This is not the hardest thing I have ever done.

This post was written and shared elsewhere in May 2023. I thought I'd add it here.

THIS IS NOT THE HARDEST THING I HAVE EVER DONE - a birthday blog post by me 😉

Most people know my life has been pretty intense. 

One day this week I was on my knees (as every parent of high needs kids does) asking God why why why did you give me these children? 

And then I knew these kids are the big mission. 

When I went though the fire I knew I was being refined and strengthened for something big. 

I never knew what but surely it was some sort of ministry?

And suddenly I realise it’s parenting and homeschooling my children. 

I hear parents of neurodivergent kids say, “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” 

(And it is so SO hard. IYKYK.)

But I’ve been thinking about that this week because this is by far NOT the hardest thing I have ever done. 

And because of that, I am okay. I’m not okay - there are meltdowns and tears and anxiety and guilt and exhaustion and a million questions. (And honestly this week I was ready to throw in the towel and send some little people to school.) But I’m okay. 

Because God went before me. I went through the refining fire. 

I totally believe we come to this earth to learn and grow. And this is my training ground. I was meant to do this. There are no mistakes. 

Yesterday we opened the mail and there were our official homeschool registration certificates and cards for another year.

I’ve been in awe recently of how God went before me in homeschooling specifically.

When he put homeschooling on my heart before I even had kids, I had no idea we would be using the terms “ADHD”, “Autistic” and “Dyslexia” in our home. Yet he guided me to all the right resources, curriculums and ways of doing things before I had any idea what I was dealing with. Truly it’s been amazing to realise.

He goes before me. 

So my feeling is that even though there are a lot of bad and good feelings, it all just FEELS right. As a whole life unfolding thing.

Something about this season makes me feel alive. 

As I celebrate my 38th birthday today I’m feeling it.

We do say there’s no better place than on your knees totally dependent on God.

I guess I’m there in weak strength and expectation. 

And I am incredibly thankful for my amazing children. And husband. And that through them the past year I have learned who I am. But that’s another story. 

💖🌈🔥

The Story of Owen

April 10th, 2022

Today is your 2nd birthday and I have decided it is time to share your story.

Even when Liam was still a little baby I had a longing for another baby. It felt like there was someone missing from our family. When Liam was 17 months old and Micah was getting closer to 4 years old, I was ready to get pregnant again. I heard God say “July”. We tried in May and June but I always had July in mind. On July 1st I went to the doctor because I had symptoms of an infection in my uterus. I started antibiotics. Still with symptoms, I took a second course of antibiotics. It seemed crazy to get pregnant while taking antibiotics for an infection but I tried and that month you came to live with us ❤️.

I knew I was pregnant before I even tested. I was soooo excited and happy when I got a positive test. I was very sick in bed for a couple of months while you grew. The 24/7 nausea was almost unbearable. One day I was at the beach and I looked up toward the sky and heard God say “Owen”. I wrote it in the sand. I was 14 weeks pregnant that day.

I wrestled over the idea of having a third baby boy. One day God said to me very clearly about it, “I know the plans I have for you, not you know the plans you have for me.” It was firm but I could take it.

I didn’t want a morphology scan for you. But I felt that I needed to know your gender for sure because I’d spent 36 weeks completely convinced Liam was a girl. I decided to have a short scan (5-10 minutes?) just to make sure you seemed okay overall and chose the free hospital one. I came out of that scan in tears. The lady was awful to us and argumentative because we wanted a short scan. She had a 1 second glance at whether you were a boy or girl, handed us a slip of paper with the answer on it and said with attitude, 

“Well I can’t be totally sure because it was so quick”. 🙄 

I didn’t trust the answer so I chose not to find out what she wrote. Your Daddy knew what was on there and managed to keep it from me until you were born! I was keeping my mind very open to you being a boy or girl.

I had my midwife changed a few times over the pregnancy which was super unsettling! Would the new one be good?! Otherwise everything went so smoothly. Being an experienced third time mum, I had begun the pregnancy by lying to the doctor about my dates to give me an extra day before they pushed induction 🙈. Your official due date was April 1st.

