more to say

Just stand up and take a breath and let the words come out your mouth. 

You have more to say that you are letting on, 

you have more to say that your heart racing and fingers sweating would have you believe.

 There is always been more to say, conversations that I finish in my head because in that moment I did not quite get to say everything that was spilling through my brain. I'm learning though, slowly but surely just to speak out the things that make my heart race and fingers sweat and that make me a tiny bit fearful of what comes next.

But sometimes, and this is one of the most important things I am learning, sometimes, although there is more to say...it is just better to stay quiet, or to just say one simple sentence.

I miss this space I came to process, where words tumbled out my fingers, but it has always been sporadic, I think I am a sporadic person in general. So it shall be, sporadic and uncertain. Sometimes with all the words there are to say spilling out into these screens and sometimes just silence, a photo here or there.

R.

you said breath and life stood up

You have never ever given up You have never turned your back on us You said light, and light there was You created all that was, You said breath and life stood up, You are God and great above it all.  You are more than we’ll ever know You give life and life to the full You have never ever given up.

soft snow flakes

[wpvideo HRxnSHOO] it snowed on christmas day.winter is here. the wood store is going low. the layers are adding up...5 long-sleeves today and counting.  i am simultaneously loving the cosy evenings and dreaming of the sun-soaked spring days that are coming.r/ 

in the rear view mirror

You look different from this angle, through the rear view mirror as the '2016 turns to '2017 and the memories are all that I have to see.2016, you look different; different lines are showing now, different moments and revelations are showing their faces as I look back through the glass.You weren't easy to drive through, you gave me pot holes and unexpected turns and twists in the dark, but somehow looking back at you I can see the path driven clearer now.The turns and hills more in focus. The lessons and adventures and friendships are like crisp mountain outlines and clear horizon lines, created to be noticed and appreciated as I turn my head around and see where I've come from.Hindsight is a beautiful thing.R/

i hear the drums echoing tonight...

sammadde2

"it's going to take a lot to drag me away from you"

You have taught me more than I can express; you brought us all together under fairy lights with good coffee, food and the perfect dance party. Maybe the best reason to get on a plane, to celebrate the two of you.

R/

those two tiny words

I don't want to pack. The task of laying out everything I need for two months on the floor, and then trying to fit it into a suitcase that only weighs 23kg is not something that makes me jump out of my bed and rush to do.How am I meant to know what to take for two months, how am I meant to know what will happen in that time? I'm writing mainly as a distraction from it all, the packing and the cleaning...but also because I have figured that I haven't written much in 2016. I haven't given time to it or made it a part of my life. I swore to myself that I would on January 1st - that writing would be something I did regularly. That it would be good for me. And then as with most things I promise myself I forgot and I got too busy with other things.I have been having this conversation with various people over the past few years about the word 'no'. The word which somehow kids seem to learn early and say all the time and then when we reach adulthood some of us forgot it exists. I'm often a yes person; 'yes' i will help you out, 'yes i will come to that event', 'yes of course i have time to do all of the jobs you are giving me'.It has lead to me not necessarily making wise decisions over the years. It has lead to me having experienced some form of burn-out, encountered panic attacks and generally being tired more often than rested.I fully believe that sometimes you have to say yes when you don't want to, or when it might be hard. But I also know that the word 'no' is just as important. Learning to say 'I'm sorry but I can't come' or 'I'm sorry but I don't have time to do that as well as all the other things'. Because when I say 'yes' all the time, and i don't think this only happens to me, my yes becomes a mess of tiredness and half done jobs or helping out, and seems to lead to disappointment, and broken promises.I mean Jesus said it best: ^"But let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No,’ ‘No.’ For whatever is more than these is from the evil one." Matt 5:37It seems this isn't just a modern day problem, but something humanity has been struggling with for a while.But I think, very slowly I'm learning when to say yes and when to say no, and how to do it all in the best way. I should have said yes to more writing this year, yes to more of the words flowing out of my head than being stuck there for months swirling around. I should have said no to a lot of the things I have done and taken on. And right now I should say yes to packing, so I can fly back to England tomorrow.So if you know me and you start to hear the word 'no' more often, please encourage it, I'm sure in some ways it will lead to a more healthy way for us all to live.R/

