It can get a little messy!

A long time ago I was a nursery school teacher. One of the things I remember being taught was that ‘helpful’ children are often the most disruptive. I had to get into the classroom to find out just how true that statement is! ‘Helpful’ children really desire to get involved in everything you are doing – but they lack the skill and finesse to do it well. Or, to do it as fast and neatly as you!

birthday Barbie cupcakes

Because I am realising this about myself, I bought Levi a box of ready-mix pink Barbie cupcakes for her birthday. Cake she gets to make with no other siblings involved, from start to finish. As you can see from the baking tray – it can get a little messy! And the serious look is actually pride!

Recently Quinn received a prophetic word. Part of the word spoke about how much Pappa loves how she lives her life, how He loves it when she plays, how He laughs when she gets paint on the floor! He laughs! Oh jeez!

The last time Quinn got paint on the floor I can tell you I was not laughing! (and the last time she got paint on the floor was the last time we painted – as in EVERY time we paint!!!!)

artist at work

I really love the IDEA of them learning and getting independent.  But the reality?

getting in touch with nature

I would like to kid myself and say that I dont know why mess is such an issue for me. The truth is, in order to live – and really, to live WELL, to live wildly – we make one mess after another! My kitchen goes from one disaster zone to another – and that is just meals for my family! Laundry – you want nice clothes? They start out so beautiful in the store, next thing they are a crumpled heap at the bottom of the wash basket, smelling rather … messy!

Perhaps it has a lot to do with control. (oh no …. she said the “C” word!)

mud splatter

So, I’ll keep trying to unfurl my grip on that “C” word … I’ll keep reminding myself that I can choose anger – or I can choose to laugh …  and I reckon I will schedule another little messy session with my Professional Mess Makers!

Finding quirky

 you think you know me

My younger daughter – Levi Sam – is quite a character! Most of the world sees her in one particular way. She presents herself as quite a serious soul, not too much expression generally.

But, as you can see from the photo, she has this delightful quirky, spunky side to her that we just love! my brother was out from London recently. He spent a few days with us and this little girl took a real shine to him. In those few short days, he got to see the ‘real’ Levi Sam! He got the pure, unadulterated version – so much so that she showed him this face and he was the one taking the photo!

I love that we can give this kind of gift to one another – that there are aspects to our characters that not everyone will see, but if you dig, you will find pure gold. This little soul is so full of fun and a little off the wall So much to unpack and a whole world of things going on inside that head. You really can count yourself as fortunate if the door is opened to you and you can walk around inside for a while!

still waters

May we all have the courage to allow people to walk around, discover our quirks, uncover our silly side, laugh at our jokes, dig up our gold.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I can only learn when I am willing to be taught.

There are a whole bunch of things to complain about in life. A long, detailed list can be drawn up of what’s wrong, missing, broken, out of place.

But I am loving the fact I get to choose – all the time – where my focus, my attention will be. I definitely don’t always choose wisely. There are times when I choose to sit in self-pity, linger down the passages of self-doubt and fear. But every now and then, I choose well

Right here, right now

This little girl serves as a constant – not always welcome – reminder to me:   this is the moment we are alive in, Mom, live in it! Fully occupy this space!

She does this so well she is loud and demanding and these traits are often seen as negative in our world. But she is showing me how these very traits get her some very precious attention in a very loud, busy family! She is so unashamed of her need.

Don’t you think that’s beautiful?

So much of the time I am second guessing my thoughts and my motives and she is just totally out there, giving herself fully to whatever moment or circumstance she finds herself in. Basically living a life where regrets are not possible, because there was nothing she missed, nothing she held back.

Beautiful!

Keep teaching me, even when I don’t want to learn. Just keep living life the way you do – because you are right!

This life is so rare and beautiful and so are YOU!

This life deserves your best, most beautiful self!

 

 

Just Write.

For a long time I suppose you could say that I have lived waiting for the big moment of Revelation. Or the big moment of Profound Change. Or just some Big Moment.

Ha!

I am learning, albeit slowly, that this life is full of moments, and a lot of the time they seem small and really insignificant. Read: Easy To Miss.

And so while I live with one eye permanently on the horizon, I seem to miss the little things in my world that require full attention in order to be seen. I think one of the biggest effects of living Waiting is that you never feel like you or what you have is right, right now. What you have to put on offer seems lacking.

I have had people telling me to write for a long time – but the truth is, my words have always sounded hollow to me. So, I wrote this – mostly to remind myself, convince myself, tell myself: This is my realest life. Right Here, Right Now. And I have this one precious moment to grab it and wring every precious drop of joy and peace and pain and sorrow and high and low out of it. Its funny how pain and pleasure both have the capacity to show you how very alive you are. May we all fear living a numb, dead life more than fearing the pain this life holds.

Yes – it is chaotic and loud and noisy. But write, write anyway.

