Real life is harder than you want it to be

Image Source: Pinterest, taken from Etsy

After last week's parenting post, I spent a lot of time thinking and feeling confused about how on earth to keep writing about this wonderful and incredibly hard thing called being a parent. A friend suggested that perhaps writing in a storytelling style keeps things from sounding braggy or boastful. Which was stressful because I definitely do not want to sound any of those things! And I think she is right, the posts I benefit from the most have been personal stories, admissions of failure, of confusion, of the struggles involved in motherhood. I have actually found the "10 steps to being a better parent" posts hard to swallow, with a very small amount of exceptions.
I struggle with storytelling, because on the one hand it's something I really really want to do. On the other hand, I feel that a lot of my history that informs my life isn't my story to tell. It would be an invasion of other peoples privacy. So how do I tell some of the story, without telling the whole story, while still being authentic. Vulnerability freaks.me.out. Yet I know that it is the path forward for me in a lot of areas of my life. Don't you just love how God does that. Humph.

So this week I'm just going to lay it bare a bit, by saying that good intentions are so often just that: good intentions. We can write lists, make plans, write family purpose statements, have beautiful "We say we're sorry, we hug, we love" artwork on our walls, get up each morning determined to not say one mean thing before breakfast - and how often does it all just go to pieces within a few minutes. Lots of times.
Because - sheesh! - it's so tiring being a parent! Sleep deprivation is a killer and when you are exhausted it's so hard to follow through on anything other than to just survive. For everyone to be breathing at the end of the day.
And you know what? I think we deserve a medal every single day by just managing that.
Out of bed, clothes on everyone, food in mouths (mothers always last, if at all), lunches, out the door on time, car seat tantrums, I-don't-like-shoes/those-pants/hats/sunscreen/jackets tantrums, sign-in's, working out what to feed everyone, laundry: dear sweet Jesus help me, work, did I do enough hours, does my brain even function anymore... and that's only by about 10am.

It. Is. HARD. Really, really hard. 

So if you feel like your brain is made of cotton wool? Me too.
Feel like just quitting sometimes but know that just ain't an option? Me too.
Feel like you can't just admit any of this because people give you that look or stop talking or there's an awkward silence where you wonder if they're going to report you to someone for admitting you're having a hard time? Me too. 
Feel like every other mum has it together? Me too.
Feel like it's groundhog day and you just cannot see an end to the repetition? Me too.
Feel like just going to bed for like a whole day and a whole night without talking to anyone or having anyone touch you or ask anything of you? Me too. (Let's face it, for longer than a day).

You're okay. I'm okay. Our kids are OKAY.
You love your kids, you're trying, you're being a real person and you're doing it, you're doing parenting, and you're awesome and amazing and a superstar for it.
Go and feel GOOD about yourself. Go and tell those condescending, bullying voices in your head to SHUT UP for once while you have a cup of something that's your favourite and a plate of something else that's your favourite.
Because you will always look back on this time and be amazed that you made it through. And you're going to make it through. And so am I. And our kids will be just fine. And there's no point worrying about the "what if's" because they steal our moments from us.

Love and grace and peace and happiness from me.

xx Sarah

For all the bleeding hearts

 Today I was driving down the main street of our small town, and it was busy and bustling in the pre-Christmas rush. I was stopped at a pedestrian crossing and felt a CLUNK against my car, to look behind me and see someone had backed into me coming out of their parking space, by not checking in front of them as well as behind. The poor guy was young and flustered and apologetic, I could tell he was probably driving his parents car and possibly fairly new at it and excited to have some freedom.
Oh man am I torn up about him.
I got his number, we called him, we talked to his parents. (And by We I mean my husband, because no way can I go there). They were all very pleasant. They were in the middle of planning somebody's funeral. Oh boy.
I keep remembering what it feels like to crash your parents car. The embarrassment and the regret, the guilt, the frustration - the awful dread of having to tell them about it and knowing you can't hide it.
That poor kid! I'm like, seriously, I want to send him flowers and apologise to him for being there for him to hit. Or something.
A super lovely friend on Facebook said "Good thing he banged into compassion". 
And I will say, it's a good thing I'm not hormonal or else I'd be crying like a small child.

