Showing posts with label grace. Show all posts
The Challenge of Church
This morning it felt like I was awake before the rest of the world. And as God and I were together, he reminded me that I wanted to write this post. Reminded me I had a story to tell. A journey to share. And all day he's been reminding me to write.
But now I sit here, mulling over how to write this post. It's not really that easy, when it comes to putting it all down. Partly because it's a long journey with many highs and many valleys. Partly because I know some of you folks reading this blog. I don't wish to offend you, and yet the reality is, some of what I write may very well offend you. So let me tie in with the Olympics and say, this is my lane. My race. It in no way means that there is a fault in your journey. Or that my journey should look like yours. Simply, we're each in our own lanes.
But it is my story.
My journey.
Let's start there. The beginning of my story, my journey. For unless you know where I'm coming from, you may not fully understand why I am where I am.
I have been in many, many different churches since I became a Christian 18 years ago. As a zealous teenager (whose parents attended an Anglican church for Christmas and Easter), I attended youth groups run by a variety of churches, went on camps run by the S.U. and individual churches, and thrived under the patient teaching of the pastors and folks whose passion it was to love and teach young people.
Church was the norm. Braveheart and I even met after an evening church service when we were both in our teens, and when he left to study at the Natal Technikon, he became involved with a dynamic church there that God used to open his eyes (and then mine) to the possibilities in Christ. When I started studying at Rhodes University two years later, I remember trying out all the churches that were the most popular, looking for one like the one Braveheart had found, and praying that God would show me the one I should call home for the next four years.
After 7 months of searching and not quite feeling at home, I was close to giving up. One Sunday, I told God I would walk around Grahamstown until I found a church he wanted me at. I walked. A long way. And EVENTUALLY, right on the other side of Grahamstown (bear in mind I had no car!), I came across this tiny wee Full Gospel Church. And as I passed the doors I knew this was where God wanted me - which was surprising as it was a lot more traditional than churches I had been used to being a part of AND at that time, not one other Rhodes University student was part of the congregation!
Well, I stayed, and it was the richest few years of my life. It was an elderly congregation, with a few young families, and they quickly became like a family to me, exactly what I needed being so far from home. God clearly showed me in the first few months what he wanted of me there, and I'm sad to say, I acted like Moses and refused to do it alone. So he gave me an Aaron, and I learnt a hard lesson about saying no to God because of my own fear. Together we led the Young Adults and Youth, and it was so richly rewarding.
Braveheart finished studying before me and travelled with a church group to Malawi, as well as travelling overseas, and then when I returned to Zim, we wed and started attending a new church run by a familiar pastoral couple. Braveheart had been a part of it for a while before I returned home, and led the praise and worship team. It was then that I started asking God a lot of questions, as did many of the folk around us. And if I were to pinpoint a time, I would say it was then, that I was growing steadily disillusioned with church... dissatisfied...discontent. Why was every service the same? Why did so few people have anything to really share? How come people didn't shout out the good things God was doing? Why was every sermon seemingly based on how to be a perfect Christian? If I was an atheist who walked into this service, would my heart be blown away by the truth and tangible presence of God?
God then began a period in our lives where he stripped down every conceivable idol there was, whether we realized it or not. Family members whom we had placed on an unhealthy pedestal were humbled and God shined his light so clearly in how unhealthily we had worshiped mere people instead of him. Whilst in South Korea, God used our experiences there (the worst yet most life changing year for both Braveheart and I) to tear down an idol we had made of another couple close to us who walked with God in an amazing way. And furthermore, we were forced out of church by the very nature of there being no English speaking churches near us. And this was before we even owned a computer or had ready access to the Internet - how different it would be now if we were to go back! (I'm remembering even now how much I searched for an English speaking church to be in whilst we were there - believe me, I tried! Paul Yong YCho? I even went to his church!)
