There are worlds 

We know nothing about, 

and we pass them

and step on them

and make grand judgements.

But until we shrink ourselves

and stretch ourselves

into those worlds,

we will never realize 

how real they are. 

They will only ever be

imaginary lands

we argue about. 

And we will only ever be


Avoiding Mid-Life Crisis

Today’s post sounds pretty informative, until you remember that I’m only in my twenties. Sorry about that. 

I’m bad at waking up early. I do all the tricks: drink water before bed, put my alarm on the other side of the room, keep the curtains drawn back as best I can. But somehow I’m still always rushing. I wake with the alarm, bring it back to bed with me, and fall asleep with it. 

Sometimes I wake with minutes to get ready, and I start crying “oh no, oh no, oh no!” And I wander around the room wringing my hands and lamenting my life. Alex calls these moments my midlife crises. 

“Let’s go to bed early,” he’ll say, “so you don’t have a midlife crisis tomorrow.” Good advice, if a little odd. But sometimes it still doesn’t work. Sometimes my brain decides to stay comotose until twenty minutes before class. Sometimes I forget to pack a lunch or brew coffee. Sometimes we’re running to school, slipping on ice and bounding over roads, racing the bells that chime the hour. 

Sometimes I get home so utterly exhausted I want to do nothing, when I have everything to do. I start to cry and wring my hands again, hating and loving and lamenting.

These are the moments that make me a volatile person. I never thought myself someone with a short temper, but maybe instead I have short nerves. Neither of those is good, and I wish I’d caught it sooner. Alex waits for the storm to pass, and I realize that none of this is worth a storm. Nothing is worth treating the people I love this way. 

So I give myself permission to make little decisions to avoid midlife crisis. I take ownership of my days. I decide not to go to this one class today, or to be a little late to this other thing so I can have dinner with my husband. Even a year ago I’d be wracked with guilt for playing hooky. But nothing is worth being Crazy Lady. 

The biggest challenge, of course, is taking ownership of myself, of reminding myself to nourish what is most important and to remember what isn’t. It means being independent of my circumstances and choosing to be myself, whole, calm, and strong, even when a hundred crazed outside voices tell me otherwise. 

I’m still working on all this, of course. But recognizing that I must is a start. It’s a start I hadn’t made before. 

Call in the next ten minutes, and you too can avoid mid-life crisis!

Thick Skin

“You need thick skin to survive in this world.”

“What if I don’t have it?”

“You’ll have to grow it.”

“What if I can’t?”

“You’ll have to.”

“What if my skin is delicate, almost translucent? What if no matter how much I try, a bruise is always more painful, a wound always more deep? What if I always cry when someone shouts? What if I can’t help it?”

“You’ll have to learn to handle it.”

“What if every beauty is more dazzling, every joy more intense? What if every word carries immense weight and every glance tells a story? What if the sticks that build a house talk and soak in memories like sponges? Is there any good that can come of all that?”


“How do you know?”

“Because life doesn’t work that way.”

“Maybe it does! Maybe it’s meant to!”

“Calm down. You’re too sensitive. You need thick skin to survive in this world.”


I Read Harry Potter (and I didn’t tell my mom)

Exactly a year ago today, I made a big confession.

Hannah Allman Kennedy

Well, I told her after I’d finished reading all seven books.

I wanted to formulate my own opinion on the subject so I could appropriately make my case.

I was afraid, you see. I was afraid that there would be an argument or I’d get grounded or disowned.

The funny thing is, I’m 20, in college, I have a job and a driver’s license, and I’m getting married in June. So really, I am allowed to do pretty much whatever I want unless it’s illegal. And my parents are very friendly, reasonable people.

So why was I so afraid to tell them that I had read Harry Potter?

