Love is an Action

Defeated and Deflated/Redeemed and Rescued

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 12:54:00 +0000

It's a brand new day, and still I feel defeated and deflated.
There's an open wound in my soul where the disconnect freely flows. There's a place in my heart where my soul asks why.
The pain makes me long to run but my heart knows better.
I'll get far away and the ache will still remain... if I run hard enough, the ache will only worsen.
So what's left to do?
What's left to do but surrender all to you?
I'm incapable, inadequate; it feels impossible.
My anger makes me want to lay blame, my hurt wants to scream your name. Run for cover, be ready for bombs, but I feel compelled to reach with open arms.

How can this be?

I'm taught to respond with anger. I'm taught to kill anyone threatening violence. I'm taught that my biggest priority is me.
Certainly not if I face bombs with open arms.

Internal conflict between what I've been taught and what I know is true consistently, persistently, leads me to You.

There's no way I know how to let go, or lay it all down so I'm here at your feet and I bow, Lord please take it from me when I don't know how
How to let go
How to heal
How to be free

King, redeem me.

Love through me when I think it's impossible.
Live through me when I'm dead at the start.
Love through me when I'm completely incapable.
Live through this broken bleeding aching heart.

Your word promises things
Things that seem naught, but dreams
Things you promise to us

You've made the theme of my life redemption.
That's the word I pursue, the word that flows through my veins, the word that describes the journey of my life.
All made possible by Your unending grace.

Mystery man revealed.

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Sat, 08 Aug 2009 20:17:00 +0000

Who is this Jesus we proclaim?

He's the epitome of selfless sacrificial love.

So, if I'm living my life in pursuit of Him, that changes everything, right?

It's this crazy love that hurts like hell to give because it calls you to die.

It means decisions that feel like death, it means love that gives without taking or asking or expecting.

He says crazy things like, "return good for evil" and "love your enemies."

Yet, how often are His words twisted to become justification for our own selfish causes?

Often, we're willing to "selflessly love" as long as it doesn't require any real sacrifice. Love's grand until it requires giving up luxuries or comforts.

I'm angry.

Why am I - an unmarried 22 year old college student - the only one considering taking in a 16 month old child to keep him from being lost to the foster care system? ...

More importantly, why are there so many more capable, qualified, stable couples who proclaim Jesus that aren't willing to give it a second thought???

If any one of the mega churches in Orlando would take on the issue of homelessness in a serious, selfless way, it'd be solved.

But instead, we go out and put band-aids on a world that's bleeding to death, say we're making a difference, and watch them die.

Instead of bringing them into our homes and giving of ourselves - our time, money, resources, and lives - we look at a dying world and make excuses for why we can't help.

That is not the Jesus I see when I encounter the Gospel.

But that's the Jesus we see throughout this world.

A man who solves your problems, wants you to be happy, and donate to charity - if you can afford it.

In the Gospel - He requires you to give your entire life everyday if you're going to follow Him.

Let's do it, people.

Let's live our lives differently in light of this Gospel we're called to.

This life is worth living when we choose to lay it down.

Love and the many lies we're sold.

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 05:37:00 +0000

My heart longs for a love that sets me free,

A love that enables me.

What I have been sold, however,

is a lie that the only true love

is that which leaves me lost without another.

I found myself wanting to express how much I love him today,

and all the things I wanted to say, I realized I didn't want to mean.

I don't want to be unable to function without him.

I don't want to ever say "I can't live without you."

What I need is a love that only He can give.

What I don't need is a lie that 'alone, I can't live'.

I don't want to live without him, but I can.

I need to be able to survive because my life isn't dependent on him.

Jesus shows me His love in so many ways through this man that I choose to love...

this man who sets me free with the love he so generously gives to me.

I haven't deserved the Love I've been given for one single solitary moment, but it's a gift I've gotten nonetheless; it's a truth with which I've been undoubtedly blessed.

Love is meant to be this sacrificial, selfless lifestyle.

It's not a feeling, it's not even an action, it's a conscious daily choice, a way of life that's always laying down...

It's serving and dying and giving and losing...

It's freeing and empowering, encouraging and hugging...

It's listening and redeeming, releasing and embracing...

It's knowing that no matter what,

We will always be inadequate;

It's knowing that we can't lay down,

but for the grace of His crown.

(anything at all, no matter how big or infinitely small)

It's saying I love you, and you need to know I'm nothing.

I'm nothing without Him, even when I say I love you, know I will fail.

Know that the only times I even come close are when I am nothing...

