Author: fionacharisbrown

The Right Questions.

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Have you ever been around someone who can very skilfully pry info out of you, without you even realizing just how much you’re sharing with them?

Some people are just better conversationalists than others. But I think that this ability to have better conversations, is something we can all learn to do, even if it means moving way out of our comfort zones.

Why should we even care about this?  Why should it even be on our radar? And I mean ‘we’ as a very broad, collective we. You, me, and anyone in our circles. Well for me, it comes down to caring. A very long time ago I was told that ‘people don’t care how much you know, until they know how much you care’. And part of caring for people is being interested in them, and part of being interested in people is asking them the right questions.

I believe that people are like onions. We all have layers. Layers upon layers. And it takes intentionality and skill, to dig through the layers in some people. Now some people will very happily shed their layers for you, some people are very open books. God bless ’em. Other people take little more digging, a little more prying and a little more time, to reveal the ‘gold’. For whatever reason, some people cling to their layers a little more tightly than others. And that’s ok.

Last week Darlene Zschech tweeted something her husband had said, in relation to building community. He said ‘everyone is interesting. You just haven’t asked the right questions’.

I love that, because I do believe that everyone has a story. Everyone is interesting if we just take the time to find out a little bit about them.

Recently I read this blog post here by a Krystal Masciale who was guest blogging on Phil Cooke’s blog. It gives some fantastic pointers on how to have better conversations, it highlights some great questions to ask others.

I think that we all do a better job at loving people, in being there for people, when we ask better questions. We can be better leaders, bosses, family members and friends when we show genuine interest in others. Let’s go beyond the ‘hi, how was your week?’. Ya with me?

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May Peace Be Yours.

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Dear friend,

I know the path you’re walking now is hard.  So very hard.

I’d love to take the pain away from you, I’d love to take the pain away for you.

Those parts of you that are now forever broken…I know time will help, but those scars will remain and eventually they will tell a story……His story, becoming Your story.  As grace dosed over time does the healing.

While my arms long to hold you near, to be a shoulder for your despair….I pray you know Abba Father’s presence is there.

When confusion’s my companion
And despair holds me for ransom
I will feel no fear
I know that You are near

As days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months…..your confusion will clear.  Your mind will once again focus.  The ability to prioritize and create order, will return.

When I’m caught deep in the valley
With chaos for my company
I’ll find my comfort here
‘Cause I know that You are near

Ohhh friend, He is near.  He is always near. Right there.

My help comes from You
You’re right here, pulling me through
You carry my weakness, my sickness, my brokenness all on Your shoulders
Your shoulders
My help comes from You
You are my rest, my rescue
I don’t have to see to believe that You’re lifting me up on Your shoulders
Your shoulders

In our weakness, He is made strong.  Dear friend, it is ok to feel weak.  To be weak.  That’s the beauty of grace – it is the very glue that closes the gap, between us and His supernatural strength.  His power.  Allow Him to carry you through.

You mend what once was shattered
And You turn my tears to laughter
Your forgiveness is my fortress
Oh Your mercy is relentless

One day, your smile will return.  One day, your soul will erupt with giggles.  That’s mercy.  You will never forget, you will hold memories dear, but joy will return.

My help is from You
Don’t have to see it to believe it
My help is from you
Don’t have to see it, ‘cause I know, ‘cause I know it’s true

My help is from You
Don’t have to see it to believe it
My help is from you
Don’t have to see it, ‘cause I know, ‘cause I know it’s true

Experience has seen me walk hard, rough roads, sometimes in the company of others, and at other times, the journey has been bereft of others.  I know which option I’d prefer, I know which option was made easier…..the roads with companionship have seen me become more vulnerable but the presence of others has made what was raw and harsh, just so much more bearable.

Friend, respond to those who reach out, even if you have to do it time and time again. Choose your ‘safe’ people wisely and then speak honestly time and time again with them.  Even if and when you feel stuck, like a broken record, don’t ever hesitate from telling them how you truly feel.  Their shoulders, along with His presence, will get you through.  This I know is true.

