Twister

It’s funny sometimes the twists and turns that life takes. When I say funny, I don’t mean the hilarious, side-splitting type of humour that people enjoy, although there are often occasions where that type of funny exists. It’s more the, ‘when I was 16 I did not ever in my wildest dreams imagine my life looking like this’ type of funny. I wish I could say that my twenties were the best, most enjoyable years I have ever lived, where I lived like a queen and achieved my dreams and desires and saw great feats accomplished. Rather, this decade of my life has been the most difficult and arduous journey of my life to date.

There has been disappointment, my goodness has there been disappointment. There has been heartache and heartbreak and many months and years of the weary battle for freedom. I’ve seen dreams come and go. I’ve seen relationships fade into the distance and I’ve become familiar with the bitter sting of loneliness.

But you know what? I wouldn’t change a thing. Not for a million billion trillion gazillion dollars could you ever make me say that I would’ve been better off never having experienced these years, because the lessons that I have learned, the battles that I have won, the experiences that I have gained and the notches on my belt I have scored are so valuable and they have set me up to win for the rest of my life.

It has been during this time that God, in His loving mercy and grace, has put my broken life back together and birthed dreams and vision and purpose for my life, something that I am eternally grateful for. It was during those tough years that God worked a number on me, where He dug a deep well and laid a strong foundation to build my life on, where He did some pruning of my beliefs and where He showed me the truth in His word.

If I had never felt that sinking battering ram of disappointment, I would never have come to learn that God has plans to prosper me and not to harm me, that it’s HIS hope that anchors me in the storms, not the financial security of a job, that His ways are higher than my ways and when I can’t figure out my next step, it’s His WORD that is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. I would never have learned what it is to trust Him completely, in the times when I felt on top of a mountain or when I felt so low I could taste the dirt in my mouth. I would never have experienced that knee-wobbling faith when you step out into the world without the safety net of yourself and being in control

 So when I look back at the twists and turns that my life has taken, I’m choosing to see it through the eyes of heaven, that the highs and the lows have been the training ground for something much greater, that these years haven’t been in vain but rather they’ve been in preparation of something divine. That’s why I’m so thankful for every step of this journey, because I know God is at work and He’s not finished with me yet.

 “God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my Heart to His eyes” Ps 18:24 MSG

The OC's Saving Grace

Well, it's been six months since I went AWOL from this blog. A small thing such as a post-grad degree got in the way. However, the semester has finished, results have been logged and graduation is on it's way in September, so this writer is one happy girl who is now free to blog.

Even though I didn't actually write any blogs for a few months, I did come up with a few ideas for some inspired pieces:
- baking a cake is like mixing together the right ingredients for a successful life (choke! terrible analogy Naomi)
- driving in traffic is much like life, coz you've got to read the map, follow the law... oh please, shut up Naomi. Talk about corny...
- writing a script is like God's plan for your life (some potential in this one...)
And finally...
- The OC and the salvation message

What the? How could Satan's teenage television drama have anything to do with salvation? Have you completely lost the plot Naomi?

Not lost the plot. Rather, found a parallel in the plot. The OC's plot. Touche.

Whether you hated it or loved it, or you don't even know what I'm talking about, the TV series created a stir when it was on the silver screen. If you're not familiar with the, dare I say, awesome, show, allow me to fill you in:

Ryan, a troubled teen from a bad neighbourhood, gets busted stealing a car with his brother. Luckily for Ryan, he gets probation. Even luckier is that Ryan's lawyer, Sandy, is a compassionate kindred spirit who pities him and takes Ryan home to Newport, where his wife, Kirsten, and misfit son, Seth, adopt him and rescue him from a life of crime, violence and hopelessness. Ryan meets and falls in love with his neighbour, Marissa, whose life is full of more drama than an acting school. The show follows the lives of Ryan, Seth, Marissa and her best friend and Seth's love interest, Summer, as they navigate the tricky world of teenage life in upper class Orange County.

Okay, so I probably didn't sell the show. And maybe I shouldn't have tried. But whatevs. I liked the show when it was on and have since purchased the four seasons on DVD and occasionally crack them out for a mind-numbing marathon session. Don't judge me. But that's exactly what I did recently. I got the DVDs out and had a bit of a flashback moment to relive the glory days of my early 20s. As I was halfway through the first season, I noticed something that I hadn't picked up on before. I couldn't help but notice the underlying themes of grace and redemption that are woven throughout the storyline.