*image from http://beautifuffle.tumblr.com/post/145521297441

candy coated unicorns are hard to find...

i took up running in February...okay so maybe jogging at a push, but consistently 3 times a week before work i have met up with the beautiful Tori and run around our little town.so when our friends suggested a 5k colour-run we signed up along with them. Queue a bus trip to Timisoara, a walk across the city, crazy dance music, tutu's, temporary tattoos and a crowded warm-up....5k later we are covered in chalky paint, sipping beers waiting to be told its time to throw the paint packs in the air and be covered all over again.it's worth doing, i promise...the tag-line as the happiest 5k might actually be true. We ended the day tired and happy, vowing to make this a tradition.

not until you look behind

It happens so quickly this time thing. The seasons change behind you as you move through day to day and suddenly it's 'how many weeks until you fly?' 'When are you coming back, are you coming back?' And 'how do we finish this well'.The summer crept up on me this year, somehow the endless blue skies didn't give it away. There have been fewer goodbyes (thank you Dumnezeu) and no thoughts of a summer alone in a house. This year has passed a bit like a dream, one dreamt a million times over which you only realise actually happened when you are looking behind you. The time moves on and on and somehow I'm here, planning time off to sleep and dream bigger, travel a bit and then return...hopefully with more fire in my belly and better language skills and dreams and plans a bit bigger and wider and higher than before. We sat on the balcony of the green/blue house the other day; Looking out at the view, praying for this time apart that we have before us... And I found myself being in awe that somehow I had become one of them. The ones who just stayed a bit longer, and suddenly in 3 months I'll be into the fourth year here... the one who is meant to know how it goes. Working with these people, I don't know how to explain it, it's beautiful, heart breakingly, joy bringingly beautiful. I've realised more than every now that change happens slowly and gently and often in a way you don't realise until you look behind you. I'm spending the week at Tauț, helping with cleaning and organising and making sure the visitors have what they need. It's a different type of work and it's the most beautiful place to be. R/

when the sun sets and it's just good people

I'm finding that friendships come in many forms, each as different and beautiful as the last. All so common and so rare, each teaching you something different about this world.R/

life lately

R/

the hands of a clock

Before I knew how a clock worked, before I knew that minute hands and second hands existed, I remember asking my mum to do something with me, she told I need to wait for an hour when she was done with whatever she was doing. She told me to wait until the hand had gone all the way around the clock.So I sat, in our hallway, in front of the piano staring at the clock. But as I didn't understand the complex notion of the hour, minute and second hand, I decided that the slowest moving one was the one I was to watch. That it had to move through every number. I decided the hour was actually a whole day. That my mum was asking me to wait that long, and it seemed like it was forever.But the joy of the moment where it was sooner than I thought. That was sweet.For no reason at all, that memory stayed with me, always and forever it seems. And it creeps into my brain when I begin to complain about waiting. Waiting for anything. Waiting for food, or people, or life events to happen.Waiting is a game I hate playing. (so maybe that is the reason I remember)Anyways in some areas of life, I feel like I am waiting. Waiting for promises and waiting for dreams and waiting for events to happen. Waiting is hard, and beautiful and weird and exciting.I'm still figuring out how to do waiting well, how to use the time, how to rest in the before, how to not wish away the time, how to be content, how to stay happy, not be frustrated...All the things.But maybe sometimes it is okay to sit and stare at a clock for a while. To acknowledge the frustrations and the pain in the waiting. And maybe to ask the people around you to stand in those things with you. To let you rant at kitchen tables while they cook (and you eat off their chopping board). To just give the time to acknowledge that waiting is a hard game to play.R/ 

