Don’t be mad when I tell you that at time of writing, it is still Thursday night.

I have just gotten back to the hotel and I’m sitting on my bed, in the quiet, tears streaming down my face. It has been that type of day.

I have lots of pictures, but they are on my phone and sorry to tell you, I’m a writer. And I want to write about today.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned this, but I’m officially here as Anne Jackson’s assistant. You know, the coffee-getting, purse-carrying, protect-her-from-creepos kind of assistant. It’s been a joy. It has not been work at all but instead, it has allowed me to serve my friend. To watch over her and care for her and I am so grateful for the opportunity.

Anne was officially hosting Seth Godin, which means she walks him from Point A to Point B and Point B to stage to lunch, you get it. So the three of us, and Seth’s assistant Ishita, palled around all day. Seth is a strong voice in my life, a mentor for sure. So to hug his neck, talk of my plans (that have failed and succeeded) and catch up was a real gift.

Scott Harrison spoke again today, from the main stage. Be still my beating NPO heart. It was awesome and moving and he commanded that room of 13,000. My biggest takeaway from his talk was that our world is in need and I have too much stuff.

Next was Daniel Pink. I had not heard of him. He is a business dude, and I thought he was cool and probably significantly smarter than me. My biggest takeaway from his talk is that I need to start doing my own monthly performance reviews at Mocha Club and in my writing career. And ask myself, “Was I better today than yesterday?”

Seth Godin was next. He was great. As usual. Really reminding us in the work force that we don’t have to look like everyone else, that failures are a part of success, and that being generous is always a good choice. Be willing to experiment and fail. Pretty much, he’s awesome.

Then I got to hear my girl Beth Moore. I just adore her and contribute so much of my writing career path to her inspiration. [Someday I'll tell you that story.] She said this and I hope it sticks with me forever: “Don’t surrender to an area of work or ministry, just surrender to God. Hold tightly to Him and nothing else.” That’s a good word, Beth. A good word.

Then. Then. Francis Chan. I don’t even know what to say. He totally messed up my life. He spoke on how the Bible tells us to treat the poor. This one is hard to recap because my heart is still gently bubbling and boiling and I think Jesus and I have some things to work out before I can really talk about what he said. My takeaway? I just want to be like Jesus. That’s it. I want to know Him and brag about knowing Him. I want to live in a way that people see Jesus. I want to be free to follow the Holy Spirit’s lead and I want my life to be marked by courage and kindness.

So. That’s that.

I have deeply loved this experience. I’ve learned a ton and made some great connections. I’ve gotten to see so many friends, hug so many necks, laugh with my normal Nashville peeps [like Katy, Jeremy, Lindsey, Spence], and reconnect with some friends from other parts of my life. I even got to see one person who used to be a very close friend but things are broken. It was good and hard and needed and I hope someday we’ll be okay.

Sadly, I don’t get to go to Catalyst tomorrow. But on the upside- Seth is having a day long seminar in Atlanta, complete with free books, sushi, networking, and vegan desserts. So I’ll be there, hob-knobbing with other linchpins, and soaking.it.all.up.

Sorry these posts have been wordy. Forgive my long-windedness. [Try talking to me in real life sometime. It's just as bad. Maybe worse.]

Happy Friday.

I think I may have forgotten to mention this.

I’m at Catalyst in Atlanta.

What is Catalyst, you ask?

Well, according to the Catalyst website, “Catalyst was created to meet the felt need that existed within the church leader space for a leadership event that was focused on a new generation of church leaders.”

Is yours truly, AnnieBlogs, a church leader? Why no. No she is not.

But. I am a Christian with a few leadership roles, and a bunch of my friends were coming here, so I jumped in the car and sped down to Atlanta [which a trip to the hometown is never a bad idea]. I’m shacking up with Bianca, Lindsey, and Trish. Bianca is a newlywed and threatened more than once to cuddle with me. I said, “you’re the best, but no thanks.”

