Showing posts with label D amp; M. Show all posts
Showing posts with label D amp; M. Show all posts
Sunday, 14 October 2012
Hello and other ramblings...
Hello again! Wow, its been a REALLY long time since I last wrote anything on here. Life has got away in me a bit these last, well 7 months. I've been pregnant and had a baby in that time even. It feels so long that in fact, I dont know where to begin. This year has been laced with challenge to challenge, its been hard for many around us, and hard for us. And as I sit here, reclined, my feet up in a lazyboy,the sun tearing through the window of Room 2, NICU, Auckland City Hospital... holding my 2 week old baby who is really only 31 weeks old, I just ponder life a bit... This year has been good. Laced with difficulty, but good. When I look at the people around me that have faced trials, challenges and depths of pain, I see a maturity that has risen to the occasion and carried on. There are great wells of tears that have been sown into the ground, a ground found ferftile for growth, because it has been dug,turned over, fertilised by the revelations and depths found in trials since gone by, but mostly, because the people have known where to cling when everything else is shaking. You can rise to the occasion when you know the One who carries you through and has seen the end from the beginning. Sure, its hard, and in the hard moments it doesnt change that sometimes we want to stay in bed in the morning, lie down flat and not get up anymore, forgetC our responsibilities and run away, or just plain break. We want to, but mostly, we get up, we face the day, we carry on for the light of a better day glimmers through a tiny crack in the door. I could write the story of my son's birth, little Ezekiel David, all 3lbs of him, and I will, but I'll save it for anothet day. For today, I just want to say, rise up. Get up again and face the world. Shake off the weight of heaviness that tries to swallow you up and find your garment of praise- the 9n that He designed specially for you. The one that looks at the rain, but sres the rainbow. What you fix your eyes on is what you get. The rain is the trial, the challenge, the pain... the rainbow is the promise that holds your feet firm. You actually can choose how you face the day, how you handle the trial, how you cone out theother side. If you find yourself facing the same thing, with the same attitude and the same heaviness repeatedly, I'd examine closely the choices you're making in facing the challenge. Where are your eyes fixed? What does that look like? Is it the right perspective or have you bought into a lie... People often say, why has God allowed this to happen? Why am I in this place? Where is He in this? Dumb stuff happens because we live an imperfect life... whether its from our own choices or actions, that of another or whether its just something we've been thrown with no one to pount at... it doesnt matter. What we do when we question Him, is we questiin His integrity. We question His love. We ques tion His faithfulness, His goodness, His perfect Father heart. We question whether He's there at all... questions are ok for a moment, but they should lead us to a deeper encounter with Him, a deeper knowledge og His love and a deeper understanding that He IS all of those things (and so much more) in absolute perfect form, far too great for our minds and hearts to comprehend... but He REMAINS all of those things even in our trials... Perfect love, perfect faithfulness, perfect friendship, perfect Father, perfect in all f His ways toward us, all of the time. Afterall, He is the Only One who never changes...
Monday, 11 April 2011
I WILL LIVE to tell the story...
Ps 118.17
I will not die, but I will LIVE
to tell what the LORD has done......
Almost three weeks ago, I lay on death's doorstep.
It started with a headache. So severe I could not get out of bed. I was so tired, but could not sleep for the pain. It was so intense, I failed to even put 2 & 2 together with any other symptoms my body was facing.
The rest - which I realised while being questioned by my GP was, I had such a stiff neck, I couldn't stand any light, I was running a high fever but freezing cold, I couldn't stand to straighten my legs, I had to lie down. I felt incredibly nauseated - even drinking one sip of water was enough to make me want to vomit.
The pain I was experiencing - was MUCH, MUCH worse than labour. I visited my GP - hoping for a jab in the butt to be sent home to get over my "migrane". Of course, being pregnant - they couldn't give me anything.
Next I knew I was being checked head-to-toe for a rash and sent straight to ED at our local hospital. The GP phoned in advance and sent me with a letter - so I could be seen "immediately".
I arrived, could hardly walk in the room, let alone tell them my name or write. They took my letter and I sat down. The room was busy - full, of really unwell people. I saw the nurse, who checked me and told me it "will not be long" before I got to see the doctor.
Three and a half hours later, my husband, mum and miss "alsmost 2" at my side, I was still waiting. I lay on a small couch in the busy main corridor of the hospital - because I could not bare to be upright. I kept my eyes shut and periodically faded in and out of "awareness" - which I figured later was consciousness. I shivered with cold and couldn't stand any noise.
They called my name. By this point, I could barely stand, nor walk. I could not control my body in the least. I was beginning to convulse, hyperventilate and cry - at the same time.
The nurse ordered blood tests be done immediately, drip was inserted because I was severely dehydrated. My fever was running high.
The doctor was in shortly after, and I was checked all over and asked a multitude of questions (for the 4th time). He left to talk to his boss, and the nurse stayed with me.
The first few drops of morphine - were literally like heaven (haha). For the first time, I felt much less pain and could open my eyes.
