As you read this, Tim and I are off to the Philippines. We’ll arrive around 10pm on Thursday, Philippines time, which is around 9am Thursday morning, CST.
We’d like to thank you for your support with this little video and ask for your prayers as we get adjusted. We’ll update as soon as we can!
Much love,
Anne
[youtube]http://youtu.be/YMyoO0CmmSA[/youtube]
I pulled on the chain for my hotel window’s curtain, a small part of me hoping to see sunlight filling my room as the shade lifted. Nothing is more perfect than a sunny, autumn day in New York City.
With each tug, my room didn’t brighten. The puddles that were forming in the parking lot three stories down confirmed the weatherman on Channel 2 was accurate in the previous night’s forecast.
Rain.
Rain is not the end of the world. In fact, I kind of enjoy it. The water gives life to the plants, the animals, the forgotten. It washes away soot and smog and carries it to the sewer grates. It promises something new.
As often as I travel, of course I come prepared for rain; the word prepared meaning, “I know there is a small shop in the train station that sells umbrellas for $3, so if it rains, I’ll be okay.” Off to the shop I went. $3 umbrella purchased. Train boarded.
Forty five minutes later as I walk up the stairs from Penn Station to the streets of Manhattan, I open my new-found friend, the umbrella. What occurred in front of me was almost magical, the unnatural becoming natural. As my umbrella popped open to shield me from the pelting rain, so did umbrellas from the hundreds of people around me as they marched out of the undergrounds and into the street.
$3 umbrellas are black, but true New Yorkers carry umbrellas with style. Reds, yellows, green with white stripes, polka dots, pinks…one by one the umbrellas arched up and bloomed like flowers after a spring rain, each one taking a different shape, brightness, and place on the vertical landscape.
Maybe walking through this plastic garden in the rain wouldn’t be so bad after all.
One mile later, I found myself in front of a hotel where a friend of mine had just given a presentation. This friend is not only a friend, but a confidant, a mentor, and a soothsayer. I had no idea what plans he had for us, but we slid into a cab with our wet umbrellas and backpacks and he asked the cab driver to take us to the Museum of Modern Art.
He asked me if that was okay.
That is like asking me if eating a chocolate lava cake for dinner is okay.
(The correct answer is yes, just in case you were unaware of my deep appreciation for chocolate, and art for that matter).
We arrived, and my friend flashed his membership cards in the right places as we climbed the stairs. This was my first trip to the MOMA, and I had no idea what was even being exhibited. He grew up in a family surrounded by fine art, so his knowledge of each painter, each context, and how they came into being (or passing for that matter) is rich and vast. We wandered through several of the rooms as he crafted a story weaving through Seurat to van Gogh, from Matisse to Mondrian and Magritte.
What was the story of each painter? How was their art received in their time, and now?
But beneath the art history lesson, he had a subtle and necessary agenda.
How are these paintings and these similar to my own journey?
Occasionally, we’d sit in a room, and whatever collection we had just passed he transformed into something tangible and relevant to the very steps I’m taking right now. What does van Gogh have to do with my writer’s block? A lot, actually. And what about rejection and being confident with my work (and myself) can I learn from a formerly mocked work of Matisse? More than I can share here.
I’m no stranger to art — I studied it quite thoroughly growing up. As well known as Starry Night is, it has always been one of my favorites. Even my “I-don’t-want-to-be-trendy” point of view can’t escape it. It moved me deeply in 2005 when I was in a discouraging place. And to see it, finally, up close and personal, was a breathtaking moment. Tears formed in my eyes as we stood before a handful of more recognizable pieces of his work.
These paintings are part of Vincent van Gogh.
He painted these pieces.
He touched them.
He crafted them.
He created them.
Something in his heart made him paint.
And even as my friend drew similarities between life and van Gogh, I couldn’t help but realize the profound effect seeing the actual paintings was having on me. As true as the words my friend was speaking were, the fact he was saying them as I stared at these paintings caused me to wonder…
“What – and maybe more importantly how – am I painting?”
I write words and they are sometimes put in books. Sometimes they are digitally transferred onto my computer screen, and your computer screen. Are these words as purely conceived in the same way each layer of Starry Night was painted?
Will someone read them one day and think of the soul of the girl behind them and be amazed? In tears?
Please let me clarify: It’s not because I believe anyone should be amazed in me, as a person. I am just flesh and blood and spirit and mistakes and hope and a bad driver. And I’m fairly sure van Gogh didn’t have any “what will people think?” thoughts running through his mind as he painted, either.