The third time God did it (removed idols from our life), was after we moved to Cape Town. We had chosen to live in a certain area to be close to a church. It was during our time there, that God stripped down the last idol we had between us and Him... worshiping a church instead of Him, relying on folk to feed us instead of Him, looking to elders to guide us instead of Him. For a long time, in spite of our experiences in church, we had placed this one group of churches above all others. We believed with all out hearts that they were doing exactly what God had called churches to do, and to some extent that they were "perfect".
Without needing to go into too much detail, our relationship with them was wrenched apart after we chose to be vulnerable and admit openly and honestly how imperfect we really were, and that we were in need of help. The message we were left with was to "shape up or ship out" - my own words. That was the final blow in my walk with churches. It was devastating to Braveheart and I, and sent us both reeling. Although to some degree I can understand an eldership's need to "protect" their flock, I cannot understand the judgement and lack of grace that was displayed to us.
And so life continued. We'd spent two years trying to make friends in this church and we were asked to sever contact with the folk in the church. We ended up going back to Korea, and I knew we needed time to heal. When we returned, we moved to another suburb, where many other Zimbabwean families had already moved and we tried a number of churches...but still the questions kept cropping up, and my disillusionment grew.
I believe in Church. I do. I see it throughout Scripture. I see how God wanted his people bound together at the heart level. Church in Scripture is beautiful.
But what I see in today's reality makes me want to weep.
I will not believe that what I see today on Sundays is the way God wants his church to be. I can not let my spirit settle for that. I long for something more.
This is what God is doing in out lives. He is calling Braveheart and I, challenging us, to find the other. He's done that with the way in which He wants us to school our kids. He does that in the way Braveheart manages our finances. And He's done it to the way we fellowship and the way we see church. It's only today that I see God started us on this quest for something different, some road less travelled so long ago, even before we started the schooling journey.
Why does Church sadden me? Because it's become a well oiled machine, institutions and organisations with managers, not organic bodies following the Spirit. I'm saddened by how prescriptive churches have become, and how little of the GRACE of God and who He is and His personality and character is preached. I firmly, and I mean so firmly that I hold to it unwaveringly, believe, that if those that preach would dare to preach only God's love and the radical message of grace, all else would come without any effort. ( Let me give you an example: I am pained to hear folk preaching on praise and worship and how one should raise one's hands, spin around, lay prostrate...in order to worship God properly...surely if God was preached and we knew him for who he is, this would be our natural response and not something we would need to be instructed in? Food for thought?) I've often entered a church and thought - would a prostitute be welcome here? If I arrived dirty and in rags, would I be welcome here? Are you telling the truth when you say all are welcome? See, I believe unconditional love always wins...
But, in the same way that school has become what it is because of the sheer numbers of children needing an education, there's a part of me that wonders how much of church looks the way it does because of the control that man feels he needs over large groups of people. And in the same way I think there are incredible talented teachers with hearts FOR children, I think there are pastors and elders who get God's idea and purpose of a body meeting together. To those of you who preach His love and shout out His grace...I honor and admire you for being his messengers.
And the funny thing is this: as we walk this road, we come along so many, many folk who are walking outside of formal Christian institutions. So many folk who are doing this "other" road. And it's been like that in our journey of homeschooling too. I'm not sure where God is taking us...but I know it's an "other" path. It gets really lonely - I miss the close knit community I imagine church can be...
My road.
My thoughts.
God's work.
I'm about to hit the publish button, but have to share, that this draft has been around for over a week. And yesterday? Yesterday I went to church for the first time in over 5 years. I cannot help wondering what God is up to. He gave me such beautiful gifts in the fun my children had, and the way he spoke to their hearts...but the service I was in? Questions dear friends, questions...
But now I sit here, mulling over how to write this post. It's not really that easy, when it comes to putting it all down. Partly because it's a long journey with many highs and many valleys. Partly because I know some of you folks reading this blog. I don't wish to offend you, and yet the reality is, some of what I write may very well offend you. So let me tie in with the Olympics and say, this is my lane. My race. It in no way means that there is a fault in your journey. Or that my journey should look like yours. Simply, we're each in our own lanes.
But it is my story.
My journey.
Let's start there. The beginning of my story, my journey. For unless you know where I'm coming from, you may not fully understand why I am where I am.
