Summer Lovin

Summer has been fun ……

Winter is coming, warm socks, merino from ‘House of G’ and many other homely comforts like my grey paisley hoody and matching warm ugg-boots.

But I rage against it. I don’t want to go there. Ahhhh flippin heck. Some of the things I feel or think about, like winter coming, seem very small and unimportant in blog-land-life. But I guess it’s the small things we do that seem to make up the walking of this life that we do. Maybe not writing about the washing but boy if I don’t get a load done (if it gets rained on), I’m frustrated and my day hasn’t gone as completely perfect as I’d hoped.

The small things, however silly or insignificant, do make up this ragamuffin life I’m living. Some of them make up who I am and explain why I’m the way I am. Things like – I need to have the dishes done before I go to bed or out for the day, simply so I don’t have to do it when I get home! Also something about me is I like to get my clothes sorted out for the next day, or for the wedding I’m going too, well inadvance. Mostly just the day before. It makes things run smoothly. Why do I feel the need to write about this? Who knows. It’s what makes me, me.

I love things to look forward too, even a movie. I check movies that are coming up, so that when the girls are away, I can see one. Ma and I saw 18 movies together last year when she would come once a fortnight to visit. What a cracker! I really like the toilet paper rolling down one way, paper closest to the wall. I like my cushions looking tidy on the couch, I don’t care about other peoples mess or tidiness, but I enjoy my own little tidy-habits for me.

A bit more about my summer-lovin:

Swimming – the ease of it for kids and the fun, refreshing release it gives.

Fresh juicy peaches ….. called something like ‘lady coconut’ ….. even the name melts my taste buds.

I’ll miss you summer salads. Eggs, pine nuts, cocktail tomatoes, avo. I’ll miss you all.

My array of skirts, leggings and summer shoes. Jandals and shorts. All that stuff will soon go away.

I won’t miss the sweating or the rain.

I loved going to sledge track – a walking track with water holes along the way, I loved going to Splash planet (Napier) and to Wellington to see an exhibition with the girls and friends for a fun adventure.

I loved waking up seeing blue sky, having my washing dried by lunch time, drinking diet coke and icy cold water. I loved my birthday parties, my brothers coming to visit, growing my virgin garden with success.

It was a good summer. As the wind settles in and the temperature is dropping, I am fearful. Crazy but true. I am fearful for what winter brings – the coldness, the chill around the cold old houses that people live in here (including my own), what the wintry times look like without being able to check via a time machine. Mostly I feel a dual fear. It’s not big but it’s there. What does my future look like – so bright I’ve gotta wear shades? Hmmmm. And how will we survive another cold winter?

I guess the things I loved about last winter are good – crock pot meals, fire wood supplied, long socks, new winter boots, ugg boots no matter how ugly they look. Traditions whether it’s summer or winter.

In these somewhat small and seemingly silly ‘thin places’ of myself, I can wrestle or I can breathe. I can calm myself and my silly ways down and recall that He is with me wherever I am. I hope I can train myself more to hear that still and small voice that whispers sweet nothings in my ear: You are OK. You’re going to be fine. Winter shows the starkness of the trees without leaves, so you can see things more clearly. Winter is fine. I am in the Winter and the Summer. I made them all. I adore you and your funny little ways and I am helping you in all of that.

My friend Anna told me one day many a year ago, to picture where God was for me. Where is he standing near you? Behind, beside, infront? What is His stance – holding your hand, reaching out for you? What is he saying?

He doesn’t just speak when I receive treats in my amazing letter-box (it has a name now amongst my friends when it delivers amazing surprises), He doesn’t just speak when a huge load of firewood arrives. He seems to speak when I’m shifting a whole load of firewood, or when a friend bikes round to help late one night. “I am with you little Sarah”, as the friend works with me showing that I’m not alone.

Funny thing is I didn’t even expect a friend or necessarily even think I needed someone to help. But when they came, spontaneously, it was beautiful.

Notes i've loved to remind me of some important things, again from Joan D Chittister, ‘Scarred by Struggle, transformed by hope.

