Thursday, June 25, 2009

Forgive Me...

Forgive me God,

For missing opportunities out of sheer fear and cowardice
For craving your company...at my convenience
For speaking rich words backed up with empty actions
For always putting the thought of me before the thought of you
For hurting people in exchange for my own image and comfort
For letting my pride get in the way of a servant’s heart
For craving love but not being willing to give it back
For ignoring those who need to be shown your love...because it makes me uncomfortable
For forgetting sacrifice takes humility and courage and not just lip service
For walking by sight and forgetting the faith
For tolerating personal apathy and refusing a life of passion
For allowing my selfishness to dictate our relationship
For seeking the things of your hand before the things of your heart
For redefining discipleship – so my own pathetic attempts will some how measure up
For screaming at your absence without endeavoring towards your presence
For willing your voice but not sticking around for the answer

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Mostly Old Ladies...just for Cindy :)

So, uh, yeah. Haven’t blogged in a while. To all my faithful followers: I’m sorry. But since I’m not sure anyone actually knows my blog exists/actually reads it...I’m not really that apologetic. :) Also, typically I try to write *cough* profound things on my blog. Or thoughts which just don’t quite fit into my journal. Random things. I’m not quite sure where this one fits, but I had to write it. It’s mostly legit :). This, this blog is for you Cindy...


Three old ladies. Three hugs. Three minutes. “Anika!” Hug. Talk. “How are you feeling?” Hug. Talk. “Oh, you look so good!” Hug. Goodbye. Deep breath. Kind of the story of my afternoon. It was my baby sister’s open house but I felt equally mobbed.

It’s a good thing I’ve spent the last couple of years working on coming out of my “Anika has a radial bubble of approximately 4 feet. Enter at your own risk!” lifestyle because my bubble was popped! And, quite frankly, it was not the time or the place to turn around and pop bubble poppers a good one! And, really, who feels good about popping three old ladies good ones? Not me. They’re nice old ladies.

*sigh*

Admittedly, at one point, I was a little irritated. These people I’ve known from every stage of my life and who spotted all of my siblings immediately would come up, smile at me cordially, walk past, hug my mother, look around. Mom would point. I would wave. It became a game. At least for me. I was giving bonus points to people who recognized me without mom’s prodding. After almost three years for some of them, they didn’t have a clue who I was.

But they all wanted to find me.

Not that I didn’t want to see them, but they all had these eyes. No one (or rather not many) actually asked. But they all knew. And their eyes kind of enveloped me as they smiled and sighed; these eyes that claimed I was some sort of miracle. A couple people almost broke into tears. A few I wish just would have asked. I have an actual book of where God took me in the first four months of cancer. I’ve done a lot of growing up and a lot of adjusting since then. I have a lot of answers. Some of them canned. All of them honest. I would have told them and the puppy eyes could have been saved. We talked about Uganda instead – it was an extraordinarily convenient alternative.

Others didn’t need to ask. They didn’t need an answer...they didn’t, in reality, have any questions! They just wanted to hug. God bless them. They would pull me in so tight I would loose my balance, my breath, and once...my gum! As near as I could tell, when all was narrowed down, the fact of the matter is only...

I am loved.

Old ladies. Awkward and plentiful hugs. Smelling like Noxzema. Others wet eyes. Loosing my gum. Suddenly seems like a small pay for all of the prayers, care, love and tears that have gone into what now makes up my current existence. Oh old ladies...