alliteration

goodnight sunday

Sunday, January 24, 2016




*press play*




As my simple yet sumptuous Sunday succumbs slowly to the sunset, I sit perched and spying sidelong as my son scampers, soaked, across the sands summoning the waves tenaciously.

I sit in stillness saturating my lungs in salty sea air as satin waters break, shattering relentlessly and riotously against the steadfast stones remorselessly. This senselessly stirs my sentimental heart... I note my satisfaction and appreciate having known joy and peace, even in the face of life's sadnesses and strains, feeling a silent sense of subtle strength.

I observe the satiety of this moment, begging it not to be evanescent, and remember to say with sharpened sincerity, "Thank you, God. Thank you, Saviour." #alliteration #goodnightsunday


1000 words

IF I'M BEING HONEST: The Struggle is Real... and Okay and Necessary

Tuesday, November 17, 2015





My car wouldn't start today...

Today is the one-year anniversary of the move my son and I made to a brand new home last year. I'm happy to say that since we got here, my son has grown in confidence, friendships, and his education. My quirky, little social butterfly never fails to make fast friends. And while he has missed our previous home, he has come into his own here in a way I am infinitely grateful for.

It hasn't been so easy for me. I call myself a 'reformed introvert.' My natural instinct is to pull into myself. But I'm a missionary kid and we were constantly thrown out of our comfort zones, if we even truly had any. I hate those Facebook articles, "10 Things You Need to Know About Dating an Introvert." Introversion isn't a handicap and people don't need to cater to you. What is with this generation's obsession with being labeled and coddled? Be a grown up! Be a functioning member of society, for goodness' sake... I know how to be a grown up societal member. And I know how to overcome my instincts that aren't healthy for me. I've learned to override anxiety and be adaptable. I'm no wilderness warrior, but if you dropped me in the middle of any concrete jungle where I knew no one and didn't speak the language, I'd survive. You'd maybe even find me at some corner cafe laughing with a local as we tried to communicate with hand gestures. God has pushed me to live beyond myself and use those introspective instincts I have to be empathetic; to look up instead of inward and see myself and my struggles in someone else's eyes. It's relieving to find the familiar in foreign faces. If you always focus on how different you are, you'll fail to see the common threads between us all. There's a solidarity and a spiritual unity in all God created. Don't be coddled into missing out on that.

Where I live now is hardly a jungle. Despite the huge dichotomy of wealth and poverty that abounds, it's fair to say this is a land of privilege and convenience. I speak the language and I've got my google maps to help me out when I get lost. I've been to harder places. Sunshine and 24 hour drive-thrus? Please, this is cake.... But if I'm being honest, I've had one of the most difficult and most crushingly lonely years of my entire life.

This time last year, I was getting off a plane with a 10-year-old in tow and a bleeding ulcer in my stomach. It was a fight to get here. It has been a fight to stay here. But I felt pretty directed that God was leading us here so we came in faithfulness. There are a lot of ideas promulgated in church communities that are not only false but damaging. Such as, if you're in the will of the Lord, you get all you need. God provides and He reserves his special blessings for those being the best, little Christians. He protects you from hardship and enemy attacks. The flip-side of that is that if you're struggling, you must be doing something wrong. God provides, so if He hasn't, you've messed something up. Now, sometimes struggle is God's correction trying to push you into something else. But where in the Bible does it say we get an easy ride on the right path? Let's ask the disciples. No wait, we can't, they all died terrible deaths after lives of persecution. Pretty sure it says, "...In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33b) So we're actually guaranteed trouble? Cuz that's life? Hmm... Also, no one earns blessings any better than anyone else. God's grace is free but undeserved by all, even the 'best' Christians. But there's still a stigma with struggle. Is it your fault? Were you irresponsible? Did you pray enough? Did you not really hear from God? What did you do wrong? I think life is never guaranteed to be easy, but I also think that often what's right is most difficult. Sometimes when everything is going wrong, you're actually doing something right that you have to battle your way through in order to develop the strength and have the experiences and times with God you need to have. And if you quit when things get hard, you forfeit reaping the best results in life. Someone once told me, if you're in the midst of an uphill battle, God is bringing you to higher ground. If that's true, then moving here was all kinds of right. Cuz it has been nothing but uphill.

