In your/Your hands

I learnt a lot from a small blonde 3-year old boy this week.

He simply met met…admitted me into his room…allowed me to play with his toys…and totally turned my world upside down in the process.

I ask the Lord how I move forward in trusting for a Life-partner…a career…my future.

And what does He show me?

Blue-eyed-boy walking up to me and placing one of his toys into my hands…without fear…without holding back…with belief.

Belief that I will fix what has been broken.

Belief that I will help him build the bridge he is busy with.

Belief that I will not let it get lost…or broken…or forgotten.

And so…this is what God is inviting me to:

Come dear child and allow me to show you that I can be trusted with whatever you place into My (CAPABLE!!!) hands.

I will not forget…or destroy…or let go.

I will improve…and plan…and dream…and with unsurpassable power partner with you in bringing this thing to the best of its ability.

Together…we will build.

So I’m letting go…I’m placing this into Your hands…and believing.

I’m trying this.

Psalm 56

In God have I put my trust…What can man do unto me?

Trust in their eyes

A small boy jumps on a trampoline. He invites you to join him…you realise you are totally unfit and jumping up and down should become a more regular routine in order to not feel like this…exhausted…wheezing…light-headed…

BUT OH SO GLORIOUSLY HAPPY!

The honour of being invited by a 3-year old onto his sacred play area…the beautiful honour of him WANTING you to share his space with him.  Is there anything more worth attaining…more satisfying…more pure?!

What have I done to deserve this?

Children aren’t easily deceived…I believe they know…see right through us.  I can not pretend and then ingratiate myself to a small child…they are too smart…too wise…too in touch with the beauty of this world, for us to be able to lie to them with the darkness that sets upon our souls along the years.

Am I being too dark?

Not my intention…

But in order to see the light side, we sometimes have to admit the dark side.

If the most special and content and light moment of my week has been the blonde 3-year old who out of nowhere threw his arms around my neck…in TRUST!!!…then I will question the rest of my week with honesty in order to look for more ways of attaining this contentment at a more regular basis.

NO…I am not planning a career of becoming a pre-school teacher.

But I am adjusting my priorities.  What are the beauties of life?

Creating the ring of trust that that boy entrusted me with…for others.

Sharing time and meals with people who are as honest as children…not those out for power and manipulation.

Praying for individuals to experience a release of pain and sorrow to return (at least in part) to a place where less things of their past haunt them.

So many precious things found in the presence of a blonde-haired boy.

Thank you little one

I will be in search for more of that

Matt 19

forbid them not…for to such belongeth the kingdom of heaven

Porcelain or plastic

Its all about how we see ourselves…that’s how we ascertain what we (think we) can accomplish…or survive.

A beautiful white vase standing on a table…someone walks by…purely by accident the table is bumped and the vase topples over.

Someone’s intention? No

Vase broken? YES

In my head…I was this vase.  Through life and people’s actions and choices, I always thought I would be pushed over…and break. It is why I live with fear.  It is why I miss (missed) out on life.

Will I get the answer wrong of the maths equation in front of everyone in class and never be able to show my face again at school?

Will I blunder in putting the presentation together and never be able to work again?

Will I be flustered when asked something in a meeting and die of embarassment of conflict?

Will I be lost-never-to-fully-function-again if a relationship doesn’t work out?

In all of the above…I have learnt so far…that the answer is NO.

The vase is never irreparably damaged…

No, sorry, I got that wrong again.

Its not that the vase doesn’t break…it is that I’ve discovered that I am not a ceramic vase.

Made of some other substance that God has woven into my being, I am able to bounce back, think, survive, talk, function…HANDLE the situations that come my way.

Plastic (not as romantic or pretty hey…)

Iron (bit harsh for a girl I guess)

Can we settle on Copper then? Yes

Fulfilling the same Purpose as Ceramics, a Copper Vase will still hold your flowers…but she certainly looks and survives differently.  She may get a dent…a scratch…but destroyed beyond repair?  No.

That was the other thing…the idea of fulfilling a purpose.  In seeing myself as so breakable, there were so many things I never even tried for fear of being bumped over…and there…I lost out on so many experiences.

But put this copper vase on any mantle piece or table now, cause she wants the view and its okay if something unplanned happens (by life’s accident or purpose)

This is not being cocky…this is not being naive about how harsh life can be.

This is just realising that I was crafted in a stronger fashion than I once thought and in realising this, some fears disappear…resulting in so much more being attempted…

As His ambassadors, so much can be done…if I put myself out there to try.  I won’t break…He made me this way…and He made me well. (and let’s not even go into the fact that He is always present…always helping…always supplying His power, nevermind my own…story for another day)

Luke 10

I have given you authority…over the power of the enemy…nothing shall hurt you

I will honor you on a wall

Life is the building of a house.

The foundation of my parents’ involvement

The walls of the choices I make and the values I choose to follow.

The roof of the people I allow near me…to guard me

The door of my God who I want as the main attraction in my life.

And then there are the decorations.  Everything inside.

What furnishings do people see when I am near them? Are they comfortable on the chair I choose to converse with them?  Do they like the food of thought I prepare on a plate? Do they stub their toe against a rock on my lawn or can they relax on the grass which allows them to just be?  Do I want them to be comfortable? Or am I the type of person who wants to bring a challenge all the time?  No right or wrong…just my choice of what I want to leave in theit minds…

But I’m getting to a very particular decoration.  The paintings against my wall.  My stories…my experiences.

