No one likes you when you're 23.
That's what they told me, one year ago today.
Good thing I'm 24!
Good thing I'm 24!
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Loudest Cries
Adolescents with Gunshot Wounds.
Lord in Your Mercy.
Lord in Your Mercy.
In the Grip of God’s
Grace,
Pastor Anitta +♡
Monday, September 29, 2014
Goodbye Summer, Hello Seminary!
Well, it's that time of year again. That time of year where I begin looking for an excuse to avoid homework or reading. Coincidentally, it's also the time of year which makes me both sentimental and reflective. The post below is adapted from an article that I wrote for St. Elisabeth Episcopal.
---
Before we bid summer farewell, I would love to share with you how God has been working in my life over the past few months. Before I left for the summer break, I shared with some of you that I was having the “Summer of Anitta”. I had decided to spend the summer getting back to the basics of my relationship with God. At the beginning, the only plans that I had were to travel, journal and pray. I was definitely not prepared for the summer that God had in store for me!
In June, I took a history class in Philadelphia. I ate my first Philly cheese, I saw the 9/11 Memorial and preached in Manhattan and Gettysburg. On a YouthWorks mission trip, I served at a woman’s shelter in Greenbay, visited Lambeau and worshipped alongside 100+, 12 to14 year olds. I ran a Vacation Bible School program from start to finish, danced, sang and learned with 50+ children. I ate fish in Baltimore, crawfish in Louisiana, and camped on a beach in Florida. I swam in the ocean, visited the White House, saw Wall Street and spent more nights on an air mattress than I care to remember.
Throughout all of these experiences, I prayed and wrote in my journal. But, have you ever prayed so much and saw so little change, that you get discouraged? I went all the way to the East coast and back, twice, searching for God. Yet, I did not have that “heart strangely warmed” experience that my United Methodist colleagues speak so openly about. I had set aside a whole two months to be in relationship with God, yet, I felt as if God was not picking up the phone when I called!
In mid-August, I attended a Catechesis of the Good Shepherd training up in Proctor, Minnesota. Throughout the week, the other catechists and I spent our days engrossed in the work of the child. I learned that this work, while simple, was both beautiful and life-giving. In CGS training, I also realized that I had the mute button pressed on my metaphorical phone call with God. God had been conversing with me throughout the summer; I just had not been able to understand.
The direct aim of CGS is to foster a relationship of prayer between the child and the divine. In many ways, I feel that this was (retroactively) the direct aim of my summer as well. It turns out that I did not have to travel to the East Coast searching for God, because God is always ready to meet me right where I am. He refuses to take the backseat in our lives because He is so jealous for us. Our relationship with God is not meant to be worked on for a week or two months; like any strong relationship, it is to be attended to on a daily basis!
After the summer that I had, I am so excited to be back for another year of seminary. I am thrilled about my Chaplaincy placement. And, even more, excited to assist God in teaching our youngest! I am overcome with joy that I get to journey together with my colleagues, friends and community members in our experience of the Divine.
---
Faith and Peace,
Anitta.
---
Before we bid summer farewell, I would love to share with you how God has been working in my life over the past few months. Before I left for the summer break, I shared with some of you that I was having the “Summer of Anitta”. I had decided to spend the summer getting back to the basics of my relationship with God. At the beginning, the only plans that I had were to travel, journal and pray. I was definitely not prepared for the summer that God had in store for me!
In June, I took a history class in Philadelphia. I ate my first Philly cheese, I saw the 9/11 Memorial and preached in Manhattan and Gettysburg. On a YouthWorks mission trip, I served at a woman’s shelter in Greenbay, visited Lambeau and worshipped alongside 100+, 12 to14 year olds. I ran a Vacation Bible School program from start to finish, danced, sang and learned with 50+ children. I ate fish in Baltimore, crawfish in Louisiana, and camped on a beach in Florida. I swam in the ocean, visited the White House, saw Wall Street and spent more nights on an air mattress than I care to remember.