I'm a mother so I'm allowed to bend but not break. I'm not allowed to fall apart. I won't put burdens on my son he's not equipped to handle. I won't let him feel insecurity in me. He needs to know I am his safe place and he can count on me. So never before have I felt the lack of a partner more than this year, someone who could shoulder the burdens with me. Never before has there been such a man-shaped hole in our home as I raise the product of two people becoming one on my own. And that's hard for me to admit. I'm an independent 'woman of the 90s,' dang it! (That phrase meant something good when I was a kid. I don't know anymore what women of 2015 stand for or if I'm always on board with it, so, yea, I'm still a woman of the 90s.) Girl power and all that jazz... Cuz there's also a stigma with admitting you'd like a man. C'mon, girl, have some pride! You don't need a man to complete you! No, I don't. But is there anything wrong with craving the intimacy of a godly relationship? The Lord placed a desire within us for unity and marriage is the closest earthly glimpse we get of the commitment and oneness God wants to have with us. Am I pathetic for wanting that, imperfections and all? Do I need to surrender my girl card or can we just stop making everyone feel like they need to be fully complete on their own in order to be deemed strong and successful? Can we stop promoting unrealistic standards of resilience and fulfillment that make us all feel like quiet failures? No one is actually complete on their own; we weren't made to be. We were made to have community. We were made to contribute into others' lives and the collective world. We were made to be there for each other. Struggle is not only okay, it is guaranteed, it is human. It is sometimes necessary for us to reach out, to reach back, and to realise life is better shared. Fuller shared. More complete ...when shared.

This year has brought me to my knees. As that old Jaci Velasquez song says, "I've learned in laughter or in pain, how to survive: I get on my knees." I think I recently prayed more in one week than I have in some past years. Maybe that confession doesn't make me look good, but we're in the spirit of honesty here, people, check the title. Lol... So, struggle brought me to the feet of the Lord. Struggle has brought me to a place of complete submission in utter need. It has broken me down, chipped away at me in a refining way that sometimes just felt like loss. Felt too far, God. Too far... But I do believe it has brought me to where I need to be, including a place where this independent woman is not afraid to admit I'm not always okay or that I need help. (Like tonight when I was stranded pushing a sofa up 14 steps by myself. My neighbour guys jumped in and did it for me. And I gratefully let them, God bless them! Please don't try to push a sofa up a flight of stairs by yourself- you can't do it.) There is strength in that kind of honesty and there should be no stigma or failure in being lonely, being weak, being in need. There should be unity, solidarity, and empathy.

Today my car wouldn't start. My son needed to get to school and we were stuck in our complex's garage. I could've stressed, but something this year has taught me repeatedly is to BE STILL. This smartphone-fueled society grapples with this notion of simply being still; emptying yourself of all the clutter and leaving room for the right things, the quiet things, to fill you. Be still and know that I am God. The Bible says again and again to not be anxious or fearful. I believe it is actually the most repeated command, but seems to be the least followed as though that much repetition in scripture doesn't mean something. I called our building manager but he's out of town at his father's funeral. So his day was worse than mine. Perspective. Then it dawned on me... Oh yea, I purchased a year's worth of roadside assistance almost a year ago. I haven't needed to use it and kind of forgot. My brain has been a little full recently, forgive me. So I called and waited patiently for the man to arrive. (Turns out, sometimes we do need a man, as long as he's armed with a battery charger. Sorry, ladies...) My son hardly minded missing school so we just took a breath and relaxed realising there was nothing more to be done. When the guy arrived he was a friendly and chatty single father and as he charged my battery, we traded single parenthood war stories. Then, in the most innocent way possible, he gave me his number, told me to let him know how my car was doing later and asked me to promise him that I would stay in touch with him and be honest to let him know if I ever needed help. I started to cry and he hugged me and I thought, my car not starting today was necessary. I bought the dang thing a year ago, it shouldn't be having issues. I should've had a struggle-free morning of driving my son to school on time in an easy, 10-minute commute. Instead, my day was interrupted and delayed. I had to problem solve at 7 a.m. and I'm not a morning person. And I didn't have anyone to call to help me. My closest friend here was already at work half an hour away and if I hadn't bought that assistance which has, until today, been completely unnecessary, I would've been alone and stuck. But I realised that in having my car not work today, I ended up being a little less alone than I would've been had everything gone smoothly. It was right that something went wrong. I was in the right place. And being here... This move... We have been in the right place this year.

This uphill battle has brought me to higher ground. I have a new perspective. It's not easy and it probably won't ever truly be- that's life. I won't say that everything has been tied into some inspirational bow and I feel settled and empowered by all this or anything. I won't even say this experience has made me stronger. In fact, I think in some ways, it has made me weaker but that's okay. I have been allowed to be weak, I have been allowed to be sad or disappointed and decide that my peace and my hope are rooted in something bigger than those feelings, something beyond me- my unity with Christ. My prayer for this next year is that I get more invested in a community here and that I continue to learn to take struggles as they come, not being ashamed of them or ashamed of myself for having them.

Struggle is real, it's okay, and sometimes, it's even necessary. If you're struggling, please let me know. Prayers, like everything else, are better shared.




xo

God

Congratulations, Nick

Wednesday, April 08, 2015


Today a dear friend passed away after a valiant battle in the war that is ALS. I was introduced to this man as Dr. Miller, my high school principal. But he became just "Nick" throughout the years as he was a worship leader at my church, the father of a close friend, and generally an edifying person in my life. 

