Monday, 13 April 2015

Truth will prevail

When dark days come the accompaniment has to be doubt. 

Because if all that I believe about God is true then how is it that I have been left here. 

I wonder if I've missed the point, if it's time to abandon church and go find something I want. I wonder if a nothingness would be better than His Holiness. 

And I cease praying. I cease consciously praying. Because when I do Its a vacuum of uninterrupted silence. 

When everything in me wants to turn around and walk away I end up down at the core of who I am. And there is where I find that seed of faith. 

So small I could have easily missed it. Somehow I realise that my struggle is not over whether God exists or not but how on earth He thinks I'm going to emerge alive. 

Because that seed of faith, whilst it may doubt every single thing that I have ever known to be true, it holds on to the truth that God is God and He is good. 

Therefore, even as I find myself remaining in bed, even as productivity and life and hope comes to a halt. I breathe in slow. And then I breathe out. 

And there I find the breath of God. Because while I am not soldiering forward: I have not ceased. While I am not feeling victorious: the victory is that I have not stopped. While I do not know what to wear: I get up, I shower, and I dress for battle. 

God does not stop being God. I do not stop being loved. Jesus does not lose His victory. 

I may be at the end of myself but, in His Holy Mystery, God meets me there and makes me whole.

He make all things new. He speaks truth. He is King.

It is not by my understanding. May His Kingdom come, may His will be done. 

May His victory be truth that I stand in.

I may be down but I refuse to be defeated. 

I choose life. I choose light. I choose truth. 

And hope. And peace. I choose love and freedom and joy. 

I choose Jesus. I choose God as King.

Because whilst these things remain whether I choose them or not this is what my breathing in and my breathing out, my sleeping and my waking up: my very being proclaims. 

We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves. We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed. Through suffering, our bodies continue to share in the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus may also be seen in our bodies. 2 Corinthians 4:7-10

Truth will prevail. It already has. 

Thursday, 19 March 2015


My faith is not something that I can simply stop and start, because He remains.

You see maybe in my head I waver.

The biggest tidal wave I have ever known hits me. Smack off my feet. And it is overwhelming as I start to drown. 

Unexpected, unimaginable. 

I'm flat out done with all of this. 

God this is not a battle I can fight. Not this time. Not this day.

You're just going to have to find some person else. 

That's what all of my insides cried. 

Suddenly you feel like you're being stretchered off of the scene. Friends feed you. They hold you up. They let you cry. 

But in all this rushing around. In all this relief effort I begin to wonder what on earth God thinks He is doing. 

Right at the bottom of who I am I know He has a bigger plan. But I'm telling you now God this is not what it was supposed to look like, and I think you messed up somewhere because it is entirely impossible for me to see where this is going.  

To catch a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel. 

and my heart breaks. 

This time, it's real and it's proper and there's nothing I can do to stop it. 

I know my mood by whether I can feel my eyes glinting. They always give me away. The deepest parts of how I am feeling reveal themselves on the surface. And sometimes it's the only way I myself can tell. 

And now I just feel all the light go. This lack of energy cannot be overcome by sleeping earlier and longer. This time it's my very being: my very life blood. 

Say hello. This is me. At the end of myself. 


But all my heart tells me of is threads of memories about Ann Voskamp's ladders: the ones where in an upside down Kingdom the only way up is down. 

And I cannot for the life of me remember the whys and the whats, the ins and the outs of all Ann says. But I remember enough. 

I remember that it's at the bottom of myself that He can best reveal Himself.

And so, somehow, I cling on. 

And it's in this place of desperation. Of clinging on. That mustard seed of faith reveals itself and I begin to see the mountains move. 

God is good. 

Painfully, purely, redemptively. He is good. 

And He reigns. 

Truth shall prevail. 

Friday, 13 February 2015

here lies the miracle unfolding

I wonder if it has become an almost idealistic approach. Stepping out of the boat, taking the risk. You know, everyone talks about it but rare few mention the hard nitty gritty that it brings.

I am sure that in the long run I will see the bigger picture, I am sure one day I will be able to look back and understand this long haul, but here and now it sure as anything isn't like what you imagine.

Then again, what do you imagine? I don't know - but it sure wasn't this.

It's been not far off of 7 weeks, and with each day that ticks by I wonder where all this is really going. Because this treading into the unknown mostly just feels like the nowhere at all.

It's not like there's no light at the end of the tunnel - it's like there's no tunnel at all. And I have grown impatient. Informing God that this just cannot do and really He just has to do something about it all.

Give me some direction. Some purpose. A dream even?

And yet I come back to this word, thrive - it's like it sits just slightly above, in such a manner as to say it isn't within my attainability. I circle it, wondering as to how it can become something I see flowing from within me. How can I become one whom thrives? Especially when I am actually not even exactly certain as to what thriving really looks like.

But somehow it isn't this useless want for the future. Or this ridiculous hunt for something more.

Somehow it all IS about the nitty gritty. It is about the rolling up of the sleeves, and the getting down into the dirt. Somehow it is about taking a STAND when we are being told to sit, it is about rising when the night is still dark, it is a call to show up right where you are.

It is about recognising each and everything as the good and Holy work I am called to do. It is about not disqualifying or discounting or excusing myself. Somehow it is about becoming attentive to myself.

It is about learning to shut everything else down once in a while and sit with a blank screen and a blinking cursor...

 |  |

right until the words begin to fall again.

It is about waiting up and praying hard. Not out of worry but out of faith.

It is a call to serve, and serve fully. even when i hate it.

Even when I feel demeaned, and demoralised, disrespected and dishonoured. Even when I know it is a marvel for it to have been formed by these hands, but yet it goes unrecognised.

It is a call to serve amidst the backchat, the gossip - the lies told and the dreams unmet.

It is a call to hug, and hug tight, when you feel like all that strength has gone. It is about being the mum you are, even without the title. The producer, the director, the manager, the assistant. It is about filling the role and filling it whole - even without the recognition or the title.

It is a call to serve, and serve fully.

because I AM.

He is.


He is.

I can give myself permission to dread the future but only whilst that isn't destroying the Now.

I got up, and I left the tension. The tension of being pulled in two directions and not really having the choice. I left the tension of a manager incapable, to a manager nonexistent. I left a tension that left me unable to move from the exhaustion of hours that i couldn't count and breaks that just didn't seem to appear.

and I fell into the hands of a tension that rests solely on God. I pray.

He really does follow through. And I know there is not any ground to stand on when it comes to worrying, but feeling frustrated is a whole other board game and I sure can't figure the rules out myself.

You see I want a flash of lighting or a big booming voice - well atleast my frustrated head does. But my learning-to-lean heart is speaking something softer through, it is teaching me to step into and step back. Stepping into the water in of myself and stepping back in of my ideals and plans and agendas - allowing space for Him to reign.

We visited this big ol' house, Ellie and I. And her mum and dad. It was quite a trail following it around the curves and the beds. But somehow I ended up sitting and waiting at the top of the stairs whilst she stood and waited at the bottom. With about 10 floors in between.

And maybe that is what makes me worried - well not worried, not frustrated - I cannot seem to place the word, but anyhow that is what makes me scream. Because God, I really cannot stand the idea of me sitting waiting at the top of the stairs whilst you stand and wait at the bottom.

Sometimes I wonder about getting up and just going down there to find you. I really would love to abandon my post.

And yet in some sort of earth shaking miracle you stand with me there, and I keep waiting.

The storm seems to rage, often gaining momentum. But I pray that I will stand. I will be immovable. And I will thrive.

Because I AM.

and because I AM, I can.

here lies the miracle unfolding.