Hannah's Heartstrings

I have read stories from women whose men were overseas for six months to a year or more. They would talk about getting calls from their loves, seeing their faces on webcams, getting letters and any other form of contact as if it were the most incredible thing in the world. They gushed over the tiniest bit of contact or any little reminder of their love.

For the longest time, I didn't get it. Sure I thought it was cute and all. The romance of it touched my heart. But I didn't understand the depth of it.

I understand it now.

I know how one little message can make my heart sing for days. Just a few minutes of conversation feels like heaven. Days are counted and marked off, and every day that goes by is one day closer to homecoming.

I understand it now.

Everything matters. Everything.

I've written about how it takes a hero to truly capture a guy's heart. But in reading the comments on my post, and thinking further, I realized something was missing from my thoughts. Or rather the expression of my thoughts...the thought was there, I just forgot to say it.

It takes a hero to capture the heart of the girl. But what does it take to capture the heart of the hero?

We as girls have the tendency to forget the fact that guys have hearts too, and very tender ones at that. They are courageous and tough...and easily touched deeply, though different than girls are used to. We get caught up in the admiration of a man protecting a girl's heart, and while this *is* indeed admirable and right, what about the girl protecting the guy's heart? That thought is a little harder, since it is the man's job to protect. But I'm thinking there's something in this for the girl as well. Who's to say a girl's heart is the only one that needs protecting?

A man can be the hero of a woman's heart, but heroism is not a one way street. A woman has to want a hero. She has to need a hero. She has to be capture-able (you can still be a lady-in-waiting and not be hiding away in your tower). And above all, she has to be willing to capture his heart.

Men's hearts are tough, brave, kingly, visionary, and everything else they need to be men. But beyond that rough exterior is a soft, vulnerable, easily touched, easily broken center. It takes a heroine to see this.

It takes a heroine to capture, touch, nurture, protect and even fight for the heart of a hero. And it takes a silent, admiring heroine to keep that heart heroic.

I was first introduced to Pesto when my friend Michele C. gave us some with her homemade bread. We ate way too much of the wonderful stuff. :) As my diet changed over the past 2 years, I found that I could not eat Pesto in its original form (parmesan cheese, basil, garlic, olive oil, basil). So my mom discovered that our local Whole Foods Co-op (where she and my brother Charlie work) makes and sells a Spinach Pesto that was perfectly clean! She was able to get the recipe, and after a bit of tweaking, I came up with this recipe. It's ctill very true to the original, but my process is a bit different, and I always aim for a different texture and taste that what you would get at WFC.
But without further ado...here is the recipe for Spinach Pesto.


Spinach Pesto

Baby spinach
walnuts or almonds, chopped fine
garlic, fresh or powdered
lemon juice

I dearly love doing the themed blog carnivals that YLCF does from time to time. However I must say that this one had me stumped for a little bit. My passion? What am I most passionate about? And what's more, how do I communicate it?

The first two things that popped into my head were writing and photography. Two things I very much love.

Writing is like air for me. There are many days I feel I cannot live without writing *something*. I write what I cannot find the words to speak. I relieve stress and tension through forming letters with my pen or typing. I thrill at being able to describe my world, to pour out my heart, to share my thoughts and communicate with others. Yes, I am definitely passionate about writing.

Photography. Now there is a recently discovered love. Since I cannot draw or paint and at times words fail me, I needed a different avenue for capturing the beauty of the worl I see. I found the camera. Nothing fancy; just a slightly upscale Nikon point-and-shoot. Even in its simplicity, it opened a door for me. Suddenly all the things I could not describe were captured forever in still images. I could show the world the things I loved. I began to shadow other photographers and study their technique, hoping to perfect my own. I am still a work in progress, but yes, photography is a passion I possess.

Then I began to think about the other passions that fill my heart. Anyone who ever talks to me will know my passion for healthy food. My love for organics and my super-vegan status makes my life more than interesting where food is concerned and I'm always eager to share it with people. Then there's my love for dancing...I always wanted to take tap dancing or ballet as a child, but was far too shy to dare trying it. So when I was introduced to English Country Dancing---the kind I could to with a group of friends and never alone---I fell in love. I've learned anything I could of it and other forms of dance in the past three years and still don't know enough or experience it enough.
I suppose you could say traveling is a passion I have. Not much thrills me more than packing my bag and jetting off to some new place...so long as that place is filled with people I love. Maybe its the people that are my passion.

But none of this seems to answer my question. What am I *most* passionate about? Actually the answer lies a little deeper than the "things" that make my heart beat. It's the "Who" that makes these things worth being passionate about.

If you look at the tag cloud on my blog, you'll notice that the biggest tag is the one for GOD (next biggest is "poetry"). I love that.

Simply put, God is my biggest passion.

He permeates my writings, gives me words to write and in the reason I write.

He is the Creator of the beautiful things I see and wish to capture with my camera.

I've heard dance described as a form of worship, and I heartily agree. When my heart is so full of my Savior, my feet sometimes can't help but express it.

My love for healthy food stems from my need to heal my body of several very trying health problems, which, if left attended, have the tendency to interfere with being able to live a vibrant life in which I may serve and be a witness for Him. I need to be strong and through Him I can be.

I am most passionate about my God, my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. He is my all in all. He is the reason I can fill my life with all the other things and people that make my heart sing. With His help, He can shine through all I do in the small and glorious life that I have been privileged to live.

~Hannah McMichael

Deep in the heart of every girl, whether she admits it or not, she longs for a hero. She wants to be swept off her feet by the dashing, courageous prince charming. She wants to be the princess that her man will fight for. She wants to touch that brave and wild heart of gold with own tender, beautiful one.

Every girl wants a hero.

Nice guys are attractive at first. A girl is flattered by the man that is willing to lay down everything for her and trails her like a love-sick puppy. But something happens when a girl really listens and is honest with herself The man that captures her heart is the hero, the honest one that can stand on his own, can lead her lovingly and only lays his heart on the line, saying that is who he is, by God’s grace.

