It turns out - I'm not over...

Today has been a super-emotional day. 

Maybe it's partly the Level Four lockdown we find ourselves back in, all of a sudden. Maybe it's the weird limbo of waiting for my Covid test results to come back. Maybe it's being stuck at home with three teenagers and two dogs, unable to leave the house until we get those test results. Maybe it's years of walking with my kids as they face down their giants, and the way lockdown threatens to derail all the hard-won progress, wrought through literal blood, sweat and tears. 

Probably it's a mix of everything, but this morning, all of a sudden I just couldn't.

This post is not about that. But that's the background to this feeling I have right now, this incredible gratitude, a fragile tenderness where tears are just below the surface.

Gratitude because - it turns out -  I'm not over.

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From the Ashes

It has been nearly three years since I left my marriage. It was the most difficult decision I have ever made, and one with the highest cost I’ve ever had to pay. It was ‘Hobson’s Choice’ you might say – the choice you have when there is really no other choice. When my marriage ended it wasn’t from lack of trying – we’d been in counselling since 2012, after all. But when all avenues have been tried and the pain being caused to all parties is greater than the benefit of staying, well, at some point you have to call ‘time’.

No-one walks away from a marriage lightly. No-one launches a grenade into their family on a whim; but still, I had no idea at the time just exactly what the price would be for that decision, though all things considered it was still the only decision that could have been made.

With the decision to walk away came Death of the Dream.

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Pearls

This post is the result of a conversation I had in the car with Scrag this morning - a deep and meaningful discussion about the meaning of life (the kind of talks I often find myself having with my eight-year-old. It's how we roll).
There we are driving along in traffic, rushing, on the cusp of lateness as always, and he says, "Mum do you think there's a plan for everything? Is there a point to it?"

See what I mean? Deep. This kid is DEEP.
I know where he's coming from, what he is trying to get at.
With all the crappy things that happen, is there a reason or plan behind it? Is there a reason why we go through stuff?

Here's how I answered him...

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When it feels like the World is Falling Apart...

I'm almost scared to check my news feed these days - what new soul-clenching, stomach churning madness has occurred while I was sleeping?
You probably know the feeling.
I have this urge to write, to vent, and get all the *grrrrr* off my chest, but do we really need another post like that cluttering up the interwebs? Another "this world is going to hell in a handbasket" opinion piece? I doubt it.

Sigh.
Chin up, I tell myself. This too shall pass.

I've been sitting here at the bottom of the world watching the madness unfold, feeling shocked and sickened as the fundamentalist American Church aligns itself with the most reprehensible human being we've had on the world stage in a long time. Their endorsement of him is doing irreparable harm to the name of Christ (who I love and try to follow). Making excuses for his inexcusable behaviour is painting the rest of the followers of Jesus with an awful tarnished brush. What they call Christianity, and Christian values has nothing to do with Jesus.

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Our Easter Traditions Roundup

Happy Easter! In case you're wanting something more than chocolate and bunnies to celebrate the reason for the season, I decided to pop up a quick post sharing our Easter inspiration from years gone by.
We've developed a tradition that of Easter dinners and communion in a Passover style which has evolved over the years... Beginning with this first crazy one way back in 2009, when hubby and I "time traveled" from AD30 to tell our kids about the first Easter - dressed as "Mary Magdalene" and "Peter".
It was hilarious - and thanks to Grandma's secret filming of our antics, we can still crack ourselves up at our dodgy accents.

• "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" - Easter 2009

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Belonging

This weekend just gone, our church staged it's Christmas Production in the Civic Theatre and my daughter Miss Fab was part of it. The production was "Les Miserables" - our own take on Victor Hugo's story of redemption, forgiveness and grace, set in 1800's France, with modern songs and amazing amateur talent.

What an incredible weekend! Over 3300 people came to see the show over two incredible performances. The singing, the acting, the staging - everything. AMAZE.

Hard to believe how far we've come from the days when we ad-libbed last minute skits, to now when months of hard work go into making a performance good enough to grace the Civic Theatre stage. I can remember the old days and see how far we've come because I've been around for donkey's years. I've been part of Equippers Auckland for 25 years - the longest I've ever belonged anywhere.

