"how easily could God,
if He so willed, set back the
world a little turn or two! correct
its griefs, and bring its joys again!"
edna st. vincent millay

just a turn here and there.
so the sorrows can be undone. the
failures. and life be as before. beautiful
and fresh and untarnished.


nash.
a graduate of whittier college.
summa cum laude..
young. vital. handsome.
his future planted with vastly-
promised possibilities. a job
waiting in san francisco. the
sky clean and blue. the pacific ocean
out his window. the world knocking
at his door.

one, gentle, cool evening.
he asked a beautiful, young , indian girl
to go out. maybe the third date, they
had protected sex. until the condon broke.
strangers. her culture a world away from his.
how much can you really know someone
over THREE dinners? how much?

she called and told him she was
pregnant, and positive it was his baby.
she was wild for nash the first night she
saw him. thought he was the most gorgeous
creature she'd ever laid eyes on.

pregnant?! a BABY?!
in one conversation, EVERYTHING nash
had going for him...freedom and the beginning
of the rest of his life...was obliterated.
shattered. leaving him naked. exposed. and
he withdrew deeper and deeper into himself.
the sky was no longer blue. the ocean a
million miles away.

lying in bed,
he would look over at this strange,
beautiful woman. pregnant with his child,
and he hated her. an unknown object.
blasting his peace. his joy. his soul!

he went to all the doctor's visits.
tried, in every way, to be honorable
and shoulder this weight. and he
sank lower. to depths no one else
knew or could understand.

the baby was born.
a beautiful, tiny girl.
i could not see a drop of nash
in this precious child we all
treasured.. none of us could.
but we embraced her. the
ground unstable under our feet.

the young mother
became more and more
distraught and demanding. nash
lost his bonus because of missing
so many work hours because of
her screaming orders to come home.

finally, secretly,
nash ordered a paternity test.
to be delivered to a private p.o. box.
without the mother knowing. he
swabbed the baby's cheek. then his
own. and mailed the package.

it was the same day....
the baby turned 6 mos. old...
nash had his birthday, and his mother,
my twin sister, jan, was diagnosed with
cancer. the DNA results came.
99.9% positive the baby was NOT his.

he went in, quietly, and picked up
this little girl we all loved. fed her.
talked to her. put a dry diaper on,
and laid her back in her crib.
with self-contained rage
boiling just under his skin.
behind his eyes. on the bottoms
of his feet, he handed susan the DNA
results. picked up a few things, and
walked out.

nash isn't about sitting behind a desk.
raking in alot of money for the sake of success.
he's a visionary. a dreamer. wanting to build a
better world. spain. china. anywhere. one brick
at a time. a banner here. five thousand there.
world, dance with me. believe with me. innovate.
create. expand.

like all of us,
maybe he forgot that the
Creator of the universe is the ONLY
One who can lead us to the music.
and direct the orchestra.

for weeks.....and months,
nash has been battling an internal war.
day after day, curled on his bed in a
fetal position. the hole too deep. the
wall too high. sometimes, he's sat at a
bar. drunk a martini. annihilated.

then, last night.
rock bottom. the place we all
must get to before we can rise out
of the ashes.

"God, i'll go. anywhere.
do anything. ANYTHING.
take my life. all of me. Jesus,
lead me out."

in its own way,
the sinner's prayer.
the arm
reaching out of the
wreckage, and God's arm
grabbing ours, and lifting us out.


"oh, joy,
you seek me through the pain.
i cannot close my heart to Thee.
i trace the rainbow through the rain,
and know the promise is not vain that
morn shall tearless be."

hey, nash,
your aunt ann treasures you.
believes in you. and i'm watching
as God turns the corner of your life.

YES
to tomorrow.
fresh dreams.
higher mountains.
greater impossibilities.
wider sunrises.
stouter courage.
braver risks."
YES
because Jesus is the divine YES.
because He changes everything.
He is my highest fulfillment.
He made me whole...
takes the bad and turns it to good.
He is my Song.
my Reason to live.
"for to me to live is Christ"

i stand before Christ and the world.
my heart shouts an affirmation:
Jesus, i am a lowly servant woman.
take me. all of me.
add anything. take away anything.
at any cost. with any price.
make me Yours. completely...wholly.
may i not be remembered for how
i wear my hair
or the shape of my face
or the people i know
or the crowds i've addressed.
may i be known for loving You
for carrying a dream.
for building bridges
to the hurt and broken and lost in the world.
make me what You would be if You lived
in person where i do.
may everything accomplished through my simple
life bring honor and glory to You.
for carrying a dream.
to the hurt and broken and lost.
take my human failures and flaws,
and use them to remind those who know me
that only You are God.
and i will always just be ann.
amen.
amen.

