"Lord, i want to be a Christian,
in my heart. in my heart.
Lord, i want to be a Christian
in my heart."

can you hear the music?
the heart's earnest melody?
with longing; a purity that
pierces the darkness?

in my heart.
where only God sees.
full-figured. skinny.
those sitting on a park bench, or
flying via foot. running in the early
morning mist when the sun begins to
settle on the far horizon. stretching its warmth
up and down streets, in the
neighborhoods everywhere.

in my heart
where it REALLY matters.
where we leave judgement
by the side of the road. in God's hands.
set it apart. love,
with no exceptions. shining in our eyes.
we look at people, and they can see
compassion and kindness
in spite of our own frailties and imper-
fections and sin.

hey, brother, can i take your hand?
little boy, do you want to play catch?
popcorn and laughter and a million red
balloons. all because Jesus REALLY lives.
and He is in us. in our hearts where the TRUTH
really shows. can you catch the melody?

tomorrow,
my oldest son turns 25 yrs. old.
will and i knew he was the most
beautiful baby in the nursery. and
the fact that he, at one month, rolled from
the middle of a king-sized bed, and fell off?
well, that classified him as a genius!

he, and my other three sons, melt my
cells and arteries and bones into gushing
pride. humility and gratitude. but do they
catch the rhythm of God's magnificent orchestra?
Lord, can they see my heart?
do they know, in the my quiet living out
of life, that YOU are my heart? you are ALL
that matters? do they see You in me?
in all the ways that count?

skin color means nothing
to me. social/economic status?
nothing. body size? nothing. nor
achievements can turn my head in a
different direction from the Song. oh,
i pray for my heart in this polluted, self-
absorbed world.

happy birthday, taylor.
welcome home from the university.
for the summer. catch that sweet,
clear music in the air. can you track
the rhythm of love that i've painted on
the walls? stamped the chords on the doors
so all can enjoy.

"Lord, i want to be a Christian
in my heart. in my heart."

that is ALL Jesus is about. His beethoven
of sorts. sit up. poise your instruments.
the common houses, on ordinary streets,
can tap to the beat of Christ's glorious
music of love.

come sing with me.
join the chorus.
we have work to do.
in all the heartache. all the
searching....for Someone...anyone...
to PLEASE play the song.
and tell them they will laugh again.
that joy comes in the morning.
and the shadows NEVER last
forever.

Single Parenting Q & A with Ann Kiemel

Two young girls wrote in to Heritage Builders and wanted Ann to address specific questions in regards to ministering to children from single parent families.
Her responses are thought-provoking and worth posting for others to read.
Here are their questions:

Thanks so much for being willing to help, we really appreciate it. Just to give you some context, our main idea for ministering to the kids in single parent homes was to send out a small quarterly magazine.

What are some similar emotions that kids in single parent situations probably share? For example, would they have anger, insecurity, rejection, or a sense of being un-loved?

What is the best way that kids (in general) receive encouragement?

What kinds of things might offend kids in single parent situations? For example, do you think it would be offensive to offer them a magazine labeled specifically for kids in single parent homes, or to offer to make dinner for them one night so they can spend time with their parents?

Do you think we could show God's love to them better by sending out the magazine, having events like Bible studies or movie nights they can come to, or doing random acts of kindness for them?

Now about the magazine... Do you have any suggestions on content, a program we can use to put it together, making it look appealing, etc.?

Do you have any other advice for us about working with these kids, the magazine, etc.? Any will be appreciated.

Again, thank you so much for taking the time out of your schedule to help us. We really value any input that you can give us.

And Ann's response:

dear girls,

my name is ann, and i am a single
mom who works with heritage builders on this
subject specifically. i hope these answers
will help you.

there are many things i don't know.
what age, generally, are you talking about?
what is the social-economic status?
do you do this full-time? i was deeply
touched by your passion and genuine
love for these single-parent kids. you
must be very special, and make a great
team!!

1. best way for kids to receive encouragement?

love. love. love. pick them up (one at a time
if you can), and go get ice cream together.
listen to them talk. about their day. about
their moms or dads. about hard stuff. maybe
letting them have your phone numbers so they
can always feel free to talk.

2. similar emotions single-parent kids feel
vs. all the others who live in two-parent houses?

it is easier today than it once was. today,
every l in 2-3 families is single-parent, so
children don't feel obviously disjointed and
separate from all the others. my husband
died 8 yrs. ago with cancer. i especially...and
still do...dread Father's Day. it makes the loss
feel so obvious. BUT, so much depends on the
mothers. some women can't imagine being alone,
so they hook up with men. bring them into the
home. etc. look at these kids you work with.
BUILD BRIDGES to the single parent. as you
work with the children, do something for the
mothers.

