so to speak

Something Stinks

2010-10-22T09:53:00.007+11:00

What is it about families? We can have the biggest, most heart wrenching issues in our lives, yet we refuse to acknowledge it little loan discuss or address it. Instead, we walk around it, ignore and talk about everything but it.

In fact 'it' sits there like a big fat elephant in the middle of the room and instead of pulling together to get this big stinking mess out of our lives, we will pretend it's not there, walk around it or even hang pictures on it to assimilate it into the decor.

The weather becomes a fascinating subject. We will clean house within an inch of it's wooden life, become suddenly fascinated with study or throw ourselves into emotionally safe areas of our life but DON'T dare discuss what is creating cracks under our feet crumbling the foundation of what is most precious to us.

Heck!! That elephant isn't going to go away until we acknowledge it to begin with and then work together as a family and lead that stinking thing out of our lives and the clean up the crap that it left behind.

The Boy Who Changed The World

2010-09-08T19:40:00.006+10:00

by Andy Andrews

A parcel is being jockied down our long dirt driveway by my mob of children emotionally peaked by anticipation. It's a children's book and right there I knew, our day won't move on until we shared it together.

At the first page, they are drawn in by the beautiful colors and images. The story will have to wait until they are finished absorbing what they see. There is so much to read even before we start with the words.

And when the words start, they aren't disappointed either. Andy Andrews takes us on a journey of four generation of boys, stacking their lives like blocks, he allows us to wonder at the strength and significance of the wall that is built from their lives meshing together, to see the legacy fed by the fruit of good choices. As Susan Carver says in the story .. "little things make a big difference".

Following this construction of lives through the story and the butterflies through the pictures, these little things we do illustrate the 'butterfly effect' our lives have. Just like the butterfly's wing makes such a small movement of air, we can offer our small fishes and loaves confidently that our lives will and can make a big difference.

Road Block Bye Bye

2010-02-06T10:42:00.002+11:00

Hey. Does anyone remember me?

I'm the one who posted 'sick egg' back in September and then proceeded to throw a chronicle of reposts; until all the good ones run out.

Well. I have news.

The world has stopped moving!! I’ve just been on a really bad patch of bendy road and now, I get to turn off. My head now no longer spins. This is reason for extra lashings of excitement yet at the same time it feels surreal with a captial S.

For those who don’t know, I have been to three doctors over the last six months; one was like a dad who would call me in the morning to see if my sick kids were all right, one was lovely and wanted to look past my big family which everyone keeps blaming and the third; well he's young but definitely thorough. Loved them all. I was checked for a plethora of diseases from aids to ross river to cancer and everything in between. I have good news. Those tests all came back negative. Hate to think what it cost our medicare system. Although I have more news. I was still not functioning.

But three things then happened that I believe were God and I found myself in the office of a biochemist. He went straight to my blood. Only the tiniest amount. And when he looked at it, he told me my story. He rattled off my symptoms. And when he told me the cause, I looked at him blank. Unbelieving even.

Actually there were three things that needed addressing although in treating the first, the others would go. Although the cure, argh! I would have preferred to dip seven times in a muddy river. But I am in a place where I want my health more than I want my fleshy desires so I was good to follow his instructions; to the letter. And three days later I was cleaning out my larder; voluntarily.

You wont believe what shackled me! Things like this don't happen in prospering countries; do they? I am a health freak; well almost. I am active. We eat fresh, organic, whole foods. Heck, we even grind our own wheat and milk our own cow. And now! I guess we wont have to. Cause wheat and milk are now banned substances. Not sure of the why yet but I am feeling amazing, almost healthy so the why is really just a technicality.

Reversible. That's what he told me. I wont have to find a ‘new normal’ in my life and can expect to find vitality again. And I'm also stoked that after who knows how long, someone found out the 'why' of my 'fuzzyness'. I'm not crazy after all. {sandra does happy dance} Was getting sick of being sick, of not being able to live past my own existence, of not being able to enjoy others.

And you know what sweetens the whole discovery? My problem is not because I chose to embrace children. If someone told me I was unwell because of my choice to have a big family one more time, I was ready to smack 'em. My Father told me that children are a blessing and I believe Him.

And I now get to resume life but with a massively refined perspective courtesy of the One who carried me over for the last however long.

I have just one more opinion. I like driving on this road a whole lot better.

The Wheels On Our Bus Go ......

2010-01-20T08:47:00.004+11:00

... out and about cause their 'too cool to be hot' and the car has airconditioning ...

... they go left and right around the stack of potholes in our road and yet Brielle, head banging our shoulders, sleeps on ...

... and the wheels go back and forward when we leave a few who shouldn' t have been left....

.... but lately they go up and down getting two flat tyres in a month.

Mostly though, they do go round and round ...

... and round and round ...

We have definitely done some miles in that big blue lunchbox of a car this month I tell you.

Welcome To My Fishbowl

2010-01-02T10:47:00.008+11:00

By Jodie McEwen

When people discover that Mark and Sandra De Hoogh have ten children, their reactions are varied. “Wow! You look so young!” “Are you Catholic?” “Don’t you have a TV?” or the most common “Have you worked out what’s causing it yet?”

With the characteristic sense of humour required to raise a large family, Sandra’s serene response is “Yeah, we have and I’m surprised you’ve given it up!”

Mark and Sandra have been married for 21 years, and have ten gorgeous children together. Eldest daughter Ashley is almost 19, Rowena 17, Jordan 15, Caleb 13, Naomi 11, Isaac 9, Gabrielle 7, Timothy 5, Brayden 3 and baby Kyler is 18 mths. The family live on a property outside of Dungog, and the kids are home-schooled. If that sounds incredibly saint-like and overwhelming, Sandra is quick to dispel any myths of super-mothering powers.

“I don’t want people to put me on a pedestal because I’ll just fall straight off it. But it is possible to have a bigger family than society says is ‘normal’. Breeding is easy. It’s the life you live after you have a family where the challenges are.”

Sandra says the biggest challenge of having such a large family is the realness and transparency. “There’s no-where to hide or pretend in a big family. I can’t be a hypocrite, or the wheels just fall off, and ‘if Mum ain’t happy, nobody’s happy’. A big part of it is being not too proud to admit that you don’t know what the heck you are doing sometimes.”
But the hardest thing is also the best reward. The family have a terrific ready-made community when someone needs a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to or play with. “In a smaller family, if someone is busy, you might not be able to find the right time to be able to talk to somebody, but in a big family, there’s always someone available.”

Having ten children is something most people baulk at, but Mark and Sandra have been intentional about growing a large family. “We never found a good reason to stop. It’s not that we just love kids, although we do, but we love people. We just want to do life with our kids.”

And the De Hooghs hang out a lot. After some negative school experiences, the family decided that home-schooling was a better fit for them. Accidentally, they discovered that they enjoy learning together, and although the door has always been open for the kids to attend school, so far they have all chosen to be educated at home.

There are no school lunches to prepare in the morning, but feeding a family of twelve requires some planning. “We don’t use a microwave, because by the time you’ve heated the fifth dish, the first four are cold.” Two trolleys are required for the monthly ALDI run, and the family cruise the outlets for bulk foodstuffs, buying for up to six months at a time. Because they live on a property, Mark is able to raise beef cattle for the table, making meat considerably cheaper, and also has a dairy cow for milk. Buying in bulk at the Sandgate fruit and vegetable markets saves money too. Still, the monthly food bill is between $1000 and $1500.

Cooking could be a chore, but the De Hoogh family has an ‘everyone has something to contribute’ policy. “Rowena cooks 3 meals a week. All the big boys are ‘in training’ for one night a week and Naomi does one night too, so I’m almost out of the kitchen!” reveals Sandra gleefully. And she admits, she does enjoy cooking alone that one night.

But what is the cost of having such a large family? Though it doesn’t come cheap, Mark and Sandra have made it a priority and found ways to make it manageable. “We’ve learned to live more simply, without the things people feel are culturally necessary. We found a lot more substance in the things that were free, in doing things together and functioning as a family.”
With a family of a dozen people, there is a lot to do to make everything run smoothly. “I don’t have the energy or desire to be the big boss, standing over everyone to lay down the law. We had to start running our family based on relationships, instead of rules and regulations. Everybody is a valuable contributor. We praise them for whatever they do offer, and that praise inspires them to want to do more.”

“We had to outline the minimum things around the house that had to be done everyday, food, clothes, transport, and ‘stuffonomics’. We wrote it out and said ‘What do you want to contribute?’ I was blown away when Ashley said she’d do all the washing. She’s happy and feels no guilt. She does it because she wants to not because she has to. It’s so freeing, so liberating. I believe that’s the best thing I’ve learned as a mum. But it’s really hard to do it this way, and I’m only just getting it.”

“This season is one of living with anticipation of what people were going to offer, instead of expectation. It was a big bridge to cross and we are still walking it out!” You get the feeling that the journey is mostly a positive one. The children are well-mannered and considerate of others, their love for each other evident in the way they relate. The family exudes a sense of togetherness, their home a haven for all who enter.

Little Kyler toddles about with his gorgeous toothy grin, a picture of cherubic babyhood. With a precious family of twelve, are they planning to add to the joy and make a baker’s dozen?

Sandra smiles with a twinkle in her eye. “We never say never.”

Both P'd in the Same Week

2009-12-21T09:23:00.005+11:00

Bo with her red P Plates and Ash with her Green P's

For international's who have no idea what I'm taking about:

Here in Oz, new drivers have the honor {or debasement... however you want to look at it} of sticking a gigantic red or green P to their car. This lets other drivers to undoubtedly know:

that they are a new ... or newish .... drivers
that they are young, cool, hip and good looking or
to give them plenty of space on the road even if it means using the footpath to be safter.

Fly free my babies but avoid the ouchies, k?!

Reason I Breath

2009-12-17T11:37:00.003+11:00

Just seems so appropriate to repost my very 1st post which was a piece written 10 years ago, for my 101st post after a 1 year of blogging with almost 100 followers. That's a lot of 1's don't you think? Really bizarre.

A cool breeze pushed through the open kitchen window and I felt it's freshness on my face. Breathing deeply, I drew in the scent of the emerging evening and freshly cut grass, this enticing me to soak up the scene across the valley. Full and low, the sun was now setting red, lighting up the hill across the river. Cows were now rising to graze in the shade, lethargic from a searing summer’s day, their calves dancing energetically to the crickets’ song.

Inside, dinner smells still lingered through the kitchen and clung to my sticky baby who was perched on my lap. He was studying a small piece of paper, clumsily exchanging it from hand to hand and making contented noises. Nestling him in closer to me, my lips and cheek smoothed his downy head. All my senses stood on end; life was wonderful. I felt that small space inside me, which can sometimes feel so empty, burst with a warm fuzziness impossible to verbalize, words not even fringing on description. Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep savoring breath, only then to embrace an amazing sense of Gods presence. Such a feeling of wholeness, such a profound change in my view of life and only after a few minutes soaking up the essence of The One who loves me most.

This brief moment was shatter simultaneously by the sound of wet children running inside from an evening swim, a baby's frustrated squeals to achieve motor skills not attainable by one so young and a concerned alert to a crushed pancake that had annihilated behind the curtain, and Oh! Yes! A new smell had definitely clouded out the grass, the breeze and carefully prepared meal. The contents of a filled nappy jolted me back to the day to day events which busy my life, but now with a softer, gentler, more loving spirit.

Still, did He give me this moment to draw me closer, to fuel desire to seek “His face” or is it maybe possible that He just wanted to be with me be it only a few minutes of my hurried day. Both are likely, though possibly this was the only time all day I took to notice Him. How often I do that; struggle through my whole day alone yet God is right there waiting for me. Just like Peter who, sank when he took His eyes of Jesus while walking on the water, we sink if we don’t look to Him for our impetus in every thought, action and motive.