I sobbed and sobbed - "what about my baby....??"
The doctor returned. I had meningitis. He suspected it was viral meningitis due to some of the onsetting symptoms I had, he was happy to diagnose me without any futher tests.
He told me that they cannot treat viral meningitis. It is also not considered "dangerous" like bacterial meningitis is. They would give me some pain killers and send me home, that I would have a headache and be sick for a couple of weeks and then start to come right.
But I was given a choice. Little did I know - the choice was likely to mean the difference between life and death.
If I left, and got worse, I had to come back to ED. And join the back of the line in waiting again. I would not have returned. The wait was too agonising and traumatising as it was, let alone to do it a second time.
He said the other choice, was to have a lumbar puncture done - which would actually diagnose whether I had bacterial or viral meningitis.
I felt incredibly compassionate towards the other very sick people who were in the waiting room, waiting for a bed in the ED. I felt swayed to go home.
But deep inside me somewhere - I knew something just wasn't right.
So I asked for the lumbar puncture.
The LP wasn't as bad as I expected (or had been told by others). It's not a nice thing to have done, but I did not care for fact that it would help make me better.
A couple of hours later, I was diagnosed with bacterial meningitis. Much to the doctor's surprise. An ultra-sound was done to check baby - and there was lots of movement and a perfect heart rate. *Sigh of relief*
Mum had taken miss "almost 2" home for dinner and bath, hubby then had to leave to pick her up and get her to bed. Later, without warning, I was collected by two people with plastic gowns from head to toe, and masks on - and delivered to my room. The masks and gowns were part of my life for two days - until I was no longer "contagious".
I felt like an enemy of the human race - biological warfare waiting to be released or something. At one point, I had five medical staff in my small room, peering at me from behind their peculiar costumes.
For the next 8 days I lay in hospital - in a room completely dark. My visitors actually thought I was sleeping - but I couldn't handle even the faintest light. I could not read or write. I could not even bear to look at pictures.
I could maintain an upright position for only 5 minutes, before suffering excruciating pain and needing to sleep.
I never knew how the wriggles and kicks of a tiny baby could be such a relief. The baby is alive. But even more, I am alive.
I had meltdowns in the middle of the night. I had panic attacks in the night (and day). I felt depressed and alone, but any visitors made me physically and emotionally exhausted.
One morning, I couldn't even open the small packet of jam to put on my toast. I called the nurse, in tears, who opened it - then I couldn't even use my knife. The sheer frustration of wanting to do a simple task, but physically not being able to, was terrible.
I desperately wanted my God to come and make me well, sometimes I wondered why all this had happened and where He had got to. But I knew He would never leave me, nor would He make me sick, or "allow" me to be sick.
People came to pray for me, my family was desperately praying for me, my friends were desperately praying for me, my church was desperately praying for me - people I don't even know were crying out to heaven for me.
And I can truly say that I am SURE, if it weren't for God, I would have died. I am greatful for the prayers of many warriors who cried out for me in my despair. And who are still crying out for my total healing.
I finally came home. Still in incredible pain, afraid of light and unable to do most things. My arms were like those of an addict from all the IV's and blood tests. My husband, looked glazed and stressed. His busiest time with his work, an incredibly ill wife and a demanding child.
Then came the helps. Dinners cooked and delivered every night. Babysitters, house-cleaners, people just to sit with me. Vouchers for special trips to a cafe. What stars I have for family, friends and wider church family.
Each day since coming home, I have improved. I can now read and write again. I can stand light although sometimes get a slight headache or uncomfortable feeling. I am barely in any pain apart from my back and tailbone are still quite sore.
My brain is sometimes still slow, speech sometimes slurred and occasionally loud or sharp noises still hurt my head. I am off balance - which makes me afraid of large groups of people or things like crossing a busy road/carpark. I cannot hear or see as well as I could.
I recognise that there is not only the physical damage on my body (which I believe I will make a FULL recovery from), but there is also a lot of emotional trauma which I am working through.
BUT...
I am greatful. I am so greatful to be alive that the very thought moves me to tears. I am greatful to be able to hear/see and do most of the things that I used to. I am greatful to tuck my sweet little princess in at night, and experience the joy of her laughter - even just one more time. I am greatful to look my husband in the eyes and tell him I love him - even just one more time.
I am greatful for all the people who have been pouring themselves out for my benefit. Because they believe in me being well again.
I am greatful to be given another chance at life - because I sure didn't live the last chance I had as much as I wanted to.
I am greatful that I serve a God who WANTS to heal people. Who DELIGHTS in healing the sick and doing miracles. A God who is real, and who loves fiercely.
I know, that as I lay there fighting for my life, in the darkest moments - He truly sat in the chair next to my bed keeping watch. Willing me to rise again. Willing me to live.
x
I will not die, but I will LIVE
to tell what the LORD has done......
Almost three weeks ago, I lay on death's doorstep.
It started with a headache. So severe I could not get out of bed. I was so tired, but could not sleep for the pain. It was so intense, I failed to even put 2 & 2 together with any other symptoms my body was facing.
