And, I began a new blog with my roommates about the joys of living in community, you can find that blog at
Please become my followers there!
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Blogs
I know that I still have followers on this blog, so I wanted to remind you that I have moved to
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Saturday, October 1, 2011
All is right in my world.
All is right in my world. Perhaps its small, and the accomplishments few, but today, all is right in my world. I am listening to the musical pianist piece that Holly has wanted for years to be played as she walked down the aisle. We have 18 candles lit, and no other lights. Except for the porch light, which for the first time ever is deciding to be more than a motion sensor. I am wearing spandex and socks. To my right is my big map, the one where I can see the world, and so many memories and future ideas flood my thoughts. I just finished reading an email from my dear friend Sarah who is in India, following her heart and her Lord. I just spent the whole day with my parents. At Costco. Showing them my new school. Just being in Portland. Every time I am with them, I realize how well they know me, they know how to react and respond in ways that I only wish my friends were able to. I am blessed. So, so so blessed. And with the cup of tea I am about to grab, I will say again, All is right in my world.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Sunday
My Grammy died. She just turned 86.
The last time I saw her, it was Sunday. We were having a birthday party for her. She was really tired. She kept telling me she didn't know why she felt the way she did. But, oh Heather, you look so good! Look at how tan you are, how summery you look. What are you up to? What did you do today? Where are you going when you leave? And what are you up to? She kept asking. I think she just wanted me to talk, to talk about anything. So she would not have to. So she could focus on breathing. Breathing was really hard for her, on Sunday.
She let me sit and hold her hand. It was so small in mine. Mine once fit securely in hers, and now mine was a wall caging a scared animal. I told her she could rest, if I could just sit and hold her hand. Her left hand, the one with the crooked pointer finger, it gripped mine. Her right hand shook. Her eye lids fluttered. Her beautiful eyelids. I have never seen anything more beautiful than my Grammy. I have always adored her skin, the wrinkles, the lines, the smell of lotion. And I checked, her woman hair was still there on the back of her neck, on Sunday.
I went to kiss her goodbye. She said next time I saw her, she would be feeling better.
"Oh, and honey, I love you so much."
I love you too Grammy. And I know the next time I see you, you will be feeling much better.
The last time I saw her, it was Sunday. We were having a birthday party for her. She was really tired. She kept telling me she didn't know why she felt the way she did. But, oh Heather, you look so good! Look at how tan you are, how summery you look. What are you up to? What did you do today? Where are you going when you leave? And what are you up to? She kept asking. I think she just wanted me to talk, to talk about anything. So she would not have to. So she could focus on breathing. Breathing was really hard for her, on Sunday.
She let me sit and hold her hand. It was so small in mine. Mine once fit securely in hers, and now mine was a wall caging a scared animal. I told her she could rest, if I could just sit and hold her hand. Her left hand, the one with the crooked pointer finger, it gripped mine. Her right hand shook. Her eye lids fluttered. Her beautiful eyelids. I have never seen anything more beautiful than my Grammy. I have always adored her skin, the wrinkles, the lines, the smell of lotion. And I checked, her woman hair was still there on the back of her neck, on Sunday.
I went to kiss her goodbye. She said next time I saw her, she would be feeling better.
"Oh, and honey, I love you so much."
I love you too Grammy. And I know the next time I see you, you will be feeling much better.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Girls of our house
So I live in this house. And its amazing ... the house that is. And if you have talked to me recently, you have probably heard me talk all about it, like its my baby. Like I own it.
No, I am just renting, and its not mine, I am renting it with 8 other girls, though only 6 of us live in it at a time.
I've been so caught up in everything house, that I have lacked to notice anything else. Since spring, I just dreamed and plotted towards the planting of my roots in this house. And it is a physical, material place and thing. And then we got it, but in my head, I got it. It was like I won some super loto jackpot. I did win, I won the opportunity to live somewhere, with some amazing women.
