The Oasis - Ch 8

Rachel lay on her stomach the sun beating down on her back. It had been a great weekend, spent mostly at the beach. Liz was great company, Rachel was glad she had decided to go into the common room instead of straight up to bed that first night. She could feel the sun starting to cook her skin and knew it was time to apply more sunscreen to her back, the only problem was she was feeling too relaxed to move. Settling for a compromise she rolled onto her back and put her hat over her face.
A part of her couldn’t believe just how good a time she was having and it occurred to her that for the most part she hadn’t thought about her parents but she supposed they weren’t giving her much thought either so it was all equal.
The guys were a lot of fun too. Last night the four of them had gone down to the nearest pub. Briefly Rachel was worried she’d be asked for I.D. and then kicked out because she didn’t have any, she knew a credit card simply wouldn’t cut it in that situation. She needn’t have given it any thought. The bouncers on the door knew the other three so didn’t even give her a second look. Well maybe a second but not a third. She was introduced to some interesting people including some who were also staying at the hostel.
One of the girls working behind the bar, Emma, had been staying at the hostel but was now living with her boyfriend. She told Rachel it was cheaper and she was lucky he wanted to travel with her because she could only work in each place for three months. Unlike Liz, Emma appeared to think she had found someone special. Rachel was sceptical but she wished the other girl the best anyway.
Nothing she had seen in her life made her believe a steady relationship was a great thing. Her parents may have been still together but in her book that didn’t make them well rounded people, especially considering they always seemed more interested in themselves than their only child. That is of course until she started doing things to tarnish their pristine reputations.
Quite a few of the kids she’d gone to school with had divorced parents and her past relationships or interactions with the opposite sex had done nothing to show her why you would want to tie yourself down to one guy. Still everyone was different Rachel reasoned and as long as Emma was happy it was none of her business. Then again it wasn’t even her business if Emma wasn’t happy because Rachel didn’t even really know her.
A shadow blocked her sunlight. Rachel lifted her hat, Liz was standing above her.
“So what’s it like being a lady of leisure?”
“Oh you know.” Rachel tried to make it sound as if it was all she ever did.
“No actually I don’t.” Liz plonked herself down on the edge of Rachel’s towel, kicking her sandals off and burying her feet in the warm sand.
“Alright, so you’ll know in a couple of weeks.” Rachel put the hat back over her face.
Liz took it off. “That doesn’t mean I don’t wish I could spend the whole day at the beach like you.”
Rachel sat up. “No you don’t, you’d get bored.”
“Like hell I would, have you not noticed some of the bodies down here.
“Have you not noticed the other ‘somebodies’?”
Liz looked around, it didn’t take many seconds to realise what Rachel was referring to. “You mean the attachments. Surely some of them are single.”
“Probably but trying to figure that out sounds like too much hard work to me.”
“So maybe I could buy a magazine or even a book, the speed I read that’d keep me busy for about a month. Seriously though, what are your plans?”
Rachel looked around the beach for a few moments and then looked back at Liz. “You know, I guess I haven’t really thought about it. I’m still a bit amazed I’m here actually.”
“It’s a bit like that when you first travel.”
“Hey?” Rachel spoke before she thought.
Liz lifted her sunglasses and really looked at her. For a minute Rachel thought she had stuffed up and Liz was onto her, but Liz put her glasses back on and turned to stare out at the surf.
“I just meant it does sometimes take a while to adjust to the feeling of being somewhere new. I suppose the big difference between you and I is you’re still in your own country. When I was getting ready to come over here it was so weird. I was doing all the planning, sorting out my visa and everything but it was like it didn’t really register that I was going to another country to live for two years. People kept asking me if I was excited and I wasn’t, even though I thought I should’ve been. It wasn’t until I was here, on an Australian beach, in this wonderful weather that it really hit me. That was when I first got excited, up until then I think it was all just a bit too surreal.”
Rachel let Liz’s words sink in. She really wanted to tell Liz the truth, she just wanted someone to know but she still wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. Instead she took a side issue. “Why did you pick here? Most people pick the bigger cities, you know on the east coast.”
“Honestly, the beaches. About a year ago an Aussie girl named Kate started working at my favourite pub back home. She was the reason I decided to travel. Anyway Kate was often talking about all her travelling and she’d tell us about what it was like back here. She seemed to be having so much fun. She would work for a while then take off for a couple of weeks and travel. Then she would come back to England and find another job somewhere else.
“I started to think it sounded like a great thing to do. So I asked her about places she had been and places she would recommend. She sold me on the beaches of Western Australia and she wasn’t wrong, I mean look at that,” Liz stretched her hand out in the direction of the ocean.
“Isn’t it just amazing. When I leave here I’m going to Kate’s home town of Esperance for a couple of weeks. I’ll be staying with a friend of Kate’s. She’s promised to show me some of the best beaches I’ve ever seen, including some places they apparently don’t tell regular tourists about. I suppose she could just be yanking my chain but I don’t care. After that I’m going to head up north, you know do the real tourist thing, dolphins, Monkey Mia and the like. I’m hoping to get some work in Broome and I’d love to see the gorges, I’ve seen some great pictures of them.
“Then I’m thinking Darwin and Alice Springs, but who knows, something may happen and my plans may change. I kind of like that aspect of travelling by myself, it means I’m not tied down to any particular schedule and I can change plans whenever I want.”
“Wow,” said Rachel. “You really seem to know what you want out of life.”
“You’re kidding right?” Liz couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Why do you think I’m travelling? It’s because I don’t know what I want. What I just told you about is probably less than six months of my life. I don’t even know what I want to do after that, except maybe to spend some time in New Zealand. There are other places I’d like to see, but who knows how I’ll feel in six months time. By then I may want to go home.”
“I don’t ever want to go home,” muttered Rachel.
Liz gave her a questioning look but didn’t press the issue. When Rachel didn’t elaborate she just continued on as if Rachel hadn’t said anything.
“That is of course if I don’t get kicked out of the country first.” She paused staring out at the ocean. “So what are your plans?”
“What do you mean?”
“Work my dear. Unless of course you are independently wealthy, or your folks are forking out the money for you to slum it around the world.”
“Yeah like that’d happen.”
“Well then you are going to need an income even if you are staying somewhere as cheap as the dump we are in. Don’t get me wrong some of the best places I’m likely to stay would be considered dumps by more than a few people, but that aside, they still cost money.”
Rachel sighed. “I know,” she paused not sure what to say next, “but I’m trying not to think about it. I figure I have at least a week’s leeway before I have to do that kind of thinking, maybe it could be stretch to two if the weather stays this nice.”
“Oh so you really are a lady of leisure.”
“No not really, I’d just been planning this for a while so I have a little money put aside.”
“I wouldn’t let the guys know that they’ll try and hit you up for drinks and stuff.”
“Why, they work.”
“Yeah but they also drink and smoke a lot, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
The two girls sat on the beach in silence watching the breaking surf. Eventually Rachel spoke, “I guess we should head back.”
“Why?”
“I’m starting to feel hungry and I could do with a shower before trying to decide what I want to eat.”
“I can’t argue with that.”

Journey Home - Entry 9

I realise in all this I haven’t actually said what it was that happened to change my life so drastically. I’ve relived it again and again but I haven’t yet put it down in words. I guess I haven’t wanted to for much the same reason I haven’t wanted to talk about it with anyone, giving voice to it or words to it gives the whole thing more substance.
I wish I could live in denial but that isn’t realistic. I suppose I should be happy that my mind hasn’t shattered enough for it to be an option.
So anyway here it is in words.
It was a Thursday, just a normal Thursday afternoon, or at least that’s the way it started out. Jessica and I were doing our weekly shop. Like most people we were minding our own business, enjoying the time we were spending with each other.
I tried to make sure Jessie and I spent quality time together every week, so Thursday had become our shopping night. Let’s face it girls love to shop even if it is just window shopping. We would come home after school, get changed and prepare for battle. It was so much fun. We would disagree about everything from cereal to clothes. Usually starting at home with, ‘Mum you can’t wear that it’s sooooo embarrassing’ and I’d get changed. I used to plan in advance the most hideous outfits I could. It was all part of our weekly ritual. We’d shop, make wish lists and then grab an ice-cream before heading home. Thinking about it now hurts so much. I don’t know if I can keep writing.

