Friday 5 October 2012

The other day, a friend asked me why I blog. My reply was that I usually get a "bee in my bonnet" about something, feel ready to burst and then have no choice but to get in "out there" somehow. This post is not really like that, though. This post is more of a response to a few requests for ideas.

My blog is called "Homemade Sal" and sometimes I wonder if I should be posting more about what I'm making. I have assumed it to be a bit boring, so I've not tended to do it much so far, but hopefully this will be helpful in giving some ideas to people who might want some....

Autumn seems to be my "New Start" Season. With the dark nights, I tend to sleep more, eat more and stay in more, but I also really notice the change in seasons so much more than with the other seasons, and so "new" seems inevitable. I go clothes shopping (something that I avoid as much as possible) in a desperate search for woolly tights, cosy boots, snoods and scarves, and soft cardigans. I cook more cosy food like casseroles and soups, make bread, cookies and cakes, and finish off my jam-making from my late-Summer foraging. I notice the dust and dirt in the house more, and so I start cleaning like a mental woman, and I love a good Bin Liner Session in each room where broken toys, ripped books, and grown-out of clothes get sorted into recycle/rubbish tip bags. I also tend to begin to focus on Christmas preparation, and my shopping begins in earnest, hiding bags in random unreachable places, in an attempt to make our money stretch whilst still keeping surprises for the kids.

In this New Start Season, I try to make some changes. I really enjoy meal-planning (I know, it's so sad) and I thought I'd share my new plans in this post. In order to load my kids up with good food for the flu season, I have decided to include some big, hearty dishes to our mealtimes, replacing the salad and jacket potatoes of the Summer. And I love to try new recipes...So, this is how it's working at the moment...

On Mondays we have homemade soup and bread. So far, we've had Tomato & Basil, Beetroot, Leek & Potato, and Chicken Noodle. Not all popular, but I felt very smug.

On Tuesdays we have a pasta dish of some kind. Tuna Pasta Bake, Spaghetti Bolognaise, Cheese and Broccoli Pasta Bake. The kids LOVE pasta, especially my eldest son who, at 12 years old, is growing like crazy!

On Wednesdays I keep it simple...Meat and Two Veg. A classic, but I usually add an interesting marinade for the meat. The kids really like it and have very little to complain about. Sometimes I make a Meatloaf with an amazing tomato and clove sauce that is always a hit with my lot.

On Thursdays, it's Cosy and Hearty Night...Chicken Casserole, Honey Beef Stew & Dumplings, Sausage Casserole, Chilli, Sweet & Sour Pork, Shepherds Pie...mmmmm.

On Fridays, I give myself a break. Tonight it was Fish Fingers & Potato Wedges. My kids love Boiled Eggs & Soldiers, or a Cooked Breakfast for tea. Whatever it is, it's usually junk and they love it....

Saturdays is my absolute favourite day. We lay a big blanket out on the lounge floor, sit together in front of Saturday evening TV and devour our Adventure Meal. Our Adventure Meals are usually something we can eat with our hands, Pizza, Curry & Chapatis (made by Daddy), Fajitas, Nachos, Cheese Fondue, Raclette...basically any food that it adventurous to eat. Sometimes, I do  a Favourite Meal on a Saturday night...BBQ Ribs for Roo, Smoked Salmon for Indy & Seth and Lasagne for Dave.

On Sundays we've always enjoyed a family Roast dinner...(we ENJOY it, but we don't always manage it!!) Roasts are yummy and great for left overs and ALWAYS call for a pudding afterwards...last week was Grasshopper Pie and this week it'll be Banoffee Pie....soooooooooooo yum.

I find that planning my meals saves me lots of money and seems to take a lot of the stress out of life. I plan a few weeks in advance and then when it comes to dinner time, I know what's on the menu!

My recipes come from books, the Internet, my mum, my memories. I like to cook food that I like to eat. And I LOVE cosy, warming, hearty food. Maybe that's one of the reasons I love this season.

Wednesday 15 August 2012

An important announcement

Tomorrow will be my 35th birthday. My husband will have the day off work and we will spend the day together, with our kids, trying to chill out, have fun and spend as little money as possible! After reading many blogs, posts and comments recently, it occurs to me it seems to be the season for making changes and then announcing them. It also seems that a birthday is a good time to start afresh and make some changes. New Year and birthdays seem to be the traditional time for making announcements of future plans, fresh ideas, changes in lifestyle and new endeavours. And so, I began to think....