Your rest, your rescue, it can come from Him.

My friend, may peace be Yours.

(words in italics – lyrics to the song, ‘Shoulders’ by For King and Country).

Once upon a time.

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Once upon a time there was a handsome young man who was about to marry the love of his life. Throughout the land there was a call brought forth. A certain broadcasting company was seeking participants in a show, people who were willing to share their big day with the nation. The handsome man thought ‘aha, why not?’  For his classmates were already recording the wedding with many cameras, and the love of his life thought ‘t’will be a little risky, but why not?’ for she knew there was a certain cuteness factor to the wedding, with a whole class of children participating by singing in the ceremony.

And thus they filled out some forms and sent them away, to then be chosen to appear on that particular show. The company saw the appeal of the many cameras already, and the cuteness of the children. But, within a short amount of time it appeared that what the company really began to focus on, what they wanted to shine a bright spotlight on, was the fact that the wedding night would prove to be the handsome young man and the love of his life’s first joining of the hearts. Forsooth!

Yep. That there story is true. Many, many years ago my Spunky Hunk of a husband and I, were the couple above. We had tv cameras follow us around in the build up to our wedding…..dress fitting, pre-marital counselling, hen’s party, the works. And then the actual wedding. It was a fascinating experience……for one it helped me understand the work my husband does. He does tv stuff for a living, so this was one way of me getting a quick education on certain things. It was fun getting to know the crew, they were great people.

But it was risky. Hugely risky in a lot of ways. We very quickly realized that the production company was focusing on our christian character. That was the thing that we knew could come across on the actual tv show as either God honouring and could give us a bit of depth and stability, or we could have come across as freaks and we could have been ridiculed across our entire nation.  In the end the shows were put together really well and our story came across with minimal freak factor represented…..probably helped by the fact that other participants in the show were people such as a nudist couple and some other rather colourful characters…

As time went on we learnt that the episodes featuring little old us, were the highest rating shows of the whole series. And here’s the point of this whole post……story. Our story had appeal. People; complete strangers, were interested in what we had to say about love and sex and marriage. It was more than nosey parker people, wanting a peek at a pretty dress and wanting a laugh at these people who were sharing way too much information. People talked about us at their workplaces, giving christian friends opportunities to join in the discussion too. People recognized us, in the most random places, and not once were we made fun of. Our story was respected I think because we had given people food for thought. Not because ‘we’re all that’. Not at all. Not because we’re amazing at all, no, we’re not, but our God is. God used our story for good. God shone through as the hero. We only had to take the risk we did, in sharing our story.

Your story matters too. Whatever it is that God has brought you through, whatever He is teaching you, that matters. Let’s not hesitate in sharing our stories because you never know what someone needs to hear. You never know what struggles those around you are facing. Our job is to plant the seeds, to be available, to be the ones who say ‘yes’ to whatever crazy God idea that comes before us. Then it is up to God to water that seed, to grow that seed. And He has a track record for doing that. Every. Single. Time.

Part of our story did involve lights, cameras and a bit of action. It goes to show that God uses many ways in reaching people. In sharing stories. And the exciting thing is….there are always more stories……we are all works in progress….

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Fourteen. 

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Judi went to the preschool where she’d enrolled her son, with the intention of withdrawing his enrolment because of his recent autism diagnosis. She promptly changed her mind about the withdrawing part when the head teacher kindly responded to her with the words, ‘we are here for all children’.

Rowena was struggling in all sorts of ways at her old school and at an interview for a new school the Principal looked her squarely in the eyes and said ‘you have potential and I see it in you’.

Patti, as a young Mama and new believer was facing quite the lifestyle change. She recalls with amazing fondness being told ‘you are good enough, just as you are’.

Julie lost her Mum very unexpectedly, in extremely hard circumstances. To this day, she claims that the kindest words ever spoken to her have been the words, ‘it will get worse before it gets better’.