We ate lunch with a bunch of friends, I met tons of people and the conversations started like this:  ”Hi, I’m Annie. I recognize you from Twitter.” And it has been true every time. It seems that on Wednesday, the Labs day, most people are fairly familiar with each other. Thursday promises 13,000 people and I PROMISE I won’t know most of them.

There were two main highlights from Wednesday [...besides the friends. You know me, the people are always the highlight.]

Highlight #1: I had a three hour dinner with two of my very favorite dudes- Jeremy and Kyle. We all work together pretty regularly, but don’t see each other much. It was fun and thought-provoking. It was silly and deep. It was business and good times. I describe Kyle and Jeremy like this- they are the brothers that I have always never wanted. They pick on me and annoy me and I love them both to pieces.

[This was us in 2009. My hair was LONG and they are TALL. They are still tall, but in 2010, I cut my hair.]

Kyle took a picture at dinner of Jeremy and I in deep thought. Or….

We’re having a staring contest. In which case, I won. I always do.

Highlight #2: The labs on Wednesday were phenomenal- my bud-ski Anne Jackson and my other bud-ski Carlos Whittaker, Jeremy, Michael Hyatt, John Ortberg.

But by far, the moment that I would have driven all this way for- the lab by Jamie Tworkowski from To Write Love on Her Arms and Scott Harrison from Charity:Water.

Scott on left, Jamie on right

Now, you know me. You know I don’t get star struck. But when it comes to the world of non-profit workers [like me at Mocha Club], Scott Harrison is pretty much the bees’ knees. There are tons of things that Charity:Water does REALLY right and he’s the head of that ship. So. I pretty much sat as close to the front as possible, hung on his every word, and avoided eye contact.

Because I’m mature.

He’s just the coolest. In my mind, he’s the quarterback of the football team at Non-Profit High School. So it was pretty much delightful to be in the same room listening to him.

[By the way, Jamie is cool too. We have lots of mutual friends and talked for a bit. I just have a major NPO crush on Charity:Water.]

So that was a very long discussion on my first day ever at a Catalyst event.

Today holds lots of promise, including lunch with one of my heroes, Seth Godin. I haven’t seen him since New York, so I’m guessing I’ll tear up when I hug him.

Cause you know, that’s how I do. I’m a crier.

See y’all tomorrow.

[That may not be how the song goes.... just move along.....]

If you would have told me when I was 22 that I would be 30 and single, I wonder what I would have done differently.

Don’t get me wrong- I think God led me and guided me and gave me the most beautiful decade I could have ever wanted.

But. I wonder where my fear held me back. How much more could He have given me if I would have opened my hands to it? I’ll never know.

Let’s be deeply honest: I wonder where my fear of being single forever held me back. I know [like deep in my knower] that there were times that I made choices out of a “what if that keeps me from getting married” mindset.

Here I sit. 30 and single. And I don’t want to be 40 and look back on this decade, whether single or married, and wonder where my fear stopped me from being brave with Jesus.

So. I purchased a plane ticket.

To Scotland.

To finally do something I have wanted to do since I was a 19 year old sophomore at the University of Georgia.

I’ll be living in Scotland… for one month.

From January 17 – February 16, I will be living outside of Edinburgh, still working for Mocha Club, hopefully writing some sort of deeply inspiring words, tapping into my creative well as much as possible, and doing ministry with my friends there. And standing on this rock in St. Andrews just because I can and it reminds me of how near and present our God is.

I do not fear what I will miss being away from Nashville for a month- it happens all the time- boys always head on the road with their bands for more than 4 weeks.

I fear what I would miss if I stay.

I’m not leaving Nashville. How could I? My community here is stuck with me, whether they like it or not. I’m not moving away. I’m just embracing an opportunity to live for a bit in a country that has long held my heart.

Why blog about it now? Because I am about to jump out of my skin with excitement and now that I have purchased my flight, I want to tell my friends in Scotland. This is the easiest way.

I can’t wait to spend this much time with my friends on the other side of the Atlantic. It’ll be hard and weird and different and awesome.

And whatever God has planned, I’m not afraid.

I left fear behind at 29.

It just plain doesn’t fit into my schedule at 30.