Despite what you might think, I did not grow up in an extremist right-wing, legalistic religious commune where we dressed in white and sang Amazing Grace every two hours. I did, however, grow up in a conservative, Christian, homeschooling household (which, depending on who…

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6 Things I’ve Learned from Being Married in College


As you know if you’ve read this blog in the past few months, I got married last June. My husband and I, however, are both still in college. I have less than a year to go for my Bachelor’s degree while he has over two.

Married college students are a rare sight. I know a few classmates who are in the same boat, but it’s unusual in our culture. Unfortunately, young marrieds are largely ignored or even chided as culture embraces young  unhindered singleness. While I agree that the single college years can be incredibly fulfilling, today I want to share six things that can be learned from being a young married student.


1. Life is Not the Same for Everyone.


Our society has road-mapped life to a T. Go to college, get a job, get married to your soulmate. But this is neither fair nor realistic. For as vocal as we are about individuality, why do we allow such a cookie-cutter life schedule to be imposed upon us?

I’ve learned that there’s not one life plan or lifestyle that’s inherently perfect. What’s a good choice for me isn’t a good choice for the next person. It’s okay to come to a point in your life where you decide that it’s the right time for something, not popular opinion. For us, it was getting married. We didn’t have everything planned, but we knew we loved each other and wanted to marry each other. It was the next logical step for us, and we took it.


2. Love is Not the Same for Everyone.


Our generation has this grandiose view of love in which you meet someone who gives you perpetual butterflies and after much angst you finally decide to marry them and live happily ever after. Cue harps and singing birds.

For us – and for a lot of people – love is simpler and stronger, bolstered by a deep friendship, commitment to shared convictions, and a healthy dose of Mike and Ike’s and Netflix.

Marriage, although it does radically change your life, does not signal the heavenly end of your life. You are still you, with your same faults and hopes and dreams, and so is your spouse. Life goes on.

Just because our life might not look like everyone says it should doesn’t mean something’s wrong with us, nor does it mean our life is less valuable. It simply means we have to figure out what marriage looks like for us in our unique situation.


3. I Need People So I Can Be Myself.


In our hyper-individualized society, admitting you need people is considered overly dependent, especially if you are a woman saying it of a man. We say things like “I just need to find myself” or “I need to love myself before I can love others”. While these attitudes may have a place, I think when taken too far they create isolation and selfishness.

The truth is that I cannot be a whole, well-rounded person without other people. Other people shape me, sharpen me, and soften me into an ever-better version of myself. This is especially helpful if, like me, you have trouble being yourself.

In marriage, having another person to show you a different perspective in life is rejuvenating. Now I have a built-in best friend who loves me unconditionally and encourages me to be myself. He shows me how to push myself and embrace life, and now I get out and try new things more as a married person than I ever did while single. I have the courage to explore the world because I know at the end of the day I will come home to my favorite person and we will talk about our discoveries together.


4. College is not designed for married couples.


This is a fact of life, one I’ve noted with resigned disappointment. The undergraduate system as it is now takes for granted that its students are unattached to anything but itself. It takes for granted that I live on campus and don’t need to clean up a house at the end of the day or that I will eat my meals in the dining hall instead of running home to cook. It demands that you be there for events, practices, and trips at the drop of a hat when you are trying to build a separate, independent life as a married adult.

That’s just the way it is, and acknowledging that puts us in a better place to work out how we juggle our various responsibilities as a couple. It gives us the chance to learn how to draw boundaries, manage our time, and to consciously make our relationship a top priority.


5. Money Will be Tight, and That’s Okay.


This is not a fun lesson, but in a way it’s kind of liberating. When you’re newlyweds in college, you just don’t have a lot of money. That’s what deters a lot of people because again, as a society we expect to have the lifestyle of forty-year-olds – complete with a house, car, and picket fence – as soon as we receive our college degrees. People don’t want to get married until they have a decent job and have paid off a decent amount of college loan.

For us though, getting married streamlined everything. His money and my money became our money, his savings and my savings our savings, his debt and my debt our debt. Instead of striving as individuals to make it financially, we can come alongside each other and work together toward a common goal. That helps us to stay responsible and accountable to each other and to learn together that life’s meaning is derived from relationships, not possessions.

