Tag Archives: living

God’s pleasure

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It’s no secret that I love beauty. And I love art, whether that’s the written word, a painting, a sculpture, a play, dance – I love all forms of creative expression.

After our Thailand trip, I admit to struggling with my own creative desires. I would love nothing better than to be creative all day, every day, to write and paint to my hearts content. I have created just one piece of visual art since we moved into this house nearly six years ago. I have written only a handful of words on my story in the last six months. And I miss it. My creative side longs for an outlet. I have been keen to get in the kitchen and cook lately, and I only just realised that it’s the need to ‘create’, that this burning desire in me must find some sort of expression.

While I love and appreciate the arts, I feel guilty when I spend time on it myself. There are girls living in such horrific circumstances – how can getting the paints out help them? How does my story benefit anyone?

I used to struggle immensely with creating for seemingly no purpose. If I was going to paint, I wanted it to be for more than just something I put in a bottom drawer. If I was going to write, I wanted it to be an international best seller and not just a story my family read.

Now, I am happy to paint or write for the pleasure of only one or two, even if that’s just me. No, the struggle now is that there are so many people who need helping, that spending time on my arts seems selfish and self-indulgent.

The other day, I heard someone on the radio talking about feeling God’s pleasure when you do something that might not immediately seem to be ‘worthy’ by our standards. I have always believed that the God who created the amazing world we live in is surely the ultimate Artist but it really struck me afresh.

God created us with talents and gifts. He intended us to use them.

So my paintings may never be anything other than something to hang on a wall in my house, my story may never do anything other than provide entertainment to a couple of people…so what? They have served their purpose already, anything else is a bonus.

So the test is – do I feel God’s pleasure when I create? I would have to say yes. Being creative satisfies me in a deep down soul fulfilling way that I can’t seem to get anywhere else.

I feel right and good and wholly alive.

I feel God’s pleasure.

Understanding new life

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I have never been in any life or death situations, so I can’t fully comprehend the feeling that comes with news of a potential death sentence that is at the last minute revoked.

A friend of mine and her family have been facing this very thing. Their beautiful daughter, diagnosed with leukaemia in August last year, have now been given the news that there are no more leukaemia cells. Their daughter is well on the road to recovery.

Their joy is palpable – their daughter has been given new life! I think I can speak on behalf of all their friends when I say that we share that joy.

On Easter Sunday, we remember and are joyful that through the resurrection of Jesus, we too, have been given new life. Just as my friend’s daughter can now embrace this new lease on life she has been given, we, who call Jesus our Saviour, can too.

When in Thailand, I was struck by the rescued girls level of gratitude and sheer joy for the new life they have been given. Those who have lived through hell on earth, as my friend and her family have, as these girls have, are highly aware of exactly what they have been saved from. There is a depth to their thankfulness that those of us who have not had such experiences would do well to emulate.

It’s easy to dismiss the resurrection as just another Sunday, even easy to recognise that we have been given new life and acknowledge it, easy to accept the new life and….easy to live with not much thanks for that.

The enormity of being given new life is real to those who fully understand it.

One of the problems with the Western church is we don’t fully understand what we have been saved from. We haven’t grasped the fact that we needed saving.

We say “I got saved” instead of “Jesus saved me”.

We still think we have a part to play in our own salvation.

My friend would not say that it was her who gave her daughter new life, she would give all the credit to the donor, and the doctors – her job was to trust they would do what needed to be done. The rescued girls don’t credit themselves for the new life they now live, they credit the Destiny Rescue staff and God – all they needed to do was trust that what was offered was true.

Likewise, we need to understand the situation we are in, and then trust that the new life we are offered by the resurrection is true.

It’s nothing to do with us. It’s not our efforts that give us new life but the wonder of resurrection.

 

 

2013, here I come!

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Well, happy new year everyone :)

2012, while not as challenging as 2011, certainly was no picnic, so I am crossing fingers, toes and anything else that will bend that way, for a bigger and better 2013.

If you read my monthly column, or even this blog last year, you might know that I detest new years resolutions (you can read last year’s rant here). I do, however, like goal setting. What the difference is, I’m not quite sure, but we go with what works, don’t we? :)

In just under two weeks, Chalky and I will be up, up and away and in Thailand (you can read about why and how, here), so the year definitely holds an adventure or two for us, that’s for sure.

But what about when we come back? What do I want the rest of the year to look like?

I think there is a strong chance I will come back freshly motivated and enthusiastic to make money. How can I go to a country and be with children who have been sold into the sex slave industry, where most people live in sub-standard (by Western society) conditions and come back wanting to make money?