Feeling Sorry For Myself

Life goes on and there are times I really wonder about my faith, mostly when it seems we try to do all we can and so often something comes and knocks us on our butts.
I had to pull myself up today from feeling sorry for myself. I'd just been to the drs and I hate drs waiting rooms, being late, gyno exams and kids immunisations. Then there was the news our youngest needs a referral to PMH (kids hospital) - nothing serious but after her sisters fun and games with her hearing I'm frustrated at having to do it again, even if it is slightly diff. Anyway I was thinking how unfair it was that I have so much going on and other people I know cruise by and blithely say everything is going to work out fine and so often it seems to for them.
Hello! How much self pity do I have? I don't need or want the life these people I was comparing myself to, have. I don't want their faith. The few times we’ve talked about it I’ve walked away thinking ‘I want more than that, there has to be more’. And in all honesty I don’t really know what is going on in their lives, we’re not that close. I should know that just because the surface looks so smooth doesn’t mean what’s really going on is without vicious undercurrents.
So I guess it comes down to can I stand up to the faith I want? (Daniel 3:16-18)
Am I prepared to put the effort in to get the deeper kind of relationship I want? (Luke 10:38-42)
Can I trust that God has it all in hand when I don't even know how my bills are going to get paid? (Matthew 6:25-34)
Am I able to push through the hard times because I know God has a call on my life and I want the best He has for me? (James 1:12, Job)
Do I believe God put certain things in my life so He can use them to reach others and teach me? (Romans 8:28)
Or is it all some big cosmic joke to Him?
In my heart I know the answer to the last is no. Problem is sometimes it feels like it is yes. Good thing faith isn't dictated by feelings, or my faith would be so fragmented it wouldn't stand up to anything. Forget about the winds of doubt, it wouldn’t stand up to a smelly…well you get it.
So in my moment of certainty in amongst all the uncertainty, I just want to encourage you that sometimes going deeper, means pushing harder, digging your heels in and persevering when all you want to do is walk the easy path for a while.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
James 1:2-4

Five Dollars

Three youths (18-20) stole five dollars from a six year old girl and when her dad stepped in to protect her and get her money back they beat him up.
This is an actual event and believe me if you were in my house on Friday you would know all about it. My hubby surfed channels till he found the story on the news, then had to tell me to stop shouting at him. He’s not the problem, he was just there, and believe me if he knew who they were…maybe I should leave that unsaid. I’m not 100% sure the Bible says anything specifically about pounding on thieving, selfish, cowards but I know there are things that probably relate, so it’s best to say I’m not feeling particularly ‘turn the other cheek and leave it God’ish.
The five dollars was five one dollar coins this girl had taped to a letter for Santa, I don’t know why, and I don’t care that Christmas is still…well too far in the future for me to be thinking about. I care that it happened at all. I am angry and appalled and if I thought it would make a difference I’d get on my roof and shout my displeasure. I could make myself heard make no mistake, I have a theatrical background and I know how to project. But I have children and I don’t want them in the firing line just because I’m worked up about something.
What the heck is wrong with society? Five dollars! What satisfaction could possibly be achieved from stealing from a child? I am in full fledged rant and I’m not about to try and be PC or polite about this. I don’t give a damn about any reason or excuse you could offer up in their defense. There is not a thing that justifies such an action. The poor girl watched her daddy get beaten up and when they went home she hid in her wardrobe, she was that scared. What wonderful examples of young adulthood we have around us. Don’t even think of coming back with but not all of them are like that because I know that. It doesn’t really matter that the percentage is small, it matters that it happens at all. Our kids should be allowed to be kids, they shouldn’t have to live in fear of being jumped by adults on the street for their pocket money.
What on earth has happened? How has it got to the stage where greed and selfishness has become so prevalent? I’m going to talk about that in more detail some other time because there is so much that can be said about that.
I’m finally starting to calm down. After a brief discussion with my husband and the thought of putting the question ‘where do these thugs live?’ out there, he said it was probably a good thing my gun club membership had expired. Now I don’t actually think guns are the answer. My suggestion would be more along the lines of - round up those who think beating up and picking on the young, the elderly, the weak and infirm is something to do, and put them in a room with me and a group of my mum and dad friends. Another not so Christian suggestion? Guess I still have a way to go. Some days it seems the work God and I do together on my life has so much further to go.
My frustration is in part due to the fact I feel so helpless. So unable to do anything that will change these sort of trends. Could I go out into that environment and patiently reach out to these lost, hurting, screwed up kids/adults? No I don’t have the patience, I just want to grab them and shake them till I knock some sense into them. I admire the people who can do that. And to be perfectly honest I don’t want to put my own kids closer to that kind of situation than necessary, so yeah I am a bit selfish too.
I know that I can reach out to those in my sphere of influence and do what I can for them. I do know some kids at risk of going down that sort of path, and I can make sure they don’t slip through the cracks. Of course I can’t help but wonder where the parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles to these kids are! But then the whole solution never is that simple is it?

The Oasis - Ch 7

Rachel’s head was pounding when she woke up the following morning. She tried to lift it but it felt as though the whole world was rocking. She stopped trying to move and waited for the rocking to finish. When it had almost stopped she heard a groan near her ear and felt an arm pull her closer and the rocking started again.
“Don’t, it’s too early,” mumbled an almost incoherent male voice.
Rachel would have jumped if she wasn’t so focussed on trying not to move. It all came back to her. Well not all of it. She wasn’t at home and she wasn’t on the farm, so far it was all good news. She was in Perth, near the beach staying at a cheap hostel. She remembered that much and it still qualified as good. She had met some people, gotten drunk and the reason the world was rocking was because she had woken up in a hammock with a Kiwi called Jez. Still not bad. Her head hurt too much to try and fill in the details so she decided not too. Apart from her head nothing hurt, so Rachel reasoned things must be okay.
Slowly she opened her eyes. Then shut them again straight away. It was very bright. She wished she had her sunglasses. Then she remembered her jacket. She had her sunglasses when she went down to the beach for dinner last night and hadn’t been back up to the dorm since. She realised though that she wasn’t wearing it, in fact she wasn’t even sure where she had left it. She decided it could wait, Jez really did have a great chest and she curled in closer to him.
She was almost asleep again when something shook the hammock.
“Hey Romeo, get up we’ve got to go to work.”
“Not going, too comfortable.” Rachel heard Jez’s response through his chest. He was right it really was too comfortable to move.
She felt the hammock begin to tilt, and sat up suddenly, her body protesting at the movement. “Hey!”
“Hey to you too,” answered Brett. “You have five seconds to wake him up before I throw a bucket of cold water on you both.”
Rachel flipped herself off the hammock somewhat unsteadily, which sent her head spinning. Her body seemed undecided about it’s ability to hold up her weight. She put a hand on the closest tree to try and steady herself. Her mind was trying to convince the rest of her that what she’d just done had to be better than being shocked awake with cold water. The rest of her wasn’t quite convinced.
“Get up Jez.” She poked him in the ribs. He just grunted. She looked at Brett through mostly shut eyes and shrugged. “I tried.”
Brett lifted a bucket and emptied it over Jez. Rachel winced, glad she’d moved before the water hit.
Jez sat up and shook his head, getting water all over Rachel and Brett. “I guess that means I don’t have to have a shower, thankyou.”
“Your welcome.”
“Breakfast?”
“Maccers.”
“Work?”
“Dunno.”
The two guys walked off continuing the conversation one word at a time. Rachel shook her head and winced again. It had been a while since she had been hung over. Especially this hung over. Looking around she found her jacket. Bending over to pick it up gave her head the opportunity to take another spin on its axis. She decided she was going to get a huge glass of water and then go to bed. It wasn’t as if there was anything pressing she had to do.
It was after twelve when she woke up again. She didn’t feel queasy any more rather her stomach seemed to be letting her know it was time for her to eat. Her head also felt better, not normal but definitely better. Rachel grabbed her toiletries and headed to the bathroom hoping one of them was free. Half way there she ran into Liz.
“Hey sleepyhead, have fun last night?”
Rachel laughed before realising what a bad idea it would be. Her head started throbbing again. “Did you?”
“You know I did, but you didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes I had a good time, thanks for including me.”
“You still didn’t answer my question.”
Rachel stared at her briefly until it dawned on her what Liz was talking about. “Oh. I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean, ‘you don’t think so’?”
“I had a good time but not the way you mean, I was still fully dressed when I woke up in the hammock.”
Liz laughed, “The hammock, now that’s something I haven’t tried. I wonder if it could take the weight?”
“I’ll let you know when I find out.” Rachel joined in Liz’s laughter.
“Anyway on to more serious matters,” said Liz. “I was just about to head down to the beach, do you want to join me?”
“Sure, I guess I can get something to eat down there.”
Liz raised a questioning eyebrow and looked at the toiletries in Rachel’s hands.
Rachel shrugged, “Not much point having a shower if we’re going swimming and food was the next thing on my ‘to do’ list.”

