Just FYI- when I get really reflective and only blog late at night, I’m either:
1) stressed
2) working on a writing project.

The answer this week? Both.

Starting today, I have one career. I’m a writer. That should take care of #1 for a while- having two jobs is a bit much.

I’m a writer. Weird.

Enjoy the video for this song that I blogged about a few weeks ago. While I soothe the mild panic rising in my throat.

9am- 4th Grade Awards Day. Room full of parents. The ones that actually like me.

12pm- End of the Year Party. Nachos and pinatas. One to eat, one to beat. Homemade pinatas, none the less, that were quite resistant to busting. Which is good when you need to account for 24 different hits. The only glitch was that I purchased everyone a fake mustache and forgot to give them out! So tomorrow? We become the mustachioed 4th grade class.

3pm- Chiropractor. The back is a muscle problem, not a disc problem. Rest and ice and stretches should do the trick. [Tell that to Ninja Vlad.]

5pm- Class trip to see Prince Caspian. About 10 of my kids (and their parents) showed up. It was awesome. If you haven’t seen that movie- DO IT. It’s good. Real good.

7:45pm- My mother walks out of the movie theater bathroom with toilet paper stuck to her shoe. One of my students’ parent tells her. That’s a memory I won’t soon forget. Or let my mom forget.

8pm- What was supposed to be a quick bite to eat ended up having me, Mama, 2 teachers, and 5 teacher kids sitting at Chili’s for an hour.

9:45pm- drop 2 kids off and hang with the family for a few minutes.

10:15pm- Get home, sigh to myself, and realize how much I really am going to miss this.

Apparently I’m having a week where my mind says it is totally acceptable to lay before the world all my inadequacies and issues. Congrats, world. Or I’m sorry. Whichever.

Tonight at our Scotland meeting, my heart was drawn to pray for God to bring more campers. So I did. Like this-

“Please, God. Bring more campers. Puh-leeze! Seriously!! Please? Don’t you wanna? Puh-uh-leeze? Gosh, just please. Come on. Bring more campers.”

I read that back and it almost makes me laugh. Because it looks funnier than it sounds. It wasn’t funny at the time. I was begging. I was desperate. I was borderline frustrated.

My mind was immediately drawn back to a situation in my classroom. A student walked up and asked for a tissue using that same voice. Whiny. Unexpectant. Almost with an undertone of anticipated disappointment. I remember looking down at him and saying, with a laugh in my voice, “Stephen, why wouldn’t I want to give you a tissue? If you need one, I want you to have one. You don’t have to beg.”

And then in my heart I heard the same thing, as clearly as I’ve heard the Lord in a while.

Annie, you don’t have to beg.

I froze. And I thought. Yep, I almost consistently beg-pray. Sometimes we are called to beg God for situations and issues, but not like this. I ask God in a way that says, “I think I have to convince You to give, so maybe if I beg, that will convince You.” As if He doesn’t want to give. I pray with the perspective that the amount of begging I do equals the amount of giving He’ll do.

[Oh, I'm sorry, Martha, is that you again? I was afraid so. Work work work. Earn earn earn. Nothing is free. Everything has a cost. If you didn't earn it, you don't get it.]

LIES LIES LIES.

But, to give myself a little break, it is fair to say there are some things I have prayed for for a long time [things in the category of subjects I don't blog about] that have felt like unanswered prayers. They have FELT like I was talking to a reluctant Giver. So I just adopted that way of praying- not anticipating an answer, but expecting to be sad. I have grown to ask out of deep hurt and frustration- “Are You going to answer THIS time, or not?”

Isn’t it sad the way the enemy creeps in and steals? Kills? Attempts to destroy? In moments like this, I am reminded that I am such a little sheep. Not near as tough as I look. Or as strong as I feel. Way more vulnerable than I believe.

God can’t always say yes, just like I as a teacher can’t always say yes. If Stephen had asked me for a tissue to eat for lunch, I would have said no. Not because tissues are bad, or because I’m not a giver, but because he doesn’t need to eat a tissue for lunch. Especially not on nugget day- Stephen loves the nuggets.

So I repented, there in the middle of our prayer meeting. And I asked God, for real, to give me a heart of flesh, replacing the heart of stone that has grown tough from one too many misunderstood answers to prayers.