The rest - which I realised while being questioned by my GP was, I had such a stiff neck, I couldn't stand any light, I was running a high fever but freezing cold, I couldn't stand to straighten my legs, I had to lie down. I felt incredibly nauseated - even drinking one sip of water was enough to make me want to vomit.
The pain I was experiencing - was MUCH, MUCH worse than labour. I visited my GP - hoping for a jab in the butt to be sent home to get over my "migrane". Of course, being pregnant - they couldn't give me anything.
Next I knew I was being checked head-to-toe for a rash and sent straight to ED at our local hospital. The GP phoned in advance and sent me with a letter - so I could be seen "immediately".
I arrived, could hardly walk in the room, let alone tell them my name or write. They took my letter and I sat down. The room was busy - full, of really unwell people. I saw the nurse, who checked me and told me it "will not be long" before I got to see the doctor.
Three and a half hours later, my husband, mum and miss "alsmost 2" at my side, I was still waiting. I lay on a small couch in the busy main corridor of the hospital - because I could not bare to be upright. I kept my eyes shut and periodically faded in and out of "awareness" - which I figured later was consciousness. I shivered with cold and couldn't stand any noise.
They called my name. By this point, I could barely stand, nor walk. I could not control my body in the least. I was beginning to convulse, hyperventilate and cry - at the same time.
The nurse ordered blood tests be done immediately, drip was inserted because I was severely dehydrated. My fever was running high.
The doctor was in shortly after, and I was checked all over and asked a multitude of questions (for the 4th time). He left to talk to his boss, and the nurse stayed with me.
The first few drops of morphine - were literally like heaven (haha). For the first time, I felt much less pain and could open my eyes.
I sobbed and sobbed - "what about my baby....??"
The doctor returned. I had meningitis. He suspected it was viral meningitis due to some of the onsetting symptoms I had, he was happy to diagnose me without any futher tests.
He told me that they cannot treat viral meningitis. It is also not considered "dangerous" like bacterial meningitis is. They would give me some pain killers and send me home, that I would have a headache and be sick for a couple of weeks and then start to come right.
But I was given a choice. Little did I know - the choice was likely to mean the difference between life and death.
If I left, and got worse, I had to come back to ED. And join the back of the line in waiting again. I would not have returned. The wait was too agonising and traumatising as it was, let alone to do it a second time.
He said the other choice, was to have a lumbar puncture done - which would actually diagnose whether I had bacterial or viral meningitis.
I felt incredibly compassionate towards the other very sick people who were in the waiting room, waiting for a bed in the ED. I felt swayed to go home.
But deep inside me somewhere - I knew something just wasn't right.
So I asked for the lumbar puncture.
The LP wasn't as bad as I expected (or had been told by others). It's not a nice thing to have done, but I did not care for fact that it would help make me better.
A couple of hours later, I was diagnosed with bacterial meningitis. Much to the doctor's surprise. An ultra-sound was done to check baby - and there was lots of movement and a perfect heart rate. *Sigh of relief*
Mum had taken miss "almost 2" home for dinner and bath, hubby then had to leave to pick her up and get her to bed. Later, without warning, I was collected by two people with plastic gowns from head to toe, and masks on - and delivered to my room. The masks and gowns were part of my life for two days - until I was no longer "contagious".
I felt like an enemy of the human race - biological warfare waiting to be released or something. At one point, I had five medical staff in my small room, peering at me from behind their peculiar costumes.
For the next 8 days I lay in hospital - in a room completely dark. My visitors actually thought I was sleeping - but I couldn't handle even the faintest light. I could not read or write. I could not even bear to look at pictures.
I could maintain an upright position for only 5 minutes, before suffering excruciating pain and needing to sleep.
I never knew how the wriggles and kicks of a tiny baby could be such a relief. The baby is alive. But even more, I am alive.
I had meltdowns in the middle of the night. I had panic attacks in the night (and day). I felt depressed and alone, but any visitors made me physically and emotionally exhausted.
One morning, I couldn't even open the small packet of jam to put on my toast. I called the nurse, in tears, who opened it - then I couldn't even use my knife. The sheer frustration of wanting to do a simple task, but physically not being able to, was terrible.
I desperately wanted my God to come and make me well, sometimes I wondered why all this had happened and where He had got to. But I knew He would never leave me, nor would He make me sick, or "allow" me to be sick.
People came to pray for me, my family was desperately praying for me, my friends were desperately praying for me, my church was desperately praying for me - people I don't even know were crying out to heaven for me.
And I can truly say that I am SURE, if it weren't for God, I would have died. I am greatful for the prayers of many warriors who cried out for me in my despair. And who are still crying out for my total healing.
I finally came home. Still in incredible pain, afraid of light and unable to do most things. My arms were like those of an addict from all the IV's and blood tests. My husband, looked glazed and stressed. His busiest time with his work, an incredibly ill wife and a demanding child.