I have a bleeding heart. I care. I care so much that many, many times in my life I have wished to be able to not care at all. To not feel. To not hurt. To just feel nothing. 
It's hard being a carer. It's hard not being able to just watch the news like a normal person without going to bed at night with the faces of the people on it in your mind as though they were living next door to you.

The month my son was born it was a terrible news season. There had been a horrific earthquake in my birth town, Christchurch, that had killed hundreds and displaced more. The Commonwealth games were all a shambles with stands falling down in India and lots of people stressing out. There had been another horrible accident in a mine which left 29 men trapped and presumed dead. It had been a bad farming season and there were pictures of truckloads of dead lambs. It was bad. It was a few days after my boy was born that I ended up in the room with the news on and some poor bloke was being interviewed (read:ambushed) by one of the current affairs shows about a whole street that hadn't had any sewerage systems for two weeks, or something. The poor old guy was crying, crying, on television - saying "We are working as hard as we can, we can't help everyone, we are trying to get to everything but there's just too much to do". I was sobbing. Sobbing about the poor man. Crying to my husband saying "Tell me he won't commit suicide. Tell me someone loves him. I hope he has a wife and some children who love him to give him a hug." Insert ugly cry here.
Funnily enough, when my daughter was born 2 years later, I banned the news from my home during the first month.

I can't seem to care fifty percent. It either has to be zero or a hundred. For it to be zero, I have to hide you from my Facebook news feed (way better than unfriending, FYI), and not talk to you, and not ask how you are or listen if anyone else talks about you. I just cannot seem to separate myself from other peoples stuff.
I've bought the "Boundaries" book and clearly I need to actually read more than two chapters of it. But also, I am an ENFP with mercy, exhortation and discernment as my spiritual gifts. Lethal combination. Absolute killer for heartache.

So here are my tips for any other bleeding hearts out there, from my time in the trenches. (Of course take my already prescribed tip first - don't watch the news when you're pregnant/just had baby/pre-menstrual).

Let your bleeding heart lead you to prayer
If you're a follower of Christ, then first I absolutely advise you to pray, pray for the person you're thinking about, pray for the situation. Cry and beg and intercede. Even for big world events, news items, strangers - I think we don't fully understand how God uses the prayers of his saints. And I think it is one of the only ways to feel understood and to feel peace when your heart is bleeding - to take that pain to the one who created you and who truly knows how you feel. 

Care but don't carry
I'm so not an expert at this. The saying, learnt through one of the very wise leaders of our church movement, is that you can take someone's backpack, unpack it for them and help them rearrange and organise it, but you can't put it on your own back and carry it yourself. They have to carry it. Don't carry a burden that isn't yours. Care about them, love them, listen. But find a way to switch off at the end of your time with them, to a certain extent. It's not your burden to carry. Carrying someone else's stuff as well as your own is too much. It's not cold, or uncaring, to give yourself a break.

Give yourself rest time alone
When I'm feeling overwhelmed by the problems of the world and the heavy stuff going on around me, I need to be alone. I love time with people. I love talking, I love connecting, I love heavy emotional friendship full of deep and meaningful discussions. But I have to then give myself time alone, or just with my husband and kids, to recharge and rest. When I've been at my most anxious and overwrought this space has lasted weeks. Take it. Don't deny it and keep trying to be everything to everyone. You'll crash and burn. You won't really be offering them the best of you. You'll be giving them the leftovers, you'll be scraping the bottom of the barrel. I know this because I've been there - believe me, please listen. Rest. Stop. Get used to quiet. Make friends with yourself.

Make sure you have friends who care the same way about you that you care about them.
What keeps me sane is the friendships I have with women who carry and worry about me the way I carry and worry about them. When it's reciprocated, it's healthier. (This is my theory anyway and I'm sticking with it). And when it's reciprocated, you both feel less pressure, and you both know it's okay to not be in each others pockets all the time. Friends that let you knock on their door and then download a huge emotional issue without a moments warning are the best thing in the world. And then those same friends are the ones with whom I have the most fun and feel the most comfortable with. I'm blessed to have these women in my life. They mean the world to me. There aren't many of them - this is about quality, not quantity.  Find the friendships that make you feel lighter when you leave them, not heavier. And try to be that friend to people you want to be closer to. 

