First steps

In case you thought this was romantic

Today I woke to the knowledge that we will sign up our house for sale. Our home.

I went for a walk. I walked and I cried. I cried that you would take this cup from me. I cried for the home I had made that my children will never hold in their memories. I cried that I am asked to take them to live among filth and depravity. I cried that I will not dress them in their sweet school uniforms or watch them dance along manicured paths picking up honkey nuts. I cried that my daughter will leave behind her purple bike with the cute basket. I cried that I won’t be able to eat cheezels anymore. I cried for all the times I was dissatisfied and wanted more. I cried, not my will but yours.

I’m afraid. Afraid of the cost. Afraid of failure. Afraid of living without comfort. Afraid of not being able to provide financially for my children. I’m afraid of you God. I’m afraid to follow you. I’m afraid because following you doesn’t mean an easy life; it means giving my life.

I’m grateful. Grateful for a husband who grapples these feelings and doubts with me. I understand that if I had chased the manicured life, if you hadn’t challenged me, then our relationship would not be as strong as it is today. Loving you, following you, shouting at you, crying to you, submitting to you has knitted us together and bound us to you, the 3 string cord that is hard to break. That cord, I have learned, is to be put to work.

I am at peace. I am ok to fail. I trust you.

I will follow you, but don’t be offended if I cry like a baby in the backseat, ok?

Reckless

I buckled my new born into her car seat and dragged my sleep deprived body into the car one Saturday night. I was determined to still have a life post baby, and so I was taking myself out.

I  drove up to a T junction and turned right onto a busy road. Cruising along I started to notice a car flashing their lights at me. So annoying. I checked… no I didn’t have  my lights on high beam. Then another one flashed, STOP FLASHING ME YOU LOSERS. Still more lights flashing. WHAT?! Did I have a flat tire? No. Was I accidentally towing someone whose tie got stuck in my back window? No. What the? And then the beeping of horns. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE. I wasn’t speeding, I was doing 80kmph. My lights were on. Man, people can be so annoying. I continued on because clearly these people had lost their mind. Soon enough, bright orange lights pierced through my window at me, as a tow truck headed straight towards me with his emergency lights flashing. WHAT NOW? You are heading straight for me mate! I slow down, and he keeps coming. I screech to a halt off to the side of the road as he virtually pushes me aside with his bumper.

“Are you drunk” he yells at me? The cheek! He runs me off the road and asks if I am drunk?!

“You are on the wrong side of the road.”

And then it dawns on me. I had turned right onto a double lane carriageway and had been travelling at night at 80kmph on the wrong side of the road into oncoming traffic.

Oops.

My stomach fell into my socks as the realisation hit me. Reckless. I had been unbelievably reckless with my precious newborn in the car, putting countless others at risk, without even knowing it.

And so it is with recklessness. Sometimes what we think is safe, is actually incredibly reckless.

Perhaps we have been sold a lie, that we are on the safe path.

In fact, that’s his plan isn’t it? To fool us? That we might feel safe, that we might feel secure in our choices that are not of God?

What makes you feel safe?

What does the bible say?

Psalm 62:7 and 8    The Message (MSG)

  My help and glory are in God—granite-strength and safe-harbor-God— So trust him absolutely, people; lay your lives on the line for him. God is a safe place to be.

 It’s reckless to put our trust in the things of this world. It seems so right, but it’s actually driving on the wrong side of the road and it puts ourselves and others at risk.

It’s safe to trust in God fully and completely.

It’s safe to lay our lives on the line for him

Shattered

Shattered

I hate puzzles.

I mean sure, if you want me to come along after you have been working on a puzzle for hours and put the last 10 pieces in, I’ll oblige. But generally I am puzzle averse.

You know you can buy pictures that aren’t broken into pieces right?

And don’t EVEN with the where’s Wally puzzle. Where’s Wally? I DON’T CARE!

And of course we all get the whole puzzle of life. I’m SUPER pumped that my life may resemble 2 kittens, or an old cottage on a hill once the pieces are all put together. *thumbs up emoji*

But what about when your life gets shattered into a million pieces, and there’s no great picture to assemble, it’s just broken.

You’ve got nothing left.  A bomb went off and the shrapnel hit everyone around you, and you are all just barely alive.

What about that.

I reckon you’d be stoked if your Instagram inspo for the day was this verse:

Matthew 5    The Message (MSG)

3 “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.

What the? *wide eyes flushed cheeks emoji*

Don’t you mean you’re blessed when your life is awesome? Like when your life is so freaking awesome its social media newsworthy?

#blessed.

And excuse me, but what if I am at the end of my rope, in fact my rope has dwindled down to what resembles a piece of old dental floss that the kids have left on the bathroom bench for me to clean up, and I’m clinging to it like it’s a matter of life and death waiting for God to catch me. And I’m blessed?

#shattered = #blessed… are you serious? *eye roll emoji*

With less of me there is more of God and his rule.

Yay…?

Well, I’ve always wanted to be like Corrie Ten Boom in the book “The Hiding Place”. You know when she gets moved into a lice infested dorm room in a concentration camp, and says, Cheers God for this blessing!  Because this means she will be left alone (due to the nits crawling all over her) and she will have more time to share with other nit infested people about him.

*teeth clench emoji*

But I’m not like Corrie Ten Boom. I’m a whingeing snot.

I DON'T WANT THERE TO BE LESS OF ME AND MORE OF YOU.

Awkward but true. *downcast emoji*

So given my work in progress status, I’m going to remember that there is blessing in the struggle because even a whinging frightened selfish clinging to dental floss approach to God is better than indifference.

My approach to life and suffering may be deeply flawed, but God isn’t.

When there is less of me, there is more of him.

*praising hands emoji*