I'm HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  :D

Still Alive and Kicking...

I've quit eating rice.  We just couldn't agree.  Now I'm feeling much more alive.  Yay!

It's hard to believe I've been here for nearly 4 months already, and I'm about to make my second trip to Kuching to renew my visa.  When I return with the new visa, I shall be halfway through my sojourn in this beautiful land.

I now teach Maths to seven students at Living Waters School.  Several come because of learning difficulties.  The others come for extra coaching because they are behind in their class.  I enjoy the one-on-one teaching, but not being fluent in the language is challenging, and sometimes downright frustrating!  But they are mostly learning something, so that is encouraging.

I have several afternoon/evening responsibilities.  Every afternoon I have 3 TB boys to dose with medication.  Around the same time I give Milo drinks to 3 older boys.  They are in their mid to late teens, around 155cms tall, and only weigh around 40kg (5.5 - 6 stone).  The Milo drink is to help with weight gain.

On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights, between 7:30 and 8:30pm, I sit at the bottom of the stairs and hand out Picture Bible Story books (in Indonesian) to room leaders, who take them to read to the little kids (anak kecil) in their rooms before they go to sleep.  They then return the Bibles to me.  The other nights of the week are meeting nights, except Saturday, which is movie night.

On Saturdays I have the responsibility of selecting the movie for movie night, unless it's birthday night, when the entertainment is all organized by other people.  Ronny and Kay Heyboer have a collection of dvd's and vcd's, which are sorted into those suitable for all ages (blue sticker), and those suitable for age 10 and above (red sticker).  I select a blue sticker movie for everybody to watch, and then two red sticker movies for the older ones to choose from afterwards.  The main movie is projected onto the white wall above the stairs (the same place we have the songs for church), while most people sit on the floor to watch it.  Everybody comes up from the Asramas for this event.  Those who want chairs sit at the back.  The later movie is shown on the large TV around the corner, after most people have gone.  The young people pull up a chair - or a stack of chairs if they want to see over other heads! - some do sit on the floor, and quite a few will stand at the back for a while.  Sometimes they decide to watch Indonesian TV instead, which is okay unless it's an unsuitable movie, which means somebody in charge has to waltz in and make them change channel or watch one of the given movies.  I've had to do that once.  I hope I don't have to do that often!

On Sunday afternoons I choose another two blue movies, and then after dinner another two red movies in case the older youth want to watch something after the evening service.  They rarely see the whole movie at that hour of night, but if there are no Indonesian subtitles, they often skip the non-action sequences, which speeds things along in movies that have a lot of dialogue.
There are a lot of comedies.  They like to laugh, and you can laugh in any language.
We also borrow the movies to watch on our laptops - as long as the laptop can play local-region movies. It's nice to share a room with someone whose laptop does that - mine doesn't anymore... hehe.

Busy

Attending wedding tomorrow (Sunday) as photographer.  On duty about 7am (when the bride starts getting ready).  Service could be 3 or 4 hours long, so it will be a long morning, with lots of standing for me.  I'm resting today - making sure my own batteries are charged, as well as the camera and laptop's!

I've been working in the sewing room again this week.  Last week I cut out fabric for uniforms.  This week I was mending and sorting a bird's nest of tangled embroidery threads and designing patterns for cross-stitch bookmarks.  I'll be teaching some girls to cross-stitch.  Back to the sewing room next week also.

Effective Prayer 2

Another prayer answered!  Actually, this was more than a simple prayer.  This was some serious fighting on someone else's behalf.  Earlier this year I began learning more about spiritual warfare, reading a really good book about our spiritual armour (I can't remember what it was called) and another on spiritual warfare ("The Adversary").  The Lord gave me opportunities to use what I was learning, and I was greatly encouraged by the results.
After I arrived here at Living Waters, I noticed a boy who had some violent tendencies.  I wanted to pray for him, but it took me a while to find out his name (whenever I thought of asking, there was nobody around to ask), and I also found out that he has a violent family background.  One evening nearly two weeks after my arrival I retired to my room to spend time with the Lord, and immediately the Holy Spirit led me into praying for this boy - fighting for him, actually.
Over the next couple of days, I tried to see if there had been any change, but though I wasn't seeing him pushing and shoving, that could be just me not seeing it happening.  It wasn't until last night as I was sitting with one of the other girls, Miriam (nurse from Holland), that I had confirmation.  The boy came up to give her something, and after he'd gone, Miriam said, "I don't know what's happened to him.  He's so sweet now!"  I beamed in delight but asked her to clarify, just to be sure, then told her what had made the difference.  Yay, oh yay!  Oh, the power and authority we have in Jesus' name!

Effective Prayer

Earlier this year I was challenged to pray with faith for healing.  I have heaps of faith, but two things I did not have faith to pray for were healing and money.  Well, we've certainly sorted the issue of praying for money, though it never works quite the way I expect.  Praying for healing was much harder.  Not just praying for myself, but praying for others (in person) - and expecting a quick result.  The first four times I don't know if anything changed or not.  I prayed for two different people on four separate occasions, each time because I felt an urging in my spirit to do so.  It didn't really matter to me whether anything happened or not - what I was learning was to obey the prompting and pray for them.  Each time it was easier.  I began to realize that my first source of help for any injury or sickness should be the Great Physician, Jesus Christ.  When someone complains of an ache or pain, my response should be, "May I pray for you?" and then pray for it there on the spot.  However, I am still training my reactions, so I can still be slow off the mark, or it can take me a while to get up the courage to say something.  I missed an opportunity when I noticed one of the missionaries here had a sore neck, but more opportunities arose.  First was when I myself got sick.  As I sat shivering with fever in the car in Nanga Pinoh, I kept thinking, "I should ask them to pray for me," but I never quite managed it, until I we had returned.  When Mary came to check on me after dinner, I suggested that she bring a couple of others and that they pray for me.  To my delight, she had been just about to suggest the same thing.  I ended up going to the Clinic to have the nurses check my temperature, etc, and they prayed for me before sending me back to bed.  Along with the prayers of folk back home (Mary let my church family know that night that I wasn't well), I improved rapidly.
The next opportunity was when Mary complained of a sore hip.  She couldn't lie on that side because it hurt too much, and it was affecting her whole leg.  I promptly offered to pray for it, and did so right there and then.  I thought no more about it, but the next morning, Mary said the leg was not only better, but she had slept on that side and had a really good sleep!  Yay!  I prayed for healing and she was healed!  It gave my faith in that area quite a boost.  The important thing, though, was that I knew I should pray, and I obeyed.  The rest was up to God.  Even if nothing had happened, I would still continue to obey and pray as I am prompted, because that's really all that's required of me.  God can't act on a prayer of faith if we don't pray!
I'm still training my brain to immediately respond (aloud), "Let's pray for/about it...!" but progress is being made.  It's wonderful to see the "effectual fervent prayer" in action, particularly from one's own lips!

Evening Meetings

Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday nights we have meetings from 7:30pm till about 9pm.  Thursday night is cell group night, so there are little meetings being held all over the village.  The other nights we have everybody together in the Training Centre.  At 8pm, the little kids all go off to bed.  They gather at the foot of the stairs (which is basically the platform area for songleaders, preachers, etc), the songleader prays for them, then they scamper or drag themselves up the stairs to bed, girls to the left, boys to the right.  We can then watch them trotting back and forth with toothbrushes...  One night a small boy's voice shouted from a bedroom and there was a ripple of laughter from below.  Someone translated for me: "You never brush your teeth!"

