Tangled Curls

Her hands twisted in her lap as she stared at the short curls that frizzed around her wide eyes. Uncertainty was evident.
An 11th grade girl was seated in the salon's beauty seat, a place where she clearly felt out of place.

I'd place her mid-twenties, the second figure in the mirror.
Gorgeous black curls swept up in a stylish mohawk ensured my onlooking eyes; this hairstylist knew exactly what to do.  She was a goddess - reigning secure in her ability to transform the wary figure before her.

She wasn't working magic; merely uncovering the beauty that lay beneath the build-up.

Skilled hands gently combed through the short tangles.  A soft voice asked questions and received answers that probably made her insides curl tighter than the hair in her hands. Curls were her specialty, this was obvious.  Not only did she know how to trim, wash and style them in the salon, but she knew just how they should be cared for on a regular basis.  Little by little she gave tips and insight.  The girl in the chair listened well.  Daily changes would need to take place, new habits formed, and although the appointment wasn't finished yet, she was soaking in every word.

Uneasiness washed away faster than the chemicals that coated each dark strand.  Fear was replaced with confidence.  Her curls needn't be a source of out-of-control confusion, but an expression of individuality.

I sat in the chair next to hers.  My own curls, though very different, had also gone through a transformation in this salon.  My own hair habits had needed change and skilled hands and a kind voice instructed me, only two short years before.

But as I sat, waiting for the red color to seep into my hair I couldn't help but think.

How often is beauty waiting just beneath the surface of a tangled life and poor choices?
Every life is beautiful, every soul in need of love - and a little kindness and patience.

Don't Stop the Tears

I rolled over and buried my face into the pillow.

I told myself I had no reason to cry.  I began a pep talk to myself on how lucky I am and that I should just shrug and be grateful.

And then I felt the presence of Jesus.  I don't pretend to hear God's audible voice.  And I won't try and put words in His mouth.  But my heart sensed His love and my thoughts interpreted them this way...

Anna, it's OK to cry.  Your heart is feeling, the very thing it was made to do.  Your life is good, but let the tears fall.  You want to belong, you want to feel important, you long to be needed and affirmed.  You want your life to have purpose, you desire to just love people and see their lives restored.

But what if Jesus is asking you to come away with Him?  To rest in His enough-ness and His completeness?  To not feel the thrill of your success, but rather the satisfaction of His presence.
What if all He wants from you is your raw and real heart. 

The heart that feels deeply.  The heart that gets confused.  The heart that leaps for joy at the sight of a sunflower or field of wildflowers.  The heart that gets overcome with jealousy and envy.  The heart that longs to please Him, but fails time after time again.  The heart overcast in shame, but also the one that revels in grace.  Yes, the heart that belongs to Anna.

Jesus wants my heart.

I laid there on my bed feeling alone, but it was different now.
All the pretenses, all the striving, all the pride... let the tears carry it all away.

My heart is slowing breaking.

"But a broken and contrite heart He will not despise." Psalm 51

When I am broken, then I am made whole. 
And every time my heart cracks, I pray it looks a little more like Jesus.

Simple Words, Profound Impact

"Anna Beasley?  I thought I saw her right here."

I barely heard these words as I disappeared behind a set piece to check some lights.  My heart was full, trying to live in surrender, trying to press into what was on my heart.  Last thing I really wanted was to small talk with someone... 

"I'm over here. I was just checking lights."  

I stepped out of the shadows and an actor friend came over to me.

"How are you, Anna?"

I took a deep breath.  This was someone who didn't like fake answers and pasted smiles.

"I'm hanging in there today..."  

I leaned forward to give him a hug, but to my surprise he stepped back. I looked up as he placed a hang on my shoulder and looked me square in the eye.

"Anna, you are more than a conquerer through Jesus Christ... I want to you know, God loves you.  And it's going to be more than ok, because of His plan for you."

Tears slipped out and I managed a slight nod.

He gave me a hug, squeezed my hand and walked away.  I went back behind the set piece to let the tears fall a little faster before I had to join my team and work a show.

I will replay those words for the rest of my life.  

And the way in which they were spoken - with conviction, power and love.

How did he know..?
He didn't.  But Jesus knew what my heart needed.
And my friend was faithful to obey.