Because I’ll be gut level honest with you. I have no ability to change my heart. I can work and muster and fight and claim and whatever, but I will not change my heart or my mindset by pure will. Trust me, if Martha here could, Martha here would. But I can’t. God has to take this heart and make it new. I want to know Him, and understand Him. And trust His heart. And believe every time that He is a giver. The Giver.

I hope you know that I really love Him. It’s not like I don’t. I mean, hello, I’m giving up my whole world and moving to Nashville as an act of love towards Him. But again, just like with the Martha stuff, we all have parts of our salvation we have to work out. Sometimes more than once.

This scripture came to life for me tonight. I pray it speaks to you, whatever you are working out.

Jeremiah 9:23-24 (this is The Message version)

“Don’t let the wise brag of their wisdom. Don’t let heroes brag of their exploits. Don’t let the rich brag of their riches. If you brag, brag of this and this only: That you understand and know Me. I’m God, and I act in loyal love. I do what’s right and set things right and fair, and delight in those who do the same things. These are my trademarks.“

Tonight at Chick-fil-A was good. Thanks to all the folks who came out. We’re really asking the Lord to provide our last little bit of moola so we can go on this trip and serve Him in Scotland.

I don’t know exactly what happened, I just know that around 6:15pm, I hurt my back. Not like a pulled muscle. Well, maybe. But more like pliers have grabbed a hold of my lowest left vertebrae. And twisted. I can’t really find a happy place to sit.

Or lie.

Or stand.

Like a grandma.

But with the encouragement of Mark Lee, I’m choosing to focus on the positive. And take a lot of Aleve.

This coming Saturday I get to help throw “that” shower for my friend Candace. Ladies, you know the one I’m talking about… the one that happens about a week before the wedding… the one for only girls…. the one that is ridiculously funny for me every single time. Because I am still seven years old in my mind.

For eats, we are doing tapas recipes. No, not topless. Sickos. TAPAS. Small appetizers, but a wide variety. Like one the greatest restaurants in Athens- SpeakEasy. Mmmm……

And we need some HELP.

Does anybody have a great appetizer recipe? We are looking for stuff that doesn’t necessarily need utensils, bite size, both savory and desserts. And Candace is the polar opposite of a vegetarian, so the more meat, the better. So step up, you undercover foodies. And help a sista out!! Give us some recipes!!

Please don’t suggest baby BACK ribs. That is rather insensitive of you, considering my current injury and all.

Hey you Marietta folk.

The Scotland Mission Team is having a fundraiser tonight (TUESDAY!) at the Chick-fil-A on Dallas Hwy (in front of the Target).

All you have to do is come grab dinner anytime between 5pm and close. Tell them you support the Scotland Mission Team and we get 10% of what you spend!! Eat-in or drive-thru!!

So load up your peeps and come grab a bite to eat!

Tell all your friends- sounds like the perfect opportunity to hang out with people you love. And eat Chick-fil-A. And send us to Scotland.

Booyah.

I was listening to sermon in my car this weekend (I spent a lot of time in the car- 1/2 way to Athens, 1/2 way home, 2 hours up to Lake Burton, then 2 hours over to Athens, then 2 hours home again.). And the preacher talked about this scripture passage-

Luke 10: 38-42
As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

I feel sorry for Martha. Maybe because I kinda get her. I feel like her a lot. Work, work, work, because it’s the right thing to do. Someone else is lazy and THEY are commended?

[Now, before I proceed any further, please understand that I am NOT saying Jesus was wrong. I'm just saying I can sympathize with Martha's thoughts. She was wrong, Jesus was right. As is to be expected.]

Because the truth is Martha just wanted desperately to do the right thing. She thought that was where she found love. In the right. Of course she would have rather been sitting there on the floor talking to Jesus, but she felt this need inside of her to be someone else. To do the things that “had” to get done.

There is a book called “Being a Mary in a Martha World” or something like that. But let me tell you the truth- Martha didn’t want a world. She disliked her role- she wouldn’t have complained about Mary not helping if she was serving with a cheerful heart. Heck, even Martha wanted to be a Mary in a Martha world.

If Martha is anything like me, and sadly, she is, then I can tell you she moaned because she was jealous. Not of Mary and Jesus’s relationship necessarily. But she was jealous that other people didn’t feel the need to do the “right” thing all the time. Martha was a people pleaser, an earner, and it made her longingly jealous to see Mary getting what Martha was working for…. for free.