My senior year of high school was a disaster for me. A complication with my long-standing heart condition rendered me bed-ridden for the first 10 weeks of my final semester. My attendance was sporadic the remaining two months of school as I recovered. If it weren't for my amazing teachers and principal, I would not have graduated. No amount of hard work on my part could have accomplished all I needed to do had they not banded together for me. I consider that success a team effort and a testament to my school. As I carefully climbed the platform steps on graduation day (I'd only been able to walk steadily at this point for just over a month), I approached Dr. Miller beaming with pride, excitement, and relief. He clasped my hand and said, "Congratulations! I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it."

About a year and a half after that precious moment, I found out I was pregnant. Though I will never refer to my son as an accident, the circumstances were definitely unplanned and were a shock to many, including myself. Firstly, I was a bright and intelligent young woman and didn't exactly think it was a wise career move to get pregnant in my freshman year of architecture school. Secondly, my doctors had warned me my heart might not survive pregnancy and delivery. But most importantly, I am and always have been a Christ-follower and this situation was a moral lapse for me. I never turned my back on God or anything, but we all deal with different struggles and weaknesses and the relationship I had been in for half my life was mine. No one was more disappointed in my trespasses than me, though some people surely competed.

I had been an active church member and youth mentor. So I wrote home to several friends and teens that were still in my youth group to break the news myself. I asked for understanding and forgiveness and was surprised to receive it from some people I didn't anticipate. I was also surprised when the one person I especially expected grace from declared how "devastated" they were, and how I had shaken their own beliefs by this immense disappointment in someone they so looked up to. Whew... I can see this with better perspective now, but at the time, it was a knife to the heart.

I returned to my home country from studying overseas to have the baby there. I was just in time to attend graduation at my old high school two full years after my own moment of pride. I questioned going but had friends graduating whom I wanted to support. So I approached the gymnasium in the parking lot, adjusting my maternity dress over my uncomfortable 6-month belly and contemplating my swollen ankles and serious case of pregnancy face (yes, that is a real thing!). I didn't feel very confident, but just as I was about to walk in anyway, an old teacher saw me. She greeted me cheerily and seeing my tattle-tale belly, asked when I'd gotten married with a quizzical expression, no doubt related to my young age. I sheepishly said I was not married to which she replied curtly, "Oh," followed pass-remarkably by, "How disappointing, I expected better from you," before she swiftly left me in the dust without another word. I removed the knife from my heart once more and proceeded to the ceremony with my head held high in feigned pride, where I was met with further looks, questions, and whispers.

I finally mustered up the courage to attend my home church soon after. I had grown up in this church and it was filled with 'aunts' and 'uncles' who knew me better than my own blood relations. Ideally, Christians are meant to understand the need for grace and forgiveness better than most, having humbly received it themselves. And I'm proud to say that many in my community showed me unconditional love and support that went above and beyond. But I had had enough rejection and judgement to make me wary of entering that building, unsure of what reaction awaited me. As my belly led the way, I waddled in, alone and preparing myself for faces of shock and confusion. But instead, the first faces I ran smack-dab into that morning were those of Nick and his wife, Alison. They approached me with their arms around each other with huge, effortless smiles. Beaming with joy, they welcomed me into their embrace and proceeded to say the one thing I had yet to hear throughout this entire experience, "Congratulations!" Then they said they were so excited for me, that they were sure my little one would be a real blessing, and that they knew I'd make a good mother, clasping my hands with a squeeze for encouragement. What's more, there wasn't a hint of pity, insincerity, or disappointment on their faces. Wow...

See, I was well aware of the connotations of my situation. I was aware that my future had been altered; that difficulty lay ahead. I was aware that this was unexpected for my character and that my life would forever face consequences. But I was also aware that not all of those consequences would be bad. One major thing, in fact, would be splendid: my son. I was already aware that I loved him and I was acutely aware that the mourning period for a life that never would be needed to be over to accommodate the life that lay ahead, both for him and for me. People expected me to keep reliving my story and my shame. They wanted my repeated explanations, justifications, and apologies every time it was fresh for them. But I had lived every minute of it and was prepared to be proud of myself again. I couldn't linger in the loss and grief. I was prepared to welcome my son knowing that my shame was not his, my mistakes were not his, and he was and always would be my first-born child. He deserved to be celebrated.

What Nick and Alison did was see past the tragedy and the circumstances to the core truth- that this was a blessing. This was a life. This was a celebration. They congratulated me first on the proudest feat of my life: motherhood. And that simple word spoken over me made me feel less alone and gave me the strength to go take my seat that day with pride that was not feigned, but flowed from deep within and would continue to do so.

