About Me

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New South Wales, Australia
I write to make people smile about the craziness of life with small people - because it IS crazy, no doubt. It is also wonderful.

Sunday, February 21, 2016

Two Minutes

So this morning, I'm panicking, figuratively speaking. I'm enrolled in university, three classes this trimester - and the workload is freaking me out. This week alone, I have five lectures. The amount and (difficulty) of reading I have to do boggles the mind. My domestic workload is, as ever, as challenging as one might expect given the size of my family. Trying to remain committed to health and wellbeing, and see to my mental health, my spiritual health - it's daunting.

So I was feeling frazzled when I rocked up to church (ON TIME!) this morning. Feeling overwhelmed, uncertain, and definitely not thinking about worship.

The message today was about Elijah, and the part about him journeying into the wilderness and parking his backside under a broom tree - it spoke to me. We had our own Elijah kind of morning last week. I dropped all the kids off and I just sat in my car in the driveway. I couldn't face the overwhelming nature of the mess awaiting my return. So I sat there, about 45 minutes, and just cried, talked things out, and eventually started falling asleep. At which point I thought, "This is dumb. I should just go and lay down" and I did.

Back to this morning. Just before communion, we had two minutes of silence, and I just mentally started dumping all this stuff onto the floor in front of God, and confessing my fear of not knowing how all this would happen. And then a very strange thing happened.

My eyes still closed, I saw/felt bright light shining on me from somewhere above me. As soon as I saw/felt the light, my fear dissolved, and in its place grew a sense of peace, and overwhelming joy. When the two minutes was over, I opened my eyes and the light in the room had not changed. But I had changed.

We had communion, and for perhaps the first time ever, I felt communion with God. I felt more of Him, and so much less of me. I felt the actual 'dying of self' that people talk about.

I can't explain what happened today. I am simply thankful that it did.

Love,
Sarah


Friday, January 1, 2016

Who I Am...

Another year gone. Wow.

I was reflecting on life, as people seem to do on New Year's Eve. It occurred to me that this move to a new place, while a good thing, wasn't quite the magic wand that I had expected it to be. There's a lesson to be learned there. My expectations are, 99% of the time, crazy-stupid-high. And in all my life, I don't know that I've ever been able to confidently define who I am which is where I need to start in order to know who I want to be. With that in mind, I've begun with the following list: 

I am a Jesus-loving, coffee-drinking, kitchen-ninja. I am a big-hearted, incredibly sensitive, creative being. I read books like other people breathe, I enjoy solitude, and I crave order and routine. I feel anxious when things are crazy. I have panic attacks sometimes. I have a wicked temper (working on that one!). I love doing laundry, but hate putting it away. I struggle with consistency...sometimes. I eat my feelings (God is really spoiling this one for me), and I've got a LOT of feelings. I get depressed sometimes. I cry - at everything. Sometimes a clarinet solo can set me off. I have a way with words. I speak FOOD as a primary love language, and if that's not a thing it so should be a thing. I dream big, and achieve small. I see beauty in small things. I have almost no social filter. I am funny as heck, and LOVE to make people laugh. 

All those aspects of me, and so many more, fit together to make a beautiful person made in God's own image. I'm pretty awesome, in fact - because God made me that way. 

So who I want to be is all that, unapologetically. Spell check doesn't like that word, but I'm a writer, so it's all good. To love all the parts of me, and accept them as part of who I am, while being refined into a better version of all those things. Particularly the temper thing, that needs a lot of work. To create, establish, and maintain personal boundaries, so that I don't come back to the version of me who actually thought that she wasn't deserving of happiness until everyone else was happy. Crazy, right? 

So that's it - no reservations, no goals. Just a desire to finally love and care for the amazing and wonderful person that is Sarah. 

Happy New Year with Abundant Love,

Sarah





Sunday, December 20, 2015

Put The Camera Down!!!

So the husband and I were able to get away for a 36-hour trip to Sydney. Without children, even. We went up the Sydney tower, which provides a 360°view of the city. It was breathtaking, and even more so because we went at sunset. It was a very busy place, with lots of families and tourists from many different nations. Sydney is like that. Everything is fast, busy, and frantic. Even folks who were on holidays were madly scrambling to take photos, seeing the stunning view through a lens instead of taking it all in. I like to take photos too, but I was surprised at how nobody was just looking- experiencing it. 

Its a good metaphor, I think, for the way we do Advent. We plan, we schedule, we scramble to get here, to be there. Do we ever sit down and experience the tingling anticipation of the Christ child, or is what we're really anticipating the next day of Advent? 

I said to my children Friday (Fried Day, in our house) "I love Jesus, but I hate Christmas."

I hate what it has become. It has become more items on an impossible to-do list. This last week alone - and I know that parents of school-aged children will know EXACTLY what I am saying here - I had two vegetable platters to shop for and prepare, Christmas raffle tickets, Two concerts, a Secret Santa gift to buy, teacher gifts to organise, and then somebody decided Thursday they wanted to give Christmas cards to their class (I had to decline this, and declare that Dec. 1st is the deadline for future projects of this nature), and "We have to wear Christmas clothes tomorrow and boring WHITE shirts isn't good enough!!". And so on. At no point, in all of this, did I feel able to contemplate the quiet and beautiful truth of a baby born to save us all. 

Why can't the anticipation of the coming Savior be just a part of normal, everyday life? Because we are waiting for His return, after all. Why does Advent have to be something we must do? Is there a manual somewhere which contains the Advent instructions? 
I want to put the camera down, and just...

Look.

Listen.

And wait.
 
XO, Sarah