Because that's when He's working through me,

and when I try of my own strength, I will inevitably fail.

I love you. (I will always fail).

I am nothing, therefore completely incapable of loving you.

BUT -

He has chosen [for some strange reason completely unbeknownst to me]

to love you through these hands of mine,

through this heart of mine,

I promise to pray

everyday

to let it always only ever be

His grace and love

flowing

through me.

disappointment follows my lack of follow through

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 20:51:00 +0000

All day long I did not write

my thoughts

my dreams

trapped

inside my mind

only

to escape

to be lost forever.

Commandment number one.

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 15:16:00 +0000

Embracing the kingdom means rejecting the empire.

Jesus brilliantly selflessly sacrificially loved the people around Him.

He fought the empire with love.

Rome was the idol then.

America is the idol now.

This holiday is supposed to represent freedom.

This country is often branded as symbolic of peace.

This is no holy day.

This is not a country of peace, but of selfish wars.

I understand the appreciation for the privileges of being an American.

I understand the defense of those we love giving their lives to serve our country.

I know we're called to sacrifice our lives only in service to His glory...

As opposed to attempts to gain a freedom we've already been given.

He has already set us free but we're proud...

We puff out our chests and 'fight like real men' for a freedom that we choose not to see that's already ours.

I do not take lightly the loss of human life and I mean no disrespect in that way in stating my opposition to this 'holiday', to this country...

In fact, that's my point:

Human life is sacred and of value to Him, and I do not take it lightly when human life is taken unnecessarily.

What I do not understand is how anyone that claims to passionately, selflessly follow Christ can proclaim that they're proud to be an American.

(( When everything America stands for and proves to be is in complete opposition of everything the Gospels calls us to. ))

Remove

Lee Anne Rankin : when I wanted to post something negative about America and this silly holiday, John asked that I post something positive instead. So... Jesus has the power to redeem the hearts of this wicked, selfish, destructive nation. We are free because He laid down His life for us to be redeemed; for us to be set free. We are His.

about an hour ago · Comment · Like

Jane Doe at 11:21 on 04 July

What about this holiday is silly, Lee Anne?

Lee Anne Rankin at 11:23 on 04 July

Embracing His kingdom means rejecting this empire.

Jane Doe at 11:26 on 04 July

I think sometime when we get a chance I would like to hear your thoughts. You always seem to have some very interesting comments that I wouln't have thought of. And I don't mean that condescending.

Lee Anne Rankin at 11:28 on 04 July

I would love to talk with you and share my thoughts and my heart on what it means to follow Jesus.
In the meantime, good reading for better understanding: Jesus for President (on this topic).

John Doe at 11:33 on 04 July

This holiday isn't about politics, Lee Anne, but about the freedom that you enjoy as a result of a war for independance that was fought over 200 years ago. Honor those soldiers and servicemen who still stand watch over that freedom by celebrating this holiday with a glad heart.

Lee Anne Rankin at 11:44 on 04 July

I understand.
I choose instead to celebrate the actual freedom I have as a result of a sacrifice that was made more than 2000 years ago.

Just to clarify: I don't take the sacrifice of human life lightly, but that's my point.
We've already got freedom if we embrace His sacrifice, and giving lives for America is reaching for a false sense of freedom.

Also: good reading for Biblical support and and eye opening comparison of America to ancient Rome: "Jesus for President" by Shane Claiborne.

Jane Doe at 11:49 on 04 July

But what kind of freedom to embrace His sacrifice and be able to celebrate the freedom Jesus gave us by dying on the cross would you have without the freedom we as a Americans and the Armed Forces have fought for so long to give you? Iraq? Iran? Cuba?

Its those very lives and sacrifices that have given you that freedom to worship freely

Lee Anne Rankin at 12:02 on 04 July

We should definitely talk.

Please know that my heart in this is only to embrace His truth and what I know of what He has asked of us.

We are called to live love.

Please know I do not mean to hurt you, or like I told John Doe, to imply that I take human sacrifice lightly...

In college, I learn... Nothing.

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 14:39:00 +0000

This education I've been getting is bogus.

How am I to improve if I'm not given correction?

How am I to learn if I submit an assignment, exam, etc., only to get a grade back?

I have no way of knowing what I got wrong, or what the right answer is so I can move forward with a better understanding of the subject matter.

This is probably one of many reasons I despise college.

I at least need to see what my wrong answers were... why points were deducted from the paper I wrote...

Otherwise, I just put forth effort and learn nothing.

