i looked, and found, a
celebrate recovery group close by.
the Christian version of AA. for me,
when i attend a meeting, i go to do
WORK. on myself. my struggles. my
bent to addictions of performance and
praise and pain pills. i call it doing
BUSINESS.

this night,
there was a new woman in
the group so we went around to
introduce ourselves. the circle came
to me.

hi! i'm ann.
an addict. and
probably, like each of you,
genuinely broken by life,
and my human bent to
fix things on my own terms.

sharing started.
my name is....., and i am
a shoplifter, with many convictions
behind me. i need prayer as i get
ready to go before the judge with my
latest offense.

next:
i am an alcoholic,
among other things. i am
really struggling. every night,
God says to me, "go to bed
with your husband."
but i like this t.v. program. or...
i'm not tired. or...i just don't want to.
God keeps calling me, and i keep resisting.

my name is lindsay (not real name).
i'm an addict with an anger problem.
pregnant, and very impatient with my
three year old daughter. my husband
comes in from work. blood-shot eyes.
tense. exhausted. not always very nice,
either. i need prayer. i just know how
hard it is going to be when this baby comes,
and i'll also have a toddler running around.

it is quiet.
earnest. big, black boots
of fear and failure and terror start
rolling around. stomping.
making noise inside our heads. telling us
to be quiet. that the great shame that
owns us needs to stay inside us.

my name is rosie. i'm an alcoholic. i've hooked
up with EHARMONY because i don't want to
be alone the rest of my life, but then i keep
asking myself if any guy will want me if they
know of the gay relationships in my past.
tears glistening in her eyes.

all of us so broken that we cannot
imagine even holding the mildest judgement
toward each other in the circle.

a tiny seam of light flickers. the whisper
that deliverance can be ours. God promises...if
we fully grasp that we are POWERLESS in and of
ourselves...and look to Him, the ONLY Power greater
than ourselves...then we can find hope. we are all enslaved, and Jesus,
beautiful and pure, listens. to our ragged, raw breathing
slicing through the thick enslavement of ourselves.

well, i am ann.
i flew to a speaking date
last week, and instead of
receiving my negotiated fee with
the speakers' bureau, the sponsor coldly handed
me a check that was just pitance for my
flying across the country to speak. i
was rushed out of the large church,
tears streaming down my face. stunned.
hurt. no, devastated. i'm struggling financially,
but worse was the feeling that i wasn't worthy
of my assignment. never once, in my thirty-plus year
career of speaking and writing, had this happened.
i feel like a worm. no good. as with
others, tears began to balance on the lids of my
eyes, and i was trying to hold onto them. to NOT
reveal how deep this wound felt.

psalm 91:1, 2, 4, 14, 15
"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty....
He will cover you with His feathers, and
under His wings you will find refuge;
His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart...
I will deliver him and honor him..."

keep marching, warriors.
do not let fatigue and failure
lure you to hopelessness.
the Son shines for us. the warmth
healing our deepest hurts and failures.

ann kiemel anderson

colson berry anderson
married christina, and took,
as his own, her beautiful, baby daughter.
in a small cove by ocean waves above san
francisco.

brandt, his brother, was best man.
and i held my one grandbaby, colben,
sitting next to my first daughter-in-law,
jasmine.

taylor and brock were proud of both
their younger brothers. speaking love
and commitment to them. i sat, with humble
gratitude at the amazing way God's vast love and
grace have followed us through so many beautiful
AND tumultuous years as a family.

roar, oceans, roar,
shine, glistening sun, shine.
and may rewards come.....and
surprises live....as we toil,
day in and day out of our ordinary lives,
tangled in extraordinary adventures and
struggles.

i'm a softie as a mom.
will believed that almost everything should
be absolute, and i have always held to only a few
absolutes, but many negotiables.
two years ago, colson was home. smart. clever.
a genius as a salesman and a writer, but he wasn't
going anywhere. he announced, one day, that he was
moving back to modesto. another quick decision.

okay, colson.
but you cannot come home when it gets tough.
i spoke with tears in my eyes, and silent prayers of
deep resolve. one evening, he called.

mom, it is pouring rain, and i am
cold and hungry and i have no money. will you
please come and get me?

oh, honey, i'm sorry. i'm just walking into a
prayer class. find a bathroom somewhere, and
get on your knees and pray. tell Jesus what you need.

YOU MEAN YOU ARE NOT GOING TO COME GET ME?!!!
you are going to LEAVE me here like this?!!!

tears running down my face, i calmly said,
yes, darling. it is just you and Jesus out there.
today, he tells a sad story (makes me feel horror and pride)
of being homeless. sleeping on a bench some nights.
it was the most difficult, hands down, task I had EVER taken
on. forcing colson to find his way in this big, hard world.

he went to colorado. via train. for awhile.
back to modesto. a hard worker. had good jobs.
and when anyone peeled back the rough exterior, there
could not be a sweeter, more honest and loving heart than
colson's. he KNEW God. he had a moral conscience. and
he would vulnerably confess things to me. i would chew the
inside of my gums, but be silent while he talked. hugging and
kissing him after, and reminding him that some day, i felt he
would run my ministry of dreams and changing the world
for Jesus.

