Ruined…

Recently, bulldozers moved in, levelling a wood and meadow. The carnage was brutal, with splintered branches and uprooted trees. And when those bulldozers moved out, they left behind a permanent change.

So, why did I think it could be any different with relationships? For some reason, I thought that when a destructive person moved away, everything would snap back to normal. I thought that people could simply bounce back into being happy and whole, that things would be okay.

Now I know it takes a long time to rebuild. I know the scenery has permanently changed. But, there is hope. With God, I am working at pushing broken logs to one side. Maybe kindness and love will take root.

(photo by Boris Hamer: pexels.com)

The adventure of change…

If we add one and one in the arts, it is never two. It is unpredictable and beautiful. We get something new, and the arts’ world does this so well. ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TwC0Db7oerM)

The same can be true for us. If we dared to step out into something new, it too could be unpredictable and beautiful. Or it could be a flop. But we would never know how we could change unless we tried.

So, in this new year, 2025, I too will try something new and see where it goes. For even though the possibility of adding one to one can be scary, the adventure of change is worth it…

Watch this space…

(photo by Antonius Ferret: www.pexels.com)

The charm of being human…

There is a certain risk when dressing in the dark. We could put our clothes on wrong. Yesterday I did it again. I wore my shirt inside out, and I didn’t even notice until I took it off in the evening. And no one told me that they could see my tags, or the seams and darts in my shirt. They carried on.

It didn’t change what I did or said or went, because I didn’t know. And by the end of the day, it was too late to be embarrassed. It had happened.

What did I learn from it? All of us carry imperfections in our lives, a broken past or personal mishaps, which we don’t even know about. So, just carry on, and at the right time it will come to light.

(photo by Sergey Makashin: ww.pexels.com)

‘Call me, Bitter.’

That was what Naomi said when she lost her husband and two sons. She said, ‘Don’t call me Naomi. Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter’ (Ruth 1:20). And in her deep grief, she tried to drive away those she loved.

God’s exiled people experienced the same in nature. They came to a spring, but ‘they could not drink its water because it was bitter’ (Exodus 15:23). They backed away from it and rejected it, because bitterness has a way of driving others away.

But God stepped into both situations. God gave Naomi a grandson through the very person she tried to reject. He cured the water for his exiled people, the very water they refused to drink. And God will do the same for us. Let’s not drive others away in our great sadness and bitterness of heart, for it is often through these people that we find God’s hope.

image: pexels-yaroslav-shuraev-8968077.jpg

Our daily deaths…

The beauty of being human is that each of us has inherent privileges. In the beginning, God lavished Adam and Eve with ones which gave them emotional life. Love and friendship. To make their own choices and speak their mind. The privilege to learn from mistakes and grow wiser. To work creatively and have faith… Each one is essential in God’s eye.

Now, if any one of these was forcibly removed from our lives, the way God created us to function would die in that area. And this is a death. It will affect every other area in life.

If my freedom to speak is torn from me, it affects my friendships, choices, and my opportunities to grow. It affects my decisions…

How can we/I regain these stolen privileges?

(photo by Felipe Vallin: https://www.pexels.com)