blog ~ faith ~ family ~ heartlife
Some years ago – about 20 – my sister came to speak with me about a particular teaching she could see me disappearing down the trail of – and she was concerned. I was ironing and she was making cuppas I think, when she began the topic she wanted to discuss.
Continue reading “Going Wonky”
Forgiveness – The ideas attributed to forgiveness are often pre-packaged with a whole host of assumptions, a tonne of pain, a few shovelfuls of offence, confusion about moving forward etc etc etc and when you’re in the middle of a knot it can be pretty tricky to figure out which is what. It’s also pretty often that the knot itself is what gets in the way of being able to forgive when we assume more is meant by it than is so.
Continue reading “Unpacking forgiveness”
Leaving the home of your childhood on good terms has a sweetness and a piquancy to it and has been an illustration to me of how it has felt to move on from the church community I spent about 40 years of my life in… but just like parents don’t stop being parents, church family doesn’t stop being family regardless of the meeting place.
VSP 🙂
Once upon a time, about 15 years ago, lived a tribe of small children in a rambling home on a hill where the summers scorched and the winters wore but come sunshine or sleet, grey days or golden, the children would play.
Continue reading “An Unconventional Story”
In the last few days I’ve been thinking rather a lot on WHY I was such a snot to my parents at around age 16. I’d have thought that by the 6th kid in our family to be almost 16 – that I’d have thought through all my own teenage ‘stuff’ by now but it’s not so.
Continue reading “On Growing Up”
To the tune of “99 Bottles of Beer” – written after 20 years of our kids attending school – taking the last two out to start homeschooling! <3
9000 trips to school on my clock,
9000 trips to school
You take them down and turn around
9000 trips to school.
Firsts and lasts sometimes come or go with great notice. Like a birth – the last day of pregnancy becomes the first day of raising a child – and it is usually celebrated. Or a death – the last day of life becomes the first day of living without – and the life that has passed is celebrated, recalled and grieved for.
Continue reading “Firsts and lasts”
Some situations make you feel like you’re in a paper bag that you SHOULD be able to break out of, but can’t.
Continue reading “Perseverance?!”
I realised some years ago that for a variety of compounding reasons, I’d held a bunch of false expectations of God, which had led to anger, disappointment and confusion. I never quit believing in His reality, but some junk existed in my head which needed sorting.
I have never felt that God picks this one or that one, rubs His hands together and says, “right-o then – I’ll pluck off someone you love – I’ll wreck your marriage – I’ll take your baby – I’ll crash your car – you can handle it! This’ll be good for you”
…BUT…
I did realise that I had an expectation that doing life with God, would mean things didn’t hurt sooooooooooooo much.
Through a certain set of circumstances, eight years ago the ‘cruise ship’ of my faith got stripped away to a bare raft that for a while consisted almost solely of: God is real, He loves me, He is kind. One day I asked God “what ARE your promises?” as I felt like so much I had picked up over the years actually was not promised at all! – just a bunch of verses taken and applied out of context with hope or desire for control.
This stripping occurred when our tiny little grandson was born at 23 weeks and only lived for 22 days. Some of you reading this will remember that time. Our whole family was so thoroughly loved and supported but nevertheless it was the hardest year of our lives. After little Elijah died his precious mum came to live with us for a while as these two young parents (16 & 17) needed to be together to grieve. The pressure, the sorrow, the agony, the complexity – and myself still hormonal from the birth of our own little girl (then 3 months old), meant I was clinging by a thread. I would get the kids to school each morning, keep my determination until I parked back in our carport and then rest my head on the steering wheel…and sob.
There was a song I listened to daily… it somehow scoured my soul and gave me solace at the same time. Scoured my soul because it was so raw… Brought solace for the very same reason… there was no fluffing about with the truth of pain in this song. (First comment below for the link). I would have my cry, listen to my song and pull it together before coming back inside where Izzy was, and who did not need to see MY struggle right under her nose as she had quite enough of her own.
So this was the context where I felt my faith be stripped to the minimum. A little way down the track I told God I knew I had stripped away too much of Him and would He please ‘put back in’, ‘restore’ and ‘increase’ Himself to me – but only what really belonged. I was sick of fluff and padding. Fairy floss faith that dissolved on contact. The raft had taken me through the storm of that time but I also knew God to be so much more.
Then one day I had a super special time with Tarri. She’d had her immunisations and was as miserable as it’s possible to be. Temperature, local reactions and just sad, sad, sad. I had her sitting on the kitchen bench with my arms around her saying over and over “I know, I know” when…
…in that moment… God’s presence was right THERE with US. It was as though we were held in His feather soft wings and He’d come to show me He’d done the same as I was doing for Tarri – for me… for us… all this time… that just like my arms enveloped Miss Tarri, His encircled me… us… and while Tarri was too little to understand my words AND that she still felt miserable her little being was benefiting from my presence and comfort. The worse thing, the unbearable thing for Tarri (or for me) would have been to remove the presence of the Comforter and removing that presense would be the only way to know the difference between the pain with or without the comforter. Either way was going to hurt. But His presence meant He wept with us, just as I was moved to tears for this little bundle of misery in MY arms.
Yes I had still hurt, but yes, He’d been there all along comforting and whispering “I know, I know”. Sometimes life throws us things which are immeasurably painful… immeasurably difficult… all of our experiences will be different but most, if not all of us, will be find ourselves at some point in time, at (or over) the edge of our endurance.
This is when we can know and understand some of the paradoxes in the Bible as truth…
“Blessed are those that mourn for they shall be comforted” – the blessing is not the mourning – the blessing is in recognising His comfort within the mourning.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted” – He never said our hearts wouldn’t be broken, He said He’d be close at hand WHEN we are brokenhearted.
There is no pass out of the pains and sorrows of this life – but there is the reality and promise of his presence. And the reality and promise that when we seek Him with our spare time after we finish on FB or watching movies, that He will be able to be found by us. Actually no… I am busted… it doesn’t say that at all… it says that when we seek Him with our WHOLE HEART, He will be found.
Christians are always banging on about how Christianity is not a religion, it’s a relationship. Well – in fact it is a religion BUT at it’s core, if it’s not a relationship, it’s not real. There is no Priest or Pastor or mentor or formula who can make this happen… it really is between us and Him directly.
It’s a growing thing… but growing needs a beginning.
And I know I need His arms around me.
(Written and shared with Izzy’s blessing xx )
I often think on the quantity of 8 seconds in time. A strange number its true. But there is a reason.
Continue reading “Eight seconds”