It ain’t easy being Martha. She’s misunderstood. She’s looked at as a total you-know-what, when in reality, her issue was that her heart didn’t feel unconditionally loved. Mary got it- Mary knew that Jesus totally adored her. Martha worked towards that, never quite finding it, and Mary got it for free. Martha felt she had to earn all of it, work for all of it. She missed the giving heart of God.

I struggle with this story. I think that is fair to say. I don’t disagree with the Bible, but I have to “work out” my salvation with this story. I wrestle with this one. I am a strong believer in FAIR. But that is not Biblical, so I have to daily lay it down. (The other story I struggle with is the prodigal son. Namely, the older brother and the way his life went.)

This is not some blog cry for help- I promise. I’m really fine. This is just me expressing to you that it is okay to not hug every Bible story. We are supposed to WORK OUT our salvation. We all have sinful nature and it is to be expected that the sinful nature in you (and your issues and hurts) will prick against certain ideas or parables more than others. Some things are just going to disagree with the thoughts that have always run through your head. The thoughts are usually wrong, but common none the less.

Trust me. I want to be a Mary- one who has the confidence and peace to kick back and let the world run itself, knowing all will be well as long as Jesus is the focus. A girl who is good at receiving gifts and doesn’t feel like they are earned.

But I’m Martha. Look over here, Jesus, I’m working so hard. Notice me doing the “right” thing. And make her do the “right” thing too. Because I want to be sitting, resting, soaking in Your Presence. But there is so much to be done. It’s not fair. I think I would feel better if everyone felt this ridiculous need to do the “right” thing instead of just me. Misery loves company. And where is all the goods I should be getting for working this hard? Don’t I deserve it? (Yikes, that paragraph makes me shudder a bit- it’s shocking how easy it is for the enemy to twist God’s character in our minds, isn’t it?)

You know what I think Martha wanted Jesus to say?

“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her. Why don’t you come sit, too?“

I’m grateful that today I can hear Jesus asking me to come sit. All the work? It will get taken care of. What matters most is me. And Him.

Remember how I was on my way to Athens around 4pm?

Well, 45 minutes later…. only TEN MILES LATER…. I realize these things:

1) I might be a little bit tardy. I hate that.

2) Oh yeah, here’s why…. everyone else is heading out of town today because
a. most schools are out.
b. it’s Memorial Day Weekend.

3) And oh yeah, it’s Atlanta. On a Friday.

4) I left my driver’s license on my bedside table. On Memorial Day Weekend. Where police have road blocks every day.

Doh.

So I make the necessary phone calls, to a disappointed high school graduate, to my parents, to my A-town friends who were expecting to throw down with me tonight. I say this- “Ok, I’m gonna head back to my house, grab my license, and see if by some miracle I can make it by 6:15pm.”

I turn around. At 4:45pm.

I get to my house, remember only about 12 miles of travel, at 5:47pm.

Whether Math comes easy to you or not, you’ve probably figured this out- arriving home at 5:47pm, needing to drive 80 miles, and arrive by 6:15pm, is not going to happen.

So here I sit. Missing a graduation. Dang it.

Congratulations, Laura, on graduating tonight!!

Congratulations, me, on getting to hang out in Athens tonight!!

This one time, my Aunt Carol sent me a card that had a line of rodents zigzagging down the front. They had on sombreros and were holding maracas.

It said “Conga-Rats”.

And I have always found that to be the wittiest celebratory card ever created.

I told my friend Lisa that before the school year ended, I wanted us to go have tea at Tea Leaves & Thyme, a tea shop that is down the street from school. We have scones and tea and ham stripe sandwiches. It’s pricey and gorgeous and tasty.

Unbeknownst to me, Lisa emailed all my nearest and dearest at school (minus my teammates who “don’t do tea”) and surprised me with a little farewell party after work.

My school bfry Becky says, “I bet we’re gonna make the blog now, huh? Maybe we should do a video.” Ok, Becks, twist my arm…..

And I only cut it there to honor my dear friend and not embarrass her. I love the part where Lisa says, “You’re gonna be on the blog tonight!” Notice the silence after that. Mainly because most of the women sitting there had no idea I had a blog. Now they do. Hey girls.

But back to today. What a treasure. When I turned the corner and saw them all sitting there, the flood waters almost came. These women have grown to mean so very much to me. When I first came to Woodstock, I didn’t know that we would ever turn that corner between coworker and friendship, but with these, I have.