Then came the helps. Dinners cooked and delivered every night. Babysitters, house-cleaners, people just to sit with me. Vouchers for special trips to a cafe. What stars I have for family, friends and wider church family.
Each day since coming home, I have improved. I can now read and write again. I can stand light although sometimes get a slight headache or uncomfortable feeling. I am barely in any pain apart from my back and tailbone are still quite sore.
My brain is sometimes still slow, speech sometimes slurred and occasionally loud or sharp noises still hurt my head. I am off balance - which makes me afraid of large groups of people or things like crossing a busy road/carpark. I cannot hear or see as well as I could.
I recognise that there is not only the physical damage on my body (which I believe I will make a FULL recovery from), but there is also a lot of emotional trauma which I am working through.
BUT...
I am greatful. I am so greatful to be alive that the very thought moves me to tears. I am greatful to be able to hear/see and do most of the things that I used to. I am greatful to tuck my sweet little princess in at night, and experience the joy of her laughter - even just one more time. I am greatful to look my husband in the eyes and tell him I love him - even just one more time.
I am greatful for all the people who have been pouring themselves out for my benefit. Because they believe in me being well again.
I am greatful to be given another chance at life - because I sure didn't live the last chance I had as much as I wanted to.
I am greatful that I serve a God who WANTS to heal people. Who DELIGHTS in healing the sick and doing miracles. A God who is real, and who loves fiercely.
I know, that as I lay there fighting for my life, in the darkest moments - He truly sat in the chair next to my bed keeping watch. Willing me to rise again. Willing me to live.
x
Monday, 14 February 2011
Would you like trim, or full fat milk with that????
Sometimes - I forget to be thankful.
Three weeks after our wedding, I turned 21. For my birthday, my husband bought me this amazing (and expensive) espresso machine.
3 and a half years on, I have to confess that I haven't used it all that much.
Most people that know me, know I LOVE a good coffee. Really LOVE. I enjoy coffee dates more than nearly anything else. A celebration for me, is best celebrated in a coffee date & a card.
But I've hardly used my coffee machine....??
Ok, so there are reasons. It is partly to do with the fact that I don't do trim milk. And to me, trim and latte in the same sentence is ridiculous. It's like having a massive feed of macca's and having a diet coke. (I must also confess that I do just that).
In the year following our wedding, I worked at losing 20kgs. Full fat milk coffee's on a regular basis were just not going to work in achieving this goal. So, the machine got neglected.
That is pretty much the only good reason I have, apart from making them takes time - but probably less time than boiling the jug and preparing for a perk or (dare I say it) instant.
Anywho - on the thankfulness part.
Last week, I randomly started discovering tiny baby white-tail spiders on my bench. With ant-sized bodies. Being pregnant, of course - this was much of an over-reacted drama series, inclusive of very premature nesting. I pulled out the oven and fridge and cleaning everything and fly-spraying everything.
Of course - just like one of those terrifying films, it didn't work. I was still finding baby white-tails on my bench. Some dead (mostly because of the gallons of fly spray floating in the atmosphere at my disposal) - but most of them ALIVE!
All I could imagine was eventually finding this massive nest of white-tails all running frantically - and FURIOUS mumma ones who are going to bite me all over. (Yes I am a walking drama sometimes.)
Well, after a search operation, I discovered their source. They were alive and kicking in bulk, inside my COFFEE MACHINE!
On the discovery of this, they were completely obliterated by fly-spray. If that did not kill them, they probably would have drowned in it anyway. I found no adult ones, there was no drama - it all happened very slowly. After all, I was pretty sure an ant-sized one couldn't really do much harm.
The point is - it made me think about the fact that I have this amazing, well thought out gift - from my best friend. I have hardly shown my appreciation for it, apart from that it takesup a lot of space on my tiny bench a prized position on my bench.
My husband is NOT at all a gift giver, nor is he a card writer. I purchase all the gifts in our house. He gets really stressed when it comes to our anniversary, my birthday, Christmas or Valentine's day - when he has to think about a gift or something 'romantic' to do. It does not at all come naturally to him. In fact, it works best if a few weeks before my birthday I write him a list of things I would/could like, and he picks something. Or, like he has done for the last two years, he gives me money.
This gift was thought out, meaningful and something awesome! I have sent a pretty poor message of appreciation for it.
Perhaps it's time we sit and just have a little think about thankfulness. What kind of message of thankfulness are you demonstrating to your family, your love and your kids?
Happy Valentine's Day New Zealand! Make sure you tell those people who are special that you love them! ♥
Three weeks after our wedding, I turned 21. For my birthday, my husband bought me this amazing (and expensive) espresso machine.
3 and a half years on, I have to confess that I haven't used it all that much.
Most people that know me, know I LOVE a good coffee. Really LOVE. I enjoy coffee dates more than nearly anything else. A celebration for me, is best celebrated in a coffee date & a card.
But I've hardly used my coffee machine....??
Ok, so there are reasons. It is partly to do with the fact that I don't do trim milk. And to me, trim and latte in the same sentence is ridiculous. It's like having a massive feed of macca's and having a diet coke. (I must also confess that I do just that).
