Live for the moments you can't put into words

Live for the moments you can’t put into words.

A few years back we brought in the new year down on the Coromandel. We went camping for a week with a bunch of mates. It was one of the first times I went into a new year feeling content and expectant for what was to come.

The day after New Years Day we headed down to the beach to spend the night, as we left our campsite the brightest shooting star shot across the sky and stopped us all as we stood in awe. Walking down to the beach we passed hundreds of little glow worms lining the path. We got to the beach and the boys started a fire. Side note: it was the FUNNIEST thing, they all went into hunter/gatherer mode and ripped their shirts off (see above) as they ran around scavenging for firewood, us girls couldn’t stop laughing at the way they all changed. I guess that’s the way boys are wired isn’t it! Anyway, we sat around listening to music and chatting away. Huge sets were rolling in and as every wave broke it was full of bioluminescent plankton which sent a brilliant blue light shooting along the waves. I’d seen the plankton many times before, but I’d never seen so much. It was spectacular. We then lay in awe as countless shooting stars lit up the moonless sky. It was like something out of a music video. Seriously, it didn’t feel like real life. I still can’t quite believe that it was.

It was one of those nights where you just couldn’t help but worship.

We changed the playlist to a worship one and all lay there singing praises to our God until the early hours of the morning.

It was a warm night and we fell asleep to the sound of the ocean, waking up a few hours later for sunrise.

We need more of this stuff, spontaneous moments where you don’t think too much. We need to get out of routines and just be. Especially after what we’ve all just been through as a nation. We’ve learnt a new way of living over the last 7 weeks, although it has been hard, there are still things we can take away and integrate into life going forward. We’d be silly not to.

The only trip you’ll regret is the one you didn’t take. It doesn’t even have to be far, if you’re living in NZ there are a million places you can walk to that won’t cost you a thing. Pull out your old bucket list, or sit down and spend some time creating a new one. I guarantee you’ll have fun dreaming about all the things you want to do. When we got home from our New Years trip I went to check off a few things that we’d done. I sat reading all the things I’d already crossed off over the last 10 years and I was filled with gratitude and wonder. There were so many that I’d forgotten. I needed the reminder, although some seasons had been hard, dotted throughout the journey were so many moments of joy. Seek out those moments you can’t put into words.

When was the last time you did something for the first time?

“Today I’d like you to just be”

We had planned to explore Mount Cook for the day before heading up to Christchurch. But as we sat on the shores of Lake Tekapo I felt God gently say “just be, I want you to just be today.”

I wasn’t sure why he said it, but we decided to listen and take it slow. We sat in reverence looking over the waters to the mountains dominating the horizon. We then drove over to Christchurch earlier than expected and bumped into dear friends who we hadn’t seen properly for 4 years.

I had been nervous to go to Christchurch, but instead it was a time of healing, for both our hearts. Brad because he hadn’t been back since he lived there through the destruction of 2011 and myself - because my heart had hardened towards Fiji and my time living there on outreach.

Through a simple message of “today I’d like you to just be” God set in motion the gentle but significant healing of our hearts, in a city where destruction and heartache used to reign but that has now been rebuilt stronger than ever. This day is one I will never forget

Royalty

I recently watched the new Aladdin movie, I ABSOLUTELY loved it. It filled my head all with the bible stories. The images of the city made me realise the context of when Bathsheba was bathing on the roof when King David saw her. It made me think of Queen Esther and how she and King Xerxes ruled over 129 provinces from India to Cush - which stretches from Ethiopia to the Arabic Peninsula.

So often girls are told not to “be a princess” someone who is spoilt, demanding, weak and overall pretty useless. But the actual definition of princess is not this modern idea of a lady who lunches while her servants do the work. The definition of a princess is “the daughter of a monarch” the daughter of a King. First and foremost you are a princess if your father is the King. In the British Monarchy you can only be a princess if you are the daughter of royalty, not just if you marry a prince - if you marry a prince you’re just called a Duchess. A princess knows who she is and she knows who her Dad is - the King. She has a different mindset.