I have been in many, many different churches since I became a Christian 18 years ago. As a zealous teenager (whose parents attended an Anglican church for Christmas and Easter), I attended youth groups run by a variety of churches, went on camps run by the S.U. and individual churches, and thrived under the patient teaching of the pastors and folks whose passion it was to love and teach young people.
Church was the norm. Braveheart and I even met after an evening church service when we were both in our teens, and when he left to study at the Natal Technikon, he became involved with a dynamic church there that God used to open his eyes (and then mine) to the possibilities in Christ. When I started studying at Rhodes University two years later, I remember trying out all the churches that were the most popular, looking for one like the one Braveheart had found, and praying that God would show me the one I should call home for the next four years.
After 7 months of searching and not quite feeling at home, I was close to giving up. One Sunday, I told God I would walk around Grahamstown until I found a church he wanted me at. I walked. A long way. And EVENTUALLY, right on the other side of Grahamstown (bear in mind I had no car!), I came across this tiny wee Full Gospel Church. And as I passed the doors I knew this was where God wanted me - which was surprising as it was a lot more traditional than churches I had been used to being a part of AND at that time, not one other Rhodes University student was part of the congregation!
Well, I stayed, and it was the richest few years of my life. It was an elderly congregation, with a few young families, and they quickly became like a family to me, exactly what I needed being so far from home. God clearly showed me in the first few months what he wanted of me there, and I'm sad to say, I acted like Moses and refused to do it alone. So he gave me an Aaron, and I learnt a hard lesson about saying no to God because of my own fear. Together we led the Young Adults and Youth, and it was so richly rewarding.
Braveheart finished studying before me and travelled with a church group to Malawi, as well as travelling overseas, and then when I returned to Zim, we wed and started attending a new church run by a familiar pastoral couple. Braveheart had been a part of it for a while before I returned home, and led the praise and worship team. It was then that I started asking God a lot of questions, as did many of the folk around us. And if I were to pinpoint a time, I would say it was then, that I was growing steadily disillusioned with church... dissatisfied...discontent. Why was every service the same? Why did so few people have anything to really share? How come people didn't shout out the good things God was doing? Why was every sermon seemingly based on how to be a perfect Christian? If I was an atheist who walked into this service, would my heart be blown away by the truth and tangible presence of God?
God then began a period in our lives where he stripped down every conceivable idol there was, whether we realized it or not. Family members whom we had placed on an unhealthy pedestal were humbled and God shined his light so clearly in how unhealthily we had worshiped mere people instead of him. Whilst in South Korea, God used our experiences there (the worst yet most life changing year for both Braveheart and I) to tear down an idol we had made of another couple close to us who walked with God in an amazing way. And furthermore, we were forced out of church by the very nature of there being no English speaking churches near us. And this was before we even owned a computer or had ready access to the Internet - how different it would be now if we were to go back! (I'm remembering even now how much I searched for an English speaking church to be in whilst we were there - believe me, I tried! Paul Yong YCho? I even went to his church!)
The third time God did it (removed idols from our life), was after we moved to Cape Town. We had chosen to live in a certain area to be close to a church. It was during our time there, that God stripped down the last idol we had between us and Him... worshiping a church instead of Him, relying on folk to feed us instead of Him, looking to elders to guide us instead of Him. For a long time, in spite of our experiences in church, we had placed this one group of churches above all others. We believed with all out hearts that they were doing exactly what God had called churches to do, and to some extent that they were "perfect".
Without needing to go into too much detail, our relationship with them was wrenched apart after we chose to be vulnerable and admit openly and honestly how imperfect we really were, and that we were in need of help. The message we were left with was to "shape up or ship out" - my own words. That was the final blow in my walk with churches. It was devastating to Braveheart and I, and sent us both reeling. Although to some degree I can understand an eldership's need to "protect" their flock, I cannot understand the judgement and lack of grace that was displayed to us.
