Anne Marie Miller

Author: Anne Marie Miller

  • perfection confession

    my friend sarah wrote something on her blog yesterday that really resonated in me. those who know me well, know my tendency to lean towards not only excellence, but perfectionism. this manifests itself in so many ways; holding unreachable expectations for myself, and also for others. at its ugliest, it becomes an obsessive quest in which i know there is not a realistic (or pretty) end.

    she writes:

    My perfectionism creates a demand for the unattainable…This perpetuates my self-hate and tendency to isolate – because if I can?t be perfect, no one will accept or love me, of course. Our society demands perfection. Everyone I encounter is “puttin? on airs,” as my dad would say. (Southern for pretending to be something you?re not). Image is everything. I loathe my imperfection. I wish I was pious enough to embrace it as a reminder of the abundant Grace which covers my imperfection. But I can?t claim to be anything of the sort. Imperfection to me spells disaster. On the one hand, I do seek to be transparent in some areas. What an oxymoron. Partially transparent.

    for both sarah and me, a lot of our habits now were formed when we were children by external circumstances. a few glowing moments in my own life:

    1) i got busted in the first grade because i would throw away any schoolwork that was returned to me with less than a 97 on it. i was a straight-a student pretty much my whole academic life, but anything lower than 97 wasn’t good enough. my teacher finally found my 94’s, 90’s, and 96’s in the trash and had a conference with my mother.

    2) until i was in the fourth grade, i sang. i was in school plays. i took lead roles. i was in a bluebell ice cream commercial. i was even in a children’s touring group called “the little texas singers” (we’d wear cowboy hats & red bandanas). my mom would always encourage me to rehearse hours a day. that wasn’t the problem – i loved it! however, simply offering some constructive criticism on my vocal rehearsal, “you’re a little flat there, honey”…i stopped. if i couldn’t be perfect, then what was the point?

    these minor decisions and thought processes i adopted when i was young have formed a full-on issue now. i’ve posted about it a few times (demolition of things not mortar, the power of human need) but i wonder if these feelings are an addiction of some kind. a control issue? definitely a trust issue. lots of fear involved. fear of disappointing. fear of being a disappointment.

    hmmm.

    anyone else feel this pressure?

  • three reasons i’ll fancy your feed

    yin and yang. balance is essential. what makes me ditch your feed was so…yesterday.

    today, a more positive spin: three reasons blogs end up in my google reader. but a confession? most new blogs go into a “just testing” folder…i am totally afraid of commitment.

    anyway…on to the list!

    3. you had me at hello. if i can skim over whatever is on the front page of your blog, read about you, and maybe even put a face with a name in under a minute, more than likely, i’ll spend a couple more minutes exploring. but those first few seconds are essential. what kind of vibe does your blog give off? i’m not saying you have to be a professional graphic designer or writer, but you know what its like to feel something and connect to it.

    2. one of these things is not like the other.     do you have conservative political views? are you an atheist? are you gay? have kids? it’s easy to find people who think like me, who write like me, or work at churches. i lived in a blogging bubble long enough. i love finding people who have nothing in common with me because i simply want to see what it’s like to live in somebody else’s shoes.

    1. interact. again. i can’t stress how important this is. if i leave a comment or email you, will you respond? how do you treat other people who comment on your blog? how do you write about others — when you hat tip someone or disagree?

    respectfully? often?

    good.

    have your say…what turns your RSS reader on?

  • three reasons i’ll ditch your feed

    being sick and homebound since wednesday evening has left me a lot of time to do nothing. i’ve actually been able to read most of the things that come up on my google reader, add a few feeds, as well as remove a few feeds. i’m not one to talk about the “dos and don’ts” of blogging, but since i have some free time, i thought i’d give you three reasons why i’d ditch your feed.

    3. posting a lot of content frequently. posting frequently is one thing. posting a lengthy but well thought out blog is another. posting six novels a day is absurd. i wish i had time to read it, but i don’t. when i have 12 new feeds and 10 are yours and they’re 1000 words a piece, i can promise you i won’t read them.

    2. the polar opposite of number 3. not posting. ten of my feeds haven’t posted content since may. three of those ten haven’t posted since january. sionara.

    1. don’t interact. this is my biggest blogging pet peeve. to me, blogging is interactive. personally, i do my best to send a thank you email to new people who comment on my blog, to interact in the comments, or to write back to comments that are especially witty or interesting and thoughtful.

    i’m not sure what it is, but some people give their blogs the appearance of a discussion format, and then don’t acknowledge or interact with any of the people who comment. if you don’t want to interact, turn off your comments. at least that way it’s somewhat apparent that discussion is not on the forefront of your mind when it comes to blogging.

    not even acknowledging people who comment, or not answering people who ask specific questions is like walking by and ignoring someone who says hi to you on the street. it’s just rude.


    what are reasons you say farewell to feeds? anything i could do better?

