Release

Completely wiped from travelling but decided that I have to really press in and push in my writing, regardless of what is happening and how I feel…

there is release in my writing, release from the jumbled thoughts that don’t get out during the day

words that others can’t hear, words that I haven’t fully processed

release from thinking that I am crazy and no one feels the same way about things as I do

release from shouting above the crowds to be heard

release to not put on constraints or align with someone else

release to speak out the things that Father is pressing on me

I feel pressed right now.

Pressed with so much, so many thoughts going on, so much planning

And planning leads to worry

Because as I plan

I place expectations

Expectations of how things are going to work out

Expectations of how I will be, you will be, others will be

Expectations

That when shattered

Shatter a part of me

5.9 Richter scale

reminiscent of time in Nicaragua

where all was fine

and then all was shaken

ending unknown

panic gripped

fear took over

and now I worry

what will I eat

what will I wear

what will be my home

what will my “career” be

and I know you Father God

take care of the birds in the air

and I am person

made from your image

you delight in me

love overwhelming

hold future that seems so unclear and distant

in tiny cell of steady hand palm

yet nothing lifts the worry

Do I really know you?

For you are love and perfect love casts out all fear and so in the knowing of you, I know love and therefore I know

No fear

Yet fear and I walk hand in hand

On-again, off-again lovers

Who cannot be prized apart

Do I really trust you?

Do I really take your word and implant it not just in my head, but within the steely depths of my heart and keep it there safe so that it isn’t just words, it is who I am, it is me, it is my belief?

I can see you in others

And bring words of comfort to them

And show them you

In your fullness of glory

But is it really your fullness

If I am not full of you?

Always Thankful for...

• …a flight that was $300 cheaper than anything else we had found.
• a comfy row for two on the plane – Steve gets a window seat, I get an aisle; everybody’s happy!!
• Getting the hair hostess to make me a cocktail of apple juice and spirte – you know me, pushing the boat out!!
• Getting extra bread on the flight (I do love my carbs!!)
• Watching Big Momma’s House 3, Black Swan, Friends, Mr Bean, CSI, Modern Family, and listening to albums by Janelle Monae, Adele & Jessie J.
• Getting picked up in the car by Steve’s sister and baby Fraser less than a month old!!
• The energy of 2 year old Theo (with chickenpox) shouting “bina” & “steve” when we arrived at his house.
• English rain!!
• Arriving at coach station for bus to Oxford 3 minutes before it arrives!
• The sleep on the coach that made up for the lack of sleep on the plane.
• All six bags fitting into the car…by some crazy miracle, and by getting a little squashed!!
• English TV!!
• Fish and Chips for Dinner.
• A “quick trip” with my mummy lasting 2 hours, with ¾ of it involving walking!!
• Mooching around my house in pyjama’s.
• How excited everyone is to see us.
• The fun that we will have over the next two weeks.

• The beautiful sleep I will get tonight. 
• Life, and journey with my wonderful husband. 
• Conversation with Father God. 

Mater

Cars 2 came out today.

11:30 am.

There we were with

Fav 6 year old twins in tow

Gibby & Gabby

I have realised with Steve and I we think ahead the way organised parents do.

Last night, Steve went and bought the tickets, knowing it would almost definitely be sold out.

I have also realised that Steve and I are not as organised as parents are.

At 11:31, we struggled in the dark to find a seat in the crowded auditorium, climbing all the stairs to the second to top row, only to find out that the seats were “saved” and we needed to climb all the way back down to the third to bottom row to find a four seats in a row.

The twin’s mother deems the movies “crack”

Disney Pixar is to pre-teens what Starbucks is to teens.

Excitement build in anticipation

Transfixed they are in awe

And when it’s over

They desire to go back for more and more.
And more.

But the sweet taste of Disney Pixar

Lasts longer

Than the calorie and caffeine laden venti’s,

No spoiler alerts necessary

(though prepare yourself for lots of English and Italian accents!)

But my focus was on Mater throughout

The rusty, wayward, eccentric

Old tow truck

Said the most profound thing 

When an attempt was made to remove his dents

He refused to be changed.

Mater values each and every dent he has

Earned during escapades with McQueen

His dents are precious

His dents are important

His dents represent more than just a random bump

They represent an adventure

My arm carries the faint reminder

Of when my husband nearly killed me snowboarding

And the fun we had

Doing something neither had done before

A new adventure together

Steve’s right leg is riddled with scars

Everyone a memory

Most prolific for me

The one that went green inside

From motorbike impaled in body

In Australian outback

A reminder of an adventure, a coming of age

The tummy roll, the fat that won’t shift

Loudly wobbles of your adventure in childbirth

Mark on chest, obvious to all

Reminds you of adventure and survival of surgery

Resenting your dent

Resents that chance

That opportunity

That adventure

That changed your life

Depth

Depth

Contrary to popular belief

And Black folklore

I can swim.

