Part 1. I haven’t forgotten that I have a blog. I promise.

Part 2. I haven’t forgotten the things you said to me on December 9, 2010.

I like to go back and read that blog post. I like to think about all the things that you want to do with your life. I like to wonder if you have made a move in the direction of that dream. Or I wonder if sometimes you remember what you wrote.

It was a simple question…

Be brave.

Just say it.

My dream is __________________.

. . . . .

And it is amazing to read the comments and see the ones that have come to pass. Like Jessica.

Yep. That’s the same girl you see in my picture taken in downtown Prague. She did it. She moved there.

. . . . .

And look at Jamie.

Now she has a booth at the Tennessee Antique Mall. Amazing, yeah?

And I just have to wonder about the other 85 commenters. Have they stepped towards that dream?

. . . . .

I had a birthday in 2006.

My family and I went to one of my favorite restaurants. I ordered grilled chicken and the most delicious macaroni and cheese that I’ve ever tasted. [The restaurant has since closed and I mourn that.]

My dad passed over a card. Inside was a small sum of money and a handwritten note. On the note he said, “I hope this helps you step towards your dream of being an author.”

And it did. And I did. And here we are.

. . . . .

Last week I went to my storage unit. [Yes, I'm still mildly homeless. No biggie.] I was looking for a dress that I never found. But I did find one thing I was really looking for. That note from my dad that is displayed in a simple black frame.

I’m stepping again. I’ll tell you all about it soon. But I’m taking some big steps towards some new dreams and I wanted to put that letter on my desk again. I wanted to remember that no matter what, Mama and Daddy took the first step for me. No step is scary when you have those kind of people stepping with you.

I’m making new dreams. Stepping into old dreams. And somehow, releasing those dreams that I have completed… though I don’t know what that looks like yet.

. . . . .

So I think of you.

Are you stepping towards the dream you were brave enough to confess a year ago?

Do you have new dreams that you are ready to proclaim to this corner of the internet?

Update me.

Tell me new dreams.

Tell me that you haven’t forgotten.

TOP 5 FRIDAY is when we each list five of our favorite things, depending on the topic. Feel free to join in via the comments or by posting on your own blog and linking back here. Play along. It’s Friday.

. . . . .

There is no reason why I love these songs. I just do. Do I feel a smidge of shame? Maybe. But do I turn the station when the radio plays one of these? Absolutely not.

These are the Top 5 songs that I love dearly, even if it isn’t cool to love them. These are the songs that I remember singing as a child, or as a teen, and knowing that they would follow me into my adult life and be in my heart forevermore.

Don’t judge me. Celebrate with me. Watch the videos, relax into the music. Realize that in days gone by, there was some interesting songs being made that WE ALL STILL LOVE. Okay? Okay. Proceed.

1. Islands in the Stream

Dolly + Kenny = a win. Every time.

. . . . .

2. Fancy

Don’t even get me started. You know how I feel about Reba. If you haven’t read this post from when I stood beside Reba, do it. And mourn with me.

. . . . .

3. I Just Called To Say I Love You

The first boy who thinks to call me and sing this chorus will have my undying affection.

. . . . .

4. Uptown Girl

I grew up singing this song with my Mom. [Uh, dear Mama, do you care that I just told the Internet that you had a thing for Billy Joel in the 80s? Would you like me to also mention that you loved Tom Selleck from Magnum PI?

No? Ok. I won't then.]

. . . . .

5. To Be With You

Right? Who is with me? You know you loved this song. You KNOW you did. You still love it. You still do. It’s okay. This is a safe place. No judgement here.

Also, the key change at 2:30? That’s the stuff that magic is made of.

. . . . .

YOUR TURN!

Go ahead. Fess up. What are some songs that are your guilty pleasure?

It’s been a central conversation piece in about a zillion conversations in the last three weeks or so. It seems that every time a girl and I start to chat, the topic of dating arises and this book makes us gab for twenty extra minutes.

Because every has read it / is reading it / needs to read it.

It is so good, y’all. So so good.

How to Get a Date Worth Keeping

If you are single, you need to buy this book. Buy 2 copies and lovingly give one to another single friend. Y’all read it together and talk about it. Unless you are a girl and you give it to a dude. Just leave him be. Don’t make him discuss it. But this book is for guys and girls, so you can give it away to any singlet you know.

I could go on for 25 paragraphs about how this book is affecting how I think and act and look at dating. And so many of my friends would tell you the same. Even last night at dinner, I went on and on, saying, “you guys! He is right and we’ve been wrong! I’VE been wrong!” and then we all sit in wonder over some of his ideas and thoughts.

That’s all I’m gonna say about it. Go buy it. Read it. Do what he says. And then tell me what you think.

