Women in the Shadows

She can't spell, and she can't read, but she can cook and sew.  Her frail voice spoke disappointedly as she explained that she'd been pushed through school at a young age because she didn't learn like the other kids. Her tone changed to longing as she shared a desire to learn how to spell big words.
"I'm a fast learner" she declared, "and I'm a good memorizer.  That's the way I know some words.  And Anna, I taught myself how to crochet doilies by looking at the pictures."

My heart broke.

Her voice cracked on the phone.  She was found wandering in the rain and taken to a psychiatric hospital.  She had no where to go, she was alone, desperately longing to hear a familiar voice.  20 years addicted to heroine, now 20+ years clean.  Her eyes were shining several months before as she shared her story of how God rescued her from addiction - but choices have consequences, and we aren't given the opportunity rewind our story.

Tears began to fall.

She has a record, fair or unfair it's hard to tell, but it'll haunt her for the rest of her life.  Two pet dogs provide sanity as she juggles limited funds, insecure housing and constant scrutiny from every landlord, every application.  Her climbing credit score would now plummet due to unforeseen world events, a lengthened eviction and, as some would say, "plain bad luck."  But she's a fighter and won't give up.  A warm home is a luxury this woman is determined to find for herself.

I dry tears and dig deep into my soul.

These women won't give up.  They won't back down.  Sure, they won't make the history books.  They won't be known by anyone but creditors, social workers and beloved pets.  But these women will strive every day of their lives for a better existence.  An existence combined with failure, poor choices, strength, courage and a remarkable drive to never surrender to defeat.

Oh the lessons I can learn from these women living in the shadows.  Lessons I could learn it I take the time to sit down and listen to their stories, to walk alongside of them.  We learn best when we learn from each other.  When we lay aside differences, opinions and pasts, and listen to understand, to connect, to learn.

Some struggle through poor past decisions, a hard childhood, a string of circumstances I don't understand.  But when I open my eyes to see and my ears to hear, I find remarkable women I'm blessed to know.  And I'm lucky to learn from them.

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.