I, somehow in my ventures and descriptions and time consuming projects, honestly failed to share about the women I live with and how honored I am to call them house mates. I have been so pre-occupied with painting and decorating and cleaning mostly, that I let the relationships only one door away slip.
Life will go on if the kitchen is not wiped down. Holly reminded me tonight that I will be doing this, the house cleaning keeping thing, for the rest of my life. This is the time that I need to enjoy not being married, and that its ok to have a messy house sometimes. (Though I struggle to accept that is ok to have a whole messy house... I get the concept:) She is right. She told me that people would rather be with me than to have things put away.
I forget that. I want so terribly to make it nice, for it to be good. I want to be good. I want to be good enough, and maybe if I clean and keep house good enough, I will be good enough. But, I know that I am good enough already, hence the fact I have such amazing friends. And, this really isn't about me. This is about this house of Women, that that we get to share life together. It really is a privilege.
When I am in love with Jesus
When I am in love with Jesus. My world is just right. But I needed reminded daily.
This is the question I keep coming back to. The Holy Spirit prompts me like 20 times a day with " Right now, today, are you in love with me?"
I can't stop thinking about it. No matter how much planning I do, or organizing, I can't seem to straighten anything out in my life. No 3 step, or 10 step programs work. And when I try to find the "core" issue, I don't find it. And when I think I am crazy, and I blow everything out of proportion, I am urged again to think about whether or not I am simply in love with Jesus.
When I am in love with Jesus, everything else falls into place. Dizzy lines are straightened. The 39 step plans pan our perfectly, without having to follow any of my steps. The core issue is discovered. When I am in love with Jesus, I realize that I am not crazy, and that the very things I blow into big deals, are really not that important after all. When I am in love with Jesus.
In John 21, Jesus asks Peter three times, "Do you love me." Yes is is his frustrated response each time. Its the name of my blog, Heather Anne (that's me) Loves Jesus. Yes, I love him. But am I, in love WITH Him, today ... right now?
So often my answer is no. No, I am not being in love with Him right now. John 14:21 says that if we love Him we will follow His commandments. And 1 Corinthians tells me that love does not demand its own way. How often do I demand my own way? Away from him. Away from loving Him?
This is the question I keep coming back to. The Holy Spirit prompts me like 20 times a day with " Right now, today, are you in love with me?"
I can't stop thinking about it. No matter how much planning I do, or organizing, I can't seem to straighten anything out in my life. No 3 step, or 10 step programs work. And when I try to find the "core" issue, I don't find it. And when I think I am crazy, and I blow everything out of proportion, I am urged again to think about whether or not I am simply in love with Jesus.
When I am in love with Jesus, everything else falls into place. Dizzy lines are straightened. The 39 step plans pan our perfectly, without having to follow any of my steps. The core issue is discovered. When I am in love with Jesus, I realize that I am not crazy, and that the very things I blow into big deals, are really not that important after all. When I am in love with Jesus.
In John 21, Jesus asks Peter three times, "Do you love me." Yes is is his frustrated response each time. Its the name of my blog, Heather Anne (that's me) Loves Jesus. Yes, I love him. But am I, in love WITH Him, today ... right now?
So often my answer is no. No, I am not being in love with Him right now. John 14:21 says that if we love Him we will follow His commandments. And 1 Corinthians tells me that love does not demand its own way. How often do I demand my own way? Away from him. Away from loving Him?
When I am in love with Jesus, I need nothing else. I know love, because He is love. And I want to love the one who is Love. Right now, Today.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Summer Rain.
Oregon Summer rain is my most favorite smell in the world. Well, right next to pure almond extract. I just crawled into bed, and I heard the light plops, I rushed downstairs and onto the porch and breathed as deep as my lungs would allow, and then a little deeper.
Holly says its an oxy moron, to like Oregon summer rain, or to think its special or something. But whatever, it is what it is and I love it. Besides, its not the rain that I love (well, I do love it, but thats not what this post is about) Its about the fact that it is summer, and it is raining while its warm. And it just has this smell. Its thick, and heavy, and grass like, and wet. Wet, a terrible description I know, but it is. Its like when my nose breathes in, my nose hairs get wet in a thick damp way. Perhaps this is not of the most lovely of descriptions, but it just is. Its different than regular rain.