The last time I saw Nick was a few years later when I was the mother of a beautiful toddler. It was to say goodbye when he and his wife moved from my home country onto another adventure. I hugged him and said I would miss them. And he looked down on me with that towering, paternal height and in his classic, nonchalant way said, "You're going to be fine. You're a smart girl, you've handled yourself well. I know you're going to do great, do you know that?" I think I answered with some joke to relieve the moment because, for me, there was nothing nonchalant about that kind of affirmation. And I couldn't quite express to him how much it meant to me.

Now, here we are in tragic circumstances where loss and grief abounds. And this is indeed a tragedy that I will not undermine as I sit here with tears and sadness as my company. But I will do what he did for me and see past the circumstances to the core truth and say:

Congratulations, Nick! You have run the race and received the prize for a life well-led, and a legacy left behind. You now get to be with the Lord, whom you served well, and live in freedom and health. I celebrate your life and the effect it had on me and mine. Thank you for the love and grace and example. And know that, until we meet again, we will live out our days on earth with a little added strength because you were here. 

...And I bet you're gracing the heavenly hosts with your mad guitar skills. We love you. We miss you. And we will remember you. Thank you.

audrey assad

good to me

Saturday, March 22, 2014



Something hurt me yesterday. I saw something and it stung. I've been trying to heal from something recently and this made me feel as though no time had passed at all; like I was stuck, breathless and trapped in the pain with nowhere to turn. As though maybe I always would be. Audrey Assad's album Fortunate Fall has really been ministering to me this week and in the song Good to Me, this one line says, "When I'm bowed down with sorrow, I will lift up your name." And that has been my 'mantra' the past month: no matter what, just praise, just lift up your head to the Lord and focus on Him. When you're hurt and confused and too much of the wrong thing is flooding in around you, just fill every available space with what you know- in your head- to be right. Pray when it hurts, listen to worship music when you can't deal with silence. It won't necessarily work right away, but it'll keep you moving in the right direction at a time when it's far too easy to slide into the wrong direction. It's like exercise; it will hurt at first, but eventually you'll realise you're fitter. But if you spend that same time not exercising, you'll just get more out of shape and farther from where you want to be. I quoted in my senior yearbook the song, "You're my glory and the lifter of my head." Whenever we sang that in church growing up, I imagined kneeling down with my head bowed in sorrow, as Audrey sings, and God gently bending down towards me, placing His finger under my chin and tenderly tilting it towards Him as though to say, "Here I am, child, look at me." 

It never ceases to amaze me how God comes through. I'm not sure if that's good or not. I mean, He always proves himself, when am I gonna stop being shocked? I think what gets me is when He's there for me in subtle ways, in ways He doesn't need to be. He created me, loves me, provides for me- does He have to care about the little things? No. And yet, He does. His eye is on the sparrow, how much more is it on me? I'm supposed to be His servant, and yet He serves me. 

There's a verse that says, "Draw near to God and He will draw near to you." (James 4:8a) And there was a time when I thought that verse was backwards. Why should I draw near to You first? Sometimes I need You to come to me. But I was convicted by the realisation that that verse should really say, "Draw near to Him and you'll find, He was right beside you the whole time." Because God has made ALL the first moves. Please don't forget that. He made us, He loves us, He provides for us, He sent his son to die for us, and then He even granted us free will so that loving Him back would be our choice. He's already near, you just need to lift your head and see it; see past the mess that you're putting in His way. 

I saw this photo on pinterest recently that said, "Head up, princess, your tiara is falling," and it made me smile. When I was pregnant and feeling shameful walking back into my home church for the first time, with a 6-month belly leading the way in, one of the first worship songs sung that day said, "I'll trade these ashes in for beauty and wear forgiveness like a crown." And I felt God in that moment bend down, tilt my head towards Him and say, "You can't wear a crown with your head bowed in shame." It was such a little moment, fleeting almost in its fragility. And yet, He spoke to me, subtly, in a time when I truly needed something gentle and reassuring to quietly pierce through the chaos, guilt, and anguish. He's my glory and the lifter of my head. He's God and yet He's there for me. Wow... It's crazy how some things come full circle; how God teaches us the same lessons over and over at different points in our lives to reinforce their truth. God has given me a crown. I'm a daughter of the King; a princess. So, head up, princess.

So, as I drove home from work yesterday, I flooded myself with worship music once more just to fill the space with as much of the right thing as I could. And I talked to Him saying, "God, it just hurts. It hurts too much, I can't not see it, I don't know what to do." And I just felt Him say, "Then don't look at it, look at me. Lift your eyes up to the mountains where your help comes from. I'm right here. I love you and what you lost is not as good as what you have in me. You still have me, just keep looking at me." Because when you look down, you see the problem and the mess. It's all in your face and it's all you can see, the negativity, the wrong stuff. It narrows your scope. But God gives us the chance to be lifted out of it, to give the burden to Him to carry so we can just gaze upon His glory. Amazing... So I cried the whole way home focused on the beautiful sunshine framing the clouds on that blessedly Spring-ish day placing the image of His love in front of the painful one. And the Maker of all things ministered to me and reminded me of His love for me all night. You're just too good to me, God. You're my glory. You're the lifter of my head. You are good to me.