Watching them go up the stairs during the meeting always reminds me of a scene out of "The Sound of Music", as the von Trapp children said goodnight and left the adults' party.

As the meeting continues, the adults who are room leaders gradually return from checking on their young charges, quietly stepping around the preacher and joining the 200 or so people sitting on the floor.  The only meeting for which we have chairs is the Sunday morning service, and sometimes the rows are so close together there's hardly any room for my legs!

Sitting on the floor certainly saves set-up time.  The Westerners, particularly the older ones, often grab a chair at the back.  I switch, depending on how my limbs are coping.  If a child particularly wants to sit with me, then I sit about halfway up the room with my back against a wall.  Any closer to the front (and to the speakers) is too loud for my ears.  The volume does vary a bit, depending on who is songleading, but it's always very loud up the front.

Acclimatizing

Sunday last week (9th), while on a trip to Nanga Pinoh, I developed a fever.  By the time we returned about 6pm, my temperature was 39.5degC.  I had the added discomfort of VERY sore, somewhat swollen feet from too much wandering barefoot on hard surfaces (mostly tiles, some concrete).  The fever was gone by the next morning, but I was still unwell, I could hardly walk, and my appetite had disappeared completely.

While in Nanga Pinoh, I had bought stationery so that I could work on my Indonesian language skills.  By Wednesday I was able to get my head around that, so I borrowed Emily Johnston's notebook (the Johnston family are from Australia and will be here until mid-December), in which she had written her own bi-lingual dictionary.  I finished copying that last night.

By Wednesday afternoon, I had had enough of resting and was ready to get into some work, but Thursday was a public holiday.  I still find it odd that a Muslim country would have a public holiday for Ascension Day (the day Jesus returned to Heaven).  I tend to get my days muddled anyway (I thought that Wednesday was still Tuesday), but having a Thursday turn into a Sunday really screwed up my timetable!  We had a sleep-in and a 9am-11am church service just like a Sunday.  And then instead of cell group night we had another everybody-together service in the evening, with a visiting ministry team from Jakarta.  That was interesting to watch, because the preacher was from Beijing, China, so he spoke Chinese, and one of the men from Jakarta translated into Indonesian, which meant that the English speakers still missed out!  But it was entertaining to watch, and he had a series of pictures to show on the projector, which made it more interesting.

After all that inactivity, I was really keen to work on Friday.  Malcolm Taylor needed soil shifted from where the truck dumped it, down to the newly-terraced garden, so I shoveled soil into a wheelbarrow, trundled the barrow half way (15meters), where Malcolm (later Samuel, the doctor) had an empty barrow ready for me.  He took the full one, and I returned with the empty and started again.  I was enjoying the work and the teamwork and the sunshine (this time with sunscreen as well as hat), stopping for a drink every so often.  Nearly two hours later I began to run out of energy, so I stopped.  But by then I think I'd already done too much.  As I headed back to the TC, my head began to spin, my stomach added its own twists and turns, and I had to sit down under a tree quite suddenly, drinking water and waiting for my system to catch up.  That was about 9:30am.  I did some cleaning of tiles in the bakery during the afternoon, but that was pretty much my week's work, as far as physical labour went.  I spent a lot of Saturday sleeping.  Now I have people saying, 'give it time, give it time'.   After all, I do have over 7 months still to be useful here.  That's not to say that I'm not being useful now!  It's just the physical labour for me is patchy at best.

So, I would say that the hardest part about acclimatizing is making the mind realize that there is an adjustment being made.

High Temperatures and Other Challenges

I'm told it's common for new-comers to get sick in some way in the first couple of weeks.  In that case, I'm par for the course.  Along with rather sore, slightly swollen feet as they try to adjust to the hard-surfaced mostly-barefoot life, and wrists that have been a bit jarred from working with a crowbar, yesterday I ran a high temperature.  I went to Nanga Pinoh with Malcolm (Mary's son-in-law), Mary, and Douglas.  On the way we stopped at the hospital to pick up some medicine for a couple of children.  That was an incredible amount of waiting!  Malcolm finally decided to go on to Nanga Pinoh and come back for the medicines.  But in the meantime, I was beginning to feel cold (it was raining, which brought a cool breeze with it), and my headache of the day before was returning, not to mention that my feet (well-supported in socks and sneakers with orthotic insoles) were complaining severely.

In Nanga Pinoh, I wandered up and down the street while Malcolm and Mary bought a TV and speakers (to go with the DVD player Mary had brought from NZ) and looked at fridges.  I found and bought a pair of sunglasses for about NZ$4.60.  I attract quite a bit of attention as I wander, being so tall and obviously foreign - and according to the nurse at the hospital, beautiful.  Hehe.

By the time we had finished at the electrical shop, I was beginning to shiver.  I wished I had a jacket (not something generally needed here) and I thought I was probably running a fever, since my head was quite hot.  I stayed in the vehicle after that, while the other three went to a few other shops.  When Douglas came back with a new shirt, I promptly asked if I could borrow it because I was cold.  Lol, naturally he thought I was joking, but when I explained, he let me wear it.  I knew for sure now that I had a high temperature.  At the small supermarket, Malcolm purchased the writing pad and notebook that I need, so that I could stay in the car.  By now, all sorts of ideas about what could be wrong with me were running through my head - as they do - and I just wanted to get back to my bed.

I couldn't be too bad, though, because my brain and my sense of humour were still working.  When we arrived back at Living Waters, via the hospital to pick up the medicines, driving over half an hour on awful road, 5 minutes on wonderfully smooth tarseal, and about ten minutes of graded gravel road (the logging road - it's kept in much better condition than other roads), I went straight to bed while the others went in to dinner.  After dinner, I went to see the nurses at the clinic, where I found that my temperature was 39.5degC, and that my sore feet probably just needed a good rest.  They and Mary prayed for me, gave me paracetimol and instructions for cooling off and staying cool, and sent me to bed.

Before I drifted off to sleep, I listened to the singing coming from the Sunday evening meeting.  How I love to hear them sing!  I want to learn the songs.  That's why I needed writing paper - so that I can write things down and get them translated, thereby learning more of the language at the same time as being able to understand what I'm singing, which is always a good thing.

This morning I am much better.  My temperature has dropped, the headache is absent, and I have had breakfast.  My feet are still sore, but I'm taking the day off the hard labour, hehe.  I may take tomorrow off as well, but we shall see.  I'm praying for speedy recovery.
I definitely felt prayed for yesterday morning, as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit wrapped me in a group hug, and in spite of my discomfort yesterday afternoon, I was able to face the enemy and say, "You shall not discourage me.  I am a daughter of the King, and though I am weak and barely able to stand at this moment, He will fight for me, and He will have others fighting for me.  He has brought me here for a purpose.  You shall not discourage me, and I shall rise to fight again."  When Mary prayed for me, she said (I can't remember her exact words), that the Lord would heal and strengthen me, not because of my love for Him, but because of His love for me, which fact brings tears to my eyes.  I am so glad I'm not doing this alone.

At present I'm sitting in the computer room, with children's voices and a tape or CD of children's music coming from the preschool next door.  This is very pleasant.  Later today, between rests and drinks of water, I intend to do some language study - at least write down all the words I've already learned to help stick them in my head.

