a christmas post

I have a love-hate relationship with Christmas. I suppose that sounds like such a terrible statement, but hear me out. By the time you've finished reading this you may even agree with me. Who knows.

I love Christmas because it's a celebration and I love celebrations. More importantly, it's a celebration of the greatest gift our Father in heaven ever gave us - his son. I can't even imagine what that would be like and even trying to get myself into that kind of headspace is just bewildering. My comprehension at his sacrifice is humbling. The Father's sacrifice of his son and the Son's sacrifice of his life. How could he choose that? I mean, I love those that I love but dying for them when they have wronged and hurt me causes serious hesitation. Simply said, I don't deserve what He did for me. That is why I love Christmas. Because even though I don't deserve forgiveness, he still chose to come in human form, experience humanity and die in my stead. How mindblowing.

But I hate Christmas because of what has been lost in the meaning of why we celebrate. I hate that gifts, shopping and a man in a red suit have become the reason that so many people love the Christmas season. And I hate that so many have forgotten to celebrate what He did for us. I'm so saddened to realize that for many people around the world, they don't know the reason why we celebrate.

Wishing you a wonderful Christmas. May the revelation of what God did for us at Christmas resonate throughout the coming year. Enjoy the celebration with all that it entails!

grace

I don't have a lot of words today or a great story to share, but this pretty much sums up how I feel about grace:

Grace is...

...and I don't deserve it, don't need it and don't want it.

Yet He still offers it. Grace is love of an unconditional brand.

I'm linking with Emily at Chatting at the Sky for the 31 days of grace series

reflections

A year ago today, I wrote my very first post. You can go back and look at it if you like, but I'll warn you it's nothing amazing. I had no idea what shape this little piece of bloggyness would take, let alone considering I would stick to it for a year to find out. In saying that, I can't overlook the enormous gap of six months between October and April when there was not a single post written. I never started out with the intention of wowing the world with my amazing writing and fantastically witty and intelligent thoughts. And since I don't claim to be a great writer or philosopher, (which I still don't think I am) it has been nice just to express my thoughts and life happenings no matter how mundane and uninspired they are. They always seem very inspired in my mind but never come out onto the page the same way they start off in the brain. Mind you, I'm not much of a brain person. I'm more of a heart person. I've discovered the heart provides much more depth than the brain and my best writing almost always stems from a heart thought rather than a brain thought. Lets hope I'll keep that in mind for the future of my blogging journey.

Since I started blogging, this little blog of mine has taken on more design changes than I care to admit to. I'm just saying, don't be surprised if you visit and I've done a complete overhaul. Not that I plan to do anything remotely like a full makeover right now;) I've also had several name changes so who knows, one day that might change again too! But essentially, behind the aesthetics, (which I love tinkering with) this feels like home now and I've got no plans to leave.

Highlights from this first year of blogging include considering what it might be like to die, a post dedicated to my pajamas, a once typical day in my life, the beginning of counting a thousand gratitude's, a failed challenge, a blog award (which by the way, I didn't have anyone to tag so if you'd like to be tagged, I tag you. Let me know so I can read it!) very boring study related procrastinations (one of which was creating another blog altogether) and surviving a rather decent sized earthquake! And my favourite posts ever (which I am the most proud of) are here and here. I think I've made a great start, but to be honest, as much as I've enjoyed documenting my own life during the past year, I'm so excited about what's still to come. I'd love it if you'd join me:-) No pressure! And for those of you that have read anything of my blog before now, thanks for giving me the time of day. This random, average, slightly nerdy girl appreciates it very much:-)

treasures in jars of clay.