Never, never underestimate the power of scripture spoken through the Holy Spirit's leading.

Nor the contribution of a full and epic salt and pepper beard - it adds a little extra. 

2 Week Focus Shift

2 weeks without working out?
Nope.
Umm... actually, yes. Oh dear.

Me: "What if I lose everything I've worked so hard for?"
Friend: "What if you gained something even more?"

I decided to switch up my workout routine and make some changes to focus on nutrition and rest.  But before I get busy with my new plan, I am choosing to take two weeks off.
Why?
Because though working out is wonderful, I need to do a mental check.  I've elevated it (and the results) to an unhealthy place.  I need to not base my identity and confidence on getting up at 5am to workout.

I also need some direction for my life, I want a reset and refresh.  So this morning as I was journalling I was about to start writing out everything that I wanted God to show me in my next two weeks of rest.

My pen came to a grinding stop when I felt Jesus completely ditch my idea. Yeah, He likes to do that sort of thing - especially when I begin to tell Him the best way to arrange my life.

Instead of searching for direction, what if I just seek Him.

Seek my Jesus, the person, not the plans.
Search His face to see His face.

He promises that when I seek Him I'll find Him.

To think of not hitting the gym for 14 days, it doesn't make me happy.
To be perfectly honest, I'm not super excited about putting my plans and future on hold to seek Jesus' face. But I suppose this is when I tell my mind what to do. 
I'm used to grinding out the uncomfortable in the gym, pushing through even though my entire body resists.  I don't let my body dictate my workouts, so why should I let my feelings dictate me now?

Here we go. 

Heart Attitude

I am blessed.

I take a look at my life and my heart is thankful.

I have so much.  I grew up with two godly parents who loved each other, modeled a righteous life and provided for my every need.  I had the world at my disposal. I don't know what would have been like to live in poverty, to help parents with rent, to come home from school to an empty house, to not be given a hug at least several times a day.

Yet I complain.  I grumble.  I want more.  I take my comfort for granted.  And though it's hard to say, I find myself judging those who are different then me. A bit prideful, much?  Seeing as though I did nothing to earn any of the above mentioned luxuries.

Jesus, change my heart. 

The last six months have been a journey for me.  A bit painful at times.  Because I've always considered myself loving, understanding, kind and open-minded.  But I was wrong.  Not entirely, but I don't want to stop my heart at "good enough" when it comes to loving people and seeing them as Jesus does.

Everyone has a story.
And it's a beautiful story.

Jesus, open my heart.

I have been praying for practical ways to live differently; to actually enact heart change.  Because for me, it's easy to love people and not seek to understand them.

And Jesus has given me two ways to do this.  Two ways to begin this journey of opening my heart to a new life of love and understanding.  Here they are;

Be a life-long learner.

Seek to be uncomfortable.

I also just want to say, I love this little space.  I writing real.  Writing from my heart.
May Jesus be lifted up and my own heart brought low.

Real Moment

I was encouraged and revived.  Eager to continue the day.  Excited to live my Saturday.

I walked through the doors to my job, pulled off my scarf (cuz it wasn't black), grabbed my gear and headed down to check the deck.

A slight irritation with a coworker, some selfish thoughts and attitudes; just like that my glad heart gave way to resentment, and frustration.  Just one hour from rejoicing in the daily, I was now wanting to shut down and just leave.

I knew something needed to change.  So I crept behind a large set piece, knelt down with my head on my knees and did the only thing I knew to do - talk to my Jesus.

Tears fell, of course.  I unburdened my heart to the One who knew my thoughts already.  I didn't speak thanksgiving, I mumbled and complained.  But I wasn't pretending.  Not anymore. I felt alone.  My close friends on deck, the ones who speak truth and life into my soul, they weren't there anymore.  I was discouraged and I poured this out into my Jesus' ear.

These moments alone, these seconds of realness, I think these are the ones that Jesus longs to be a part of, because they are the real me, the genuine me.  But He doesn't want me to stay there.  I can't be ok with just wallowing in my hard moments.  He's calling me up and out.

So I took a deep breath.  And then another one.  I texted my friend to pray.  I tried to think of a couple things to be grateful for, and found out there were many to speak out loud.  Because if I'm willing to complain verbally, I better be able to give thanks in the same way.