School

School in Indonesia can be rather hit-and-miss.  The children may go to school from, say, 7am-9am, then the teacher will say, "Come back at 1pm", when they'll have another couple of hours, or maybe only half hour before being sent home for the rest of the day.  And that's if the teacher turns up at all.
Here at Living Waters, the primary school that has been built accommodates just under 100 students, and currently caters for grades 1-3.  Next year grade 4 will be added.  The teachers have been sponsored by Rivers of Life Ministries to do their four years of teacher training, with the arrangement that they will repay that by six years of teaching here at Living Waters.  That's a year and a half for each year of training.  They get food and board here, plus some pay.  The pay is less than a teaching job elsewhere, but having their living expenses covered more than makes up for it.  Unfortunately, they don't always recognize that, and because of a shortage of leaders, many are also house parents (so they have the kids practically 24/7), so it is not uncommon for a teacher to up and leave, in spite of the training 'deal'.  We need more leaders/house parents, and faithful teachers.

There will eventually be four schools at Living Waters.  An upper primary school, and intermediate, and a high school.  The high schoolers currently travel into Nanga Pinoh by bus (50 minutes to cover 17kms), leaving at 6:30am (they have their breakfast at 5am, before prayer meeting).  I think their school beings at 7:30am.  They return for lunch, then join the afternoon work force here.  They seem to have several different uniforms, for different days of the week.  I've seen them in blue and white, and brown and orange.  I'll be watching more carefully next week.  The rest of the students travel into Manggala, which is only a couple of kilometers away.  They leave on buses about 7am, but I'm not sure if they get back for lunch or if they are the ones who get back at 3pm.  It's still a bit confusing for me.
There is space cleared for the upper primary school.  It will take about two years to complete, and it will be needed in two years' time, so it's high priority - along with several other buildings... but so far it has not been begun.  I don't know if there is even a floor plan for it yet.  I do know that it will cater for 200 students.

Lots of the children who come here haven't had any, or very little, education.  Quite a few have to go into a catch-up class.  That is a very challenging class to teach, because they are all different ages and at slightly different stages.  They spend a year in that class, and the aim is simply to teach them as much as possible to get them reasonably close to their age-related grade.  However, many work a grade or two behind that.  It doesn't seem to worry the children, though.  They highly value education, and generally count it a privilege, especially as many families cannot afford it.  Part of the mission here is to provide free, reliable education.

Water and Ants

Life with a headache isn't so much fun...  Just for today, I hope!   Due most likely to several hours of painting walls above my head (with a roller on a pole/stick), lots of bright daylight (without sunglasses), and possibly not quite enough water.  "Minum air" [meenoom ah-eer]... I can't remember the word for 'lots of', but that means "drink water".  We sweat a lot (and I mean a LOT), so drinking water is vital.  The right water, though.  We have river water coming to the outside taps, the showers, the washing machines, etc.  Put river water in your mouth and you're likely to get a lot more than you bargained for.  The rivers here flow upside down, with the mud on top... and everything else that people upstream dump into it.  It's a wonder that clothing comes out of the wash clean, because the water going into the machine varies from grey to brown.  The sinks have rain water, which is collected off the roof.  This is okay to drink as long as it is boiled first.  For drinking water, there is a stainless steel drum in the kitchen which is filled with filtered rain water.  The common room has a jug and several bottles filled from this, and I also have a jug in my room that I fill from this source.  I use this water when brushing my teeth.  Awkward, but essential.  Most people carry a bottle of water to work with them.  I like to leave mine in the fridge overnight, then it doubles as a face-cooler for a while.  Some people even freeze theirs.


When filling a cup from a jug that has been sitting on a shelf or bench for a few hours, it is important to check your drink for ants.  Some of the ants here are so small they're really hard to see, especially when walking over my brown arm...  Anything spilt?  The ants will quickly find it and clean it up in a few hours.  When the grey speckled tiles on the bench look like they're moving, it's probably ants scurrying about, and somebody has neglected to clean up properly after mixing a drink. =)

Bits and Pieces

I share a room with an English girl  - who is leaving on Wednesday, so soon I shall have a bathroom to myself, and the bottom bunk to sleep on.  I may try turning off the fan at night, too, for less noise.  Our room is on the corner of the building, so we have plenty of windows, which means airflow.  The next room along, which has a connecting door to ours (so does the room behind), only has the window next to their outside door, and not much breeze comes from that way.  There often isn't a breeze, anyway.  I don't know what the temperatures have been, but I certainly can't complain of the cold!
I feel right at home with the western girls that are here - nearly all of us are over 5'7".  We stand out in this country of short people.  When I came through customs in Kuching Airport, I looked around and thought I was probably the only woman there who could comfortably lean her elbow on the counter.  Some of them couldn't even see over it!  When we stepped out of the airport, I said to Douglas and Mary (my travel companions), "Well, I should be easy to find around here."  I haven't changed that opinion yet.  I'm taller than most, if not all, of the Indonesian men here, too.  Thankfully, the missionary men are all reasonably tall, or I might get a complex, hehe.
Dogs are common in Indonesia.  In fact, the two roadkill I saw in Malaysia were dogs.  Most of the dogs are of the same type, a medium-sized dog with a foxy head and slender build.  We have quite a number here at Living Waters, including 8 puppies that are about 3 weeks old.  They are very cute, especially when they're all sleeping in a drain among the wheels of a couple of parked bicycles...
The scenery is fantastic.  If some of the buildings here were in New Zealand, they would be worth millions just because of their views.

Food

When I'm not at the computer I think of all sorts of things to blog, but now that I'm here, I can't remember what they were! =\
...

The food is really good.  Once somebody has said grace, we turn our plates over and start filling them (the food is put out on the tables – the rice is in 10L chilly-bin containers - plus one or two dishes of veges), then wait until everybody has their food.  At night, before grace, somebody reads a Scripture passage and shares some thoughts from it, sometimes with one of the westerners reading the English translation, then after we have our food, they make announcements (in Indonesian), but eventually they finish with “Selamat makan,” which means much the same as “bon appétit” and is the signal to start eating.   It doesn’t matter that the food is cold, because in this climate cold food is better than hot food.

Wednesdays and Saturdays are chicken night.  Tonight (Monday) we had fish.  A whole fish, including head and tail, but minus eyes and innards - about 6 inches long.  Now that I'm working I'm hungrier, so I eat the Indonesian breakfast of hot rice and whatever else they put with it; this morning was noodles with a green vegetable and a little scrambled egg.  It was very tasty.  Sometimes we have papaya, sometimes finger bananas.  At lunch today we had steamed cake/bread instead of fruit, which is heavy, nice, and rather indescribable.  Last night we had potato chips, which are rare.

Usually the vegetable dish the Indonesians eat is slightly different from what we foreigners get, and the rice is the only food item that goes out on their tables.  The rest is taken around and dished out to them by the cooks, because most of the diners are children.

The children who have moved into the Asramas (children's houses) eat in their Asrama with their house parents.  The Indonesian paid labourers feed themselves in their accommodation.  Everybody else, including all the missionaries who have their own houses, eat at the Training Centre.

Arrived!

