Simple Joys...

I have always loved the water, I am a swimmer. Maybe being Australian, living on an island it's in my blood to love the tranquillity and sheer power the ocean possesses. There is nothing like natural water, but I still enjoy to cold and peace I feel in a pool.  But swimming in a squad has never diminished my pleasure with water, but sometimes distracted me from it.

Last week my coach made us do a six hundred meter breaststroke swim. I inwardly groaned, "not breaststroke it's slow, its going to take forever." But as I've learnt, never argue with a coach (or they'll make it twelve hundred), so I pushed off and glided.

After a few laps, when my mind eased up on the technique and counting 1..2..3.. glide,  I began to feel  the water at my fingertips, the incredible feeling of just gliding through beautiful water, I wriggled my fingers slowly, just to feel the water slide through them, it was the best six hundred I've swam. It caused me to think of my creator, the creator of the world, I smiled through the breaths and glides, I felt happy and peaceful. I thanked God for the simply joy of gliding through and feeling water.

 

I think being in a rushed world that demand so much of our time, we forget the simple joys that were meant to be felt in the midst of our business. I'm not at all saying being busy is bad, I know I've never been so busy in my life as I have been this term (hence the lack of blogging), and I know that my business isn't wrong, it's preparing for a six week mission trip, finishing home schooling, buying a school uniform, moving house and writing and researching for debates. I think our problem is we get caught up in it, we forget that life was also meant to be enjoyed, smiles were supposed to be seen and laughter was meant to be heard.

 

 

This week try to find a simple joy that makes you smile. Love your family and friends, don't be shy, enjoy life, and make time for your maker.  

Still a little foolish

I have always been one of those unfortunate 'feel-compassion-towards-every-lving-creature' types (with exception towards snakes and sharks). I tried curing myself of feeling sorry for every squished ant when I was a little girl by forcing myself to delibratly squish one, but alas it did not cure me, I only felt dreadfully guilty after.

Now I am almost 16, but still childish in many ways...

My school desk is suited next to a window. I don't delibratly distract myself, but on this particular cold, geography lesson I was feeling comfy with a doona snuggled around my legs, my eye just happened to notice an unfortunate bug trapped in a pool of water sitting in an upside-down chair. I immediately felt sorry for the poor fellow trapped in water on such a cold, miserable day and then reproached myself for getting distracted from my lesson over such a matter. I proceeded to read about poler regions and other dreadfully cold places. My mind  however couldn't quite abandon that wretched bug trapped in a watery grave, and I felt sorry for it, thinking how cruel life is for such a creature, ignored by most, never loved or thought kindly by anyone, and imagine how I would feel, if I was a bug. Because when you think about it, God's really blessed every human by creating them a human and not an insect. 

As my mind whirled all these thoughts, I soon realised that I would have no peace of mind until I delt with this bug. 

I walked silently away from my school desk and quietly turned the laundry door knob and braved the harsh outdoor environment (where I live isn't actually that cold, but I'm not very tolerant of cool weather, I'm happier in the tropics). I tipped over the chair and freed the bug. As I turned around, I noticed several men building a house right behind our backyard fence. I'm not sure if they noticed me or not, but I felt a little foolish. 

As I sat back down to my desk, I smiled, such is my life. 

PRAISE THE LORD!!!

Panda's home. Safe and sound. Thank you so much to all of you who prayed.

Panda arrived Thursday night around 10. I was in bed when I heard a distintive meow comming from our side door. My heart went in my mouth and my legs were trembling as I reached the door, hoping it was Panda, and then my beautiful boy, now 3 kilos smaller, ran through the opened door. I was so happy I could'd speak for a while until I finally yelled 'Panda's home!'

I assure you, he received quite a welcome. After many hugs Panda devoured two big helpings of cat food. Meanwhile my youngest brother slept like a log, I don't know how he managed.

The worst aliment is a few missing whiskers and a cut on his paw, but I'm happy, he's safe now.

Today Panda's been mainly sleeping, we don't know where he's been, but he's exhausted. Panda was gone for a whole 12 days.

All I can say is PRAISE THE LORD. He answered our prayers. He cares.

The dancing song

I grew up listening to Rich Mullins. He's my Dad's favourite musician and as a baby I would go to sleep listening to his songs. Funny thing is, if I can't sleep, I still find and listen to a Rich Mullins song on my iPod.

A particular song called 'Creed' was re-named 'The Dancing Song' in our household becuase I loved it when I was little and would dance to it, mum would pick me up and we'd dance together in the kitchen. 

Here are the lyrics...

I believe in God the Father almighty 

Maker of Heaven and Maker of Earth 

And in Jesus Christ 

His only begotten Son, our Lord 

He was conceived by the Holy Spirit 

Born of the virgin Mary 

Suffered under Pontius Pilate 

He was crucified and dead and buried

CHORUS: 

And I believe what I believe 

Is what makes me what I am 

I believe that He who suffered 

Was crucified, buried, and dead 

He descended into hell and 

On the third day, rose again 

He ascended into Heaven where 

He sits at God's mighty right hand 

I believe that He's returning to 

Judge the quick and the dead 

Of the sons of men

I believe in God the Father almighty 

Maker of Heaven and Maker of Earth 

And in Jesus Christ His only begotten Son, 

Our Lord 

I believe in the Holy Spirit 

One Holy Church, the communion of Saints 

The forgiveness of sin 

I believe in the resurrection 

I believe in a life that never ends

CHORUS

Isn't it an awesome song? I still love it so I thought I'd share it with you. 