Despite what they all may say, every girl looks for a hero and every guy wants to be the hero she finds. It is written so deeply in our hearts that none of us can ever truly get away from it. Nice guys and nice girls are safe and good, but they are dying and shallow inside. The heroes are the ones we love and remember. They are who we all want to be and who we are really inside. We need heroism or else it would not permeate the stories we love.


Hannah McMichael
10-13-2011
Part of my thoughts on why Mr. Darcy of Pride and Prejudice is so popular.

"I've got my memories
Always in side of me
But I can't go back,
Back to how it was..."

It's all forward from here. So much has changed. I have changed. Where I've come from has shaped me into who I am now. But there's no going back. What was is past. This is now and this is beautiful.

"Belief over misery
I've seen the enemy
And I won't go back
Back to how it was..."

Some have tried to stop me, to prevent me from getting here. I've gone down the wrong paths and had to back up further than where I started. I've been blinded by false whispers disguised as truth, and waylaid by villians disguised as heroes.

"Created for a place I've never known...
This is home,
Now I'm finally where I belong...
This is home,
I've been searching for a place of my own
This is home..."

I always tried to imagine my story. How would it end? Who would still be in it? Where would I be? How would it begin? But this, I never could have imagined. Instructed in honesty, rescued by real heroes, lifted to my feet by the truest of companions, I've found where I belong. A place a never knew existed, people I never expected. This is home, indeed.

"I've got a brand new mindset
I can finally see the sunset,
I'm gonna call it home..."

(Song lyrics from "This is Home" by Switchfoot)

~Hannah McMichael

It’s the silliness of his Facebook picture being one of you,
Knowing that you’re both counting the days ‘till you say “I do”.
It’s the missing, waiting and the longing that makes your heart sing,
And the look in his eyes that makes you proud to be the girl that wears his ring.

It’s the sound of his voice when he says your name along with “I love you”,
It’s the smile he gives you that lets you know this dream is coming true,
It’s the love you share that flows around every tiny little thing,
And remind you just how blessed you are to be the girl that wears his ring.

It’s your future with him that’s waiting, full and silent and untold,
It’s the promise that you’ll give him with a shiny band of gold
Knowing, with God, you’ll make it through whatever life may bring
By everyday remembering why you’re the girl that wears his ring.

(for Nicole Cason who will marry David Hegstad on June 2, 2012)
By Hannah McMichael
Sept. 28, 2011

“It is who you are, not just what you do.” –Reb Bradley

Josh Harris recently posted an article by Reb Bradley entitled “Homeschool Blindspots”. It has hit homeschool circles like wildfire. I was no exception to those that read it and reposted it.

I told my friend and Auntie Lisa that I felt empty after reading the article. I couldn’t explain it at first, but I felt drained, as if something was being pulled from me and I was desperately trying to hang on.

I realized that many of the things that Mr. Bradley was hitting on were things I had experienced in my own life. I was “sheltered” to an extent (no TV for a time, only listening to hymns, etc.). I related to the section on judging (I had quite the attitude against women who wore pants or anyone that wasn’t homeschooled during different seasons of my life). Several points he made hit me smack in the heart. He was making these things sound horrible and I was not ready to give them up. I lived some of that. That was a part of who I was and who I became. And when someone tries to tell me that that part of me was wrong, my defense goes up.

My childhood experience in the conservative homeschool world was near as severe as Reb Bradley described in his article. And I loved it. If I had to do it over again, I’d want to be raised exactly the same way. It molded me into the person I am today. And it’s a part of me that will always remain.

Homeschooling isn’t the problem. Being conservative isn’t the problem. Courtship isn’t the problem. The people are the problem! We get is stuck in our thick brains that one process or way of life is more holy than another and then can’t understand why someone in our family fall off the bandwagon.

It’s not the word that’s important. It’s the idea, the mindset. Nothing was ever wrong with wanting something better for our children. It only became wrong when we made idols of such words as homeschooling and courtship.

Let’s go back to why people first fought for the right to homeschool. They wanted to give their kids a better education, a better social life and a better opportunity to serve God than what they could find in the public or private schools.

Fast forward thirty years and that’s exactly what I want for my children, only I want for them a better homeschool experience than what I had. I don’t even know what that might be, maybe one without silly inside jokes or one with a different kind of social life. I don’t know, its just what I desire.

But that’s not important. The words matter little if God is not behind them. Arguing whether homeschooling is better or not, or if homeschoolers are damaged by sheltering or not, really is a waste of time.

I was glad that Reb Bradley ended his article with the answer to the “problems” be described: Win your child’s heart. Cultivate a relationship with each of them. Turn their hearts towards God, not toward a formula. Instill in them a love and desire for God’s word.

The rest is up to God. Give your children the tools they need and let them choose how to use them. Encourage, pray and leave the result up to him.


Hannah McMichael
September 14, 2011

As I look back through the pages of my life
I see pieces marked with joy and some with strife
The hurt seems to stand out so much further than I’d like
It never fully goes away, though I always wish it might

But then I see
Someone smiling at me

And in a moment I’d go back down every broken road
I’d relive all the places that I chose to go
Through every single year
I’d cry every single tear
There’s nothing I would change
Nothing I would rearrange
I’d go through every heartache, every let down, every doubt and fear
I would do it all again because it brought me here.

by Hannah McMichael
Sept. 4, 2011

The choices you’ve made have brought you here
The consequence fills your heart with fear
You searched for love in all the wrong places
Instead you found hurt wearing all love’s faces
You’re left with a flower, bruised but still living
You cry when you think of the life that you’re giving

So much is lost, but something is found
A decision waits in your hands right now
So much is at stake; will you stand or run?
Do you have what it takes to finish what you’ve begun?
More will be lost in saving your pride
I know you are scared, but don’t run and hide

There’s still time to fix this; you’re not at the end
You don’t have to take the first choice the world sends
Come what may, you have the chance to do what’s right
You have the chance to save one innocent life
The hardest thing you may ever do, this one thing you can give
No matter what you’ve done in life, please let your baby live

by Hannah McMichael

I came to three rather prominent conclusions today.