I am surrounded by people still reeling from an event that will likely be remembered for the remainder of their lives. I know that I will. Three days ago, my city was struck by an earthquake. A big one. And we are still feeling it's effects. Aftershocks have now become normal for us and I no longer jump when I feel the house moving. I still occasionally wake up in the night because a sudden jolt of the earth interrupts my peaceful bliss. Yet for all this, I am humbled at how blessed we are. As a city and as a nation, we have suffered no casualties, only building damage. As a family, we have lost some roof tiles. And as an individual, I have lost a precious perfume bottle which was bought for me for as a birthday gift. I fell in love with it when I first saw it. It was beautiful and delicate and bespoke intricate refinement. I filled it with a perfume that held a precious memory for me. My grandmother had Alzheimer's disease in the years before her death. On the very last night that I saw her, (she didn't remember who I was) she asked me where my husband was. Keep in mind that I was 11 at the time! She said other hilarious, nonsensical things that stuck in my mind and ever since, and it has been the way I remember her. A funny, quirky, forgetful, lovely old lady. When she died in 2001, we bought a yellow rose which we planted in her memory. It had a beautiful, distinctive fragrance and one day I found a perfume which smelled just like it. I bought it and put it in the bottle, the one which broke three days ago. Yet having said so, I have lost nothing. Sure, a bottle of perfume. But I still hold the memory. Yes, some roof tiles. But they are going to be repaired and replaced. My family is safe and well. And truly, my city has lost some beautiful and historically significant buildings but its people are alive and well. And for all we have lost, and as much as I grieve for what we have lost, I have gained something more precious, more beautiful. I have considered my treasures. Re-examined my priorities and my values. And after doing this, I have realised that they are truly not found in material things. My treasures are stored in a place where they cannot be destroyed, cannot fade away into nothing. No amount of earthly corrosion and destruction can affect them. They are safe. And knowing this, my heart is filled with peace and tranquil stillness. It breathes a sigh. It finds rest. In the midst of terror and confusion, I stand on solid ground. My rock, who is the same today as He was yesterday that He will be tomorrow.

Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken. ~Ps. 62:5-6

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. ~2 Cor 4:7

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Day seven of September Challenge- a memory

And unwrapping and celebrating the small things at chatting at the sky

on purpose.

I have a pretty ordinary life, there's not too much about it that screams "I'm special", "I'm super talented" or "pick me, I'm the best one for the job". No, outwardly I'm not that special (of course, in God's eyes, I'm something pretty special and that's all that really matters), I'm pretty average in my offerings of talents and I certainly don't think I'm better than anyone else. So, all in all, I appear quite ordinary to any stranger peering through the windows of my life.

I know so many Christians (myself included) who have grappled with the confusion and uncertainty of their identity and purpose in a life that is ordinary. I know so many people who have missed or ignored their purpose by trying to live a less ordinary life.

Today I've been thinking about purpose. About my purpose, about purpose in general, about how God thinks about purpose. It pops into my mind every now and then and I pause for a moment to ponder. I don't have a very visible part of church life, I don't have something specific that I feel my life is fulfilling its purpose for at the moment, I don't even really know what the purpose for my life is yet...but it doesn't matter. I don't have to know about a specific calling and purpose to my life right now. I don't need to seem like I'm fulfilling my purpose because I get a more 'visible' job or area of service. I don't need to seek approval from the world to affirm my purpose.

I am reading a book at the moment in which the author says, "In order to care for my wife, I resigned from fulltime Christian service - something that represents the ultimate type of work to many believers. I struggled doing so, because I felt that my new role was not as significant as my previous one. I was looking merely through human eyes. As I came to see the importance of all good work, I saw purpose and value in what I did, that it pleased God and He would reward it."

I realised that already have a purpose. If nothing else, my purpose in life is to worship God. And to serve Him. Plain and simple. Not anything too fancy or praiseworthy in the eyes of the world but there you go. Even if I never 'find a specific purpose' for my life, my life will not be (and is not) without purpose. His purpose for us doesn't just fit nicely into a box which we put a nice-sounding label on. I am sure that God's purpose for me will take on various forms and they will change according to His leading. However, my primary purpose in life remains to give all glory to God. Without Him, I am nothing.

And as for the ordinary life I speak of, being ordinary is not that ordinary at all. Living in God's purpose and will in an ordinary life is far more fulfilling than living an extraordinary life without Him.



Today I'm unwrapping my thoughts with Emily at Chatting at the Sky.

optimistic thoughts on death.

I think I know what it's like to die.

Wow, that's serious. Do you want to know what I mean?

I've got whooping cough. Arrrgh, and I hate having it. Most of the time, I feel like I need to suppress the urge to cough because when I do, I cough on the exhale and can't draw breathe on the inhale. It's horrible. The first time it happen was at night. I woke up in a spasm of coughing and when trying to breathe in, discovered that I couldn't and then sort of, panicked. Well, not sort of - I did panic. Wouldn't you, if you found yourself unable to breathe? I got up, all the while struggling for air - my poor lungs - and went to find my mother. Who better to go to in a crisis than your mother? I have never been more thankful that I still live in my parents house than at that moment! She had heard me coming (I could have woken an entire heard of elephants with my commotion. And the more I couldn't breathe, the more I panicked and the more I panicked, the more I couldn't inhale any air in. Oh dear. But as you see, I am still here, otherwise I would not be writing this. My lovely mother helped me calm down and finally I could slowly begin to calm down. As I calmed, it became easier to breathe.