As the creator of imagination, He won’t always use cows, breezes and babies to catch our attention. Looking at Him and to Him always, He won’t become small or insignificant and comprehension will explode in our hearts of who He actually is; our creator, our all consuming fulfillment and our very purpose of life. We are to Him the object of His enveloping affection. He made us for Himself and when this fact takes root, we will hungrily seek Him and find ourselves in that sweet place of His presence way more than just a few stolen moments.

Seek my face [inquire for and require my presence as your vital need]. My heart says to You, Your face (Your presence), Lord, will I seek, inquire for, and require [of necessity and on the authority of Your Word]. - Ps 27:8 amp

Our Bit of Geography ...

2009-12-12T06:00:00.001+11:00

...my space in the world

Mad At Christ-Mas

2009-12-08T11:08:00.006+11:00

A woman was Christmas shopping with her two children.

After many hours of walking down row after row of toys and after hours of hearing both her children asking for everything they saw on those many shelves, she finally made it to the store elevator with her two children in hand.

She was feeling what so many of us feel during the holiday season time of the year, getting that perfect gift for every single person on our shopping list, overwhelming pressure to go to every party, every housewarming, taste all the holiday food and treats, making sure we don't forget anyone on our card list, and the pressure of making sure we respond to everyone who sent us a card.

Finally the elevator doors opened revealing a crowd in the car.
She pushed her way in and dragged her two kids and all her bags of stuff in with her .

As the doors closed she couldn't take it anymore and blurted out, "Whoever started this whole Christmas thing should be found, strung up, and shot."

From the back of the car, a quiet calm voice responded,

"Don't worry, we've already crucified Him."

author unknown

Who Needs a Fake Tree or Plastic Angel ....

2009-12-05T07:35:00.011+11:00

When you have a fifteen year old bright spark ...

... and a one year old angel!

Christmas to do list:

~ Tree ..... check

~ Lights .... check

~ Angel on tree .... next to is close enough

~ Christmas cheer ..... check and file in heart

{not head as it's prone to loose stuff}

Umbilical Cord

2009-12-02T19:17:00.005+11:00

~wordless~

Multiple Choice Future

2009-11-29T13:29:00.000+11:00

“No way! The bridge is shaking!” The plausibility for such a massive icon as Sydney Harbour Bridge to move was feeding my children’s already overstimulated dispositions. They stood motionless feeling the bounce of the bridge through their bodies, staring at each other in disbelief. In their excitement, they traversed the length of the bridge three or four times compared to me having meandered half way. They were running up and down the footpath like backstitch on a garment. I was amazed. What was it that was so exciting? Adventure? Discovery? Or was it just the new playground that the North Shore provided?

What did it matter? Their exploration allowed me to be a spectator, to retreat from an especially difficult season and to soak in life with, and also beyond, my family. I lagged behind and admired the group of walkers that was three generations of my family. My children living life fully, soaking up each other and enjoying being enjoyed. My parents reliving youthful adventures through the stamina of their grandkids. My husband with his commanding stride; gosh, I’d forgotten he was so .. err.. potent. Family are like air aren’t they? Something we cannot live without although almost never applauded.

I chuckled at the timing of these thoughts of my relatives. My great grandmother would have sailed into this very harbour, maybe even right under my feet, some seventy years back. How daunting would that have been? Bringing two small girls alone across an ocean to be reunited with her man. With age and hopefully growing wisdom now on my side, I can appreciate the emotional guts that journey would have taken. Fleeing war, leaving all their family and immigrating into a language they didn’t even understand.

It led me to wonder of how many stories have travelled through this port. My nana sailing from England. My father in-law emigrating from Holland. What did they feel, expect, and hope for? And before them; De Quiros, a Portuguese explorer who called our land “La Australia del Espiritu Santo” or “Southland of the Holy Spirit”. These stories aren’t random but have reached into the future and affected even my destiny. What young girl, separated from her family, looked at squaller on these same shores I see now? She would have come off the planks of a convict ship fresh from England, the country who declared herself mother over “New Holland” over two century’s ago? Would she have believed that her home land would be sailing a ship bearing her Queens name that just squeezes under this colossal coat hanger at low tide?

I appeared to be staring from the bridge right through the Opera House. Mark snuggled in from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder bringing me back from my mental wander. My babies were almost at the end of the bridge now. He must have walked back all this way just to escort me to our tribe. I felt loved but even more so when he offered me a dandelion he’d found growing in the cracks of the walkway. Some would see merely a weed but it was far more to me.

Here was my soul mate, my sojourner, keeping me close to his heart. We were crossing our own bridges, finding our own adventures and discovering substance in life together. Sometimes we find hard times like those in the generations before us. But like this flower which grew through adversity into an amazing, fragrant piece of beauty, we grow in the manure life dumps on us and come out as a sweet aroma, as God’s artwork, as living proof that no matter what life throws at us, we can still choose how we respond. And these choices, good or bad, will outlive us reaching into my children’s childrens generations.

Heir Raising

2009-11-26T07:25:00.001+11:00

~ wordless ~

Unwrap Him

2009-11-22T16:53:00.006+11:00

Seemed appropriate since we are navigating head on into Christmas again ....

The truck window was open wide to bring relief from the sauna our vehicle had become and the scent of the country filled the cabin. Christmas was going to be dry and hot. Recollections of snowmen and snug fires that fill the media over this season caused me to chuckle at the enormity of this paradox. Driving in eastern Australia, it wasn’t frost that filled my senses but the aroma of eucalyptus leaves dissipating in the heat. A chorus of cicadas screamed above the music which pumped through the speakers. Winding forward along the crumbling road, my face numbed and my hair stung my neck as it whipped and flung around me uncontrollably from the wind. This wind on my face was almost an overload of stimulation.

But not as much stimulation as was manifesting at our place. There was only thirteen more sleeps and the mountain of gifts below our nativity scene would be reduced to a pile of confetti. Our calendar for our family of one dozen, was filling out beyond the realms of achievability and was more overstuffed than an overdue mother. Each day enlarged my childrens expectancy for the ‘main event’, Christmas Day, but also increasing was my resolve to keep their hearts loaded with eternal perspective. But for now, I didn’t need to fatigue my mind with the choreography of this year’s celebratory climax. This long drive meant I could bring my mind back from the planning of the next few weeks and live in the moment.

This living in the now let all my attention return to focus on the scenery which was rushing past. I had seen this route many times before but every time it seemed to offer a different perspective. This intrigue caused my eyes to not casually, but almost desperately soak in all this lands stories. The history of life in every old farm house; the wonder and depth made by the shadows as the sun slid behind the mountains; the seamless knitting of the undulating slopes meeting the winding river which we repeatedly crossed. Bursting with an overwhelmingly satisfaction, I was thankful that God had put me in such a breathtaking place, that He had given me the eyes to see His land for the exquisiteness, the life it held.

Breathing deeply, I soaked in this life; His life. It appeared to me that God gave my present early. Such a generous gift wrapped in such a huge package, too big to join the growing mound in our living room yet I was totally absorbed in it and totally full of awe for its creator. His gift? He let me enjoy Him. To feel the substance of Him. To soak in His pleasure of me. To see His reflection of His heart in all that He made and continually lives and breathes through. His reason? Intimacy. His very purpose for creating us.

So resolute to woo us, He even purposed an insurance package of grace a fistful of Christmases ago. A gift that didn’t need wrapping, that won’t break, be outgrown or clutter the house, and one that doesn’t require the social seasonal protocol of parties, cards, feasts, holidays or bling. So pure and simplistic yet so full of substance that our lives depend on us discovering and embracing His gift’s essence. Astounding. He did everything so all we need to do is unwrap Him?

"{in your} Face Book"

2009-11-17T11:03:00.003+11:00

~ wordless ~

pen and paper status updates from my man,

stuck to my computer with sticky tape;

works for me

My {out}Back Yard

2009-11-13T09:31:00.003+11:00

Away now ... this one seemed relevant to run again ...

We were someplace smack between Alice Springs and the Devils Marbles travelling a stretch of desert which could have been confused for the moon. There were no buildings, mountains or vegetation here. Just dirt, heat and the horizon. This meant no trees. Here, trees are your friends as they become convenient camouflage in the need of relief. Retired “Grey Haired Nomads” had told us to avoid public bathrooms as unbelievably, they were often inhabited by locals.

Knowing this, I noisily approached a crudely converted concrete tank my concern for confrontation far outweighing my greater need. I knew I would need to pee now or never. Well at least now, or to never again live down the disgrace that would come from a watery accident. I realised as I turned in that she was definitely not expecting to see me. Her eyes met mine then hit the floor fast. I was clueless what to do next. Awkwardness heightened the longer I stood in indecision, as for me to continue, I would need to physically step over her.

Politely, I dropped my gaze only to notice the last thing I ever expected to see. At her feet, the most beautiful, dark baby lay on a tattered blanket. A mess of wiry black curls and dust was all that covered his plump body which could be but days old. All my female hormones gooed over the sight of him and any fear of my harm or trespass dissolved spying this new life.

Everything in me wanted to scoop him up, to snuggle into his neck, to soak up the smell that only newborns own, to share in details of his birth and wallow in her pleasure of a new son. In an attempt to communicate these feelings, I found that the English language was not something we shared but obviously my maternal gushing gave her cause to relax a little more, so she offered a tentative smile.

Our short but intense encounter was interrupted by a rather protective and clumsy entrance of a tall aboriginal male. I assumed he was the babes father; the young girls man. He assessed the situation nervously but stood waiting for my next move. My next move! What was I to do? I had just unfolded my body out of our dust embalmed Troupe Carrier which had cocooned me with my family for most of the morning. Nature was definitely calling.

Still, do I intrude on what was now their home? There was no furniture but from the amount of cooking debris, kitchenware, and rough bedding, it suggested home. I playfully wondered how their mail was addressed? And even if I felt comfortable walking into their outback bathroom, would my prissy self be able to bring myself to use whatever I found lurking behind that fence paling door? My husband pealed out an encouraging honk from the truck which sank all my indecision. I chose the ugly toilet moment over the horrible generational story.

Slotted back in my space in the people shaker and mover feeling physically relieved, I digested what had just happened. I became emotionally overloaded. Comprehension for how they existed was not coming. Appreciation for their culture was minimal due to my lack of knowledge. Understanding of how I could have sincerely offered help would have been better utilised a good twenty kilometres back.

I berated myself. Should I have given them my own son’s clothes? Or maybe a bit of cash slipped into her hand? My heart was aching for what I perceived as incomprehensively hard. Or was it? A still small voice was revealing an inconsistency in what I believed to what was reality. Who was it that carried more burden? I discerned their lack a prison. But who was travelling trying to buy freedom? Funny, I was seeking freedom from the things she didn’t own; the juggling of stuff and self imposed responsibility.

Revelation was painfully and slowly focusing. 10,000 kilometres were travelled all up for God to use a young aboriginal girl, still reeking in puberty, to start exposing how freedom starts inside of me. How liberty lives in my thoughts birthed from core beliefs. The source of freedom wasn’t in dumping my daily routines, or having financial dexterity. It’s in believing Gods grass roots truths … I am accepted, I am secure, I am significant, I believe the truth therefore I am free.

Throw Your Head Back And Laugh

2009-11-10T07:19:00.002+11:00

~ wordless ~

Beyond the Brickwall

2009-11-06T06:49:00.006+11:00

Still walking through a bit of a 'foggy' season ... a little like this re-run ...!

"Can you come and help me get these sheep in please.”

The voice broke through my semi conscious state although I wasn’t quite sure if it was part of my dream or reality. I forced my eyes open real wide and tried my hardest to determine the origin of the request.