Easy. I think I will want to increase our income so we can increase theirs. I hope that once I have seen the level of need and talked to staff at Destiny Rescue about what is in high demand, I will come home with a better idea of how to help. My guess is that money is going to be a big factor. In order to give more, I’m going to need more, so I think a renewed passion for our business and how we can increase our own revenue in order to increase our giving, will be likely.

On an individual level, my two goals are to finish the first draft of my novel (my beta readers will be pleased!) and get my final qualifications for Bowen therapy.

There is also one specific change I want to make. I am going to aim at spending 15 minutes a day doing nothing but being. No games on my iphone, no facebook, no book, no music. Just me and….me. I have realised coming into the new year how little I do that. And I have a sneaking suspicion it just might do me good to simply be, even if only for 15 minutes a day.

What are your goals, intentions and plans for this brand spanking new year?

The way you make me feel.

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Last week, I rang a business I had never called before, looking to enlist their services. The lady on the phone was a little abrupt and then, straight after she had asked a relevant question and I had begun to answer, it became clear to me that she wasn’t listening. And then it became abundantly clear when she started talking to someone else and I could hear him answering her, you know, like a proper conversation. A bit like the one she should have been having with me.

I stopped talking and waited for her to finish this other conversation that was obviously far more important than procuring my new business. I ended the conversation fairly shortly after that.

Funnily enough, I don’t think I’ll use this particular company.

Now, of course, we could talk about customer service (or lack thereof) but what it made me start to wonder is why? Why did it put me off so quickly? Why does that mean I’ll not be calling this company again for their services?

It’s because of how it made me feel.

It made me feel like I didn’t matter. Like I wasn’t important. Not only as a potential customer but as a person. You ask a question, you listen to the answer. Simple, I would have thought.

I have a fairly healthy self esteem, so my strongest reaction was to decide there and then that I would not give that business my time or money. But it also made me feel small and insignificant. Which isn’t nice.

We all like to feel we matter. I would even go so far as to say that for some that feeling is the difference between life and death. As long as we matter to someone we feel that life is worth it. That we are worth it.

Seemingly little things like being shunned on the phone by a stranger, being ignored in the tea-break room at work, feeling invisible at school or in the school carpark, can all add up to make us feel that we don’t matter.

We need to take care with each other. That one smile that shows you have seen someone, a simple ‘hello’ when passing a stranger in a corridor, really listening to the answer when you ask a question at a party – all these things are small but have enormous ramifications for those around us.

I guess the Bible verse about treating others as you want to be treated has not grown tired with age. If we try to live with an awareness of others, with an awareness of ourselves and what makes us tick, we will start positively feeding into those around us.

And it might just make more difference than you will ever know.

Marching to the beat of my own drum.

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I read a beautiful blog post today, over on my friend Alison’s blog, about marching to the beat of our own drum.

I wholeheartedly agree – once we find our ‘beat’ and take that first marching step, our world seems to come into sharp focus and we find we have passion, drive and enthusiasm.

Before I read her post, I was having a conversation with my husband about the things we have going on in life, about our dreams for the future and, in particular, my lack of ability at the moment to make much of a foray into any of it.

And then Alison’s post made me think about whether I was marching to the beat of my own drum or was I trying to fall into step with those around me and march to theirs, and I wondered whether that was the problem; the root of my apathy.

Marching to the beat of our own drum goes far beyond just being an individual or standing apart from the crowd. It is about finding what makes the hair on the back of our neck stand up; it’s feeling that anticipation and excitement churn in our stomach; it’s going to bed thinking about our passion and waking up and realising it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

It’s finding our centre, our calling, if you will.

And for most of us, that’s much easier said – or written – than done. Some of us struggle to find just one thing; some of us struggle to find only one thing.

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up and I think that’s because I fall into the second category.

I can’t march to the beat of my own drum because I also need to tap along to the piano, play the triangle and stretch the strings on the violin, while eyeing off the trumpet, cello and the flute.

I want to play the whole orchestra, not just the drum.

There are so many things I want to do, so many causes I would love to contribute to, so many things I want to learn, that I’m not doing any of them.

I wrote in an earlier post that dreams are good and I still adhere to that.

But.

What do you do if you are overwhelmed by your dreams and end up doing nothing towards any of them?

 

Please explain.

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Maybe my radar is just up – it seems everything I read lately is about women in the media, how we are portrayed, belittled and judged. It was the topic of our own Prime Ministers speech in parliament, just this week. And other bloggers are talking left, right and centre about these issues, it seems.

