Today, I was driving down the road and a new song came on the radio. Actually, “new” is a relative term, because I actually already own the song and have blogged about the artist before, Brandon Heath. But it was new to my heart, it spoke a new word to me.

I was honestly thinking about the song I blogged about yesterday when I turned the radio on.

In that moment while driving on Kennesaw Avenue, God spoke volumes to me about what He is doing.

Not only is He changing my job, my location, my everything comfortable, He’s changing my soundtrack.

Yesterday, this is not yesterday.
You were standing on My shoulders, now you’re standing on the edge.
You’ve been looking for a sign all this time.

I am gonna show you what I mean
I am gonna love like you’ve never seen
You are gonna live like you used to dream
This is your new song

So afraid, but you don’t have to be afraid
Even if you make mistakes
You know that I’ll remain
You’ve been looking for a sign all this time.
If you seek you’ll find Me every time.

So I am gonna show you what I mean
I am gonna love like you’ve never seen
You are gonna live like you used to dream
This is your new song

I just want to show you what I mean
I just want to love like you’ve never seen
Do you want to live like you used to dream?
Then I’ve got a song for you

Cause I am gonna show you what I mean
I am gonna love like you’ve never seen
You are gonna live like you used to dream
This is your new song

Wow. That’s good, huh? God is just really cool. I hope you are seeing Him at your house like I’m seeing Him at mine. He’s there. I pray that your eyes are opened to His hand, your ears are open to His voice, and your life is open to His call.

I pray the same for me. Cause by NO MEANS do I have it worked out. I’m just like you, trying to find God in the everyday. To hug Him with my life. And to know Him better tomorrow than I do today.

Blogmie Backup: Let’s help Brody. Check out his post and get your creative juices flowing!!
Free *awesome* music: Dave Barnes has a new CD coming out soon, and every Tuesday you can hear a new song for free on his website. So check it out on Tuesday and hear what’s coming on 4/1/08!
P.S- Spell check is broken on blogger, so forgive me if I miss something.

Unless the rest of the people on the ski trip are playing Mafia. (and it’s after midnight, so OFFICIALLY it’s Monday, just FYI)

Because I hate Mafia. It makes my blood boil and I feel like saying unloving things like, “I know she’s the mafia because she dresses really tacky and always has bad breath!”

And that has nothing at all to do with the game.

So for the safety of the students, I do not play.

I blog. Equally time consuming, hopefully not a emotionally detrimental to the masses. [But maybe.]

I also tube. I don’t ski (remember The Injury?), but I do tube. And I tube on youtube. See for yourself.

Wait a minute, though. Let me preface a few things:
1) Turn your volume up. Because I have no pride.
2) I guess I didn’t realize that I tend to yell when I am traveling at high rates of speed.
3) At the end, I say “dig in!” because I was beginning to slide back down the slope. I did not say a bad word. I promise.
4) Candace was really concerned about the fact that I could have dropped my camera. But let’s be honest, I would not be heartbroken if this thing got busted and I was forced to purchase one that I actually like.
5) We just got in trouble with our hotel neighbors for laughing too loud at this video. Or maybe they were concerned about the volume at which I tube?

Wow. No shame, people. No shame.

The girls in my room have not stopped mocking me- “backwards! backwards!”. Sheesh.

We’ve had a great time. Taking 20 juniors and seniors anywhere is a breeze. Aside from rampant illness and mild injuries, we’ve had zero problems. Note to self: always sign up for youth trips involving older students. Much less stress.

The highlight of my trip has been this.

Backstory: 1997-1998: When I was a senior in high school, I worked at a private elementary school 1/2 day. I was in a second grade class- I adored the teacher and the students. Even as a freshman in college, I took a picture of that class to UGA with me because they made the difference. Yep, if that’s what teaching looked like [by the way, it doesn't], then there is no question that’s what I want to do.

Modern day: Grace Ann’s boyfriend is along on this trip. They are both seniors, headed to Samford University in the fall. I’ve totally enjoyed getting to know him. So at dinner, we’re just talking. He mentions that he went to Eastside (the school I worked at). I asked him if he was the same age as a kid that was in that 2nd grade class- he says yes.

Suddenly, I pause. I ask, “Tyler, who was your teacher?”

Bingo. Sweet Tyler was in the SAME CLASS that I worked with everyday. 10 years ago.