“They’re eating your flowers out the front.”

The consequences of sheep in my newly planted blooms was enough leverage to care less if I was dreaming or not and my feet hit the floor and traveled to the bathroom much quicker than usual. I tiptoed past my sleeping baby trying not to wake him so I wouldn’t have him on my hips, like a sack of potatoes, scurrying after these lambs and donned my knee high back gum boots not even contemplating the fashion statement I was making as they accessorized with my Winnie The Pooh singlet nightie.

“They're around the front” was the next instruction which guided me as I shuffled down the back steps and honed in on the flower munching critters.

They nervously glanced my way and promptly ran in the opposite direction, lamb tails bobbing above the dust they stirred up on the driveway. I didn’t halt my journey toward the sheep enclosure until I knew that the last escapee was again unable to eat any forbidden fruit. This was rather an abrupt start to my day, but lately, not an unusual one.

Only a few weeks ago, we approached our four-month-old beef steer while the children were riding our dairy calf to see if he would accept a little pampering. As usual, he refused, very reluctantly got to his feet and limped toward the river. His tender hoof had been concealed until now his lack of movement considered lethargy from the searing heat. Hopefully his leg was asleep from lying on it but I know it was more.

That evening we locked him up with our usual routine so we could absconder his morning milk from his mom and tried to assess him a little closer. Although I was now armed with the knowledge that his feet were pussy and smelt real bad, this information meant nothing to me having only owned cattle for a little over a year and not being knowledgeable on the symptoms for cow ailments. Our neighbor deciphered his symptoms with a label of “foot rot.” Visions of vet bills and dead cows flashed in front of me.

The pain the little fellow was obviously in, planted a seed of worry in my mind and a well known wrinkle reformed across my forehead. The manner and technique of the young vet catching the ailing beast was a little unsettling although, without doubt, he knew more about this than us. So he was left to dig and scrape the rotting flesh away from between the frogs of his hoof, blood oozing over the earthen shed floor. This left Mark to restrain a kicking and bucking animal.

Our baby cow did survive this episode as did Mark, and we came away from the crisis now wiser in cow disease, and the administering by injection of various drugs through the concrete hide of bovine. This was just in time to be able to treat our milking cow that was showing signs of the same fate.

Each day brought similar hurdles which seemed to be chipping away at my cope-ability and sanity. Living in my own strength, I was frazzled and I entertained the idea of climbing into bed, pulling the sheets over my head and pretending none of it was happening. But I had six little people, and one big one, relying on me to be positive, cheerful and to meet their needs; I had to move forward and make decisions, not decisions happening by default, and most importantly, I wanted to live a life enjoying and knowing the depth of Christ. So I chose to trust; to live in God’s strength.

My circumstances didn't change but when focusing on how awesome God is and staying constantly in His company gave life balance; the full truth. The greater concern is not just ridding myself of these problems, because they will come. I resolved to not let my attitude sink to a poisonous level, to guard my mouth and heart from soaking all in a barrage of poisonous words and to respond from a place which knows and remembers Hiz goodness by giving perspective to what is true, noble, pure, right, lovely, admirable, excellent or praise worthy.

Yup, I forget constantly, I loose sight of Him but He graciously taps me on the shoulder and reminds me we are forever friends and He is big enough to carry us through. His grace allows me to live through the valleys and live in an increasing quality of life with Him now, not living my life at the bottom of a brick wall.

written 26 Sept 2000

Sister Act Icky

2009-11-03T20:57:00.002+11:00

~ wordless wednesday ~

Mentoring Mimi

2009-10-31T05:47:00.001+11:00

Written almost a decade ago but still reflecting my heart today ......

I glanced across the room and my eye caught a tiny apprentice person perched on a chair, round with baby fat and full of charm. Most children have an inbred inability to evaluate how to use a chair in the purpose it was designed for and she was no exception. She was kneeling up slumped over the back, swivelling the chair from side to side. Her whole body was dripping wet from swimming in the pool, her blonde hair clung to her round face and podgy cheeks. She was beaming showing a mouthful of baby teeth, her eyes danced as they met with mine realising that she had my full audience. My heart jumped and then melted as she worked me with her giggle. With no words spoken and with no inhibitions she ministered to my heart far greater than any counselor could ever do and in less time and cost.

I refocused my mind to search for any familiarity with this child, to search for who she was and what made her unique. I wondered if I could possibly find any claim to have a bond with this beautiful spirit or maybe to even find evidence of having had some influence in molding who she was. She was so cute, innocent and edible. She was so strong, individual and knowing. She was my daughter! But there was so much about her that I didn’t know, things that were distant and unfamiliar.

“Wook at me Mummy” she ordered. Mummy! How rewarding that felt I wondered if I had really fulfilled this title. Had I done her justice for the position I held? Have I served any of my children like God had designed mums to nurture their young?

Oh sure. I have washed their clothes, fed them, kissed their boo boo’s, played, hugged, and taught them all the stuff they need to know to survive as far as short people are concerned, loved them to bits and encouraged a pretty shiny character to package the whole parcel. But that is so trivial. What about their very soul, their eternal destiny. Am I to be an accomplice to their eternal damnation? So what if it is through being blinded by the world or naive or through lack of Godly action. Even if responsibility was taken from me for these pitiful excuses, could I live with the fact that my children could potentially live apart from me and their creator?

They could possibly be ahead in math and accomplished musicians and read all kinds of literature way beyond their peers but that means squat to their eternal destination. They may be brushed, scrubbed and dressed to look like they stepped out of an add for Target apparel with polished manners and character to match. But this too could be just surface and just like rearing a bunch of trained seals having no reflection on their heart; their true soul. They could even give lip service of dozens of Bible stories and memorise chapters of His word but unless it touches and changes their heart, it’s useless. A lot of attention is given to maintaining their bodies but it’s their hearts that are the real life.

Oh, Father, show us how to touch our children’s hearts so they can see you. See you and fall in love. Enough to crave you constantly, to search for you and want to know you personally and intimately with urgency. This is true parenting; to love our babies earning their trust and hearts and give them back to God.

Friday, 26 January 2001

What Difference Do It Make?

2009-10-29T14:02:00.002+11:00

What difference do it make? What difference is made when at our lowest of lows, instead of finding judgement, we find an offered opportunity. Instead of finding criticism, we find someone who values our life. Instead of finding our behaviour to be presumably self destructive, we find a person who believes we will make the better choice. Instead of finding ourselves alone, we find someone who is wanting to be our companion, not for their own ego, but because they genuinely find us a valuable person.

What difference do it make? Denver Moore profoundly declares that it makes no difference. Not if money is just thrown at a problem just identified as financial suffering. Plenty when people who understand that God created life for relationship are in your neighbourhood. Because then things change, people bloom and lives are forever altered.

God can only change a life if people are willing to first believes He exists before they can accept His help. Those who can’t, can be still convinced by those who do by recognising that all life was created by God and is very, very good. Some choices may be a little ill informed and lead to bad circumstances or life may be extremely hard but we are all an amazing creation. This is where some need a brother to lean on for a season.

Like Denver says, “Of course, she didn’t know that there’s a difference between helping and blessin’ – that blessin’ means you give a person a little gift to show ‘em you think they matters on this earth, and helping is when you stoop down with a person and stay there till they can climb on your shoulders to get up”.

A book where profound truths shared through a selfless heart in the simplest of ways. And I am reminded that “To the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to ME. Mat 25”

I am challenged. How can we, who have felt His amazing grace, His heart hungering to be embraced by ours, not be a cup not only full but overflowing to those around us?

Fly Be Free - zing!

2009-10-27T16:49:00.002+11:00

~ wordless wednesday ~

Beyond Herself

2009-10-23T08:41:00.003+11:00

A year and a half later we have a healthy little man .... a repost but a reason to exhale, sit back and be in wonder.

The throb of the blades rhythmically cut through the air. As the rotor gained momentum, the noise swelled making communication nearly impossible. This lack only isolated her further and she felt like a bystander in a scene from a movie. The big yellow Westpac helicopter now gained height, and the hospital grounds melted away along with all that was familiar. Her safe surroundings, her town, looked different from the air at night ablaze with lights in neat corridors. Events were surreal, control was beyond her and nothing seemed comfortable or safe. Her contribution to this emergency medical retrieval seemed negligible as she was at the end of herself to sustain the life of her twelve week old boy. She wondered how this would end and if she would have the energy to see this through?

So much had been given and endured already for his life to be; sickness, planning, longing, money, time, dreams, hopes. So much selfless sacrifice passionately offered. But all that wasn’t enough to guarantee his survival. Neither was any amount of status, bribery or good works. His life was totally beyond all guarantees as is ours. Yet immense resource was lavished and every attempt made to sustain the life of Kyler Jack.

Attempts to allow him to live and enjoy the depth of his mother’s adoration, to let him suckle and nuzzle and feel totally safe. As his consciousness grew, his world would include his siblings, learning to jostle and find place in his family where he adapts to sharing his parents affection. Learn to give in love yet still love when not given. Discover the substance in relationships and the depth in forgiveness as wounds are dealt. Find sweetness in an emerging longing for shared enjoyment of another person. Let him discover the treasures and truths in life that really give it genuine substance. And to climax in full circle as longing and hope would be sown and unconditional love allows new life to birth through his own children.

Would his life be fully lived as he now struggled to breath on his own? Monitors taped to his body delivered numbers which gave the young doctor no reason for concern as oxygen tubes kept levels at an acceptable saturation. She smiled in understanding as the medic offered her a thumbs up to put her mind at ease, to reveal stability in her baby’s condition, sign language the only communication possible over the din of the chopper. Grateful, she wondered how these front line medics dealt with such a critical responsibility, of being the hope of so many for their children. Why this young man would even want to labour through situations that possibly produce the absolute worse of any circumstance; lost life. Does he labour because the possibility of being able to interrupt the demise of health is worth the risk of his own distress?

Why do we all have such a solid conviction to pour so much of ourselves into each other? Sure some would act from motives that are self serving, others lives being used to meet their own perceived needs but most intuitively recognise a truth far more profound. What even causes us to have babies when there is so much of ourselves to deny, so much of ourselves required. Our children’s lives are open cisterns for us to pour in everything we are. Yet; we give knowing that their lives are their own and we give unconditionally, with no strings attached, freely allowing them to choose their response to us. To choose the degree of which they love and enjoy in return. What a risk! What a gamble! Or is it?

Hovering over Randwick Children’s Hospital, it was impossible to not be in awe of the colossal red sun rising and declaring that a new day had begun. A quick descent, an envelopment of buildings around the craft and a converging of medical staff stole her oasis of quiet and deep sense of perspective. She struggled with the pace to stay close to the medical entourage through the corridors and tunnels of the Intensive Care Unit, then watched as a CPAP machine took the strain from his breathing. In the blur, she stepped back and saw a bigger picture as bed after bed was filled with children whose outcomes were uncertain and whose parents fed on hope and prayer to sustain them for the tough road they would need to walk.

It was now definite that regardless of the outcome, she would fight through her fatigue, emotions and fears, digging into the very depth of who she was, as a child herself yet an over comer, to give every opportunity of life. However this finished, it would be done with grace and gratitude. Life for her was long enough lived to know that life and relationships was God’s opus. There held the greatest depth and satisfaction. The delight to be enjoyed and to enjoy. Deep freedom was found in not placing expectations but in loving with expectancy, in not demanding responsibility but anticipating response from intimacy offered. To stand solidly and humbly offering everything she was even through her weakness and embrace response the way others choose to give. This was offered to her nine other children and no less would be offered to her baby.

