Purple Frangipani

Meet

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Wed, 15 May 2013 12:50:00 +0000

We all come together, 7 young women, in the middle of the week.
To share lives together for a few hours on a Wednesday evening.

From many different backgrounds, but all at similar stages. Young women, finishing study or just out into the work force, without families or couple commitments. Press the button at the door, and the door buzzes open at the same time as a muffled "Hello?" is heard, because they know were coming. We all tend to turn up at the same time, call greetings up the stairs.

Settle down on the miss matched lounges, in the small flat in the inner West. Clearly furnished by parents extras and hand-me-downs from friends, the typical living of people just starting out.
Catching up on the week, laughter, friendly ribbing's, exasperated sighs about things we can't change.

They all drink tea, and I'm the odd one out with my glass of water. They discuss the different blends, allow the tea to seep in two tea pots, one green and the other with blue and white stripes. Someone pulls a sweet treat from their bag, baked if we're lucky, or bought if we ran out of time.

Then we settle down, pull books out of our bags. They all look different but contain the same ancient truths. Some books are small with creases and cracked leather that are falling apart, some have pieces of paper tucked in specific sections, one translation has Mandarin characters alongside the English words.

Heads bow for a moment as we open in prayer. Then the ancient but oh so relevant words are read and discussed. We ask big questions, and don't always have the answers. Opinions are tossed around the room, sometimes agreed with, sometimes puzzled looks follow a comment. We discover truths we hadn't realised before, or had forgotten for a while. Some of us have been reading this book since we came into this word, others didn't even know it existed until a few years ago.

We encourage, rebuke, teach, learn. Always seeking truth and Life.

We've been brought together, to this place, by the Author of this Book.

And He meets us there.

Wail

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sat, 11 May 2013 13:17:00 +0000

There is a little girl with golden brown curls, sobbing her heart out. Barely five, she wails loudly, clinging to her mother. We all feel her pain as we stand around heart broken, and she is young enough to not be ashamed of her sorrow.

Only 2 hours ago the great grandkids had gathered out the front around the coffin. An informal circle. Reached out tentatively to touch the wood. "Pa's in there." they said. They were ushered to their seats by their parents while their minds tried to grasp life and death at the front of the church, as we got ready to celebrate his life.

And now the little girl had suddenly realised they were taking her great grandfather away and he was never coming back. Her father leads the grandsons who carry the coffin on their shoulders out of the church with a faded collection of medals on his chest. Grown men with crumpled faces and vacant eyes.

They carefully place the coffin into the hearse and stand there, while we stay on the steps clutching each other with tears streaming.

I don't think my tears have stopped since we first walked in and I saw the coffin out the front. There isn't sobs, just a steady stream of tears. Shouldn't they dry up some time soon?

I know Pa is happy, and rejoicing with his Lord.
Yet the missing him aches.

Oh God, isn't it time for heaven yet?

Full house

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Mon, 06 May 2013 08:56:00 +0000

Pa had 5 children, 11 grandchildren and 17 great grand children.

Most of them are now here, in my Uncles house, waiting for tomorrow when we say an official goodbye. Add in all the spouses and it makes for one crazy busy household.

Lounges are pushed up against the wall, extra tables and chairs borrowed. There are 4 tables for eating arranged around the house. A queue to have showers. Large communal meals with 10 conversations going at once. So much food that disappears so quickly. Some people I only saw recently, others I haven't see for years. Squeezing past, and accidental bumps. Moving suitcases from one pile to another as we try to find our things. It is loud, and crazy, and overwhelming and beautiful.

It is a testament to Pa, that we are all here. That he made sure he knew all of us, and was interested in our lives. He wasn't a grandfather who sat in his room and only sent cards at Christmas. Each year he did a the tour of all his children spread out around Australia, spending a month or more at each of their houses. He would call all the grandkids at random times, always wanting to know how life was treating them. He genuinely wanted to know.

So we all made the trek, the opposite direction to the one he took. To be with those who knew him best, to remember and to celebrate.