So now I'm going to go switch off, get some sleep, and try to forget about the poor lad and his parents car. He'll be okay. I'll be his "first car crash" story. It could be worse.
And if anyone out there is in the "I-wish-I-could-not-care-anymore" space, just let me say that I hear you, I feel you, and You can get through this. You're not alone. You are loved by God, he created you, formed you, and has a purpose for your pain. One day we'll work out what it is. Love and peace to you on this November night.

xx Sarah

Writing as Me

One of the things that I get anxious about in regards to writing, is the fear that people think I'm representing someone, or something, when I write. I worry that if I have an opinion on a subject, people may automatically assume that my husband holds the same opinion - that I speak for him, or for my family, or my church.

So I've been wanting to do a confessional of sorts, a disclaimer, to make it clear that my thoughts and words are entirely my own. All the posts here are my own thoughts, ideas, and opinions. They don't reflect my family, my husband, or my church. They are uniquely mine. (I think I may have just repeated the same thing often enough now to make my point...) And in order to become a better writer, I need to feel free to write as myself, without fear of offence or misunderstanding.

So in order to do so, and probably just because I'm paranoid, here are some true-for-now statements about myself that inform my perspective and my view of life, and therefore my writing. Some deep, some shallow, but most aren't things that people close with me will necessarily agree with.

In no order particularly:

Source: Pinterest. Illustrator: Caroline Hadilaksono.

1. I love Harry Potter. The books, not so much the movies. I don't think they are evil or lead kids into witchcraft. I read them again, and again, and again. The female characters are some of the best ever written, in terms of role-model quality, and for that reason alone if my children want to read them when they are older (over 11 years I think) I won't be stopping them. I will however use the books as aids to talk about the themes and ideas within and also the issue of the whole witch/wizard thing if needed. My closest family all disagree with me on this one, but there you go.

2. I don't believe hell is a place that God sends people. Just call me your friendly neighbourhood conditionalist. If you have never encountered the idea that this matter was ever up for discussion, check out Rachel Held Evan's Hell series here to learn more. This is not something I ever want to debate, as I don't know my theology well enough, it's not something I'll ever stand head-to-head with another Christian about and argue, it is just a belief of mine in my heart and a place where I feel peace. It is not a central issue to our salvation or our faith, I believe, but it is an issue with evangelism and our modern  evangelism approach. I will never, ever, use hell as an evangelism tool. I believe people should come to Christ for what he has to offer us while alive, for the fullness of joy he gives us, for his unconditional love - for many things - but not because they are afraid of hell.

3. I get overly anxious and worried and am afraid of lots of things. Part of this is post-natal, part of this is childhood, part of this is ENFP overcaring. Telling someone like me "just don't worry about it!" is not that helpful, FYI. Check out this from Buzzfeed: Comics that capture the frustration of anxiety disorders.

Artist: Natalie Dee

4. I don't like exercising. I don't like feeling hot. I hate sweating. And I hate pain. All bad things.

5. I don't force my kids to do what I say "Because I said so". Obedience is not first on my list of parenting values.

6. I would make an amazing Sister Maria. Come one someone, cast me.  You know you want to.

7. I'm not a night person or a morning person. I'm a sleep person. Which makes life with kids near impossible. If I had to choose I am probably more morning than night. But parenting means staying up later than you should just because no one is sitting next to you going "Muum, muuuum, muuuuuum."

8. I really struggle with/hate social media sometimes (a lot of the time). I feel like if I were not on Facebook then I would have no idea what was happening in my friends lives. Because most people don't call, text, or write letters or even emails anymore. They just share everything with their 384 "friends". I miss personal contact and I absolutely treasure the relationships I have with people who text me every so often to check in. I think I need to give what I want to get here too, I need to text and call people, I need to make an effort, if I want people to make one back. So I'm working on that.

9. I judge myself and my life by what I DO way too much. I often count myself as failing or not meeting some high and lofty standard. I need to change. I need to stop saying that I need to change. I need to start saying "I am okay, as I am. I am enough." It is easier to preach stuff to other people than accept it yourself, am I right?

