Glory At War

Stalker

2007-11-21T09:03:00.000+11:00

In about 30 minutes I'll be standing in a witness box at the magistrate courts. The past few months I have had a stalker. So today an intervention order is happening. I'm a little bit nervous.

Who cares?

2007-11-07T16:47:00.000+11:00

Man, it feels good to be home. I'm really missing this blog. I wish that I could write in it everyday. Each day is full of new possibilities, new adventures, new testimonies, new lessons- I'd love it if I could write about my days all the time.

I hate old testimonies. I mean, testimonies are great... but I hate living in the past. So to me, I feel it'd be a waste to share a story that happened two weeks ago. Bring on the new. I figure that as a Christian, if you aren't always learning and growing and seeing things take place, then... What are you doing? What's your walk with God like? I hate complacency and apathy. To many of you, you probably think I'm too hard on myself. Perhaps in a way I can be. But I just despise getting to a place where I'm not changing. That's when life becomes boring and mundane.

In my job I'm always facing new challenges. It kinda makes life away from work seem like a breeze. The things that used to weigh me down and stress me out no longer do. I guess once you have stood as a tall strong man screams in your face about how pathetic you are, you no longer care about tiny issues like 'who did the dishes and who didn't' or 'what she thinks about him who thinks about her bla bla bla' Who cares. It's pointless. Meaningless. Each day I'm given a reality check about life. Financial issues are no longer a concern. Why stress. Why worry. It says clearly in the Word that God will provide our needs such as food and clothing and shelter.

One day I was working with a man who was seeking a bed that night. He was so stressed. So so so so anxious. And ofcourse, why wouldn't you be, you're trying to get off the streets only to be tossed back into it again. I looked at him and said to him straight out, "I'm not a normal social worker. I pray before I do things." He was keen to pray, so I began to pray and I read to him Matthew 6 about not worrying. Two minutes after we finished praying the phone rings. A bed was available. Just like that. Why worry? Why stress? God has it under control.

Kit-kat obsession.

2007-10-18T12:53:00.000+10:00

You'd think I'd be fat with all the Kit Kats that I eat. I guess you could say it's an obsession. Or maybe it's just an addiction, in that, if I don't consume my daily Kit-kat then I get the shakes.

And Diet-Coke. Yes, Diet-Coke is still on my list of priorities. I love to down a Kit-kat with that ice cold Diet-Coke running down my throat.

At least my addiction and obsession isn't heiroin. Or alcohol. Or any other drug, for that matter. Man, everyday I work with people who have allowed drugs and alcohol to rule their lives. I've seen how it affects them, I've seen how it kills them. Steals their joy. They become so dependent on them, that they forget all rules, forget all morals- they'd do anything they could for their next hit.

Often at a night time, I'd jump in my car and go for a prayer-drive. So many times I've found tears streaming down my face. I question God, "Why have you chosen me to work with these people?"

The cry of my heart is for God to release more faith. Because, I see these people with their problems, alot of them with mental health issues.. I see their lives. Bottom of society. No hope. The ones that everybody else has given up on. It's a temptation at times to just think... Well, I can't bebothered. Who cares? I want a nice easy life and deal with nice easy people.

But no. God has placed me here. And He has placed a passion and a cry in my heart. Even when I just don't have the energy to keep on going, He'll keep on pushing me. And He keeps showing me. He shows me who these people really are, who they were supposed to be before the demon of drugs took over. Or mental illness. He shows me His love for them, and He opens my eyes and allows me to see the life that they can live.

That's what keeps me going.

If they don't want to dream for themselves, I'll dream for them. I'll dream the dreams that God wants them to see. And I'll pray. Prayer is the key. How often have we seen social workers work with these people but see no true change? No true transformation. It's a circle.. it keeps going and going and going.

I'm tired of the circle. I'm tired of seeing no change. I'm not prepared to just work with a person for a length amount of time and to not see anything change in their lives... Sure, maybe they'll have housing and clothes. But how long will that last before their demons destroy their lives again?

Prayer is the key. Prayer is the answer. It's only Jesus who is going to break the circle.

So it's Jesus who I will bring to them.

Running.

2007-10-11T08:42:00.000+10:00

Today I woke up at 6:05am with the sun beaming through my window, warmly planting itself on my right cheek. For the first time in... forever.. I woke up feeling full of energy and life. After battling through for the past few months, not knowing if I was going to survive, I woke up feeling like today was a new day. So I rolled out of bed and decided to begin my new journey of a new life by running.

I haven't ran in ages. In fact, I think today may have been a first. But I ran around my neighbourhood, through the parks, the trees. It was beautiful. Spring, I love it.

As I ran and felt my heart pounding through my chest, I could feel a weight drop off my shoulders. A weight that I have been carrying for too long. I felt joy surge through me. The Holy Spirit spoke to me, and it was a beautiful morning.

The past few months have not been in vain. I've been walking through a testing season, and having to take a look at myself. There was so much in my heart that I needed to change. It hurt. But God has been by my side all the way through it.

Tomorrow morning, I think I might go for a run again.

Beauty of death.

2007-09-11T16:51:00.000+10:00

Death can be a beautiful thing. At least, that's what I'm trying to tell myself. The past week has been about laying things down that I've held close to my heart. Well, just one thing really.

Last night was the finalee (spelling?). I'm not going to say it was easy. I cried many tears, in front of people I wish would not see. It died. After all these years. It died. Something that I thought would last a lifetime. No, it died.

And it needed to die. Now I can move on and re-focus. It's time for a new season. Sometimes it takes death to walk into the new season.

Death hurts but it's beautiful.

When the tears fall...

2007-09-10T12:14:00.000+10:00

I've had questions without answers
I've known sorrow, I have known pain

But there's one thing that I cling to

You are faithful, Jesus You're true

When hope is lost

I call You Saviour

When pain surrounds

I call You Healer

When silence falls

You'll be the song within my heart

In the lone hour of my sorrow

Through the darkest night of my soul

You surround me, You sustain me

My defender for ever more

When hope is lost

I call You Saviour

When pain surrounds

I call You Healer

When silence falls

You'll be the song within my heart

And I will praise You

I will Praise You

When the tears fall

Still I will sing to You

I will praise You

Jesus praise You

Through the suffering

Still I will sing to You

When hope is lost

I call You Saviour

When pain surrounds

I call You Healer

When silence falls

You'll be the song within my heart

I will praise You

When the tears fall

Still I will sing to you

I will praise You

Jesus I will praise You

Through the suffering

Still I will sing to you

When the laughter fails to comfort

When my heart aches, Lord You'll be there

When confusion is all around me

And the darkness is my closest friend

Still I'll praise You

Jesus praise You

-Tim Hughes

My Birthday tears

2007-08-30T17:00:00.000+10:00

On the eve of my birthday I spent it in my car crying. I was about to drive home and then all of a sudden I began to bawl. Not just bawl, but wail. It was groanings from deep inside of me. The tears just kept on coming. I sat in my car for about a hour before I was able to drive. It was the most heart wrenching cry I have ever had. But God released so much and I could feel His arms wrapped around me. My heart is breaking, but He is there restoring it.

As I whimpered I prayed, "Why God? Please... take this from me... take this from me... don't let me walk through this... again... But God, HAVE YOU WAY. Do what YOU WANT. Don't do what I want. Do what YOU WANT. If you want me to walk in the fire, then I will, but PLEASE GOD, I need Your strength and grace to do so."

Besides that... today has been a wonderful day. God blessed me so much! And I couldn't think of any other way to spend my birthday than to hang with those who live on the streets. I'm still at work and don't finish until late tonight. There is an aboriginal boy who is wanting to see me tonight as we do street outreach. He told me that for my birthday I can become aboriginal like him.

Anyways, happy birthday to me!

I thought he was dead.

2007-08-28T09:09:00.000+10:00

The past week I have been grieving the death of a man who never died. I guess now, I understand how the disciples would have felt when Jesus was crucified. They believed he was the King, they had full faith in Him, yet in the natural Jesus died and that was that. I'm sure that disappointment, discouragement and a whole lot of other feelings would had been their friend at that moment.

That's how I had been feeling. Disappointment. Discouragement. Hurt. Bewildered. Believing that Jesus was the resurrecting life, yet watching a man die before my eyes. Grief overwhelmed me as I left the Intensive Care Unit not having seen my prayers answered and being told that the life support machine would be turned off.

And that is what I was told. That he had passed away. So for the past week I have shed my tears and went on with the grieving process. Questioning what it was in my life that prevented the hand of God to move in this mans body?

Yet, an unexpectant turn happened. It blows my mind still. I was just told that he isn't dead. He is alive. Right before the pulled the support machine, he began to respond.

So, today, I went back to ICU to see him. He was in bed, no longer in a coma. He was able to squeeze my hand. Open his eyes. Move his body. He is still sick, and has a machine that helps him breathe, and in alot of pain, but there has been so much improvement it is incredible!

God is so so so wonderful.

Next time, I will keep believing and I will not lose faith when it seems all is dead.

I came for food...but I found Jesus.

2007-08-27T14:08:00.000+10:00

I find it amazing that in my weakness His strength really is perfected. It blows me away that it is in my infirmities that the power of Christ may rest upon me. (2 Corinthians 12:9) I've been meditating on this Scripture for over a month now, and it has only really just began to hit me.

The other night I felt to listen to a preaching CD. So I do. It was on 2 Corinthians 12:9. Later on as I was in a deep sleep the Holy Spirit wakes me up. It's 3am. I ask the Lord "Why is it that you have woken me up?", and He says to me "Heidi Baker." Now, I haven't really heard too much about Heidi Baker, the name has been mentioned a few times, but other than that I knew nothing of her. I say, "What about her?". The Holy Spirit says, "You will live a lifestyle that she has lived."

So the next day curiosity gripped me in a real way and I do a google search on Heidi Baker. What's the first thing I read of hers? Living out 2 Corinthians 12:9. What a slap in the face. I'm pretty sure God is trying to tell me something here.

Anyways, on friday I felt my weakest and at my most empty. I felt like I had nothing to give. Yet, in my weakness God was able to move in strength and power. A man came in, drug affected, seeking food. But by the end of the conversation, he is weeping, God gave us favour to find him a place to stay, he commits his heart to Jesus, God takes the drugs out of his system in an instant... and he looks at us with tears in his eyes and says, "I came here searching for food, but I'm leaving with so much more. I found Jesus." I'm excited to see where God will take him. He is keen to get into Teen Challenge. I'm so in awe!

I had nothing to give of myself. Yet, it was in this infirmity that the power of Christ was able to move.

Aids man walks.

2007-08-21T14:10:00.000+10:00

In about 45 minutes I will be walking into the Intensive Care Unit. One of the clients from work was hit by a taxi and he is in a coma. Tomorrow the doctors plan on turning off the life support machine. I'm not sure how I feel. I'm going to pray for him and pray for a miracle. We'll see what happens.

Last week when I went into the hospital to see him I was unable to go in as the nurses were busy. I'm turning to leave the ICU and there is a young man in a wheelchair, looking very upset.

"Excuse me..." He says. "I've been looking for a hospital chaplain all day... I can't find one... Can I talk to you?"

"Uh... sure... yes that's fine." I say, looking at my co-worker. We take the man into a quiet room next door. He sits there drowning in his own tears as he tells us his situation. Dying of Aids. Only a few days to live. And how guilty he feels for screwing up his daughters life.

So we prayed for him and prayed that God would take the AIDS away. After talking with him for awhile, him crying and pouring his heart out, he gave his heart to Jesus! Almost immediately you could see a heavy weight lift off his shoulder.

The next day we came back to the hospital to visit him. Strangely, not too long after we had prayed for him, the man discharged himself and walked out of hospital. The dying man. Man in the wheelchair who could barely move.

God is a God of miracles.

Bhuddist petrol man.

2007-08-16T16:56:00.000+10:00

His pearly-white teeth were almost glow in the dark. It was his smile that captured me. I turned and looked at this smiley Pakistani BP Petrol service man and asked him, "Why the big smile?"

He laughs and says, "I smile because I see you."

"You smile because you see me?" Curiosity rose in my mind.

"Yes." He nods. "I served you a few weeks ago, you are a nice lady. A very nice lady. Always happy. And nice." He tells me in his broken english. Not knowing what to say I skip towards the door, and as I am about to leave the service station I turn back and say, "Jesus loves you!" I cringe at my own corny-ness.

"Wait!" He speaks louder now. "Don't go!" I stop dead in my tracks and turn to look at him. The smile on his face has disappeared. His eyes stare at me quizzically. "What did you say?" He asks quietly.

I take a few steps towards him and pause. "I said... Jesus loves you."

Silence.

"I am bhuddist." He tells me. "But.... p-p-please... tell me about Jesus."

Immediately I felt my spirit leap. I walk back towards the counter, stare into his face and say, "You want me to tell you about Jesus? He is the Truth. Are you prepared for me to tell you that bhuddism is wrong?"

"Yes.. please tell me."

So late last night, when all I really wanted to do was go home and be in bed, the Holy Spirit interrupts the night and leads me to this bhuddist man. We stood by the counter as I shared the Word with him and shared who Jesus was.

After sharing he stares at me and says, "I want to meet Jesus. I want to know him. Will you introduce me to him?"

Right there and then, in the middle of the petrol station, we prayed and he accepted Jesus into his heart. The presence of God was so strong and so thick, and the man was so hungry, that he also received the baptism in the Holy Spirit. And as he cried he lifted up his hands and declared to heaven, "Jesus I love you. Jesus I want to know you. Jesus, I am sorry. Jesus, speak to me. Jesus, I reject bhuddism. I cut all ties to bhuddhism. No more. No more. All I want is you."

Tears streamed down my face as I watched this man pray from his heart. Pray in truth. Pray in humility.

"Do you have a Bible?" I ask him.

He looks at me confused. "What is a Bible?"

It was then and there that I was hit with reality. In Ecc 3 it says that eternity is in the hearts of all men. This man knew nothing about the King but as soon as he sensed the presence of God and was hit with the truth of Jesus... he knew that it was the way, truth, the life. It clicked. Made sense. In his human understanding and knowledge he knows nothing... but what I carried and what I shared sat perfectly in his spirit.

I called my church today and arranged for a guy to follow this man up. I'm so excited to watch him grow in the Lord!

Seasons

2007-08-06T19:32:00.000+10:00

It is very important to understand and know the season that you are walking in. What is the current season of your life?

For me, with the season I'm walking in, the Scripture that is ringing true to me and encouraging me is 2 Corinthians 12:9. Read it. It is good.

I haven't wrote in this for awhile, and man, I wish I had more time to... Because I have so many stories to share!!!

I have to go now.

Remember: 2 Corinthians 12:9.

It is good.

Head connections.

2007-07-27T16:28:00.000+10:00

I wish I could tell you something that wasn't true. That the reason why I look the way I do was because of another reason, rather than my stupidity. I wish I could stand in the face of the crowd and declare that it was because I was the hero of the moment. That I was bold and courageous and stood in the gap for another human. I wish I didn't have to tell you how it really is and what it's really like. I wish I could yell and make a creed that I took a punch for one who perhaps didn't deserve it. That I ran in the midst of it, shoved my hands in their face and said "Don't you dare lay a hand on this precious girl. I'll take it. I'll take the punch."

Because, that's what it looks like. That's what it would seem. It would seem I'm the hero, the brave one. Full of courage. The one who chose to make change to the world for that derelict.

But no. I'm afraid not. I'm afraid that the reason why I have concussion and was taken to the doctors was for another reason. I'm afraid to say that the reason why I have a big lump protruding on my forehead, where the doctor promises that I will wake up in the morning with a black eye- it's not because I had a fist connect to my head. It's because I'm stupid. Clumsy. An idiot, really.

Today at work I was so energised. Ready to meet any surprises. Rumour was a gang was coming to stab another. And you know what, I was ready. I was ready for that challenge. My boss calls me over, I bound towards him. And as I do, I throw something in the bin and... BANG. My head connected with the metal pole. I choked on my food. And before you knew it, I had a mountain growing out of my head.

It hurt. It really hurt.

But I'm okay.

I just wish I could say it was because I took a punch, rather than I walked into a pole.

Three thoughts.

2007-07-24T09:15:00.000+10:00

- Today I'm taking a girl who lives on the streets to the movies. I'm looking forward to giving her an escape from reality. Speak life where there is death. Hope where there is none.

- Codral cold + flu tablets are my hero of the moment.

- Until the day God uses me to see a dead man raise to life... I know I am not walking in the fullness of what God has for me.

trials

2007-07-03T09:15:00.001+10:00

As I sit here in my office, a small smile cannot help but escape my face. I feel a glow on my cheeks, a dance in my heart.

It seems painful, but incredible. I'm yet again facing the same trials that were thrown in my face at the beginning of the year. Same hurt. Same problem. Same pattern. It's a temptation to want to throw myself on my knees and ask WHY ME, WHY NOW, MAKE IT STOP.

But this time it is different.

I refuse to compare myself to other people and to question why God is allowing this in my life. A thorn in my flesh. I smile, because I learn. I smile, because I can see what God is doing.. I can see His Hand.. I can see His glory in this.

Suffering as a christian.

It's a necessity for the development of our character. And oh boy, how much I want my character to reflect the character of Christ!

My new client helps put things into perspective. Reality is, what I face is nothing compared to what she faces. And what many other people face. She lives on the streets. She has no identification. She makes up her birth date. She makes up her name. She knows nothing. Has nothing. In the worlds eyes, she is nothing.

To Christ- she is everything.

Early this morning.

2007-06-27T13:14:00.000+10:00

It was so unexpected. If it wasn't for the blood curdling scream of my friend, I don't think I would have even realised for I was in my own world.

This morning was just like any other Wednesday morning. 5:30am start, rushing around the house. Quick, where are my keys! Oh no, I forgot my gloves. Musn't be late. Must hurry. Wednesday morning prayer meeting. You gotta love it. Be there before the sun rises, march up and down proclaiming the name of Jesus. 50 other people by your side, praying with you, sleep still in their eyes. Bed hair. Clothes not yet straightened.

Would never have thought it to happen. Not today anyways. The prayer had ended, one hour of seeking the face of the Lord. Boy was I tired, it's time to sit. Rest. Maybe close my eyes and prepare for work that day.

And here I am, sitting next to my friend. Enjoying the moment of it all. Everybody is milling around, chatting amongst groups. "What's going on for you today!" They'd say, quiet whispers quickly becomming yells.

It was such a comfortable place to sit and to watch and observe the actions of my peers. Nice wooden table. Metal legs. Big enough for the two of us. Hiding in the shadows... it's too early to socialise.

But then, it happened. It began with that scream. She screamed. It was at the sound of that scream that stopped the room into a deafening silence. It was the scream that turned all their attention onto us. Why did she scream? What was that BANG? Why are my legs hurting? And why am I falling?

This pivotol moment of rushing thoughts brought me to the revelation that something bad had happened. Quiet embarrassing really. Something that could only happen to myself. At the realisation of our sudden centre of attention I realised that I was sitting in between two slabs of wood. On the ground. Two slabs of wood that were once in union of being a table.

The table snapped.

My friend screamed.

And we fell.

The room was uplifted in the roaring of laughter.

Dying to self.

2007-06-15T08:48:00.000+10:00

I think I'm starting to get it. The same Spirit of God who raised Christ from the dead, lives in me. Therefore, I carry the presence of God. Whatever situation I'm in or wherever I go, I carry an anointing and God can use me to change the atmosphere of a place. The darkest of all places, God can use me to bring His light into those areas.

Collosians 3:1-4

If then you were raised with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God. Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth. For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is our life appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory.

Man, that blows me away. Does it blow anyone else away? God has been challenging me the past couple of months to live a sacrificial life, and to truly lay down my life. Die to myself. Die to my flesh, live for Him, be lead by HIS Spirit, do HIS will rather than MY will. To pick up my cross. To count the cost.