Why I Love Adventure

Gandalf: The world is not in your books and maps. It's out there.

Adventure: an unusual and exciting, typically hazardous, experience or activity (Oxford dictionary)

I love adventure. I like reading about it, watching it and enjoying the various adventures of life. I also believe it is essential for the christian life. If you think being a christian means you'll have a stress-free life with no hardships, I'm sorry to say, but you're sadly mistaken, there is nowhere in the bible that indicates being a christian is easy and nothing short of an adventure. 

I've heard it said that Christians should be in the world, but not of the world. We aren't supposed to be chasing the temporary 'stuff of earth', because this earth is not our home. Our eyes should continue to focus heavenward. However, we aren't supposed to be hiding our light within us from the world because we still live in the world. We are in a war and it's good vrs evil. "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." Ephesians 6:12

Adventure is fighting against evil for righteousness. Adventure is sharing your faith with those around you. Adventure is saying "Lord, I'm here, use me for your glory."

And I suppose that's why I love adventure so much. Giving up yourself for a greater cause no matter what personal cost thrills me to the core. 

~Lauren





  

Unspoken Words

This post is based on a pondering I had many months ago, recently at a sleepover these thoughts were brought back again. My apologies to the friends that have heard this story before. I'm not writing this for sympathy or to complain. I am writing it because this was an event in my life that caused me to reflect and I hope that by sharing it with you, it may cause you to reflect and ponder also.  

Last April a friend of mine died. Her name was Kiya, and I had known her for a very long time. Eight years ago we moved town, and we had a letter writing friendship. She was a most beautiful young woman who was fourteen when she passed away. Kiya loved the Lord and I have fond memories of her willingness to be a servant in many aspects. She died riding a motorbike.

Kiya and I
2005

After she died I morned. One thing that particularly hurt me was the many unspoken words. Had I ever told her how special she was to me? Did I say her servanthood inspired me? The answer was probably no, and that was hard.

This caused me to reflect. What if any of my other friends suddenly passed away? What havn't I said to my other friends and members of my family. Would those unspoken words haunt me too? I prayed that God would help me learn to speak those everyday unspoken words, however awkward it may be.

I did, to some small degree. I made a bigger effort to write deeper thoughts, and more loving words in my family's birthday cards. I tried to tell my friends how much I appreciate their friendship, however I found words and harder to speak then write.

Much later I was at a friends sleepover. I was (for some reason) re-telling this story. It then hit me that most of those precious girls whom I call friends, have never heard me tell them what they mean to me.

I am still trying to learn how to communicate those unspoken words, because it is hard. We live in a culture that says it's ok to 'tease' your friends, laugh at them, subtly bring them down. I have been guilty of this just as much as anyone. I'm defiantly no saint or 'holier-then-thou' girl.

The reward of speaking the unspoken words is very special, it's a deepening of a friendship.

Waves

Recently Dad and I were flying to Cains in a domestic flight. It was a beautiful day, the clouds were puffy and pure white, the sky was a very pretty blue. Nothing down below on earth could possibly  harm me I lazily thought.

I love the feeling of flying. The whoosh of power you feel as you take off is thrilling, you're pressed to your seat and feel the lift and then the blissful feeling of flying above the ground.

I looked down at the sea below us. I saw many small white things, I thought they might be hundreds of sea-gulls, or possibly litter washed up in a small area. It was puzzling me, so I interupted Dad's reading.

"Dad, what are those white things down below?" I asked.
"Rips, waves." Was his reply. "They look diffrent up here don't they?"
"Yeah, I couldn't tell."

Although I felt a little silly not gussing, I thought about our holidays at the beach and swimming in the waves. I remembered one particular insident.

The waves were huge of my small ten-year-old body. I cluthched Dad's hand and we went under and then out the other side or a wave. Dad was laughing as I quickly wiped all the water out of my eyes so to not block my view from the next upcomming wave.

I could tell the next wave was going to be big, it was quickly forming and towering above me. We were in the prime wave spot. Fear clutched my heart.

"Dad, I want to turn back."
"Why, I'm here with you, I'm not going to let go of you."

Dad held my hand and we faced the wave together. I took a deep breath and we dived under it. I could feel the wave over me, but it couldn't harm me. I came to the surface smiling. Dad was there holding my hand.

Now above the earth I looked down at what once seemed huge and frightning. I smiled.

I thought about times in my life I had worried over small things that seemed huge at the time. My heavenly dad was there. And just like my earthly dad,  he said "why are you afraid? I am with you, we'll face it together." Holding God's hand, we faced every 'wave' that was frightning. Looking back, many of those things were small and unimportant to lifes big picture. Like seeing waves from up high.

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