10 years ago, he played a major roll in my life choice.

10 years ago, I was totally in love with him (and every kid in that class) and probably told stories about him at the dinner table. He probably signed my end of the year gift and I probably cried when I hugged his little boy neck on my last day.

Today, I looked at an 18 year old man as his eyes widened and he said, “I remember you.” And in an instant, his eyes were 8 years old again.

My eyes stung with tears.

There is one song that I have always considered my teaching song. I have sang it and prayed it for every class I’ve ever taught. And the chorus played through my mind as Tyler and I reminisced about that year, the vague and hazy details he remembers, the vivid moments that are in my memory.

I want to leave a legacy. How will they remember me?
Did I choose to love? Did I point to You enough to make a mark on things?
I want to leave an offering.
A child of mercy and grace who blessed Your name unapologetically,
And leave that kind of legacy.
- “Legacy” by Nichole Nordeman

As the end of this school year too quickly approaches, also signaling the end of teaching for me (for now), I think God will continue to drop these moments on me. The moments that remind me why I chose this profession in the first place. A hug from a loving little boy who has transformed into a graduating senior. The glimpses of myself in someone’s childhood memory. A completely unexpected gift, handed to me at a table in a Cracker Barrell somewhere in West Virginia. I’m grateful.

Yeah, this has been a great trip.

#5-
I have no idea what my internet access will be like this weekend- I’m going skiing with the youth group. But I’m not skiing. I hate skiing. It’s a long story… involving MLK weekend 2001, mean youth kids, an inexperienced skier (me), a black diamond, a snow machine, and a torn MCL. Put those magical ingredients together and you get what I have deemed The Injury.

So I’ll be writing and working away in the peace and quiet of a ski lodge on President’s Weekend, one of the busiest in the season. No biggie.

Because I ain’t too proud to beg, and this may be the last chance I have to blog this week, here’s a couple of quick prayer things that could keep your mind occupied for the weekend:

#1-
My house is on the market as of 5:10pm today. Pray for God to bring the right buyer and soon. This is one of my first concrete steps towards my dream. And it scares me to death. But I believe in a God who shows up for His people.

#2-
My writing. I have SO MUCH to write, and SO MUCH that I want to write really well that it feels overwhelming. Pray for clarity, creativity, and an ability to hear God. I have no words that will make any difference- I only want to write what I hear.

#3-
My schedule has been so busy this week that I have gone to bed with a migraine every night after being up and going for 15-18 hours straight. So pray that I would prioritize and say no and take care of my body and heart and brain.

#4-
My future… you know, husband, marriage, kids, etc. Today is a good a day as any to have my bloggites lift up a part of my life that, in general, I DO NOT (and will not) talk about on here. That’s all I’m gonna say about that.

#5-
Fred. Cause good gravy, could he BE any cuter? God has a plan for this boy. And we will get to watch it unfold. Glorious.

[Can we just go ahead and admit that he may be the highlight of this blog and it's only his 2nd day here? He stole the show. And our hearts.]

I just decided to sponsor my first Compassion child.

Well done, bloggers in Uganda. You made me cry. And now I’m spending a mere $32 a month to sponsor 5 year old Fred.

And I won’t regret it for a minute.

He looks like the coolest dude. I mean, check that face out! I laughed out loud, through my tears, and then I clicked “sign me up and let me give that kid a hug!”. Ok, that’s not what the button says, but it’s what it said to me. And now, a Compassion rep will give Fred a hug. From me. His sponsor.

Tell me that doesn’t make you smile. Fred, people. His name is Fred. That’s priceless.

Maybe you should sponsor a kid, too.

I have one.

I learned this [read: stole this] idea from a guy named Dave at Midtown Fellowship. I listened to his sermon today in the car and to be honest, I can’t stop thinking about it. To be fair, if you want to get the whole picture, you’ve got to listen to the first sermon of the series as well. It was the one he preached when I was in Nashville for the weekend. Being that I was there almost a month ago, I think the 2nd sermon was getting a little ripe on my iPod.

Now I’ll be the first to admit (and you’ll be the second to agree) that I totally don’t have a grasp on this whole concept of hope, hope deferred, longings fulfilled, etc. But I’m really wanting to work it out a bit in my mind, and apparently you are along for the ride.

