What is one to do…

Defining moments in life almost always take us by surprise. They don’t come wrapped in the glitz and  glamour of a History Making moment, or with a Personal assistant armed with a run sheet, an outfit glorifying the positive aspects of our figure, the paparazzi lined up ready and waiting to snap that perfect moment, that one phrase, the heroic action that takes one from ‘on the journey’ to destiny fulfilled.

nope… its not like that at all.

Defining moments are often the hard, confusing, foggy, lonely, hard working times… times that we can either embrace or let pass us by.

You’ve heard that oppoturnity often comes dressed up as hard work. I would take that one step further.

Opportunity often has the coat of failure on, the shoes of humility laced and pants with deep deep deep empty pockets strapped firmly to our waist with the belt of constriction.

I think thats why opportunity seems to fall only on the golden. I did say Seems… I think its knocks on everyones door, but we often misunderstand the moment to the point of shrinking back and allowing our circumstances to push us into a hole rather than driving us through and forward… overcoming and reaching out.

Now, I am not immune here… not at all, not one bit.

I think I’m actually in the middle of finding myself calling opportunity failure and misfortune. Desperately wondering if its too late to turn it all around. Faith and Grace are whispering urgently that its never too late. I just hope they transcend mens plans and ideas. Actually, I have to believe that they hold supernatural authority over what man can do. AND what I do to myself. Self destruction is a silent and unseen epidemic so many suffer from.

My hands are tempted to rest in those deep deep deep empty pockets. To lay there poor and defeated. The challenge is to open those pockets and let them be filled with faith and grace – opportunity in its embryonic stage. Let the constriction squeeze out offence and bitterness, detoxing my soul – then Feed and nurture it with whatever it is I find in the place of humility, and then let failure shield me from arrogance and self importance until I walk into the sunlight of contrite success once more.

Thankfulness can seem like an alien emotion in these seasons, but really this is the very place thankfulness belongs. So let it live freely in the season of lack, of despair and heartache. It will surely lead us into the very presence of one much stronger then we could ever be on our own.

And then… what is one to do from here…

Firstly I know that if glitz and glamour, PA’s and paparazzi ever come my way, they won’t define my moment… it will be because I defined the challenging, failure riddled, opportunity beckoning moments in the unseen and what happens from there is far more valuable than glory, success or fame can ever be.

Whats one to do?

Keep on walking

Keep on believing

Keep on seeing through the bottomless eyes of Faith and Grace…


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my eyes want to be closed

I am so tired I hardly know what to write. My eyes just want to close and stare at the lovely black silence of the inside of my eyelids.

But I must write… seriously…

I feel as tho if I am serious about this… as serious as I claim to myself to be… that I need to be willing to write when I would rather sleep. OK with willing my brain into order when it selfishly wants to close up shop for the day/morning/night/arfternoon…. WHENEVER.

So here I am writing.

about nothing much really. except the fact that I need to write. Everyday. write. everyday.

on a more non boring note… hang on… lost it…

oh well…

we got home really late tonight from ‘Team Building Night’ at Church. Was an awesome night!!! 🙂 so happy to be where I am with Church and God. Its crazy days… but I feel as tho for the first time in YEARS I am allowed to move forward. Crazy beautiful feeling.

Anyway, we got home so so late but as we had run out of bread that morning, I am now listening to my bread maker knead some sour dough… and I will be listening to this for the next 3 hours. After which I will get up and pull the bread out of the bread maker so that it doesn’t go soggy. Thats how committed I am to my bread maker and fresh bread.


Go to sleep Lizzy – I got home, I wrote, I conquered.

good night.


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first words

There is a simple beauty in the late hours of night… solitude, peaceful house, slumbering loved ones, candles burning, tea brewing… alone with ones heart and mind.

Its here that I write my first words in a blog…

Now this ‘blog’, as we call it, is not for you. Its not for the masses or the few. Its to help unblock the knotted tangled mess of my mind and creativity that I know is somewhere under my flat hair, growing body, and crooked smile. I don’t really blame anyone but myself for this mess… and even then ‘blame’ is not the right word. By not attentive to my talents, I have let them sleep for far too long. Now they are like a teenager in school holidays… impossible to stir and get moving until a mature hour of the day.

However, there are things I could say caused the block – seasons I have experienced, tragedies endured and lived through… but I know the main cause of this ‘writers block’ is one common to many creative souls…


fear has shouted, paraded, antagonised and bullied my soul into a corner. And I have allowed this to happen. Stood by and watched without raising a finger or speaking a word. Cowardly and weak.

Fears reign in my senses has come to an end. How? by making the simple decision to live by faith.

To choose to have confidence.

Do I care if you read this?

Do I care if you think its rubbish?

Do I care if it makes sense?

At this point – no. Fear will not drive me to make decisions about my life based on what YOU think. Confidence and faith draw me to make choices based on what I believe about myself and my future regardless of what mans limited thinking and understanding can assume of me. They lead me to a higher way of thinking and living. We’re its not really about me at all – but Christ and what he has entrusted into my very being to carry out on the earth.

One day I will care what you think and if it makes sense. But it will be from the point of view of giving to you, not receiving from you.

And there is a simple beauty in that one too…

like the warmth of my now brewed tea in my hands, I am learning to let giving warm me rather than receiving. To let the motivation be not entertainment, but impartation.

So until the impartation is ripe, these first words shall remain between me myself and I.

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