And so life continued. We'd spent two years trying to make friends in this church and we were asked to sever contact with the folk in the church. We ended up going back to Korea, and I knew we needed time to heal. When we returned, we moved to another suburb, where many other Zimbabwean families had already moved and we tried a number of churches...but still the questions kept cropping up, and my disillusionment grew.
I believe in Church. I do. I see it throughout Scripture. I see how God wanted his people bound together at the heart level. Church in Scripture is beautiful.
But what I see in today's reality makes me want to weep.
I will not believe that what I see today on Sundays is the way God wants his church to be. I can not let my spirit settle for that. I long for something more.
This is what God is doing in out lives. He is calling Braveheart and I, challenging us, to find the other. He's done that with the way in which He wants us to school our kids. He does that in the way Braveheart manages our finances. And He's done it to the way we fellowship and the way we see church. It's only today that I see God started us on this quest for something different, some road less travelled so long ago, even before we started the schooling journey.
Why does Church sadden me? Because it's become a well oiled machine, institutions and organisations with managers, not organic bodies following the Spirit. I'm saddened by how prescriptive churches have become, and how little of the GRACE of God and who He is and His personality and character is preached. I firmly, and I mean so firmly that I hold to it unwaveringly, believe, that if those that preach would dare to preach only God's love and the radical message of grace, all else would come without any effort. ( Let me give you an example: I am pained to hear folk preaching on praise and worship and how one should raise one's hands, spin around, lay prostrate...in order to worship God properly...surely if God was preached and we knew him for who he is, this would be our natural response and not something we would need to be instructed in? Food for thought?) I've often entered a church and thought - would a prostitute be welcome here? If I arrived dirty and in rags, would I be welcome here? Are you telling the truth when you say all are welcome? See, I believe unconditional love always wins...
But, in the same way that school has become what it is because of the sheer numbers of children needing an education, there's a part of me that wonders how much of church looks the way it does because of the control that man feels he needs over large groups of people. And in the same way I think there are incredible talented teachers with hearts FOR children, I think there are pastors and elders who get God's idea and purpose of a body meeting together. To those of you who preach His love and shout out His grace...I honor and admire you for being his messengers.
And the funny thing is this: as we walk this road, we come along so many, many folk who are walking outside of formal Christian institutions. So many folk who are doing this "other" road. And it's been like that in our journey of homeschooling too. I'm not sure where God is taking us...but I know it's an "other" path. It gets really lonely - I miss the close knit community I imagine church can be...
My road.
My thoughts.
God's work.
I'm about to hit the publish button, but have to share, that this draft has been around for over a week. And yesterday? Yesterday I went to church for the first time in over 5 years. I cannot help wondering what God is up to. He gave me such beautiful gifts in the fun my children had, and the way he spoke to their hearts...but the service I was in? Questions dear friends, questions...
Resolutions...
I love the beginning of a year.
I love how it feels to me that overnight I have been given a clean slate, an opportunity to start afresh.
To start anew.
It's like that first day of school (when I went as a child!): sharpening all my pencils, organizing my bag, the smell of new books...
And this year, I am excited.
I am GLAD to be welcoming in a new year.
I am looking forward....
and that is a wonderful, wonderful feeling!
And one resolution is uppermost in my mind.
To tame my dragon.
In me resides a dragon, that comes to the fore whenever I am hard pressed by my own children (why is it that it is our own children with whom our patience can waiver so thin sometimes?).
It is the dragon of Harsh Tone.
And it pains me to see the affect my tone can have on my precious charges.
And so this year, I am undertaking, to slay this dragon.
This is going to be the year ... I am resolved.
And yet, in reading this timely post, I was reminded:
I can recognize the fear that grips her heart, because I too wonder the same...
"Fear that I am impotent of change, that new ways can’t be my ways. What if I will always be this way… (fill in the blank with fear of personal choice: self-centered, overweight, uneducated, unmotivated, debt-ridden, angry, anxious, apathetic, unfulfilled…)"
I love how it feels to me that overnight I have been given a clean slate, an opportunity to start afresh.
To start anew.
It's like that first day of school (when I went as a child!): sharpening all my pencils, organizing my bag, the smell of new books...
