2010

This year I want to...

Breathe more deeply,

Give more freely,

Laugh more hysterically.

Remember more birthdays...

Hurt more profoundly,

Encourage more assuredly,

Break in more places.

Allow myself to be beautiful...

Care about the small things,

Release more of the big things,

Enjoy the people I love.

Take some amazing photographs...

Work harder,

Swim faster,

Spend more time by the sea.

Live life LOUDER, by falling more in love with You.

Letter from Heaven

After a short time you will feel my presence with you once again and I will fulfil my promises of grace to you. I will carry you back to the place of freedom and peace. Things may look bleak now, but even if all you see ahead is cloud and darkness, it is sufficient for you to know that I AM GOD and I've got plans for your life. My plans bring fulfilment and richness of life, not disappointment or despair. My plans give hope and a future.

Rejoice! At present you don't feel me with you and where there's unbelief I turn a deaf ear. Then, you will be persistant in your devotions, give up trying to live for me in your own strength, put aside all pride and call upon My name daily, faithfully lifting your hands to Me, until you realise that all along I am listening, that I have heard your heartfelt prayers. You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart.

Beloved, believe that you will find Me, because I am not hiding from you: it is I who pursue you in unfailing love. I ask only for your heart, complete and pure, offered to me in love-surrender so that I may open My heart to you, that my glory be reflected in the unveiled face of My bride.

I will be found by you. This is my hearts desire. Then I will gather you into my arms and bring you home to the place of security, of deliverence. Now, at last, I can fulfil all the promises I ever made to you and you will know what it is to live in fulness of joy.

For Possum

Well, I have finally got around to updating my blog from the last 6 or so months... if anyone is still interested! You might want to go right down to "It's Over" and read from there. Don't be fooled by the dates, as they refer to the day I made the post, not the day I wrote the blog.

This is all for Paula, who continually pesters me to update and without whom I probably would have not bothered at all. I am blessed that she is so much a greater part of my life than my blog.

Enjoy!

Moving On

So its here… time to move on again. I’m feeling a bit mixed. Not quite sure which way it’s going – should be more excited about getting back to Harlesden because it’s always been all about moving there. Should feel better about leaving Pompey behind because there’s never been anything worth staying around for here.

I’ve always prided myself on my honesty – being who I am and everyone knowing that. No masks on this girl!! Sure, it can take me a while to let people in but I’ve never tried to be something I’m not. But then again, I’m realising that who I am is not that straight forward. And as I move from one experience to another, who I am is developing and growing and getting more complicated!! I have had so many different roles in different contexts with different people over the past few years that it’s not really that crazy that I should have a couple different versions of myself. In fact, people have commented on my ability to fit in with all kinds of people, and just a brief poll of my friends shows a considerable variety. I love that!! And am so thankful for it, because each and every one of them adds another amazing dimension to my life.

But I’ve never before felt like I’m living two different lives. I’ve never felt split in this way before… not quite sure if my old friends will get the person I’ve become, or my new friends really understand the full extent of who I am at the core. I like the new confidence I’ve found, the friends I’ve made, the way I’ve lived my life while I’ve been at home… but I’m unsure about how it’s all going to fit when I move back to Harlesden. Because will those people be expecting the Susie from a year ago? How will they deal with the girl she is now? The differences are probably subtle but they are there, even if no one knows exactly what they are. Is there space for them without judgement? How are these friendships going to feel now? How much can I share?

You know sometimes and you just want to curl up in a hole and sleep until the sun comes out again, and things seem a bit easier? Yep, that’s right where I’m at. But I shouldn’t have anything to be worried about… should I?

Broken

I am a woman. And there is a part of me that’s broken.

It’s a really small part. So small that I can hide it away in the deepest place within me. So small that I can forget that it’s there, and that it’s still broken.

But it’s the smallest things that bear the most potent poison… manifest in a single question, the brokenness resonates upwards through the many layers of complexity that comprise my womanhood to subtly taint every aspect of my being. The question is simply this… am I enough?

The core of my very existence is crippled by this one doubt… As it permeates my life, it fractures into an array of variants. Am I enough to be useful – am I needed? Am I enough to be valuable – am I wanted? Am I enough to be enjoyed – am I desired?

I hate neediness – often to the point of contempt when I observe it in others. It makes me feel so uncomfortable. I have been told that the things that frustrate or annoy you in others usually cause that reaction because they are actually a problem within yourself. And if there is one thing I seek, it is to be useful, to be needed. If I am needed there is less chance of me being rejected. In order to understand my role or purpose, I have to validate my presence within any kind of circle by being a useful, contributing member. While on the surface this is a constructive aim to have, the motivation of avoiding rejection leads me to cultivate independence. It is important for others to need me, but for me to need others (particularly if they DON’T need me as much) is a sign of weakness. There’s too much hurt to risk in not being needed.

In striving to be needed all the time, I have struggled with the concept of being wanted. By that I mean wanted for who I am not what I do… To just be, in a friendship. Not to function in any other way but to be me. To be loved. My God of grace has much patience with me, and has been turning my heart round to the idea that just maybe I am enough to be valued, worthy of His love and interest. I haven’t the faintest idea why that may be, except for an inkling that it’s the great mystery of Love. Allowing this Love into my life has begun to seal up some of the fractures caused by this question. I have begun to heal, to be restored. I can now accept love where I don’t understand it.

Of course, to love is to risk rejection, and often to suffer it. So I can only love to the degree I have allowed this Love to re-build the broken parts within me, to strengthen me against the fear of it all coming crashing down, of rejection – the ultimate answer NO to my question.

Still causing me trouble is the last one – am I enough to be desired? Am I beautiful, am I lovable, am I enough to stir a passion? Some say the time has not come yet… you will not get your answer until it does. Yet I still seek it! Waiting for a husband is not the solution, as my hidden brokenness is crying out with a fervour that demands to sated… ignoring it does no good. There have been those that seem to offer an answer, but so far not one with enough integrity that I can lean into and be supported in the full knowledge of acceptance. Yet still I seek it, at times with almost a single-mindedness.

I know where I should get my answer

“The King is enthralled by your beauty…” Psalm 45 v 11

Now the question is…
Do I believe it?

Cards

A major part of my job has just become selling credit cards. I know... I'm supposed to be working in a ladies clothing dept. Go figure. I was supposed to be a Christmas temp, just tidying up clothes and watching the fitting room BUT all has now changed.


Firstly they have realised how awesomely amazing I am. To be fair to them, it didn't take long. So they have decided to put my awesome amazingness to good use, and train me up for the tills and the account card. I was quite keen for this, because let's face it, even 4 hours a day tidying clothes gets a bit much. On Mega days I did get to hand out leaflets, but that also is annoying after about 5 seconds.


