Ann Kiemel

I Love the Word Impossible


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      i love

      the

      word

      impossible

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      The author and the publisher gratefully acknowledge permission from the Gaither Music Company to quote, on pages 134 and 159, from the song “Something Beautiful,” ©Copyright 1971 by William J. Gaither.

      ©2013 by Ann Kiemel

      Publisher - Heritage Builders Association, Clovis, California 93619 www.HeritageBuilders.com 1-888-898-9563

      First Printing 1976 by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois.

      Printed in the United States of America

      Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 75-42908

      ISBN 978-1-939-01117-6

      Cover design by Claire Tingen

      Cover photo by Justin Davis/Fencelinemedia.com Text formatting and editing by Esther Garcia

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      to my father and mother

      who have lived great lives

      and raised me to believe in God and i, together,

      could make it through ANYTHING

      and to my boss and friend and spiritual mentor,

      dean robert helfrich.

      his heart is stretched so wide,

      and he is so honest.

      and with love to Hal and Susie Zigelbaum

       contents

      preface

      1. i’m a woman now

      sunday night

      new year’s eve

      i’m a woman now

      prejudice

      legalism

      thoughts

      evangelism

       theology

       2. on campus

       dean of women

       caring

       defeat

       self-image

       forgiveness 1

       forgiveness 2

       3. people

       magic of life

       neighborhood

       beauty shop

       gramps

       rejection

       st. maries, idaho

       individuality

       joyce

       the pendulum swing

       4. en route

       the difference

       hap

       frances

       john

       Christmas eve

       new year’s eve again

       5. i love the word impossible

       football game

       kaleidoscope

       preface

      i love the word impossible…

      it’s like joy after sorrow.

      people being friends after being enemies.

      rainbows after drenching rain.

      a wound healed.

      sunsets on quiet evenings after

      hot, noisy days.

      paralyzed, injured limbs learning to grow

      strong and useful again.

      forgiveness after wrong.

      truth after fog.

      new love-made babies.

      birds learning to fly and own the sky.

      bitterness turned to mellowness.

      fresh, genuine hope… once abandoned.

      people finding each other at right moments,

      in unexpected, obscure places…

      for God-ordained reasons.

      i love that word impossible because my God

      believes in adventure

      and extraordinary mountains, and He dares

      to believe in a world crawling with terrible

      situations.

      He promises to be bigger than any impossibility

      because He is love…

      and love always finds a way through,

      in time.

      love isn’t scared.

      it builds bridges instead of walls.

      it never gives up.

      it always hangs on.

      it waits with stubborn, strong hope.

      sometimes even years.

      love makes God alive in far more than human souls.

      like sun and clear sky and drooping branches

      and dark birds and color and design and music…

      and the sound of water on a shore.

      IMPOSSIBLE means that i

      an ordinary young woman,

      can be something special and significant

      in an enormous, hurting world.

      i can be love where i live,

      and that is Christ…

      and He really does make ALL

      the difference!

one:

       sunday night

      it’s sunday night.

      i flew in this afternoon, as i do most sundays, from speaking somewhere in the country. a garment bag over one arm and books under the other… and the feeling that at any moment something was going to drop or i would get tangled in my coat and sprawl.

      i am always one of the first off the plane.

      i walk very fast.

      my car is usually parked in the airport garage

      across from the terminal.

      when i unlock the door to my little