During the latest Aladdin remake (spoiler alert) Princess Jasmine wants to be the Sultan - to be Queen and rule the land. The awesome twist in the remake is that she becomes Sultan before she marries Aladdin. She was strong, courageous and just. Before this happens though she is taken away to be killed, she has this awesome scene where she sings ‘Speechless’ - a powerful song about how she won’t be speechless even when the men are trying to silence her. She sings the words “don’t you underestimate me.” It’s a powerful scene. During it I couldn’t help but think of it as an image of when God’s children stand up to the devil and won’t be silenced as they help the poor, feed the hungry, cast out demons and heal the sick through the power of Jesus.

The definition of princess has been so twisted, something I truly think is the work of the devil. He has been trying to silence woman and reduce princesses to mere spoilt brats who sit around and get lunch. But to me the definition of a princess is the daughter of a King, who is brave and courageous. Someone who won’t go speechless. Someone who stands up for what she believes in, someone who is just. Someone who is a voice for the voiceless. A warrior for her kingdom.

We are called children of God, therefore you’re called to be a princess because your Dad is the King. When we accept Jesus’ invitation to follow him we get a new lineage. Our old bloodline of brokenness is replaced with HIS lineage. The lineage covered in His blood. We are born again into His family. Which means our ancestral line becomes that same line - filled with royal warriors who were brave and courageous. Noah, Joseph, David, Esther, Rahab, Mary, Paul and so many more. Men and women who changed history.

Perhaps you’ve been planted

When you’re in a dark place, you tend to think you’ve been buried. Perhaps you’ve been planted. Bloom – Christine Caine.

Everything fell into place. The hurt, the tension, the pain and misunderstanding of my circumstances, my anger towards God. No, I hadn’t been buried, left to die; I’d been left to bloom. Planted deeper in the soil than I’d ever been before.

He was breaking new ground.

It’s what I’d prayed for, I just didn’t think it would happen that way.

After slipping into a darker depression than I had ever known, I hadn’t just reached breaking point, but gone quite far past that. After a severe concussion I was left physically hurt, mentally a mess and emotionally worse than I’d ever been. At one stage I couldn’t walk, open my mouth, read, process speech, look at my phone or drive. I was relying on medication taking 20 pills a day to get through. It was dark. I spent 3 months in bed, so isolated, anything made me nauseous and I couldn’t control my anger or tears. I had horrible visions of suicide plaguing me day and night. I ran away, twice. I thought I was done with depression 6 years ago, but it was back, sinking its claws deeper into my heart than it ever had before. I was tired of this battle. How could I be back here again?

I was at church and couldn’t bring myself to sing the words “He is good,” I doubted my faith more than I ever had before. But the lyrics of Amanda Cook’s album sung over me;

“some have died here but I choose to live”

I knew the truth in that. I couldn’t let this destroy me. We have lost too many souls to this battle.

My number one goal for this year was to strengthen my relationship with Papa – our God. So you can imagine my hurt when 4 weeks into the year I was diagnosed with a severe concussion, unable to read the bible, listen to podcasts or worship, attend church or even a small group for months. But when everything was stripped away, it meant the only thing I could do was sit at his feet and talk and listen. I had tried to do all the “holy” things when I heard him say “I will take you to a place if you’ll let me” I finally gave in and was taken to a beautiful garden. I reached out and took his hand and noticed my hand was tiny and chubby – as it was when I was five or six years old. He guided me down a path full of daisies and I sat in awe, filled with joy – he knew my favourite flower, oh but of course he did. He then led me back to a room where he was seated on a throne, a huge throne, so large I couldn’t see the top. I could feel the sovereignty of the throne, feel the majesty, but it was simple, just made from a plain wood.

There is an unexplainable complexity to something so simple.

I sat in reverence before he let me climb up on to his knee and fall asleep. I was taken back to being just a small child falling asleep on my fathers knee. I woke up feeling so refreshed. I had been waiting for the big revelation, the voice from heaven, the scroll to appear telling me what to do. But instead He did exactly what I needed, He gave me a comforting message where the simplicity of it all taught me more than anything else ever could. He is my Dad, my Papa, He knows my favourite flowers and He put them there to bring me joy; He is a safe place.

