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run in the sprinklers and find your childlike faith

Dwellingyup, Western Australia
Dwellingyup, Western Australia.

On Saturday afternoon I arrived home after an event I had been coordinating to find my husband at our front door with my bags packed. He knows me, he knows what I need to find the inspiration that I so desperately needed.

He told me I had to go to the family farm. He told me to go find the space I needed.

With love and intention, he had packed my bags ready for me to drive away and find the strength I needed in a place of rest.

He knew I needed to drive, I needed to wage a war with my Maker, he knew the rising tide of questions within my heart needed to find expression. So I jumped in the car and drove, I searched for the inspiration in creation, I searched out the inspiration in the skyline, I was seeking answers. I laid out under the stars. I questioned and wrestled.

When I drive I exhale.

When I drive I sing and express.

When I escape and seek new scenery I find perspective and hope.

I drive with intention.

I drive with to find the grace my questioning heart is seeking.

Trying to find answers in a season of so much loss. Sick friends, illness, loss, death, stress and a world that seemed to be internally combusting. I felt like I was driving away from Armageddon and was seeking an answer, any answer, that would somehow quieten my raging heart.

Are you seeking answers?

Are you looking for strength in something beyond you?

Somedays we just need to be forced to find perspective beyond the landscape of our everyday.

I sat on the porch and talked about creation with my Uncle. I watched the sky turn from blue, to orange, to pink and deep blue again.

My little girl in the midst of my pondering ran in and out of the sprinklers screaming delight at the simplicity of the pleasure. She was seeking inspiration with a naive beauty, loving life at its absolute purest.

My adult heart was seeking answers to things that I just don’t have the perspective to ever understand.

My adult perception was looking for a big fat theological hat stand to hang my hat on.

Somethings we will never understand until the end of our days, somethings are just to confusing to find the boundaries that bring understanding. So sitting on the deck of my uncles farm, I found my faith again watching my daughter run underneath the sprinklers and enjoying water in a parched, dry land.

She delighted in the present.

She found her strength in the possibility of today.

Matthew 18: 3 says it this way…

“and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

I long to see the kingdom of heaven and I hope desperately to see my friends dancing and playing there.

For today I choose to have a childlike faith and look for the hope in the midst of the difficulty, anything more than that and my brain hurts too much.

Some seasons just don’t make sense.

Some days just don’t make sense.

And for today I choose to revel in the beauty of what is very simple in our world and try not to find the meaning in the bigger picture of it all.

Because sometimes things just don’t make sense and that is okay.

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Finding faith when it seems to have been lost.

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Some days to keep walking by faith and not by sight is a treacherous journey.

You know those days.

When you have prayed every prayer that your little heart can muster. Those days when you feel all dem feels and more. Those moments where you cannot believe the circumstance of what is falling down around you. Those days when you are not that sure whether you have anything left in that tank of belief and you are scraping the very bottom of the barrel.

Today for me is not one of those days, but I have had conversations full of stories this week that resemble the desperate moments I am describing.

Moments of disbelief.

Moments of complete and utter dismay.

Moments of exasperation.

Mainly with God.

How are you doing today?

Are you struggling to find faith?

Honestly it is totally okay. I am not sure when we started believing that faith was a crutch or the sign of weakness. The faith that I wrestle with is an active one. Honestly the days that I believe I have found my oasis of security, then something else crumbles within my reach. The sands shift, illness unveils, difficult conflict emerges.

Faith is and never was a place of assured standing. Faith is a grapple with the possibility that there is a purpose in the midst of the very worst days.

I have never met anyone who has done something of substance with their days that has not questioned, wrestled and gotten angry with their faith. Those who have believed in something greater than themselves, they to me are the warriors, they are the champions of great strength, they are marked by humility. I have found it is when I step into places that I no longer have faith for that my life and character are revealed

Faith is not for the faint hearted.

Faith is not for the weird and weak.

Faith is for those who have been knocked down, feel angry and afraid, yet stand up once again and start to slowly believe again for greater days.

Last night I rushed out our front door with a one year old, a three year old, a friends little man who I was looking after and a big pot of green curry. We all jumped in the car at 4.30pm and didn’t get home till after 7pm. I walked up to our front door and saw it wide open.

My first thought was “Oh my goodness we have been broken into”, as I walked from room to room it looked as if everything was just fine. I put the kids to bed and didn’t think of it again until this morning at ballet.

All the Mums were chatting whilst the teacher prepared the class, one of the Mums was describing how her Mother in Law had been broken into last night and the neighbour, the neighbours neighbour and in fact most of the street.

I went white and asked slowly what street and she said mine. Apparently our whole street had been victim to burglaries last night during the time that I had left ours wide open for any one to walk into.

