@ love woke me up this morning ...

funny, it didn't feel like love. it felt like crazy. like chaos. like annoying. like 1:30 a.m. aaaaannnnddddd that b. dillon song has been running through my mind. i don't get too excited about mainstream Christian music. that's an understatement, actually. but whatever- something about that line of lyrics rings true. love woke me up this morning. [sigh].

So.... yes.... open Bible? Ok.... back to Abram... Genesis 15.

God has just shown up and made victory for Abram. God's next move: grant Abram a vision. I'm reading between the lines here a little, but this seems significant, special. It doesn't seem like the OT tells us that everyone got visions from God. There's something about this particular vision that strikes me. My mind is inclined to view God as this stoic, cold-blooded giant who kind of glides around exercising sovereignty that is sort of detached from humanity. This vision leads me to believe something totally different- it's more like a blessing, more like a promise, more like God revealing His warmth to Abram. God calls Abram by name, and tells him to not be afraid. Why? Because God is his shield, and Abram's reward will be grand. Seems like a fairly substantial promise. And yet... Abram's all, "but God, what good is the reward if I don't have children? Because that's the only way I can see this plan playing out the way you say. At this point, my servant is going to be the recipient of the blessing. My SERVANT." His gaze had lowered to his present circumstances. I guess that happens sometimes- we forget that our context is much greater, wider, and richer than what we can see, taste, hear, touch, and smell in the moment. I guess if I were God I'd get all, "shut up, Abram." To be honest, I'm not sure it would have been totally unlike God to respond that way... but He didn't. Instead he says (yet again), "don't worry. You will have a son... from YOU. It's gonna happen." Then God takes Abram out to see the stars- what an intimate moment. God points to nature almost poetically to reaffirm His promise to Abram. This seems extra...in addition to...personalized...caring.

Abram's response : belief.

And THEN..... I love this.... God called him righteous.
Abram is declared set-right-with-God when he believes God's crazy promises.

God continues...
"I am the same God who brought you from Ur, to give you this land... to give you a home, a place to belong." i.e. this tender promise is coming from God who has had his eyes on you- who orchestrated a plan for you- who has been your champion in a wild way.

And yet again Abram asks for reassurance. I am irritated (probably because I get irritated with my own persistent hesitation that I like to pretend is rational).
What I sense from God is deeper honesty. Get this.... He shares some of the darker parts of what is to come with Abram. Maybe that's more believable- a God who acknowledges the darkness and enters into it. God gets even more specific here. He says, "your descendants will be outsiders to a land that is not theirs....they will be enslaved and beaten for 400 years." [Ok... so... God... is going to be silent again?] "I will punish their slave masters....they will march out of there loaded with plunder." [At least there's some promise of provision and restitution.] Abram is told he will personally be spared [to which I can only ask, "why?"]

God acts in a pretty graphic way with some sacrificed animals, and makes a covenant with Abram- it is specific and factual in nature: "your children will get such and such land."

My question is this: what gives? What made this the right time for more specifics? Maybe... maybe it's because Abram demonstrated belief. In honesty, Abram brought his hesitations to the being he called God and master. He was not shamed or scorned- instead he was met with intimacy, warmth, a promise. By my standards, no way was Abram ready to believe God. Hmm... clearly God operated on the contrary... so I'm off on something. It seems that God might not require that we come without any questions or fears or uncertainties. He does require that we bring them to HIM, vs. trying to manage them ourselves (...like how Abram tried to manage his fears when he pretended Sarai was his sister).

Here's a thought - this same God has something specific to say to ME- something that is completely void of shame, something that is oozing with hope, something that is pregnant with adventure, redemption, richness, life.

I'm not sure how, but what I'm about to close with is related to this whole Abram conversation. I have been feeling rather drained of any life-love-blood lately, and I have been asking God to be alive again. My heart honestly and humbly recognizes that I can feel the blood pumping... so much so that I can barely sleep. Funny... the source seems to be things I wouldn't have chosen myself to experience. I am not presuming to be a peer of Abram; and I am presuming to serve the same God- the God who champions for us, who hears us, who dreams big for us, who says "just be all of you, bring it all to me, I want it all." Yes.... it is the God who I do believe woke me up this morning with a love, and a memory, and a dream.