We didn't take any photos

Alice came to stay. The sweet beautiful girl I shared the top floor with for two years, and my heart with more times that I can count. She booked a flight, packed a bright yellow bag and flew across Europe to walk in step with me for 5 days. She met everyone all at once, because it happened to be a birthday party weekend, and pancake day celebrations. She churched and worked and slipped wonderfully into the life I live here. I didn't plan anything special, (apparently I'm not that type of host). But it was perfect and simple and life breathing. When someone knows you for so long there is a different perspective they give. One that says 'hey, i know you, you're doing okay here'. We didn't take any photos, I guess it kind of got forgotten, we were too busy talking and living life together again for a while. Alice, come back whenever you want: mattress, sofa or whatever I can offer you. I'll fold some sheets in a draw with your name on them. R/ 

Prayer

Around three months ago I sat on a chair in front of a group of people and talked about prayer. I talked about what I had learnt as I looked at Jesus and his life. What I saw in his prayer life, in his daily actions.Intimacy basically. The quiet, hidden, behind closed door place was where I ended up.And then I got busy again. Busy trying to fit a thousand thoughts and actions in a day all the while missing what I spoke about on that day.But here is the thing, I don't actually think I was that busy.I had a job to do, and life things which take time, but I was not actually busy or stressed. I just didn't know how to manage my time, prioritise the important things, or live in a routine.And as I traveled back for Christmas, and New Years and time off I thought about how little time I had taken to spend in the quiet, in the hidden intimate places.The time where you get to sit at the feet of God and lay it all out, and read his word and his guiding. And slowly as my holiday and rest came to an end, I began to make lists and plans.Figure out the ways in which I can prioritise my time. I have found myself realising that so many times I blame everything around me for making my life 'busy' or 'stressed' forgetting that I have the capability to stop, breath and take a bit of control.I think maybe I have brought into the lie that rushing around with 1000 things to do is what makes you successful, and that being a busy person means you are valuable. Some where along the line I think I decided that to be loved, to be accepted, to be someone, then you need to have a life where your diary is full and your to-do lists are longer than your arm, and so I looked to live life in that way.And as I start 2016 I think it is time to let go of that lie. To see that spending time behind a closed door, sat with a bible and listening to God is so much more important than anything else.  You cannot claim to have a friendship with someone who you never make time to speak to, and you cannot give out when you are empty.So I want to be slower, be quieter, be more aware of the stillness that is needed. I want to loose track of time sometimes, and not worry about the to-do lists.R/

afraid to write

"the thing you are most afraid to write, write that."

This quote has sat in the draft section of this blog for about a year. I see it each time I log in and each time before this I said "no way"; The quote makes sense to me, because I think most often what we are afraid to write, or speak or share, or let the world see is linked to the things that make us vulnerable. It just seemed too big to tackle.

But this week I responded to a banterous comment in a way I never have before, and the response came back something like this:

'well, there speaks a women who is healed'

A tiny, throw-away comment, made over lunch in the midst of a busy day in a busy week. But it stayed with me and has been playing over in my head since then.

And I think this is why.

Because this week I didn't get upset, or offended, or angry. I didn't take the comment as a reflection on my character, or identity. The words of someone else did not effect me in the way that they had done in the past.

And tonight as I have sat down to write after not writing in so long, I have begun to see that above everything else that has happened, God has and is healing me.

He has slowly, gently, beautifully picked up the pieces of me that made me misunderstand my identity and showed me the truth.

The truth that my identity is in Him. That my identity has nothing to do with my face or body shape. It has nothing to do with the things others say or do in regards to me. My identity is not as short or brunette or loud or extroverted or introverted or organised or messy. My identity has nothing to do with the boxes and structures we humans seem to love to place one another in.

It is 100% to do with Him.

My identity is to do with pointing to Him, worshiping Him, following Him.

His creation of humankind, His love as a Father, as a King, as a Friend. His desire to be close and in relationship with us. My identity is in that relationship, in His grace (which I am forever trying to understand), in His might and wonder. In His love, compassion and heartache for the world.