We live simply, but comfortably, and we are sustained in ways we don’t fully understand. People have told us we’re lucky to be able to live so independently, and they ask how we do it. Honestly, we can’t answer. Each week, each month we find ourselves provided for by God in ways we never expected. We could try to be more logical and worry about it, or we could just live in peace in His provision. So we do the latter.


6. It’s totally worth it.


I’ll be honest; I was a little terrified when we got married. Vowing to commit the rest of your life to someone else is huge. But each day I grow in certainty that this was absolutely the best decision to make at this time in my life. I feel like I was born to be married. I love putting together a cozy home and cooking yummy food (apparently I’m pretty good) and sharing my life with the kindest, goofiest guy I know.

When people ask what it’s like being married in college, I most often say “it’s really fun!”, which is an odd way to put it. But it honestly is. You can’t live a life of fake martial arts face-offs, stuffed animal obsessions, and Disney movie character impressions and not have fun.

gif and fritz

And I know, as I’ve always known, that married life isn’t always fun. There are hurt feelings and misunderstandings and pet peeves and tears. Ironically, we seem to most hurt the people we most love. But it’s that amazing ongoing lesson of Christ’s love, that picture of God and His people that marriage is meant to sketch, that keeps our perspective steady. We respect and love each other as people, which allows us to love each other as a couple much more fully.


Obviously I wouldn’t encourage someone to go out and get married for the heck of it. But if you are at a point where you feel ready and yet society is squeezing you with its worries and expectations, know that you aren’t alone.

Getting married young isn’t for everyone. Staying single isn’t for everyone either. And that’s the point. There should never be pressure one way or the other, whether marriage is better or singleness is better. There should never be rolled eyes and raised brows. There should only be encouragement and respect in the myriad ways God chooses to plot out our lives.

Which, I suppose, is the seventh thing I’ve learned.



“And I submit that nothing will be done until people of goodwill put their bodies and their souls in motion. And it will be the kind of soul force brought into being as a result of this confrontation that I believe will make the difference.”

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Throwback: I Read Harry Potter (and I Didn’t Tell My Mom)

I wrote this post almost a year ago, and I thought I’d share it again. In the past year I’ve learned so much about life and Godliness (though not nearly as much as I still need to learn), and I’m learning to take joy in the incredible freedom we have in Christ, freedom to use all things for His glory and to celebrate Him in all we are and do, even (especially) literature. I hope you enjoy my journey as a Christian Harry Potter fan (gasp!)

Well, I told her after I’d finished reading all seven books.

I wanted to formulate my own opinion on the subject so I could appropriately make my case.

I was afraid, you see. I was afraid that there would be an argument or I’d get grounded or disowned.

The funny thing is, I’m 20, in college, I have a job and a driver’s license, and I’m getting married in June. So really, I am allowed to do pretty much whatever I want unless it’s illegal. And my parents are very friendly, reasonable people.

So why was I so afraid to tell them that I had read Harry Potter?

Despite what you might think, I did not grow up in an extremist right-wing, legalistic religious commune where we dressed in white and sang Amazing Grace every two hours. I did, however, grow up in a conservative, Christian, homeschooling household (which, depending on who you are, might be the same thing). If you know anything about the mainstream conservative Christian sphere, you know that poor Harry is a taboo subject. He’s a point of contention, really. Some say the books encourage kids to worship the devil. Others maintain that it is no different than your Christian fantasy staples like The Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia.

Here’s my consensus: They’re both.

Now now you uber conservatives, don’t freak out. And you, more progressive folks, don’t get your knickers in a twist. Hear me out, both of you. Here’s the back story.