As I have been learning to do this He has been opening my eyes and showing me new things that is causing me to re-prioritise my life.

If I lay down my life, it says that I am then raised with Christ. Not physically speaking, but spiritually. If I lay down my life then my spirit is raised with Christ. Where is Christ? At the right Hand of God. His throne room. If I lay down my life then I am in the throne room of God and have throne room privledges. Right Hand of God. All it takes is to turn my head and ask in a gentle whisper... I'll know His heart, I'll speak His heart, and as I speak His heart in prayer He moves His Hand to move. Dying to myself causes my life to be hidden where Christ is, the throne room of God.

It's in the throne rooms of Kingdoms that decisions are made. Decrees are declared. Proclamations.

And I'm in the throne room of God.

As I walk into those dark places where those people are tormented by demons, I'm carrying the throne room of God. I'm carrying His presence.

With this in mind I have been walking differently. Setting my mind on the things of God and not on the things of earth. Not being deterred by what I see in the natural, but looking with the eyes of what I see in the spirit. Knowing that I'm a carrier of His presence. That He can work through me to change and transform lives. I am nobody, but in Him I can do all things.

Arthritis be gone.

2007-06-12T18:46:00.000+10:00

It was dark and cold and all I wanted to do was be in my nice heated car. On my way towards my car I notice three of my twelve year old girls huddled together. One of them was sitting on the gravel, rocking back and forth. The other two stood there stunned.

"Girls.." I approach them. "What's going on?" Looking down at the young one on the ground, I notice that she is clinging onto her knee for dear life and crying violently.

"I pushed her over, and she fell and hurt her knee and she wont stop crying and I didn't mean to do it we were just mucking around and and and i am sorry and she is hurt and..." Monique baffled on, tugging on her jacket sleeves.

"Slow down... it's okay... it was an accident. Emily, are you okay?"

She looked at me and wailed.

"It hurts IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS!!!!!!!"

I lean in close to her and and hug her, trying to calm her down.

"Why does it hurt so much?"

My question was met with a moan and mumbled sentences. Eventually Monique answers for her and informs me that Emily has arthritis. Immediately a hate rose up in me, a passionate hate for arthritis. All I wanted to do was rip it out of her. God, please, tell me what to do! Without hesitation, the Holy Spirit instructs me on how to approach this.

"Emily... firstly, you need to forgive Monique. Do you forgive her?" She nods in response. "No Emily, you need to look her in the eye and tell her." Emily looks at Monique and proclaims, "I forgive you Monique." The moaning stops and the tears no longer streamed down her face.

"Now Monique... I know you've only been a christian for two weeks, but it's time we combine our faith. Do you believe that Jesus is King of Kings and Lord of Lords?"

Enthusiastically she nods her head.

"No Monique, speak it out. Do you?"

"Yes!" She almost shouts.

"And do you believe that He can heal you? That all healing is in His name? That arthritis has NO place in your body and that it's a curse and Jesus took all curses on the Cross?"

"Yes!" She grips onto her leg and winces.

"Well then, let us pray." So the three girls and I began to pray and declare over Emily's leg divine healing. After a couple of minutes I stop, look at Emily and ask... "How is it?"

"It really really hurts.."

Normally at this point I would back down, pat the person on the back and tell them I'd keep on praying. But tonight, the Spirit of God gripped me. Faith rose up in my heart. Hate towards arthritis consumed me. HOLY SPIRIT, what DO I DO!

Make her act out in faith. Make her walk.

"Emily..." I say. "It's time for you stand up."

No no no no no no no no no no, she speaks in fear.

"Emily, in the Bible Jesus would often declare healing, and then ask that person to do something they couldn't do before. It's time you stand up in faith and believe for your healing."

Hesitantly she leans onto my shoulder and stands up. She winces. Tears stream. She's in pain.

Holy SPIRIT, I don't want to make her do this! It's too painful!!!! Is there something else for her to do!?

Make her walk.

But Holy Spirit...

Believe and do not doubt.

"Emily... let us go for a walk..." Together we held hands and slowly began to walk around the carpark. Each step we took she'd wince. Each step we took, I would ignore the wince and declare the name of Jesus over her.

Finally, she looks at me in shock. "It's done." She says. Laughter escapes her lips. "Jesus healed me!!!!" Emily begins to hug me. And then she runs off and dances around the carpark.

I laugh to myself. Thank you Jesus! Not only can I be in my warm car now, but You just gave me a big lesson in healing! Thank you!

Mornings.

2007-06-08T15:51:00.000+10:00

I am so excited. I have never been so excited before. Every morning, I wake up at 6:30am, and I am just about to bounce off the walls. If you know me, you'd know that I am not a morning person. Mornings scare me. Waking up is generally the worst part of my day, as I'm obsessed with sleep.
But things have changed.

At 6:30am, I'm fast asleep when my mobile sings it's lovely alarm charm. My eyes open. I roll over, turn off the alarm, put on my light, blast my worship music. And I'm ready. I'm ready for the day. I'm ready for the challenges. My spirit is soaring, my mind is racing, my body is so excited it could run for k's on end. Pacing back and forth in my room, I'm praying fervently. Today is the day. Today is a day I can make an impact. Today is the day I can see change. Today GOD CAN USE ME.

I love what God has done. I love how God has brought this job into my life. I'm so in awe of Him, so amazed by His grace and His love and His mercy! Everyday, I don't know what I'm doing. I have no idea. But that's okay. Because it means, when I know nothing... HE KNOWS EVERYTHING. He can move. He can use me. He is all powerful.

I've been receiving some massive revelation. Incredible revelation. Christianity is SO SIMPLE. So simple if we just stop letting logic and human reasoning and the patterns of this world get in the way.

Okay, so I promised I'd share my thoughts on Collosians 3. It's about time I do. Cannot get it off my spirit! It's daily on my heart. It's changed the way I think, the way I walk, the way I do life.

30 minutes later...
Just as I was about to embark with you all the incredible revelation that I received... a situation at work occurred and I had to leave. And now, it's time I go home! hah!

Perhaps next time.

2007-06-01T14:50:00.000+10:00

Life is fast paced and exciting. It's been one week on my new job, and already I have stories coming from every direction. The people I'm meeting and being able to listen to their life story.. it's amazing. It is such an honour and a privledge to feed the poor, help the needy, to journey through life with them. I'm learning something new everyday. And everyday God is working on my heart.

Fit To Drive

2007-05-17T14:15:00.000+10:00

Well, at this current moment I'm feeling very exhausted and empty and drained. It's amazing what can happen to your physical body after conducting a workshop.

At University we were trained up to run Fit To Drive workshop. The Victorian Police, RACV and TAC are really into it, and together we go into highschools and run this program. It's really quite good. When I trained up for it, I wasn't expecting to actually work in it. But two days ago, one of the main co-ordinators called me up asking me to help out. So I did. Today.

Anyways, enough about that. I have some news. In approximately 3 hours I will no longer be working in the job I'm currently working in ! Today is my last shift. I mentioned previously that I had some major life changes taking place... and well, this is one of them.

I'm so excited, I just got a job as a social/youth worker. Working with the Salvation Army in the city of Melbourne. The way it all came about was such a God thing. God's Hand was on it all the way.

Perhaps if I wasn't so tired I would share it. Soon. I will. When I'm more alive.

Anyways, after today i will no longer have access to the internet. Internet cafes here we come!

The Hurley Hoody.

2007-05-14T18:28:00.000+10:00

Dinner at my dad's. You beauty.

That's where I'm at right now. Sitting on my old kitchen table with my father next to me, staring at me with wide eyes to see how his baby daughter is handling life. Typical of all fathers, he hands me some cash in my hand. Knowing that he is struggling for money himself, it makes me realise how precious I really am to him.

Just as I am also precious to my Heavenly Father.

I really really really wanted to buy a new Hurley hoody. I know that sounds so materalistic and selfish and whatever else, but the truth is.. it's the truth. I wanted a new hoody. And at Christmas time I had been given a $50 voucher to a shopping center, which I had not yet used! So off I went to the shops. I find this hoody, as pictured, and loved it. It was $79.95. $50 was cool. But I didn't have the extra 30 bucks! My friend offered to pay what I couldn't afford. And, as a joke, I say outloud with my friend "haha God, if you feel like being cool, make this come up as a sale item on the computer... and give me $20 off.". I'm telling you. It was just a quick prayer up, one where I was joking. I wasn't even expecting it. I take it to the cash register, say hello to the sales man, he beeps it through and says casually...

"That will be $59.95 thanks"

My friend starts laughing. I go bright red.

"Uh... excuse me?" Just in case, you know, I heard wrongly.

"That's $59.95.."

"No no no ... I think you got it wrong... the tag says it's $79.95."

"Well you can pay the extra 20 bucks if you want... but they screwed it up... for some reason it's been put through the computer as a sale item, sooooo you get it as a sale item."

And with an awkward stunned look upon my face I hand him my $50 voucher and the extra $9.95.

"Sam..." My friend says, tears welling in her eyes from laughter. "Do you know how powerful your prayers are?"

I felt almost embarrassed. "I swear.. I was only joking!!!"

"Well.." She says. "God has a good sense of humour then."

Stories of my life Bible Art

2007-05-08T13:51:00.000+10:00

I love to write stories. I love to creatively share what is happening in my life. But what is so sad is that the two major stories that are currently unfolding, I cannot share in this. Wisdom says so. However, once the expected outcome arrives,.. trust me, I will be at this computer, fingers frantically typing away, sharing what exactly has been happening this year. I feel that the ending of this chapter is about to end... we'll wait and see.

I've been chewing on a Scripture these past few days. So many thoughts and revelations are flowing through me. Before I share these thoughts I would love to hear what you guys have to say about it, particulary you Mike Messerli. I love to read your thoughts and your wisdom on different Scriptures in the Bible, so.. tell me what you get out of this passage. And then I will share what I got out. We can all learn together! :)

In other news, I received in the mail a picture that Christop from Wonderful Awful Things created. I love it. I feel blessed. It is being framed and hanged on my wall.

Uni on a Saturday

2007-05-05T15:00:00.000+10:00

It's a Saturday and here I am, basking in the glory of my university library.

Saturdays are supposed to be about sleeping in, making breakfast, walking around in your pyjamas. Going to see friends, enjoy the park, enjoy a hot chocolate at Gloria Jeans. Shopping for that new perfect outfit. Watching movies. Eating rubbish. Talking on the phone, reading a book, going out for dinner with your mates. Laughing, and generally having fun.

But, no, today my Saturday was experienced and enjoyed in a classroom. I had a uni class on today. Oh what fun, what excitement.

Despite the day of the week and the thoughts of what I could be doing. I did have fun. I love my uni course. I love what we do, what we talk about. I love the people I spend the day with.

Cheri asked me in a comment whether I studied Writing. No, I do not. I've never actually said what I did at uni. But what I'm studying is a Bachelor of Youth Work. It's kinda like Social Work but more... youthy.

Yesterday in class I got really passionate. We were discussing something and it was tearing at my heart strings. Before I knew it I was on my feet passionately exclaiming my thoughts and my heart. People sat there in shock. I sat down, also in shock. Afterwards the police officer who was joining us and the other professional youth workers who were training us approached me and said "Thank you. Thank you. We need people like you in the field." I wanted to grab them by the shirt and tell them that all you need to do is read and live the Bible. But I didn't.

Afterwards, one of my peers approached me. He said, "There's something about you, and I want to know what it is. Do you want to join me for a beer?" I told him I didn't drink alcohol but I would love to have a Diet Coke. So off we went and we talked for a good hour. About life, our dreams, values, inspirations. I told him my testimony and he told me what he believed in. After I shared my story he told me he would go away and begin to ask God for an experience of Him.

Something is happening in my heart. Something is changing. This year has been so hard but I'm feeling such a breakthrough taking place. So many miracles have happened in the past week. Just in one week alone I've seen God move in such a way that 5 people have been healed and 6 people gave their hearts to Jesus! I'm excited by everything that is going on. God is so good, so faithful, so awesome!

Awkward shoe moments.

2007-05-03T11:19:00.000+10:00

I am wearing these really sweet blue shoes/heels from Sportsgirl. These are the shoes that I wear pretty much everyday to work.

However, it is so awkward. Perhaps I'm just too clumsy.

I keep falling over. The shoes have stretched and now I fall.
And I always seem to fall as I'm running across the busy main road... cars heading towards me... shoe falls off my feet... I keep running... I run back and grab shoe... freak out as I see oncoming cars... hair is waving everywhere... stumbling... fall over... heat padding my face... pick myself up... fix clothing... keep walking... trip again.

All so very awkward.

The boy.

2007-05-02T14:36:00.000+10:00

The 13 year old boy smirked at me from across the room. I ignored him and continued on with what I was speaking. But out of the corner of my eye I could not help but see that boy making gestures, crude jokes and laughing at the non-laughing parts.

Afterwards I hanged out in the highschool's hall, meeting teenagers and connecting with them. Telling them stories of when I was attending this school. A year 10-er approached me, fidgeting with his hands, tugging at his school tie, nervous smile on face.

"I err... I've been sick... Could you pray for me?" He says, eyes diverting my own.

"Sure! I would love to!" Excitement is caught in my throat. Looking around I gather some christian teenagers to pray with me.

We stood there in the hall, and placed our hands on his shoulders. The other teenagers looked at me, waiting in expectation of what to do next. And as they stared at me I noticed the 13-year old bounding towards me. Purposeful steps. Sarcastic grin on face. He laughed as he noticed us placing our hands on the year 10-ers shoulder. And in mockery, he copied.

Without hesitation I proclaim a prayer of healing, asked God to bless this boy, and generally encouraged him. After we prayed the 13-year old stood there in stun silence.

The year 10-er grins, nerves having fled, and tells us how he is feeling better already. I pat him on the shoulder and tell him he is a champion. His face is beaming and he runs off to tell his friend.

And I notice the 13-year old boy, following me around, watching my steps. I turn to look at him and smile. He looks back at me and blinks.

"That prayer stuff is pretty weird heh.." He says, chewing on his lip in thoughtfulness.

"Why do you say that?" Curiosity hangs on my every word.

"Well, when I put my hand on that guys shoulder... when you prayed.. I felt a jolt go from my hand, up my shoulder, into my chest. And now... well I had this bad cough for ages.. but now.. it's gone." A small smile begins to creep across his face.

Laughing, I give him a high-five and wink.

"God is pretty powerful you know!"

Stalker of the blogs.

2007-05-01T09:12:00.000+10:00

Talk about the smallness of blogging.

Yesterday after uni I was wandering around the city and I walked past this guy.

His name is Christop, and his blog is Wonderful Awful Things.

I absolutely LOVE his blog because it is so random and always has nice photos hahaha.

But man, it was freaky seeing him face to face. Funny thing is, he had no idea who I was. He just kept on walking, right past me, down Swanston street. So I turned around to follow him and work up the courage to go "HEY!!!! I READ YOU!!! And you read me!!!". But fear swallowed that up.

When I realised I was bordering on to being a stalker, I stopped following and kept going on my way.

Busking and Trusting

2007-04-26T16:17:00.000+10:00

There are two moments I wish to recap on in my life:

Moment 1:

On Tuesday night, the eve of Anzac day, I adventured into the heart of my city. I have noticed that my heart has been sick and sad and it was time that I put some ointment on it. "God, what do I need to do see my heart heal?". He whispered, "What you love." So I did. My dear friend and I went into the city, camera in hand. We spied on the people bustling by. We were entertained by the various buskers on the street.

One man that caught my attention will forever be imprinted in my mind. It was on Southbank, by the Yarra River. Lights reflecting on the water decorated the atmosphere. And there he was, sitting on the bench, microphone plugged in and guitar in hand. Singing sweet love songs. Husky voice. A voice that could melt a heart in a moment. Tunes echoed down the road. It was bliss. I stood there amazed by his art for quite some time. And as each song ended he would look up, smile at me, and begin another. But as he sang, I could feel something work in my heart. I could feel hope and peace. And, despite what the man was singing, I could feel the sweet glorious presence of God. His comforting arms around me. His quiet words of encouragement. He did a work in me that night.

Moment 2:
God is faithful. God is my provider. A test that I am facing at the moment is to trust God with my finances. Lack of finances and moving out of home has taken me to a new arena of faith levels. Here is a Scripture that God has been speaking to me:

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?
"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Matthew 6:24-35

So I have been standing on that and wanting to walk in that. Due to some circumstances, my last weeks budget did not include food. I had some bills to pay, and I refuse to be in debt. So, I went without food trusting God to provide. And He did. Not a day went by that I didn't have an empty belly filled. Anyways, in my carefully planned budget I had some money left over for an upcoming bill. Ofcourse, the Holy Spirit spoke to me and told me to give that money away.

"But God! I need that."

Trust Me.

"No but God... I really really need that."

Do you not know that I supply all of your needs? Trust Me.

So with eyes squeezed shut, I stepped out into the unknown and gave up that money. And sure enough, the Lord did provide! I opened up my internet banking today and staring wildly at me was a deposit of $200. Transaction details: Bank of Heaven. More than enough.

It was then that I TRULY really UNDERSTOOD that God is my provider. And He is not a liar.

Dead printer.

2007-04-24T16:30:00.000+10:00

The once buzzing with life printer stood in the office as if dead. It's grey form stood helplessly by the wall, begging for mercy and help. The friends and users of the printer glumly walked by, irritated by it's lack of printing ability and the allowance of their jobs being slowed down.

"Sam!" One of my managers exclaims from his office. "Could you please do something about the printer?" He asks.

With confidence smaller than a tiny seed, I walked across the foyer into the printing area.

"Okay" I think to myself, sucking in deep breaths as I try to scramble with my mind how to fix this problem. "I don't know the first thing about printers..."

"Please hurry..." My manager is exasperated, needing a document within the next few minutes. He explains to me that the printer died late last week and hasn't been resurrected since.

What to do what to do what to do...

I stare dumbly at him. His eyes are closed. Not a sound to be made. Perhaps if I press a button...

Nope, nothing.

What about this button?

Nu-uh. No can do.

Turning my head slightly to the left, I see my manager standing there whimpering as if he was a lost puppy dog.

Not knowing what else to do, I place my hand on the belly of my dead friend and silently pray "God, please let this work."

And immediately the printer springs to life and joyously spits out pieces of paper.

My manager wide eyed stares at me and asks, "How?"

Oohhhhhhh, he responds to prayer. I say.

Indigenous Australian

2007-04-24T09:03:00.000+10:00

Yesterday I did a presentation at uni on Indigenous Australians and the stolen generation. Just a short one, a synopsis of a reading, really.

But I was so wrapped up in the emotion of it all and the story of young Warren Braedon. As I stood there talking I felt all this passion boiling within me. By the end of it I had the other students in tears. My voice was shaking as I ended. Afterwards I felt emotionally spent. My tutor was also touched. I felt a bit awkward as just last week she shared her story as an Indigenous Australian. I was a little bit afraid that what I said spoke too closely to her heart.

When it comes to Aboriginals I get so fired up, so passionate, so stirred. It does something to my heart strings. I get ashamed of our history. I'm sometimes ashamed to be white Australian.

I want to do something, but I don't know what. I don't know if I have the right to do anything.

On my way home from uni yesterday I was so lost in my thoughts. I'm not sure if I have found my way out yet. Looking for answers that I don't know if I have.

The story of Warren Braedon is such a tragedy. Born in Alice Springs January 4 1973. Murdered in Perth January 4 1992. Just two weeks before he found his people. His land. His mother and father. Identity. Murdered because he was black.

I'm asking God... What can I do as a christian, a white Australian christian, to bring peace to our land. Peace to the Indigenous. Hope, love.. ?

