One of my favorite parts of living in Nashville is the musicians that become friends. I have always had a deep love for all things singer/songwriter, and now these are my people.  I heart it.  Mucho.  And a few weeks ago, a friend of mine gave me a demo of a song he had written.  I can’t help but confess that I cry every time I listen to it.  [Someday when he gets famous for it, I'll tell you.  I promise.]

The title is “A Year Ago Today”.

First he sings about a break-up…..

Where was I a year ago today?

I was sitting on Haley’s couch, my stomach in knots, while Haley, Molly, and I watched a movie.  I knew I had to tell them.  I wanted them to know about Nashville.  No one else but my parents and a mentor even knew whispers of what God was doing, but my best friends deserved to know.

I started the conversation lamely, something stupid I’m sure.  But they both knew in minutes that this was serious.  And as the tears poured from all of our faces…. I thought for certain I wasn’t strong enough to leave them. Or my family.  Or my life.

Then he sings….

“A year ago to the day I thought my life was over….

my world stopped….

there wasn’t much of my heart left to break.“

Oh gracious that was and is so true.  I literally thought my life was over.  I remember sitting there, on December 31, 2007, screaming at God in my head, “PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME DO THIS!!”

After many tears, I gave up and gave God my life, in a for realz kind of way; I told Him that He means more to me than anyone else.  And that if Nashville was where He was wanting me to go, I wanted to be there.

There were days when I literally didn’t know I was capable of being so brokenhearted.

And yet here I am.  Sitting on my bed in Nashville.  Crying as that song plays in the background.  Because looking back on 2008, I don’t feel like my life ended in August.  In fact, quite the opposite- I’m the best Annie I’ve ever been.  I keep on my computer a list of the friends I’ve made here, because I know that they are gifts from God.  Every writing opportunity has been a gift.  Every good time or funny joke or moment of “I Love Nashville” has been a part of Him giving me more than I could ever deserve.

And the chorus continues…..

“By the grace of God, and the strength in me…

I’m stronger than I ever thought that I could be…

You’d hardly recognize my face…

From a year ago today.“

I didn’t know I could do this. A year ago today, if you would have told me that I would be here, happy in Nashville, I would not have believed you.  I didn’t know that allowing God to have it ALL actually means allowing Him to give you ALL the good things He has planned.  I thought I was sacrificing. In reality, I was merely setting myself up for a tidal wave of blessing.  I gave Him a dollar; He gave me the world.

And then he sings…

“I’m finding out that life’s all about living and learning…

Finding the joy in all the hurting…

Now I’ve got a smile as big as the ocean…

and everyday my arms are wide open...“

By the grace of God, y’all.  That is me.  I’m stronger, calmer, and braver because of God and the new ways I know Him; I can honestly say that would have never happened if I wouldn’t have moved with Him to Nashville.

So would I do it again?  I hope so.  Do I know all the reasons why I’m in Nashville?  Not at all.  But if I’ve learned anything in 08, I’ve learned that obeying God doesn’t require that I understand His ways.

I only have to understand His heart for me.

2009 has some great promise.  God has some better ones. Hang on, friend.  It’s about to get awesome up in here.  (And I’m praying the same for you!!)

Jeremiah 29:11

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord,

“plans to prosper you and not to harm you,

plans to give you hope and a future.”

I started a little tradition last year by giving you a photo from each month to summarize the year.  Today you get pictures, tomorrow you get words.  And if you didn’t know me in 07, you can catch up real fast RIGHT HERE.

January- visited Nashville for the first time.  Knew in my heart that I was moving.

February- Sold my house.  Deep sigh…. I still miss that room.

March- God answers my prayer for one friend at the Mt. Hermon Writer’s Conference… by giving me three (and a Canadian pastor).

April- Carys arrives on the scene.  And life is never the same.  I love that girl.

May- Saying goodbye to a career and to a community.

June- SheSpeaks Conference.  Who knew that some of these ladies would become such dear friends?

July- Two of my bfries- Katie B and Marie.  I would not have survived our trip to Scotland without them.

August- I moved.  My heart almost didn’t survive it.  Somedays, I still don’t know that it will.  Then this reminds me…..

September- Making friends.  Who are apparently much more receptive to the rays of the sun.

October- Finding community who also happen to love the Georgia Bulldogs.

November- You saw this one coming a mile away.  Oh Cankle.  I don’t miss you.  Cause I’m still paying for you.