However, part of me is wondering what I have let myself in for. I now have targets. TARGETS! To open one card per day I work. I don't think we have enough customers for us all to reach that target. More like one a week... In an effort to mobilise the workforce into reaching these lofty aspirations, we are now expected to spend at least half an hour every day "clipping", which basically means we have to walk around the shop with a wadge of application forms on a clipboard and pounce upon our blissfully unaware customers, who happen to be perusing the exciting range of ladieswear we have on offer, and try and convince them that their life will end if they don't open a store card with us.

"Hello madam, how are you this fine day? I was hoping to extol the virtues of our wonderful new reward scheme with you... all you have to do is hand over some very personal information so the bank can run a detailed credit check against you, and soon you could be earning not only more credit-induced debt but also great value reward points that are only valid in our store. And once in a while we will hold an exclusive 20% off day, so you are encouraged to buy loads more things than you really want or need purely because you get a discount on that day. Would one be interested in such an arrangement? Yes? Wonderful, sign your life away here please..."

Ok, so my main problem is that I am morally opposed to pressuring old dears into opening new credit cards during one of the worst economic crisies in history. Sorry, I just think that's wrong. But my managers think that it's because I don't like approaching people on the shop floor. Clearly I don't have an issue with that! So I am having to bite the bullet, put on my fakest smile and chat my way through the LONGEST half hour in the world every day. I have developed a couple of avoidence strategies... being 5/10 minutes late to take on the clipboard is sometimes workable, especially if you are in the middle of a big job and loose track of time; jumping on the till during busy periods is the lesser of 2 evils; helping a customer on a non-account card related issue can kill a lot of time, especially if you have to go down and check for size options in the store; sometimes you are lucky and land one of the sweet old things that wants to talk the hind leg off your donkey - of course you don't want to be rude, do you?!

At the end of the day, I don't need to agree with everything in order to do the job. Especially when I'm just after some short term cash, not looking to build a managerial career. But it makes me wonder where you draw the line on such a question...

Pompey Life

Whenever I meet a new peson and I'm introducing myself, I always answer the question "Where are you from" with some reference to Portsmouth. I grew up here. I was born in St Mary's hospital, have lived here all my life (except for the couple years in Brunei, right up until uni) and I still refer to it as home, even if that is out of habit more than anything!!

When I was a teenager, I developed a disdain for Portsmouth that grew to the point that I couldn't wait to leave. I seriously could not think of anything worse than becoming trapped into a life centred around this city, which I saw as one of the most depressing places in the world (clearly I had not yet been to Dungeness...). I'll admit there was probably a good portion of teenage melodrama shaping that particular worldview, but nonetheless, I was looking for my first ticket out of here...

Thankfully that really wasn't too much of a problem, as my priviledge and wonderful parents practically entitled me to go to university. And my academic success meant I could go pretty much anywhere. Naturally I didn't even consider Portsmouth Uni, and ended up in Egham, of all places, at Royal Holloway. But that's another story (or maybe even an epic serialisation...?). As I grew older and had more opportunity to travel and visit, even to live, in other places around the world I found my distaste for "home" melting and gradually being replaced with, dare I say it, a fondness?!! Maturity has brought with it an understanding of the value of where you came from in shaping where you are going next.

Imagine my surprisethen, when I realise that after 25 years of believing that I came from Portsmouth, and even more than that, understanding what it means to come from Portsmouth, I actually have had very little to do with the city. I lived over the hill in Waterlooville or Cowplain, as did most of my friends... I went to school in Havant and then Chichester, and I always seemed to work nearer Southampton. In reality, the only time I went down into the city while I was growing up was to go shopping or to the cinema, or going to church with my parents in the dockyard. On such occasions, we would be in and out as quickly as possible!!

The past few months have been somewhat of an education in "Portsmouth". Working in a retail environment in the heart of the city, travelling in and out every day on the bus... it has opened my eyes to what Portsmouth is really like. I have made friends, people that I care about, that have lived less than half an hour away from me my whole life but have this completely different experience. And I am now convinced that the best way to get to know the character of the area you live in is to work on a shop floor!!

The funny thing is, to be brutally honest I haven't been that surprised at what I have seen... it's just the first time I have actually experienced it myself, rather than assuming. BUT what has knocked me for six is the way I feel about it. From hating to indifference to a degree of fondness, my journey is now moving on to a level of compassion and love that I would NEVER have expected. The way I see my city has changed, and the people who live there have become part of my life. For the first time I have become involved, and I care about it in a way that moves me. So now leaving will be that bit harder...

Friendships... Are Better Than Normal Ships.

Today I got a text right out of the blue from my friend Chelsea. It was more a surprise than your average random "Hey we should meet up!" because Chels is American and had significant problems with her visa last time she came to the UK (stupid immigration people) and I didn't even think she could come back here. Yet here she was... in Southampton of all places and free for a coffee! How incredible...

Seeing her again after over a year got me thinking about friendship. I realised I have quite a high expectation of friendship... sometimes it's quite unrealistic! As I move through life and bat from one place to another, I have collected a variety of friends from different circles. It always seems to be time to leave some behind, or time to get to know someone new. Both of these are incredibly daunting tasks, involving no small amout of risk and vulnerability. Yet I know how essential these relationships are to me while I try to cope with life...

I am a people person. I love to be involved with people, to get to know them, to share with them. And one of my love languages is quality time - so I tend to feel closest to the people I spent the most time with. It's maybe a bit ironic (or unfortunate? or interesting?) then, that my life tends to lead me back and forth between different groups of friends every few months. How do I view the friendships that I don't get to invest time in?

There are obviously those that are a fundamental part of my life - I can't imagine ever not being friends with some people and don't really consider that we would ever loose touch. However, there are many more I would love to spend more time with or keep more up to date with... but life just doesn't stretch that far!! It's these friendships that continually amaze me. Some you think are pretty solid but eventually end up just drifting away into nothing, until you become as good as strangers and there's little hope of reconnecting - those make me sad in a way I don't feel sad about anything else. But it's part of life I guess, everything has it's season. Learning to let go is as important as learning to hold on.

But for every friendship you have to let go... there's one that endures in the face of whatever seperation life's lottery calls in, and continues to bless and enrich your life despite distance or circumstance. These are the ones that yield untold joy in my heart, at the most unexpected times. I can never tell which friendships will stand the test of time in this way, and I think that part of the joy is that surprise when you discover another one :)

Falling Falling

A few months back I was looking at this website with my friend Tessa. It’s called ASBO Jesus and has loads of cartoons on it, mostly trying to make some amusing but deeply satirical point about how the church relates today. There was one that I initially reacted against, it was entitled “Stepping Out In Faith” or something like that and was a little cartoon stick man falling off the edge of a cliff. That’s not cool, I thought… having faith in God doesn’t mean you fall off a cliff. When you step out in faith He’s always there to catch you. I pointed this out to Tessa, and she suggested that falling off a cliff is exactly what it feels like sometimes. In hindsight, of course we can see how God works out situations in our life but the reality we deal with “in the moment” is not always what we can tangibly attribute to our perception of safety and security.

