Honest Words

Some of you may know about my recent smash-and-grab incident, which I blogged about here, and here... Well, God's been good so good to me this past month, I didn't have much more than a week to wallow in self-pity. Thing is, He also sent me the right people, to say the right thing. And sometimes, you really just need to hear something that takes the sting out of life's disappointments. 

One such person left a giant footprint on my life, in the form of a letter that she sent to me a few days after the smash-and-grab incident. Her words soaked right up into my soul, feeling like a healing balm on an ugly wound. 

Here is the beautifully written (and I believe, anointed) words shared with me by a very dear friend, who chose to speak honestly, courageously and tenderly about the Father's care for His children - I've chosen to share this, because another friend of mine was attacked in the same way just this week... and I know there must be so many out there who may need to be reminded of this...: 

Just wanted to say that I know what you are feeling. I been there and pretty much lived in fear my whole life. Fear consumed me to the point of paranoia
The thing that changed my thinking and helped me control it was what my mom-in-law said to me. She said that the very thing that you fear controls you. And I thought screw that, nothing controls me, let alone fear - I am a child of Papa! 

God has charged his angels around me, they are not only there during the day but they are encamped around me at night. (I actually visualize them outside, setting up camp, poking a fire, drink in hand) lol. No weapon formed against me shall prosper either. Doesn't mean it won't be formed but if it is, it won't get anywhere. 

I know it is just words but that is why I decided to believe it literally, as a child would, so it could be real for me. Naive and wholeheartedly trusting in Papa's promises. Blindly believing as a child does in their parent. 

For all you know that guy bolted so fast from your car because he brushed an angels wing while diving for your bag. I love believing like that, reminds me how real Papa is.   

Anyhow... I know it takes time, but the key is to not let it consume you. Take control of it (whatever way works for you) and move on. Live free and secure in the fact that Papa, the King of kings has His eye on you. 

Under the shadow

There's a song I was listening to this morning that really "un-did" me. I mean, my mind went from 160KM/H to zero in an instant. I nearly had to stop my car on the side of the road to pull myself together. I wanted to share it with you and I really urge you to take the time to listen to the song when you have a moment alone. 

The song is "Shadow of Your Wings" by Jason Upton. The lyrics and a link to a decent-quality version are below, but I first wanted to mull over something with you...

Have you ever held a bird in your hand, and felt what its little body is like? The bone structure of the wings form what could be compared with a cage, that protects the bird's fragile torso. On the outside, their wings are firm, covered with sleek shiny feathers, feathers designed to keep cool air out and, when pruned, designed to protect from other elements too, like rain. 

But if you slip your attention to what lies underneath the wings...The tender gap beneath the bird's wing is a warm haven for young chicks. The body beneath the wing is silky soft, the feathers so fine and fluffy, so delicate to the touch, you almost can't feel them. And if you've ever held a bird in your hand, you will agree that the most precious thing of all is that you can feel their little hearts beating a frantic rhythm against your fingers.

Listening to this song this morning, I momentarily imagined myself under the shadow of His wing. And for that moment, I felt the tips of his feathers brush my hair back as He drew me closer. The firm protection of His wing held me into His chest, and there I found warm, gentle rest, where I cried and sobbed and felt His heart beating for me. 

Not wanting to be carried away by imagination and emotion, I thought I'd read up a bit on this and found, among a few other verses, the amazing Psalm 91, where verse 4 claims: "He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart."

It was such a deeply profound description of my own 'imaginings'.

If you are worn out, afraid, worrying, grieving, stressed out, angry and constantly fighting... If you know no peace, and can't remember what it feels like to be at rest... It's ok. No one expects you to be Superman, except maybe you. "Stop and take a drink". The Living God wants to pour His healing water over you. Let yourself be woo'd into the shadow of His wing, feel how His heart beats for you. 

I feel like a new person. 

Listen Here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFSlIoh_UXA 

I've Been Running Trying To Find My Refuge

Never Stopping Long Enough To See

All The While You Were Right There Waiting

To Hide Me In The Shadow Of Your Wings

Under The Shadow

Under The Shadow

Under The Shadow Of Your Wings

I Will Find My Rest

Under The Shadow

Under The Shadow

Under The Shadow Of Your Wings

I Will Find My Rest

I Get So Thirsty Trying To Find Your Presence

That I Forget To Stop And Take A Drink

All The While You Are Right There Wanting

To Pour Your Healing Water Over Me

Under The Shadow

Under The Shadow

Under The Shadow Of Your Wings

I Will Find My Rest

Under The Shadow

Under The Shadow

Under The Shadow Of Your Wings

I Will Find My Rest

In You

It's Only In You

It's Only In You Lord

~Image found on http://theinbetweentimeswaitingongod.blogspot.com

You can find this article, and others like it, at Above The Flame. Check out the Above the Flame Facebook page HERE. 