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Children's Garden in My Heart (Philippines Odyssey)

The first thing you notice about Manila is the heat. You walk out of the air-conditioned airport and wham, there you are in a sauna. Never mind that it's night time - the tropical air has sweat dripping off the end of your nose in minutes.

The next thing you notice is the traffic. There is no other traffic anywhere in the world like Manila traffic. Trust me on this. You think you have traffic where you live? Nope, you don't.

In Manila, you sit in traffic for an hour and lean across to your hubby and ask, are we nearly there? And he points to the Terminal Three building out your window, and says, haha, nope, we haven't left the airport yet.

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My Two Cents on the "Christian" Response to Gay Marriage

[source]

I had to write this post even though I know every man and his dog has already had their say on Social Media. In fact, that's exactly why I have to write this. Heck, America is not even my country but the stories have been clogging my Facebook feed all week, and the comments on those stories - the awful ugly comments - have literally made me sick. Actually vomitous. Like, I am lying awake at night feeling very upset.

So America has legalised gay marriage and the sky has started falling. No? OK, the end is near, fire is on it's way from Heaven, God is very upset and so is every Christian pastor who is worried he might be forced to marry gay people.... Come on!
Oh my goodness, the backlash! Is it true what my friend told me that a Texas pastor actually threatened to set himself on fire if the law was passed?
People! What the heck??!!!

My country, little ole New Zealand, legalised gay marriage back in 2013, and guess what? The sky didn't fall. The end didn't come, there was NO FIRE FROM HEAVEN to destroy us all.


Also, I've not heard of one Christian pastor who has been forced against his will to marry a gay couple.
Even stranger, the teachers at my kids' school who are gay didn't suddenly start forcing their gayness on their students. My kids are completely oblivious to the fact that some of their teachers are gay. Because guess what? The teachers are there to teach, and that's what they do. Their personal lives do not come into it. It's none of our business.

Why do I feel like I have to write a response to the outpourings of hate and judgement I have seen in my Facebook feed? Because I want to make it very clear to the people I know and love who are gay (and my straight friends who have gay people that they love) that the haters do not represent me.

And more importantly, THEY DO NOT REPRESENT JESUS EITHER.

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Kindness is Soul Veggies

It was a typical mad morning, we were rushing round doing the usual getting ready prep, while hubby took a moment to read some verses from Proverbs aloud (as he often does).

The verse which caught my attention was one I've never noticed before:

"Your own soul is nourished when you are kind;
it is destroyed when you are cruel..." 

(Proverbs 11:17-18 Living Translation)

When we are kind we think we are doing someone else a favour - but at the same time we are feeding our own soul.
Conversely when we have been are selfish/thoughtless/unkind to someone we may think we have done it to them,  but at the same time we have hurt our deepest selves. Our own soul is damaged by our meanness.

I grabbed a piece of chalk and wrote that one up on the kitchen blackboard for all of us to see and ponder.

The kids weren't too sure...
"What does nourished mean, mum?"
"You know, like "fed". Your soul gets fed when you do kind things for other people..."
"I don't get it."
"Well, I mean, when you are kind it doesn't just do someone else good, it does YOU good too..."
"Yeah, nah, don't get it..."

"Mum, what is that, 'your soul is nooshed when you're a kid'? What is nooshed?"
"Nourished, not nooshed. It means "fed". Like made stronger when you're KIND (not a kid). You soul gets stronger and healthier. Like when you eat veggies, they are good for your body...??? Kindness is like veggies for your soul???"
"Ohhhh, um, yeah... nah... huh...?"

?!?!?!

Gee I thought it was obvious, and such a good nuggets of parenting wisdom.
Ahhh well. We'll keep trying to reinforce the importance of kindness.
Cos it's good for everybody's soul.

Truisms (for my almost-45th birthday)

This week is going to be mad, by which I mean CRAY-ZEE. It's my birthday on Wednesday (woop??) but my glorious 45th anniversaire is likely to be overshadowed/swallowed up in the last-minute party prep for Dash's 12th birthday Hunger Games party on Saturday.

And since I JUST KNOW I'm going to have NO TIME to write myself a reflective, soul-searching, what-have-I-done-with-my-life happy birthday post, I thought I'd steal a few moments today to share with you the sayings I (try to) live by.