Talking with two young Aboriginal men the other night at Swanston Street McDonalds. They shared their lives, their fears, their dreams. One of the men, 20 years old, had such a soft and pure heart. Wanting to make it in the world and do good. The other 20 year old man confessed to murder, all in the name of revenge. We have some hurt people out there.

2007-04-19T13:10:00.000+10:00

I'm in a whirlwind of change. Everything is happening so fast-paced. I need to hold on tight or I'm going to fall off this ride.

Ferris Wheel Ride

2007-04-18T09:04:00.000+10:00

The bright lights of the city cheered my spirit. I felt a joy overwhelm me as I walked the streets late at night. Chilled breeze kissing my cheeks. Jacket warmly wrapped around me. We walked and observed the people surrounding us. A young mum pushing a pram, rushing to the station steps. Bustling men having a gathering outside the pub. Youths chasing each other down the road. Homeless man begging for money. My mind wandered as I thought about these people... their lives, their upbringings. Their beliefs, values, interests. Where have they been? What have they done? What are their dreams?

I was caught back into attention as my friend by my side began to exclaim, "Look!!! A ferris wheel!!!". And my heart skipped a beat as I looked to where she pointed. In the middle of Federation Square, there it was. Pink, yellow, blue, green, purple lights dazzled the ride. Going around and around, high into the sky, was a ferris wheel that I wanted to be on.

"Let's go!" I say, quickening my pace. And without hesitation I mutter, "Lord God, if you feel like blessing us tonight. How about a free ferris wheel ride?"

As we reached the destination of the ride, I had quickly forgotten the spur-of-the-moment prayer I uttered. Skipping to the ticket booth we ask the man how much the tickets were. He greets us with a toothless smile and says, "It's 5 bucks per person." Shoulders slumped I respond with a short, "Oh." My friend and I looked at one another and shrugged in defeat. Perhaps another day, another moment, we can enjoy the ferris wheel ride.

Sighing to self, I look at the man with the toothless smile, face that hasn't been shavened, dirty clothes. "So... you like your job?" Thus, begins a 5 minute pleasant conversation with the run-away-farmer now working at the Ferris Wheel ride of Federation Square.

Conversation reaching it's end, we turn around and begin to walk to Swanston St Mc Donalds. About 10 meters away from the ride we hear a loud, "Oi!". Turning around I look to see the man operating the ride. Enthusiastically he is gesturing us to come forward. Looking at him with a confused gaze written across my face, he begins to jump up and down, waving his arms this way and that beckoning us to come towards him.

Without a thought in my walk my friend and I come within ear's length.

"Come on then! Get on. We'll give it to you for free!" He says, smile beaming from his face. Looking towards the toothless run-away-farmer ticket man, I am responded with a "Yes yes it's okay. You can have it for free."

With glee in our hearts, and thanks pouring from our lips we jump aboard the ferris wheel. Around and around we went. Shouting out our blessings!

Look at the lights! Look at the city! Look at the yarra! It's so divine!

Around and around we went again. The man running the ride would laugh and grin as we continued to go around, worth at least two rides worth.

And eventually, it ended. We jumped off the ride. Thanked the men. And they jumped in joy at being able to give a ride for free to two young women.

Checking in.

2007-04-12T11:27:00.000+10:00

I'm alive and well. It has been a week since I have even looked at this blog. Lack of internet has kept me.

I don't really have time to write right now, but I just wanted to say a quick HELLO. I miss writing here.

Over the Easter weekend I moved out of home. I'm loving my new place! It already feels like my home.

It has been a challenging week with God. He is constantly stripping me, exposing things in my heart, and doing a great work in me. It's very humbling. Hard. Humbling. Learning to be at that point where I'm totally surrendered to God and His will...no matter what it is.

Perhaps, if inspired, I will write again later today.

Finding God... part 4

2007-04-05T09:19:00.000+10:00

Continued from 'Finding God... part 3'

The people continued to sing their love to God. My eyes were wide as I watched them pour out their lives before their God. My heart beat loudly in my chest. Nervously I fidgeted with my hands. Tugging at my clothes. Cooly moving my fingers through my hair. Something was happenign to me and I couldn't understand what. All weekend the preacher would stop mid-sentence and declare, "There is someone here who needs to get their life right with Christ!" And each time I felt as though his eyes bore into mine. Surely he didn't mean me, ...did he?

But there was no denying anymore what this was doing to me. The world how I knew it was turning upside down. My comfortable existence of curling into a ball of self-hate and self-pity was being shaken. The... love?... that I could feel in this room was messing with me. It felt charged and alive, it made my skin crawl, it made me want to run away. I wasn't used to this. I wasn't sure if I could handle it. But at the same time, it was like a drug- powerful and addictive. One taste of it and it caused a hunger to arise in me. A hunger to want to find life and freedome and love. But how!? How do I get what these people have?

The answer occurred to me as they began to sing a Name with such sweet assurance.

Jesus.

Jesus was the answer. He was the answer.

Suddenly I felt all dizzy, I felt like a blindfold was taken off my eyes. Jesus. Quietly, afraid that somehow the people would hear me above the music, I whispered His Name. Jesus.

The song that was playing came to a soft hum. The singers on stage stood in silence, the keyboard and guitar played softly in the background. I held my breath as I wondered what was about to take place next. And suddenly, as if a violent earthquake erupted, the people began to shout praises. Sing their own song. Tears were being cried. People fell on their knees in surrender.

How do I get to this place? I thought. How do I find Jesus? How do I become one of these?

As if on cue, the people came to a stand still once again. Looking at the stage I watched as one of the singers looked to the heavens, bright eyed, bright smiles, shining... And they begin to sing a song that forever changed the course of my destiny.

Here I am waiting... They sing softly. A well of emotions found itself in my throat. Abide in me I pray... Here I am longing... For you...

Was this what it was? A longing? A desperation? A cry of my soul?

Bring me to my knees... May I know Jesus... More and More... The walls broke as they declared this song. I felt as though my heart was breaking, tears crawled its way down my face. Yes, YES! This is what I want! I want to know Jesus more and more...

And with everything I had, with all the strength I could muster, I raised my hands in the air as an act of surrender. Taking a deep breath, I began to sing the next words with all the love and all the meaning and everything that I was. All of me. Die to self.

Come live in me... All my life... My voice broke as I sang. Take over... Come breathe in me...And I will rise.. On Eagles Wings...

And in a moment I felt the love of Christ surge through my body. A heaviness and a depression lifted off my shoulders. Suddenly I felt so light, I felt so peaceful, I felt so... fullfilled. It felt as if I was caked in mud, and I was standing under a waterfall feeling the relief as the mud washed off. But it was on the inside. Where there was hate, I felt a love grow through my bones. Where there was sadness, I felt an indescribable joy leap through my body. A smile formed at my lips, laughter bubbled out of my mouth.

For the first time in years, I felt alive! I felt as though life was worth living. I felt an incredible love to these people and to God. It was the beginning of an adventure...

Part1

Part 2

Part 3

Moving out of home..

2007-04-04T10:03:00.000+10:00

For 20 years I have lived in the same house, same bedroom, same everything. 20 years of memories. Bad memories, good memories, memories that I want to forget, memories I don't ever want to let go of.

My room has seen all the trials, the tears, the joy and the laughter.

I even remember the first day of being at the new home. A 2 year old girl, high hopes high expectations. It's funny what you can remember at such an early age. On my little pink tricycle. Trying so hard to ride behind the moving truck. Dog yapping by my side. My little heart beating fast as I notice the little girl who was my new neighbour. This little girl and I were to begin a friendship that still exists today.

In my room, I remember all the play dates that took place as a young child. Dolls out. Soft-toys out. Imaginery games- playing mother and fathers, Teenager Nutant Ninja Turtles, Cowboys and Indians.

And as I grew older my room changed from the fantasy land of dolls and animals into teenage hood. Depression. Darkness growing. Hiding secrets. Self-harming. Death.

But as miracles took place my room changed from the den of death into the sanctuary of life. Hiding in my closet to read the Bible. Talking with Jesus. Hiding from the fears of the world and embracing into the arms of a Saviour. Everything that meant something took place here.

Finally, at last, I'm moving on. Boxes are being packed. I'm leaving the nest. Do you know how excited I am to be having my own place?

This will be the first time in my life that I can live in a christian household.

I feel like I'm about to go home.

New.

2007-04-03T11:23:00.000+10:00

I feel as though I'm about to step into something new. New territory. New ground. The unknown.

Fear tries to creep it's way into me, but I refuse to accept it. It's about a new level of trust. Trust in God. Hold His Hand. Don't let go. Steps of faith...

Finding God... part 3.

2007-03-30T16:10:00.000+10:00

Continued from 'Finding God... part 2.'

The walls were crumbling. I stood helplessly as I watched the people surrounding me worship their God. For the first time, my eyes were opened. The love was pouring out of their lips, out of their actions. Everything that they were, their whole being, was for their King. Studying the face of one of the girls I could see peace and rest and love and hope written all over her. Her eyes danced. Her lips were curved upright. Hands were in the air in adoration. Worship. Love. A laying down of life. It was a sweet aroma to a decaying mind. All this time I thought they were nerds. Geeks. Losers. But now, I realised, that I was missing out.

Earlier that day Nathan had approached me. I was flirting hoplessly with the drummer. And along comes Nathan. Good ol Nathan. Always smiling. Always caring. Always had a mystery veiled across his eyes. What did his eyes say? They were so real. It was as if they held a secret. A secret that I longed to know about. And here he was, smiling as always. Whenever he came close to me I could feel a sense of... belonging? Light? Yes, light poured out of him. That was what scared me most. The light. There can be no darkness in light. Darkness was my friend, and each time I was near him I would feel my body squirm.

He looks at me and says pleasantly, "Have you ever given your heart to Jesus?".

Shock abounds me.

My face crumbles, fists begin to clench. Who was this guy to ask me such an offensive question?

Cursing, I turn away and walk off from him.

But ALL DAY his question gripped me. Why did it send shivers down my back? Why did it cause the hairs on my arm to stand on end? What was it about him?

What is it about this place? These people?

The night before, the first night, I was stuck in a cabin room surrounded by squeeling girls. Alone I perched atop of my bunk bed as I stared down at them reading the Bible. The BIBLE!? Distant memories of wanting to read that Book haunted me.

Why were they so happy?

And now, I'm standing on the edge of a cliff. A decision is to be made. You must lose your life to find it...

part 1

part 2

part 4

Ouch...

2007-03-29T10:36:00.000+10:00

Wow. That's all I can say. Wow.
Life sure is exciting, isn't it?
Today I received some more news. It was like a sharp slap across the face. It's still stinging.
Will I trust God? What will I do? Honestly, I want to run away.

I waited patiently for the Lord;
And He inclined to me,
And heard my cry.
He also brought me up out of a horrible pit,
Out of the miry clay,
And set my feet upon a rock,
And established my steps.
He has put a new song in my mouth—
Praise to our God;
Many will see it and fear,
And will trust in the LORD.

Blessed is that man who makes the LORD his trust,
And does not respect the proud, nor such as turn aside to lies.
Many, O LORD my God, are Your wonderful works
Which You have done;
And Your thoughts toward us
Cannot be recounted to You in order;
If I would declare and speak of them,
They are more than can be numbered.

Psalm 40:1-5

Blindly.

2007-03-28T16:04:00.000+10:00

Right now I feel like I'm walking with my eyes closed. I cannot see ahead of me. Oh, I can feel the gentle guidance of the Holy Spirit. I can feel His firm grip in my hand, taking me one step at a time.
But I just wish I could see far ahead and see where He is leading me.

I'm tired of walking and not knowing. I'm tired of feeling things and not understanding.

It takes you to a new level of trust in God when you are in these places. This year has been a big test of my faith and my perseverance. A test of my patience. A test of my willingness to see how far I would go for Him. Boy, do I hope I'm passing the test.

All I can do is sit at His feet.

Laundry mishaps..

2007-03-28T09:04:00.000+10:00

I suppose I should tell you all about the finer things of life. About the drive I went on this morning, how pretty it was to see the sun budding behind the trees. To spot the kangaroo who was staring at me as I drove by. Or the cows that made the morning chorus.

Or perhaps I should tell you about my time with God last night as I drove around Melbourne for 2 hours. Taking a pit-stop to visit Butterfly Girl, a beautiful friend I had not seen in about four years.

But no, rather, I will recount the events that took place early this morning.

At 4:30am I was awoken by a deadly smell. It was so deadly that it shook my body, awaking me from my deep sleep. All my senses were on the alert. Panic set in.

What was that smell?!!!

Still in a dream state I began to imagine myself lying atop a dead carcus. Or worst yet, a pile of poo. Groaning I leaned over and switched on my lamp. For a moment I layed there with my eyes squeezed tightly shut, afraid of what may meet me.

It was only discovered that I was alone in my room. Everything was in perfect order. Except for that smell!

Covering my nose and my mouth I ventured out of my bedroom. Looking this way and that I was once again met with a nothing. Just a smell that could wake the dead. As I crept out of my bedroom the smell got worst. I could feel my insides squirming. My throat began to clamp up.
Eventually I reach the laundry, it seems that the smell was taking on a new level. Taking in a deep breath I slowly opened the laundry door.

It was horrible.

It was disgusting.

Vomit was climbing up my throat.

Greater than my imagination could ever fathom, I was met wtih a deadly sight. In the middle of the laundry floor was a big pile of dog poo. May I be graphic for a moment? It wasn't just poo. But it was worst. It looked like a pile of mud. Enough to fill a bucket two times. However, it didnt' end there. Not only was there the pile, but spread across the floor was all this poo. It was smeared into the tiles. On the walls. EVERYWHERE!

Eyes watering, body shaking, throat closing over I ran for it. Straight for my parents room.

MUM !!! DAD !!! GET UP NOW!!!

The rest of the morning was met with the exciting job of cleaning it up.

Finding God... Part 2

2007-03-26T23:07:00.000+10:00

Continued from 'Finding God... Part 1'

Hesitantly I climbed out of the car. One look at the place and I wanted to get back in and demand to go home. There was one lone small oval. Overgrown grass. Dead flowers. Trees with broken limbs draped over the building. The building was brown and ran down. A small wooden ramp hedged across the land with cluttered cabin rooms by its side.

Tugging on my friends jacket with pleading eyes I say to her, "Lets not do this. Lets go home. I made a mistake, I shouldn't have come."

It was a week since the incident in my bedroom when I heard the voice. And as I foolishly spoke to the roof asking if it was God and if He was real, I felt all the more stupid as I was responded with a deafening silence. My silent thoughts were interrupted by the shrilling sound of the phone ringing. It was my best friend asking me to come on a youth camp with her for the weekend. Reluctantly I agreed.

And now, a week on and I wanted to escape before it had even began. Before I could run off a man with blonde hair, blue eyes and a goofy grin comes bounding towards me.

"Heeyyy!!!!" He greets, with more enthusiasm I could handle.

"Hi.." I mutter, looking him up and down and sizing in my mind who this person was.

"I'm Nathan, it's great to have you at the camp!" He held out his hand in expectation of a hand-shake.

"Yeah.. it's... great.." I say, forcing a smile. Somehow I knew that this weekend would be life altering. I just didn't know how, what, or why. As far as I was concerned, I didn't want to know. I didn't want to know these people, their lives, or anything about them.

All I wanted to do was go home.

Yet, home was about to come knocking at my door....

part 1
part 3
part 4

Funeral..

2007-03-26T11:17:00.000+10:00

I'm going to a funeral today.

Finding God.. part 1

2007-03-23T14:43:00.000+11:00

The walls were caving in around me. My surroundings were weighing heavily upon my heart. As I layed on my back the thoughts that prevailed my mind suffocated me.

Death. Die. You're not worth it. Kill yourself. Die. Do it. Now.

I gripped at my clothes in anguish. On the floor next to me was a shoe, in frustration I fumbled for it and with all the strength I could muster I threw it at my wall. It hit the blue wall by my bed with a loud thud. My heart pounded loudly in my chest as I watched the abused shoe land on the floor.

Die. Death. Do it.

The thoughts continued. Eating at my brain, at my being. It was like cancer and it was unstoppable. I let out a whimper as I stared hopelessly at the roof of my room. Spread across my roof were glow-in-the dark stickers and I began to focus all my attention on the sticker of Earth.

"Who would create such a world only to allow us to hate it!" I wanted to shout.

What do I do to end this pain and this misery? How did I become such a pathetic 14-year-old girl living in such a hole of despair and darkness?

And as I felt my heart dying and my mind battling with thoughts of death, I looked at the roof and cried in agony.

"Samantha...." A voice said.

My mind stopped racing. As did my heart. Unclenching my fists I layed in silence to hear the sounds of my intruder.

"Who said that!?" Frantically I picked myself off the floor and whirled my head around to find the owner of the voice. Nobody was there.

"Don't be stupid! Tell me who you are!" With haste in my step I opened the door of my bedroom and looked up and down the hallway. It was empty.

In panic I began to race around the house checking every room to find who would speak my name with such authority. Yet gentleness. And stillness. Enough to calm my heart and my thoughts.

Eventually I stopped pacing, stopped running. With a fear and an awe that overwhelmed me I looked up and with a shakey voice I ask, "God... ? " I felt stupid. "Uh.. God... Was that you? Are you real?"

Silence.

"Well... if you are God... maybe you could help me? Please... if you can hear me... Tell me if you are real?"

Somehow I knew that I was on the edge of something very important. Life changing. I just wasn't quite sure what...

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Death and eternity..

2007-03-22T22:41:00.000+11:00

Today I've been feeling sad.

Maybe it's because I've been exhausted and I'm also on the receiving end of the flu. I'm not sure. But I'm sad.
I have alot to be thankful for. Somebody found my USB, which means my essay has been retrieved. Praise God. Also, God has been providing me with alot of things lately- I will share at another point.

But I'm sad because I have been thinking alot lately. About eternity. When I think of eternity for myself I'm overwhelmed with joy and excitement. I know where I'm going. But then I start thinking of my friends and my family... and sadly, I know where they are going. I'm not sure what I would do if my parents were to suddenly die.
I was telling a friend today that I've had alot of people in my life pass away. The thought of what is happening to them right now makes me want to scream.

One of my cousins commited suicide a few years back. It wasn't easy. I remember the day I found out, I felt like a knife was plunged into my heart. My aunty found him hanging by a rope in his bedroom. He suffered from Skitzophrenia. I felt bad because I never bothered with him too much, he was one of those people that was hard to love. At christmas time we would be fighting over who didn't have to sit next to him. Because of his mental illness, he often wouldn't take showers.

As I'm writing this I have tears streaming down my face. Life is too short to have regrets, but do you want me to be honest? I have regrets. Yes, through these regrets I've learnt alot and grown alot. But, I do have regrets. I think it's so cliche when people give the nice happy answer to that "No I don't regret anything."
I regret not loving Simon, my cousin. I regret not visiting him more often. I regret never telling him about my faith.

What if what if what if?

Yesterday I witnessed a car accident. I was sitting in a cafe on my lunch break, and outside the window at the intersection I watched as a truck slammed head on into another car. The car span around, the front bonnet came off. It was the loudest sound. People in the cafe screamed. One of the men ran to the road to help out. I pulled out my mobile to call the ambulance but someone bet me to it. The windscreeen of the car was completely smashed. By the looks of it, we all thought that the man had died. We could see nobody for about 5 mins. The longest 5 mins ever. Eventually, by some miracle, the man stepped out of his car and was walking around.

But what if he didn't survive? What then?

What if what if what if???

Something is stirring in me. Something is shifting in my mindset and in my heart. Eternity is becoming more a reality to me. With that comes desperation. Desperation to see the ones I live with know Jesus too.

Thinking..