Journey Home - Entry 8

This is so much harder than I thought it would be. Not that this is something I ever thought about mind you. Then who does think about how they’ll cope with the death of their child? It just isn’t something anyone ever really considers. I suppose you think about it when you hear, see or read those stories about children being killed. Even so, you never really consider the possibility it could happen to you. I know I certainly didn’t.
The news headlines make it all sound so impersonal. I saw one that read “TRAGEDY: SEVEN DEAD IN SUPERMARKET SLAUGHTER”. In normal circumstances you would read that and think ‘oh how sad’ and maybe wonder about what this world is coming to, but it’s still something far removed from you personally.
The only problem was this time it wasn’t so far away. In fact it was so close I’m sure the scars I have will never completely fade.
Perhaps the public nature of it all is one reason I’m finding it so difficult to deal with. It’s so hard when a personal tragedy is laid out for all to see. People think they know me because of what they’ve read about me in the paper. They don’t. They don’t know the first thing about me, except my daughter was killed.
They mean well, I don’t doubt that, but it’s so hard to grieve when you don’t have the privacy to do so. It’s as if everything I’m feeling is amplified by the fact everyone seems to be watching me to see how I will cope.
I’ve only just got my privacy back so maybe things will start making sense again soon.

Journey Home - Entry 7

I haven’t really talked about the funeral. I don’t know if I should or even if I can. However it is my journal and I can talk about anything I want without any concern for the etiquette of death, if such a thing exists.
I haven’t had a lot of experience with funerals. One of my grandfathers died when I was little but I don’t remember much about that. I’ve heard people say the funeral for so and so was beautiful and similar sentiments, but I’m not sure the words beautiful or lovely suit a funeral. It may be Jessica’s is still too fresh in my mind.
Her funeral was not what I would consider a private affair but then I shouldn’t have expected it to be. After all the way she died was horribly public. Jessie was the youngest victim and so many people came to express their condolences. I didn’t even know half of them. I just thanked them and moved on.
There were so many flowers as well. In fact I’ve received more flowers in the last few weeks than I probably will during the rest of my lifetime. What’s with flowers at a time like this? I don’t get it. What have flowers got to do with death? Why do people think they are a good thing to give to someone who’s grieving? Sure they’re pretty but they don’t last very long before they die too, doesn’t that make them a highly inappropriate thing to give?
It seems a tragedy like this brings, I don’t know, people’s hearts to life. So often we live day after day not caring about others. I know because I see it all the time; disdainful looks, poorly looked after children, abuses of many kinds. So many different things. Things we seem to become immune to until some sort of tragedy awakens the compassion in us. I know I’m being somewhat cynical, not all people are like that. I hope I’m not like that, but if I’m to be honest in many ways I am. I’ve turned my nose up at people, muttered about how they should look after themselves better. I’ve even seen things and thought someone should do something about it. It never crossed my mind to do anything about it myself. I’m just like everyone else.
Where was I? Jessica’s funeral. Sometimes it seems so long ago, sometimes it seems like yesterday and always I wish it were some horrible, terrible dream I could wake up from.

Brief Moments - 3

You Say, I Say

You say I am religious
When I say that I believe
You laugh at my convictions
My truth you will not see

You say that God cannot exist
With all that’s going on
I say that’s when I need Him most
For only He can make me strong

You see it as a weakness
When I say I have faith
You think I think I’m better than you
But I’m only here through God’s grace

You say you do not see the point
Life’s fine just where it’s at
I say He’ll still be here for you
When you want more than that

Prodigal

I said goodbye
Turned my back on you
Struck out on my own
Looking for things to do
I wanted to taste
The forbidden fruit
It didn’t matter to me
That I broke your heart

Things worked out
For a while at least
Then it all appeared
To come apart at the seams
Face first in the gutter
Left all alone
Ashamed and confused
Crying for home

Dragging my feet
I headed where I’d begun
Not sure of the reception
For this prodigal son
But you ran out to meet me
Miles from home
And welcomed me back
With open arms

Listen

In the hustle and the bustle
Of the working week
It’s easy to forget
To listen for God to speak

There’s so much background noise
Every place we go
So many things to do
We seldom take it slow

We want God to reach out to us
As long as it fits with all of this
Our focus remains on other things
We forget the soft, still voice is His

Why do we think the King of Kings
Should do things on our terms?
We’ve become arrogant not humble
Will we ever learn?

Running That Race

I have a new theory of this race we are supposed to be running:

Therefore since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of
witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the
sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance
the race marked out for us.
Hebrews 12:1

I’ve always seen it as a sprint or at a stretch a marathon but I’ve came to the realisation that it is in fact neither. It is more an extreme cross country event – sometimes the terrain is flat and clear, sometimes there are rocky ups and downs, and sometimes the way disappears altogether and all you have to get through is passion, determination, a compass and a map that as long as we read it correctly keeps us travelling toward our goal. The thing with this type of event is it is hard, gruelling, sweaty work. I’ve no doubt that when people get to the finish line they are elated. The sense of triumph must be amazing.
To get to that point though requires determination, hard work, the ability to read the map and follow the compass properly and all of these things are capable of tripping us up.
These type of events are not the sort of thing one enters into lightly. First you need to decide if it’s the thing for you. As Christians that decisions is made for us the moment we choose Christ. Then we train.

Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training.
They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a
crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like a man
running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating air.
1 Corinthians 9:25-26

Now for each of us the training section will be different. Some of us will be well prepared (fairly fit, to keep with the race analogy) the things in our lives have led us to the race well equipped, so our training time may be short before we jump headlong into the active call of God (the race). Others may be very unfit and require many hours in the gym and hitting the footpaths. We need to build up our spiritual strength and stamina. During this time we read the bible and anything else that helps us in our relationship with God. We pray, we learn to listen and we learn to persevere. It is during this time we learn to start trusting God. Then when we are ready to step out of our comfort zone, we are ready to step up to the start line for the race God has set aside specifically for us.
Just a quick word on comfort zones. We seem to be under the impression that the bible says God wants us to have everything we want and that everything will be fine, which we interpret to mean comfortable. I think God doesn’t always want us to be comfortable because if we are we are less likely to move, not forward or backwards. Comfort makes us complacent and it is very self oriented. When you are comfortable you tend to only do the things that don’t interfere with that comfort. Comfort zones are dangerous because when we spend all that time there it makes our faith lukewarm and the bible is very clear about lukewarm faith.

So because you are lukewarm – neither hot nor cold – I am about
to spit you out of my mouth.
Revelation 3:16

The sad thing is sometimes we never actually get into the race. We fool ourselves into thinking that the training is the race and as long as we do that we don’t need to actually get out into the wild and race.
The thing about the race is it is far messier than the training and it’s not that easy to pack up, go home and have a hot shower when you’ve had enough. Of course you can do that in the spiritual race, you can always just quit, but think about how much you could miss out on.
Is the satisfaction of knowing you strove to attain the best God set apart for you enough to keep you going? This is where passion and determination come into play. You know before you start that it’s going to be hard work but if you don’t have the right mental mindset you won’t be able to push through.
If you think the Christian walk is going to be a lovely afternoon stroll in the park then I’d have to say your faith isn’t the one I see in my Bible, it isn’t the path Christ modelled for us. Christ was driven out into the dessert and tempted, he was hated in his own town, he was hated and betrayed by the very people who were waiting for him, his tears were tainted with blood, he was beaten, rejected, feared and loved and I don’t think any of it was a pretty wander through the flower filled gardens. Yet that is somehow what we expect. Why? I think that is a question well worth asking ourselves.
It’s not like God expects us to enter the race without the things we need to reach the finish line. He provides us with everything we need to get through the training and the race. The Bible, like a map, gives us the lay of the land and lets us know what’s out there. The Holy Spirit, like a compass, can guide us in the right direction as long as we pay constant attention to it. Sure sometimes it’s possible to read the compass wrong or we discard it because we think we know better. This can cause us to get lost and when you lose your way the journey back can be twice as difficult, fortunately for us that doesn’t put us out of the race, but it can cause us to loose time and our position.
Ultimately though the path we take is the one we choose. Sure things happen to us that we don’t choose but if you enter an extreme cross-country event you go in knowing you won’t always know what is coming around the corner and the only way you can handle it is to deal with it and get on with the task at hand or quit. Entering the race means you know there will be challenges. Life is full of challenges but once you step foot onto the starting line for the race that is the Christian journey you should never fall into the trap that it is going to be a lovely afternoon walk around the block. It wasn’t for the early church and the first Christians so why would it be different for us?