... how long do you want to be loved...

... is forever enough, is forever enough ... "
(d. chicks)

i feel so full. so much in fact that i'm not sure what to do with everything i'm filling up with. this morning i was doing my thing at the gym and this dixie chicks song came on my little iPod. it's a gentle song, not very fast at all... but the way my heart thumped at the lyrics was enough to power me through another set of bicep curls [laugh. go ahead. because it is a funny thing to imagine.] for a few months i've been presenting God with a request for inspiration, for something to sprout out of this uninspired heart, for life. i've felt a little withered for some time, and now it's like blood is starting to pump and flow again. i might even hear a faint heart beat.

it's almost enough for tears.

my eyes are opening. i'm seeing people more fully, i'm seeing myself more clearly, i'm seeing God less fearfully, more peacefully... and longingly. words are coming to me in a new way ... so fast i can barely keep up (sometimes when i'm without paper and a pen, i kind of just ask God to remind me later). i want to listen more, speak less. i've said it before and i'll say it again: i want to be less defensive... resist the temptation to interpret things as threats that aren't really threats. i might just be settling deeper in to myself.

interesting how this fullness, this peace, is happening in tandem with this compulsion to manage and do and fix and resolve. this morning i woke up two hours earlier than i had planned. it was as if my mind never really turned off from last night. "God... what am i supposed to do?" i decided i was going to try to listen to what God might have to say to me rather than jump into problem-solving list-making mode. i could be wrong, but i think i sensed Him telling me to just be. to be present, to be honest, to be congruent, to be whole, to have open hands, to be unapologetic for what He's made me to be. to be without disclaimers, without shame, without hiding, without over analyzing, without preemptively striking myself with a judgmental critique, without bolting and deserting, without grasping or grappling. don't do anything. be, baby, be.

notice... i haven't sensed God tell me to go look for resolution to every tension, to definitively answer every question, to come to conclusions, to make this place in life a decision point. He's inviting me to the freedom and wholeness of being. do i love Him? yes. do i choose Him? yes. then it's His grace and power and sovereignty that fuel me... not fear. He's pushing me out into the world with a simple word: "go."

for the first time in a long time [or ever], i am catching glimpses of the way God has used mistakes, pain, and lack of resolution to carve out a place for Him to whisper to me.

maybe the life that's swelling my heart is love. it's wonderfully terrifying to imagine loving in a way that makes me vulnerable to things like rejection. but the other alternatives are: a) swallow the love, keep it for self, turn into an ingrown person, to rot, or b) deny it is even there, flush out that love blood, not let it even nurture my own soul as it passes through, to calcify, to be brittle.

so....

"how long do you want to be loved?
is forever enough, is forever enough?
how long do you want to be loved?
is forever enough, cause i'm never never giving you up. "

... but i want you to remember my name ...

hmmmm thank you Alanis. once again you manage to articulate what i haven't yet.
"it's not all me." big sigh. "it's not all my fault." bigger sigh. "i won't take it all on." biggest sigh.
for Alanis, "it" is her boy-toy's weirdness and butt-headed-ness.
for me, well, i think "it" is more general.
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6E-LglmCrXk ]

for context, i'm eating jelly bellies as i type, which i continue to find to be the remedy to most problems.
[hmmm... cinnamon... caramel something... creamcicle]

back to the point, although i don't really have a point. I think i just wanted to take a moment to document some items from my developing self inventory.