The majority of the information that passed through my ears is lodged somewhere in the “I need God to explain that to me” folder. It was deep stuff.

But what I couldn’t miss, even though I really wanted to, was the idea of where I place my hope. Better said, the multiple places where I insert small amounts of hope. I have, as previously mentioned, an impressive portfolio of hope. A little here, for safety sake, a big amount here because surely that is worthy of hoping in, a few ounces there, etc. Spread it out, sister.

I want to say “I put all my hope in God”, but along with the no cuss words thing, I’ve also vowed not to lie on my blog. I guess the truer statement would be “I wish I put all my hope in God because then life wouldn’t break my heart so easily”.

To put my hope towards something is to depend on that thing. To put that object in a place of honor, saying “YOU are what I have been waiting for. YOU will take away this pain and this heartsickness.” (Prov. 13:12)

It makes me really sad to think of the wide variety of things and people who have received this misplaced worship. Ugh. Yucky.

I’ve had a couple of direct run-ins with some hope holders lately and every time it feels like a steam roller going over my porcelain heart. I can’t give details because I never know which dudes are reading this (hi fellas!), so I won’t say the circumstances. And it’s not just boys- it’s jobs, writing gigs, cities, friendships, bank accounts, all of it. I’m willing to venture that if you are human and you have ever said, “things will be better if this works out”, then you know the exact feeling I’m describing. The one when it doesn’t work out.

Like your hope has been ripped out from under you and your backside is throbbing from hitting the ground with so much force.

I think God lets that happen. So we don’t forget.

I’m not going to sit here and tell you some great story of how I solved this dilemma. It’s not like I can go cold turkey on this. It feels like I’m working to redirect a river. Slowly, one rebuilt bank at a time, I’m channeling my hope towards God. Because I mean it when I say that I want to want Him more than anything else. And I want Him to be what I hope for. So as each hope holder disappears before my very eyes (or runs in the opposite direction), I build another river bank and send that hope straight down to God.

I think it’s going to be a constant job. I don’t foresee myself withdrawing all the hope from my sundry locations and giving it right to God, though I wish I could. I still allow the world to painfully remind me of why I’m working towards that goal- because NOTHING else will satisfy.

I have a list about fifteen items long of things I think would make my life unbelievably awesome. And God will probably give me all fifteen, and tack on another 4,352 for good measure. Because He is rad. And He’s a giver.

But when it’s all said and done, I will come right back to you and say that it was never enough. No amount of blessings will satisfy. No one will fulfill all my desires. Except Him.

He is my shield, my very great reward. (Gen. 15:1)

Because sometimes it’s just better to tell you about other people who are blogging really well.

THE RABBIT ROOM

This is one of my favorite blogs. A lot of writers/ singers/ songwriters/ artists/ awesome people contribute to this blog. I am rarely intimidated, [in fact- I err on the side of being TOO willing to make a fool of myself] but even I won’t comment on this blog. It’s just too good, people. Too many fine artists and wordsmiths gather on this one blog and it scares the mess outta me.

But this blog is still one of my favorites.

The post today has everyone listing their favorite song lyric. 68 other people are brave enough to comment. Not me, buddy. I came real close- composed it and all, then the courageous lioness in me hit back space fifty times. Classy.

But I think it is an AWESOME read. Seriously, check it out. And if you are brave enough to comment, I tip my blog hat [blat? hog?] to you. Yes, I tip my hog to you.

BRODY HARPER

I know, I’ve sent you here before. But I think it is cool that he sees the importance of musicians and other artists having a presence in the blog world. As a future big deal published author [insert pipe dream here], I agree with him! Blogging is becoming a powerful tool. Hmm… I love power…. Ahem. Sorry. So stick him in your bloglines and just check out the cool things he is doing. And he’s funny. That’s enough for my blog-taste.

BOOMAMA

Also, as you see on my sidebar, Compassion has done an amazing thing by taking fifteen big deal bloggers to Uganda this week. My girl BooMama is one of them. She has such a beautiful and hilarious outlook on life, that I can’t wait to see read about her experiences. And I encourage you to do the same. (Check all those blogs by clicking “read”- how cool to see fifteen different eye witness accounts of the same experience. Thank you, technology, for being beautiful. When you don’t suck.)

Not to mention that she knows good music when she hears it.