So now, about 9 months later, I’m sat here thinking about my life and what I want it to mean, and I remember this cartoon. And I understand it. Over the past few years I’ve had some pretty out of control experiences… some up, others down, some were by my design, others not exactly my first choice of valley to walk through. For a while it felt pretty non-stop, like I never really had time to come up for air. All the way through I’ve been learning about trusting in God… what that means in many different ways. Taking risks, in faith, has been a big thing that I’ve seen, faced and grown through. I even preached about it once!! Yet in this moment I sit and feel the most like I’m stepping out over the edge of a cliff. Because I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen…

Spleepy

So I’m back in England… wow it’s cold!! Thought we were still in summer here people? August? A bit of sunshine too much to ask??

Oh well, the glories of the motherland…

So I’m staying with my parents for the foreseeable future. Bear in mind that my future is only really foreseeable about 2 weeks ahead at a stretch currently. More like 2 days, 2 hours most of the time. I probably could/should make some plans, but that would involve a degree of alertness and the motivation to get off my bum and be a little pro-active. What with still being well and truly in the clutches of jetlag, I don’t think that’s an option yet.

I learned something about myself while I was away (phew – not a waste of time then ;)) and that is that my coping mechanism for stress is sleep. Whenever there is something that’s too complex to handle, I fall into this state of lethargy and physical exhaustion which results in me moping the days away in-between naps and long periods of doing nothing.

Some days I have made it through til bedtime without falling asleep, but on others I manage to sleep for 5 hours during the afternoon. It doesn’t seem to matter how well I sleep, or what time of the day/night it is, I never wake up feeling refreshed and my energy levels expire at the mere thought of doing something productive. I’m too exhausted to make any decisions or sort my life out, which has been put on hold in the most abrupt manner by my return home to a very-much-still-in the-process of being redecorated room, lacking not only curtains and a carpet but also a proper bed.

There are many people I should be catching up with… loads of really valuable and dearly loved friends who are (apparently) dying to see me and hear ALL about my trip. Which is awesome. Except for the completely overwhelming fact that I don’t know what to say. Where do you start explaining what you’ve been through, how do you even begin to communicate what you’ve seen and who you’ve met and how that’s changed you? I don’t know if I can… I don’t know if I even know that yet…

How can I describe the friendships I have left behind, the memories I have made with people I might never see again? The places I have loved and hated, the struggles and the joys that God has pounded my heart with…?

I’m feeling tired. I think I’m going to have a nap…

Home Sweet Home

Spent about 10 days of 2008 in UK so far… and nearer 4 months in Indonesia!! That’s 1/3 of my year… God certainly has written that country on my heart during this time away, although not sure what that exactly means!!

In this time I have mostly been...

• reading Irresistible Revolution (should be canonised) and Isaiah – there’s some amazing stuff in that book!;
  
• eating rice and tuna, and Cha Chas (fake peanut M&Ms – they saved my life out there!);
  
• listening to Robbie Seay Band, Newton Faulks and Shane&Shane (Give thanks to the Lord for He is good…);
  
• watching Greys Anatomy (yup that rights Bodes, right there with ya girrrrl!) and Lost Season 3;
  
• travelling in boats – speed boats, slow boats, fast (6hr boats) and overnight boats. If you ever need any advice about going on a boat journey in Indonesia, I’m your girl (but do yourself a favour and just don’t!!);
  
• living life without email and texting – surprisingly refreshing;
  
• learning to speak Indonesian, still a loooooooong way to go!!
  
• visiting the doctor – ear aches, infected knee, gastritis and stomach cramping – I was there a lot!
  
• realising my actual rubbishness in the face of the awesomeness of God, and how amazing it is that I can know Him despite that, how intensely He loves me still and desires to use me maybe even because of my weakness.
  
• having my heart break over friends that don’t know this and desperately need to!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh that’s pain, right there!!
  
  And now I’m back. England, are you ready??!

Reflections on an Island Paradise

I managed to get through 8 weeks on Hoga without writing one blog, so here is a little summary of my time J

Daily schedule would involve 2 or possibly 3 dives… I was normally on science dives, which basically meant supervising the students underwater, making sure everyone who was meant to be on the boat got on, and the same number of people got out of the water that went in… ensuring the boat left on time (easier said than done with certain science staff!), filling out all the paperwork and seeing that everyone followed OpWall rules. So Susie the Divemaster had to get a bit no nonsense!! Another fun part of the job… radio duty! Not every day but on a rota, we would have to sit by the radio in case of an emergency. Always a lot more fun when Ali came and played guitar…

I lived in the same little pink hut that I shared with Chrissie 3 years ago! Except I had it to myself this time – which was BLISS after sharing with 5 of us on Nias (sorry girls, I love you but… personal space!). And my own hammock J and my own bathroom!!! Overlooking the boat bay, and caught some gorgeous sunsets.

The welcome I received from my Indonesian friends was amazing. So humbling… I was hoping they would remember me but didn’t expect such excitement! I have had wonderful opportunities to deepen existing friendships and start new ones… spending time with the kitchen ladies especially, as previously most of my friends were guys. The generosity of the Indonesians is incredible… both in the way I never needed for anything, however small, and the way they opened up their hearts and lives to me. I felt so much more comfortable hanging out with the local staff than I ever did with the westerners…

Anna B was a saving grace… as was Bridget! I miss those girls!! It was interesting to observe the interaction between the Westerners and the Indonesians. It had clearly changed since the last time I was on Hoga. 3 years ago there were a couple of western staff who made an effort with the locals but generally the two groups were quite segregated. This year it was almost a popularity contest with some people… who is the most “in” with the local staff?!! I didn’t really like that attitude, it felt really fake and it frustrated me. However, I feel that my friendship was considered genuine. I spent a lot of time with Anna, which was very cool and I feel I have found a little sister there – someone who maintained my sanity on numerous occasions!

Right in the middle I had a period out of the water – very frustrating when you are living on an island totally focused on diving!! I came off a motorbike with a friend on our way to a BBQ on our day off – got a friction burn across my whole knee. Stubbornly continued to dive on it, and it got infected – gross!! Took a while to heal up – about 10 days, which is a long, long time on Hoga. While that was going on I also suffered from another bout of gastritis, which meant I was up for about 3 nights with stomach cramps, puking up bile. Wonderful fun. Thankfully there was a clinic and doctors on site… I had the joys of 2 injections in the bum which left me with a lovely bruise. The funniest thing was the contrast in western and Indonesian treatments. I will never forget Dr Tri’s insistence on my prescribed diet… “Rice, Susie! Have you eaten rice? Why not eating rice Susie?!” Didn’t you know – rice is the answer to all medical ills!!