1. i like listening to Kosi 101.
2. i enjoy the finer things in life. i've tried to deny it because it made me feel snooty. well, no snootiness ... i just like gourmet candy, feather beds, and aveda. so sue me.
3. entrusting someone with more "self" than they have proven worthy of doesn't end well
4. we presume too much. and doubt too much... ironically

[chocolate pudding. disappointing. french vanilla + chocolate pudding = interesting, but still duds-ville]

5. i don't take issue with certain things that others do. and i don't always know how that translates.
6. some-[maybe many]-times it's better to let someone figure it out, rather than try to manage it for them
7. i'm not afraid of exploring questions about life and conclusions, but i do fear losing any sense of grounding, solidarity, commitment, integrity

[omg. cherrrrry.]

8. "i can feel so unloved for someone so fine... so ignorant for someone of sound mind... when will I stop leaving? when will i stop deserting, baby? when will I start staying with myself?" and then "somewhere along the way i gave you the power to make me feel the way..." ahhhh. yes. take back sense of self. that's the ticket.
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xy9q6-kreBY and http://www.lyricsfreak.com/a/alanis+morissette/so+unsexy_20005501.html]
9. must avoid icky smells and germy germs at all costs
10. it's nice to feel like a lady

I am feeling freer this year (ha). I like it. It's easy to be afraid of freedom. I'm sure everyone has their own particular reason, and I'm not even going to speculate about what those might be. I can say that for me, my fear is related to the fact that I seem to unnecessarily define freedom as being free from God, rather than being free with/in the sovereignty of God. Those two things are very very very different. My sense is that it's more of a spectrum... so towards the middle it gets difficult to differentiate. We have responsibility to be aware of self, and take care of business... whether that means surging forward in the freedom that God has given even if others don't get it, OR rooting deep... devoting self to the course when all we want to do is run in any other direction. I'm wondering what it looks like in community - how much are we supposed to interpret someone's sense of freedom for them? How do we let others be responsible for self without becoming so sickeningly relative?

[some kind of melon... interesting... no, intriguing. peach, yes. raspberry something, yes. buttered popcorn... i thought you weren't in there.. but there you were all along. oh the delight.]

a final thought :

The Lord said to Moses,
"Tell Aaron and his sons, 'this is how you are to bless the Israelites. Say to them:
"'"The Lord bless you and keep you;
the Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you;
the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace."'
"So they will put MY name on the Israelites, and I will BLESS them."
[numbers 6:22-27]

I want that... I want His name all over me.



[And just because I can't leave this out... the last jelly bean has left me perplexed.] 

{it's been a long year, and i'm finally ready to be here}

If I'm being honest, 2010 sucked. Big time.

It was a dark year
It was a desert year.

I'm going to resist the temptation to make a judgment about that... {because I would probably end up blaming myself for some cosmic failure}.

Dear Father, thank you for 2011.

I admit, I have this back burner fear that the Mayan calendar prediction is just waiting to prove itself reality. Let's go with that thought for a minute {because most thoughts deserve at least a moment, even if we end up dismissing them as unproductive tangents}. If 2012 is indeed the due date for the end of life as we know it, how do I hope to spend this last year? A few things come to mind... so in no particular order :

@ listen more - to God, to me, to people
@ stop carrying around the burden of interpreting life {conversations, relationships, interactions, conflicts, questions, opportunities} as a threat to my identity
@ settle into myself- be at home in my self
@ accept... maybe even embrace... process
@ invite God into the chaos instead of trying to manage the universe
@ delight
@ feel
@ live without pre-editing, disclaimer-ing {:)}
@ say no to some things- because as a wise woman once told me, saying no gives power to your yes
@ see the potential birthed in missteps
@ express, flow, create
@ take a self-inventory and commit to who I am
@ "Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence. True friendship is a plant of slow growth, and must undergo and withstand the shocks of adversity before it is entitled to the appellation." {thank you George Washington}
@ use my voice

I can't help but notice the anxiety that is already coming as I anticipate this next part of my journey. I know I have freedom and choice... and that there's no path that's holier than the others. But the choice is overwhelming. I think I'd rather have to walk into a definite place without knowledge of what will happen there. I was kind of thinking of Abram ... so I re-opened my Bible to his story. Then I looked back to a page in my journal where I had written down some thoughts on the guy:

Abram is called by God to leave everything he knows {with his peeps} - he sets out for a place God has yet to reveal to him.