And this year, I am excited.
I am GLAD to be welcoming in a new year.
I am looking forward....
and that is a wonderful, wonderful feeling!
And one resolution is uppermost in my mind.
To tame my dragon.
In me resides a dragon, that comes to the fore whenever I am hard pressed by my own children (why is it that it is our own children with whom our patience can waiver so thin sometimes?).
It is the dragon of Harsh Tone.
And it pains me to see the affect my tone can have on my precious charges.
And so this year, I am undertaking, to slay this dragon.
This is going to be the year ... I am resolved.
And yet, in reading this timely post, I was reminded:
- trying harder only results in harder trials
- to forge new tracks across this year will needs more than simply sheer effort, gritty determination.
I can recognize the fear that grips her heart, because I too wonder the same...
"Fear that I am impotent of change, that new ways can’t be my ways. What if I will always be this way… (fill in the blank with fear of personal choice: self-centered, overweight, uneducated, unmotivated, debt-ridden, angry, anxious, apathetic, unfulfilled…)"
But here is the sheer beauty, the gift of grace...
Impossible resolutions require God solutions.
And so daily, I need to fall upon Christ, and in him and through him, slay this dragon once and for all.
Cross on over here to read her 5 suggestions for making resolutions that stick....I love them...such wisdom as I set out on this challenge....
may your resolutions be birthed in Him this year....
Bravely facing Blind Spots...
In a recent article that flew around our homeschool community in the Western Cape, I was really challenged to take a deep long look at the blind spots that I have experienced this year. I'm only a rookie, this is my first year in homeschooling my first grade son. (My other two children attend wonderful playgroups/nursery schools, and you can read about my reasons for that here.)
 |
| co-op at Silvermine Dam |
- I think there are two that vie for first position, my biggest blind spots this year. The first would have to be socialisation. I'd read all the arguments against schools and the way in which children are socialised there; and I'd heard all the staunch arguments by homeschoolers of the advantages of being 'socialised' with their immediate family and the different age groups homeschoolers are exposed to. Looking back now, I see that I began this year so on board with the anti-school sentiments sometimes portrayed by homeschoolers that I just assumed King Arthur's need for socialisation would be met by me and having his siblings around for the afternoon, and doing co-op.
I have come to realise that my children, all three of them are primarily social creatures. They love having friends around, and yet are equally able to play well with each other for hours, or withdraw to their rooms to play independently quite happily). (OK, true for two of the three!).
However, as this year has progressed, a discrepancy has arisen. My youngest are all played out by the time they get home, having had a wonderful morning of fun and friendship. They're ready for time with me. But King Arthur, after soaking me up all morning, is now ready for some fun and friendship, and I have not paid close enough attention to that until now. I have not met that need of his. It is only now, as God shines his light on it, that I see that I am in effect homeschooling an only child. And that King Arthur's desire for social interaction can not be fully met by our family. My growing boy needs more regular interactions with friends. Looking critically at his week, interacting once or twice a week with friends is not enough for him. And as a homeschooling mother, it becomes my responsibility to actively create ways for him to do this, whether it's as simple as having an afternoon friends can come play, or starting a outdoor enjoyment/nature club, or looking at getting him involved in sport. This is a blind spot I am so thankful God has overturned. (Didn't you love going home with friends from school? That's something I miss, impromptu play dates...)
learning how to chop veggies
to make soup at co-op
- Here's the next biggie – in this age of information, it is so easy for me to assume that knowledge is paramount. But, there is such a distinct difference between knowledge and wisdom. I was so emotional with the recent passing of Steve Jobs (ahem, I have little logical explanation for it)... I think what I so loved about him was that as a college drop out, he still managed to become one of the leading figures of today's digital age, indeed he revolutionised the way we live what with the iPhone, iMac, iPad, iTunes etc. I have got lost in the academia of 'education' this year and I see this as a potential trap I can readily fall into each year. It's not about the knowledge that I can readily impart, even if my gifting is for that and it comes naturally to me. There is so much more to education than the amassing of knowledge! Again, the light God has shone on this area recently makes me see that what’s important is teaching my kids what to do with that knowledge, and that is what can give my children the extra edge in today's world. Wisdom (that comes from God), insight, and the ability to think critically is so much more important than diligently ploughing through the curriculum.
school anytime...anywhere!