I had a vision back in October 2018 which actually brought more frustration than anything in the last few months. In that vision I saw a dove gliding through the air over the lands, I knew I was the dove and that Jesus was with me. I was loving it, I felt free with so much joy. But suddenly the dove was torn viciously from the sky by a dark, bloody, dirty hand. It then locked the dove in a cage, I could feel its pain, I could feel its isolation. After a time I saw the Holy Spirit swirl in, gold and white – in a way that I can’t describe, but it broke the lock and set the dove free. I was flying again with Jesus and I felt like he said “it is finished, depression is finished.” I rejoiced thinking wow, He is so good and He alone has healed me. I had a great few months over summer with that vision in mind, until I was hit by this terrible concussion in February. I felt just like that dove, ripped from the sky so aggressively; so suddenly.

I was angry and confused that God had given me such hope of freedom but then let me go back to that dark place, even darker than it had ever been. I so desperately wanted to believe the truth my head knew about God and how he is good and trustworthy; but my heart just didn’t get it.

Then three months after the concussion a friend called to say her and her boyfriend had been praying for us. While they’d been praying he had said “maybe the vision wasn’t what God had done, but a prophecy of what was to come.” It was a lightbulb moment. It was so accurate. I had been abruptly ripped from the sky and felt so isolated, but this time I had new help, new understanding. God had given me three different counsellors and psychiatrists who were all working on different areas of my mental health. This time I was doing neuro-linguistic programming, a form of psychotherapy that is powerful. This time things had changed. Tangibly. He WAS healing the depression.

I spent more time underground in the soil this time. But that’s ok. It meant my roots have grown deep, now as I reach the surface I won’t be as battered by the wind but can remain stronger.

Where I am now reminds me of my Duke of Edinburgh final Silver tramp. It was in the Waitakere’s and we stood on the final cliff top and looked back to where we had been three days earlier. If they had told me that’s how far we would’ve walked on the first day I don’t know if I would have been able to do it. I was tired and bruised but looking back I could see that God was with me every step. Through it he had taken our relationship to a new level. To a new level of trust and understanding I hadn’t known and that I couldn’t have known if I hadn’t had such a severe concussion.

Today, for the first time I can truly say, I am grateful for this concussion. Although I am still struggling with symptoms and may continue for a while. I know although God didn’t cause it, he brought good from it. I would never have known that intimacy with Him if everything else hadn’t been stripped away.

The timing had been perfect, Amanda Cook’s new album has just been released and it explains my journey better than I ever could. It walks the road of being in the dark, not able to see the light. It speaks the truth of God’s nature and character, the way He gently heals; if you allow him. The way he is patient when we just don’t understand, the way he brings us to a clearing where we can finally see and breathe again.

He redeems.

“This is my awakening
That while my heart was fast asleep
You were resurrecting me.
I thought that I would never breathe
I thought the pain would never leave
But You're redeeming everything”

If you are going through a journey where you find yourself stuck in a crippling dark place, I encourage you to have a listen and really let the words speak over you, the link to her album is below. You are not alone, He will rescue you - just let him. He is the great comforter. He knows your pain. Tell him how heavy your heart is, He can handle it and He can heal it. This isn’t the end. You can find freedom, I’m living proof.

Feel free to reach out and chat - I’m here if you need.

“To the ones who feel behind,
Still searching for the light
You're not out of time, You'll see”

Amanda Cook: https://open.spotify.com/album/1knRBteR8rH7zMm6vL7hma

We’re made for community.

We’re made for community. 

Years ago our parents had a weekend away on Motutapu Island and started a legacy. 20 years and 27 kids later and I’ve realised the gravity of that.

Our parents created something so much bigger than themselves. Because of their friendship, us kids have grown up feeling supported by a community. We don’t see each other all the time, but we have an inseparable bond. 

Our parents taught us so much. 

We need to do life together.

They’ve been there to toast to the good times and they’ve travelled the world together. They’ve been there to pray and encourage each other in the middle of the night and have held each other in times of heartbreak.