When I was really little, Daddy would wake me up sometimes on those summer rainy nights, so I could go outside and smell it. And I would run into the street and dance around in it. And smell. So I went outside, and I spread my arms wide, and breathed in that thick, cloudy, oregon, wet, rainy air.
Holly says its an oxy moron, to like Oregon summer rain, or to think its special or something. But whatever, it is what it is and I love it. Besides, its not the rain that I love (well, I do love it, but thats not what this post is about) Its about the fact that it is summer, and it is raining while its warm. And it just has this smell. Its thick, and heavy, and grass like, and wet. Wet, a terrible description I know, but it is. Its like when my nose breathes in, my nose hairs get wet in a thick damp way. Perhaps this is not of the most lovely of descriptions, but it just is. Its different than regular rain.
When I was really little, Daddy would wake me up sometimes on those summer rainy nights, so I could go outside and smell it. And I would run into the street and dance around in it. And smell. So I went outside, and I spread my arms wide, and breathed in that thick, cloudy, oregon, wet, rainy air.
High School
I've been thinking a lot about high school lately. How when you are in it, you think you are on top of the world. You are involved in so many activities that it makes toddlers look lazy. And how these activities that you are involved in, they are the most important thing you have ever done. That soccer game you won, it was like winning a gold medal at the Olympics, things are proportioned to be just that important! And they are. At least to you, and your friends, and your parents.
As high schoolers we get this sense that we can be or do anything we want to do. Being pushed to succeed and think upon our futures and grow up. But we don't really have to grow up too fast. We get the responsibilities of doing cool things, while not having to pay for gas or outings or late nights at Sharies, because we are too busy with our events to work. (Not that you can really find a job when you are 15 anyway...)
One of my friends from high school just re-entered my life. So it has me thinking on a lot of this stuff. The emotions from five years ago, my attitudes and views and opinions. I've found that in many ways I have not changed near as much as I thought I had. You change to form the new environment you find yourself in. But once placed back in the old environment, the old you comes back out. But rather than retracting, which I thought was happening, I am a more full person because of this. I am able to embrace my current environment, with past thoughts. And it is fulfilling.
But I was thinking about how full your future feels when your 17, how of all the things were involved in, we really think we can succeed in any of those areas. That we can make a living doing the arts or sports. We love the praise and admiration we receive, and of course that spawns us towards the career we try to pick. And then college comes.
I guess some people in college do what they set out to do. But not many. Because in the act of trying to find ourselves in high school, what we really find is all the things that we can be semi-good at. And of course we want to do those things, because its nice to feel that you are the best at something. (even if you come from a high school of 40 kids, being the best still means something:) I mean, I really wanted to do year book the rest of my life. It was so fun! It doesn't make sense now. No body looks at their yearbooks after the signing day. Yearbooks don't happen in college, or work or families or really the rest of life. But it was a good idea, because I was good at it!
"High school, High school, could be, could be, a mini me, of the rest of society..." An old Super chick song that I would blast while driving the minivan down Lancaster Street. Still quite a bit of truth in it. It was a mini me of the rest of society.
I was thinking about how high school was a good thing, at least for me. For a girl whose love language was affirmation, to receive it everywhere I turned, it was a very encouraging time. Now, at this point in my life I may not be involved in three sports, yearbook, student government and a spring play at like the same time .... but I am busy, and I am doing things. And the things I am doing, I try to do them well. Sometimes, its still nice to be extraordinary. I love looking at the girls who are in high school now. They are extraordinary people.
Alyssa and Juliana, you rock my socks off. I am so proud of you two, the things you are involved in, the things you accomplish. You are going to grow into the most amazing women! Thank you for sharing with me last week, and for letting me be a small part of your lives. Take your high school and embrace it, because it won't come again.
