Friday, 13 February 2015

here lies the miracle unfolding

I wonder if it has become an almost idealistic approach. Stepping out of the boat, taking the risk. You know, everyone talks about it but rare few mention the hard nitty gritty that it brings.

I am sure that in the long run I will see the bigger picture, I am sure one day I will be able to look back and understand this long haul, but here and now it sure as anything isn't like what you imagine.

Then again, what do you imagine? I don't know - but it sure wasn't this.

It's been not far off of 7 weeks, and with each day that ticks by I wonder where all this is really going. Because this treading into the unknown mostly just feels like the nowhere at all.

It's not like there's no light at the end of the tunnel - it's like there's no tunnel at all. And I have grown impatient. Informing God that this just cannot do and really He just has to do something about it all.

Give me some direction. Some purpose. A dream even?

And yet I come back to this word, thrive - it's like it sits just slightly above, in such a manner as to say it isn't within my attainability. I circle it, wondering as to how it can become something I see flowing from within me. How can I become one whom thrives? Especially when I am actually not even exactly certain as to what thriving really looks like.

But somehow it isn't this useless want for the future. Or this ridiculous hunt for something more.

Somehow it all IS about the nitty gritty. It is about the rolling up of the sleeves, and the getting down into the dirt. Somehow it is about taking a STAND when we are being told to sit, it is about rising when the night is still dark, it is a call to show up right where you are.

It is about recognising each and everything as the good and Holy work I am called to do. It is about not disqualifying or discounting or excusing myself. Somehow it is about becoming attentive to myself.

It is about learning to shut everything else down once in a while and sit with a blank screen and a blinking cursor...

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right until the words begin to fall again.

It is about waiting up and praying hard. Not out of worry but out of faith.

It is a call to serve, and serve fully. even when i hate it.

Even when I feel demeaned, and demoralised, disrespected and dishonoured. Even when I know it is a marvel for it to have been formed by these hands, but yet it goes unrecognised.

It is a call to serve amidst the backchat, the gossip - the lies told and the dreams unmet.

It is a call to hug, and hug tight, when you feel like all that strength has gone. It is about being the mum you are, even without the title. The producer, the director, the manager, the assistant. It is about filling the role and filling it whole - even without the recognition or the title.

It is a call to serve, and serve fully.

because I AM.

He is.

I AM.

He is.





I can give myself permission to dread the future but only whilst that isn't destroying the Now.


I got up, and I left the tension. The tension of being pulled in two directions and not really having the choice. I left the tension of a manager incapable, to a manager nonexistent. I left a tension that left me unable to move from the exhaustion of hours that i couldn't count and breaks that just didn't seem to appear.

and I fell into the hands of a tension that rests solely on God. I pray.

He really does follow through. And I know there is not any ground to stand on when it comes to worrying, but feeling frustrated is a whole other board game and I sure can't figure the rules out myself.

You see I want a flash of lighting or a big booming voice - well atleast my frustrated head does. But my learning-to-lean heart is speaking something softer through, it is teaching me to step into and step back. Stepping into the water in of myself and stepping back in of my ideals and plans and agendas - allowing space for Him to reign.




We visited this big ol' house, Ellie and I. And her mum and dad. It was quite a trail following it around the curves and the beds. But somehow I ended up sitting and waiting at the top of the stairs whilst she stood and waited at the bottom. With about 10 floors in between.

And maybe that is what makes me worried - well not worried, not frustrated - I cannot seem to place the word, but anyhow that is what makes me scream. Because God, I really cannot stand the idea of me sitting waiting at the top of the stairs whilst you stand and wait at the bottom.

Sometimes I wonder about getting up and just going down there to find you. I really would love to abandon my post.

And yet in some sort of earth shaking miracle you stand with me there, and I keep waiting.

The storm seems to rage, often gaining momentum. But I pray that I will stand. I will be immovable. And I will thrive.

Because I AM.

and because I AM, I can.

here lies the miracle unfolding.