tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34761782381418102312024-12-18T19:23:38.687-08:00Observations about life, love, God, doubt, faith, tragedy, joy, forgiveness, marriage, family, laughter, and much, much more. Contemplating the need for authenticity in the Christian life.Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-7327417061833890132010-03-24T15:28:00.000-07:002010-03-24T15:28:50.322-07:00

I've moved my blog and hope you will follow me there. Here is the link to my new spot, frommountaintops.com I hope you will follow me there. . . -- Godspeed, Elizabeth

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-18342060434290909842010-03-10T09:37:00.000-08:002010-03-10T17:24:12.985-08:00

You are the light of the world - like a city on a hilltop that cannot be hidden. ~ Matthew 5:14, When my kids were little, I always knew when they were content and happy. They exuded joy naturally. My son would gallop instead of walk--everywhere. He would suddenly break into this little trot that sang out "I am the happiest kid in the world." My daughter would sit quietly, playing, and

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-73430846672852242872010-03-09T06:08:00.000-08:002010-03-09T06:08:37.309-08:00

I have an incredibly busy few days ahead, but wanted to share a quote from a talk by Shane Claiborne, who spoke at our church this week. Some food for thought. "How good we have become at making people feel like outsiders--of excluding the very people that Jesus magnetized . . . The walls that we build and the way we exclude should break our hearts."-- Shane Claiborne, author of The

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-71908629189634374952010-03-08T07:31:00.000-08:002010-03-11T03:34:32.129-08:00

In the season of Lent, we journey toward the cross. Today, we know the significance of that journey and where it leads: to Christ's death on the cross and the resurrection. In this journey we understand that God gave His son for us so that we might live fully in relationship with God--be restored us in our relationship with Him. I feel overwhelmed by that thought during this season. But the

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-25148864721244141302010-03-05T00:05:00.000-08:002010-03-05T08:27:09.555-08:00

When I look around at my life and everyone around me I just want to hold my arms out and say “Be still.” I over commit. At work, I teach an extra class because it provides more income. At home, I take on tasks Larry-John no longer can do. I see friends hauling kids to soccer, working full-time, and giving time to their favorite causes. Individually, the activities make sense. We benefit from

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-64547177421584926542010-03-03T23:09:00.000-08:002010-03-03T23:43:00.042-08:00

A friend asked me the other day about my blog title. So, if you are wondering . . . My son loves to climb -- rock climb and mountain climb. But, as a small child, he was so afraid of heights. I don't know what transformed him from fearful to exhilarated, but it changed his life. Climbing has brought some amazing people into his life, too. One of those people was a young man named Anthony

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-44029546220347615822010-03-02T22:19:00.001-08:002010-03-02T22:19:48.648-08:00

As a teacher, I sometimes get caught up in "teaching." Trying to figure out my lesson plans and crafting assignments that will help students learn -- learn the materials, learn to think, learn to write, revise, and edit. As part of this planning, I often think about the "professionalism" aspect of their learning, too. Are they aware of how to communicate professionally? Do they know the

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-16010518624437491152010-02-24T07:59:00.000-08:002010-02-24T08:16:27.038-08:00

I have often felt inadequate about sharing my faith. At some periods in my life I felt unsure of what I believed. Or at least not sure enough to express it verbally--without feeling like I was stumbling around stepping on my shoelaces. Always, I feared sharing my faith. I feared pushing people away. People who may be put off by my faith. People who may have been hurt by other

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-38915488039117512042010-02-17T08:47:00.000-08:002010-03-02T22:42:51.804-08:00

Sometimes my kids surprise me -- in a good way. When they were little, they shared everything with us -- the little accomplishments, the disappointments, the boo boos, their fears, their joys. I knew their hearts. I saw their creativity and their dreams and hopes, daily. They didn't hold back. As they have grown into young adults, I find comfort in seeing little glimpses of their hearts

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-33578007544911320312010-02-14T09:58:00.000-08:002010-02-14T09:58:39.138-08:00

I read a facebook post of a young married woman this morning. She was going to a movie by herself, because her husband didn't make all their plans for Valentine's Day--he just asked her, "what should we do?"--essentially leaving it up to both of them, or just him, to make the plans. She went on about how he needed to do it. If he couldn't, then they just weren't going to celebrate. She would

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-43209486124183976462010-02-13T09:14:00.000-08:002010-02-13T15:31:22.600-08:00