[Caveats galore: I do not know Henry Cloud, the author.... yet, at least. He has not asked me to blog about this or read this book. He is not paying me in any way to promote this book. I am just 100% convinced that HE IS RIGHT and that Christian singles need to read this book. Also, I'm not in 100% agreement with everything he says, so don't get all "I can't believe Annie agrees with that" on me. Okay? Okay.]

. . . . .

Has anyone already read How to Get a Date Worth Keeping? Did you like it? Why or why not?

If you have read my book, you know this already.

I used to hate me. 

As a teenager, I was my own worst enemy. The only thing that was worse than looking in the mirror was looking in the mirror while trying on new clothes. It was horrible. I spent many a high school shopping trips wiping away tears in a dressing room.

I didn’t buy nice clothes. It felt like a waste. I didn’t wear pretty things. What was the point?

My heart breaks for that Annie. She missed so many chances to be beautiful.

God has taken the last decade and a half and done a mighty work in my heart and mind. He has changed me from the inside out. Though I still have to fight the lies in my head, it is minimal compared to what used to rage between my ears.

Hence the reason I want to blog about the most beautiful dress I have ever bought. Because it is a redemptive thing, you see.

There was a fun New Year’s Eve party this weekend, swanky stuff, cocktail attire. My plan was to wear a new bridesmaid dress [that is also, luckily, gorgeous] but I decided to pop up to the mall just for fun. I had a little Christmas cash that I was willing to drop on a new dress.

I entered the department store and encountered a very kind lady. She asked my size, the occasion, and then her eyebrows raised. “How do you feel about sequins?”

See, here’s another thing. When God changed my heart and mind to be able to see myself more the way He sees me, a lot of things changed. I started to genuinely love some girly things that I didn’t before … namely, SPARKLE / GLITTER / SEQUINS.

So when she offered sequins, my eyes said it all. But I still answered, “yes and yes and yes please.”

She reached through a line of dresses hung on a rack to the very back. She said, “we only have one of these and it is in your size.” And then she pulled out a navy blue one shoulder number, covered from top to bottom with blue and black sequins.

I had a few other dresses in my hand, but it was useless. My heart beat always and only for that blue sequin piece of beauty.

I tried it on. I sent a picture from the dressing room to the fashion decision makers in my life. We all agreed.

It was beautiful.

I loved every minute that I got to wear it. And I’m going to wear it as often as possible in the future. To lunch? Maybe, if you ask nicely. To your birthday party? Or your wedding? Or to buy groceries? Probably. Because I love that dress.

(Me and Nichole and Lyndsay)

Why tell this story? It seems weird to spend a whole post talking about a dress.

I’m writing this in honor of that fifteen year old Annie, that girl who didn’t know she was pretty. I’m writing this because I would give anything to sit down with her. She needed to hear that when you look good, you feel good. That a beautiful dress can change the way you look AND feel. She needed to know that she was prettier than she heard in her head.

I didn’t know then. But I know now. And I am so glad to have seen, first hand, that God can take the lies away and replace them with truth.

And that He has made everything beautiful in its time.

[Will you share this story with a young woman in your life who needs to read it? Or a friend who needs to know that there is hope for her sad heart? Maybe she will listen better than I did. Maybe she will find a beautiful dress sooner than I did.]

Also. Just for kicks. I got my nails painted with tiny confetti sequined nail polish. Do you love or do you love? Try it sometime. You’ll be glad you did.

. . . . .

Do you have a piece of clothing that you LOVE? Tell me about it!

Here are two short [not comprehensive] lists.

Some things I am good at:

- making chicken and dumplings [betcha didn't know that.]

- cheering for my favorite team until the bitter end [The Georgia Bulldogs? Have mercy.]

- wearing a lot of glitter/sequins/sparkles [I am going to write an entire post about my NYE dress. Because it is the most beautiful thing I've ever owned ever and I would wear it every day if it was socially acceptable. Alas, it is not.]

Some things I am the worst at:

- keeping resolutions [read on....]

- making sweet tea [I try. I really do.]

- wearing high heels from the start of an event until the very end [I can't and I won't.]

. . . . .

So the fact that it is the third day of 2012 and I have only flossed 1/3 of the year when I absolutely told my dentist I would floss 365 times in 2012 does not surprise me one bit. Because something in my mind said “resolution for 2012″ and something else in my brain said “nope, we don’t do those.”

[But y'all. Seriously. We should all be flossing. I'm not making an excuse for my dental behaviors, or lack thereof.]

So here’s my only plan for 2012.

I’m going to write.

[Everything else I do will be a total surprise to all of us. ]

. . . . .