ReDefine

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 03:59:00 +0000

What words are in your vocabulary that ought to be verbs?

The one that comes to mind most frequently for me is love.

As I was writing a letter to Jesus this morning...

(And before you think I'm being braggy, let me just tell you... it's the first in too long a while.)

Anyway, as I was writing a letter to Jesus this morning I wrote a very incomplete sentence. It was lacking a verb...

As I reread it, I realized this, and almost crossed the sentence out...
(Because, of course, Jesus won't understand what I mean unless it's at least close to proper grammar).

Just then, I realized, as with everything else in my life, my vocabulary needs to be redefined.

Simple words that have been outside your being for as long as you've known, that come to life and become part of you, shift the way you think and view the world...

What if beauty ceases to be a thing to be observed and is rather, a thing to be lived; a thing to be experienced?

What if love ceases to be something you have, and begins to be something you live?

The way you see the world changes.

When the world around you changes, you can't help but begin to make changes, yourself, to the world around you.

Take a look at what's around you today, and see what you can redefine, what you take advantage of as something stationary, outside yourself...

Then, ask Him to redefine it.

I guarantee He has a better definition than any we know or could ever imagine.

Thoughts regarding Plato's Cave.

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 03:57:00 +0000

In my current Humanities class, we read about Plato's "Allegory of the Cave." These people are chained in a cave for years and years, and all they can see of the world is shadows cast on the wall from a world that's behind them...

Here are my thoughts on the subject: (a paper I had to write for the class that asked for my thoughts on various topics, I chose this one. 400 word maximum.).

I imagine these central characters, imprisoned in a cave only able to see shadows of reality, would be amazed, in shock and awe at the wonders they would discover upon seeing Beauty for the first time as opposed to its mere shadow. With knowledge comes great responsibility, and once one has crossed over into knowledge, as opposed to imprisoned ignorance, one cannot ever go back; everything is forever changed. Such an experience is the epitome of paradigm shifts.

I had just such an experience in 2007 when I chose to take a break from my education in Marketing and travel to Africa to live, doing humanitarian work for six months. I was completely unaware of my passions in life and only pursuing what I knew could make me money and get me closer to the ‘American Dream’ lifestyle that I so desired. As I looked out the airplane window over Africa, I had a sinking feeling that my world was about to radically change. Every reality I’d ever known was challenged, in what is valued and sought after as a worldly American. I saw hurt and poverty that I could never have imagined. All of the things I’d been pursuing, all the things I’d been taught by our culture began to seem completely meaningless. Once I returned to America at the end of 2007, I had so much shock to overcome that it was overwhelming. My life in America suddenly felt meaningless as well. I knew I didn’t care about money anymore, I couldn’t pretend that possessions mattered for a moment longer. Several months later I discovered my passions and have begun pursuing those, as I started a nonprofit that works with the homeless and began writing their stories to raise awareness and hopefully change lives.

My heart was devastated by the things I saw and experienced during my time in Africa, my education was postponed which effected my long term plans significantly, relationships I had at the time were hurt by my absence, and it cost me a lot. However, there hasn’t been a moment since that I’ve regretted my decision to go and moreover, the effects it has had on my life as well as the newfound worldview that has forever changed the way I live. I don’t for a moment believe that ignorance is bliss even though knowledge creates huge responsibility.

Choosing Love

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Sat, 09 May 2009 18:06:00 +0000

I've spent the last month choosing to do the right thing, the hard way, everyday.

I've been having awkward conversations with people so as to approach a certain situation the best, most loving way.

(Not that I'm always successful. I screw up. But I'm committed to doing the right thing.)

This effects everything.

This morning, I spent quite a bit of time telling a friend that there's nothing he could ever do to make me love him any less. I was hoping that he'd understand how much he's loved and begin to let us be real friends for hard things, not just the easy stuff.

It's incredible to choose to love someone no matter what.

It's painful. It's difficult.

It's redemptive.

I don't think I deserve love most days.

Sometimes that makes me push away the people who try to love me most.

Those are the days I need the most love.

It's not easy. I'm not easy to love.

I know that.

But, it's about choosing to love me anyway.

It's about choosing to fight me in order to love me sometimes.

It's about telling me that I matter enough for you to fight for.

There's this awesome person in my life... He's been there for quite awhile now, and he's played a big part in how I experience Jesus because he's shown me such unconditional love.

I've been really honest about life with him. I've let him in to my life.

He's seen and known my heart.

This afternoon, he told me that he's tired of fighting to be close to me.

It's not easy enough. I'm not worth the fight.