In the year following our wedding, I worked at losing 20kgs. Full fat milk coffee's on a regular basis were just not going to work in achieving this goal. So, the machine got neglected.
That is pretty much the only good reason I have, apart from making them takes time - but probably less time than boiling the jug and preparing for a perk or (dare I say it) instant.
Anywho - on the thankfulness part.
Last week, I randomly started discovering tiny baby white-tail spiders on my bench. With ant-sized bodies. Being pregnant, of course - this was much of an over-reacted drama series, inclusive of very premature nesting. I pulled out the oven and fridge and cleaning everything and fly-spraying everything.
Of course - just like one of those terrifying films, it didn't work. I was still finding baby white-tails on my bench. Some dead (mostly because of the gallons of fly spray floating in the atmosphere at my disposal) - but most of them ALIVE!
All I could imagine was eventually finding this massive nest of white-tails all running frantically - and FURIOUS mumma ones who are going to bite me all over. (Yes I am a walking drama sometimes.)
Well, after a search operation, I discovered their source. They were alive and kicking in bulk, inside my COFFEE MACHINE!
On the discovery of this, they were completely obliterated by fly-spray. If that did not kill them, they probably would have drowned in it anyway. I found no adult ones, there was no drama - it all happened very slowly. After all, I was pretty sure an ant-sized one couldn't really do much harm.
The point is - it made me think about the fact that I have this amazing, well thought out gift - from my best friend. I have hardly shown my appreciation for it, apart from that it takes
My husband is NOT at all a gift giver, nor is he a card writer. I purchase all the gifts in our house. He gets really stressed when it comes to our anniversary, my birthday, Christmas or Valentine's day - when he has to think about a gift or something 'romantic' to do. It does not at all come naturally to him. In fact, it works best if a few weeks before my birthday I write him a list of things I would/could like, and he picks something. Or, like he has done for the last two years, he gives me money.
This gift was thought out, meaningful and something awesome! I have sent a pretty poor message of appreciation for it.
Perhaps it's time we sit and just have a little think about thankfulness. What kind of message of thankfulness are you demonstrating to your family, your love and your kids?
Happy Valentine's Day New Zealand! Make sure you tell those people who are special that you love them! ♥
Thursday, 25 November 2010
Questions in crisis....
I was going to post a whole lot of pictures about my week, but I will leave that for another day.
Today, our Nation is mourning a great loss. 29 good men have died in the Pike River Mining disaster. A tragedy.
In times like this, words cannot really describe the anguish that the people are feeling. Words do not console.
As a Christian, many people turn to you for answers. People ask questions like - "where was God?", "why do bad things happen?", "why didn't He stop it from happening?"
While I cannot answer those questions, and tears fill my eyes each time I get asked another - I can offer something. God's heart hurts more than anyones over this loss. He grieves, because He too has lost. He does not will that people should die young, nor does He want people to die before knowing Him.
Anger and questions and doubts and worries are all a part of the grief process, and they are all ok. Let grief come. My prayer is in the midst of this horrible storm, people will look and see how big, how loving and how great God is. He is the comforter. He can give new hope.
My heart, prayers and thoughts are toward the whole town of Greymouth right now. You are all hurting and we as a nation are hurting with you.
I feel there is an appropriate song for this tragedy in our nation:-
I love the bridge, very relevant...
Fee, Everything falls apart
You said
you'd never leave or forsake me
when you said,
this life is gonna shake me
and you said
this world is gonna bring trouble on my soul
this I know
When everything falls apart
Your arms hold me together
When everything falls apart
You're the only hope for this heart
When everything falls apart
And my strength is gone
I find you mighty and strong
You keep holding on
You keep holding on
When I see
Darkness all around me
When I see
That tragedy has found me
I still believe
Your faithful arms will never let me go
and still I know
When everything falls apart
Your arms hold me together
When everything falls apart
You're the only hope for this heart
When everything falls apart
And my strength is gone
I find you mighty and strong
You keep holding on
You keep holding on
Sorrow will last for the night
but hope is rising with the sun
(it’s rising with the sun)
and there will be storms in this life
but I know you have overcome
You have overcome
x
Today, our Nation is mourning a great loss. 29 good men have died in the Pike River Mining disaster. A tragedy.
In times like this, words cannot really describe the anguish that the people are feeling. Words do not console.
As a Christian, many people turn to you for answers. People ask questions like - "where was God?", "why do bad things happen?", "why didn't He stop it from happening?"
While I cannot answer those questions, and tears fill my eyes each time I get asked another - I can offer something. God's heart hurts more than anyones over this loss. He grieves, because He too has lost. He does not will that people should die young, nor does He want people to die before knowing Him.
Anger and questions and doubts and worries are all a part of the grief process, and they are all ok. Let grief come. My prayer is in the midst of this horrible storm, people will look and see how big, how loving and how great God is. He is the comforter. He can give new hope.
My heart, prayers and thoughts are toward the whole town of Greymouth right now. You are all hurting and we as a nation are hurting with you.