The crazy thing is our house was left untouched. Most probably because the lights were on and music was playing, they probably assumed that we were home.

Faith.

It is a strange old thing.

I do believe that we had a hedge of protection around our little piece of paradise. I do believe that good things come to those who wait. I do believe that God can handle our anger, our pain and our absolute disbelief.

I think he comes closer as our heart and lives wane in faith. He delights over us in our darkest days, he is close to those who need his touch and presence. When we take time to sit, wait, breathe, restore, express, let go of the need to understand the bigger picture and to find the grace for our now. He comes near.

His gentleman’s grace comes flooding into those sore places that no one else can understand. He brings a strength to places that feel so weak that no one could understand their broken places. He is strong, when we are so terribly weak.

Somedays all we can do is cry, wait, breathe and seek.

Faith is not a crutch.

Faith is a place of protection.

A citadel of hope in the midst of a burning exodus.

If your life is crumbling and you feel like you have nothing left to give, He can strengthen even the darkest of places. I know this, because he has walked me through the shadow of the valley of death and I still fear no evil. I know this because I have come to the very edge of my faith and nearly lost it, time and time again, finding that he has been so ever faithful even during these days.

1-3 God, my shepherd!
    I don’t need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
    you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
    you let me catch my breath
    and send me in the right direction.

Even when the way goes through
    Death Valley,
I’m not afraid
    when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd’s crook
    makes me feel secure.

You serve me a six-course dinner
    right in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head;
    my cup brims with blessing.

Your beauty and love chase after me
    every day of my life.
I’m back home in the house of God
    for the rest of my life.

His beauty and love chases us. He brings all things together for good. Even when we have no hope left to be found. Every day he protects us.

He is faithful.

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when life is heavy

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I have struggled to write lately. No matter how much I have been milking my knitting muse, no matter the deep breath’s and long walks, the words have been slow to come.

Oh, they are raging hard and fast in my heart and head, they just haven’t made their way to my fingers and mouth, until today. Over the last few years a scripture from the book of lamentations has resounded so strongly in my life. It is a little nugget of wisdom that feeds my life when I surrender to its discipline.

When life is heavy.

When life is unfair.

When the burden becomes to hard to carry.

This is what the writer says;

“When life is heavy and hard to take, go off by yourself. Enter the silence.
Bow in prayer. Don’t ask questions: Wait for hope to appear.
Don’t run from trouble. Take it full-face. The “worst” is never the worst.” 

What an amazing grouping of words. What a beautiful picture of a life sown.

Man would say fight hard and strong, God would say wait on me and breathe deep.

Man would say get justice, get revenge, seek any retribution you can, God would say trust in me, I am bringing all things together for good.

Man would say shrink back, protect your family, hate and despise, God would say “Stand still and see what I will do before your eyes.”

I wrote in the midst of my heart heavy chaos this week on instagram…

“In the midst of so much chaos and confusion. I refuse to hate. I refuse to cast my opinions strong and hard. I choose to love. I choose to hold those dearest to me closer. I choose to take time to thank. I choose love. Light will always win over darkness. The world is aching for hope to be revealed. In the end I believe love wins. It’s the only thing that ever has. Goodbye competition, comparison, fear and harsh judgement. Hello friendship, mercy, grace and truth.”

Life continues to unfold with the greatest insecurities and challenge, yet I refuse to give in and allow the heaviness to overtake. See every opinion that is thrashed about hard and strong, has another perspective that proves to be so valid.

There is no quick fix formula to respond in the midst of crisis, death, breakdown and fear. We want formula, we want quick fix, we want to build our fences higher and higher, trying to make our worlds simpler and smaller. Yet the problem is we are the ones who remain inside, as we try to escape the drama in the world, we realise the filter with which we have seen everything through is our own eyes, our own experiences, our own failure and weakness.

When we see our opinions through the lens of the man in the mirror, when we ask ourselves what would it be like to walk in this person’s shoes before we speak, when we face our own insecurities, then our heaviness will be transformed by the perspective of the greater story.

Reflect

Reframe

Resist

Renew

Each time we reflect, we find perspective and reframe, we resist harsh judgement, we renew our sense of hope and promise.

Our heaviness eventually lifts and hope rises again.

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create your own path

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MAXIMUS & LIBERTY = strength &  freedom

It’s easy to copy what other people are doing. We live in an age where there is so much opportunity and information at our finger tips. This is both a blessing and a curse. The curse I have found is that we live our lives trying to replicate someone else’s show reel, ending up with a Pinterest fail kinda life, rather than take our own unique stories and creating our own path.