Ryan was a kid who was going nowhere fast. No purpose in life, no hope that his situation would change, stuck in a desperate life that proved futile. His family was dysfunctional; his mum was a drunk, his dad was in prison and his brother was heading the same way. In Christianese, Ryan was 'lost'. Enter the Cohen family in their compassionate mercy and we see Ryan offered a chance at a hopeful new life, which he takes, and begins to overcome his past and starts living for his future.

I know life isn't always like a movie or TV show, but for what it's worth, I can absolutely relate to Ryan's story. Sure, his struggles were polished for prime time viewing, but if you look at the themes of the story, what we've got here is a textbook case of mercy and salvation. You see, like Ryan, I was also lost. I was living a life that was going nowhere. I was a hopeless kid who had given up on myself and didn't have the strength to pull myself together. But God (two of the greatest words in the Bible), in his gracious mercy, came and found me. He offered me a new life. He didn't care about what I'd done. He loved me back to life. You might like to say, He pulled an OC on me.

That's why I like The OC. Not because of Marissa's drama or the clothes or the music (I do like the soundtrack, actually...). It's because of the power of mercy. The Cohen family saw a kid who needed a second-chance, and they offered it to him. They rescued a kid who needed rescuing. They took on all the legal implications of being his guardians, provided for him, loved and accepted him and set him on a new path.

That to me is a great illustration of my merciful God, the One who redeems, whose grace is more than enough, the One who is mighty to save, the One who has the power to change circumstances and who has a purpose for my life, who loves like noone I've ever met before. That's the God I believe in.

So the next time you watch The OC, think of this little blog. It'll change your whole perspective of the show.

Califorrrrrniaaaaaa, Califorrrrrniaaaaaaaaa, here weeeeee coooooooooommmmmmmmeeeeeeeeeeee...

Fearless

Daily voucher websites are a wonderful thing. For only $20, I can buy a teeth whitening kit, complete with gel and UV light, delivered to my door for only a few dollars. I seriously considered buying it in a moment of credit card weakness.

There's plenty of useless items up for grabs on the daily deals, and I was fortunate enough to have nabbed myself a bargain a few months ago. I purchased a half price voucher to take a trapeze class.

I'm not really one of those daredevil, adrenalin rush junkies who enjoy heights and falling at great speeds and near death experiences. I much prefer enjoying gravity normally, and sipping soy flat whites. So when this email came through, I dismissed it, saying 'I could never do that'.

But as I did that, a little voice inside whispered 'What's stopping you? Fear?'

Let's delve into that internal monologue a little deeper.

"So Naomi, what's stopping you? Fear?"

"Well, yeah, actually. I'm deathly afraid of heights and I hate the feeling of falling. I don't think I could," I replied defensively.

"So are you always going to let your fears hold you back?"

"No." A quick retort. Not a good look.

"Well they've held you back so far."

Darn this enlightened reasoning. I could feel my heart racing at the probing questions. It was like ripping a band aid off and exposing the wound.

"It's not that I'm afraid, it's just that I prefer to stay on the ground."

"Well, it you're not afraid, buy the voucher."

"Fine, I will!" Reverse psychology. It was a lose-lose situation. Or a win-win if you looked on the bright side.

So I bought the voucher. And I did the trapeze class. And even though I was freaking out climbing the ladder and leaning over the edge to grab a hold of the bar, I did it. (insert applause)

Here's my spiritual lesson to take away: fear hinders us. It doesn't keep us safe, it stops us from enjoying life. Even though I was afraid of heights, I forced myself to climb that eight metres and jump off the edge. By the third time, it wasn't scary. It was actually quite fun.

I could've ignored that email or backed out of the class. But I would've missed an opportunity to thumb my nose at fear and prove to myself that I can do things I never thought I could do.

So now I'm taking stock of my life and identifying where fear is holding me back. What am I missing out on because I'm too afraid to try? Is it meeting new people? Developing relationships? Learning a new skill? Setting bigger goals? Speaking in public? Going on a boat? (pretty sure that's a long way off....) There's a reason God doesn't like fear - it holds us back. And I'm determined to take fear out. This is the year to end fear (that could be a bumper sticker?).

Whatever form fear takes in your life, look it straight in the eye and take it out. You might actually enjoy doing it.