However, I do believe there is a purity and honesty in each of us that can be released when we set aside our expectations, our fears, and our desire to please others and simply paint whatever that unspeakable and great thing that’s inside of us. The world will take notice. Not of us, but of the great Starry Night in us that will transcend them and inspire them into believing the truth about the goodness that is inside of them as well.
“I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.” -Vincent Van Gogh
With this story, I only ask you to remember this: even in the darkest nights and the rainiest of days, moments of light and color mysteriously, majestically, and sometimes whimsically (like a rainbow of flowers disguised as umbrellas) shine through. Paint that truth.
After a long van ride from Minneapolis, The Ride:Well tour leaders arrived safely into San Diego Wednesday night and slowly, the cyclists are arriving today. We’re being hosted by the fabulous Faith Chapel church who have generously allowed us to take over their campus with our bikes, sleeping bags, and spandex.
It’s been great getting to know each person as they come in and hear why they’ve decided to donate their summer to riding bikes for Blood:Water Mission. There are definitely some serious cyclists on our team (the south team) as well as some newbies, like me.
We’ll be spending pretty much every minute for the next two months with each other, and with that comes cooking for each other, cleaning up after each other, and doing each others’ laundry. We rely on the generosity of host churches and homes, and sometimes with that, surprises abound.
That’s where the part about the janitor and the wake up call comes in.
One of the other leaders, Erin, and I volunteered to do laundry last night for the people who needed it (we have a very limited amount of clothes with us so laundry is almost a daily task). The church has a laundry area — it just happens to be pretty far from the area we were sleeping. We decided it would be easier for us to sleep in the classroom next to the laundry area so we could keep the laundry going into the night and first thing in the morning.
We planned on waking up around 6:30a to finish the last load, but at about 5:45a, the door to the classroom opens, and a very sweet, older man walks in the room. He turns on the light, sees us passed out in our sleeping bags, apologizes, and leaves.
I bet he wasn’t expecting that.
We went back to sleep and five minutes later, he returns with another man — a tall, muscular, Harley-Davidson looking guy with a big beard and bigger biceps.
“Are you ladies supposed to be sleeping in here?”
Oh crap. We are so busted.
“Well…” (I said, stammering)… “We thought it would be easier for us to keep the laundry going if we were in here…” (I continued, trying to dig my way out and wondering how crazy my bed-head looked.)
“It’s no problem,” the Harley guy continued. “I just feel bad for you guys sleeping on the floor when you could have been in the Bridal Suite down the hall. It’s so much more comfortable in there.”
So, our Harley guy ended up being a very sweet teddy-bear of a guy and even as I walked by later with our sleeping bags, he explained how badly he felt that we were sleeping on the floor.
And so begins the journey.
We’ll have a few days of training and cycling here in San Diego, and then Sunday, we’ll be leaving from Faith Chapel church (time is yet to be determined, but if you’re in the area, I’d love for you to see us off and will update my Twitter and Facebook Page with the details when I know).
Thank you so much for all your prayers. This is going to be an amazing journey for an amazing cause!
Oh, and just because you’re not doing a bike ride, did you know there are some easy and super fun ways to help support Blood:Water? Make a “lemon:aid” stand, coordinate a water walk, or….click here for some more awesome ideas.
“I could never do what you’re doing!” I told a guy named Cody at a church in Dallas. I was speaking there and he had just cycled in with the Ride:Well team, a group of fifteen or so people who were biking across the country.
Rattling off a list of reasons (including a very legit heart issue) he told me to one, get my heart fixed…and two, do the ride.
So last summer I made the vow. If I could get my heart fixed, I’d do it.
And my heart got fixed.
And I signed up for the ride.
We begin the ride across the country for Blood:Water Mission on June 6, but as part of my training, Thursday I, along with two other cyclists will be riding 100 miles (also known as a century ride).
They’ve done it before. In fact, one of them just rode 165 miles a few weekends ago.
I’ve only gone 50 miles. Once.
Most of my rides are 15-25 miles long. I think I had a 36 miler in there too.
But 100?
I twittered about it Wednesday and had so many people say, “I could NEVER do that!”
Yeah – me too! I’m still thinking this is a crazy idea!
But here’s the deal.
I CAN.
YOU CAN.
If me, a non-athletic, pasty white, nerd-author girl can ride a bike 100 miles, so can you.
Or maybe it’s not cycling, but there’s something you’ve been putting off.