2007-03-22T12:47:00.000+11:00

Alot of people, in comments and off comments, have been asking me to finish the story on what happened with my grandfather.
I will.
But not now.
It perhaps isn't the best ending to a story... oh at the last minute it was... but I learnt alot. There is alot to be learnt through it. When I finish the story I will share exactly what that is.
I'm feeling lazy. Too lazy to write. Too lazy to think.
Let me do point form on what has been going on:

- I went to a conference where Bill Johnson spoke at. It was good. Extremely good. God taught me alot.

- One of my friends mum passed away yesterday :(

- I'm tired and sick. Currently at work, looking forward to being home and sleeping.

- I'm moving out of home. Or, planning to.

- Have had alot on my heart. Been thinking about heaven and hell and eternity and all that lately.

Do you guys mind me asking... But what do you like to read on my blog? What do you want to see more of? Which entries do you find the best and make you want to keep reading?

I love writing, and I want to improve on my writing. I'm not just writing for me, but I'm writing for you. I would love to hear your comments on this.

Thank-you.

Frustration!!

2007-03-21T10:35:00.000+11:00

Frustration seems to be chasing me down. I don't want to be frustrated. I want to move beyond frustration. But I am frustrated.

I'm tired and I can feel the flu settling on me. I want to sleep. I haven't slept for more than 4 hours a night in the past two weeks. And when I have the opportunity to sleep my body reacts in strange ways. For example... The other night I woke up at 3 am. I brushed my teeth, cleaned my room, started making breakfast, chose what clothes I was going to wear.. and just before I was about to step into the shower I look at the clock and notice it is 4 am. With no hesitation I jumped back in bed and tried to reclaim that lost hour.
Or, a few weeks ago.. I woke up in the middle of the night, sitting on the edge of my bed with two Tim-Tam's hanging out of my mouth!
What the?

Anyways, the real reason for my frustration is because I lost my USB key thingy. It was on my set of keys... and I look.. and now it is GONE. GONE! I had all my uni homework on it... the beginnings of an essay! So much hard work :( There were also other valuable documents that I've lost.

Well, enough of this complaining and whinging. I suppose it isn't the end of the world.

Woken from coma.

2007-03-18T00:57:00.001+11:00

The look in her eyes told me that everything was not okay. She stood at my door in silence fighting the tears that so desperately wanted to escape.

"Honey..." My mum whispers. "Your... your grandfather has had a heart attack... he...he..." I watch as she grips tightly to the door frame, knuckles turning white. Taking a quick breath she continues, "he's in a coma... he isn't going to make it... They want to pull the life support off in a couple of days..." One lone tear creeps slowly down her face. "We'll say our good-byes tomorrow." And as she finishes she sadly turns away, closes the door and leaves me in the emptiness of my room.

I was 15 years old, only a new Christian, not yet attending church. Jesus was my everything, but I lacked so much wisdom and so much knowledge. As my mum left me to my silence I felt an odd peace settle in my heart. No tears came. No fear gripped me. Sitting there on my lonesome all I could feel was an indescribable peace.

"Why am I not sad?" I asked God.
And in my heart I could feel the faint whispers of my King, "He will live. I want to give him 6 more months, I want him to know me."
"But he is in a coma Lord."
"He will rise..."

Breathlessly I fell on my knees and began to worship. He won't die? He will live? How is this so. I had never heard of healings, I had never heard of such mysteries. Pulling out my Bible I began to pour over the story of Jesus raising Lazarus, and how He time and time again would heal people of their diseases. Turning to Acts I read in wonder of how ordinary day-to-day men were used in the power of God to see people healed and set free. My heart fluttered in my chest. Could it be that God could use me in this same way? That if I lay my hands on my grandfather, that God will raise Him?

If that it was the Word says, then it must be so. I had decided in my heart. I didn't know many christians- I was banned from church. All I knew was God and what the Word said. All I knew was HIS character. I didn't know the pollution and doubt that us Christians can sometimes do to His simple truths.

The following day came. We drove in silence to the hospital. My dad was concentrating on the road, holding tight to the wheel. Looking at him I could see the battle that was happening. His father, sick. His father, death creeping in. His father, his best friend, having to say good bye. As I watched my father drive I could feel my heart breaking.
If only my family knew the love of God... I had thought to myself. A smile settles on my face as I thought of what was about to take place.

We were ushered into the waiting room of the Intensive Care Unit. Family flooded the room. Pay their respects, share their love, say good-bye. Distraught was written across their faces. My grandmother reached out to me, hugged me, cried into my shoulder. Silently I parted from the family, nestled into a corner, pulled out my Bible and waited.

"What are you reading?!" A family member shouted out to me.
"The Bible..." My face turned to a shade of red. Lack of confidence. Embarrassment. Fear?
My family member laughed at me. They would always laugh. Jeering. Taunting. Not understanding. Thinking they were wise beyond their years and I was just the little girl who knew nothing and was just a little tiny Christian.

If only they knew what a powerful God could do through a little tiny Christian.

At last, it was my turn to walk into the ICU. My grandmother held tightly to my hand. Afraid that my young mind would not cope wtih the sight that I would see. Silently we walked through the unit, passing by beds of people about to face eternity.

Where would they go?

We reach my grandfather. Mind racing as I saw him lying on that bed. I gulped for air. He had lost weight, he was the shade of death, tubes were everywhere. A loud whirring machine was hooked up to him. What do I do? Do I say good bye? I was afraid. Embarrassed even of my faith. What would my grandmother say when I prayed? What would the nurses do?
But I knew that I had to get past the fear and realise that this was a life or death situation.

Placing my trembling hands on his head I uttered a whisper. "Jesus... do what You need to do. The Bible says that you can heal. Please, heal my grandfather. Take sickness from him."

My grandmother began to shake and cry as I whispered those words.

We walked out, hand in hand. Peace was once again reigning over fear. That night as I went to bed I knew that although nothing happened at that moment... something had shifted. Death had moved. Life came in.
Morning came. My mum walks into my room, all smiles. Excited. Uncertain. She knew that I had prayed for him, grandmother told her.

"You'll never believe it Sam..." She was almost jumping off the walls. "The nurses say it is a miracle. Just before they were going to take the life support off... he woke up" She was beaming.

It was at that moment that I began to weep.

And then, the next day, he was released from hospital. A well man. Ready to go home. Ready to do life again.
The Lord Almighty gave him a second chance.

What an awesome God we serve! The love that He has for us! The mercy and the grace! If only we could truly understand all of this. If only we could truly believe how much He loves us! How great is our God! He is supreme! He is almighty! He reigns! All other names must bow to His name!

Fatherless generation...

2007-03-15T14:58:00.000+11:00

My heart is shattering into a thousand pieces. It's been breaking and grieving. However not in a sense where things are bad or wrong, but because I've asked God to break my heart and to give me a new burden for this fatherless generation. So often I can get back into that little cocoon of selfishness, self-gain, all about me lifestyle of living. All too often I can forget what Jesus says and the friendly reminders of picking up your Cross, counting the cost, laying your life down for another. Dying to self. Making disciples of all men.

And I hate it.

I hate that as a human I can be so wrapped up in my own world and my own desires and forget the people that walk around me everyday. That I can forget the pain of sin that people live in. That they don't even realise they live in. Tentacils of sin slowly climb up their legs, coil around their body, and eventually choke them to death before they even realise what has gripped them. How can I live my life and see people walk a road that may give temporary satisfaction but long-term turmoil?

So, I ask Him to break me. Break my heart. Let me weep. Let me see with the eyes of my Father! Let me hear with the ears of my Lord! Let me hear the silent cries of this generation who are in desperate need of a Saviour, so desperate that alot of them don't even realise He is the answer.

The fatherless generation. The teenagers. Youth of today.

My heart breaks as I think of those teenagers that I see everyday. At the train stations, walking around with their heads hanging low, no where to go. No one to give them the love that their soul craves for.

Those girls, young girls, flaunting their bodies. Thinking and feeling that the only way to be accepted, the only way to feel any sort of emotion, is to give themselves over to boys. To have their purity and innocense stolen away so that they can just capture one glance of plastic love.
Oh, and those kids, those kids labelled by society as the hopeless, never going to change, delinquents. How I cringed when a co-worker said of one of the clients, "She's just a stupid little sl*t and I hope she chokes on the next pill she swallows!". Heart-wrenching. Can people not see the whispers of their hearts? They rebel because they want to know that they still exist!
What about that 15-year-old girl who I had to keep watch on. Here I am on one side of the window peering in as she ran around in frantic circles. Screaming. Tearing at her head. Crashing into walls. Wanting to die. Wanting death to grip her and take her to another place, a "better" place. If only she knew that this better place was worst than the hell that was created in her mind. What of her life? Taken from her family as a baby, moved from home to home, school drop out at age 11. Live on the streets. Find drugs. Do crime. Survive. Must survive.

What of this generation? How the Father weeps for these children! For HIS CHILDREN. The forgotten children.

One night I was on call, I rush to the house. It's 3am. Two girls, 14-year old girls, outside with their cigarettes hanging from their mouths. Flirty words dripped from their tounges. They were flirting with a 30 year old. A 30 year old. Desperation. Lonlieness. Girls, only Jesus can fill that empty hole! And ohhh, how my heart breaks, that same very night. As they come back into the unit. "Before you go to bed, would you like a juice?" I would ask. "WHAT!?" Disbelief planted across their face. Shock as I pour them a juice. "Why would you do this for me?" Tears walled up behind eyes. "Because you're worth it..." I would say, in greater shock.
Why did it shock these two young girls for a stranger to offer them a drink?
An act of service, an act of love. And it was that one serve of drink that lead one of those girls to give their hearts to Jesus in the early hours of the night!

And what of that young boy, foster home to foster home. So vulernerable. Naive. Thinks he is tough, acts tough, must be tough to live. He would walk in, hasnt' showered in three months. Three months! Why dont' you shower? And as you ask he'll curse at you. Pick up a couch. Throw it at you. GET AWAY FROM ME, he'd yell. So much fear plagues him. Yet his way of running from the fear is to run with that knife. Protect himself. Stay alive. Steal. Get caught by cops, AGAIN. In the cop station they would look at me, "Why bother? You should make him sleep the night!" And here he is, this same boy, the one who threw the couch. Look in his eyes and see pain and pleas. "Don't let me stay in here..." He would beg. Fear. The fear that took him to this place is still plauging his mind.

Let my heart break. My heart needs to break for this generation. I don't want to be selfish, I don't want to think of my own wants and my own desires. Why do I find it so easy to fall back into that place and sit comfortable as ever? As I curl up on my own sofa, warmth, roof over my head. Full stomach. Loving family and friends. Yet, I'm at misfortune because sometimes I forget. I don't want to forget. Feed the hungry, give drink to those who thirst! Make disciples of all men! See these children saved, set free, walk from their lives of hopelessness and into a road of faith and love in the arms of their Saviour.

Stir it up in us... A passion for the lost... Fill us with Your Love... That all may know You Lord....

The tree that saved me.

2007-03-13T22:59:00.000+11:00

"But, what if they find out? What if we get caught?" My friend looks at me nervously. Gripping my steering wheel with sheer determination I shrugged off her remark.
"We aren't going to get caught." I say, rolling my eyes. "The only way our parents will ever find out was if we crashed into a tree or something!" I begin laughing.
"Don't say that Sam, it isn't funny." She looks at me seriously.
"I was joking! Come on, relax, lets have fun." I take one hand off the wheel and shove her gently.
I was young and I was foolish. Thirsty for love and willing to drive across deserts to find it to try and satisfy my soul. It was summer, we had just finished highschool, and we were looking for adventure! It had started only 2 weeks prior to this conversation. My highschool friend, one of my closest friends at the time, and I spent the week in a caravan by the beach. On the first day of arrival I was taking a walk on my own along the sand. It was a beautiful day, the sun was setting, and I was at peace with myself.
Until I saw him.
My heart stopped beating and I found my cheeks burning. He was standing there, gran-pa trousers on, bare chested, grin on face, cigarette in hand, sandy brown hair with a fringe covering one eye, barefeet. He held my stare as I nervously patted my skirt down, and tucked my flowing hair behind my ear. I didnt' know what to do. I didn't know this boy, but there was something about the boy that caused butterflies to be let out and flutter about in my stomach.
"You shouldn't smoke, you know.." I exclaim out, not knowing what else to say.
"And who says?" A mischevious laughter escapes his lips. "You or my mother?"
Taken aback I call out, "Your mother!" It appeared that my response was hilarious to this boy.
"My mother was the one who first introduced me to bongs you know." He laughs, testing my response.
From that moment on I was taken. And the week was spent with this charming boy. He grew up with hippy parents, would yearly go to nudist camps. A fire-twirler. Guitarist and song-writer. Charmer. Knew what a girl wanted. Our nights were spent on the beach with illegal bon-fires burning. He would play his guitar and sing me songs. And our days were full of adventure, rock climbing and finding hidden caves to steal kisses from one another.
Our last night together we were laying on the beach embasking in each others presence. He looks up at the sky, points out a star to me and tells me that he is now officially naming the star "Samantha... So that each night I can look at the star and I'll never forget you or your beautiful smile and your beautiful kisses."
Naive and stupid, I thought I would fall madly in love with this boy. And that we would run away together, elope, travel the world and live happily ever after. For that week I forgot my first love, Jesus. I wasn't stable in my ways and was easily swayed by the wind of charming words. The first time that this boy kissed me I was a goner.
And now we were here, 2 weeks later, in the car with my friend cautious as always. I couldn't blame her. We had blatantly lied to our parents, packed our cars secretly late in the night. I told my parents we were going shopping and I would stay at her house. Leaving in the early hours of the morning we set out to drive to this boys house. Me to see the love of my summer, and her to see the love of her summer. As we continued to drive closer to the passionate embrace of this boy I could feel the Holy Spirit tugging at my heart, "What about Me?" He would whisper. And each time I would hold that steering wheel with dear life, push my foot down on the accelerator, ignore the warnings and continue driving to what I thought was destiny.
At last we arrived. Excited and full of life the four of us... Myself, my friend, the boy, the boys friend... Were driving off for a day of activities and rebellion.
We were only 5 minutes down the road when it happened.
"Take a left here.." The boy says. Obediantly I turn left and follow the road that was instructed to me.
"You sure about this?" I say, noticing that the road barely looked used. Thick dust covered the road, tall thick looming trees hedged it.
"It's a 10 minute short-cut!" He assures me. I melt as I watch him smile that mischevious grin that was always marked across his face.
Inexperienced and foolishly I continue to drive down the road at 50-60k's an hour. The music was blaring. We were laughing. I look at the boy next to me in wonder and awe. Not noticing that my foot was pressing harder on the accelerator.
One moment we were laughing and the next moment we were plummeting into sheer terror.
I lost control of the car, my back wheels spun, and I began to fish-tail down the road. My mouth was opened ready to scream, but sound was stolen as I realised I didn't know what to do.
No control. Losing it. All over the road. Friend is screaming.Boy is cursing.
The tree. It's coming closer. Closer. TOO CLOSE! My car was heading straight for it, images flashed through my mind of the car wrapped around the tree.
First thought: We're going to die. I'm going to kill them.
Second thought: Repent!
Third thought: JESUS GET US OUT OF THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Closing my eyes, afraid to open them. Impact. My body hits the steering wheel, seat belt sharp against skin. My head flings back against seat.
Slowly, with so much fear creeping over my body, I open my eyes. Dead silence. Nobody is talking. Nobody is moving. And finally, I whisper, "Are... are we still alive?"
And as though the reality of the situation never hit, one of the boys lets out a wild laugh and declares "LETS DO IT AGAIN!"
My friend hits him. I would have too. We surveyed the damage. I collaped in the middle of the road in pain, and shock. We should have died. Nobody could have survived that. But we did. Jesus saved us. What if? What if what if what if?
The rest of the day was full of screaming parents over the phone, going to hospital, and catching a 2-3 hour train back home. Neck-brace on, bags under arms, and my friend and I plotting an excuse of what really happened. For years, the wallaby story worked, until I let the truth slip out last Christmas. My dad cried.
Lying in bed that night, body aching, unable to move head with neckbrace on... I wept. Violently. Repenting, I turned back to Jesus. I begged Him to take me back. That I wouldn't be a fool anymore, that I would trust and obey Him.
I learnt hard lessons that summer. I lost one of my closest friends, after that day we never really saw each other again. Her mum banned me. I never saw the boy again either, he thought I tried killing him.
But I found my Jesus.

Shine Jesus!

2007-03-13T00:14:00.000+11:00

My long weekend has officially ended. It was grand... other than youth, church and a meeting tonight... all I did was lie on my bed and read books. I was supposed to go to a bbq today at the park but the book was beckoning to me to read... I just finished reading A Scarlet Thread. This book is definitly for a ladies, simply beautiful. I love Francine Rivers cos she writes romance novels but it always comes back to Christ. Love it.
The next two weeks are going to be hectic and I need God's strength to get through it physically. This is what is going on:
Tuesday- Work
Wednesday- Work, leaders meeting
Thursday- Work, Corporate prayer meeting
Friday- Uni all day, youth at night
Saturday- Uni all day, 21st party
Sunday- Church all day
Monday- Uni
Tuesday- Work
Wednesday- Work, small/life/cell group
Thursday- Work
Friday- Work, youth at night
Saturday- SLEEEEEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyways, I just want to share what Jesus has been doing. This year has been a tough year, and it seems I just keep walking head on into trial after trial. But that's okay, it hurts but it's a good hurt, you know? I'm truly beginning to understand what James meant in his letter "Consider it pure joy whenever you face trials of many kinds...". My intimacy with God has gone to a new place, I'm learning so much! It still sucks but I know that He is in control! He has been showing me that although I'm walking through the fire He is with me. In Daniel 3 it talks about how Sharrach, Meshack, and Abed-Nego were thrown into a fiery furnace because they refused to bow down to an idol and rather, chose to worship God. To read the full story click here! Assuming that you've read the story, I love that in verse 25 it tells us that King Nebuchardnezzar saw a fourth person in the fire! Jesus, Holy Spirit, whoever! I love that! God spoke to me so so so strongly through this. He encouraged me and told me that I'm walking through fire but He isn't on the sidelines cheering me on, rather, He is walking through the fire with me. And flip, I want to be where He is.. and if that means walking through the fire, then so be it. I will be obediant to what He wants to do in my life, after all, it's in the fiery times that God can use that to burn off the crud in our hearts that He don't want there.
And that's what He is doing.
He is ridding of pride, hurt, He is healing me, revealing sins I need to repent of, He is doing alot. I'm so grateful and thankful of that.
As I've been drawing closer to Him and finding who I am in Him and allowing Him to do His work, He has been blessing me so much. And people can see it! If God lives in our hearts, and He is a big God, then gosh... people should see God in us yes? Pouring out of us? I was in the Fish 'n Chip shop with some of my girls after church. Sitting next to an elderly greek (another! They must love me!) lady we began to talk. I could see this weight on her shoulders so I introduced myself and asked her how she was. She almost started crying right there and then! She told me how her husband had a stroke and how it has been difficult. With tears in her eyes she says, "You're a christian aren't you?". In shock I go "Yes... how did you know?" And she says, "Well... you shine."
Isn't that what it should be like? I've been readin the Scripture about how we're lamps and we should be on the hill and not hidden and covered. That is my prayer! Let the people see Jesus in us! That's how it should be, shouldn't it?

The greek man at McDonalds.

2007-03-08T23:49:00.000+11:00

The old man grinned widely at me as I took a nearby table at the McDonalds near my work. Double cheeseburger, medium fries, medium coke. Perfect to satisfy my fast-food craving. I carefully placed the tray down, unwrapped my burger and delighted myself in the burger of all burgers. As I munched slowly I looked across at the old man enjoying his newspaper and coffee. He was sitting on his own, smile on his face. Wrinkles that told a story of life and adventure, warm eyes, and obvious to the eyes that he was greek. I smiled to myself as I continued eating my burger enjoying my surroundings.