1. Sometimes I really hate internet chat. It is so hard to decipher people's feelings and thoughts through typed messages. Its so much easier when you're able to see their faces and hear their voices. Online chat can be the best thing in the world, but there are times when it frustrates me to no end.

2. Sometimes I really envy men's ability to only think of one thing at a time. It can be a real burden to always be thinking of a dozen things all at once, and not be able to put thoughts out of my mind that I'd rather not think about. My mind can't rest. Its always going, going, going. I've tried very hard to only focus on one thing at a time. I can't. Don't get me wrong...multi-tasking is helpful. Just tiring.

3. I think I talk too much, in spite of the people that think I am really quiet and don't talk enough. You can't imagine how many times I think "Man, me and my big mouth. Why, oh why, did I say that??"

There you have it. Three thoughts from my weird and crazy mind.

My heart bathed in peace
I smiled to myself
And felt
A strange sensation.
Something was gone
But I hadn’t missed it.
Everything was right
Yet something was lost.

Then in hit me
Like the sun’s brightness as it breaks the dawn,
I am not afraid.
I am not afraid.

I should be, for there is so much to be scared of.
But my fear is gone.
Nothing can shake me.
I fear nothing.
I am not afraid.

The Word of God has gently whispered to my heart.
“Fear not.”
My heart whispers in return. “Yes, Lord.”
My fears melt away
Slowly
Silently
Until I am struck by the knowing that
I am not afraid.
My God is for me. What can man do to me? My God is bigger than anything I fear. What shall separate me from the Love of Christ? Shall tribulation, poverty, loneliness, hunger, confrontation, pain, illness, worry, anger, wars?
I am persuaded.
My God shall overcome all.
My God holds me in the palm of His hand.
Nothing shall separate me from His love.
And I am not afraid
I am not afraid.
I am not afraid.
I AM NOT AFRAID!

The past attempts to weigh me down
As fears would grip my heart.
I almost missed what was right in front of me
All for looking at my own scars.
Giving up what I couldn’t hold;
I’d wanted something that wasn’t true.
A new dance was there, I almost didn’t see;
Forgiving myself was the least I could do.
Simple enough, just pick up and move on---
Why had I never done this before?
Learn from my mistakes, but don’t let them be chains;
There’s so much to life, oh! So much more!
Ther right words, the right time,
Like one glorious fairy tale.
Giving me the freedom and strength,
To more than conquer and prevail.
I turn my back on my broken road
And watch the one before me shine.
Fears and struggles will come, I know
But glory is revealed in this life of mine.

By Hannah McMichael

I am scared
I am small
Far beyond my comfort zone
I pray and
I dream
Stand shaking all on my own

I’ve made every move that I dared
I’ve stepped out do much further than before
I open my hands and painfully wait
No way to do less, no way to do more

Am I in the right scene?
What’s my next line?
It’s dark out now
Am I doing this right?
Are my tears in vain?
Are my worries unjust?
Is there still more I need
In learning to trust?

So much is at stake
One wrong move
One wrong step
And all I lose

Dancing on glass
Forward and back
To far, too close?
Too much, not enough?

I don’t know the next part
This is strange and foreign ground
I don’t know what else to do
Besides wait like always before

I’m not supposed to doubt
Or fear
Or worry
But I will never be strong enough to surrender without crying.
I am not big enough to dream without fearing.
The faith and love of my Lord is carries me through, because my faith quivers.

Everything strives to discourage me,
To tell me I hope in vain. But…

The Voice of Truth tell me
Your Blessings come in disguise.
So While I’m Waiting, Broken and Spilled Out,
I’ll Stand.
I Worship You
for You are My All in All.
I am a flower quickly fading,
but Great Are You, Lord.
Everything rides on Hope Now,
So, Jesus, Bring the Rain.
I Will Follow, No Matter What,
With Arms Wide Open,
Sweetly Broken, holy surrender.

By Hannah McMichael

I am weird in more ways than one, but I am weird for a good reason. It has taken me two years to get to where I am now and you couldn’t pay me to turn around and go the opposite way. I enjoy this sane, peaceful, balanced and almost powerful feeling way too much to go back.

I am many things…gluten-free, corn-free, blood-type-diet-follower (for the most part) and vegetarian (ovo-vegetarian to be precise). I am also an herb freak, somewhat of a hippie, and I strive to eat organic. We won’t go into me conservative-homeschooler-ness just now; my odd eating habits are enough to keep anyone amused. :)

This wasn’t just some off-the-wall decision. I was not influenced by peer pressure or religiosity. This was 100% based on the health of my body, the sanity of my mind, and the gripping fears of my heart.

This is the whole story. Chronologically, in the best detail as I can remember, here is what happened:

Sometime around 2001-02: I began experiencing “twitches”. At first they were just annoying; I would jump involuntarily, my eyes would flutter and I would lose concentration for a moment, particularly in the morning sunlight. I just ignored for quite a while.

July 2009: Part of my family and I were planning on going to Tennessee for the weekend. The day before we left, I ate a ton of microwave popcorn (which we didn’t attribute to my problems until much later). The morning we were supposed to leave, my dad had an asthma attack. I woke up at 4am, thinking we were going to be late leaving, and found out my dad was sick so we couldn’t go. For all reasons considered (early morning, popcorn the night before, upset, and bad time of the month for me), I experienced what my mom called a “petite mal seizure”.
There began the long haul of finding out what was wrong with me. I praise God every day that my parents did not take me to the hospital that night. If they had, I would have been put on medication and would now be dealing with being a “vegetable”.