I didn't have a magical transformation.  I had to swallow my pride and have a difficult conversation with the coworker who hurt my feelings, but it was more my fault then his. I had to work three shows while feeling tired and alone.

But Jesus was with me.  His strength was sufficient.  He is who He says He is - praise Jesus for the gospel.  Praise Him that He works through and in my weakness.

The end of my day was much different than the beginning, thanks to the grace of Jesus.

Behind the Curtain

The stage left wing was dark, only the glow of blue work light allowed us to see each others faces.  The house was full and anticipation was high.  Soon, very soon the curtain would fly and the audience would be taken several thousand years back to when Jesus walked this earth.

Bright costumes, stunning sets, awesome effects and mind-blowing technology. Lively music sung by beautiful actors, real truth-scripted scenes performed by our cast; it was all about to go down for a little over 2,000 people.

I took a deep breath and looked around me. 20+ technicians milled about, some in circles talking, others seated on preset scenery, each with a headset and belt pack - the only way we could communicate as we shifted scenes and prepped the wings. Instead of colorful costumes we wore black, to blend in and not be seen.

Then I looked deeper.  We were tired, exhausted.  Two technicians were wearing stabilizing boots after sustaining injuries during the show run last year.  They were both hard working folks that had to take a step back and only do jobs that required little to no physical effort.

We pushed and pulled sets, plugged towers, ensured technology ran smoothly; operated sets and equipment that had potential to be very dangerous if not handled appropriately. We had grown accustomed to our work.  And we were tired.

While the guests were entranced with the lights and story, there was another script, another show unfolding backstage.  And this show was vastly different then the one performed out front.  And for theater that might be ok, but in life - let it not be so.

It often appears that people have it all together.  And let's be real, I like to look like I have it all together.  But the truth is, if you step past the exterior, past the happy smiles and filtered posts, you'll often find a heart that's hurting, a soul that is desperately in need of truth, a mind that is crowded with thoughts, longing for peace.

Why must we hide the hard parts?  Why do we dress up the outside as if everything is ok on the inside? What if we flipped the stage, gave a backstage tour, opened up our lives and hearts?

I can only answer this question in my own heart.  And the answer is hard to type.  But I'm afraid.  Afraid that people will see the 'real me' and move on.  Scared that I'll be defined by my brokenness. Terrified that I'll disappoint, that they won't love me, the real me.  Cautious that if others see my sin, my hurt and my mess, it will seem that God isn't real and that He isn't the powerful God I declare Him to be.

Nothing could be further from the truth.
I am broken.  I am a mess. Praise Jesus for the gospel. I don't revel in my failure, but I do exalt in His grace and wholeness.
(more on this later) 

So I ask myself, and anyone who reads this.
What if we gave a backstage tour, opened our lives and hearts and let people inside?
What if we choose to take a deeper look?  If we peered behind the curtain of the lives around us.
What if we stopped to listen, to learn and to care?

Would people be more likely to fly the curtain if the reaction was one of love?  If they knew that your backstage space was just as messy as theirs?

The outside may beautiful - but may it only be a reflection of what's inside.

When a TV Show Inspires You

I piled another blanket on top of my feet, grabbed my Reeses Peanut Butter Cups, pressed play on the next NCIS episode.  It had been a long day and I was ready to enjoy a favorite show.

The minutes flew by as I found myself oddly involved in this episode.  One of the characters, Jimmy, was on a ledge, trying to talk a stranger out of jumping.  With one hand on a pipe for safety and another on the belt of the jumper, this man stayed for hours on the ledge, trying to save this man.

Life hung in the balance.

Jimmy recounted stories of dark times in his life.  He tried to inspire this young man that life was worth living.  Quoting phrases and sharing stories, he used the impact others made on his own life in order to impact the one beside him.  He used his own darkness to bring light to another.

It's just a tv show, yes, but I'll admit to you, I was crying by the end.  Crying because I know people going through some tough stuff, hard circumstances and difficult relationships.  Crying because I've had people admit they didn't feel like living anymore. Crying because God uses lives to impact lives.

And then Jimmy said this to his new found "friend".

"When you're going through hell, keep on going."

And then I cried a little more.  Because life is hard.  Really hard sometimes. And that's when we need a friend to remind us to keep on going.  Not to give up.  Keep pressing forward. 