i can spot a single mother
across walmart or the grocery store.
or fixing sandwiches behind the counter
of subway.

all of us doing double time
to make ends meet. to keep the
roof over our heads. making sure
our children eat. that the electricity
isn't turned off.

the other night,
i went to celebrate recovery.
taylor, my oldest, to the gym.
all of me itched for a solid, two-hour
work-out, but keeping my sobriety
wooed me more than the other.

thinking taylor would be home
before i was. i left the house key
on the chest in the living room.
when i got home, the door was
locked. no key under the mat.

i got back in the car, to the gym.
and while waiting for my son to
answer the page (had ear phones
in, listening to his music so didn't
hear), i was visiting with sandy behind
the counter. handing out towels. etc.

finally, she came over,
and just the two of us were talking.

ann, i've worked here for seven years,
and still get $9 an hour. isn't that pitiful?!!
no benefits. nothing.

i found taylor.
he handed me the house keys.
as i was driving home, God
spoke.

ann, remember all the cash
at home that you got out for the
rent? give her $100 in My name.

these are my most glorious moments!!
the THRILL of helping Jesus in my
neighborhood. my face gets flushed
with excitement. heart pounding.

grabbing $100, and zooming back
to the gym. pushing through the front
door, i found her standing alone. wrap-
ping up for the night.

i rolled the bill
so she couldn't see
the amount. opened her
hand, and closed her fingers around
the money.'

sandy (fictitious name),
i give this to you in the name
of Jesus. i don't care what you do
with it.

a glorious God.
radiance on her face.
she began to weep.

sandy, this is not mine.
but God's. He knows ALL your
needs. covers you when you
are in pain. when you have run
out of all your resources.

she kept crying.
hugging me. kissing my face.

sandy, are you
a single mother?

yes, three children.

whoa! we were sisters.
leaning hard on Jesus to
keep us afloat. i know because
i have four as a single mother.

oh, ann, i love you.
you'll never know what
this means. miracles really
do happen! you have no idea
how much i needed this.

soaring with the angels.
the Divine. joining in God's
kingdom efforts on earth.
as fresh as the early morning
sky. as quiet as the sun stretching
lower and lower across the horizon.
single parents. alone and difficult,
yet NEVER alone. NEVER abandoned.

"guide me, oh, Thou great Jehovah.
lead me through this barren
land.
i am weak, but Thou art mightly.
guide me with Thy powerful hand.

bread of Heaven,
feed us 'til we want no more.
bread of Heaven,
feed us 'til we want no more."

"there is a River
that flows from Calvary....
there is a River that never
shall run dry...." old hymn


flow, River, flow.
our hearts are parched.
dried of compassion and love.
our vision is so narrow.
our thinking so small.
our fears like giants, taunting
us. and rage seeping out, and
mixing with our fake bravado.
crushing all the beauty.
shattering who we are for God.

my youngest son came home
for the week-end. my oldest, still
in college, here, too. they rented
the movie GRAN TARINO. clint eastwood.
get it. watch it.

clint is this bitter, old guy.
wife just died. spoiled, adult
children. his house gradually
surrounded by hmong families.
gang violence. he is hostile.
doesn't like anyone. annoyed
by all. loves only his dog.

his wife, before she died, made
the young, irish priest promise that
he would get her husband to confession
before he died. impossible challenge one.

it is subtle. the story line.
brick upon brick. ultimately, this old
guy cannot help himself. the love of
two hmong teenagers (brother/sister)begins
to crack eastwood's brittle exterior.

he feels more loved by his hmong neighbors
than his own, superficial, disrespecting adult
children. a hmong gang takes on this brother/
sister team. it fires eastwood up. he tackles
it first with violence. beats a gang member
brutally. pulls out his gun. his mind travels
back to vietnam, and the scourge of soul
when he had to kill.

without divulging
the brilliant evolvement
of love, let me just say "dirty harry"
was able, again, to produce a great
movie. though no spiritual thread was
woven into the story, it brought me back
to love.