Dammit.

He responds to the call by moving with it. If I may be so bold as to read between the lines, I'm guessing he was trusting, grieving the loss of the familiar, maybe eagerly anticipating the adventure ahead.

After this came a promise from God- a promise of blessing, LIFE, sovereignty... a promise that God would be aligned with Abram. And then, he builds an altar {enter personal application: tattoo... yes... I think so}.

Abram's story is full of f-ups. Yet you God, the ultimate covenant keeper, remain true to your promise.

So 2011... my eyes and ears are open. I think I'm ready for the adventure.
Wonderful King and Creator... speak into the dark places, I want to hear your voice.

o come, o come, Thou Lord of might

I just received a text from my mom that read: "dad and sadie just went to play in the snow together!!"
I'm picturing him pulling her in a sled.... and it makes me feel weird. 


But back to the song.

O come, O come, Emmanuel and ransom captive Israel that mourns in lonely exile here until the Son of God appears. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel. 
...
O come Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer our spirits by Thine advent here. Disperse the gloomy clouds of night and death's dark shadows put to flight. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel. 
...
O come, O come, Thou Lord of might, who to Thy tribes on Sinai's height, in ancient times did'st give the law in cloud and majesty and awe. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel. 


I hear this song come up on my iTunes, look up the lyrics, and immediately feel connected to it. The words remind me of some of my favorite Psalms... the lamenting ones. I looooove them because they acknowledge that pain and belief are related- throughout the cries, the author is acknowledging God as Sovereign Lord, Mighty King, and the author ends with a statement of faith in God's passionate, intentional, loving, covenant love. This particular Christmas song and that particular style of Psalm seem to be some of most accurate articulations of my heart lately. O come, O come, Emmanuel. Ransom this captive heart, disperse the gloomy clouds of fear, align my desires with your will.

{are you ready for this?} ...my chick on the side said she got one on the way...

...these are my confessions:

1. it annoys me that i am given a pink spoon every time i go to yogurtland. why never green? is green only for boys? i like green.
2. i judge men who use the phrase "lol"
3. i also judge men who use the elliptical machines at 24
4. Julia thinks I have a "frickin' amazing heart" because i took leftover cake to the homeless man on my route to work. i don't have an amazing heart. i just didn't want the extra calories sitting on the table, taunting me. he is pretty sweet though.
5. on occasion i pretend that i'm Taylor Swift
6. i love love. and love-birds

and the confession of all confessions...

{ i'm starting to see what is lost in isolation }

for a while i have been fascinated with what is gained when you can keep the world at an arms length- privacy, freedom from pesky accountability/responsibility, protection from those who tread carelessly upon our lives.

i've really convinced myself that i can do this crazy thing of life alone. i don't need help, thank you very much. yet i can sit across from a client and suggest that an absence of community is detrimental to their sobriety, and i can really mean it. i can say it with deep conviction and fiery passion.
but what about my own sobriety?
clarification: it is not sobriety from drugs, alcohol, or violence.
it is sobriety from a critical spirit, from stubbornness, from wallowing,
from anything that is not living in the fullness of God.
is not my own sobriety also being compromised?

the past few weeks have really given me a chance to re-evaluate. i have to ask myself if what i am doing is getting me what i need and want. time to turn my boldness back towards myself: No, Leigh Anne. What you are doing is not getting you what you need and what... what you were designed for.

maybe i have thought that i want safety,
when all i really want,
all anyone really wants,
is to be fully me and fully accepted at the same time
to do the messy work of community

i think i've been kidding myself that i'm kind of the community queen, and i just separate myself for protection. hmmm. yeah. well, the more i'm being forced into community, the more i'm realizing that i'm not community queen.

however i'm not sure community queen is actually the appropriate goal, is it? i think the goal is to live like Christ. to allow ourselves to be open like a lake (in the words of sweet Sara); to be open to grace, refinement, challenges, forgiveness, beauty, pain (i don't like that one), joy, peace, anxiety, partnership, miscommunication, reconciliation..... to lifffeeeeeee. right?

right.