10. I really like the movie "An American Tale 2: Fieval goes west." Don't judge. It's fantastic. Amazing songs. I watched this again and again as a child.

So there you go! That's me. Well, part of me. I represent myself, and I write because I love to. I am going to write here whether people read it or not, because writing helps my soul. And all of the above ten points are probably things that will change and evolve over time, because that is how life goes. Our experiences and our history shifts our perspective, and I am not afraid of that because growth is a good thing. I think I will always love Fieval though...

What about you? Anyone else got stuff they've been afraid to admit?

xx Sarah

I want to be average

Funny title, huh.

I've spent 10 days on holiday, which has been amazing but actually more than that it has just been necessary. I was on the verge of losing.it. Whatever "it" is.

So, as you do whilst on holiday, I spent some time reevaluating. And that's what has inspired the title of this post - wanting to be average.

Perhaps it's because we just did the census here in New Zealand and I'm in survey mode. But in any case I was thinking about surveys and those ones where you are asked to evaluate the person or performance on a scale - with average in the middle and then below average, very poor, above average, and outstanding on either side.

I am aware that as a person I am out of balance. And that some of the things that I am below average on and above average on, are robbing from other things, or adding to other things, and it's having a bad effect on me.

I made a survey and thought I'd put it here - I've circled my answers. (If it looks small on your screen basically very poor is on the left, average in the middle, outstanding on the right).

(Yes, I'm a dork).

For me to function as a human being and not turn into a vegetable, I need to re-order some stuff in my life. I have placed such a high value on being reliable, dependable, a good friend, saving the day, "Being Jesus", Loving Others, Serving, and doing lots of other very worthwhile things, that I've sacrificed some very basic needs of my own - for example having a shower more than once or twice a week (yes, it's embarrassing, now you know) - and also some important emotional things, like spending time with God, doing things I enjoy, and getting a bit of exercise or eating something healthier than just toast because it happens to be there and is quick. Let alone sleep. I mean, hello. Hard with a three and a half month old baby anyway, but I'm surely not going to get any extra when I'm rushing about trying to be everything to everybody else. And at the end of the day my relationships with my husband and kids suffer if I've got no energy left for them after being there for everyone else. And that's not cool because they are my loves, my legacy, my lifes work and my joy.

 

This is hard for me, because I love people - I love my friends, I love to be there for people, especially those who are lonely. It's either how God made me and is my heart, or it's a result of my upbringing - either way, it's not natural for me to be able to ignore a need. 

I'm having to learn - every need is not necessarily mine to fix or fill. Sometimes prayer is the best thing you can offer. If your family don't get your time or attention when they need it, don't offer it to others until they do. Sometimes peoples feelings might get hurt but if your heart is in the right place then they will understand, if they actually are your friend. Sometimes it is okay to be alone. It is good to do things that make you happy. Sometimes it is okay to say no, and not give a reason why.

So I'm aiming to be average. I can't bring the Very Poor or Below Average areas in my life up unless I bring some of the others down. I'm really, really sorry about that. Does this mean you can no longer depend on me? I think it probably does. Please depend on God instead. He can do so much more than I can. He is a better friend, mentor, and life-giver than I. Way way WAY better! How prideful of me to try to get in there and do his work. Sorry, Jesus. 

And yet I can hear some people say "So Sarah, this is all well and good, but it's still about you DO-ing. What about BE-ing?" Yep, I get that. That's what I'm trying at. I guess this is just a practical way of assessing my life. If I make it clear what I'm heading towards, perhaps people will be able to accept the times I want to just BE. To just sit outside under a tree with my kids. To just sit in a chair with my eyes closed. To just listen to my husband talk. 

Thanks for reading, and for being in my life. I feel the need to apologise and ask forgiveness - but let me say this - none of us, you or I, should ever have to apologise for wanting to be healthier, and happier, and more whole. None of us. So I won't apologise. I will just say to you, Onwards, on your own journey. Go and find God. Go and find Yourself. Go and find freedom. Find life. Discover your future. Live long and prosper... (hang on, is that Star Trek? I got lost there). I think I may need to go rent Pocahontas again...

xx Sarah 

P.S: I plan to do a post or two next about the good books I've read while I was away, and other light-hearted things. I just felt the need to get this one off my chest first.