Our generation needs to do this more. It’s about opening up and being real. Loving and encouraging each other and having grace for each other when we mess up; because we will, but that’s okay. It’s sitting down for a meal or having a board game night. It’s planning things together - big and small. 

Let’s change the scary stats, mental health issues are running rampant. Our generation is talking less and being isolated more, but it’s not too late to change this. We need to be there for each other.

We’re made for community.

Billy Graham

23.02.18

Yesterday was huge, the news that Billy Graham passed away really shook me. To be honest I don’t think I’ve ever heard a video of him speak, but I’ve heard stories about him all my life. The weight of what he did with his life hit me so hard I cried. What hit me most is the fact that we need to step up. 

We are all called to fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel like he has - in whatever way that looks like. 

Brad and I had this amazing “Ferb I know what we’re gonna do today” moment (if you didn’t get that reference then I’m sad you never had Phineas and Ferb in your life). Something changed last night. We’d been meaning to hang our artwork for weeks, I finally bought the picture hooks yesterday and it was a huge moment. We hung the words “as for me and my house we will serve the Lord.” As happy and excited as I am, I don’t think we realise the gravity of what that means. 

Maybe someday we’ll look back and laugh about how naive we were as we hung it. 

But I’m excited to see where He takes us next. People often ask what I’m going to do after uni, I normally say “maybe marketing, hopefully photography” and I always hold back on my true answer out of fear of rejection. But here it is and I’m actually going to be honest from now on. I know exactly what I’m going to do after uni (and for the rest of it) and have for a long time; I’m going to do what He guides me to do. I have absolute peace in that. I have no idea what I’ll do, but at the same time I know exactly what I’ll do. 

Soli Deo Gloria - All the glory to God. “Pray for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel for which I am an ambassador in chains.

Pray that I may declare it fearlessly as I should” Eph 6:19-20

New Zealand

Yesterday morning I sat in church just as I have a thousand times, but for the first time something changed; I felt fear. Fear that as we sat there praying with our backs to the door, we were doing the same thing that those innocent men, women and children were doing when they were slaughtered. Slaughtered for their faith and for their family background.

I sat there thinking that half our congregation isn’t white and that many including my husband weren’t born here. That the white supremacist gunman could have done just as much damage in that room as he did in Christchurch.

It’s a thought I never imagined having in New Zealand because it’s “not who we are.”

But then I thought a little more.

If I, someone born in New Zealand, whose parents were born in New Zealand and who has three New Zealand born grandparents has been made to feel unwelcome in this land, then how many others have also been made to feel that way?

I have been made to feel that this isn’t my real home, made to feel left out. I have been criticised and laughed at for my faith.

Because of my brown skin a stranger in the supermarket called me a mongrel. Friends have said to my face that they “don’t like brown people” as I sat feeling incredibly aware of the fact my skin is 20 shades darker than theirs.

So no, at first when we said “this is not who we are” we were wrong. We have been like this, myself included. We have helped spread poison in our land; and for that I am deeply sorry.

But this is not who we have to be any more. This doesn’t have to be our future. Let this be a line in the sand. A marker of the time an entire nation stood up to racism. When an entire nation chose to forgive and not retaliate. When an entire nation stood up to support and love; no matter what.

New Zealand has been the first to do many things, so let us be the first to make a nationwide stand for loving our neighbours. We’re all immigrants, we just came at different times.

New Zealand, we can do this and we so desperately need to.

Half-caste in a black and white world.

Growing up I hated getting tanned. I wore a wetsuit all summer and piled layers of sunblock on top of one another to try stop myself getting too dark. I sat there jealous of all my friends with their blonde hair and fair skin while I sat there with black hair, the beginnings of a moustache and skin that wouldn’t stop getting darker. Even my cousins - who have the same amount of Indian blood, are much more fair with hazel eyes and lighter features.

I was crushed by it.

I lived in Fiji for 2 months but felt even more conflicted there than in Auckland, as I was laughed at by relatives because I couldn’t speak Hindi.

