Because Life Happens

Well here I am, avoiding my notebooks and study guides and ignoring the fact that I have finals this week.

Because I'm too busy thinking about
life.

And how life
happens.

Time happens.  Time goes...too fast.

My brother got married on Saturday.  And on Wednesday, he and his wife are moving...
to Houston.

(Texas)

I don't know what to even think or write or say about all of these colliding emotions and memories and love that keep swirling all around me and I have no way to stop them.

But time is cruel in that it moves on.  It moves on without looking back.  It moves on and we have no choice but to move on with it, no matter how badly we want to pause, or to rewind, or to fast forward.

And that's okay because there is so much to look forward to.  So many new adventures and places and road trips to be had.

But I have to admit, I am really bad at endings.
I'm okay at beginnings,
pretty fantastic at middles,
and pretty fantastically horrible at
endings.

I've had to keep reminding myself that
"this is how it's supposed to be" and
"this is how you're supposed to feel".

But I know myself and I know that I fear
change
more than anything.

I know that I fear
beginnings.

But I also know that every time my eyes fill up
with tears and my heart aches
because my family lives in a different state,
it's because
love
is the greatest and most precious gift anyone can ever receive.

And I know
that even though this new chapter seems scarier and bigger and less hopeful than the one I just closed,
I know that
I am not the author, or the co-writer, or the story-teller,
and this is just the beginning.

And I know that there will be more
memories and more
love shared and more
beginnings to be had.

So, as I sit here procrastinating and pondering, I'd just like to say how thankful I am for my brother, Sam, and for my sister-in-law, Olivia, for everything they are and for everything they inspire me to be.  I love you both very much.

Here's to endings.
But mostly,
here's to beginnings.

...Love, Anna...

Fighting What?; It's About Time I Explain...

I started this blog last November.

I started this blog with a head full of doubt (hey, that's a song) and a heart full of hope.

I didn't think I'd keep up with it.

I didn't think people would read it.

I didn't think I would love it as much as I do.

When I sat down to create this blog, I had two names in mind.  Even though I debated between them and asked my Mom which she liked better, the choice was already clear to me.

My blog was going to be "Fighting Entropy".

What?

What's entropy?  And why are we fighting it?

Shocking confession: I did NOT come up with the name.  (Are you super let down now and never want to read this blog again?

Thought you would be.)

Funny story, actually.  I learned this phrase from my eighth grade English teacher.  One day he was telling us (I have no idea WHY he was telling us this) that he once had a bumper sticker on his car that said "fight entropy".  He laughed like it was the most hilarious thing.  

We stared at him with blank faces.

Like we knew what entropy was.

Entropy, he went on to explain, is (and I am looking this up in my chemistry notebook, so bear with me, it's awfully scientific) the second law of thermodynamics (I am SO out of my element right now).  Basically, it's a measure of disorder. (If you science nerds want to know the specific facts look here: Entropy).

But the way our teacher explained it is this: if you go into the woods and put a white plank of wood on the forest floor, and leave it there for a year, what will happen to it?  The answer is obvious: moss will grow on it, the paint will fade and chip, the wood will rot, insects will make homes in it.

That's entropy.

After our teacher told us about it, I wrote it down right away and couldn't stop thinking about it.  I just loved it and everything it represented and meant not only scientifically, but also in every person's life.

I had this phrase mulling around in my head for a year.  I tried writing poems about it, but none of them could suffice.

So when I started thinking about blogging again, there was only one name I could think of that would be absolutely perfect.

And here I am "Fighting Entropy" for over a year now.  I prove my doubtful mind wrong every time I sit down to write and every time I look at the name on my blog page, because I still love it, and it still mystifies and inspires me every day.

That leaves just one more little thing I must explain, so as not to leave you in the dark about anything.

Why "fighting", you might ask?

Well, I've thought about that a lot, too.  What are we really fighting against in this world?

I think sometimes - well actually, most times - we're just fighting ourselves.  For me, I fight insecurity and complacence.  Some fight lethargy.  Some hatred.  Jealousy.  Hopelessness.  Some fight all their lives, determined not to be what their parents and grandparents and great-grandparents were.  Because entropy - human nature - will take over if we don't try to fight it.  To be better, to love more, to try harder, and to trust God.

Entropy is not the devil.  It is not the evil forces that we can't control.  It's not nature.  It is what we all fear becoming.  It's what's in us that could potentially destroy us.  But fighting it means that we won't let it.

And it's not this glorious battle we all fight to defeat it.  It's the slow, daily struggle of our lives.

But the hope in it is this.

Every day, every hour, every season of our lives that we struggle and fight against entropy and everything else that burdens our hearts, we do not have to struggle alone, we do not have to lose alone, and we do not have to win alone.

"The Lord will fight for you,

you need only be still."

Exodus 14:14

...Love, Anna...

A Beautiful Mess

I have a fear that eventually I'll just have nothing good to say.  Maybe I don't but here I am anyway.

I don't really know what to write about since lately whatever was left of my ability to think and my emotional capacity have been stripped down to the bare minimum and it's starting to show despite my few efforts to hide it.

I keep saying I just don't care anymore.
But I don't really mean that.
What I really mean is that I do care.
I care too much.
And when you care too much,
you shove all the caring-ness into nooks and crannies so no one has to see it and so you won't have to admit that the small pieces of your heart that you shoved into a corner somewhere are starting to show.

And I guess all I really want to say (that is, if any of this makes sense at all) is that it's okay to care.

And I can just feel the hypocrite in me oozing out from those words because as I write this I realize those words are
for me.

I guess I just hate appearing weak, feeling vulnerable, or admitting that I care.

It's easier to shrug it off and say you don't care.

But in a world that is all about the external shell of "everything's alright here" I think it's important that we let ourselves be vulnerable.

It's really hard, at least it is for me.

I want nothing more than to be the girl who has it all together - no issues, no insecurities, no tears, no problem.

Problem is, I'm not that girl.

Most of the time I'm a mess of a human being and a darn good pretender.

When you're vulnerable, you're bound to get hurt.  But if you keep everything bottled up, you're bound to regret.

When you're too busy trying to keep it all together, you're really just falling apart.  I think maybe if you just let yourself be the mess you are, like you're supposed to be, God will, in His time, find a way to make you a beautiful mess.

...Love, Anna...