There are (and always have been) about a million squillion creative projects that I have bubbling away. I have dreams of opening a children's bookshop, complete with an art area, a cafe for parents and kids and a secret back room full of dressing-up clothes and props for playing with and creating new stories. I have a number of books in my head (one is currently being written with my husband) and I am always planning sewing projects (a teepee for the garden, a wall hanging based around a line from a book I recently read, three quilts and some toys.) I have fruit ready to be made into pots of jam for the winter and I've already began to think about handmade Christmas presents for my friends and family this year. My eldest son starts secondary school in a few weeks, so I am in the process of gathering his uniform and equipment for school (including a mobile phone....why he needs one, I do not know....whatever....)

As I look at my life, there are many, many possibilities. There are so many areas of my character that need renewing and my body definitely needs some improvement. As I type, I can see my reflection in the screen and the sunshine is, very kindly, showing up rather a few lines around my eyes. But botox and plastic surgery are not really an option for me, so I'll have to get used to it.

I could always try to do more exercise, spend more time with friends and drink less Diet Coke. I could read more Christian lifestyle books, learn another language and shout at my kids less. I could put more time into my marriage, be more sympathetic to those in need and watch less Real Housewives of New York City.

But, the truth is, I'm just living. Life is busy and I am blessed. I have a husband, three kids, two cats and a house. I work at my husband's office a couple of days each week, go to a busy church, do the school run and try to keep up with our extended family. I have ideas and opinions, opportunities and great friendships. Our kitchen is falling apart, my veggie patch is overgrown and we need a new lounge carpet.

The fact is that what I am right now is enough. I do not need to strive. I do not need to aspire to be someone else and I do not need to impress. In the words of Fatboy Slim, "Right here, right now" is enough for me.

And so...I will not be making any big announcements or statements of intent. I will change gradually, as we all do, and I will allow God to move me along, transform me and nurture me. It is very likely that I wont announce it either. Why should anyone else be bothered by what I am doing? So, there you go - my important announcement - I'm not announcing anything.

Wednesday 25 July 2012

Fantasy Man

Man, yesterday was just one of those days! I had a shocker. The second official day of the Summer Holidays, all three kids at home, burning hot sun, virtually no breeze, Dave at work, tired, hungry, fed up and frustrated. I yelled, and screamed at my kids on numerous occasions. I sent them to their bedrooms, for at least five lifetimes each, cried, listened to their apologies, offered mine, received their forgiveness, felt guilty and cried a bit more. The house was continually messy whilst I tried to continually tidy, the kids had totally different agendas from each other, one wanting to make a film, one wanting to play football, one wanting to build a camp in the garden - all wanting to do carry out their plans in the same garden...

I had decided to rest (with three kids, a virtual impossibility) and wanted some peaceful, quiet space in the cool living room, watching trashy TV or reading my new Summer holiday book ("Time of My Life by Cecelia Ahern...I LOVE her magical, funny and moving stories) but the kids continued to fight each other, break stuff, repeatedly ask for sugar-based snacks.

My eldest has just left Primary school, will be starting secondary school in September,and is therefore almost a teenager. Along with being a teenager, comes the "I'd-rather-have-a-bath-in-acid- with-Ann-Widecombe-than-spend-time-with-any-of-you" attitude, as well as an instinctive and healthy longing for independence. So, I'm on a massive learning curve of letting him go, giving him space, but at the same time teaching him the responsibility of family life and the importance of quality time together....needless to say, he and I are pretty much at war at the moment. And it's not a Cold War, it's a Burning Hot, Raging and Explosive War. Lots of fun. Oh yeah. Awesome. No, really.

So, last night, with a pretty tough day behind us,  after my children were all nestled all snug in their beds, with visions of unlimited ice cream in their heads, my poor, long-suffering husband Dave got the brunt of my day, in the form of a massive crying meltdown. I cried. I told him all of the things that I didn't like about myself. I sniffed a lot. I told him of all my terrible thoughts from the day. I told him that I felt frustrated, that I wanted to run away and to lie on a beach with a book and ignore everyone. I told him how I had eaten too much food - most of it fattening - and how I hated myself for losing control again, with my eating and with my use of expletives in front of our kids. I told him that I wouldn't blame him for choosing any other woman over me and how I felt that the kids would be damaged by my incompetence as a mum. I told him how I felt lonely and friendless, and how I felt as if others rolled their eyes at me, and my constant verbal/literal outbursts. I was having a Proper Pity Party, and no mistake!