The Oasis - Ch 6

When Rachel got back to the hostel there were three people sitting in the common room watching television. She hesitated, unsure of the protocol of a situation like this. Sure she had spent plenty of time with people older than herself but it was on her own turf, where she was now was unfamiliar territory and that placed her outside her comfort zone. Which, considering the circumstances that brought her to this point, seemed like rather a silly thing to be worrying about.
Part of her was concerned someone would guess what she had done and turn her in. For a moment she thought she’d be better off trying to keep to herself as much as possible, then she realised there was really no point. If she was going to be found out, she was going to be found out and the only thing self-imposed isolation would achieve would be to deny herself a bit of fun. It was entirely possible her parents wouldn’t come looking for her for two weeks. With a bit of luck they might think she’d come home once the time she was supposed to be at the farm was over.
Rachel made up her mind. She went into the common room. She sat in one of the empty chairs. No-one even acknowledged her presence and she started to feel really self conscious. Then the ads came on.
“Hey new chick, have a name?” asked the guy stretched out on the couch, his legs laying on the lap of the other female in the room.
“Yeah you?” Rachel said. The girl bit back a laugh. When the guy didn’t respond Rachel started to feel even more uncomfortable, with no idea of what to do or say next. He just stared at her until she broke his gaze by turning her attention back to the television. Rachel was sure her face was bright red. It certainly felt as though she was burning up. She heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh but refused to turn around. If this was some initiation thing they would have to do better than that to get her involved. Rachel was beginning to think she would have been better off going straight up to the dorm.
“Geez Brett you can be such a prick sometimes. Hey..?” Rachel turned back to face the couple, the girl was smiling. “I’m Liz, this dick is Brett and the quiet one, sorry make that the stoned one, is Jeremy, only he doesn’t tend to answer to that so call him Stoner, we all do.”
A cushion flew across Rachel’s view and would’ve hit Liz square in the face if she hadn’t ducked.
“Don’t tell the girl lies, I answer to Jez but only me mum calls me Jeremy. What was that are you blind ref?” The whole time he spoke Jeremy’s eyes hadn’t left the screen.
Rachel turned her attention back to the show and noticed for the first time that they were watching rugby. She didn’t understand rugby and didn’t want to ask any dumb questions so once again found herself thinking about going upstairs.
Liz came and sat on the arm of the chair Rachel was sitting in. “Look don’t mind those two, they are just a little obsessive about their rugby.”
“Are not,” shouted Brett in the midst of abusing someone in the game.
Liz smiled, “See what I mean? Still they are entertaining.” She was quiet for a minute.
“I’m Rachel.”
“So Rachel what brings you here?”
Rachel paused. She didn’t want to tell the truth, she had no idea how Liz would react, she didn’t know what type of person Liz was. The problem was she hadn’t thought about what she would say if someone asked her that question. In retrospect not having a prepared answer did seem a bit stupid but there wasn’t anything she could do about it now.
“Geez, I had no idea I’d asked such a hard question.”
“Sorry, I guess you could say I’m on holiday.” Rachel realised her answer sounded a bit odd, so immediately directed the same question back to Liz. “You?”
“I’m working my way around this lovely warm country of yours.”
There was an awkward pause, filled only with the noise of the television.
“So, where are you from?” Rachel asked Liz.
“Reading in England, do you know where that is?”
Rachel shook her head.
“Don’t worry,” interrupted Brett, while still staring at the rugby, “You’re not missing anything by not knowing.”
Liz rolled her eyes. “And those two are from someplace in New Zealand no-one has ever heard of, except the unfortunate people who live there.”
“I got the New Zealand bit,” Rachel laughed. “I may not have travelled outside this country, actually I’ve never left this state, but you can’t mistake that accent.”
Jez stood up and stretched. “Beer break,” he announced. “Do you want one Rachel?”
Rachel shrugged, “Sure, why not.”
“That’s my girl, why not indeed. Off you go then, the nearest bottle shop is about one kilometre in that direction.” Jeremy pointed away from the beach.
“I have a better idea. I’ll pay if you go get it,” threw back Rachel quickly.
“But the game is on.”
“Oh and the game is more important than a young woman’s safety? Surely you don’t want a girl like me to walk all that way in the dark by myself, anything could happen.”
“Beer,” grunted Brett.
“The game,” grunted back Jez.
“Oh look I’ll go with her,” said Liz. “Besides someone’s got to show her the way, but we’re only going on the condition that you pay.” She walked over to Brett with her hand out.
He looked around her and pointed to Jez. So she walked over to him and was about to stand between him and the television but he pulled out his wallet and handed it to her.
“Now see Brett,” she said putting herself directly between Brett and the television. “That’s the kind of thing a girl likes, a guy who’s not afraid to give her his money.” As she spoke she opened the wallet, she had barely finished her sentence before it went sailing across the room, completely missing its target.
Jez picked it up and put it back in his pocket, once again without taking his eyes off the screen.
Liz turned to Rachel. “How about you and I get to know each other over a game of pool?”
“What about the beer?” Brett’s question trailed off into a stereo sounding groan with Jez.
Liz shrugged, “No money, no beer. It’s not a difficult equation to work out.” She started to walk out of the room.
“Just a sec.” Liz turned back to look at Brett. “Here.” He held out a fifty dollar note.
Liz walked back across to him. “Now that is more like it.” She lent in and kissed him.
Rachel was pretty sure that was Liz’s way of claiming Brett as hers. The crowd on the television erupted into noise at the same time as Brett and Jez started punching the air and cheering. Liz and Rachel left.
“So,” Rachel asked, “How did you and the guys meet?”
“At the hostel.”
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Rachel paused. “I guess I just assumed you guys must have been friends for ages you seem really comfortable together and you and Brett seem really close.”
Liz laughed. “That depends on your definition of ages. I’ve been here for three months and they were already here when I got here, but you could say that Brett and I are really close, for the moment.”
“Why just for the moment?”
“Well, I’ll be out of here in a couple of weeks, three actually and I assume they will be staying.”
“Both of them?”
“Sure they’re best mates, practically inseparable since birth, as best as I can tell. Though there are some things they do separately.” Liz lit a cigarette. “Sometimes I think it would be great to have a friend like that and sometimes I’m glad I don’t. Thing is when you travel like this you make friends easily. It’s the staying in touch once you’ve gone your own ways that’s tougher”
Rachel was thinking about what Liz had said. “Won’t you miss him though?”
“Brett? Sure, I mean the sex is pretty great but there are plenty more guys out there. I like being free to pick and choose don’t you? Guys have had it that way for ages so I think it’s only fair that we can have the same attitude to it. Can you believe in this day and age it still seems okay for a guy to go home with a different girl every weekend but if a girl does it she’s a slut?” Liz paused.
Rachel didn’t say anything she was content to let Liz keep talking.
“I’m not ready to settle down with any one person yet. I plan on enjoying myself the whole time I’m here. There will be plenty of time for serious relationships and commitment when I get back home.”
Liz took a few drags on her cigarette before changing the topic to different people she had met in her travels and some of the things she had done. Rachel was wishing she was older. She was beginning to think she’d love to travel around the world like Liz was doing, but she didn’t think airlines would let her travel alone without parental permission while she was still only sixteen. Even if she could physically get on the plane she wouldn’t be able to pay for all of it. She’d have to work her way around like Liz was doing which might prove to be a whole other problem, she wasn’t so sure she’d be able to get jobs. When she was older though it was definitely something she was going to look into.
When they got to the bottle shop Rachel said she’d wait outside. She was pretty sure she looked old enough, she’d bought alcohol before but it wasn’t a risk she wanted to take here and now for several reasons, one of which was Liz. In the brief time she had known her she decided she liked the British girl and didn’t want to cause her any problems.
Liz came out carrying a carton. Rachel was wondering how long it was going to take them to get back to the hostel carrying that. The two of them hadn’t even walked out of the car park when Liz put the carton down.
“What are you going to do, drink half of them before we get back?”
Liz laughed, “No but I like the way you think.” She ripped the carton open and handed Rachel two six packs. She threw the exterior carton in the bin and picked up the other two six packs. “It’s much easier to carry them this way, don’t you agree?” They started walking back to the hostel. “So tell me something about yourself.”
“Like what?” asked Rachel.
“I don’t know, anything.”
“Uh, well I was born in mining country, lived there all my life. I don’t have a boyfriend and agree with you I should be able to sleep with whoever I want.”
“Good for you.”
The girls continued a light conversation on the way back to the hostel. Liz stopped Rachel just outside the door. She put the beer down and reached into her pocket, pulling out two miniature bottles of vodka. Rachel put her beer down and accepted the little bottle. Unscrewing the lid Liz chinked hers on the one Rachel was holding. “Cheers,” and raised it to her mouth.
Rachel followed suit wincing slightly as the vodka hit the back of her throat, warming her on its way down.
“There is a bin just inside, we’ll get rid of the evidence there.” Liz screwed the lid back on the now empty bottle and put it back in her pocket. They dropped their bottles off on the way through to rejoining the guys.
They had barely walked in the room before Jez had his hand out, “Beer.”
Rachel headed for the chair on the other side of him and handed him one on her way passed.
Rachel couldn’t remember ever having such a fun night. Once the rugby was over they sat around drinking, talking and laughing at the television. Jez was actually quite cute Rachel decided once she had a good look at him. Both guys had great bodies and Rachel could see why Liz had hooked up with Brett, they looked good together. Jez looked a bit more serious than Brett, though Rachel wasn’t quite sure that was the word she was looking for. Maybe he just didn’t look like as much trouble.
“Geez get a room.” Jez flicked the lid from his fresh bottle of beer at Liz and Brett. They ignored him. “Let’s leave these two alone, it seems they have forgotten there are other people in this room. I’m going to go out for a smoke, do you want to join me?”
Rachel followed Jez outside. He offered her a joint. “No thanks,” she said as she shook her head. “I was just being polite, I figured they could use the privacy. I think that was one of those situations where they say three is a crowd.”
“You could be right. Brett is up for a lot of stuff but that I’m not sure about. Oh who am I kidding, of course he’d be up for it.”
“He may be but I’m not and I don’t think Liz would appreciate it somehow.” Rachel wasn’t entirely comfortable with the direction the conversation was going.
“Here hold this,” Jez held the joint out to her. “I don’t think they will be needing their spare beers so we may as well make use of them.”
He disappeared inside, reappearing a minute later with four bottles. Rachel gave him back his joint and grabbed another beer. She knew she didn’t need anymore, the vodka had certainly done its job, but she didn’t care. She was here to have fun, to do what she wanted, when and how she wanted. No-one was going to tell her off or lecture her here. Besides technically she was still celebrating her big escape, so she took another long swig of beer and savoured the taste of freedom.

