Exist. Together.

Sometimes just being together is enough.

I went to visit my best friend today. Just stopped over for 15 minutes on my way home, just because I could. We didn't talk much. We just sat and did the puzzles in the newspaper, and discussing crossword clues and which numbers went where in the kenken puzzle took up the majority of what we spoke about.

But sometimes, just doing something simple and not talking about it is enough, for the mere fact that you are together and you both know that words aren't really all that necessary. You've already said it all just by being there.

Another Poetic Foray...

With Bread
(A Poem for Liliane)

It is with bread
That we share our lives
As brothers and sisters, all united
Our community of faith
Church

It is with bread
That we give thanks
For the healing of a world divided
Our symbol of repentance
Communion

It is with bread
That we walk with our Lord
In the joy of life resurrected
Our Lamb of salvation
Christ

Each day
Our Bread of Life
Companion

More than you think you are...

I was having a conversation the other day with one of my closest friends, and I must admit I was being a little emo and venting all my 'issues' on the poor guy. And he said to me that I was a gem, and to make light of it all I jokingly said "What colour?"

And this is what he replied to me "Rainbow to show the many different facets of your character that makes you such a valuable gem".
(Yes, all the girls reading this may now swoon...).

Opals are one of the most expensive gemstones in the world. They may appear black or white on the outside, but when light hits them at the right angle, they become an riot of colours. And this is true of every soul, only I had forgotten it.

We are all more than the colour we see on the surface. Often we get trapped into thinking of ourselves one way - in many cases a very negative way. But we are more than we think we are. I may see myself as a student or a patient because that is the role I am filling that day. But there is so much more underneath.

I am friend-sister-daughter-leader-student-patient-carer-follower-mentor-counsellor-artist-listener-evangelist-musician-intercessor-witness. And these are only the ones I could think of at the moment.

But just like the opal, you will only see yourself truly in the light.

Jesus answered "I am the way and the truth and the light" John 14:6

If you want to know who you are truly, you need to see yourself through the eyes of the one who made you and the one who saved you. To quote a song I rather like, identity is found in Christ (Identity, Lecrae).

A Simple Gift

You know how sometimes there are people in your life that you could never say or do enough to thank them for being there for you? My best friend is definitely tops the list, but there are also two guys out there who have a very special place in my heart and who I couldn't imagine surviving the last year without. This is a small present to them. Excuse the strange first line... it came out of a random comment from my best friend, when we were hanging out with one of the guys and she saw something stuck on his wall.


To my heart's dearest brothers - ASD and MSC

This is a love letter
you may put on your wall
Tell the whole world -
I've told them before
You've been there
to pick me up when I fall.
Brother of my heart
I couldn't ask for more.

There have been dark days
and even harder nights.
Yet through it all I see
you stood by my side
Helping me back towards
the unfading Light
Brother of my heart -
example, friend and guide.

Underappreciated

A few weeks ago, I started a post with a familiar lyric from the song Big Yellow Taxi - "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you got till it's gone." I'm feeling that again.

My sister is going away on placement and my parents have gone away to help her settle in. And being at home by myself has really shocked me as to how much my mother in particular does each day. Everyday when I come home, there is food cooked and clean washing waiting for me to put away. When I get up in the morning, the sink is mysteriously clear of the dirty dishes for the previous night. Somewhere in the midst of the hustle and bustle of four of us trying to leave the house each morning, the fish gets fed, the dog gets fed, the washing is put on, the rubbish is emptied... At the moment, I have to do it all myself, and it's really opened up my eyes to how much work running a house can be - and there aren't even any other people there to feed at the moment!

Apart from the fact that I rarely thank my mother, or indeed, either of my parents for the work they do, it's made me realise how ungrateful I can be. Mum spends putting the washing on, hanging it up, taking it down, folding it, ironing the things that require it... and then I'm too lazy to hang it up or put it in the right drawer, so it gets tossed onto the end of the bed, where it will almost certainly fall onto the floor. What appreciation that shows for my mother's labour!

I think it's time to clean up my act, as well as cleaning up my room :)

What's Your Passion?

I was chatting to a friend earlier today, and somehow (I don't even remember how) we got onto the topic of my love for dancing. I learned dancing (ballet and jazz) for many years, and I absolutely love being able to move to music.