3. should we cook a special meal so they can
spend time with both parents?

yes. yes.
beautiful concept.

4.should we do Bible studies? random acts
of kindness?

again, tremendous ideas. not
knowing how old most your kids are, let me
tell you what i did when i was single, and out
to change the world for Jesus. i'd tell the guys,
who wanted to play on the basketball courts
in my neigborhood, "okay. no problem. BUT,
you have to spend 30 minutes with me in a
Bible study." i had all kinds of guys coming
to the Bible study, and then playing basket-
ball to their hearts' content. random acts of
kindness? you can never fail with this. just
be careful that you don't exhaust yourselves.
that you put into yourselves nurturing and rest and
love, or you will burn out.

5. the magazine?

i hope to meet you both
some day. you are so whole-hearted. creative
and passionate. a magazine is a BIG undertaking.
maybe once a month. each mag. should be clean
in its layout. simple to read. only three or four
pages. maybe featuring two kids an issue. pics
of them. what they love. then, it reinforces to each
one HOW special they are. most kids aren't into
alot of reading. school all day. homework to take
home. i know several women who produced beauti-
ful mags for kids, and eventually, the demand was
way down. not worth it for just a handful. how
about cards for the kids, from you? i'm a computer
idiot, but i receive cards, often. made, somehow,
online. OR, keeping a camera around, and each wk.
do a brief youtube with them in it.

6.clues to working with single-parent kids?

relate to them as if they are whole, and not
defective. divorce and death are not their fault.
what is each one's favorite candy or snack?
challenge them to DREAM BIG. to ask God
to plant a dream in them, and with all their
effort, and God's, never give up, and watch for
miracles. focus on them helping others. there
is so much healing when we give our lives away.
detach them from what they don't have, or can't
do. instead, help them to serve. to give. to
believe they can change the world. one person
at a time. our world is our neighborhood. i was
a youth director, once, out of college. big, wealthy
church. i told them God and i were going to
change the world, and if they wanted to join
me, they should meet me at the altar at 5:30 a.m.
on saturdays. prayer and breakfast (could be
fast food, with an allotment of how much they
can order).

girls, i wish my four sons (now, 20,21,23.24)
had had two gals like you in their lives. what a HUGE
difference it would have made. just remember: ask
God to make you creative. to give you ideas. and love
purely. YOU, both, ARE changing your world.
love,
ann kiemel anderson
heritage builders


If you a have question and/or set of questions for Ann, feel free to email them to
info@annkiemel.com.

have you ever been
to an AA meeting?
or celebrate recovery,
the Christian counterpart?
once you have been,
you are never the same.

it is where Jesus visits.
the broken. the enslaved.
the struggling. the desperate.
we gather. in our yearning.
to touch Him. to crawl under
His arms of love, and feel His warmth
and compassion. to breathe the
same air. to inhale His grace. to find
communion with each other. where
it does not matter how we look. what
we are wearing. where we live.
we are grasping. reaching. lost in our
muddled lives for more of HIM.

on sunday mornings,
at church, it is eons away
from the huddled masses on the
outskirts. people drive to the
beautiful, steepled churches.
bound out of clean, shiny
cars. dressed in their best.
smiling. radiating vibrance and
enthusiasm. trying to exhibit
some level of perfection. sitting,
side by side. singing about God's
vast love. nodding at friends. ministers
with perfectly-knotted ties and boisterous
enthusiasm. i am sitting next to you.
but i don't know..not really..anything about
you. nor you, me. all of us too afraid
to share our darkness because then we
might feel rejected in the ONLY place
we are supposed to find unconditional
love.

last night,
i went to celebrate recovery.
heard a young man tell how,
in seven years, he had never gone
a day without smoking pot. yet, here,
he found hope, and is four days clean.
wonder on his face. in his voice. then,
i went to the women's substance abuse
group. single mothers, wives, young
women who have fought battles all week.
somehow held on until they could come.
sit in a circle and talk. complete trust
that what is shared there, stays there.
no pretense. no compromise of truth.
joined, not by our social-economic status,
but by our brokenness and failure and
struggles.

i'm ann. i'm an addict.

hi, ann.