"And what", I hear you ask, "did Dave say or do in response?" Well, as Dave would say, "That is a very good question." Dave listened. Dave acknowledged my feelings as valid. Dave explain that despite my feelings being valid, that they were feelings and not facts. Dave reassured me of his love for me, and his attraction to me, despite the amount of food that I had eaten. He told me that there was only one woman for him and only one mum for our children...and that was me. Dave reminded me of wonderful friendships that I have with wonderful people, and of the encouraging words I have received from so many friends. Dave also firmly told me that I need to stop being so hard on myself, that I need to rest and that he expected me to sleep as much as possible on our upcoming holiday in Dorset. Dave also was extremely firm in rebuking my feelings of guilt towards him or my children. He told me that he was proud of me and that his love for me would not change. Dave then sent me to  bed. He prayed for me this morning, and today (so far!) has been so much better.

This morning, as I recalled the conversation that Dave and I had last night, I found myself thanking God for this amazing man that is mine. He really is all I have dreamt of. He fulfils each point on a list that I wrote, describing my perfect husband to God. He is strong, kind, funny, generous and intelligent. He is handsome and humble and a hard-worker. He pursued me, at risk of looking silly. He is patient and understanding. He is friendly and easy to spend time with. Wow! A Fantasy Man!

Recently, with the release of "50 Shades of Grey", The Fantasy Man has hit the headlines. Mr Christian Grey seems to be featuring pretty regularly in the lives and imaginations of many women, if recent Facebook status updates are anything to go by! I've not read the book, so I am a little ill-informed about the character of Christian Grey, and to be honest, I'm not really that interested. But, I have been thinking a lot about the kind of man that a woman looks for. We all have different tastes, and as we live our lives, our tastes definitely change. But I have noticed something. Many of the women that I speak to are longing for a kind, honest, considerate, understanding, helpful , hard-working and strong man. They are searching for him. They are waiting for him. Many have not met him. Many have met someone who they hope will turn into him!

I'm not sure how this ideal, perfect man can be found, but I do know that many of us settle for second best, or less. I don't have any advice or any pearls of wisdom as to how to find this man, or how to change your current man into The Fantasy Man. I guess, I just felt a need to write this post, just in case anyone reading this needed reminding...You are precious...and you deserve the best. Choose well. Choose a kind, strong man, who loves you as you are, and challenges you to be the best. Choose a man who puts you first, before himself and sets you free to be happy, enjoy yourself and live life abundantly. Choose a man who is glad to say sorry when he is wrong and will do everything he can to make positive changes. A man who points out all of your faults, criticises your choices and withholds affection will bring you down and make you weak. A man who cuddles you, laughs at your jokes, and boasts to his friends about your beauty, intelligence and strengths will make you strong. For goodness sake, aim high and you'll end up living The Fantasy Life with the Fantasy Man.

Thursday 12 July 2012

What about him?



For as long as I can remember, I have compared myself and my life to others. I'd love to say that I have never been bothered by the achievements of others, and that the way other people look, has no impact on me at all. I'd love to say that I've always been content with "my lot", and that the lives of other people do not appeal to me. I'd love to be able to say that I've never seen the "grass as greener" on the other side of anyone else's fence. But the truth is, that I have often felt jealous of other people.

I can recognise the good things in my life. I am blessed with possibly the kindest husband to ever have graced the Earth with his presence. I have three healthy, bright, creative, loving children, with whom I became pregnant very easily. Each of my children have gained school places in our "first choice schools". I live in a sweet character house, which we own. We have a car which starts every morning. I live in a country where I can freely express myself. Both of my lovely parents are still alive and together. My amazing brother and I have a great relationship, and he is married to a girl who I absolutely adore and continually boast about!! I have an amazing array of awesome girlfriends who bless me in varied ways - girls who feed me, girls who make me laugh, girls who challenge me, girls who teach me stuff, girls I can cry with, big sisters, little sisters. I have had amazing opportunities in my life - school, university, great jobs, varied ministries, two loving and vibrant churches. I have had great financial blessings including cars being given as presents...in fact, all four of the cars I have owned have been given to me, including my beloved 1976 VW Beetle, Boop...oh how I miss her!!