I wish I could explain better what dancing means to me. How, when I dance, it's like everything - my body, my heart and my soul - are all moving together, in an expression of all that is in me - my dreams, my tears, my hopes and my desires. I get this feeling of joy and freedom and hope that just rushes through me. I can't explain it or understand it. But I know I passionately love dancing.

But I know dancing isn't for everyone. Some people (Nica... Andy...) believe they're too unco-ordinated, or just don't enjoy it. But everyone has some activity they are passionate about. For me, it is dance; for someone else, it may be running around a soccer field and scoring that winning goal. It might be taking beautiful photos, sewing a new dress, making a great meal. Whatever it is, I hope you find your passion. Cause no-one should miss out on the feeling that it brings.

Book Selection

(My apologies this is very short and a bit random, and has rant-ish tinges to it, but I've just finished exams, and I felt the need to write something without really thinking what I wrote.)

I have two rules in regards to books that I want to read or buy. If the book is worthy of being read it will:

1. Not have the author's picture on the cover. I never trust books that have the author's picture on the cover... somehow, no matter how great that person is, I always feel like they are trying to sell me their image rather than their thoughts. I'm paying for your words, not a picture of your shiny orthodontically perfected teeth!
2. Not have the author's name written in larger letters than the book title is. Unless you're Charles Dickens or Jane Austen and your books have been so popular for a 100 years or so, and you've earned the right to have your name big, keep your name small. Again, I'm interested in the topic of the book or its story, not who it's written by. Just cause you're a great 'brand name' (ahem... Tom Clancy, Nora Roberts etc.) doesn't make every book you write interesting or good.

Now I shall get back off my soap box and let the rest of you resume whatever more interesting things you were doing before.

Simplicity

I wish my life was much simpler than it is.

I wish I could amuse myself for a whole day without having to go on Facebook or YouTube or even Blogger.
I wish I wasn't contactable 24 hours a day on a little phone that fits within my palm, yet I feel naked without.
I wish I would read books instead of webpages, curling up in an armchair or my bed instead of a swivel chair.
I wish I would spend more time playing my own music instead of blasting it into my ears out of a little stick with a weird yet catchy name.
I wish I didn't use a headset and a webcam to talk to my best friends, whether they live on the other side of the city, or the other side of the world.

I wish my life was unwired, un-networked, uncomplicated.

Free.

In my backyard

When I think of hatred and violence, I tend to think of something far away... you know, it's in that country or in that part of the city... The people near me are good people, right? On Friday morning, I was witness to a very confronting incident on the bus really challenge my underlying attitude of "not in my backyard". I was catching the bus on the way to uni, when a youngish man boarded with a radio blaring from his backpack [This is actually illegal on public transport here; music is supposed to audible only to the person listening to it - i.e. used with headphones]. One of the other passengers requested that he turn it down, and was met with a barrage of insults, swearing and threats of violence, even after the bus driver's warning, that I was scared for the safety of the man who complained and for the other passengers around. It was such a small thing, and it unleashed such a lot of hate. Being me, I wrote a poem about it...

Bus is quiet
People silent
New passenger disturbs our rest
Loud music blares
Everyone stares
Til someone decides to protest
He swears and shouts
About to strike out
Bus driver issues a warning
Hearing death threats
What will come next?
Will there be blood spilt this morning?
I want to hide
Crying inside
Wishing it were all just a jest
There's so much hate
Love seems too late
For this morning bus ride in the West.

Taking Control: A Metaphor

Just an - an interesting metaphor - that I saw yesterday and really spoke to me. I was walking past the little park on the way to Redfern and there were two dogs playing there - one a little puppy, the other much bigger. The bigger dog had a stick in his mouth and was standing still holding on to it, while the little one was jumping up, trying to grab the stick and pull it from the other dog. But no matter how hard the little one pulled and jumped, he could not make the bigger dog release the stick. All he was doing was knocking the stick around. And it just reminded me of God and us...

God has made us - created us - and he's in control of the whole universe and our lives. We can't change that, just like the little dog can't make the big dog release the stick, because we are not God. We don't have his power or his wisdom or anything else for that matter. But like the little dog, we want control - not of a stick, but of our lives. But our attempts to grab control of our lives and pull it away from God (what the Bible calls sin) are not only fruitless, but also serve to knock us about. I'm sure you've felt the effects of sin damaging your life.

So what's the alternative? Knowing Christ died to bring us into relationship with God again, we can sit back and rest in the safety that our lives are in the best hands possible. Learn to trust him with your life - your whole life. This is where I so often fall down. I'm happy to trust God with little bits of my life, but not the whole thing...

