the backstory.

tucked face-down inside the bottom drawer of the secretary in the guest bedroom — when i saw its shape against the dark wood, i reached in curiously. the gift of rediscovering this little gem brought a knowing smile to my soul. i knew this face well, once upon a time.

i think this was 6th grade. maybe 7th. i was 11 or 12. 1991, ‘92ish. we Lived here in this very house i write from today. i was a capital-n Nerd, but definitely thought i was the coolest ever in that gap v-neck sweater. i probably wore that thing twice a week that entire schoolyear.

seeing this old familiar school photograph dug up a deep well of memories and feelings. true story: i am the Woman i am today because of that tender-hearted girl who had no clue what Life was going to bring.

. . .

it’s hard to face the past sometimes. to remember where and when and what we came from. i could write 14 different stories about the girl in this photo — some that would break your heart, others that would make you laugh. still others that would maybe just sit in the atmosphere somewhere as a lesson to learn along the road of Life. this little girl had fire in her veins, but she didn’t know it yet. she just knew she was different. that she didn’t fit in anywhere. but she still had hope that maybe one day she would.

. . .

thirty years later: i am still very much Living that same story — this comedy turned tragedy turned, hopefully, inspirational autobiography. just, perhaps, a little more aware of the things going on around me.. and of the fire in my soul.

you see. 11 year old annie had yet to taste the allure of rebellion.. the seduction of hedonism. yet even moreso — the overwhelming and reckless abandonment of a God Who relentlessly pursues the hearts of His children. the undeterred Promise of a Loving Creator Father God Who leaves the 99 to save the 1. the transforming power of forgiveness — which one cannot know, at all, until one has acted so unbearably foolishly that one must seek such forgiveness.

oh, how sweet the naivety and innocence of youth, Papa. but oh how much sweeter the height and width and depth of a Life Lived fully — failures and Grace and surrender. the Father Who greets His beloved prodigal at the end of the driveway, sparing no affection or warmth. only Love. only and always Love, Jesus.

. . .

where and when and what we come from are important details in the making of a great story. no reputable author ignores such vital elements when developing characters for their narratives. in fact, the backstory is always where the crux meets the victory. where the hero remembers who they be deep down inside and then, in the very last moment of possible despair— acts like it.

the backstory is the backbone of the hero:

what makes you.. you.

and what makes me… me.

. . .

as it be in this quiet moment on this sunday morning, i feel exposed and vulnerable and terribly unsure of what the future holds. yet i know Who holds the future. therefore Peace is mine as long as i cling to Him. i have a refreshed spring of Hope bubbling up from the deepest part of me matched equally with reverence that feels like terror that feels like faith.

i’m surely not ready to divulge any more specific details of my current life since writing that last blog. to be perfectly clear, my heart is still recovering from that one. like cutting out a piece of my own beating heart and dissecting it into black words on a white screen and praying to God that the Message resonates and heals and helps. even if just one.

but as difficult as i find it to even want to write, i continue to feel compelled, convicted even, to share. to practice diligence in writing about the wonderful things Jesus is doing in my life.

even if it feels like struggle and not being very good at all sometimes.

. . .

so for today — there is no great philosophical quest for me to wrap my thoughts around.. no deep life lesson to share with whomever it be that may stumble upon these words. today. i’m just remembering some parts of me that i had forgotten along the way. ‘maybe even tried to bury, because they made me feel so alienated from the world around me.

i wonder if i’m still her. if she is still me. if i have grown at all in wisdom and Grace. or if, perhaps, she is the person i should be aiming to be: innocent and pure of heart. convinced absolutely in the majesty of Christ. not scared to be bright. but knowing that to belong somewhere, with someone, would be Divine.

. . .

it’s amazing how quickly things can change. all while not really changing at all. as if Time is Love — and the journey is the sum. the points of Living all adding up, with interest, to the Infinite.

my prayer today:
please help me do today well, Jesus — to be the Woman that You Created me to be. i am so grateful for this beautiful Life that You chose for me; i am so thankful to be immersed in Your Love and Your Grace.

teach me how to be the Woman that You Created me to be — for such a time as this. in this season. in this space. in these points of the Living that point me evermore to Agape.

help me to Love You, Papa, like my Life depends on it. because it does. and then help me to Love those around me as You Love those around me — to see Your children as You see them. to Love each person You put on my path with a full extension of Grace.

keep my heart pure before You — yet wise and discerning, Holy Spirit Within. i want only to remain at the center of Your will for my Life.

Thy will be done, Papa; i trust You with it all. help me be a good one. and thankYou for Loving me first.