The Spotlight of Hope. 

Last week we all celebrated having an extra day in the calendar year. The 29th of February. Leap day. It’s a cool but weird thing, right?

Dear friends of mine both celebrate their birthdays on leap day, and one of the many special things about these friends is that they are Mother and Son. Apparently the chances of a Mother and Son both having their birthdays on a leap day are two million to one. Groovy.

Anyway, I was chatting with someone on leap day, about leap day. Let’s call that someone ‘Mr X’.  Mr X was kind of befuddled about the whole leap day thing. He couldn’t work out if having this extra day was in fact a blessing or a curse. Something to be celebrated or something to endure. He came to the conclusion that to him, that extra day we get every four years is really just another day to go through the machinations of life.

And I could see where he was coming from.

Because although Mr X is a great guy; he’s a devoted husband to his wife, and a present and caring Dad to his kids, as well as a good son to his parents and a great buddy to his mates, he is all of this, but, by his own admission he’s living a life with no huge purpose. Just living to get by. Living to provide.

So one extra day, to carry on, carrying on……..that’s a little depressing, right?

Believe it or not our conversation was light hearted, and we both ended up having a bit of a laugh over this extra day weird weird weird business. But I’ve been thinking about the conversation ever since.

I think the biggest difference between my view of an extra day to live, and Mr X’s view, comes down to the very fact that I live with a greater sense of Hope. To me it’s a cool thing to have had that extra day, because it’s another day to be alive. Another day to admire God’s creation. To adore His creativity. To embrace the fact that I get to love my family and to reach out to others I see, to offer encouragement, and speak and write words of life.

Hope. It makes all the difference in the world.

And so, this is my heart’s cry, because I’ve seen Gods fingerprints of grace and I’ve seen the spotlight of hope beam in front of my path, time and time again.

I’ll never forget the time I was driving at night and a man stepped out in front of my car, forcing me to stop, and then he tried to climb in to the car. Being a Christ follower doesn’t mean that the world is never a scary place.  But it does mean that when we walk through the waters, God will be there.

I’ll never forget the anguish and heartache I felt at having to have my unborn, life-less baby taken from my body, and the recovery process that my weakened then forty kg body had to go through. Yes I suffered through thoughtless words from some but I was also offered plenty of hope, through those who were present, and as the Father heart of God became truly alive for me. As I learned first hand that God grieves when we grieve. Christ followers are not immune to hardships in any way, shape or form, but we have do have a blessed assurance in the form of a ‘peace that passes all understanding’. We learn that things don’t always have to make sense.

I’ll never forget the utter loneliness and all the feelings of self-doubt and self-criticism that came with being ‘new’ time and time again. But paired with that, I also know the freedom of finding my tribe, finding my people. Of relaxing into who I am, and knowing that is enough. Of being offered hope in the forms of being loved and accepted, just as I am.

And because I know what real hope is, I know what it is to be loved with an everlasting love. I know that this gal, who still second guesses herself way too much and says all the wrong things at all the wrong times, and feels vastly inadequate for all the things she dreams of doing……this girl has hope. Hope that enables me to smile genuinely even when the going is tough. Hope that comes in the form of energy when there really by all accounts should be no fuel in her engine. Hope to offer love to all.

And so the leap day we had last week was the gift of an extra day. An extra day to spread a little Hope.

Today was another day to speak words of life, words of hope.

And tomorrow will be another day, full of opportunities to breath life into dry bones.

If you don’t truly feel this way, if you feel a little like my friend, Mr X, I get it. Life is a messy and hard thing. But for me, the messy and the hard becomes tidier and easier, when I choose to believe that God grieves when we grieve, that His presence is for accessible for all, and I’m loved and accepted with an everlasting love. People say to give peace a chance, I say ‘give hope a chance’. Read a bible. Talk to a friend who is a Christ follower. Reach out to God. He’ll meet you where you’re at. This I know.

Hope changes things. It gives purpose and adds value. What an incredible gift.

~ In loving memory of a friend who lived a hope-filled life, and embraced each day as the gift that it truly is ~

The stuff that changes things. 

 The above wee ditty……it is a little (or a lot) cheeky, right?  I’m not sure I’ve ever done that to complete strangers….but if you promise to not tell the PC Police,  I’ll admit to saying it to family members on the odd occasion…..all in the name of teaching manners. Of course.  You’re welcome.