Then instead of fighting over the stick, through the peace-making death of Jesus, we can again have relationship with God and can have an awesome time being joyful about that!

Inhibitions

Over the past 5 weeks, I have been doing an unpaid internship one morning a week at a local hospital. While this has been very exciting and I am sad that my stint there has come to an end, there's one thing I will miss more - the wait for the train afterward.

Let me give you some background. The hospital is close to a little station called Denistone, so small it is just two platforms and an unmanned office. I finish placement right in the middle of the day, so when I get to the station, it has always been completely deserted. So... you're sitting on a deserted train platform for 20 minutes with nothing to do. What do you do?

If you're anywhere near as crazy as me, you take this opportunity to sing whatever you want, as loud as want, because you can and no-one can hear you. I'm not a fantastic singer, so singing by myself in public is not something I would do by choice. But when I'm alone... it's so liberating to just be able to lift your voice to sing whatever you want, without anyone judging you, without your inhibitions of what others' might think weighing you down. For 20 minutes, it was freedom.

I'm going to miss Denistone Station.

A Conversation of Value

Do you ever get that feeling that you’re special, just because someone took the time to be interested in you? I had that feeling recently.

One afternoon I accidentally got on an all stops train instead of my normal express. Concerned I was going to miss my bus connection, I decided to get off at the next station and change onto the express, which would come through a couple of minutes later. Waiting on the platform at the next station was a lady holding a purple flower. We made eye contact and smiled politely at each other, as you do at bus stops and train stations, then I wandered over to check the timetable, only to find both the express and all stops train reached my destination at exactly the same time. Go figure.

So the express arrived and I boarded and the lady with the flower got on behind me. We stood next to each other holding on to one of the poles. She began to twirl the flower around, and I started watching, which she noticed. And so she started talking to me.

I don’t usually have random conversations on trains; I usually get quite freaked out. But when this lady casually enquired if I had come from work or from uni, I found I was happy to tell her about my day and enquired about what she occupied herself with. We didn’t exchange any personal information – as you may be able to tell, I don’t even know her name. But I can tell you that talking to her really turned my day around. I was able to share with her my opinion on various health care issues, and to listen to her experiences and difficulties with the health care system. It made me feel valued, and I hope she felt that way too. And I hope I can pay the favour forward one day, in making someone else feel heard, even if it is by a complete stranger whose name you don’t even know.

5 Daily Essentials

I was away interstate last night visiting extended family - just overnight, and so only took an overnight bag with PJs, toothbrush, hairbrush and my essential books. But it made me realise how there are certain parts of my day that are 'essentials' of my day, and that I miss when my routine is disturbed. In no particular order:-

• Quiet Time. It's often not as well done as I would like it to be, but if I don't read something from the Bible, and spend some time talking to God, I really feel like there is something missing.
• Journaling. I've kept a journal for over 3 years now, and it's become invaluable, as a means of reflecting on joys and challenges, of recording significant moments and of seeing how much I've grown.
• Tea. I love tea. Contrary to the opinion of most uni students, I think it is far superior to coffee. I usually have 4 cups a day, of varying flavours.
• Music. Barely a day goes past when I don't listen to music in some form. Whether it's the CD that comes on as my alarm in the mornings, my mp3 player on the train or my computer as I catch up with emails, Facebook and the blogsphere, music really helps to lift my mood - and depending what I listen to - often recentre me on what's important.
• Alone Time. While I love people, my friends and my family, I am one of those people who needs to spend at least a few minutes of the day alone to sort out my thoughts and emotions, or I end up as an emotional screwball.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot...

I can't believe that it has come around to New Year's Eve again. It seems only yesterday that I was sitting around with friends, hearing Auld Lang Syne being played and watching the fireworks from Sydney Harbour rain down from the Bridge. It has been such a big year of growth for me.

Yesterday someone asked me if I had made any New Year's resolutions yet. Normally I think these are silly, that they are just things that people say but never carry through with. But it got me thinking... why do I need to resolve to do something like exercise more or eat better, something I am never going to do? What if I resolved to do something that actually meant something to me, like commit to pray regularly for my family?

I haven't decided what my actual resolutions will be yet - I have until midnight to work it out. But hopefully whatever it is, I will be able to keep them!

Cause I'm a copykit...