Someone recently left my life.  It was sad…yes, I was heartbroken…because the beauty of what was, was beyond precious to behold and difficult to let go of.  But “move-on” I had to…because he wasn’t coming back and I had to look after myself.

I could have taken an easy route…: put the face of this one I loved on the floor of my house and paint over it with a new face…as if it never was.  Start from a corner and destroy the colors and contours of this great being.

But I didn’t want to.  That would have been worse in the long run.  Why? Because the time he spent in my building was precious…why forget it?  He invested in my life? Why not acknowledge it? It was beautiful while it lasted, so why destroy it?

So I did this:

On a canvas I will put your face

the life you lived with me for short

And honored on a wall inside me

your picture will now resort

I will paint over no face, I will deny no hand in my life.  Value there came with every person who crossed my doorway…and in honoring that…I live with no regret.

And every person after him who enters through my door…I will tell the story with love and appreciation…and my the painting bless and inspire them…as it will always bless me.

Rom 8

…to them that love God all things work together for good…

Dance of life

It’s a wedding…one of the various I am to attend before my own big day arrives…whenever that will be.

One of the high-lights always – for my band of friends anyway – is the dancing: the opening of the dance floor, the fun and laughter as everyone joins in.  And then I start to wonder: what would my day be like when this time arrives.  I do not come from a dancing-kind-of-family.  Not that I mind: I like dancing, but I’m not an addict…or is it that I simply haven’t discovered the magic of it?

Here’s the thing: My friends consist of various couples who, when looked at as individuals are definitely not dancers.  Some I have known before they found their life-partners and then it always surprises me to find them on the dancefloor doing funky steps and quite at ease with themselves, where previously they would never have dreamt of it.

And then the beautiful picture emerges: so many of my friends found their dance-gurus in their partners.  Nerdy boys who are shy in so many respects, bloomed into self-assured dancers, learning steps for the sake of their wives, and discovering the joy of it for themselves.  Shy girls who  wouldn’t think of doing anything in front of a crowd, setting the dancefloor on fire simply because their other half is beside them.  Individuals with no beat at all, taking over the beat from their other halves – realizing the how to and when.

It is as if dancing is language and chapter of life all on its own.  To feel so at ease with yourself and the other person that you would let them guide you in a new, unknown direction…because that’s the flipside: the worst feeling is to feel uncomfortable on the dancefloor, to make a move and realize the rest are thinking you absurd…dancing in a group and being the last one left over.  But in the eyes of various couples I have seen that change to a attitude of “I don’t care anymore, because there is one person who LIKES my dancing, who ACCEPTS my dancing, who IMPROVES my dancing, who JOINS my dancing…and the rest don’t matter!”.

I pray that I can have that attitude about various things in life, and yes, more and more I hope that that same belief about God as the one inspiring these thoughts would become more and more present and reality.  But we were made to partner with humans as well.  God made us for eachother.  May we find (and choose) the ones who would make us…not necessarily EXPERT dancers…but CAREFREE dancers!

It is such a simple thing, but such a perfect metaphor for what our partners are supposed to be for us, isn’t it?  A teacher of what life can bring us if only we dare to venture out…showing us what has been inside us all along…and the best of all: to dance WITH someone is so much better than dancing alone: the sharing of life, makes life all the richer!

The dance of life: learning the steps and realizing you weren’t as bad at it as you thought you were.

Now, come partner, I’m waiting on the edge of the dance floor, ready to go.  All that’s missing is you!

Because of the tears you didn’t see

You never saw the tears

You saw my upturned face

With glances to impress

My comments made just for your ears

Every action I had assessed

You never saw the tears

You never saw the tears

But my thoughts you gathered with gluttony

And your thoughts became my sustenancy

You never saw the tears

Of loss

Of failure

Of hate

For you never saw my tears

Yearning for your coming back this way

Listening for your voice my word to say

That you never saw

Nights awaiting, acrying, debating

Wondering, dying, fearing, just…fraying

You never saw those tears

You, simply went

You, simply continued!

How?!

But YOU did

And I died…but lived again

I died…rose with strength regained

And now live, and choose, and flourish

Better…still only girl

Wiser…will forever learn until

More me

Because of the tears you didn’t see

I am learning to look after myself

I thought it was enough to give…I was under the impression that the great need I have to help others was enough to sustain me…I was wrong…so wrong.
No matter the amount of energy I gain from counseling and assisting…it does not keep me going…that’s just a fact of life I had to learn I guess.
…cause when you reach a day where you wish you had the guts to give up…to start over…to call a psychologist…to shout ‘stop!’…then you know you got something wrong in the equation….it all DOESN’T add up…
Or it all added up to too much.
Okay stop the rambling now…this is what I want to say.
Thank you for all the lessons I learnt through vampires who gobbled up my energy…to ‘friends’ using up my time…to baggage-carriers evading choices and dumping their issues onto my advice-giving.
Its not your fault that I was okay with being miss-used…but it is my privilege to move onto a better way of going about things.
I have the privilege of boundaries…of saying no…of choosing my time spent…of investing energy and taking up which responsibilities…and I will practice that right.
So thank you for the lesson. My future will never again by sapped of energy in this way.
I wish you all the best…and pray for the best…
But most of all…I choose the best for myself…balance…
Where I am also invested in…given time and energy and advice…cause guess what…I need it also…
love…safety…respect…friends…health…laughter…hope…a good life…

As I write I realise I have all the resources for this…but I keep finding my worth in what and who I can fix…no more…I will adjust my focus…

This train-of-thought….to be continued

That’s it.

Phil 4
And the peace of God will guard your hearts and thoughts…