Anna grew up as a bit of an underachiever, in an underachieving family, and when she came to have her own family, some of her very real fears were around the thought that her own children wouldn’t ever find their passions and would settle for less than mediocre. She doesn’t fear that anymore after having her two children singled out in their school assembly and having some of their amazing achievements highlighted and brought attention to. That was the kindest and most meaningful thing that could ever happen to her.

Shelley was about to get engaged to someone who was not going to be God’s best for her, when her roommate pulled her aside and really questioned her and put words to her concerns about that relationship. Shelley will forever be grateful for those words, hard words but spoken in kindness, with kindness.

Shelley, Anna, Julie, Patti, Rowena and Judi. These are not random, far off people, in situations remote from us. Rather, these are all friends of mine, known and loved by me, who shared with me the times in their lives where kind words have impacted them the very most. And the thing that stands out to me, is that could well have been me, and maybe you, in many of those situations.

I counted up the number of verbal interactions that I had in just one average, nothing out of the ordinary day. I got to fourteen blocks of conversations. Fourteen different times of engaging with people in conversation on some level.

My friend Jenna, thoughtful Jenna, reckons she receives and remembers kindness when she’s at her weakest. That the kindest of words are those beautiful words given generously in the midst of a dark or difficult moment.

How many of these fourteen blocks of interactions of mine on that day, or on any given day, could have been kinder? How open were my ears and eyes to the signs that those I was engaged in conversation with, may have needed a spot of encouragement, a reassurance or a shoulder to lean on?  There are hurting people everywhere. We’re all walking wounded in some way.

We always, always, always remember the best, the most honouring and encouraging words spoken to us. We also remember the very worst of conversations. The condescending. The hurtful and disparaging.

An average of fourteen blocks of conversation a day. That’s a lot of opportunity for hope-filled, life-giving, ‘seeing the best in you’ words. Spoken by me. Given as a gift that is easily given, if I just remember and hold dear the reality of the impact these words could have. Just like the kind, kind words spoken to my friends, that are forever branded in their hearts, secured in their souls.

Collossians 4:6  Let your conversation be gracious and attractive so that you will have the right response for everyone. 

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Offence – The Felled Trees

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I kinda think that the only way to go through life without ever taking offence at anything, would be if you lived a very isolated, hidden away in a cabin of the woods, self-reliant existence. The truth is, as much as people are kind, generous, encouraging and delightful, sometimes people ain’t all that…..

Sometimes patience is lost, messages are misconstrued, tones are misread……you know..the whole shebang.

We; me, you, everyone, take offence from time to time. Things happen. We feel hurt. And the thing I’ve been challenged by lately is…..what am I gonna do with that offence?

Let’s imagine for a moment that our offence is like a felled log. One of those humongous Redwoods, that once reached long and tall up to the heavens. But now that tree is just a long and lifeless log.

The way I see it is we have two options with that felled tree. We could start up a chainsaw and carve that log up for firewood. Or we could send that log off to a wood processing plant, and that timber could then be used for something practical and helpful, maybe even something beautiful, something that will live on through the decades.

And so it is with offence. Let’s take option one, the firewood. That old felled tree would make quite a bonfire. Quite a gathering could meet around it, they could stay warm and maybe even sing a few rounds of kumbaya. Later on as the embers die down a tad, out could come the marshmallows. But the froth and bubble, the sparks and the pops don’t last forever, and the firestarters are left with a pile of smouldering ashes.

Sometimes we do this with our offence. We make a big song and dance over it. We feed off it, and maybe encourage others to think the same negative thoughts. We want to feel validated, so we don’t hold back on the froth and bubble, the sparks and pops. Go on admit it, it kinda feels good at the time. Like the warmth and glow of a fire is good. But that good feeling doesn’t last. Those flames die down. Unless we pile more felled trees onto our fires. Offence on top of offence. But sooner or later those flames do die down, and we’re left with that pile of dirty ash.