Maybe this isn't what he meant, but it is surely what he communicated.

As if the words that preceded those didn't cut deep enough, he said if I'm going to be so difficult to love, we can just part ways.

Hurt people hurt people.

I know. I've known.

You were supposed to love me better.

Do I get grace?

Unconditional love?

Here's the hard part:

I'm devastated by this conversation I had.

I'm tempted to let my hurt build and disconnect from him completely... but isn't this just what I'm asking?

If I'm so hurt because he's mentioned the possibility of giving up, do I then give up also, or do I push and fight to love him?

Love is an action.

Love is a lifestyle.

Love is a choice.

Love is a need.

"Let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth."

Love is an action.

Nobody ever said it was going to be easy.

It's simple to choose love, though.

Love wins.

Mark's gonna be free

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Fri, 08 May 2009 02:51:00 +0000

Meet Mark.

Mark may very well be the sweetest man I've ever met. (He's also the most photogenic.)
Every time I see him, he greets me with a huge smile, a big hug, and a kiss on the cheek.

I notice when he's not around. It brings me joy each time I see him. I look forward to talking with him.

Last month, Mark gave me a hug, not unusual, but this hug changed everything. He smelled so strongly of alcohol that I held my breath, then I did something that I don't normally do.

I told him.

"Mark, you reek of alcohol."
"I always smell like alcohol." He said.
"I know, but I keep hoping someday I'll hug you & you won't anymore."
"You can't just accept me how I am?" He said, getting angry.
"Mark, I love you. I love you just the way you are, and if you never change, I'll never love you any less. I love you, and that means I have to push you to do better."

He wasn't hearing me completely, then finally it clicked. If I love him, I want what's best for him, and this life clearly isn't.

"You're an amazing woman." He said, and he leaned down and kissed my forehead as he turned and walked away, waving goodbye over his shoulder.

Later that week, I was talking with Sean who works at the church that provides food for the Nomsa community dinners I'm involved with each week. Sean told me that he and his wife have been praying for Mark and telling him the same kinds of things I have.

What's especially important about what they've been telling him is that he can be free from his addiction to alcohol.

Mark and I have had several very similar conversations in the last few weeks. I love him. I can only love him because Jesus loved me, I could never have done it before.

Last week, Sean gave his testimony to all the folks who stuck around for worship & Bible study, because our normal 'preacher' couldn't make it. Sean told of his own struggles and how Jesus set him free.

Sean talked about a program at his church called "Celebrate Recovery" and said he'd make sure anyone and everyone that wanted to go would get a ride, so that they too can overcome their addictions, hurts, and embrace freedom.

After Sean was done speaking, I walked over to Mark and patted his round belly,

"So, Mark, are you gonna go with Sean to Celebrate Recovery?" I said, only joking, but hopeful.
"That's what I'm waiting to talk to Sean about right now." He said.

My eyes filled with tears, I jumped up and down, letting out a little scream and I stood on my tip-toes to hug his neck, his beard scratching my face.

I asked him if I could wait with him so we could tell Sean, and I went to get Sean's wife so we could all be together.

A small victory. (Or so I thought.)

Tomorrow, Mark checks into rehab.
(Rehab is not part of the Celebrate Recovery process. CR is like Christian AA).

It's a tough, long road he's beginning to walk, but he's committing to the hard road, and that's more than I'd expected and the beginning of what I'd hoped for.

(Me & Mark tonight, this is his "Before" picture).

He's hardworking. He's passionate. He's giving. He's kind.

He's addicted. He's captive. He's broken.

& ...

He's going to be free.

Meet Ginger & Hunter

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Fri, 08 May 2009 02:05:00 +0000

Tonight I watched a young homeless mother open her heart as she let one of our Nomsa volunteers feed her precious baby boy. I watched as this volunteer had a smile across her face that was so beautiful, I had to stop and take a picture.

(Volunteer: Ginger, with homeless baby boy, Hunter)

Nothing brings my heart more joy than when I see Jesus pouring out - when I see Jesus shining through - a broken person.

(We're all broken, just in case you were wondering.)

At the end of the night this beautiful woman, who's so passionate about serving Jesus and being His love, came up to me:

"Lee Anne, I was given a [gas station] gift card for helping out at the church, and [this mother with her two children and friend] need just one tank of gas to get to Deltona, where they will be stable again... Do you think I could use my gas card to get them home?"
"Of course that's okay." I said, smiling.