Micah had been a home birth transferred to hospital and emergency assisted delivery. Liam had been an induction in hospital where they didn’t realise I was in fast labour until it all turned dramatic. Both had been traumatic in their own ways. I remember being afraid to birth you at the hospital but that was the only option I was allowed.

We made it to 41 weeks pregnant and like your brothers, you were sitting posterior (with all your limbs poking out of my front). I felt like you were lower and more ready to come out than the other two though. I was booked in for induction on April 10th but I didn’t actually intend to do it because I felt like you were going to come out on your own! (Micah got stuck at 41+6 weeks so I did want you out ASAP.)

I had an osteopath appointment scheduled for 4:00pm on April 9th. At that appointment she agreed that I was REALLY close to labour. She set my body and mind up for your birth and at 9:30pm that night I lost some mucous plug and started having labour contractions.

I laboured in my bed for a few hours while your brothers slept in the room (we all shared a room at that point). Your Daddy was rushing around downstairs preparing things for us to leave. I would lie down in the quiet between contractions. I had to jump up for the contractions because you were posterior so they were all back pain.

At 1am we called the hospital and they said to come in. I worked out I could lie down to space out the contractions though and when I asked God, he said “3am”. We called our friend to come and watch your brothers while we went to hospital. I’d never had to choose when to go into hospital before and Liam’s birth had only been 2 hours long! I had to trust the timing. I knew Liam would wake and I wanted to be there with him to say goodbye. At 3am Liam woke as usual and had his snack, we said bye to him and left him with our friend. It was perfect.

We drove down the highway and thank God it was ghost town because it was the middle of the night. We stopped on the side of the road for every contraction (every few minutes) so I could get up to cope with the back pain.

You were born during Covid lockdowns so your Daddy needed a permission slip to get back into the hospital after he moved the car! At the pregnancy assessment centre they said I was clearly in labour and didn’t need a check 🥳. I never was asked for a cervical check the whole birth which I was so happy about because of my past infections.

I was told I had to go to the delivery room because I’d had a baby with shoulder dystocia (Micah). No one had ever told me this! I’d been told I would have a normal birthing suite. I rolled with it though. Unlike Liam’s birth I got to go to the room early and calmly. I had a shower which I remember felt like an amazing experience that I’d never had in labour before!

I got dressed and continued with contractions with a heat pack and your Daddy pressing on my back for every contraction. My midwife arrived at 4:15am. I remember the moment of relief that we were all there in the birthing room together and everything was sorted 😍. It was the best. I got to stand on a soft mat and sit on a fitball between contractions. I declined any offer of pain relief. I had done this two times before with none. I knew it would be intense but fine. When the contractions started to get too intense in my back my water broke and the midwife told me to get up on the bed because, “This baby is going to come fast!”

The next part was as fast as Liam’s birth but it was so different. In Liam’s birth I’d been forced by a random midwife to lie on my back and push as soon as I was 10cm dilated. With you I got to stay up on my knees and feel the contractions forcing you down. The pressure was SO SO strong, you can’t imagine it unless you’ve been there. Liam had turned during labour but you were totally posterior and I felt like I was going to split in two with the pressure! I was scared because I’d never birthed like this before. It was so unknown.

My midwife was amazing. I hate being touched during labour and she was kind and gentle, again unlike Liam’s birth.

Your head was right there visible and they were trying to avoid intervention but it was not going to get through without tearing. I was asked to turn onto my back for a third episiotomy and instead of being disappointed I was actually relieved 😅. I knew how to do this! Instead of feeling forced like Liam’s delivery, birthing you felt natural. Your head came out and you were wriggling face up with big lips! The staff realised why your head was so hard to birth! With the next contraction you were guided out and handed to me. It’s funny because on the video there was no time between you coming out and me saying, “It’s a boy! I knew it was a boy the whole time 😆.” But for me time stood still and it felt like ages between those two moments!

You were born at 5:10am on Friday April 10th. It was Good Friday!