I think I'll try something new next week... maybe whitewater rafting? (that's a whole different story...)

En-Courage

As I get older, I am becoming more in tune with what I believe, what I stand for and what I truly dislike. I guess some people would call it being 'set in your ways', but I think it's a little more than getting stuck in a routine of mediocre adulthood.

I think it's probably more along the lines of, 'another year older, another year wiser'. Amen to that. It's about time I grew up and starting acting like an adult. Maybe it's that nasty cynicism creeping into my world, leaving a bitter after taste of pessimism behind whilst cleverly disguising itself as being 'in touch with reality'.

But I think it's even more than that. I think it's when we finally get comfortable in our own skin and have developed enough self-awareness to realise just what makes us tick. I've been around me long enough to know what I'm like.

I've done the personality tests, the spiritual gift tests, the questionnaires, the psychological tests, the IQ tests, read the books, listened to the tapes, heard the sermons, and I've come out the other end knowing a few things. I know I'm a melancholic choleric who has the gift of wisdom and has a HUGE IQ. I also have the gift of exaggeration.

But even after all those written tests, there's a few things that time will eventually tell you, and often they will come from everyday interaction with everyday people. The beautiful people on the same team, the gifted individuals, the leaders, the sandpaper sisters, those darn sanguines and irritating phlegmatics who can't make a decision. It's through everyday life that I learned a few lessons about people, but also about myself.

I learned that I'm passionate about team. I love team, the very thought of team makes me smile. I'm sold out to the house of God. That's where you'll find me. I like to make big decisions carefully, complete with the pros and cons list. I despise it when commitment is lacking. And I believe that encouragement is one of the biggest weapons in my arsenal.

When I think about how vulnerable I used to be as a young person setting out on the Christian journey and how much it meant to me when a leader or friend encouraged me with a note, quality time, a kind word or something else meaningful, I'm reminded of the impact it had on me. I haven't forgotten those things, and literally still have every note someone ever wrote me in a box. So when I look at this generation today trying to find their way, their calling, growing in their ministry gifts, I think back to the impact that encouragement had on me and I pay it forward.

My dad says, 'You catch more flies with honey than vinegar'. I can make more friends and help more people to grow through encouragement than I can through reprimand. There are times when you need to deliver the hard word (my college lecturer used to say 'two positives then a negative' and 'sandwich it with encouragement'), but geez, there are always way more opportunities to deliver the kind and encouraging word.

Encouragement is free. It costs me nothing, but you can't put a value on what it could mean to the other person. I want the people I do life with to never doubt that I believe in them.

At the end of my life, I want to be known as an encourager. A leader? Sure. A great friend? Absolutely. But to be known as an encourager, that every time I led, every time I interacted with someone, every time I taught a newbie musician, I found something positive that they did and something positive within them, and encouraged them. That's what I want to spend my life doing.

'Hey mate, the way you played that chorus was awesome, great job!'

'You did really well tonight, I loved that you jumped in that song, that was heaps cool.'

'You led the band really well tonight, especially when you brought the chorus down and built it up again, well done!'

'I can see heaps of potential in you, you're pretty great.'

'I'm so glad I get to do life with you!'

Words can be cheap these days, so I never want to sound insincere, but it really doesn't take much to be an encouraging voice in a discouraging world.

At the end of the day, if you sow encouragement, you reap encouragement. It's a win-win situation really.

pass the gloves please

I'm one of those people who hates getting their hands dirty. I don't like getting dirt under my nails and I don't like the feeling of grime on my skin. I used to wash my hands a lot, so much so that I developed an allergy to the handwash and couldn't use it anymore.

I'm not a gardener, I don't much like cooking and using my hands to prepare food, and I most certainly don't do anything handy around the house other than the laundry. I'm not precious about my nails, but I do regularly groom and manicure myself so I don't look sloppy.

I don't really enjoy housecleaning, but I love the feeling of having a clean house, so I will occasionally pull out the furniture polish and get about buffing the timber. I can check the oil and water in my car, but that's as far as I'll go. No oil change for me. That's what I pay mechanics for. Their hands are already so grubby it would be a shame to dirty my pretty little paws when they could do it in half the time.

I do bath the dogs and brush their coats, but when it comes to the gross things like cleaning out their ears? Mum's the best person for that job. And let's not get started on who should clean up any mishaps on the carpet. Mum. Enough said.