I feel there is an appropriate song for this tragedy in our nation:-
I love the bridge, very relevant...
Fee, Everything falls apart
You said
you'd never leave or forsake me
when you said,
this life is gonna shake me
and you said
this world is gonna bring trouble on my soul
this I know
When everything falls apart
Your arms hold me together
When everything falls apart
You're the only hope for this heart
When everything falls apart
And my strength is gone
I find you mighty and strong
You keep holding on
You keep holding on
When I see
Darkness all around me
When I see
That tragedy has found me
I still believe
Your faithful arms will never let me go
and still I know
When everything falls apart
Your arms hold me together
When everything falls apart
You're the only hope for this heart
When everything falls apart
And my strength is gone
I find you mighty and strong
You keep holding on
You keep holding on
Sorrow will last for the night
but hope is rising with the sun
(it’s rising with the sun)
and there will be storms in this life
but I know you have overcome
You have overcome
x
Tuesday, 9 November 2010
I always wanted to dance....
When I was a young girl, I always dreamed and hoped, that one day I could be a ballet dancer, or be good at gymnastics.
I totally love shows like dancing with the stars. I love the rythmic gymnastics in the Olympic games - I could watch people dance for hours. Modern dance has lead to hip-hop, and jazz and other genres - and I certainly love watching a good, clean dance piece.
Well, in my recent 'journey' - I realised that not having the opportunity to dance as a little girl - (the finance being one reason, and having an 'unlikely' dance figure being the other) - had actually left a bit of a hole in me. Quite a big one.
A part of me, in need of redemption - by the Lover of my Soul.
Now I'm a rather out-going person, but tofrollick unskillfully and prance around 'dance' where others can see me (apart from husband and child) is TOTALLY out of my comfort zone.
So in this journey of freedom finding - I have discovered something - I can dance like a six year old - in front of my Daddy (Jesus) - and He thinks I'm LOVELY!!!!!(Even if every other human being thinks I'm nuts.) And you know what - if I'm dancing for Him - I don't really give a stuff what anyone else thinks.
I have long thought that if the church could just get FREE and dance before our King - maybe we'd do better than the night clubs at reaching people. We need people who are FREE, (who don't need a dose of liquor in them) - just loving God and loving themselves & each other.
Young people just LOVE to dance. Most people just LOVE to dance.
Friday night youth - yes - I danced...
Sunday morning church - yes I danced...with ribbons! mind you, I had two beautiful, FREE, 6 year olds standing beside me, ribbons in hand, not caring what the 300 or so other people in the room thought.
Was it fun - HECK YES!!!! Did it make my God smile - HECK YES!!!! and I couldn't help but laugh when I got a very approving grin from the other side of the room - my Daddy in law.
So God is redeeming this area of my heart - where this unlikely young woman in the eyes of the world - looks at the face of my Creator - and JUST WANTS TO DANCE.
I am DANCING - and loving every moment.
Perhaps my next shopping expedition will be looking for tights & a tutu.
I totally love shows like dancing with the stars. I love the rythmic gymnastics in the Olympic games - I could watch people dance for hours. Modern dance has lead to hip-hop, and jazz and other genres - and I certainly love watching a good, clean dance piece.
Well, in my recent 'journey' - I realised that not having the opportunity to dance as a little girl - (the finance being one reason, and having an 'unlikely' dance figure being the other) - had actually left a bit of a hole in me. Quite a big one.
A part of me, in need of redemption - by the Lover of my Soul.
Now I'm a rather out-going person, but to
So in this journey of freedom finding - I have discovered something - I can dance like a six year old - in front of my Daddy (Jesus) - and He thinks I'm LOVELY!!!!!
I have long thought that if the church could just get FREE and dance before our King - maybe we'd do better than the night clubs at reaching people. We need people who are FREE, (who don't need a dose of liquor in them) - just loving God and loving themselves & each other.
Young people just LOVE to dance. Most people just LOVE to dance.
Friday night youth - yes - I danced...
Sunday morning church - yes I danced...with ribbons! mind you, I had two beautiful, FREE, 6 year olds standing beside me, ribbons in hand, not caring what the 300 or so other people in the room thought.
Was it fun - HECK YES!!!! Did it make my God smile - HECK YES!!!! and I couldn't help but laugh when I got a very approving grin from the other side of the room - my Daddy in law.
So God is redeeming this area of my heart - where this unlikely young woman in the eyes of the world - looks at the face of my Creator - and JUST WANTS TO DANCE.
I am DANCING - and loving every moment.
Perhaps my next shopping expedition will be looking for tights & a tutu.
Tuesday, 2 November 2010
For all the joy....
Learning I was going to become a mum in a little less than nine months came as a surprise. It was a big deal to me... a real big deal.
Look at it like this - career sorted > my choice of promotions laid out before me > big money > big opportunities > pay off mortgage before 30 = kids come later.