You were super pink and healthy and big!

Four minutes after you were born, Daddy cut your cord. You lay on my chest while I birthed your placenta. They had only given me the weaker (and less sickening) oxytocin drug! 👏🏻

I got the smoothest most intervention free birth possible. I am thrilled. It was so healing.

It really struck me later on how at my most vulnerable and raw I was told how amazing and strong I was by my midwife and other staff. I always put so much effort into how I come across to people but when I couldn’t put on a face I was admired. That was so healing too.

You were 4.36 kilos. My smallest baby 🤣.

We spent 5 hours at the hospital doing all the usual post birth check ups/tests/paperwork and then we put you in the car and drove home. Your brothers were so excited to meet you!

The next day we named you “Owen Matthew”. The name Matthew came to me after you were born. I remember thinking it would be cool if a card could confirm it like one did for Liam’s middle name. Your Daddy had put a card from friends in my bedroom and as I looked at it over there, I sensed God saying the confirmation was in it! I opened the card and there was a bible verse from Matthew! 🤯

Yours and Liam’s first names both mean warrior. I thought that was really cool.

You are amazing and we love you so much and you’ve been so perfect for our family!

Disappointed in me

I had been fighting a little mastitis for a few days. It kept getting better and then worse again. After working hard at it in the early (very early!) hours of the morning, I lay down with a cabbage leaf and an ice pack and listened to God. 

My discernment lately has been awful. God has been very quiet. I just needed God to help me.

Something random came to me. 

“Can you pray for me?” I asked my husband who was half asleep. “God just said I have a wrong image of him.”

“What’s the wrong image?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think God’s disappointed in you?”

Yes. 😭 I cried and cried.

Did God tell you that?

“I saw a strong image of a disappointed face.” 

He later told me he also heard the word “disappointed” and had the sense it was false. 

“God says he’s well pleased with you.”

I grew up in a family where behaviour and performance was prioritised over heart/intention. 

As the tears rolled I noticed a part of me that doesn’t feel seen. 

And I wasn’t just in tears for how God or people see me. I am so disappointed in me. I’ve not reached the bar I set. I’ve failed my standards miserably. 

“Can you forgive yourself?”

Can I forgive myself? ...but I’m not meeting my standards at all 😩

Then I was imagining this race. 

If someone’s struggling through a muddy pit and the other racer is running up a grassy hill, who’s going to perform better/win? If both are trying and trusting God then they’re both winning in God’s eyes. 

Stop looking at where people are at. I’m saying that to myself as much as to you!

I recently read a near death experience where God said we get ‘good and bad’ wrong. He said forward motion is good. As long as there’s forward motion, even if we’re in a mess. And he said that what is bad is giving up and not moving. Sitting back in a chair and quitting to avoid pain is ‘bad’.

Apparently mistakes are good. Trying and falling is good. Flailing in the mud is good. Struggling up a cliff and slipping back down is good. They’re all forward motion. 

I’ve been hurt by people standing over me this year who looked at my actions and words but didn’t check in with my heart. 

People tend to judge people’s hearts off their behaviour. I am relieved that God knows my genuine heart attitudes. 

As someone who’s often running through slippery mud, I just saw myself with more kindness and grace. My intentions are good. I might not be high achieving right now (read ministering on stage and glowing in the light of the Holy Spirit) or meeting my ‘good girl’ standards, but I am fighting my own battles and pressing forward through my own stuff. 

A new way to see things. 

“Yes, I can forgive myself,” I told my husband. 

This year I have heard a lot of emphasis on DOING in church teachings. Even to the extreme of if we don’t “do” certain things we are “failing”. 

NO. Just no. That is not the heart of God coming through to his people. I’ve had enough of hearing hurting people being pushed. 

If God is well pleased with me then I bet he is well pleased with you. 

I’m just as good as the person doing all the things. You’re just as good as the person doing all the things (whatever things you think you/other people should be doing). 

We’re all ‘enough’ on this learning journey we’ve been placed in. 

Forward motion. Even if it’s falling forward. Keep going! 

