This life, this world


In the past week, a lot of life has happened.

I got two different phone calls reporting engagements, and one reporting a suicide.  I had my soul fed by nourishing, true words – and I had my feelings hurt by a single thoughtless sentence.  I felt pretty and then I felt ugly and then I felt altogether invisible.  I clinked wine glasses with some of the most magical people I have ever met, and my heart nearly exploded with the joy of it all.  I laughed until I almost fell out of my chair, and then turned around to speak quiet, quavery-voiced fears to a friend.  I watched a 10-month old take a solid first two steps – and I got word that another friend’s 19-year old son, a boy I used to babysit for, was murdered.

A single painful story can be more than all of the happiness I could ever dream.  This world is not a safe place, and I am at a loss for how to move through it.



  1. Sarah on September 7, 2010 at 11:19 AM

    You keep moving. You stop and take hold of the people around you who are hurting, and you cheer with those who find joy. You move forward with the knowledge that the Lord we serve takes hold of each broken, screwed up moment and somehow, someway, finds a way to make a beautiful piece, with jagged edges that will always, always be painful. You do not turn away from the hard, you do not fix the broken, but you come alongside. You cling to the moments of joy and beauty and hope in the midst – it reminds us that this isn’t the end of the story and we don’t do any of this alone.

    But we cry too. We mourn. And we ask how we are to move forward, because we can’t do it alone.

  2. Sarah on September 7, 2010 at 11:21 AM

    Have you seen this blog:

    He spent 9 months walking from New York to Oregon. It’s been inspirational to follow his journey and though he probably isn’t updating much, right now, it’s worth going back through.

    I don’t know what to say to your post. I’m sorry about your losses and I could tell you to focus on the positive, but I simultaneously wonder whether that’s what I would do.

  3. Dani on September 7, 2010 at 11:35 AM

    Oh baby. I feel you.


  4. wrecklessgirl on September 7, 2010 at 11:40 AM

    i’m so sorry, sweets. life is yucky and terrible and we struggle through it. at times, the struggle lets up, but always maintains a taut pull until we go home to jesus. :) at least, that is the Hope–that the horror and the terror and the terribleness ends at some point. i like to think that we have a part in creating a world that’s not SO horrible to live in .. we must facilitate moments of letting-up in others lives. bless and do not curse. bless you.

  5. Whitney on September 7, 2010 at 11:54 AM

    Sweet Annie,

    Much like Sarah said, you do keep moving. You know, in the Jewish faith, part of the reason for rich tradition, and words weary with repitition is because it brings them back. You go through the motions, even when you don’t feel it, and it starts to bring you back. The keep going attitude isn’t to glaze over the loss, it’s to find a way back. These paths are foot worn, loss, death, tragedy, maybe not for you, but many people have walk these roads. And that makes somehow more horrible and maybe a little more comforting in some odd way.

    I hope that makes a little sense. And if it didn’t, well…isn’t that just life.

    Well, wishing you a bit of comfort.

  6. Amanda W on September 7, 2010 at 12:11 PM

    If you need to see more of those baby steps, you know where to find us.

    You know, you may be a new friend but you’re a loved friend nonetheless.


  7. Carin on September 7, 2010 at 1:29 PM

    I don’t know my sweet Annie.
    But I hope you keep writing about it. It is helpful to me.

    Thinking of you.

    Much love…

  8. Katie on September 8, 2010 at 6:42 AM

    I’m so sorry, Annie. I don’t have any answers either, except that you reach out to loved ones and mourn together, and then you do keep moving. (Someone I know wrote a song about this.) Love to you.

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