Journey Home - Entry 6

The funeral was two weeks ago today and it’s still hard for me to accept Jessica won’t be coming home. I suppose only time can bring about that sort of acceptance.
It’s strange I know but I can’t help feeling she’s only away on holidays or over at Bree’s or Mum’s. Sometimes it even feels like she is just off playing somewhere and I expect her to come barrelling through the back door at any minute, dirty and bloody from climbing a tree or exploring.
She wasn’t a very girly girl. Dolls and ribbons weren’t really her thing. I suppose she got that from me. Physical stuff though, now that she loved. I took her to gymnastics classes once a week and she was trying to convince me that she needed to join the swimming club. I wish I’d let her. It might have put us in a different place that day.
When she was in a quiet mood she would play with her teddy bears, read or do something creative. She loved art, she had so many drawing and colouring books, scrap books filled with her own pictures.
But the feeling she’s out playing doesn’t last for very long before I once again realise it’s just not so. She is never again going to come running through the back door to give me a muddy hug, or any other door for that matter.
Sometimes I find myself wondering if it would have been easier if she’d been sick. That serious, terminal kind of sick where you’ve been told your child will only live so long. I guess though I probably wouldn’t have handled that any better. It probably would have been worse. I wouldn’t have liked to see her suffer and at least with the way she died, she didn’t. That’s what they told me anyway. I suppose I can always be grateful for that – but in reality?
Every day spent with your child is precious, special. There are times it doesn’t seem that way I know, but now I spend hours wishing I had just a little extra time with her. The thing is no matter how she died, even if I had of known her days were numbered, I would still feel as though she had been stolen from me.

Journey Home - Entry 5

I was saying yesterday that being at home isn’t any easier than being at my parents place. Well I’ve been thinking about that and I’ve come to realise in some ways it is. Oh there are certainly ways in which it isn’t but there is a sort of balance here I don’t get at Mum’s.
Sure there are far more things here to remind me of Jessie; her clothes, toys, photos of her, even a certificate from school that’s still on the fridge door (I’m obviously not the only one who thought she was wonderful).
All those things and the memories they bring are balanced out by the freedom I have here to grieve. The freedom I have to get angry and even cry. The freedom to scream and to throw things. In fact to express any of the number of emotions I can go through in one day, who am I kidding – in one hour. When I’m by myself I don’t have to watch what I do. I don’t have to constantly be aware of others watching and worrying about me. I can just feel without really having to think about it.
I’m not sure if it is better being here. I think it is. It’s got to be better to have the freedom to express my feelings rather than having to keep a close guard on them. The problem is I don’t think anywhere is a good place to be at the moment.

Difficult Path of Faith

I keep banging up against a problem. I sit in church and nearly every week hear prayer requests for healing and financial break through accompanied by words that say God answers all prayers and can take care of all problems. That He can do it isn’t the issue, that He will do it? Well that’s another matter entirely and one my life doesn’t seem to bear out.
God has definitely shown up in my life, somehow we’ve always managed to pay the bills and have food on the table but living the blessed life as western religion seems to paint as the goal, I’m not close to attaining that. No matter how much we prayed for a financial breakthrough (whether lotto or work using our gifts or talents) in all our time together my hubby and I haven’t even been able to both be working full time at the same time. My husband gets a job and God tells me to stop working. I think I can’t possibly be hearing right and all of a sudden in the space of a week or so I go from being a valued employee to don’t give her any work. And that has been the pattern of our marriage.
The truth is I don’t know God’s plan, I wish I did, but I do know that every time I let go of the things I really enjoy, like writing and performing, I always come back to them and yet I haven’t had a break through in either of those areas.
Lack of monetary windfall isn’t the only thing. Healing is another big one. When my mother was diagnosed the last time with the cancer they’d missed a short time previously riddled through her body, they told her time was short. What was my prayer? I’m sure I did pray for healing but I remember knowing almost straight away that healing wasn’t going to happen. My prayer then became ‘fine, take her if you must but she lives long enough to see her first grandchild.’ I wasn’t pregnant at the time, though we had started trying but as everyone knows that doesn’t mean a lot. Long story short our daughter was three months old when my mother died. Right to the end people were praying for healing and telling her she was going to be fine. Someone even suggested the reason she hadn’t been healed was that her faith wasn’t strong enough. Do you have any idea what that does to a person? Besides if anyone had faith it was my mother. It might be worth remembering here that the bible says;

He replied, “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can
say to this mulberry tree ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea’ and
it will obey you.
Luke 17:6

It seems to me it’s us who try to quantify faith not God. Faith is faith, I just wonder if we think of faith as a form of currency and expect to get a certain payout from it.
It’s like we forget that sometimes God’s answer is no. Paul asked for the thorn in his side to be removed three times and God said no (2 Cor 12:7 & 8). Jesus asked that the cup be taken from him, and that didn’t happen either (Luke 22:39-46). It also may be an idea to remember that after Christ was baptised the first thing the Spirit did was drive him into the desert for forty days (Matt 4:1-11). Most of us haven’t gone without anything for that length of time, not anything that really mattered; food, shelter, heat. Of course there are those who have but for a majority of us professing faith in the western world, we wouldn’t know what that was like. Jesus went from affirmation to extreme difficulty.
The other thing that goes hand in hand with this is temptation. We are often told that Christ was tempted in every way (not all in the desert would be my guess) but do we ever think about what that means. Obviously we think about sex but that doesn’t come close to covering all kinds of temptation. We can be tempted financially, by what our idea of success is, by comfort or stuff. Not everyone’s weakness is the same thing.
We seem to be under the impression that God’s will for us is comfort and convenience. Where do we get that from?
I suppose comfort is relative. A lot of us have a roof over our heads, clothes to wear and food in our stomachs, yet still we strive for other things to make our lives more comfortable. How many people would just like to have enough food in their bellies or clean drinking water?
We also like things to be convenient, fast food, fast cars, fast communication. When things happen to disrupt any number of things in our lives, like just when you start to save for a holiday the car breaks down, we get pissed. Or maybe that’s just another one of those things that only applies to me.
There have been times in my life when I’ve wondered if God has dropped the ball. Even times when I’ve been convinced I was doing what God wanted me to do and things have still gone somewhat pear shaped, not even close to working out the way I figured they would. I thought by doing God’s will, blessings would rain down on me and I would finally have some of the things I wanted like some sort of financial security or professional success. You really only need to read the bible to realise what a screwy idea that is. I’m not saying it doesn’t happen and I’m still hoping and praying for both those things, with times of varying frustration admittedly, but I’m working on not making my happiness or contentment reliant on those things happening. I’m working on walking the path that Paul walked all those years ago:

I know what it is to be in need and I know what it is to have
plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and
every situation whether well fed or hungry, whether living in
plenty or in want.
Phil 4:12

I’m sure more want to walk the path that’s smooth, the one where money falls out of the sky. I’m being facetious, I know money doesn’t fall out of the sky, but I do know people who just seem to think about wanting something and someone gives it to them. My own daughter has a tendency to say she wants something and gets it from people who didn’t even know she wanted it. Even complete strangers give her stuff. It’s hard to be jealous of your own daughter though, especially when I want the best for her and can’t afford to give her everything she wants.
Not that I think it’s particularly wise to give kids everything they want. In the same way we don’t give our kids everything they ask for God doesn’t give us everything we ask for. He doesn’t explain it to us but we have to trust He knows better, it’s like those times we do things our kids don’t like because we know better. But knowing that doesn’t necessarily make accepting it any easier.
We want things to go our way all the time but unfortunately life isn’t like that. David spent years being hunted by Saul, Moses spent years tending sheep in the desert, Job lost all he had, Paul was jailed, John was exiled and Jesus gave his life. All were faithful people but they were also people who experienced hardship. In the words of James:

Consider it pure joy my brothers, whenever you face trials of many
kinds because you know that the testing of your faith develops
perseverance. Perseverance must finish it’s work so that you may be
mature and complete, not lacking in anything.
James 1:2-4

We don’t like to think about verses like these because lets face it who wants to persevere in trials. That doesn’t change the fact those verses are there or that it is a call placed before all Christians. Notice it doesn’t say you’ll live in overwhelming financial abundance and physical perfection. It says you won’t lack, which suggests to me need not want and need can be relative.
This call for perseverance manifests differently for each of us and I don’t know why but if I had to guess I’d say it was because God has different callings for each of us. Different people can survive different things and different people can prosper in different circumstances. We all walk different paths but we don’t walk them alone. God said he would never leave us or forsake us and as an added bonus He brings people into our lives to journey with us, some for the short term and some for the long haul.
We may not like it but journey on we must if we wish to grow, to live and not just exist. The path isn’t always easy and even though I’ve taken detours along the way I always find myself back on this path because God is true to is word and has never given me more than I can handle, as long as I remember I don’t have to handle it alone.

The Oasis - Ch 5

Once in the city Rachel found the library, she needed to make some phone calls and didn’t want to leave her bags out in the open too long. She took out her list of possible places to stay and started dialling. The first two places were full, the third place wanted identification. Rachel hung-up, she hadn’t contemplated the possibility she would need anything like that just to stay somewhere. She had no idea what she was going to do. She hadn’t thought is would be so difficult to find a place to stay.
Rachel left the library and went back to the station. She was feeling hungry and had seen a bakery there. She bought herself a pie and walked over to a little grassed area where people were smoking. She sat down to eat and think. She finished the pie and looked through her purse hoping for an answer to slap her in the face. There it was, her mother’s credit card. The card only had her mother’s first names initialled on it, and they happened to be the same initials as Rachel’s own. The first names weren’t the same, her mum was Renae Leanne, but maybe it would be enough.
Rachel went back to the phones. She put her name down at the first place with a vacancy and asked directions. It was a bit risky but she was hoping that when she turned up they’d be unwilling to refuse her. She had to wait twenty minutes for the right bus but in less than an hour she was checking in to the Sunshine Coast Backpackers.
When they asked for ID she said she didn’t have a passport and had been waiting for her new licence to arrive back home but she had a credit card and hoped that would be alright. There was a slight hesitation by the young man behind the counter so she added that she was planing on paying in cash for two weeks up front if they would take it. The guy smiled and handed over the forms. She signed but added a couple of years to her age, and didn’t hesitate to leave her home number, she knew no-one would pick it up. No-one was home and her parents had given her a private line when she turned fourteen, and they never answered that, plus before she’d left she’d disconnected her answering machine. Rachel was starting to feel as though she may have pulled off her big escape.
The place wasn’t very fancy but she wasn’t paying for fancy, she was paying for a place to stay and be dry, or more importantly somewhere to keep cool, rain in January was unlikely to be an issue. The backpackers was two stories comprising of a communal kitchen and two living areas one with a television and one without, the second had a pool table. They were both downstairs along with the office and a toilet. Upstairs were two rooms containing ten beds and four bathrooms. There was a garden out the back with some chairs, a table, a hammock and a washing line. There was no laundry, Rachel had been told the nearest laundromat was two streets away, and she supposed she could wash her clothes in the sink or shower.
Rachel carted her gear into the girl’s dorm. She unpacked her beach towel and hung it over the end of her bed like a couple of other people had done. She figured at least that way they would know the bed was now someone’s. Looking around she realised it may take a while to get used to these living arrangements. As an only child she had never had to share her room with anyone before, so sharing with nine other people was going to be a big change.
As she took in her surroundings she noticed clothes hanging over bed ends and on window ledges, Rachel wasn’t sure if they were there to dry out or just air out. There were a couple of closed backpacks pushed neatly under beds, most though seemed open and half under the beds, as if their owners had kicked them out of the way as they left. Rachel suddenly felt a little self conscious about having a suitcase rather than a backpack but the guy at reception hadn’t commented so maybe she wasn’t too out of place.
The whole place seemed to have an air of freedom about it and it suddenly hit her that she no longer had to think about having parents looking over her shoulder. Her parents were now officially no longer part of her life.
Her bed had a pillow and a thin blanket but no sheets. Rachel had another look around the room, every bed but hers had a sleeping bag on it. She didn’t have one and to be honest it wasn’t something she’d even thought about. With no idea where to get a sleeping bag from she looked at her watch and thought if she was lucky she would be able to get something to sleep on from the supermarket near where the bus had dropped her off. She quickly got some money out of one of her socks, closed and locked her case, pushed it under the bed and headed off for the shops.
Rachel smiled to herself as she walked. She had done it. She was away from abusive and non-caring relatives and unbelieving parents. It was summer time and she was staying about one and a half kilometres away from the beach. No-one had called her bluff or even asked awkward questions. Things were definitely looking up.
She got to the shops just before they closed but that was fine she wasn’t planning on being long. She bought a cheap set of sheets figuring they would do until she got around to buying a sleeping bag. Anything else could wait for another day or so, she had shelter, all the clothes she would need for a while and access to food. The guy at the hostel’s front desk, Tony she thought his name was, had told her breakfast was included in the price but it was nothing fancy; cereal, toast, tea or coffee, so she figured she had until lunch time tomorrow to work out what she was going to do about the rest of her meals. It was tempting to think it wouldn’t be an issue because she had plenty of money but she wasn’t going to allow herself that luxury. Having no idea how long her money would have to last she was determined to use it wisely.
However the planning and being careful could wait until tomorrow because dinner on the beach was looking like a mighty fine idea as she walked back to the hostel. It was easy to convince herself that she deserved at least one celebratory meal. First though she took her sheets upstairs and made the bed. Still no-one else was in the dorm but a few things looked different so she assumed someone had been there. She grabbed a lightweight jacket and left again, this time heading towards the ocean.
The sun was still fairly high over the horizon when Rachel reached the beach and not being really hungry she decided to take her shoes off and go for a walk along the shore. The sun was warm, the breeze brisk and the water felt great as it lapped at her feet when the waves washed up onto the sand. Breathing in the salty sea air Rachel felt things were getting better by the minute, for the first time in years she wasn’t feeling dread on her first night away.
She briefly wondered if her parents even knew she hadn’t turned up at the farm. Then decided she didn’t actually care. If they had have cared the way they should’ve they wouldn’t have continued to send her back to the one place that gave her nightmares. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have them very often anymore, it mattered that she had them at all. Then of course there were the inerasable memories. In one of her more imaginative moments Rachel wondered if there was a way to selectively erase someone’s memories like they did in the movies.
Rachel, starting to feel hungry walked away from the water’s edge, found herself a seafood takeaway place. She bought some fish and chips, a coke and went and sat on the beach to eat her dinner as the sun set.
‘This is perhaps,’ Rachel thought, ‘the most perfect moment I have ever experienced in my life.’
It was well after the last of the sun’s rays had left the sky when Rachel started back to the hostel. Things felt so good. She didn’t have to be afraid of the night anymore. She didn’t have to crawl into bed wondering if Trevor was going to come into her room or if he was going to draw it out in anticipation. He was the nastiest person she had ever met, yet the people closest to him thought he could do no wrong.
Even her own mother hadn’t believed what she had said about him. Not that she had been completely surprised by that. Trevor had told her people wouldn’t believe her but she guessed deep down she felt her mother should have believed her above other family members. To the best of her knowledge her mother had dismissed what she had said outright, never even giving it a second thought. Not for a minute giving her daughter the benefit of the doubt.
That had been Trevor’s ace, and probably the thing that hurt many rape victims. People simply didn’t want to believe someone they knew would be capable of something like that.