The above wee ditty got me thinking.

That’s almost always never a good thing.

You see I often tell my boys that ‘manners maketh a man’ and that ‘manners make the world go around’.  With my work in customer service I’m on the front-line as far as manners goes…..and I’ve noticed that most people respond really well to being thanked and spoken pleasantly too.  That’s nice.  Of course there are always some members of the public who make a memorable impression for all the wrong reasons, but I honestly think that if you’re proactive with your pleasantries, then there isn’t a lot of room left for nastiness.

I’ve also been thinking about culture and those things that are buried deep down in a people group.  I’ve lived in four different countries and have found that each place has had many cultural differences from what I had previously known, and these cultural differences take years to learn, understand and sometimes even appreciate.  But they are exciting, and valuable and each play an important role in their people group.

Just as people groups do have cultural ‘things’ that are intrinsically theirs, I do wonder if sometimes we accept certain behaviours and happenings that we don’t agree with, because we label them as possibly being a ‘cultural thing’ or a thing that just can’t be changed.  When really maybe we forget that we, ourselves, have the ability to change a situation by how we carry ourselves and by what we carry in us.

I think we can easily forget that we can change the atmosphere in a situation.  We can set the thermostat in our homes and workplaces.  We don’t have to settle for less than pleasant.  Sometimes this isn’t easy, sometimes this means we’re reacting in a polar opposite way to a situation than how we’d naturally like to react, but we have this uncanny ability to do so.  If we choose.

As a person who chooses to follow Christ, I do believe that I can pray to God and ask for wisdom when I need it.  And I always need it.  I can pray for patience when I need it.  And I always need that too.  More love?  More peace?  More self-control?  Yep, yep and yep.  I’m a work in progress for sure, but that ‘work’ means that I can change situations, I get to set the thermostat.

And that ‘work’, that’s the stuff that makes life all that much better.  All that much more peaceful. All that much more rewarding.

Today I was with some friends and we had the privilege of singing some worship songs with a dear soul who doesn’t have much longer here on this earth.  I’m certain that as we sang (thankfully the others can really SING, cos I certainly can’t), the atmosphere in that room changed.  Comfort entered in. We changed the thermostat.

This afternoon as one of my little boys sobbed his heart out because of a disappointment, his teacher was able to reassure him of his value as she gave him genuine words of encouragement.  She was able to speak hope into that troubled little heart, because of what she carries in her, because of WHO she knows. She changed the thermostat.

Tomorrow, as I deal with Joe Public all day long, I can offer him more than what he came into my workplace for: I can offer him a genuine smile, a listening ear and a heart that cares, because what I have to offer him is the stuff that changes things.  Its the stuff that brings hope to the hurting and relief from the striving. Its that stuff that’s called the presence of God. And the presence of God can change situations.  Big and little situations, all day and every day.  This I believe, because this is what I know to be true.  I can set the thermostat.

That’s the ticket, that’s the stuff.  What a holy privilege.

Bigger and biggerer.

On Saturdays I peel and cut up carrots. Well, to be fair, it is only one of the things I do on Saturdays, but there are so many of those jolly orange things that it feels like a major part of my day. Usually I work my way through 20 kgs of them. Last Saturday it was 35 kgs. Lucky me.

The good thing about prepping veges is that it doesn’t require a lot of brain power. Your hands just kinda get into a rhythm and it is ok for your mind to wander. So in prepping the aforementioned 35 kgs of carrots, I got to do a lot of thinking.

I was thinking about some things that had happened in my week, specifically in my other ‘work’. One of the privileges I have is to liaise with people and help to collate a weekly letter filled with prayer points, for people in our church. We call these people ‘intercessors’ because they make a point of interceding for others, of praying specifically for others. This past week, within 36 hours of sending out the weekly letter, I had heard back from three of the prayer needs that had been listed, and had been told that the ‘best possible outcome’ was now in place, regarding those three very different situations. Yippee. So good. They were ‘but, God’ situations.

So there I was peeling my carrots,  my stack loads of carrots, and I was also thinking about a comment I’d made to a friend in regards to the whole God answering prayer business. You see I get the feeling we need to pray some bigger prayers, and believe with all of our being that we serve a bigger God. A bigger God than we dare to hope for.