Because I only have a few hours left to pack, until I need to sleep before heading off on one of the most awesome (imho) camps all year... I really wanted to post something though, so I've copied this quiz from my dear Nica at About a Girl. So, may I present, the Three Quiz (insert flourish here).

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:- Kit, Kitty and Trini

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:- Space of Flowers, Marauding Snowflake, Magenta Lee Hope

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:- My eyes - they can change colour!, my increasing curly (no longer frizzy) hair and my double jointed thumbs.

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:- Multitude of scars from variuos surgeries and accidents, small veins which collapse when having blood taken and very acne-prone skin.

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:- Australian, Scottish and German.

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:- Heights, the concept of me driving a vehicle unsupervised and health care professionals who are in the 'business' for the money.

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:- God, writing in my journal and tea

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:- Black trackies, red hoodie and ugg boots

THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE BANDS OR MUSICAL ARTISTS:- Rebecca St James, Leeland and MercyMe

THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE SONGS:- Iris, More Than It Seems and Comptine d'un Autre Ete.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:- Love (which must first come from God, and is reflected in the love for one another), shared values and being able to serve one another.

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE PREFERRED SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:- Expressive eyes (i.e. where you can see what that person is thinking or feeling by their eyes), arms suitable for giving good hugs and a smile that charms you into smiling back.... (No, of course I'm not picturing anyone in particular as I'm describing this....)

THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE HOBBIES:- Knitting/embroidery, writing and sleeping.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:- Hug Nica, sleep, do more knitting

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING/YOU'VE CONSIDERED:- Pharmacist, foreign aid worker, chemical engineer

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON HOLIDAY TO:- Europe as a whole, Central and Eastern Canada/USA and anywhere in Asia

THREE NAMES YOU LIKE:- Jonathan, Felicity and Simon

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:- Become a wife and mother (in that order :P), finish strong in faith and see my parents (re?)commit to Christ.

THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A BOY:- I don't usually consider putting on makeup before leaving the house, I think the hoodie is one of fashion's greatest achievements and my culinary expertise only extends to instant noodles and boiled eggs.

THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A GIRL: - I classify gymnastics as a sport, I like to sew and do craft-y things and I love wearing pink.

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.

A Little Comedy of Errors

Every week I send out an email newsletter for a club that I am part of. And every week, without fail, there is something that goes wrong - a piece of information that is missing, a late submission, an mistake in a time or a date... There's always something.

This week there were two things...

• Despite contributing to the newsletter almost every single week, there is one guy who always manages to update the website at the exact time that I am sending the newsletter off. This frustrates me immensely. I can't keep checking the website all night for updates and I send this newsletter at the same time every single week. Yet, every week I feel guilty, feeling certain that if I had just checked the website one more time, the late change could have been included.
• This week, there was a document to be attached to the newsletter. Unbeknownst to me (being merely the secretary), one of the senior club organisers had promised several people the registration form would be attached to the newsletter. When I came to attaching it, however, I found it wouldn't open properly on my computer without crashing my Word program. So instead of emailing the organiser back and letting him know the problem, I just ignored because I have an assignment due tomorrow and this crashing Word business was scaring me. So I sent the newsletter off without it.

One small newsletter. One of the many millions of emails some people may receive in the inbox each week. But every issue has its own story.

Welcome to the Land of Blog?

I'm not even sure why I am starting a new blog... It is completely unnecessary - a downright waste of time, in fact, as I have too much to do as it is, without even spending more time pouring out my soul into the vacuum that is the internet.

Oh dear. I've begun to sound quite depressed.

You may be surprised to learn, wide world, that I am not actually depressed. In fact, I am quite the opposite. In the past two years, I have discovered even more joy in my life than I knew was possibly. I have found the love of community of people united by a common hope and faith, and friendships that run deeeper than I thought possible.

And now I've decided I'm going to grow up a little bit. Not that I'm going to stop having fun. But it is time for me to start taking a lot more responsibilty for how my life is lived - and who it is lived for. And I want to be able to keep my promises to myself and to Him. It's very easy to keep promises to other people, you know. If you don't, you know you'll be wracked with guilt and shame for days afterward, and they may never speak to you again. But a promise to yourself? Who cares?? We don't respect ourselves enough to keep these kinds of promises. And promises to God? Well, at the time of fulfilling the promise, He always seems a long way away, doesn't He? But He's not, is He? And He sees and He knows. Thank goodness for grace.