August 2009: I had some incentive to figure out what my problems were, because I intended on taking a trip to Colorado with my brother for a homeschool reunion. So by my mother’s advice, I went gluten-free. Unfortuately that was only the tip of the iceberg. I ate some things I shouldn’t have during the trip and did experience some twitching.

October 2009: A couple weeks before another homeschool trip, this time planned with friends, I woke up in the middle of the night and experienced another seizure. In the morning after, I woke up with no recollection of what happened except for the very beginning. The skin around my eyes was covered in broken blood vessels, and my tongue was bruised on the end. It took me nearly a week to recover. This time I figured out two things: I was extremely sensitive to corn and I was made worse when people coddled and doted over me.

February 2010: My family discovered “The Blood Type Diet”. Since my parents knew their types, my siblings and I got tested to find out ours and we gave it a shot. It made the most sense we’d ever heard. And what did we have to lose? Feeding my blood sounded crazy, but it was worth the try. I was willing to try almost anything.
I noticed marked improvement with my struggles, but even more incredible was that my dad’s asthma decreased almost 100% in three days.

I focused on “doing the diet” for the next year. During that time, we discovered the methylcobolamin form of vitamin B-12. My dad took it for energy and his asthma, initially. Then one day I took it and felt immensely better. It has since become my life saver and best friend. :)
I still experienced minor “twitchings”, but mostly during my time of the month, either the week before, during, or the week after. So long as no one paid attention to me (make me upset or nervous), I was generally okay. This was hard because my family worried about me and wanted to help me. It was hard for them to understand that the only was to help me was by not helping me.

So a year passed as I added, removed and discovered many things in my food life. It was about 50-50 split between rewarding and frustrating. I would jump for joy at finding something I could eat or after having a particularly good month. And I would cry in anger and fear during a bad time when I couldn’t control my twitches and couldn’t figure out what else to do.

I prayed everything I could think of; “God, please heal my body!” “Lord Jesus, I can’t do this alone. Please conquer whatever is happening to me.” “God, show me what to do!” and on and on. I knew in my heart that my prayers for healing were foolish. That was not what I needed. God knew I needed this journey, this story. Little by little, I found the tools that led to my healing.

June 2011: I became a vegetarian. I still eat eggs, so I am not a hard-core vegan. I truly believe that this was the final key to my healing. This, next to the B-12 methylcobolamin, made the biggest difference in my body. I had never felt better. I was even able to spend a week in Chicago, eating not a whole lot of food, running on less sleep than normal and during a time of the month that had previously given me trouble.

It sure felt like a miracle to me.

I am strongly of the opinion that, had I gone to a medical doctor with my problems, I would have been diagnosed with some sort of neurological disorder/disease. I was heavily immunized as a child and I do believe that damaged my nerves and cause my intolerance to so many foods. The biggest benefit of my favorite vitamin, B-12 methylcobolamin, is that it repairs myelin, the sheath that protects nerve cells.

And so, my B-12 is repairing my damaged nerves and my food life is strengthening the rest of my body.

Right now, I feel invincible, even though I know I’m not. I still slip up. I still get angry, scared to death and incredibly frustrated. I confess to nearly bursting into tears in the Whole Foods Market in Chicago when I found veggie chips that I could actually eat. Then didn’t I eat the wrong ones and suffered a feverish neck and headache later that evening.

I’ve learned to be incredibly creative in the kitchen. If I’m hungry for something, I figure out how to make it, or else go without. I’ve found I can survive for days on lettuce, apples and water.
Being a vegetarian is quite helpful too. People understand it better, and nod compassionately when I tell them, rather than staring blankly when I say “I’m allergic to corn, wheat, gluten, pork, beef, and I follow the blood type diet.” Maybe I should just start saying “I’m allergic to food.” That would be about 75% true.

To be honest, I don’t mind if people poke fun (gently) at my oddness. If I didn’t laugh at this, I would be in tears all the time.

This is not about my own self-satisfaction or anything. This is about me being able to function normally and live a beautiful, vibrant life. I want the sanity and strength to be able to live my absolute best for God, and if it means giving up the fleshly freedom of being able to eat anything on the planet, then so be it. There is huge comfort in eating my little salad and knowing that I don’t have to worry about my brain short circuiting on me the next morning. If the worst thing I have to do in life is say “No” to the food everyone else is eating, then I will be blessed beyond my comprehension.

As a young woman who prays for the opportunity to be a wife and mother someday, I came to the realization that I hold the future in my hands. During my “twitching episodes”, I would often involuntarily drop whatever I was holding in my hands. What if I did that when I was holding a baby? That alone was enough incentive for me to do whatever I needed to do in order to heal myself.

I know the story isn’t over. I think I’ve found all the keys, but who knows? There could be one more thing out there that makes my life even better.

I am so thankful to my Lord Jesus Christ for the opportunity to live in this age with its superiority of knowledge in all things healthwise. I praise Him for my family who keeps me going in the right direction, for the friends who encourage me and keep me laughing, and for everyone who has given me even the smallest bit of information.

My prayer is that God will use my journey to help someone else discover their full potential in a complete, vibrant and balanced lifestyle.

Romans 8:18 & 37, “For I reckon that the sufferings of this present times are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us…Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us.”

July 16-21, 2011
Rolling Meadows, IL


Words always fail me when I attempt to describe what touches my heart so deeply. I could use every beautiful adjective in the English language and it still wouldn't cut it.

The majority of my family and I put a thousand miles on our minivan traveling to Chicago and back for the greatest Bible conference I've been to yet. Grace Impact outdid themselves and I have no doubt that the 2011 conference will go down in history.


I got to hear some wonderful speakers: Matt Walker, Bryan Ross, Ted Fellows, Richard Jordan, Des Strydom, John Verstegen, just to name a few. I was thrilled to be learning the information these great men put together for us and thankful for them sharing their knowledge. I was determined not to miss a session as long as I was there, and didn't (although I did walk in a few minutes late a couple times).