Lunch was finished and although I still had 15 minutes of my work break, I stood up ready to head back to the office to escape the chill of the air. As I rid of the rubbish and picked up my purse I felt the Holy Spirit nudge me to sit back down again. Obediantly, I sit down and look around me. What is it? I ask. What do you want? Looking down at my slim line, black and purple covered Bible I realised that God wanted me to read. Ofcourse. Why not.

I open the Word and turn to Acts 3. Engrossed in the testimony of Peter and John heading to the temple to pray, to be stopped by a beggar, and to see the beggar healed- simply incredible. I could almost see with my minds eyes as Peter declares to the beggar asking for money, "Silver and gold I do not have! But what I do have I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!" Such boldness, such declaration of faith and assurance. And love. I began to think of how yes it is important to provide the practical needs of the down and trodden. We must feed the hungry. Provide shelter for the homeless. We must. But, what if we lack these practical items ourselves? It does not mean we cannot give, we can still declare with faith the promises of God.

As I pondered this I almost forgot the Greek elderly man sitting on the nearby table. He poked his words into my thoughts, Excuseee me, what are you reading? His thick greek accent interrupts. I look at him with a smile on my face, and before I can even answer he asks in his rich accent, Are you reading the Bible?

Why yes! Ofcourse! Excitedly I say that I was. He grins a toothy smile, And what language was the New Testament originally written in?, He professes. Laughing I say "Greek.." The elderly Greek man chuckles and announces "And that is what I am!". Waving his hand he ushers me to sit by his side and share his table with him. Grabbing my Bible, mobile and purse I switch seats so that now I was sitting face-to-face with the charming man.

"It encourages me to see a young lady such as yourself reading the Word of God" He nods his head, smile in his eyes. The next 15 minutes was filled with tales of his walk with God... his salvation in 1959. How he as on fire, an enthuisiast, full of zeal, moving in the power of God. Sadness then shades over his face, But... I lost it.. Shocked, I looked at him and wonder why. Jim, the elderly greek man, notices my puzzled face and answers "But don't you worry. I needed to see a young lady reading the Bible today. I needed to see a young person on fire, such as yourself. I know that despite my age, I can too be on fire. Don't lose the zeal. Don't lose the passion. You've encouraged me today to find it again."

My lunch break was over, it was time to leave the company of my new friend. Read Acts 3... it's good... real good! I exclaim, as Jim leans over and gives me a big sloppy wet kiss on my face.
Till the Lord allows us to meet again! He winks at me, as I leave McDonalds.

And she was healed!

2007-03-07T16:28:00.000+11:00

Last night was my futile attempt at escaping. Jumping into my car I drove about an hour away, out to the hills, past the hills. I just kept on going. Music blaring. High-beam lights on so as to avoid any cows walking across the road. All I wanted to do was get out, escape, go far far away. How come it's at your weakest moments that God will choose to demonstrate His power? Most definitly because then we can definitly take no glory for ourselves, all glory must go to God.
As I was driving off into some unknown, unfamiliar territory a dear friend of mine felt lead to text me. All it said was... "1 Thessalonians 1:4.. it is clear to us, friends, that God not only loves you very much but also has put His Hand on you for something special."
Chuckling to myself I turned into a farm, did a U-turn, and headed back towards home.
"Okay God... what's this something special You have for me tonight?" My heart was beating faster by the second. For I knew that by asking such a question, ofcourse He was going to challenge me with something. Instantly my heart began to break for one of my young girls mum. I've previously mentioned this young girl and her mum, such brokeness and what appears to be hopelessness. So, as my heart broke for this mother I began to pray for her. And as I prayed for her I had such an urgency in my spirit that I needed to see her that night and that I needed to to pray with her.
Pulling over, so as not to be in trouble with the police, I texted her and asked if she was still awake, and if so, if I could come over to talk with her. Within seconds she replied, "Yes! Please! Come over now!"

Finally, I reached her home. Palms sweaty, a nervous chill went down my spine. Something big was going to take place, I could feel it. I could just feel God's heart for this lady, I could feel that all He wanted to do was comfort her and be there for her.

Before I even reached the door step, the front door had flung open, and here she is in her old dirty teeshirt, trackies with holes in it, unkempt hair, moccasins on feet,brace on leg, and sadness in her eyes. "Come in...!" She pleads. Thankful to have adult company by her side.

The next hour was filled with laughter, tears, Bible reading, and this broken mum giving her heart to Jesus! She told me her pain, and I told her God's love. As the conversation was coming to a close and it was time to come home I felt the prompting of the Holy Spirit to pray for her leg. Her leg was in a brace and she said she was having surgery in a weeks time, she told me she was in alot of agony as she couldn't take any pain killers due to past drug addiction. I told her how in the Bible Jesus healed people, and how as Christians we have authority in His name, and that it says in the Word if we lay hands on the sick they will be healed. Excitedly we prayed, I layed my hands on her leg/knee... the Holy Spirit was moving powerfully, I could feel her bone moving under my hand, and I could feel her ligaments taking new shape. As I felt the Holy Spirit say "It's done.", I looked up at her. A big grin was on her face. She rips off the leg brace, stands up, and begins to run and jump around the house. Running, free, amazed. She then drops on her knees, crawls around the family room and exclaims "I haven't been able to do this in FOUR years!". Together we hugged and praised God, I said my goodbyes, drove home and wept. Wept because wow, what love God has for His people.

She's alive!

2007-03-06T11:02:00.000+11:00

Wwweeeelllllllll.........

I'm still alive.

I received a call last night from a blog reader asking me if I still existed. Yes, I exist! I'm here!

Been quite pre-occupied over the past week. Haven't really had time to be online. I started back at uni. Wow, it was interesting.

Note to all uni students: Do NOT do what I did. On my graduating year, 2005, I became extremely slack and stopped turning up to class. And, I failed. 2006 found me having a break from uni... 2007 begins the year of passing what I previously failed. All my friends have long graduated, I'm now stuck with unfamiliar faces. That's okay, at least now I won't muck around and I might do good.

Although, that didn't stop me from turning up to class 45 mins late and leaving 30 mins early cos I was bored.

Friday's are good though. That is a rarity. There are 4 intensive weekends I must endure. Friday-Saturday, 9:30am-4:30pm. But it's all good, I get trained up, qualified and possibly paid to do highschool seminars. It's a pretty damn good class.

In other news since my last blog entry, my hunger for the Word of God has increased rapidly. Remember that story I told you about the Pork and apple sauce sandwhich? Yes well, my craving for the Word far exceeds the craving I had for that food.

And that is what I have been preoccupied with... reading the Word rather than writing here.

But alas, I will continue to write more!

My love...

2007-02-28T14:14:00.000+11:00

I awoke in a startle. My clothes and bed sheets were clinging to me as I had broken out in a cold sweat. The darkness of the night settled on my heart as the fear and thoughts plagued my mind. My eight-year old heart was beating wildy, out of control. Trying to calm myself I sat up looking around to see if I was safe to leave the haven of my bed.

"Another nightmare," My body whimpered, eyes darting to and fro checking the lurking of the shadows. Fearfully I climbed out of bed afraid of what may jump out at me. Thoughts were teling me I was insane, to turn back, go back to bed, close your eyes and hide! You don't know what's out there! Go back! GO BACK! But a boldness was rising in my heart and I knew that I had to go to the other room, I had to find that book... that precious book... It held the answers. It will help me. There was something about that book. Yellow stained pages and white leather bound cover, golden crisp edges. Dirty, as if the previous owner had handled it everyday, taking it with them whereever they went. The book that I knew held the answers but I didn't know what had once belonged to a distant relative of mine.

At last, I reached the book and I quickly grasped it and hid in the corner of the lounge room. Afraid of who may find me, or what may find me. Hiding in the shadows I gripped the book as if holding on for dear life, I held it close to my heart and not wanting to let it go. Tears freely rolled down my face. The KJV was too difficult for my mind to understand, I fumbled through the pages, trying to find out about this "Jesus" man. But I couldn't find it, instead I continued to hide in the darkness hugging the prized possession hoping that one day I will understand. Years later I remember arriving home late one night. My heart and head full of questions, thoughts and wonder. Hiding in my closet, afraid of being caught, I grabbed my torch and opened this book I was given that night ready to read the first page. From the first word I was taken to another place, another time. In amazement and adoration I was finally reading about this Jesus. He raised people from the dead? Wow. He healed a blind man? Who was this guy? He was amazing. Woah, he loved that woman, the one who was unfaithful? Unbelievable. My heart fell in love with Jesus and I continued to pour over the words.

Suddenly, I felt as if my heart had died. Time had stopped. What was this I was reading? He was being betrayed? PETER! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? Why are those soldiers taking him? Why are these people ACCUSSING him? Do they realise what He did!? Do they realise how much He LOVED them. He was INNOCENT. Anger gripped me as I continued to read. As quickly as the anger rose up in my heart, a deep sadness set in. I fell on my face and began to cry. They hanged Him on the cross. They killed him. He was dead. My Jesus, the one I was only starting to know about, was dead. I'm not sure how long I sat there crying, unwilling to pick up the book again, but it felt like an eternity.

As the tears subsided I heard a faint voice "Keep on reading....". Wiping my eyes with my sleeve I picked the torch and book up again and continued to read. Hope began to rise. Joy leapt in my throat.

Are you serious?

He... He... r-r-..ro-rose again?

Tears once again poured down my face, not out of pain but out of victory. This Jesus guy, wow, the Son of God. Alive. It was simply amazing.

I love the Word of God. The Word of God is my life source. My food. I devour it. I need it. As you do too. The Word of God is like a Melways to my life. It gives me direction. Answers. We need to know what the Word says, we need to have a love for the Word, we need to stand on the Word.

Swimming.

2007-02-27T10:24:00.000+11:00

You know you are a legend when you are contacted by a year 10 kid from your first highschool. They contact you on My Space just to inform you that you are the hero of swimming sports. Oh the honour. The pride. Tears welled in my eyes as I heard the news that I still hold the swimming records of the highschool I was at in year 7. That means, they are now 10 years old. That means, I'm the schools legend.

I feel like running up to all those teachers and the principal who hated me and shove it in their face "HA! SEE! I ROCK!" But no, I will humbly (haha!) accept this and hope that no one else beats my swimming times!

I think that the swimming formed my best memories at that school. I was at the school for primary school and it was short lived in highschool before I realised that if I don't leave now I will have a permanent hate from the teachers. It wasn't hard to win. Swimming was my name, my life, my everything. When I knew that school swimming was coming up I wouldn't be able to sleep at night, for I knew, that I would be champion. How could you not be when you trained 6 days a week, waking up at 4:30 every morning to swim, and then... swimming again after school was out? Before I met God, swimming was my god.

Why did I quit? The weekend I was saved, March 1999, the very first thing God said to me in my new found friendship was "Quit swimming. Don't say goodbye, just leave, don't go back." So ofcourse, I did. My parents almost had a mental case as I arrived home "Hi mUM! I met JeSUs... i quit SWIMMING." They were so upset they sent me to the school counsellor, in fear that I joined a cult. Looking through their eyes I could understand their fear- their daughter goes on a camp after an incredible training session in the pool, excited about the Victorian swim meet that was coming up... only to arrive home claiming to love Jesus and refusing to enter the pools again.

It was years before I understood why God wanted me to quit. Ofcourse, swimming was my god and I had to choose to put God first, but why did He want me to leave just like that? Without any notice? None of it made sense. But last year the horror of it all hit me in the face as I watched television.

My coach was convicted of rape/pedophilia... the incidences occuring 1998-1999, in particular, March 1999. Suddenly I remembered, my hero my coach, had a pattern of favourites. Just before I quit I was becomming his favourite.

It saddens me to hear what had happened and to know that some of my swimming mates were affected, and the swimming community in whole (he was Head Coach of the Australian swimming team). But it also makes me see the wonder of God's grace. What would have happened if I didn't quit? Isn't it amazing that the first thing God says to me was to protect me?

When God speaks, dont' doubt. It may not make sense at the time, but I'm sure in years to come you'll understand what He means.

Odour Panel.

2007-02-23T14:48:00.000+11:00

You know when you get a whiff of a scent and it immediately takes you back to some old memories? That happened to me last night. I was driving home and I had the honour of smelling the most disgusting, dirtiest, pungent odour that you could ever come across. If it wasn't for my fantastic driving skills, I'm sure that I could have hit a tree by the shock of the smell. As I continued to drive, once again gaining my breath and the tears forming in my eyes had dispersed, I was met with the horrifying fact that I once knew that smell so very well. It occurred to me that this odour, disgusting-I-want-to-die-odour, was a part of my life for two years.

Yes, that is right, I put up with that smell and many others for the first two years of my life out of highschool.

Why is that? No, I was not some dirty person with no hygeine. Yes, I take showers. Yes, I'm clean. But...

I worked in an odour panel.

Ooohhhhhhhh the memories. The excitment I felt when I first read that newspaper clipping...

Do you have a nose?
If you answered yes, we may have the job for you! Call *********

I, Samantha Louise, would happily walk into that factory.. sign that contract where I never read the fine print, and allowed myself to sniff different things from places such as Australian sewage, the arbituar (I don't know how to spell, but where they slaughter animals), various chimney smokes, and much much more. It was a glorious job, relaxing even. With the blessing of meeting many wonderful people... The lovable Lyn- who would choose to mother me to no end, Mark- the motorcyclist who would then call me for the next four years trying to woo my heart, Tony- whose dream was to leave the odour panel and film a murder mystery, and ofcourse the many other characters who would come in and last only a week or two. Apparently their noses weren't up to scratch.

So what would we do? We'd sit in a booth with two bong-like tubes sticking out of the table. And as the instructor commanded us we would lean our head into each bong and whiff up those smells, cough and splutter at times, and select on an electronic device which tube had the bad air. It was all good, governmentally approved, legal. Gave me the cash to survive at uni. As long as I ignored the upset stomachs, I loved it.

But, it was odd whenever people asked me what I did for a living... "Ohhh yes, I uhh, I'm a professional sniffer!"

Just things...

2007-02-22T16:40:00.000+11:00

Don't you love it when one insignificant detail of your day can change the course of your life? You are walking along, everything is fine, life is great, things are... settled... and then BAM!.. Something so small can effect everything. Unbeknownst (is that even a word? I totally tried sounding smart then) to anyone else, or the culprit of the act, it changes the events that are currently taking place.
It frustrates me, to be honest.
But, at the same time, it is pushing me more and more to keep on running the race, to not give up, to keep on fighting, to keep on resting in HIM, to KNOW Him more. I must Know HIM or I will not survive.
I've tried that road before. Doing things on my own, giving up, not trusting... making stupid choices to satisfy something that only God can satisfy. Not ever again though. No way. Nothing, no situation, no problem, no anything will be able to pervert the character of my God that I know so well.
I will trust.

In other news... once again talking about those forbidden bites... I was running around at my friends house. Suddenly it began to sting, like a long needle was being driven into my leg. So I ran to their first aid kit, found some bite cream... and glumped it on. It was gel. Clear as day light. So I just smothered it on, aaalllllllllllllllllllllllllllll over myself. It was incredible. So soothing. So relaxing. But, how the heck did I know it would turn my leg white? Since when does clear gel appear white? All our young people laughed at me all night for my legs that looked like I dropped a bucket of paint on them. I'll let them think that.

Tonight I'm taking out one of the young girls. She's 14. Barely squeeks a word. Her form of communication to me is via SMS. It will be an interesting night.
"Soooooo... how was school?"
"Good."
"Great. What did you do?"
"Stuff." At this point she'd be going a bright crimson red from the awkwardness of talking to an adult.
I love youth ministry :)

Blood.

2007-02-21T13:25:00.000+11:00

Does anybody need a blood transfusion? The rate my body is losing blood, I could buy myself my own blood bank.
These bites that I have obsessively talked about in the past two blog-entries are now bleeding. And these shoes that I also mentioned just the other day has cut up my heel so bad I'm bleeding.
Blood is everywhere.
I'm sorry if that grosses you out, but you didn't have to read. To make you feel better, let me finish with this: Jesus loves you.

Shoes.

2007-02-20T09:43:00.000+11:00

Well, I thought it would do me justice to begin my life anew by wearing real shoes. Not having done this in over a year, I must say, it has been painfully pleasant. Yesterday my shopping trip with Wife of Boss was an absolute blessed time, my boss and her agreed to buy me a whole new outfit including a pair of heels. Now, the shop we chose to shop in was Sportsgirl. They paid for EVERYTHING. Without naming a price, I will say, they were quite generous.

Anyways, so I'm wearing shoes for the first time this year, and first time in over a year. They are great. But I'm definitly used to wearing my glorious Havaiana's. I find it strange to have my feet with things wrapped around them, ankles not breathing, toes restricted... and... sadly, falling over as I climb the stairs to my office building. In saying all of this though, the heels are hot, blue and I love them.

Why am I even talking to you all about fashion and shoes and clothes and shopping and fashion? Quite simple. I'm having trouble concentrating whilst I'm sporting this incredible headache that has plauged my head for over a day, and trying not to scratch my skin off as these bites take on a life of their own. Stupid bites. Stupid headache. So yes, talking about the mundane things of life and things that have no eternal purpose is much much easier than trying to be deep and theological.

Monday Morning.

2007-02-19T10:07:00.000+11:00

Here are some interesting facts for you to enjoy on your Monday morning:

.. I finished reading Reedeeming Love by Francine Rivers. It was good ..

.. I'm now just about to begin Piercing The Darkness by Frank Peretti ..

.. On Saturday I slept until 5pm. It was fantastic ..

.. My brothers new girlfriend thinks I'm strange. I understand after the incident ..

.. Church last night was absolutely powerful. That is all I can say to describe it ..

.. Some events have taken place over the weekend that have left me even more confused than I already was ..

.. My boss's wife is coming into work in 40 mins to take me shopping for some new clothes. Wow. I love Wife Of Boss ..

.. I was attacked by some sort of thing and now I have bites all over my body and it HURTS ..

That will do for now.

Have a terrific Monday Morning!

Awkward.

2007-02-18T01:20:00.000+11:00

I hate it when you think you are home alone, it's 1am, and you are walking up and down the hallway of your home yelling... yelling... out to God... praying in tounges, and declaring the promises of God. And as you are completely fired up, feeling that you are coming on the verge of a breakthough, you walk into the spareroom to continue your praying only to discover a complete stranger lying in the bed staring wide eyed and is probably wondering whether the person who has been yelling for the past 30 mins and has just entered the room is either completely insane or the sister of their new boyfriend who claims to have a Jesus-loving freak in the family. Ofcourse, I'm the sister of their new boyfriend who is known as the Jesus-loving freak and not the completely insane (hope not..).
Complete awkwardness.
So so so very awkward.

Identity.

2007-02-16T14:30:00.000+11:00

I am australian. I am daughter. I am grand-daughter. I am sister. I am friend. I am youth leader. I am uni student. I am receptionist. I am thinker. I am dreamer. I am fighter.
I am loved. I am joyful. I am at peace.

These are some of the things that I am. These are some of the things that make me me. To alot of people, I guess, you could find my identity in these labels and in these titles that make up Samantha Louise. But here is where the problem lies, so often, we as people identify ourselves by what we do or who we are with, and yes, even our ministry of involvement.
What happens though if you lose all and are left with nothing? Does that mean you lose your identity?
It is a dangerous place to walk when the foundation of who you are and what you live for comes from what you do and who you associate with. Often when I meet people and I ask "So, tell me about yourself..?" their response would be "Oh I'm a doctor" or "I'm a student..." or "I'm currently un-employed."
What if you labeled yourself and found your identity on something that wasn't positive?
Back in the days my foundation and my labels would come from... I am trash. I am a piece of meat. I am depressed. Was my identity postive? No. And even if my identity was positive, would it be wise to build upon who I am on these facts? No.
If we continue to label ourselves by the things that the world says we are, we are going to run around in circles like a headless chook. A wise man, Jesus, once said.... "Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat againt that house, and it fell with a great crash."(Matthew 7:24-27)

Let me ask you... What happens if you lose everything you owned? What happens if you lost your mother and father tragically? What happens if your friend dies suddenly in a car accident? What happens if you lose your job, lose your home, lose everything and you are forced to leave the country, leave your people, and go some place else? Who will you be? Do you think of yourself too much in what you know? What are your foundations? Where are you building your house?