December- Parties. And many prayers of thanks for the sweet friends I’ve been given.

So there you have it.  Here are a few personal observations:

- This year’s photos involved a lot of people.  And a wide variety of people.  Which is kinda cool.

- My computer screwed up and saved my pictures from August- December all over iPhoto.  Mainly in 2007 folders.  It was so weird to see pictures of Nash people sprinkled throughout my Marietta world of photos.  Sorta poetic, in a way.

- There are blog posts for most of these pictures, so just use the handy search by month tool on the right if you want to read more [especially about the Cankle.  Gracious, I uber-blogged that puppy.]

- I’m getting all teary, so I need to stop now.  But just know that in all of this, the moving, the selling, the goodbyes, the hellos, the new friends, born and made, the old friends, ever faithful, I am overwhelmed with one emotion.

GRATITUDE.

Dear God,

You surprised me in 08.

You moved me in 08.

You held me in 08.

And You loved me in 08.

Thanks.

This 1,000 words a day, that is.

If you’re new around here, since, oh, I don’t know, last Monday, then maybe you don’t know why I’m writing 1,000 words a day.  So just go here and catch yourself up.

And so far things are going swimmingly in the words department.  I CANNOT tell you how much I depend on and appreciate your prayers.  Wow.  Something on the inside feels different.  New words that I didn’t expect to write, stories and examples from ten years, even twenty years, coming back to my mind like they happened yesterday.

Let’s just say that I wish the one about that embarrassing moment at Six Flags in 1997 would have just stayed wherever it came from.  Because when I wrote it, I literally said aloud, “Can you believe you even still have FRIENDS?”

Meanwhile, there is not an area of my mind that has not been under constant attack.  Whether it be temptations, or lies, or worries, it has been a full on battle.  Which means you jokers are doing something right.  And I’m doing something “write”.  [Ha- those are the kinds of jokes you were looking for, am I right or am I right?]  Even just being at the grocery store tonight, it was a fight to hear truth.  Which is silly because it hasn’t been this bad in a long time, if ever.  And never at the blessed grocery store.

But I’m fine, don’t stress.  It’s all part of the job.  I’m pretty sure it was in my job description…. that I guess I wrote since I work for myself.  But whatevs.

In other news, I’m back in Nashville. Marietta was great, being home was great.  It’s like a car that needs gas.  I just needed it.  Friends.  Family.  The normal that I knew still existing in some forms.

To keep this random rabbit trail of thoughts continuing, I’ll also tell you that I absolutely love the week between Christmas and New Year’s.  I love looking back over the year, seeing what God and I have been through/survived somehow, and just overall assessing my world.

And I will blog about.  A LOT.  You just wait for it.

[Sorry for the lame-o post.  I just wanted to make sure you knew I was alive.  You thought I was being humble when I said I run out of good things to write while I'm working on a book full time.  I wasn't.  I was being for realz.]

And since you suffered through that, I’ll show you this.  My sisters and I in the “welcome home” pajamas from my mother. Any joke I attempt to make here simply pales in comparison to the idea of three sisters over the age of 20 wearing footy pajamas.  [Can I just say that the one in the middle, Tatum, lives in Hawaii.  Hence the freakin' ridiculous tan.  Tough life, missionary.]

If that doesn’t make up for a less than stellar post, well.  Then I apologize.

First of all, many of you are curious as to the reasons behind turning your router off at night/whether it should be in your bedroom.  Because I just do as I’m told by doctors, I didn’t really ask him any questions.  But I’m doing some research, so as soon as I know, you’ll know.

On to my yesterday….

Let me start by defining “generational budness”- pretty much, it’s hanging out with people in any age bracket, all willy nilly, because they are fun friends to have.  Like BACK HERE when we all went to the lakehouse.  And yesterday I had a full day full of good timin’ budness.  [As evidenced by my fashion choice- the favorite fleece.]

Kathleen and I have been working on this craft project for a while now. I’ve wanted a tshirt quilt for years, so my friend Candace and I *attempted* to make one.  Pretty much we stitched these tshirt backs to a sheet.  It was a really dumb idea good try.  But over Thanksgiving while I was home, Kathleen and I started from the beginning and made a tshirt quit for realz.  Here we are sewing the buttons on that will hold the batting in place so I can wash this puppy in the machine.

Here is the finished product.  Drool if you will, because I think it is gorgeous.  My friend Mikey B said, “You have to hang that on the wall.  That is art, not a blanket.”  AH-greed.  But apparently he didn’t read yesterday’s post because I’m already planning to add this new quilt to my pile of blankets that I use on a nightly basis.