Not only did I spend a week immersed in God's word, I also got to spend time with some of my dearest friends and meet some new ones...
Kyle Fellows (our Marine friend who is always an awesome source of conversation and fellowship), Curt Fellows (who keeps me in stitches and didn't want to sit next to me), The Peters Family (my longtime Canadian friends/adopted family), The Luethge sisters (we were continually searching for one of them), Jazmin Rodriguez (the dear sweet girl I sadly did not get to spend enough time with), Matt Walker (fellow Eriean!), Charlie and Rochelle McQuillian, Rita Bauschard, Amy Fellows (so glad to officially meet and man, you sure got me addicted to Bananagrams!!), Debbie Collins and all the others I'm for some reason I'm failing to mention.


You may wonder what I thought of Chicago. Well as cities go, its' pretty cool, famous, huge and slightly scary. Truth be told, I didn't go to Chicago to see Chicago. I went to see the people that were IN Chicago. It could have been Timbuktu for all I cared.


Therefore, my memories consist of the people I was privileged to fellowship with.
Here's some of them:

-Seeing some of my favorite friends and meeting new ones.
-Getting to talk about GenerationNEXT on the stage briefly and with several people afterwards.
-Visiting the Miller family on Monday at their home nearby.
-Playing Ninja with Kyle, Em'Lee and Kylah. (Thanks you guys!)
-Looking at Afghanistan pictures with Kyle.
-The Family picnic.
-Surviving the almost 100-degree heat by remembering that at least we weren't over in Afghanistan with 90lbs of gear on our backs, on patrol and getting shot at.
-Taking pictures and video. So many great opportunities!
-SO much conversation!!! My throat was honestly sore from talking...and I even did more listening!
-I don't think I stopped smiling all week. :)
-I had been up quite early each day, until Wednesday when I overslept an hour and a half past when I wanted to be up, which made me late for the first session. So that night, Kyle offered to come pound on our door the next morning so I'd be up. I managed to be up before he came, but we had him come in and wake the boys up too. Imagine their surprise to find a Marine at the foot of their bed at 5am!! So thanks to Kyle, I made it to the morning session early. :D
-Watching Ted Fellows and Ed Yarber lead singing with Marvin Taylor specially on the song "Glory I'm Saved!" was incredibly special!! There was so much energy on that stage, I almost forgot to sing while watching. :)


I honestly could go on and on. Each day held so may moments that brought me near to joyful tears. I laid in bed each night, just grinning at the beauty and goodness I was seeing.


Saying goodbye is always hard for me. We left between sessions, so I didn't get to say goodbye to some people. I hugged Rita, the Luethge's, Curt, Jazmin, Matt and Kyle before running out the door. We weren't even out of the parking lot when I started crying. I spent the trip home looking at the almost 500 pictures and videos on my camera and reading Jazmin's and Kyle's notes in my autograph book and eating veggie chips. :)


I was terribly sad to leave the people I love so dearly, but euphorically happy to have been able to spend near a week in their presense.


I can say it was wonderful, beautiful, more than my wildest dreams. But the only description that comes even close is this: it was Heavenly.

The following entries are my heartthrobs over the past couple days, dealing with fear and realizing something about my life.


July 9, 2011

I am such a fearful creature. I am afraid of so much. I fear, most of all, confrontation, broken bones, house fires and romance. The first three, I often have good reasons to fear. But romance...yeah. Now that is where I confuse myself. I think it is actually myself that I am afraid of. Roamnce is something I want so much and long for. I've been burnt a few times, so I am afraid to say or show how I feel...
I am so afraid.
I fear that what I want isn't real, and that I dream too big.
I am afraid that my world may fall apart at any moment and all that I love will slip through my fingers.

"But the voice of truth tells me a different story
The voice of truth says do not be afraid
The voice of truth says this is for My glory
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe
The voice of truth."
(Casting Crowns)

I need to listen to that song more often.
God, I cannot ask that you take away my fear. I can ask that you give me the strength to conquer the things that I fear and believe in your voice that tells me you have it all under control. You will make my biggest dreams come true in far more glorious ways than I can imagine them.


July 10, 2011

Perhaps I set my heart too high on earthly things. My affections, I see, for the things of this world are too deep. How much I treasure my possessions, my relationships, my time here! What if I had to live without the things I cherish so much? I take a look back at the things I fear. Why do I fear them?
I fear house fires mostly because I do not want to lose the things I have put so much of myself into, most of all, my writings.
I fear broken bones because I fear the pain it would bring to my earthly body.
I fear confrontation because it threatens the relationships I hold so dear.
I fear romance---well, for two reasons really, I fear that I may never experience it, and I fear myself for all the reasons I mentioned before.
So really, my fears are all based on my own fleshly, earthly affections. The only true thing I have to be afraid of is the condition of my soul, and because I know that my hope is in Heaven and my salvation is secure, I have nothing to fear.

I have to keep reminding myself that this is not fiction. this is my story, but this is reality. I have the free will to choose my own plot, but I am not in control. And I cannot change my story once it's been written, nor can I abandon it and start over. This is the only story I am going to get. And the people in my story are real. I cannot mess around with them like the characters in my fictitious scribblings. This is real and its all I am going to get. I have to make the most of it and not waste it or mess it up.
Here there is no delete, no backspace, no eraser. Its all forward from here. I have one chance to write this correctly. God, help me not blow it.

~Hannah

"Incompleteness is not the result of being single, but of not being full of Jesus. Only in the process of reckless abandonment to Jesus does any woman ever finally understand that, in Him, she is complete. When two 'incomplete' singles get married, their union will not make them complete. Their marriage will be simply two 'incomplete' people trying to find completeness in one another. Only when they understand that their fullness is found in a relationship with Jesus will they ever begin to complement one another. They can never complete one another. You were not created to complete one another, but to complement. Completion is Jesus' responsibility and complementing is a woman's privilege. A woman not complete in Jesus will be a drain on her husband. Such a woman will expect her husband to fill the gap that only Jesus can fill. Only the single woman who understands this means of being complete in Jesus is mature enough to be a helpmeet (complement).
"...Are you feeling full yet? Ask the Lord right now to begin this process of revealing yo your heart the reality of your fullness in Him. 'But it is good for me to draw near to God...' (Psalm 73:28a KJV)."