Her eyes filled with tears and she smiled from her heart and told me a story about a baby with the same name as this one she'd met tonight that was in her life previously. A baby that Jesus used her to love.

He's using her again.

I've never been more excited about the things He's doing through the hands of these broken people that surround me, the things He's doing through Nomsa.

He's truly amazing, in case you were wondering.

Darkness Becomes Day

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Fri, 08 May 2009 01:43:00 +0000

"I woke up and wished that I was dead.

With an achin' in my head, I lay motionless in bed...

... and the world spins madly on."

-"The World Spins Madly On" by The Weepies

I woke up this morning and begged the morning light to stay away.

I begged the day to leave me be, let me alone in my illness & misery.

Nonetheless, I have too much to do.

Work, work, work, then the fun part. Nomsa had a community dinner tonight. We have a community dinner every Thursday night, but there was something special about tonight.

Maybe it's because I delegated all responsibilities and gave myself the opportunity to really talk with people. Maybe it's because I chose to go when everything in me screamed to stay home in bed.

Whatever reason, I'm so glad.

Joy filled my heart as the evening carried on.

I get to do what I love, more than anything. I get to live my passion every day.

I get to do life with people that I love, people that love me. I get faced with incredible challenges that I get to see Jesus overcome.

I get to see people healed and redeemed.

I get to see people experience love... sometimes for the first time in their lives.

There's nothing I'd rather be doing.

There's nowhere else I'd rather be.

Sick and aching, my heart is singing.

Broken and healing, my life is full of joy.

Thank you, Jesus, for healing my heart the way you do.

Thank you, King, for setting me free.

Thank you, Holy Spirit, for igniting my passions.

Thank you, Yahweh, for giving me vision.

Thank you, Lord, for being my Provider.

"Even the darkness is not dark to you;

the night is as bright as the day,

for darkness is light with you."

- Psalm 139:12

He keeps shining, through it all.

(My sweet, sweet, precious friends: Travis & Ed.)

Meet Dennis

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 04:01:00 +0000

I'd like to introduce you to someone who broke my heart today.

I won't tell you his real name; I don't know it.

Meet Dennis.

Pastor John is talking about Jesus. There's this man sitting beside me; this man who I've met several times, this man who never remembers my name.

John says something about the way he used to be, and the way he is now. He's speaking truth, he's opening his heart, and he's sharing Jesus.

This man sits beside me, and all I hear coming from his mouth is, "I hate Jesus Christ."

Pastor John chose tonight to be a night with time for volunteers to share their personal stories with a homeless friend, pushing them out of their shells, and into honest conversations that lead to restoration in the lives of these precious people (homed or not).

Did he just say what I think? He hates Jesus? Hates. Really?

John calls all the volunteers to stand so they can find folks to talk with, and I look to make sure everyone gets connected with someone, and the only person left is this man who hates Jesus.

I'm the only volunteer left.

Here goes.

Raped at age eight by an uncle, he's fathered more than ten children.

He shot his own brother in both of his knees so he couldn't walk, as he and six friends beat him to death.

He's spent more than ten years in jail, for different crimes.

He is only 34 years old.

He has scars to prove the stories he tells. Chunks of skin are missing from his back, some that have been grafted to the back of his skull because he was beaten by police officers during an arrest in Las Vegas for selling heroine.

I asked him what the hardest thing in his life is.

He told me, without hesitation, it's his addiction to heroine.

Dennis told me that Dennis isn't his real name.

He hates his real name.

He hates it because he's named after this gang leader uncle of his.

Dennis' uncle (not the one who abused him as a child, but another of his) was a huge leader in the 'Crips' gang. Dennis learned the way of the streets when he was very young.

He hates.

Oh, the hate radiates from his words, from his eyes, from his heart.

Oh, how he needs love.

He talked to me about his addictions, and I told him what it is to be free.

He said I know nothing of drugs or addiction.

"How old are you?"

"Dennis, I'm 21."

I think this may be the twentieth time I've told him that.

He couldn't tell you my name, but he now knows my story.

I told him about the dark shadows in my past, and the holes left in my heart by them.

Then I told him about the freedom I have now.

Freedom.

I told him I have freedom.

And I do.

Dennis' son was murdered. He was shot, and the man who killed him is being released from jail soon. Dennis anxiously awaits his release, so as to get revenge.

I listened to Dennis share his story for so long tonight, just pouring out this ache inside him.

Oh, how he wants to be known. He aches to be loved, to be free, and you can see it.

It's almost tangible how much he needs community, how much he needs Redemption & Truth.

I asked Dennis why he murdered his brother.

