Lost in Translation

I am home alone.

Let me see if I can convey my heart to you...

as Dave Barnes plays on iTunes and rain sprinkles lightly outside...

(Please go listen to "you'll love will never change".)


My fourth semester of college starts tomorrow.

I've done this three times before.

I kind of have this notion that I know what I'm doing.

I know where 248 OSB is, and where 216 ATB is...

I know where to find parking, where to go about paying my bills.

There are a few people I know to stay away from.

I'll be looking for my favorite janitor.

A few professors will nod at me.

A few fellow classmates with smile.

And I've avoided thinking about the whole scenario at all...

Just to save myself from my anxiety.

If I let myself, I will get nervous about managing my time. About my professors (which ones will yell? Spit? Call on me? Who grade the easiest, which ones are in love with homework?). Will I be able to catch on to what I have to learn?

I won't let myself think about it.

I'm sort of holding my breath.

Look closely... I might be turning blue.


I went to church tonight.

Going with my roommates wasn't as bad as I anticipated (nothing ever is).

Brad Stone spoke. In his spastic, passionate way. Big-eyed, loud-voiced, story-telling way.

My prayer going into tonight was that God would teach me something.

That He would meet me in this place...

I was trying to find Him.

Don't hide from me, o Lord.


Brad opened with a question.

"What are you dreaming about, thinking about... that is big?"

I laughed. If he only knew.

He elaborated. Repeating the question.

He paused. "Let me ask you the same question in a different way. What is it that you are praying about... that is big?"

I didn't laugh. If he only knew.

"What is it that you are praying about that is so big that if God doesn't respond... it can't be done? When you pray, what is it you pray for that you seek Him, saying be here, God. I need you. I cannot do this alone."

Oh.

Brad started talking about the ministries at Southland. About the free health clinics, about small groups, about retreats.

Retreats. When was the last time I went on a retreat? *remembers Bigstuf, 2005*

Brad tells us that tonight we are ending a chapter. August 19th, 2007. A year ends tonight for us. Tomorrow, August 20th 2007, starts everything new.

A whole new year. What is it this year that we are going to pray big about? What is God going to do with us, in us, through us, for us this year that is big.

Are we willing to let Him?

I felt the tears coming.

Even as I write this, I know I am unable to express the emotions in my heart.

I am at the point where I don't know what to pray anymore. I am out of words. The ones I know are insufficient.

And yet...


I hear His voice.


He's telling me something.


There are days it sounds like, "hold on tight, baby, I'm sending you away. You're going."

Other days, "Let's go, Anna. You're staying here. But how well do you really know your home?"


Most days He speaks in a different language.

One that I am familiar with. I hear the nuance and the implication and I see the expression of His face. But I don't understand the words. What is it, specifically, that He is telling me? How can I find out? How do I know? Something is being lost in translation... and my head is swirling.


Classes start tomorrow.

15 hours of classes.

35 hours at the office.

Saturdays at the gym.


Education is important. I need it. I want it. There are days I'm excited about it.

I have to work. No if's, and's, or but's.

But what about my soul?


What good is an education, what good is a pay check, if my soul is starving?

If I am so spiritually thirsty... lonely... exhausted... confused... (fill in the blank).

I felt Him telling me tonight, if you gain the whole world, but have not love.....

If I cannot make time for the things that really matter, what's the point?


So I am in search of a family.

I have found a home. Finally, a safe place.

Standing in the service tonight, I felt the tears coming. O, holy spirit, use those tears to pray for me. I stood there and looked up.

She was getting baptized. I don't know her name, couldn't hear her voice. But tears wracked my chest and they didn't stop. Then he got baptized. Cheering. I looked back behind me and saw someone I knew on his knees, his face almost pressed to the ground. And my own knees hurt a little.

We sang. And the cry of my heart is to bring you praise, from the inside out, ohh my soul cries out...

My soul is crying out. My eyes were crying out.

He wants us to seek, knock, ask. To be bold. Like the man who wakes his neighbor from a deep sleep to ask for three loaves of bread. It was not because of their friendship that the neighbor awoke and gave the man the bread he asked for. It was because of boldness. Because he sought, knocked, and asked.

I am seeking.
I am knocking.
I am asking.

For a family.
For someone who will kneel down beside me here in the dirt, hold my hand, and pray.
For refreshment.
For purpose.

I need a translator.

And a map.

Because this is foreign territory.

And there is a very important message, all my instructions, being lost in translation.

I am praying big things. And thinking big things. And dreaming big things. All so big I'm bursting at the seams.

Don't let me fall ill with monotony. Don't let me be a victim to anxiety. Don't let me die of thirst. Don't let me wither from lack of community.

August 19th, 2007. It is time for things to change.

Time for some sleep.

August 20th, 2007. It will be a good morning.