Don't Carry it All

By Friday of this week I was dead-beat and the only thoughts I had left were of sleep.

I find myself at the edge of this same precipice every year.

Finding the strength and will to get up every morning sometimes is about all I can muster and I've become consumed by lists and sticky notes and I'm so focused on only the things I can
cross off instead of what really
matters.

Instead of thinking "here I am" I find myself wondering
"where to next" and if for one fleeting moment I find myself sitting idle the only thought that enters my mind is
"what am I forgetting?"

I trick myself into thinking that I can carry it all,
that I have it all together -
I can be a perfect student, editor, actress, administrator, writer, friend, daughter, and sister.

I can do it all.

This past week tears and meltdowns and sleeplessness proved only that I am weak.

That I am wholly insufficient
without the steady arms of
my God.

I've found this to be true so many times I've lost count,
yet still I stand here,
staring over this canyon of all the things that
overwhelm me,
and am too stubborn to turn to the One who conquered them all.

This week, may we once again make God
the center of our lives,
and may we be humble enough to let Him
carry us.

...love, anna...

This is Not the Story

One day,
I hope to hold my child's hands in my hands,
if I am blessed with a child,
and tell him or her
my story.

I'll whisper in my child's ear,
"this is not the story
I had planned,"
and I'll look down at those perfect fingers
in my too-old ones,
"but this is my story."

I hope that my years of growing pains,
all the pencil marks on the closet wall,
and all the growing pains that left me broken,
but somehow,
stronger,
will lead me to tell
the truth.

I hope when I tell my story
I'll have forgiven myself
for the things I cannot be,
and I hope when I tell my story
I'll love myself
for the things I am
that make me
whole.

When you ask for the first time,
I'll try my hardest to look into your eyes,
your carved fingers
held tight in mine,
and I'll try my hardest to tell you that
this is not the story
I may have written for myself,

but the author of Beauty knows far more than me,
and after all,
this is His story.

...love, anna...

We're Alive, and It's Not by Accident

I wanted to take a moment this week to send a reminder out there -
to whoever you are -
that you're very much alive
and it's not by accident.

I don't know if anyone else feels this way, but often times I feel like I become easily bogged down by the negativity of the people around me and by my own negativity.

We all complain.  We all complain TOO MUCH.

This week I just want to remind you what a beautiful, broken GIFT
your life is.
We're not here just because.

We're alive and breathing and we have so much to sing and speak and dance and write about.

We're here and we're privileged and we're blessed.
We get to WAKE UP in the morning,
we get to GO TO SCHOOL,
we get to BE EDUCATED,
we get to LEARN NEW PERSPECTIVES.

We're here and we're all broken in certain unfixable ways but
we can go to the sink AND DRINK WATER
we can go to the store AND BUY FOOD.

We have BOOKS to read and MUSIC to listen to and a BEAUTIFUL world around us.
We're not STUCK in Grove City, we're LIVING in Grove City, and we're SAFE.

We have BEDS to sleep in when we're tired,
COFFEE to wake us up,
HOMEWORK to make us think.

We have WORDS.  We have THOUGHTS.  We are ALIVE.
And it's not by accident.

We need to start rejoicing, because no matter what you're going through, there is ALWAYS a reason to give thanks.

God gave you this life,
and it's not by accident.

...love, anna...

"This is the day the LORD has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." ~Psalm 118:24