Now let’s look at our other option. Let’s collect all of those felled logs in our lives. You know when you’re hiking a trail and the paths haven’t been cleared after a big storm…and the scrambling it takes to get over and around some of those logs….let’s make life a little easier for those that want to hike the path closer to our hearts. Let’s collect up those trees, all that offence that is such a hindrance, let’s haul them together, load em up on a big old truck, and send them away. Why don’t we exchange those logs for something beautiful? Something that will withstand the tests of time. Something that won’t be a dirty pile of ashes once the spark and pops have died down.

Practically speaking how does this play out? To avoid becoming firestarters with our logs of offence I reckon we need to choose very carefully who we discuss our business with. If we’re picking people to share our inner hurts with, because we know they will be loud and vocal in their support of us….then I reckon that’s maybe not the best way to get some support. That only adds ignition to the flames. The wisest people to share our hurts with are those who seek wisdom from on high, not platitudes from the masses.

If we’re hauling that timber away, then it is out of sight and out of mind for a bit. The temptation to dwell on our issues is not the same. And sometimes the end result of what we get with that treated and crafted timber can be a beautiful reminder of progress, of God’s handiwork if we’re humble enough to say ‘this hurts. I can’t handle it myself. Give me beauty from these ashes Lord. Teach from this dark and vulnerable place I’m in’.

Good things happen when we cry out to God with our hurts.  Transformation happens when we haul our offence away and we let the Master Carpenter shape it into stunning pieces.

We all have felled trees in our lives at different times.  Should we use these for firewood or craftsmanship? That’s our choice.

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Happy, blessed.

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This guy here, he’s my youngest out of three boys and he’s about to turn five. And here in New Zealand, turning five is quite a big deal. Most kids start school on or as close to their fifth birthday as possible. So, as you can imagine I’m feeling all the feels.

I could write a post about how we all gotta stop blinking. These kids just grow like weeds and they will have flown the nest before we even know it.

I could write a post about how amazing this little dude is and how he lives up to his very name, meaning happy and blessed.

But really, all I can think about is his birth story and seeing the touch of God, the fingerprints of grace, every step of the way.  And I see relevance in this for each and every one of us; young, old, married, single, childless, parent, sister, brother. All of us…..I’ll even keep the mention of bodily fluids to the very minimum.

Asher’s coming ‘to be’ was very much a planned and wanted happening in our lives.  We’d always wanted three kids and then some unexplained medical issues and moving countries kinda put some blips on our path.  In fact if ‘he’ hadn’t have happened exactly when he did, we were just gonna prepare our hearts to be a family of four.  We plan and we strive.  We spend a lot of time scheduling life, putting order in our days.  But there’s a deep peace that comes from living in the knowledge that at the very start of the day, and at the end of the day, our steps are ordered by the Lord.  He also knows what our hearts cry out for.  What our deepest longings are.  We read in the book of James in the Bible that ‘Every good and perfect gift is from above’.  

To make a very long story way shorter, from 28 weeks I had to have weekly ultrasounds to check on my baby, because of being exposed to a certain illness that I had no immunity to. You never know when and where you’re gonna get hit with one of life’s curveballs.  Peace can come from ‘building your lifeboat‘, especially in the times when the sailing is smooth.  And that curveball ended up working in our favour, maybe even to the point of saving his life.

I was a day shy of 38 weeks, at my regular weekly scan when the technician left the room in search of my Maternal Fetal Medicine Specialist.  You know something’s up when that happens.  Turns out the baby had ripped his amniotic sac to shreds.  Who knew that was a possibility?  So I was sent straight to the hospital…the risk being if the amniotic sac had started leaking fluids, a great gushing, it could have caused a prolapsed cord.  Ain’t nobody got no time for that.  Once again, a surprise for us, but not for God.  And as always – impeccable timing.  My husband had just come home from being away, a six hour flight across the country, away.  He had come along to that appointment with me, on what we thought was a whim, because he had been away and had time off due to him.  But God knew he should have been with me.  How many times do things happen in our lives, at just the right time, with just the right people around us?  God knows.