When your head is full and there are too many thoughts pushing and vying and demanding. Write. Write anyway.

When it all seems jumbled and messy. When it is not all clean cut, ordered, when the sense hasn’t been made yet. Write. Write anyway.

Open the book! The page begs for your ink. Write. Write anyway.

When you feel spent, empty, completely lacking in words. Write. Write anyway.

When the words are not your own. When another has spoken your pain, your heart, Write. Write anyway.

So – I find myself staring at a big shiny white screen, cursor blinking demandingly at me …. Writing anyway!

I see you

Why do we think we need to have it all together before we put it on display?

How come are we not celebrating the fact that we are works IN progress,

people IN process?

We put so much effort into our masks of perfection that we no longer applaud our mess,

our reality, our being incomplete.

So I wrote a little something encouraging us to be people who seek out one another’s reality, and the beauty of our mess,

the gift your are RIGHT NOW.

It takes courage to unearth masks. Much of the time people dont know what to do with the exposing, and oftentimes are left just feeling exposed and raw,

instead of uncovered and appreciated.

But there is a delightful discovery for you if you are willing to risk it. Do you dare?

Unlocking

Sometimes a nail file, sometimes a crowbar,

Whatever it takes to get in there, underneath it all.

Peel off the perfection, strip off the masks:

Reveal, expose – the truth, the need.

Not always pretty, but full of fire, full of passion.

Not always simple, but full of testimony, journey.

The rhythms, the melodies, the songs lie here.

The beauty of a life laid bare.

So put on courage, put on love,

Put on gloves and handle with care.

Be amazed, pause to wonder

At the beauty of a life laid bare.

Do Be Do Be Doo Bee Doo

Been hearing a whole lot of talk about Heaven and Hell, Once Saved Always Saved, Calvanism … all those supposedly beeeg theological ideas and theories. A lot of the talk becomes arguments, accusations, judgement even.

And been thinking a lot about it all.

So, this is what I KNOW.

I know that I am not going to be the One sitting in the Judgement Seat one day.

I know that I am loved, deeply loved.

I know that we are all loved, deeply loved.

I know that I have been made in the image of my Maker – as we have all been.

So God created man in His own image, in the image and likeness of God He created him; male and female He created them. Gen 1: 27

I know that one day everything, every little detail, will be gloriously revealed! All those things in darkness, mystery, shrouded in secrecy, hidden — they will be put on display — for all to see.

And I know that I have today — no promises about tomorrow, no guarantees.

So — what am I saying? I guess I am wondering just how much of all that talk and argue and debate translates into what you Do and who you Be each day.

Today.

Because living as if you know Him, glorious marvellous HIM … well, surely that should change your today … and then who cares about your “One Day” ?

Living free and expansive and in grace-filled rhythms … well, I am not trying to figure out what my Eternal Destination Ticket says. I already know.

You see, I dont need to wait for Heaven to get to know this glorious, marvellous HIM! He offers more. He PROMISES more!

Life, abundant Life!

I think the more important question is about my today:

What am I finding for my hands to do?

And who am I BEING?

What Are You Looking At?

Vision.

Do you have one?

Do you have this grand view of you, your life, your dreams, your plans? Where are you going? And what are you doing about that?

The big picture always gets broken down into teeny tiny pixels of one day — TODAY!

So, what’s mine?

Today is full of small kids, nappies, meal plans and grocery shopping. Today is full of noise and desperate wishes to go to sleep while my kids have desperate wishes to stay awake. Today is full of boxes and packing and unpacking – we are moving house! Today is full.

Its so full I can lose sight of the fact that I have a tomorrow that wont look the same.

I need to put some glasses on – big ones! Glasses that will help me get a great big vision for me, for my future.

If I tell myself that I am just a woman, just a mom, just a housewife, just a … well, that is just what I will be.

But because of who is in me, because of what He has done in me, because of how expansive He is, wow – my todays and all my tomorrow’s just took on a whole other dimension!

So, I can’t look at me – its so small, its so puny and insignificant. And I have dreams to change the way this world looks, plans to shape and mould a different planet! No way I am going to get that even half right …

But Him in me?

Whoo boy!

Watch out world!

Make some noise!

You can walk through life feeling like everyday couldn’t be more predictable than the last …

and then something happens and its like setting a long row of dominoes into play.

And what can you do? Freak out? Try grab a few of the pieces and slow the whole thing down?

Or do you get to stand back in awe – seek out the beauty, find the joy?

U2 has a song where one line reads:

Shout for joy, if you get the chance.

And I have been thinking about how many chances I get on a daily basis.

But what am I shouting about? Its so crazy, but my shouting is more about keeping quiet, keeping tidy, making things neat, orderly.

Can everyone and everything just stay in its rightful place already?!

Sad, small life living that way!