"to write the love
of God above, would drain
the ocean dry. nor could the
scroll contain the whole...though
stretched from sky to sky." hymn

one of my children from boston...
a boy i utterly loved from the ghetto.
went with me and 11 other children
as my guests to israel to run my very
first marathon..found me on facebook.
from nine and ten years of age to now
42 yrs.. married with two children.

his mother was a woman who worked
in my neighborhood. someone i led
to Jesus. she, too, found me on facebook.
devout Christian. connected again after at
least 25 years ago. River flow. River flow.

a couple has been moving in
next door today. 107degrees.
it is 9:30p.m., and it hits me that
maybe they need taylor, my son, to
help. and me. i tear off my night-gown.
pull on shorts and teeshirt.
run next door and knock. they are basically
done for today. but we meet. and i had only
been home minutes when the knock comes
to my front door. the washing machine.
help? please? taylor runs over. they get
the job done. a new bridge built.

love transforms us.
takes the hardness and coldness
out of our hearts, and washes the rigidity
and sarcasm with purity. changes our
world view.

River come.
oh, River, come.
in the glistening waters
of your Blood, wash over
us.

sir, can i help you?
hey, kid, you want to play catch?
oh, what beautiful eyes you have.

spontaneous moments.
unheralded. authentic.
Jesus' Blood. our River.

oh, River, drench our desolation.
wash us. that your love, in us,
will change the world.

motherhood is beautiful
and hard and, often, way over
my head. especially when it
comes to tough love.

one of my sons lives in a city
close by. he is handsome, brilliant.
can talk to anyone, and write circles
around me.

but living skills?
keeping his word?
meaning to, but doing it is
another story altogether.

i drove to where he lives
ten days ago because he was
needing a bicycle. his walking
to work, two hours a day, demoralized
me, to say nothing of him.

so, i picked him up.
took him to o'brien's market
for his favorite, tri-tip sandwich,
and headed to walmart to check out
bikes.

mom! i have a great idea!
we could use your bank card,
and get me clear-wire service for
my computer. it's only $29 a mo!
well...it goes up to $44 after three
months.

BUT, mom, i have a job, and i
could pay you every month. like,
today is wednesday, and i get paid
friday. i'll give you the first month then.

for a brief moment,
my brain decided to sit on a shelf
somewhere, and i went along
with him. we bounded into the
clearwire store. i asked if we had time
to test it and return it. yes, one week.''

i laid my card on the counter, and we
walked out. tall and proud. i had the happiest
son in the world.

well, friday came, and i called about my
first payment. our agreement. his words
began to slide through me with a chill. a
dark realization. this utterly-amazing son
of mine, finding it hard to navigate life. not
doing what he said he wiould do, had just
displayed his life-worn behavior.

darling. you are an adult.
do NOT tell me you will do something
if you aren't. a person's word is his
character. shapes the form of his life
journey. establishes trust or negates
it.

BUT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, MOM!
i bought $50 wowrth of minutes for my phone
so you can always reach me.

AND, MOM, i was so lonely.
so down. so i took a nice girl
(you would REALLY like her!)
on a date.

honey,
the first month, and you already
have failed on your word.

i walked around for two days.
disgusted with myself. my son
does not drink or smoke or do drugs.
his addiction is a specific game online.

i knew better.
again, in a subtle moment of weakness,
(after all, we, as a family, had been through
the wilderness and the flood), i had created
a mess for myself.

and i knew
i'd face hell for
my decision.

day seven arrived.
i drove to where my son
lives, and knocked on the door.
i asked him for the clearwire box
and chords. within moments,
i was scorched by the heat of
rage spewing everywhere.

you are not worthy to be a mother.
you are worse than my worst girlfriend.
ouch! his girlfriends are the bottom-of-the-list girls.
i don't ever want to see you again.
i am going to change my last name.
i am no longer in this family, and i don't
want to EVER again be your son!!

i'll leave out the most choice words.
nasty, and outside my vocabulary.

listen, honey, i know i've not been perfect.
i know i've failed you. will you forgive me?

NO!! NEVER!!

well, no matter what,
i'm taking the box back to
the store. of you can't keep
your word the first month,
there's no question i can't depend
on it.

finally, i quietly walked next door
to the woman in charge of the program.
with young people, 18-21, chosen.
to teach life skills. free counselling. etc.
i needed support. i meant business, and
every single second of this scenario was
excruciating. if i wilted now, all the
tough love i'd doled out for the last 8 mos.
would go down the tube.

i'm a lover. let's be happy.
for the first time, ever, i had
stuck to my guns. unbending
to the schrewed manipulation.

the director
walked out with the box.
i cried, and thanked her for ALL
she was doing for my son.

ann, give him time. it'll be okay.

it sure didn't feel okay.