Here is some of my husband (Chief Dreamer of Maximus and Liberty’s) story.

Charl Viviers grew up in South Africa. He saw poverty, violence and societal decay most days of his life. He tells a story about when their family shifted to a seaside town in South Africa to help his little brothers Asthma and health. He remembers vividly making a declaration to himself that one day, he would live by the sea with his family and spend his days surfing and running the beach.

Enter my story.

I grew up in a seaside town in Perth, Western Australia. The problem is, because I grew up here I took it for granted and couldn’t wait to shift away. I did everything I could to escape the mundane of its bogan culture. I travelled, I created a life in the Metropolis of Perth City. I was going places. Anywhere away from the small mindedness of my town. As years grew and my passport filled, every time I visited my families home, I started to become increasingly aware, that everything I was looking for could be found in this little village of penguins, dolphins, beaches and community.

I bought a holiday home.

Maybe I could just return here for rest.

The week that I got my keys to my new little abode, was the week I starting dating my now husband.your path

Little did we both know that the seaside dream, was unfolding before our eyes. The purpose, the destiny was too big for our hearts to handle. But our future smiled, our legacy had a twinkle in its eyes. The time was waiting to be revealed and find it’s purpose.

My husband Charl shifted to Australia, via New Zealand all the way from South Africa to surf. He had heard that the surf was brilliant, the opportunities were a plenty and he came with not much more than a back pack and a small amount of cash.

Here we are years upon years later, with an email telling us our surf boards, stand up paddle boards, fins and so much more are on a ship on their way to Western Australia, ready to help us set up our new not for profit business with the end aim of legacy awaiting.

We are carving our own unique path that has been shaped and guided by years of back story. Together we are taking our unique passions and building something that we have dreamed of.

What is your unique?

What is the path that is asking to be walked?

It is not the same path as someone else, every moment of it will be completely different.

But my dear friend, whenever you risk and step out into the unknown you grow.

You are changed.

You become a version of the person you were always destined to become.

Carve a new path my friend.

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coming home

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The shack

I have a memory from my childhood that is so strong I could explain to you every smell, piece of furniture and deeply felt emotion. When I was five, I was in year one at school, one term in and I fell very sick. So sick that the doctors were terribly concerned about my life. I was raced up to Princess Margaret hospital in an ambulance, had surgery and during the midst of my recovery attended school for a few weeks in the hospital.

The day I arrived home from hospital after being there for quite a long time and being very sick, I walked in our front door, I ran to our side patio sliding door, looked out at our dog and sobbed my heart out.

I was home.

No longer in hospital.

I was safe.

I was secure.

I was in my most happiest of places.

This afternoon, I walked in our front door after four days of being unexpectedly in hospital and the memory of when I came home from hospital came flooding back. I walked around my space, my home, my people and I had that most overwhelming feeling of comfort, security and strength. I was home.

I’m okay, it was a random and unexpected little hospital stay, but the last few days away from my people have reinforced the why of our next season.

Legacy, is not about the mansions that we build or the inheritance that we leave for our loved ones, it is all about creating safety, security and a home.

The greatest legacy we can leave on this planet, is creating a home, that creates a space of encouragement and acceptance for the people that inhabit it.

Kind words of encouragement.

Soft rebukes that create strong boundaries.

Animals and plants, flowers and candles.

Smells, soft furnishings, collecting memories from around the world.

Experiences shared around a table marked and worn from our cutlery.

A home.

Wood that is worn through by feet being perched comfortably whilst sitting on the lounge. Leather seats that remember the shape of the home dwellers.

Personal artwork that evokes truth and beauty, reminding us of the beautiful days we made or collected it.

Soup pots, worn through from the stirring and baking.

Tea cups chipped as our children learn to pack them away awkwardly.

Lego pieces under feet, pyjama’s worn through with holes in unseen places and fridges that make funny noises that only you have noticed.

A pet that knows the sound of your car before you’ve turned the corner, rugs that are worn bare as we walk them in the night time during sickness.

Our home.

It is the legacy that is worth fighting for. It is a legacy in the making as we create a space for encouragement and sustenance.

Our home should be the safest place on the planet, that encourages life and daring greatly.

Yet accepts and makes a grace space for our imperfections and challenges.

Where the tone is always forgiving and the words are intended always to believe the best in every situation.

This is the greatest legacy we can leave on this earth.

An environment that satisfies even the greatest critic and overwhelms the doubter with courage.

As our children grow from toddlers to children, then tweens to teenagers, young adults to mothers and fathers. My greatest passion will be creating a home that they will always feel comfortable to live out their destiny with courage and acceptance.

This will be my greatest symphony.

Home

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