some of you know i shattered my
femur. broke my hip, and cracked
my pelvis a yr. ago after a fall. i
had fourteen years of recovery under
my belt. my doctor gives me four
pain pills a day. i try to only take two
at night to sleep. i struggle. i
want to be pure for God. perfect.
yes, i want to be perfect for Him.
the Savior and Star of my life. but
it is so hard. am i wrong? right?

everyone listens. nods
in understanding on some level.
i've taken my darkness, and laid it
out in front of them. humbly.
with courage, dredged out of pain.

then, charity (not her real name) spoke.
i'm a mess. i'm 27. i can't help myself.
i'm smoking heroin, and really want to
shoot up so bad. i can tell i'm pregnant
again. i've had four kids so i know. my
boyfriend's abusive, but i don't know how
to live without him.

and she starts to weep.
stunning young woman.
externally flawless. but, shattered
of soul and spirit. grief and fear and
shame hanging on her. stooped over.
eyes downcast. combing her hair away
from her face with her fingers.
utterly destitute. terrified. i went over
and threw my arms around her. she buried
her head in my shoulder. i kissed her face.

i came home
knowing i had seen a
touch of Heaven. Jesus, the Savior
of the world, crucified for us all. and
though church on Sundays looks good
on the outside, behind every glistening
facade, there are secrets. troubles.
rebellious children. women who have had
abortions in their youth. moral failures.
all of us trying to hold it together, and
forgetting that Jesus came for us. not
to make us perfect. only HE is perfection.
but to take our hands, and
lead us down the road with grace and
tenderness. promising deliverance. giving
comfort.


it's ALL about the Blood.
the Blood of Jesus. He was
wounded and scarred and hung for our
transgressions. drink from His Cup
today. "there is power..power..wonder-
working power in the Blood of the Lamb."

this was a juicy hamburger and
strawberry milkshake day. blue the
color of topaz in the sky. the pacific ocean
35 feet from the hotel. brisk air as the salty
waves curled toward shore outside our hotel
room.

tom, my brother-in-law, had business to cover
twelve miles from the oregon coast, and he and
jan asked me to come along. a king-sized
bed and a roll-a-way. just what we wanted,
except tom insisted i sleep with jan, and he
took the roll-a-way. just like tom if you knew
him.

have you ever driven through massive
redwoods, and seen the river racing far below?
stood at the foot of one of these magnificent
trees, shooting high into the sky? so high that,
even squinting, you cannot see the top?

NOTHING God makes can be replicated by
man! not in our bodies. not the majestic
ocean that stretches even beyond the horizon.
jutting mountain peaks with a dash of snow.

sitting in the tiny, home-spun space,
sipping straws of the best ever milkshakes,
i knew how incredulous God's love is for
flawed mortals.

morning light burned through the curtains.
we took the elevator down to the free breakfast
in the lobby. children giggling. orange juice
spilled. i, with p.j. bottoms and a top on. laid
back. some couples animated with each other's
conversation. one man, alone, scowling. peel-
ing off his yogurt top as if he were yanking the
skin of failure off his miserable bones. his
bleak life. one baby screaming. high strung.
needing something, but no one knowing what.

i looked around.
so much life encapsulated in this
one hotel lobby.

we were having fun, but in the damp
quietness of my soul, when i least expect
it, a shadow falls. suddenly, my imperfec-
tions glare at my moment-before peace.

the essence, my entire adult life, is that
God only looks at the heart. our motives.
our love for Him. the clean intention of being
pure and perfect. even as perfection is as
theatrically warped as one lost mis-step...
in a brilliant performance that thrills the
heart and makes one weep. the unnoticed
error obscured completely.

do you ever move from a place of
peace to a cloud dangling overhead?
stealing what was just joy, to now doubts
of your worthiness? i do.

do you get lost in what it really means
to please God? to know your servanthood
is pure? deserving? i second-guess myself
all the time.

my father prayed and fasted, often ten days
at a time. he always seemed sad to me. my
brother set the tone, and he did not match up
to my father's standards. every waking moment
i was trying to make my dad's face light up.
at 7 yrs. old. 12 yrs.old. and through my teenage
years. attempting perfection was an everyday
effort for me. and utterly impossible.

i think i've finally learned to retrace my thoughts.
what had i seen on a billboard? what song had
just played on the cd? feelings are triggered by
something as simple as what someone
said to me that shamed me. once figured out,
a slice of sun trickles into my wound.

if this is not a milkshake and hamburger day,
walk around the block several times. endor-
phins help. do something beautiful for some-
one in your neighborhood. find a chair at the
mall, and watch God's incredible creations.
beauty lives in all of us. somewhere.