God hold people’s hearts in yours and give them the strength they need. 💖

Another house 😅

My husband snuck over to me while my son was on the phone to Grandma:

“Let me just tell you about this while Micah’s outside... there’s a house that’s come up... just ask God if I should show it to you?” (I hadn’t looked at any house listings for weeks.)

“I feel fine about it... yes show it to me.” 

It didn’t scream at me, “I am your house!” But it wasn’t bad... it ticked a lot of boxes! 

“Wow, let’s look at it.” 

“I’ve already booked in an inspection.” 

“How many days have you known about this?!”

“Two days... I wasn’t sure when to tell you about it, I didn’t want to ruin your week.”

I wish he’d only given me 24 hours notice because yes, I lost my mind 😅.

I thoroughly checked that the house could work for us. It made so much sense for our family. It was 450 metres from our church. My husband could walk to work and leave me with the car - a total game changer. It was borderline too small in the living areas to fit a grand piano and didn’t have a fourth bedroom to use as an office... but it had the bath of my dreams in the ensuite, a fenced yard, a cubby... it ticked nearly every box on our 30 item list of requirements 🙈.

But the kitchen was PURPLE. Like seriously, purple cupboards. Everywhere. 

Every time I thought about the house I could only think about purple. It’s a bit of a running joke that I hate purple. 

“I’m never going to let God off the hook if he gives me a house with a purple kitchen 🤣.”

Seriously though.

I asked God to confirm the house. He didn’t. 

We asked God to make it clear at the inspection if the house was the right one. As soon as I walked onto the property I had a strong wrong feeling. Unmistakably strong. It pressed on me the entire time I was there. By the time I walked into the garden I was saying, “This isn’t the right house. It feels so wrong.” But it was an even better house than we expected. 

Afterwards I fed Owen in the car while my husband walked up the street with our other two boys. There was a walking track straight into a lovely reserve and then a playground. The area this house was in was a dream. 

I sat in the car wishing God would speak to me. 

I had been trying to learn from last time and go with my sense of peace. I had felt peace about looking at the house. I had not had peace about not looking through it. There had been no screaming demons this time telling me to glorify it and promising it to me which made it seem more of a possibility?

I drove over to the playground and by then I had convinced myself this really could be the one. Maybe the negative feeling I’d had was trying to scare me off? Maybe it wasn’t God?? Did it feel like Him?? How could this be wrong? It all seemed so right. We had to apply. We would be settling a little but could we really have the house of our dreams? Didn’t we need to be realistic? Surely this could be the one. I felt wrong about not applying. 

We applied for the house. 

At some point (I wish I could remember when) I questioned God and he said to me, “I showed you this house to practice your discernment.” I also thought he said it was pretending to be the right house. It had a lot of carrots. 

I kept coming back to those words and thinking it couldn’t be God’s plan, and then checking my logic and sense of peace about my actions and thinking maybe this house was a good plan... 

Seven days after we applied they listed more inspection times. We had still heard nothing. Surely they hadn’t liked us and we weren’t going to get it! I was so angry. I hated the world and wanted to be alone. I took the kids to gym. I sat there and wrote a list of the reasons why the house was bad, and why it probably wasn’t right for us. Then I wrote the reasons it could be right. It didn’t work. I wanted it more after I wrote the list 😩.

Reading over the list it looked much more convincing in the top end though. That was where God actually spoke. 

That afternoon my osteopath said to me, “Your body feels like it needs a rest.” Wow I felt that deeply, on so many levels.

That night something shifted. I had wrestled myself through to mostly let the house go. What really finished it for me was that I had never been able to pray for us to get it - I couldn’t claim it for us in the spirit. I just couldn’t! 

I often notice God wrangle my heart around before I find out something for sure.

The next afternoon a message flashed onto my phone that our application had been unsuccessful. I felt relieved. My heart set itself onto the hope of an even better house. Is that wishful thinking? I don’t know.