as i was almost to the freeway
for home, my son called. sobbing.

please don't get on the freeway, yet.
i didn't mean all those horrible things i
said, mom. you and i are close. right?!
i know i'm the black sheep in the family, but...

you are NOT the black sheep in our family.
not for one single second has that thought EVER
entered my mind. i'm so proud to be your mom.
i utterly believe in you. you are my son with
a calling on his life.

i drove back to where he lived.
we stopped and bought two of his
favorite dvd's he could watch on
his computer, and some groceries.

if we don't learn to stand
by our word growing up, then we
are adults still playing the same games.
still manipulating. we become grown-ups,
doing the same games, but more polished.
smoother. easier to dress ourselves in ways
not noticed at a glance.

i wish every morning had a clean,
summer sky. but they don't. some
days the wind swirls. thunder roars. people
have foul moods.

that is what the Redeemer, the Savior,
is all about. redemption. cleansing of
the carnality we are born with.

tough love.
it is not pretty.
but it is the foundation
of our destinies. we owe
it to our children to live through
the pain...to the other side...so
God can depend on us to be
His disciples. His world-changers.

motherhood is beautiful

and hard and, often, way over

my head. especially when it

comes to tough love.



one of my sons lives in a city

close by. he is handsome, brilliant.

can talk to anyone, and write circles

around me.



but living skills?

keeping his word?

meaning to, but doing it is

another story altogether.



i drove to where he lives

ten days ago because he was

needing a bicycle. his walking

to work, two hours a day, demoralized

me, to say nothing of him.



so, i picked him up.

took him to o'brien's market

for his favorite, tri-tip sandwich,

and headed to walmart to check out

bikes.



mom! i have a great idea!

we could use your bank card,

and get me clear-wire service for

my computer. it's only $29 a mo!

well...it goes up to $44 after three

months.



BUT, mom, i have a job, and i

could pay you every month. like,

today is wednesday, and i get paid

friday. i'll give you the first month then.



for a brief moment,

my brain decided to sit on a shelf

somewhere, and i went along

with him. we bounded into the

clearwire store. i asked if we had time

to test it and return it. yes, one week.''



i laid my card on the counter, and we

walked out. tall and proud. i had the happiest

son in the world.



well, friday came, and i called about my

first payment. our agreement. his words

began to slide through me with a chill. a

dark realization. this utterly-amazing son

of mine, finding it hard to navigate life. not

doing what he said he wiould do, had just

displayed his life-worn behavior.



darling. you are an adult.

do NOT tell me you will do something

if you aren't. a person's word is his

character. shapes the form of his life

journey. establishes trust or negates

it.



BUT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, MOM!

i bought $50 wowrth of minutes for my phone

so you can always reach me.



AND,MOM, i was so lonely.

so down. so i took a nice girl

(you would REALLY like her!)

on a date.



honey,

the first month, and you already

have failed on your word.



i walked around for two days.

disgusted with myself. my son

does not drink or smoke or do drugs.

his addiction is a specific game online.



i knew better.

again, in a subtle moment of weakness,

(after all, we, as a family, had been through

the wilderness and the flood), i had created

a mess for myself.



and i knew

i'd face hell for

my decision.



day seven arrived.

i drove to where my son

lives, and knocked on the door.

i asked him for the clearwire box

and chords. within moments,

i was scorched by the heat of

rage spewing everywhere.



you are not worthy to be a mother.

you are worse than my worst girlfriend.

ouch! his girlfriends are the bottom-of-the-list girls.

i don't ever want to see you again.

i am going to change my last name.

i am no longer in this family, and i don't

want to EVER again be your son!!



i'll leave out the most choice words.

nasty, and outside my vocabulary.



listen, honey, i know i've not been perfect.

i know i've failed you. will you forgive me?



NO!! NEVER!!



well, no matter what,

i'm taking the box back to

the store. of you can't keep

your word the first month,

there's no question i can't depend

on it.



finally, i quietly walked next door

to the woman in charge of the program.

with young people, 18-21, chosen.

to teach life skills. free counselling. etc.

i needed support. i meant business, and

every single second of this scenario was

excruciating. if i wilted now, all the

tough love i'd doled out for the last 8 mos.

would go down the tube.



i'm a lover. let's be happy.

for the first time, ever, i had

stuck to my guns. unbending

to the schrewed manipulation.



the director

walked out with the box.

i cried, and thanked her for ALL

she was doing for my son.



ann, give him time. it'll be okay.



it sure didn't feel okay.