Nice sentiments, right?

But I don’t really care for mere sentiments. For things to make any real difference, for words to really count, I reckon there has to be some kind of action.

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Just before we left America my Spunky Hunk of a husband got really quite sick, really quite fast. He was fit and active, but within weeks he lost oodles of weight and had various symptoms signalling that something was seriously wrong. We didn’t really let on to many people just how concerned we were, but after he had been to see a Doctor and while we were waiting for various test results, the thought of the big C did cross our minds. To our relief the test results didn’t show any cancer, however it did indicate the presence of late onset diabetes (we later found out it was type one, insulin dependent).

You know I’ll never forget some of the feelings we had when we were in the not knowing phase of what was going on with Michael’s health. You don’t want your mind to ‘go there’, but it does. You do wonder about chemo and radiation therapy, about how best to prepare your children with how to handle having a sick Daddy, or worse still, an absent Daddy. That’s just the tip of the iceberg really.

Thankfully my Spunky Hunk is just fine and although the diabetes is a pain in the butt, it means that Michael can still live a full, full, life.

You know how sometimes when you hear about someone’s bad news you feel really bad for them, and you commit to pray for them and you really and truly care, and then other times when you’ve experienced just a teeny tiny smidgen of something just a little slightly similar, and you hear of someone’s bad news and it just cuts you deep, and you REALLY feel bad for them, and you REALLY commit to pray for them and you really and truly deeply care?

A month ago friends of ours received some devastating news. Cas and Todd are a young couple, with two small children. They are Americans who are overseas missionaries to Guyana, but are currently stateside where Todd has been rebuilding a plane for their mission organisation to use back in the jungle. Out of the blue, their plans have been halted by the discovery of a tumour in Todd’s abdomen. A tumour that is inoperable as it is now, a tumour that may or may not respond to chemo, but if it does, and it shrinks, then it may be able to be operated on. Already Cas and Todd have uprooted themselves from Tennessee and are now in Seattle, Washington so that Todd can be in a hospital that specializes in the particular type of cancer he is facing. You can follow their story here as Cas so very beautifully puts words to their experiences, feelings and realities.

And so I feel deeply committed to praying for Cas and Todd. And I feel desperate to do anything I can to help. Because as I peeled my 35 kgs of carrots the other day, and as I wondered how I can really start living as how I believe, living as proof that my God is a big big God, I realized that’s the wonderful thing about the power of the Internet…….this is one way I can call on my big big God. I can pray some bigger prayers and I can enlist your help, wherever you are in the world….

Would you join with me in praying for Todd?

Let’s pray that his tumour would shrink. That the chemo will work. That his side effects will be minute and very bearable. That the tumour can be removed. That any cancer that may have spread would just disappear. That Todd may have full health. For strength for Todd for every part of this journey. For strength and peace for Cas as she walks this journey with her best friend. For dear little Amelia and Sam, as their lives have been turned upside down, may they know calm, peace and certainty in this very uncertain time.

Please add Todd to your church prayer list. Please ask your praying Grandma to pray for this situation. Please mention his needs to your private facebook group for praying friends.

Because our God is a big, big God, and He is biggerer than Todd’s cancer.

And I reckon He’s itching to hear ALL your prayers, for ALL your praises and concerns.

I can’t mention Cas and Todd and their need for a healing, without also letting you know they need help financially too. Yes, the reputation of outrageous hospital bills in America is true. Yes, they have health insurance, but that doesn’t cover everything, and certainly doesn’t include the cost of a cross-country move, ongoing un-budgeted for gas costs, and a thousand and one other things demanding their pennies. If you feel that helping them out financially is something you’re able to do and would like to do, especially our friends in Oregon who will remember Cas and Todd, feel free to flick me an email and I’ll give you the relevant info.

Thank you for your prayers, and thank you for joining me in my belief that my God is a big God. And don’t be surprised when I bring you more updates and prayer requests, from a mind wandering from prepping carrots.  Piles of them. Weekly.

Hitching up yer big girl pants.

I learnt a lesson  the other day. And, like most lessons, this lesson was learnt the hard way. And I got to thinking that maybe, just maybe, someone out there in the interwebs may need this gentle wee reminder that I received as a result of my stoopid  valuable lesson.