I woke the day after that and worked myself into a good headspace. I had been focusing for a couple of days on the promises and prophecies spoken over us for years and the words God had given me for each year... 2018 ‘promises’, 2019 ‘restoration’, 2020 ‘release’, 2021 ‘action’ and ‘satisfy’... he had always come through so amazingly with those words. ‘Satisfy’ is a promise I want to stand on and claim.

I walked downstairs into what I’ll call “way too many hungry people”. I was triggered and I lost all my positive. Everything was a total physical mess, I literally wanted to quit homeschooling forever because I was failing at it, my kids were being traumatised for life. 😅

I had a strong urge to destroy something. The least destructive option was to add to the physical mess so I stormed upstairs to unleash my rage but I stopped myself. 

I chose to feel the agonising emotional pain instead. (New choice, new progress, but not fun.) Among other dramas, our “new house” was about getting away from the struggle in this house and having a better life. Now we weren’t leaving. 

I quickly dressed, grabbed the keys and I drove away. 

I drove to the house we didn’t get and parked outside. It felt so wrong now. I was glad it wasn’t for us but I still had tears.

“What are you going to say now God?!” I asked out loud.

“All the heavens declare the Glory of God.” I heard that clearly. 

Really? You’re going to focus on your glory? 

And then I felt his physical presence sort of reach in and pull down my heart and I saw how self important I was being and self centred. I saw all of it. And he pulled down my pride in an instant. 

In that beautiful space of humility I drove a little further and parked under some pretty trees. I shut my eyes and felt the deepest rest. In that space of not striving to be anything or fix anything where I knew God was going to do his thing and I just had to follow his leading. 

Proving myself, pushing for the life I wanted, trying to make things work in home and family that were falling apart... Striving to be positive, striving to prove I wasn’t just a negative mess... All those things were exhausting.

I was struck by the health of this feeling. It wasn’t humility like that of a worm bowing down to a powerful being. It wasn’t yucky in the slightest. It was a peaceful humble place of surrendering my own agenda and my effort to get there. It was such a healing humility.

That was the rest my heart so badly needed 💖

This house God?!

I’ve been feeling pressed (gently) to go back to writing. I’ve been a lot more insular and private over the last few years. That’s a nice safe place to be but I sense it’s time to move into a new space... not totally new because I’m actually returning to things I did before.

Let’s just be blunt. This is super vulnerable. It can feel really icky. Afterwards it makes me want to hide under the covers and pretend I didn’t share anything. But it also feels like my calling. And in the end it’s not about my comfort (I probably won’t agree with that in a few days 😅.)

I do have many stories to share.

This post is about hearing God. It’s taken YEARS to learn to hear God’s will more clearly and I still mess it up 😖. We were going to apply for a rental last week. But we didn’t. And what changed our mind was some outside prayer and me rehashing some past memories of hearing God wrong. 

I knew to look for the peace. 

I’d even said earlier that day, “I just haven’t had ANY peace about this all week.” 

God’s will brings peace.

——————————-

My husband forwarded me a link, “Check this one out!” I turned my attention to my “discernment/gut/God” as I opened it and saw the red brick house, lit by sunlight, not too high a price and in an amazing location. I’ve always wanted to live near the beach! Is this good for us God? A rush of excitement went through my middle as I felt a positive feeling like maybe it was the one. I scrolled the photos and it seemed even more likely! 

The house had jumped out at both my husband and I. He said he didn’t know why it had jumped out at him. I really liked it. Maybe it jumped out because it was the house for us? We requested an inspection. We waited.

One day I had a very strong sensation that I’m going to find hard to describe. It is so strong it’s almost physical? And is unshakable for many seconds. It comes from outside myself and presses inward with screaming intensity of the house being for us, as if we will be rewarded with it. But it is a glorification. I knew that feeling. I felt it about a house we applied for in the past. It was not God. 

I wanted it to be God.

I hardly looked at the house photos for days. I tried to keep it out of my mind to avoid disappointment. I hesitated in telling anyone about it. I was frustrated when my husband told someone. I like to do these things quietly! 

God’s will doesn’t press you to keep it a secret. 