Starting on the right and going counterclockwise-

Bonny- You are wisdom to me.
Kristen- You got me this job. You will always be a part of the God story for me.
Beverly- You welcomed me that first year and I will always be grateful.
Nancy- I want to treat life the way you do- just laugh and love. You radiate peace.
Lisa- You love people so well. You are the epitome of a faithful friend. I am more sure of me because of you.
Kathryn- You are so very important to me. Our friendship does not fear distance.
Becky- Truly. You are the dearest to me. There aren’t enough words. I hope you know how much I love you.
Me- You are a dork.
Jennifer- We clicked immediately and never looked back. I adore you and your family.
Sydney- I’m sorry about next year. I totally love you. In my heart, you are one of my students.
Morgan- You are one of my absolute favorite friends. Forever.
Mandi- I kinda feel like you are my sister. We love like that is true. And family doesn’t stop loving because they live in different cities.

So there’s that.

I am blessed beyond measure. I have never loved going away parties- they make me cry and they make me lament my future loss constantly. Every moment screams, “SAVOR ME!” and yet as soon as I begin to do that, the moment is gone. So it went today. Before I knew it, we were done and my sweet friends produced gifts from every angle of the table. Gifts that are heart-chosen and specific and purely lovely.

And this, my bloggites, is when I became a puddle.

There are no words to thank someone for their support and love even in their sadness. Even in my sadness. It would help if I didn’t pray in these moments, but I do, and then I pour out my heart to God while tears flow. Just because the decision has been made does not mean I don’t remind Him that I dislike it some days. Like today.

But I am so grateful. Today was perfect, minus the brink of tears and then the actual spillage. I have said thank you to these women (and girls) multiple times today, but let me say again. With all my heart. I thank you. And I love you.

I think at every job you make a very few friends that outlast your employment.

Let me introduce you to mine.

In 200o. I went to Scotland.

In 2007. I went back to Scotland. It was. Sigh. So good.

In 2008. I get to go back again. We will be doing the same thing we did last year- taking a team from RiverStone Church to help lead a Summer Camp for high schoolers and middle schoolers.

Last year’s camp was the most challenging experience of my life. I was stretched beyond my limits. Far beyond. I called home crying more than once. “This is just SO HARD,” I would say, “I am really ready to be home.” And before I blinked, it was over. I was head over heels in love with a people and a camp and a nation. And I had signed up to go back.

And I can’t wait. Honestly. You may have noticed that I love Europe. But more than bikes, I love the people, especially the youth. I love the history. I love the land. I love it all.

I am so looking forward to sitting in this spot on the left and looking out that window. Because I’m pretty sure somewhere on that bookshelf I set a piece of my heart and left it there.

And I’m not traveling alone. Our mission team? Y’all. I don’t even know where to start.

Yes I do. Our team LOVES JESUS. I mean, REALLY love Him. Enough to take 2 weeks of their summer and spend it serving in Scotland. Enough to invest time and effort into raising $50,000. (We’re still about $10,000 short.) Enough to fast 24 hours each week and pray for one solid hour each Wednesday. Enough to fly across the ocean to laugh with and love a group of students they have never met, in order that the students may see Jesus. My team is ridiculously committed to Christ.

We have multiple families represented on our team- one married couple, three sets of siblings, a father and two sons, cousins, and a mother and daughter (that would be me and the Mama!). Isn’t that amazing?!? Of the 24 people going, half are going with a family member.

And it is beautiful.

I’m one of the team leaders and it has been humbling, challenging, strengthening, frustrating, scary, and life changing. Before we even leave American soil.

Scotland is a country that is in desperate need of God, especially in the youth culture. We are hoping and praying and believing God for BIG things. Please hope, pray, and believe with us. And pray for me as the leader- I want to be a servant, be humble, be joyful, be brave, and I want to live in a way that causes my team members to rise up into the fullness of who God made them to be. Lofty goal, I know. If the team doesn’t come home stronger in their faith, then I have not fulfilled my calling as the leader. It’s not easy. Not even a little bit.

But it’s worth it. It’s all worth it to see this. Hands. Raised. In purest worship. To a God who has loved them forever.
That’s why we go. That’s why we return. That’s why I love Scotland.

Wanna help support our team? Mail a check to RiverStone Church, 2005 Stilesboro Road, Kennesaw, GA 30152. Make out the check to RiverStone, and attach a sticky note saying for “Scotland Mission Team 2008″ or my name, but leave the memo line blank. We only need $10,000 more- is God calling you to partner with us and help us get there?