My family, how do I explain it? Even though it might be years between seeing each other, there is a relaxed familiarity. A shared understanding. We know the time we have together is always short so we pack as much laughter and stories and being together as we can.

Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him. Children born to a young man are like arrows in a warrior's hands. How joyful is the man whose quiver is full of them! He will not be put to shame when he confronts his accusers at the city gates.

Psalm 127:3-5

Autumn

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Thu, 02 May 2013 23:14:00 +0000

This time of year is just lovely to be in Sydney. We are being blessed with one of the best Autumns I remember.

There is a bit of a nip in the air of a morning, enough to warrant an extra few minutes under the covers before I get out of bed. I pulled out my favourite cowboy boots last week to wear one night when I was heading into the city.

But it is still warm enough during the day that I'm not wearing the dreaded layers. A t-shirt has been just lovely during the day and not much more than a cardigan is needed 'just in case'.

I would be more than happy if we kept this weather all winter long, haha. I know that's wistful thinking, but I'm enjoying it while it lasts.

Remembering Pa

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Wed, 01 May 2013 12:57:00 +0000

A phone call at 7am is rarely a good sign.

When the night before there had been another phone call that said "things didn't look good", you know what the conversation will be before it occurs. You mind knows what is going to be said before you pick up the phone.

I called him Pa. We all did. All the grand kids, and he had many. To the great grand kids he was 'Old Pa'. To many others, he was simply Ralph.
He was the figure head of the family. In the 10 years since we lost Nana, he was always there. No matter how many times his health faulted, he was still always there.

I don't want to remember him as he was the last time I saw him. So thin, his clothes were hanging off him. Hearing so gone he didn't even try to pretend he heard you. The bony cheek when I kissed him. I don't want to remember how scared I was when I saw him sitting, in a daze while our crazy family laughed and talked around him.

Instead I remember . . .

The video of me when I was less than 2, and stuck under the dinning room table. I was crying and trying to get out. Nana was all encouragement and coaxing, 'Come on sweetie, come on.' and in the background you can hear Pa proclaiming sarcastically "Well, don't go in there!"

The night Josh and I spent in the caravan on their property, Ralda, before the house was built. Pa complaining that we kicked and he couldn't sleep. Then in the morning he would pretend to steal our breakfast, laughing that we were too slow so he deserved to eat it.

It was Pa who taught us how to make a chippie sandwich. White bread with lots of butter, plain potato chips. Yum, greasy and salty, soft and crunchy and so, so bad for you.
He use to steal those as well.

Pa teaching me how to ride. Bindy, the grey overweight pony. And Bronze the large gelding. I have no actual memory of him riding, though I know he did. But he put up with my crazy mixture of overconfidence and fearfulness with horse riding. He taught me that you should always learn how to ride without a saddle, as it means you can keep your balance even if your feet fall out of the stirrups. So for a long time I rode bareback, learning how to grip with my legs and nudge with my heels.
I remember how that came in handy years later when I went on a trail ride with a friend, and they put me on a horse who took off, how amazed the instructors were when I kept my seat, though the stirrups went flying.
He taught me how to tack up, how to hide the halter when you are trying to catch the horse, how to stand you ground even when they come charging at you.

I remember coming home on the bus from the local school when we lived with them for a few months. Pa waiting on the side of the highway to let the driver know where to drop us off. Pa taught scripture at the local school, and so many of the big kids were hanging out the windows calling "Hello, Mr Fowler!" and asked me with an impressed voice "Is that your granddad?!" And I stood proudly and corrected them "That's my Pa."

I remember how he and Nana would always walk arm in arm everywhere they went, he would keep her steady. And how I hoped that someday, when I was old, I would have a relationship like that - where you still walked arm in arm even after 50 years of marriage.

I remember, after Nana died, when Pa came to live with our family. He would take himself all over the place, to visit friends and to different appointments. Mum had to be careful what she said when he was around, because Pa would get ideas about things he could do to help us. Like the time that she mentioned we should prune the tree overhanging the washing line then came home the next day to find half of the tree gone. "Well you said you wanted the sun to get to the clothes." Pa reminded her. Or when she was concerned about backing out of the driveway because the fence opening was so narrow, so he found the sledge hammer and knocked a few bricks out.