I like washing up, but I always like to make sure that I have a sink full of clean water. We're not advanced enough to have a dishwasher, so it's good ol' fashioned washing up for me. I don't enjoy sticking my hands into luke-warm dirty dish water to pull the plug. I'll often use a fork to pull it out so I don't have to get my hands dirty.

Now, before you label me an OCD fanatic, let me explain. (...I used to organise my wardrobe in alphabetical order according to the colours of the fabric.... black, blue, brown, green, grey, orange, pink, purple, yellow. I have since recovered, but that obsession does linger every now and then...) I just don't like getting my hands dirty. I feel, well, dirty.

But I also know that things don't get done on their own. I've had to learn the art of rolling up my sleeves and doing whatever needs to be done. It's a pretty simple concept. When things need to be done, I do them. I don't like to have a job unfinished. I very rarely leave a job uncompleted. I do enjoy working through a to-do list and ticking off the things that need to be done.

My dad used to drill into me, 'If a job's worth doing, it's worth doing well'. Thanks Dad. You bred excellence into me from a young age, as young as I can remember.

I'm no stranger to hard work. I do what needs to be done. And I've learned that, sometimes, you've got to get your hands dirty. There's just times where things need to be done. And there's no way you can't do them. You can't ring Hire A Hubby and get them to finish the job. It can only come from you, from your hands, from your experience, your background, your knowledge and wisdom.

There's some things that you've got roll your sleeves up for and get your hands dirty.

Now, you've probably figured out that I'm not talking about planting pansy's or scrubbing down the garage walls (because who wants to do that?!). I'm talking about getting your hands into the hard work, the team challenges, the building, the stretching the growing of yourself and others, the tedious tasks of teamwork and the painful process of internal healing. Sometimes, there's no other way to deal with it than to get out those princess rubber gloves with faux animal fur, snap them on and go about the Father's business.

Because when you busy yourself with building God's kingdom, He busies Himself with your steps. When your about the Father's business, He looks after yours.

What a privilege, what an honour, to spend my life getting my hands dirty for the Kingdom.

Trust Me

Have you ever heard someone say, 'Just trust me!'? And have you ever actually trusted them? It's the mantra of shonky salespeople and the repetitive chant of manipulative shady-tradies.

I'm pretty sure that I have never trusted anyone who has to tell me to trust them. If they haven't earned my trust, then I'm pretty sure I'll never give it on their words alone.

It's kind of like the screenwriting rule - show don't tell. You should never tell the viewer everything that is going on. The viewer should be able to deduce and determine what a character is thinking and feeling by their actions and their speech. Otherwise, you may as well have a narrator on screen talking you through what is happening. Part of the fun of a movie is figuring out what's going on.

This morning when I was getting ready for work, I did all my ablutions, got dressed, tied my hair up and jumped back into bed to read my Bible for a few minutes before heading off. It's my little bit of quiet time (and on occasion extra nap time).

I was reading through Mark, and got to the story of Jairus and his daughter. Jairus was bringing Jesus back to his home to heal his sick daughter, when on the way, his daughter died. I like this story, not because of the daughter dying, because Jairus was a real man in a real situation. He had real hopes and real disappointments and a real opportunity to put faith into action.

The story starts with Jairus running to Jesus, bringing him home to heal his daughter. Imagine you're Jairus. Your child is deathly ill. You run to the man who you believe is the only one who can help your daughter. That takes a lot of faith. And you bring the healing miracle man home. That's a massive leap of faith, because after all, he could be the psycho that everyone is saying he is.

Jairus was a man of faith, a devout Jew, the leader of a local synagogue. He would've lived a life above reproach. He would've followed the Law to the enth degree. He was a leader, respected and well-liked in his community. He would've worked hard to support his family, giving them his best.

Put yourself in Jairus' shoes. Or sandals. Just when he thought he had some hope. He had this Jesus coming to his home. People were saying he was the Messiah. Others were saying he was a prophet. Others also were saying he was just a good man. But whoever people claimed him to be, his miracles and healings were enough proof that this Jesus was sent from God.

So Jairus let hope swell in his soul. His daughter was going to be okay, Jesus would heal her. His steps were quick, almost a run, so desperate to get Jesus to his daughter. When on the way, a woman reached out and touched Jesus.