Joel 2:25, "I will give you back what is lost/ I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten..."

Psalm 34:18, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."



God

Oh for grace to trust Him more

Sunday, February 16, 2014


in good times and bad,
i will praise You,
when happy or sad,
You're the one who
provides my every need
and reminds me to believe
You're in control, 
and there's no impossible.


God

breaking bad

Thursday, August 22, 2013


Let me start by saying I've never even seen the show this post is named after. I'm not going to, have no idea what it's about, don't want to. Leave me alone cult followers- I waste enough time on silly TV. 

Let me say secondly that it's somewhat of a miracle that I'm even writing this right now. I have had two weeks quite literally from hell. It started with sudden and unprovoked hearing loss in one ear that led to medical treatments to preserve the nerves in my ear. These treatments made me so sick I could hardly function, but the doctor basically said to me as I sat in a pathetic state one day, "Do you want to hear out of this ear or stop the treatments?" So I continued like a miserable sop in zombie-mode for a week. I finished the IV treatments and was supposed to come off the medication gradually through pills but I soon noticed I could hardly see. My eyesight is terrible anyway, but even with glasses, I noticed most things beyond a couple feet away were a total blur. The doctor took me off the medication right away. There were too many side-effects: tachycardia, nausea, dizziness, headaches, weakness, fatigue, and now blurred vision. Two days after being off the medication, I was getting worse. I've hardly been able to stomach most foods the past two weeks but yesterday, I was throwing up, unable to see the face of someone who came to the front door when I was alone in the house, and, for some bizarre reason, my whole body felt beat up. Not achy. Literally beat up, as though I'd actually been punched in the arm, ribs, neck. We called another doctor and my blood pressure's a little low, my heart's a little fast, and all of this is above and beyond a normal reaction to this medication.

I had a terrible night's sleep last night. I had nightmares that my blood was burning only to wake up writhing in pain up and down my arms and through my veins. No position was comfortable and after the past 10 days, I'm completely exhausted. I came downstairs and my mom put her hand on me to pray and I cried in pain. A simple touch on my skin was more than I could handle. I felt like I was falling apart.

I feel like this summer has been extremely difficult. The spring wasn't easy either... In fact, the past two years have been a little rough. And the few years before that, and... now that I think about it, stuff just seems to get a little worse and worse with time. Don't get me wrong, I'm immensely blessed and my problems pale in comparison to others'. But I often live thinking, "It could always be worse," and sometimes, it's just plain fair to say, "Yea, but it could be better." There has always been one thing or another that makes me physically and emotionally tired in life and as I sink to new levels of fatigue and exhaustion that seem to persist, I notice myself accepting these as new normals, until I can't remember what it felt like to feel better. But as I approach 30, I think, "There can't be too many more levels to sink to or I'm gonna miss my life by simply being tired." No lectures on health regimes or exercise or going to doctors, please, I've tried it all. Don't insult me. I go through seasons of trying to find a new solution, followed by a frustrated season of giving myself a break from the disappointments. I don't know what else to do. 

I think what's most disappointing is when I see myself not being... myself. I'm strong. I'm determined. I'm kick-butt, for goodness' sake! And I sat this morning whimpering in pain saying, "God, I just can't. I'm so tired, I don't know how to pray or what to do. Please just help me, I'm a mess." I don't like being a mess. I can handle being tired and sick and disappointed but I don't like feeling out of control. I don't like not being able to rally. But I feel broken down and though I know the enemy has to be getting pleasure out of my breakdown, I just haven't known how to overcome. My rallying resources are simply depleted, which, as a mother, I have a hard time forgiving in myself. But is it okay after 15 years of one consecutive struggle after another to just be a bit messy?

And as I sat thinking how not myself I felt this morning, I imagined that the enemy was happy. Whatever I've always felt destined to accomplish is surely being put off as I stumble through a haze of small struggles that add up. I'm not living in victory and strength. Broken times will happen, but there's got to be a way to break into God's strength and to use the situation for His glory and my benefit, no matter how completely spent I feel... maybe even all the more because of how absolutely spent I feel. 

So, I rounded up some prayer, I read Psalms 91, that claims God is my refuge, then Romans 8, which says the Spirit prays for you when you don't know how. I've been listening to joyfmonline.org and every song and message today has felt like a love song to me from God.


Then they read out this passage: 

2 Corinthians 12:7-10 (The Message)

"Because of the extravagance of those revelations, and so I wouldn't get a big head, I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan's angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty! At first I didn't think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me,

My grace is enough; it's all you need.
My strength comes into its own in your weakness.

Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ's strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size- abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become."

And I sat and thought, I hardly have the strength to pray anything, but if all I can say is one thing, it's that your grace is enough. Breakdowns along the way will happen in life but you can either break bad(ly) - sorry, can't make the grammatical error even for the sake of a pun - or break well. You can break into God, be weak in His strength and be GLAD for the gift. I can still hardly see across the room, I still feel weak and drained, my head is a little spinny right now, and a shower is going to be an accomplishment today. I'm a little broken, maybe a lot so, and this blog and these realisations are not the conclusion to this struggle. But I plan to let Christ take over, so the weaker I get, the stronger I become and to always be able to have enough strength to proclaim His grace is enough. That's all.

1000 words

factoring in the flaws and being faithful in the face of failure (i like alliteration)

Monday, December 31, 2012



We're still a little under the weather from this virus that has been kicking everyone in the vicinity's butt. But even if we weren't, I would still be spending this new year's eve night with the love of my life: 

My little bunny.


Not sure this year was everything it should've been but it has been a lesson in human flaws. God made us imperfect. He made us to need and it would be a lonely world if we tried to stand on our own so maybe it's good that we just can't. A few conversations I've had recently have come around to this: Yes, God expects obedience of us and yes, he expects us to do our best. But when we don't, when we have moments of being the humans He made us and we fall short, do we destroy His plan for us? Do we get a secondary plan, the runner-up plan? Is His perfect plan only for those who obey Him perfectly? Because that sounds perfectly impossible... not to mention cruel, which God is not. So, maybe, since God transcends time and knows when we're going to screw up before we do, perhaps... just perhaps, He not only uses our mistakes; maybe He factors them into the plan. I can't imagine God having had a more perfect plan for me than to have my son, but it took sin to get there. He knew I would fall and He didn't want me to lose out on what He had for me because of my lapse in judgement. So He used it to bless me and show me how much He loves me. And, as He always does, He made things better when they seemed worse. An old Stacie Orrico song says, "Will my weakness for an hour make me suffer for a lifetime?" And as a friend asked me that same question recently, I've decided the answer is a definite 'no'. Not that we should take advantage of that and just go around making mistakes willy-nilly. (Where does 'willy-nilly' even come from, btw??) But, when we're trying and we have a lapse, maybe, beyond the more obvious concept of redemption, we're still in the perfect plan. Maybe God's just waiting for us to give it to Him so He can help pick us up and use that lesson for something necessary. Maybe what we view as deviation is needed to actually be on track. I think His grace is bigger than we could ever imagine. And I also think we like to kick ourselves a lot more than He would want us to. In His infinite wisdom, I believe He weaves in our flaws and, yes, our mistakes and utter failures, to this complex tapestry He makes of our lives. So, this year wasn't perfect. I don't have some inspirational discourse on how amazing this past year was and how I can see how it all fell into place miraculously. But I do have faith that this imperfect year can be made perfect in God's strength and that nothing is ever wasted when you give it to the Lord. I believe I'm in my PERFECT plan and I'm looking forward to seeing where 2013 will take this little family as I attempt to be faithful... in my abundantly flawed way.

Bonne Année, tout le monde! I love you, and God does, too.

Mwah! (There's your midnight kiss in case you didn't get one;)


chester see

LEADER OF THE PACK // Why this Good Girl likes Bad Boys

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

0qjkuk-odke_large

Based on a few discussions I've had with girl friends, I've been analysing recently what there is to the bad boy allure. Now, there's the obvious stupidities, but I should've long outgrown those. Not only am I no longer a teenager but as a teenager, I dated the tortured soul I was trying to save and I've more than learned from my mistakes. I will always be someone who sees potential, looks for the good and then tries to promote those qualities in that person. I think that makes me a good person and, often, a good friend. But if my past relationships have taught me anything it's that when someone has potential- it's just that! Potential. Meaning: They aren't there yet and they still have the potential to not actualise their gifts. It doesn't mean you were wrong about them it just means they had a choice and, sometimes, they make the disappointing choices and that's beyond your control. Walk away. Post haste.

So, I've had my fill of fixer uppers and am ready to just be with someone who comes ready-made, already! Boys need not apply. Men only. Thank you. But then why am I insanely attracted to Mark Wahlberg for all the seemingly wrong reasons? And why, when I met a nice, squeeky-clean, Christian sweetheart of a guy a couple years back did I call my sister and discuss why we can't seem to be attracted to guys who don't have an edge? Why do we complain about guys being jerks, then find a guy who's actually made it to adulthood intact and not reward him for that strength with anything more than friendship? Basically, because girls have been conditioned by fictional love stories that work out in the end to equate drama with the beginning stage of epic love and, therefore, feel without it, there is a lack of some necessary spark. Sadly, we don't seem to move on once that 'stage' becomes an actual state. But guys out there, don't rag on those romantic movies and stories too much because, in all fairness, you've done your fair share of sucking, too. And if we weren't stupid enough to give you second, third, and 100th chances in the hopes of getting that love story, there'd hardly be any couples in this world and the global population would suffer drastically. So, yes, my gender has its stupid moments (and the opposite gender has its jerky moments, too) but I resent that being the explanation for my issue after all I've been through. Surely, I'm too smart for this! Then what is it? 