I remember creeping out into the hallway when I heard him praying. Pa would pray out loud for hours at night. The teenage me, who wasn't ashamed of eavesdropping would sit and listen. I liked to hear him pray, he always had such certainty that God was there and He was listening. Often he would pray thank you for something that hadn't happened yet. How amazed I was at the audacity Pa had to assume that God would answer his prayers, to not even ask, just say thank you that God would do it.

Going with Pa into the city on Anzac day. With his coat, his hat and row of medals. I never saw him march, but to walk alongside him in the city, with strangers holding doors for him, saying hello, offering him seats. Oh how proud I was to walk alongside him!

The phone conversations, that were never private. Even if you hid away in your room, I always had to yell everything down the phone 3 or 4 times before he heard. Coming out into the lounge room where friends were killing themselves laughing because they had heard every repeated sentence.

Pa would stay with us when it was just Joshua and I, after Mum and Dad moved away. He would ring up and organise it, telling me "Don't tell your mother, because she'll worry" but he always told her before we did anyway.
Joshua and I taking it in turns to drive him different places.
Being sure that he must have built half of Sydney, because no matter where we were he would point to a building and say "Oh, yes, I worked on that one."
Freaking out that something would happen 'on our watch'.
Walking alongside but one step behind, as he grew more and more frail and hoping I would be able to catch him if he fell.
Hearing all the family goss while he stayed with us, and wondering what exactly he said about us to the rest of the family.
Listening to stories I had heard 100 times before.
Knowing that each time Pa visited at least one night he would say after I came home from work; "You don't really feel like cooking, do you?" and we would either get Chinese or go to the Blacktown RSL because it was his favourite.
Coming home from said RSL, and the next day finding all the food in the fridge that he had pocketed; tiny packets of butter, jam, sugar and bread rolls.

Feeling so scared when Pa was staying with us and had a 'turn' and I took him to my doctor. Mum made me go in with him because he probably wouldn't hear half of what the Doctor told him. I remember almost dying of embarrassment when the Doctor mentioned that his blood pressure was high, and Pa just calmly told her "Well, just sitting next to you gets my heart rate up." He got away with so much flirting, because he was old and gentlemanly with a tip of his hat and a smile. I just now realised I will dread the next time I see my doctor, because she will ask smiling 'How's Ralph?' and I'll dissolve into tears.

Pa pressing money into my hand whenever he would see me, after he became too frail to stay with us, and I saw him when he stayed at Mum and Dad or my Aunts and Uncles. He would always call me into a room privately and slip it to me with a grasp of the hand (as if we all didn't know he was handing out cash), with a kiss and a "Buy yourself an ice-cream."

Pa looking with wonder at something I had sewn, pretending to be interested in the construction of a dress or skirt. Then pulling me into a sideways hug, and say with tears in his eyes, "Your Nana would be so proud of you."

All these ways, this is how I will remember Pa.

90 years, not a bad innings.

Moving on

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Mon, 29 Apr 2013 08:45:00 +0000

At the beginning of the year, for a range of reasons, I changed churches.

I had been at that church for effectively 15 years, grown up there. Family churches where you spend the majority of your life leave their mark. They were my family, my tribe.

I went back for a visit this weekend, to join in the mission fundraiser. I was expecting to feel like coming home.

There were lots of hugs, "So good to see you"'s and such a good chance to catch up. But it wasn't home. There were people who will always be important to me, who will continue to have a big part in my life. But it was no longer my place.

I have made the step into a new place. Things are still new, but it will be my new tribe soon.

Miracle

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Thu, 25 Apr 2013 21:30:00 +0000

Its been a few years since I stopped saying 'when'. And its been a while since I stopped saying 'if'.
I don't know if I am finally beginning to trust and know God is in control, or I am just beginning to stop hoping.

Because every time I have been sure that God is saying yes, I've had the rug pulled out from under my feet. I don't understand. And I really want to understand.

A few years ago God brought an amazing woman into my life, who has become as dear as a sister to me. A week ago God gave her an amazing answer to prayer, a prayer I prayed at their wedding.