Topics range from weight (both ours and our children’s), the fact that women are ‘destroying the joint’, and misogyny and racism.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s great that there is some media attention on these topics. These are discussions we need to have as a society, as people and as families.

I say we need to have them, but I am actually wondering why these things are even up for discussion at all.

Why do we notice people’s weight, and then, invariably judge them for it?

Why is gender even taken into account as a qualifier of comments or job description?

Why do we notice the colour of skin?

These are not rhetorical questions. I really don’t understand.

To me, judging someone based on skin colour, gender or size is as ridiculous as judging someone because they have a big nose, or a beard, or always wear their hair in a ponytail.

It simply makes no sense to me.

When I was in school, being a kid of skin and bones, my weight was always, and I mean, always, commented on by the other girls at school. Maybe they thought they were being nice when they said “you’re so lucky you’re a skinny bitch”, but you tell me…how do you think that makes a 12 year old girl feel?

And you know what else it does? It makes everyone suddenly very conscious of their weight. Girls think they are complimenting a friend when they say she is skinny, when, in fact, all that is happening is that the notion that size matters is being reinforced, yet again. When that is said to one girl, all the other girls wonder why it wasn’t said to them. Does that mean they are fat? And the girl who received the ‘compliment’ feels more pressure to stay skinny.

I really just don’t know why these things are even worthy of comment. When I really stop and think about ‘why?’, I am no closer to an answer.

Oh, I know the standard reasons of prejudice, fear, insecurity but those don’t cut it for me. It is purely and simply unfathomable to me. Judging someone based on country of origin, or skin colour, is like judging someone because they live in a different house from you, eat dinner at a different time and eat different food. Ridiculous.

Maybe I’m oversimplifying it. Maybe I’m just a bit thick. Maybe I don’t understand the issues thoroughly enough.

So if someone can explain it to me, please, feel free.

Serendipitous happenings

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serendipity |ˌserənˈdipitē|
~ noun: the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

I love life and all it’s funny little ways. And I especially love serendipity.

So, I think you will remember my friend Alison who kindly wrote a guest post while I was under the weather when my uninvited guest Ross River was staying with me.

I met Alison online through a friend, who I also met online. Ah yes, those things we tell our teenagers about meeting people online – not a terribly good example are we?

When our son needed a place to stay in Sydney back in June, guess who put their hand up? Alison. After only ‘knowing’ me online for a couple of months, she happily welcomed our boy into their home and family for three weeks, something for which we will be forever grateful (and that’s not just rhetoric).

So after hearing time and time again from our boy about how well we would all get on with each other, when Alison said they were coming to Brisbane, we promptly invited them for a meal.

And you know what? Our son was right. They were every bit as lovely as he said, maybe even more so. It was truly like old friends getting together rather than strangers who didn’t even know what each other looked like meeting for the first time. We ate, drank, talked over the top of each other, finished each other’s sentences, played games, made fun of each other, Took It Too Far, sweetheart and generally had a ball.

And then, I got a double shot of Alison when we went for coffee today. And boy, am I glad we did. We were able to talk ‘shop’ and discuss all manner of writerly things that only other crazy writers understand (writers online girls, you so should have been there too!).

As I was feeling stagnant and overwhelmed by my quest for a first novel completion, Alison gladly bounced around ideas with me about how to get back on track, if indeed, that was what I wanted. I went there ready to bin, or at the very least, delegate to the metaphorical bottom drawer, my whole manuscript but after talking it over I knew that wasn’t actually what I wanted to happen.

I actually want to write the damn story. Alison and I (I include myself as I physically was there but really, she was coming up with all the great ideas) then nutted out a suitable ‘plan’.

And now I’m excited about my book again.

But more importantly, meeting Alison (and the wonderful family) has cemented the friendship that we kinda already knew was there but weren’t sure. Well, now we’re sure.

I love how God gives us just what we need, at just the right time – serendipity!

And just to complete the ‘silliness’ of meeting online, like the ‘youngsters’ do, we even managed to take a ‘selfie’. (It only took us eight goes to get both of us in the shot and looking halfway decent – pretty impressive, I think.)

Please come back soon, Alison and Co…we miss you already!

 

Special consideration

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You don’t need to look far on any social media site or even just a quick browse on the net to reveal a group or section of society that is calling for special consideration.

Quite frankly, I’m sick of it.

These groups are all asking for the same things – tolerance, acceptance of differences, understanding, compassion.