As high schoolers we get this sense that we can be or do anything we want to do. Being pushed to succeed and think upon our futures and grow up. But we don't really have to grow up too fast. We get the responsibilities of doing cool things, while not having to pay for gas or outings or late nights at Sharies, because we are too busy with our events to work. (Not that you can really find a job when you are 15 anyway...)
One of my friends from high school just re-entered my life. So it has me thinking on a lot of this stuff. The emotions from five years ago, my attitudes and views and opinions. I've found that in many ways I have not changed near as much as I thought I had. You change to form the new environment you find yourself in. But once placed back in the old environment, the old you comes back out. But rather than retracting, which I thought was happening, I am a more full person because of this. I am able to embrace my current environment, with past thoughts. And it is fulfilling.
But I was thinking about how full your future feels when your 17, how of all the things were involved in, we really think we can succeed in any of those areas. That we can make a living doing the arts or sports. We love the praise and admiration we receive, and of course that spawns us towards the career we try to pick. And then college comes.
I guess some people in college do what they set out to do. But not many. Because in the act of trying to find ourselves in high school, what we really find is all the things that we can be semi-good at. And of course we want to do those things, because its nice to feel that you are the best at something. (even if you come from a high school of 40 kids, being the best still means something:) I mean, I really wanted to do year book the rest of my life. It was so fun! It doesn't make sense now. No body looks at their yearbooks after the signing day. Yearbooks don't happen in college, or work or families or really the rest of life. But it was a good idea, because I was good at it!
"High school, High school, could be, could be, a mini me, of the rest of society..." An old Super chick song that I would blast while driving the minivan down Lancaster Street. Still quite a bit of truth in it. It was a mini me of the rest of society.
I was thinking about how high school was a good thing, at least for me. For a girl whose love language was affirmation, to receive it everywhere I turned, it was a very encouraging time. Now, at this point in my life I may not be involved in three sports, yearbook, student government and a spring play at like the same time .... but I am busy, and I am doing things. And the things I am doing, I try to do them well. Sometimes, its still nice to be extraordinary. I love looking at the girls who are in high school now. They are extraordinary people.
Alyssa and Juliana, you rock my socks off. I am so proud of you two, the things you are involved in, the things you accomplish. You are going to grow into the most amazing women! Thank you for sharing with me last week, and for letting me be a small part of your lives. Take your high school and embrace it, because it won't come again.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Oh to Brunch
On Saturday mornings, at 11, we have brunch. Its potluck style, you bring food to share, the hope is that we all have enough to eat. I think one week I should make crepes. Everyone is invited to brunch, if you live in Portland, or want to come to Portland, you can come.
Today we had quiche, from the left overs of our week. We might make this a tradition ... just like brunch ... and Sunday morning bread. We also had roasted potatoes, fresh fruit, and pancakes. We sat on our front porch and laughed and talked about how wonderful this is.
How its like the old days when women would sit on their porch and spy on their neighbors ... not that WE spy on our neighbors. But, FYI - the people directly across from us are CREEPY! Seriously, they wake up just to rub their disel engines at 2 in the morning, and I swear the women stands in the curtains and just stares at us when we eat at our table. We talked about how we really want to be friends with the young couple next door, their daughter scarlet is so cute! The family to our right with the teenagers are super nice, they smile and say hi each time they get home, I think we should have dinner with them. And how we really want to reach out to the family across and to the left, they have five girls and a grumpy grandpa, and they need Jesus, at least for now we can offer them chalk to play with. And the house of all men that moved in the same day as us? Its not a house of men, its a young couple, the men just moved them in. Go figure. But, like I said, its not like we spy on our neighbors.
Anyways, brunch. Sarah C. and I were sitting on the porch, the side without all the flowers. We were talking about how cool it is that were doing what we said we were going to do. There is such satisfaction in follow through, especially for me. Early back in the spring I started pretending we had the house, and I pretend invited people over for Saturday morning brunches ... but the thing is that we actually do it! We are doing brunch. We are sitting on our porch. We are playing games and reading books instead of always watching tv seasons. We are buying fresh fruit, and eating little meat, and cooking healthy food, and surviving quite well without internet. We are hosting the way our mothers thought us and decorating the ways we want.