Second to top group at school swim class

Several badges

Including water proficiency

I even know how to ‘scull’

But I don’t usually enjoy the water

The hair is definitely a factor

Again,

I don’t want to play the black card

But

I don’t have white hair.

It won’t dry neatly after 20 minutes in the sun.

I don’t wash my hair daily.

It is a 2 hour effort.

Minimum.

Today I have had the conditioning treatment in my hair for two hours,

Just for an extra shine.

But even when I plan ahead,

Prepare an evening to wash my hair,

Jump in pool full pelt and get my hair wet…

I don’t usually enjoy the water

The phobia is not aqua,

Nor is it hydro.

It is Bath.

Bathophobia.

Fear of depth

Or fear of being

Out

of my depth

The desperate treading water

Delayed speech

Respiratory system desperate to grasp air

And though it surrounds

It is out of reach

When you drown

You cannot wave for help

For instinct drives arms down

Movements become involuntary

A cry for help is silently inside the head

And this fear extends beyond the water

It overflows

Leaving me sinking like the titanic

In various areas of

My fear laden life

Fear panics me about

Being a mother, Succeeding in the future, Having a long marriage, Getting picked to be friend’s bridesmaids, The youth I lead living great lives, People really liking me, Having enough finances, Finding a great place to live…

…Following the heart of God.

And in my desperation

To be in my depth

To keep my head above water

To stay afloat within my shallow capacity

In my desperation to eliminate fear

From the confines, eradicate it

From the borders of my existence

But when submerged

Embracing depth

Head under water

New world I see

Capabilities realised

True life

found

greeted

grasped

Ariel’s cry to walk on land

Be comfortable

Be civilised

Be a “real” human

Not realising

The depths she had still to learn

under the water.

Under the water

Diving in fully

Releasing thr control

For I cannot control it all

Kicking out the crutch

The fake friend

That fear as pretended to be

The friend that said it would protect me

But in fact

You hindered me

You stunted my growth

Causing me

To live with armbands

Floaties restriction

Incognisant of the fact

I could swim for miles

Fear

No longer will your weeds wrap

Force me into the shallow

When my heart calls out

Deep

Unto

Deep.

Plastic

I have always liked Simon Cowell

I remember Saturday evening's, Pop Idol on TV

My mum making critical but funny comments

At the “talent” paraded on TV

Finally she had met her match

In sky high waistband

And hairy chest

As I watched yesterday

Heard his words rip through souls

And dream

My ears pricked up at one sentence:

“You guys are over-rehearsed and insincere”

Five coffee-skinned

buff guys, with matching t-shirt

Slick Usher moves

Sweet harmony of voices

When asked how to spend $5million

Talked of helping community

Buying diapers for new baby

Yet shot down.

Even Simon Cowell

Million dollar mogul

With mansions galore

dates flawlessly dressed females

surrounded by musical artists

and the fickle nature of the recording industry

hates the fake.

“You’re not cold, you’re not hot – far better to be either cold or hot! You’re stale. You’re stagnant. You make me want to vomit. You brag, ‘I’m rich, I’ve got it made, I need nothing from anyone,’ oblivious that in fact you’re pitiful, blind beggar, threadbare and homeless.”

The dishonesty of the human heart

Can still be seen

On a stage

This world cries out

Pained scream

As she labours to birth

the authentic

The real

The truth

Who are we meant to be?

Not an imitation

Nor interpretation

But the true manifestation

of our inner self

and who it desires to be

truth

the truth of who you are

will set you free

for in that freedom

you can truly live

that is the John 10:10 life

to the full, to overflowing

fully who we are

fully who we were created to be

fake skunks the room

bellies doubled over

retching in the aisle

as it walks past

some are lulled in

bought into the lie

but only temporarily

knock off Guchi’s are noticed

in fair time

Flawless divas

pass the dutch 

and walk the halls

envy turns to disdain

then back to pity

you see them for what they are

cold shiny plastic. 

X

I don’t know when my charm started

Maybe it was the fact that I got so much attention when I was young

People in the palm of my hand

Toddlers at story time gathered round as 4 year old me read aloud in passionate voice

I know it got triggered one day

Concert in oxford park

Wanting to get near the bands

And mummy slips off

Alone

Into VIP area

Smoozes with the band Blue.