My lesson started on a Tuesday. My Monday was great, fine, all good. Then Tuesday rocked along. And my week suddenly turned a corner. My Tuesday became a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. And then my week became a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week.

You see on the Tuesday someone asked me a question about a certain aspect of my life. And in that moment, with my reply, I chose to be a little vulnerable, and a lot honest, and I gave this friend of mine a candid and genuine answer. Which happened to be mixed with some negative feelings and some blinking back of some tears.

Now that’s not the cause of the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day turned week…

Nope.

There’s great value in being raw and real with people, and I didn’t regret sharing that piece of my heart with my friend.

Nope.

That was good. We need to share our burdens with our ‘people’. The less masks we walk around wearing, the better.

My terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week simply happened because I allowed my attitude to stink about a few things, following on from that initial conversation and carrying on for the rest of the week. Doesn’t matter what those things were because my life is such a random mix of responsibilities and obligations, joys and sorrows that whatever I had a ‘tude about will never be exactly the same as what your ‘tude may be, but you’ll find the principal is the same. If you dwell on the stink, and allow the stink to rob you of your joy, then, yep, you are gonna experience a spiral downwards. And that slippery slope ain’t pleasant.

So I’ve learnt there is a fine line between giving honest answers to friends, and showing them your real feelings regarding things, and then carrying on with holding onto those feelings and letting them have too big a stronghold in your life.

Life can’t be all sunshine and roses. Not all the time. Sometimes you may be in a situation where you may well feel fully justified to feel sorry for yourself. But I know, that I know, that I know, that often you can change a situation a whole bunch, by how your change your perspective of it. How you change your attitude. That whole attitude controlling your altitude business. You’ve probably heard all this a hundred times already. I know I have. But there’s nothing like getting a migraine from your stinkin’ thinking to remind you of how important this is.

So if you’re in the middle of a hard situation, if you’re feeling the squeeze between how you know you should be feeling and thinking and reacting (ie. positively) and what your situation is actually dictating to you….have a think on this…

……your situation may be stink, but you aren’t.

…..you do have a friend who can stick closer than a brother, right by your side.

…..most things in life are temporary…..all deep and dark tunnels have to end at some point and you have to be reunited with fresh air and real sunlight, at some point.

Sometimes the best thing you can do is to be honest with yourself, honest with some trusted friends, but then hitch up yer big girl pants, and face your problems, face your realities, head held high, chin up, teeth gritted if you must…..because you can do whatever it is you are called to do. You are not alone. You are equipped – as a Christ follower I believe I have certain tools at my disposal to help me in my everyday life…’truth, righteousness, peace, faith and salvation are more than words….God’s word is an indispensable weapon…..’. Grabbing a hold of all these things, when life is good and when life is bad…..gives ease to your journey.

There’s so much to be said for just hitching up yer big girl pants and dropping your ‘tude. The world is just more of a beautiful place. I lost sight of that during my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week. I hope I don’t loose sight of that anytime soon.


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Finding the delightful in the different.

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This is for any parent who has ever had to sit through an ‘assessment’ on their child.

For every parent who has had developmental milestones clearly spelt out for them and been told their child fits outside of the normal parameters.

Gulp.

For every parent who has sat through an ‘indivualised education plan’ meeting, appearing as their child’s advocate as best they know how.

That’s never easy, not even for those who have walked this road for years.

The size of your child’s gap between what’s considered ‘normal’ and where they actually are, doesn’t actually reflect how big or small your feelings towards this situation could or should be.

Feelings are feelings, reality is reality.

What you have to shoulder each and every day, is no light load.

The grief you may face, knowing your child’s future will quite likely be rather different to their siblings realities, and the hopes and dreams you may have had for them, have had to morph into something different, to your early dreams for them.

I don’t know what challenges you face in your daily life. I don’t how how hard you have to fight to keep a smile on your face, to keep one foot walking in front of the other. I suspect that you rarely get a break, that sometimes people don’t know how or what to say to you, that you’re used to living in a constant state of exhaustion.

However there are parts of your story that I do know. I suspect if you were to sit me down and share your heart with me, I have an inkling that there are certain things you’d want to make crystal clear for me.