Dear Ellen

Dear Ellen,

I remember the day I first met you. Church camp, 2011, around the bonfire. My husband was playing guitar and singing so I was juggling a 2 year old girl and attempting to push my 5 month old baby to sleep in the buggy at the same time, whilst not blocking anyones view, whilst trying to keep him from crying. You were standing behind me and asked if you could help, took the buggy and pushed him to sleep. I'd never met you before, yet you reached out to help another mum having a hard time. For me that first experience with you epitomises who you are.

You are someone who sees people in need, and reaches out to help. Especially young girls, and mums, but you cared about everyone. Someone who was shy, and at first perhaps hard to get to know, but you'd still get out of your comfort zone to help someone who was on your heart, even if you didn't know them very well. I'm always amazed at your courage, when you were doing your job with Hippy - driving around, meeting new mums, helping them. The very idea terrifies me. You are so brave.

We went through some big things together. Big talks, big confessions, big tears, and big hugs. Pondering the big issues through books we and blogs that we loved. These are the things I will miss. The fact that you trusted me, what a privilege. Driving together to conferences and events where neither of us wanted to turn up alone. Worrying about people together, whether they were okay, what we could do to help. You were always willing to do anything you felt you could. 

Bonding over music. Every song (except for Metallica, sorry - though I do have a soft spot now for that song!) that was played yesterday was one I have on my iTunes too. I love that I have so much to listen to now that will make me think of you.

And now you're gone, way too soon, I was so so SO excited about your wedding. You never got to have a cuddle with my baby. I've got regrets, plenty of them. And there's nothing any of us can do. I know there's no point in asking Why. I know that it's natural to do it, but instead the only thing I'm left with is to remember you, thank God for the season I had with you, and to try to live in a way that will honour your memory. And this is not about putting you on a pedestal, and making you perfect, because you'd be the first to admit that you weren't, and none of us are. But it's about celebrating you and keeping you alive in us. This will mean a different thing for each of your friends and family, but for me, because our friendship was born of deep and meaningful discussions rather than the day-to-day fun stuff, it will mean this:

Noticing, caring for, and reaching out to people who are on the sidelines, people in pain, people who are forgotten. You were an incredible example of this to me, and you had more stamina and more grace than I did. Your memory compels me to carry on what you've started. I won't forget them.

Speaking kindly. Treating others politely, even if I'm annoyed. Showing respect. These things mattered to you. Kindness, grace, mercy. Thank you for being an example to me.

And lastly, spending time with God. Pressing on with Him, spending time with Him, reading my bible, reading books, seeking Him, and doing the hard yards - whatever it takes - to move forward with Him and become who I am in Him. Your courage astounded me, many times. Your commitment and your passion. The experiences we shared that I get to keep as sacred between us. I wish we'd had more time so we could have had more and more of them.

I know that you found true love and peace in Jesus, and you're with him now, and you "get" all of this, in a way none of us do. I look forward to the day that I get to sit down with you again, and we have a deep and meaningful and analytical discussion about it all that takes far too long, just like we used to do.

Love you forever,

Sarah xxx

Note: All the images above, except for her photo, are from Ellens Pinterest boards. Take a look through them. It's awesome to see what she loved. Let me know if you need an invite to join.

Looking for God in all the wrong places...