Resolved to love through the pain, she journeyed the medical protocols with tenacity. But finally, the day came where monitors were turned off. Beds were stripped and personal effects placed around the unit for emotional support collected. Good byes were said to nurses who were more than staff but people who were now written in her life’s story. Her journey home wasn’t as dramatic. There was no urgency, no rush. But there was a profound air of fullness as she didn’t travel alone. Her son was also able to return to their corner in the world and discover for himself the richness found in life and unconditional love.

Two Faces of One

2009-10-20T08:10:00.001+11:00

~ wordless wednesday ~

For Janine

2009-10-14T21:41:00.004+11:00

To a friend who makes me smile more than sniffle ...

Undoubtedly you will travel this road again with tenacity and strength, with eyes firmly fixed on the big picture. But today, along with a plethora of others, I walk with you in my thoughts which are shared with Him.

Not because your life has fed my eternal perspective

... even though it has;

not because your example now encourages me through uncertainties

... even though it has;

not because if you can't have what you love, you love what you have

... even though you do;

not even because you make me want to be a better person,

... even though that happens;

but because the where of going isn't half as important as the who you travel with

... and you are a really valuable who; someone with whom I'd like to walk.

Fired Up

2009-10-14T10:46:00.002+11:00

~ wordless wednesday ~

Still Need To Go?

2009-10-06T07:00:00.007+11:00

~ wordless wednesday ~

found this on a bush toilet block

Mask I Be Real?

2009-10-05T21:12:00.011+11:00

I wear a mask.

It’s if for my emotional protection. Makes me feel better; safer. If I can hide bits of myself or even present my persona as someone completely different, then those who judge aren’t really judging ME. When there’s fault finding to be had, it’s aimed at the ‘made up’ me, the one I’ve created to be more likeable, more together and definitely less vulnerable; fragile. This way, I can dodge the condescension, the wounding I take right to my core. Savvy move right?

And I am quite good at it too, residing in my fabricated bubble. No wondering why though; been working on this front for close on forty years now. Some escape personal attack with busy-ness, some with achievement, others with alcohol. Me; I like my mask cause it blends in best with all the other lukewarm people who like Christ.

Yeah sure. I know this is self medicating and rooted in doubt that God loves me amazingly and does all things for my good. In my head obviously because if I believed that in my heart, there would be trust, and faith and profoundly different outcomes in my life.

But I’m pretty happy with ‘average’ anyway. Why would I want to aim for ‘more than enough’ when I’m trying to conform to this world?! With an abundant life, I would just stick out like a sore thumb and be way open to attack then. Nope. Blend I say. Normal. Same. So what if we are all made different; we can improvise.

And to make things even more predictable and in (my) control, I like to design and accessorise a mask for God too. Then I know what to expect and can go with the three step plan to Christianity. Tucks my life away in nice little boxes. Neat, safe …yeah maybe a bit plastic and fake.

But there’s no way my nerves could handle letting God off His leash. How on earth would I manage explaining blind faith and relationship with a God who breaths stars and makes leminin glue which keeps our dirt made bodies together. And where’s the fun of hanging around a smarty pants who has a clear perspective on how many universes there are and for heavens sake. Who really cares how many hairs I have on my head? But then there’s the relationship He would want. How messy is that? Who believes He really loves us anyway. I have been spending all my energy trying to change this mess of my life into someone my dog will like little loan procuring the love of the God of the Universe.

Nope. Better spending my life keeping my front. Besides, if I didn’t have a mask to primp, where would I place all my energy? Into enjoying Him? In my mind, I’ve created Him into a weak, box dwelling wimp anyway and what’s so enjoyable about that?

(please note that my tongue is firmly planted in my satirical cheek... mostly)

Tramp On Your Face

2009-09-29T14:20:00.005+10:00

~ wordless wednesday ~

train mugger er brother

2009-09-23T07:14:00.000+10:00

~ wordless wednesday ~

note the fifth person back left

Good Thing Drive

2009-09-19T08:46:00.007+10:00

We live no where near what I would consider to be civilization. It's an amazing bit of country that God plucked right out of Eden; clear running riving feeding lush pasture land cradled between two gnarly, basically straight up mountains.

My secret valley really.

A place which generally gives security from negative influence and attack. My Pa says we are insulated not isolated. I believe Him.

Yet this means when we go out, we are in the bus for over an hour, traveling goat track roads wide enough for one car in places, with ten children.

Good thing they travel well.

Good thing they don't mind if they sit too close to each other, or if one is touching the other or if heaven forbid, one is looking at the other in the wrong way ....!

Good thing they don't mind if one sings, or hums a little too loud or too long, or if ones comments aren't too ignorant or even if one determines to release a little air from ones body from a various amount of openings .... !

Good thing they are accepting of each others differences, that they are forgiving for selfishness and can offer His Grace and maintain not only appreciation for each other but have a hopeless, sold out love that outweighs all offences.

Good thing that.

Cause if they didn't, they could be travelling on a really long journey together, maybe one almost as long as marriage, and find that the trip is really unbearable because they didn't actively acknowledge that their sojourners are valuable; that they are really precious and given a few minutes looking in the right direction, they would see that their motives aren't specifically chosen to annoy. Nor is their intent particularly negative.

And really they know that what they look for in a person is exactly what you are going to find. So it's obvious that they would want to look for all the choice nuggets because that would not only be such an encouragement to them but would also set the 'mood' thermostat in the car. It would influence the others around them to notice and feel satisfaction and substance instead of irritation and fault finding.

This makes two and half hour round trip so much more bearable. Cause really. In our hearts, we realize that what we have to offer others is what they have to offer us.

GRACE.

So my advice on long country drives with two fist full of kids;

... drive to survive physically, but travel to thrive relationally.

Sick Egg

2009-09-17T16:37:00.012+10:00

Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

All the Kings horses and all the Kings men,

Said,

"Get it into your egg shell head that you aren't everything to everyone and if you don't let others expand into nurturing you as well, this is what happens. You crash and burn. And if no one is there for you to fall on, you will just get dragged along with life's forward motion.

Then we are talking pretty nasty gravel rash as well.

Let's face it. That shell of yours is only thick enough to hold a growing chick, not strong enough to carry it til it's egg laying size itself. Let 'em brood over you BEFORE you go down.

Cause a fall means you WILL crack and then what you're birthing will die and all the gook will come out and make a big mess. And no guessin' who's gonna have to clean that up."

I don't do sick well.

Pappa God! Please put Humpty back together again.

I don't feel so good?!

Bowl-er Hat

2009-09-16T07:15:00.001+10:00

~ wordless wednesday ~

My Bus for a Boy Car

2009-09-11T14:58:00.012+10:00

When we decided to have a "more than you bargain for" size family, my husband and I had to calculate the cost. For me, I believed I would be sacrificing the freedom to have coffee with the girls and of any acceptance to 'normalness', of ever being your average family. Hey! I was young!

For my man, his measuring stick was not anyway the same as mine. Apparently, different didn't concern him nor did the perceived lack of freedom or belonging. What he did lay on the altar of self though was any possibility to own his Porsche. Didn't know many sports cars suitable for offspring unless a trailer became an option.

And I know. When you consider what we gave up for our children's lives, our sacrifices do look fairly piddly. But they were still real .... ARE still real although shrinking as eternal perspective becomes clearer.

Fast forward twenty years, ten children and a lifestyle that neither of us could have predicted. Our choices haven't become overwhelmingly popular even though many desire our outcomes.

But richness IS our constant companion. Why? Cause we're wise; clever even? Bah Ha!

Seek first .... stuff, bling, notoriety, friends, cash. Yup. I'm guilty. But apparently I have also done a little 'Him' seeking too because ...... 'all these things' have come unto us in proportion. Not in the package I initially imagined; different but way better.

The indescribable climax of a season had the legs of a Mazda MX5. A surprise for just a weekend for my man but in it's outworking, my God spared nothing.

Entertain the image of driving through the Grand National Park with mist rising, past weirs, around tree encompassed bends, roof open and breeze enticing, music enhancing this journey like the accompaniment to a movie staring my man, routing over the Sea Cliff Bridge and climaxing along a plethora of coastal villages.

An indescribably delicious few days. But the experience was only the vehicle of reaping juicy fruit from seeds sown a thousand choices ago.

Let me tell you. It was very nice packaging but the substance wasn't in the nuts and bolts that we rode in [as well put together as they were].

It was in the emotional distance we had travelled before, together, but also individually. Each time we responded to His nudging, a t- intersection was encountered. All choices toward human suffering, be it a skinned knee or trafficking, was a cross road. Every offence we forgave fueled our vehicle. The smallest decision to rightness, in love not in legalism, pointed us into a more direct route to our desired destination.

Most of this journey was completed metaphorically in a 12 seater Transit Bus way before our weekend. But the final leg, the cherry on the cake, we got to travel in style.

And here's some irony. In the picture above, the sign says I am at Bus Stop Flats ...

... whats in that?

The-Ta Mom Gives

2009-09-10T13:47:00.006+10:00

Ta Theta Mom.

It's like the logies over at her place at the moment.

Oodles of affirmation. And in typical award style, I am to now pass on my compliments to five other blogs I have "NEWLY DISCOVERED".

My dilemma ...... limiting my approval. Since it's a girly looking award, I'll make this a chick thing.

So to:

The Things We Carried

Transparent Momma

Path from the Head to the Heart

Lisa Buffaloe

Once Apon A Miracle

Newly found but here's to the 'long run'.

But indulge me for one more as my friend has just started a blog ...... hot off the press is

My Thoughts

Go and encourage her to write up a rockin' storm.

(apparently bloggy protocol calls you to pass your affirmation forward to five others newly discovered blogs ... given you accept {winking at loophole} ... )

Not For Ford Lovers

2009-09-09T04:12:00.001+10:00

~ Wordless Wednesday~

ps. I drive a ford transit if it's any consolation

Fearless: Imagine Your Life Without Fear

2009-09-08T02:44:00.001+10:00

by Max Lacado

How often have we limited our Christian life to people with smiling faces and all things good? Yet when our life doesn’t exude that image, we are perplexed, we try to shuffle people into neatness and order, become sullen or outraged that life isn’t what they felt God promised when we signed up. But even worse, we become afraid that God doesn’t care enough to make our life ‘happy’, ‘neat’, ‘christian’. This is one of many of the lies Max Lacado annihilates in his new book “Fearless”.

Working his way through a plethora of fears, he dissects the why of our ‘unbelief’ and leads us to an amazing Father’s perspective. ‘Fear is not essentially wrong in itself; it’s our medicating of it that can cause problems’. Problems solving is a good thing but plans made without God in the equation is going to melt down to a God-less life; living hell.

Doing it afraid takes on a new light. Trusting and leaning on my creator appears the only option I would want to choose. Reading his work left me smelling of freedom and hoping for life to stretch out into this liberty. Pointing out that God, throughout history has worked through what we perceive to be disasters like illegitimate birth and crucifixion, he leads us to know that God can no way be ‘boxed’ but is huge and in control and way worthy of our trust.

He quotes another author of centuries ago; “These little troubles are getting us ready for an eternal glory that will make all our troubles seem like nothing. 2 Cor 4:17 Max ponders with us on our changes and seasons: Could this life be the womb of the eternal? The events shaping growth for what we will need beyond what we know now? That kind of growth would be nothing to fear?!

In Max’s words at the point where he faced and conquered one corner of fear: Stay Strong; Trust Christ.

Outside The Box

2009-09-06T15:14:00.008+10:00

Again with the cows. I will have to change the name of this blog if I keep this up.

"Cow and Again" maybe.

Though there is a little gem of a truth that God exposed that is worth declaring. He could have chosen to share His amazingness through a donkey but Balam can keep that shocker conversation. Happy to be a visual learner though. Somewhat tactile too although I wasn't real keen on tactiling the mess out of the park which she left behind. Nothing manageable about those do-do's.