Aside from these "external" blessings, God has blessed me with talents. I can sing pretty well,act, sew, knit, spin my own wool, bake, (my creativity is varied!!!) talk for Great Britain, preach, write, write songs, relate to all kinds of people and make people laugh. As my American friend, Bekah, describes herself, I too, am a "Janice of all trades".

Despite all this, I really struggle to enjoy the success and opportunities of others. There have been many, many times when I have seen other people given opportunities to have a new adventure, start a new ministry, or lead a project. This is life, isn't it? We all get to do new things, and enjoy progress at various times of our lives. But many of those times, I have felt bitter, sad and even angry that it was not me that got these things. Rarely have I envied money, but it is much more recognition that I have craved and, therefore, envied in others.

I am sure that many people would be astounded that I might crave the life or opportunities of other people. Why should another's life have any impact on mine? Why would I want something that someone else has, when I have so much anyway? The truth is, that it is only very recently that I have started to ask myself this question and try to work out the answer.

The answer is not very pretty. But seeing as though this post is honest and not very "pretty" either, I may as well keep going. In truth, I have often felt that I am viewed as "not quite satisfactory". Since I was a little girl, I have assumed that others see me as unintelligent, irritating, lazy, nosey, too big for my boots, moany, whiney, and fat. As an adult, I have also developed the belief that I am seen as "a loose canon", "very up and down", "flighty", "uninvolved with my children" and unreliable. Let me be very, very clear. This blog post is not designed to elicit reassuring comments or encouraging truths. I have been repeatedly reassured by trusted friends, who I believe would tell me the truth (good or bad) and I have had lots of counselling. I know that many of these things are not true. I have learnt that I have dwelt upon many lies that have somehow wormed their way into my psyche.

My own low opinion of myself and, more specifically, my concern that I am overlooked because of the low opinion of others, has left me with a natural and immediate tendency to envy others. The real problem with envying others is that my envy very quickly turns to judgement. I start to question the motives of others. "Why did they accept that promotion? What is their motive? Why do they think they can do it? How proud they are! If everyone knew what they were really like, they'd NEVER have been promoted!"

I then develop an unhealthy dislike and obsession. I begin to have imaginary conversations. I pray the wrong kind of prayers, "Lord, show everyone the truth! Show everyone what that person is REALLY like. I just feel that it is not right!"I gossip with others, under the guise of "genuine concern". "I'm just not so sure that they can cope with the responsibility. I'm really worried for them."

So, why have I chosen to write about this? Why am I sharing this? I guess it helps me. To admit that this is an issue for me is scary. I don't want everyone to know the really rubbish things about me. I've shared some of the rubbish things before...just not the really rubbish things. But I want to be free of it. In the past I have shared my battles with others, and it seems to have broken its power over me. I am hoping that by sharing this, its power will be broken.

And, the other reason that I am sharing this is that I know I am not alone. Jesus had a friend who he knew really well. His name was Peter. Jesus knew his strengths and he knew his weaknesses, and Jesus loved him anyway. Jesus gave Peter an unbelievable promotion. Jesus told Peter to build the church. The whole church! The first ever church! He told Peter that he would have the great responsibility, and privilege of starting the most powerful and important ministry EVER. Peter had been chosen - by the Son of God - to lead. He was verbally instructed and picked out of the crowd by Jesus himself.

Even when face-to-face with God, when offered with the greatest honour possible, Peter could not help himself. You see, Peter shared my weakness. He turned to another man, John, pointed to him and asked Jesus, "What about him?" I can imagine how Peter's mind was racing, just as mine would have been, "What does he get to do? Is it better than what I have to do? I bet it's more exciting than my job. Will he be famous? I bet he gets a better job. I bet he gets to travel. He'll be famous, everyone recognising him, and, meanwhile I'm working my butt off and no-one will even know my name. He always gets the good jobs. Whatever."

Jesus didn't leave Peter to dwell on his envy. He immediately challenged Peter, "If I want him to live until I come back, that is not your business. You follow me."

"You follow me." "You follow me." God has my life mapped out. I really do believe that. And God loves me. This means that the plan He has for me is amazing. His plan is fun, and satisfying, and exactly what I need. If I follow Him, focus on Him, and do whatever He has for me, then surely I'll not miss out. Surely I'll not be forgotten and I'll have a wonderful life.