My labour progressed very slowly, because I went into labour naturally with the shock of everything….then the medical staff intervened to try to speed things along…but still…it was was a long and painkiller free process.  My regular obstetrician was called in, on his day off.  He’d been golfing, of course..  He came and went, only to be called back in right in the last five minutes of labour…Sometime we feel like we’re inconveniencing people.  And sometimes we really are.  But I also think that sometimes we need to realize that we actually do matter.  My doc was on a very infrequent day off, but my delivery really mattered to him.  There were others who could have taken over for him, partners in his practice, but the care of my baby actually meant something to him.  Sometimes people move in and through their inconvenienced lives to prove to people that they actually matter to them.  It boils down to relationship doesn’t it, and the fact that love really does.  And to be on the receiving end of that means a great amount. 

In those last few minutes, my OB stepped aside and gave my husband the spot to actually deliver Asher.  Pity he couldn’t have wiped his delivery fee too…but in that handing over….it was quite a powerful moment I realized, in hindsight of course.  The Doctor talked Michael through what he needed to do, but he gave him the responsibility to actually bring our baby into the world.  Michael’s gentle hands were the first to touch Asher.  I can’t help but see this as a picture of God guiding us in our everyday lives to be Jesus with skin on.  He’s right there, beside us, helping us, guiding us, but we’re His hands.  We’re the ones who need to step up and put hands and feet to this love we know.  

Where we were in America it was the law to fill out all the official birth paperwork before leaving the hospital. Including the birth certificate.  I have my suspicions that the time pressure for naming your baby results in some of the pretty out there names we see….but it did mean that we left the hospital with a bona fide American citizen, who is also a New Zealand Citiizen.  This dual citizenship isn’t something we take for granted.  While not everyone can hold dual citizenship in two earthly countries, all of us can have dual citizenship of sorts.  Heaven and earth.  And while some of us may be stuck with some very interesting names….let’s not forget what names God calls us.  Beloved.  Cherished. Friend.  Accepted.  Chosen.  Blameless. Complete. We can all learn to accept these treasured names.

 My prayer today is that you could catch a glimpse of just how loved you are. I can see God’s love, protection and provision woven clearly throughout all of Asher’s birth story…..and I know this same love is there for you. 

Happy and blessed is our Asher.  Happy and blessed are we.

 

With grace kissed cheeks.

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Rose-tinted glasses aren’t for everyone.  I’d prefer to try to have a fairly balanced, feet firmly planted on the ground, perspective on things.  Especially on things concerning the world of me, myself and I.  I thought I had a pretty good, a very realistic handle on my talents and abilities, limitations, giftings and failings.  I thought I did.

Then Love swooped down.

Why is it so much easier to look at the character traits in our children and people close to us, and although we may not always appreciate these traits at face value, we can see how they can be flipped and used for good, than to possibly say the same for us?

The bossy kid.  That’s leadership ability.

The stubborn child.  Well they won’t be easily swayed.

But in myself?  Well the negative, the lack, the gap between who I am and who I’d like to be, that’s always a bad thing. Always a sticking point.  Always a thing to block, ignore or explain away.

Until Love swoops down, kneels gently beside us, and grace kisses us on the cheeks.

I’ve been swept upon.  I’ve been blown away.  Regarding two separate specifics, who I thought I was, who I declared I wasn’t, they have been completely turned around.  I’ve been corrected and re-aligned, as only a Father with the very gentlest of touches can do.  This is the way, walk ye in it.  No longer shall you limit yourself in these ways.

You may be in a similar place to where I was.  Loudly proclaiming that there’s no way you could do x, y or z.  That’s not your gifting.  You’re not able to do that.  Or this part of you that others see as a negative thing, a hindering thing, is a stumbling block for you.