: i want to get on with getting on with things :

{subsequent line...}
I want to run in fields, paint the kitchen, love someone
but I can't do any of that here, can I? 

I'll get back to that song in a moment, but first a few thoughts:

1. I'm curious as to how people ever come to think that it makes sense to attempt to flush paper towel
2. male jorts = sickie
3. people in Colorado are irritatingly ok with driving 5 miles under the speed limit
4. sugar-free frosting is gross
5. I just saw a male ponytail that made sense

Oh and a few more things:

* there are luxuries to isolating, there are also serious trade-offs
* the magnitude of one's personal experience of grace is directly proportional to the depth of grace that can be given
* "... what we have lost will never be returned to us. The land will not heal- too much blood. All we can do is learn from the past and make peace with it."
* the way we relate to ourselves will eventually infiltrate the way we relate to others, if it hasn't already
* there are some beauties that simply can not be captured by a photograph, a song, a painting, a poem

And so, back to my original thought: "I want to get on with getting on with things."
Imogen Heap is one of the most brilliant human beings. I might actually chop off a limb to see her in concert. There's something about her awkwardness that is compelling. It hints at a subtle wisdom that may have come from dealing with big questions and probably pain. There are times I wonder if I want to be a writer. Then I listen to just one Imogen song and think, "Welp, she just said everything I've been trying to articulate."

You would have to listen to this song to really feel it's impact. There's this energy that kind of sits right below the words. It makes me want to run. Forever. Seriously. Last night on the treadmill {at one of the skankiest 24-hour Fitness locations on the planet} I increased my speed to an 8 minute mile when this song started playing. If that doesn't impress you, pretend that it does.

{take a little listen if your heart so desires... }
http://www.last.fm/music/Imogen+Heap/First+Train+Home

Before today, I interpreted the line, "I can't do any of that here, can I?" as being trapped in a physical and geographical location. Today, I have a different response. I feel trapped in that space between the offense and the peace - some might call it bitterness, but to those people I say, "Hey. So, take a long walk down a short pier." I think it might just be part of the healing. But anyways, what do we do in that space? Is there a way to make it go faster? What are the steps to making peace with the past? If only I had a neat little prescription plan, preferably with a time frame. Imogen sings,

{ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nNbTW0lhR1Y}

Where do we go from here, how do we carry on?
I can't get beyond the questions
clambering for the scraps in the shatter of us collapsed
it cuts me with every could have been
pain on pain on play, repeating
with the backup makeshift life in waiting
everybody says time heals everything
but what of the wretched hollow, the endless in-between?
are we just going to wait it out?
...
and sit here cold?
we will be long gone by then and lackluster
in dust we lay around old magazines, florescent lighting sets the scene
for all we could and should be being in the one life that we've got

Exactly. There's got to be some kind of balance between waiting and doing- between simply being present and pushing past intuitive sadness. Where is my responsibility in this waiting period? How do I get on with getting on with things? I can't just sit here and wallow.

This morning I pulled out "My Utmost for His Highest." This is what I read:

{in reference to Romans 8:16}
"'Why does God not reveal Himself to me?' He cannot, it is not that He will not, but He cannot, because you are in the road as long as you won't abandon absolutely to Him. Immediately you do, God witnesses to Himself, He cannot witness to you, but He witness instantly to His own nature in you. If you had the witness before the reality, it would end in sentimental emotion. Immediately you transact on the Redemption, and stop the impertinence of debate, God gives on the witness. As soon as you abandon reasoning and argument, God witnesses to what He has done, and we are amazed at our impertinence in having kept Him waiting."

So, the sovereign God chases us with reckless abandon. He also gives us the dignity of choice, andwaits for our choice to abandon ourselves to His presence. The paradox not only exists, but somehow it functions harmoniously. I am to wait patiently in the process while at the same time do the gut-wrenching work of abandoning absolutely to Him.

and that, my peeps, is all I know to say.