as i was almost to the freeway

for home, my son called. sobbing.



please don't get on the freeway, yet.

i didn't mean all those horrible things i

said, mom. you and i are close. right?!

i know i'm the black sheep in the family, but...



you are NOT the black sheep in our family.

not for one single second has that thought EVER

entered my mind. i'm so proud to be your mom.

i utterly believe in you. you are my son with

a calling on his life.



i drove back to where he lived.

we stopped and bought two of his

favorite dvd's he could watch on

his computer, and some groceries.



if we don't learn to stand

by our word growing up, then we

are adults still playing the same games.

still manipulating. we become grown-ups,

doing the same games, but more polished.

smoother. easier to dress ourselves in ways

not noticed at a glance.



i wish every morning had a clean,

summer sky. but they don't. some

days the wind swirls. thunder roars. people

have foul moods.



that is what the Redeemer, the Savior,

is all about. redemption. cleansing of

the carnality we are born with.



tough love.

it is not pretty.

but it is the foundation

of our destinies. we owe

it to our children to live through

the pain...to the other side...so

God can depend on us to be

His disciples. His world-changers.

"commend me to a bruised brother, a
broken reed. for the Man of Sorrows is never
far from him." robert murray mccheyne

hmmmm.
bruised and broken.
like Jesus. our goal.

can i keep the devil from taking
my song? pastor bobby's
words still ring in my ears.

plant my feet
on the Solid Rock.
held steady by Jesus.
when the storms roar, and
i sway in my pain, may the song
live!

the business goes under.
you lose your job. someone you
love more than you love yourself
dies. can the devil take our song?
can't let him do it.
can't let him win.

it was a normal week day.
i drove to modesto to see my
doctor. picked up a steaming-hot
bowl of cheesy-potato soup to go.
cradled the bowl, with a plastic lid,
deep in my lap. as i pulled right, onto
the main street, making a sharp turn,
the soup flew.
lid off. all over me, and toward the passenger seat
where i had important papers.
as i reached to grab the bowl,
i automatically turned the steering wheel
in that direction, and jumped the curb
on one side.

standing by my car. stunned.
soup down my black dress. chew-
ing on my bottom lip. unable
to bring the car back over the curb.
i stood.
cell phone forgotten at home.
my song fading.

a police car pulled up to see that
everything was okay. i explained my
delimna. before i could mentally devise
a solution, the officer looked at me, and
said....i can tell by your eyes that you
have been drinking!

excuse me?!! what did you say?

you have been drinking!
i can tell by your eyes.

too stunned to tell him i was ten
days away from eye surgery on the
muscles of my eyes...that one pupil
or the other wanders to the outside,
i just gaped at him.
speechless.
unable to dialogue that i have NEVER
liked alcohol. how it tastes or how it
makes me feel. i NEVER drink.

but before i knew it, they were
putting me in the backseat of the
police car. charging me with a DUI.
no breathilizer. just because..my eyes.

the song?
it was gone.
replaced by a dirge of terror and
horror and shock.

through the grid in the police car,
my voice trembling, i said, draw my blood!

it was done by a nurse.
i was booked into the women's jail
in the next city, in the middle of nowhere.
stripped. finger-printed. face mugged.
one phone call allowed, and i could not
think of one phone number. not one.

brokenness.
a path to higher ground.
well, i didn't like it. didn't want it.
knew i had been wronged, and did not
want any music.

finally, i was led outside.
three massive, tilled fields between
me and the road. was told i had five minutes
to cross this spanse, and catch the last bus
of the night to modesto.

run!
my instincts kicked in.
i knew how to run.
kicking off my
flip-flops. eyes down so as to miss
the holes. face covered in tears, i
started running for my life. as the bus
was pulling away, i slapped the door, and it opened.

today,
my eye surgery is done.
all charges have been dropped
because no alcohol or drugs were
found in my blood. it was a dear friend
who called out of the blue, who retained
an attorney to represent me. i had told
every young woman arrested after me about
Jesus. and He, through it all, did NOT aban-
don me.

i flunked with my song.
i wasn't noble in my brokenness.
but God used this in my life. the pain
DID become my gift.

"i want to scale the utmost heights,
and catch a gleam of glory bright;
but still i'll pray 'til Heaven i've found,
my prayer, my aim is highter ground." (old hymn)

"i will exalt you, O LORD, for You have lifted
me out of the depths and did not let my enemies
gloat over me...weeping may remain for a night,
but rejoicing comes in the morning." ps.30