These are the truisms of my heart. You'll notice kindness features rather a lot - Kindness is VERY important to me. I don't always manage to live up to my ideals (who DOES, right?) but I AIM to live by them.  Because... if you aim at nothing you'll hit it every time (yet another true saying I just didn't have time to make a pretty picture for).

So Happy Middle-of-my-life Halfway-to-ninety Birthday to me. Forty Five??!! Who knew I could be so old and yet still feel like I'm just starting out?

Here are my favourite sayings to live by...

FAVOURITE SAYINGS WITH MY OWN PICTURES....

THEN I RAN OUT OF TIME SO I BORROWED THESE FROM PINTEREST because they are SO ME:

  

Which saying is your favourite from this bunch? Do you have sayings that you live by?

He's Riding His Bike to Build an Orphanage

My Rory husband is currently training to ride his bike 180km from Auckland to the Coromandel, to raise money to build a home for orphans in Manila.

Just this morning he rode 103km, a practise ride before breakfast. I don't know how he does it, out in all weathers. Wind and rain. Biking for hours.

[Rory is training hard - just today he rode 103km on a training ride]

I'm doing my bit to get behind him, by helping spread the word - hence this blog post, and the fundraising page on Give-a-little I have set up for him.

He has a goal of $5000, of which he currently has raised around $1300.
But wait there's more.

He has decided to put his own money where his mouth is as well, and is pledging to match every donation dollar-for-dollar up to his goal amount. Meaning that if we can get the $5000, we'll actually be handing over $10,000.
Meaning that if you give $20 from your pocket, the orphanage build will receive $40.

Rory is doing his cycle in less than two weeks, setting out on his bike, risking his rear end, to ride all the way to the Coromandel from our home. 180km. Can you imagine riding a bike that far? (Can you imagine how much your butt would hurt afterwards?)

[The furthest Rory has ever ridden is 160km, around Lake Taupo]

Then on the 3rd of November Rory is heading off to Manila with a team of builders to actually physically help build the orphanage. We'll miss our wedding anniversary, he'll miss Miss Fab's national cheerleading comps.

But these are teensy sacrifices to make.
As our daughter said when her daddy told her he'd miss her competition, "Dad, it's fine. I mean, if you were missing it just because you were working or busy I'd be mad, but you're going to help little kids who don't have a family so, nup, don't say another word. I don't mind."

[Photos by Meg Cowan]

One day we want to take the kids on one of those trips. Show them how the rest of the world lives; kids don't have what they (we) take so for granted. Help their hearts crack wide open.



In the meantime their dad is setting them a great example, pushing himself physically and mentally to help make a difference.

Here's a video of the work that is already being done by The Children's Garden in Manila, the group that Rory is helping fundraise for. They will be able to do so much more when they have a real home for the children they are helping. This is the video Rory watched which moved him to tears, and motivated him to get involved personally....

 

It would be so awesome, after reading this and watching the video, if you could give a little. Help spur Rory on his epic ride. Help get the little orphan kids a home.

Thanks, my dear readers. You rock.

Support Rory's Orphanage Cycle

Easter, Me and Mine

I love chocolate as much as the next girl, but that's not why I love Easter. Cute little bunnies and hunting for eggs don't really do that much for me, though I'm not opposed to either. Hot Cross Buns...? Mmmmm, even better than the chocolate in my book, but that's still not what makes this time of year special for me.

Easter is the most significant date in the Christian calendar. It's more of a big deal than Christmas, more meaningful, more essential to my faith.
Without Easter, Christianity wouldn't exist. I certainly wouldn't be sitting here on a Saturday typing this, feeling compelled to write something that expresses the depth of my feeling about the true meaning behind this holiday.

I was flicking through the TV Guide searching for something - anything - that the programmers might have done as a nod of respect to Good Friday or Resurrection Sunday. I found Enchanted, The Wizard of Oz, Romy & Michelle's High School Reunion and Hop. At least Hop is in keeping with the chocolatey aspects of Easter, but it truly bothered me that there was not one single programme relating to the true meaning: Jesus' crucifixion and resurrection.

Easter gives us all a holiday. Couldn't the powers-that-be have at least buried the Passion of the Christ  (or Jesus of Nazareth) after midnight somewhere? Just a nod to the guy who bled and died so we could have a long weekend?