I sat on the blue leather sofa, gas fireplace burning, as the first light of day broke through the darkness. The house was mine at this hour. Even the dog left me alone. Time with God. Quiet. Calm. Uninterrupted. And so, I prayed, as I did so often recently, "Please God, cover him. Keep him safe. Help me to trust you." God knew that prayer was coming every day while my son was overseas

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-78277731893634946642010-02-12T06:54:00.000-08:002010-02-12T06:57:18.399-08:00

Two days ago, friends pulled a young man out of the rubble of a fallen marketplace building in Haiti. Given the recent earthquake that devastated the country, it was not unexpected, except, that it occurred 28 days after the quake. 28 days. No food. No human contact. But hope. And, faith. That young man's name was Evan Muncie. I don't go around saying out loud things like "God is present

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-30952998490739811742010-02-09T09:07:00.000-08:002010-02-13T15:53:52.800-08:00

Days can go by in which I just live. Checking off the tasks on my list of to dos -- with no real direction, except that list. Go to the store, prepare for class, coffee with Cindy, call vet. Those days seem more about the end result--the destination--not the journey. Other days I am more intentional about living the day and noticing the day, and the beauty, and the meaning, and in seeking

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-670372694529451262010-02-02T05:46:00.000-08:002010-02-14T19:09:26.829-08:00

I sat in the pews of our Church for three and a half years -- sitting upright, hardly anyone ever talking to me. Sitting and listening and praying. Feeling our pastors and elders are not accessable to the church body, except to the privileged few. I still feel that way, at least a little. While sitting and worshiping without much connection is what I wanted and needed at first, I grew to

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-20284811885784556632010-01-22T08:09:00.000-08:002010-01-22T11:39:13.479-08:00

In an email yesterday, a friend who lost her son in a climbing accident recently wrote to me the following: That dark valley of the shadow of death does say we walk through it, but we can't always see through the tears, so we are trying to hold His hand tightly. I cannot fathom what my friend is experiencing. As a mother, I fear the loss of one of my children more than anything. Those moments

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-69964707037619778682010-01-21T03:38:00.000-08:002010-02-13T07:59:03.340-08:00

Our culture makes it easy to want things now -- credit cards, no down payments on homes. We know where that has gotten us. But, we saw it in our kids, too. Wanting that item they saw on TV or that their best friend just got; asking for things while shopping because the cool packaging caught their eye. So, how do we teach kids not to impulse buy? Our recipe was simple: A piece of paper, a

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-23958693727519496522010-01-20T07:30:00.000-08:002010-01-20T07:31:18.272-08:00

I seek the thin space I find peace there God reveals himself Vulnerability envelops me For there, my heart is known I cannot hide in the pews silently There I am stripped of worldly coverings And I meet face to face Eyes and heart open I do not live in the thin space But I return here often For I long for this place In between heaven and earth

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-42461612879687582452010-01-19T19:58:00.000-08:002010-01-19T20:02:19.218-08:00

Suze Orman would be proud: Kids, Money, and Family Peace. Teaching Kids about Money: Tip Number 1 – Decide what categories of things you think your kids should have to make a purchasing decision about, give them an annual budget, and help them plan. Best thing I ever did as a parent. Here’s why. I remember dreading going to the store when my kids were young—I don’t mean infants or toddlers,

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-89184555865949719222010-01-16T17:52:00.000-08:002010-01-20T06:35:45.432-08:00

This week, the world has joined together for the people of Haiti.  The long suffering this country has endured,  turned to tragedy this week when a 7.0 magnitude earthquake struck near the capital city of Port-au-Prince.  In a country with no building codes and a poorly developed infrastructure, the devastation has been beyond my own understanding.  People buried alive in

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-31854187897637449702010-01-16T16:09:00.000-08:002010-01-20T06:36:31.617-08:00

Several years ago when my son went to summer camp, I remember thinking that when he came back he had changed.  Really changed.  I don't mean he was so filthy that I didn't recognize him or that he simply needed a bath to soak off the layers of wilderness that encased his suntanned body.  It was as if the wilderness had changed him from the inside out.  The impression sticks

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3476178238141810231.post-89249655605858831872010-01-13T11:41:00.000-08:002010-01-20T08:46:07.650-08:00

I'm adopted. I was proud of it as a kid because it made me different and people always asked me about it.  What did I know about my birth mom? Why were you adopted?  Do you have any siblings?  It was cool, at least on the surface.  I remember driving home from a trip to visit my Grandmother.  For some reason my sister, who was 22 months older and also adopted, wasn't

Annie Vhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15766971518387503493noreply@blogger.com0