[caption id="attachment_80" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="not to mention getting "fat""]
[/caption]
Any woman who has ever had the surprise of being pregnant will know what I mean when I say I had some crazy thoughts. All of a sudden I could sympathise with women who have abortions - though I don't think that "option" is the right choice. I felt like I was losing my life. I grieved for what my life was before - before this little life in me became such a part of me.
So my baby was born, all 7lb 7oz of her in naked splendour - and her mummies life just changed forever.
[caption id="attachment_81" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="God is good"]
[/caption]
Two years on, that little life - the one that in the early months I forgot was in me (until the next bout of nausea) * the one I saw on the scan - at just 12 weeks - moving, kicking, sucking her tiny thumb * the one the Father named and prophesied over while I was grieving about my life * the one I felt move - which re-assured me "she's alive," * the one I bore in pain, with water and blood.....
She serves as a great reminder to me. A reminder that Jesus bore me - in pain, with water and blood.
[caption id="attachment_83" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="Girls just wanna have fun"]
[/caption]
She is the delight of my life. She brings so much joy. God gave her to me, to remind me that I had dreams long before I had a career and opportunity on a platter. Dreams that far surpassed the boring life my "career" could offer me.
According to wikipedia: Lily of the valley is considered the sign of Christ's second coming. The power of men to envision a better world.
In the "language of flowers", the lily of the valley signifies the return of happiness.
Life for me in the few years leading up to the birth of Lily, was pretty dull. Plagued with depression, stress, sickness, misunderstandings and many other difficulties. It was much like a valley - a deserted one. Not much grows in valleys or deserts. Not much grows in a life full of deep pain.
I have realised a few things in my almost 18 months of motherhood:
Recently, a man of God - and also a great friend - (you can read about him here http://www.symondrake.com/) - he had a word from God for me. That was - "this is your happy season". He didn't know how right he was.
Lily of the valley = the return of happiness
I'm on a journey. Being stripped of all the stuff I've allowed in or filled my life with over the years, that just wasn't "me". Being reminded of who I am, because of who He is. It's a painful process, but I'm being made FREE.
FREE = HAPPY
And tonight, the two of us sat in front of the mirror - with a camera, and squealed and fussed and had fun - just me and my girl, my Lily. I'm so grateful for her - I wouldn't trade this for anything...
You can be FREE too.
Look at it like this - career sorted > my choice of promotions laid out before me > big money > big opportunities > pay off mortgage before 30 = kids come later.
[caption id="attachment_80" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="not to mention getting "fat""]
[/caption]Any woman who has ever had the surprise of being pregnant will know what I mean when I say I had some crazy thoughts. All of a sudden I could sympathise with women who have abortions - though I don't think that "option" is the right choice. I felt like I was losing my life. I grieved for what my life was before - before this little life in me became such a part of me.
So my baby was born, all 7lb 7oz of her in naked splendour - and her mummies life just changed forever.
[caption id="attachment_81" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="God is good"]
[/caption]Two years on, that little life - the one that in the early months I forgot was in me (until the next bout of nausea) * the one I saw on the scan - at just 12 weeks - moving, kicking, sucking her tiny thumb * the one the Father named and prophesied over while I was grieving about my life * the one I felt move - which re-assured me "she's alive," * the one I bore in pain, with water and blood.....
She serves as a great reminder to me. A reminder that Jesus bore me - in pain, with water and blood.
[caption id="attachment_83" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="Girls just wanna have fun"]
[/caption]She is the delight of my life. She brings so much joy. God gave her to me, to remind me that I had dreams long before I had a career and opportunity on a platter. Dreams that far surpassed the boring life my "career" could offer me.
According to wikipedia: Lily of the valley is considered the sign of Christ's second coming. The power of men to envision a better world.
In the "language of flowers", the lily of the valley signifies the return of happiness.
Life for me in the few years leading up to the birth of Lily, was pretty dull. Plagued with depression, stress, sickness, misunderstandings and many other difficulties. It was much like a valley - a deserted one. Not much grows in valleys or deserts. Not much grows in a life full of deep pain.
I have realised a few things in my almost 18 months of motherhood:
- I expect far too much of myself
- I let others expect far too much of me
- I shouldn't read 'all those books' on parenting, before I'm a parent
- Babies don't do what 'all those books' say they will or should
- Next time round I will read less, and rest more
- I don't have to please anyone but Jesus
- Not everyone understands the choice of being a 'stay at home mum'
- Not everyone needs to understand
- Mum's are amazing
- Becoming a mum changes your friendships
- Love people and let them go
- Don't sweat the small stuff
- Let the children play - in the mud, puddles, dirt, rain, pantry....
- I can be a child again
- Mother in laws are amazing women, who should be loved, treasured and discovered
- Have hobbies aside from being a mum
- Jesus remembers our dreams and will get us back on track when we forget them
- Jesus heals depression, He wants us to be whole and FREE
- Love Jesus with everything
- Enjoy the moment
Recently, a man of God - and also a great friend - (you can read about him here http://www.symondrake.com/) - he had a word from God for me. That was - "this is your happy season". He didn't know how right he was.