To keep going.

And my heart was filled with a little bit of hope.  I have friends in my life who need me to sit beside them, one hand on a pipe for safety and another on their belt.  I can remind them "when you're going through hell, keep on going..." but you won't go alone.  I'm beside you.

But my hand isn't holding on to a physical pipe, my hand is holding on to Jesus.  And instead of coming up with clever phrases and feel-good quotes, I can whisper the living and active Word of God.

Jesus will use you in the life on another.  Just take a deep breathe, wrap your hand around the safety of God and His word and grab the belt of a close friend.  Maybe use words, maybe just be there.  Both will make a difference.

"The LORD is the strength of His people, a fortress of salvation for His anointed one." Psalm 28:8

A Bit of Happy

The season I find myself in often seems difficult.  Hard.  Long.  Pointless.

So a bit of a gratitude pick-me-up is needed.
Right now, today, this moment, in the midst of my mess, what am I grateful for about my Jesus, and then about my life?

His love
it covers me when I least expect it
Nearness in the stillness
He is my Victory
My Provider
My Teacher
and He's Sovereign
----
Cozy naps and soft blankets
Peanut butter
The enthusiastic call of my name from a friend I haven't see in a while
Smiles
Wearing normal clothes (i.e. not wearing black every day)
Laughter

Here's to a Monday full of real life and happy choices. *crosses fingers*

Love Day

“I just hate this holiday.”

My coworker muttered this under his breath to me this evening. 

“Why?” I replied, genuinely curious. 

“People should show love everyday, we shouldn’t need a holiday to show someone we care.”

“Then why do we have birthday gifts and anniversary parties? Why do holidays even exist?”

Maybe because people deserve to be noticed, lives should be remembered and love ought to be celebrated. 

It would be nice to show intentional love everyday. But life is crazy, it’s mundane, it slips by fast and before we know it the people we love the most get caught up in the ordinary, the daily.

So why not have a day to celebrate love? A day to single out the people that we love the most. A day to spoil those we care about. And a day to slow time down by being grateful.

A Hallmark holiday, sure, but after all it’s the heart that matters. We don’t need a holiday to show someone we care, but it helps to be reminded. 

When You Love So Much It Hurts

I care.  I care so much that my heart hurts.
We sit over coffee and I listen.  I try to really listen. To listen with my heart, not just to create a response.
Thoughts and feelings flood my soul.  I lean in.

The coffee mug is now empty, but my heart is full.
The day moves on, but my heart is stuck.

I can't fix it.  I'm helpless.  The problems, these heartaches, they are bigger than my ability.  Because let's be real, I think I can help people, but really it's only Jesus who has power enough to restore and redeem.

Trusting Jesus with the lives of those I love is harder for me than trusting Him with my own life and decisions.

But that's what He is asking me to do.  Trust Him.  Open my hand.  Listen and love and and then lift them to my Jesus.  Pray and pour out my heart to the One who loves them more.

Sometimes I need to lean in and take action.  And then sometimes I need to take a step back and pray.

For a girl who likes to do, to accomplish, to see things happen, to be a changer.  Nothing is harder than doing nothing.

I Begin Again

I took a break.  A year and a half, actually.

But I miss this space. 

I miss writing.  I miss sharing my heart.

I am quite a different girl then when I last wrote words from my heart in this space.  I think that's okay.

I'm not telling anyone I'm back.  Because I don't care anymore if anyone reads these words.  They are for me to express what my Jesus is doing.  It's a creative outlet for me to look back on and reflect.

I'll read these words again, and I want them to be real.  I long to write words that come straight from my heart.  No more fake-ness and pretending.  Not that what I wrote before wasn't real, but Jesus is teaching me lessons that rip my heart open a little wider.  I bleed pride, shame, stubbornness and selfishness out, and He pours grace, love and hope back in.

If I post once, or 100 times, I don't really care.  I just want to write.  I want to put into words the tears that fall weekly, sometimes daily.  The lessons learned and all the lessons that I don't want to learn.  The success and the fails.  And maybe a couple real-life pictures that I'll look back on and just shake my head.

Because this year, I want to Lift Up My Eyes.  And when I gaze into the face of my Savior, sometimes words just come pouring out.