A tiny little girl, completely perfect and adorable.

I go over after a few days to help out.
I am so grateful that they let me come over, invade their newborn space, to share in the gift. Even just a little taste of the sweetness is a blessing. I am so thankful to them.

How amazing to think you can care so much for someone so tiny and who you just met.

I give the miracle a cuddle. She falls asleep against me, and I drink in her sweet new born scent. Her breaths are tiny, and with a little snuffle she lifts her head close enough for a quick kiss. For a moment I close my eyes, and cry out to God, "Oh, Lord, please."

People Watching

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Wed, 24 Apr 2013 13:20:00 +0000

A mother and child wander along the path in my direction, both with black caps and sunglasses and a small toy car in their hands.
They pause for a long moment at the building site and the boy points and jabbers, looking up every now and then to check mum is still paying attention. They move on to a piece of grass hunting lizards in the trees.
The Mum settles on the ground, and points at things in the grass.
The boy wanders a few steps, then goes back, leaning in for a cuddle. The Mum unconciously reaches up and then puts her head on his shoulder for the briefest moment before he pulls away and takes a few steps again.

Care package

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Tue, 16 Apr 2013 12:00:00 +0000

A little care package I sent off to a friend whose husband is away doing his training for the Air force.
She had been sending off one to him each week, and I know she had been finding it hard at home so I thought she might like one as well :)

A little tricky to see but it included some magazines, chocolate, nail polish, cake-pop cook book and a small container full of verses.

It's still a bit weird for me to think I will have a friend in the armed forces - it had always been so far removed from my world. Makes me so much more aware of things going on in the world that could lead to a conflict that Australia may send soldiers to.

Baby Sewing

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sun, 17 Mar 2013 23:40:00 +0000

I haven't done much sewing lately, but the babies popping out everywhere at the moment is a huge inspiration to me :).

During my Christmas holiday I made this little set for a friends soon-to-be baby girl.

Who can resist a tiny ruffle butt? Not me! Especially when it's paired with a matching butterfly top/dress :)
The top is just a cylinder of tiered fabrics with a shirred top half and little straps. For the nappy cover I used this pattern. It was really easy to do - if I had known how easy it was to make nappy covers I would have made many more by now!

Then when I was looking for a baby shower gift that would go with the sleeping carrier/bassinet I had already bought I decided to try out the snuggler pattern I had found.

This was really easy to put together, I used minky on the inside - super soft for a tiny baby to snuggle under. And with a pocket for their feet and Velcro closures it makes it easy to wrap baby even if Mum and Dad are so sleep deprived they can barely think straight.

And for another baby who we didn't yet know the gender of I made a gender neutral giraffe print snuggler.

The only thing cuter than a tiny baby in a ruffle butt? A tiny baby wrapped in a giraffe print sunggler!

The Point Preschool

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sat, 16 Mar 2013 10:35:00 +0000

There is a collection of preschools in Sydney whose websites I stalk regularly to see if there are any open days I can visit.
One of my favourite thing about the Early Childhood community is the willingness to share ideas and learn from each other. A good teacher is always wanting to learn, find new ways of doing things, discussing with other teachers how they do things.

When I saw that The Point Preschool was having a sustainability expo on I knew this would be a fantastic opportunity to check out the amazing things that they do. My cousin is also an Early Childhood Teacher so we had a fun day out.

The Point Preschool is so beautiful - lots of natural elements, outdoor areas and child lead learning. I loved their outdoor space - it's on the smaller side, but with lots of little areas for the children to play, hide and explore. There was a sand pit with a natural teepee, a bush tucker garden and a veggie garden.

Inside there were several examples of how the children draw have developed ownership of the preschool, books the children have helped illustrate and write, self portraits, and lots of documentation.

I picked up a few different ideas that I will be taking back to my class to help with developing a high quality early childhood experience for my children. Visiting other high quality preschools always makes me really inspired and raring to get back to my classroom and try new things.

My dream is one day I will have a classroom that will inspire other early childhood teachers, and be able to give back to the community that is teaching me so much.