Leaving Hoga was the most traumatic experience. Mostly because OpWall offered to extend my contract a further 2 weeks til the end of the season. I really didn’t feel ready to leave and so jumped at the chance… in the end though, I couldn’t change my flights because it was such short notice. I left the island planning to do the first leg of the journey in order to buy extra time for the change to be made but it didn’t happen. Excruciating, because I hadn’t said goodbye properly in my heart, and so I felt I had been wrenched out from the situation with no closure. Hard, hard, hard.

Annoyingly I lost my camera on the last day... so I have no pictures for you!!

Hoga's Calling

I'm nervous... but in that really excited way!

Back in Bali, about to start the loooong journey back to Hoga. Don't get me started on the amount of boats and planes I will see in the next 48 hours... but it'll be worth it. I've waited 3 years to be back here!!

It's just dawning on me that I'm actually going to see these guys again... Arif, Ade, Azrul - and his baby girl!! Not to mention Pips and John... Last time I left I didn't even know if I would get the chance to come back, so this is really special. The edge of panic creeps in... what if they don't care that I'm back? Oh, don't be so silly. Go to bed, you've got a long day tomorrow.

It's over...

Wow – it’s time. DTS is over (what?!) and my plane leaves tonight. How do you say goodbye like this? I’m at the end of myself. I don’t want to leave these people, I feel like I’m just getting to know some of them… guys the last few moths have been AMAZING. Thanks for everything you have put into them, because you have all touched my life. This time will not only impact the rest of our lives, but will reach out into eternity, and I am deeply grateful for each and everyone of you. I LOVE YOU!!!

Say Hello goodbye

Our last night on Nias was pretty exciting. We headed into Teluk Dalam to Herman’s house to have dinner with his family (lobster – he owns some lobster fishing boats, yum!!). His wife Tety was about 2 weeks off her due date, and despite plenty of pleading on our part, we had resigned ourselves to the fact that baby would be staying put until after we left. When we got to their house though, Tety was in a lot of discomfort and was pacing around and couldn’t sit still. We had to go and run a Cell Leader’s meeting, but at the end of the evening we had some frantic phone call from Herman because he needed the car we were using to take Tety to hospital.

We were still a little unsure as to what was exactly going on, as no-one ever actually said that Tety had gone into labour, and also everyone was fussing around with really worried looks on their faces, completely opposite to the reaction you would expect if a baby was on the way!! Anyway, we eventually got a ride home and went to bed full of anticipation as to what the morning would bring.

I woke up that morning about half an hour before I had intended to get up, with that particular feeling of sicky butterflies that I always get when I have to say goodbye to someone or leave somewhere. We still had a bit of packing to do and a car arrived to take our bags to the airport, but not before a wonderful phone call from Herman telling us that Tety has had her baby and it’s a little boy!! Woooooooooo!! Extra special J So we got to meet baby Jessa (named after Jeremy, who missed the birth by going to his friends wedding in Jakarta) on our way to the airport. It was so amazing to actually see the baby but it also made it so much harder to actually get back in the car and drive away. Leaving Nias was very emotional that morning!!

Presents

Even though Teluk Dalam is not really the poorest area of Nias, our friends don’t have much materially but they still managed to give us endless gifts, usually random bits of jewellery and such. Two presents, however, really stick in my mind…

On our last evening at cell group they gave the three of us matching shirts, the same pattern in different colours. Mine was bright pink with yellow trim and 3 huge yellow flowers on the front with big plastic bling centres. It has to be seen to be believed. Jade’s was white with black trim, possibly the easiest on the eye, and Reba’s was all Christmassy in red and green trim. Not only did we have to look really excited by these, we had to put them on and have about a million pictures taken with various members of cell group. Plus they insisted that we leave a copy of those photos with them so they could always remember them…!! I haven’t worn that shade of fushia pink EVER in my life, despite futile attempts by Tessa at uni. Trust the Indonesians, hey?!

We were in the village on our way to pray for our man with the paralysed legs, and my friend Tipan gave me the most beautiful Cowrie shell I have seen in a long time… it was black freckled and really shiny. I totally wasn’t expecting anything, let alone something so lovely, and was quite taken aback at first. Then I turned it over only to discover that there was still an animal inside!! Ummm, Tip…!!

Confusion ensued as I tried desperately to suss out what Tipan really expected me to do with a live slug in a shell – suggestions from the Indonesians were to eat it (I don’t think so!), to leave it until it smelled (I think that meant to wait until it died), to take it away with me in my pocket, or in a bottle of water… they didn’t really understand the concept of not taking live animals out of the country. All the time I was trying to explain that these options were completely impractical, I was acutely aware that Tipan had given me a gift to remember him and was so unsure as to how any rejection of the shell would cause offence to him. In the end I agreed to clean the shell once the creature had died (despite actually wanting to leave it in the nearest rock pool) but when I looked for it in the hole I buried it in (so as not to stink out our bedroom) it had mysteriously disappeared.

Jungle Family

I feel it’s only right to include a note about our jungle family. They are the family who owned the losmen we stayed in, cooked our food and were generally awesome. Moris and his wife Matiana have 3 ADORABLE children Endi (boy aged 7) Seralin (girl aged 4) and Alfek (boy aged 2). Moris spoke really good English from years of business with the boulehs, and used to come up and hang out with us when we were chilling. He was pretty funny too… it must be said!

It took a while for the rest of the family to warm up to us – I think we were always objects of curiosity for the children but it wasn’t until the end of the trip that they really seemed comfortable with us. Alfek was the cutest thing (cuter than Legato? Hmm… maybe!) and used to run after our car every time we left shouting “Dada dada” (means bye bye) with his plump little legs and toddler excitement. One time he pooped his pants right in front of us. It was a pretty surreal moment, but hilarious as well – a weird look came over his face and all of a sudden there was a little pile of poop by his feet. And he just stood there, obviously not so sure about what to do. Awwwwwww!!

Saying goodbye to our jungle family (Moris used to call his kitchen a jungle kitchen in Nias jungle, hence the nickname) was possibly one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in a while. It’s funny how much of a relationship you can really build without even speaking the same language. I really miss them!!