You want to know why I’m sick of it? Well, I’m glad you asked :)

We shouldn’t need to ask for it. Tolerance, acceptance of differences, understanding and compassion should be how we treat ALL people, not just those in minority groups.

The reason we have the need to specifically ask for special consideration is because we, as a society are not doing it for anyone, let alone a minority group.

The people I know who give special consideration for those sections of society are the same ones who give special consideration to everyone they come into contact with.

It’s not often you meet a generous person and their generosity only extends a small distance. More often than not, generous, giving people will give at any opportunity, with time, money and spirit.

So what we need is a call to arms. Tolerance and acceptance should be our way of life, not just something we ask for some in our community – it should be what we give to all.

Now, you can call me an idealist – trust me, you won’t be the first, or the last – but surely it’s possible.

And you know why I think it’s possible? I have seen enough glimmers of it in the world, to know that we can do it. The key ingredient is Love and the One who is the source of that Love in the first place.

When we truly love, there is no room for bigotry, racism, intolerance, and elitism.

When we truly love, there is really only one possible outcome – special consideration, for all.

Shake it off

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Welcome to 2012 :)

I have decided to shake off 2011. I’m not often pleased to see the back of a year but for so many reasons (some of which I talked about here), I am this time. Look at it, learn from it and then push on into all the glorious possibilities of a fresh-out-of-the-box year, is what I am going to do.

So with that in mind, when I recently saw this sign in a shop, I took it as, well….a sign (sorry, couldn’t resist).

This is what it said:

Life. Find a passion and pursue it. Fall in love. Dream big. Drink wine, eat great food and spend quality time with good friends. Laugh every day. Believe in magic. Tell stories. Reminisce about the good old days but look with optimism to the future. Travel often. Learn more. Be creative. Spend time with people you admire. Seize opportunities when they reveal themselves. Love with all your heart. Never give up. Do what you love. Be true to who you are. Make time to enjoy the simple things in life. Spend time with family. Forgive even when it’s hard. Smile often. Be grateful. Be the change you wish to see in the world. Follow your dreams. Try new things. Work hard. Don’t count the minutes, count the laughs. Embrace change. Trust in yourself. Be thankful. Be nice to everyone. Be happy. Live for today. And above all…make every moment count.

Kinda says it all, doesn’t it? If each one of us took on just one of these for this year, the world would be a better place. Why not pick out one or two and try living with that in mind? You never know what might happen!

Christmas in retrospect

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Despite all the preparations, excitement, and frivolities, I just couldn’t get into Christmas this year. And if you read the last post, you might be surprised by that, given my proclamations of love for the season.

This year, though, I have felt rather melancholy and unable to really enter into the joy of it all. The people who are not here to celebrate it have been heavy on my heart. And the unexpected recent passing of one dear, gentle man has really given me pause.

I tried giving myself the ‘talk’ about making the most of it for the very same reasons I was feeling sad – you never know how long you or your loved ones have. But even my own pep talk didn’t help.

I tried just ignoring my feelings and surrounding myself with lights, Christmas music and busyness. That didn’t work either. As soon as I was unoccupied, the bustling ceased for the day, I would lie awake at night remembering people. Aching with the pain their families are going through and wake up after fitful sleeps more exhausted than before.

I tried reasoning with myself, to get it all in perspective. That didn’t work. It only served to leave me feeling guilty about trying to have a good Christmas when others were in so much heartache.

There was just no way out of it. I was feeling down. It was quite unusual for me….I can normally talk myself around anything. Not this time. And, to be honest, I was a bit flummoxed.

And then realisation struck.

Go with it. Allow yourself to grieve. I needed to allow myself to feel the pain of the families of those no longer here. Let the feelings come, let them consume me. Deal with it. Don’t push it aside.

I have often said there can be no highs in life without the lows. It was time for me to take my own advice and accept the lows. Not accept death, I’m not ready for that yet. I still rail against the ‘death is part of life’ wisdom and stubbornly maintain that it is simply not right, whilst somehow still knowing fully that there can be no other way and that it is, indeed, part of life.

More, I needed to accept how I felt. Acknowledge it, embrace it even, and be present with the pain. Only then could I let it go and feel the benefit of its release.

I’m not sure I’ve done that yet. I have made a start but I think I have a little way to go yet. And that’s okay. I’m learning. Learning to ride the ebb and flow of feelings and roll with the waves.

Even if I did feel a little disconnected, it was still a wonderful Christmas, full of magic, laughter and family, for whom I am so, so thankful.