I never knew where I stood. Every time a survey came round I dreaded the “tick one box'“ question. Do I tick European? English? Kiwi? Scottish? Pakeha? Indian?

I cringed every time I heard “so where are you from,” as it so often went:
“Where are you from?”
“Auckland”
“No, like where are you FROM?”
“I was born in Tauranga”
“No, like your parents”
“They were both born in Auckland”
“What about your Grandparents?”
”Three are Scottish/English/Kiwi with blue eyes like my Dad; and one grandparent is full Indian from Fiji. Mum is half Indian so I’m a quarter”

It often made me feel like I didn’t belong in the country I was born in or the country my parents and grandparents were born in. When Dad used to pick me up from school a few kids wondered who he was, not realising it was my Dad.

It’s hard growing up half-caste in a black and white world. I’ve been called a mongrel by a random lady at a shopping centre and been so upset by racist comments from people - even friends, who didn’t know my family background.

One night at church I felt sick, so I sat out the back for a bit. I sat on a couch in the foyer, directly between the European service in the auditorium and the Indian service in the chapel. As the services started the doors to both rooms were closed. I couldn’t help but laugh about the position I was in. It was a metaphor for my life - the doors to both sides were shut, as I sat stuck half way between. Too dark for the European’s and too light for the Indian’s.

Years ago I was waiting on MRI results from an injury and it finally hit me. The neurosurgeon wrote on his findings “I cannot seem to place Sarah into a box.” That was it. That was the answer. Although he was referring to a completely unrelated topic, it was that one little line that sparked something. I finally realised. I will never fit into the box because I wasn’t made for one. There are some things that just aren’t supposed to be one or the other. I suddenly felt so much freedom. I could spend my time being miserable and feeling left out or I could stop trying to fit in and just live.

In the words of a woman who knows this all too well; “so you make a choice: continue living your life feeling muddled in this abyss of self-misunderstanding, or you find your identity independent of it. You push for colour-blind casting, you draw your own box” - Meghan Markle.

We will never fit perfectly into a box, so stop expecting to. The moment I realised this my self-esteem grew like crazy because I began to stop comparing myself so intensely to others. I began to live in the confidence and freedom that I don’t have to be one or the other but can step out every day and draw from both sides of my racial background. Assured that although the pages of my family history are smeared with racism, poisonings, death threats and curses; they have been rendered powerless by rich blessings, love and grace.

We’ve been trying to squash people into boxes for centuries and when we use boxes or labels to judge others, we end up doing the same to ourselves. An unending oppressive spiral, where everybody is left wounded. Where people are more deflated and meek than ever. We were never meant to live suppressed by these boxes.

I wonder, if we take the first step and stop labelling ourselves, how much easier will it be to stop labelling others? I encourage you to take the first step and give yourself the grace you deserve, before taking the second and third and demonstrating it to others.

Martin Luther King Jr’s words are echoed once more, when will the time come when we aren’t known by our race but by our hearts and character?

 

A moment of hope in a season of bitter grief and tragedy

6 years ago today we wept hopelessly after receiving the type of call you wouldn’t wish upon anyone. Dad made the hard decision to go to work, knowing if he didn’t the chopper would be grounded. A close friend drove us girls to Tauranga with Dad planning on meeting us later.

He went to work and they got the call that a man was drowning. Coast Guard couldn’t get there on time, Eagle hovered over the waters and Dad jumped from the police helicopter and rescued him. If he didn’t go to work that day another family would’ve been feeling the grief we were.

A moment of hope in a season of bitter grief and tragedy.

I am so grateful that this mans life was saved; and that Dad could save him. But my heart is in anguish wondering why four more in Kenya couldn’t have been saved the day before. It’s a question I may grapple with my whole life.

I still don’t get it. I may never.

But somehow it was still a reminder that God is good. Even when I couldn’t bring my head to believe it. He gave us a moment of celebration in a time that was wracked with pain. He is still good. Somehow amidst it all; and I am grateful for that.

Remember when?

Remember when you wished you could be where you are right now? 