  • mmmm, beefy.

    chris told me about this church sign that he saw while driving around yesterday. i begged him to snap me a photo today.

    ummm……? i really don’t know what else to say about that.

    Beefy

    Anyone, anyone?

  • trust is not a four-letter word

    describe:

    trust is not a four-letter word.
    [at least, that is what i keep reminding myself]

    i think you know the place of which i speak.
    the small area
    [approximately the size of a quarter, i’d imagine]
    which rests in the center of your chest:
    between the cages of your ribs
    beneath the muscles and tissues
    of your heart and of your lungs

    this is the place we feel trust
    [or lack thereof]

    at its most intense times
    [when betrayal is fresh]
    the pain and discomfort
    radiate across our entire being

    the tension in the neck
    the pressure on your stomach
    nauseated
    [imagine the tire of a texas-sized truck
    running over your torso
    repeatedly; repeatedly]

    arms folded
    trying to protect the emotional;
    the spiritual;
    the mental;
    using physical means
    survival.

    logical redemption?

    with grace
    and time
    forgiveness chosen
    the once overwhelming
    sensation of suffocation
    retreats back into
    aforementioned quarter-sized area
    and quietly refrains
    from causing disturbances

    emerging and unsuspecting

    hibernation
    by definition
    conserves energy in
    those frigid winter months

    but once the warmth of the sun
    touches the air
    [touches my being]
    instead of spring
    the fear of feeling
    those things that have been
    felt before
    [crushing me before]
    [shredding me before]
    emerge

    questioning this new light
    [or this one? or this one?]
    is real; shining; radiating?

    perhaps another fluorescent clone
    which will project
    a washing out of my skin
    [grey
    lifeless?]

    i find myself
    staying…

    …buried

    still afraid
    and unable to find it.

    [to find trust]

    and as a poetic man
    expressed similarly
    i find truth in his art:

    remember the words
    of someone
    someone I used to know
    love everyone
    but keep them
    far from your soul.

  • well, i never…

    i’ve never ridden in a limo.

    you’ve never __________________?

  • can i get a witness?

    i have slowly been making my way through the nearly 500 page chuck colson book, being the body. yesterday, while battling a bit of a stomach bug and at the same time enjoy the amazing thunderstorm which was ripping through dallas, i sat down with mr. colson’s big green book (and a fat orange cat) and dove back in.

    the topic on this particular day was evangelism. my entire life, i have felt guilty for not being an evangelist. no, not your typical big haired, super-gunked eyelashes, put-me-on-tv-and-send-me-money kind of evangelist, but the one we are always taught to be in sunday school. the one who witnesses to her friends and shares the miraculous story of how she came to christ.

    for one reason, i don’t have some amazing conversion story. i was five years old. finally old enough to sit quietly in a church service with my mom and dad. they had an easter play on sunday, and i had questions. my dad led me to accept christ later that night (and tape recorded it secretly: something i’ll always treasure).

    the second reason is that i’m fairly introverted. especially around people with whom i’m not familiar. when i worked in student ministry, we did a beach evangelism trip. the sole purpose was to go out on beaches and witness to those we encountered. some of the high schoolers were great at it. honestly, i was a big fat chicken and spent most of my time chasing them down or encouraging them (oh, okay, really i spent most of the time sitting on the beach reading, okay? there, i said it.)

    but i still felt so guilty that i just couldn’t go out and witness.

    colson brings out an interesting point in his book; one that had never crossed my mind. whereas some people are given the spiritual gift of evangelism to witness (ephesians 4:11), regardless of your spiritual gifting, we are all called to be witnesses (acts 1:8).

    notice the verb changes? one is to witness. one is to be a witness.

    i am no bible scholar, and at best, i will define this exposition as simple theology, so please forgive any errors. however, i think it is important to note these differences as the line between witnessing and being a witness has seemingly been very cloudy, at least to me.

    the call for all belivers to be a witness is compelling. and how do we become witnesses? by loving. accepting. obeying. you may not be shouting from the rooftops or the street corners, but sometimes the adage silence speaks louder than words is true. as saint francis of assisi so directly stated, “preach the gospel at all times — if necessary, use words.”

  • chris got new glasses

  • blog is back up

    sorry for the absence of my website. the host i use, which is normally insanely reliable, had a few glitches. so, i wanted to let everyone know i am okay.

    i still need to catch up on yesterday’s post, “ask me anything” – so if you wanted to ask but couldn’t get on because of the downtime, please feel free to ask away!