But you need to do it.
You have a choice – say YES to the unknown, the scary, the uncomfortable, the exhilarating, the embarrassing, and you will be saying YES to an adventure you could never in a million years dream up.
So, you may not be riding 100 miles today (in 90* weather, with 60% humidity — not that I’m paying attention to my Weather App…) but in solidarity, would you do SOMETHING a little out of the norm today?
If you’d like to see where we’re riding, you can click here.
If you want to donate to our ride (the money doesn’t go TO us, it goes to support Blood:Water mission) you can click here.
And for the love, tell us what’s one crazy thing you want to do, or one crazy thing you’re going to do today!
I’ll be back as quickly as possible to continue the series on slowness and let you know how the ride went! You can follow my Twitter here to know the latest!
I stayed out too late last night with dear friends.
Not a hurried feeling in the world; honest conversation and dreaming over appetizers and dessert. They live in California. I live in Nashville. I cherish every moment I can spend with them.
This morning, however, was a different scenario. California traffic lived up to its inconvenient name. Google Maps said my drive to the airport, with traffic, would be 35 minutes. So as anyone who has ever driven in California would do, I allotted an hour.
I was still about ten miles out (and crawling along the 55) when my safe “hour before departure” time passed. I looked in front of me. Nothing but brake lights. I looked to my left. The HOV lane was empty. The fine if I got caught? $340. The cost of me not being home on time? Hmmm. I’ll say more than that.
Swerving (illegally) over to the HOV lane, I sped along (illegally) praying the police were tied up somewhere else. I made it to my exit with five minutes until the final “30 minutes” window to check my bag was closed.
I didn’t refill the gas in my rental car and told the guys checking me in to just bill me what I was due as I dashed off. Running up the stairs to the terminal, I was sweaty when I arrived at the ticketing counter at exactly 8:21, 29 minutes before my plane was to depart.
The agent took mercy on me, and somehow finagled a plan that got me and my bag back to Nashville when I was expected to arrive.
Phew.
So here I sit on the plane, still sweaty, thankful I had my heart surgery because it probably would have exploded in my morning of rush.
And now, the pilot just came on the intercom and told us due to weather in Dallas, our take off has been delayed 90 minutes.
All that rush and now I’m stuck.
My mind instantly goes to how I’ll be bored for the next 90 minutes. How I wish I wouldn’t have hopped in the HOV lane. How I wish I would have filled up my rental car at $5 less a gallon than what I’ll be charged. How I wish I wouldn’t have skipped breakfast.
Why can’t life be more like last night? Slow. Peaceful. Fulfilling.
Legal…
Can it be?
All these thoughts hit me this morning in light of a book I’ve been reading this week called “In Praise of Slowness” by Carl Honore. (His name actually ends with an “e” with the little accent mark over it, but I have no idea how to make that on my iPhone…sorry, Carl, if you read this.)
Honore takes an objective look at how our culture has fallen into a “cult of speed” and while not advocating an overly-idealistic lifestyle of slowness or sloth, he does offer a way for readers to contextualize a more peaceful, slow, and healthy lifestyle any of us can make with some intentional changes.
I’ve never done a book study on my blog before, but I really believe this book has a message that can teach us all something.
Since blogging on my phone in an airplane is not the easiest thing in the world to accomplish, rather than beginning today, I thought we could start the study on Tuesday.
You don’t need the book to follow along, but I can’t recommend it enough. And Amazon has it for only $6 right now.
Pick up a copy if you can, and I really look forward to exploring some of Honore’s message with you.
Do you feel the need to slow down?
I met my friend Ryan Skoog on a trip to Minneapolis a few months ago.
One of the many things Ryan does is dream up and execute really cool ideas.
One of these ideas is The Volunteer Card. Below is a little video describing it, but let’s just say it’s what every single person traveling to volunteer needs, and it is ridiculously inexpensive starting at $25!
That would have come in darn-handy when I came down with mono in Russia.
So watch this little video (it has an Aussie accent on it), and if you’re one who travels, or manages teams of volunteers for any kind of trip – domestic or overseas – definitely look into The Volunteer Card.
(Thanks Ryan, for being such a smart guy!)
First, a little history lesson on Josh.
In January, I was speaking at Belmont University. After my talk, I had an amazing conversation with a senior named Josh. He knew I was going to Haiti, and he was going to be going shortly after I was, so we talked a bit about it. In February, I returned from Haiti, and in March, Josh returned from Haiti. A week ago, over frozen yogurt, for two hours we talked about a million different things. Things like Haiti, and…well, things like pancakes.