It was at that point

I realised

Charm

And a little bit of ignorance

Can get you anywhere

Fast forward to watching daytime tv

Resulting in X factor audition tickets

Turns out watching Maury (US version of Jeremy Kyle) can be valuable

Sweating hot in line

Seeing cameras in places

Hands on hips

Knowing eyes making contact

Cheeky Dallas morning news interview in place

pushing through crowds inside

mad dash for seat

close

but not close enough

push past the adolescent boys in Sperry’s and polo shirts

fire in my eyes

down the stairs to

Joanne

Just your average usher

Now

My new best friend

English charm

Patience my child

Center seats nearer the front

the hilarity of auditions

so much more vibrant than tv

the cutting yet true jabs of Simon

compliment Paula’s sweet sincerity

taping ends

crowd disperse

catch Simon heading towards audience

cat-like body traverses crowd

body in place

to shake hand

make brief polite conversation

“It’s nice to hear a familiar accent”

Charm

And a little bit of ignorance

(cheeky English accent)

Can get you anywhere

If you are willing to step out.

Imagine if I used my powers for good.

Risk

The flimsy fabric hung out to dry

Hung out on the line

Out in the open

The stark sun shines straight through

The drizzle of rain dampens and wrinkles

Transparent.

On the stage for all to see

Stepping out to who knows what response

Belting out ‘Delta Dawn,’

revealing what’s beneath

Exposed.

Like gold refined

I am burnt in the fire

Destroyed by agonies

Purified into something more

Laid out bare.

Vulnerable.

There must have been a day

When I stepped out from behind the curtain

When my hand raised up

I decided to speak bold

And once I started

Rollercoaster never ending

Looped and looped

Country to country

City and towns

Camps and fields

To speak aloud

this generation screams

loud from the rooftops

seeking authenticity

search party sent out

running hectic from street to street

desperate for truth

desiring the real

And I said,

“Here I am Lord

Speak for your servant is listening

Send me

To proclaim good news to your people.”

Cut open eyes

That you may see the beauty around

See through the pain that blinds.

Tear through limbs

For as you stumble

I seek to uplift, to carry.

Dissect the heart

In the hope others will hear the beat of life

Once again.

Transplant me Father into the lives of others

May I not live

For myself alone

For greater love has no man than this

That he would lay down his life for another

So I lay down my pen

Fingers to print

And lay it bare

So we may all be healed.

“Thank you for your honesty, it inspires me”

“Your honesty is powerful”

“I love reading your notes, because you are so transparent”

“Thanks for sharing this”

“Just what I needed to hear”

“In the middle of all this, you can still write that”

“Your vulnerability and honesty has healing power in it to bring release & wholeness to others!”

my words are yours, dear reader

my thoughts are shared with you

“Yes we all have bumps and scars, but you make it beautiful to have them all”

“Beautiful indeed”

as we lay ourselves bare.

There is no reward

Without a risk.

----------

All quotes in “italics” are comments I have received for my writing.

Thank you for your continual encouragement as I seek to serve you all, and serve Father God through my writing.

I pray everyday that I would be some sort of blessing to you.

Fragile

You hate to be the “fun sucker”

The one who sits on the other side of the fence head in hands

Sulky face

While others run circus style

With joy and laughter

And hope

And point at you wondering why you

Insist on being so dull

Not joining the party

But you sulk and whine

Attempting to disguise

Sadness at the fact

The tear-stained cheeks

At the party’s strict guest list

And you’re can’t possibly be on it

Because you don’t have a dad.

In family portrait where biological father should be

Stands shadow of a man

I do not know

Cannot know

Will never know

Would not delight to know

For what would a coward of a man

Defiantly and flippantly

turning back on responsibility

Possible have

To offer me

I am not his daughter.

Mother does what mother should

Arms wide, full of love

Shopping trips with bargains

Late night gossips over hot chocolate

At home relaxer mishaps and remedies on scarred skin

Cooks well enough to feed both stomach

And heart

But mother cannot do what father should

For that is not her role

That is not her portion

That is not her blame

For she held the bike as I nervously stumbled

Traipsed to parent teacher meetings alone

Taught half-naked toddler to read and write

And took my arm and gave it away

Entrusting into arms of a man she deemed fit enough

 A man who wouldn’t leave me behind.

You see,

The fatherless heart is a precious thing

Broken so early on

Barely even functional

Stone walls surround

Yet bribes are taken

For despite how much I know I can’t trust

And don’t want to be vulnerable

A smile and promise can lead you in

But cement lines show

New layers added

As promises are proven to be empty

I am blessed for in the gap

So many have stepped into

Willing to take the place where one wouldn’t go

For years or for seasons

They have shaped me

And weaved me

Mended me

Resuscitated me

Blank field on birth certificate proves a painful reminder

But I choose

To twist it around

Words of a teacher

Etched in my heart:

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

For I am a joy

A princess

A jewel

Worthy of so many crowns

A fighter back in the ring

For “fatherless” will not be my definition

Not my crutch

Nor my excuse

For phoenix rises from ashes

Of statistics and stereotypes

To prove I am more than enough

And though earthly situations

Led to spiritual deformations

And I struggled to trust

In a Father who cared

Who would stick around long-term

Fulfilling his word

Oh Father God you have shown yourself strong.