Dear Shelby Jennings Boatman,

I don’t know when, if ever, you will actually read this. But I’ve gotten in the habit of writing letters to my friends’ babies and well, you are my friend’s baby.

Like, a really brand spankin’ new baby.

Shelby, I want to tell you something. For the rest of my life, when I think about God answering prayers, I will think about you. I cannot tell you how many nights I sat and cried with your mama, praying that someday, she would have a child. I can’t tell you how many roadblocks tried to keep you from ever being a being. Ask your parents that stuff- it’s a lot of technical medical mumbo-jumbo.

But I can tell you the minute your mom told me you were coming, I knew that God heard us. I knew that you were the one He made, the one He picked for such a time as this, the one that didn’t need to be a day earlier but couldn’t be a day later. I am as sure as the sun rises that your life has purpose. Live like it, Shelby. Live a life with purpose because I knew you before you were you and I am certain the girl I prayed for is a part of God’s story for this world.

Your parents are going to absolutely make you crazy. Your dad is going to take too many pictures and your mama is going to make too many lists and she will teach you be so polite it will make you sick (and well-mannered). And at some point, I know that you will say how glad you are that Ansley and Adam are your parents. Your grandparents are going to want to talk to you on the phone. Do it- they are amazing and you have a lot to be thankful for in your gene pool. Your aunts and uncles are going to buy you lots of stuff. That’ll be awesome.

And me? Well, I’m going to want to bake lots of cookies and laugh at your jokes. I’m probably always going to ask you what book you are reading and expect a real answer. I may hug you too much because I’m trying to squeeze out some of that faith that your parents have sown into your life. I’m also going to cry a lot. Cause, Shelby, that’s how I roll.

Finally, I want to say thanks. Thanks for being such a tangible reminder of God’s faithfulness. Thanks for showing up, just in the nick of time, before hope was ever off our lips. Someday, when you are old enough to need to hear a story, I’ll tell you mine. And right smack in the middle when you start to wonder if I give up hope that God can hear us when we pray, I’ll say, “here’s where it gets good, Shelby. See, here’s where you came along.”

With so much love,

Honorary Aunt Annie

(Aunt in charge of entertainment)

So you know how I feel about professional soccer. I heart it. Mucho.

After an amazing week at Lake Geneva Youth Camp, I rode the train back to Chicago to hang a few days with one of my besties, Betsy. If there is anything I have learned about myself as a speaker, it is this: I’m not good at “re-entry.” I struggle when it is time to return to my real life and for the first 12ish hours, I am so drained of energy that I am a mere shell of an Annie.

So, I figured Betsy should have to put up with that.

She took me to rehab, in the form of a deep dish pizza joint. And while we ate, Betsy said, “would you want to go to a Chicago Fire game tomorrow night?”

My jaw dropped and I said, “you are a great friend and absolutely.”

Because I have never, no not ever, been to a professional soccer game.

Fast forward to Sunday night. 2 dudes from Nashville, also maj soccer fans, just happened to be in town. They happened to have 2 extra tickets and a parking pass. We happened to have a vehicle. We gave them a ride. They gave us tickets. Bada-boom.

[And this is the point when the story takes a [not] surprising “welcome to Annie’s life” turn.]

Betsy and I say thanks for the free tix then part ways from the dudes, planning to meet at the car after the game. And we head to our seats.

And someone is in our seats. And they have tickets, just like ours, for those exact seats.

We get ping-ponged back and forth between a few employees and come to find out that our seats had been sold. TWICE.

The man behind the counter says, “you can’t go to the game, would you like tickets to another?” and I think the you-just-smooshed-my-puppy-with-your-cement-roller look on my face made him slowly slide the tickets back to us. “You’ll have to leave,” he said. BUT HE HANDED US THE TICKETS!

Betsy and I, heads hanging low (we are actresses, of course), turned around and walked back into the game and just stood by the frozen lemonade stand. Because the view was still pretty awesome.

Betsy and I decide not to tell the boys about the little ticket mishap until after the game. Both being Southern gentlemen, they would have immediately given up their seats. We didn’t want them to do that. Their seats were, well, spectacular.