Baby Shower

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Fri, 08 Mar 2013 11:37:00 +0000

My gorgeous friend is expecting her first baby in a few weeks. What better way to celebrate than with a gorgeous Baby Shower!

Since Pintrest has appeared those of us who like to be creative have stepped it up a notch with parties like baby showers. The amount of time one of us mentioned 'Got this idea from Pintrest' during the set up was slightly hilarious. We love Pintrest!

A range of people helped out making all the bits and pieces, so I can't take credit for all the things I posted here :). The shower had a book theme - which lead to a whole lot of cute food with book labels next to them.

I organised the 'Decoreate a Onesie' activity. I put out blank onesies, fabric paint, ribbon, fabric (with fusible webbing already attached), buttons. I had printed a few examples for people to use as inspiration if they would like but most people were really creative and came up their own original designs. There were some really lovely shirts and oneies for Janices baby (we know it's a girl) to wear at some day. I also included some tags for people to write their name on so they will know who created the outfit.

My favourite thing of all was the cake. Ages ago Janice sent me a photo of a cake which was a pile of books with a baby on top.

We tried to find a baby from a cake shop but it didn't work out, but I think this was better. Their nick name for the baby is 'little bird' so when I was trying to work out what to put as the names of the books we came up with the idea of doing a little time line of their life so far.

It is the first time I have covered a cake completely with fondant and was so so happy with how it turned out. (Except for the pages that were a bit messy but pretty good for a first try) It's a little hard to tell, but the cake ended up pretty big, almost 30cm long and 20cm high, 3 layers of yummy chocolate and vanilla cake goodness :)

The afternoon was lovely - so excited for Janice and was excited to be able to play a part in celebrating this new stage of her life!

5K - Done!

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sun, 10 Feb 2013 11:26:00 +0000

I did it! Today was the Color Run, so amazingly fun!

Yes, I just called a 5k run fun. Ok so I didn't run the whole way (Maybe half - hard to tell, took walking breaks). Considering the training I've been doing I really thought I would be able to run a lot more than I did, so was a little disapointed with myslef but my friend was awesome, stayed with me and patiently slowed to a walk when I couldn't go any further :).

At 4 points along the course there were 'colour stations' where you ran through and were pelted with powder colour. I would have loved a few more colour stations, as it would have kept the motivation up a bit - but at the end you all have little packets of colour and can throw them up in the air (or each other, haha), which gave you a few more colours to show off.

The end result was very colourful! Colour gets everywhere! My hair had crazy coloured splotches on it - luckily it all came out. Though not all the colour on my body washed off, have a few weird splotches that will take a few more showers to get rid of I think.

Totally going to do it again next year! And I think I might try and sign up for another 5k later in the year to try and keep up my motivation to train. But for now I'm going to have a long soak in the bath - my legs are SORE.

10 years ago

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Wed, 06 Feb 2013 10:56:00 +0000

Today when I opened up Facebook a new message was waiting for me.
I opened it and read a conversation with people I didn't recognise. After a bit I realised it was a conversation in regards to 10 year high school reunion.

Really, 10 years??!

Where did the time go?

I went back through the history of the conversation, trying to get clues about people I can kind of remember from their tiny, fuzzy profile picture. Many of the girls have different last names and I'm trying to work out who is who. There are mentions of kids and weddings, of living overseas or interstate, some people have clearly kept up, others seemed to have drifted out of contact.

I'm not exactly sure I'll go - its being planned for later in the year so don't have to think about it right now. High school seems so long ago, it's like a hazy bad dream full of people I can barely remember. The people I wanted to keep in contact with I have, as for the others, will it be worth the angst to find out what they ended up studying and how many kids they've had so far?

Reading

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sat, 26 Jan 2013 11:22:00 +0000

With my extra long Christmas holidays :), I have been doing a bit of reading which has been so nice. I hadn't really read a book for months, so working my way through several books has been a real treat.
Some books I've been reading;

Katie by Clara B. Miller

This is an older book, my Aunt lent it to me to read while I was visiting her. It's the story of an Amish girl who comes to understand grace and what real faith in Christ means, this leads her to be at odds with many people in her community.