[Nan and Grandad joined us for our Easter Dinner; we were kind and didn't make anyone dress up this year]

It really can be hard sometimes in such a secular world to keep the traditions and meaning alive not just for yourself and your own faith, but to pass them on to your children.
When everything is all about eggs and bunnies, and Jesus doesn't get a mention anywhere, you have to be pretty deliberate or the meaning will start to erode right in your own back yard.

My early schooling was at Catholic School, so the meaning of Easter was front and centre for weeks leading up to it. There was Ash Wednesday and giving things up for Lent; there were masses and Easter cards (with crosses, not bunnies). I was just a little girl but I counted down sleeps imagining what Jesus was going through "this time one-thousand-nine-hundred-and-seventy-eight years ago".
It was so real to me; his sacrifice and his suffering made a huge impression.
(Hats off to the Catholics for being so awesome at keeping beautiful traditions - something I think us "Happy Clappies" can learn a lot from).

On Easter Thursday night I was right there with Peter as he stood around the fire in the courtyard, wanting to stay true to Jesus but scared what might happen if he admitted to following him. I knew I would have denied him too; I understand the pain he felt when Jesus looked at him when the cock crowed.
Good Friday night I felt hollow and empty as I imagined what Mary Magdalene felt when she saw Jesus laid in the tomb; I imagined her tears on Sunday morning when she thought someone had stolen his body and her unbelievable joy when the man she thought was the gardener turned out to be Jesus, resurrected, who cared enough about her to wipe her tears away.

Now as an adult I have more understanding of what Jesus went through, both physically, emotionally, spiritually. It moves me deeply that He went through all that for us; that He loved us enough to stay hanging on that Cross (when he could have called the angels to get him down), in the hope that we would choose Him, and be reconciled to God through Him.

Faith can't be put upon anyone. I can't make my children into Christians, I can't force them to choose Christ. I can only hope that they find a faith of their own, that Jesus becomes real to them, that his love and sacrifice makes an impression on them as it did for me.

What I can do is share what it means to me. I can tell them the stories and pass on the insights. The rest is between them and God.

So each Easter, amidst plenty of eye-rolling we plan an Easter dinner. There is not a bunny or a chocolate egg in sight (though those do show up Sunday). We have candles, we eat spiced lamb, pita bread, hummus and olives. We drink red wine (or grape juice).

By the time we sit down to our Easter feast there is no more eye rolling. They are into it after all. We tell the story around the table. The kids ask questions and share what they know. We take a moment, pause, and focus on Jesus.

We do this in remembrance of Him. His body, broken for us; His blood, shed for us.
We ponder the curtain in the Temple that tore from top to bottom when He died, to symbolise that the way was now open between God and humanity.

It's worth celebrating, worth remembering and worth paying tribute to.

Happy Easter everyone ... I hope you can take a moment to think about the reason for the season while you munch your chocolate eggs.
xx

...............................

We started doing Easter dinners back in 2009 when the kids were really little.
The first year Mr G and I dressed up as "Peter" and "Mary" and time travelled from 30AD to tell the story of what happened. Other years we've had friends over, dressed up in sheets and towels, eaten delicious food.
Here is our collection of Easter Dinners through the years...

• Guess Who's Coming to Dinner (Easter 2009)
• Our Last Supper (Easter 2010)
• Dinnertime in 30AD (with recipes, 2012)
• Loving Easter

Springtime, Halloween and a Lemonade Stand

Every October for the last five years, we've racked our brains about our response to Halloween.
For some of you I know this might sound weird. It's lollies and dressing up, what's the problem, lady? you might be saying.
Yeah, OK. I know it's huge in the Northern Hemisphere, especially in the USA, but down here in lil ole New Zealand, Halloween is relatively new on the scene.
I mean, we always knew October 31st was Trick or Treat night, but nobody actually did it. At least, not until really really recently.

Of course there is also the old Christian "Halloween is about Evil" thing we had to contend with. Do we let our daughter go to her friend's Halloween-themed birthday party? Do we allow the kids to attend our school's Halloween disco? If we do are we compromising? (Tacitly celebrating dark things that go completely against everything we believe in?)

Then there is the nonsensical silliness of the actual season. We are in SPRING down here, for gosh sakes! It's not the end of summer, it's not the death of the season, or Fall. You can't buy pumpkins in the shops if you tried (because they're out of season)!