Josh told me about an experience he had one night here in Nashville last winter – the night before first semester finals. And I told him you guys had to hear it.
So here’s Josh. And here’s a story about what happens when you stuff a jeep full of pancakes.
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Every year at my university we take a break from studying on ‘Dead Day’ and head to the cafeteria and enjoy some golden pancakes; for free! You spend all day cramming and stressing over those first few finals, but there’s something about pancakes that just makes the world a little better.
For a few moments, as that sweet, buttery piece of joy touches your lips; you can stop and forget about tomorrow’s problems.
As the event wrapped up, I found myself one of the last people still there talking away, when something caught my eye.
Bags and bags of hot pancakes were being taken out of the warmer and thrown away. Hundreds of pancakes were about to go to pancake heaven in a dumpster, and all I could think of was how many people were shivering in the cold on the streets of our city wishing they had a hot meal.
Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the women throwing them away. You can imagine the look on her face as a 22 year old asks her to let him have ALL the pancakes! I told her I wanted to make some deliveries to those fighting the cold tonight on our streets…the homeless.
Maybe some hot pancakes would afford them a momentary sweet escape from the cold.
Within minutes I was out of my Jeep walking around to those huddled by bus stops, in doorways, and wandering the streets…bags of pancakes in hand. I’d give what I had in my hands away, hop back in the new “pancake mobile” and get on with my mission. If they were walking as I was driving, with windows rolled down and said yes when I asked if they were hungry, I was pulled over in a second and brought them some pancakes!
That night as I listened to so many different stories I began to experience something incredible. Jesus says, “What you do unto the least of these, you do unto Me.”
Looking into the eyes of each person as I gave them away I began to see with a new perspective. It was incredibly simple, but beautiful at the same time; as I handed out food to these strangers…
On July 1, 2010, I’m leaving the streets of Nashville with everything that I own held in a 50lb backpack to meet Jesus around the world. I will be a full time missionary on The World Race traveling to eleven different countries over eleven months working with impoverished children, human trafficking victims, and those who have been cast aside.
My travels will take me back to Haiti, to once again work with those devastated by the earthquake, then on to The Dominican Republic, Romania, Turkey, Mozambique, Malawi, another country in Africa, China, Thailand, Cambodia, and the Philippines.
It’s a life I never imagined for myself and only God could have planned; but then again, what do I know anyway?
I invite you to follow my journey on my blog where you can read the stories and see the faces of those I meet who are need around the world.
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What Josh doesn’t say that I will say is that for him to do this trip costs $15,000. That covers his travel and meals and all his expenses for the trip. Also what Josh doesn’t say is he needs to raise $11,885 to have his trip covered. And the dude leaves in a couple of months. From talking to Josh, it’s not like he hasn’t been trying to raise support. Trust me. He’s been working his freaking tail off both at work and doing fund raising.
And you know what? He didn’t ask me to do this for him.
But here’s my schtick.
Because it’s my blog and I’m allowed to have a schtick.
Help Josh raise they money he needs for this trip.
I look at Josh and see a guy who is eight years (gasp) younger than I am.
When I was 22, I was getting sober and trying to start my life over. I didn’t give a second thought to poverty…I just wanted to keep my sports car from getting repossessed.
If this is Josh at 22…who will Josh be when he’s 30? What will eight years of growth do to an already open, adventurous, compassionate heart?
We have.
I can honestly say the return will be immeasurable.
A few times a month, I get the opportunity to go somewhere and share something I’m learning. Here are a few places I’ll be, and if you’re around any of them, I hope we can have the pleasure of meeting.
March 20-21, 2010
St. Mark’s Church
Burlington, NC & Mebane, NC
Saturday & Sunday Services
Saturday 6pm
Sunday 9am & 11 am
(*Mebane Campus via Satellite – Sunday 10:30am – I will only be at the campus digitally!)
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March 22, 2010 – WORLD WATER DAY!
Blood:Water Mission Water Walk with Jars of Clay
6 pm – 7 pm
Symphony Center Plaza/4th Ave
(*Not a speaking engagement, but I’ll be here! Come on out!)
Don’t live in Nashville? Have your own Water Walk!
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April 21-23, 2010
Catalyst West Coast
Mariners Church
Irvine, CA
Lab on 4/21
Hosting Catalyst Backstage (Online!) 4/22 & 4/23
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So…what say you? Will we meet?
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