Lily of the valley = the return of happiness
I'm on a journey. Being stripped of all the stuff I've allowed in or filled my life with over the years, that just wasn't "me". Being reminded of who I am, because of who He is. It's a painful process, but I'm being made FREE.
FREE = HAPPY
And tonight, the two of us sat in front of the mirror - with a camera, and squealed and fussed and had fun - just me and my girl, my Lily. I'm so grateful for her - I wouldn't trade this for anything...
You can be FREE too.
Thursday, 28 October 2010
Gold mining
I'm sure many people wonder - what do you do when life throws changes, and challenges at you, that you didn't initiate...
When every part of you aches, your heart breaks over and over, so many misunderstandings - and there's emptiness in so many once treasured memories, photographs, conversations, moments....
Sometimes it feels like we are just like onions.... made of gold. You peel back one layer, and you just find more gold underneath. Hidden gold, beauty that only a Creator could put there.
The same goes for the coal... You peel back a layer of pain and ugliness, and you just seem to find another layer of the 'stuff'. Stuff.... sorrow, grief, pain, wrong dealt to us by others, wrong that is a consequence of our own choices. Wrong perceptions of ourselves, wrong perceptions of others. There's so much 'stuff.'
[caption id="attachment_55" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="He holds my coal in the palm of His hands....."]
[/caption]
This past year I have been on a journey. I have seen some parts of me that have been very ugly. I have faced some very deep pain that has been imbedded in me from a long time ago.
Thankfully, the journey has been led by someone who is far greater than myself.
I've discovered that God is part of a great exchange. He doesn't want to let us live in our pain. Sometimes we can think that we have it all together, and then another layer gets peeled back. Ouch.
He is wholeness. He is life. That is what He has for us. He is my Daddy - and He's good. All the time.
I have learnt that a battle shared is a battle won. Victory was never meant to be one person's alone. We are made to stand with each other and lead each other to victory.
You never know the depths someone is being taken to through lifes circumstances. If we all got a glimpse of each other's pain, we'd be a lot more patient with each other.
[caption id="attachment_57" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Gold mining - commonly done in rivers and water"]
[/caption]
Recently, I have decided to, and made a conscious effort to see the gold in people. I want to peel back one layer of gold, and find another. I want to honour people for who they are, not who they are not.
[caption id="attachment_58" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Coal mining - usually done underground in caves"]
[/caption]
I have chosen (against my will many times) to speak good of people, when I could find many valid bad things to say.
I create life with my words, and my actions. I also create death.
When coal is mined - then burned; it covers everything around it in soot. We could all go hunt for coal, BURN it - create smoke so everyone can see it and many can feel it...
Gold just doesn't get burnt.
I think the world would be a different place if we all went gold mining.
[caption id="attachment_59" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="The world is full of gold, if we just look for it-"]
[/caption]
When every part of you aches, your heart breaks over and over, so many misunderstandings - and there's emptiness in so many once treasured memories, photographs, conversations, moments....
Sometimes it feels like we are just like onions.... made of gold. You peel back one layer, and you just find more gold underneath. Hidden gold, beauty that only a Creator could put there.
The same goes for the coal... You peel back a layer of pain and ugliness, and you just seem to find another layer of the 'stuff'. Stuff.... sorrow, grief, pain, wrong dealt to us by others, wrong that is a consequence of our own choices. Wrong perceptions of ourselves, wrong perceptions of others. There's so much 'stuff.'
[caption id="attachment_55" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="He holds my coal in the palm of His hands....."]
[/caption]This past year I have been on a journey. I have seen some parts of me that have been very ugly. I have faced some very deep pain that has been imbedded in me from a long time ago.
Thankfully, the journey has been led by someone who is far greater than myself.
I've discovered that God is part of a great exchange. He doesn't want to let us live in our pain. Sometimes we can think that we have it all together, and then another layer gets peeled back. Ouch.
He is wholeness. He is life. That is what He has for us. He is my Daddy - and He's good. All the time.
I have learnt that a battle shared is a battle won. Victory was never meant to be one person's alone. We are made to stand with each other and lead each other to victory.
You never know the depths someone is being taken to through lifes circumstances. If we all got a glimpse of each other's pain, we'd be a lot more patient with each other.
[caption id="attachment_57" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Gold mining - commonly done in rivers and water"]
[/caption]Recently, I have decided to, and made a conscious effort to see the gold in people. I want to peel back one layer of gold, and find another. I want to honour people for who they are, not who they are not.
[caption id="attachment_58" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Coal mining - usually done underground in caves"]
[/caption]I have chosen (against my will many times) to speak good of people, when I could find many valid bad things to say.
I create life with my words, and my actions. I also create death.
When coal is mined - then burned; it covers everything around it in soot. We could all go hunt for coal, BURN it - create smoke so everyone can see it and many can feel it...
Gold just doesn't get burnt.
I think the world would be a different place if we all went gold mining.
[caption id="attachment_59" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="The world is full of gold, if we just look for it-"]
[/caption]
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