Greetings from Living Waters, Kalimantan!  I arrived here just before 9pm on Friday night, after a looong day of bus travel over roads that were sometimes good, but mostly bad.  When they were good we reached speeds of 80-85km/h.  When they weren't so good, we averaged 40km/h.  When they were really bad, 10km/h was enough to bounce or rock you in your seat.  But it was fun - apart from the cigarette smoke in the second bus.  The first bus, from Kuching, Malaysia to the junction in Indonesia, was a big, comfortable, air-conditioned coach; the second bus was small, crowded, carried the luggage on the roof, and travelled with windows and doors all open - with the luggage man/second driver usually leaning out the back door.  We were constantly passing people on motorbikes, which is the common form of travel in this country.  There were a few cars and utes, a number of other buses (also with the luggage man leaning out the back door), and quite a lot of small trucks, usually carrying fruit or dirt/sand/rocks, but nothing like the numbers of motorbikes.  It was rare to see one with a mere single rider.  If there wasn't a passenger, there would be some kind of load on the back, sometimes so big that the rider couldn't be seen from behind.  Motorbikes are also used to transport the whole family - Mum, Dad, and child.  I did once see three young adults on one bike, too.

At the border, my suitcase was the only one that they wanted to open, I think because of the large packet of pens, and various bottles of shampoo, etc.  They were then fascinated by my Muckboots, which they fed through the x-ray machine again because I had stuffed them with things and then slotted one inside the other. (I probably won't wear them very often, but somebody will make good use of them when I leave them behind.)  I was very glad to have Imel along (Indonesian for Email and said almost the same way - her real name is Emilia).  She goes through there so often, she knows the customs officers – and the bus drivers - really well.  Imel's job is escorting foreigners from Kuching to Living Waters and vice versa.  She renewed her passport last year, but it is well over half full already.

When the bags were reloaded into the bus, Imel’s back-pack was in the next compartment – right next to ours, but not quite with.  When we reached the junction where we changed buses, we all, including Imel, forgot about her extra bag (which she doesn’t usually have with her), and the bus left with it still on board.  She ran after the bus, trying to attract the driver’s attention, but he didn’t see her.  Thinking quickly, Imel stopped a car and got a lift with them to catch the bus.  The bus goes very quickly, and the car driver wasn’t able to catch up.  Praise God, the bus stopped for a passenger, so Imel did manage to get to it and retrieve her bag.  She paid the car driver for his trouble and he brought her back.  She was only gone for 15 minutes.  Praise the Lord!  I knew He would sort it out okay.  The next adventure was mild in comparison, but added interest and a leg-stretch to the trip.  The bus got a flat tyre – not surprising on those roads!  It was quickly replaced, more or less in the dark; I think maybe they have a lot of practice at that task…

We left Kuching, Malaysia at 7:30am, and reached Nanga Pinoh, Indonesia at 7:50pm.  That's over 13 hours, because Indonesia is an hour behind Malaysia.  I haven't figured out why, yet.  We were met, had dinner at a restaurant, then began the even rougher ride to Living Waters in a 4wd.  By the time I got out again, my head was spinning and all I wanted was sleep.  I was awake enough to appreciate the handwritten welcome sign attached to my bed, recognize the music of "Notting Hill" as the girls began a movie in the next room, and ... zzz.  =)

"Last" Details

I'm sitting in bed watching a spectacular sunrise, two 'lasts' creating an extending list of things that won't happen again until I return in 8 months' time.  Last sunrise in NZ, last morning in this room and bed, last opportunity for my favourite cat to snuggle up with me, last proper sleep for 40+ hours... Soon we'll have our last morning prayer and praise together.  There is a touch of sadness, but also great excitement.

It has been quite wonderful to see the Lord's provision in these last few weeks, and no less in the last three days.  Unsolicited financial support has been offered, and right out of the blue, a back-country church with members who have known my family for years sent a donation through my parents.

Now I need to do the final packing, make my room look somewhat tidier, and move into my room all my stuff that still lives in the hall... hmm, that will probably cancel the 'tidy' bit... hehe.

Borneo, here I come!

Faithful as Promised - the Swim to Shore

What a week!  I started it with no money, no passport, no visa, no flights to Auckland, no insurance, no way of getting to Rangiora for an appointment for the final vaccination, no...   You get the picture.
Last Saturday, a meeting with my pastors established that I am ready to go - as long as the funds and documentation all fall into place in time!  To cut a long story short - the Lord has proved Himself faithful over and over again, and I'm definitely taking off this coming Wednesday.  Hallelujah!


Tuesday was a challenge.  My final vaccination was booked in Rangiora for 3pm.  We have three vehicles, but all the registrations were overdue so we couldn't go anywhere, and only one had enough fuel for the trip anyway.  Also in mind was the fact that the next day my mother was arriving for a couple of nights and would need to be collected from the airport.  During our morning prayer and praise, Jesus took me back to the pinnacle above the sea (see "Solving the Freak-Out Moments", March 29), but when I clung to Him, He held me away and said with excitement and laughter in His voice and a twinkle in His eyes, "Are you ready?  Are you ready?"  With dawning hope and delight I replied, "Ready for what?"  It was time to dive off the pinnacle and swim past the sea monsters to shore.  Ai-yi-yi!  As long as He was going with me, you bet I was ready!
The dive took place that day.  I needed a ride to Rangiora and back, but I felt the Lord was saying to just wait.  Shane said he was getting the same message, but around lunchtime, I was beginning to stress, and wondering if the Lord was going to say He actually wanted me to fly at a later date (which didn't actually make any sense considering how He'd already organized everything to date, but the mind does odd things when under pressure), or whether I was supposed to be making some phonecalls looking for rides, etc.  I was close to tears and fighting the desire to put the whole trip in the too-hard basket and go and hibernate for a couple of months.  About 1pm I did make one call, but the lady wasn't home.  I said I'd ring back in half an hour.  Turns out the Lord was making sure I didn't do things any way but His.  Within 20 minutes a vehicle pulled up our driveway and tooted the horn.  Somebody who didn't make a habit of dropping in on their way through town had followed a prompting from the Lord to come and see what we needed.  The result was that we had one car re-registered and with enough fuel for a trip to Rangiora, two trips to the airport, and more besides.  Praise the Lord!  It does pay to be obedient when the Lord says, "Just wait."


When I arrived home from Rangiora, I found that my new passport had arrived.  Now I needed $70 plus courier fees so that I could send the passport away to Wellington again, this time to the Indonesian Embassy for a travel visa.  I needed to have it on its way on Thursday at latest so that it would be ready in time.  Glory be to God again!  A friend of my mother, who we visited on the way back from the airport, having no idea of my circumstances except that I was going on a mission trip to Borneo, donated enough to cover the visa application plus some of the ticket price to Auckland.  The visa application was sent on Thursday morning.
Now I just had to find a way of collecting it in Wellington on my way north rather than hoping they would courier it back in time.  With the Lord's help it is all working out.  My tickets to Auckland are booked; I am flying from Christchurch to Wellington.  A relative who lives there is going to collect my documents from the embassy and deliver them to me at the Wellington airport, where I have a 3-hour wait.  I am blessed to know so many wonderful people!  I then fly from Wellington to Auckland, where I have another 3 hours before I need to meet my travel companions so we can check-in for our international flight together.  It's great to have that sorted!


I have also been gifted a new, light-weight suitcase suitable for this trip.  My old one weighs about 5kg when empty, which is not conducive to packing for a 20kg baggage allowance.  My new one is also bright blue, which makes it much easier to spot on the luggage conveyors. =)
The funding for the first two months, promised some time ago, has been deposited, and someone else has promised to continue the weekly accommodation allowance once that is used up.  That rather took my breath away and I had to have the statement repeated slowly... hehe.