I just wrote a comment on Twitter that went like this: "Revelation of the night: God is not on Twitter. If it's God you need, and it always is, you won't find him on social media. Switch off".
When we are lonely and searching it seems that we take those emotions and searchings out to our 21st century version of the journal, to all of our 279 "friends" on facebook, and our Twitter followers, and all of their friends and followers. It's an insane way to live but it is so tempting. It's the equivalent of dangling the fishing line in the water, just to see what's there. I think we're always hoping that we'll get some amazing comment or connection, some incredibly deep and compassionate person will respond to us and we'll all of a sudden realise that No, I am not Alone In The World.
It's a big lie and a big trap because 99 times out of 100 no one responds, and our inner insecurities that say "No one cares" are confirmed, and for all of our social-media-fishing-line-cast-outs we end up feeling a whole heap more terrible than when we started out.
When we are in that place it is Jesus Christ that we need. He alone can fill the gaping hole in our hearts. If you think that being married does it, or having a "bestie" does it, or a great church, or parents living around the corner... well you're wrong. Loneliness is a snake that bites in any situation and the only cure for it is found in the arms of God.
I think of the Psalms and remind myself of how many times the writers cried out to God, "Why have you abandoned me?" Our emotions matter and they are real and sometimes it does feel like you have no one. But we do have God. He never leaves, he never fails, he is real and constant and he can be trusted more than our fickle feelings can.
If you're in that place of alone tonight, just know that you're not alone, and that it will pass. I write it for myself, in a season of blessing and of growing another life inside me, and yet it is in these seasons that I always feel the most isolated and the most lonely. This time I choose to fight my feelings and attempt to take it to God, and I will trust him with the next five and a half months and pray that it goes by quickly.
So perhaps it's naive of me to write a post like this, having begun by saying not to take your pain to social media, and yet here I am voicing it... but it's real for where I'm at and it may be my story for the rest of the year. God is here with me and I'll testify to it even when it hurts. At times like this there is nothing that a person could do for me, it is all up to God. Remember to pray for your friends, lift each other up and cover each other, because it is the Lord that we need and it is he that will bring healing and change our hearts.
Cyber hugs and love and prayers to all of you.
Sarah xx

Insecurity and accepting who you are... part one.

I talked in my very first blog post about a tendency I have had in the past to people please. I am certainly in a better place with this than I used to be, but every now and then the whole area of "what do they think of me?" rears it's ugly head. I have been feeling quite insecure these last two weeks, this could possibly be for a number of reasons: spiritual attack; I'm stepping out and saying and doing things publicly which is making me feel nervous about potentially being judged; I've been too busy and haven't spent enough time with the Lord either just praying or reading, or listening to a podcast. I thought it could be good to write about this because I know a lot of people struggle with feelings of insecurity and with feeling paranoid about what others think about them - what they say/do/dress like and how they live their lives.
When I use the term "people please" I mean the tendency to make decisions to do or say things based on what we think others would want us to do or say, rather than what we want to do or say, or what God would have us do. I think deep down most of us just want to be loved and accepted. Sometimes it's hard to imagine that we can be those things by just being who we are, so we try to adapt ourselves to suit our situation and the people around us.
I didn't so much pretend to be things I wasn't, I used to just hide. I found it really hard to talk to new people, at church or anywhere really, because I thought so hard about what I was going to say and how they would interpret what I'd said, that I'd sabotaged myself before I'd even begun! I've found nothing kills conversation more than overthinking it. Now I don't believe that we should shoot our mouths off either. But I think that when we are living in tune with Jesus and trying to be who he wants us to be, praying and seeking him, we can trust him to help us to be naturally ourselves when we talk to others.
The times when I have felt the worst about myself have been the times when my view of God has been the most twisted. About 5 years ago on summer holiday I read a book which opened my eyes to where my thinking had gone so wonky. The book is "A stone for a pillow" by I think my most favourite author, Madeleine L'engle. The book is about Jacob. The first chapter talks about how we as the western world have taken a "forensic view of God". Here are some quotes from that chapter:

"Far too often we view God as an angry judge who assumes that we are guilty unless we can placate divine ire and establish our innocence"

"This is not God, not the God of scripture who over and over again shows love for us imperfect creatures, who does not demand that we be good or virtuous before we can be loved. When we stray from God, it is not God's pleasure to punish us. It is God's pleasure to welcome us back, and then throw a party in celebration of our homecoming."

I always felt like I was on trial with God. Constantly measuring myself against some crazy, perfect, unattainable standard which I always fell short of. I was so insanely disappointed in myself, and though I knew in my head about grace, I knew God loved me, it had not clicked through to my heart. I'm thankful now that it has. It took time, it took prayer, it took good people around me. But God got me there. When I think of the Lord now and when I'm in his presence I feel 99% of the time just relaxed, free, at peace. I know he cares for me regardless of how often I read my bible, or study, or whether I said something I didn't mean that hurt someones feelings, or whether I lost my temper at my kids, or I thought about things that weren't healthy for me, or ate way too much chocolate when I wasn't even hungry. He doesn't stand in judgement towards me on those things. But if I want to talk about them and deal with them with him, he's cool with that too. And this is not to say that he isn't Lord, King, Master. The line is a tricky one but I think it pays sometimes not to overthink it. 