So I wrote this a couple months ago, and just finally got around to posting it. :D Back story: I have a huge heart for adoption and have dreamt several times about a little girl. She's always the same...about 2 years old and blonde. I never know her name, but I know that I've adopted her. So this was something I wrote to my unknown little girl...


My Little Darling
By Hannah McMichael
4-19-11

Somewhere
A baby girl cries cause there’s no one to hold her
She falls asleep unloved and alone
Two brilliant eyes clouded with tears
All for just wanting to be loved and home
I wish I could reach her
And say to her heart…

My little darling
I will find you someday
I will hold you in my arms
And I will know your name
Hold on, my sweet love
I promise I’ll find you
I will bring you home
My little darling, someday

Foolish heart, where have you gone?
Why have you been running so long?
Wisdom told you not to go
Instead you chose
To follow false and silent whispers.
Foolish heart, now you pay the price
One that was loved, now one that is despised
Now you learn
Now you turn and lift your teary eyes to look for love.

And now the question burning lingers
As salty drops run through my fingers
Am I worthy? Is there still a chance?
Might I be taught one brand new dance?
This is where it matters, this is where it starts
The pathway to a beautiful heart.
To see past the guilt of my tear-stained soul
To have what was broken be made new and whole.
I wait breathlessly and watch at my door
For something so long I’ve been waiting for.
I question my worth, I question myself
It’s all led to nothing---am I worth nothing else?
I step back in shyness. What can I do?
What I want most in life may never come true.

My foolish heart is content, although it has strayed
This isn’t impatience. Its just being afraid.

Lord in Heaven, help me be deserving.
Restore my heart’s beauty and make me worthy of what I desire.

By Hannah McMichael
June 17, 2011

So many voices
So many demands
How do I feel? And what do I think?
Faces pressing in around me
Waiting for my next move
“What next? What now?
Make your decision fast, girl.”
I strive to hold a standard
Amidst voices demanding my reasons
Trying to get me to doubt
Trying to make me question what I know is right.
I cannot please everyone,
Hard as I try.
There are limits to what I can say
And the things I can do.
Without them, I would fall apart.
They want me to lead
They want me to follow
And decide how I feel all at once.
I am not Superman
You cannot expect so much of me
Because you will be disappointed.
I am human
I am fallible.
That is why I depend on God.
I cannot make life-changing decisions at the drop of a hat
And even leaders cry.

So many voices seek
To challenge me
To make my convictions seem wrong
Because they hold ones different.
They believe I don’t respect them
But what they do not see
If that I must respect myself
Before I can respect anyone else.
How can I respect anyone,
How can I value, love and care for anyone
If I disregard everything I believe in?
As the poet said,
“I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved not I honor more.”

Within the raging winds that blow,
In the middle of the storm that
Wishes to knock me down,
Through the false judgments, misconceptions,
I plant my feet
I choose to stay strong
I will lead while I am needed
I will follow no matter the consequences.

Whether or not my convictions make sense
To the voices trying to derail me,
This is who I am
This is my heart
This is my soul
This is my life
Love me or leave,
But do not try to change me.

~Hannah McMichael
June 4, 2011

(So…as my last post was a ranting, raving bit of words that were probably too harsh, I shall go back to being sweet and flowery here…)

What a month! God is so infinitely good.

I have just two of the most glorious weekends of my life.

May 13-15 held the first ever GenerationNEXT Retreat, here in Pennsylvania, and despite my worries and rattling nerves, it was smashing success. I wrote about it before, so I won’t get all mushy over it again now. :P I’m just still tickled pink that it all worked out as good as it did. Nearly enough to keep my hyped up for a long time!

I didn’t even bother unpacking everything from the Retreat, because two weeks later, I got to go the Ohio Grace Ministries Great Lakes Bible Conference in Wilmot Ohio! I got to listen to some wonderful speakers, meet amazing new people, build friendships, even to play Ninja and dance! :D I filled a dozen or more pages in my book with notes from the sessions, and each time wished I could write faster because I missed so many things. I was even in tears at one point over the pure awesomeness of our God, and how He laid little mysteries in the Bible that prove His infinity. The energy in the room was overpowering. The messages were incredible. I left so filled up and encouraged and strengthened; honestly, how anyone could have not felt the power and uplifting encouragement at that meeting is beyond me. I feel sorry for anyone who can go to something like that and not be affected by it in the most glorious way.

One of the coolest things was that many of the people at the conference were aware of GenerationNEXT, and they even invited me to stand up and speak about it! I was shaking like a leaf and I don’t know how I managed to get through it, but it was really great and I was so encouraged to see how supportive everyone was of our ministry! Next time, though, I need to be standing in FRONT of the podium…I could barely see over it (no short jokes).

The next few months hold even more adventure, and I absolutely can’t wait. God is so wonderful. He is my all in all. He continues to test my heart, I’m sure to keep my humble, and every time brings me some new bit of wisdom borne out of my heartache and trials to add to my belt. I know I’m not done learning. I doubt I ever will be. The lessons don’t get easier, though I wish they did. But the hurt seems to sting for less time and the peace comes quicker.
Often times, I feel like Catherine Marshall, who, after years of battling illness, declared to God that if He wanted, she would be content being an invalid for the rest of her life because she knew He had a purpose for it. Catherine Marshall is one of my biggest heroes, so I think of that story a lot. It encourages me to remember that, although I can’t see it, there’s a big purpose for the things I go through. And maybe the purpose isn’t for me, but for someone else. So I am content. I can bloom where I’m planted and wait.
“The most difficult thing—but an essential one—is to love life, to love it even while one suffers, because life is all. Life is God and to love life means to love God.” –Leo Tolstoy

Why are the simplest things so difficult?