There are a few things still needed, but after such timely provision by the Lord all week (and for the last however many months!), what can I do but trust Him completely?  I remember that we have made that scary dive from the pinnacle and are swimming to shore, safely past all the sea monsters, and it won't be long before we are on secure ground again, ready to face...what?  The jungles of Borneo, no doubt!  Lol.
Today I am supposed to be doing a trial run of packing, but so far I've done lots of other things instead.  I hate packing. =(


Not only has God provided; He has done what I said I would like Him to do: cut things fine so that it would only be possible for Him to accomplish it, so that only He would be glorified.  It certainly hasn't been easy or quite comfortable, but it's been wonderful all the same.  I love to serve such a mighty, powerful, faithful, and caring God!

Getting Creative with God

Up until this week, most of my creativity and a lot of my time has gone into cross-stitch needlework.  This week has brought a lot of variation to that - in fact, I don't think I have placed a single stitch in the last 5 or 6 days.  On Sunday, Belinda was given a collection of card-making equipment.  She already had some herself, but the gift both prompted activity and enabled greater variation in the creativity.  Accordingly, the two of us plus another friend sat down on Tuesday afternoon to make greeting cards.  It was such fun!  By the end of the day I had created 7 different cards.  One of them didn't please me at all, so the next day I cut it up and used parts of it to make two more cards.
Part-way through card number 9 (Wednesday), two of Shane and Belinda's nephews arrived to stay for a few hours.  I was able to finish the card and have another underway before I was called upon to eat lunch and then help entertain.  The board game "The Game of Life" kept us amused for some time, and then it was the boys' turn to make cards.  No chance there for me to continue with my own!  But taking the trouble to make a few suggestions, help with the more difficult shape punches, and clean the rubber stamps for them was made doubly worthwhile when both boys decided to make their cards for me.  So heartwarming!  I was hugely blessed.  I've decided I need a scrapbook to put such gifts into.  I seem to have begun a collection.
After the boys were collected, it was nice to return to the tranquility of creating my own cards.  My 11th was half-finished on the table when I stopped for the evening.
By Thursday my card-making frenzy was slowing down, but I still managed to produce another 3 for a total of 14 - not that I was aiming for a record or anything; I just had so many ideas to try!  In the late afternoon, I stopped for some quiet time with God.  The result was a creative idea straight from the Word of God.  Where better to go for ideas than to the Creator?  It wasn't long before I was back at the table, this time busy with a pencil as I scribbled down the ideas He had given me.  The plan for a collage picture had taken shape.  Later, during our evening prayer and praise, the Holy Spirit continued to inspire me in the formation and content of the picture, giving me the title for it and making the purpose of the picture clear.  I then laid it aside to work on it today.


That was my plan this morning: work on the plan for the collage.  I'll probably create the actual picture when I return from Borneo, but there's plenty of planning to do, and even that will require a lot of patience and perseverance.  It's not exactly a simple project. =\  But apart from sellotaping two pieces of scrap A4 together, I got nowhere with it.  Another project with a deadline presented itself.  I decided to make an anniversary card (15th card in 4 days!) for my pastors who celebrated their 30th wedding anniversary yesterday.  Then Shane suggested I make them a gift to go with it: a cross carved from a piece of petrified wood and secured to a block of wood with a Scripture verse written alongside.  I was delighted with the idea!  So, with Shane as technical advisor, I spent the next 4 or 5 hours in and out of the garage, sanding, polishing, writing, and oiling.  The sanding turned my hair white, the polishing wet me to the elbows and sprayed my face, hair, and down my front, I started writing "Revol" (for Revolution) instead of "Revelation" (thankfully, the 'o' adjusted fairly easily to an 'e'), and I probably transferred oil from my fingers to my jeans - but it was heaps of fun! =D  Now it is finished (and beautiful), along with the card, and I am creatively exhausted!  The collage can wait till tomorrow.  Time for some cross-stitch, I think.  Hehe.
I love life with the Creator!

Pyjama Party with God

I am pleased to say that I do not live an ordinary life, and last night I had another extraordinary experience with God.  Soon after 8:30pm, Shane and Belinda realized that the programme we were watching was a repeat, so it was turned off and we began a time of praise and worship - much to my delight; I love these times of corporate communion with our Lord.   Using the "Songs of Fellowship" songbook, we carried on from where we had left off on the previous occasion, working through the "I" and "J" sections.  Lol, that sounds quite pedantic, but I assure you it wasn't in the least!  We had a wonderful time with the Lord and then discussing what He had said, done, and is doing, and generally reveling in the presence of God and the joy of being in His perfect will.  It was after 11pm by the time we somewhat reluctantly headed for bed.


It was even later by the time I was finally settled in bed waiting for sleep, but as often happens, while most of me was enjoying the rest, my head was wide awake.  Seems I wasn't the only one, though.  A few minutes later, Shane came to share something important that the Lord had just told him.  He went back to bed, and the house became quiet again.  Then close to midnight, I heard Belinda moving around, saw a light switched on, and soon realized that both were in the lounge.  The sound of pages turning indicated that at least one of them was reading the Bible.  Being still wide awake myself, I considered joining them.  And then an interesting thing happened: the thought came to mind, "Get up and join us."  I wasn't sure if I thought it myself or if it was God speaking, but I promptly swung out of bed.  Not quite certain yet, I waited in my doorway for a minute or so, then headed to the bathroom first.  On the way back I casually paused in the lounge doorway and asked, "Is this exclusive?"  I didn't really think it was, and I was right; they laughed and welcomed me.  And then began the extraordinary part of the night.  For the next three hours we stayed up, just to be in the Lord's presence.  Three people dressed in night clothes plus socks plus an extra layer or two, occasionally singing, often in silent communion, sometimes talking, and wearing perpetual goofy grins...  and all because it wasn't just us in that room.  God's presence filled the room, and His pleasure in our company flowed over us.


Do you realize how much God loves it when we worship Him?  The call that got me out of bed should have been written, "Get up and join Us!" because it was Jesus calling me to join a sort of divine pyjama party.  Since we had never really left His presence and that sense of worship, by the time we again went to bed we had spent over 6 hours in praise and worship.  That's a first for me!  Is that extraordinary?  Yes!  Wonderfully so!  But the best part is that while we get so much out of it, God also takes great pleasure in it.  He longs for every one of us to come and commune with Him.  No, He doesn't always call us to spend most of the night in worship, but when He does call you, do you run to Him in joy?


This hasn't actually changed the fact that we have no money, nor the related challenges we face each day, but with constant experiences like this, living this extraordinary life that God has called me to, I know that there is no way I would walk away from this.  There is absolutely nothing to equal walking with God.  Absolutely nothing!


PS.  God is calling you to an extraordinary life with Him, too!  Do say yes! (c:

Wahoo! Yeehaa!

Behold my excitement!  LOL.  I have first-hand evidence of Matthew 6:33, "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you."  Only hours after I wrote "Letting Go but Holding Tight" the Lord provided $500!  [Thanks to the donor, also!]  I had such fun yesterday getting some things done and feeling business-like.  I came home from the bank with a fistful of twenty-dollar notes - a long time since any of us had seen that much cash!  Vaccinations are now happening next Monday, I have enough fuel to get there and back, the car's registration doesn't run out until the next day so I'll still be driving legally (gotta love that timing!), my passport photos have been witnessed, the renewal application filled out, and posted with the required documentation.  I also spent some time online answering emails and checking out travel visa requirements.  Hmm, I need proof that I have sufficient funds to last me while I'm away.  That should prove interesting, hehe.  I wait with excitement to see what God will do next.