This book was very different to many of the Amish books I had written, I think because while it is classified as fiction, the author grew up/lives in the Amish community and states that much of the story comes from her own experiences. The Amish in the book are depicted as real people, rather than idolised or described as caricatures which happens in most Amish fiction.

A really lovely, thought provoking but easy read.

Zora and Nicky: A Novel in Black and White by Claudia Mair Burney

A little while ago I came across the blog called ereader girl. Often Amazon will list Kindle books for for free for 24hrs, this blog links to ones that are free that day. I check it every now and then - normally their fiction is the usual Christian Romance that I try and steer well clear of. (I am more likely to look at their non-fiction, they often have simple/natural living books for free listed). But randomly they do have some really interesting books; a nice way to try different authors for free.

Which is a long winded way of my explaining how I came to read this book which I probably wouldn't have otherwise read - the description and reviews intrigued me. Nicky and Zora come from completely different worlds, though both are pastors kids. They meet each other at a Bible study and meeting each other causes both to question their beliefs, prejudices, faith, family culture, understanding of the world and what God wants from their lives.

This book is beautifully written, one of the first book in a long time that kept me up until 2am devouring the sentences. The characters are unflinchingly real - so real I often felt like grabbing them and shaking them and telling them to stop being so stupid. My only real concern was the time line - the whole book takes place over 4 weeks, completely unrealistic in my opinion, but it is fiction I guess.

Choosing to See: A Journey of Struggle and Hope by Mary Beth Chapman

I wrote about hearing the story of the death of the youngest daughter of Steven and Mary Beth Chapman earlier this year. This book tells Mary Beth's story, not just when Maria was killed but Mary Beth's whole life and struggling to see God in the mix of life.

One of my favourite quotes is from the foreword written by her husband

"By her own confession Mary Beth has had a lifetime of watching God overwrite her plans with His story. Sometimes the result has been wonderful, and sometimes it has been devastating. Sometimes she has been a willing participant and sometimes she has gone 'kicking and screaming'"

'Watching God overwrite her plans with His story' - As soon as I read that I knew I had to read the book all the way through; because, oh my goodness, I can relate.

Mary Beth is completely honest about her struggles (including those before the accident) and doesn't shy away from describing how she cried out to God during her pain. Which I really appreciated - while she continues to be heart-felt in her belief that God is in control and working through His perfect plan; she is honest about the mess of anger at God and asking "Why!".

I thought I was doing really well and was holding it together well - then the accident happened and I had continuous tears running down my face for the entire second half of the book.

So, anything else I should be reading?

Tiny hats

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sat, 26 Jan 2013 10:15:00 +0000

For something a bit more lighthearted :)

I've been enjoying crocheting in front of the tennis and cricket that plays at this time of year.

I discovered The Lovely Crow crochet patterns a while ago and then when I had a bit of Christmas money (and time) I decided to get a set of baby beanie patterns.

I love how quickly you are able to work each hat up, particularly as they are tiny baby hats :). I'm on my fourth (with a few false starts).

The My Angel Baby Cloche for a family at Mum and Dads church who just had a little girl. I love how dainty and vintage this pattern is!

And the Boot Scootn Cowboy Hat - because it is just so cute! Seriously I think I would melt if I saw that on a little baby, perfect for a photo shoot.

I really love The Lovely Crow patterns - they are a bit different to other stuff that is out there. Really cute and patterns. Written really clearly. Defiantly recommend them if you like to crochet!

Jenolan caves

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sun, 20 Jan 2013 12:23:00 +0000

Mum, Dad, Grandma and I went on a day trip to Jenolan Caves during my time with them. It's something I have wanted to do for years and it was totally worth it (even with the long, and at the end, crazy drive). We went on New Years Eve, had our own 'fire works' underground.

We did the tour of the Lucas cave, with a crazy amount of steps, but so many gorgeous formations.
It's amazing when you drive up, where the cave are just looks like the rest of the scraggly, rocky hills nearby. You would have no idea of the beautiful treasures underneath.