I tried finding my identity in my achievements. It didn't work. It lasted for a moment but soon enough I got to that place and I realised I had to find my identity in something else, in something greater. I had to stand firm on the rock. Your identity needs to be found in Christ.

This is who I am, and I will shout it from the rooftops, because this is who I am!

I am Christ's.

I am nothing else. I'm nobody but His. I am Christ's. I'm His daughter. Princess. His friend. He is my Saviour, He is who I should build my life upon. Not on ministry. Not on what I do or how I get by. Not on my relationships.

I am Christ's.

When you build your life on this, no matter what happens, no matter what you lose, you will still be able to stand and fight because your identity would not have been stolen. For, your identity is found only and truly in Him.

Reading.

2007-02-16T00:30:00.000+11:00

As of late I have been devouring books as if I have suffered and just recovered from anorexia-reading. It's as if some sort of plague has overcame me and I cannot focus on the normal world and I must lock myself into a new world of a book.

I'm loving it.

The other night I was with my sister and a few friends at the movies. It was a good movie. But boy, I could not wait until I could pick up that book again and read for my eyes glory. As soon as we left the cinema I had the book in hand, much to the embarrassment of my friends as they watched me drift into another place- whilst still in the cinema foyer.
From the beginning of the year, these are the books that I've indulged in thus far:

Waking Lazarus, T.L Hines
Monster, Frank Peretti
House, Frank Peretti & Ted Dekker
Smith Wigglesworth on Spiritual Gifts, Smith Wigglesworth
Blessed Child, Ted Dekker
The Voice of God, Cindy Jacobs
Prophet, Frank Peretti
The Visitation, Frank Peretti
The Supernatural Life, Cindy Jacobs
Protecting Your Home From Spiritual Darkness, Chuck Pierce
Possessing the Gates of the Enemy, Cindy Jacobs
Hearts of Fire, The Voice of the Martyrs
Enemy Access Denied, John Bevere
and ofcourse...
The Word Of God, the Lord Almighty.

My latest book that is sitting next to me right now (and waiting so patienty for me to enjoy!) is Redeeming Love, Francine Rivers.

Yes, I love books. I love reading. Whenever I tell people that though, they never believe me. Apparently I don't look the "smart" sort.

What books have you read or what book are you currently reading?

Name change.

2007-02-15T09:40:00.000+11:00

Who does God say you are?

Or, what do you feel God says about You?

I remember a time when God was stirring my heart and speaking to me about what He thinks of me. He was teaching me that He knew me before I was born, that I was chosen, apointed, that I had a purpose and a plan. He was also teaching me about the meaning of my name. I've decided I want to start using my first name on this. So here it is, my first name is Samantha and my middle name is Louise.

Anyways, God was teaching me how He chose my names for me, that there was a reason behind it. Samantha means "hearer of God's voice" and Louise means "Glory at War" or "Famous Warrior". I was so excited to learn all of this! My whole life I had such a bad image on myself, I always thought myself to be 'different' or a bit 'weird'. But as God began to reveal His thoughts of me, my self-image changed and I began to walk different and talk different. No longer would I make fun of myself but I would walk with my head held high knowing that God was my daddy, I was His princess, and heck... I was a famous warrior who heard God's voice.

As these revelations began to unfold I remember one day receiving a package in the mail. I never receive packages in the mail! Ofcourse I was excited. I grabbed the package, ran into my room, closed the door behind me and tore the package wrapping apart. My eyes were delighted to be admiring a new book in my hand, The Heavenly Man by Brother Yun. I had been wanting this book for months and finally I received it! Opening the front cover I notice that inscripted in beautiful black fountain ink was a letter from a good friend of mine. He wrote that he felt to send me this book, that he wanted to bless me and encourage me, that he loved me as a sister and it was just beautiful. But I could not help but stare at how he greeted me. Rather than use my first name, Hearer of God's Voice, he addressed me with my old internet alias as a joke. It was along the lines of Weird Girl. You see, when I chose this name I did not think highly of myself, my thoughts of myself were not God thoughts. It was ironic because the book arrived in my hands the very week that God was teaching me who I was.

Before I knew it tears were stinging my eyes. They began to stream down my face as I was once again reminded I'm a weird girl. I cried and cried and I was also embarrassed that I once called myself that. Because I knew, only now, that that wasn't who I am, that isn't who God says I am.

Two days later I was having lunch with a friend and we were talking about the book The Heavenly Man. With great excitement I exclaimed that I received this book in the mail! I pulled it out of my bag to show him but was then reminded of being labled "weird girl". Hesitantly I took the book, not wanting my friend to see what was in the front cover. Opening the front cover I peered once again to see the words that were written. I read the words with a mixture of confusion, horror, excitement, and overwhelming praise.

My eyes were opened wide.

I was shocked.

I choked on my food.

I even fell off my chair in the surprise.

The letter that was written in beautiful black fountain ink had been changed. "Weird girl" greeting no longer existed. There were no smudge marks. It just, disappeared. And in replacement to "weird girl" it now had the words...

"Dear Sam!"

Large cursive writing. Black fountain ink. Sam. Hearer of God's voice. With an exclaimation mark to highlight the love that God has for me, to highlight the thoughts that God has for me. Tears once again stung my eyes, not out of embarrassment, but out of love for My Saviour.

Diet Coke.

2007-02-14T09:51:00.000+11:00

Diet Coke.

I drink it in the morning, I drink it in the afternoon and I drink it in the evening. I love it.

Diet Coke.

I love a chilled bottled in my hand. I love feeling the coolness drizzle down my throat. I love it.

Diet Coke.

I'm addicted.

And I need to quit my love for Diet Coke.

As of today... I quit. (attempt #326)

Musicals.

2007-02-12T10:49:00.000+11:00

Loose ends are tied. Things are buried. The old has gone, and the new has come in. I left the meeting feel a tinge of sadness, sadness that things have come this way, but relief also flooded in. Happiness with the knowledge that this has all come out for the good, for the better.

Afterwards, I was at the church office doing what I do every sunday night after church, cleaning. Broom in hand. Complete silence. Focussed on the task at hand. When suddenly off in the distant I could hear melodies from musicals that I loved as a child. Before I knew it, flooding the office were hundreds of dancers and singers. The broom quickly turned into a dancing apparatus. Joy burst from deep within my stomach, through my mouth, in beautiful songs from musicals such as Annie and the Sound of Music. I began to use the broom as I danced across the kitchen, belting out tunes for my audience to hear. Tone deaf songs with unco-ordinated twirls across the tiles. Smiles on face. Glee in heart. I could see it, I was on stage, ooing and aahing those watching. As my imagination continued to run wild I was interuppted by a staff member who was sitting in his office un-announced...
"Louise, you are one funny person, how could I not love you?"
The music stopped. Dancers and singers disappeared. My dancing apparatus changed back into a broom. And my face quickly burned a crimson red.

"This is why I don't sing on stage..." I quickly muttered. And hurriedly I returned to my task, office cleaning, silence once again becomming my friend. Yet, as I swept the the floor, I couldn't help but smile at my moment of being caught.

Smile.

2007-02-10T15:33:00.000+11:00

I'm still in the midst of a trial. It's still a bumpy road that I'm walking. But I cannot help but smile. I look back at the past few weeks (or perhaps year!) and looking back I have such a joy in my heart, I feel a peace is all over me, and I'm grinning ear from ear. I'd do it again. I'd cry those tears again. I'd let my heart hurt again. (but I would appreciate not going through that again! haha) Because, I can see how much God has done in my life the past few weeks. I can see His Glory in all of this. I can see how much He has taught me, stretched me, spoken to me. I'm in a new place with Him, and I love it. I'm thankful for this time, and now I can finally feel that I can move forward now. Forget what has happened, and keep on going. I will not let one person rob my destiny.

Over the past few days I've had a few well meaning people approach me offering their advice. I love their hearts and I love that they do care, but I had to make a choice to close my ears to their advice. Don't get me wrong, I know the importance of the advice of people around you, but sometimes you just need to be wise in what you let in. They were speaking comforting words such as "It's going to be okay, you'll get through this, it may hurt for quite awhile but you'll get through this..." I see what they are saying, and I do agree... yet, I already am okay. I'm more than okay. I'm on fire. And no, it will not hurt awhile. I will not waste my time crying any more tears over this. I've done that. I've done the crying, I've done the hurting, I've done the anger. And that's good. But now it is time to move forward. I will not let one incident rob me of my future. I will not let one incident, an extremely crappy incident, rob me of what God wants to show me in the next few months.

I'm loving life. And I'm loving Jesus. That's all there is to it.

Broken promises.

2007-02-09T10:54:00.000+11:00

Firstly I would like to begin this with a public apology to yours truly, Ashish. On the 24th Jan 2007 he asked me five questions that I needed to answer. And I never did. Until... now. So here they are... the five wonderful and weird and confusing questions from Ashish!

1) By a chance of fate, you and Shakira exchange places for a day, what would be the 10 things you do on this day?

If Shakira and I were to exchange places for a day I would... Take all her money and go shopping, take all her money and give it away to people who need it, try on all her clothes and take the ones I love, become a christian, announce to the world that I am now a christian, go to a church and preach, ask the Holy Spirit to use me powerfully in healing, shock the world because of my transformation and new modest sense of clothing, eat lots of food and make her fat.

2) Why are islands called as islands?

Good question Ashish. It may seem hard to believe, but Latin aqua, "water," is related to island, which originally meant "watery land." Aqua comes almost unchanged from Indo-European *akwā-, "water." *Akwā- became *ahwō- in Germanic by Grimm's Law and other sound changes. To this was built the adjective *ahwjō-, "watery." This then evolved to *awwjō- or *auwi-, which in pre-English became *ēaj-, and finally ēg or īeg in Old English. Island, spelled iland, first appears in Old English in King Alfred's translation of Boethius about A.D. 888; the spellings igland and ealond appear in contemporary documents. The s in island is due to a mistaken etymology, confusing the etymologically correct English iland with French isle. Isle comes ultimately from Latin īnsula "island," a component of paenīnsula, "almost-island," whence our peninsula.

Gosh, I totally just plagarised! Click here so I don't get into trouble!

3) If you were offered the following choices - 1) Convincing all men on the planet into wearing Diapers, 2) Conning 7 monks into thinking you are the Dalai Llama and looting them of ALL possesions they have on them, 3) Marrying Lord Voldemort - which one would you choose and why? [You have to choose one!]

Option one... It'd be absolutely hilarious. And also, I don't want to pretend I'm the Dalai Llama.... and uh... Lord Voldemort isn't exactly the sort of dude I'd be attracted to.

4) Which costume do remember wearing first on Halloweens and why?

Well here in Australia we dont' really do Halloweens. Although, I am noticing kids these days wandering around in costumes on the day trying to trick-or-treat when households don't really give a stuff. Besides, if we were to make Halloween a big thing, I'd be totally not into it... It's what I would call... going against what I believe! Unless I dressed up as Moses or something?

But anyways, I do remember my first costume as a child. I used to LOVE dressing up as a native american indian. I had an obsession with them and you'd find me running around in the backyard with my neighbour... he would be dressed up as a cowboy, and myself as an Indian. I even rocked up to primary school wearing my costume. That didn't go down well with the teachers.

5) Why the heck did Frodo journey to Mount Doom on foot when he could have used the Air service?

No idea. Ask the script writers?

Police.

2007-02-09T00:12:00.000+11:00

Hello, my name is Louise, nanna driver. I'm one of those people that hate speeding, hate road rage, hate breaking any road-laws. Often, my friends would tease me and call me a nanna because I love to drive 5 k's under the speed limit, and I'm always extra careful.

Since I've had my license I have sped, by accident and only 5 k's over the speed limit, three times. Since my license, I have only ever had three speeding tickets.

Today, I was driving along all so merry. Being such a good christian and leader (please note my sarcasim) I'm on my mobile on speaker phone to a young girl under my care who has recently decided to follow Christ. We're happily chatting when suddenly I notice an un-marked police car flashing their lights at me.

Oh-oh.

I quickly tell the girl that I need to go because "Uhhh... I've been pulled over by the cops....", and pull over on the side of the road. A busy road. A main road. Near lights, so that every damn vehicle that drove past could look at me and gawk their beady little eyes.

The police officer walks up to my window, and I wind down my window and smile innocently at him.
"Hello..." I smile and stare at him with puppy dog eyes. "How has your day been?"
He greets me with a hello and a "You do know what you did wrong don't you?"
I cough and reply "Yes.. I know... I was on my phone.. and I'm really really really sorry, I shouldnt' have done it, it was wrong. It was against the law. And I wont' do it ..." My nervousness calls me to ramble.
The police officer interrupts "Okay okay... I do have to fine you though... " He then begins to tell me the horror stories of talking on your mobile whilst driving and explains to me that it just isn't on and that I need to learn.

I learnt.

5 minutes, $145 fine and 3 demerit points later I continue driving down the road. Reach for the mobile and call my mum "Mum! I got pulled over by a cop for talking on the phone!"
"Honey,... what are you doing now?" Says my mother.
"Oh crap!" I hang up the phone and chuck it to the other side of the car.

Roller-skating.

2007-02-08T16:42:00.000+11:00

Today I had a thirteen year old girl ask me if I could take her rollerskating.

"I have a buy-one-get-one-free!" She exclaims, giggling.

How could I say no to such excitement and generosity?

So yes, unco-ordinated me, will be skating with this beautiful brown-haired girl.

Warrior and the juvy kid.

2007-02-08T14:26:00.000+11:00

I love that I can wake up in the morning and have a purpose in my step and vision in my eyes. I love that I can even in the midst of trials know that God is supreme, He is faithful, and that living and dying for the Cause is worth it. Every moment of it.

Last night was great, it was incredible. There is nothing better than watching young people have a passion and a desire for God.

These young people are my inspiration, my heroes. Alot of them come from such broken lives, broken families, broken hearts. Yet there is a drive in them, a fire, that allows them to continue to stand on their feet and keep on fighting. No matter what.

One girl, I will call her Warrior for the sake of this blog entry, inspires me to lay my life down for the King. By God's grace I was able to meet her a couple of years ago, and I can tell you, that since that meeting my life has been incredibly changed. See, a few years ago I would spend my time hanging out in the youth detention center. You know, a place where the so-called "bad kids" would be locked up. And yes, alot of them did do "bad" things such as steal cars, stab people, kidnap people, and so forth. But even though they were "bad" in society, their hearts were so... beautiful. Alot of them challenged me as to why I live my life the way I live my life. Alot of them forced me to go to a new place in my relationship with God and to grow as a christian.

Anyways, back to the story... I would hang out with these kids and one particular evening I met a young girl who was trying to hide and blend in with the couch cushions. There was so much fear in her eyes. It was her first night being locked-up and she hadn't yet been sentenced. We spent the night talking and she shared her heart with me, it was a special moment that will forever be in my memories. Over the next month that she was locked-up we bonded and she took a favour to me, always opting to choose to sit next to me throughout the activities. Once she was released however, I lost contact with her.

Yet, I just could not get her off my heart. Or her family. Her family were just ingrained in me, I had never met them, but God had given me such a love for that family. So I began to pray and ask God for an opportunity to know the family, to somehow, leave a mark there.

A few months later, by events that can only be described as God's intervention, this young girl and I connected outside of lock-up. Her and her best friend, also an ex-juvy kid, took an interest in God and began to follow me to church, and cell/life/small group.

This is where Warrior comes into it.

One night I'm at the young girls house and I'm meeting her family. Her mum, so beautiful so precious... and yes, who I still spend time with... she is a single mother with 8 children. Four different dads. None of the children know their fathers. Life sometimes throw curve balls at us that hurt. I'm in the lounge room waiting for the young girl to be ready and come with me to cell/life/small group. As I'm waiting, a loud-mouthed with the vocabulary of a truck driver, peroxided blonde hair, short unsightly mini-skirt, wearing a top that was extremely unappropriate in so many ways walks out in the room and introduces herself to me.

"Heeyyyyy, I'm Warrior" She says. Immediately I felt the prompting of the Holy Spirit tell me that this girl was special. That she stood out. Was marked. Loved. Wanted.

A few weeks later I receive a phone call from Warrior.

"Heeyy, I was wondering if I could come along to what my sister goes to..."

Sure! Definitly!

That night found Warrior, the girl, and the girls best friend in my car. On the way home from small/life/cell group the two ex-juvy kids began acting up. Swearing. Throwing things. Threatening to throw expensive items out of the window. So, ofcourse, I put my foot down and tell them that isn't on, and well, they didn't like that. Next thing I know, as I'm driving 60 k's down the road, the car door is open and the two girls jump out of my car! I quickly pull over, call out to the girls, and watch them laugh at me as they displayed items that they had stolen from my car, and then hurriedly they ran off.

Great.

Silently praying I pull out of the curb and continue driving Warrior home. And then, I hear sniffles. Crying? Sobbing? Looking in my mirror I see Warrior sitting in the back seat with tears streaming down her eyes.

"I don't want to be like my sister!" She screams.

"You dont' have to be.." I tell her quietly.

"I'm sick of her acting like this! And it's always ME who pays! The teachers at school think I'm going to be like her! I don't want to get locked up! I don't want to be a bad person! I don't want to put stress on my mum! I don't want to act like that! I don't want to be bad! I want to be good! I want to BE GOOD!" She vents.

And then, quietly sobbing, she asks "How... How do I become a christian?"

That was it. The Holy Spirit got her. She was captured by the Love of God. I can testify that Warrior has not been the same since that night. She has grown and changed and matured in such an incredible way. She is my inspiration. Against all odds she has stood and she has fought. Her love for God is amazing, her maturity and passion is one beyond her years. Since that night she has seen many of her friends meet Jesus too and also seen them transformed. Not only that, but she is an A+ student, running programs, leading others in her school. Modesty and purity is a passion of hers. Her words drip with the love of Jesus and encouragement. She is full of strength, dignity, grace.

Warrior is amazing.

And I am honoured that I could be her leader!

Oh, and incase you are wondering, I still see her sister and her sisters best friend. They both have babies now and seem to want to let go of their wild ways. I love those girls just as much as anyone else.

It's back.

2007-02-07T16:00:00.000+11:00

Exciting! Breath of fresh air!
Today everything has started back. I'm in anticipation. I'm looking forward to it. I cannot wait to see how God will move.
First prayer meeting of the year and it was awesome! I feel so so so blessed to be a part of this ministry. Woke up at 5am to get to the prayer meeting, I'm now at work, trying so hard not to fall asleep.
Tonight Life group/cell group/small group/ whatever you want to call it, starts back tonight. Cannot wait.

That is all.

Thoughts.

2007-02-06T11:55:00.000+11:00

Running, running, running. Do not stop running. Keep looking ahead. Keep looking to the Cross. Don't look at your surroundings, don't look at what's happening, just keep your eyes focused on the goal.

I feel joy bubbling over. I feel a well of emotion. I feel like I'm going to burst. I want to sing, I want to dance, I want to yell in glee. I want to hug those close to me, I want to cry from joy.

Circumstances suck, yes. In fact, it seems like my whole world has toppled down. Life isn't what you expect, but then, since when do we base things on our natural circumstance?