So I've been trying, this year in particular, to be a bit more me. I used to be very extroverted and I think that is part of who I am that I lost - the chatty part that laughed alot. I think that God would have me be that person, because that was who I was as a child, and I believe that's part of who I am - because the reasons I wouldn't act that way were full of regret and shame and guilt, and I don't believe that God is about those 3 things. God is love, God is hope, God is peace. But it's hard. I do go home sometimes after being out at church, or a practice, or visiting someone and have the "did I talk too much? why did I say that? I hope they don't think I'm being pushy?!" thoughts. But I need to learn to get past those. I know God has things for me to do. And I will not ever be able to do those things if I hide. Our pastor used a quote (he had said it was from Nelson Mandela, but I found online that this is a common mistake and it is actually from Marianne Williamson) in a sermon a few years back that struck home for me, and I try to remember it when feelings of insecurity arise inside me:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others"

I'm done with playing small. If by being friendly and by being myself I alienate some people, then I will just have to accept that. I know that it's not my heart to hurt or offend. I know that I am just trying to love and welcome people. And over time God will help me grow and mature and perhaps I will get a bit better at saying the right thing and have a few less foot-in-mouth moments. Or maybe I won't. Because the more foot-in-mouth moments I have, the more it keeps me humble and keeps me running back into the arms of my God who is waiting to welcome me.

I think I'm going to leave it there for now, but I think I could be often returning to this subject.

xx Sarah

Friendship and Sisterhood

Today I shared at the mothers group I run at our church, called Flourish, about friendships. I wanted to post it here as well because this topic is weighing heavily on me at the moment. Not necessarily in a bad way, but perhaps because I need to be obedient and "go there" with a topic which others might find uncomfortable. And I feel pretty vulnerable doing so. So here goes! 

Generally as a rule I think friendships are often made around common interests or hobbies. This year has been interesting for me because my closest girlfriend moved to England. The closeness of our friendship is based around a number of factors: I’ve known her for the longest time out of my Wanganui friends – we met a year before we moved here and when we did move here we lived with them for 3 weeks before they bought their house, then we took their flat; our husbands had been casual friends for a good 5 years before that; we were a similar age and at the same stage in life – bought houses at the same time, had babies around the same time; and then the winning combination of a love of food and a love of books meant that it was easy for us to be close. And of course Karen loved to do nothing. I also love to do nothing. I have discovered that my closest friends over the years have also loved to do nothing. I’m a sit on the couch with a cup of tea, read a magazine, have a chat kind of girl. I find it easiest to be friends with people who are the same. Perhaps we sort of gravitate towards each other… a laziness sensor must go off or something! But in terms of friendship it was also a friendship built around the very deepest things. Karen had the courage to call me out at a time when I was hiding behind huge emotional brick walls. She was the only person to notice and the only person who cared enough to say something and because she did, and because I was touched by her thoughtfulness, and God helped me to choose to move forward rather than pull back, we had a very deep friendship based around the biggest secrets of our lives and the deepest spiritual discussions. 

Friendships like that are wonderful. But I don’t think we can expect to get that kind of friendship with anyone and everyone we know. Sometimes we just don’t click with people. Sometimes we have absolutely nothing in common and find we struggle to find anything to talk about. I do believe that when we feel this way however it's important to pray, to ask God to help us learn to love that person and to help us find common ground. But sometimes it’s just more surface than that – we are in a different time of life, a different circle of friends, we don’t live close or our age is vastly different. And this is where I want to talk about Sisterhood.
I don’t have any sisters, I have one brother and we weren’t close until our mid to late teens. So friends have always ended up sort of becoming family to me. My two best friends in high school had two sisters each and I loved being able to make myself at home in their homes and listen to them fight and scrap and feel their hurts and celebrate their joys.
And I think that actually for us as women, especially Christian women, we need Sisters even more than we might need friends.
When I look around just my own church I see a lot of very different yet very beautiful women, all with strengths and stories, and I think, Wow, the things we could do if we would UNITE. There is a quote I read online a while ago but I couldn’t find again, that said something like that if women would unite together towards a cause, Sisterhood would be the most powerful force to shake the earth – and I agree. I know that at a conference recently that some church friends went to (called EquipHer), Lisa Bevere spoke and said that “men compare to spur eachother on, women compare to bring each other down”. And to be honest, I’m getting tired of it. I don’t want to in any way minimise anyones hurt or make light of any issues that exist for anyone at all. But I do think there comes a point in our lives where we need to decide to stop looking sideways and instead look straight ahead.