And she was healed.

Jesus stopped and addressed the woman and declared that her faith had made her well. Yes, Jairus was onto the right man. Jesus was healing people left, right and centre! And he had faith. He had come all this way to get Jesus and bring him home. Yes, Jairus had faith.

They began on their journey again after Jesus had stopped with the woman and her healing. Jairus would've been feeling confident. Yes, this Jesus could heal his daughter! He'd just healed a woman who'd been sick for over a decade! Surely his daughter would be fine. But then, he gets hit with the news.

Your daughter is dead.

Here is the part where the swelling violins starts, the tears start rolling down Jairus' cheek, running into his beard. Sobs well up from the pit of his stomach and then... gut-wrenching sobs, the kind that suck the breath out of you and take a massive effort to fill your lungs up again.

In this moment, imagine his thoughts. 'But I had faith!', 'This Jesus cant really heal', 'If Jesus hadn't stopped with that other unclean woman my daughter would still be alive'. All of this and more, travelling through his mind at the speed of thought. Sorrow for his child, the desperate emptiness of hopelessness and disappointment, anger.

And then Jesus says those most hated words: 'Just trust me'. Yeah right Jesus. Like I'm going to trust you now after you've just let my daughter die. I don't trust you as far as I could throw you. You've just let me down. You gave me a glimmer of hope and now, nothing. Nada. Zip. Thanks for nothing big guy.

I wouldn't blame Jairus for parting ways with Jesus. Everything in his fleshly soul would've wanted him to reject the hope of Jesus for the disappointment in the here and now. Think about times of heightened emotion, maybe when you didn't get that dream job. And you get that all-too-familiar rejection email. And Jesus says 'Just trust me'. That salesman lingo doesn't go down easy at first.

But, all credit to Jairus. He kept going on the journey with Jesus. He didn't part ways, but stayed with him all the way to the destination. He trusted Jesus. He chose faith. Just when he thought he had faith before in fetching Jesus in the first place, his faith is tested and stretched in an unimaginable way.

And his faith allowed a miracle to happen.

His daughter was only sleeping! Now, I'm not a parent, but I'm pretty sure I know the difference between a sleeping child and a not-alive child. It's not like Jairus and his wife would've just stood at a distance to determine if their daughter was alive or not. They would've shaken her, shouted and tried to wake her.

But Jesus, in his Jesus-like way, said she was only sleeping. And he was right. Even if she was in a very, very, very deep sleep, she still woke up and started walking around.

What an awesome story. Imagine if Jairus had parted ways with Jesus earlier. Imagine if Jairus had chosen not to trust? He would've stopped reading the book halfway through and not realised the ending, which was exactly what he was after.

My desire? To trust Jesus when he says 'Just trust me'. He does know the end of the story, after all.

a beautiful cacophony

I've come to realise something.

Life isn't like the movies.

Have you ever wished it was though? I mean, everything is so perfect and complete with closure all within 120 minutes. The guy gets the girl, the girl gets the ring, everyone finds love and perfection and the audience leaves feeling satisfied.

But, unfortunately or perhaps fortunately, life isn't like that.

Life is messy. It's imperfect. It's filled with broken dreams, disappointments and lost love. It's full of loneliness, distractions, stumbles and rejection. We get wrapped up in insecurities, mindsets, irritations and short-comings. Life can be all of this and more.

But that is where some people leave it.

They quit before the end. They throw in the towel before the race has been completed. They declare a truce with destruction before hope has a chance to prevail. They see the hurdle in front of them instead of focusing on the finish line just a few metres away.

A friend of mine once wrote about a tapestry. If we did not have the dark threads weaved throughout the entire fabric, then the bright colours would not look as vibrant, the contrast not as stark.

Life is a beautiful cacophony of triumphs and lows. Without the lows, we would not have the incredible highs. Without the highs, the darkness would prevail. If life was a constant picnic, we would not learn survival and we would not appreciate the taste of victory. We would not exert dominion and without the lows, we would not realise the heights to which we were carried.

Life is a beautiful cacophony of helpless cries and shouts of joy, of cries of victory and tears of pain. Without one colour, a rainbow would not be complete. Without struggle, we would not have release.

I believe that we can not do without our dark threads. But weaving a tapestry of only dark colours dims our light.

I appreciate the beautiful cacophony of life. And it is sweet.