But maybe, God’s just waiting, lingering, hovering close, until you need to know that actually yes, your limitations are sometimes of your own doing.  And then, if you make room for him, then He’ll swoop down, and give you grace for the journey, grace for the task, grace for your own lack of ability, and He’ll make what you thought was impossible simply possible…..

And with that re-alignment comes a new confidence.  Because you know you’re not operating out of self and all that you know you can or cannot do – but what He is equipping you to do.  The path of obedience can be walked in confidence because God is leading the way, lighting the path in the dark places, and you can walk this new path with head held high because you are no longer a slave to fear and your own very cheeks, they have been kissed with grace.

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When Hope enters in. 

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I think there are times in many people’s lives where they feel stuck in their story, when pain and suffering acts as quicksand that they cannot climb free from. 

Sometimes the curveballs of life have a way of blinding us from seeing above and beyond our right here and right now. 

I’m no expert in grief and suffering, but I can speak from some experience. Sometimes you don’t know when it – pain, heartache, the great big balls of ugly we hold onto – will end. But. Times do get better. Relief does come. Scars do heal. And for me, the greatest times of poignant reminders that ‘this too shall pass’ have come about as a result of lifting my hands and raising my week, feeble, out of tune voice, and declaring God’s goodness in song.

There’s amazing power and healing that comes forth, when we acknowledge that even in the midst of storms, God is still good.  I titled this post ‘when hope enters in’, but I sincerely believe that hope is always there. God’s presence is always there. His never ending love. His provision. It’s just a powerful thing when we declare that with our voices, when something breaks in us, when our focus becomes clear again and focused on Him again,  that’s when hope re-enters our hearts. That’s where I believe we can find new strength for another day. In the midst of grief, heartache and suffering, that’s been my number one survival skill. Declaring His goodness. It’s almost a form of recalibration for the soul. 

‘We make a joyful noise. Let every rescued heart rejoice. Into Your presence we have come. With a song.  You’re good hallelujah You are good’ – Your Love Remains, Grace Vineyard Christchurch NZ

‘And I still believe You’re the same yesterday, today and forever. And I still believe Your blood is sufficient for me’ – Still Believe, Kim Walker- Smith

‘Blessed be Your name. When I’m found in the desert place. Though I walk through the wilderness. Blessed be Your name. ‘ – Blesed be Your Name, Tree63

Many, many, many times, when you’re going through schtufff you don’t have the right words to say, or the right people to say these stuffed up words to….and your heart may be quietly but steadily shattering, I’m so very sorry. I’m sorry that we walk through valleys of pain and that quite simply bad things do happen. But this I know. I know that I know that I know…when we declare/ shout/ quietly utter or even simply muster up the courage and energy to whisper songs of adoration to our God, then hope re-enters……

For me, worship ushers in Gods presence. Hope always re-enters. 

‘Even more than the answers to the question, why? We need an affirmation of God’s presence in our grief’ – Philip Yancey. 

Life Interrupted

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Wouldn’t it be nice if life ran to our agenda, to our timetable? Wouldn’t it be nice to be in total control of the events of our days? But we’re not. And life, especially with little people in the picture, has many an interruption to its flow.
I’ve just done a little stint as a solo parent…not my favourite thing in the world, but when the Spunky Hunk’s work beckons him away, away he must go. Thankfully it doesn’t happen much….but every time it does it makes me realize how amazing the people are that have to parent by themselves day in and day out. When you’re the only person brushing little people’s teeth, washing dishes and reading stories – it gets tiring. And the interruptions that happen to your day seem even more frustrating. So I’ve been working on this.
When I have to pull out the toaster for yet another round of toast, just after I’ve put it away, I’ve been working on holding in that sigh.
When World War Three is erupting just as I sit down for a hot cup of tea, then I’ve been working on putting on my best diplomat’s hat and being reasonable, instead of erupting myself into Grumpy Mum.
When the kids are wanting a turn on the computer and I’m in the middle of ‘stalking’ my friends and their news on facebook, I’ve been working on setting up time limits and sharing properly.
Funny how it is the 37 year old who needs to learn how to share properly huh.