well, colson perservered. and i did.
i loved and pushed and prayed. hanging onto his shirt
for all my might, but not letting him come home except for
a family get-together or a week-end. and i would cry and cry.
but he could not hear me.
he did not know. God was
helping me make a man out of my son.

so, when april 23 came, and colson, with christina's father's,
and my blessing, married, i threw balloons through the air.
i laughed at the sun. i danced on all the trials and sins and temptations
colson had conquered, and i wrapped my arms around another
beautiful daughter-in-law and a new, grandbaby girl. buying her
ballerina slippers and lots of pink.

and i knew that my son, and i,
and his brothers, understood
better than ever before, that Jesus died and lives and
always, always, always promises
bright, happy tomorrows after the
darkness of hardships.

glorious Savior.
beautiful grace.
the glory of motherhood, and the suffering, too.
believe! believe! believe!
stay on course and watch the lip of the horizon
as it rises and sets, finally, on your dreams.

hit the wall.
drop the jar.
touch a hot iron.

listen to the noise of chaos.
hear the cries of pain.
feel the torch of rejection.

and stand. quiet and still.
feet flat on the ground.
paint the glory of the Cross
on your forehead. your breath
even and calm while life shakes
and rattles around you.

nothing about growth and faith
and hardship is easy.
nothing.

it is late Saturday night.
my day started with the early
service at church. then, lunch with
a friend.
and a quick drive to san francisco
to see jan. whatever positive and beautiful
and kind that I could put into today is over.

did i smile at those around me?
grab a warm hand and squeeze it?
feel no judgement for anyone?
only love and compassion and hope?

we live in such a critical, judgemental
society. and more Christians are addicted
to judgement than anyone else in the secular
world.

life can rattle and shake
all around us, but Jesus is our Conqueror.
our steadfast Hope. the music of His songs
still the waters and renew our urgent
longing for deliverance from ourselves.

remember,
we are warriors. Jesus is our passion.
and we march together. deliverance shines
on our faces.

i love the artistic, beautiful, little house
i rent from my friends whose
large house in front is theirs.

and, yes, i am hopelessly smitten with my
three month old grandbaby. my daughter-in-law,
who i truly love, is being deployed to dubais for
four months (brandt was deployed to bagdad a year ago),
and i get to take care of colben. he has a head of
black curls. smiles. blows bubbles. and tries to
carry on a conversation. all at 3 months.

let's not judge anyone.
love is the ONLY hope.
love! so simple and clean and
pure. always believing God has
the real picture of all our hearts so
He can do the judging and we can
love unconditionally.

fight the good fight.
stay the course.
i love you.

proverbs 3:5-6

gushing with God's love.
running the race for His glory.
with all of you at my side.

the wilderness comes and goes.
but God has amazing surprises that
restore us and keep the passion alive.

the sky sometimes darkens.
the holes we fall into can be very deep.
very hard to crawl out of.

but...God...glorious God.
He is our story. He is our joy. He is
our perfection in brokenness. He does
the miracles. He creates the music.

i know. i have lived long enough
to see the miracles.
to watch the sunrise.
to see the seemingly-impossible
live. from holes to mountain peaks.

i love each of you.
this is our Race.
the Runner we are following is
Jesus.

never give up. never let fear rule.
never take credit
for victories. never forget to praise
the One who forces the desert and wide, lonely
places to clash into honor and wisdom
and celebration.

love wins.
not judgement.
not pride.
not criticism.
LOVE.

today,
if you don't know how
you will pay the bills. or
how you can conquer your
addictions. or how one of your
children is going to make it.
or how to turn loss to gain...
i can promise you that, with God,
you can. i've run way down
the road...and i have seen
the victories and
heard the music shattering
our feeble faith.

God looks at our hearts.
He asks that we keep them with
all diligence.

today, i don't notice people's externals.
with my children, i care only about their
hearts. the rest is periphery.

"everyone who competes for the prize
is temperate in all things..."

"therefore, i run thus; not with
uncertainty. thus i fight. not as one
who beats the air. but i beat my body
and bring it into subjection, lest, when
i have preached to others, i myself should
become disqualified."

I Timothy 4:16
I Corinthians 9:26, 27

on my most difficult days,
i remember you all are with me.
grab hands and never let go.

gushing with God's love.

running the race for His glory.

with all of you at my side.

the wilderness comes and goes.

but God has amazing surprises that

restore us and keep the passion alive.

the sky sometimes darkens.

the holes we fall into can be very deep.

very hard to crawl out of.

but...God...glorious God.

He is our story. He is our joy. He is

our perfection in brokenness. He does

the miracles. He creates the music.

i know. i have lived long enough

to see the miracles.

to watch the sunrise.

to see the seemingly-impossible

live. from holes to mountain peaks.

i love each of you.

this is our Race.

the Runner we are following is

Jesus.

never give up. never let fear rule.

never take credit

for victories. never forget to praise

the One who forces the desert and wide, lonely

places to clash into honor and wisdom

and celebration.

love wins.

not judgement.

not pride.

not criticism.