Here we are.  Basking in the glory of completed craft.

Then, because Kathleen needed proof that I would truly be warm under the new quilt, she had me and Anne (her daughter) get under the blanket.  I LOVE THIS QUILT.  And this family.

In fact, not only did they practically make the quilt [I pretty much stood there and ironed], they feed me at family dinner, and they buy me beautiful and meaningful gifts, like this necklace.

Then the generational budness continued as I headed to the Bedingfield home. We watched Dave Barnes‘ comedy DVD [which was a holiday treat], ate peanut brittle, and laughed a lot.  I believe we exceeded our government allowance of jokes and good times by quite a bit.  We also gave Marie Claire a little surprise- after Thanksgiving we went to the GAP and Marie FELL IN LOVE with this purple pea coat.  And because we love moments like this one, we bought the jacket for her.  And that girl was surprised.

[How awesome is her face right here in the bottom left corner?  Totally made the whole thing worth it.  And... Marie Christmas?  Funny, right?  Like Merry Christmas.  Yeah, I probably think that is significantly funnier than it really is.]

Well, instead of some super hilarious joke at the end [which I could do], or some mushy talk about how great my friends are [which I could also do], I instead have to hurry up and post this sucker.  My friends Lady Antebellum are performing on the Today Show in just a few minutes, and I think I would really get mocked openly if I said, “Sorry I missed your song, I was busy blogging.”

Marie Christmas.

[It just doesn't get old. I'm still laughing. Sue me.]

So I go to a homeopathic doctor.  Don’t judge me.  Cause I totally love it and you would too.  I’ve been going for about a year and since I started, my migraines have decreased by 95% and I no longer drink caffeine. AND I’M STILL A NICE PERSON.  Which is saying a lot.  And the people who work there are AWESOME.

I go see Doc about once a month for a little disease we like to call Nun-Ya-Biz-Itis.

I was talking with Sarah today and telling her about my appointment and she said, “Why do you never blog about that?” because today was mildly bizarro and totally blog-worthy.

First of all, when I sat down, Doc made me put my hand on this cut out of a hand that is made of metal.  I can’t find a picture online, but it looks like a big computer mouse with metal bars to put your fingers on.  So, my hand is there and Doc hits a button on the computer, and after about four minutes, all sorts of dots come up on the computer screen.

Doc “hmm….”s and “huhhh…”s and then says, “Annie, is the router for your wireless network in your bedroom?”

I was shocked.  My eyes bugged out cause I don’t know about you, but I think that is FREAK-EE that he can know that.  And it sorta made me feel like I was in trouble.

And I slowly said, “yyyeeeaahh…”

Doc said, “well, you should probably turn it off at night.”

I nodded in agreement.  Mainly because I was speechless.  And I hate to get in trouble.  [First child syndrome to the max.]

Another click on the computer, another thoughtful moment, and Doc says, “Annie, do you feel cold a lot?”

Now, NO ONE knows this, but I FREEZE at night.  In fact, I sleep in fleece socks, fleece pants, short sleeve tshirt, long sleeve tshirt, and a fleece pullover.  I cover up with a sheet, down comforter, blue blanket, and heavy blanket from Mexico.  And I usually pull the blankets up over my head because, and this is an interesting fact, my nose can not handle the cold.

[My mother says that is too personal to tell you, but I have no problem with you knowing that I have a blanket from Mexico.]

So at this point, I’m staring at him like he’s about to tell me the name of my husband [please] and the amount of money in my bank account [no thank you].  And I answer, “Yes, actually. Nashville is kinda cold and my bedroom is particularly cold.”

“Well, you need to warm it up.”

“Yes sir,” I replied, lifting my jaw off the floor.

“And I think that some light therapy might help.” And with that he tells me to follow him and hands me a pair of turquoise-lensed glasses.

So I don’t know what you were doing from 9-9:30am EST, but I was sitting in a room, door closed with overhead lights off, rocking a cool pair of glasses, while a three foot long bright blue strobe light blinked in my face.

I may have had a few seizures, but it was totally worth it.

Because THAT is a great story.  And I live for that junk.

*Update- 1000 words done yesterday.  Yay!  29,000 to go!!*

I’m setting a goal. But I need your help.

I’ve been working on a book for a while, and a literary agent in California wants it as soon as it is done.

[That is exciting.]