The Harry Potter books first came out when I was quite young, just a bit too young to read actually, so it sort of became ingrained into my consciousness from early on that this was a touchy subject. Growing up I wasn’t allowed to read them, but I never really pursued it. I had heard the collective Christian voice tell me to stay away, to put on my gas mask and spray disinfectant into the air whenever the words “Harry” and “Potter” entered the same room.

I got older and decided to pursue writing in college. After spending a few semesters at a state school, I found this awesome Christian school where for the first time in my college career, faith and education were going hand in hand. It was a revelation for me, really. It was mind-blowing how Christianity and literature are so entwined. I was also surprised to find that some professors, who I respected as spiritually strong, would talk of the Harry Potter books in their lessons in a good way. This interested me.

Prayerfully I decided to begin reading the Harry Potter series. I decided to at least start with the first book, and then to test and discern what I thought about it. I went to the library on campus. I found it in the juvenile section, right out in the open for everyone to see (at a Christian school! The travesty!). I took the book to the counter to check it out and I felt like a brazen heathen. I hid the book under my arm as I walked to my dorm, afraid lest people point and stare and whisper behind their hands.

I took the book to my room, and I began to read.

I read the story of a little boy who learns he is a wizard. He goes to a special school to learn to use his power wisely. He makes friends and learns how to be loyal to them and to protect them. He learns that a dark wizard, who uses his power for evil, left long ago but may be coming back. And the little boy fights and beats back the dark wizard with the help of his friends and the council of his mentors.

Wow, good book. It was delightful. I had been half-expecting instructions on how to draw a circle on the floor and sacrifice a cat, but no, that wasn’t in there.

I got the second book, and then the third, and then all the way to the seventh. And the story I read was one of great loss, and great friendship, great power and the use and misuse of it. There was great love and great hatred and love vanquishing the hatred. There was great life and great death… death that was defeated by the greater life.

There was darkness, yes, and evil, absolutely, and ugliness, true, but these were seen for the perverted things that they are. Good and bad were held in their rightful boundaries. The characters weren’t perfect but the protagonists strove to be. They struggled to use their magic (really just an allegory for power) for peace and good. There were spiritual truths that, as I read, I uncovered, and they have helped me to see God and the people He loves much more clearly.

And here is what I mean when I say that Harry Potter is both a staple of Christian lit and a tool of the devil:

I mean that it can be both.

Harry Potter is just a story. You can read the story in the form of ink on a bunch of bound pages. It’s no different than any work of literature you pick up from any old place. No work of literature is inherently evil or inherently Christian. The Bible, for example, is inspired by God, but the story it records are not only claimed or used by Christians. Other religions and creeds would say that parts of it are “theirs”, and throughout history the words written in that book have been twisted and used to mean things that they never meant.

The difference is how we take in the story we read, and then in how we act upon the story. You could read the Bible, be cut to the heart, and be brought to repentance before the Lord (as most people are), or you could read the Bible, decide that it’s rubbish, and choose to follow the enemy who’s described in it (as many people do). Likewise, you could read Harry Potter looking for the darkness and ugliness and latch onto that, or your could read it, as I did, looking for the deeper truths that it contains. When you read literature like that you find gems of truth that feed your mind and soul.

So yes, I am now a Harry Potter fan. But please understand me. There are stories floating around this great wide web about men and women who grew up in conservative Christian backgrounds and were alienated, choosing to break away and swing far in the other direction. This is not one of those stories.

I am still a conservative Christian, working out my salvation before a merciful God Who has saved me. I just really like the Harry Potter books, because weird as it sounds, they have helped to bring me closer to the merciful God who saved me. This is not the same for everyone, and you know what? That’s okay. Harry Potter might be a stumbling block to you, and if it is, then please don’t read it. We are each at different places in our walk with the Lord, and you might be in a place where Harry Potter could be a slippery slope, in which case I’d say stay away!