"Lord Jesus, i long to be perfectly whole.
i want you forever to live in my soul.
break down every idol. cast out every foe.
now wash me and i shall be whiter than snow."
(author unknown)

take a finger,
and write love across
the sky. dig a toe into
warm sand, and know that
God counts every grain on every
beach in all the world.
life is not defined by strawberry
milkshake days so much as
by the fact that God sticks them in
here and there because He loves to
surprise us. and lift the heavy loads
that life demands to purify us.

a man wrote my children
a letter today about their mother.
he addressed my sons by name.
taylor, brock, colson, brandt.
we really love each other. and
he told the story of his youth ministry
in the 70's and 80's, and how my simple
books shaped his life. i wept.

i am making copies for each of my
sons, and they are going to be so
blessed. blessed because our journey...
the five of us...has been shaped by hardship
and struggle. something beautiful happens
when we stand together through deep waters
of adversity, and days of sorrow and loss.
even more powerful, God is placing wonderful,
loving, caring men into my sons' lives. and
they will be so proud that God has somehow
used their imperfect mom to make a difference.
i remind them that ANYONE can make a
difference. one plus Jesus plus love.

i also received a letter
this week from danae.
17 yrs. old. young and
vibrant and passionate about
Jesus, and taking Him to her
world. some day, i will be gone,
and she will take my place, and others,
reminding the world that Jesus
lives...and He loves. and
His love changes
EVERYTHING!

love.
that is all there is.

almost every day,
i drive over to panera's.
a bakery, and soup and sandwich
place. i made a decision to go
on Easter Sunday afternoon because
i am building bridges to the owner.
he is in my neighborhood.

the parking lot was completely empty.
fearful it was closed, i got out
of my car, anyway, and was
thrilled the door was open.

jerry was at the counter.
wow! i'm sure glad to see someone.
are other places as forsaken as
we are?

yes, i smiled.
so happy to reassure him
that his business wasn't going
under. i bought a shortbread
cookie, a bear claw, and yogurt
with granola. my favorites.

he thanked me so much
for always coming in and giving
him business. for bringing my friends
in, too. so happy! that is how i feel
when i have touched someone
in Jesus' Name.

one day, i went in, and autumn
was behind the counter. a single
mother of three. i ordered, paid,
and asked where we leave tips.
she said they didn't have tips there.

i stood there. thinking. praying.
opened my purse. i had a $100
to pay a bill, but pulled it out,
and rolled it up. sticking it in
autumn's hand, i said...

put this in your pocket.
i love you, and Jesus does.

later, i found out she bought
groceries for another single mom,
and herself. thanksgiving was the
next week.

people loving my children.
all of us trying to love the world.
fresh and glistening and pure.
God promises bright, happy
tomorrows. you'll see.

jan, my twin sister, was just here
for three days. i've walked my husband
down the road of cancer, and now, jan,
my dearest friend in the world.

i drove her home to sacramento,
and then headed to modesto, to take
colson, my son, to dinner, and to walmart
to buy what he needs for a new job. again,
saddened by his struggles as i am with jan's.

then....
i began to think of Holy Week.
yesterday being Good Friday.
i called each of my children.

remember, today is when we humble
ourselves because Jesus died for our sins.
remember to look for the poor. do something
in Jesus's name for someone.

brock drove in from long beach.
my second oldest son. last night, late.
we'll go to church together tomorrow
before he heads home. Easter Sunday.
the JOY of the Resurrection!

"how precious is the flow..
that washes white as snow..
no other Fount i know..
nothing but the Blood of Jesus."

being brilliant didn't deliver me
from my sins and addictions and corrupt
core, willpower (and you have to have this
to qualify for three boston marathons...and
run ANY 26.2mi.race without stopping) couldn't
lead me out of darkness. only the Blood
of Jesus.

for jan. for my children. for all of us.
only Jesus's Blood can free us of enslavement.
fling the doors of imprisonment wide open.
we are all broken in some way. sick, and
needing healing. of body. or heart and soul.

cry out today.
to the ONLY One who offers
deliverance. the One who moves mountains.
slices through every impossibility,
and raises clean sunrises out of
dark, polluted fears and failures...and
the ropes of terror that bind us. cripple us.

i am not a saint.
i need all the grace everyone
else does. let's drink of the Cup,
and eat the Bread together.
and know...ALWAYS know...
that the Blood will NEVER lose
its power.

today, i took care of a newborn baby.
beautiful. tiny. that sweet-baby smell.
it brought back so many memories of
when my four were newborns.