LOVE.

today,

if you don't know how

you will pay the bills, or

how you can conquer your

addictions. or how one of your

children is going to make it.

or how to turn loss to gain...

I can promise you that, with God,

you can. i've run way down

the road...and i have seen
the victories and

heard the music shattering

our feeble faith.

God looks at our hearts.

He asks that we keep them with

all diligence.

today, i don't notice people's externals.

with my children, i care only about their

hearts. the rest is periphery.

"everyone who competes for the prize

is temperate in all things..."

"therefore, i run thus; not with

uncertainty. thus i fight. not as one

who beats the air. but i beat my body

and bring it into submission, lest, when

i have preached to others, i myself should

become disqualified."

I Timothy 4:16

I Corinthians 9:26, 27

on my most difficult days,

i remember you all are with me.

grab hands and never let go.

it is almost Christmas eve.
please forgive me for not communicating
with you, my fellow warriors and friends,
since right before Thanksgiving.
my first grandbaby, Colben William Anderson,
was born on Thanksgiving day. NOW, i know,
what one feels when your children have a baby.
something so beautiful and pure and...it levels
life out in some miraculous way. all of us...my other
sons and jasmine's brother and mother and i were
all with her through labor and delivery. yes, through
the entire process, we stood and watched this
unforgettable event.

this is such a difficult time for so many.
i have felt so deep under the waters of struggle
and concern that it has made me, literally, put
one foot in front of the other. telling myself,
"just keep moving." pain squeezes our ability
to remember what we have. we are so consumed
by what we don't have. none the less, pain becomes
a gift. it is by gulping a breath of air in the dark waters
of the soul that we realize joy when it does happen.

my book proposal has been sent to all
main publishers. several wanted to negotiate
immediately IF i would just write like the rest of
the world. with full punctuation. conforming with
all the other books in the store. as desperate
as i am for income, i just can't, overnight, decide
to do this. so i wait. wondering how God is
going to accomplish this process. i am so fiercely
open and vulnerable and unveiling that i just
can't decide this overnight. please pray re: this.

wherever you are, today, remember that there
are masses around you that are fragile and devastated
and almost paralyzed by the economy. or with
lost and prodigal children. no income to buy those
they love gifts. shaken by those that won't forgive
or need forgiveness.

this has been the most difficult time for me.
so i am especially touched by those who walk
by. moved by the pain i see etched behind their
half smiles.

Jesus says, "fear not!"
He reminds us that His arm is NEVER too
short to help us. His mercies endure forever.

please forgive this rough blog. from my
heart to this page. no matter HOW hard i've
tried to put together something beautiful for
everyone to read, i have felt too broken myself
to process it all. i love you all. we ARE warriors.
we will NEVER give up. for the King of Glory
will come in.

a beautiful, miraculous Christmas to you all.
i gave a beautiful, little, crippled mexican woman
my dryer.

"i pay you $50. that enough, missus."

"you don't need to right now."

"no, i pay you missus."

her nephews came in and carried
it out to her little red truck.

as she hobbled to hand me the cash,
her face shining, i said,
"elaudia, i won't take your money."

"yes, missus..."

"no, merry Christmas. remember Jesus
really loves you." and i hugged and kissed her.

i had $25 in my account. no idea HOW i was even
going to feed all my children coming home. stark terror.
i was reading in my room when i heard my cell phone,
and knew i had a message.

"ann, i just put $600 in your acct...for Christmas
or rent or whatever you need." mark and julie

$50 given away. $600 given back from God.
without me telling anyone of my seeming devastation.
so GIVE everyone. in whatever way you can. God
will NEVER let you outgive Him. i love you, ann.

forgive my whining and groaning
about the dmv, and flunking the tests.
oh, please forgive. today, i walked in,
went straight to the counter, no studying.
and passed. hands down.

forgive someone you know you have
a grudge against. make the real power
of the glorious Cross worth what Jesus did.

forgive your children. human and struggling
and losing their ways and trying to find themselves
maybe in all the wrong ways. without forgiving, you
cannot genuinely listen and love and be creative
in how you express their beauty and value to you.

and...
forgive yourselves.
i am ruthless with myself.
my failures and flaws are lined up,
side by side, stamped on the walls
of my closest and hidden places of
my heart.

a dear friend
told me the other night that
she covers for me when certain
people at the church are always
critical and judgemental of me.

why tell me that?
now i know i have all these people
who have negative opinions about me.
i slip into the service.
sit wherever there is a chair.
smile and greet a few people as i leave,
i have a few great friends there, but not
alot. why do people have negative opinions
of me? i don't vie for attention. make a scene.
it's so hard to have perspective with this.

i love that old song that pleads for sinners.
"just as i am,
without one plea...
but that thy Blood was shed for me...
oh, Lamb of God, i come. i come.

just as i am,
and waiting not
to rid my soul of one dark blot...to Thee
whose Blood can cleanse each spot...
oh, Lamb of God, i come."

when things get muddy
in our brains, and some things
run together and scramble our
perspective, know that deliverance
most often comes through forgiveness.

drawing so much strength from all
of you who love me and send me beautiful
words...love, ann