[We'd planned to be at the gate but the drizzle saw us moving our operation onto the porch]

For as long as we could we distracted our kids with a happier brighter alternative - a Bright Light Party, with fireworks and lolly scramble, friends and fun. It's an institution round here.
But for the past couple of years this has no longer been enough.
These days, it would seem EVERYBODY is doing Trick or Treat.
Like, if we don't let our children go they will be shamed and embarrassed in front of their whole class, the entire school. They will be the only kids in the WORLD not doing it. We will be the meanest parents in the world.

Last year it all blew up in our faces, all this "sticking to our principles and trying to find an alternative".
We were resisting Trick or Treating ("Knocking on strangers doors and begging for sweets? It could be dangerous as well as bad for your teeth!") and offered them a trip out for icecream instead. All hell broke loose (quite in keeping with Halloween, now I come to think of it). We were denounced as the meanest parents in the world with floods of tears and shouts of rage.

This year we decided to rethink our response.
We'd seen all the Trick-or-Treaters out on the streets waving happily to each other. We'd seen for ourselves just how big this thing has become; it's become a community thing now, like it or not. Whether it's an American thing or not. Whether it's in the wrong season or not. And we were in danger of casting ourselves in the role of the Grinch.

We felt uncomfortable buying into it wholeheartedly, to be honest. It felt just a little bit like "caving" and we didn't want to send the message that :if everybody's doing it it's OK." (that could come back to haunt us later on, aye?)

[My number one helper, Scrag a.k.a the Bat-Lizard]

We came up with a simple plan. Meet our neighbours where they're at and serve them lemonade and lollies. Instead of begging for sweets from strangers, we'll offer greetings and goodies to the people we live alongside of. We'll be gracious hosts and generous givers. Grinch no more.
Rather than decorate spooky, we'll decorate with colour and light, as befits Spring - the season we're in.

And we relented and let the Big Boy go trick or treating with his friends, and the Girl go to the Halloween Birthday Party. Condition? Not dressing up ugly or scary.

The big kids were still worried we'd embarrass them.

Dash: "Mum when people come around to our house you're not going to say anything weird are you? Cos that would be embarrassing."
Me: "Weird? Like what? like God bless you and we don't believe in Halloween but go in peace??? Seriously? Do you think we're that fruity?"
Dash: "Well it would be embarrassing, mum!"
Miss Fab: "Yeah! We'd be so embarrassed!"
Me: "But you guys wouldn't even BE there?! How could that be embarrassing?"
Them: "Cos our friends would come to school and go, your parents are weird!"

Ha. They have such confidence in our ability to shame them. As if I would say that?!
As it turned out, my big kids had nothing to fear.
As the hordes of zombies, ghouls and ghosts approached our lemonade stand, I simply said, "Hi! Are you having a good night?"
And they said, "Yeah!" and "This is cool!" and "Can I have some  lemonade please?"
To which I replied, "Of course you can, luv. And here's some lollies too. Here ya go! Have a good night!"

See? not embarrassing at all.

(And I think we've finally hit upon a nice fine line a.k.a. the Middle Ground. Connecting with our community, serving them in our own small way without buying into the hype or the stuff we don't like about it, all without alienating our kids and making them resent us and our faith forever. Phew.)

OTHER STUFF YOU MIGHT WANT TO CHECK OUT:

• Our Bright Light Party (a Halloween Alternative)
• How to Build a Rustic Lemonade Stand
• How to Make Awesome Jar Lanterns

Gratitude & Glory

You know how someone says something to you sometimes and it gets you thinking? Makes you search your soul, ask yourself hard questions?

Last night I received a comment from a long-time friend on the post I wrote about "Taking the Long Way Round". In case you missed it the post was sharing my new-found understanding about my recent "dyslexia" diagnosis, and here's what my friend had to say...

..."when I think of you, I think of how blessed you are, not about all the things you think of when you think of you! In fact, I often struggle with feeling jealous of your amazing creativity, your ideas in parenting and of how God has blessed you with a lovely lovely home, incredible opportunities and success in the blogging world and in your writing as well as in your travel opportunities. In fact, I have to laugh sometimes, every time I think of something I would like to do one day, there you are the next week blogging that you've just done it! God has certainly blessed you amazingly, I don't think you realize just how much!"