I really, really wanted to touch them. I have decided I am a rather tactile person so the 'no touching' rule nearly drove me insane. I try not to get cranky at kids when they try to touch something they shouldn't because I completely understand the urge t touch, feel explore.

My favourite formations was the 'ribbons' that ran along the roof at one part of the cave.

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Wed, 16 Jan 2013 14:18:00 +0000

It is nice to be home.

I feel like I have been away for a long time, 2 weeks with my parents and then a week with family in Brisbane with only enough time in between the two trips to unpack, sort and repack.

I have a whole lot of bits and pieces to share, but all the blog posts I have planned rely on photos and blogger is not co-operating with photos the last few days so it shall have to wait.

Looking Up

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Tue, 08 Jan 2013 03:41:00 +0000

All it took was one phone call.
A message left when I was at the shops. A call returned on my way home.

My situation at work, that had been so uncertain was suddenly secure.
Suddenly the year ahead look different. Less unknown. Permanency where there had been a whole lot of blank.

I came to the door, eyes shining, a spring in my step.
Good news shared and hugs all 'round.

'God is good', I say. I am reminded to trust and rest in Him. His timing is perfect.

And yet,
I've been here before; certain that finally this is where God wants me. And something holds me back. I'm scared this is another lesson, in trust and giving up of control.
The pessimist in me wants to hold back celebrating. The optimist wants to jump for joy.

I am like a little child, learning to walk.
My Father stands before me, hands out stretched, urging me to take one more step, to keep going.
Each time I fall, I sit and cry. I don't see the point. Yet, I look up and He is still there, so I push myself to my feet again, and take anther step. My balance wavers, and I know there will be many, many more tumbles.

Like a child, learning how to walk. No matter how many times I fall, the only option is to get up and try again. Because I look up and He's still there, and I trust that I'll make it in the end.

Begin again

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Tue, 01 Jan 2013 04:39:00 +0000

A new year. 2013.

I start this year so very different to last year.
This time last year I was full of hope, dreams, plans.

Then 2012 happened. A year I was driven to my knees more times then I can count. A year when every time I took a step the world collapsed around me. And so I stopped moving.

This year I have a new job that's uncertain, a new church after leaving my home church of 14 years. I have no real idea of what this year will bring. I barely know what will happen past January.

It's all a big unknown.

My Christmas; just thinking out loud

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Tue, 25 Dec 2012 12:04:00 +0000

This year Christmas was different. There's a lot going on at the moment and so I felt like I was grabbing gifts at the last minute (and no time for being creative with pretty wrapping). Packing to come up to Mum and Dads was done over several nights at 10pm, the only time I could fit it in.

This year it was just the three of us, it happened that it was everyone's turn to be somewhere else this year. Dad wondered if we'd like to try something different, so the three of us went down to the local community centre to help at the free community Christmas lunch.

I was really keen to do it, but also a bit nervous. It wasn't anything I had done before and didn't quite know what to expect. The lunch was open to anyone who didn't have anywhere else to go, and wanted a nice Christmas lunch. I thought it would be a whole lot of people off the streets, and while there were a whole lot of people that clearly were doing it tough.
But there were also backpackers with heavy Swedish accents, families with kids, older couples dressed up in their Sunday best with no where to go.

I never consider myself to be wealthy. I can live well but I'm not rich by societies standards. Yet as I handed out turkey and beetroot (those were my dishes on the table) I was acutely aware of the nice jewellery I wore, my newly tinted hair, my presents waiting for me at home. Not that I would give them away but I was aware of the fact that there are people in my own backyard ( so to speak) who would see me as incredibly well off.

I wondered if I would feel pity, and I did. I wondered if that would make me feel self righteous for 'giving up' my Christmas to come help. I felt almost embarrassed serving these people; who am I to serve you? It almost felt awkward, like 'look at me, I'm such a good person helping you less fortunate people'.
Most of the people we served were lovely and appreciative (especially the elderly people, I wondered if they had family who couldn't come to see them, or if they were all alone) but some others gave me looks that made me more self conscious of the situation.

