Genuine.

Dear reader,
I, Anna, officially give you permission.

I know, it sounds like  a big deal, but don't be afraid. I honestly think you can do this.

You officially have permission to breathe.

Rest.

To stop. To stop your thoughts, to stop crossing things off your task list, to stop moving.




We need to breathe.


Donald Miller came to my school the other night. One of his key points, to how we should live this life we were given, was that we should know what we want.

We are not to simply acknowledge this, but to embrace it. To find what we want and run full speed ahead until we're holding it, bright and warm in our wind-chapped hands.

We're supposed to run.


Lately I just sit and rock back and forth. You know what I mean. It's like when little kids get overwhelmed sometimes. They just clench their little fists, bring their knees up to their chin and close their eyes. And from there comes a steady rhythm, remedy for the soul.

Right?

I need a better remedy.

I need the rest of the Holy One.


I'm not even going to mention how I attempt to find remedies. I'm not going to mention the countless bites of ice cream and chocolate, cutting things out of the schedule, finally talking to that one guy you hadn't had the guts to yet, or reading one more novel that might have REALLY good advice this time. Or all those times that the point just becomes.. ignored.

Those don't. help. anything.

The fact is, I still can't solve every world problem. I can't even finish my homework half the time and to be honest, at work I get by on severely minimal information. It's just trying to slip by.


So what do I want?


Here was the process of my brainstorm:

1. Truth. That's where my compulsive truth-teller part comes in. I really hate lying. I'm actual quite awful at it. Trying to cover things up is something that never works.. you can always tell by my expressionless stare for the split seconds preceding my response of "uhhm..". Don't lie to me, because once I find out, I'm gonna be mad. And I want to know what all of this is honestly about. All of this experience, all of this pain, all of the emotion, and why every event happens. I know that only God knows. But why not try to understand the most of it that I can.

2. What is real. Truth is just too much. Truth uncovers all the gross baggage that we bury under layers of personalities, spirituality, attempts to make it big time. So maybe I'm just looking for real things. None of this shallowness- none of this Starbucks, shoe shopping, have a suburban house with a doctor, life. That's not bad at all. I just feel that, with my current convictions, that's not the end to be striving for. That just can't be the only thing I want.

3. Genuineness. There it is. That has to be it. I want to know people and to be known. I want to know God and I want to understand that he knows me, I want to know that love. What that love really is. What people really care about. .. Dang.. I thought point three would be the last. I thought that would be the answer. I thought.. there can't be any better description of what I want out of this life.

I don't have any satisfaction in number three.

..None.



I am designed.

I am.. formed out of nothing.

I am made from something somewhat to the likes of a scientific noun of a thing. A something in there somewhere. A- "it's not a real baby yet." (bull crap.)

I am meticulously put together. Sewn into being with thread of idiosyncrasies and doubts, of capacity for knowledge but not complete knowledge, of care for the deep and the shallow, want for the right and for the wrong, confusion, and hope, and desperate longing for trust.

I am here on purpose.

I come from someone.

I am intimately loved and adored.

And you,



You

are intimately loved and adored.


I think, if I reach deep enough. In the robot-self of me. If I use my hands to yank out a chunk of colored copper and plastic, and use my polish-chipped nails to untangle the mass of the hard-wired system of Anna,

if I got down to the tiny life-giving fibers and pick out the little chip of stuff that is what I want..

That want is to know Him who made me.

Him.





No one I have ever known will be as good as Him. As whole as Him. As beautifully self-sacrificing as He is.


So,

if I had to put it simply...

I'd say, you need to seek him.

Because you're not going to believe a word of this until you know yourself.

I guess you need to start running toward him my friend.

Certainly don't take my word for it alone.




This is about you. And Him who loves you more than life.

..Let go and run.




* * * * * * * * * * * * * *




For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, God!