Where I am from...

This is the speech I gave at my 21st birthday, which was last week - you may have noticed I had to change my header quote from Elizabeth Bennet's "not yet one and twenty" because I now am! It is a sort of poem - I got the idea from Elizabeth at The Merry Rose, who published hers a few momths ago now. There is also a website which explains how to write your own here. There are some explanatory notes at the bottom.

I am from the warmth of a crotcheted blanket, from vegemite on Sao biscuits and from Cruskits smeared with honey, eaten with my grandmother, hearing stories during breakfast in bed.

I am from the fragrant lavender and gardenias along our front path, the heavenly scented wisteria that drooped overhead and the weeping cherry who sways gracefully in the wind and blossoms in the spring, outside my bedroom window. I am from the creek where tadpoles were captured and from the mint and tomato plants that grew intertwined in my grandfather’s garden, sweetening the sea air.

I am from Scotch pride and from stories reported differently with every telling, some tales older than the hills and maybe a little overgrown with fiction. I am from the farm at Harry’s Creek, the post office in Yackandandah and those lost buildings of Old Tallangatta. From the little house where Grace lived and read her Bible every night and the street where bones were broken riding into a parked truck in the dark.

I am from Elizabeth’s prejudice and Mr Darcy’s pride, from Anne at Green Gables and her diamond bursts and marble halls, from Rebecca and her fairy story of Sunnybrook Farm. I am from worlds inhabited by dragons and dryads, where fey moons rise over emerald forests and epic quests for magic lions and magic rings unfold through the unlikeliest of heroes.

I am from long conversations on instant messenger programs and hours spent viewing the world through a computer screen. I am from a life with many cables attached, that yearns for the simplicity of the hand-written and the handmade.

I am from the sherry trifle for every special occasion, always with that extra dash of sherry for good measure, and from rich warm casseroles on the coldest of nights, straight out of the oven and soaking into toast.

I am from my father’s answers for a child never satisfied with not knowing why or how or when or what; from my mother’s arms around me, sacrificing her sleep when I could not, holding my hand through each time of stress or sickness or pain. I am from the games I played with my sister, the songs that we would sing, jumping of beds in our pyjamas and those old clothes we would dress up in when we were princesses or witches, nurses or brides.

I am from a second birth, a new creation of God, changed by grace and love, given yet wholly undeserved; from the Potter’s hand, which took an uncertain and unwilling heart - claimed it, reworked it and gave it purpose.

I am from a past of plenty – many smiles and tears, memories and photographs and stories. And I am from a future that will be far richer, in joy and in suffering, in wonder and in sadness and in hope, and always in love, as I discover who He made me be...


Notes:

Stanza 1: My maternal grandmother passed away when I was in Year 8. I miss her greatly, though I have strong and treasured memories of sitting up in bed with her each morning. My aunt would always bring Grandma her morning tea and the decribed biscuits (with extra ones for the little intruders) and Grandma would tell us stories of when she or her daughters were little. All the time there would be much fussing as to whether my sister and I were bundled up warm enough.

Stanza 3: The places listed as of historical significance to my mother's family. Grace was my dad's grandmother, and was something of a family matriarch. She was also the last 'born-again' Christian in my family before me. It seems doubly ironic to me that as well as inheriting her faith, I also inherited her name. (It's one of my middle names, for any one confused.) My dad broke his collarbone riding his bike down his street in the dark.

Stanza 4: Yes, in many ways, I am a 21st century girl - I love MSN, Blogger and my iPod! But I also love the satisfaction of knitting my own cushion covers, embroidering a brithday present for a friend and am looking forward to the challenge of learning to crochet this winter!

Stanza 8: A few people have questioned my use of suffering and sadness in my list of things I'm 'looking forward' to in the future. I'm not saying that I'm excited for the sad times or pain. I just know that God has a life planned for me that is going to challenge me as much as it is going to be joyful and beautiful.

How does she know?

From Disney's recent film "Enchanted", performed by Amy Adams...

Giselle: How does she know you love her?
How does she know she's yours?

Man: How does she know that you love her?

Giselle:How do you show her you love her?

Both: How does she know that you really, really, truly love her?