I've been quite discontent lately watching so many of our friends explore the world. Seeing their stories and adventures has made me dissatisfied with my everyday. I forgot the fact that everyday for the past 5 years I dreamed of this and prayed it could be my reality. To be married to the man I love, to be brushing my teeth next to him everyday, to be vacuuming our carpet, cooking in our kitchen, to be living with him in our own little place. Why are we so quick to forget what we dreamed of when it finally becomes our reality?

There have been so many amazing moments that I've loved, but I've let myself get into the habit of comparison and it's so dangerous. I've been thinking, all these people are off travelling and I'm stuck here cooking dinner and spending 3 hours a day on the bus/train. How ridiculous! I went on more flights last year alone, than the rest of my life combined! I took that photo above in the most picturesque place I've ever been, in the heart of Austria, yet I'm sitting here thinking "everyone else gets to travel and I don't." Or complaining that now I have to be at University, something which I forget is such a privilege and also something I dreamed of! 

So what is it? What is making us feel so discontent when we really have no reason to be? Comparison. 

It's the thief of joy. 

It strips away what we have and only makes us think about what we don't have.

One way we can combat it, is when we see a friend doing something we wish we could do, we can be happy for them. Be positive, be excited with them! Celebrating them doesn't mean you're losing out. Don't let yourself think of the "what if" or the "if only I could do that" the land of "if only" is a dangerous, unhappy and disappointing place to live.

It's something I'm seriously trying to work on after I've found myself becoming increasingly negative about everything. It has been spreading poison to every area of my life. The tiniest thing happens and I lose the plot because "I'm not lying near a pool in Bali" or "this wouldn't have happened if I was working full time like she is." The devil is just doing what he does best, trying (and succeeding) in stealing my joy in any way he can. I'm sick of letting him.

The other day Brad accidentally took both sets of keys to work with him which wasn't even his fault, so (after losing it for a few minutes) I pulled myself together, realised how silly I was being and walked down to the supermarket to get a few things. I'd never walked down before and I deliberately didn't take my phone (which was a big step in itself), so I could force myself to be truly appreciative of what was going on and how beautiful the day was. I started the walk frustrated, but walking back I made myself think of every single thing I was thankful for, big and small. It literally changed everything. All those silly lies I was believing that 'life sucked' faded in comparison to the joy I experienced. Sometimes you just have to force yourself. Start off small, if you can't think of anything, start off with "I'm thankful that I'm breathing" or "I'm thankful that I woke up today" and the rest will follow. It lifts your whole mood and shifts your mindset to one of gratitude. I know it sounds like the cheesiest message ever, but it's way more powerful thank you think. It can lead to a whole new perspective. It has been in these times of 'forced' thankfulness that I have actually ended up becoming truly thankful and saw new things and gained new revelations of God that couldn't have happened if I wasn't thankful.

Back in late 2012 I had decided to start a jar of 'little things' for 2013. I thought I'd start on Jan 1st and read them all on Dec 31st. God knew I needed it because 2013 became what I called the "year of everything" in short, the year of the most intense good times, but the most tragic times I have ever known. I wrote down just one little thing that was good everyday and put it in the jar. This was in the midst of my darkest days of depression where I saw everything through this ominous grey fog. Some days all I wrote was "I got through today" or "I saw a flower" or "someone opened the door for me." It was all I thought I had to be thankful for. Although small, these tiny moments of being thankful changed that year. It was one of the things that got me through when some days all I could think of was ending it all. That is something I am so thankful for. It slowly but surely started killing comparison because I wasn't thinking about what others had compared to me, and it started ruining the devils schemes.

Next time you see something that makes your heart flicker to jealously, discontentment or unhappiness, take control of the situation, don't let the devil have the victory. You don't have to be sad, you can celebrate with the person, celebrate their victory, what they have worked hard for. You don't know what they may have been through physically or mentally to get there themselves. It doesn't have to take away from your own happiness. But if comparison starts to creep in, think back to this time last year, or 5 years ago, or 10 years ago. Remember the times you prayed for the things you now have. Remember them, even if you have to say the same tiny little thing over and over; it's still a reason to be thankful.