When ...it happens.

Have you ever wondered what you would do if you became the victim of a smash-and-grab, or a burglary, or a mugging...? Well I can tell you: Nothing. I did nothing. 
I didn't chase the perpetrator down the road with the intention of running him over and reclaiming my bag. Tempting, but I was stuck in traffic. I didn't fall to pieces and spend an hour crying on the side of the road. I just... went home like nothing happened.

I came to a traffic light on Friday evening, 20h30, at a traffic-congested, but dark intersection. In the corner of my eye a figure rushed to my car passenger window, shattered my passenger window, grabbed my bag from the car floor and ran off into the night. It happened in about four seconds. They say that time slows down when you fear for your life... I'm not so sure, but you do remember every terrible moment in detail. 

My whole body went numb with fear and adrenaline except for a weird, hot rush of pins and needles that pulsed into my hands and feet. And even though the perpetrator was on the run with me staring in horror at his back as he fled like a coward, I was afraid of him. I am afraid of him. There was nothing I could do. I simply put my foot on the accelerator, and got home as fast as I could. 

What bugs me is this feeling of guilt that I have. The inner argument that has been going on in my head ever since Friday, as that awful man looms outside the passenger window of my mind, his arm raise to shatter my internal safe haven...

I shouldn't have been out visiting my friends at night alone. 
But I left early, it wasn't that late? 
Was it? 
Oh no, I'm often out at night. How am I going to live?
I'll have to be a hermit. I'll have to quit half my commitments in Winter. The sun sets too early. 
I can't, I can't! I have to live!
No. I have to stay alive. 
I shouldn't have been driving that road. 
But I drive that road every day, often after dark.
It's a dark road you idiot.
But I thought it was the safest at the time. I even thought about it before I left. It has the least traffic lights and stops, and it's the fastest way home. Only 2 traffic lights, in fact, and a lovely highway. 
There are police patrolling that road constantly.
It's a dodgy road and you know it. 
I disagree. The other routes have just as many real threats, and more can go wrong on the other roads. Drunkards use the other route on Friday nights, and it's riddled with dodgy traffic lights. 
Suit yourself. Idiot. 
I should have had my phone in my pocket, not my bag.
I should have been locking my bag in my boot.
Really? I should spend an additional 30 seconds outside my car, in an open parking lot, putting my bag in my boot? 
Well it should have been behind my seat at least, not on the passenger floor.
I didn't think anyone would be able (or brave enough) to reach the passenger floor in such a rush. 
Exactly, I didn't think. I was arrogant enough to believe that I'm immune to these things. 
Oh stop it!
I should have kept a peppergun in my car, just in case. 
But then what? I gas someone else and myself in an enclosed vehicle? 
That's a good point. And he was gone in 4 seconds, like we said. That would mean I'd gas myself alone. 
Still. A peppergun might have made me feel better. 
Or worse. 
I should have..
I should have..
I should have...

My mind is racing with all these thoughts of self-blame and guilt and I suddenly just feel really ticked off. Wait a friggin minute here...! I didn't do anything wrong! I am a careful and vigilant person. If anything, I'm a bit too nice and naive, but I'm not an idiot. I did not 'deserve' this out of my own carelessness. It happened. And please forgive my use of this phrase but "Shit happens". 

And it did happen. So what now? It was such a petty crime, so not-a-big-deal. I am so grateful to be safe and un-harmed, unlike so may others. And yet... a part of me is stuck there, on that corner. I'm behind a truck and in front of a string of other cars. A man is crashing a sharp object into my car window and my mind is screaming out..

Is this it? 
Is he going to hijack me? 
What does he want?
Will he leave me here?
Will he force me to go with him?
Will he let me live?
Is this the end...???

I am still afraid, looking over my shoulder. My sense of freedom, humour and enjoyment of life is shivering in the corner of my mind, asking if it's safe to come out yet. In time, it will be ok. But for now, I have to clutch onto one thing to help me feel in control, and that is the fact that it was out of my control. I am not to blame. For that reason, I refuse to discuss the matter with anyone any further. I refuse to have people carelessly speculating on what I should have done, what I could have done, what I might have done, if I'd done it different, what I could have decided, should I decide I should have done it different....

As if I am somehow to blame.

No. No more. It happened. And that's it.

Everyday, a Random Day

I have these Random Days. They descend on me quite unannounced. I find myself absolutely powerless to defend myself against days such as these… such as the day that I am currently having right now.

