Stuff to Do

So the husband and I were able to get away for a 36-hour trip to Sydney. Without children, even. We went up the Sydney tower, which provides a 360°view of the city. It was breathtaking, and even more so because we went at sunset. It was a very busy place, with lots of families and tourists from many different nations. Sydney is like that. Everything is fast, busy, and frantic. Even folks who were on holidays were madly scrambling to take photos, seeing the stunning view through a lens instead of taking it all in. I like to take photos too, but I was surprised at how nobody was just looking- experiencing it.  Its a good metaphor, I think, for the way we do Advent. We plan, we schedule, we scramble to get here, to be there. Do we ever sit down and experience the tingling anticipation of the Christ child, or is what we're really anticipating the next day of Advent?  I said to my children Friday (Fried Day, in our house) "I love Jesus, but I hate Christmas." I hate

Or implied it. But you know something? There is truth there too. I encountered a beautiful truth this week, reading of David and Goliath. And decided that no longer would I panic over my own "Goliath" of the moment whatever it is. Because God's already won. I only need to trust. Though I do find it interesting that David grabbed FIVE stones. So maybe he's not so perfectly trusting after all, and that makes us more alike than I previously thought. But I digress.  So what did God have to teach me this week? He's taught me that sometimes it is necessary to say no. To walk up to the Goliath-esque to-do list, and say, "Enough."  To acknowledge that The List is NOT the boss of me, and no longer will I allow myself to be enslaved by it. My days belong to God, and I feel a beautiful peace in my soul when I hand that list over to Him, the One who has numbered each of my days, and say "I trust in Your plan more than my own." I still write The List  

Current events have been weighing heavily on me of late. Perhaps even heavier though is the knowledge that people I've known for ages aren't responding the way I would have thought.  Today, I was on my merry way home from playgroup, to clean up my house (which obviously isn't happening, but when the word strikes, you write!). As I approached a busy street in front of a school, I saw a football go over the fence, and roll across the road and come to a stop. The children were gesturing madly, with a look of desperation (isn't everything desperate when you're 9?).  I could have said, "I've got so much to do." This would not be a lie. I could have said, "Someone else will surely sort it out." Probably. I could have said, "But why should I do this for them?" Selfish, but valid question. I could have said, "That will teach them to be more careful in the future." Well, that would just be plain mean.  I didn't say

I watched this bird this morning, being chased by another bird. She wasn't watching where she was flying, she was just fleeing. She flew into the side of the house. and dropped to the deck. As I watched her just sitting there, looking around, but not getting up, I began to feel a weird connection to this poor bird.  You see, I had a terrible morning yesterday with my children. Probably the worst one ever. I hit a major wall, and all day long, I was exhausted from the guilt. Couldn't catch my breath, chest felt tight, and I couldn't lift a finger to do anything. Paralysed by stress.  Then I saw this bird, and as I sat there watching her, I felt as though I couldn't leave without seeing her be okay. I had to know it was possible to hit a wall and fly again. I literally sat at my desk, looking out the window, and talked out loud to the bird, encouraging her to get up. Telling her it was okay, that she would be fine.  You know, all the things I needed to hear but some

Life has been a bit all over the shop lately. I'm relying on my faith in God and His almighty plan for my life, while simply doing the best I can with the gifts I've been given. Sometimes that looks like being at church every Sunday, and sometimes it looks like staying at home to care for my husband and children. God's given me the gift of emotional intelligence, empathy, and insightfulness. Sometimes that looks like me seeing that my family need me to be here, and sometimes it looks like me escaping a few hours to Bible study. Neither of those things, (going/not going to church/Bible study) mean that I love God more or less. It means that I take my marriage vows to heart, and I'm simply doing the best I can to work out what that should look like with a husband who does not, at this point in time, share my faith. It's an impossibly difficult situation, but most of the time, I think I get it right.  The Christmas season is one of those times of the year which I use

In a beautifully awful kind of way, it hurts. Rather like childbirth. The truth is painful, but it gives way to a new path, a new direction.  Truth: I have not been caring for myself as I should.  Truth: I am fairly certain I have had the flu. Truth: It is taking forever to go away. Truth: I am obese.  These four truths, along with a few others which can't find words, have given birth to a new path for this tired mama.  I need to be more intentional. It's not a new thing for me. I throw myself on the altar of motherhood, thinking that I'm doing the right thing, and in the end, it never works out. I am a hollow shell, going through the motions doing all the "right" things, but feeling empty inside. I say "yes" to every single whim of all five of my family members, thinking that it's what a good wife and mother is supposed to do, without stopping to consider that every "yes" has a corresponding "no". If I'm saying "