Dwi

Dwi was a 4 year old girl who had malaria. When we first met her, she had already been really sick for about 4 days. The family didn’t have any money to take her to hospital, so she had been running a fever for that time with no medicine. She was wrapped up in blankets, just lying still and gazing off into space, not responsive at all. Pretty much the only thing that showed she was still with us was her awful teeth grinding!! I seriously thought she was going to die right in front of us…

We took her to hospital and organised a prayer vigil through that night with the young people from the church. It was a pretty confusing time for all of us on a personal level, wrestling with a God of compassion and mercy with a healing nature yet seeing this sick little girl not getting any better. Once she was in hospital and they diagnosed malaria and put her on meds, and then she did start getting better – but this meant that her mum took her home and interrupted the course of medication, so she quickly went downhill again. We visited her again in hospital and it was harder because we knew that mum had taken her to see a witchdoctor that afternoon. Apparently according to this guy there was a demon on Dwi’s back that had made her worse, so her mum was in a right state by now! It was so frustrating. I can’t really explain it. Jade and I both felt God asking us to stay the night in the hospital, so we set up camp bedside and prayed through the night. It was still pretty confusing, extremely heart wrenching and completely exhausting but God taught us a lot about not having the answers and still believing in his promises.

It wasn’t resolved while we were on Nias. The next morning the mum still wanted to take her home and even though we paid for a few more nights in hospital, it really didn’t look like she was going to get any better, but all we could do in that situation was pray.

Painting

So for 2 days we set about cleaning up and repainting the concrete banisters surrounding the steeple of the church (which bizarrely was set next to the church and not on top of it). It was a fun time really, although hard work and also lots of sacrificing and submitting to the Indonesian way of doing things! From the colour (blue and yellow) to the neatness (paint drips and smudges everywhere) I was continually reminding myself that it’s their church, not mine, and I have to give up my idea of how it should be done and what it should look like… it was an interesting challenge for someone who is a bit of a control freak and perfectionist!!

It was a really fun time to build relationships though, and I seriously don’t think I laugh as much with anyone than with Indonesians…

Medan

Halfway through the outreach we had an opportunity to travel to Medan, the capital of Sumatra, to serve at a Pastor’s conference that was being held there. I thought it was a pretty sweet idea to begin with, but when it was time to go we had just begun to get to know everyone properly and it seemed like really bad timing to leave Nias then.

The journey was pretty long, lots of driving and an overnight ferry. The roads in Indonesia have no law!! There were a few times I thought we were going to see our Father face to face!! But we survived and got to Medan on schedule. We stopped at Lake Toba on the way up, which is a huge lake in the crater of an extinct volcano… awesomely amazing. We stayed on an island in the middle of the lake and it blew my mind trying to imagine what that place has been through from the beginning of creation to now. It was so huge, and thinking about it full of larva or erupting was insane!!

I didn’t like Medan that much. It was big and dirty after the calm of Nias. We stayed for about 10 days, as after the conference ended 5 of us had to fly out and back to Kuala Lumpur for a visa run as we were on 30 day visas. We slept on the floor of a church on squeaky foam mattresses with one stupid fan (with a timer that switched it off after 3 hours, not what you want in the middle of the night!!) and far too many cockroaches keen to share our beds. It was a bit frustrating because we thought we were going to serve the conference but in reality there wasn’t really anything for us to do except sweep the floor each evening (and truth be told we probably didn’t do this very well!). We sat in on the conference every day and got a lot of sweet teaching on leadership, and we went to the plaza every night and had Starbucks so we could use the internet. I found myself singing back up vocals in worship one morning, in Indonesian. How did that happen…?!

We did quite a bit of travelling that week. As well as getting there and back, Bree, Becaa, Jade, Paul and myself had to make a random trip to KL to get new visas. It was quite annoying but KL airport is one of the best airports in the world, with free wifi and really comfy seats, so I figured that it would be fine – a chance to catch up on major emails and skype my parents at a normal hour, plus a fairly good chance I could find a comfy place for a nap. It turned out though, that we were flying Air Asia, into the Low Cost Carrier Terminal, rather than the international all-singing all-dancing one we were expecting. On arrival we found only MacDonalds and a REALLY expensive coffee shop (which sold me the most disgusting cup of peppermint tea I have ever tasted) open, no seats to sit down on let alone stretch out on and most annoying of all was that the wifi didn’t work on my computer (it seemed to work on other people’s, but not on mine. Typical). I was not a happy camper!

The journey back was interesting… we first endured an overnight road trip all the way down Sumatra to the port, before getting the “fast ferry” across to Nias. Of course as it’s Indonesia, nothing is really “fast”, and this trip certainly wasn’t speeded up by the guy on the boat who insisted on taking our passports away to photocopy them. After a lengthy argument over whether we need passports for a domestic ferry trip (Kodan didn’t even have his, as he never left the country!!) I refused to let him take any of them away from us, and his superior sorted it out. What a faff!

Praying For The Sick

Part of our time there was spent going into the more traditional villages surrounding Teluk Dalam and praying for sick people. Sometimes we went and it felt a bit weird, like they were more interested in meeting some white people (they call us boulehs (bu-lay) which translated is a reference to our long arm hair, apparently!!) than actually seeing God move in any major way. Sometimes they weren’t interested in God at all, and wanted us to answer questions or sing for us (yep, singing is big out here!).

There was one family in particular, who we visited on the first week. The father had been paralysed for three years – we couldn’t ever work out what exactly caused it but he had lost the use of his legs and with that any hope of supporting his family. They had been to visit the witchdoctor (sadly for a “Christian” island, they still put an amazing amount of faith in the traditional tribal medicines) and the treatment he had administered had burnt a huge scar on this mans right leg, that started in the shape of an S. We prayed for him and God spoke to a couple of us about persistence and we decided to visit him every week to pray for his healing. At the beginning we were all hopeful we would see him walk, and even though that didn’t happen, each time we visited we saw small steps of improvement which were so exciting. First he started getting feelings and pain back into his legs, then they were worried that someone was cursing them, so we prayed for protection over the family and later that week he saw an angel in his house!! About half way through he managed to sit up on his own for the first time and by the time we left he could wiggle toes on his right foot!!!

I felt a peace that this was going to be a gradual healing which we probably wouldn’t witness the end of. I think God wanted it that way so He would get the glory in that village, not us – which is completely absolutely fine with me!! The first time we prayed God told me that the sins had been forgiven and the healing was done, so I have ever confidence that his health will continue to get better and better until he can walk again and support his family.

The most amazing thing was seeing how encouraged and supported the family felt by our commitment to them, and feeling how much closer to God they were by the end of our trip. It’s funny how we have our ideas and agendas about what we want to see happen, and how often God has completely different plans!!