then, suddenly, they became teenagers.
almost overnight. and i was a single mom
through most those years. living by faith.
will had died, and cancelled his life-insurance
policy. we didn't have him, or steady finances.

i have loved every stage of my children's lives,
but do you remember when you were a teenager?
my sister and i hardly put our heads on the pillows
at night because we were afraid our teased hair
would get squashed. when we hated how we looked
en route to school, my mother would say,,,oh,
you are young and beautiful!

young?!! what did that
have to do with anything?!
i have said the same thing to my sons,
and they have looked at me the same
way i looked at my mother.

none of my children have gotten into
drugs. so far, no girl has gotten pregnant
that i know. but i had two children that
just fit perfectly into the school box.
homework. projects in on time. studied
on their own for tests. and i have two
who got a's on their tests, but could NEVER
get their brains around homework after 8 hrs.
of classes. my favorite letter of the alphabet
became "d" because it meant they at
least passed the class.

brandt, my youngest, who is now a firefighter
with the air force, would gladly tell you of some
of his escapades. how he and his friend stole
lighters from long's drug, and accidentally burned
an abandoned house to the ground. and how his
learning instructor called me every single day of
8th grade.

mrs. anderson?
yes?
brandt went across the street today
and pushed a port-a-potty over where there
is construction.

mom, i don't know why i did that.
i just thought it was a funny thing to do.

colson's english teacher happened to sit
behind me one sunday morning at church.
i had authored 17 books, and was terrified
colson had not passed her class because,
of course, he never did his homework.

even brock, in gifted classes, came home
one day and said,
mom, i have to drop out of high school.
i can't go on. i'll take my GED tomorrow
if you will let me.

and then,
all those car accidents
divided up between four teenagers.

today,
remember the one thing that matters
more than ANYTHING else: relationship.
no matter WHAT my children did, i believed
our relationship was all that really mattered.
they would tell me things i honestly can't
believe most teens would EVER tell their
parents. about sex and pornography and
the terror of rejection.

i wanted to say alot of things,
but i just listened. they trusted me.
it gave me a window in how to pray for
each of them. i would go in, every night,
and talk to them after the lights were out.
lying next to them, in the dark, where words
and emotions came so much easier.

i'm not a child expert,
but if we don't have a loving
relationship with our children,
then they will wander farther away.
yes, i had rules.some might seem silly.

no piercings until you are l8.
brock never complained, but on his l8th
birthday, i went with him to a tattoo shop
where some guy was supposed to be the BEST
with piercings. he had so many on his face that
i could not even really tell what he looked at.
i would not have even wanted him to touch me.
brock and i subtly eyed each other. i put $40
on the table. and stood by brock while he got
his lip pierced. it looked horribly painful, but it
was the best moment of brock's life, i think. smile.

no matter where your teenager is,
and i have seen mine fight and scream
and heard them use school verbage that
melted my insides. BUT, i told them every
single day that i was so PROUD to be their
mom. that i was the richest lady in the world.
i have hugged them. baked them brownies at
10p.m. at night. i've tried to keep my feet on
the ground, and take their momentary insults
without reacting too much. and yes, i called
the police one night because one of my sons
refused to show me any respect. but...

we are wrapped together
by chords of love and loyalty
and mutual respect. and in the
darkest of times, we run to each other.
if your child does not graduate from high
school, it is a disappointment,but there are
worse things. one of my sons is having
such a hard time finding himself. he is
in another city. staying at different friends'
houses, and i won't let him come home
because we have tried EVERYTHING together.
i tell him i think it is my fault. i'm not very
good at boundaries, and he NEEDS that.

but...
often, i drive to where he is.
take him out for his favorite sandwich.
get him a haircut. sometimes buy him
new underwear and socks, and maybe
a cd (he chose johnny cash. i approved).
but i don't give away money. i don't let
him see my tears when i drive away. i
know he has to figure out, on his own,
at 21 yrs. of age, how to find himself.

he calls every few days.
we always talk about how much
we love each other. i've told him,
in the past, that self-respect doesn't
just walk in the door, but i don't
anymore. i remind him, though, to
cry out to Jesus. to pray. that i'm on
my knees, for him, every day.

don't compare your family to
other families. to how well their
children seem to be doing. don't torture
yourself this way. i'd much rather my
children wander around, and find themselves
today than when they are thirty-five and forty.

relationship.
between us and God.
and between our children,
wherever they are,
and us.
that is everything.