BIGMAMA

BooMama has a blog BFF and sidekick named BigMama and she is also quite a joy to read. Sister makes me laugh out loud every day at least once. And it’s rare to find someone who has a passion for mexican food that rivals my own.

They are both going to be at THIS CONFERENCE… and I totally think I want to go.

I lead you to these websites because I honestly have nothing of worth to blog about.

This tends to happen, for you new bloggites, when I’m writing something else that is required to be worthy…. or at least look like I attempted that. Like, oh, I don’t know, talks for THIS RETREAT, or proposals for THIS CONFERENCE, or finishing content for my real writing website. Seriously. All I’m saying about my website is this- headshots. I know, Annie being a model is comedy at it’s finest and you will have every backstage access to this hilarity as it ensues.

And, somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear the word “journal”. I mean, I think I have a journal…. somewhere under the pile of clothes that has taken over my bed. [Where I, shockingly, found a pair of scissors. Yes, scissors in my dirty clothes. Did I WEAR those? You know it's time to wash when.....]

So, point being, I should write in my journal too. Just in case the internet dies and my blog dies with it.

Click on, bloggites! See you tomorrow.

If you’ve never met me, you probably don’t know this, but I have chubby fingers. It’s definitely never been something I intended to blog about, but honestly, most things aren’t. When I look down at my hands, they aren’t grossly fat, and in fact, right now, they look rather normal. But the moment I try on someone else’s ring, I’m reminded. Because most people’s rings don’t fit my fingers.

They’re kinda cute, actually, in their own chubby-sausage like little way. It won’t hurt my feelings if you take a gander next time we’re together. Granted, I will probably notice, but I won’t be offended.

Don’t get me wrong- I don’t have man claws or anything. Just little sausage fingers. I’ll never exceed in piano but playing the guitar works out fine if I keep the chords simple and narrow.

For being a girl with short and chubby fingers, I sure do have a good grip. And I love to hang on to things. In fact, I’m anaconda like. Sometimes I’ll grab on and squeeze the life out of something, rather unintentionally.

I’m not referring to animals, don’t start sending the hate mail quite yet.

I’m thinking more about things like friendships, comfort, control, money. You know, the things that will never survive my grip and yet always make me feel like they are the keys to my security.

I was sitting at a really cool songwriters’ event last night, and I started thinking about my grip. And how when I get scared or uncomfortable, I start grabbing. I start reaching for ANYTHING, EVERYTHING, and EVERYONE that will make me feel comfortable again. I’m an unbiased grabber- if you’ll get within my reach, I’ll nab you.

I have this need, I think we all do, to feel like I’m not alone. To feel like because I’m holding tight to you, that must mean that you want to hold tight to me.

It usually doesn’t.

So “maybe” I “sometimes“ operate out of “a bit” of fear. Raise your hand if you hadn’t figured that out about me yet. No hands? That’s what I thought.

Last night, as Lanae Hale sang beautifully about packing her car and moving north, I started watching a movie in my mind. Impressive soundtrack, less impressive movie clips. I saw, especially recently, how I have heard the fear thoughts and acted on them. How I have been reaching around feverishly for something to hold on to and being terribly sad when my hands came back to me empty.

So as I sat there last night, and saw in my mind all these things and people and ideas that I am desperately trying to hold on to, I looked down at my hands. And hilariously enough, they were squeezed closed, white knuckles and all. I sorta just chuckled to myself, more out of nervousness than anything. Yikes. Apparently even THINKING about the fears make me physically grip too tight.

Then, as soon as the song was over, Lanae and Randall Goodgame talked about the same verse.

Proverbs 3:5-6
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight.

A common scripture, to be sure. But welcome to the book that is LIVING AND ACTIVE, and means something new for your today everyday.

Because I heard God telling me to loosen my grip. To quit trying to grab what I thought I needed. To trust that if I’m doing what He says, He will meet all my needs and free up my hands. To please hold on to Him.

And I began to feel peace. I like the idea that I don’t have to hold on to anything else. My hands, to be honest, were getting tired. So was my heart.

I told God I wasn’t going to be scared. And that I don’t know what it looks like to loosen my grasp on all the things I want to hold, but if He would show me, I would do it. And that I also, by the way, didn’t really know how to hold on to Him for my security and safety. So if He didn’t mind, could He show me how to do that as well.