When will men and women take their places? Men need to stand up and be the wild warriors God made then to be. Women need to step back and let their men be men, and be happy riding shotgun in the adventure instead of driving.

I see so many men held handicapped by their wives and mothers. It is actually quite sickening and disheartening. A friend of mine always stated in despair, “There are no good men! Where are the strong Christian leaders?” I always disagreed with that statement, saying that they were out there somewhere. But seeing what I see makes me wonder. Where are they?

Actually, I know where they are. They are in every man I see. Young and old, they are all there. Deep in their hearts, they are strong leaders and wild warriors. They long to fight the battles, live the adventures and rescue the beauties. The problem is…they have wives and mothers.

So, simply put: Wife, follow your husband and let him be the wild one he longs to be. Mother, quit hanging onto and pushing your son around, and let him grow up and be a man!

You have no right to be frustrated with your men because they will not lead or choose for themselves, because you are holding them back. Bite your tongue. Bite it till it falls off if you have to. Only when you, wife and mother, learn to shut up and be content with being a woman will your husband and your son stand up and be the Men they were meant to be.

“There is a strength in you…I see it.” (William Wallace to Robert Bruce in Braveheart)

Am I frustrated? Yes, I am. I’m sorry if this sounds harsh, but every once in a while, someone has to quit dodging the truth and say what needs to be said. And maybe I should have said it a long time ago, but often I don’t see a way to write things till it hits really close to home. Or in this case, hits home enough to sucker punch me right in the heart.

I am not perfect. I’ll be the first to tell you that. Some people may say I sound like a total hypocrite talking about the place of women and men, when here I’m running a ministry. Yeah, I’m being a leader. Well, you can think what you want. I will make no lame excuses about doing God’s work or whatever. I did what I saw needed to be done. I do not like leading. But sometimes I have to, because no one else will.

On another note (yes, I’m still venting), what about love and respect? The book “For Young Women Only” by Lisa Rice and Shaunti Feldhaun states that the majority of men would rather be respected than loved, and women would rather be loved than respected. Well, over the past year, I’ve learned what its like to be loved and NOT respected, and I can tell you this…I would rather be respected. It goes hand in hand, really. Respecting me proves that you love me, because you cannot truly love me without respecting me.

You can put on whatever show you want, you can say tons about loving me…but if you cannot respect the simplest things I ask, then you might as well cut out my heart, throw it in the dirt and step on it.

Its not that hard. I really don’t make things that difficult! And if for some reason you are unsure about how I feel about something, ASK ME in a way that you know is right! Instead of guessing, ask! And don’t do it if you think it might not be right. Nothing is so important that you have to step all over me in order to accomplish it.
I understand if you don’t agree. I don’t expect people to agree with me. Its wonderful when they do, but I can’t make anyone agree with me. But worse than not agreeing with me is saying that they do when they really don’t.

Why??! Why do people continue to schmooze along, just mamby-pamby agreeing with everything I say just to get on my good side? I’d respect people more if they stood up for themselves and were strong in their own convictions instead of always trying to weasel around mine.

Truth has no agenda.

I am not a hateful person. It takes a lot for me to really despise a person. My love for people is deep and forgiving, and I’ll be the first person to hand out second chances…and third chances. My good opinion once given is not easily taken away, but as Mr. Darcy says, “My good opinion once lost is lost forever.” Prove you are worthy of a second chance, and I will give it. But if you cannot stand strong and respect me, and if you cannot deeply and honestly agree, then don’t go hurting me again.

I am not saying that I will not be friends with people that disagree with me. Oh, gosh, no…several of my very best friends hold views quite different from me. But the thing is that they aren’t afraid to say it. My friend Marcos and I have a running joke that we disagree on everything but Calvinism! I’m not afraid to disagree with people. Such is life…we are all individuals, and that’s how God created us. But I cannot bear it when a person makes themselves out to be something they are not just to get on my good side.

Life holds so much good. God has given a world so infinitely beautiful. Wouldn’t it be a shame to waste it?

I am built up and torn down
I smile and cry, say yes and no
Uncertain rules stem from an uncertain heart
My core wishes and values seek to
translate each move, each word
Is this right? Is this wrong?

I reach forward
I pull back
Like touching something far too hot
I’ve been burned before
Yet still I play with fire

So much won and
So much lost
Is this how you want it to be, Lord?
Forever my hopes to be built only to have them dashed?
If this is what you want,
then I will follow.

My heart breaks as I watch
another dear heart aching.
What could I have done differently?
What shouldn’t I have said?
Where did I go wrong?

Just when I think I am doing everything right
I trip and stumble
I fall flat on my face
Bruised and broken,
I struggle to stand
Knowing that in my fall, I’ve taken someone with me.

What now?
I cannot run.
I can barely stand.
My wishes, hopes, dreams have become a blur
God, this beauty feels like chaos.

The plan hides, the map has been mislaid
We don’t know what we are doing, so we run in head long,
Bumping into walls with our eyes shut.

And yet...
Within the smoky chaos, clarity forms.
Reasons for hurting show
You tell me, Lord, how the things I see as bad
point toward the things I did not know were good.

This is not goodbye.
This is not never.
But this is…not now.

There is no rush.
Let time build and grow.
If this is God’s plan, then time will only strengthen and make more beautiful.
Smile.
Press on.
For there is always
Hope.