My past has shaped,

But it will not dictate.

So today, will you not

Dry the tear

And be around 

And sit and support

The ones just like me.

For we are a fragile kind,

In need of a unshakeable Father.

------ 

Happy Father's Day

Father's, Step-dad's, Adoptive Fathers, Papa's, Grandpa's, Pops', G-Pa's, Uncle's, Foster dad's, Cousin's, Mentors, big brother's, men of the community....never forget what a difference you make in the life of a child, just by simply being there...

...without you, they would be fatherless. 

Sleep

Last night my eyes hit the pillow at 4am.

Facedown into my billowing down clouds they went

Only to be abruptly awoken at 8:50am by a husbands kisses goodbye,

and a glance to the clock to see that I was being picked up

in 15 minutes time.

Car horn honks at 9:05 to which a reply is sent:

Just got out of the bathroom. Be down in 2 mins.

Tiredly I climb into the car emotionally but not physically ready for 8 hours of writing, conversations, birthday brownies delivery, emails and Facebook polling.

Followed by dinner and talks, celebrating the life of an 8 year old.

Cosied in pyjama’s, at nearly midnight, I cuddle with husband as he continues his Fifa ‘Battle of Glory.’

Oh how I wish this day wasn’t typical.

But such is the life when you believe.

That your skills and gifts are not for your sake.

People are valuable.

There is much to be learned from those older than you.

That children desire and love your attention.

That even brief moments together can make an impact.

That Father God is doing great things

And you are desperate to be a part of them.

My feet drag when faced with enforced task

Knowing there is an impact, and I need to be a good steward,

I will continue to work hard

By my heart knows it tastes dissatisfaction

And it longs for more

But when you love

Oh how your butt can haul

And work

Feverishly

Feverently

Tirelessly

Relentlessly

Tired eyes continued to type, edit and examine

With the arrival of the dawn

For the heart believed in the work

Of the hands.

How long can my soulless body

Sit at bring desk

And look outside at open field

Desperate for exploration?

When I stepped out of Pais almost a year ago,

Several wondered if this was a turn wrong

I stretched and pressed in

To hear Father God’s voice speak to me

Yearning for the noise in the whisper

And I stand now

Awed

Amazed

At how wonderfully hard

How beautiful an adventure

Into who I am

And who I am in Him

And how this changes

the world around me

Exposing where my heart lies

by what my actions have done

time spent on strange, and new, and ordinary

made sweet lemonade

when given oranges

The wandering 

has been the most honest thing I have ever truly done.

deep calls to deep

soul cries loud

"Wouldn’t take nothing for my journey now"

Mary

“God has a surprise for you: You will become pregnant and give birth to a son and call his name Jesus. He will be great, be called ‘Son of the Highest.’ The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David; He will rule Jacob’s house forever—no end, ever, to his kingdom.”

She knew the beginning

and the end of sorts…

…and that was it.

No other recorded details

Not fully knowing the impact child would make

No guidelines

No instructions

Just a random angel’s words:

“God’s getting you up the duff, and the baby’s going to be a superstar.”

When curveballs rage

Dark tunnel ahead

Where do you go?

Where do you head?

How do you parent the Son of God??

Do you make Him do chores??

Do you make Him do homework??

If He falls over and bangs his head on the coffee table,

do you just let Him heal Himself??

Starting line up

End point in sight

But what of the hurdles that lay inbetween?

Bread on both sides

Filling unsure

But we can rely

That sandwich taste will be sweet

Trust divine

Complete reliance

Clichéd words that must be found true in this

Stress

Spirit guiding through the mud

Bring my heart to carefully notice

The things that would remain unobserved otherwise.

For nothing is by chance.

We live by faith, not by fate.

Taking heart of smallest and largest

All building from a ponder

To pave a way through

Born is certain for you read these words.

Death awaits us all,

Our time of judgment will come.

But what of the center?

What of this life?

What of my daily grind?

Which steps do I take?

I know so little

But of this I am sure

Of the hand of Father

Providence upon our lives

Plans to prosper

Plans of grace

Plans of trouble

Struggle of a journey

Destination in the daily

Embracing right now

None of us have arrived,

Desperate striving to untangle

the messy strings

that make up our

this so called life.

Take care of each thread between

The dawn and the dark

For who knows what a pull

A tug of string

Will unravel.