Finally an inspection was looming and I fell down the hole of analysis hard. I spent hours pouring over the photos of the rooms, figuring out the layout of the house. Something in me told me to stop but I kept going. I placed everything in our current home into those rooms in my imagination. We discussed it all. We made decisions. I wrote a list of the things we wanted in a house. I wrote a list of pros and cons for this house to try to decide because I couldn’t decide... I was still super anxious, overwhelmed and in a spin. 

God’s will doesn’t bring total confusion. 

Our conversations were decorated with “if we move house next month” and “when we have two living areas” etc. Our current house felt so wrong and frustrating. But the timing was awful. How could we move right now?

I wanted a clearer answer from God. Should we look? Is this right? I couldn’t lose my stress and restlessness. But as much as I’d tried to, I’d never looked at the photos and heard/felt a no. 

We did a drive by. There was a rainbow right above the house. I took a photo. When I looked at the rainbow I sensed in the spirit that God had a great house for us somewhere. He had a plan.

I wanted the rainbow to mean THIS house was for us. (Not that I think every rainbow is a sign from God! Let’s be realistic here 😅.)

I said to my husband one day, “Let’s just forget about it and not go to the inspection.” I felt peace about not going to the inspection. But I wanted to go to the inspection. I couldn’t get that rainbow out of my mind. 

“I just want to decide we’re not going to look ‘cause I want this to all be over.”

He wanted to look (he’s an options open kind of guy 😉). I couldn’t decide if I was being tricked into thinking it was the house for us or tricked into not looking because it was the house for us! Confused. Exhausted. Anxious. Hopeful. Longing. 

Every day I surrendered it up in prayer.

The inspection was squished between our kids’ gym classes and my appointment in town. I was so stressed all morning about looking through that house. As we drove toward it one of us asked,

“Why are we both so stressed?!”

God’s will brings peace. 

Finally we would look and it would be over! The agents arrived casually. One of them put the key in the lock. It was the wrong key.

“We could just look around outside?”

“Okay...”

“Oh the gate is padlocked. We’ll have to come back later...”

We rushed off to our appointment and made it just in time. 

“Wow, we wouldn’t have had time to go through the house properly! Good thing they messed up with the key.”

We waited longer...

Finally we went through the house. We wanted it to be clearly bad or clearly great. We prayed for it to be clearly bad or clearly great! It was neither. It ticked so many boxes. It didn’t tick all of the boxes. It didn’t FEEL right inside. But it ticked so many boxes! 

We would be giving up a few things but gaining some amazing things. Were we being perfectionists? Were we settling? Why did it feel wrong when we went inside? Where would I put my homeschool shelves?!

We decided to apply and then decide.

Financially it was an awful time to do this. Schedule-wise it was an awful time to do this. We weren’t even sure we could break our lease so many months in advance. 

(Just saying - this doesn’t sound like God’s timing 😅.)

I put a call out for prayer. (Note to self: do this earlier.) I wanted God to have his way no matter what.

That night we lay in a bed together and talked. It was like our discernment finally switched on. 

“It just doesn’t... feel right.”

“It doesn’t feel right to me either. Do you have peace about not applying?”

“Yeah. I do.”

And that was it. I went to bed and slept well for the first time in ages. I felt like I’d come out of a nightmare. The peace!! There was SO much peace to my core. Everything had clarity and I felt urged to the things of God.

The next day my husband looked up real estate reviews and the agency for that house had one star reviews. We would have been in big trouble. 

I stopped thinking about the house. It was strangely flushed from my mind once I knew it was wrong. 

In retrospect it’s obvious. Sometimes my discernment had said it was right and other times i had felt it was wrong. I was hearing conflicting voices in the spiritual world as I often do. I was being taken for a ride.

It reminded me of being pregnant with my second son and the wrestle over hearing and wanting him to be a girl. The confusion, the desperation, the anxiety, the secrets.

Since the house drama I’ve been discerning differently. I’ve been looking internally. Does this feel right? Do I have peace inside? Yes. Then I’ll do it in faith. No? Then it’s probably not God.