This post has been more of a journal entry than a blog post. Sometimes I question why I blog. Do I want to be a famous writer? Do I want to be recognised? Do I really make myself this vulnerable so that others can be set free, or do I just want the praise? I'm not sure. But I am sure that I want God to change the rubbish in me. I want to enjoy an abundant life and be free. I want to be satisfied and content. Maybe by sharing this weakness, its hold over me will be broken, and I will be free to focus on what God has for me.

Sunday 17 June 2012

Sorry



I cannot count the amount of times I have had to say "sorry". It is, by no means, my favourite word, and yet it seems to be my most-used word. Most days I say "sorry" to one or all three of my kids, either for giving them the wrong sandwich filling, for getting their names mixed up (three kids, each has a different name..so, you know, pretty tough...) for ignoring them whilst watching "The Real Housewives of Orange County" or for totally losing it, and either smacking them or swearing when I've got too cross. I hate it when I mess up with my beautiful, precious children.

Pretty much daily I say "sorry" to people in the street that I either bump into, or get in the way of. And due to my "emotionally-shaped driving", I frequently shout "sorry" to other drivers whilst doing a "I'm cute, though" smile, after cutting them up on a roundabout. I even say "sorry" for sneezing, passing wind, and coughing.

Last week I said "sorry" to someone. It was a "sorry" I had been meaning to say for a long time, but I'd been too ashamed to admit what I'd done, too scared of being rejected, but also worried that I'd come across as over-dramatic, fussy or attention-seeking. The truth is, I am over-dramatic, fussy and attention-seeking (and I'm not being hard on myself, just real) but I really and truly felt sorry, and felt a need to say it. In the past, when I've needed to say sorry, I have had sleepless nights, physical sickness and extreme anxiety. This time I didn't have that, but I had a nagging whenever I saw my wronged friend. I knew that I had not been supportive. I knew that I had not been mature or helpful. I knew that I had done her wrong. I knew that I needed to say "sorry", whether my friend was concerned about it or not.

When my husband and I went through a marriage preparation course and then, a few years later, The Marriage Course - check out www.relationshipcentral.org - we learnt a lot about saying "sorry" and forgiving each other. We learnt about the importance of dealing with problems, talking about our feelings, (happy and hurt) taking responsibility for our actions, letting go of emotional wounds and looking to put each other first. We realised that we're both pretty good at saying sorry" to each other and forgiving each other. Although we're probably a bit too liberal with our use of the word "sorry".

My husband, Dave, is an amazing man. I could spend all day boasting about how wonderful he is. Right now, as I write this post, my gorgeous man is washing the dishes. He has put the kids to bed, after making the dinner, after driving us about all afternoon, after chatting with my family at a lunch to celebrate Father's Day, after driving our youngest to and from a party, after dressing the kids, after getting their breakfast, after serving me mine whilst I lay in bed, feeling hormonal and reading a book, after praying with me when we woke up because I felt sick. Yep. Super-husband. All-day-long-super-husband. And this is a typical day for my beautiful man. I am truly blessed. Truly blessed.

Dave is especially good at saying "sorry". He even changes to become a better person after he's said "sorry". Wow. That takes effort! He listens to my "grievance", acknowledges my feelings, admits his wrong - be it accidental or intended - and says "sorry". He then goes on to tell me how he intends to change and then makes all efforts to change!!! As I said, "Wow!"

Often when another person challenges me on my wrong-doing, I become hugely defensive, make my excuses, I mean, explain my reasons, and eventually squeeze the word "sorry" out of my pursed, lemon-sucking lips...nice.

"Sorry" is not easy. Whatever we are saying "sorry" for, it can be such a hard word to say. It can also be such a hard word to accept from another. But accepting someone's "sorry" or forgiving, has the same, hugely powerful effect. It sets us free.

Recently, my gorgeous son, admitted to doing something that he shouldn't have done. After he had admitted it to us, he commented that he felt "relieved and so much better." The truth was out, and it had set him free. The next day, he was able to apologise to the person he had wronged. As we drove away, he breathed an audible sigh, "I feel better now, Mum. Let's go home." He was exhausted. So was I!

Not saying "sorry" is exhausting. Feeling guilty is just so tiring, and so much energy is used in remaining stubborn and unapologetic. Holding a grudge is the same. When we allow another's wrong-doing to make us angry, bitter and unforgiving, we have to try hard to hold onto it!