And we were honestly content. I promise. I was just thrilled to be there.

Then, of course, this text message exchange occurs:

Dude: So, how are the seats?

Me: Great! [Not really a lie- they are great seats, we just can't sit in them. I hoped this would be a sufficient answer for him.]

Dude: Send me a pic!

Send him a pic?!? Sheesh. All I’m trying to do here is keep him from getting up. So, I sent a picture. Of Betsy.

That magically nipped the convo in the bud and we were able to watch the game. It was totally awesome. And even though they ended in a tie, and even though I was super-dee-dooper sweaty, I insisted on being photographed at the stadium.

Cause while I may be cool, calm, and collected at the Grammys, I’m a major geeky super fan at a soccer game.

[Also. Please notice Betsy to my left who will not ever turn around for a picture. Dedicated to the game? Nope. Dedicated to not taking pictures after standing outside in the heat for 90 minutes? Bingo.]

It has been a challenging couple of weeks for me. I’ve been busy beyond my capacity to handle with grace. It’s a lot to explain, but it has to do with prepping for Lake Geneva Youth Camp combined with a two co-workers being in Africa and a third co-worker being on maternity leave and the list could just continue.

I think “busy” is one of the enemy’s power plays with me. Get me busy, make me lose focus and feel like a lunatic, and my effectiveness drops by about 45%. It’s a mathematical fact.

So today I head to Wisconsin. I have the pleasure of taking a train from Chicago up to the camp and I can hardly contain my excitement. I heart public transportation. And cooler weather. And somehow I think it is going to feel like when Anne of Green Gables first took the train to Prince Edward Island.

[The life I live in my head is rooted in some deep romanticism, eh?]

[Sarah's fault. The Canada talk and all.]

Anyways, because you are my people and I appreciate your prayers, I’d like to express a few specific things you can pray for me as I’m speaking at this camp.

#1. Pray that God would give me favor with the middle school girls. They can be a tough crowd. Trust me- I’m telling some of my very.best.stories, but I want God’s favor as well.

#2. Pray that God would bring life change in many hearts, including my own.

#3. Pray that the messages I share (all TEN of them) will speak clearly to the girls and make sense. You know, sometimes I don’t make a lot of sense. I overuse the letter Z and things of this nature.

#4. Pray that amidst the ministry, I would feel rested. Today I feel absolutely beyond exhausted and my mind is like a gerbil on an exercise wheel.

#5. Pray for safe travel, health, you know- all the basic jazz.

#6. Pray that this would open up more doors for me to speak to girls about the joy of living for Christ. I love doing this junk but I DO NOT want to be this guy, so pray for the balance of humility and embracing opportunities.

#7. Pray that above all else, WAY above all else, God would be honored and glorified. I’m me because of Him. Anything you like in me is really Him. So, when it is all said and done, I want people, specifically the teen girls, to remember Him.

Camp starts Sunday and concludes next Saturday. And honestly, I’ve been looking forward to this since February.

So I’ll take the train north, to a new world I have never seen, then I guess I’ll wait at the station for my ride to pick me up. Familiar story, if you ask me….

I’m going to let the pictures do the talking. Because truthfully, I can’t talk about my birthday dinner/party without crying. In fact, I didn’t even make it through the creation of this glorified slideshow without boo-hooing.

Because I am overwhelmed. Still. A week later.

Enjoy the gorgie-poo decor… and the delicious food… and the beautiful hearts of the men who served … and the genuine laughter on the faces of a few girls who really love each other.

The song is Home by the most wonderful Dave Barnes. And when this song drifted from the speakers into my ears during the party, I stopped, listened, and teared up. Because these lyrics say it.

Photography by the dearest Skip Hopkins. He not only captured the beauty, he captured the emotion. That’s a gift.

I’ve tried to write thank you notes, but they fail to tell the depths of my appreciation for what my friends did for me. Even as a writer, the English language is failing me. I just know that my heart was massively moved by this night.

I will never be the same.