I still feel a bit out of sorts in my Nashville life. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy. So so happy. I’m almost giggly. I’m staying with some dear friends while I search for a home and I can’t find that ONE BLUE DRESS in my storage unit that I want to wear and while some exciting things are happening, they make my life feel unstable… in a fun bounce house kind of way.

Which is why when GMail tried to change the way my inbox looked, I absolutely refused. I’m just in that place in my life where I need something to look just like it did in January of 2011 thank you very much. Also, the new design is totally ugly, isn’t it?

. . . . .

See these dots between topics? That’s because I have lost my ability to transition.

. . . . .

Have you seen the comments from the (in)courage post about being single? Whoa to the whoa. Y’all. Have you ever? I told my friends that I feel like I’ve gathered all these women together and now I have to stand in front of them and very dramatically say, “Thank you all for coming here today! I have no idea what to say to you!”

Kidding. I’ll figure it out. God is stirring up some things at (in)courage that we are going to share soon and it’s all very fun and interesting and wow.

. . . . .

Your prayers during this transitional period would be really sweet.

. . . . .

I’m really REALLY excited about 2012. Are you?

[Here's Deportation Part 1. Probably pretty important to read so you can pick up with us today.]

So after Richard is convinced that my flatmate’s phone number is a fake, he asks for another number. I give him the pastor’s phone number. At this point, it’s been about 25 minutes and Richard had fully interrogated me about everything under the Scottish sun.

My spirit inside me is praying like crazy. To be blunt, this didn’t feel like a natural thing… it felt supernatural. It felt spiritual. The Bible says that our battle is not against flesh and blood [and grumpy Richard]… so I began to pray that God would win this battle and allow me into the country.

As Richard left to go call the pastor, I sat down in a chair. And I had a Blazing Furnace conversation with God.

I said,

“Hey God, just like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, I know what You are able to do. I know You can rescue me from this situation. I know You are able to save me from deportation. I don’t think I’m done here in Edinburgh. BUT EVEN IF YOU DON’T, even if I get sent home today, I’m not mad. I will still praise You. I have still loved my time here and I am still grateful.”

I know that sounds sugar sweet and whatever, but it wasn’t. I said it through gritted teeth and with a begging heart. It was a painful tearful moment alone in an airport. I didn’t want to leave Edinburgh. But what else could I do?

I can barely hear Richard on the phone, but his voice is angry. And now I’m SURE I’m going home. [Here's where Richard earned the name on his nametag.... he said untrue things to the pastor to try to trick him - he made the pastor believe I had said things that I hadn't said. Pastor told the truth. I told the truth. But Richard tried to trap us.]

I get it. I’m not mad. His JOB is to protect his country from dangerous people. And truthfully, it’s sweet innocent women like me that can be the really nasty ones. So Richard, bless him, was just doing his job.

When he came back from the phone call, probably 15 minutes later, his demeanor totally changed. [Insert miracle here.] He spoke kindly to me, he slowly explained why I should be deported and every reason that the right thing to do was to deport me, and then he said, “but I’m going to let you stay.”

And I almost fell on the floor with relief.

The Lord had done it. The warring angels, I believe, defeated that which tried to keep me out of the country. I don’t know if you’ve been in a situation like that, but I’m telling y’all, the atmosphere changed. No joke. I knew that the battle had been fought and I knew it had been won.

[Also, at the point, pastor and his wife and others they told were praying like CRAZYTOWN, so it certainly wasn't just me.]

Richard did, however, put a massive stamp in my passport that makes it illegal for me to go back to the UK until mid-2012. So he didn’t let me leave without a little hand slap.

Touche, Richard. Touche.

Morals of the story:

1. ALWAYS get a stamp in your passport, even if you are coming home.

2. Flying between European countries is VERY VERY DIFFERENT than traveling between US states.

3. Proverbs 19:21 — “Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.”

4. That verse would still be 100% true if I got deported.

Amen.

I rarely write about being single. There are a lot of reasons why that I won’t take time to list today. But a big one, if I’m being completely honest with you, is that I don’t want to be the poster gal for Single Christian Life. I just don’t.

You know what happens to poster people? They stay poster people.

The Single Christians Life poster girl? She stays single. And that’s a scary thought.

[Fine. You're right. That is a ridiculous thing to believe. But most fears are, aren't they?]

Do you know what finally convinced me to write about being single?

You.

The ones of you who commented on Day 28, the ones of you who email me and tell me the things about being single that you don’t want to leave in a comment, the ones of you who comment at (in)courage.

Do you know what REALLY convinced me to write about being single?

God.

I felt a real push from Him over the last few months to write about the honest emotions that are happening in this season of my life. If I wait until I’m married to tell you what this feels like, it won’t be authentic. It will be a memory.