Giselle:It's not enough to take the one you love for granted
You must remind her, or she'll be inclined to say... "How do I know he loves me?"
"How do I know he's mine?"

Well does he leave a little note to tell you you are on his mind?
Send you yellow flowers when the sky is grey?
Heyy! He'll find a new way to show you, a little bit everyday
That's how you know, that's how you know!
He's your love...

Man: You've got to show her you need her
Don't treat her like a mind reader
Each day do something to need her
To believe you love her

Giselle:Everybody wants to live happily ever after
Everybody wants to know their true love is true...

Well does he take you out dancin' just so he can hold you close?
Dedicate a song with words in
Just for you? Ohhh!

All:He'll find his own way to tell you
With the little things he'll do
That's how you know
That's how you know!

Because he'll wear your favorite color
Just so he can match your eyes
Rent a private picnic
By the fires glow-oohh!

All:His heart will be yours forever
Something everyday will show
That's how you know
He's your love...

[I've edited it a bit, to remove all the pointless repeated lines, but I've kept any 'new' ideas]

I put this song in, because it in some ways reflects my struggles as a modern day young woman, and in others is the cause of those same struggles.

Before I became a Christian, I did think a guy's opinion was the be all and end all of my existence. I was head over heels for a guy, who probably had only one thing on his mind, and it wasn't discussing literature and music over coffee. It sounds harsh, but umm... Let's just say he moved on very quickly when I ran away scared of jumping in too fast. Because like most girls at the moment, I was torn between wanting the fairytale romance as described above to some degree and wanting everything "now", becuase that would make me whole.

Through a whole series of wonderful events, I finally got to know Jesus as my Lord and Saviour, and I forgot about most guys for a while (save one :P) - particularly because my youth group tends to seperate girls and guys in their younger years. But recently, it's been popping into my head more and more how much I would like to be in love and get married. Not because I need a guy to make whole - there's only one who can do that, and I've already fallen for Him - but because I would love to be a wife and mother. Yes, I want to have a career too (but pharmacy is a great profssion for working part time as a mother :P )

Now comes the crux of the issue. I had a crush on a guy last year, and of course it all came to nothing, once I was away from him for the summer. It was merely an attraction based on shared interests and a desire on my part to be "crossed in love" as Mr Bennet puts it in Pride and Prejudice. But this time it's a bit more serious. The guy I like is a very good friend to me, and I'm so confused as to whether I'm liked in return, or if I'm just a friend to him. Hence the song. How does one know if they are loved?

Now the song lists a whole stack of signs, most of which are very silly but the problem is that I find I start to look out for such ridiculous things. We take normal gentlemanly behaviour and think we're being singled out, or perceive a normal hug or kind word meant for affection or comfort to have romantic undercurrents attached to it. We begin to look for hidden meanings in things that didn't have any meaning in the first place.

But this friendship is too special for me to betray like that. So I'm going to be praying about this, but I'd love any thoughts or advice anyone out there has.

Whatever you do?

I was really challenged last night on what I do each day and the way I use my time.

"And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him." (Colossians 3:17)

I spend my week doing many things, some of which are dedicated to the glory of God, but much of which is not. I am not saying I go out and intentionally sin in this time, or at least I try not to. Rather, I tend to think of the time as being neutral, and as being my own.

But we are told "You are not your own; you were bought at a price" (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). And what a price it was. But what this means, is that my time is not my own, but rather, all God's, and everytime I go off to do my own thing, I'm stealing that time from Him. And I think we can all agree that theft is a crime, or a sin if you like.

God cares about everything we do, like the watchful parent of a young child. And we are commanded in Col. 3:17, that whatever we do is to be done in the name of Jesus. I'm not sure I want to place the beautiful name of Jesus up against all the deeds I do in my day. It doesn't give thanks to Jesus when I stand around doing nothing at work when I could be serving my patients and co-workers, or when I put off uni group assignments because I "have more important things to do" that I usually don't do anyway. Or when I lie in bed whining about the cold and refusing to get up. It's an enormous and scary challenge, but I want to be saying to myself, with each thing that I do, "How is this serving God and giving Him thanks and glory?"

Any thoughts, people?