An odd thing is that it's actually more of a challenge having some money than having none.  Or maybe that should be: having some money.  It would be so much simpler if God just provided the whole blooming lot and let us get on with it!  With absolutely nothing, all I could do was leave it all in God's hands and sit back and relax.  With a portion provided, I have to do something with it, and suddenly the possibilities for mistakes and waste are felt.  Asking for wisdom becomes imperative, and I have to turn my mind away from all the other things I need but cannot use this money for.


Life is such a joy.  I continue to trust God to bring things to pass in His time and way.


Zipidee-doo-dah, zipidee-day... :-D

Letting Go but Holding Tight

It's disturbing how often one can think one has given absolutely everything into God's care, that one is fully content to let Him do everything His way only, and then find that there is still something in which one is holding back or restricting Him in some way.  That was me over the last couple of days.  Excitement and expectancy really high, money so low that one account has gone into the red and the other has 16 cents in it (nobody else in the house has money either), and an appointment for travel vaccinations due at 4:15pm on Tuesday (yesterday).  With visions and words from the Lord indicating that the time for things to start happening was very close, I went to bed Monday night without any doubts of God's ability to provide the couple of hundred necessary for the medical visit.


Tuesday morning still nothing had happened and Shane told me I would need to cancel the appointment.  I didn't want to.  I REALLY didn't want to!  I hadn't realized it, but having that appointment gave me a false security, because God would need to do things within a certain timeframe - MY timeframe.  I was trying to hold God hostage with an appointment I knew I needed, but that I had no way of getting to (insufficient fuel) or paying for.  Yep, that's ridiculous!
On top of that, I was tired, somewhat disappointed, and totally didn't understand what God was up to.  My Bible reading had only said "Wait patiently for the Lord," [Ps. 27:14], which because of the depressed sort of mood I was in, I wouldn't see as a message from the Lord until later, so add "The Lord didn't say anything to me today" to the mix, and I was one chirpy chick... or not!


Yet I still trusted God.  I knew that He had brought me this far, and He would not desert me in the middle.  I knew He would fulfill His promises to us - in His perfect time.  It felt a bit like Abraham killing his son of the promise, Isaac, but I made the call and cancelled the appointment.  Does this still sound ridiculous?  Well it is, but it's amazing how difficult it is to let go of the last little thing, even when it's obvious that there's no point hanging onto it anyway.
Amidst all of this, I knew that I needed to rejoice in the difficult times, be thankful, choose to cling to Jesus rather than freak out... all of that.  I still knew that, difficult as it seemed at the moment, I would rather live this way, God's way for me, than do anything else on earth.


I muddled on through the day (a movie and a game of Scattegories were good distractions) until the evening when the three of us spent time with the Lord together.  I wasn't the only one who was struggling with all this waiting.  As I focussed on the Lord, I told Him that I had let go of everything and wanted to do everything His way, but that I still needed His peace to fill me again.  Slowly, as I spent time in His presence, that wonderful peace that passes all understanding began to fill me.  I'd got that far when we paused to discuss what the Lord was doing.  But I was still lacking the joy, and that was what I asked for as we continued.  He gave it, but my willing spirit and weak flesh were still at odds, so in the spirit I was overflowing with songs of praise and worship, but I still felt a bit depressed and heavy-hearted (not helped by a headache that was building on the right side of my head).  I headed out to the back deck to make a bit of noise.  The rather frigid night air helped clear my head (being inside all day really doesn't help), and the determination to vocalize the songs of praise brought the rest of me into line.  I returned to the lounge some minutes later with a light step, clear eyes, and a smile inside.  The heavy weight somewhere between my heart and my stomach had gone.  My brain had switched back on, and I was in "Bring it on!" mode.  Because I had deliberately chosen to rejoice in trial and cling to Jesus for strength, He gave me His joy along with His peace.


Further discussion showed that all three of us had done the same thing.  When the storm raged around us and despair was the logical next step, we dug deeper into the Rock that is Jesus (yes I know that's an odd metaphor, but somehow it works).  Outwardly, circumstances hadn't changed.  I still had pain all over one side of my head.  We are still penniless.  I still need travel vaccinations and a host of other stuff before I can go to Borneo.  (That departure is scheduled for April 28, but if that's not God's date, He can change that too.)  We are still waiting.  But I know without a shadow of doubt that God has it all under control, that He will do everything in His perfect time, and that He, and only He, will get all the glory.  Hurray!
I wouldn't have it any other way.


So what's God doing in your life?

Who Shows Up in Your Conversation?

It's quite easy to tell who or what occupies most of a person's time and thoughts.  Luke 6:45c, "out of the abundance of his heart his mouth speaks."
The sports enthusiast who can't have a conversation without mentioning rugby.
The car enthusiast who never misses an opportunity to argue about Holden and Ford.
The woman who just has to tell you about her latest shopping bargain.
The young fool who thinks he's a man when he talks about drinking, driving, and women.
The old fool who uses his eyes instead of his mouth to tell you what he's thinking about.
The girl who has just fallen in love and thinks her man is the be-all and end-all, and quotes his opinion at every opportunity.
The person who can't seem to avoid having a dig at their least favourite person, group, or country.
The man who shares a new piece of useless information with you every time you meet.
The aging woman who loves to show off the latest pictures and antics of her grandchildren.
The child who wants to show you her latest toy.
The person who has nothing good to say about life - and says it.
The person who quotes movies you don't remember.
The man who introduces the woman with him as, "This is my wife, ..." and you know the words thrill him.


It's natural to talk about whatever it is you think about, and to speak of the people with whom you spend the most time.  I know I do it a lot.  When I was living with my family, they figured highest in my conversation.  When I left home to go to my first farming job, whenever I went anywhere else I would talk about my job and my employers.  When I moved to the South Island, I couldn't open my mouth in company without mentioning my pastor's family, because that was who I hung out with most.  Now I never go into company without speaking of the people I live with, Shane and Belinda Osgood, at some point in conversation, probably within the first few sentences.  I expect they'll appear frequently in this blog.  The people I used to speak about the most still show up regularly in my conversation, but the ones I spend the most time with now are mentioned frequently.  It's not that some are more favoured than others (they're all my favourites! hehe), merely that they take up the biggest chunk of my life.
You do have to be careful, though.  When you talk about one person more than others, people can get the wrong idea.  (I'll have to be careful when I find the right man...LOL)  Or they can be just plain bored.  But as long as you stop short of boring people, it is a natural process.  So natural, in fact, that you can always tell where a person is at by what or whom they talk about.


I have the privilege of hanging out with people who love to spend time with God.  Frequently the conversation is turned or started with, "God told me..." or "The Holy Spirit showed me..." or "I asked Jesus this morning..."  or "I read in [a passage of Scripture]..."  They are happy to talk about what God is doing in their lives.  Because I want God to be absolute first in my life, these things are a huge encouragement to me.  My favourite ones are, "I had to repent this morning..." and, "What did God say to you?"  The former (and rare) statement assures me that someone I honour and whose example I follow is still very human, maintains humility before God, and is prepared to lead by example. The latter (and frequent) question has been highly effective in motivating me into a deeper relationship with God.  It can be a little disheartening to answer, "God didn't say anything to me today," but it's downright embarrassing to say, "Um, well, I haven't really been listening to Him."  Far better to be able to forestall the question completely by saying, "I had an amazing/interesting/wonderful time with God today...!"