Journey Home - Entry 4

I came back home today. My home I mean. Since Jessica died I’ve been staying with my parents and that’s been fine but I know it’s been hard on them as well as on me. I haven’t exactly been the best of house guests. When you are surrounded twenty four hours a day, seven days a week by people who are treading on eggshells because they’re concerned about you, let’s just say it can make for a somewhat stressful situation.
I love my parents dearly. I really do. They’ve always been there for me. They certainly would never kick me out or say I was an inconvenience. It’s just, I don’t know, I feel I can’t keep staying there, relying on them and disrupting their home life. It also feels as though I’m hiding from the truth in some way. I’ve never been one to run away from a situation and as hard as it is for me, I know I shouldn’t start now.
Being back here is really difficult. There are so many things that remind me of Jessica and I don’t know what to do about them. In my head I know I should do something with her stuff, perhaps even something constructive like give some of it away. But in my heart, well my heart doesn’t want to let go, of any of it. It’s all I have left of her. I mean on one hand I know I have no further use for those things but on the other I’m scared to let them go. Scared that if I give them away I’ll be giving her away. It’s really difficult to explain but when I think about it I feel as though I am betraying her somehow. Giving her things away seems so final. I honestly don’t think I’m ready for that.
The really silly thing is I can’t even bring myself to go into her bedroom. Here I am thinking of giving her stuff away or rather how I would be betraying her if I did, yet I can’t even bring myself to look at it.
I didn’t really expect coming home to be this hard. For some reason I was expecting things to be better if I was in my own place, but they’re not. I don’t even know why I thought it would be easier here but I did, and I came back only to find out just how wrong I was. I spoke to Mum about it, all of it including the toys and stuff, and she said I wasn’t being silly. She said how I was feeling was perfectly normal considering the circumstances and I shouldn’t rush things. I should only do them when I felt I was ready.
I like her advice but if I followed it I might not even get out of bed in the morning. Besides how will I know when I’m ready? Will I wake up one day and say to myself ‘I think I’m ready to go through Jessie’s things today’? Maybe a better question at this point is; how can I know if I’ll ever be ready?
I suppose I’ll just have to do what Brianna suggested, cliché or not, and take it one day at a time.
The other thing Mum said was if I wanted to go back my old room at their place was still available. She hadn’t converted it back into her sewing room yet. I think she was trying to make me laugh, it didn’t really work. It did make me smile though. I know she wasn’t being serious, my mother only sews when the mood hits and a rough estimation of how often that happens is about once every three or four years.
I turned down the offer. I have made my decision and I am determined to try and stick it out. I’ve been told I can be quite stubborn at times.

31 Bible Women and The Lessons We Can Learn From Them

Eve – Women share God’s image and were created to be man’s helpmate, partner.
Sarah – God can do what we cannot see as possible and he responds to faith even in the midst of failure.
Lot’s Wife – Disobeying a direct order from God can change our lives forever, actions speak louder than words and stuff is temporary, life in Christ is eternal.
Rebekah – God can use even our mistakes.
Rachel – Envy and competitiveness can ruin relationships and love isn’t earned.
Jocabed (Moses’ Mother) – We can hold our frightening and seemingly impossible situations to God and he work things out.
Miriam – A single life can be used mightily by God, and motives behind criticism are often more important than the criticism itself.
Rahab – Our past doesn’t determine our future, faith that is demonstrated is remembered.
Deborah – God chooses leaders by His standards not ours and wise leaders choose wise helpers.
Delilah – The love of a man is to be treasured, silver and gold aren’t good company, weaknesses should be strengthened not exposed.
Ruth – Putting yourself first doesn’t always get the best results.
Hannah – God hears and answers prayers and our children are gifts from God.
Abigail – Anyone can play a significant role regardless of their position and life’s trials can bring out the best in people.
Michal – We are not as responsible for what happens to us as we are for how we respond to our circumstances.
Bathsheba – We are responsible for how we deal with things even when we feel caught up in them, a sin may seem small but there can be consequences far beyond measure and even in the worst situations God can bring good.
Woman with oil – God can use what little you have to bless you beyond measure if you trust Him and listen to Him.
Esther – God has a purpose for the situations in which he places us and serving God often demands we risk our own security.
Mary (Jesus' mother)– God’s plans involve extraordinary events in ordinary people’s lives and a person’s character is revealed by their response to the unexpected.
Elizabeth – God’s timetable and methods don’t always conform to our expectations.
Mary – The busyness of serving God can become a barrier to knowing him personally.
Martha – There is a proper time to listen to Jesus and a proper time to work for him and getting caught up in the details can make us forget the main reasons for our actions.
Mary Magdalene – Jesus relates to women, women have a part to play in His ministry and those who are obedient grow in understanding.
The sinful woman (alabaster jar) - Small acts of obedience and service have widespread effects.
Woman with blood issue – Determination and a little faith go a very long way and have the courage to stand for what you want.
Woman at the well – Don’t be afraid to ask questions, thirst (curiosity) is a gift from God, and the good water is meant to be shared not hoarded.
Lydia – God can work with your abundance if you give it to him and he will do great things if you open up yourself and resources to Him.
Sapphira – Pride and generosity don’t mix and it’s not necessary to give in public, give privately God still knows.
Pricilla : God can and will use women to teach.
Dorcas : True faith is active.
Phoebe : God calls us to serve humbly and to serve always.
Junia : God uses women in all aspects of ministry, God doesn’t limit us.

Motherhood

Motherhood is on my mind at the moment. We have a beautiful little girl who is in pre-primary and our baby is about to turn one. I love my children with the most amazing love but you know what? Motherhood isn’t something that I feel has come easy to me. I always expected to have kids and yes I wanted them but when our first daughter arrived I discovered something about myself. In fact I discovered a lot about myself, but the thing I want to focus on is the fact that motherhood didn’t seem to make me glow. I didn’t resent my daughter, I didn’t suffer from postnatal depression but I also didn’t want to devote my all to my family. Why I thought I had to I couldn’t say, maybe some people do and maybe something in my mind said that’s what was supposed to happen when you became a mother. Well it didn’t. I must admit that over time there were things I saw other mothers do that made me wonder if there was something wrong with me because I didn’t have the desire to do them. In the end I simply came to the conclusion that I still had a life to live. I had a job before I had our daughter but it wasn’t a career so going back to work wasn’t a big thing for me, in fact I loved being a stay at home mum, I just needed other things to do as well.
Motherhood changes you, it should change all parents but for me it didn’t make my life complete. It didn’t seem to come naturally to me as it did to others. It wasn’t that our daughter was a problem child, though she didn’t seem to need to sleep as much as other babies – always wanting to be involved, but it didn’t take me long to realise I needed space. Just a little time where I could still be involved in the activities I enjoyed before she came along. I was, and still am, very fortunate to have a husband who understood that and was more than willing to take over when I needed to get out. Also I had siblings willing to baby-sit when the need arose.
I got back on the stage when my daughter was three months old. I’m sure, in fact I know some people didn’t understand it but for me that time allowed me to be a better parent when I was with her. It helped me recharge.
As mothers we all hear the greatest call of womanhood is to be a mother, the thing is so often it stops there and people don’t want to know if you’ve got anything else to offer. I just want to say here that mothers have a lot to offer. Sure we’re responsible for raising our kids, both parents should be – though reality is far from that ideal. Teaching manners, discipline, ethics, morals, life skills, it’s a long term lifestyle choice and a worthy one but you know not all mothers are the mothering stereotype. Don’t misunderstand me, parents need to be parents, I think trying to be your child’s friend instead is a dangerous thing, but being a mother doesn’t stop you being the person you were before (hopefully though it changed some bad habits if you had them).
Motherhood in the church isn’t quite the same as in general society, society is accepting the fact women are still multifaceted after they have children however it doesn’t always feel that way with the church. Or at least it hasn’t for me. This isn’t necessarily a deliberate or even conscious thing. It could very well be unspoken influence and pressure from previous generations, it could be just mostly in my mind. We have gone to churches where my husband, being a musician, is asked to join the music team and it just gets assumed that I will do kids ministry. Here’s a news flash for you, I’m not that great with other people’s kids. But you know what, I’m okay with that. Now. For a while I felt I should want to do it and be happy to do it, after all that’s what mothers do. But I don’t. I will help out because I am a parent and kids ministry often needs people to do that but please don’t expect, or ask, me to be a leader. Don’t just assume that’s where I belong, take the time to find out where I fit. If the church is a body (1 Cor 12:12-30) then we need to remember that there are many things that make up a body, not everyone is an eye.
Motherhood is a big commitment, one no-one should enter into lightly – sadly many do. It’s a lifetime thing but we need to remember children change our lives, add to them, they don’t stop them.
I’m glad I chose to be a stay at home mum even though it hasn’t always been easy, and although I’m a mother I know God has a call on my life as an individual. I am responsible for being the best mother I can but that is not all I have to offer. We all need to allow ourselves the permission to say to ourselves that ‘it’s alright for me to define myself and find value apart from motherhood.’ God calls us to different things; teachers, intercessors, counsellors, friends, the list is endless. He has gifted us all differently. I’m not talking down motherhood, I simply want to let you know that it’s okay to not match up to the ideal you may have had. It’s okay to be a mother and still want to pursue your other God given paths.
Look at Proverbs 31.
Sometimes we interpret that chapter as meaning we can have our cake and eat it too. Well for most of us it’s not that simple. Having a family means you learn to adjust and compromise and unfortunately we put ourselves last – it’s common to hear or read about how we need to learn to put ourselves first occasionally so we are able to give out. If you are empty you have nothing to give. I think a lot us know that we’re just not so good at doing it.
But back to Proverbs 31.
This woman has a family, a husband and a business (a couple in fact), she looks after the house and is a godly woman. I look at all the things she does and I wonder how she finds the time, just thinking about all of that exhausts me. I’d like to think though that through this chapter God is letting us know that all of these things are possible for us. Not all of us will have all of them and we shouldn’t expect to, but all things are possible, we don’t need to feel limited in our hopes and goals for our lives.
In western society women are far less oppressed than in other societies and that is due to the women who came before us, who fought for the rights and freedom we experience today. It’s also worth noting that right from the beginning God gave women an important place in society. God created women not as slaves but as an ezer kenegdo – which has mostly been translated to mean helper but according to ‘Captivating’ by John and Stasi Eldredge a better translation would be ezer – lifesaver and kenegdo – alongside/counterpart. Now doesn’t that sound a lot more powerful. God created women to be lifesaving counterparts, we are not an afterthought or a second class citizen. Right from the beginning God empowered women. We need to turn to him as our God and Saviour, our King and ask what is it you want me to do? Then we need to listen to what he says. We don’t need to hide our light. Our God calls us to shine, to be the best mother’s yes but also the best women, best daughters of the king we can be.
You are loved, you are valued, you are called.