Silence.

"Dennis?"

He nods.

"I don't know... But I know I'd do it again."

Reaching in his pocket, he says,

"Would you like to see what my brother looks like?"
"Yes, Dennis, very much."

I look down at the ground, with every ounce of strength I have I try to keep tears from escaping my eyes.

"Look at me," he says, "he was my twin. He looked just like me."

Oh, Dennis.

Can I reach out to you? Will you hear my heart? Can your heart still hear?

I know there's hope.

"Will you tell me their names?" He asks.
"Whose names?" I respond.
"The men who did that to you, I want to kill them."

Oh, Lord. Tell me what to say.

"Dennis, I've forgiven them. It's hard. It's so hard. I hated them. Dennis, I killed them a dozen times in my heart. I saw it in my mind, and I did it, over and over. Do you know who that hurt? Do you know who that burdened? Me. It didn't affect them at all. Grace, Dennis. It's set me free. I forgave them."
"They don't deserve to be forgiven. I want to know their names."

Dennis says, raising his voice.

"No, Dennis, they don't. Not at all. But neither do I. I don't deserve to be forgiven for the awful things I've done, but whether I deserve it or not... In fact, whether I accept it or not, I've already been forgiven."
"I don't deserve it." He says, matter-of-factly.
"Nope. But again, you already have been."
"I'd kill him again... What's your name again?"
"Lee Anne."
"I'd kill him again, Lee Anne, in a heartbeat. I don't deserve to be forgiven, and I won't be. I'll burn in hell just like my mother said I would."

Silence.

"I love you, Dennis."
"You don't know me."
"I don't need to. I love you because.."
"Because why? Because of Jesus?"

I nod.

"I hate Jesus."

After nearly an hour of conversation like this, diving into the both of our stories, and my desperate attempts to share with him the way that grace has been poured into my life and what that's done to cause me to have grace with people in my life... After a dozen or more interruptions asking about blankets, breakfasts, the Homeless Challenge, bus passes, etc...

Dennis asked me my name again, hugged my neck, and said goodnight.

Not for the Faint of Heart

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 03:18:00 +0000

A story that I wrote in October 2008.

"Ice"

A ridiculous rap song plays just loud enough to keep me from being able to think at all. I flip the visor down and check my reflection once more. My eyes aren’t too bloodshot. I’m sure no one would notice anyway, they will probably all have bloodshot eyes themselves. My boyfriend, Tucker, turns up the music to be certain his system is heard as his car approaches our destination for the evening – James’ party. James’ parents are out of town, of course. In their absence, James has turned their huge house into the only place to be.

We step out of the car and the chill of the evening takes me by surprise. Taking notice of my shiver, Tucker offers me his oversized sweatshirt. I pull it over my head with a big smile and shove my hands deep in the front pocket. I’m already buzzing from the few hits I had of the joint before we left his house. I probably won’t smoke anymore tonight.

Someone said they’d have other drugs at this party. I hope that’s not true. No, it can’t be. Tuck wouldn’t bring me anywhere like that, right?

My thoughts are interrupted by a drunk guy, offering me a drink, and I wonder if he even knows my name. Girls I’ve never met scream in delight as I walk in the room and they rush to hug me, ‘Oh my god, how are you?’ asks one. ‘I had no idea you were going to be here!’ says another.

“That’s James,” another girl says, whispering in my ear and pointing to the drunk guy, “if you don’t let him get you a drink, I will. He’s loaded. Look at this house. Not to mention, he is so hot. Jump on that.” The other two chime in, “he’s so hot, seriously.”

Smiling in his direction, I agree to accept a drink and he brings back something so fruity I can’t even taste alcohol.

I’m fresh out of a very conservative Christian school – about 3 months now – I know nothing of drugs or booze except for the few encounters with weed I’ve had in the past couple of weeks. I don’t know that ecstasy is the reason for the girl infatuated with playing with my hair, and other girls with glow sticks in the kitchen. I don’t know not to accept a cup that someone else made me. I don’t know much about any of this scene, really.

I’m bored with this room, these giggly girls, and intrusive guys. I should find Tucker. I think someone said he was outside for a smoke. Sure enough, through the sliding glass door, I see his back and then I see smoke creep slowly from his silhouette.

I open the door and grin, “Tuck, Aren’t ya cold?”

As he turns around, I expect to see a cigarette in his hands, a joint, or maybe even a bong. I’m taken aback when he does turn at the revelation of what he is holding: a light bulb in one hand, and a lighter in the other.