So I’m working on how I react to my interruptions. Working on the first response that I give to people. Working on my attitude.

Who is the best role for this? Jesus of course. I’ve been thinking about how his days were interrupted all the time. Here he is, on a three year mission to reach as many people as possible, and his days just keep getting interrupted. Wherever he goes people want a piece of him. The woman with the issue of blood. Jairus with his dead daughter. Simon’s mother-in-law. The list goes on. Jesus could go nowhere without sick people coming to him for healing, the task of providing enough food for the crowds that followed him and he can’t even attend a wedding, a joyous time of celebrating, without being called on to perform a miracle.

Yet Jesus didn’t hesitate before reaching out and helping. He faced his interruptions with love and grace and patience, and long -suffering. I’m sure he didn’t sigh with frustration either outloud or inwardly as I so often do.

In fact he turned his interruptions into opportunities to illustrate the Father’s love. To provide real answers and to fulfill real needs. The very interruptions that I face can be the same – they can be the opportunities I have every day to illustrate real love and patience with my family and friends. To show them that this life is not about ME and my needs and agenda, but rather about Him and me becoming more like Him.

That is my prayer today. That my interruptions become my opportunities.

Pain and ‘the others’

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I’m on a bit of a theme at the moment, with what I’m reading and the stories and articles that catch my eye…I’ve been looking  at ‘pain’ and ‘suffering’ partly because it is always interesting to see how Christians approach these topics, partly to process and refine my own views on these matters, and partly because I want to be a person that doesn’t just give pat answers to others who are hurting, but can offer real and honest empathy and hope and also have the ability to look at situations not just through my own limited lenses.  So these thoughts of mine may turn into a series, I don’t know…..but I’ll just roll with what may come…..

Deep down in my innerds I have an ulcer. I’m about halfway through my medicine to fix this here ulcer. In the meantime it is a little painful on some days on other days it is a lot painful and on other days I’m blissfully unaware of it. 

I’m not normally in the habit of sharing my medical woes with strangers, or even with friends, but stay with me, there is a point to all of this. You see at the time of the ulcer’s discovery, my specialist shrugged it off as something that was insignificant. No biggie. Nothing to worry about. However, because I could track the pain I was feeling, to the exact spot of the ulcer’s position in my innerds, my doctor listened to me and validated what I was feeling. And recognised that this issue needed attention and treatment. 

And here’s the thing…. I think we all have pain of different types, emotional, spiritual, and maybe even physical pain, that others have fobbed off as insignificant.  No biggie. Nothing to worry about. 

And so this pain hasn’t ever been dealt with. 

And so this pain has maybe grown, and taken over more space than it should have ever been allowed. 

And so this pain has become a barrier to victory and progress in other areas of your life. 

We all work really hard to deal with physical pain. We have plenty of tools at our disposal to ‘fix’ our physical bodies. We have treatment plans and big pharma in our corner…..but maybe we all need to put a little more effort into firstly identifying emotional pain, and then doing something about it. Just maybe, aye. 

When I look around me and identify the funnest and most joyful people in my circles, they are without a doubt the people who carry with them the least amount of baggage.  They may have had very eventful journeys and they may have walked hard, hard, hard and dark, dark, roads, but when they talk, I lean in and I listen up hard. For these people have chosen to deal with their schtufff, no matter what ‘the others’ have said. 

I want to be a person who can walk through each chapter of life, embracing it for what it is, not tied down by yesterday’s worries and cares. Baggage-less. And victory-ful.

Let’s work together on being wise and being mindful of what pain in our lives needs attention and a little extra loving, what parts of our innerds need healing. We’re all walking wounded in some way or another, but we CAN be each other’s crutches and we CAN make easy the way to the Great Physician.