- Curriculums/Homeschoooling becoming my god. It's true, this year, for the first 6 months, I lived, breathed, ate, slept, curriculums, homeschooling etc. Homeschooling wasn't a way of life, it was an obsession. A god. I don't want to be defined by homeschooling, I am so much more – I'd like to be defined by my relationship with God, then by the wife I am, then by the mother I am...not by the way in which I homeschool. Now look, there is nothing wrong with any of the looking, reading, researching etc, especially if this is your first year, or you are looking into this as an option, but at some point, in this age of information saturation, you have to draw the line, make a decision, and move on – start walking the talk not just talking the walk! Start doing the things you've bookmarked in your craft folder, or pinned on Pinterest, and when that folder is empty, then look for more! Perhaps this is a natural progression- only veteran mothers of homeschooling can tell me if this is what it's like and if after you find your feet these days of obsession fall away?! Having God impress on me the importance of investing my time has also helped. I've streamlined my use of screen time, chosen days where I don't switch it on no matter what, and it's really helped.
Proud Aragorn with his crafted wilding stick
from co-op
- My personality leads me to like order and structure, nothing I'm ashamed of. I like how organised and neat my life is, and I'm very comfortable with the boundaries I have in place. However, because of that, I have fallen into this mode of being stressed out that I cannot fit into my week what the schedule says I must! And as a result, I have become a slave to my schedule in our chosen curriculum. Perhaps because it's because I like to tick ALL the boxes...thankfully I've outgrown (ahem, am outgrowing it, present tense!) that during the course of the year and I can now scan what needs to be achieved in the week, pick out the parts I think need our attention and proceed. But, if you know me, you know what a challenge this is! I am continually growing in making the schedule serve me, rather than being it's slave. I might need to be reminded of this as we move into the last part of this year!
Belle on a recent date of ours...
- Fabulous Fun – I'm not sure why you chose to homeschool, or what your memories of junior school were like. I do know that I loved my early grades: I can recall wonderful teachers, fun swimming times, searching for stink bugs, huge playing fields and wonderful break times, cake sales – in fact the things that stand out for me were largely fun, or people orientated. I remember being taught how to make a skyline meet the grass when I painted, I remember readers, and handwriting patterns, and being the leader/helper for the day. All good things. In asking God to show me my blind spots, I can see that I have a tendency to focus too much on the “seriousness of school”, and forget that actually at the end of the day, my children are so young and there is SO much life ahead of them, I can afford to lighten up a bit. It's time to allow FUN!And somehow remembering all of this, makes me see so clearly, that this road, this journey of parenting (whether you homeschool or not) really is about having the hearts of my children. And the only way I can keep their hearts is to keep turning into God and asking him to light my path and to show me where to put my feet.
May your path be well lit friend,
May His Grace show you where to boldly step...
Finding my Feet
The last couple of weeks for me have been heart sore ones.
Yet they've been laced with growth, and insight, and deep peace.
A dear, sweet, incredible lady went home.
And in her death, I've realised how much her life bled out for Christ has taught me.
I've learned, as her dad shared at her memorial, that the opinions of people do matter, but that they should never inhibit me....
I've learned that my life looks different to hers, to others. And that there is reason for that.
But this life? This one that God has given me, is mine to live. Mine to grab a hold of by the neck and wring the very essence of it out.
In many ways, my life does not look like I expected it would. That's hard to explain in greater depth. But I've seen the choice I have. I can live with yearning for a life different to mine, or I can accept that God, in his great wisdom, knows what he is doing and why this life he has given to me indeed looks the way it does. This life, is for me and him. This life, the way it looks, is to draw me deeper into a relationship with him that He may be glorified. That's the point.
I am who God created ME to be. And when I really grasp that, and start living it, it is beautifully, wonderfully freeing...