I thought about it and realised I might actually have some healthy reasons for this attraction inclination: 

1.) For one, as much as I'm a "good girl"- I've never done drugs, never smoked, never been drunk, and have generally lead a lifestyle pursuing Christ- I'm hardly perfect. I've made Mistakes (and yes, that is a capital M) and have needed a lot of forgiveness in my life. I'm a redeemed soul by God's grace for the lack of judgement I've had in my past... and, er, present. It's an ongoing process and always will be. And while we all 'sin and fall short of the glory of God,' I feel like those who haven't made a good ol' monumental mistake don't grasp forgiveness the way I need my partner to. I know that I used to not understand how one could sink to certain levels because I hadn't and, pridefully, believed I couldn't.  Some people are just stronger and better people than others, right? But I have since done things that are so out of character and shameful that I need someone who knows, first hand, that you can do things that aren't you and still be you. I am not my screw ups, I'm the person you see in between them and when you've been there- truly been there and looked in the mirror and thought, "What the heck just happened?!"- you learn to see others for who they are 'in between' as well and appreciate the strength it takes to get yourself back to being your true self after each fall. You realise it's only because of God's victory that you are ever truly victorious anyway and there's empathy, understanding, and forgiveness. The 'bad boy' understands grace and can remind you who you truly are and I need that. 

2.) Secondly, as I just said, there's a strength in rebounding from mistakes. I'm not saying there isn't a strength in avoiding mistakes either, because there definitely is and kudos to those of you who are, humanly-speaking, monumental-mistake-free in general. Well done. Truly. I'm also not saying I want someone with a ton of un-dealt with baggage, because that's not it either. In fact, what I'm saying is, I wanna know that you have 'dealt with' baggage. I want to know that life has thrown you some curve balls, you've been humbled by making mistakes but you have picked yourself up and decided to be stronger. You've decided to take life lessons and learn from them and they've taught you to deal with conflict and failure and be better for it. The 'bad boy' is strong, not damaged, and can be strong for you, too.

3.) Someone who has been through the fallout of life's negative experiences has had to make one of the most difficult spiritual decisions one can make: whether or not to truly.....T-ah-RULY submit everything to God. I've known plenty of Christians who proclaim that Jesus overcomes and heals and redeems, yet they hold onto their hurt and let it affect them indefinitely. I guess I want to be with someone who has downright messed up because sooner or later, we all do. And I need to know that when you do, whenever that day comes, that you'll be capable of forgiving yourself and allowing God's redemptive power to truly permeate your spirit and life. I need to know that you're not the kind of person who kicks yourself forever or drags your family into the dysfunction you've allowed to set up camp in your soul. To lead my family, you need to know how to go to God and give up the things that will get in the way of you, and us, living a life of freedom. The 'bad boy' has learned to fully accept redemption and is therefore capable of being the leader of our pack. (That was SUPER cheesy, but I had to do it. You know I had to...)

So I guess it's not fair to say I'm straight up attracted to actual bad boys, which is why I've put that term in quotes above. I just want someone who has enough life experience to forgive and be forgiven, to leave mistakes behind, and to be stronger for it. I don't want someone who messes me about and makes me feel insecure, like real bad boys do- I actually want someone who gives me security. I guess the 'squeeky-clean' guys don't generally appeal to me because I, maybe mistakenly, feel there's slight judgement or naivety to be found there. And maybe, admittedly, that's not fair and most likely not always true. But what is true and fair is that those guys just wouldn't be compatible with me and I'm probably not what they're looking for either! So maybe I'm not totally dysfunctional for my attraction to Marky-Mark cuz I know he could throw a punch! From what I know of him, he's come a long way in his life. And that's the most attractive 'manly' quality of all. Maybe I just admire the strength involved in overcoming a less than perfect past and want to know that my man- my grown up, non-boy of a man- will appreciate that in me, too.


This video is hilarious. Subscribe to all these guys cuz they're super funny and entertaining!