The Truth is, it doesn't matter what happens. Doesn't matter what comes your way. God still reigns. He is supreme. He is great. All powerful. All knowing.

Who am I to question God?

Who are we to put Him in a box?

Let Him do what He wants, ask for His will, His way. His purpose. His plans.

Faith. Not being moved by what you see, but stepping forward into what you know.

Trust. Letting go, surrendering, giving your all into His Hands.

Standing. Will we stand when it is rough? Will we stand when the world throws at you the impossibles? Do you believe that God can change the impossible? Just a little faith moves the mountains. Just a little faith will see the giant fall down. Just a little faith will see the walls come crashing to a heap.

Will you believe? Will you stand? Will you fight?

James Burke.

2007-02-05T17:38:00.000+11:00

Tired. So very tired.

Alot to write, but I simply cannot bebothered. However, I will say this, today I was walking down the street on my lunch break at work... and I walk past a window to a coffee shop. Jumped in a fright. First glance I thought it was this guy, Burkes, I read his blog.

But no, I was wrong.

To check out his photo, who I thought was the guy in the coffee shop window but boy was I mistaken, click here.

.

Pork.

2007-02-03T20:31:00.000+11:00

Today marked a moment that will forever be written in the history pages.
The morning found myself awoken, once again, to the forbidden craving. I thought it was over, but boy was I wrong, all I could think about was pork and apple sauce sandwhich. I didn't even know for sure if it existed, I never had it in my life, I have no idea where this craving sprung upon.
So, whilst trying to tame this craving, I adventured to my local shopping center with friend in hand.
"You don't understand! This feeling WILL NOT leave until I EAT IT!" I tell her.
"But it doesn't exist!" She exclaims.
"Well... let's just check the food court... JUST IN CASE..." I persist.
Sure enough, I stand before the wonderful sandwhich franchise, and on the board in blinking lights for my heart to see was "Roast pork and apple sauce sandwhich". My body began to do a dance in the antipication that at last I will endeavour to eat this food that has never been placed in my mouth before. As the lady behind the counter carefully and lovingly made the sandwhich my taste buds began to sing and saliva was forming at the mouth. I look nervously at my friend, small smile creeping upon my face. This is it. This is a moment of history. I pay the money and with awe held the sandwhich in my hand. It was time.
Sitting down on a nearby seat, I gaze longingly at this sandwhich that was now becoming a reality. For so long it was only a dream, but this dream was now in my hand, a dream that is alive. Slowly, afraid that it will disappear somehow, I moved the sandwhich closer and closer to my mouth. It was now touching my lips, I could feel my teeth sinking into the fresh bread, fresh pork, fresh apple sauce. It was now in my mouth, taste buds were cheering, my body was doing fits as the craving won over, eyes are closed as I indulged upon this food that had invaded my thought life. Pure bliss. Perfection. Apple sauce droozing down my throat, chewing on pork, fresh bread felt so soft in my mouth.
I loved it.
Now that my craving as been satisfied, and I was obediant to my desire, I can move on. Move on to other foods. The sandwhich was wonderful, delightful, excellent, so very very yummy. Somehow though, just to savour the moment, I think it will be my first taste of the sandwhich... and my last.
Yes, it's time to have a love affair with other foods now.
Cheese anyone?

Craving.

2007-02-02T11:57:00.001+11:00

I'm hungry. So very very hungry.

Two nights ago I was sleeping peacefully, having blissful dreams, cat purring by my side. But then suddenly, with no warning, I awoke to the grumble of my stomach.

"What the!?" I thought to myself, as I saw the clock blinking at me 3am...go back to sleep...it's 3am..GO TO SLEEP...3am...3am...3:01am...3:01am...GO TO SLEEP...GO TO SLEEP!!!!!!!

But I just couldn't, I could not for the life of me shut my eyes and enter into la-la-dream land again. Why is that? Because I felt this strange sensation over take my body, it began to invade me, over-ride me, it... took over. What was this strange sentation? Craving.

I'll say that again...

Craving.

Not only does the forbidden craving mess with your body, but it messes with your mind. Here I am, wanting to sleep but cannot sleep because 1) My body had a... craving. and 2) I was beginning to see things.

Things? You say. Yes, things. I'm lying on my bed, stomach moaning, body having craving fits, and in front of my eyes I see pork chops dancing, doing the waltz.

"Ohhhh how I would love pork chops right now..." Says the stomach.

But wait, it did not end there. No. As the pork chops danced and I noticed sandwhich bread skipping over to them, hugging them, and I watched as the pork chops nestled between two pieces of bread.

"Pork sandwhich.......ohhhh...." My stomach cries louder.

Just as I thought this couldn't get any worst, I watch as APPLE SAUCE/BABY FOOD is drizzled inside the sandwhich.

"Pork sandwhich with apple sauce/ baby food... ahhh..."

It was getting too much for me. This craving. It was beginning to ruin my life. Never in my entire 22-years have I eaten a pork sandwhich with apple sauce. Never. I'm not sure if they even exist...

But two days later, the craving is still there, still longing, moaning, groaning. I don't think it'll ever stop pestering me until I allow my taste buds to indulge on this sandwhich.

And when they do indulge, you'll be the first to know.

Content.

2007-02-02T00:21:00.000+11:00

Many questions that I had for God have been answered.

I feel good.

Peaceful.

Content.

Surrender.

2007-01-30T17:09:00.000+11:00

Lying on my bed with my Macbook. The cat is sitting next to me purring, staring at the screen. I have a song on repeat, blaring out of my stereo, and I love it. I love the words. I love everything about it. I'm not even sure what the song is, but I'll write some of the words for it expresses what is on my heart at this very moment.

My one desire is to live for You my God. Just to be like You, and to know You hear my cry. But I don't have much, what I have... I give to You. Take all I am, Lord I surrender all. Use me, I lay down my life at the cross. Abandon all for You. I'm willing to die, Lord I surrender all. I know Your love, cause it draws me to Your side. And I know its that love that You call me Lord to shine....

That's where I'm at, at the moment.

Have you ever been in a place where you feel like you are on the edge of a cliff. I feel like that is where I'm at, at the moment. And I know that I need to surrender to God every emotion that I feel. All this anger, all this confusion, hurt, worry, disappointment. God doesn't want me to carry it, He wants me to give it to Him.

So I will.

So I am.

Right now, I feel so peaceful.

Party.

2007-01-27T00:29:00.001+11:00

Lee Denim hat on head, blonde streaked hair tied roughly to the side, sun-kissed face, dazzling eyes, glossed lips. Hooped earings, long necklace, fingers ring-fulled. One-teaspoon singlet loosely fit, blue skinny legged jeans, black Australia Havaiana's on feet. Coco-nut butter on skin and a spray of Ralph Lauren perfume.
Pained heart covered. Plastered smile. Ready to go.
Don't let anybody see the hurt, don't let anybody know what is going on. Have a good time, laugh at the jokes, say a few jokes of your own. Smile, smile, smile. Hug your friends, but whatever you do- hide the pain.
One hour into the party I was ready to go home. I couldn't handle it anymore. I couldn't handle the questions, I couldn't handle the pretending. Normally, I'm a joyful person. Happy. Never defeated. But last night, it felt like everything was getting to me. The icing on the cake was when one of my friends go "Hey, how are you!"
And I go, "Great thanks!"
And he goes, "No you're not."
Again, I go "Yes I am!"
And he goes, "But I heard what happened."
And my reaction is, "Shut-up man."
It's time to leave, time to leave the party. Get out of there. Stop pretending. Run away. I'm walking to my car, keys in hand, plastic smile on face, teared-filled eyes behind sunglasses. Keys in door, unlock it, jump in, escape from pretend world and be free to be real.
"Don't leave."
Oh-no. This always happens, right at the point where I feel like I'm nothing. Where I can do nothing. Where there is nothing of me. Holy Spirit always speaks, always prods, always pushes. He knows what is best, always knows, always will.
"Go back and speak to her..." I'm standing at my car as the Holy Spirit begins to un-veil truth to my eyes. Sharing secrets of a friends heart. He wants me to go back and encourage her. Encourage. Me. The one who wants to run away. He chooses me of all people to encourage her.
But, this isn't about me... is it? Lay your life down. Sacrifice. Put others first. And most importantly, obey.
I pull the keys out of my car, heart is racing. Wiping tears away from eyes. And I run. This time, I run back to the party, back to the house, back to the place full of people.
I run past friends, I run past the food, I run to where she is. Sit down, and I share. Share my heart, share the word, share what I see.
We then talk for a few hours after, encouraging one another. I encourage her, and she encourages me. Testimonies of God's awesome power. Testimonies of those who decided to stand and fight.
I'm now walking back to my car, the last to leave the party. Smile on my face, smile in my eyes, smile in my heart. My spirit is lifted, and I have a skip to my walk.
I love You God, thank-you for last night. Thank-you for showing me.

Shopping.

2007-01-26T12:26:00.000+11:00

One week off. One happy girl. That one happy girl is me.

As of yesterday I have the week off and I plan on making this the best damn week ever. My boss told me to take it easy, enjoy myself, and to pray and seek God. My boss's wife also told me that as I return from my week off, when I'm back at work she is taking me out to "pamper" me.

Wow, I have it good.

My first day was a consumerism day. Prancing the shops with my friend, spending money that really should have gone towards my $450 phone bill. But the One Teaspoon singlet was too much to deny. As was the Lee Denim hat, it was just sitting there calling my name "Wear me Louise, wweeeaarrrrrr meeeeee." I stood there debating between the hat or the new Havaiana's that I really didnt' need. The Havaiana's were screaming my name just as loudly as the Lee Denim hat perching atop my head.
So I got them both.
The un-necessary spending did not end there. It continued as I exchanged money for that brand new nail polish! Two beautiful rings! Eye-make up remover! Nail polish remover! And ofcourse, I topped it off with a portugese chicken burger from Oporto.
That evening found me at Word Bookstore and leaving with two new books in hand. A fiction novel, Prophet by Frank Peretti and The Super-natural Life by Cindy Jacobs.
Despite my glee from my shopping expenditure of the day, I found myself lying on my bed with thoughts flooding my mind. Admittedly I have been trying to shut my heart away from my world. Perhaps, numb it. Protect it. Guard it. Shopping was just one more attempt at doing this. However, no matter how much I try not to think or feel, it is an impossible task. The Holy Spirit just has His way all the time, everytime. Even when I try to escape.

Day two of holidays, today. First opened my eyes at midday, after going to bed at 5:30 that morning. Soon, I will be arriving at a friends house to spend the day by the pool sunbaking and risking skin cancer, reading one of my many books in my bookshelf.

More than anything, I need God.

Havaiana.

2007-01-24T11:54:00.000+11:00

When I was a child I had a strange obsession in running around with barefeet. I loved it. Shoes brought me no glory- it was the bare foot wonder. No matter the weather, you would find me, wandering around with no shoes or socks on. I loved the feeling of wet grass between my toes, or the dry dusty ground. I loved running through mud and feeling the squishy goodness. I loved burning my feet as I would hobble along the hot gravel or pavement. It delighted me to walk across the cool shopping center floor, avoiding the security men for lack of shoes. If I had my way, school shoes would have been out and bare feet would have given in.

Wild child I was.

Not much has changed. It has been one year since I've worn shoes. Sadly, I do not walk around with barefeet, I have gone one better. It is now the glory of the Havaiana. My room is adorned with a mass array of coloured Havainas.

Silver, blue, blue/white, pink, purple, black, army green, white, light purple, spots, butterflies, green, yellow, red....

I once tried wearing shoes, but my feet felt like they were living in a prison. They needed to come free...

Yes, even in my office job I choose to wear the Havaiana with nice corporate clothing.

As I dazzle people in my pretty dresses and lovely clothes, watch out for the feet- the Havaiana will complete the outfit.

The last formal wear I went to, I arrived wearing the most gorgeous beautiful dress, I even tried wearing heels with it. Yet, just before I escaped the home to waltz into the formal hall, the heels came off and the Havaiana came on.

Last winter you'd find me smiling with a chilled look on my face. Why? You'd only need to take one look at my feet to see why. My feet would be adorned in a beautiful blue Havaiana, and the toes were also slowly becomming blue themselves.

I love the Havaiana. Without it, I wouldn't be me.

Meme thing.

2007-01-23T15:39:00.000+11:00

Here I am sitting in my big office chair at work being ever-so-productive and clicking around on people's blogs. All Said And Done, a fave blogger of mine, ever so kindly and... tagged?... me for a thing called meme or something?

Yes, as you can tell I'm still new to this blog of a world. Meme? I'm not quite sure what that is. Click on All Said and Done and click on one of her links, it explains what a Meme is.

Anyways, apparently, because I've been tagged I'm supposed to write 6 weird facts about me. (I think!)

6 weird facts about me:

1) My real name isn't Louise! Louise is actually my middle name. I enjoy the anonymity (is that a word?) of people not knowing who I am. You never know who could stumble across this. In this blog, I also make a point not to share what church I go to either. And, you may have noticed, I never use my friends names either. So sometimes when people leave me a comment saying "Louise", or mention my name in another blog... I get confused!

Gosh, now I feel like I've been lying all this time...

2) I have this insane habit of using cotton-tips in my ears. I'm so addicted to it. I just love the feeling of it in my ear. This addiction has been ruining my life for about six years now. And trust me, I'm reaping the results. My ears are sore half the time, are blocked, and itchy. Cotton-tips in ears equals bad. Please, learn from my mistakes, do not use cotton-tips in ears! They weren't made to be forced deep into an ear canal. At times I've caused my ears to bleed! Ouch! Currently, I'm trying to stop. I've just brought my self some ear cleaning stuff that helps cotton-tip addicts. Hopefully this will clear up the blockage too.

3) I have no rhythem. No matter how hard I try, I just cannot for the life of me jump in time to the music.

4) You will always catch me with my nail-kit. I don't know what it is, but I love looking after my nails. Everyday. It's a weird obsession that frustrates the heck out of my friends. But whatever, I have damn good looking nails!

5) Going away on my own is a favourite of mine. However, I've only done it once! haha! And since then I've been planning to do it for ages. Hopefully next week I will be. I need to get away, just me and Jesus. The times that I CAN'T go away, I DO like going to the beach on my own, and go for dates with Jesus.

6) I used to hang out with teenagers locked up in the juvenile detention center. That was good.

Okay, so there you go, you have learnt new things about me that you didn't know before.

Now what am I supposed to do with this meme thing? I think I'm suppose to tag somebody else.

Easy done.

I tag...

Littlestephand,

Chaplainandrews

Bring it on.

2007-01-23T12:07:00.000+11:00

Silence is my friend.

When the world comes crashing down around you, sometimes all I can do is be silent. No words will do anything or mean anything.

I'm in a place where all I can do is rely on God. And I suppose that is the best place to be. It doesnt' matter how much I'm hurting, it doesn't matter how many tears I cry- all I need to do is stand on what I know. And what I know is Jesus. I may not know what is going to happen tomorrow, I may not know what is going to happen tonight. I may feel like my future has been taken from me. None of that matters. All that matters is knowing Jesus Christ and Him crucified.

I was born as a fighter, so in the midst of trials, in the midst of hardships I will fight. I will fight for my King, even when I feel battered and bruised. I will trust Him.

If God says that I'm an overcomer, then I am an overcomer. If He says that I can do all things through Him who strengthens me, then heck, I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.

He says that He knows the plans He has for me, plans to prosper me and not to harm me. No matter what my world may shout at me, that this is a hopeless situation and a time for me to fall in a heap and crumble.. I will not. I will trust what He says about my life.

He knows all. He is all.

The true test of a persons faith is when they are faced with impossible odds. The true test comes in the times of trial. James tells us to consider it PURE JOY whenever we face trials of many kinds, for it is the testing of our faith that develops perserverance. So you know what?

Bring it on.

If this is going to make me a stronger person, if this is going to develop my character and perseverance. Then, Bring It On.

I will grit my teeth, I will run forward. I will not look back, but I will take a hold of the promises that God has for my life. Despite the hurt, despite the rejection, despite the tears that are streaming down my face- I will stand. I will stand my ground. Stand firm. Draw near to God, He will draw near to me.

Nothing is going to stop me from walking in all that God has for me.

I'm hurting, yet I'm excited. I'm angry, yet I feel peace. My instincts tell me to buy a plane ticket and to fly somewhere and to get away. But, I will not. I will stay. I will not run.

It's in these times that the glory of Jesus can shine.

Devil, you have nothing on me. So Bring it On.

Devil, I will not stop living for the King. So Bring it On.

Devil, you will not steal my praise and my joy. So Bring it On.

Bring it on.

Hurt.

2007-01-19T21:50:00.000+11:00

I haven't written in here for awhile. To be honest I've been dreading the thought of coming back here. I'm not sure why, because I love writing. And it's such a good outlet.

But things in my life aren't going too good at the moment.

Actually, I feel really hurt and betrayed. I'm trying not to feel this way. I want to respond as a woman of God, and walk as a woman of God.

But, I'm trying not to think. And I suppose that's why I've been avoiding this place. When I write... I think.

I don't want to think.

Thinking stops now.

2007-01-16T15:38:00.000+11:00

Have you ever tried talking with masking tape on your mouth?

Have you ever tried standing up to fight with your arms tied up around your back?

Don't.

It won't work.

Take it off.

The End.

7kg.

2007-01-12T09:43:00.000+11:00

I would just like to announce to the world wide web some very very important news. You may want to take a seat and hold on tight as I share this with you all.

But... Since last year, I have officially lost 7kg's!

Yeeaaahhh! Come on!

That's what Curves would do for you!

Worthy.

2007-01-11T15:40:00.000+11:00

I'm sitting at the end of a long brown wooden table. Tears are streaming down my face. I cannot see far ahead of me, all I can see are my sins and my past. The room is dark, cold, stone-walled. My clothes are tattered, dirty, ripped to shreds. Dirt is on my face. I look down at my hands, they are covered in dried mud. Broken heart. Fear in eyes. Trembling body.

But then I hear the whisper of a man. I look up, strain to see past my tears, and sitting on the other end of the long brown wooden table is a King. Why am I sitting at a table with a King? I blink, expecting the image of the King to disappear, just a fragment of my imagination.

No. Here he is. Sitting there. Love in his eyes. Smile on his lips.

The smile makes me feel uncomfortable as I know I'm not worthy to receive a smile from the King. He beckons to me, waving his hand, to show me what is sitting in the middle of the long brown wooden table.

A crown.

He nods his head in answer to my thoughts. The crown was for me? Here I am, a broken girl in the clothes of unworthiness and He tells me that the crown is for me. A small laughter parts from his lips. It wasn't a mocking laughter, more of a laughter of comfort. Willingness. Love.
Hesitantly I lean forward and pick up the crown in my hands. I slowly, carefully, turn the crown in my hands and study it. It's beauty catches my heart doing a dance. I've never seen such beauty before. I want to put it on my head, I want to walk in it's beauty with the King. With wonder and awe I begin to draw the crown to my head.

"What are you doing!?" The accuser stands by my side. He is draped in blackness. His eyes pierce me and causes hurt to arise in my heart. Gasping, I put the crown back on the table. The King never loses eye contact with me, and beckons me to pick the crown up again. It is for me.
"You aren't good enough! You don't deserve it! Look at what you have done!" His taunting whisper sounds like a scream to my ears.

Before my eyes my life is mapped out. The time I sat as a child and cried as I was pushed into a world of brokeness. The time when I bullied the christian girl reaching out to me with the love of Jesus. When I accepted that money and allowed a lie to enter my mind. The time when I had hate in my heart.

I. Was. Not. Good. Enough. For. The. Crown.

As I let go of the hope that I could wear the crown, I sensed a shift in the room. The King had arose. It felt as if time had stopped.

And He spoke.