Shout for joy, if you get the chance.

Some of my chances have been: four gorgeous kids – full of noise and mess and mud — and life!  One out of this world, do-I-truly-deserve-you hubby! My kids are the best at reminding me to dance — demanding, shouting, requesting, needing me to dance. “Mooki, mom” says my youngest — ‘music’ put it on mom, loud and happy and lets move the table out of the way, and lets dance, and when we just cant move right and get too happy for the joy of it all, then lets just JUMP!

Shout for joy, if you get the chance.

I get so many chances.

Hear me shout! Hear me roar! Hear me!

Hungry … Starving … Ravenous

I have been a little curious about this rather strange need I have to find a perfect human. You know, that search to find somebody that is getting this life all right. Doing and saying and being right, perfect, all together. It is a rather strange hope.

You see, I have reconciled the fact that I fail. No brownie points for realising this mom of four fails on a daily … make that hourly, basis.

But I seem to think some woman out there has nailed it.

I fail and you fail and that makes us human. But why is that not beautiful?
Why is that so ugly? My failures have me reaching for a few more fig-leaves, frantically covering up my shame.

It appears I am still hiding.

How do I stop being the woman dashing behind the bushes, and become the woman who glories in her nakedness – because that keeps her needy, desperate?

No point in denying it – I am needy. I am desperate. I am in great need of washing, of cleansing, of healing, of redemption, of restoration, of wholeness.

People would say that this admission makes me weak.

The truth is, I am.

I am a hungry, empty vessel that needs constant filling, fueling, feeding.

The greater truth is there is bread that fills, that fuels, that feeds.

So this woman is going to try to stop reaching for fig leaves, and instead, reach for a Word to eat.

Scaredy cat

Just lately I’ve been living through a few things that have been showing me – I give fear a whole bunch of room to walk around in my head and heart. It’s like I say: ‘Come on in fear, you just make yourself right at home. Find the most comfortable seat in the house and stay awhile.’

Crazy!

Fears never make you feel good enough or strong enough. When you use them in your measuring stick, you always come up short, lacking.

I’ve read that perfect love drives out fear. So clearly – I’m not in love! And funny how I have all these grand, noble intentions of impacting the whole world when I’m really ignoring those real close people … my husband, my kids, friends. How much am I loving myself and them? How much fear lives in those relationships?

Fear has to do with punishment.

So am I brave enough to ask the really tough question?

Who is afraid of me?

Ouch.

Who feels like loving me is sometimes a little confused with punishment? Walking away from me wounded rather than whole?

Can I believe, really know in my very core, that I have been loved with an everlasting love, one that never fails, never ends? Can I allow the truth of that love to overtake me? overwhelm me? can I be wrapped in the eiderdown wrap of true love, and so – because of that majestic love – be free? Truly free? free to be loved, and even, dare I say it? free to be hurt?

Can I really be hurt, wounded like that by you, if I believe I am loved like that?

Because I am.

And so are you.

Paint a little Grace graffiti

I was thinking how nice it would be to get a Hallmark card in the mail on a daily basis. One of those real heartfelt cards that tells you how special you are and how great you are at everything you do.

And your response to that thought just shows you how inept we are at encouraging one another. Recognising the Artist at work in you sometimes makes us think He is not at work in me. Like He can only paint on one canvas at a time. So, with fear motivating every action, we hold on tightly to our praise of one another, we fiercely guard anyone seeing our canvas – in case there really is nothing happening on there. We are so afraid that we have nothing good to share, nothing good to give. We forget that the Artist just cannot help Himself, He is always at work!

What if we got a little naked? What if we got a little undaunted by exposing the artwork in me? What if I let you see what the Artist has painted in me?

An art teacher friend of mine has told me that the dark colours in a picture only help you appreciate the light.

So this, I think, is how we lay down our ideas of perfection, our reaching for the impossible. We embrace our flaws, our weakness, our failure, because all those things highlight the beauty of what He has painted, the shaping of clay, the moulding of me that He has done.

And so, my vulnerable beauty is all the more sacred and precious, because it is being worked into my very fibre, the very essence of me. And I let you see. Because I recognise that you are also on the easel, colours being blended, shaded into you.

Fists uncurled, now tightly clutching a paint brush, I push my fears aside and smear Grace on me, Grace on you …

Freedom! Freedom! Perfection abandoned, uniqueness embraced.

Naked and running around in Cyber Space!

okay, I finally made the leap, jumping right off into – well, who knows?! The future is one big question mark, so I am going to try not think about that and just Be. Here. Now.

I am on a search, a constant, continuous search – I am searching out Grace Ocean. That wonderful place, where I get to swim in Grace. I have discovered it is a place that shifts and moves, so I need to shift and move, keep in step, stay in touch. In short – Be. Here. Now.

This is my heart, my journey, in words.