“Seems nothing I love will ever linger
Everything that’s good just slips away
I curse the space between my fingers
And pray Your love will somehow stay.”
- Tara Leigh Cobble, Somehow Stay

Remember how I decided that this year I was going to read the Bible? Like, the WHOLE Bible?

No one is as surprised as me about this next statement: I’m actually doing it.

Yes, some nights I have to read more than one day worth, sometimes 3 or 4 days in one sitting, but as of RIGHT THIS MINUTE, I’m caught up.

So we [me and Bible] are in Exodus. And as I read this verse last night, I smiled to myself.

Exodus 13:17
When Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them on the road through the Philistine country, though that was shorter. For God said, “If they face war, they might change their minds and return to Egypt.”

I smiled because I saw again how very well God knows me. Not how well He knows humankind, though He does, but how well He knows Annie. And the Israelites.

I should have been an Israelite. I act like one. A lot.

Because I am sure that God has, on His dashboard, my fear-o-meter. It’s like a thermometer with a gauge… it’s complicated. As He shows me the next step, I think He glances down at the fear-o-meter to see if it is blinking in the red zone. The “panic” zone. The “I don’t think this whole ‘drop everything that has been familiar and embrace a totally new life’ thing is such a good idea” zone.

Yes, that’s a zone. Check the map.

He knows there is a shorter route for me. There is a more direct way for us to get from here to there. I could just shoot through the middle, a path that is less mileage wise but significantly more turbulent.

But He knows I have a weak stomach. I can’t handle turbulence. He knows I would change my mind. He knows I almost changed my mind this week.

Because He knows me, we take a roundabout way through the desert. Because He knows that I would run myself back to Egypt at the first sign of war. So instead of setting some universal bravery goal for everyone, He just works with me. He picks a path for me that I can manage. I still get to go where He has planned and (if you’ve read Exodus you know this) the desert is not without it’s issues. So it’s not an avoidance thing, it’s like the Bible says, He just never gives us more than we can handle.

But it’s really not about the struggle to me. Struggles will always come and go. They are unavoidable, though I would pay a large sum of money [thatIdon'thave] to be protected from them all my livelong days. “Perseverance” is NOT my middle name.

It’s about the heart of God, and how He eases up on folks sometimes just so they don’t give up. He makes us want to keep going. Because He’d rather us slowly go to victory than quickly return to slavery.

Victory…. or Nashville. Whatever.

I’m glad it’s about what He knows, and how He knows me. Because I am weak. I have an unsteady step and an uncommitted mind. I’m not real good at this thing. So I just trust Him, and what He knows, and keep in my view the cloud by day and the fire by night. I will follow Him. Because He knows where we are going.

“All I know is the bleeding in my heart,
and the healing in Your touch.
All I know is that You gave everything,
so let that be enough.
Cause it’s all I know.”
- Matt Wertz

I hear ya, Matt. That’s all I know, too.

#8!!

Nancy!!

Congratulations. I will be getting the book to you soon. Trust me, I don’t want you to live much more life without reading this thing.

To the other 46 of you- first of all, your comments were so great and I wanted to respond to all of them, but I thought that mildly unfair- to make myself every other comment would throw off the random integer generator severely.

But this was SUPER FUN. It has me on a bit of a mission…. I’ve got some other giveaways in the works….. remember, I feel NO SHAME in asking people to give you something for free.

A famous writing group put it this way once- “I ain’t 2 proud, I ain’t 2 proud 2 beg.” TLC, you never stop inspiring me. Because of you, I also quit chasing waterfalls.

Harrison, just for leaving an awesome poem on your blog, I’ll be sending you a little surprise too. People, kissing up had it’s finest hour on Harrison’s blog. I hope you enjoy the poetic glory that is Harrison’s attempt to be stronger than a random integer generator.

And now, because the rest of you still want to read the book, GO HERE and order one. Grab the first book too, it’s just nice to read in sequence. And maybe a CD. Or two. Seriously. Buy yourself a copy of “Crowded Skies”, or buy one for a friend, because this is a great book and a great author who deserves our support.

You may wonder why I’m blogging at 10 am.

I assure you, it has NOTHING to do with the fact that I have a sub today because I drove to Nashville last night for Tara Leigh’s book release party and then turned around a drove home and did not get in until almost 3 am.