I've seen for the first time that the deep desire of my heart to live the depth and breadth of my life has been honoured by God in giving me this gift of homeschooling my children. It really is a gift. Something that brings me such sweet joy...such delight. This journey of mine on this homescholing path is God's gift to me. O how sweet!
And for me, there is such freedom in that.
May you too, find the gift that is in your life, whatever it may be, and the wonderful freedom that is yours to enjoy...
and here's a lovely link for you, in this beautiful blog, this post about the end of a season, the freedom, the truth that this journey of homeschooling is one to be followed on bended knee...
...join me in praying for Adrian, Hannah and Dan as they continue this journey...
Yet they've been laced with growth, and insight, and deep peace.
A dear, sweet, incredible lady went home.
And in her death, I've realised how much her life bled out for Christ has taught me.
I've learned, as her dad shared at her memorial, that the opinions of people do matter, but that they should never inhibit me....
I've learned that my life looks different to hers, to others. And that there is reason for that.
But this life? This one that God has given me, is mine to live. Mine to grab a hold of by the neck and wring the very essence of it out.
In many ways, my life does not look like I expected it would. That's hard to explain in greater depth. But I've seen the choice I have. I can live with yearning for a life different to mine, or I can accept that God, in his great wisdom, knows what he is doing and why this life he has given to me indeed looks the way it does. This life, is for me and him. This life, the way it looks, is to draw me deeper into a relationship with him that He may be glorified. That's the point.
I am who God created ME to be. And when I really grasp that, and start living it, it is beautifully, wonderfully freeing...
I've seen for the first time that the deep desire of my heart to live the depth and breadth of my life has been honoured by God in giving me this gift of homeschooling my children. It really is a gift. Something that brings me such sweet joy...such delight. This journey of mine on this homescholing path is God's gift to me. O how sweet!
And for me, there is such freedom in that.
May you too, find the gift that is in your life, whatever it may be, and the wonderful freedom that is yours to enjoy...
and here's a lovely link for you, in this beautiful blog, this post about the end of a season, the freedom, the truth that this journey of homeschooling is one to be followed on bended knee...
...join me in praying for Adrian, Hannah and Dan as they continue this journey...
Seeds...
I never really expected these seeds to have such a profound impact on me.
Over the space of a few days, I've been beckoned to these glass jars on the windowsill.
I find myself looking for an excuse to snatch another peek...and then another, and yet another.
This growth?
It's a miracle.
When last did you take the time to watch something grow?
The speed of these seeds amaze me.
The way the hard outer casing cracks open, unfurling a shoot.
How roots have grown downwards seeking out a way in which to anchor the plant born of a desire to find nutrients.
How the seed itself contains all the food this plant needs for its initial growth.
How does the root know to grow downwards?
Or the shoot upwards?
It's been designed.
It's God's gift to me on this sun speckled morning on my windowsill.
And what I want to know, is just how does this seed grow?
It doesn't strive or will itself to grow.
It doesn't think positively or make an effort.
It just naturally does what it was created to do.
The only things this seed needed to germinate was light and water.
And that's got me pondering....
"I am the Light of the world..."
The "water of life"...the "living water"...
To see those seeds grow in my life, perhaps the secret then is being saturated in Him, basking in his light?
Food for thought huh?
The Secret of Success
My dear friend Laura has recently just updated her blog with their latest news with their charity work – setting up a home for 15 deserving under-privileged “A” Level students, and educating them.
And as I read the work she and her husband are doing, the sacrifices they are making personally and as a family living in Zimbabwe, I am reminded of Jesus.
Truly I am. The secret to this life? To living a successful life?
Is this: the more we try to find our lives, make our lives, carve out a life for us to live, the more we will fail.
For sure.
But, the more we lose it, the more we lay it down, the more we give up our time/effort/energy, (you fill in the blanks..)
it is then that we truly begin to have a life worth living, worth embracing.
And how do we do that? All in our own callings?
It can only be
in Him.
Through Him.
With Him.
For Him.