Favourite Indonesian Words Beginning With M

In no particular order:

Mimpi (dream)
Mungkin (maybe)
Monyet (monkey)
Makasih (thanks)

Snorkelling

I was a bit disappointed when I saw the reef. Having had a certain idea in my head about Indonesian coral reefs and what they should look like (from Hoga, not that that helps explain anything if you haven’t been there…) Sorake beach was a bit of a shock!! Since the earthquake, the whole island had lifted up and most of the reef was now dead and sitting above the water line (except at really really high tide) Because of the waves pounding against the reef wall it was pretty hard to swim close to where we were staying BUT further down the beach there was a crack in the coral that created a cleft between the rocks where the water was clam and clear, so we went there a couple of times. It wasn’t really big enough for a good swim but nice to float around in, and sometimes just getting wet was enough to make you feel better!! Not that many fish due to the waves and the deadness of the coral but I guess I have 7 weeks on Hoga to enjoy that later on J

Cell Groups

On the other hand, cell was sweet! Jade and I were lucky, as a lot of the people in our cell were the guys that hung out with us anyway so we could really build up good relationships. Tipan could translate as well, so we were always really involved in what was going on, and every week they asked us to share from the Bible (usually with less than about 5 minutes notice). Kardin, Sayangi, Dara, Meli, Berkat, Jeni, Fanolo, Yasman, all became a really special part of our time in Nias. More than that though, God really put a burden on me for the cell groups as a ministry… it was so cool to see how He brought through my experience in cell at uni and while working for St Johns to benefit the work on Nias. I had been feeling for a couple of weeks that I would like to do some kind of training/envisioning for the Cell Leaders, as they had only been running for about 6 months so everyone was quite new to the idea, and I was getting really excited at the potential for growth there. I spoke to Jeremy, my leader, about this and that night we were at a prayer meeting with the cell leaders and Herman (our contact – the youth leader we were working with) asked Jeremy if the team could do any leadership training for the cell leaders… so God spoke pretty clearly in that moment and I was given the chance later on to run through some training based on the Fusion cell values we had used at university.

Church

Indonesian church was an interesting adventure. Every week we attended cell groups, youth group, prayer and worship meetings and church. Church started at 7.00 on Sunday morning, and was the only thing that wasn’t translated for us. It was a special youth service that was attended by about 500 young people and usually went for about an hour and a half. And I had absolutely no clue what was going on for 97% of the time.

It reminded me quite a lot of Brazil… lots of energy and they love singing in worship! Randomly they took a collection twice every service – I never worked out why. The sermon was always given by a pastor from the church who was generally of the sombre yet shouty variety. Sometimes we were asked to contribute but not always with a lot/any notice. I usually looked forward to the end because it was always hot, and I was always hungry (we didn’t have breakfast until after church!!).

Legato

Legato was our monkey. She wasn’t actually ours, but belonged to a local restaurant owner who let us babysit her for the 7 weeks we were there. She lived on our balcony and there was a rumour that she was bipolar…

Most of the time she was cute as a button. Still a baby and SO affectionate, her name in Nias language meant “leech” – not quite so cute but she did attach herself to you with incredible force for such a wee thing. She responded well when you picked at her fur, going into an almost trance like state which usually ended up in sleepy time for a while. And that was the CUTEST thing (Jade: ”So cute I could punch her in the face” – these Americans are violent!). Until she woke up and peed… I was a particular favourite for toilet time it seemed, but I think it was because only I really held her long enough to go to sleep and thus wake up on!! I caught on to that particular habit quite quickly.

Gradually she got more confident and bit by bit better at climbing around on stuff. After some adventures in the roof chewing through the electrical wiring we restrained her on the lead a bit so she would stay safe. I found it kinda hard having a wild animal tied up and restricted from doing what it would naturally do anyway but it was the sad truth that it was for her protection. Occasionally (when she had been good!) we would take her for a walk on the beach, which was always fun! She got demanding though, and would freak out every meal time because she wasn’t getting any attention. This really high pitched screaming/hissing noise would start and she seriously looked like a toddler having a temper tantrum. She would jolt like she was having an electric shock. The funniest times would be when she threw herself on her back, sprawled out on the ledge and then fall off landing on her head on the floor!!

Nias

Soooooooo… We arrived!! All good things come to those who wait, and Nias would certainly be classed as one of the beautiful places in the world’s great masterpiece. Sorake is a famous surfing beach, with one wave in particular that is world class (apparently!). We are staying right on the beach, in a losmen consisting of 2 rooms with a shared balcony overlooking the reef. There is a large wave right opposite us but since the earthquake in 2005 the island has lifted up and the coral is now exposed above the water – it means this wave breaks too shallow to surf safely, although it’s still pretty cool to sit and watch! Everyone now surfs the next one down the reef, which we could also watch from our balcony.

We will be working with the Lutheran church in a town called Teluk Dalam (the BKPN) where there are a LOT of young people but sadly due to culture they are expected to conform to and respect the traditions of their elders. Obviously this is not resulting in a particularly relevant church environment for the youth to grow closer to Jesus. The problem on Nias is that everyone claims Christianity but hardly anyone knows Jesus (it sounds quite similar to England at some times). Kids grow up going to church but not having a relationship with God and currently the church doesn’t seem too interested in discipling the younger generations into a genuine and transforming walk with Christ. In this context, a guy called Herman who is clearly filled with the Holy Spirit and burning with God’s passion for the young people of Nias has started a youth group, cell groups and working as closely as he can (is allowed to) with the church elders to introduce the kids to Jesus in a meaningful way they can actually engage with and find ways they can express that in worship and fellowship. We are basically going to be supporting this work as much as we can, mainly by building relationships and investing in the kids while we are there, and by sharing what God has done in our lives.

We took the first couple of days to settle in and meet everyone. It’s quite intimidating as in Indonesian culture the girls and boys don’t hang out together in the same way we do, and girls also tend to be a lot more reserved and shy. I got really frustrated early on because it felt like we shouldn’t hang out with the boys because it wasn’t “culturally sensitive” but the girls were never around, so the girls on the team ended up just sitting around talking amongst ourselves. Later on though I could see how it was more just a case of getting to know us, and I made some really good friends with both guys and girls (although it would be fair to say I got to know the guys better because they would come and spend time at the losmen with us). By the time we left I know they had stolen a part of my heart, and I know that I genuinely would miss them. It was such a privilege to even meet them in the first place, and they welcomed us in as part of things so completely and wholeheartedly.

I didn’t think a chronological account of my time there would be so interesting, and as I’m going to be posting all this at once anyway (due to lack of internet access on Nias) I have picked out some highlights in the following blog entries.

Enjoy!!

The Road Goes Ever On And On...