I think I have good reason for talking about these people with others, because it usually goes with talking with others about what God is doing, and there really is no better conversation than a topic that glorifies God.  Further, through it I am learning to ask others, "What's God doing in your life?"  This really enhances Philippians 4:8 where it says, "Whatsoever things are true...honest...just...pure...lovely...of good report, if there be any virtue...praise, think on these things."


My favourite people show up in my conversation because I want other people to be blessed as I have been blessed.  For example, I love my family, and I always wish I could introduce them all to all the other people I meet along life's road.  Part of the reason is because they are a part of me, and have had an effect on who I am.  To know them, is to know me a little better.  Surely God should appear in our conversation for the same reasons!  If we know Jesus as we say we do, shouldn't we want other people to know Him too?  If you don't want others to know Him, perhaps you don't know Him either.  If your ultimate aim is to do and be what God wants you to do and be, then that should come out in your conversation.


I challenge you to take a look at what and who show up in your conversation.  Do your favourite topics motivate you and others into a deeper relationship with Jesus ... or with the world?


Psalm 19:14 "Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer."

Expectancy builds...

Yesterday I was pleasantly tired, lazy, and relaxed, with an occasional current of excitement running up through my stomach.  Today I'm in much the same state, but the current of excitement has become like one of those bouncing screen-savers, except quite a fast one.  Zing!  Zing!  Zing!
When the current becomes the good kind of butterflies...

Card Games with God

Can you imagine trying to play a card game with God?  Even if you do all the shuffling and dealing, He'll still know exactly where every card is.  Being all-knowing and very clever, He can anticipate your every play, and play His own cards in a way that will make you play just the way He wants you to, even if you're entirely unaware of it.  If you let Him take control of the pack from the start, no matter how the game goes, you'll be sure He stacked the deck...!

Today felt like being deep in a card game with God.  I was gearing up to go on a course next week.  God had (seemingly) cleared the way at the beginning of February for me to go to it, and I knew He could provide the funds required - what's three hundred dollars when you're expecting millions?  Last week the course changed to a week earlier, which meant I brought my medical appointment forward and shuffled my Mum's visit.  Cards dealt, shifted around, replayed...  Then this morning while spending time with the Lord, I got the distinct impression that I wasn't to do the course.  Not that it was bad or anything, but that it wasn't what the Lord wanted me to do.

Oh.
My cards fall out of my hand and I spend a few hours picking them up and trying to figure out if I missed something in the game or whether the Lord has just done a neat job of stacking the deck.  Thrown quite off balance, I thought I'd sleep on it.  But the feeling that I was right and needed to do something right away had my stomach in knots.  I considered emailing the lady running the course, but thought phoning was a much better option.  Looking up the phone number on the latest email, I discovered she was already in the area.  Maybe I could speak to her in person!  I texted her, and behold! she would be heading through town within half an hour.  She could drop in.
So she did.
I'm not doing the course.
Sorted beautifully.  I've been rearranged very neatly, and the expectancy is pretty high that the Lord has something specific in mind for next week.  The medical appointment has been rescheduled for next Tuesday.


The extraordinary thing is that when playing card games with God, somehow we both win.


I feel wonderful! :o)

Solving the 'Freak-Out' Moments

My back healed, activity was enabled, and life became interesting again.  Boredom does pass - eventually.  Especially with a game of Bible Trivia.  It was years since I'd played a board game with adults.  That's on my list of things to do more often.  Twice a year would be more often...lol.  Now that seems like an appropriate pastime for a board meeting.  I might suggest it when I get to be in a board meeting... hehehehe.
Amusement aside, it was interesting to discover how a lack of wherewithal really struck home once I was bored, because my primary deflector of boredom is munching.  But that wasn't what instigated Sunday morning's freak-out. Sunday was the 28th of the month, which is exactly a month before my departure.  I began to dwell on the things that needed doing before then, like renewing my passport, applying for a travel visa, getting final travel vaccinations, buying a multitude of items (including a suitable travel bag)... all of which need money that I don't have.  (Please bear in mind that I have come to this point through God's direction, not by accident.  He has promised to provide everything in His way and in His time.)  I have no worries at all about the trip itself, but watching God take prior events to the point where only He can fix them has caused a few freak-out moments.  Having been there before, and not wanting to continue the feeling, I knew I needed to just spend time with God in praise and worship, which I proceeded to do.
I am finding that praising God is the best way into communion with Him.  After spending some time with the Father, Jesus took over and carried me to a high point.  By high point, I mean the top of a very narrow cone-shaped pinnacle that rose at least a hundred feet straight out of a large expanse of sea, and only had room for one pair of feet on top.  There were a few other rock formations nearby, but no other land that I noticed, and the sea was very deep and held the threat of sharks, squid, octopus, and other sea monsters.  Not a nice place to be; not a place I would take myself; a great spot for freaking out.  The sky was a lovely blue, though...!
The important fact here is that Jesus had taken me there, and He was still there with me.  At a time like this there are several options: freak out and freeze up, freak out and try to fall off, go crazy and try to dive off (the likelihood of diving out far enough to miss rock is limited, and survival in monster-infested water while swimming to unseen land is even less likely)...or cling to Jesus and trust Him to hold me.  It was after some thought that I realised the falling/diving options were 'try to' only, because Jesus will hold me regardless of what I do.  That makes most of those options just a waste of energy.
I chose to cling to Jesus.  He kept repeating gently, "Just trust me.  Just trust me."  I looked down and saw that I was standing not on the rock, but on His feet.  His feet were bare, and I could see the scars from His time on the cross.  Clinging tight, with my face buried in His shoulder, I said, "I do trust You, but I'm still freaking out."  But I wasn't quite so freaked out as I had been.
Things were going so well I didn't want to get out of bed to shower and get to church, but I did anyway.  Knowing I still needed to stay in the worship zone, I went to church longing for a really good time of corporate free worship.  It didn't happen.  We worshipped, but it was the "Lord I give myself to You" type, rather than the "Lord, I praise You for being You" type.  Nothing wrong with that, but it wasn't what I was yearning for, what I knew would move me from freaked to relaxed.  Focus entirely off me and completely on God.  I returned home after lunch with the vague intention of spending more time with God, worshipping alone.  Instead I spent the time chatting.  Now I wasn't sure if I was up or down (we came up with the conclusion of 'sideways'), because the chat was really good stuff, but I still had a desire to just spend time worshipping.  I also was debating whether or not to go to our church's first monthly youth service, which was scheduled for 5pm till 6:30pm, followed by a sausage sizzle.  The food was certainly an attraction because it would mean I wouldn't need to be fed at home, but once home I was inclined to stay put and relax.  I decided to go.
It was an interesting evening, but once again my desire was unmet.  It wasn't the sort of service that went into free worship, and while I did actually do that, it wasn't nearly enough, and came to an abrupt halt.  I was glad I went, but still unsettled.  Afterwards, I ate a sausage, drank some orange juice, spoke to a few people, and came home.  Having been thwarted twice, an evening of worship was definitely on my programme, either by myself or with the home company if they would join me.  After discussing the meeting with them, they weren't yet ready to swing into prayer and praise, so I headed for the dining room and the piano by myself.
It's amazing what praise to God does for the soul and spirit, and even for the body.  Some forty-plus minutes later, I was awash with God's peace.  An hour or so on top of that in joint praise and worship found me completely relaxed, more so than I had been for quite a few days.  Hallelujah!
My point is: when you freak out, by far the best thing to do is cling tight to Jesus, and spend time in all-out worship of God.
Another observation: no matter to what heights or depths you go, Jesus is right there too.