On these Random Days, which seem to occur more frequently than not, I am overwhelmed by a “mysterious something” that immerses, envelopes, consumes my heart. On one hand, this something can accurately be described as fuzzy and warm, mushy and bubbly, and quite probably pink. But what absolutely baffles me is how this seemingly fuzzy, warm, mushy (probably pink) bubbly something (are you still with me?) has the capacity to hit me like a bus, quite literally bringing tears to my eyes. It’s like a tidal wave, it crashes into every part of me until I am absolutely sure that I have drowned in it.

Drowned, and yet, not dead.

In fact, so much more alive.

This something doesn’t have a name. I cannot name it, although I have tried.

It is…

…the urge to hug people.

To hug absolutely every soul on this planet. The kind of hug that people remember, those tight ones, the squeeze-ie ones that whisper “I really do care about you” without whispering at all. I have come to call such days “I-want-to-hug-the-world” days. But I suspect, due to the ever-increasing frequency of these days, that I am becoming a “I-want-to-hug-the-world” person.

I work at a hotel. I’m surrounded by people all day. I work with a diverse team, and have gotten to know them on a personal level.

I wish I could hug them. Every. Single. One.

From our biggest teddy-bear of a waiter

to the timid housekeeper with the wide eyes

to our busy managers trapped up behind their desks

to our sweetest barmen with their naughty smiles

to the singing chef filling the food with cheer

to the office ladies talking nonsense to pass the time (and working very hard).

Some people are pregnant with new life;

Some are facing death in their family;

Some are hiding sad secrets behind their eyes;

Most of them laugh every day, regardless of their lives.

I am inspired by them.

But mostly I just love them.

And I want to hug them. So badly.

So, dear World, if I start to jitter and twitch, if I grin like a psychotic fool, if I start giggling through clenched teeth… this is just the picture of desperate self-restraint and as close to composure as I can come. For inside, I am tackling you with a violently-lovable embrace, I am crushing you with my whole heart, I am pouring out the tidal wave of this “something” that’s drowned me to death and then filled me to overflowing with life.

It can only be Jesus. I, alone, am not capable of such Love.

I am reminded of a gorgeous song, accompanied by an even more gorgeous music video. “Everyday”, by the awesome Dave Matthews Band, came out many years ago… but this will never grow old.Love never expires.

Hugs to you Beautiful People of this Planet! 

Shark Attack!... or wait... no, ummm...

This is astonishing, and tragic - So hectic, it doesn't even fit into my blog page.

Rant of The Day: For The Ladies

Dear Brand Manufacturer,

When you remove a bra design that you have been manufacturing for years from your range, you are not simply discontinuing a style. You are plunging billions of women across the globe into darkness; ripping the proverbial mat from beneath their staggering feet; pushing them over the edge of a cliff, spinning them into a never-ending void of blackness and uncertainty.

There are those of us who find bra-shopping to be a most loathsome task. Those of us who spent our delicate, teen years struggling to find that perfect fit. Comfort, support, confidence. And finally, at the age of 23 – yes twenty-three! – my twelve-year search was rewarded. And, bless you, dear manufacturer, this bra was kept on the market all this time, ensuring my comfort, support and confidence for a blissful five years. Such was my trust your product that my most recent purchase didn’t even warrant a fitting – I simply walked in, grabbed my size, and walk out. (after paying, of course)

This weekend, I dragged my sorry self out to my nearest Edgars in (slightly desperate) search of one of my beloved undergarments only to find that you have discontinued this particular item, and all similar items, replacing your entire range with what I can only call “Granny-bra’s”. Now, some years have passed since my first purchase of my favourite bra, but I resent the underlying suggestion that I should now be moving onto Granny-bra’s. You have left me no choice but to make the drastic move to another brand altogether.

An infuriating hour of trying on what felt like thousands and thousands of bra’s, different sizes, different cuts, and I found myself absolutely confused about what size I really am, sending hysterical messages of despair to my husband about my body, which is obviously deformed beyond human recognition – obviously, if I can’t get a single bra to friggin fit the same way that my old one used to….!!!!!!

*deep breathing*

And so, dear manufacturer, I bid you farewell, and the song “No it isn’t” by the band, +44 is our parting song…

Please understand:

This isn’t just ‘Goodbye’

This is ‘I can’t stand you’

Start Counting...

As long as you are always looking back at the way things used to be, you will never be able to appreciate the way things are now. This is not because what you used to have is any better than what you have now, but simply because your head is quite literally facing the wrong way. 
You cannot possibly see all you have in front of you, when your eyes are constantly averted over your shoulder.

Looking back kills gratitude.

Let Go.

Take a look around.

And start counting.

You will find your blessings gradually become un-countable. 

Where are you, Fellow Inhabitants of this Planet?

Living in the past…?

Or immersing yourself in the present…?