I had to take my shoes off and run barefoot in the rain to be sure not to miss the train. [Classy.]

I’m surrounded by awesome people.

I still haven’t eaten a Magnolia Bakery cupcake, but that is in my future. Don’t you worry about that.

I’m talking about music on Twitter because that’s the only part of this experience that I’m allowed to share publicly. [Sorry bout it.]

I’m more proud to be here than you can imagine.

Also, I’m sorry I ran barefoot. I know that doesn’t represent me as a Southern lady. But missing the train wasn’t an option. So. It was a calculated risk. Forgive me, Mama.

Amen.

Seriously.

The only way I can think to even attempt to blog this week while I’m in NYC is either in picture or in list.

But listen. Be thou full of patience. Please. Because my number one goal here is to gain buckets full of knowledge and skill. Not to tell you hilarious stories. [Though you know I want to. Come on. You know me.]

[And I owe you a story about SELF DEFENSE CLASS. Yep. I took it. Saturday. Great stories. Great great stories. Don't let me forget... next week.]

By the way, HERE’S A QUICK REMINDER of why I’m in New York.

Yeah. Totally cool. I know. I’m so so so excited. Like WHOA excited.

So on Sunday—-

- I practiced being a lone sojourner on the NYC Subway system (wimpy rider, party of 1.)

- I was stern with a cabbie and he kicked me out (sorta).

- I saw my friend Ernie Halter which was awesome.

- My Clean&Clear Facewash exploded in my suitcase. [C&C, why I oughta.... grrrr....]

- My iPhone battery is not the champ that one would hope. So listening to music on the Subway + checking my email + twitter + facebook + texting + calling my mama = too much for Anita the iPhone to handle. Lesson? Carry my charge cord with me EVERYWHERE.

- I ventured to Times Square SOLO. Cause I’m brave like that, yo.

[This is taken with an app called QuadCam. You want it. Trust me. It's so stinkin' cool.]

I woke up crazy early this morning, already laid out my clothes and had my bag all packed. So pretty much, it’s my first day of marketing school.

Someone should have sent me a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils.

[1 point for New York reference, 1 point for You've Got Mail reference, 1 point for school reference - ZING!]

then it will be a miracle because you know I have THE WORST sense of direction of all time and I have to take a car to a plane to a plane to a taxi to a subway to a train.

I bet that you can guess by the post title where I am today [New York City!].

And why I was so MIA last week [work + tutoring during finals + prepping for NYC!].

No, there is not a parade that I’ve dreamt of attending for 29 years and no, I am not giving that Peruvian restaurant on the Upper West Side another chance to turn me inside out. [See NYC '09 post here.]

I am going to meet with Seth Godin.

Seth Godin is considered America’s greatest marketer. He writes lots of books I find HUGELY helpful in my life and my professional career(s). He has a blog that is great. And he’s smart. Really smart.

And at 4pm EST today, I’ll be sitting in a room with him, discussing all things marketing, probably talking about the Mocha Club, and possibly going over the fact that HEY I KEEP GETTING MARKETING-LIKE JOBS BUT I DON’T KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT MARKETING (but I want to) SO TEACH ME PLEASE.

And by “don’t know everything.” I mean, “I’m a former elementary school teacher who was trained in many-a-thing, none having to do with social media marketing in 2010.”

Seth is hosting a seminar for 11 people in New York mid-May and I am one of the 22 finalists trying to get one of the 11 seats around his desk.

I’m pretty thrilled to just get 1 seat today, but it would be rad for me to have that same seat in a few weeks to learn. learn. learn.

I’m wearing my pink cardigan because pink goes well with my skin tone- pale. I’m bringing my laptop, mainly because it looks important, not because I plan on showing him any of my facebook albums. I’m staying on the same street as Magnolia Bakery and somehow, by the grace of God alone, I will not have a cupcake.

I am going to have a really good time- in the interview, on the train, with my friend Sara Beth, walking down the streets.

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll get to see New York again in a few weeks.

[And. Your prayers would be appreciated. For the travel. For the interview. For the etc. that comes to your mind. Gracias.]