*I discovered this, lost in one of my forgotten folders. :D *

The Warrior is a Child
A Story By Hannah McMichael, June 2008
Inspired by Twila Paris's song "The Warrior is a Child"


She was a warrior. A great warrior. All who were even remotely acquainted with her admired her. She was brave and beautiful. She fought with nobility and grace. She was loved by many, and hated by few. She the picture of beauty and purity, and even her enemies found it hard to despise her. Those who did most often regretted it in the end.
Yet with all her talent and beauty, she held a secret. Deep within her heart lay something she vowed no one would ever know. There were times when she would come so close to revealing her secret, but then would gather herself together and remain cool and calm. It was not something she was ashamed of, yet it was something she was not particularly anxious for anyone to know.
One day came when a hard battle was to take place. She would be fighting an old enemy, one she had before defeated, but was once again declaring war in hopes to defeat her. This was not an enemy she looked forward to fighting, but always, in her heart, she knew that it was inevitable. This enemy would haunt her until she found a way to defeat him for good.
As she prepared for battle, she thought about her enemy. He was smart; increasingly smart. It seemed as though, the more she fought him, he learned some better way to fight her. And somehow, she knew that this would be the time where her tactics would be of little to no use. Though she dared not voice her fear, she felt the icy grip on her heart that told her she could not win this battle. There was no easy victory in sight; only a hopeless battle that she knew would leave her crushed and broken.
The weight of that knowledge caused her courage to sink and fear to well up inside her. For the first time in her life, she was truly afraid. As she strapped on her armor in what was usually the comfort of her tent, all she felt was bitter, empty loneliness surrounding her. She tried to shake off the feeling, but it held on tight in her chest. All at once, she knew that the secret she had kept so guarded would somehow not be a secret much longer.
She checked her armor to make sure it was on tightly and securely, and picked up her sword. Sliding it from its sheath, her fingers felt stiff and wooden as she wrapped them around the hilt. She stared at the blade, so well forged, yet chipped slightly from years of hard use. This would be her only weapon in her battle against her enemy. The thought sent a chill through her veins. There was no way she could do it.
She slid the sword back in the sheath, but did not buckle it around her waist. She stepped out of her tent with as much poise and grace as she could muster, and walked toward the egde of her camp. Her companions smiled at her admiringly as she walked by, but she barely noticed them. All she knew was that she needed to get out...needed to escape. Her pace quickened, for she found tears beginning to well up in her eyes. She batted them back, but one slid defiantly down her cheek.
She made it to a small hill just outside the camp before it happened. The tears began to pour, softly at first. She held her sword horizontally in both hands. Her head tilted backwards as her eyes gazed into the sky, as if searching it for some sort of answer. Then slowly, sobs began to shake her shoulders, and her sword fell from her hands to the ground. Her knees buckled as she held her face in her hands. Never had she felt more alone. Never had she faced a time where she had to admit that, even though she appeared strong, she was a child beneath her armor. She was scared, lonely, and wanted so badly to hide.
Her friends in the encampment stared wide-eyed as they watched her cry. They all wanted to help her, but none knew quite how. Most were too shocked at this sudden breakdown of their heroine to even contemplate what they could do for her. It was as they were all lost in their own thoughts, judgments, and wonderings that the King stepped out from His tent. Seeing His warrior, he walked out of the camp and up the hill to where she was kneeling, and laid a hand ever so gently on her still shaking shoulder. She jumped slightly at His touch, and then lifted her teary face to meet His gaze. His eyes were filled with love and compassion. He knelt beside her and without a word, picked up her sword. With a questioning look on her face, she reached out a hand in protest. He wrapped her hand in His own and peered into her eyes. "Let me have it," He said, so softly only she could hear. She hated to give up her sword, but in that moment, she realized how necessary it was for Him to take it from her. She nodded her head, such a small motion that it seemed as though it had not taken place. Then, with a movement so sweet and gentle, the King picked her up in His arms and carried her slowly back to the camp. Oh, how safe and secure she felt, resting her head on His shoulder! His arms enveloped her in such strength that it all hardly seemed possible.
Back in the encampment, He carried her, not to Her tent, but to his own. A deep and reverent honor flowed through her, for though all had a constant welcome in the King's tent, not many ever dared to go there. Such a place was too sacred to be entered upon so lightly. But now, as the King set her down in the middle of His tent, she felt as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be here in the King's closest presence.
Still holding her sword, He sat down in his throne. He appeared to be thinking deeply as He stared at her sword. Finally, after a few moments, he smiled.
"Do you remember when I gave this to you?" He said, nodding toward the sword.
She nodded gently. "Yes. It was when I first became your warrior."
"And do you remember what I said?"
"I remember that You told me how much You loved me."
The King smiled even wider. "Yes, I did. And you thought, at the time, that this sword was a gift of my love to you?"
She sensed that the question was not really a question at all. "Y-yes," she answered, because those had been her exact thoughts.
The King stood and walked to where she was standing. He bent slightly and looked deeply into her eyes. "Why?"
Her heart trembled as she tried to think of an answer. Why indeed? With a sense of defeat welling up inside her, she turned her gaze the floor.
The King lifted her chin with His finger. "It is because you misunderstood My love for you."
A confused look crossed her face, and she waited for Him to explain.
"When I gave you this sword, I did not mean for you to use it forever. I wanted you to use it, because that is what a sword is for. But what I really wanted was for you to let me fight your battles for you. You see, in My giving you a sword and declaring My love for you, I knew there would come a day when you would face a battle you could not win on your own. I had hoped that you would come to me on your own, but nevertheless, I want you to do something very important for Me."
"Of course," she said, though her heart was full with far more words.
The King's gaze grew ever more passionate and serious. "Trust me with your sword. Let me fight your battles for you. Let me carry you to safety. My love for you is all that you have ever needed, and will ever need. Please...just trust in me."
An overwhelming and unexplainable peace washed over her. Oh, yes! That had been what she had always wanted, thought she had never even realized it. She smiled her agreement to her King. Why had it taken her so long to see that this was, indeed, the place where she needed to be?
The King stroked her face lovingly, and strapped her sword around his waist.
She knew then, deep in her heart the only battles she would ever have to fight would be against herself. But then again, they were battles that could be won simply by surrendering her heart to Him.
What joy filled her soul as she watched her King march into battle...for her!