It is true that the Jesus who lives in us died but did not die. But just as true is the fact that we have all known resurrection in our lives as well. We have been crucified, each of us, one way or another, and been raised up again. What had been bad for us at the time, we now see, was in the end an invitation to rise to new life. The invitation was to a road, we now admit, which we would never have taken ourselves if we had not been forced to travel it. Looking back we know now that this hard road was really the journey that brought us at least one step closer to wholeness in a world in which wholeness can never exist.

Hope is not some kind of delusional optimism to be resorted to because we simply cannot face the hard facts that threaten to swamp our hearts. People do die and leave us. Friends do leave and desert us. …… But through it all, hope remains, nevertheless, a choice.

We can begin to build a new life when death comes. We can reach out to make friends with others rather than curl up, hurt and angry;, waiting for someone to come to us. We can allow ourselves to love again, knowing now that love is a prize that comes in many shapes and forms. We can let go of a finished present so that what is about to happen in the future can begin.

Hope and despair are not opposites. They are cut from the very same cloth, made from the same material, shaped from the very same circumstances. Every life finds itself forced to choose one from the other, one-day at a time, one circumstance after another. The sunflower, that plant which in shadow turns its head relentlessly toward the sun, is the patron saint of those in despair. When darkness descends on the soul, it is time, like the sunflower, to go looking for whatever good thing in life there is that can bring us comfort. Then we need music and hobbies and friends and fun and new thought, not alcohol and wild nights …… The worst thing is to dull rather than displace the pain with the kind of joy or comfort that makes us new. “Give light”, Erasmus wrote,” and the darkness will disappear of itself.”

Despair shapes an attitude of mind. Hope creates a quality of soul. Despair colors the way we look at things, makes us suspicious of the future, makes us negative about the present. Most of all, despair leads us to ignore the very possibilities that could save us, or worse, leads us to want to hurt as we have been hurt ourselves.

Hope on the other hand, takes life on its own terms, knows that whatever happens God lives in it and expects that, whatever its twists and turns, it will ultimately yield its good to those who live it consciously.

Hope sends us dancing around dark corners trusting in a tomorrow we cannot see because of the multiple pasts of life which we cannot forget.

“To turn and to turn”. Shakers hymn

Jacob did not defeat his opponent. He simply survived the struggle. We become what we are, in other words, but we do not do it, in most cases, in any kind of linear progression. We go from one struggle, to another, becoming as we go.

Maori saying: Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall always behind you. Hope is not a matter of waiting for things outside us to get better. It is about getting better inside about what is going on inside. It is about becoming open to the God of newness. It is about allowing ourselves to let go of the present, to believe in the future we cannot see but can trust to God.

Thin Places

Thin places are a good thing.

I thought ..... when i picked up a book by Mary De Muth ..... thin places meant bad places.

But they aren't at all. Mary (who is an author i adore) describes 'thin places' as places where heaven and the physical world collide, where we see a holy glimpse of the eternal. Kind of like a-ha moments, places or moments where we see God.

I will write more another time, but i see thin places when i see my babies and when i'm having fun. Sometimes i hear Him when my beautiful girls talk to me, or draw, or question life.

I love the fun, i love the people. I love seeing God in them.




I'm reading Mary De Muths 'Thin Places', a memoir. She is a woman who has seen a lot in her life and somehow can look back and see where God was. She also looks at now and sees where He is.

Sometimes i'm so unsure of where I am. I am challenged at how to allow Him to invade the current reality i am living in whether it's just confusion with day to day life, hard decisions to make or just simply the disaster that may be happening right here and now on any given day.

Hope you are seeing Him in whatever you're doing. May our eyes be open.

Congrats Hannah on your grad! You clever lady.

Warming: This could be a long one. Long time no write.

The idea of community is very foreign to some but with experience in community (not a weird naked-loving one by the way), I am keen on it for it’s many facets. Truthfully I feel part of the Television community on some nights. I feel drawn into their stories and often am provoked in my thoughts or moved in my emotions when their ‘unreal’ situations are happening. Funny. True.

I am driven crazy by it too but that is family aye. Community is family. Life in community (church I’m talking) has it’s ups and downs because people are human and we all do dumb stuff. As I write this I’ve been aware that mostly I am totally in love with the Church but am also challenged by the attitudes in our hearts that come to the surface when we rub shoulders with others. (photo is a recent get-together of wonder-woman friends, spectacular fun!)