I think you would freely share that even though the tiredness is never-ending, there are still snippets of joy and of hope in your days.

I suspect you’d say that yes the appointments, assessments, meetings and therapies are ongoing and are costly in more than one way, but you’ve come to realize that these professionals are (mostly) on the same team as you, with your child’s best interests truly at heart.

I reckon you’d state, with eyes blinking away the tears, because you’re real and you’re raw, that you’ve come to find the delightful in the different. You see that what sets your child apart from others in how they see the world, or how the world sees them, and you can find some true delight in that.

And isn’t that the thing that makes every parent’s heart swell, in each and every child ? Your child is delightful. Your child has a purpose, your child has a place to belong, your child has unique giftings and talents and abilities.

Your child may well be different, but often, that’s the true beginning of real delight.

Space on my sofa.

I couldn’t tell you what was served in the buffet at our wedding reception. I know it was fun choosing the menu, but I can’t for the life of me remember what was placed on my plate that night. (I do have other wonderful memories of that joyous day though). However, I can describe in great detail the meal we had at the top of the sky tower, celebrating an anniversary with dear friends of ours. As the restaurant moved in a steady 360 degree pirouette, we repeated the same conversation every time we came to the same point again. And again. And again.

There’s a building in this city, that I try to avoid driving past. It isn’t a bad building, it isn’t filled with bad people. It’s to do with what happened in that building, many many years ago. When medical professionals begin a sentence with ‘I’m sorry’, you tend not to have warm fuzzy feelings associated with that place.

The day that glorified dragonfly of a plane delivered us to a new city that was to become our new home, in a new land, my family took up half of all the seats on the plane. As I lugged a sleeping preschooler up to my shoulders, and held on for dear life to the handrail on the stairs,for more than one reason, the heat from the hundred degree day embraced me in moments.

Memories sure are a strange cast of characters in the story of our lives.

I’ve just read a beautiful, soul stirring book, prescribed for me by a Doctor friend. A collection of memories written in a most exquisite manner. Normally when reading such gold, I’d want to share the nuggets of truth and wisdom with all my friends in all the lands. But I’ve held off doing so this time, and instead relished the very personal nature of these memoirs. From one broken soul to another.

But there’s one delicate thread that the author has delicately woven throughout her essays. And it stood out to me, as if this thread was coloured highlighter yellow, against a background of white and grey. Anne’s writings are full of companionship; of facing life’s trials, joys, highs and lows, but facing them with others by her side. And it’s this presence thing that keeps blasting me from every direction.

Some of my memories make me breathe deep and even. Pulse steady and eyes bright. Other memories cause my breath to be short and shallow, with my pulse quickening, my heart racing. We’re reactive beings. Being a bible believing, Holy Spirit filled person, doesn’t stop your body from reacting as it naturally does. But the memories I have that cause my spirit to lift, that bring out all the wrinkles around my eyes, are nine times out of ten the memories I have that featured people by my side. Circumstances may have been hard,  but I was not alone.

This reminder I’ve been given about the importance of companionship, makes me want to have space on my sofa for more. I want my living room door to be one that opens freely and frequently. I also know that there may be times when I need to curl up on my sofa, and have someone else place my snuggly, soft blanket evenly over me. There may be days when someone else potters around in my kitchen, boils my kettle and brings me something warm and nourishing, to be placed on my sofa arm. But what I really long for, is to create a space for others. I want to rearrange the cushions around you. I’ll even hide the one that’s dirty. I know it’s there. I’ll whip up something tasty for you, and I’m working on growing my tea collection, to find something that will just tickle your tastebuds. If you need my snuggly, soft blanket, I’d be delighted to place it over you.

If I ever write a book of memoirs, then I’d like a photo of my sofas on its cover. I know the importance of companionship, I know the blessing of ‘presence’, I just hope and pray I can live it. That I can reach out beyond my four walls, that I can see and respond to others who need my hand of friendship. Come, come friend, come and sit over here. Along with that I hope and pray that I will know when to swallow my pride and step into the unknown with all its vulnerable fragileness during those times when I’m the one who needs to have someone put the kettle on for me.

Memories and companionship. That’s a good mix, right? There’s room on my sofa for you, my friend.

May Peace Be Yours.

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).

Pain and ‘the others’

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.