What is that? Can I even ask what it is? They will all think I’m so stupid. They probably already think I’m already lame. I am the youngest one here, after all. Well, I’m not doing it, whatever it is.

“Umm, Tucker, can I please talk to you?” I ask, frantically trying to keep my cool.

“Sure, baby, let’s go inside,” He says, reassuringly, as he hands off the paraphernalia to one of several guys who haven’t taken their eyes off of it.

He knows what I’m going to ask. He has to know. He knows my innocence. His friends have already made fun of him because I won’t sleep with him. They call me prude. I don’t care.

“Look, it’s not a big deal we were just… ”

“Stop it. Spare me. What was that?!”

“It was ice. Seriously, babe, it’s not a big deal. Everyone does it.”

“I don’t do it, Tucker. Neither should you. What is ice, anyway?”

“Crystal meth.” He laughs. Then smiling at me, tries to recover “I love how you don’t know these things, it’s so cute.” He says, wrapping his arms around me.

“I’m starting to not feel well. I just want to go home, Tuck.”

“Ok, I’ll take you now. Let me just find my keys and cigarettes.”

“No. You’re not driving me anywhere… I just watched you smoke out of a light bulb. A light bulb. This shit is insane. I’ll stay put for a while. Thanks.” Sarcastic, angry, and bitter, I roll my eyes at him and leave the room in search of any familiar face.

My stomach hasn’t stopped tying itself in knots since I got here. But something else is starting to come over me. I’m so hot all of a sudden. My hands feel so cold and I touch them to my face in an attempt to test for a fever, but my face is so hot that it feels as if it’s burning my fingers. I feel like I’m on fire. Just as I near the stairs, I see James in a bedroom to my left. He’s alone. He sees me and calls for me.

“I don’t feel well. I’ve never been so hot in my life. I think I need to go home.”

“Here… Lie down in here and no one will bother you, I’ll go out and you can change and lie down. It’s my house, don’t worry. You’ll be fine, and in a few hours, or even in the morning, once there are some sober people around here you can get a ride home. Okay?”

I don’t care to respond to what he’s saying, I just start taking off the sweatshirt that was suffocating me. He quickly leaves and closes the door behind him. I want to shout thanks, but I’m too tired.

How am I so tired all of a sudden? It’s like I can’t even get my body to respond to what I’m telling it to do…

Before I can begin to think about even turning off the lights, I’m out.

When it feels as though I’ve just fallen asleep, I wake to an unfamiliar pain. I try to scream, but I can’t. I can’t speak at all.

The room is dark but for the faint light shining under the door, and all is silent but for the thoughts screaming in my head.

What is going on? Where am I? I can’t remember. Why can’t I remember? I have to get up. I’m so tired, though. What is that pain? Why can’t I move? Come on, leg, MOVE! Just make it to the door and you can find someone to help you. Tell you where you are, take you home. Something. Just get up.

Trying desperately to focus my eyes on anything in the room, I can make out that I’m in a bed. But whose? Where? Tucker. I was at Tucker’s. But wait… then we were in the car. Where did we go? What day is it? Is it morning? I’m in a bed. I’m not alone. I’m overwhelmed with a strange pain that I can’t explain. Oh, god. Make it stop.

Suddenly everything goes black and I can feel my breathing slow as I drift off to sleep again.

I wake as the morning sun fills the room in what I am convinced is an attempt to blind me. The light pours in through a window facing the bed. I stretch my arms and legs only to realize that my whole body is sore, and reality floods my mind and body the same way the morning sun fills this room now. Sitting up as quickly as I can, I see that I’m alone, and my clothes are on the floor next to the bed. I’m at James’ house. I can see Tucker’s car out the window. I’m glad he stayed. I’m certain he will take me home. I dress quickly and find my way to the main room where several people are passed out on couches and on the floor.

“Pssst, Tucker.” I whisper, trying not to wake anyone else. “Wake up, take me home. Please.”

Groaning, he stretches his arms, rubs his eyes, and reaches in his pocket to check for the keys.

“Please, Tuck, let’s go already.”

“God, give me a minute, wouldya?”

We walk in silence to the car, a silence that accompanies us all the way to my house. I’m still just trying desperately to sort out details in my mind.

What actually happened last night? Was I dreaming? But a dream that left me so sore? I remember waking up and knowing I was not alone. I felt someone else. I heard him, smelled him. It wasn’t Tucker. I know his smell. Not to mention, he’d never do that to me. And I’m pretty sure I screamed. I screamed, right? Shit. How could I get myself into this? What if…? Oh god. This can not be happening.