Journey Home - Entry 3

I didn’t do too well yesterday. My emotions got the better of me, but as far as I‘m concerned there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Women are emotional and I’ve just gone through... am going through, a highly emotional period in my life. Look at me I must be a mess I’m apologising to a book for crying out loud.
Anyway moving on. I have this crazy notion I should write down some of my story. Who knows this may even help me. I’m not sure how but hey, the experts say it’s good not to keep it all inside and I guess they can’t all be wrong.
I wouldn’t say I had a sheltered life but I certainly didn’t run with the wild crowd. I didn’t see the point and not being one of the really popular kids meant I didn’t get pressured to conform to the latest phase. Which probably wasn’t a bad thing as I doubt my parents would have let me go along with half of them. Actually I suppose you could cover it all by saying my school years were pretty average. Some things I did well, some I didn’t. Some days were good and others not so good. There were people I got along well with and others I didn’t. I got teased but heck who hasn’t been at some point in time. I learnt to ignore some of it and occasionally I even managed to get my own back.
On the home front I loved my parents and they loved me, still do in fact. I have a sister, Brianna and a brother Stephen. Both are younger than me and apart from regular sibling rivalry and bickering we got along great. Though I suppose that depends on your definition of normal sibling rivalry. I guess that’s another one of those things which becomes clearer with the perspective of time.
Every Sunday our parents took us to church. I grew up believing in God, mostly because it was a given fact in our house. It was something we just knew and never really questioned. Truthfully though, by the time I was old enough to question it my belief and faith were very much a part of my life. I officially committed my life to Christ, as they say, when I was twelve. It was at an Easter camp and it somehow seemed like the right thing to do. I did it because I felt I needed a point of reference for my faith, something definite I could look back on and say, “That was when…”
I never once let go of my faith. Until now. Not even when I found out I was pregnant. I never once blamed God for that. I didn’t need to, plenty of others tried doing that for me. Instead knowing I had Him to rely on, to lean on, really helped me through what was a very difficult time.
The pregnancy wasn’t a difficult one, just the circumstances. My favourite bible verse at the time was Psalm 46:1 ‘God is our refuge and our strength, a very present help in trouble.’ For a young Christian girl being pregnant out of marriage seemed to be a definitive description of trouble.
My family were all so wonderful, so supportive. Right from the word go there was never any question of me giving up the child. Not for abortion or adoption. Adoption was mentioned but I didn’t think I would be able to give my baby up despite the circumstances. Abortion though was never an option, not for me. I had a tiny little life growing inside me and there was no way I would have been able to bring myself to get rid of it.
Little Jessica Emily was born in March the year I turned nineteen. She was so tiny and from the moment I saw her I knew I had made the right decision. I had a love for my little girl that had begun from the time I found out about her. Sure I went through ups and downs during the pregnancy, what woman doesn’t? By eight months I was feeling so big and heavy I was wishing she would just get out of me but not once did I consider getting rid of her.
When I first held her, before they had cleaned her up, I made up my mind the circumstances surrounding her conception would never hurt her. I was going to love her and be the best mother I possibly could. I didn’t know how but I was determined to do it.
With the support of my family I went back to university and finished my degree in teaching. I won’t say it was easy because it wasn’t. There were times I felt like giving up but I didn’t. I couldn’t. It was all because of Jessie. Well that’s what I told myself. All the hard work was worth it because of her. She was my motivation to succeed.
You know through all of that I never let go of God. Back then I thought things happened for a reason, life goes on and you play the hand you’re dealt the best way you know how. But now? I just don’t know how He could have let this happen. How can I have been blessed with Jessie only to have her snatched away after so few years? It’s just so hard to get my head around it.

Brief Moments - 2

From You

Inspiration
Comes from you Lord
It sets my heart ablaze

Desire
Comes from you Lord
The deep longing in me grows

Passion
Comes from you Lord
It stirs my spirit up

Peace
Comes from you Lord
As I seek to do your will

Joy
Comes from you Lord
As I walk with you each day

You Love Me

You love me because you love me
Not because of anything I can do
That love is so incredible
Sometimes it’s hard to believe it’s true

You love me because you love me
A most amazing thing
The feeling fills me up
Sometimes I just want to sing

You love me because you love me
You who made the world
Care about my coming and going
Even though I’m just one girl

You love me because you love me
You value me for me
At times it’s hard to accept
I wonder what it is you see

You love me because you love me
True unconditional love
I’m coming to understand what it means
To know you as my Father above

Amazed By You

I see the way your face lights up
When you master something new
It fills my heart with love and pride
As I’m amazed by you

The tiny body you started with
Gets bigger by the day
You rolled and crawled, now stand and walk
As you explore the world and play

Sometimes you sit and play transfixed
With whatever is close at hand
Other times you’re always on the go
Finding fun and mischief wherever you can

I love to sit and watch you learn
As you face new things and do
The same as every child does
I’m constantly amazed by you

Our Prayer For You

Our hearts were joined
From before we met
It was all going to change
Though it hadn’t sunk in yet

When we first took you home
We were a bit unsure
Of how we would cope
With all the things in store

Each day you bring joy
And some days tears
That won’t change I’m sure
Throughout the years

You’re a true blessing from God
An answer to prayer
Just so you know
We’ll always be there

Some things will go wrong
More will go right
When you need a hug
We’ll be there day or night

As the years come and go
We’ll pray God’s guidance for us and you
So we can be good parents
That’s our prayer for you

It’s In

It’s in the little things
That love is often found
The fleeting, passing touches
And the gentle whispered sounds

It’s the flowers that you gave
For no reason at all
The times when you are running late
And give me a call

It’s in the times when I am tired
And you do the dishes for me
And on the rare occasions
You surprised me by cooking tea

It’s when you really want a massage
But gave one to me instead
And got up to our daughter
Letting me stay warm in bed

It’s in the many little things
I seldom think about
If I just stood back and saw them
I’d know there is no cause for doubt