Can there be anxiety in doing God’s will? Absolutely! I’m an enneagram six 😂. But there is an inner peace that I won’t describe but when you’ve experienced it enough times you know how to look for it. And your discernment sharpens to know when you’ve lost it.

Did I mention I was devastated by the thought of leaving our lovely home and moving into that other house? Yet we were going to apply for it?! Thank God for his protection. 

I can’t wait to see what he has for us 🌈.

If you’re new here, have a read of some older posts!  I’ve been really enjoying them 😆. 

Cubby Houses

My friend gave me another writing topic. I've been reluctant to share what came out because my words hit on some things I'd just rather not put out there.

But.

A couple of weeks ago I watched a TED talk on vulnerability and courage. The speaker was rather transparent about personal struggles and then asked the audience if they feel weak when they make themselves vulnerable.

Now I'll ask you, do you feel weak when you admit you've been anxious, depressed, jealous, overwhelmed? When you confess getting caught up in pornography, over-eating, rage, drug problems, pride and power, etc.? Do you feel weak or strong?

Many people raised their hands to that feeling of weakness.

Then the speaker spun the question - I just shared my issues with you and was super vulnerable - do you think doing that was weak or strong?

Strong.

I realised when people get up and speak, or write on a blog or confess in a small group, they don't seem weak at all. They seem powerful, courageous and strong. They are beating down shame and stepping out in a brave way to expose their weakness.

I am strong when I expose mine.

You are strong when you expose yours.

Then yesterday I was watching a TV show I've become slightly addicted to called Backstage and one of the characters said "Sometimes being honest about our weaknesses is when we're being the strongest."

Bam. There it was again. Vulnerability is strong.

So.

Now I am going to bow to the lesson and share this writing.


Write about cubby houses and how they represent an imitation of life.

When I was a little girl one of my favourite books was about another little girl who made a cubby house inside a big bush. She set out chairs and food and had a friend over for a tea party under the branches. The draw card of that story and its sweet illustrations was that I desperately wanted a bush cubby of my own. I actually tried to have one but our bush was the wrong shape and my cubby didn't really fit anyone or anything the way it needed to.

I had two real cubby houses in my back garden, one tiny and another full size, decked out with a vinyl floor, butter yellow walls, a little stove, fridge, table, chairs and all the things needed to cook, clean and pretend to be grown up.

A cubby house is where you can pretend to live real life when you're not old enough to actually do real life. Kids are super attracted to that stuff.

My great joy in my cubby was in everything being in place. The blissful feeling of pots, pans, cutlery, food being tidy, organised, in its correct location. I was awful at keeping it there but every once in a while my mum would declare a cubby house clean up and we would make it beautiful again.

The bush cubby - I'm not sure what part of it was so attractive. It was many things to me. A special secret hide out, a one on one meeting with a friend, a little room fitting so neatly inside a tree, an area laid out so beautifully, a time to have tea and sugar away from adult eyes. The pictures in the story brought me such pleasure and I so longed to be a part of it.

None of these desires, joys, goals, have really changed. I'm not imitating life anymore, I'm living it for real, and still it looks the same. I can't keep a clean house but I long for one and find joy in the moments of organisation and order. I love to hide away alone and escape the world. I want more connection with nature. I long for that one on one company, for that friend to say yes, I will come and have tea with you in the beautiful, private little space you have created for us.

Our hearts don't really change as we grow up and they don't really lose their longing. I'm still dreaming of things I probably can't have, like a perfectly ordered house or a picture perfect relationship in a special peaceful place. I likely can't ever have them, yet I never stop hoping and I can't stop trying to bring them to fruition. Life is frustrating when you are always chasing and never seeing results.

What does God say?

He says he sweeps up the mess with a dustpan and brush. He puts things in order. I need to surrender the job to him.

He says he wants to meet in that secret place, one on one with rustling leaves around.

My hiding place, my safe refuge, my treasure Lord, You are.

God puts the longings in our hearts that never die out. He plants hope. Surely he has a way to bring fulfilment to them.