Since that 'episode', whenever I get a spasm of coughing, I need to drink water to make sure it doesn't continue to the point where I can't get any air into my lungs. So everywhere I go, to university, to church, to meet a friend, I take a water bottle. To ensure my survival;) And when I go to sleep, there is water next to my bed. Guaranteed, by morning it will be finished. (Maybe that's why I have such good skin at the moment).

I've always had a fear of dying a painful death. Not a fear of death itself, but of a painful death. I got a bit of an insight into what it would be like to die. (This is all very morose, isn't it?) I hope that my death (which is hopefully not for a very long time) will be peaceful. But who knows? Maybe I feel differently when I'm an old lady of 90 something. Maybe it would be good to go out with a bang! On the bright side, we would all have a good laugh about it when we get to heaven and say "I don't know what I was so scared of, that was great. Now I'm here!".

Note: When I do die, whenever that may be, I don't want a really sad funeral. That would just be so depressing. I don't think my death will be a sad occasion (for me anyway). I want it to be like a party that celebrates my being home with Jesus.

a moment to breathe.

It's quiet now. There are no more bumps and thumps, no more evidence of other people inhabiting the house in which I live. Doors have been closed and lights extinguished. Heads have been laid down on soft, downy pillows. All I can hear now is the quiet hum of my laptop, the tapping of my fingers as they hit the keys, the heater on the other side of my wall producing a low droning noise as it pumps out warm air. And outside, the gentle pitter-patter of raindrops as they plop against the roof and my window-pane. It's a lovely sound. Much lovelier than the angry wind, which whistles loudly as it shoves its way past, rudely shaking the trees and shrubs in its impatience. Yet together the wind and the rain make a sort of music together. One compliments the other, at times even giving each other a turn for a solo before the other enters again as though part of a symphony. I don't know much about music, or how orchestras work. I don't need to. Tonight I'm captivated by the music outside my window. It's beautiful.

Sometimes we need to stop and take a moment. After all, what would our lives be without the time to enjoy the small, seemingly insignificant things? Life get's busy. Hectic. It's important to find moments in the everyday to breathe. It uplifts us. It takes us from the mundane and ordinary to the precious and extraordinary. Tonight, my moment to breathe has taken the form of listening to the beauty of God's outdoor symphony. What's yours?

scent of a rose.

I'm looking at a beautiful white rose that my mother cut from our garden. She had put it in a vase and delivered it to me in my room along with a glass of guava juice as I was awakening this morning. Now, it's afternoon and my room is filled with its scent. And such an amazing scent too. I don't think I could really do justice to this particular rose's beauty, so I'll cheat and show you a picture.


This particular rose has got me thinking about influence. Our lives say something. Even if we aren't public figures or celebrities (which I don't quite see the attraction of), we emanate something of ourselves onto the people we encounter in our everyday lives. I hope that others will smell the sweet scent of God's goodness and blessing on my life. That my love for him is by no means religion, but an eager and willing choice to surrender who I am and become more like Him. That is the most beautiful form of influence.

visions of 2020.

Thank you, Abbie, for awarding me with my first ever blog award! It made my day. In order to accept this particular award, I need to say where I see myself in ten years time. Well, that seems such a long time away. However, from previous experience on the contemplation of this question, it's not really such a long time in the grand scheme of things. It's really only an elusion!

So, where do I see myself in ten years time? It's now 2010, it will be 2020. It does seem odd to be thinking about 2020. So futuristic! (It is, silly - it's in the future). I would like to think by the time ten years have passed, I'm a wife and a stay-at-home mother with about two or three kids with one on the way...but how am I to know. Where I'd really like to be is exactly where God wants me to be, whether that means married with kids or doing a great job that I love, or just a job that I do. But besides the reality of my situation in life, whatever that may be, I would like to be a woman of faith, an illustration of God's goodness and faithfulness and above all, I'd just like to walk in all that God has for me. Sometimes that's a scary thought, since I don't know what that will be. But thankfully he does.

So yeah, that's where I'd like to be in ten years. I wonder what I'll acually be doing?

P.S. Abbie has a fantastic blog, which is on the list as one of my favourites! You should definitely check her out. There's a link in the sidebar. The very cool one which says "Abbie Writes". Or you can click here.

Oh yes, and one more thing. In order to get this award, I'm meant to tag others to do it too. But I don't have anyone to tag as of yet, so if you're here and you'd like to share where you see yourself in ten years - I tag YOU!! Go for it, just let me know so I can read all about it.

loss.