I was feeling rather stretched in my mind as to what my future held, not necessarily because I was on my own, but that definitely made it feel more tricky if I thought about it for too long! I’d just started working for a few hours a week and that was great but after that came a few more job offers and opportunities. Opportunities to do some things which made me feel excited! Feeling like I could give up the kidswork I was doing at church voluntarily, to do other stuff. Then a dear friend reminded me of what I was good at, what I was passionate about and how that passion had excited her to come and work with me to reach out to kids.

“The kind of work God usually calls you to is the kind of work that you most need to do and the word most needs to have done…. Thus, the place God calls you is the place your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet. Frederick Buechner

Another friend agreed with my ‘silly’ idea of trying to help other mums and dads who found themselves on their own with their children. Sometimes a simple word from another, can help direct the course of your life I guess! I am constantly aware of how good this community thing is. It is a challenge too but a worthwhile one.

We’ve been fortunate enough to stumble across the Anne of Green Gables series. I was flooded with memories of it – her being called Carrots, the delicious Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert, her bosom buddy Dianna and her outrageous approach to being herself. What a great example of someone who was so comfy in her own skin, even though she is a fictional character. We’ve just started the littlest house on the praire – oh how delicious. I’m so glad I’ve got girls I can re-watch those priceless movies with (or girls I can make watch the things I want to!).

The girls had different understandings of what a bossom buddy (Anne of Green G) was – k (the 7 year old) seemed to get it straight away and listed a few of her dearest friends. L just kept looking at my chest, giggling. Kindred Spirits.

One of my bosom buddies text me the other night to see if I wanted to see her latest purchases on skype. It was like a teenage expose of her new clothes and trendy hand-bag. She was elated and did cute wee curtsies at me, prancing around her kitchen infront of the small camera. I loved it.

I had decided that this year was the year of the high-heel. I have one pair and my mind had thought that maybe now that I was getting older, my shoes could be even more mature. The year of the heals is going to be fabulous. Some years it’s just the year of “Oh my goodness I have no clothes” but I wasn’t feeling that. I experimented a bit with scarves last year so maybe that was last years ‘thing’. Anyway another bosom buddy gave me a generous gift to go towards a pair of heels.

On the whole ‘being just 3’ situation, we are doing well. Mostly we are walking along the road of our life, routines and all, and doing well. I am aware that grief is a part of my process more than the girls and I have to be aware of the simple fact that I am grieving the loss of something rather big. But I can say we are laughing, enjoying others, loving life and growing together in all of that. Are there moments of complete ahhhhhhh? Yes. But we sort out and keep walking. It’s colder now and I’m not enjoying that. I realize that with every change of season in the natural, I always feel so umprepared. I am in my summer wardrobe, not ready for merino wool again, but so glad I have it (thank you glassons for reasonably priced merino!).

We’ve had some cool surprises along the way recently. Letter-box gifts of money and presents. Lunches being shouted, coffees being given. In those small or big moments, I have very glad and grateful.

Joan D Chittister, ‘Scarred by Struggle, transformed by hope’.

Struggle is not one thing; it is many things. It’s not simply an event, a happening, a disappointment. It’s all the internal processes that accompany a blow to the psyche so momentous, so sudden, so unexpected, so unwanted that there is no way whatsoever to prepare for its coming.

Struggle forces us to confront our illusions both about the world and ourselves.

Hope is greater than faith because hope not only believes in the presence of the God of Eternity. Hope believes, as well, in the God of Time who companions us now and waits for us in a beneficent future as we discover in struggle all the layers of life within us that go basically unseasoned in times of plenty but wax in times of lean.

It is the gift of new life in disguise. A hard gift, perhaps. A strong gift, indeed. But a gift without which we run the risk of going to our graves only half alive.

12^th century Persian poet Jalaluddin Rumi

I saw grief drinking a cup of sorrow

And called out,

“It tastes sweet, does it not?”

“You’ve caught me,” Grief answered,

“And you’ve ruined my business.

How can I sell sorrow

When you know it’s a blessing?”

There is beauty in the dark valleys of life. It is called hope. Helen Keller, “The hilltop hour would not be half so wonderful if there were no dark valleys to traverse.”