My point? Here's the dialogue with my maker and favorite complaint department.

"There's a cow in my garden!"

"And that's a problem? Why?"

"Because cows don't belong there."

"They don't? Why?"

"Because they live in the paddock away from the house."

"They do? Why?"

"Because it's the way it's always been, the way I like it, the way it's done."

"It is? Why?"

Silence. I had no comeback.

But I did have a profound sense to expect new seasons of life outside the box.

Who said things HAVE TO be a certain way. If we know He is in it, if we know His truth is not been compromised, embrace it and wallow in it's freshness. Let's face it. He's always seemed to use shock tactics to get our attention. Look at an unwed mum called Mary or a prophet who cooked on something far rawer that cow poo.

[definitely leaving this picture at Slurping Life's ~ Straight Out Of The Camera]

Notes from the Tilt-A-Whirl

2009-09-02T09:04:00.007+10:00

by N.D.Wilson

“Just to be clear, I live on a near perfect sphere hurtling through pace at around 67,000 miles per hour. Mach 86 to pilots. …. Once a month or so, my wife will find me lying in the lawn, burrowing white knuckles into the grass, trying not to fly away.”

This excerpt from Mr Nelson’s welcome in “Notes from the tilt-a-whirl” is so appropriate as it reveals the essence and flavour of his book. Absolutely full of meaty chunks from start to finish, it is full of information about this life we live and share with a plethora of created life.

Ah, but was it created? That question is asked repeatedly and a bounty of responses are laid out from a smorgus-board of thinkers throughout time for our perusal. The validity of each is left for us to decide but Mr Nelson is profoundly sold out to knowing where he came from, from what he is made, and where he will be finishing his ride and chapter of his life.

What will happen to the dust he was made from is the only question he can not answer. In fact this and other quirky questions arise continually, creative thoughts that hadn’t even crossed my mind, providing a refreshing new perspective over the stale views that pervade our culture.

Having read Notes from the tilt-a-whirl, I will however suggest a few ‘riding’ rules.

* Read a whole chapter in one sitting as the thoughts he presents meander through a plethora of analogous metaphors and stories but does tie up neatly at the chapters end.

* Read when you are mentally alert. He definitely shuns the shallow, his thoughts going to depths inhabited only by the naked mole rats he addresses.

* Don’t read if you are a black and white thinker. You just wont get it.

As one who loves substantial quotes, I started to copy his profound thoughts out but found, I would merely be making another copy of the book. So full of content, although as one not prone to read a book twice, to get the most out of this book I think I am going to have to make an exception.

I will be brave and hang on for a second ride of this ‘tilt-a-whirl’ book.

~ Ko - ala Bear it? ~

2009-09-02T07:42:00.002+10:00

~ Wordless Wednesday ~

Note: bearing the smell is more of a challenge; eucalyptus oil with a feral twist

Beefy Baby

2009-08-30T17:26:00.015+10:00

Really. I just thought our cow was loosing it. I had spotted her walking backward. The first time I thought my eyes were fibbing. Bizarre thing to see. Like some kind of bovine moonwalk. All kinds of crazy behaviour is to be expected from an expecting heifer.

But birthing now? No. Inconvenient.

The "holder of the knowledge of all things cow" was having a kid and dad day four wheel driving. And last time I helped a cow birth {like childbirth but not}, I almost lost my wedding ring trying to get two calf legs forward in the business end of things!

Ok. Think I just lost most of my readers but probably safer that way cause I have illustrations too.... although I have to admit. The last picture is so very cute.

And I will draw breath for just a minute to reiterate that I am NOT a country girl either. 'At heart' maybe but I was city born and bred. Know a lot more about running after trains than after sheep in need of a haircut; about feeding kookaburras on the back fence than chooks wanting their tucker; know more about picking food off a shelf at coles than from a tree or from the vege patch or ..... {gulps} .... heaven forbid ..... {whispering now} from the rump of a baby cow. {lip quivers}

Don't think I will ever get used to eating our own meat. Why is eating beef that you have met so much sadder?

But I have diverged.

All I could do was take her from the paddock to the garden so she didn't loose her baby in the river and pray that the backward motion would create enough resistance to slow the exit of a calf.

Fastforward hours and .... {yawns} ... hours.

Bambi has wanted to be REALLY close. Yes. If she could go through the front door, she probably would have. Emotional bolstering; Us her people.

So she settled in for a cosie homebirth ... in our front garden .....

..... and we watched as our milk bar subdivided, as one cow become two. It was rough yet beautiful, messy yet so wholesome. Nothing dainty or neat about birthing. Pain and mess and effort!

Made me wonder why I try so hard to have life looking so together when it's obvious that out of the struggle comes life. I should be embracing more of those tricky bits of my existence and call them 'birthing'.

The next crisis could be me in 'transition'. Times when I'm most vulnerable, exposed, hurting, overwhelmed, directionless, frustrated .. {place another trillion adjectives here} .. are the times when I am on the verge of newness and life.

And life is gorgeous. Look!.

A chocolate cow. A girl. No freezer coffin for this one. Maybe she will give us some chocolate milk?

Knowing the Knower of all Knowing

2009-08-28T09:23:00.018+10:00

My baby was caught catching up on a bit of light reading this morning.

I'm not surprised. If he has any of my genetics, he will be wondering about the how of things with a disturbing passion for many years yet.

Some crave chocolate, others stuff .... for me, it's information.

Ok. Carbs and chocolate are pretty good too but I have to admit. There is nothing like a truth sinking into my knowing and expanding my heart even beyond any expectation of feeling. Didn't a guy called David describe it as "apples of gold"? Odd metaphor but I totally agree with his implication.

Sometimes though, thinking starts to invade the 'who' of me. I loose sleep because I have a trillion boxes still open in my head, my thoughts have become so micro managed, I loose even the most basic perspective on life and I start to psycholanalyse everyone instead of just enjoying them.

I can just see my husband nodding enthusiastically and silently standing in empathy with spouse's of those suffering from "terminal thinking".

But it's not all bad. Truth and greatness are well worth the chase given I remember that it's one thing knowing how but definitely another thing knowing the knower of all knowing.

One will provide a fleshy compulsive strive for information which leads to self reliance and pride and independance. The other will establish me in the amazing journey of finding the creator of "all things how", the source of all things that were, and are and ever will be, not as some disturbing "eternal kind of google" but as One Who knows the most intimate parts of me yet still desires to KNOW me.

I'll restrain myself from saying 'HOW' and just instead say 'WOW'!

3 Hour Barking

2009-08-26T07:47:00.001+10:00

~ Wordless Wednesday ~

I Do Follow

2009-08-25T07:44:00.003+10:00

It's really hit me lately on how much we all enjoy response and I don't just mean the bloggerised "comment and hit count" kind.

Response to a job well done or a creative activity we have poured ourselves into or for being someone others just like being around. And what wife doesn't love response from their husbands when communicating and via versa. What husband doesn't want response from their wives when ... err ... when {heck my kids read this} when doing what guys love to do with their wives. I guess God created us for Him to enjoy initially, so that we could 'respond' back to Him as He adores us.

Cool Ahh moment this one.

Sure, we don't need it but isn't life more substantial when feedback, interaction and appreciation is bandied around. I have to admit that when I was younger and a little more insecure, my behaviour was channelled a little too much by my procuring of response. Now it's becoming more the icing on top of the sweet cake of living from who I am.

Was swishing this around in my brain and then I got Graces' email. She blogs over at Beyond The Black Stump and encouraged me by giving me this "I do follow". Thank you Grace for being an encourager and for all of you who do affirm me in whatever it is that I do here ... turning into words the plethora of thoughts that have been tossed and prodded and processed and then regurgitated into either my husbands ears or onto the blogspace that has my name on it. Yes, my husband DOES in fact, encourage me to blog ... then he can process my thoughts one at a time instead of the deluge I usually drown him with.

The world is fattened by encourager's, by those who pull out the greatness in others to share with all. Really, any fool can showcase our faults. Takes a secure and well trained eye to dig the mountain of dirt from a person to find the nuggets of gold.

I love my gold diggers.

Slow Down Dunes

2009-08-23T15:28:00.020+10:00

Talk to anyone I know in the skin and they will tell you that I have been looking forward to not having so much in my thinker, to doing 'boring' for a while, to slowing down.

.... and when I do SLOW DOWN, I'm not entirely happy either .... see?!

...... Go figure.

Guess I don't think I really know what I want. So I may as well trust the manufacturer on the stuff that He sends my way. Anticipate my days without having to pre-arrange a different kind, type, size, timing ...... or speed of life.

Said it before but now more resolved to live with expectancy. Not expectation. Brain, get it, get it, get it!!!

Post Note:

I hit Mach 4 sitting on the board deafening all those within a 2 mile radius but alas, no tape.

Post, Post Note:

Kids shorter than my belly button absolutely FLY down sand hills.

You Want Me To Leave The Car Where?

2009-08-18T17:44:00.001+10:00

~ Wordless Wednesday ~

Fruit Chasing

2009-08-15T19:53:00.006+10:00

If the wind isn't blowing, days are usually warmer spent out on our deck. I can sit on the old lounge and look across the valley to the river backdropped by the mountains. This view is captivating, the sounds stilling and the smells definitely country. No better classroom hey? The very scene that lured me away from everything I knew and was comfortable with in the city.

Today though, my focus didn't even make it past our boundary fence. On the other side of our pool is a carob tree. We planted it there hoping it would provide shade for summers in the water. We did not realise however, how slow these suckers grow. A native gum would have possibly been a better option casting shade all over the place by now.

But my pondering wasn't remiss of our choice of tree. It wasn't in regret of my lack of botany research. I had sat in this same place almost everyday for close on a decade. Looked out over Gods fingerprint and awed at His reflection. This tree, even though it is part of the scene, has always been looked through; not around, not over but through. It is placed prominently smack in the middle of the picture but my attention seems to be commonly captured further down the valley.

Today was different though; this tree had me hooked. Now full and robust, spreading as wide as it was tall, it stood over double my height. This unassuming masterpiece which had started the size of my hand, had kept on through drought, flood, wind bordering house wrecking gales, and without our pandering, had just consistently done what trees do.

Hasn’t needed the scaffold of appreciation or applause to support it’s value, hasn’t set concrete goals, visions or outcomes which can be blocked emotionally shipwrecking it’s life, it just appears to be very happy being what it is, where it is regardless of our input or opinions. This carob is definitely one quiet and solid achiever.

Yes. I know. Bizarre impressions I get from looking at a tree. But even though the looking was pleasant the most amazing impression I believe was beyond the carobs life; more from its maker. Profound, timely, substantial.

Like the tree, my life produces fruit CONSISTENT with where I am in growth right now. Great fruit makes me no better, no more valuable, no holier; it's just what is. A life consistant with juicy fruit will however, find me more freedom, give me a greater quality of life and precede continued depth in my unimaginable growing relationship with my God though ... can't knock that.

Just goes to show that no amount of straining or technique will manufacture outcome from my life that isn't consistent with the truth I have grown to believe. As I discover and live out my life responding to Who He is, I will get better at it and my fruit, the outcomes in my life, will become richer and more substantial.

That truth shared, I will still be tempted by the world to produce a facade that implies my worth. But this only when I believe I have no worth to begin with and decide to manufacture some to avoid the pain of worthlessness.

Again, the world tempts me to produce applause by placing myself in the middle of attention. But knowing that I am valued now, my life is not motivated by approval but now by feeding the desires that are unique and worthy in me that He placed there.

Success also tempts me to race ahead of His timing desiring outcomes from my life way beyond the seasons of my maturity. What I miss in living in the future is the years of enjoying the people in my life now, the lessons that life teaches about who I am and how He feels about that. I risk killing the rich fruit of my life before it even matures.