But my main point overall is this: hey Christians, don’t judge a book by its cover (see what I did there?). Don’t label a work of literature as “Christian” or “Secular” just because of who wrote it or what it’s about (or what you might think it’s about). That’s easy to do because it’s lazy. It takes time to read, take in, and discern the deeper meanings of a book. It takes time, but in the process you find so much that you would have otherwise missed.

One of my biggest issues with the typical conservative approach to Harry Potter was the amount of assumptions made about it when most of the assum-ers had never read it. We Christians like to do that, I’m afraid. We can be prejudiced. And we can turn our prejudices into doctrine. We do that. It’s sad. We can make arbitrary rules (Gandalf the Wizard is okay. Harry Potter the Wizard is… devil worship?) that are not often grounded in truth or knowledge.

I don’t say all this to give a license to “do whatever because hey! you might find some deeper truths!”

No. That’s not what I’m saying.

am saying to be mindful. Be prayerful. Be discerning. Be kind, and above all, be fair.

Be… a bit like Harry Potter.


Happy New Year!!

It’s hard to imagine that the year 2015 is here! Last year I spent this day exploring Salzburg, Austria, and although this year’s festivities were much more laid back, I am blessed to be surrounded with the people I love most in my dear good old hometown. A year brings a lot of change, but I am thankful for it and a lot more hopeful about change now than I have been in the past, which is another thing to be grateful for!


Today’s poem is sort of dark/deep for such a holiday, but it’s something I’ve had on my mind lately. Here is 




Come dress me up,

for I am your doll.

Put me in pin curls

and cinch me up small.


Come paint my face

with talc, kohl, and clay.

Make sure my lashes

curl, last all day.


Come dress me up,

in all the fine gowns,

wrap me in silver

and give me a crown.


Come grace my neck

in glittering gems,

put me in spike heels

hid under my hem.


Come dress me up

and pose me just right,

I’m just a doll;

I’ll be here all night.


I think about the women on magazine covers, the ones robed in the latest fashions with airbrushed faces and perfect figures; and about the models that saunter up and down runways, wearing bland and sometimes angry expressions, devoid of personality like walking billboards; or even the actresses in films, curated like the finest gardens in order to appeal to the masses. Sadness tinges my soul, because I realize that to the world they are only dolls.

I don’t mean to shame women who choose those careers. It would be fun to get to play dress up and get paid for it, and the majority of these people choose to do it. They are not slaves. They are not forced. They are not exploited. 

But something in me still recoils, even minimally, because I see where the seemingly innocuous world of glittering lights, fashion and beauty becomes a way for us to make dolls, playthings, poppets out of our fellow human beings. As people, we love beauty. But when we find it, just enjoying and appreciating it is not enough for us. We must perfect it or obtain more of it. Beauty is a drug that helps us to forget the world’s ugliness. An actress on a magazine cover, no matter how beautiful, powerful, smart, kind, or influential she is as a person, remains an image to us, an image we see over and over again in magazine after magazine, film after film. She is stripped of her humanity and becomes something pretty to look at. Our quest to obtain beauty becomes ugliness. 

What are we to do, then? I think the answer lies in remembering who we are as human beings. The Bible says that we are created in the image of God, and therefore each person is precious and beautiful. To God, beauty is not just in a person’s image. We are told that “man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7b).

Foolish people that we are, we usually assume that outward beauty is the sole definition of beauty, but it isn’t. Many people are physically beautiful but internally grotesque. If we valued internal beauty as much as we value the external, I believe that we would learn to see that girl on a magazine as more than just an image, more than just a doll to play dress up with. We would see her and each other fully, looking beyond the outside to what is truly valuable within. We would see the complete person, not just her image digitally collected, manipulated, and printed onto some paper. 

So if I could challenge you (and myself) this year, I would urge you not to treat your fellow (wo)man like a doll. Look beyond the outward appearance to the heart. You may not always like what you see, but at least you will see the people around you for who they truly are. I guarantee that along the way you will find beauty, and you will become better at recognizing what beauty truly is. 

Happy New Year, friends. God bless!


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