As things become more clear in my mind, my eyes fill with tears and Tucker takes my hand.

“What’s wrong? Is it because I smoked that stuff last night? I won’t do it anymore. I won’t do it ever again. I promise. Okay?”

“It’s not that, Tuck.”

“Then… Why are you so upset? Where did you go last night? I thought you’d left me alone at that party.”

“Unlock the doors, let me out. I just need to go home. I’ll call you later or something, okay?” I say, grabbing my phone and getting out of the car, not the least bit concerned with whether or not it’s actually okay.

“Would you just tell me what happened, please?”

There’s a concern in his voice that I’ve never heard before, as there should be. But I can’t talk about it now. I can’t even think about it. I just want to go home.

“Something just terrible, Tucker. Terrible.”

Free

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 05:33:00 +0000

Sometimes I forget that I just need to fall flat on my face.

Break completely before I can be fixed.

I've ached and begged, cried out in desperation.
Nothing has worked.

Maybe it hasn't worked now;

but it's never felt more real.

It's never seemed closer.

Thank you, Lord, for giving me strength.

Thank you, Precious King, for opening my eyes.

I'm beginning to feel free.

Free.

A word I've ached to use to describe me.

Soon. So soon.

Hello, goodbye.

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 17:02:00 +0000

Hello life,

Can I take a break today?

Just take this ache away.

Hello love,

I'm terrified of you.

I've never felt this way.

I'm terrified I'll never feel it again.

I'm more terrified that you'll never love me -

Love me the way I ache to be loved.

Hello me,

Maybe your fear isn't that no one will or could ever love you.

Maybe your fear is that no one will love the way you ache for them to.

Hello heart,

Please stop aching so.

I beg you, just let go.

Hello reality,

Can't you leave me be?

Let me live without misery.

Hello hope,

My distant friend.

Hello Life,

I hear, I know;

"Just let go."

I do not know how;

Just take it, now.

((LORD:))

Take this life when I don't have the strength to give it;

When I don't know how to just let go.

Africa takes the cake

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 14:59:00 +0000

Today, I dreamed of Africa.

I closed my eyes and remembered.

I felt the embrace of love and beauty;

Saw their faces, heard their voices.

I breathed in the scent of simplicity.

I closed my eyes and remembered.

I felt the cool night air,

I saw the stars shooting across the sky.

I felt the whisper of Your love.

Today, I wished for Africa.

I wondered if life will ever be so good.

Great as it was, full as it was.

Never have I been so alive.

Will I ever be again?

intense emotion overwhelms; escapes

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 03:36:00 +0000

Hello, dream.

Hello, love.

Hello, hope.

You'd like me to run away?

Embrace a new day?

Say goodbye to all I know?

Let it all go?

Leave it behind....

New me, new day.

New me, new name.

New me, not the same.

Let me go.

Run free, say goodbye; to misery.

Mystery of all mysteries... Let me be away.

Run until I can not breathe.

Breathe in the new air;

Expel the old.

Would any one notice in one month?

Would they all have forgotten my name?

Dream, you do taunt me so.

Torture me with my fears,

Tease me with my secrets.

Lose me with your hope that freedom exists.

I do not understand.

Worth.

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 03:15:00 +0000

I need you so much because I'm broken enough [strong enough] to know that I can't do it alone.

I want to be rescued.

I want to be set free.

I want to be pursued.

Chase after me.

I'm running; I...

I'm aching; I...

I'm dying.

You.

Take; break; ache; lose.

Give; live; love; gain.

Seek me, find me, know me, choose me, love me.

Know me.

You lose me if you don't.

I lose me if you don't.

Time to give up; time to embrace pain.

Letting go, losing life seems a gain.

I'm not worth it.

I'm not worth the fight. I'm not worth the chase.

I need too much; I want too much.

I, am not enough.

I'm not worth it.

I'm not worth the effort. I'm not worth the sacrifice.

I ache too much; I push too much.

I, am not enough.

You're worth it all.

You're worth everything. You're worth my life.

You're enough; you're more than could ever be.

You, are all there is.

You're worth it all.

You're worth my fight. You're worth my ache.

You give love; you give life.

You, are all I want.

I never was.

I am not.

I never will be.

To go back to where I was would just be wrong; I'm Pressing On.../We're going to make it after all.

noreply@blogger.com (Lee Anne) — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 05:19:00 +0000

Sometimes you must say goodbye to familiar places in order to move into the new.