So from this amazing perspective of living my life wholeheartedly from the depths of the unique bents He knit together in me, copied straight from His image, all for good, I can feel whole and complete, sence the richness of emotion and slow to savor the true 'big rocks' in my life, the gems that have eternal value instead of the elusive chase of fruit or outcomes that a well lived life can only produce.

Now the outcomes of my life are put back into their place of a result of living; not the purpose of my life.

Jesus Loves Me

2009-08-15T10:51:00.001+10:00

This song is a bit of the picture of my 'story'. The start where I believed the 'words on the page' although didn't know the author behind them. To the place where I crave the author more than the air I breath.

Grant will lure you to our Father's heart to want to know Him. Perspective is heightened and His word becomes the starting place of an amazing love affair with the author Who will woo you way beyond His 'words on a page'.

Hospital Oopes

2009-08-07T07:02:00.004+10:00

Been on a computer fast so this post probably does well to reflect the state of my rested brain .... thanks Pauline who sent it to me.

Hospital Chart Bloopers

These are actual entries found in hospital medical charts during chart audits. This guy started collecting them as he audited charts until he finally had enough to publish a book. Here are a few of the best....

1. The patient refused autopsy.

2. The patient has no previous history of suicides.

3. Patient has left white blood cells at another hospital.

4. She has no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was very hot in bed last night.

5. Patient has chest pain if she lies on her left side for over a year.

6. On the second day the knee was better and on the third day it disappeared.

7. The patient is tearful and crying constantly. She also appears to be depressed.

8. The patient has been depressed since she began seeing me in 1993.

9. Discharge status: Alive but without permission.

10. Healthy appearing decrepit 69-year-old male, mentally alert but forgetful.

11. Patient had waffles for breakfast and anorexia for lunch.

12. She is numb from her toes down.

13. While in ER, she was examined, x-rated and sent home.

14. The skin was moist and dry.

15. Occasional, constant infrequent headaches.

16. Patient was alert and unresponsive.

17. Rectal examination revealed a normal size thyroid.

18. She stated that she had been constipated for most of her life, until she got a divorce.

19. I saw your patient today, who is still under our car for physical therapy.

20. Both breasts are equal and reactive to light and accommodation.

21. Examination of genitalia reveals that he is circus sized.

22. The lab test indicated abnormal lover function.

23. Skin: somewhat pale but present.

24. The pelvic exam will be done later on the floor.

25. Patient has two teenage children, but no other abnormalities. "

Dishy Guy

2009-08-05T07:52:00.004+10:00

Wordless Wednesday

My second eldest guy at Forbes Space Centre

.... anyone remeber the movie 'The Dish'?

A-mazed Although Giddy

2009-07-26T21:02:00.004+10:00

Wordless Wednesday

Tim & Gabby at Darling Harbour, Sydney

Imaged In His Eyes

2009-07-26T20:36:00.029+10:00

This is my man ... my main guy. The big dude not the little one. Although you would think otherwise if you were to judge by where my time is spent.

And granted, it's not the greatest photo of him but there is something really symbolic about this shot that is so bloggable. See my God assailed the 'normal' in the everyday when I saw this pic and gave me a nugget of truth, a parallel of the spiritual with the natural, oh let's face it. He drew me up on His lap and discussed the issues of the universe with me.

Just lost all those rigid folk who find it hard to believe that God shares His Kingdom affairs with the average. And definitely not with someone lacking the 'right' credentials, education or social status or even the right address. Heck, she lives on the belly of the world; underneath this earth even.

But isn't that what totally messes with you? That the creator of everything, the most awesome "I AM" doesn't regard our human hierarchy and finds value in ALL His hands has made.

My Friend wants to communicate, to play, quite frankly to be in tight with everyone. A living, breathing to-ing and fro-ing of contact, of giving and reflecting truths.

And aint it the truth that I will become like Who I hang around and if the Who is Him, I'm destined to be Him flavoured. Reflecting His greatness too which, He tells me, is what I can do best since I was made in His image. Kind of portrays what I read today that...

People are attracted most to those who they see themselves reflected.

My guy must be adorable then cus look at my picture. More precisely, at the image reflected in the left lens of his sunnies.

IT'S ME.

Or more dramatically,

I am reflected in the eyes of my man.

And metaphorically, both my men! That be my man with skin on, my tangible companion committed to me til I'm dust and my Man who made me, knows my inner most being and totally completes me.

Profound?

You bet. I am in the equation of their lives. Can say "I'm with Him" or them really. But not just any hims. With a him who is totally mine and a Him who is the the master of all Hims.

"From Him, through Him and to Him are all things." Rom 11:36

Bookworm ... err Booksnake

2009-07-22T07:16:00.001+10:00

All Things Chocolate

2009-07-19T09:32:00.009+10:00

Driving east over Australia's 'Great Divide', a sense of overwhelming fulfilment and depth struck me. Embraced yes. But what is bizarre about this encounter is it occurred in the most inconceivable time, in the most uncondusive environment to even survive, not even entertaining the notion of it thriving and blowing my mind.

Picture this.

A six hour journey from Parkes to Dungog in a bus with ten children ranging from 15 months to eighteen years old [crazy right there no doubt]. We have all had very little sleep over the past two nights through enormous amounts of peer stimulation. Most are loaded and primed with treats filled with sugar and preservatives, basically the very nectar of child behavioural problems keeping noise levels at a steady droan and antagonisation to at least tolerance.

We are an emotional time bomb waiting to explode all over our blue ford lunch box looking transit.

Just over three hours into our trip the sun is setting an amazing pink and blue on the horizon. The children are asking intelligent and Einsteinish kind of questions. Our bellies are full of snacks and coffee and all things chocolate.

And my heart expands.

I am overwhelmed by emotion and a feeling of fullness. Leaning back and exhaling with satisfaction, I savor and soak up every last drop.

{deep long sigh}

Hits me so unexpected. Clueless to hang any reason on this random warm fuzzy but so very grateful for it.

God just chose to pick this moment in time to reach into my world and invade all my senses way beyond my understanding. Skill to dissect or share of its pleasure are not in my possession, so I selfishly wallow.

I join Oliver Twist and shamelessly appeal; 'Please sir. May I have some more'

Bowl still in my extended hand, I know this moment is slipping away although I struggle fruitlessly to stay in that place.

Water is spilt all over my five year old and he protests very loudly with vocabulary not to be found in his english workbook. Two older children wrestle over space, rights and position expressing their desired outcomes in demanding tones, and declaring their displeasure and blocked goals with limited empathy.

And oh .... my driver, who has required all focus on the task of tricky country roads, night driving and dodging [or riding right over] kangaroo carcasses is reeling in his surging reaction to his invasion of ability to move his family from point a to b. He pulls over to regroup and express his perspective on this situation in forceful tones. What we have here somewhat resembles a coke bottle shaken and shaken and then shaken again for good measure.

Is my Eden stolen?

Is my hope shot?

Is my peace detrimentally influenced?

Hmmm .... possibly. But more than likely it would have been a lot worse if He hand' t caught my attention in His unique and overwhelmingly delicious way five minutes earlier.

~ great with groceries for the larger family ~

2009-07-15T07:21:00.001+10:00

Blessing Boss Sacked

2009-07-13T14:55:00.010+10:00

Well, I officially sack myself from being the 'Meeter Of My Needs', emotional and tangible, cause after 40 years, I found that I suck at it.

I quit.

Let myself go even.

Gave myself a redundancy package with the best bonuses possible. Because now that I'm retired from being my own private 'blessing boss', I can sit on my porch of anticipation and be marvelled at how a huge God can be so enamored by His tiny although uncomprehendingly complex creation. That be me. I can now experience how my Father really feels about me and it is all good.

Letting go, life can be enjoyed His way. Him the provider and carer and sustainer of His child. Think of it. All that time I'm not co-ordinating everyone around me for my needs can be used to enjoy His time, His efforts, His gifts through the hands and feet of His children. Oh, and my favorite. My two juiciest love languages. His words spoken to me and for me and over me which feel like the warmest embrace ever; none I could ever possibly procure from anyone around me anyway.

How on earth did I ever believe that I could manufacture love, acceptance or stuff from anyone anyway and have it still be full, selfless and unconditional. What a doosey of a lie I fell for. How could I be such a putz. I guess everything looked good on the outside. No obvious Poe Far's. In fact, things appeared quite the opposite.

But there was a subtle yet pivotal flaw. Sure common and undetected in most of us suckers. Yet one which steals the very essence of feeling the depth He has for us directly and through others. In it's essence, the lie; seeing people as opportunities instead of seeing them as individuals to enjoy.

This is so rooted in unbelief. It is core of faith, basic in our relationship with Christ. It's so sad because it screams 'I DON'T believe He is the source of our desires.'

This means then, that if we didn't do for ourselves, then nothing good would come out way. So people become tools for our own happiness instead of an incredible source of enjoyment. We approach them with an agenda and our sleeves rolled up to work a predetermined outcome instead of the anticipation of how two lives can connect and enjoy the greatness of each, inherent from our Father. We are so ripped off when contact is diluted to a demanding expectation of working at others with requests rather than the rest in expectancy, the sweetness of sharing each other and the honor of giving our acceptance and stuff because we want to, not because we have to.

So now sacked, I possibly have less to do today. But I'm going to be listening to how I can uniquely be His hands an heart although not only anticipating but looking out for His heart for me through others.

All That In A Blog.

2009-07-11T13:26:00.015+10:00

Some days I wake up already talking in my sleep. I have so much stuff that just needs to be heard, that needs to be shared, I follow my family around the house unloading these great nuggets.

Some days they politely nod with a plastic smile on their face which screams

"what in the world is she talking about!"

Other days I will connect with my husband or one of my babies with a truth that is stirring in both of us. This for me, is my 'hallmark' moment, is right up there with summer days and chocolate. The connection of two hearts wallowing in a truth straight from the truth maker Himself.

My pulse quickens, my heart expands and my tongue trips over itself while messing with new vocabulary to find adequate expression.

And when it's all said, there is that afterglow of satisfaction; of knowing, and of been known. If I smoked, I would almost be tempted to light a cigarette although not sure if I even what to use this metaphor, I will back out of this corner before I get myself into trouble.

The more I hang around the blogasphere though, the more I am discovering this exchange of hearts happening through writing.

Today a lady sitting in the dark, literally, on the other side of the world has no idea that something she wrote has had a profound effect on me. Her writing has altered my foundational thinking therefor the entire outcome of my future.

Heavy huh?

If you are reading this, odds are you blog. So have it known that you are in a position of great influence, of leadership and in that of shaping lives. You life and words make a difference. Your journey and reflection are scaffold for others walking along side you now and in the future. This is true of where ever words can be shared.

We have the amazing privilege to reveal to others what God thinks about them so they can feel His love; tell them how their existence has benefited you so they can see their purpose; tell them when you really enjoy them and wallow in their 'made in His image' self so they can see that they're accepted.

There is a buzz in watching hits and followers, but what would majorly blow me away is to be able to see somehow the fruit our writing has had, especially writing chocked with meaty bits of His truth showcased by those who have journeyed the storm and come out the other end still flat out crazy with their God.

This kind of writing impacts the direction of lives, it's pivotal in destiny and legacy and reveals how much God adores His creation and desires to restore relationship and intimacy with a world who craves nothing but.

Amazing.

All that in a blog.

Fuzzy Me

2009-07-09T07:38:00.003+10:00

What is it going to take to get this phone to charge?!

No matter how hard I pushed or twisted or manipulated the charger, it wouldn't go into my phone. I studied both the phone slot and the pokey in bit yet without getting my glasses, I wasn't going to find much out.