Jeepers. All of a sudden I started thinking, what if I come off as a show-off on here? (Do I?) I really am blessed in so many ways... do I actually give enough credit where credit's due? Am I expressing gratitude and "giving glory" to the one that deserves it the most? i.e. God. the Big Guy. The Man Upstairs.

Every single grateful post i have ever written has actually been aimed at Him, really. I might not have actually said it, but if I am GRATEFUL, I must be grateful TO SOMEONE. That Someone is the Person whose grace has literally carried me, at times when I could not face the world. The Person who is the source of all my blessings and Who deserves all the credit, all the glory.

So just in case I wasn't clear enough, today's Grateful Post is dedicated to God, to whom I am literally Eternally Grateful.

Here are just some of the things I am grateful to Him for...


I'm Grateful for the material blessings in my life. I grew up in a household where we were never able to get out of overdraft. Hand-me-downs and making do was the name of the game. In my working life I was employed by a number of not-for-profit organisations, where you apply for grants to cover your salary and do cleaning to make up the shortfall and pay the rent (on your tiny box-like room). I know what it's like to go without, which only makes me appreciate my material blessings more...

...Like being in the position I am work-wise, with hubby's income being enough. God knew that I was in a very broken place and he provided a safe secure way for me to heal. I didn't have to rush back to the pressure of working before I was ready. Even now I can go at my own pace and build up my little businesses at a level I can cope with. I am constantly in awe of this amazing blessing and how God has protected and provided for me.

Grateful for "hearts desires fulfilled" i.e. TRAVEL. We didn't travel as a family when I was growing up, but the travel bug bit me at age 16 when my aunty & uncle paid for me to go to Canada. "To Travel and See the World" was one of those secret desires I had. So what happens? I marry someone from the UK who grew up hopping across the Channel to Europe. Now his job provides opportunities for us to travel as a family and just the two of us, more often than I would have ever dreamed. I am so grateful.

Grateful for my own Home - and a beautiful one at that. I won't bore you with my back-story (constant moving, rented homes, a whole page in my aunty's phone book to allow for all my changes of address). Suffice it to say that when I walked up the driveway of this house I fell in love and have not fallen out of love yet. I am incredibly grateful for the timing and provision which made owning this house in this neighbourhood possible. A series of divine setups. A Miracle. I am grateful every day, to Him, for my Home.

Incredibly Grateful for my counsellor. We found her through a series of events, when I hit rock bottom after more than 10 years battling depression. She is the most amazing wise, skilled counsellor who has helped save our marriage, helped me come off medication and has gotten to the root of the issues. PLUS she "just happens" to be an expert on dyslexia. If that's not divine provision, I don't know what is. Oh I am so very grateful. To Him.

I am grateful for my husband and family. I waited such a long time to meet my hubby - at least it seemed long. And lonely. I was the last of my sisters to be married (me, the eldest, a 30 year old virgin). But it was worth the wait. My mum and dad used to pray I'd meet someone great: "Even if you have to bring him from half way round the world God..." And He did. A series of near misses brought us together, at just the right time. Answers to many many prayers. I am still grateful every day.

I am just grateful that I am still here, living blessed, still connected with my Creator, when it would have been easy at many times to give up on my faith. His practical grace and tangible provision combined with a sense of his never-leaving-me Presence has held me, when I couldn't move forward on my own. His beyond-understanding Peace has kept me. I'm grateful for His Presence, His Love and His beautiful grace.

Once upon a time I was the epitomy of Martha. I thought that if I worked hard, helping people in God's name, I would get into His good books and He would bless me. But the funny thing was that when I was at my weakest, when I was broken and could longer serve Him or "do" anything - that's when the kindness of God took me by surprise.

"But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair;  persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed."  (from The Bible, 2 Corinthians 4: 7-9)

Thank You God for everything. The glory for all of it goes to You.
I'm the broken vessel, and you are the light within. I hope that it shines through enough that others can glimpse You through my cracks....

.................

P.S. I know not all my readers share my belief/faith and may consider this post to be further evidence of a deranged mind... all I can say is, "Don't knock it til you've tried it." (there's NOTHING like the Peace that comes from His tangible presence, and I can't explain it away, even on my darkest days).