Hero (five-minute Friday)

My dad was my hero, until that day when he said no.  He said "No, you can't live with me, you should live with your mother".  That was the end.  The beginning of the end of our relationship.

I see it a little different now.  I realise that his heart was broken too.  None of it was how it was supposed to be.

My brothers, I used to look up to them too.  Until that day when they left me out.  They rewrote our childhood as if I wasn't there.  Invisible + scapegoat = runaway.

So here I am, on the other side of the planet.  With one super-hero saviour in my life, and I know this is the right choice.  HE is the only hero I need.  HE is the overcomer.  HE is the redeemer.  HE is THE ONE.

{Soul Rest} - I'm falling, catch me Jesus.

I couldn't pinpoint it...why I was falling.
I tried to distract myself with grand ideas.
That used to work, when I believed they could come true.
And that's when I realised what was wrong.
I'd prayed all last year for one thing.
And then, wonderfully, He made it happen.
But I thought, that's it.  There won't be anymore yeses after such a big one.
There won't be more for me.
Because...why?

I don't deserve it?
But that's always true.
He is a gracious God.
He is a generous God.
He loves to give good gifts to His children.  Isn't that what the scripture says?
So will 2014 be bereft of anything good?
Unlikely, but still I struggled to believe.
And I was exhausted.

He carried me through the weekend.
And then today, suddenly, there is Hope.
After grief and despair.
I want to follow His footsteps.
I want to see them clearly.
I worry that I'll hesitate and then they will disappear from sight.

But Jesus didn't let Peter drown.
When he walked on the water.

"Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him" (Matthew 14.31)

I want to hold your hand, Jesus.
I want to be reassured that you are there.
I want to look on your face and know I am loved.
I want to have faith.

Five minute Friday - encouragement

Encouragement is what I so desperately need and what has always been missing.  As I've given it to my children, they have turned around and given it back to me.  We will ask Jesus and we will keep trying.  We fail.  But even in the last few days, he's started turning it around, the child that struggles with control, his progress is encouraging me.  We're not a lost cause; kindness can appear like a rainbow in the sky when we didn't expect it.  I've always had the urge to encourage others, I can feel the crumbs of their hope, and long with them that they could grow into more.  But right now, I don't know what to do with my own crumbs, they don't make sense to me anymore - old dreams, current reality, the habit of disappointment combine to make my life muddy.  A mustard seed.  That's all I need.  That's what he said.  So I rest on that.

Going back - an ode to hospitality

Princess Morag had the privilege of returning to the old realm to visit over Christmas and New Year.  She was able to rekindle friendships in person that have been kept alive in the intervening time through the power of phones and internet.  She was so happy to know that her joy at going home was shared by those who she most longed to see.




Her kitchen held the past and the present.  The kettle boiling, like always, but now it was a little girl watching us as we waited while the boys, who had grown, ran around, and wrestled.  There was a welcome, and as we chatted there was a silent hum of the things that didn't need said, but could be felt, between us.  We had shared defining moments of our lives, we have been witnesses to each other.

Crossing the threshold after knocking and not waiting very long.  I knew I was safe to just enter.  I was welcome here.  My past life was staring at me from every direction.  Baby boy clothing on their son I hadn't yet met that took me back six years in an instant.  Jigsaw puzzles, toys and even the couch my pregnant self had slept on and had been the centre of my living room.

A new home: bigger, better, I knew how long she'd waited and was glad for her.  Easily slipping into conversation, we returned to our usual straight-talking style.  Truth-tellers who like to laugh, that's us.  We are survivors and strivers.

A glass of water in my hand, the same cheeky smile and red hair staring at me, so watchful and alert but taller and missing teeth.  A small space, but familiar and warmed by the affection that was always reserved for me there.  I was sorry there was so little time.

Friends, hospitality, belonging, as if no time had passed when really it had been more than two years.  I was glad to be there.  I was beloved.