What I mean by that is this: too often I have been paralysed from doing anything helpful or constructive because I have been insecure and paranoid about what other people think of me – mainly, other women. And I have been listening to a lot of Joyce Meyer's podcasts this year, and have been struck by how often she talks about unforgiveness and grudge holding. The point she makes that when we don’t forgive we only hurt ourselves. More often than not the other person is perfectly fine. We are the ones that are miserable and angry and torn up inside. When we forgive we do it for ourselves, we do it so we can move on, so we can be free.
So I’m making some definitions of a Sister that I think we can learn from in our relationships with eachother. The girls laughed at me this morning - we decided that perhaps this is my concoction of a fantasy ideal of what a sister is, combined with my observations of actual sisters, and my thoughts on what it is to be a spiritual sister.

• If your sister is broke you lend her money if you’ve got it. You cook her meals. You help her out. You let her move in (even if it’s reluctantly).
• A sister might have stolen your boyfriend/clothes/barbie 10 or 20 years ago but you didn’t stop talking to her for her life – you had a big row then you got over it because she’s your sister and you love her.
• A sister is the one you call when you really feel like life is falling apart. You know you can trust her not to report you to the authorities or to tell anyone else.
• A sister will celebrate with you when you succeed, will feel your highs like they’re her own.
• When you ask your sister to pray for you she will, and she will check in again the next day to see how you are.
• You can not see your sister for weeks but when you do again it’s like nothings changed.
• You care if someone hurts your sister, Most of the time you want to hurt them back.
• Other people know NEVER to bad-mouth your sister in front of you, because she is your sister and you will defend her whether she is in the right or not.
• When you hear a rumour about your sister you don’t believe it, you ask her first, or you don’t bother because you know your sister.
• You don’t share your sisters news and feelings with other people because she is your sister and you trust each other.
• When you are hurt your sister is hurt. When you are happy your sister is happy. When you are nervous your sister is nervous for you. 
• Your relationship with your sister may not be perfect. You may not agree with all her choices, her hairstyle, her outfits, or her friends – but when she needs you, you’re there, and she for you.   

We aren’t all going to be best friends. But I believe we need to be sisters. Today in writing this I'm trying to encourage you. Let's find a group of women who we are in community with - be it at a church, a mothers group, in your neighbourhood and start the Sisterhood journey. I'm saying to the beautiful women in my church: I care for you all, I’m here for you, I will pray for you if you ask. It doesn’t matter if we don’t spend a lot of time together, you can know that I will still be your sister. I think that it’s time to speak truth, to put down our defenses, to choose to never speak ill of one another or to tolerate it in others. If there’s deep grievances or issues between us and our girlfriends let’s start the journey towards healing those, for our own sake as much as anyone elses. I need sisters. I need people I can trust. I need companionship. I need help sometimes. 

If women unite, we will be an unstoppable force, and it can start small: in one mothers group, one neighbourhood, one church.

I know I may have stirred up some uncomfortable things today and I'm not asking you to necessarily agree with me on it all, but I do ask you to think on it and to pray on it. For too long women have been known to be petty, cruel and malicious. It’s time to turn that around. We are nurturers, mothers, life givers, servers, encouragers and inspirers (yes I’m making up a word!) We are sisters. Let’s start today. I’m choosing to and I hope that you will choose with me.

xx Sarah

Note: These thoughts are inspired by Idelette and SheLovesMagazine.com and their amazing manifesto.