When Life Becomes Boring...While Waiting

What do you do when cross-stitch, movies/tv, music, and reading...everything to hand, in fact, holds no interest?  When there's not enough fuel to go driving just for pleasure, nowhere interesting to go on foot, your back is still too sore for a lot of sitting or strenuous activity anyway (even if you could think of anything interesting), there's not enough food for boredom-eating, and no money to fix any of it?  It does help to bump into a sister online for a bit of nonsense chatting; passes the time while lifting the spirits with a few laughs.  But what then?  A blog to spout on also takes up some of the slack time, but that won't hold for long - who wants to read (or write, for that matter) screeds of bored drivel?
How do you pass the time with nothing much to do after you've already been passing the time for some time?
How do you 'redeem the time' when there's a time lag?
How do you sit still and be content when you're itching to get to work on a work that has already been worked out but it's not time yet?
How do you do nothing when you've nothing to do it with?  You could end up wishing you had nothing to do with it...!
What should you do when town living gets to be a bit too much, but the country living isn't due for at least one-plus-eight months?
What do you do when your life's dream is within reach, but your hands are tied - and you chose the tying and gave the release rights into God's hands?
It's the best way, but it does have its extreme moments - of boredom :(  Grrr!  I'm still in love with life, still rearing to go... but still tied up.  Willingly, but not, if you get my meaning.
Ok, I'm done here.  Carpe dium, and all that.

Friendship (2)

It is interesting to observe how friendships come and go.  Some friends I've known casually for years, then something threw or drew us closer together and I suddenly found a friendship where there was for so long merely an acquaintance.  I have friends who to begin with were only 'my sister's friend' when we were children and youths, but time and/or geography have forged a friendship of our own.  Facebook has re-introduced friends from years ago, but in many cases has actually outlined how far apart we can become.  Not that either has taken a bad direction, but merely that there is no commonality to recreate a bond.  It is interesting to see what they're up to, but there is no cause to strike up a conversation.  Some friends have been very close for a short period of time, and number among the oases in the desert of loneliness that used to exist, but our paths have since diverged, and contact is rare.  Perhaps we'll never meet again, but that's okay.  Perhaps we will meet again, and that friendship may begin again, or even take off from where it was left; some friendships do that.  Then again, it might not, but that's okay too.  Friendship is sweet, but turns sour when you cling too tight.
I won't deny that I have a great need for solid friendship - we were, after all, created for companionship - but my early friendships were filled with my need for them, my wish that they would like me best, that they would fulfill my need...entirely selfish, which is why I had to learn to be a friend, as well as learn to find my fulfillment and completion in my Lord Jesus Christ.
Some friendships aren't really friendships at all.  There is no bond.  They are simply the result of two people (sometimes with practically nothing in common) being thrown together for a while by circumstances and responding amicably.  They may be the best option for companionship at that time.  Once the circumstances change, the ways part and little more is thought of it.
I find the most amazing friendships are the ones that spring up suddenly out of nowhere.  Within days of meeting a person properly for the first time, a bond is created, and within only weeks you wonder what life was like without it.  This has happened to me more than once, and I find it wonderfully astonishing.
And then there are the friendships that go deep, but one side grows and matures faster than the other, or only one gets married and into all that entails, and the common ground is lost - or perhaps more accurately, the one left behind can't quite find the right communication channel.  Somehow that bond remains, the friendship is still cherished, occasional meetings are warm though brief.  Until the one who was left behind catches up...or finds the right wavelength.
My favourite quote about friendship is: "Friends are those people who walk into our life and find a home in our heart."

Friendship

Frequently I ponder the ways and intricacies of friendship.  I've been doing so again today.  It amazes me the depths of feeling I can plunge to when considering friends.  Having had large expanses of loneliness in the last twenty years, the oases of friendship stand out clearly in my mind.
I recall being asked when I was seventeen what I had learned during the lonely times.  My answer was that I had learned to be a friend.  That was only partly true.  I knew that what I should have been doing during those times was turning to the Lord for companionship, and getting closer to Him.  I wanted that, but I was too focussed on escaping from my loneliness, using books, movies, and music as the means.  I was running and hiding from the heartache instead of running to the answer.  Most of the time I was quite happy, thoroughly enjoying my own company, but there would come days when I would be severely lonely, the lack of companionship increasingly unbearable, and the older I grew, the worse the bouts of loneliness became.  It was during those times that I most struggled with the increasing number of friends and acquaintances finding life-partners.  It took three separate stages over a dozen or so years for me to learn the lesson; that is, to seek comfort and companionship in the Lord first.  By the third round, I could see what was happening, and went into it with the sole intention of learning to do just that.  I didn't want to keep repeating the lesson for umpteen years!  And we were successful.  By 'we' I mean the Lord and I.  I can't make a friendship by myself (of course!), and He met me more than halfway.
That's not to say that I hadn't sought Him before, nor that it was easy, nor that I haven't had friends.  I have lots of good friends - in fact, when I stop to think about the number of close friends I have, I am amazed, both at the number and at the quality of friendship!  And I have sought my Lord.  Looking back over the years shows clearly the way He has drawn me steadily closer as I have cried out to Him.  But the point is that I needed to make Him always the first one I turn to, my first resource, my constant companion, my all in all, my everything!  Human friendships, no matter how strong and deep, can and do fail.  But when the heart is resting in the care of the Friend above all friends, it becomes a pleasure and an adventure to dive into friendships with others, and learn to truly be a friend, while drawing on the marvelous blessing of friendship given in return.  There is risk in opening up my heart and giving of myself to another, and friends should be chosen carefully, but if my closest friend is Jesus, then the fear of loneliness does not exist.  I begin to find that there is bountiful blessing in letting pure feelings go deep into my heart without expecting anything in return.  Loving because I choose to, and drawing on the love overflowing from my relationship with my Lord as the source for the others.
I am soon to be tested in this.  Having learned the lesson, God promptly provided me with a companionship that has become constant in a double friendship that goes very deep indeed.  A friendship that has promise of long endurance.  (And no, it's not a boyfriend! Lol.)  But I am soon to leave that constant companionship for a period of time.  The questions I ask my heart are: Will I maintain and increase the Heavenly relationship to the same degree without the helpful influence of the earthly relationships?  Will I be able to put everything I have into the life I'll be leading over there for eight months without being distracted by missing people back home (which is a complication I've never had before - I don't usually miss people)?  Can I do that  and still maintain the depth of relationship, or will I need to put that part of me on hold?  I already have most of the answer, though.  Knowing the resilience of my heart, my flexibility, and what I have learned of friendship, I'll adjust admirably, make more good friendships in the new place, and then have the joy of the return home, having grown in soul and spirit while away.  Even more so because friends at home will be praying for me.  How I thank God for friends!