Throughout all of these experiences, I prayed and wrote in my journal. But, have you ever prayed so much and saw so little change, that you get discouraged? I went all the way to the East coast and back, twice, searching for God. Yet, I did not have that “heart strangely warmed” experience that my United Methodist colleagues speak so openly about. I had set aside a whole two months to be in relationship with God, yet, I felt as if God was not picking up the phone when I called!
In mid-August, I attended a Catechesis of the Good Shepherd training up in Proctor, Minnesota. Throughout the week, the other catechists and I spent our days engrossed in the work of the child. I learned that this work, while simple, was both beautiful and life-giving. In CGS training, I also realized that I had the mute button pressed on my metaphorical phone call with God. God had been conversing with me throughout the summer; I just had not been able to understand.
The direct aim of CGS is to foster a relationship of prayer between the child and the divine. In many ways, I feel that this was (retroactively) the direct aim of my summer as well. It turns out that I did not have to travel to the East Coast searching for God, because God is always ready to meet me right where I am. He refuses to take the backseat in our lives because He is so jealous for us. Our relationship with God is not meant to be worked on for a week or two months; like any strong relationship, it is to be attended to on a daily basis!
After the summer that I had, I am so excited to be back for another year of seminary. I am thrilled about my Chaplaincy placement. And, even more, excited to assist God in teaching our youngest! I am overcome with joy that I get to journey together with my colleagues, friends and community members in our experience of the Divine.
---
Faith and Peace,
Anitta.
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Sweet Nothings
"I can't stop thinking about you," he whispered into my ear.
His voice crawled around my mind, down my spine, tingling the tips of my toes.
He felt so close that I could almost shiver at his sweet breath upon my neck.
But, then I woke up.
Those faint memories of a time that I felt wanted... and for what?
For the sick game that little boys play with little girls.
Crushing their hearts, teaching them the subtle art of not feeling.
Making this pain an unavoidable outcome to a game.
We never chose to play.
Yet, here we are.
Those little girls grew up to be bitter women, better women.
We've learned to change the game.
And, you wonder why you're sitting alone on a Friday night?
Because, those bitter better women don't have time for the 'nice guy'.
Those bitter better women are making up for all the lost time.
The times when they, when we, felt unwanted, unseen in the dance line.
And, we know we weren't your first choice.
But, it's okay because as long as I'm getting laid I can pretend like I'm not bitter.
I can pretend that you didn't matter.
And, during the day it's easy to stave off loneliness.
But, my dreams have become nightmares.
Your voice creeps in like a sweet melody.
Music to my ears, slowly suffocating me.
Yet, there's no where I'd rather be,
As long as the promise of death
Comes with the remembrance of your sweet smell, lingering beside me.
As you whisper into my ear, "I can't stop thinking about you."
His voice crawled around my mind, down my spine, tingling the tips of my toes.
He felt so close that I could almost shiver at his sweet breath upon my neck.
But, then I woke up.
Those faint memories of a time that I felt wanted... and for what?
For the sick game that little boys play with little girls.
Crushing their hearts, teaching them the subtle art of not feeling.
Making this pain an unavoidable outcome to a game.
We never chose to play.
Yet, here we are.
Those little girls grew up to be bitter women, better women.
We've learned to change the game.
And, you wonder why you're sitting alone on a Friday night?
Because, those bitter better women don't have time for the 'nice guy'.
Those bitter better women are making up for all the lost time.
The times when they, when we, felt unwanted, unseen in the dance line.
And, we know we weren't your first choice.
But, it's okay because as long as I'm getting laid I can pretend like I'm not bitter.
I can pretend that you didn't matter.
And, during the day it's easy to stave off loneliness.
But, my dreams have become nightmares.
Your voice creeps in like a sweet melody.
Music to my ears, slowly suffocating me.
Yet, there's no where I'd rather be,
As long as the promise of death
Comes with the remembrance of your sweet smell, lingering beside me.
As you whisper into my ear, "I can't stop thinking about you."
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