I've been scared to make public, to write the process of it all. I've been scared to make public that I have had to ask the King of Heaven to break down walls and chisel off things I have held so tightly to, scared to admit that I have hidden behind causes and false 'independent women' statements rather than dealing with the pain or the anger.

I still do not have it all together, I still over-think sometimes and get offended and angry. I still have things in me which need healing. But I no longer find myself walking into every room with the need to prove something.

 He is enough for me, and by His grace He accepts me as I am.

So I am going to write, to be disciplined and write.

About the journey, and the reality of it all. About the things which make me a bit afraid and vulnerable.

I will always try to point to God, to Jesus in it all, because I do not know anything else in the world that is more real or wonderful than them.

R/

Vienna: a selfie story

We got a night train to meet a Finnish girl in Austria.Coffee, Christmas markets, good food, Glühwein and a few selfies later, we had the best mini break any group of girls could ask for.Having an international family is always a good thing. Especially when they let you sleep on their floors and show you the cities they live in.  We arrived!!!! That big building, the yellow one is the King's palace.And this one was his queen's brunch house: we all want one.This is what we do in coffee shopsA bitter sweet goodbye before a train back home.We love you Miia!R/ 

Nests

I'm most comfortable with my legs a mess folded below me and my hair bundled up on my head; coffee cup sat to the side of me and laptop and books in front.I don't know what it is about that position which brings so much joy to me...maybe too many idyllic tumblr pictures with the suggestion of a perfect life. But it is where I write best, where I process best and generally where I feel more at peace with myself.I have taken to creating nests of blankets and cushions around me, especially over this past week which I spent confided at home ill.Mostly I have been trying to sleep away whatever virus has been in me, but a week in bed and nests has given me a chance to catch up with myself. To think (and probably overthink) some things through. To allow my brain to day-dream and process all the notes that have stacked up in my journal over the past few weeks, months and years.I've entered my third year here now, in the little village I now call home. I find that often when I talk of home I generally mean people, but recently we have just had a new influx of people while others have left and moved onto new exciting projects and lives. And I have begun to realise that even with all these goodbyes and hellos, I have carved out a actual physical place called home.The more I say goodbye, the more time I find myself seeking that cosy nest where I manage to process life, and read more about God and Jesus and Holy Spirit. And the more I read, and pray and process, the more I begin to see why I am here, who brought me here, and what it truly means to say that I love God and choose Him above all else.And truly I guess, that is where I have found my home. Because somehow here, amongst this constant changing group of wonderful people, in this village, I have found out what it means to seek Him and find my home in Him.R/  

quiet weekends.

quiet weekends before we welcome 10 and begin everything again. this one has a habit of sitting here and singing her beautiful heart out.

R/

if i had a daughter

If I had a daughter, I would tell her that looks matter...

the ones you give people, the smiles and frowns, the scowls and judgements, the laughter and understanding...the looks you give people matter.

They effect everyone around you. Your influence is through them. Your words and actions.

Your hair being a mess does not matter, nor does the amount of make-up on your face. The size of your waist is a number and your height is perfectly designed, the freckles you have were placed individually and the pitch of your voice is something that was tuned to you.

What matters is your attitude, your heart to the world around you.

What matters in that God loves you, and I do and your Father does.

I would tell her to be honest,

and not to be afraid of being vulnerable.

I would tell her that we fall and fail, but that we can get up again and move on and heal.

I would tell her that loving someone is the biggest gift, biggest challenge and best way to learn to forgive.

I would tell her that she is, by just existing, the most amazing person. That by existing she is loved and treasured and desired.

I would tell her that the world is a big and scary place until you look at it through the creators eyes.

I would tell her to ask Him for His eyes, and ears and heart.

If I have a daughter I want to give her the best of me, not pass on the insecurities.

If I have a daughter, I want her to grow up in a world where she can be who she is, without condemnation or judgement.