I'm not old enough to need glasses yet!

And I'm too lazy to want to go find them anyway .... I can do it another way; my way.

Next best thing was to get my kids to look at it; keep my denial and procrastinating attitude to boot. So biggest boy took on my delmer in a bid to solve poor blind and dim mums problem.

Why is that phone still beeping low battery?

He gave up! That's not like him ... that was a great opportunity for his ego. Solution .... try another kid. Younger girl is a whiz with a lot of stuff and would definitely problem solve this issue for me

.... although my issue became hers and now we both had bigger problems than technology; attitudinal ones.

So now my equally as big but still technically younger son steps in probably more to stop these women from whining. He persevered with that sucker for at least half an hour, poking in impressive looking tools and almost getting it on many occasions.

Until ...

we hit that defining moment.

Life had delivered us yet another booger.

We SMS'ed my man with the last remaining energy the dying phone had with our bad news and then sat in silence waiting for my 'only two month old' phone to take it's last breath.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! .....

It was very emotional.

Very humbling ....... but not as humbling as .....

"Mum! Your using the wrong charger. That's dad's!"

Almost biggest daughter had walked in on our wake. She saw the power supply we had tried to use and instinctively knew it was futile.

How can power work for something it wasn't designed for?

Oh God, I want to use your power; your strength. I don't want to live life through fuzzy eyes anymore. Please plug me in cause I know I can't and I am over wasting all my time and last bits of energy trying to jam in supplies that don't feed me.

My Ten Names

2009-07-08T13:47:00.004+10:00

Sandra [real name]

Sanizzle [gangster name]

first three letters of real name plus ‘izzle’

Burgandy Horse [detective name]

Favourite color and favourite animal

Jane Fosterton [soap opera name]

Your middle name and the street you live on

Dehsa [star wars name]

The first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 Letters of your first name

Teal Smoothie [superhero name]

Second favourite color and favourite drink

Ahdrnke [Iraqi name]

2nd letter of your first name, 3rd letter of your Last name, 1st letter of your last name, 2nd letter of your moms maiden Name, 3rd letter of your dads name, 1st letter of a siblings first name, And last letter of your moms first name

Miriam Mervin [witness protection name]

Parents middle names

Black Butterscotch [goth name]

Black plus your pets name

Sanique [ghetto name]

First three letters of your name plus ‘ique’

~ please tell me it's custard ~

2009-07-08T07:17:00.001+10:00

~ A really big seat or really small people? ~

2009-07-01T19:23:00.001+10:00

Death Of A Day

2009-07-01T17:39:00.008+10:00

In a rush.

No margin in my life. No room for the spontaneous, for reflection, for living in the moment.

I'm not alone; guilt is my constant companion. She rides me through the ever constant to do's that rule my day sapping joy from work I love.

Sleep, time and quiet become my idols. Grasping and lusting after them only fattens my already obese day as they taunt me, hovering like a mirage on the horizon.

The muscle of perspective needs to be strengthened although not rude, it waits patiently at the bottom of the list.

Always at the bottom.

Til I have the courage to ignore the noise of urgent and focus on the depth of important. Til I slay the habits of culture and embrace the reality of loving the ones I'm with.

To choose to ride the winds of change, floating activity designed to enjoy the hearts in my life and to be content with an unknown destination; not one of my choice, but chosen for me before the conception of my friend time; for a purpose beyond both of us; for His pleasure.

Still now.

Hope grows.

Resolve shackles my trust and faith in the designer of the Big Picture. I surrender to Him the shreds of the precious day He gave me; ashamed at it's eternal waste ...

and yet;

already profoundly forgiven.

"It's useless to rise early and go to bed late, and work your worried fingers to the bone.

Don't you know he enjoys giving rest to those he loves?"

Psalm 127:1b

6th In The 6th Photo Tag

2009-06-29T07:34:00.018+10:00

Here's a bit of fun. Never done one of these before but I can do different. Sandra over at 'A Groovy Kind Of Life' Tagged me to select the 6th picture in my 6th photo folder and give an insightful, creative and delightfully entertaining description of the story behind the photo ... no worries mate!!

We were kicked out! Mark had banished me from my own home. The kids and I could not go back even if we crawled, groveled, begged, whined, manipulated, bribed or seduced. That was it.

So I did what any well educated, refined and socially apt woman would do.

I ran home to mommy and daddy.

This was to the same mom who told me on my wedding day that if Mark and I had a fight, she would take his side!

HIS.!!

Good thing we weren't fighting!

Even better that my amazing man was in fact, looking after his wife [that be me] and his babies.

Our timber floors had become thread bare; unpolished; splintery even. So he sanded, buffed, polished and lacquered our floors within an inch of their shiny lives whilst living outside for a week with the plethora of slithery, stingy and bighty creatures that non Australians believe inhabit our country.

Meanwhile, back at Granmas, we were going boating with Poppy .... hard to take but some just have to endure it ... for the sake of all boating suppliers out there .... think of the families they have to support!!

Pop wrapped his ten grand babies in layer after layer of floatation gizmo's, [Naomi is exhibit A in the photo] popped them in the Tinny* two by two, and hooned around the Brisbane Water's in a serene kind of boaty stupor.

Was nice.

Men got to be providers and do. Women got to be relational and be. And kids got to be free and live.

Notes:

* - Tinny: small outboard boat maybe it's name derived from the fact that it is as small as a tin can.... almost.

My story done ...... now it's your turn. So I tag:

Naomi at Hiz Little Rocker,
Mary at Mary R Snyder,
Warren at Family Fountain,
Brad at Presence. Voice. Touch,
Genny at My Cup 2 Yours,
Holland at More Than I Can Bare &
Stacy at Soul Restoration

1. Go to your photo files… Select the 6th photo folder or album.
2. Select the 6th photo in that folder/album.
3. Post that photo along with the story behind it.
4. Then challenge some blog friends to do the same!

Woowy To Enjoy

2009-06-27T13:55:00.006+10:00

This is just bouncing off Nicole over at "living my life on purpose" who is doing a series on relationships ....

We cannot form a relationship with anyone whilst we are constantly picking at their faults. Even if we just salt a little fault finding into that relationship, it causes a deafness or a hardening of the others heart toward us.

They may as well put their fingers in their ears and sing

'la la la la la la'.

Cannot force, control, manipulate, judge, fault find, criticize into relationship....!

Like Christ we woo, encourage, showcase the "made in His image" greatness in them, and ENJOY them. That's why He created us, why He bought us back into relationship .. not to work for Him [although we do because we want to more than anything] not to have fire insurance or a ticket to heaven [even though we have His Kingdom available to us NOW ... here on earth as it is in heaven] but because He made us so inviting, so attractive, so fulfilling, so fascinatingly irresistible for HIM to enjoy.

Time And Timing Are His

2009-06-26T08:56:00.018+10:00

Ricky

2 Oct 04 to 27 Oct 05

Who can ever account for the bizarre directions you take and amazing people you meet meandering through the links and connections of the blogasphere.

Some are amusing....

some are pretty....

some are definitely very entertaining....!

This morning though, I was not prepared for the site I visited. My big children had the very rare opportunity to sleeping in whilst I sobbed over a story that transcends into the unknown of eternal. This weeping though wasn't all just of the 'that's really sad' kind but also of celebration of life and new beginnings. Of the pain associated with vulnerability but the gain from the depth that can be felt because of it.

Meg and Ricky's journey left a imprint on my life, a 'standing stone' that will influence who I am and my choices into the future. Read her tribute to her son. {here} It will change you. Below is what poured out from my heart a comment I felt compelled to leave on his site.

Irony is probably not the right word to use in describing the timing of finding Ricky's site. You see, it has been a year this month since my baby boy was on a machine in ICU. He was only months old and already fighting for what we all take for granted ... his life.

The physical and emotional journey of that struggle and further complications could only be walked in God's strength as I had reached the 'end of me' in what I could do to preserve my baby's life. The helplessness and smallness of that place is huge and only magnified further as I now look through still blurry eyes and tired arms at my thirteen month old baby boy. He is the same age now as when Ricky met our Jesus.

We are walking out of this valley although I wonder why He has led me here to meet Ricky. Is He reminding me of the amazing perspective on life He gave me through this journey or of how He expanded my heart to love beyond what I ever thought I could? To allow my heart to feel at a depth that hurts so much yet paradoxically is way beyond any substance of love I have ever imagined? Or how He taught me how to release the need to control outcomes and trust Him unconditionally? To trust that the way He leads and loves through my 'made in His image' heart are precious freedoms?

Am I now [at risk], being out of the urgency, of licking wounds and beginning to structure my life to prevent further pain walking straight out of His freedom? Am I at risk of loosing that perspective of the amazing value He has for life and for the depth of relationship that expands from that? [Am I here to remember the fragrance of His freedom He gave Me when I 'recoginsed' that I am hopeless without Him?] He has a reason, my encounter here is not irony and I anticipate the knowing.

Wordless Wednesday ~ Verticle Forward Motion; trickier than it seems

2009-06-24T10:39:00.003+10:00

Don't We All Blog Naked?

2009-06-19T19:52:00.032+10:00

Blank Blogger screen ... cursor flashin'; flashin'; flashin'.

Kinda wish it was Wordless Wednesday cause then I could just find a really bizarre photo, which our family does really well and whack it up here with some quirky kind of caption. Is it possible I have nothing to say?

Nahhhh.

Highly unlikely!

Maybe I just have too much to say and can't decide between the plethora of thoughts surging through my twenty four seven mind.

More believable?

But then again ..... maybe it's because I have no idea why I write. I mean, been new to blogging, I have to ask. Why on earth do we dig out the utter most guttural emotional depths of our heart and hang them out on the world wide whatsit for whomever to scrutinize? Kind of like striping down naked and blindfolded in the park with Sunday crowds perusing us like artwork isn't it?

"Sigh"

So why do I blog?

"Thinking ..... "

"Wondering .... "

"Watching a bit of the movie that the family are engrossed in .... "

"Thinking about something totally unrelated ..... "

"Climbing into the refrigerator as a form of procrastination topping up my already full belly ..... "

Maybe I can find clues to my question by asking a different question; "why do I read?"

Could it be for the community that grows from connecting and leaving comments, or for the gritty gems of truth which have me leave my computer screen a little freer, or maybe for the pure entertainment and humor in how some can regurgitate their daily lives? And I hate to admit it, but it's quite possible that there could also be as a form of procrastination because I don't know how to, or want to progress in my own life. Or even worse, making sure I do life right by checking up on how the 'experts' do it, God ordained, perceived or self proclaimed..... following the crowd.

Your right! It's probably a mix of everything. Although I'm thinking, even this should not shape my motive in why and how I blog? And building on that truth, obviously to manipulate my behaviour to facilitate what I believe would be a success in the blogasphere grasping at hits and comments or showcasing our lives for applause and approval would sadly feed fleshy, Pharisaical persuasions in all of us. Even attempts to build a 'ministry' can be erroneously rooted more in my own value than in an honest Spirit led 'word in season' God works through all of us. All this self rooted motives I want to RUN from, to not get tangled up or lured into. Keep those rocks way out of my backpack.

So how on earth does this benefit either one of us? I hear Him enticing me to put the insides of me out there, to be the older women which I crave and know it will be a sweet place when I can do this with honest and selfless motives. Motives rooted in love ... "I can even sacrifice my own body but without love, it's nothing".

So to blog in Love .... Oh Lord, help. Define that a little more; put some skin on that. How do I feel Your love?! Hmmm ... in this season, what I adore is falling further by the simple act of surrender, into Your Grace and sensing Your approval and enjoyment before I 'do' anything. I watch and feel You wallow in the "made in His image" creation I am, enticing out Your greatness through my hands and feet.