I think it was the kids that got to me the most (which is understandable). Did they get many gifts this Christmas? Did their parents do without to get them something? Did their parents feel embarrassed coming to one of these dinners? Or did they see it just as a free lunch to take advantage of? I kind of feel you have to be pretty isolated from most people to have no where else to go. I wanted to make up packs for them with colouring books and bubbles and a book to read. I wanted to do face painting.

At most parties and gatherings I often find myself ending up in the kitchen. I feel better when I have something useful to do with my hands, away from the crowds. As much as I wanted to sit and talk, I got shy and found myself in the kitchen, where there was a shortage of volunteers anyway, with a tea towel in my hand.
There's something calming for me about working quietly alongside like minded people. Moving the hundreds of plates and bowls through the dishwasher and drying, stacking, putting them away.

We came home and had a quiet afternoon, then had 'our' Christmas at night. It was yummy, but still quite low key compared to some years. I didn't miss all the trimmings. I missed the people, my brother and sister-in-law, Grandma, my Aunts, Uncles, Pa, cousins. When I daydream about having a large family one day, a tiny part is so one day I can have big Christmases like I remembered from when I was younger; when we would be back on furlough so Dad wasn't working Christmas day and we could go to where all the relatives were and have crazy big family gatherings. Now everyone is grown up and spread out far away.

I really liked today. We still could have the big crowds gathering even with just the 3 of us at home. I'd happily do it again. And I totally understand why if you were isolated you'd rather come to a big community lunch than sit at home across the table from no-one. But I'd also like to come home afterwards to a house full of people who I love, wear silly bon-bon hats, talk and laugh and be together.

Wiggley Farewell

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sun, 23 Dec 2012 00:54:00 +0000

I thought it was necessary as an early childhood teacher for me to commemorate the end of the original Wiggles :).
My opinion is they should have disbanded The Wiggles rather than replace a majority of the band (though I'm willing to be proven wrong). I'm clearly a traditionalist - I couldn't really enjoy The Wiggles when Sam replaced Greg! so I don't think having 3 new Wiggles will be any where as good as the original 4. And unless I'm mistaken they don't have early childhood degrees like most of the originals do - which I think is a key to The Wiggles success; they get kids.

Carols in the Domain was on last night and I sang along to the Wiggles mix with all the other people.

Decision Made

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sun, 09 Dec 2012 23:08:00 +0000

I am
uttering sentences I always hated others saying.
Giving reasons to people I told others weren't good enough.

I am
sorry. I didn't understand how hard the decision was.
I wish I could take back the bitter thoughts I had.
The agony of what is the right thing to do,
uncertainty of where God want me,
of saying goodbye when so much of me doesn't want to leave.

The devastation of the looks of betrayal,
people telling me I'm being selfish.
The love from those who know me best,
who smile sadly and say they understand.

You
were shocked, told me you didn't understand.
I felt your words like a knife in the side.
You
didn't realise you had your chance to make me stay.

I am
ripping off the band aid.
Made a decision and carring it out.
Advice asked, prayers prayed, tears shed.
Refusing to disappear, though it's easier that way.

Cake

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sun, 09 Dec 2012 09:46:00 +0000

Thursday night was the 18th party of a friend of mine. She was in my first ever preschool Sunday school class, all those years ago. Haha, I feel old!
It's been so much fun to watch her grow up from a hyperactive kid to an amazing young woman of God I'm proud to call my friend :).

I convinced her to let me make her birthday cake (really wasn't that hard, I think our conversation went; Me "So, do you have a cake organised?" her "No, I'll probably make it", Me "Ooo, can I make it?", her "Sure!") hehe.

Two late nights totally worth it.

Loss

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Tue, 20 Nov 2012 10:44:00 +0000

A loss, of someone so very dear to me, sent me falling to my knees.
A day in bed; to forget, to remember, to escape, to try and build strength.
Waking up, going back out into the world - eyes blinking. Surprised to find it's still going on as usual. That very few share your pain. That most people forget why you seem out of focus every now and then. That the events of thursday didn't turn the rest of the world upside down like I feel it should have.