Our flight was due out on Friday 21st March from Brisbane, travelling to Medan in Sumatra, Western Indonesia, via Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia. We were due to arrive in Nias from Medan on Sunday. However on arrival at Brisbane airport we soon discovered that due to technical difficulties our flight had been cancelled and we would have to spend the night in a hotel in Brisbane, catching the next flight to KL in the morning. This turned out to be a MASSIVE blessing as one of our team had managed to leave her passport and ticket on the lounge floor at our house on the Sunshine Coast (approx and hour away!!). My goodness me, we would have been stuck if the plane had left on schedule!! As it turned out we had a fantastic treat, sleeping in a 5 star hotel for the night with our own rooms and showers and didn’t have to pay a penny (or cent, I guess – we’re in Australia after all…) Check-in the following morning was a bit hectic just because we had a couple of sticky moments with all the different visas the team were on. It was sorted out ok though, and because it took so long to sort out it meant our huge amounts of excess luggage were waived through without being charged, which was a huge blessing. With the missing passport safely delivered courtesy of the Africa team (who were leaving that morning too) we were finally on our way to Nias!!

Little did we know… As we boarded the plane we noticed that our flights had been routed through Penang inbetween KL and Medan. That was quite annoying as it’s effectively going up just to come back down again, and an extra flight to cope with. But it wasn’t until we got off the plane at KL and started looking for the gate we would board to Penang that we realised that the date of that flight was the next DAY!! Brisbane had omitted to go through the new flight schedule so hadn’t told us we also had a night over in KL. According to the desk there, the transit hotel was full and so we had to get a taxi an hour into the city and stay again in a 5 star hotel for the night. Oh the trails of outreach!! Thankfully this was all courtesy of the airline as well, so we just enjoyed our luck and I got to have roti canai for breakfast J

I think we were all getting slightly weary of airports as we got on some tiny planes first to Penang and then Medan. Arriving at Medan airport was once of the most overwhelming experiences as you are literally enveloped by baggage porters and taxi drivers once you get through security. Thank you Jesus that we had people meeting us who took care of every little detail, as all the travelling and faffage was definitely getting to us!! Jenni and Mulia were our angels!! Because of the re-route through Penang we had missed the afternoon flight to Nias, so we found a hotel (a little on the expensive side but it’s only one night, right?) and then found we couldn’t buy tickets to Nias until Tuesday (it’s Sunday at this point, so no, actually it’s going to be 2 nights) and had to move to a cheaper one on Monday. After spending a couple of days in Medan we arrived early Tues morning to catch the plane to Nias… only to discover that Becaa and I had to wait for the second flight as there wasn’t enough space on the first one. By this point even little things that weren’t a big deal were feeling really stressful…! But eventually we got on the little 30 seater with plastic flowers adorning the stinky toilet (as if they would make it smell better or something?!) and a worrying white mist pouring down from the ceiling the whole way (Becaa: “I thought they were trying to gas us!”) and about an hour later arrived at Nias airport in Gunung Sitoli. This was when we learnt it was a 4 hour drive to Sorake Beach on the south of the island, where we would be staying…!! Hahaha!!!

Here We Go...

Introducing the team…

Jeremy and Reba (fearless leaders/mum & dad)
Jade Anna Banana Lemonhead
Bree (Cali surfer girl)
Becaa Boo (my Canadian roommate)
Kodan (Sunny Coast surfer boy)
Paul aka Foreman (think That 70s Show)

And myself :)

Last Minute Annie

Well, I got most of my outreach fees about 4 hours before we left for the airport. My friend was so matter of fact about it… “oh, well I have $1300 you can have, if it helps!” It was sweet because the difference I can pay nearer the end of outreach once my tax rebate has cleared… what a lesson in how God works!!

Twin Day

Today is Twin Day. We had to dress up as twins with someone else. I went with Bree, dressed up mostly to look like her. We looked good. I got compliments all day because I straightened my hair and it looks so different!!

We have an unfortunate guest in our house. A mouse is living in the wall in our kitchen. Gross!! The most upsetting is that Becaa and I woke up this morning at 4 to find it running around in our bedroom, euuuuuuggghhhhhhhhhhhh!! One of the most frustrating things about living in a community house is trying to keep it clean, as there are so many people always messing it up. But our house is particularly bad at keeping the kitchen clean and leaving old plates and food around, so it’s little wonder we got a mouse (I actually think it’s a rat, as it was big and black, but fear for Becaa’s sanity should I suggest this!!)

I don’t want to go to sleep tonight. Ratty in my bedroom is not a good alarm clock.

Team Indo

Outreach is one week and counting!! Crazy. I’m excited, especially after such an awesome prayer week, but also not really sure what we are going to be getting up to. I know we are going to be staying for 7 weeks on Nias, an island off the west coast of Sumatra. We then have a week at the end on Bali before heading back to Australia at the end of May.

So the final preparations are upon us… as are the final payment deadlines. I found out that I am now the only member of the team that hasn’t got the $2000 ground fees. This leaves two options – if I can find $350 for my insurance and the team agree, I can still come and the rest of the team carry me, which will mean a stretched budget and probably missing out on some travelling around towards the end of the trip. Otherwise I can’t go. Mortified by the situation (especially as I wasn’t originally put on the team anyway) I find some comfort in the immediate response that leaving me behind is not an option. But that leaves me in a very uncomfortable position for independent grown up Susie to deal with, firstly not feeling like I can contribute towards the trip but also feeling like I am causing my team to miss out. It’s a very humbling place to be in, and I can see how God is working through it to break my pride and self-sufficiency. I am also having to rely wholly on His spoken word to me that He wants me to go to Indonesia for this trip, as the circumstances are not exactly supporting this view at the moment!!

Feelings of guilt, inadequacy, almost cheating are creeping in… I confess with my mouth that God is sovereign over all situations, that He wouldn’t call me somewhere and not provide for me, that he is more than capable and WANTS to bless me so that that I have more than just enough to get by, in order that I might be generous and bless others. But in my heart the doubts start to whisper – what, has He forgotten you? Maybe you got it wrong… obviously you can’t hear Him as well as you thought you could… maybe He doesn’t even bother to speak to you at all!! The voice of the accuser echoes around my head, speaking words of deceit and distraction in to the situation that will inevitably lead to death – death of a dream, the quenching of the flame of intimacy that is growing in my soul, the crumbling of confidence in my communication with and trust placed in my Father in heaven. And it’s all lies. I know that, so why do I listen??