The book is supposed to be around 50,000 words.

[That is a lot.]

I have 20,000 words written, edited, and saved in the DONE! file.  I have more words “written”, but they haven’t been read over and edited and actually considered on the “suck or not” scale.  So I’m not counting those.

Because I work in small increments of motivation success, here is the plan:

By December 31st, I should have 30,000 words written.

And by January 10th, I should have 40,000 words written.

And then by January 20th, I should have 50,000 words written.

And then on January 21st, I’m going to lay in my bed mumbling many incoherent things and probably ice my swollen fingers.

But I’m going to do it.

I need you.  To pray.  To not let me forget.  To remind me to work harder than I ever have before.

So I’m asking you to join me, for the next 30 days, and pray really hard that God would give me the words.  I’m grateful that I’m not dependent on my own mind and my own vocabulary [because my brain stores words like "skillz" and "biz-nass"].  Instead, I depend on the One who created words to give me the right ones.

If you are willing to commit to this with me, [and I'm not playing around you seriously have to commit because I do not think I can do this if I don't have people praying], please leave a comment and make sure you put a good email address in that box.  Cause for realz, I’ll going to email out specific prayer requests that I won’t bog down the blog with. I reserve this space for more life-changing things like videos with Annie Parsons.

Is this selfish to use my blogmies/bloggites to pray this project to completion?  Maybe.  But I’d rather share this victory with you, and let you watch as I toil and try and fight through this thing.  Cause maybe there is something in your heart that you don’t think you can do because of time, money, skillz, whatever.

I’m here to show you, in the next 30 days [I hope], that God loves the hard stuff.  And He loves to show up for us.

That I can do all things [like write a book!] through Christ who strengthens me!

AND SO CAN YOU.

Oh, and if there is something YOU want to do in the next 30 days, tell me so I can be praying for you, too!!  The ole give and take.  I’m all about it.

[I just wrote 482 words in this post.  Halfway to my goal today.  Too bad this isn't going in the book.]

Thank you for your sweet comments yesterday.You are good to me. Thanks for speaking truth that I couldn’t find on my own.

There are some shows in Nashville that I have been hearing about since I moved up.  Some shows are epic, year after year, or whenever the particular band comes to town, and you have to go.  Because everyone else you have ever met will be there.  Because they know.  They KNOW.  It’s epic.

So it was with Andrew Peterson’s Christmas Show- “Behold the Lamb of God”- which is an album you need to purchase. Like, now —>

Pretty much Andrew Peterson has become my favorite all around writer- books and music. I want him to be the sensei to my literary karate kid.

Type on. Type off.

I’m going to go ahead and say I may not do the best job recapping this event.  Because of aforementioned mild devastation.  And because music does this thing to me which I can never fully write out.  It moves me deeper than that.

The Ryman Auditorium, where the concert was, is music history in building form.  So there is something about sitting in there that just makes you feel.  Feel the past.  Feel the music.  Feel the tingle in your fingers as you lay them on the wood bench to anchor yourself as you scoot to the edge. Because to sit back, for me, was to be too far away.

The first half of the show is songwriters singing originals.  Which was layers of heaven for me.  Bebo Norman, long time respected by your blogista, sang one.  As did Andrew Peterson.  As did Andy Osenga- who taught me that yes, I actually do have a favorite electric guitar player [it's him]. Michael Card was there, singing some OLD SCHOOL CCM hits that Annie circa 1990 loved. As was Jill Phillips and Randall Goodgame and Andy Gullahorn and Ben Shive.  I mean, y’all.  I could go on and on.  [Go listen to all these folks and consider that your Christmas present from me. You're welcome.]

The second half is the Behold the Lamb of God album, start to finish, with no talking in between songs.  It tells the story of Jesus’ birth, starting in Genesis- going through the whole Old Testament, describing how it speaks to the birth of Christ over and over. Then they sing about Jesus.  Which I always enjoy, cause they’re talking about Someone many of us have come to love deeply.

I’m listening to it now as I write [a "technique" used in the biz, if you will ], and I’m tearing up just hearing “Deliver Us” again.  Because that whole album pours into your heart and attaches to the edges and almost makes you feel sick it is so good.

And I go to church with these people.  And they worship the same Jesus that I’m depending on.

They write albums, and leave their families to tour the US for all of December, and they write books, and they learn to play instruments better than 98.9% of the population- all to bring the spotlight to this little baby who changed everything.  Forever.