"The Lord REBUKE YOU, SATAN! The Lord who has CHOSEN Louise REBUKE YOU!" (Zechariah 3:2)

I fell on my knees in wonder and awe. I was so taken aback by His Authority that I did not even see as my accusser fled in fear, panic, and anguish.

The King walks over to me, and offer His Hand to help me up. Blinking back tears I looked at His Hand ready to grasp it, and I notice that they were scarred. Scarred for me? Scarred for my sins. As He helps me to my feet I notice that my torn clothes were replaced with beautiful garments. The dirt on my face was removed. My muddy hands now portrayed clean hands. The room was no longer dark and cold, but was draped in majesty. Gold. Riches. Beauty.

With love in His eyes He places the crown on my head.

"You are worthy" He whispers. "I was wounded for your transgressions, bruised for your inquities. You are worthy. I made you worthy."

Salvation.

2007-01-10T14:08:00.000+11:00

"There was just... so... so much energy!" Tears begin to stream down her face. "Why.. why am I crying? When I feel so ... happy?"

I hold my friends hand and smile at her. My heart was pounding so fast in excitement. My friend, the one that I had been praying for since highschool, it was finally her time.

"Do you know what this is?" I ask, tears filling my own eyes.

"It's God.. isn't it?" She begins to laugh. "It's God!"

We then embrace in a hug as she gave her heart to Jesus. My Jesus. Now her Jesus too. My friend, always so closed off, so 'there is no God' attitude.

It is in these moments that I'm overwhelmed by the grace and love of God. For 7 years I have been praying for her. Seven long, hard, dry years.

Now I understand why Jesus tells us so often to persevere in faith. To press on. To not give up. To keep fighting.

I get it now.

Suddenly, those 7 years don't seem so long. 7 years of prayers is worth it when you see someone you love come to know Christ for herself.

Conversation.

2007-01-09T11:35:00.000+11:00

Come to me... He whispers.

I'm not worthy enough... I say.

You are worthy... He looks at me with love in His eyes.

I'm afraid... I tremble.

I love you... He holds my hand.

Teach me to love you more... I stare into His face.

Man of my dreams.

2007-01-04T14:48:00.000+11:00

The man of my dreams. Something happens in the heart of a woman when you see the man step out in the call that God has for his life. When you see him move in the compassion of Jesus and reach out to that one. The one that everybody has given up on, rejected, have a hard heart towards.

Yesterday, the man of my dreams reached out to a young man outside the arena. He was withdrawing from heroin, and coming down hard. Suicidal. Broken. Rejected. The man of my dreams lead him to Christ, prayed for him, and watched as God broke off all addiction to heroin. No more withdrawals. No more pain. No more suicidal tendencies. Just hope, love, joy. He met Jesus, and he was changed.

This young man now has a reason to live because God used the man of my dreams.

This is what stirs the heart of a woman. My heart.

Life is good.

2007-01-02T15:45:00.000+11:00

Wow, how exciting is life. God is so good, that's all I can say. His timing is perfect. Sometimes I don't understand why He does what He does, but when the picture is complete you can see how God had His hand on it the whole time. How he orchestrated it. Put it together.

Let me tell you, it wasn't easy. Perhaps it was the biggest faith test of my life. Two years. Two years of knowing, two years of battling, two years that seemed to have held so many tears. Yet, at the end of the two years... I know that it was worth it. This is God ordained. God planned. From the get-go, the beginning, before the beginning. He knew. He KNEW. For me to write what exactly has been happening and the journey that we have been on, it would take a novel. But wow, what a testimony. What God's grace. He is incredible. God is incredible. I never thought that I could fall more in love with God, but this has caused me to fall so much more in love with my Lord. My King.

I will write the journey. I will write the stories. How could I not share the love that God has for this? For this relationship. But the timing isn't yet. I don't yet feel released to write what God has ordained. Not yet. His timing is perfect, and when it is His timing, the testimony will be even more powerful.

The coming week is about to become hectic. Incredible, but hectic. Conference is beginnng. I must be prayed up. I'm about to step into a war zone. I love that God has called me for intercessory prayer. Love it.

Boyfriend.

2007-01-01T22:33:00.001+11:00

What a way to begin the year!

I now have a boyfriend!

Two-thousand-and-seven, about HIM.

2007-01-01T03:14:00.000+11:00

So, here we are. Just over 3 hours into two-thousand-and-seven. How am I feeling? I'm feeling great. My first action for the year was to pray it in. To prophesy and to declare. I know that this year God is going to do big things. I know that this year I'm going to grow and change and learn and change some more. In my spirit I just feel that this is going to be different.
I want to know Jesus more. I want to be so much closer to Him. I want to be used by Him more. I want to serve Him with everything I have. I just want everything that God has for me this year. This year I want 2007 to be about HIM and not me.

Two weeks ago I was lying on my bed crying. I screwed up again. Let God down. I was on my bed repenting. Crying. Feeling like a piece of garbage. And ever so lovingly I felt the presence of God comfort me, forgive me, and show me His grace. As I continued lying there crying, falling into a self-pity-party, I felt the Holy Spirit prompt me to stand on my feet. Grudgingly I obeyed. Shoulders slumped. Face looking to the ground. He spoke.

"Go to your friends house and pray for her eyesight." My friend was a non-christian. We were highschool mates. She had been lying in bed for the past week recovering from eye surgery. She couldn't see out of them because of the surgery.
"What! No God! How could I? After everything!" Crossing my arms I sat back down on my bed. Me? He wanted to use ME?! A sinner. A nobody. Someone who breaks the heart of my King?
"Yes..." He says. He then began to show me that it wasn't about me, but about Him. Knowing not to fight with the Creator of the Universe, I grabbed my keys and my purse and left the house. Drove to the supermarket to buy her a block of chocolate, and cried my way over. Pounding on the steering wheel. Praying. Asking God for help. Not sure what to do, how to say it. My friend had a closed heart towards God and the things of God. She didnt' believe. We would catch up every three months, and every three months she would once again say 'no' to my asking of her to church. She knew it all. I had told her. I would always share what God had been doing in my life, the trials and the victories.
"It's not about you, it's about Me." He would say again.

Arriving at the house I nervously knocked on the door. Her mother answers and smiles directing me towards my friends room. She whispers to me, telling me that she isn't sure if my friend was asleep or not. I knock on the door, heart suddenly filled with compassion and excitement. This isn't about me, this is about HIM and my friend.
Not about me.

Stepping into the room I see that it is pitch black. The room was a mess. My friend is lying on the bed.
"Hello..." I say. She smiles. I walk over to the bed and sit down next to her. Her eyes are closed, unable to open them as a result of the surgery. We talk and laugh, I give her the block of chocolate, update her on my week and ask her how she is going.
"I"m okay..." She says uncertainly. She feels lonely, rejected, out of place. I'm her first visitor since the surgery. She can't do anything but lie there and daydream.
"Is it okay if I pray for you?" I ask. A smile parts on her lips, surprising the both of us.
"Would love you to..." Placing my hand in her hand I pray a quick prayer for her, asking that she would know the love that God has for her, and that God would heal her eyes. Nothing happened. No healing. No miracle. But I knew in my spirit that God did something. Hugging her I said my goodbyes as she thanked me over and over again.

Two days later my friend SMS's me. Thanking me. She could see again. I wrote back "love ya".
But tonight... tonight something shifted. My phone rings, it is her. Something has changed. The tone on her voice, it sounded like she was about to burst.
"I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU! YOU'LL BE SO EXCITED!" It sounded like she was jumping up and down.
"What is it!?" Naturally, I was jumping too.
"You'll never guess!"
"Just tell me!"
"I'm COMING TO YOUR CHURCH NEXT WEEKEND!".

Half-laughter and half-crying resulted from that phone call. I couldn't believe it. After hanging up I was stunned. My friend. The one I had been praying for for years. The one that was never interested. Didn't believe. Would tell me over and over again that it wasn't for her. My friend. The one who didn't want a bar of it. Would rather go drinking, would rather be anywhere else but church. She now wanted to come to church? She wanted to check out this God?

Again He speaks... "It's because you made it about Me..."

Two-thousand-and-seven. A year about Him and not about me.

Communication.

2006-12-27T09:14:00.000+11:00

Ho Ho Ho Merry Christmas. Bit late, I know. But I've been away the past few days at my second home by the ocean. We had Christmas lunch in my parents new house, right on the beach. Despite the cold weather and storm clouds it was absolutely delightful. I would like to tell you about all my family antics, the wondeful presents I received (new camera!), delicious roast lunch (and seafood... mmm prawns... the next day!), and the wondeful revelation that God showed me late christmas night!

However, I have other things in mind today.

To be honest, I'm struggling to concentrate. I'm back at work, sitting at my desk, office empty, absolute silence. It's just me in the building.

I've been feeling terribly lonely lately. Waking up to an empty home (on christmas morning too!) doesn't help either. Don't get me wrong, I have plenty of people around me. But things just don't feel right right now. I don't want to talk to my closest friends about it. I'm just confused. A little bit annoyed. As I was driving to work this morning I was getting so cut up with myself. My lack of communication skills. Ah yes, people would look at me and observe me and think I'm an excellent communicator. Loud, outgoing, social. But I never can express what I'm really thinking or what I'm really feeling. It's strange because in highschool I was a public speaking champion and a debating legend. In University my friends would applaud me as a do my presentations, drawing in the crowd, being awarded with a High Distinction.

It's almost like I'm little again. Most of my childhood was spent in speech therapy. When I was young the one thing that never formed in me was speech. Oh, I could mumble. Make a few grunts. But words would never leave my mouth. So, I quickly became a freak to many people. Or that's how I felt. Never being understood. THINKING that you are communicating something, only for people to stare at you blankly. I used to hate the speech therapist. They'd treat me like an animal. Or like I was dumb. Often I would sit in the waiting room plotting a plan to let them think that even more. Just for humour I suppose. In primary school the older boys would yell at me "TWENTY CENTS, TWENTY CENTS. SAY TWENTY CENTS!" I would stare at them, grit my teeth, take in a breath, and try and say "twenty cents" for them. The result would be laughter, a twenty cent coin being tossed at my head, and the boys running off.

Even now I avoid saying that dreaded word, twenty.

Alot of the time when I'm talking I have to think about what I'm saying next, I have to consciencly decide how to place my tounge and bring forth a word. Sometimes I plan my sentences so I can avoid words such as already mentioned twenty (sucks when you're twenty-two), and ask. I hate the word ask.

Anyways, I'm off on a tangent. The point of all this was... I had a phone conversation last night. There was so much I wanted to say. But words were lost. So much is in my heart that I want to communicate, but they feel forgotten. Instead I sit there in silence. I listen, I agree, I nod my head. Why is it that when I want to say something I cannot? That's why I like writing, it gives you the opportunity to say everything you want to say (but even then I struggle!). I want to share what I really feel but I can't. It's driving me insane. This phone conversation, there was nothing wrong with it, it was a great conversation... but again, I was lost for words to express what I really felt.

I feel like that little child again. Wanting to communicate, but having no words to communicate with.

Shopping.

2006-12-23T02:52:00.000+11:00

The clock tells me that it is 2:56AM. I have just returned from an adventurous night of shopping. It all began at 7pm as I entered the shiny doors at my local shopping center. The excitement was hard to contain. To begin my shopping experience I treated myself to a yoghurt and fresh mango at Healthy Habits. This is the most sensational yoghurt that I have ever allowed my taste buds to indulge in. My first time was one week ago and already I have splurged 10 times on these delightful appetisers, costing me a grand total of $39.00. Ridiculous I know, but there is nothing I can do about it, for I am hooked.
From 7pm until Midnight I ran around the shops in high expectations of finding the perfect gift. Ofcourse, I did, and ofcourse.. I'm excited to give this perfect gift to my friends and family! My evening was also spent bumping into friends and catching up with them. Note to self: If you ever want to catch up with old friends... go late night shopping at Christmas time.
Midnight found the doors to my favourite shopping center closing, and having two more gifts to buy, I jump in my car with my two friends and drive to the next shopping center. This one was open 24 hours. Wide-eyed we pranced through the mall (how american!) and finished off our christmas shopping.
And now we arrive here.
Driving home I realised something dreadful. I'm growing old. My body was aching and all I could dream about was the warm comfort of my bed. Only a few years ago, as I rebelled against God, I would be moving from club to club and pub to pub until all hours of the morning. Ofcourse there is not even a slightest bit of me that wishes to do that, I haven't been to a club since March 2004 (hallejuiah I plan to never do that again!)... Yet, I miss being able to stay up all night long.
Oh well, never mind... I'm going to bed now.... Typing is beginning to become impossible....

All said and done.

2006-12-21T14:09:00.000+11:00

I just want to honour a blog that I find myself addicted to. You see, I never wanted a blog. It never really appealed to me. My notebook and pen was enough to satisfy my writing desires. However, one sunny tuesday afternoon I was clicking around on the internet and I stumbled upon All Said And Done.
From that moment I was hooked.
She has an incredible writing gift, always drawing in the reader. Whether she is talking about the mundane things of life, or the important issues we all face- she knows how to connect her writing to her reader.
It is because of this blog that I found myself creating my own...

So please, check out her blog- it's fantastic.

CLICK HERE

or...

HERE or...

here

Talking, walking, whatever.

2006-12-20T17:29:00.000+11:00

There is so much going on in my heart. I find it hard to express it though. God has been showing me alot, teaching me alot, stirring my spirit in ways I never thought possible.
I'm just not sure how to share what God is doing though.
I want to share it. I want to shout it out to everybody.
But instead I sit here in silence.
Perhaps that isn't a bad thing... Maybe God just wants me to walk what I'm learning, rather than talk and do no walking. And as I walk this, people will see and learn about the Glory of God.

My heart is desperate to make the name of Jesus famous...

The past few nights I have been crying for a good hour before I sleep... God has been breaking my heart.. My love for Him has grown...

Australian Fresh Apple & Strawberry Juice.

2006-12-18T23:23:00.000+11:00

All I wanted was a carton of Australian Fresh Apple & Strawberry Juice. Refreshing 100% chilled juice with no preservatives, no additives and no added sugar. To have the sensation of juice sliding down your throat on a summers day. To taste the apple and strawberry flavour. To know that your taste buds are satisfied as you guzzle the 1litre juice. At a discounted price of only$1.50.

So off I went to a trip to Coles. My mind was focussed on one thing, and one thing alone. That juice. I must find the juice. On my way to my destination I'm stopped by a lady with a cheesy grin. She is standing behind the taste-tester table. How could I resist. Free food! I stop and admire the fruit she has on display, so carefuly laid out, waiting for her taste-testers to test the taste. As I place a piece of fruit in my mouth I felt as if all time had stopped.

Holy Spirit spoke.

He showed me snippets of her life, her heart, her searching heart. Prompted by the Holy Spirit I begin to ask her about her life.

"Ohhh I'm training to be a tatoo artist!" She happily proclaims. We talk about her art for at least 5 minutes when suddenly she stops and stares at me quizzingly.
"Why are you say happy?" A confused look is planted on her face. To her it is odd that I am happy.
"Well, what's the point of being sad?" I say.
"No, there is more than that... what is it?" She is prompting me for answers.
"How bad do you want to know?"
"Trust me.. I want to know."
"How could I not be happy when Jesus has done so much in my life?"
Her face softens, a smile creeps across her face. The next 10 minutes began a conversation about life and Jesus and life and her being a buddhist but looking for answers and life and Jesus and her deciding to visit her friends church this coming weekend and life.

She thanks me as I go along my way. I walk off, heart leaping from the conversation I just engaged in, but also anticipating that Australian Fresh Apple & Strawberry Juice. The young woman is smiling at me, thanking me, waving to me, as her life was impacted by God.

I then find the Australian Fresh Apple & Strawberry Juice and excitedly head towards the cash register. With juice in hand I almost walked with a skip. Arriving at the register I'm met with an indian lady, in her early 40's, slumped over, eyes half closed, growl on face.

"That'll be $1.50.." She says with no enthusiasm. All I wanted was the Australian Fresh Apple & Strawberry Juice, but immediately I knew that the Holy Spirit had other ideas.

"What's wrong..?" I ask, ever so cautiously.
"Hmph" The indian in her early 40's replies.
"You don't look happy..." I say gently.
"I feel sick. I have a temperature."
"That's not good..." As I say this, the Holy Spirit speaks, and I must obey. "Is it okay if I pray for you?"
"You want to pray for me?"
"Yes... Is it okay if I do?"
The indian lady in her early 40's looks at me curiously, but she cannot help but smile. Already her posture has changed.
"Really? Are you Catholic or something?"
"I'm a Christian, I would love to do that for you."
"Wow.. Okay.. wow, that would be great.. I would really appreciate that."

Placing my hand on her arm I pray for her, as I'm praying she stares at me with wonder and awe. I look at her and tell her to thank God, because it's not me at all.

Tears form in her eyes as she holds my hand and thanks me over and over again. Waving good bye I slowly left Coles with the Australian Fresh Apple & Strawberry juice in my hands. Looking back I saw her calling over her work mates, she points over at me, and jumps up and down excitedly.
The temperature had left.
God healed her.

That was the best Australian Fresh Apple & Strawberry Juice I have ever tasted in my life.

Cleaning toilets.

2006-12-18T12:22:00.000+11:00

Last night after church I did what I know best- I was cleaning toilets. I have a strange love for cleaning toilets. Most people find it quite absurd, but it brings me some sort of satisfaction to watch a once dirty toilet become crystal clean. It brings me delight to know that the next occupant of the toilet will be blessed to sit upon a bowl that is fresh and smells ever-so-pleasant.

However, last night I felt like trash. Here I was scrubbing away with the toilet brush and suddenly feeling what I can only describe as a 50kg weight come upon me. I fell on my knees, curled up into a ball and proceeded to cry like a baby. I felt so heavy and I felt so depressed. My mind was going out of control, and I didn't know what to do with myself. A great friend of mine, as previously mentioned in Beach Glass and Sand found me on the floor wondering what the heck was going on.

Frustrated with my sudden outburst of emotion, I drove home with tears streaming down my face and fists thrashing the steering wheel. Driving up the drive-way to my suburban home my heart began to thump loudly. Grabbing my bags from my car I ran into my house, put a worship CD on, and pumped my speakers to the highest volume. It was midnight by this time, I'm not sure if anyone was home, but at this point in time I did not care. Falling on my face before God yelling out into the night-air, I began to feel the presence of God in such a powerful way. He spoke to me, gave me revelation, showed me that this feeling was NOT OF ME, but an attack of the enemy. He gave me a new strategy in warfare and helped me back onto my feet again so that I could fight.

And fight I did.

No spirit of heaviness, oppression, fear, condemnation can grab a hold of me. The Spirit of God lives inside of me. I'm washed in the blood of Jesus. Just one drop of the blood of Jesus is more powerful than all the demons in hell. You know what? I feel incredible.

He (he, being, that little squirm of a guy known as the devil) has nothing on me. Nothing. Nothing.

Next time I'm cleaning toilets I will remember this.

Coke explosion.

2006-12-14T15:17:00.000+11:00

Have you ever created a mentos-coke-bomb before?

I have.

You grab a 2 litre coke, a whole lot of mentos, pour it into the bottle... and BAM. There is an explosion. And a fountain of coke spraying in the air for all of us to dance around in. The feeling I like best though, is when you KNOW the explosion is coming... you're pouring the mentos in... you can feel your heart thumping... your knees go weak in excitement... tears are welling in your eyes at the thought of what is about to happen.

Currently, I feel like a 2 litre coke bottle with mentos being poured in. I feel that an explosion is about to take place. I'm about to snap. About to break (in a good sense). I'm frustrated, but frustrated in a good way. Tired, yet I'm ready. Anticipating. Nervous. About to cause a mess as my coke sprays everywhere.

I'm looking forward to it.

I'm about to go off.

I am a Coke bottle about to fizz over.