... and Diamond Dust

Over the week we spent time looking at the gifts of the Spirit, and praying into and for those that we either thought we had or those we desired to have! Across the 30 odd students on the course there is a wide range of experience with this kind of thing. It was an amazing privilege to pray for my roommate and watch her receive the gift of tongues!! And an even bigger surprise to find that I was given an interpretation of a tongue spoken corporately one night, when I have never desired that gift at all. Random, but ok!! Whatever God has for me, bring it on! I don’t want to miss out ;)

I can be a bit sceptical about the more bizarre manifestations of the Holy Spirit, probably because I don’t have much experience of them and tend to be more suspicious of the unknown and untested. But since when is God completely known and testable?! So when they first start talking about diamond dust, my initial reaction is, hmmmm… not sure. But as soon as people started praying for those who didn’t have it to receive it, I figured why not? If it’s not of God then it won’t be a big deal, but if it IS then I don’t want to miss out! A post-prayer inspection of my palms did indeed reveal specks of glitter on my skin where there had been none previously. Apparently it’s a sign of anointing, a gift from God to His church, a manifestation of the presence of the Holy Spirit… I’m not sure what it is but I do believe it is from God and it’s kinda cool – pretty sparkly fingers!! I find a great encouragement from it, especially when I notice it during the day when I might be more distracted with other things going on. I’m not sure we are supposed to have all the answers, and I think that retaining and celebrating some of the mystery that surrounds God is an important thing. For me, at this moment, the diamond dust shows me how I can’t figure God out, how creative He is, and how generous – I only asked once, and I got it. So it helps me with all those other things I have to ask many times for, it helps me remember that God hasn’t forgotten.

Pentecost...

So, as always, God was faithful to His promise. We waited, and the Holy Spirit did indeed come with power. I would consider myself to be of quite a charismatic persuasion, albeit from the Anglican church, but I don't think I have ever had a week with the Holy Spirit quite like this one...


The momentum was building from the beginning. A strong theme of the school has been Freedom, and this was certainly continued through Prayer Week. On Tuesday night we were challenged to face up to our fear of Man... first to admit it and then renounce it. Later on in the week we talked about obedience (i.e. doing everything that God asks you to do, and doing it when He asks you to!) and this was then tested by a challenging time of worship where God asked some of us to do some crazy things to honour Him during that time, and to break this fear of Man. Mine wasn’t such a weirdo request, but it was so hard for me.

As soon as we started, I felt God wanted me to play the djembe, an African drum, with the worship team… now I have really sucky rhythm when it comes to hitting things, and I really didn’t want to have to join in the worship team and start playing an instrument I had never touched before. So I didn’t. I just stood there trying to make excuses for myself. I actually couldn’t shrug it off, I was so sure that it was what God had asked of me in that moment. And I felt AWFUL. So hideous that I couldn’t even step out and do this one little thing. Everyone else was experiencing this incredible freedom in worship and dancing around and calling out crazy things but I was stood in the corner feeling miserable, on the verge of tears because I knew that I was being disobedient. However hard I tried, I couldn’t enter into that spirit of worshipTo make things worse, after a while someone else started playing the drum.

I saw so clearly in that moment that God will raise up someone else to fulfil His purposes if you are not obedient to His call. It’s His plan after all, and it’s a privilege that He chooses to use us not a right… if we choose to not be involved then He will still accomplish His plan, using others. The only one who misses out on blessing because of your disobedience is you!

This realisation broke me. For a moment I thought it was ridiculous to get so upset about a stupid drum, but I knew that if I couldn’t get up and do what was actually a very small thing in amongst a room of people who know me and love me, then bigger challenges that would come later would be impossible. And I didn’t want to miss out!! I didn’t want to be holding back from God, I wanted a piece of everything that He had for me in that moment. So weeping tears of regret and frustration I asked Him what I could do to make this right. Would I be able to try again? Or had I really blown it?

Almost immediately I heard it, that still, small voice in the depth of my soul… yes, of course you can try again My child, but this time you have to confess to the room first… so I went up to the microphone as soon as I could and shared. I felt so stupid, but also really humbled and encouraged. I knew that it was a first step in actually breaking the hold that other people’s opinions of me has over my life. And of course the whole room watched me as I hit that stupid drum for the first time, knowing that I was scared but watching me as I found a new freedom, and celebrating with me in the graciousness of God.

Hallelujah, grace like rain
Is falling down on me again
Hallelujah, all my stains
Are washed away, washed away

Mary Of Bethany

Every time I have done a 24-7 prayer week, it’s been a special time. There is something about pressing in to spend time with God that blesses your life… especially when you are part of a group or community that is setting aside time to do this together. I would encourage anyone who has never experienced it to give it a go!

Our prayer week consisted of corporate prayer and worship times from 8 – 12 each morning (when we would normally have lectures) and then 10-12/1ish every night. In between these times we were divided into groups of 4 to take 2 hour shifts in the prayer room through the day and night. My shift was from 4-6 am every day, which meant I had practically no sleep the whole week!! It was amazing how much strength you got from prayer though - at the start of the week I was falling asleep in my sessions but by the end I was staying up all night to watch the sunrise!!

My first couple of prayer slots were fairly low-key. I was expectant but felt God really impress on me just to wait on Him and spend time with Him, rather than coming into this with a whole heap of preconceptions or even worse a shopping list. Of course there were things on my heart that I was concerned about and needed to present to Him during prayer, but I felt that this week was going to be about more than just what I wanted, and that it was going to be important to lay aside all of that and spend time seeking His face. The next day we had a talk on being like Mary of Bethany... you know the old story about the sisters Jesus visits, Mary and Martha. Martha is busy in the kitchen while Mary sits at Jesus' feet... Martha complains about having to do all the work herself and asks Jesus to tell her sister to help. Jesus' reply however, is this "Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." Luke 10 v 41-42 This spoke to me so much, because it really helped to clarify what I had been chewing over, that God's first request of us is to spend time with Him. That is what He loves above and beyond anything else that we might do or achieve... He desires worshippers rather than worship. I was indeed worried and upset about many things, but I knew that my priority was to spend time with my Father, drawing close to Him in intimacy, and that everything else would follow on from that.

"Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about... you will recieve power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." Acts 1 v 4&8

Random Beach Day

On Saturday I was invited out for the day by a random family from the church YWAM rent office space and lecture rooms from... it had come about because we had been talking about how it's been a bit of a bubble here and I hadn't actually meet that many Aussies while I have been here. So the very generous offer was extended to me to join them and 2 other families for a beach trip to have a genuine Aussie family experience on the Sunshine Coast.

So I was picked up at 8 in the morning and we set off about an hour north to this spectacular beach only accessible by 4 wheel drives. It was reminisent of Fraser Island, with less devil horse flies (this time we used the wonders of insect repellent), and a beautiful clear blue day.

It was quite awkward, I'm not gonna lie. There were a young married couple my age but they had just been through quite a hard time and so were pretty subdued and kept themselves to themselves... next down were 2 teenage girls who DEFINITELY didn't want to be there on a "famiy" day (far too cool!!) and then there were about 6 boys under 12 yrs, who obviously didn't have much to say to me!!

Despite this, I had a really nice day. I was quiet and the adults definitely picked up on this, but it was no reflection on how I felt about the day, I just needed to have some time where I could just sit and be looked after in a different space to my house!! I also really appreciated spending time around families again, and conversing with older adults which is not something we get much opportunity for here! A lovely time of refreshment.