Bonne Année

Hold on to what's being held out

Saturday, December 31, 2011

This isn’t going to be easy to write and I’m sure it won’t get read by most but I need to say it. I haven’t blogged in a while. I took a trip away from myself- a very stupid and risky thing to do. I didn’t mean to; it wasn’t planned. I just got tired one day and, for the slightest second, stopped trying. This is when I slipped and fell down the rabbit hole to a place that was so far from home, I didn’t know how to get back or how I’d arrived there. I felt disconnected from myself and God. I felt weighed down in a way, in my weakened state, I didn’t know how to emerge from. And this cycle continued until I was so weak and so far from where I wanted to be that it seemed there was no way out. I became disillusioned by my life and disappointed with God. I went through a big transition this year, one I didn’t want to go through; one I thought, until the last minute, God would deliver me from. But He let it happen and I would love to tell you that I handled it with trust and faithfulness. That I said, “Your will be done, God,” and gracefully submitted myself to His plan. But I didn’t. Instead, I was hurt and, already feeling far from Him, I continued to spiral.

I became someone I didn’t think I could be at such a rapid rate, I was really more bemused than anything else. It was like I was watching my life not living it and I couldn’t seem to stop anything. I’d cry and tell God I was sorry but that I didn’t have the strength to pick myself up. Despite knowing this couldn’t be true because it’s not who He is, I felt like He didn’t want to help me… that He was disgusted with me the way I was disgusted with myself. So we co-existed for a while in silence and I started to resent that He wasn’t rescuing me but I didn’t give Him the chance. I couldn’t listen to worship music because the emotion it evokes was too much to handle. I prayed for safety for my family and my child, for blessings for others but nothing for myself. I felt like no words could suffice and despite being mad at Him, what I really felt was undeserving. I haven’t blogged because I haven’t even had coherent thoughts to express myself. I felt time wasting away and when I looked in the mirror all I saw was exhaustion staring back.


Then one day, I started reading through this blog and the posts I wrote last year when I was in a much better place spiritually and emotionally and thought, What happened? Where did this go wrong and why am I choosing to stay in this darkness when I could be in the light again? I took a shower and sat on the floor crying and praying, “This year is almost over and I’ve wasted so much of it being confused, hurt and distant. God, please… no more. Take me back, I want You more than I want anything else. Restore me and redeem what’s been lost.”

The enemy will try to convince you that you’re alone, that there’s no way out, that it’s too late, you’ve gone too far, that God’s too far, that your shame and guilt is too great. Lies. Such destructive, hurtful lies. When I took a second to stop being mad at God, I realised He’d been with me the whole time waiting on me, protecting me from myself and forgiving me before I’d forgiven myself just waiting for me to allow Him to give me back the things I thought I’d lost. As I was plundering down this path casting valuable parts of myself aside, He was picking them up and keeping them for me for when I wanted them back. I thought those parts were lost, but He restores. My God restores.

If I’ve learned one thing- and I’ve learned more than just one thing- it’s that none of us has any right to be prideful in our strength because it’s only by grace we ever have it anyway. I am so much weaker when I stop drawing from Him than I ever thought I could be. And He knew that all along and loved me anyway. Loved me before, knowing how I’d fail; loved me through, even as I pushed Him away; and loved me after, as though nothing had changed. And now, as Sanctus Real says, "Here in your arms, I know what I am: I’m forgiven. And I don’t have to carry the weight of who I’ve been cuz I’m forgiven."

If you’re feeling lost from yourself, take heart. You’re not alone and redemption is not as hopeless as it seems. Take that first step towards forgiveness and you’ll find you can still be all you were… and more. Hold on to what's being held out: The healing hand of God.

God

100th Post

Tuesday, December 27, 2011


If the only prayer you ever say in your whole life is "Thank You," that would suffice.
~Meister Eckhart

Thank you, Lord...for everything.

1000 words

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Saturday, December 24, 2011




We hope you are having a truly wonderful Christmas season and that the new year holds many blessings for you and your family. Lots of love from me and my little elf...xx

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. ~John 1:14


Judy Garland sang it best. Embedding disabled so click here 

ALSO! Track Santa's Christmas Eve journey here

Bonne Année

beauty in the countdown

Friday, December 31, 2010



This has been a great year.

I'm not even sure what to say about it.

I feel like I was completely broken down and rebuilt. It's been a year of contrast. I've had some of the worst moments and cried the most painful tears. But in the midst of it all, I developed so much appreciation for the brilliant subtleties in my life. I feel like my eyes were opened and I was kept in moments to experience them more fully, which was both agonizing and beautiful. God's strength was made perfect in my abundant weakness and I look back at 2010 and feel nothing but grateful for every detail of it. I have no distinct expectations for 2011 other than I know God will move because I think I've given Him the room. The picture I'd formulated in my heart of what I wanted and expected out of life has slowly disintegrated as I've learned to submit that which I cannot possibly orchestrate myself over to the Source of all creativity. I trust His plans are better than any I could design and I'm looking forward to stepping out in faith to what awaits in the new year. No clear cut expectations, just anticipation... and trust.


I have been so blessed this and every year.

Bonne Année!

(AND I think I pretty much kept my resolutions. New ones up tomorrow...) ♬Auld Lang Syne♬