I have a new Christmas tradition. A new heart for the season. And a new album that I CANNOT quit playing.

Wanna read Andrew Peterson’s take on the show?  GO HERE. Obviously, it’s way better than this post.  Well done, Sensei.

My friend Justin is from New York.  I am from Georgia.  And Justin says that a major difference between Northern and Southern parents is this- Southern parents make their daughters feel like they can do ANYTHING.  Never mind your skill set or ability, “baby, if you wanna do it, then darlin’ you can do it”.

I laughed when he said that, thinking, “He doesn’t get it.  They just love us and want us to know that the world is our mountain oyster.”

[If you get that joke, I apologize.]

Yesterday I had a discouraging defeating day professionally.  I got an email about some of my writing that literally sent my heart to the floor. I’ll be honest, I couldn’t even read the entire thing.  I read a paragraph, then closed my computer and watched TV through the blurring tears.  [The Cosby Show is soothing, I don't care what you say.]

Being that I don’t employ an assistant [currently], I knew I was going to have to finish reading the email myself.  So I put on my working woman face and read it.

And once the shock wore off and my mind began to clear, this popped into my head- Justin was right.

Just because I want to do something, doesn’t necessarily mean I can do it.  Example- I really REALLY want to play the piano, but I can’t. I want to be a back up singer, a famous actress, go on tour around the USA in a bus, and have my own cooking show.

And I really want to be an excellent writer and a competent editor.

I went to the Andrew Peterson Christmas show last night and the first 30 minutes devastated me.  Because I watched some of the people I respect the most as songwriters (Peterson, Osenga, Bebo) perform songs they have written that are so good it makes my insides hurt.

And then there’s me. Nashville’s most recent writing failure.

I was sitting next to my friend Sam and I kept thinking, “DO. NOT. CRY. ANNIE. DO. NOT. CRY.”, cause poor Sam did not sign up to deal with a face smack of my crazy.

And I didn’t cry.  Because I began to sense God calming my heart and speaking rationally to me.  Though Justin may be right and Mama may be wrong about my immense amount of skillz, I’m good, I’m just really new at this.  These dudes who write great music and words that cause deep emotion?  They’ve been doing it for YEARS.  This Christmas show alone has been going on for 9 years.  9 years ago I was a sophomore at UGA.  From then until now these musicians have been practicing their craft full time.

I have been practicing my craft full time since the neighborhood pools closed for the winter.  So.  That’s about 5 months.

I have to work harder and constantly improve as a creative person- in editing and writing.  And meanwhile focus on finding work in the areas that I really excel at- like this kind of writing, where we’re just talking. And writing that cracks you up. And editing stories that need flow and heart. And helping other writers sound better.

And I have to remember that I have time.  Time to get better.  Time to gain the experience I need.  Time to get paid enough to buy trendy clothes guilt-free.

Time to become the writer that the email says I’m not [but my Southern parents say I am].

__________

Tomorrow, an upbeat fun-to-read blog about the AP Christmas Show.  Sorry to be Debbie Downer two Fridays in a row.  Sheesh.

I’m going to direct you to Annie Parsons‘ blog post for today, because I think she explained our Wednesday night MUCH better than I can.

I’ll just say ALL THE SINGLE LADIES got together last night and had what some would call an eventful evening.

And let me just stop here and give big props to Annie P because when I called her and said “Get yourself down here right now because we are about 30 minutes into a REALLY GOOD TIME”, she said, “I’m in my pajamas….. but I’ll be there in 15.”  That’s a trooper, folks.

She also got MVP last night because she knew some friends at location #1 who invited us to location #2 which ended up being a riot.  [Not like the crazy, flame-throwing, tear gas kind, but the hilarious kind.]

I really want to tell you all about it, but some stuff is unbloggable.  It just is.  Partly because a broken heart is involved [not me] and partly because movie stars are involved [not me again].

But I think it would be okay to show you a bit of what we were doing.  This isn’t *exactly* us.  It is shockingly close, though. The main difference is that our leotards were red and green.  It is Christmas after all.

If you don’t love that, I don’t know you anymore.

So, I’ve got my fingers crossed that Thursday will be equally as awesome.  I get to go to my first show at the Ryman Auditorium- Andrew Peterson‘s Behold The Lamb of God Christmas show.  All the cool kids will be there, so I obviously must attend as well.

I’ll give you a full update.  Don’t worry about that. Unless Annie P writes a better one.  Then I’ll just send you to her.  Again.