Hope comes in more concentrated doses if you are getting it from someone IN the moment, versus in the memory.

So I’m not the poster girl for Single Christian Life.

I’m the poster girl for Hope.

Hop over to (in)courage today to see the beginnings of what God is doing for single women through that community….

[And for you gals who are here every day, 'singlets' as I like to call us, first of all, I'm sorry I haven't talked more about this. Secondly, please give your 2¢ over at (in)courage. We REALLY want to know how to do this well.]

[Also, part 2 of the deportation story is tomorrow. Here's Deportation Part 1 if you haven't gotten to read it yet.]

. . . . .

Are you new around these parts? Well welcome! 

Hi. I’m Annie. I write books for my job.

You can read more about me here.

You can follow me on twitter here.

You can like me on facebook here.

. . . . .

Your thoughts today, my friends?

I’ve been strategically waiting until there was no way I would go to jail or be banned from the UK to tell you this story.

I’m thinking that since I’ve been home for one month + one week, now is an okay time.

Thesis statement: In October, Scotland tried to deport me.

Supporting details:

If you’ll recall, during the latter half of October, I spent a weekend in Prague with some of my dearest college friends who live there now. These people.

[I didn't do a great job blogging about Prague because it was right smack in the middle of 31 Days of Courage. Forgive me. But I did make a facebook album of pictures. Hopefully that will suffice.]

A simple mistake I made is I thought, “Oh, I’m just hopping to another EU country… no biggie.” So I didn’t bring my folder of paperwork [bank statements, printed flight info, etc.] with me to Prague. It was just a weekend visit between two friendly European countries.

Well, I had a lovely time in Prague and landed back in Edinburgh on Monday night around 9:30pm. There are two lines at customs- EU residents and other. In our entire flight of people, there were only two ‘other’ – me and a blonde gal. The blonde gal went through the line and then it was my turn.

I stepped up to the gentleman at customs. We’re gonna call him Richard. I’m not going to actually call him by the name on his nametag because a) you wouldn’t believe me and b) it is a cuss word and you’ll think he totally earned the nickname. Anyways, Richard.

Richard looks through my stuff and says, “How long have you been in the UK?”

I say, “Since July.” Which is a totally true and perfectly legal answer.

See, there is a rule that you can be a tourist for up to 6 months out of a 12 month period without having a visa. Since I was only going to be in Scotland 5 months and 28 days, I did not have a visa.

He shows me on my passport that back in February, when I returned from my month in the UK, I did not get a stamp on my passport saying I landed in Atlanta.

So pretty much, it looks like I’ve been living in Scotland without a visa since January [because I have an entrance to the UK stamp in January and an entrance stamp in July, but no exit stamp.]

Not good, my people. Not good.

Richard says, “I’m sorry. But I’m going to have to send you back.”

And I’m like, “BACK!!?? I WASN’T EVEN HOME! I WAS JUST IN PRAGUE FOR THE WEEKEND! I HAVEN’T BEEN IN AMERICA SINCE JULY! BUT I WAS IN AMERICA IN JULY! I HAVE A FLAT FULL OF STUFF AND I DON’T KNOW HOW MY FLATMATES WILL PACK IT ALL AND I AM ALLOWED TO BE HERE AND PLEASE DON’T SEND ME TO AMERICA TONIGHT!”

I panicked.

Then he asked to see my paperwork [yep, the paperwork I mentioned above that I didn't have].

Then he asked for details of what I would be doing every.single.day. for the last four weeks of my time there. I answered with a shaky voice.

Then he asked for my flatmate’s phone number.

He tried to call her and for some unknown reason, it wouldn’t go through.

So he comes back to me and says, “Ms. Downs, that is a fake number and both you and I know it. Please give me a real number of someone I can reach.”

[PS- he copied my flatmate's number OUT OF MY PHONE so obviously, it is the same one I used every day. Crazy stuff.]

At this point, I am sweating like I’ve run a half-marathon, I can’t exactly breathe, and I’m shaking like a polaroid picture because I am working through in my mind what happens to a person when they get deported.

Because Richard is about to deport me. For realz.

to be continued…..

Luke 2: 8-14

Merry Christmas, y’all.

Instead of a normal Top 5 Friday today, I’d just love to hear from you! So here are the Top 5 questions I have for you. Answer one or all… I’m not the boss of you.

1. What gift do you hope to get this Christmas?

2. What gift are you excited to give this Christmas?

3. Will you go to church on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, or both? [bonus question: Does your church have services on Sunday morning? Mine doesn't.]

4. What’s  your favorite family tradition on Christmas Day?

5. Does your family open gifts on Christmas Eve?