.

"Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer."

~Romans 12:12

...Love, Anna...

Hold Out Your Hands

So. Since the last time quite a bit has gone down in this little life of mine.

One. I took a hop, skip, and a jump across the pond and spent two weeks in England.

Two. I turned the sweetest of numbers - 16.

First of all, I must say that I am astonished by how much my two weeks in England have changed me.

I mean, really.  God is amazing.  To sum up my trip and all it opened my eyes to, I wanted to share with you my last journal entry from my trip - my "conclusion".

Though I can't wait to be home at last, I can't help but feel a little pang of sadness leaving behind the greatest adventure thus far in my 16 years.  I will miss England dearly.  It holds a richer and longer and more vibrant history than any I've ever known.  

What have I learned?  So much.  So much, in fact, that more than anything, this trip has made me crave knowledge more than ever.  There's so much I want to know, to see, to experience.  And the world is so much bigger than high school and Grove City, PA.  There are so many people and so many stories that I'll never know.

And God.  God is evident throughout history.  He is sovereign.  He is wise.  He is loving.  He always wins in the end.

And cities.  Too much a swarming chaos for these meek eyes and tender heart.  Too much noise and too many lights and not enough blue sky and not enough living for all the lives that find homes there.

And stained glass windows.  They pour into my heart like they know me and want to fill me but can't because they portray heaven but do not contain it in themselves.

And martyrs.  Make me wonder in confused aching: Would I die for You?

And confidence.  I have more perspective, more hope, more direction, and assurance of who I am and what I ought to become.

And mortality.  Too many monuments, too many tombs, too many "memoriams", and Latin I can't understand and faces I'll never see.  And people, lives, love - gone  as soon as they came and forgotten in the same moment. 

And immortality.  How we weren't made for this world - not now, not ever.  And we will live or die, forever.

And believing.  How Jesus is the only thing I can hold onto.  How He is always there, always shining, even when I turn my back, even when I doubt the sun is there behind the clouds.  

And I am not running away anymore.  I am crawling, walking, flying, until I reach You.  Before then, I will learn Your world so I can know You better.

Talk about being "full".  God has really filled my life in the past few weeks by showing me His world and His love for me, and for all.  

And as I sit here on my bedroom floor writing this, I look around my room, and think for the first time in so long, "I truly am full". 

I am full of new knowledge and new perspectives.

I am full of family that loves me more than I deserve.

I am full of friends who are more than I could ever ask for.

I am full of music.

I am full of laughter.

I am full of the LORD.

All I had to do is hold out my hands to Him. 

...Love, Anna...

One Word 2014

It hardly seems like it's been an entire year since I chose my "One Word 2013".
But here we are in 2014.

I wish I could tell you that I've had multiple deep and sudden revelations about my word for last year - "living sacrifice" - but I haven't.  I never had an "aha!" moment when I finally figured out what being a living sacrifice really meant.

Instead, I trudged along through the year, through change, blessings, brokenness, hope, new friends and old friends, tears and laughter.  I learned that being a living sacrifice doesn't mean always being joyful, always being kind, always being Godly.

Instead, I think it's not how you behave in trials, but what you learn from them.  It's getting hurt, but forgiving.  It's being lied to, but still being honest.  It's loving without any expectation of being loved.  It's hoping without any real evidence of what is hoped for.  It's letting go of pain even when it would be so much easier to stay bitter. It's trusting His will, even if it's not your own will. It's refusing to be cynical, judgmental, selfish, conformed, when all the signs around you tell you that's what you should be.

I've learned that it's hard.  It's really, really hard.  I haven't mastered the skill of being a living sacrifice.  Not even close.  And I've also learned through the many wanderings of my heart and mind, that at the end of the day, it's really the only thing I want.  It's the only thing I can give to Him for all He's given to me.

"This year," I've chanted time and time again in my head, "This year I want to be different."

This year I want to be new.  This year I want to be full.

I want to be filled with His love,
with His peace,
with His hope,
with His joy.
I want to fill others with all of the gifts He has given me.
I want to feel the fullness of
His light.
I want to be full of Him,
of God,
of Jesus.

Because nothing - and I mean NOTHING - in this world is going to fill us up the way He will.

This year I want to get back to that one simple notion.

I just want to be full again.

So there it is.  You have my word.

And as 2014 brings, well, whatever it may bring, my prayer is that God will fill our lives with the fullness of His love and of His grace and of His hope.

...Love, Anna...