Forgiveness is a choice. It is a deliberate choice. It can seem like a difficult choice. But it is a like choosing to spend a day by the sea. It is like choosing a deep breath of fresh air. It is like choosing a calm and quiet day at the spa. It is like choosing to lay in the grass, watching thesky as the clouds roll by.  Forgiveness is peaceful, fresh, restful and free. For me, saying "sorry" is another form of forgiveness. It is me, forgiving myself, and setting myself free. The world tells us that saying "sorry" and admitting weakness, makes us weak. The truth is that admitting weakness makes us strong. It sets us free to become better, and gets rid of the facade of perfection that so many of us work so hard to keep afloat. We stop wasting energy on faking it, and start enjoying and relaxing in the process of re-shaping that God takes us through. We don't need to work as He does the work for us.

So, last week I was strong and I set myself free. I admitted my wrong-doing. It felt scary and I felt vulnerable, and pretty embarrassed. But, I am so glad that I said "sorry" to my friend. I am also so very glad that she forgave me. Now, I'm free.



Wednesday 6 June 2012

Oh, Hello...

Okay. So here I am, writing again. It's been so long (my last post was last year!), but I've not really felt inspired to write. I've been inspired in other areas - baking, sewing and speaking mainly, and been ever-so busy - I've even been working - but I've not felt like I have much to say about much.....

Tomorrow I'm heading off to a women's conference in Bradford. It'll be great. I've been twice before. It's held at a great, outward-reaching church. The conference, called Cherish, is very girlie, lots of pretty decor, girl-themed talks and cakes. Speakers from all over are flown in, and the worship is loud, lively and God-centred. I'll be going with a group of girls, mostly from my church, and it'll be lots of fun to be together and hear from God.

In a few weeks, I'm going to another conference, called Real. It's being hosted by the gorgeous Catrina Benham at Kerith Community Church, and will undoubtedly be excellent in all aspects. Again, an international speaker is being flown in, and I am really excited to hear what God has to say through her.

But, something is stirring in me. Something is unsettled in my spirit. I feel fidgety and dissatisfied. I can't seem to sit still or feel content. Often I feel like this just before I head into a bout of depression. I feel tired, but not able to sleep. I get irritated by little things and cry a lot. This time, though, it feels different.

My son, Reuben is 11 years old. He is in the middle of his last term of Primary School. He has been  there since he was four, but is now preparing to leave. He will be saying goodbye to his friends and teachers, as he is the only child from his current school to be going on to his chosen secondary school. He will be leaving behind the "one classroom system", and singing hymns in assembly. He will not be the eldest in the school anymore, and so he will no longer have the respect or authority of the younger students. Many may feel sadness in Reuben's situation. However, he is ready. He is so ready.

Every day, he talks about his new secondary school. He asks questions about his new locker, his new uniform, his journey to school, where he will be walking alone. He asks about which mobile phone he'll be getting, and when his next visit will be. But his excitement about his new school has made him become negative and irritated by his primary school. He feels bored, fenced in, and simply does not see the point in being there anymore.

I can relate to Reuben's feelings. I have always loved moving. I have relished new starts. I do not find making new friends scary, and I love to start fresh projects. I am great at starting things. I am an innovator. A friend recently prophesied that I was "a midwife". Although I have considered helping women to deliver their babies, this was not what my friend meant. "You start things, create patterns for how they will work, and then pass them on."

I love to star things. But I find finishing very difficult. It does not come naturally to me. When friends move away, I find myself retreating before they go. I avoid saying goodbye. I have started ministries, but always passed them onto others within time. I have many craft projects lying around, unfinished in my home. I like to leave parties earlier than anyone else. The only place where I am the last to leave, is church. And I rarely finish a tube of toothpaste.

When school finished, I was ready to leave. After my time at university, I had had enough and left without tears. My teacher training year ended, and I merrily made my way to my new job. I left my job with excitement about my new husband, our marriage, and finally being able to be at home with my young son. I left my home church, to move to another, with such peace and focus on new ministries and new friends.


And now? Now, I think, my feet are itchy. I am longing for the new. I know where I want to be and what I want to do there...but we are still waiting. I guess that's why I've not written for a while. I am still waiting. God has moved, and things have changed. But we are still waiting. I am not waiting for healing or for the salvation of a loved one, and so I guess I feel a little guilty for feeling so frustrated. But I am still waiting. I'll keep waiting. I trust in God's promises. And I will choose to trust in His timing too.