Less than a week ago, there was a tragedy that took that lives of three young men. I will not go into detail other than to say it was a very unexpected accident and that it made the national news. Of course, I thought it was a very sad story. But it did not affect me other than thinking it was a terrible thing to happen and shat a horrible thing for the family members to find out. A day after the incident, I recieved a phone call from a good friend to tell me she had just watched the news and found out about the accident. She sounded very shocked. It was a complete juxtaposition from my calm demeanour on the other end of the line. However, I too found myself in a state of disbelief when she said, "Did you know that was ____'s brother that died?". I could not help but freeze where I was and ask, "Are you sure?". Our friend had just lost his brother. What an aweful realization. My stomach dropped. It was no longer just a story in the news. No longer just a tragic accident that was sad but had no direct affect on me. It was close to home. Even though I had never met the person who died, his brother was someone I knew. How I grieved for his loss. My heart cried. I could not, still cannot, fathom how deep they were hurting at the loss of so close a family member. Grief, I understand. Everyone has encountered grief at some time or another . I have known grief. Yet grief and loss are two things that are intertwined but seperate. I, who have known grief can never know what they have lost. Just as they can never understand what I have lost. Loss is personal. Loss is something that when gone, cannot be filled. Yet, having experienced loss in my own life, it gives me the tiniest glimpse into what my friend and his family are living through at the moment. I pray contiunually that God would bring comfort to them in their time of loss. He is the only one that really, truely, knows. He knows the things we do not even how to describe in words. He knows what we have lost. "...the Lord is a God who knows..." 1 Sam 2:3. He knows.

where the heart is.

Home. Is such a nice place to be. There is no place on earth like it. I never realise how much I love being home than when I return from being away. Just recently, I came home after being away for a little more than a month. As much as I love being away, exploring other places and pursuing things in life that enrich my experiences of the world and myself as a person, I love that feeling of getting home. It's a beautiful feeling. It all starts the day before (or maybe a few days before;) I leave. The anticipation of travelling back is just lovely. It's not a feeling of wanting to be home now, but rather the lingering knowledge that the comfort and security of home is just around the corner. And then the actual journey itself is one of my favourite parts. It's an adventure without the "fear" of the unknown. I know what home is like, I love what home is like, and the knowledge of its warmth and welcome awaiting my return makes my travel back oh, the more sweet. Upon arrival, I love the feeling of familiarity. It's my very own peice of paradise. A quiet space to get away from the world. A secret place. Just for me and the ones I love best of all.

dear God, please...

You do not have because you do not ask God.
Stop!
Read that again.
Has it sunk in yet?
I am seriously challenged by that sentence. There are many areas in my life where I want God to move, things I can envision in my mind yet disregard it, thinking it would be impossible in reality. James 4:2 reveals that God desires us to ask. Not just to put our thoughts, hopes, dreams and desires in a box to be later discovered covered in dust in a dark recess of our heart. But to lay the things we want for our lives in God’s hands by asking him. Verse 2 begins by saying, “You want something but don’t get it. You kill and covet, but you cannot have what you want.” In our own power we can try but can only get so far. It continues further on in verse 3 saying, “When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with the wrong motives”. That’s an incredible thought. When we ask for something, God looks at our hearts and the core motive behind our request. But even more incredibly, when we ask with the right motive, we are told we can expect our prayers to be answered. Jesus says in Mark that whatever we ask for in prayer and believe is received, so it will be. Jesus also tells us, “Ask and it will be given to you...for everyone who asks receives...”. It’s simple really. Yet I often find myself guilty of thinking of something and wanting it to be reality without actually talking to God about it. Whether it be something in my own life or in someone else’s, I catch myself thinking of the limitation of the situation instead of asking our limitless God to work in the situation for his glory. God desires to grant us our requests. Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Matt 7:9. If we, sinners, know a good gift when we see it, how much more would our Father in heaven want to give us, his children, the things we ask for and come from a pure heart? Matt 7:11

hi!

Welcome to my new blog.
How exciting! I never thought that I would actually have anything I could say, well enough to blog about anyway. I'm sure you will find much of my writing simply rambles about nothing important and occasionally come across one or two pearls of wisdom. I don't consider myself too much of a philosophical person but I have thoughts. Deep and profound thoughts even. And even if no one ever reads a single word I write, it doesn't matter cause it's more for my own record than anything else. But if you do happen to stumble upon my page, by chance or otherwise, I'm so glad you have! If you'd like to comment or even send me an email, I'd like that very much:)
So, let the blogging commence...