Well that's a place to start I suppose; recognising His fingerprint and image in others and then using my "fishes and loaves" skills and passion for the manipulation of words to display His truth through the stories and people in my life.

Simple.

Haha.

By the way, I prefer not to be naked or blindfolded so please; talk to me. Use that comments thingy.

Wordless Wednesday ~ Putting My Toungue Where My Tail Will Be

2009-06-17T16:28:00.000+10:00

Where'd The Road Go?

2009-06-07T14:36:00.016+10:00

Remember trying to see how many uni students you could cram into a v-dub beetle? Well, that's what we did with out Saturday. Although it was a v-dub beetle, it was our troop carrier and it wasn't uni students; it was our family .... all twelve of us.

In our "not so squeezy" state, entombed like Egyptian mummies, we followed six other four wheel drive vehicles into search of the nastiest and sloppy looking, dirt tracks. To picture our situation a little better for those who are more visual .... it's like God picked up our troopie and shook it. For once, the boys were not cautioned for headbutting; I jest really.

Our men were in their "testostronal" elements, whooping and grunting, scratching and far .... err .... well, they were enjoying themselves and I really loved watching them enjoy themselves even if it was fed by them feeling more manly compared to my less courageous vision of where our only working vehicle could drive.

Seems like a worthy metaphor for how I am feeling at the moment though. We've been crusin', working, planning, doing and it appears in the process of busyness, the road has vanished like in the video; it's either just dropped away or became overgrown but it definitely looks like I will be doing some 'bushbashing' if I am to be moving forward. To use a more Christianeze term, I will have to step out in faith. And that is as daunting as having to put the troopie down that cliff.

So to avoid stalling or even worse, procrastinating, I will go with what I know, with where I believe my Father was leading me last. Bits of my life don't look anything like other families around me but I know I wasn't called to conformity so I wont be looking to "same" as a signpost.

Some bits of my life just look to me down right scary so I ask Father if I'm walking into a minefield and TRUST that He will tell me if I am. And I'll definitely be simplifying and getting rid of dead wood so as not to use any unproductive energy... a bit like cutting back some trees to see if I can find the track again

Daunting? Yep Scary? Sure! But sure beats sitting in the one place or going around in circles. And it's crowded and noisy enough here to remind me that I am definitely not travelling alone.

Why Is It Such A Big Secret?

2009-06-01T10:06:00.023+10:00

A question was posed in "The Secret" at Perichoresis ; Why do we struggle to taste or see the depth in life, or the greatness and beauty in a child, or the amazing complexity of a flower? Why can life for some be flat and bland regardless of huge efforts? The book leads to divulging the secret .....

This is such a 'now' story for me as He revealed to me how much I had overlooked in my life, how much I had missed, how little I had tasted, how often I lived off the surface of the wealth that surrounded me. I was missing the depth and "life" of what was in front of my face. But maybe I should back up a bit and divulge a few other truths He has shown me since.

He has been making real my identity in Him ... how I look through the eyes of the One who made me. He has told me I can't disappoint Him because of His grace, that my life was created to share with Him {relationship} and is a response to who He is. I am valued and have purpose because He made me {that way} therefore I do; it isn't the other way around ... I do, work, strive because I need to become or prove to myself and others, that I am valued, belong or have a purpose. The first way, recognising my value in Him is living in His Grace, the second of striving for my own value is living under the law. Under the law, I spend my life and energy wholly trying to procure my needs of value, belong and purpose from others not realising that I HAVE THESE NEEDS MET ALREADY. He told His son three times that "This is my Son, Whom I love; in Him I am well pleased!" We have the same inheritance … we are in Him.

From this place of Grace, from realising I don't have to procure my own value, I find FREEDOM. Freedom from having to meet my own essential needs like an addict frantic for her next fix. My needs are met. It is finished by Him. Done for me. Who was it that said, "I was freed for freedoms sake." They were right. I am freed to be me..... sounds like a great name for a blog hey? hmmmm.

Now I can live sensitive to the desires He created in me which were made in His image anyway .... direct from the Fathers heart. I can now live freed from having to try and fill my own tank {which is impossible for me to do anyway} and have the time and energy to notice the people around me and respond to them with a response rooted in His goodness to me. I am now free to initiate a celebration, a work of beauty or to manifest who He made me to be which ironically gives Him glory, reveals more of Him to those who are around me.

I am free to shine like a star giving credit to it's creator, like a work of art makes famous it's artist. I am free to stand as a signpost pointing to the core of all existence, all that has substance, all that will ever find any satisfaction or fulfilment in my life. He has taken my broken life with bits missing {Him} and fixed me.

My journey is now Him revealing to me His heart, His reactions, His purposes. How He initiates and reacts. See, I now have the time to hear and see and revel in these amazing revelations as my focus is off me and my eyes glued to Him {hmmm can I walk on water too} ... not because I have to though, but because I want to. To marinate in His wonder and substance is the first order of the day as I’ don’t need to strive to fix myself or elicit my own needs.

Sure, He is still renewing my mind from lies that have me walk into walls, pits and dog dirt but as He reveals those erroneous beliefs, it allows me to ask Him to show me the truth, show me why I believed a lie and it's usually tied up in my previous ‘value procuring need’ which amazingly, no longer has the dramatic pull on my life.

So what does this have to do with the tasty, deep bits of life? Actually, I have to admit that I am feeling a bit like a fish out of water. What I knew and was rotton but comfortable is now gone and CHANGE is taking it’s place …. Ahhhhh. But that’s good!!! {right?} See, no longer is my day filled with goals and visions of the “making of myself” therefore I have the time, the headspace, the inclination and desire to see things as they are, to study them, to unpack them and to be blown away by them. God decluttered me BIG TIME. Simplified even. Life is emerging now with a deepening quality, a fresh substance a tastier palette which I find myself desiring, following, even chasing after.

And the secret: Immanuel ~ God with us.

“In Him we live and move and have our being”

To Think Or Not To Think; That is the Question.

2009-05-20T16:01:00.008+10:00

Over my life God has freeze framed encounters I have had with Him. On one particular encounter, He told me to “raise leaders, not followers”. I had no idea how to do this but I knew enough that if He had asked me to do something, He would give me the tools too. Our life of learning has grown and shrunk and culled and introduced and has become a lot more “living” than dead, more purposeful than requirement and more discovery than standards. After 14 years, we are definitely more motivated and flexible than when we started and even though we look somewhat eclectic, are obviously creating more thinkers under grace than producers under the law. One word for that …. freedom!!!

I was so excited [did a little happy dance on the inside] to find God guiding others along a similar path. Learning in life with your kids or want to?

Pop over to Kerry Beck's Blog. She is very real and has outlaid some very interesting issues that can't be ignored.

Wordless Wednesday ~ Finding Love In All The Wrong Places

2009-05-11T16:19:00.007+10:00

Would You Like Guilt With That?

2009-05-11T15:36:00.008+10:00

Decided to delegate and get Kyler to do some posting for me ...... ? This little guy is definately one passionate writer. Why am I doing this? Discovered that I am probably spending more time posting comments than I am making my own blog posts. Anyone eles do that? Seems to me that I 'bounce off others' a lot better than just digesting my own stuff. Not a viable idea you say?

Ok. Plan B.

Well hows this. Since some of my comments are definately blog length, I'll post one of the more self explanitory ones here. This is one I posted over at "Living Above The Line"; mom, author and pastor, Neridah Walker has started this new blog. Still lets you see the inside of me on the outside.

~ ... ~ ... ~ ... ~ ... ~

Yes. Amazing stuff. Liberating even :) For so long I lived in guilt thinking I hadn't loved or educated my kids enough. But He exposed that lie!!!! He showed me that living under the law, is what we erroniously feel we need do for Him but under Grace, it's what He has already done for us. The first direction is under law the other is all about Grace. Noun verses Verb. Responsibility (law/noun) verses our "responce" (grace/verb) to Him. Expecations (law/noun) verses our "expectancy" (grace/verb) to His awesomness.

There is no way we would give our children a gift and expect them to respond in a certain way; we wait in expectancy to their responce. We don't tell them how to act or behave or what to do with our gift. Therefore there is no need for them to feel guilty for how they embrace our present. Same with our Daddy .... I can enjoy Him and His gift of Grace the way it oozes out of my "made in His image" bent of my individuality.

Our home and education is now becoming a journey of discovering Him more than having to reach a standard .....a guiltless, passionate, Creator chasing adventure.And Oh, I mentioned nouns and verbs because heres another AMAZING facet about Him. A noun is inamate and unresponsive whereas a verb is alive and active. How substantial is that?!!

Guys Rules

2009-05-02T14:16:00.011+10:00

Typically, I have a firm rule that I don't spam or post anonomous work BUT ..... there is almost always and exception to the rules and this is it. We laughed so hard over this one, fluid was forced from our body ....

Tears folks!!!

You were thinking something else, weren't you ..... but it WAS very close.

Thankyou whoever you are who wrote this. You are very clever ....

GUYS RULES

We always hear "the rules"f rom the female side.Now here are the rules from the male side.These are our rules!Please note... these are all numbered "1" ON PURPOSE!

1. Learn to work the toilet seat. You're a big girl. If it's up, put it down. We need it up, you need it down. You don't hear us complaining about you leaving it down.

1. Sunday sports. It's like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be.

1. Shopping is NOT a sport. And no, we are never going to think of it that way.

1. Crying is blackmail.

1. Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one: Subtle hints do not work! Strong hints do not work! Obvious hints do not work! Just say it!

1. Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.

1. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.

1. A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor

1. Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after 7 days.

1. If you won't dress like the Victoria's Secret girls, don't expect us to act like soap opera guys.

1. If you think you're fat, you probably are. Don't ask us.

1. If something we said can be interpreted two ways and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one.

1. You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.

1. Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to say during commercials.

1. Christopher Columbus did not need directions and neither do we.

1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows defaul t settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.

1. If it itches, it will be scratched. We do that.

1. If we ask what is wrong and you say "nothing," we will act like nothing's wrong. We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.

1. If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, expect an answer you don't want to hear.

1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine...Really.

1. Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as baseball, the shotgun formation, or monster trucks.

1. You have enough clothes.

1. You have too many shoes.

1. I am in shape. Round is a shape.

1. Thank you for reading this. Yes, I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight; but did you know men really don't mind that? It's like camping

Multiple Choice Future

2009-05-02T06:55:00.000+10:00

Catch Me Daddy

2009-04-28T14:53:00.015+10:00

Don't look - You might see

Don't listen - You might hear

Don't think - You might learn

Don't make a decision - You might be wrong

Don't walk - You might stumble

Don't run - You might fall

Don't live - You might die

Don't change - You might grow

anon

Don't believe a word of it.

Kyler Jack is thirteen months old and will jump without hesitation into daddy's arms off the table twice his height. He has no fears. His daddy is faithful and will catch him everytime. And so is ours. We don't need to fear falling or for that matter we don't need to fear being uncomfortable, unacceptable, unwealthy, unheard, unloved or undone. We CAN live in total freedom and abandon, being true to how He made us and asking Him to change the icky bits as they emerge. This is the place of total belonging, love & purpose and is never acheived in the presence of fear.

Life is full when we lay down our excuses and are broken enough to accept and totally trust Him. We need only offer our few loaves & fishes which are always enough for a total life of substance with no regrets. Imagine and taste a life totally enjoying our creator and being enjoyed by Him and living as a child who looks and behaves just like their daddy.

Look ~ You will see

Listen ~ You will hear

Think ~ You will learn

Decide ~ You can't disappoint

Walk ~ You will go places

Run ~ He will catch you

Live ~ Although to die is to be with Christ

Change ~ And be transformed into His image

Wordless Wednesday

2009-04-23T14:59:00.001+10:00