But for right now, I think Saturday morning brunches are one of my favorite things.
Today we had quiche, from the left overs of our week. We might make this a tradition ... just like brunch ... and Sunday morning bread. We also had roasted potatoes, fresh fruit, and pancakes. We sat on our front porch and laughed and talked about how wonderful this is.
How its like the old days when women would sit on their porch and spy on their neighbors ... not that WE spy on our neighbors. But, FYI - the people directly across from us are CREEPY! Seriously, they wake up just to rub their disel engines at 2 in the morning, and I swear the women stands in the curtains and just stares at us when we eat at our table. We talked about how we really want to be friends with the young couple next door, their daughter scarlet is so cute! The family to our right with the teenagers are super nice, they smile and say hi each time they get home, I think we should have dinner with them. And how we really want to reach out to the family across and to the left, they have five girls and a grumpy grandpa, and they need Jesus, at least for now we can offer them chalk to play with. And the house of all men that moved in the same day as us? Its not a house of men, its a young couple, the men just moved them in. Go figure. But, like I said, its not like we spy on our neighbors.
Anyways, brunch. Sarah C. and I were sitting on the porch, the side without all the flowers. We were talking about how cool it is that were doing what we said we were going to do. There is such satisfaction in follow through, especially for me. Early back in the spring I started pretending we had the house, and I pretend invited people over for Saturday morning brunches ... but the thing is that we actually do it! We are doing brunch. We are sitting on our porch. We are playing games and reading books instead of always watching tv seasons. We are buying fresh fruit, and eating little meat, and cooking healthy food, and surviving quite well without internet. We are hosting the way our mothers thought us and decorating the ways we want.
But for right now, I think Saturday morning brunches are one of my favorite things.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Our House
The story of how we got this house is crazy, and long. But lets just say that God is good and gives good gifts to his children.
We spent our finals week painting. Every night painting. I think I painted for like 50 hours. I was emotionally drained, trying to cope with leaving school, moving, taking finals, and becoming an adult. And then we moved. And then it was wonderful. I said that I would feel settled when three things happened : When I could sit on my porch, when my map was up, and when all my books were in one place. Well, the night before I left to come to Colorado, to spend this week with Katie, I finished the last on that list. And for all of you who pitched in on getting me the map, thank you!!
Refill that Local Roast Please
So, here I am in Colorado. At Marika's Coffeehouse, in Manitou Springs. Katie is at work, and I spent the day wandering alone. Now, that may not seem interesting to any of the rest of you, but it is amazing. Just what I wanted and needed. I went to the park, and crossed bridges, and sat the the library built in 1910 and read about the history of this area. I wore my Portland rain jacket and my Thailand purse and walked and walked. I talked to Harmony on the phone. I found my bank. I bought some loose leaf tea and herbs for my house. Then I found this coffee shop. I just have a knack for finding the perfect coffee shop where ever I go. It is especially fun to me when I do so after the people I know who live in these places tell me there is no local cool coffee shop ... there always is! (example : Boise, La Grande, Colorado:)
I brought Northanger Abbey with me today. It is the second Jane Austin I am attempting to read. I am never able to read her, because to read her one must appreciate her and her over usage of adjectives. My brain is almost always at too fast a pace to read each word, and I end up skimming and thus loosing 92% of what she is trying to say. I choose to read a book I do not know the story line to, I didn't even read the back. And let me just tell you, Catherine Morland is a most wonderful character, and my brain is at a slow enough pace to read every word.
According to google maps, I am 1,323 miles from my house on 84th st, to this coffee shop in Manitou springs. I could have found a shop like this at home, but there is something about being 1,323 miles away that makes it so much more glorious. Knowing that I will not run into anyone I know ... and yet still feeling overwhelmingly safe.
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